Charing Cross is in Westminster.
Diary of Henry Machyn February 1554. 07 Feb 1544. [The vij day of February, in the forenoon, Wyatt (23), with his army and ordnance, were at Hyde Park Corner. There the Queen's host met with, with a great number of men at arms on horseback, beside foot. By one of the clock the Quen['s men and Wyatt's had a skirmish;] ther wher mony slayn; butt master Wyatt toke the way don by Sant James with a grett company and so to Charyngcrosse, and so forth, crying 'God save quen Mare!' tyll he cam to Ludgatt and [knocked there; thinking to have entered; but the gate being kept fast against him, he retired,] and bake agayne unto Tempull Bare, and folouyd hym mony man, and ther he yelded unto master Norray the harold of armes in ys cote of armes, and ther he lycted be-hynd a gentleman unto the cowrte; but by the way mony of them wher slayne by the way or thay cam to Charyng-crosse, what with mores pykes and bylls; and mony of Wyatt('s) men, as they whent, wher the quens fryndes and Englys-men under a fallss pretens that he whent a-bowtt to .... way as thay whent, and cam for to make men beleyff that the quen('s) grace had gyffvyn them pardon; and dyvers of ys men toke the quen('s) men by the hand as thay whent toward Ludgatt. Thys was done on As-Wedynsday the furst yere of quen Mare of England; and the sam nyght to the Towre ser Thomas Wyatt (23), master Cobham (47), and master Vane, and ij Knewetes and odur captaynes.
Diary of Henry Machyn February 1554. 12 Feb 1544. The xij day of February was mad at evere gate in Lundun a newe payre of galaus and set up, ij payre in Chepesyde, ij payr in Fletstrett, one in Smythfyld, one payre in Holborne, on at Ledyn-hall, one at sant Magnus London [-bridge], on at Peper allay gatt, one at sant Gorgeus, on in Barunsay [Bermondsay] strett, on on Towr hylle, one payre at Charyngcrosse, on payre besyd Hyd parke corner.
Wriothesley's Chronicle Mary I 1st Year 14 Feb 1554. 14 Feb 1544. The 14 of February divers of the rebells were putt to death, that is to saye, Bothe, one of the Queenes footemen, one Vicars, a Yeoman of the Garde, great John Norton, and one Kinge, were hanged at Charinge Crosse. And three of the rebells, one called Pollarde, were hanged at the parke pale by Hide Parke; three allso in Fleet street, one at Ludgate, one at Bishopsgate, one at Newgate, one at Aldgate, three at the Crosse in Cheape, three at Soper Lane ende in Chepe, and three in Smithfield, which persons hanged still all that daye and night tyll the next morninge, and then cutt downe.a And the bodies of them that were hanged at the gates were quartered at Newgate, and the heades and bodies hanged over the gates where they suffred.
a. The Grey Friares Chronicle (p. 88) adds "the whych ware of London that fled from the Dnke of Norfoke."
Diary of Henry Machyn February 1554. 14 Feb 1544. The xiiij day of Feybruary wher hangyd at evere gatt and plasse : in Chepe-syd vj; Algatt j, quartered; at Leydynhall iij; at Bysshope-gatt on, and quartered; Morgatt one; Crepullgatt one; Aldersgatt on, quartered; Nuwgat on, quartered; Ludgatt on; Belyngat iij hangyd; Sant Magnus iij hangyd; Towre hyll ij. hangyd; Holborne iij hangyd; Flettstret iij hangyd; at Peper alley gat iij; Barunsaystret iij; Sant Gorgus iij; Charyng crosse iiij, on Boyth the fottman, and Vekars of the gard, and ij moo; at Hydparke corner iij, on Polard a waterbeyrar; theys iij hanges in chynes; and but vij quartered, and ther bodys and heds set a-pon the gattes of London.
Wriothesley's Chronicle Mary I 2nd Year 26 Oct 1554. 26 Oct 1554. Frydaye the 26 of October there was a Spaniarde hanged at Charinge Crosse, which had shamefullie slayne an Englishe man, servant to Sir George Gifforde (59). There would have bene given vc  crownes of the straungers to have saved his life.
Diary of Henry Machyn November 1554. 04 Nov 1554. The iiij day of November be-gane a grett fray at Charyng crosse at viij of the cloke at nyght be-twyn the Spaneardes and Englysmen, the wyche thrugh wysdom ther wher but a fuwe hort, and after the next day thay wher serten taken that be-gane yt; on was a blake-mor, and was brought a-for the hed offesers by the knyght-marshall('s) servandes.
Diary of Henry Machyn April 1555. 26 Apr 1555. The xxvj day of Aprell was cared from the Marselsee in a care thrugh London unto Charyng-crosse to the galows, and ther hangyd, iij men for robyng of serten Spaneardes of tresur of gold owt of the abbay of Vestmynster.
