Castle Baynard is in City of London.
In 1659 William Bolton Lord Mayor -1680 was elected Alderman for Castle Baynard.
On 11 Oct 1663 Castle Baynard was knighted.
Baynard's Castle, Castle Baynard, City of London
Wriothesley's Chronicle Volume 1 Henry VII. 1500. This yeare the Kinge (42) buylded new his manner at Sheene, and chaunged the name and named it Eichmonde; and buylded new his place called the Baynards Castle, in London; and repayred his place in Greenewich, with muche new buyldinge.
On 10 Apr 1630 William Herbert 3rd Earl Pembroke 1580-1630 (50) died at Baynard's Castle. His brother Philip Herbert 4th Earl Pembroke 1st Earl Montgomery 1584-1650 (45) succeeded 4th Earl Pembroke 10C 1551. Anne Clifford Countess Dorset Countess Pembroke 1590-1676 (40) by marriage Earl Pembroke 10C 1551.
John Evelyn's Diary 03 September 1666. 03 Sep 1666. I had public prayers at home. The fire continuing, after dinner, I took coach with my wife (31) and son, and went to the Bankside in Southwark, where we beheld that dismal spectacle, the whole city in dreadful flames near the waterside; all the houses from the Bridge, all Thames street, and upward toward Cheapside, down to the Three Cranes, were now consumed; and so returned, exceedingly astonished what would become of the rest.
The fire having continued all this night (if I may call that night which was light as day for ten miles round about, after a dreadful manner), when conspiring with a fierce eastern wind in a very dry season, I went on foot to the same place; and saw the whole south part of the city burning from Cheapside to the Thames, and all along Cornhill (for it likewise kindled back against the wind as well as forward), Tower street, Fenchurch Street, Gracious street, and so along to Baynard's Castle, and was now taking hold of St. Paul's church, to which the scaffolds contributed exceedingly. The conflagration was so universal, and the people so astonished, that, from the beginning, I know not by what despondency, or fate, they hardly stirred to quench it; so that there was nothing heard, or seen, but crying out and lamentation, running about like distracted creatures, without at all attempting to save even their goods; such a strange consternation there was upon them, so as it burned both in breadth and length, the churches, public halls, Exchange, hospitals. Monuments, and ornaments; leaping after a prodigious manner, from house to house, and street to street, at great distances one from the other. For the heat, with a long set of fair and warm weather, had even ignited the air, and prepared the materials to conceive the fire, which devoured, after an incredible manner, houses, furniture, and every thing. Here, we saw the Thames covered with goods floating, all the barges and boats laden with what some had time and courage to save, as, on the other side, the carts, etc., carrying out to the fields, which for many miles were strewn with movables of all sorts, and tents erecting to shelter both people and what goods they could get away. Oh, the miserable and calamitous spectacle! such as haply the world had not seen since the foundation of it, nor can be outdone till the universal conflagration thereof. All the sky was of a fiery aspect, like the top of a burning oven, and the light seen above forty miles round about for many nights. God grant mine eyes may never behold the like, who now saw above 10,000 houses all in one flame! The noise and cracking and thunder of the impetuous flames, the shrieking of women and children, the hurry of people, the fall of towers, houses, and churches, was like a hideous storm; and the air all about so hot and inflamed, that at the last one was not able to approach it, so that they were forced to stand still, and let the flames burn on, which they did, for near two miles in length and one in breadth. The clouds also of smoke were dismal, and reached, upon computation, near fifty miles in length. Thus, I left it this afternoon burning, a resemblance of Sodom, or the last day. It forcibly called to my mind that passage—"non enim hic habemus stabilem civitatem"; the ruins resembling the picture of Troy. London was, but is no more! Thus, I returned.
The History of King Richard the Third. Then on the morrow after, the Mayor with all the Aldermen and chief commoners of the city, in their best manner appareled, assembling themselves together, resorted unto Baynard's Castle where the Protector lay. To which place repaired also, according to their appointment, the Duke of Buckingham with diverse noble men with him, besides many knights and other gentlemen. And thereupon, the Duke sent word unto the Lord Protector of there being a great and honorable company to move a great matter unto his Grace.
Whereupon the Protector made difficulty to come out unto them unless he first knew some part of their errand, as though he doubted and partly distrusted the coming of such number unto him so suddenly without any warning or knowledge, whether they came for good or harm. Then the Duke, when he had showed this unto the Mayor and others, that they might thereby see how little the Protector expected this matter, they sent unto him by messenger such loving message again, and therewith so humbly besought him to graciously condescend so that they might come into his presence and propose their intent, of which they would unto none other person any part disclose, that at the last he came forth from his chamber, and yet not down unto them, but stood above in a gallery over them, where they might see him and speak to him, as though he would not yet come too near them till he knew what they meant.
And thereupon the Duke of Buckingham first made humble petition unto him, on behalf of them all, that his Grace would pardon them and give them permission to present unto his Grace the intent of their coming without his displeasure, without which pardon obtained, they dared not be bold to move him of that matter. In which, although they meant as much honor to his Grace as wealth to all the realm beside, yet were they not sure how his Grace would take it, whom they would in no way offend.
Then the Protector, as if he was very gentle himself and also longed sore to know what they meant, gave him leave to propose what he liked, verily trusting, because of the good mind that he bore them all, none of them would intend anything toward him wherewith he ought to be grieved.
When the Duke had this leave and pardon to speak, then grew he bold to show him their intent and purpose, with all the causes moving them thereto, as you before have heard, and finally to beseech his Grace that it would like him of his accustomed goodness and zeal unto the realm, now with his eye of pity, to behold the long continued distress and decay of the same, and to set his gracious hands to the redress and amendment thereof by taking upon him the crown and governance of this realm, according to his right and title lawfully descended unto him, and to the praise of God, profit of the land, and unto his Grace so much the more honor and less pain, in that never a prince reigned upon any people that were so glad to live under his rule as the people of this realm under his.
When the Protector had heard the proposition, he looked very strangely thereat and answered that although he partly knew the things by them alleged to be true, yet such entire love he bore unto King Edward and his children, that he so much more regarded his honor in other realms than the crown of any one, of which he was never desirous, that he could not find in his heart in this point to incline to their desire. For in all other nations, where the truth was not well known, it should perhaps be thought it were his own ambitious mind and device to depose the Prince and take for himself the crown. With such infamy he would not have his honor stained for any crown—a crown that he had ever perceived held much more labor and pain than pleasure to him that so would so use it, and he who would not use it were not worthy to have it. Not withstanding, he not only pardoned them the motion that they made him, but also thanked them for the love and hearty favor they bore him, praying them, for his sake, to give and bear the same to the Prince, under whom he was and would be content to live; and with his labor and counsel, as far as should the King like to use him, he would do his uttermost duty to set the realm in good state, which was already in this little while of his protectorship (the praise given to God) well begun, in that the malice of such as were before occasion of the contrary—and of new intended to be—were now, partly by good policy, partly more by God's special providence than man's provision, repressed.
Upon this answer given, the Duke, by the Protector's permission, a little whispered as well with other noble men about him, as with the Mayor and Recorder of London. And after that, upon like pardon desired and obtained, he showed aloud unto the Protector, for a final conclusion, that the realm was resolved King Edward's line should not any longer reign upon them, both because they had gone so far that there was now no safety to retreat, and because they thought it for the common good to take that way, although they had not yet begun it. Wherefore, if it would please his Grace to take the crown upon him, they would humbly beseech him thereunto. If he would give them a resolute answer to the contrary, which they would be loath to hear, then they must needs seek, and should not fail to find, some other noble man that would.
These words much moved the Protector, who else, as every man may know, would never of likelihood have inclined thereunto. But when he saw there was none other way, but either he must take it or else he and his both must go from it, he said unto the lords and commons: "Since we perceive well that all the realm is so set—whereof we be very sorry they will not suffer in any way King Edward's line to govern them, whom no earthly man can govern against their wills—and because we also perceive well that no man is there to whom the crown can by so just title appertain as to ourself as very right heir, lawfully begotten of the body of our most dear father, Richard, late Duke of York—to which title is now joined your election, the nobles and commons of this realm, which we of all titles possible take for most effectual—we be content and agree favorably to incline to your petition and request, and according to the same, here we take upon us the royal estate, preeminence, and kingdom of the two noble realms, England and France: the one from this day forward by us and our heirs to rule, govern and defend; the other, by God's grace and your good help, to get again and subdue and establish forever in due obedience unto this realm of England—the advancement—whereof we never ask of God longer to live than we intend to procure."
With this there was a great shout, crying, "Richard! King Richard!" And then the lords went up to the King (for so was he from that time called) and the people departed, talking diversely of the matter, every man as his fancy gave him.
But much they talked and marveled of the manner of this dealing, that the matter was on both parts made so strange, as though neither had ever communed thereof with the other before, when that they themselves well knew there was no man so dull who heard them, but he perceived well enough that all the matter was made between them. However, some excused that again and said all must be done in good order. And men must sometimes for the sake of manner not acknowledge what they know. For at the consecration of a bishop, every man knows well by the paying for his bulls that he purposes to be one, even though he pay for nothing else. And yet must he be twice asked whether he will be bishop or not, and he must twice say nay, and at the third time take it as compelled thereunto by his own will. And in a stage play all the people know right well that he who plays the sultan is perchance a shoemaker. Yet if one should be so foolish as to show out of turn what acquaintance he really has with him, and call him by his own name while he acts as his majesty, one of his tormentors might, by chance, break his head, and do so rightly for marring of the play. And so they said that these matters be kings' games, as it were, stage plays, and for the most part played upon scaffolds, in which poor men be but the on-lookers. And they that wise be, will meddle no further. For they who sometimes step up and play with them, when they cannot play their parts, they disorder the play and do themselves no good.
Old Fish Street, Baynard's Castle, Castle Baynard, City of London
Samuel Pepys' Diary 06 August 1666. 06 Aug 1666. Up, and to the office a while, and then by water to my Baroness Montagu's (41), at Westminster, and there visited my Lord Hinchingbroke (18), newly come from Hinchingbroke, and find him a mighty sober gentleman, to my great content.
Thence to Sir Ph. Warwicke (56) and my Lord Treasurer's (59), but failed in my business; so home and in Fenchurch-streete met with Mr. Battersby; says he, "Do you see Dan Rawlinson's door shut up?" (which I did, and wondered). "Why", says he, "after all the sickness, and himself spending all the last year in the country, one of his men is now dead of the plague, and his wife and one of his mayds sicke, and himself shut up"; which troubles me mightily.
So home; and there do hear also from Mrs. Sarah Daniel, that Greenwich is at this time much worse than ever it was, and Deptford too: and she told us that they believed all the towne would leave the towne and come to London; which is now the receptacle of all the people from all infected places. God preserve us!
So by and by to dinner, and, after dinner in comes Mrs. Knipp, and I being at the office went home to her, and there I sat and talked with her, it being the first time of her being here since her being brought to bed. I very pleasant with her; but perceive my wife hath no great pleasure in her being here, she not being pleased with my kindnesse to her. However, we talked and sang, and were very pleasant.
By and by comes Mr. Pierce and his wife, the first time she also hath been here since her lying-in, both having been brought to bed of boys, and both of them dead. And here we talked, and were pleasant, only my wife in a chagrin humour, she not being pleased with my kindnesse to either of them, and by and by she fell into some silly discourse wherein I checked her, which made her mighty pettish, and discoursed mighty offensively to Mrs. Pierce, which did displease me, but I would make no words, but put the discourse by as much as I could (it being about a report that my wife said was made of herself and meant by Mrs. Pierce, that she was grown a gallant, when she had but so few suits of clothes these two or three years, and a great deale of that silly discourse), and by and by Mrs. Pierce did tell her that such discourses should not trouble her, for there went as bad on other people, and particularly of herself at this end of the towne, meaning my wife, that she was crooked, which was quite false, which my wife had the wit not to acknowledge herself to be the speaker of, though she has said it twenty times. But by this means we had little pleasure in their visit; however, Knipp and I sang, and then I offered them to carry them home, and to take my wife with me, but she would not go: so I with them, leaving my wife in a very ill humour, and very slighting to them, which vexed me. However, I would not be removed from my civility to them, but sent for a coach, and went with them; and, in our way, Knipp saying that she come out of doors without a dinner to us, I took them to Old Fish Streete, to the very house and woman where I kept my wedding dinner, where I never was since, and there I did give them a joie of salmon, and what else was to be had. And here we talked of the ill-humour of my wife, which I did excuse as much as I could, and they seemed to admit of it, but did both confess they wondered at it; but from thence to other discourse, and among others to that of my Lord Bruncker (46) and Mrs. Williams, who it seems do speake mighty hardly of me for my not treating them, and not giving her something to her closett, and do speake worse of my wife, and dishonourably, but it is what she do of all the world, though she be a whore herself; so I value it not. But they told me how poorly my Lord carried himself the other day to his kinswoman, Mrs. Howard, and was displeased because she called him uncle to a little gentlewoman that is there with him, which he will not admit of; for no relation is to be challenged from others to a lord, and did treat her thereupon very rudely and ungenteely.
Knipp tells me also that my Lord keeps another woman besides Mrs. Williams; and that, when I was there the other day, there was a great hubbub in the house, Mrs. Williams being fallen sicke, because my Lord was gone to his other mistresse, making her wait for him, till his return from the other mistresse; and a great deale of do there was about it; and Mrs. Williams swounded at it, at the very time when I was there and wondered at the reason of my being received so negligently. I set them both at home, Knipp at her house, her husband being at the doore; and glad she was to be found to have staid out so long with me and Mrs. Pierce, and none else; and Mrs. Pierce at her house, and am mightily pleased with the discretion of her during the simplicity and offensiveness of my wife's discourse this afternoon. I perceive by the new face at Mrs. Pierce's door that our Mary is gone from her.
So I home, calling on W. Joyce in my coach, and staid and talked a little with him, who is the same silly prating fellow that ever he was, and so home, and there find my wife mightily out of order, and reproaching of Mrs. Pierce and Knipp as wenches, and I know not what. But I did give her no words to offend her, and quietly let all pass, and so to bed without any good looke or words to or from my wife.
Church of St Mary Magdalen, Old Fish Street, Baynard's Castle, Castle Baynard, City of London
Samuel Pepys' Diary 13 May 1660. 13 May 1660. Lord's Day. Trimmed in the morning, after that to the cook's room with Mr. Sheply, the first time that I was there this voyage. Then to the quarter-deck, upon which the tailors and painters were at work, cutting out some pieces of yellow cloth into the fashion of a crown and C. R. and put it upon a fine sheet, and that into the flag instead of the State's arms, which after dinner was finished and set up after it had been shewn to my Lord, who took physic to-day and was in his chamber, and liked it so well as to bid me give the tailors 20s. among them for doing of it. This morn Sir J. Boys and Capt. Isham met us in the Nonsuch, the first of whom, after a word or two with my Lord, went forward, the other staid. I heard by them how Mr Downing (35) had never made any address to the King, and for that was hated exceedingly by the Court, and that he was in a Dutch ship which sailed by us, then going to England with disgrace. Also how Mr. Morland was knighted by the King this week, and that the King did give the reason of it openly, that it was for his giving him intelligence all the time he was clerk to Secretary Thurloe. In the afternoon a council of war, only to acquaint them that the Harp must be taken out of all their flags1, it being very offensive to the King. Mr. Cook, who came after us in the Yarmouth, bringing me a letter from my wife and a Latin letter from my brother John, with both of which I was exceedingly pleased. No sermon all day, we being under sail, only at night prayers, wherein Mr. Ibbott prayed for all that were related to us in a spiritual and fleshly way. We came within sight of Middle's shore. Late at night we writ letters to the King of the news of our coming, and Mr. Edward Pickering (42) carried them. Capt. Isham went on shore, nobody showing of him any respect; so the old man very fairly took leave of my Lord, and my Lord very coldly bid him "God be with you", which was very strange, but that I hear that he keeps a great deal of prating and talking on shore, on board, at the King's (29) Courts, what command he had with my Lord, &c. After letters were gone then to bed.
Note 1. In May, 1658, the old Union Jack (being the crosses of St. George and St. Andrew combined) was revived, with the Irish harp over the centre of the flag. This harp was taken off at the Restoration. (See "The National Flags of the Commonwealth", by H. W. Henfrey, Journ. Brit. Arch. Assoc"., vol. xxxi, p. 54.) The sign of the "Commonwealth Arms" was an uncommon one, but a token of one exists Francis Wood at ye Commonwealth arms in Mary Maudlens".
Feathers Tavern, Old Fish Street, Baynard's Castle, Castle Baynard, City of London
Samuel Pepys' Diary 17 October 1660. 17 Oct 1660. Office day. At noon came Mr. Creed to me, whom I took along with me to the Feathers in Fish Street, where I was invited by Captain Cuttance to dinner, a dinner made by Mr. Dawes and his brother. We had two or three dishes of meat well done; their great design was to get me concerned in a business of theirs about a vessel of theirs that is in the service, hired by the King, in which I promise to do them all the service I can. From thence home again with Mr. Crew (62), where I finding Mrs. The. Turner (8) and her aunt Duke I would not be seen but walked in the garden till they were gone, where Mr. Spong came to me and Mr. Creed, Mr. Spong and I went to our music to sing, and he being gone, my wife and I went to put up my books in order in closet, and I to give her her books. After that to bed.
The Swan Old Fish Street, Baynard's Castle, Castle Baynard, City of London
Samuel Pepys' Diary 20 January 1660. 20 Jan 1660. Friday. In the morning I went to Mr Downing's (35) bedside and gave him an account what I had done as to his guests, land I went thence to my Lord Widdrington who I met in the street, going to seal the patents for the judges to-day, and so could not come to dinner. I called upon Mr. Calthrop (36) about the money due to my Lord. Here I met with Mr. Woodfine and drank with him at Sun in Chancery Lane and so to Westminster Hall, where at the lobby I spoke with the rest of my guests and so to my office. At noon went by water with Mr. Maylard and Hales to Swan in Fish Street at our Goal Feast, where we were very merry at our Jole of Ling, and from thence after a great and good dinner Mr. Falconberge would go drink a cup of ale at a place where I had like to have shot at a scholar that lay over the house of office. Thence calling on Mr. Stephens and Wootton (with whom I drank) about business of my Lord's (34) I went to the Coffee Club where there was nothing done but choosing of a Committee for orders. Thence to Westminster Hall where Mrs. Lane and the rest of the maids had their white scarfs, all having been at the burial of a young bookseller in the Hall1.
Thence to Mr. Sheply's and took him to my house and drank with him in order to his going to-morrow. So parted and I sat up late making up my accounts before he go. This day three citizens of London went to meet Monk (51) from the Common Council2!
Note 1. These stationers and booksellers, whose shops disfigured Westminster Hall down to a late period, were a privileged class. In the statutes for appointing licensers and regulating the press, there is a clause exempting them from the pains and penalties of these obnoxious laws.
Note 2. Jan. 20th. Then there went out of the City, by desire of the Lord Mayor and Court of Aldermen, Alderman Fowke and Alderman Vincett, alias Vincent, and Mr. Broomfield, to compliment General Monk (51), who lay at Harborough Town, in Leicestershire.
Jan. 21st. Because the Speaker was sick, and Lord General Monk (51) so near London, and everybody thought that the City would suffer for their affronts to the soldiery, and because they had sent the sword-bearer to, the General without the Parliament's consent, and the three Aldermen were gone to give him the welcome to town, these four lines were in almost everybody's mouth:
Monk under a hood, not well understood,.
The City pull in their horns;.
The Speaker is out, and sick of the gout,.
And the Parliament sit upon thorns.
—Rugge's 'Diurnal.' B.
Samuel Pepys' Diary 15 August 1662. 15 Aug 1662. Up very early, and up about seeing how my work proceeds, and am pretty well pleased therewith; especially my wife's closet will be very pretty.
So to the office and there very busy, and many people coming to me.
At noon to the Change, and there hear of some Quakers that are seized on, that would have blown up the prison in Southwark where they are put.
So to the Swan in Old Fish Street, where Mr. Brigden and his father-in-law, Blackbury, of whom we had bought timber in the office, but have not dealt well with us, did make me a fine dinner only to myself; and after dinner comes in a jugler, which shewed us very pretty tricks. I seemed very pleasant, but am no friend to the man's dealings with us in the office.
After an hour or two sitting after dinner talking about office business, where I had not spent any time a great while, I went to Paul's Church Yard to my bookseller's; and there I hear that next Sunday will be the last of a great many Presbyterian ministers in town, who, I hear, will give up all. I pray God the issue may be good, for the discontent is great.
Home and to my office till 9 at night doing business, and so to bed. My mind well pleased with a letter I found at home from Mr. Coventry (34), expressing his satisfaction in a letter I writ last night, and sent him this morning, to be corrected by him in order to its sending down to all the Yards as a charge to them.
Cannon Street, Castle Baynard, City of London
Samuel Pepys' Diary 02 September 1666. 02 Sep 1666. Lord's Day. Some of our mayds sitting up late last night to get things ready against our feast to-day, Jane called us up about three in the morning, to tell us of a great fire they saw in the City. So I rose and slipped on my nightgowne, and went to her window, and thought it to be on the backside of Marke-lane at the farthest; but, being unused to such fires as followed, I thought it far enough off; and so went to bed again and to sleep. About seven rose again to dress myself, and there looked out at the window, and saw the fire not so much as it was and further off.