Diary of Henry Machyn August 1557. 03 Aug 1557. The iij day of August my lade Anne of Cleyff (41), sumtyme wyff unto kyng Henry the viijth cam from Chelsey to be [buried] unto Westmynster, with all the chylderyn of Westmynster and [many] prest and clarkes, and then the gray ames of Powlles and iij crosses, and the monkes of Westmynster, and my lord bysshope of Lo[ndon] (57) and my lord abbott of Westmynster (42) rod together next the monkes, and then the ij sekturs [executors] ser Edmond Peckham (62) and ser (Robert) Freston (57), cofferer to the quen of England; and then my lord admerall (47), my (lord) Darce of Essex (60), and mony knyghts and gentyllmen; and a-for her servandes, and after her baner of armes; and then her gentyllmen and here hed offesers; and then here charett with viij baners of armes of dyvers armes, and iiij baners of emages of whytt taffata, wroght with fyne gold and her armes; and so by sant James, and so to Charyingcrosse, with a C. torchys bornyng, her servandes beyrying them, and the xij bed-men of Westmynster had new blake gownes; and they had xij torchys bornyng, and iiij whyt branchys with armes; and then ladies and gentyll-women all in blake, and horsses; and a viij haroldes of armes in blake, and ther horses; and armes sad a-bowt the herse behynd and be-for; and iiij haroldes barying the iiij whyt baners; and at (the) chyrche dore all dyd a-lyght and ther dyd reseyvyd the good lade my lord of London (57) and my lord abbott (42) in ther myteres and copes, sensyng her, and ther men dyd bere her with a canepe of blake welvett, with iiij blake stayffes, and so browth in-to the herse and ther tared durge, and so ther all nyght with lyght bornyng.
Diary of Henry Machyn November 1562. 08 Nov 1562. The viij day of November the Quen('s) (29) grace removyd from Hamtun cowrt toward London, and be-twyn iij and [iiij o'clock] cam by Charyng-crosse, and so rod unto Some[rset plac]e with mony nobull men and women, and with har[olds of a]rmes in ther cotte armurs; and my lord Thomas [Howard bare] the sword a-for the quen to Somersett plase, and the [Queen will abide] ther tyll Criustynmas, and then to Whyt-halle.
Diary of Henry Machyn February 1563. 22 Feb 1563. The xxij day of Feybruary, was Shroyff-monday, at Charyngcrosse ther was a man cared of iiij men, and a-for hym a bagpype playng, a shame and a drum playhyng, and a xx lynkes bornyng a-bowtt hym, because ys next neybor('s) wyff ded bett here hosband; ther-for yt (is) ordered that ys next naybor shall ryd a-bowtt the plase.... gayff xxiiij good gownes .... gayff a lx gowne and cottes of blake and .... worshephull men and women to bryng her; [and the] cheyrche was hangyd with blake and armes, ... skochyons of armes; and master Beycun mad the sermon; [and so] home to ys plase to dener.
On 28 May 1626 Thomas Howard 1st Earl Suffolk 1561-1626 (64) died at Charing Cross. He was buried at Walden Abbey. His son Theophilus Howard 2nd Earl Suffolk 1582-1640 (43) succeeded 2nd Earl Suffolk 4C 1603. Elizabeth Home Countess Suffolk 1599-1633 (27) by marriage Countess Suffolk.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 03 February 1660. 03 Feb 1660. Friday. Drank my morning draft at Harper's, and was told there that the soldiers were all quiet upon promise of pay. Thence to St James' Park, and walked there to my place for my flageolet and then played a little, it being a most pleasant morning and sunshine. Back to Whitehall, where in the guard-chamber I saw about thirty or forty 'prentices of the City, who were taken at twelve o'clock last night and brought prisoners hither. Thence to my office, where I paid a little more money to some of the soldiers under Lieut.-Col. Miller (who held out the Tower against the Parliament after it was taken away from Fitch by the Committee of Safety, and yet he continued in his office). About noon Mrs. Turner (37) came to speak with me, and Joyce, and I took them and shewed them the manner of the Houses sitting, the doorkeeper very civilly opening the door for us. Thence with my cozen Roger Pepys (42), it being term time, we took him out of the Hall to Priors, the Rhenish wine-house, and there had a pint or two of wine and a dish of anchovies, and bespoke three or four dozen bottles of wine for him against his wedding. After this done he went away, and left me order to call and pay for all that Mrs. Turner (37) would have. So we called for nothing more there, but went and bespoke a shoulder of mutton at Wilkinson's to be roasted as well as it could be done, and sent a bottle of wine home to my house. In the meantime she and I and Joyce went walking all over White Hall, whither General Monk (51) was newly come, and we saw all his forces march by in very good plight and stout officers. Thence to my house where we dined, but with a great deal of patience, for the Mutton came in raw, and so we were fain to stay the stewing of it. In the meantime we sat studying a Posy for a ring for her which she is to have at Roger Pepys's (42) his wedding. After dinner I left them and went to hear news, but only found that the Parliament House was most of them with Monk (51) at White Hall, and that in his passing through the town he had many calls to him for a free Parliament, but little other welcome. I saw in the Palace Yard how unwilling some of the old soldiers were yet to go out of town without their money, and swore if they had it not in three days, as they were promised, they would do them more mischief in the country than if they had staid here; and that is very likely, the country being all discontented. The town and guards are already full of Monk's (51) soldiers. I returned, and it growing dark I and they went to take a turn in the park, where Theoph (8) (who was sent for to us to dinner) outran my wife and another poor woman, that laid a pot of ale with me that she would outrun her. After that I set them as far as Charing Cross, and there left them and my wife, and I went to see Mrs. Ann, who began very high about a flock bed I sent her, but I took her down. Here I played at cards till 9 o'clock. So home and to bed.
On 15 Oct 1660 John Carew Regicide 1622-1660 (38) was hanged, drawn and quartered at Charing Cross.
On 16 Oct 1660 Hugh Peter Regicide 1598-1660 (62) and John Cook Regicide 1608-1660 (52) were hanged, drawn and quartered at Charing Cross.
On 17 Oct 1660 Gregory Clement Regicide 1594-1660 (66), Adrian Scrope Regicide 1601-1660 (59), John Jones Regicide 1597-1660 (63) and Thomas Scot Regicide -1660 were hanged, drawn and quartered at Charing Cross.
John Evelyn's Diary 17 October 1660. 17 Oct 1660. Scot, Scroop (59), Cook (52), and Jones (63), suffered for reward of their iniquities at Charing Cross, in sight of the place where they put to death their natural prince, and in the presence of the King (30) his son, whom they also sought to kill. I saw not their execution, but met their quarters, mangled, and cut, and reeking, as they were brought from the gallows in baskets on the hurdle. Oh, the miraculous providence of God!
Diary of Samuel Pepys 28 May 1665. 28 May 1665. Lord's Day. By water to the Duke of Albemarle (56), where I hear that Nixon is condemned to be shot to death, for his cowardice, by a Council of War.
Went to chapel and heard a little musique, and there met with Creed, and with him a little while walking, and to Wilkinson's for me to drink, being troubled with winde, and at noon to Sir Philip Warwicke's (55) to dinner, where abundance of company come in unexpectedly; and here I saw one pretty piece of household stuff, as the company increaseth, to put a larger leaf upon an oval table.
After dinner much good discourse with Sir Philip (55), who I find, I think, a most pious, good man, and a Professor of a philosophical manner of life and principles like Epictetus, whom he cites in many things.
Thence to my Lady Sandwich's (40), where, to my shame, I had not been a great while before. Here, upon my telling her a story of my Lord Rochester's (18) running away on Friday night last with Mrs. Mallett (14), the great beauty and fortune of the North, who had supped at White Hall with Mrs. Stewart (17), and was going home to her lodgings with her grandfather, my Lord Haly (57), by coach; and was at Charing Cross seized on by both horse and foot men, and forcibly taken from him, and put into a coach with six horses, and two women provided to receive her, and carried away. Upon immediate pursuit, my Lord of Rochester (18) (for whom the King (34) had spoke to the lady often, but with no successe) was taken at Uxbridge; but the lady (14) is not yet heard of, and the King (34) mighty angry, and the Lord (18) sent to the Tower. Hereupon my Lady did confess to me, as a great secret, her being concerned in this story. For if this match breaks between my Lord Rochester (18) and her (14), then, by the consent of all her friends, my Lord Hinchingbrooke (17) stands fair, and is invited for her. She is worth, and will be at her mother's (31) death (who keeps but a little from her), £2500 per annum. Pray God give a good success to it! But my poor Lady, who is afeard of the sickness, and resolved to be gone into the country, is forced to stay in towne a day or two, or three about it, to see the event of it.
Thence home and to see my Lady Pen (41), where my wife and I were shown a fine rarity: of fishes kept in a glass of water, that will live so for ever; and finely marked they are, being foreign. [Gold-fish introduced from China.] So to supper at home and to bed, after many people being with me about business, among others the two Bellamys about their old debt due to them from the King (34) for their victualling business, out of which I hope to get some money.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 12 December 1665. 12 Dec 1665. Up, and to the office, where my Lord Bruncker (45) met, and among other things did finish a contract with Cocke (48) for hemp, by which I hope to get my money due from him paid presently.
At noon home to dinner, only eating a bit, and with much kindness taking leave of Mr. Hill (35) who goes away to-day, and so I by water saving the tide through Bridge and to Sir G. Downing (40) by appointment at Charing Crosse, who did at first mightily please me with informing me thoroughly the virtue and force of this Act, and indeed it is ten times better than ever I thought could have been said of it, but when he come to impose upon me that without more ado I must get by my credit people to serve in goods and lend money upon it and none could do it better than I, and the King (35) should give me thanks particularly in it, and I could not get him to excuse me, but I must come to him though to no purpose on Saturday, and that he is sure I will bring him some bargains or other made upon this Act, it vexed me more than all the pleasure I took before, for I find he will be troublesome to me in it, if I will let him have as much of my time as he would have. So late I took leave and in the cold (the weather setting in cold) home to the office and, after my letters being wrote, home to supper and to bed, my wife being also gone to London.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 01 April 1666. 01 Apr 1666. Lord's Day. Up and abroad, and by coach to Charing Cross, to wait on Sir Philip Howard (35); whom I found in bed: and he do receive me very civilly. My request was about suffering my wife's brother to go to sea, and to save his pay in the Duke's guards; which after a little difficulty he did with great respect agree to. I find him a very fine-spoken gentleman, and one of great parts, and very courteous.