So to my closett to set things to rights after yesterday's cleaning.
By and by Jane comes and tells me that she hears that above 300 houses have been burned down to-night by the fire we saw, and that it is now burning down all Fish-street, by London Bridge. So I made myself ready presently, and walked to the Tower, and there got up upon one of the high places, Sir J. Robinson's (51) little son going up with me; and there I did see the houses at that end of the bridge all on fire, and an infinite great fire on this and the other side the end of the bridge; which, among other people, did trouble me for poor little Michell and our Sarah on the bridge. So down, with my heart full of trouble, to the Lieutenant of the Tower (51), who tells me that it begun this morning in the King's baker's' house in Pudding-lane, and that it hath burned St. Magnus's Church and most part of Fish-street already.
So I down to the water-side, and there got a boat and through bridge, and there saw a lamentable fire. Poor Michell's house, as far as the Old Swan, already burned that way, and the fire running further, that in a very little time it got as far as the Steeleyard, while I was there. Everybody endeavouring to remove their goods, and flinging into the river or bringing them into lighters that layoff; poor people staying in their houses as long as till the very fire touched them, and then running into boats, or clambering from one pair of stairs by the water-side to another. And among other things, the poor pigeons, I perceive, were loth to leave their houses, but hovered about the windows and balconys till they were, some of them burned, their wings, and fell down.
Having staid, and in an hour's time seen the fire: rage every way, and nobody, to my sight, endeavouring to quench it, but to remove their goods, and leave all to the fire, and having seen it get as far as the Steele-yard, and the wind mighty high and driving it into the City; and every thing, after so long a drought, proving combustible, even the very stones of churches, and among other things the poor steeple by which pretty Mrs.————lives, and whereof my old school-fellow Elborough is parson, taken fire in the very top, an there burned till it fell down: I to White Hall (with a gentleman with me who desired to go off from the Tower, to see the fire, in my boat); to White Hall, and there up to the Kings closett in the Chappell, where people come about me, and did give them an account dismayed them all, and word was carried in to the King (36).
So I was called for, and did tell the King (36) and Duke of Yorke (32) what I saw, and that unless his Majesty did command houses to be pulled down nothing could stop the fire. They seemed much troubled, and the King (36) commanded me to go to my Lord Mayor (46)1 from him, and command him to spare no houses, but to pull down before the fire every way. The Duke of York (32) bid me tell him that if he would have any more soldiers he shall; and so did my Lord Arlington (48) afterwards, as a great secret2.
Here meeting, with Captain Cocke (49), I in his coach, which he lent me, and Creed with me to Paul's, and there walked along Watlingstreet, as well as I could, every creature coming away loaden with goods to save, and here and there sicke people carried away in beds. Extraordinary good goods carried in carts and on backs. At last met my Lord Mayor (46) in Canningstreet, like a man spent, with a handkercher about his neck. To the King's message he cried, like a fainting woman, "Lord! what can I do? I am spent: people will not obey me. I have been pulling down houses; but the fire overtakes us faster than we can do it". That he needed no more soldiers; and that, for himself, he must go and refresh himself, having been up all night.
So he left me, and I him, and walked home, seeing people all almost distracted, and no manner of means used to quench the fire. The houses, too, so very thick thereabouts, and full of matter for burning, as pitch and tarr, in Thames-street; and Warehouses of oyle, and wines, and brandy, and other things. Here I saw Mr. Isaake Houblon, the handsome man, prettily dressed and dirty, at his door at Dowgate, receiving some of his brothers' (37) things, whose houses were on fire; and, as he says, have been removed twice already; and he doubts (as it soon proved) that they must be in a little time removed from his house also, which was a sad consideration. And to see the churches all filling with goods by people who themselves should have been quietly there at this time.
By this time it was about twelve o'clock; and so home, and there find my guests, which was Mr. Wood and his wife Barbary Sheldon, and also Mr. Moons: she mighty fine, and her husband; for aught I see, a likely man. But Mr. Moone's design and mine, which was to look over my closett and please him with the sight thereof, which he hath long desired, was wholly disappointed; for we were in great trouble and disturbance at this fire, not knowing what to think of it. However, we had an extraordinary good dinner, and as merry, as at this time we could be. While at dinner Mrs. Batelier come to enquire after Mr. Woolfe and Stanes (who, it seems, are related to them), whose houses in Fish-street are all burned; and they in a sad condition. She would not stay in the fright. Soon as dined, I and Moone away, and walked, through the City, the streets full of nothing but people and horses and carts loaden with goods, ready to run over one another, and, removing goods from one burned house to another.
They now removing out of Canning-streets (which received goods in the morning) into Lumbard-streets, and further; and among others I now saw my little goldsmith, Stokes, receiving some friend's goods, whose house itself was burned the day after. We parted at Paul's; he home, and I to Paul's Wharf, where I had appointed a boat to attend me, and took in Mr. Carcasse and his brother, whom I met in the streets and carried them below and above bridge to and again to see the fire, which was now got further, both below and above and no likelihood of stopping it. Met with the King (36) and Duke of York (32) in their barge, and with them to Queenhith and there called Sir Richard Browne (61) to them. Their order was only to pull down houses apace, and so below bridge the water-side; but little was or could be done, the fire coming upon them so fast. Good hopes there was of stopping it at the Three Cranes above, and at Buttolph's Wharf below bridge, if care be used; but the wind carries it into the City so as we know not by the water-side what it do there. River full of lighters and boats taking in goods, and good goods swimming in the water, and only I observed that hardly one lighter or boat in three that had the goods of a house in, but there was a pair of Virginalls3 in it.
Having seen as much as I could now, I away to White Hall by appointment, and there walked to St. James's Parks, and there met my wife and Creed and Wood and his wife, and walked to my boat; and there upon the water again, and to the fire up and down, it still encreasing, and the wind great. So near the fire as we could for smoke; and all over the Thames, with one's face in the wind, you were almost burned with a shower of firedrops. This is very true; so as houses were burned by these drops and flakes of fire, three or four, nay, five or six houses, one from another. When we could endure no more upon the water; we to a little ale-house on the Bankside, over against the 'Three Cranes, and there staid till it was dark almost, and saw the fire grow; and, as it grew darker, appeared more and more, and in corners and upon steeples, and between churches and houses, as far as we could see up the hill of the City, in a most horrid malicious bloody flame, not like the fine flame of an ordinary fire. Barbary and her husband away before us.
We staid till, it being darkish, we saw the fire as only one entire arch of fire from this to the other side the bridge, and in a bow up the hill for an arch of above a mile long: it made me weep to see it. The churches, houses, and all on fire and flaming at once; and a horrid noise the flames made, and the cracking of houses at their ruins.
So home with a sad heart, and there find every body discoursing and lamenting the fire; and poor Tom Hater come with some few of his goods saved out of his house, which is burned upon Fish-streets Hill. I invited him to lie at my house, and did receive his goods, but was deceived in his lying there, the newes coming every moment of the growth of the fire; so as we were forced to begin to pack up our owne goods; and prepare for their removal; and did by moonshine (it being brave dry, and moon: shine, and warm weather) carry much of my goods into the garden, and Mr. Hater and I did remove my money and iron chests into my cellar, as thinking that the safest place. And got my bags of gold into my office, ready to carry away, and my chief papers of accounts also there, and my tallys into a box by themselves. So great was our fear, as Sir W. Batten (65) hath carts come out of the country to fetch away his goods this night. We did put Mr. Hater, poor man, to bed a little; but he got but very little rest, so much noise being in my house, taking down of goods.
Note 1. Sir Thomas Bludworth (46). See June 30th, 1666.
Note 2. Sir William Coventry wrote to Lord Arlington on the evening of this day, "The Duke of York (32) fears the want of workmen and tools to-morrow morning, and wishes the deputy lieutenants and justices of peace to summon the workmen with tools to be there by break of day. In some churches and chapels are great hooks for pulling down houses, which should be brought ready upon the place to-night against the morning" ("Calendar of State Papers", 1666-66, p. 95).
Note 3. The virginal differed from the spinet in being square instead of triangular in form. The word pair was used in the obsolete sense of a set, as we read also of a pair of organs. The instrument is supposed to have obtained its name from young women, playing upon it.
Samuel Pepys' Diary 05 May 1667. 05 May 1667. Lord's Day. Up, and going down to the water side, I met Sir John Robinson (52), and so with him by coach to White Hall, still a vain, prating, boasting man as any I know, as if the whole City and Kingdom had all its work done by him. He tells me he hath now got a street ordered to be continued, forty feet broad, from Paul's through Cannon Street to the Tower, which will be very fine.
He and others this day, where I was in the afternoon, do tell me of at least six or eight fires within these few days; and continually stirs of fires, and real fires there have been, in one place or other, almost ever since the late great fire, as if there was a fate sent people for fire. I walked over the Park to Sir W. Coventry's (39). Among other things to tell him what I hear of people being forced to sell their bills before September for 35 and 40 per cent. loss, and what is worst, that there are some courtiers that have made a knot to buy them, in hopes of some ways to get money of the King (36) to pay them, which Sir W. Coventry (39) is amazed at, and says we are a people made up for destruction, and will do what he can to prevent all this by getting the King (36) to provide wherewith to pay them.
We talked of Tangier, of which he is ashamed; also that it should put the King (36) to this charge for no good in the world: and now a man going over that is a good soldier, but a debauched man, which the place need not to have. And so used these words: "That this place was to the King (36) as my Lord Carnarvon (34) says of wood, that it is an excrescence of the earth provided by God for the payment of debts".
Thence away to Sir G. Carteret (57), whom I find taking physic. I staid talking with him but a little, and so home to church, and heard a dull sermon, and most of the best women of our parish gone into the country, or at least not at church.
So home, and find my boy not there, nor was at church, which vexed me, and when he come home I enquired, he tells me he went to see his mother. I send him back to her to send me some token that he was with her. So there come a man with him back of good fashion. He says he saw him with her, which pacified me, but I did soundly threaten him before him, and so to dinner, and then had a little scolding with my wife for not being fine enough to go to the christening to-day, which she excused by being ill, as she was indeed, and cried, but I was in an ill humour and ashamed, indeed, that she should not go dressed. However, friends by and by, and we went by water to Michell's, and there his little house full of his father and mothers and the kindred, hardly any else, and mighty merry in this innocent company, and Betty mighty pretty in bed, but, her head akeing, not very merry, but the company mighty merry, and I with them, and so the child was christened; my wife, his father, and her mother, the witnesses, and the child's name Elizabeth. So we had gloves and wine and wafers, very pretty, and talked and tattled, and so we away by water and up with the tide, she and I and Barker, as high as Barne Elmes, it being a fine evening, and back again to pass the bridges at standing water between 9 and 10 at might, and then home and to supper, and then to bed with much pleasure.