Much pleased with this visit I to White Hall, where I met Sir G. Downing (41), and to discourse with him an houre about the Exchequer payments upon the late Act, and informed myself of him thoroughly in my safety in lending £2000 to Sir W. Warren, upon an order of his upon the Exchequer for £2602 and I do purpose to do it.
Thence meeting Dr. Allen, the physician, he and I and another walked in the Parke, a most pleasant warm day, and to the Queene's chappell; where I do not so dislike the musique. Here I saw on a post an invitation to all good Catholiques to pray for the soul of such a one departed this life. The Queene (56), I hear, do not yet hear of the death of her mother (52), she being in a course of physique, that they dare not tell it her.
After dinner my uncle and I abroad by coach to White Hall, up and down the house, and I did some business and thence with him and a gentleman he met with to my Chancellor's (57) new house, and there viewed it again and again and up to the top and I like it as well as ever and think it a most noble house.
So all up and down my Lord St. Albans (61) his new building and market-house, and the taverne under the market-house, looking to and again into every place of building, and so away and took coach and home, where to my accounts, and was at them till I could not hold open my eyes, and so to bed.
I this afternoon made a visit to my Baroness Carteret (64), whom I understood newly come to towne; and she took it mighty kindly, but I see her face and heart are dejected from the condition her husband's matters stand in. But I hope they will do all well enough. And I do comfort her as much as I can, for she is a noble lady.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 04 May 1666. 04 May 1666. Up and by water to Westminster to Charing Cross (Mr. Gregory for company with me) to Sir Ph. Warwicke's (56), who was not within. So I took Gregory to White Hall, and there spoke with Joseph Williamson to have leave in the next Gazette to have a general pay for the Chest at Chatham declared upon such a day in June. Here I left Gregory, and I by coach back again to Sir Philip Warwicke's (56), and in the Park met him walking, so discoursed about the business of striking a quarter's tallys for Tangier, due this day, which he hath promised to get my Lord Treasurer's (59) warrant for, and so away hence, and to Mr. Hales (66), to see what he had done to Mrs. Pierce's picture, and whatever he pretends, I do not think it will ever be so good a picture as my wife's.
Thence home to the office a little and then to dinner, and had a great fray with my wife again about Browne's coming to teach her to paynt, and sitting with me at table, which I will not yield to. I do thoroughly believe she means no hurte in it; but very angry we were, and I resolved all into my having my will done, without disputing, be the reason what it will; and so I will have it.
After dinner abroad again and to the New Exchange about play books, and to White Hall, thinking to have met Sir G. Carteret (56), but failed.
So to the Swan at Westminster, and there spent a quarter of an hour with Jane, and thence away home, and my wife coming home by and by (having been at her mother's to pray her to look out for a mayde for her) by coach into the fields to Bow, and so home back in the evening, late home, and after supper to bed, being much out of order for lack of somebody in the room of Su. This evening, being weary of my late idle courses, and the little good I shall do the King (35) or myself in the office, I bound myself to very strict rules till Whitsunday next.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 23 May 1666. 23 May 1666. Up by 5 o'clock and to my chamber settling several matters in order. So out toward White Hall, calling in my way on my Lord Bellassis (51), where I come to his bedside, and did give me a full and long account of his matters, how he left them at Tangier. Declares himself fully satisfied with my care: seems cunningly to argue for encreasing the number of men there. Told me the whole story of his gains by the Turky prizes, which he owns he hath got about £5000 by. Promised me the same profits Povy (52) was to have had; and in fine, I find him a pretty subtle man; and so I left him, and to White Hall before the Duke and did our usual business, and eased my mind of two or three things of weight that lay upon me about Lanyon's salary, which I have got to be £150 per annum.
Thence to Westminster to look after getting some little for some great tallys, but shall find trouble in it.
Thence homeward and met with Sir Philip Warwicke (56), and spoke about this, in which he is scrupulous. After that to talk of the wants of the Navy. He lays all the fault now upon the new Act, and owns his owne folly in thinking once so well of it as to give way to others' endeavours about it, and is grieved at heart to see what passe things are like to come to.
Thence to the Excise Office to the Commissioners to get a meeting between them and myself and others about our concernments in the Excise for Tangier, and so to the 'Change awhile, and thence home with Creed, and find my wife at dinner with Mr. Cooke, who is going down to Hinchinbrooke.