This day Sir W. Coventry (39) tells me the Dutch fleete shot some shot, four or five hundred, into Burnt-Island in the Frith, but without any hurt; and so are gone.
London Stone Cannon Street, Castle Baynard, City of London
Martin Lane, Cannon Street, Castle Baynard, City of London
Church of St Martin Orgar Martin Lane, Cannon Street, Castle Baynard, City of London
Before 14 Jul 1585 Anne Hewett 1544-1585 died. She was buried at the Church of St Martin Orgar Martin Lane.
St. Swithin's Lane, Cannon Street, Castle Baynard, City of London
Letters and Papers Foreign and Domestic Henry VIII Volume 4 1524 1530. 30 Jun 1528. R. O. 4442. Sir William Compton (46).
Will of Sir William Compton, made on 8 March 1522, 14 Hen. VIII. Desires to be buried at Compton in Warwickshire, beside his ancestors:—That if his wife die before he return home from his journey, she be afterwards brought to Compton and buried there. Bequeaths to his wife movables at Bettyschorne, and at the great park of Windsor, and the plate which belonged to Francis Cheyny, "my predecessor." If his wife be delivered of a son, bequeaths to him all his household stuff at Compton, with the plate which was given him by the French king in a schedule. His wife to have the control of it till the child be of age. If he have a son, bequeaths to each of his daughters 1,000 marks for their marriages, and 100 marks in plate. Wills that 40 pair of vestments be made of one suit, to be distributed to the parish churches in the counties of Warwick and Worcester, adjoining to Compton. All his apparel to be used in making vestments and other works of charity. Bequeaths to the abbey of Winchcomb his wedding gown of tynsen satin, to make a vestment that they may pray for the souls of his ancestors. Wills his executors to release to the monastery of Denny all the debts they owe him, and bequeaths to them 10l. for an obit. Bequeaths goods to the value of 200 marks to be distributed to poor householders, and to the marriages of poor maids in the counties of Warwick and Worcester. Wills that a tomb of alabaster be prepared for his father, with his arms graven upon it. Bequeaths to the King (37) his little chest of ivory with gilt lock, "and a chest bourde under the same, and a pair of tables upon it," with all the jewels and treasure enclosed, now in his wife's custody; also "certain specialties to the sum of 1,000 marks, which I have of Sir Thos. Bullen (51), knight," for money lent to him. Wills that his children have their plate on coming to their full ages; i.e., on the males coming to the age of twenty-one, and the females to the age of eighteen.
Bequests to his sister [Elizabeth] Rudney, and his cousin John Rudney, her son. Wills that his mother's body be taken up and buried at Compton. Bequest to the daughter of his aunt Appulby. 20l. to be put in a box at the abbey of Winchecombe, to make defence for all such actions as may be wrongfully taken against his wife or his executors. Two chantries to be founded in his name at Compton, to do daily service for the souls of the King, the Queen, my lady Anne Hastings (45), himself, his wife and ancestors. The priests to be appointed by the abbot of Winchecombe, or, failing him, the abbot of Evesham. 5 marks a year to be paid to the parson of Compton to keep a free grammar school. 100l. a year to be paid to his wife during her life, for her jointure, besides her inheritance in Barkeley's lands. Bequests to the monasteries of Evesham, Hayles, Winchecombe, Worcester, Croxton, the charterhouses of Henton and Coventry, for obits; to Sir William Tyler, Sir Thos. Lynne, Thos. Baskett and George Lynde; to his servants who happen to be with him this journey; to John Draper, his servant, and Robt. Bencare, his solicitor; to Griffin Gynne, now with Humphrey Brown, serjeant-at-law, for his learning; and to lady Anne Hastings (45). Executors appointed: Dame Warburgh my wife, the bishop of Exeter (66), Sir Henry Marney, lord privy-seal, Sir Henry Guildford (39), Sir Ric. Broke, Sir John Dantsy, Dr. Chomber, Humphrey Brown, serjeant-at-law, Thos. Leson, clk., Jas. Clarell and Thos. Unton. Appoints my lord bishop of Canterbury (78) supervisor of his will. Gifts to the executors.
3. Bargain and sale by Sir Henry Guildford (39), Humphrey Brown, Thos. Hunton and Thos. Leeson, as executors of Sir William Compton, to Sir Thomas Arundell, of certain tenements in St. Swithin's Lane, [London,] lately in the possession of Lewis ... and Humphrey ... as executors of Sir Richard Wingfield.
4. Inventory of the goods of Sir Wm. Compton in his house in London.
Ready money, gold and silver, 1,338l. 7s. 0½d. Jewels of gold and silver, 898l. 6s. 2d. Gilt plate, 85l. 5s. 3d. Parcel gilt plate, 31l. 12s. 2d. White plate, 90l. 0s. 3½d. Silks, 210l. 13s. 6d.=2,654l. 4s. 5d.
5. Names of the officers upon the lands late Sir Wm. Compton's.
[Note. Lots of names of Steward and Bailiffs and values.].
6. Inquisition taken in Middlesex on the death of Sir Will. Compton, 20 Hen. VIII.
Found that Ric. Broke, serjeant-at-law, [Walter Rodney] [Names in brackets crossed out], Will. Dyngley and John Dyngley, now surviving, with [Sir Rob. Throgmerton and Will. Tracy,]* deceased, were seized of the manors of Totenham, Pembrokes, Bruses, Daubeneys and Mokkyngs, with lands in Tottenham, Edelmeton and Enfeld, to Compton's use; and that Geo. earl of Shrewsbury (60), Henry earl of Essex, John Bourchier lord Bernes (61), [Sir Rob. Ratclyf,]* Rob. Brudenell (67), justice of the King's Bench, Ric. Sacheverell (61) [and Thos. Brokesby],* now surviving, with [Sir Ralph Shyrley,]* deceased, were seized of the manor of Fyncheley and lands in Fyncheley and Hendon to his use. His son, Peter Compton (5), is his heir, and is six years old and over.
7. Citation by Wolsey (55), as legate, of Sir Wm. Compton, for having lived in adultery with the wife (45) of Lord Hastings (41), while his own wife, dame Anne Stafford Countess Huntingdon 1483-1544 (45), was alive, and for having taken the sacrament to disprove it.
4443. SIR WILL. COMPTON.
Inventory of the goods of Sir Will. Compton at his places in London, Compton, Bittisthorne, the Great Park of Windsor, Sir Walter Stoner's place. Total of moveables, 4,485l. 2s. 3½d. "Sperat dettes," estimated at 3,511l. 13s. 4d. "Chatell Royall," 666l. 13s. 4d.
Wards.—One ward that cost 466l. 13s. 4d.; another of 500 marks land; the third, "Sir Geo. Salynger's son and his heir." There is at Windsor Great Park plate embezzled to the value of 579l. 2s. 6d., as appears by a bill found in Sir William's place at London. Desperate debts estimated at 1,908l. 6s. 8d. Debts owing by him estimated at 1,000l.
Chatham Place, Castle Baynard, City of London
14 Chatham Place, Castle Baynard, City of London
On 11 Feb 1862 at twenty past seven in the morning Elizabeth Siddal Model 1829-1862 (32) overdosed on laudanum at 14 Chatham Place. Possibly suicide - there may have been a note that said "look after Harry (her invalid brother)" which Ford Madox Brown persuaded Dante Gabriel Rossetti Painter 1828-1882 (33) to burn.
Gresham Street, Castle Baynard, City of London
Goldsmiths Hall, Gresham Street, Castle Baynard, City of London
Samuel Pepys' Diary 01 June 1665. 01 Jun 1665. Up and to the office, where sat all the morning, at noon to the 'Change, and there did some business, and home to dinner, whither Creed comes, and after dinner I put on my new silke camelott sute; the best that ever I wore in my life, the sute costing me above £24. In this I went with Creed to Goldsmiths' Hall, to the burial of Sir Thomas Viner; which Hall, and Haberdashers also, was so full of people, that we were fain for ease and coolness to go forth to Pater Noster Row, to choose a silke to make me a plain ordinary suit.
That done, we walked to Cornehill, and there at Mr. Cade's' stood in the balcon and saw all the funeral, which was with the blue-coat boys and old men, all the Aldermen, and Lord Mayor, &c., and the number of the company very great; the greatest I ever did see for a taverne. Hither come up to us Dr. Allen, and then Mr. Povy (51) and Mr. Fox (38). The show being over, and my discourse with Mr. Povy (51), I took coach and to Westminster Hall, where I took the fairest flower, and by coach to Tothill Fields for the ayre till it was dark. I 'light, and in with the fairest flower to eat a cake, and there did do as much as was safe with my flower, and that was enough on my part.
Broke up, and away without any notice, and, after delivering the rose where it should be, I to the Temple and 'light, and come to the middle door, and there took another coach, and so home to write letters, but very few, God knows, being by my pleasure made to forget everything that is. The coachman that carried [us] cannot know me again, nor the people at the house where we were.
Home to bed, certain news being come that our fleete is in sight of the Dutch ships.
Gutter Lane, Castle Baynard, City of London
Saddler's Hall Gutter Lane, Castle Baynard, City of London
On 04 Aug 1681 William Chiffinch 1602-1691 (79) was present at the famous loyal feast of the apprentices at Saddler's Hall Gutter Lane.
St Bride's Church, Castle Baynard, City of London
On 23 Feb 1633 Samuel Pepys Diarist 1633-1703 was born to John Pepys Tailor 1601-1680 (32) and Margaret Kite -1667 in Salisbury Court. He was baptised at St Bride's Church by James Palmer Vicar St Brides 1585-1660 (51).
Samuel Pepys' Diary 22 August 1660. 22 Aug 1660. Office, which done, Sir W. Pen (39) took me into the garden, and there told me how Mr. Turner do intend to petition the Duke for an allowance extra as one of the Clerks of the Navy, which he desired me to join with him in the furthering of, which I promised to do so that it did not reflect upon me or to my damage to have any other added, as if I was not able to perform my place; which he did wholly disown to be any of his intention, but far from it. I took Mr. Hater home with me to dinner, with whom I did advise, who did give me the same counsel. After dinner he and I to the office about doing something more as to the debts of the Navy than I had done yesterday, and so to Whitehall to the Privy Seal, and having done there, with my father (who came to see me) to Westminster Hall and the Parliament House to look for Col. Birch (44), but found him not. In the House, after the Committee was up, I met with Mr. G. Montagu (38), and joyed him in his entrance (this being his 3d day) for Dover. Here he made me sit all alone in the House, none but he and I, half an hour, discoursing how things stand, and in short he told me how there was like to be many factions at Court between Marquis Ormond, General Monk (51), and the Lord Roberts (54), about the business of Ireland; as there is already between the two Houses about the Act of Indemnity; and in the House of Commons, between the Episcopalian and Presbyterian men. Hence to my father's (59) (walking with Mr. Herring, the minister of St. Bride's), and took them to the Sun Tavern, where I found George, my old drawer, come again. From thence by water, landed them at Blackfriars, and so home and to bed.