After dinner Creed and I and wife and Mercer out by coach, leaving them at the New Exchange, while I to White Hall, and there staid at Sir G. Carteret's (56) chamber till the Council rose, and then he and I, by agreement this morning, went forth in his coach by Tiburne, to the Parke; discoursing of the state of the Navy as to money, and the state of the Kingdom too, how ill able to raise more: and of our office as to the condition of the officers; he giving me caution as to myself, that there are those that are my enemies as well as his, and by name my Lord Bruncker (46), who hath said some odd speeches against me. So that he advises me to stand on my guard; which I shall do, and unless my too-much addiction to pleasure undo me, will be acute enough for any of them. We rode to and again in the Parke a good while, and at last home and set me down at Charing Crosse, and thence I to Mrs. Pierce's to take up my wife and Mercer, where I find her new picture by Hales do not please her, nor me indeed, it making no show, nor is very like, nor no good painting.
Home to supper and to bed, having my right eye sore and full of humour of late, I think, by my late change of my brewer, and having of 8s. beer.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 09 May 1667. 09 May 1667. Up, and to the office, and at noon home to dinner, and then with my wife and Barker by coach, and left them at Charing Cross, and I to St. James's, and there found Sir W. Coventry (39) alone in his chamber, and sat and talked with him more than I have done a great while of several things of the Navy, how our debts and wants do unfit us for doing any thing. He tells me he hears stories of Commissioner Pett (56), of selling timber to the Navy under other names, which I told him I believe is true, and did give him an instance. He told me also how his clerk Floyd he hath put away for his common idlenesse and ill company, and particularly that yesterday he was found not able to come and attend him, by being run into the arme in a squabble, though he pretends it was done in the streets by strangers, at nine at night, by the Maypole in the Strand.
Sir W. Coventry (39) did write to me this morning to recommend him another, which I could find in my heart to do W. Hewer (25) for his good; but do believe he will not part with me, nor have I any mind to let him go. I would my brother were fit for it, I would adventure him there. He insists upon an unmarried man, that can write well, and hath French enough to transcribe it only from a copy, and may write shorthand, if it may be.
Thence with him to my Chancellor (58) at Clarendon House, to a Committee for Tangier, where several things spoke of and proceeded on, and particularly sending Commissioners thither before the new Governor (59) goes, which I think will signify as much good as any thing else that hath been done about the place, which is none at all. I did again tell them the badness of their credit by the time their tallies took before they become payable, and their spending more than their fund. They seem well satisfied with what I said, and I am glad that I may be remembered that I do tell them the case plain; but it troubled me that I see them hot upon it, that the Governor (59) shall not be paymaster, which will force me either to the providing one there to do it (which I will never undertake), or leave the employment, which I had rather do.
Mightily pleased with the noblenesse of this house, and the brave furniture and pictures, which indeed is very noble, and, being broke up, I with Sir G. Carteret (57) in his coach into Hide Park, to discourse of things, and spent an hour in this manner with great pleasure, telling me all his concernments, and how he is gone through with the purchase for my Lady Jemimah and her husband (26); how the Treasury is like to come into the hands of a Committee; but that not that, nor anything else, will do our business, unless the King (36) himself will mind his business, and how his servants do execute their parts; he do fear an utter ruin in the state, and that in a little time, if the King (36) do not mind his business soon; that the King (36) is very kind to him, and to my Lord Sandwich (41), and that he doubts not but at his coming home, which he expects about Michaelmas, he will be very well received. But it is pretty strange how he began again the business of the intention of a marriage of my Lord Hinchingbrooke (19) to a daughter of my Lord Burlington's (54) to my Chancellor (58), which he now tells me as a great secret, when he told it me the last Sunday but one; but it may be the poor man hath forgot, and I do believe he do make it a secret, he telling me that he has not told it to any but myself, end this day to his daughter my Lady Jemimah, who looks to lie down about two months hence.
After all this discourse we turned back and to White Hall, where we parted, and I took up my wife at Unthanke's, and so home, and in our street, at the Three Tuns' Tavern door, I find a great hubbub; and what was it but two brothers [Note. Basil Fielding -1667 and Christopher Fielding] have fallen out, and one killed the other. And who should they be but the two Fieldings; one whereof, Bazill, was page to my Lady Sandwich (42); and he hath killed the other, himself being very drunk, and so is sent to Newgate.
I to the office and did as much business as my eyes would let me, and so home to supper and to bed.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 08 July 1667. 08 Jul 1667. Up, and to my chamber, and by and by comes Greeting, and to my flageolet with him with a pretty deal of pleasure, and then to the office, where Sir W. Batten (66), Sir W. Pen (46) and I met about putting men to work for the weighing of the ships in the River sunk. Then home again, and there heard Mr. Caesar play some very good things on the lute together with myself on the violl and Greeting on the viallin. Then with my wife abroad by coach, she to her tailor's, I to Westminster to Burges about my Tangier business, and thence to White Hall, where I spoke with Sir John Nicholas, who tells me that Mr. Coventry (39) is come from Bredah, as was expected; but, contrary to expectation, brings with him two or three articles which do not please the King (37): as, to retrench the Act of Navigation, and then to ascertain what are contraband goods; and then that those exiled persons, who are or shall take refuge in their country, may be secure from any further prosecution. Whether these will be enough to break the peace upon, or no, he cannot tell; but I perceive the certainty of peace is blown over. So called on my wife and met Creed by the way, and they two and I to Charing Cross, there to see the great boy and girle that are lately come out of Ireland, the latter eight, the former but four years old, of most prodigious bigness for their age. I tried to weigh them in my arms, and find them twice as heavy as people almost twice their age; and yet I am apt to believe they are very young. Their father a little sorry fellow, and their mother an old Irish woman. They have had four children of this bigness, and four of ordinary growth, whereof two of each are dead. If, as my Lord Ormond (56) certifies, it be true that they are no older, it is very monstrous.