Samuel Pepys' Diary 16 February 1662. 16 Feb 1662. Lord's Day. To church this morning, and so home and to dinner. In the afternoon I walked to St. Bride's to church, to hear Dr. Jacomb preach upon the recovery, and at the request of Mrs. Turner (39), who came abroad this day, the first time since her long sickness. He preached upon David's words, "I shall not die, but live, and declare the works of the Lord", and made a pretty good sermon, though not extraordinary.
After sermon I led her home, and sat with her, and there was the Dr. got before us; but strange what a command he hath got over Mrs. Turner (39), who was so carefull to get him what he would, after his preaching, to drink, and he, with a cunning gravity, knows how to command, and had it, and among other things told us that he heard more of the Common Prayer this afternoon (while he stood in the vestry, before he went up into the pulpitt) than he had heard this twenty years. .
Thence to my uncle Wight to meet my wife, and with other friends of hers and his met by chance we were very merry, and supped, and so home, not being very well through my usual pain got by cold.
So to prayers and to bed, and there had a good draft of mulled ale brought me.
Samuel Pepys' Diary 10 August 1662. 10 Aug 1662. Lord's Day. Being to dine at my brother's, I walked to St. Dunstan's, the church being now finished; and here I heard Dr. Bates,' who made a most eloquent sermon; and I am sorry I have hitherto had so low an opinion of the man, for I have not heard a neater sermon a great while, and more to my content.
So to Tom's, where Dr. Fairebrother, newly come from Cambridge, met me, and Dr. Thomas Pepys (41). I framed myself as pleasant as I could, but my mind was another way. Hither came my uncle Fenner, hearing that I was here, and spoke to me about Pegg Kite's business of her portion, which her husband demands, but I will have nothing to do with it. I believe he has no mind to part with the money out of his hands, but let him do what he will with it. He told me the new service-book1 (which is now lately come forth) was laid upon their deske at St. Sepulchre's for Mr. Gouge to read; but he laid it aside, and would not meddle with it: and I perceive the Presbyters do all prepare to give over all against Bartholomew-tide2. Mr. Herring, being lately turned out at St. Bride's, did read the psalm to the people while they sung at Dr. Bates's, which methought is a strange turn.
After dinner to St. Bride's, and there heard one Carpenter, an old man, who, they say, hath been a Jesuit priest, and is come over to us; but he preaches very well.
So home with Mrs. Turner (39), and there hear that Mr. Calamy hath taken his farewell this day of his people, and that others will do so the next. Sunday. Mr. Turner, the draper, I hear, is knighted, made Alderman, and pricked for Sheriffe, with Sir Thomas Bluddel, for the next year, by the King (32), and so are called with great honour the King's Sheriffes.
Thence walked home, meeting Mr. Moore by the way, and he home with me and walked till it was dark in the garden, and so good night, and I to my closet in my office to perfect my Journall and to read my solemn vows, and so to bed.
Note 1. The Common Prayer Book of 1662, now in use.
Note 2. Thomas Gouge (1609-1681), an eminent Presbyterian minister, son of William Gouge, D.D. (lecturer at and afterwards Rector of St. Anne's, Blackfriars). He was vicar of the parish of St. Sepulchre from 1638 until the Act of Uniformity, in 1662, forced him to resign his living.
Before 02 Feb 1663 Henry Cumberland Tailor -1663 died. He was buried at St Bride's Church.
Samuel Pepys' Diary 20 August 1663. 20 Aug 1663. Up betimes and to my office (having first been angry with my brother John, and in the heat of my sudden passion called him Asse and coxcomb, for which I am sorry, it being but for leaving the key of his chamber with a spring lock within side of his door), and there we sat all the morning, and at noon dined at home, and there found a little girl, which she told my wife her name was Jinny, by which name we shall call her. I think a good likely girl, and a parish child of St. Bride's, of honest parentage, and recommended by the churchwarden.
After dinner among my joyners laying my floors, which please me well, and so to my office, and we sat this afternoon upon an extraordinary business of victualling.
In the evening came Commissioner Pett (53), who fell foule on mee for my carriage to him at Chatham, wherein, after protestation of my love and good meaning to him, he was quiet; but I doubt he will not be able to do the service there that any other man of his ability would.
Home in the evening my viall (and lute new strung being brought home too), and I would have paid Mr. Hunt for it, but he did not come along with it himself, which I expected and was angry for it, so much is it against my nature to owe anything to any body.
This evening the girle that was brought to me to-day for so good a one, being cleansed of lice this day by my wife, and good, new clothes put on her back, she run away from Goody Taylour that was shewing her the way to the bakehouse, and we heard no more of her.
So to supper and to bed.
Samuel Pepys' Diary 21 August 1663. 21 Aug 1663. Up betimes and among my joyners, and to my office, where the joyners are also laying mouldings in the inside of my closet. Then abroad and by water to White Hall, and there got Sir G. Carteret (53) to sign me my last quarter's bills for my wages, and meeting with Mr. Creed he told me how my Lord Teviott hath received another attaque from Guyland at Tangier with 10,000 men, and at last, as is said, is come, after a personal treaty with him, to a good understanding and peace with him.
Thence to my brother's, and there told him how my girl has served us which he sent me, and directed him to get my clothes again, and get the girl whipped.
So to other places by the way about small businesses, and so home, and after looking over all my workmen, I went by water and land to Deptford, and there found by appointment Sir W. Batten (62), but he was got to Mr. Waith's to dinner, where I dined with him, a good dinner and good discourse, and his wife, I believe, a good woman. We fell in discourse of Captain Cocke (46), and how his lady has lost all her fine linen almost, but besides that they say she gives out she had £3000 worth of linen, which we all laugh at, and Sir W. Batten (62) (who I perceive is not so fond of the Captain as he used to be, and less of her, from her slight receiving of him and his lady it seems once) told me how he should say that he see he must spend £700 per ann. get it how he could, which was a high speech, and by all men's discover, his estate not good enough to spend so much.
After dinner altered our design to go to Woolwich, and put it off to to-morrow morning, and so went all to Greenwich (Mrs. Waith excepted, who went thither, but not to the same house with us, but to her father's, that lives there), to the musique-house, where we had paltry musique, till the master organist came, whom by discourse I afterwards knew, having employed him for my Lord Sandwich (38), to prick out something (his name Arundell), and he did give me a fine voluntary or two, and so home by water, and at home I find my girl that run away brought by a bedel of St. Bride's Parish, and stripped her and sent her away, and a newe one come, of Griffin's helping to, which I think will prove a pretty girl. Her name, Susan, and so to supper after having this evening paid Mr. Hunt £3 for my viall (besides the carving which I paid this day 10s. for to the carver), and he tells me that I may, without flattery, say, I have as good a Theorbo viall and viallin as is in England.
So to bed.
Samuel Pepys' Diary 18 March 1664. 18 Mar 1664. Up betimes, and walked to my brother's, where a great while putting things in order against anon; then to Madam Turner's (41) and eat a breakfast there, and so to Wotton, my shoemaker, and there got a pair of shoes blacked on the soles against anon for me; so to my brother's and to church, and with the grave-maker chose a place for my brother to lie in, just under my mother's pew. But to see how a man's tombes are at the mercy of such a fellow, that for sixpence he would, (as his owne words were,) "I will justle them together but I will make room for him"; speaking of the fulness of the middle isle, where he was to lie; and that he would, for my father's sake, do my brother that is dead all the civility he can; which was to disturb other corps that are not quite rotten, to make room for him; and methought his manner of speaking it was very remarkable; as of a thing that now was in his power to do a man a courtesy or not.
At noon my wife, though in pain, comes, but I being forced to go home, she went back with me, where I dressed myself, and so did Besse; and so to my brother's again: whither, though invited, as the custom is, at one or two o'clock, they came not till four or five. But at last one after another they come, many more than I bid: and my reckoning that I bid was one hundred and twenty; but I believe there was nearer one hundred and fifty. Their service was six biscuits apiece, and what they pleased of burnt claret. My cosen Joyce Norton kept the wine and cakes above; and did give out to them that served, who had white gloves given them. But above all, I am beholden to Mrs. Holden, who was most kind, and did take mighty pains not only in getting the house and every thing else ready, but this day in going up and down to see, the house filled and served, in order to mine, and their great content, I think; the men sitting by themselves in some rooms, and women by themselves in others, very close, but yet room enough.
Anon to church, walking out into the streete to the Conduit, and so across the streete, and had a very good company along with the corps. And being come to the grave as above, Dr. Pierson, the minister of the parish, did read the service for buriall: and so I saw my poor brother laid into the grave; and so all broke up; and I and my wife and Madam Turner (41) and her family to my brother's, and by and by fell to a barrell of oysters, cake, and cheese, of Mr. Honiwood's, with him, in his chamber and below, being too merry for so late a sad work.
But, Lord! to see how the world makes nothing of the memory of a man, an houre after he is dead! And, indeed, I must blame myself; for though at the sight of him dead and dying, I had real grief for a while, while he was in my sight, yet presently after, and ever since, I have had very little grief indeed for him.
By and by, it beginning to be late, I put things in some order in the house, and so took my wife and Besse (who hath done me very good service in cleaning and getting ready every thing and serving the wine and things to-day, and is indeed a most excellent good-natured and faithful wench, and I love her mightily), by coach home, and so after being at the office to set down the day's work home to supper and to bed.
Samuel Pepys' Diary 06 April 1664. 06 Apr 1664. Up and to my office, whither by and by came John Noble, my father's old servant, to speake with me. I smelling the business, took him home; and there, all alone, he told me how he had been serviceable to my brother Tom, in the business of his getting his servant, an ugly jade, Margaret, with child. She was brought to bed in St. Sepulchre's parish of two children; one is dead, the other is alive; her name Elizabeth, and goes by the name of Taylor, daughter to John Taylor. It seems Tom did a great while trust one Crawly with the business, who daily got money of him; and at last, finding himself abused, he broke the matter to J. Noble, upon a vowe of secresy. Tom's first plott was to go on the other side the water and give a beggar woman something to take the child. They did once go, but did nothing, J. Noble saying that seven years hence the mother might come to demand the child and force him to produce it, or to be suspected of murder. Then I think it was that they consulted, and got one Cave, a poor pensioner in St. Bride's parish to take it, giving him £5, he thereby promising to keepe it for ever without more charge to them. The parish hereupon indite the man Cave for bringing this child upon the parish, and by Sir Richard Browne (59) he is sent to the Counter. Cave thence writes to Tom to get him out. Tom answers him in a letter of his owne hand, which J. Noble shewed me, but not signed by him, wherein he speaks of freeing him and getting security for him, but nothing as to the business of the child, or anything like it: so that forasmuch as I could guess, there is nothing therein to my brother's prejudice as to the main point, and therefore I did not labour to tear or take away the paper. Cave being released, demands £5 more to secure my brother for ever against the child; and he was forced to give it him and took bond of Cave in £100, made at a scrivener's, one Hudson, I think, in the Old Bayly, to secure John Taylor, and his assigns, &c. (in consideration of £10 paid him), from all trouble, or charge of meat, drink, clothes, and breeding of Elizabeth Taylor; and it seems, in the doing of it, J. Noble was looked upon as the assignee of this John Taylor. Noble says that he furnished Tom with this money, and is also bound by another bond to pay him 20s. more this next Easter Monday; but nothing for either sum appears under Tom's hand. I told him how I am like to lose a great sum by his death, and would not pay any more myself, but I would speake to my father about it against the afternoon.