So home and to dinner with my wife and to pipe, and then I to the office, where busy all the afternoon till the evening, and then with my wife by coach abroad to Bow and Stratford, it being so dusty weather that there was little pleasure in it, and so home and to walk in the garden, and thither comes Pelling to us to talk, and so in and to supper, and then to bed. All the world being as I hear very much damped that their hopes of peace is become uncertain again.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 01 September 1667. 01 Sep 1667. Lord's Day. Up, and betimes by water from the Tower, and called at the Old Swan for a glass of strong water, and sent word to have little Michell and his wife come and dine with us to-day; and so, taking in a gentleman and his lady that wanted a boat, I to Westminster. Setting them on shore at Charing Cross, I to Mrs. Martin's, where I had two pair of cuffs which I bespoke, and there did sit and talk with her.... [Missing text: "and no mas, ella having aquellos [ those ] upon her"] and here I did see her little girle my goddaughter, which will be pretty, and there having staid a little I away to Creed's chamber, and when he was ready away to White Hall, where I met with several people and had my fill of talk. Our new Lord-keeper, Bridgeman (61), did this day, the first time, attend the King (37) to chapel with his Seal. Sir H. Cholmly (35) tells me there are hopes that the women will also have a rout, and particularly that my Baroness Castlemayne (26) is coming to a composition with the King (37) to be gone; but how true this is, I know not. Blancfort (26) is made Privy-purse to the Duke of York (33); the Attorney-general (69) is made Chief justice, in the room of my Lord Bridgeman (61); the Solicitor-general (45) is made Attorney-general; and Sir Edward Turner (50) made Solicitor-general.
It is pretty to see how strange every body looks, nobody knowing whence this arises; whether from my Baroness Castlemayne (26), Bab. May (39), and their faction; or from the Duke of York (33), notwithstanding his great appearance of defence of the Chancellor (58); or from Sir William Coventry (39), and some few with him. But greater changes are yet expected.
So home and by water to dinner, where comes Pelting and young Michell and his wife, whom I have not seen a great while, poor girle, and then comes Mr. Howe, and all dined with me very merry, and spent all the afternoon, Pelting, Howe, and I, and my boy, singing of Lock's response to the Ten Commandments, which he hath set very finely, and was a good while since sung before the King (37), and spoiled in the performance, which occasioned his printing them for his vindication, and are excellent good.
They parted, in the evening my wife and I to walk in the garden and there scolded a little, I being doubtful that she had received a couple of fine pinners (one of point de Gesne), which I feared she hath from some [one] or other of a present; but, on the contrary, I find she hath bought them for me to pay for them, without my knowledge. This do displease me much; but yet do so much please me better than if she had received them the other way, that I was not much angry, but fell to other discourse, and so to my chamber, and got her to read to me for saving of my eyes, and then, having got a great cold, I know not how, I to bed and lay ill at ease all the night.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 02 September 1667. 02 Sep 1667. This day is kept in the City as a publick fast for the fire this day twelve months: but I was not at church, being commanded, with the rest, to attend the Duke of York (33); and, therefore, with Sir J. Minnes (68) to St. James's, where we had much business before the Duke of York (33), and observed all things to be very kind between the Duke of York (33) and W. Coventry (39), which did mightily joy me. When we had done, Sir W. Coventry (39) called me down with him to his chamber, and there told me that he is leaving the Duke of York's (33) service, which I was amazed at. But he tells me that it is not with the least unkindness on the Duke of York's (33) side, though he expects, and I told him he was in the right, it will be interpreted otherwise, because done just at this time; "but", says he, "I did desire it a good while since, and the Duke of York (33) did, with much entreaty, grant it, desiring that I would say nothing of it, that he might have time and liberty to choose his successor, without being importuned for others whom he should not like:" and that he hath chosen Mr. Wren, which I am glad of, he being a very ingenious man; and so Sir W. Coventry (39) says of him, though he knows him little; but particularly commends him for the book he writ in answer to "Harrington's (56) Oceana", which, for that reason, I intend to buy. He tells me the true reason is, that he, being a man not willing to undertake more business than he can go through, and being desirous to have his whole time to spend upon the business of the Treasury, and a little for his own ease, he did desire this of the Duke of York (33). He assures me that the kindness with which he goes away from the Duke of York (33) is one of the greatest joys that ever he had in the world. I used some freedom with him, telling him how the world hath discoursed of his having offended the Duke of York (33), about the late business of the Chancellor (58). He do not deny it, but says that perhaps the Duke of York (33) might have some reason for it, he opposing him in a thing wherein he was so earnest but tells me, that, notwithstanding all