So away he went, and I all the morning in my office busy, and at noon home to dinner mightily oppressed with wind, and after dinner took coach and to Paternoster Row, and there bought a pretty silke for a petticoate for my wife, and thence set her down at the New Exchange, and I leaving the coat at Unthanke's, went to White Hall, but the Councell meeting at Worcester House I went thither, and there delivered to the Duke of Albemarle (55) a paper touching some Tangier business, and thence to the 'Change for my wife, and walked to my father's, who was packing up some things for the country. I took him up and told him this business of Tom, at which the poor wretch was much troubled, and desired me that I would speak with J. Noble, and do what I could and thought fit in it without concerning him in it. So I went to Noble, and saw the bond that Cave did give and also Tom's letter that I mentioned above, and upon the whole I think some shame may come, but that it will be hard from any thing I see there to prove the child to be his.
Thence to my father and told what I had done, and how I had quieted Noble by telling him that, though we are resolved to part with no more money out of our own purses, yet if he can make it appear a true debt that it may be justifiable for us to pay it, we will do our part to get it paid, and said that I would have it paid before my own debt. So my father and I both a little satisfied, though vexed to think what a rogue my brother was in all respects. I took my wife by coach home, and to my office, where late with Sir W. Warren, and so home to supper and to bed. I heard to-day that the Dutch have begun with us by granting letters of marke against us; but I believe it not.
Samuel Pepys' Diary 06 January 1667. 06 Jan 1667. Lord's Day. Up pretty well in the morning, and then to church, where a dull doctor, a stranger, made a dull sermon. Then home, and Betty Michell and her husband come by invitation to dine with us, and, she I find the same as ever (which I was afraid of the contrary)... Here come also Mr. Howe to dine with me, and we had a good dinner and good merry discourse with much pleasure, I enjoying myself mightily to have friends at my table.
After dinner young Michell and I, it being an excellent frosty day to walk, did walk out, he showing me the baker's house in Pudding Lane, where the late great fire begun; and thence all along Thames Street, where I did view several places, and so up by London Wall, by Blackfriars, to Ludgate; and thence to Bridewell, which I find to have been heretofore an extraordinary good house, and a fine coming to it, before the house by the bridge was built; and so to look about St. Bride's church and my father's house, and so walked home, and there supped together, and then Michell and Betty home, and I to my closet, there to read and agree upon my vows for next year, and so to bed and slept mighty well.
John Evelyn's Diary 04 November 1679. 04 Nov 1679. Dined at the Lord Mayor's (50); and, in the evening, went to the funeral of my pious, dear, and ancient learned friend, Dr. Jasper Needham, who was buried at St Bride's Church. He was a true and holy Christian, and one who loved me with great affection. Dr. Dove preached with an eulogy due to his memory. I lost in this person one of my dearest remaining sincere friends.
Douglas Vault St Bride's Church, Castle Baynard, City of London
On 15 Jan 1655 Archibald Douglas 1st Earl Ormonde 12th Earl Angus 1609-1655 (46) died. He was buried at Douglas Vault St Bride's Church.
St Faith under St Paul's, Castle Baynard, City of London
On 29 Dec 1559 Elizabeth Grey Baroness Chandos 1492-1559 (67) died. She was buried at St Faith under St Paul's.
John Evelyn's Diary 07 September 1666. 07 Sep 1666. I went this morning on foot from Whitehall as far as London Bridge, through the late Fleet Street, Ludgate hill by St. Paul's, Cheapside, Exchange, Bishops-gate, Aldersgate, and out to Moorfields, thence through Cornhill, etc., with extraordinary difficulty, clambering over heaps of yet smoking rubbish, and frequently mistaking where I was; the ground under my feet so hot, that it even burnt the soles of my shoes. In the meantime, his Majesty (36) got to the Tower by water, to demolish the houses about the graff, which, being built entirely about it, had they taken fire and attacked the White Tower, where the magazine of powder lay, would undoubtedly not only have beaten down and destroyed all the bridge, but sunk and torn the vessels in the river, and rendered the demolition beyond all expression for several miles about the country.
At my return, I was infinitely concerned to find that goodly Church, St. Paul's — now a sad ruin, and that beautiful portico (for structure comparable to any in Europe, as not long before repaired by the late King) now rent in pieces, flakes of large stones split asunder, and nothing remaining entire but the inscription in the architrave showing by whom it was built, which had not one letter of it defaced! It was astonishing to see what immense stones the heat had in a manner calcined, so that all the ornaments, columns, friezes, capitals, and projectures of massy Portland stone, flew off, even to the very roof, where a sheet of lead covering a great space (no less than six acres by measure) was totally melted. The ruins of the vaulted roof falling, broke into St. Faith's, which being filled with the magazines of books belonging to the Stationers, and carried thither for safety, they were all consumed, burning for a week following. It is also observable that the lead over the altar at the east end was untouched, and among the divers. Monuments the body of one bishop remained entire. Thus lay in ashes that most venerable church, one of the most ancient pieces of early piety in the Christian world, besides near one hundred more. The lead, ironwork, bells, plate, etc., melted, the exquisitely wrought Mercers' Chapel, the sumptuous Exchange, the august fabric of Christ Church, all the rest of the Companies' Halls, splendid buildings, arches, entries, all in dust; the fountains dried up and ruined, while the very waters remained boiling; the voragos of subterranean cellars, wells, and dungeons, formerly warehouses, still burning in stench and dark clouds of smoke; so that in five or six miles traversing about I did not see one load of timber unconsumed, nor many stones but what were calcined white as snow.
The people, who now walked about the ruins, appeared like men in some dismal desert, or rather, in some great city laid waste by a cruel enemy; to which was added the stench that came from some poor creatures' bodies, beds, and other combustible goods. Sir Thomas Gresham's statue, though fallen from its niche in the Royal Exchange, remained entire, when all those of the Kings since the Conquest were broken to pieces. Also the standard in Cornhill, and Queen Elizabeth's effigies, with some arms on Ludgate, continued with but little detriment, while the vast iron chains of the city streets, hinges, bars, and gates of prisons, were many of them melted and reduced to cinders by the vehement heat. Nor was I yet able to pass through any of the narrow streets, but kept the widest; the ground and air, smoke and fiery vapor, continued so intense, that my hair was almost singed, and my feet insufferably surbated. The by-lanes and narrow streets were quite filled up with rubbish; nor could one have possibly known where he was, but by the ruins of some Church, or Hall, that had some remarkable tower, or pinnacle remaining.
I then went towards Islington and Highgate, where one might have seen 200,000 people of all ranks and degrees dispersed, and lying along by their heaps of what they could save from the fire, deploring their loss; and, though ready to perish for hunger and destitution, yet not asking one penny for relief, which to me appeared a stranger sight than any I had yet beheld. His Majesty (36) and Council indeed took all imaginable care for their relief, by proclamation for the country to come in, and refresh them with provisions.
In the midst of all this calamity and confusion, there was, I know not how, an alarm begun that the French and Dutch, with whom we were now in hostility, were not only landed, but even entering the city. There was, in truth, some days before, great suspicion of those two nations joining; and now that they had been the occasion of firing the town. This report did so terrify, that on a sudden there was such an uproar and tumult that they ran from their goods, and, taking what weapons they could come at, they could not be stopped from falling on some of those nations whom they casually met, without sense or reason. The clamor and peril grew so excessive, that it made the whole Court amazed, and they did with infinite pains and great difficulty, reduce and appease the people, sending troops of soldiers and guards, to cause them to retire into the fields again, where they were watched all this night. I left them pretty quiet, and came home sufficiently weary and broken. Their spirits thus a little calmed, and the affright abated, they now began to repair into the suburbs about the city, where such as had friends, or opportunity, got shelter for the present to which his Majesty's (36) proclamation also invited them.
Still, the plague continuing in our parish, I could not, without danger, adventure to our church.
Samuel Pepys' Diary 07 September 1666. 07 Sep 1666. Up by five o'clock; and, blessed be God! find all well, and by water to Paul's Wharfe. Walked thence, and saw, all the towne burned, and a miserable sight of Paul's church; with all the roofs fallen, and the body of the quire fallen into St. Fayth's; Paul's school also, Ludgate, and Fleet-street, my father's house, and the church, and a good part of the Temple the like.
So to Creed's lodging, near the New Exchange, and there find him laid down upon a bed; the house all unfurnished, there being fears of the fire's coming to them. There borrowed a shirt of him, and washed. To Sir W. Coventry (38), at St. James's, who lay without curtains, having removed all his goods; as the King (36) at White Hall, and every body had done, and was doing. He hopes we shall have no publique distractions upon this fire, which is what every body fears, because of the talke of the French having a hand in it. And it is a proper time for discontents; but all men's minds are full of care to protect themselves, and save their goods: the militia is in armes every where. Our fleetes, he tells me, have been in sight one of another, and most unhappily by fowle weather were parted, to our great losse, as in reason they do conclude; the Dutch being come out only to make a shew, and please their people; but in very bad condition as to stores; victuals, and men. They are at Bullen; and our fleete come to St. Ellen's. We have got nothing, but have lost one ship, but he knows not what.
Thence to the Swan, and there drank: and so home, and find all well. My Lord Bruncker (46), at Sir W. Batten's (65), and tells us the Generall is sent for up, to come to advise with the King (36) about business at this juncture, and to keep all quiet; which is great honour to him, but I am sure is but a piece of dissimulation.