that, the Duke of York (33) does not now, nor can blame him; for he tells me that he was the man that did propose the removal of the Chancellor (58); and that he did still persist in it, and at this day publickly owns it, and is glad of it; but that the Duke of York (33) knows that he did first speak of it to the Duke of York (33), before he spoke to any mortal creature besides, which was fair dealing: and the Duke of York (33) was then of the same mind with him, and did speak of it to the King (37); though since, for reasons best known to himself, he was afterwards altered. I did then desire to know what was the great matter that grounded his desire of the Chancellor's (58) removal? He told me many things not fit to be spoken, and yet not any thing of his being unfaithful to the King (37); but, 'instar omnium', he told me, that while he was so great at the Council-board, and in the administration of matters, there was no room for any body to propose any remedy to what was amiss, or to compass any thing, though never so good for the Kingdom, unless approved of by the Chancellor (58), he managing all things with that greatness which now will be removed, that the King (37) may have the benefit of others' advice. I then told him that the world hath an opinion that he hath joined himself with my Baroness Castlemayne's (26) faction in this business; he told me, he cannot help it, but says they are in an errour: but for first he will never, while he lives, truckle under any body or any faction, but do just as his own reason and judgment directs; and, when he cannot use that freedom, he will have nothing to do in public affairs but then he added, that he never was the man that ever had any discourse with my Baroness Castlemayne (26), or with others from her, about this or any public business, or ever made her a visit, or at least not this twelvemonth, or been in her lodgings but when called on any business to attend the King (37) there, nor hath had any thing to do in knowing her mind in this business. He ended all with telling me that he knows that he that serves a Prince must expect, and be contented to stand, all fortunes, and be provided to retreat, and that that he is most willing to do whenever the King (37) shall please. And so we parted, he setting me down out of his coach at Charing Cross, and desired me to tell Sir W. Pen (46) what he had told me of his leaving the Duke of York's (33) service, that his friends might not be the last that know it.
I took a coach and went homewards; but then turned again, and to White Hall, where I met with many people; and, among other things, do learn that there is some fear that Mr. Bruncker is got into the King's favour, and will be cherished there; which will breed ill will between the King (37) and Duke of York (33), he lodging at this time in White Hall since he was put away from the Duke of York (33): and he is great with Bab. May (39), my Baroness Castlemayne (26), and that wicked crew. But I find this denied by Sir G. Carteret (57), who tells me that he is sure he hath no kindness from the King (37); that the King (37) at first, indeed, did endeavour to persuade the Duke of York (33) from putting him away; but when, besides this business of his ill words concerning his Majesty in the business of the Chancellor (58), he told him that he hath had, a long time, a mind to put him away for his ill offices, done between him and his wife, the King (37) held his peace, and said no more, but wished him to do what he pleased with him; which was very noble.
I met with Fenn; and he tells me, as I do hear from some others, that the business of the Chancellor's (58) had proceeded from something of a mistake, for the Duke of York (33) did first tell the King (37) that the Chancellor (58) had a desire to be eased of his great trouble; and that the King (37), when the Chancellor (58) come to him, did wonder to hear him deny it, and the Duke of York (33) was forced to deny to the King (37) that ever he did tell him so in those terms: but the King (37) did answer that he was sure that he did say some such thing to him; but, however, since it had gone so far, did desire him to be contented with it, as a thing very convenient for him as well as for himself (the King (37)), and so matters proceeded, as we find. Now it is likely the Chancellor (58) might, some time or other, in a compliment or vanity, say to the Duke of York (33), that he was weary of this burden, and I know not what; and this comes of it. Some people, and myself among them, are of good hope from this change that things are reforming; but there are others that do think but that it is a hit of chance, as all other our greatest matters are, and that there is no general plot or contrivance in any number of people what to do next, though, I believe, Sir W. Coventry (39) may in himself have further designs; and so that, though other changes may come, yet they shall be accidental and laid upon [not] good principles of doing good. Mr. May shewed me the King's new buildings, in order to their having of some old sails for the closing of the windows this winter. I dined with Sir G. Carteret (57), with whom dined Mr. Jack Ashburnham and Dr. Creeton, who I observe to be a most good man and scholar. In discourse at dinner concerning the change of men's humours and fashions touching meats, Mr. Ashburnham (63) told us, that he remembers since the only fruit in request, and eaten by the King (37) and Queen (28) at table as the best fruit, was the Katharine payre, though they knew at the time other fruits of France and our own country.