So home, and did give orders for my house to be made clean; and then down to Woolwich, and there find all well: Dined, and Mrs. Markham come to see my wife. So I up again, and calling at Deptford for some things of W. Hewer's (24), he being with me, and then home and spent the evening with Sir R. Ford (52), Mr. Knightly, and Sir W. Pen (45) at Sir W. Batten's (65): This day our Merchants first met at Gresham College, which, by proclamation, is to be their Exchange. Strange to hear what is bid for houses all up and down here; a friend of Sir W. Rider's: having £150 for what he used to let for £40 per annum. Much dispute where the Custome-house shall be thereby the growth of the City again to be foreseen. My Lord Treasurer (59), they say, and others; would have it at the other end of the towne. I home late to Sir W. Pen's (45), who did give me a bed; but without curtains or hangings, all being down. So here I went the first time into a naked bed, only my drawers on; and did sleep pretty well: but still hath sleeping and waking had a fear of fire in my heart, that I took little rest. People do all the world over cry out of the simplicity of my Lord Mayor in generall; and more particularly in this business of the fire, laying it all upon' him. A proclamation1 is come out for markets to be kept at Leadenhall and Mileendgreene, and several other places about the towne; and Tower-hill, and all churches to be set open to receive poor people.
Note 1. On September 5th proclamation was made "ordering that for supply of the distressed people left destitute by the late dreadful and dismal fire.... great proportions of bread be brought daily, not only to the former markets, but to those lately ordained; that all churches, chapels, schools, and public buildings are to be open to receive the goods of those who know not how to dispose of them". On September 6th, proclamation ordered "that as the markets are burned down, markets be held in Bishopsgate Street, Tower Hill, Smithfield, and Leadenhall Street" ("Calendar of State Papers", 1666-67, pp. 100, 104).
Samuel Pepys' Diary 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!
Note 1. This word was apparently of Evelyn's own making.
Samuel Pepys' Diary 05 October 1666. 05 Oct 1666. Up, and with my father talking awhile, then to the office, and there troubled with a message from Lord Peterborough (44) about money; but I did give as kind answer as I could, though I hate him. Then to Sir G. Carteret (56) to discourse about paying of part of the great ships come in, and so home again to compare the comparison of the two Dutch wars' charges for Sir W. Coventry (38), and then by water (and saw old Mr. Michell digging like a painfull father for his son) to him, and find him at dinner.
After dinner to look over my papers, and comparing them with some notes of his and brought me, the sight of some good Navy notes of his which I shall get. Then examined and liked well my notes, and away together to White Hall, in the way discoursing the inconvenience of the King's being thus subject to an account, but it will be remedied for the time to come, he thinks, if we can get this over, and I find he will have the Comptroller's business better done, swearing he will never be for a wit to be employed on business again.
Thence I home, and back again to White Hall, and meeting Sir H. Cholmly (34) to White Hall; there walked till night that the Committee come down, and there Sir W. Coventry (38) tells me that the Subcommittee have made their report to the Grand Committee, and in pretty kind terms, and have agreed upon allowing us £4 per head, which I am sure will do the business, but he had endeavoured to have got more, but this do well, and he and I are both mighty glad it is come to this, and the heat of the present business seems almost over. But I have more worke cut out for me, to prepare a list of the extraordinaries, not to be included within the £4, against Monday.
So I away from him, and met with the Vice-Chamberlain (56), and I told him when I had this evening in coming hither met with Captain Cocke (49), and he told me of a wild motion made in the House of Lords by the Duke of Buckingham (38) for all men that had cheated the King (36) to be declared traitors and felons, and that my Lord Sandwich (41) was named. This put me into a great pain, so the Vice-Chamberlain (56), who had heard nothing of it, having been all day in the City, away with me to White Hall; and there come to me and told me that, upon Lord Ashly's (45) asking their direction whether, being a peere, he should bring in his accounts to the Commons, which they did give way to, the Duke of Buckingham (38) did move that, for the time to come, what I have written above might be declared by some fuller law than heretofore. Lord Ashly (45) answered, that it was not the fault of the present laws, but want of proof; and so said the Chancellor (57). He answered, that a better law, he thought, might be made so the House laughing, did refer it to him to bring in a Bill to that purpose, and this was all.
So I away with joyful heart home, calling on Cocke (49) and telling him the same. So I away home to the office to clear my Journall for five days, and so home to supper and to bed, my father who had staid out late and troubled me thereat being come home well and gone to bed, which pleases me also. This day, coming home, Mr. Kirton's kinsman, my bookseller, come in my way; and so I am told by him that Mr. Kirton is utterly undone, and made 2 or £3000 worse than nothing, from being worth 7 or £8,000. That the goods laid in the Churchyarde fired through the windows those in St. Fayth's church; and those coming to the Warehouses' doors fired them, and burned all the books and the pillars of the church, so as the roof falling down, broke quite down, which it did not do in the other places of the church, which is alike pillared (which I knew not before); but being not burned, they stand still. He do believe there is above; £50,000 of books burned; all the great booksellers almost undone: not only these, but their Warehouses at their Hall, and under Christchurch, and elsewhere being all burned. A great want thereof there will be of books, specially Latin books and foreign books; and, among others, the Polyglottes and new Bible, which he believes will be presently worth £40 a-piece.
Samuel Pepys' Diary 12 November 1666. 12 Nov 1666. Lay long in bed, and then up, and Mr. Carcasse brought me near 500 tickets to sign, which I did, and by discourse find him a cunning, confident, shrewd man, but one that I do doubt hath by his discourse of the ill will he hath got with my Lord Marquess of Dorchester (60) (with whom he lived), he hath had cunning practices in his time, and would not now spare to use the same to his profit.
That done I to the office; whither by and by comes Creed to me, and he and I walked in the garden a little, talking of the present ill condition of things, which is the common subject of all men's discourse and fears now-a-days, and particularly of my Lady Denham (26), whom everybody says is poisoned, and he tells me she hath said it to the Duke of York (33); but is upon the mending hand, though the town says she is dead this morning. He and I to the 'Change. There I had several little errands, and going to Sir R. Viner's (35), I did get such a splash and spots of dirt upon my new vest, that I was out of countenance to be seen in the street. This day I received 450 pieces of gold more of Mr. Stokes, but cost me 22 1/2d. change; but I am well contented with it,—I having now near £2800 in gold, and will not rest till I get full £3000, and then will venture my fortune for the saving that and the rest.
Home to dinner, though Sir R. Viner (35) would have staid us to dine with him, he being sheriffe; but, poor man, was so out of countenance that he had no wine ready to drink to us, his butler being out of the way, though we know him to be a very liberal man. And after dinner I took my wife out, intending to have gone and have seen my Lady Jemimah, at White Hall, but so great a stop there was at the New Exchange, that we could not pass in half an houre, and therefore 'light and bought a little matter at the Exchange, and then home, and then at the office awhile, and then home to my chamber, and after my wife and all the mayds abed but Jane, whom I put confidence in—she and I, and my brother, and Tom, and W. Hewer (24), did bring up all the remainder of my money, and my plate-chest, out of the cellar, and placed the money in my study, with the rest, and the plate in my dressing-room; but indeed I am in great pain to think how to dispose of my money, it being wholly unsafe to keep it all in coin in one place. 'But now I have it all at my hand, I shall remember it better to think of disposing of it. This done, by one in the morning to bed. This afternoon going towards Westminster, Creed and I did stop, the Duke of York (33) being just going away from seeing of it, at Paul's, and in the Convocation House Yard did there see the body of Robert Braybrooke, Bishop of London, that died 1404: He fell down in his tomb out of the great church into St. Fayth's this late fire, and is here seen his skeleton with the flesh on; but all tough and dry like a spongy dry leather, or touchwood all upon his bones. His head turned aside. A great man in his time, and Lord Chancellor, and his skeletons now exposed to be handled and derided by some, though admired for its duration by others. Many flocking to see it.
St Gregory by St Paul's, Castle Baynard, City of London
On 29 Apr 1609 Richard Barrow and Temperance Flowerdew 1590-1628 (19) were married at St Gregory by St Paul's.
St Mary Abchurch, Castle Baynard, City of London
On 11 Mar 1803 George Warde 1725-1803 (77) died. He was buried at St Mary Abchurch.
St Paul's Cathedral Churchyard, Castle Baynard, City of London
Samson Tavern, St Paul's Cathedral Churchyard, Castle Baynard, City of London
Samuel Pepys' Diary 21 June 1661. 21 Jun 1661. This morning going to my father's I met him, and so he and I went and drank our morning draft at the Samson in Paul's Churchyard, and eat some gammon of bacon, &c., and then parted, having bought some green Say1 for curtains in my parler. Home, and so to the Exchequer, where I met with my uncle Wight, and home with him to dinner, where among others (my aunt being out of town), Mr. Norbury and I did discourse of his wife's house and land at Brampton, which I find too much for me to buy. Home, and in the afternoon to the office, and much pleased at night to see my house begin to be clean after all the dirt.
Note 1. A woollen cloth. "Saye clothe serge".—Palsgrave.
St Paul's Cross, Castle Baynard, City of London
Wriothesley's Chronicle Volume 1 Henry VIII 1536. This yeare also, the first Soundaie after Candlemas, being the sixt daie of Februarie, the Archbishopp of Canterberie, called Thomas Cranmer (46), preached at Paules Crosse, my Lord Chauncelor (48) being then present at his sermon, and their he approved, by scripture and by the decrees of the Popes lawes, that the Bishop of Rome, otherwise called Pope, was Antichrist, and also brought divers expositions of holie sainctes and doctors for the same; and how craftelie, and by what meanes, and how long, he had taken upon him the power of God and the aucthoritie aboTe all princes christened, and how his aucthoritie and lawes was contrarie to scripture and the lawe of God, as he then honorably declared and approved to the cleere understanding of all the people.
Wriothesley's Chronicle Volume 1 Henry VIII 1536. The Soundaie of Quinquegesima, being the 27th daie of Februarie and Leepe yeare, a.v. 1535, preached at Paules Crosse the Bushoppe of Durhame, named Dr. Dunstall (62), sometime Bishopp of London, and afore that, being Master of the Rolls; and their were present at his sermon the Ardibishopp of Canterberie (46) with eight other bishopps, sitting at the crosse before the preacher; and the Lorde Chauncellor of Englande (48), the Duke of Norfolke (63), the Duke of Suffolke, with six Erles and divers other lordes, stoode behinde the preacher within the pulpitt, and also fower monkes of the Charterhouse of London were brought to the said sermon, which denied the King (44) to be supreame heade of the Church of Englande. And their the said preacher declared the profession of the Bishopp of Rome when he is elected Pope, according to the confirmation of eight universall general counsells, which were congregate for the faith of all Christendome; and everie Pope taketh an othe on the articles, promising to observe, keepe, and hould all that the said counsells confirmed, and to dampne all that they dampned; and how he, contrarie to his oth, hath usurped his power and aucthoritie over all Christendome; and also how uncharitably he had handled our Prince, King Henrie the Eight (44), in marying [him to] his brother's wife, contrarie to Godes lawes and also against his owne promise and decrees, which he opened by scriptures and by the cannons of the Appostles; and also how everie Kinge hath the highe power under God, and ought to be the supreame head over all spirituall prelates, which was a goodlie and gracious hearing to all the audience being their present at the same sermon. And in his prayers he said, after this manner, ye shall pray for the universall church of all Christendome, and especiall for the prosperous estate of our Soveraigne' and Emperour King Henrie the Eight, being the onelie supreame head of this realme of Englande; and he declared also in his said sermon how that the Cardinalls of Rome bee but curattes and decons of the cittie and province of Bome, and how that everie curate of any parrish have as much power as they have, according to scripture, save onelie that the Pope of Bome hath made them so high aucthorities onelie for to ezhalt his name and power in Christen realmes for covetousnes, as by his owne decrees he evidentlie their approved.
St Paul's School, Castle Baynard, City of London
Around 1518 William Paget 1st Baron Paget Beaudasert 1506-1563 (12) educated at St Paul's School.
Samuel Pepys' Diary 07 February 1660. 07 Feb 1660. Tuesday. In the morning I went early to give Mr. Hawly notice of my being forced to go into London, but he having also business we left our office business to Mr. Spicer and he and I walked as far as the Temple, where I halted a little and then went to Paul's School, but it being too soon, went and drank my morning draft with my cozen Tom Pepys the turner, and saw his house and shop, thence to school, where he that made the speech for the seventh form in praise of the founder, did show a book which Mr. Crumlum (42) had lately got, which is believed to be of the Founder's own writing. After all the speeches, in which my brother John came off as well as any of the rest, I went straight home and dined, then to the Hall, where in the Palace I saw Monk's (51) soldiers abuse Billing (37) and all the Quakers, that were at a meeting-place there, and indeed the soldiers did use them very roughly and were to blame.1.
So after drinking with Mr. Spicer, who had received £600 for me this morning, I went to Capt. Stone and with him by coach to the Temple Gardens (all the way talking of the disease of the stone), where we met Mr. Squib, but would do nothing till to-morrow morning. Thence back on foot home, where I found a letter from my Lord in character [Note. Private cryptic code. Ed.], which I construed, and after my wife had shewn me some ribbon and shoes that she had taken out of a box of Mr. Montagu's which formerly Mr. Kipps had left here when his master was at sea, I went to Mr. Crew (62) and advised with him about it, it being concerning my Lord's (34) coming up to Town, which he desires upon my advice the last week in my letter. Thence calling upon Mrs. Ann I went home, and wrote in character to my Lord in answer to his letter. This day Mr. Crew's (62) told me that my Lord St. John (61) is for a free Parliament, and that he is very great with Monk (51), who hath now the absolute command and power to do any thing that he hath a mind to do. Mr. Moore told me of a picture hung up at the Exchange of a great pair of buttocks shooting of a turd into Lawson's mouth, and over it was wrote "The thanks of the house". Boys do now cry "Kiss my Parliament, instead of Kiss my [rump]", so great and general a contempt is the Rump come to among all the good and bad.
Note 1. "Fox (35), or some other 'weighty' friend, on hearing of this, complained to Monk (51), who issued the following order, dated March 9th: 'I do require all officers and soldiers to forbear to disturb peaceable meetings of the Quakers, they doing nothing prejudicial to the Parliament or the Commonwealth of England. George Monk (51).' This order, we are told, had an excellent effect on the soldiers".—A. C. Bickley's 'George Fox and the Early Quakers, London, 1884, p. 179. The Quakers were at this time just coming into notice. The first preaching of George Fox (35), the founder, was in 1648, and in 1655 the preachers of the sect numbered seventy-three. Fox computed that there were seldom less than a thousand quakers in prison. The statute 13 and 14 Car. II cap. i. (1662) was "An act for preventing the mischiefs and dangers that may arise by certain persons called quakers and others, refusing to take lawful oaths". Billing (37) is mentioned again on July 22nd, 1667, when he addressed Pepys in Westminster Hall.
Around 1685 Spencer Compton 1st Earl Wilmington 1673-1743 (12) educated at St Paul's School.
Wardrobe, Castle Baynard, City of London
Warwick Lane, Castle Baynard, City of London
Samuel Pepys' Diary 20 January 1664. 20 Jan 1664. Up and by coach to my Lord Sandwich's (38), and after long staying till his coming down (he not sending for me up, but it may be he did not know I was there), he came down, and I walked with him to the Tennis Court, and there left him, seeing the King (33) play.
At his lodgings this morning there came to him Mr. W. Montague's (46) fine lady, which occasioned my Lord's calling me to her about some business for a friend of hers preferred to be a midshipman at sea. My Lord recommended the whole matter to me. She is a fine confident lady, I think, but not so pretty as I once thought her. My Lord did also seal a lease for the house he is now taking in Lincoln's Inn Fields, which stands him in 250 per annum rent.
Thence by water to my brother's, whom I find not well in bed, sicke, they think, of a consumption, and I fear he is not well, but do not complain, nor desire to take anything. From him I visited Mr. Honiwood, who is lame, and to thank him for his visit to me the other day, but we were both abroad.
So to Mr. Commander's in Warwick Lane, to speak to him about drawing up my will, which he will meet me about in a day or two.
So to the 'Change and walked home, thence with Sir Richard Ford (50), who told me that Turner (55) is to be hanged to-morrow, and with what impudence he hath carried out his trial; but that last night, when he brought him newes of his death, he began to be sober and shed some tears, and he hopes will die a penitent; he having already confessed all the thing, but says it was partly done for a joke, and partly to get an occasion of obliging the old man by his care in getting him his things again, he having some hopes of being the better by him in his estate at his death.
Home to dinner, and after dinner my wife and I by water, which we have not done together many a day, that is not since last summer, but the weather is now very warm, and left her at Axe Yard, and I to White Hall, and meeting Mr. Pierce walked with him an hour in the Matted Gallery; among other things he tells me that my Baroness Castlemaine (23) is not at all set by by the King (33), but that he do doat upon Mrs. Stewart (16) only; and that to the leaving of all business in the world, and to the open slighting of the Queene (54); that he values not who sees him or stands by him while he dallies with her openly; and then privately in her chamber below, where the very sentrys observe his going in and out; and that so commonly, that the Duke (30) or any of the nobles, when they would ask where the King (33) is, they will ordinarily say, "Is the King (33) above, or below?" meaning with Mrs. Stewart (16): that the King (33) do not openly disown my Baroness Castlemaine (23), but that she comes to Court; but that my Lord FitzHarding (34) and the Hambletons1, and sometimes my Lord Sandwich (38), they say, have their snaps at her. But he says my Lord Sandwich (38) will lead her from her lodgings in the darkest and obscurest manner, and leave her at the entrance into the Queene's (54) lodgings, that he might be the least observed; that the Duke of Monmouth (14) the King (33) do still doat on beyond measure, insomuch that the King (33) only, the Duke of York (30), and Prince Rupert (44), and the Duke of Monmouth (14), do now wear deep mourning, that is, long cloaks, for the Duchesse of Savoy; so that he mourns as a Prince of the Blood, while the Duke of York (30) do no more, and all the nobles of the land not so much; which gives great offence, and he says the Duke of York (30) do consider. But that the Duke of York (30) do give himself up to business, and is like to prove a noble Prince; and so indeed I do from my heart think he will. He says that it is believed, as well as hoped, that care is taken to lay up a hidden treasure of money by the King (33) against a bad day, pray God it be so! but I should be more glad that the King (33) himself would look after business, which it seems he do not in the least.
By and by came by Mr. Coventry (36), and so we broke off; and he and I took a turn or two and so parted, and then my Lord Sandwich (38) came upon me, to speak with whom my business of coming again to-night to this ende of the town chiefly was, in order to the seeing in what manner he received me, in order to my inviting him to dinner to my house, but as well in the morning as now, though I did wait upon him home and there offered occasion of talk with him, yet he treated me, though with respect, yet as a stranger, without any of the intimacy or friendship which he used to do, and which I fear he will never, through his consciousness of his faults, ever do again. Which I must confess do trouble me above anything in the world almost, though I neither do need at present nor fear to need to be so troubled, nay, and more, though I do not think that he would deny me any friendship now if I did need it, but only that he has not the face to be free with me, but do look upon me as a remembrancer of his former vanity, and an espy upon his present practices, for I perceive that Pickering to-day is great with him again, and that he has done a great courtesy for Mr. Pierce, the chirurgeon, to a good value, though both these and none but these did I mention by name to my Lord in the business which has caused all this difference between my Lord and me. However, I am resolved to forbear my laying out my money upon a dinner till I see him in a better posture, and by grave and humble, though high deportment, to make him think I do not want him, and that will make him the readier to admit me to his friendship again, I believe the soonest of anything but downright impudence, and thrusting myself, as others do, upon him, which yet I cannot do, not [nor] will not endeavour.
So home, calling with my wife to see my brother again, who was up, and walks up and down the house pretty well, but I do think he is in a consumption.
Home, troubled in mind for these passages with my Lord, but am resolved to better my case in my business to make my stand upon my owne legs the better and to lay up as well as to get money, and among other ways I will have a good fleece out of Creed's coat ere it be long, or I will have a fall.
So to my office and did some business, and then home to supper and to bed, after I had by candlelight shaved myself and cut off all my beard clear, which will make my worke a great deal the less in shaving.
Note 1. The three brothers, George Hamilton, James Hamilton (34), and the Count Antoine Hamilton (18), author of the "Memoires de Grammont"..
Samuel Pepys' Diary 25 January 1664. 25 Jan 1664.
Up and by coach to Whitehall to my Lord's lodgings, and seeing that knowing that I was in the house, my Lord did not nevertheless send for me up, I did go to the Duke's lodgings, and there staid while he was making ready, in which time my Lord Sandwich (38) came, and so all into his closet and did our common business, and so broke up, and I homeward by coach with Sir W. Batten (63), and staid at Warwick Lane and there called upon Mr. Commander and did give him my last will and testament to write over in form, and so to the 'Change, where I did several businesses.
So home to dinner, and after I had dined Luellin came and we set him something to eat, and I left him there with my wife, and to the office upon a particular meeting of the East India Company, where I think I did the King (33) good service against the Company in the business of their sending our ships home empty from the Indies contrary to their contract, and yet, God forgive me! I found that I could be willing to receive a bribe if it were offered me to conceal my arguments that I found against them, in consideration that none of my fellow officers, whose duty it is more than mine, had ever studied the case, or at this hour do understand it, and myself alone must do it.
That being done Mr. Povy (50) and Bland came to speak with me about their business of the reference, wherein I shall have some more trouble, but cannot help it, besides I hope to make some good use of Mr. Povy (50) to my advantage.
So home after business done at my office, to supper, and then to the globes with my wife, and so to bed. Troubled a little in mind that my Lord Sandwich (38) should continue this strangeness to me that methinks he shows me now a days more than while the thing was fresh.