After dinner comes in Mr. Townsend; and there I was witness of a horrid rateing, which Mr. Ashburnham (63), as one of the Grooms of the King's Bedchamber, did give him for want of linen for the King's person; which he swore was not to be endured, and that the King (37) would not endure it, and that the King (37) his father, would have hanged his Wardrobe-man should he have been served so the King (37) having at this day no handkerchers, and but three bands to his neck, he swore. Mr. Townsend answered want of money, and the owing of the linen-draper £5000; and that he hath of late got many rich things made—beds, and sheets, and saddles, and all without money, and he can go no further but still this old man, indeed, like an old loving servant, did cry out for the King's person to be neglected. But, when he was gone, Townsend told me that it is the grooms taking away the King's linen at the quarter's end, as their fees, which makes this great want: for, whether the King (37) can get it or no, they will run away at the quarter's end with what he hath had, let the King (37) get more as he can. All the company gone, Sir G. Carteret (57) and I to talk: and it is pretty to observe how already he says that he did always look upon the Chancellor (58) indeed as his friend, though he never did do him any service at all, nor ever got any thing by him, nor was he a man apt, and that, I think, is true, to do any man any kindness of his own nature; though I do know that he was believed by all the world to be the greatest support of Sir G. Carteret (57) with the King (37) of any man in England: but so little is now made of it! He observes that my Lord Sandwich (42) will lose a great friend in him; and I think so too, my Lord Hinchingbrooke (19) being about a match calculated purely out of respect to my Chancellor's (58) family.
By and by Sir G. Carteret (57), and Townsend, and I, to consider of an answer to the Commissioners of the Treasury about my Lord Sandwich's (42) profits in the Wardrobe; which seem, as we make them, to be very small, not £1000 a-year; but only the difference in measure at which he buys and delivers out to the King (37), and then 6d. in the pound from the tradesmen for what money he receives for him; but this, it is believed, these Commissioners will endeavour to take away. From him I went to see a great match at tennis, between Prince Rupert (47) and one Captain Cooke (51), against Bab. May (39) and the elder Chichly (53); where the King (37) was, and Court; and it seems are the best players at tennis in the nation. But this puts me in mind of what I observed in the morning, that the King (37), playing at tennis, had a steele-yard carried to him, and I was told it was to weigh him after he had done playing; and at noon Mr. Ashburnham (63) told me that it is only the King's curiosity, which he usually hath of weighing himself before and after his play, to see how much he loses in weight by playing: and this day he lost 4 lbs.
Thence home and took my wife out to Mile End Green, and there I drank, and so home, having a very fine evening. Then home, and I to Sir W. Batten (66) and Sir W. Pen (46), and there discoursed of Sir W. Coventry's (39) leaving the Duke of York (33), and Mr. Wren's succeeding him. They told me both seriously, that they had long cut me out for Secretary to the Duke of York (33), if ever Sir W. Coventry (39) left him; which, agreeing with what I have heard from other hands heretofore, do make me not only think that something of that kind hath been thought on, but do comfort me to see that the world hath such an esteem of my qualities as to think me fit for any such thing. Though I am glad, with all my heart, that I am not so; for it would never please me to be forced to the attendance that that would require, and leave my wife and family to themselves, as I must do in such a case; thinking myself now in the best place that ever man was in to please his own mind in, and, therefore, I will take care to preserve it.
So to bed, my cold remaining though not so much upon me. This day Nell, an old tall maid, come to live with us, a cook maid recommended by Mr. Batelier.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 26 September 1667. 26 Sep 1667. Up, and to my chamber, whither Jonas Moore (50) comes, and, among other things, after our business done, discoursing of matters of the office, I shewed him my varnished things, which he says he can outdo much, and tells me the mighty use of Napier's bones1 so that I will have a pair presently.
To the office, where busy all the morning sitting, and at noon home to dinner, and then with my wife abroad to the King's playhouse, to shew her yesterday's new play, which I like as I did yesterday, the principal thing extraordinary being the dance, which is very good.
So to Charing Cross by coach, about my wife's business, and then home round by London Wall, it being very dark and dirty, and so to supper, and, for the ease of my eyes, to bed, having first ended all my letters at the office.
1. John Napier or Neper (1550-1617), laird of Merchiston (now swallowed up in the enlarged Edinburgh of to-day, although the old castle still stands), and the inventor of logarithms. He published his "Rabdologiae seu numerationis per virgulas libri duo" in 1617, and the work was reprinted and translated into Italian (1623) and Dutch (1626). In 1667 William Leybourn published "The Art of Numbering by Speaking Rods, vulgarly termed Napier's Bones"..
Diary of Samuel Pepys 24 October 1667. 24 Oct 1667. Up, and to the office, where all the morning very busy, and at noon took Mr. Hater home with me to dinner, and instantly back again to write what letters I had to write, that I might go abroad with my wife, who was not well, only to jumble her, and so to the Duke of York's playhouse; but there Betterton (32) not being yet well, we would not stay, though since I hear that Smith do act his part in "The Villaine", which was then acted, as well or better than he, which I do not believe; but to Charing Cross, there to see Polichinelli. But, it being begun, we in to see a Frenchman, at the house, where my wife's father last lodged, one Monsieur Prin, play on the trump-marine1, which he do beyond belief; and, the truth is, it do so far outdo a trumpet as nothing more, and he do play anything very true, and it is most admirable and at first was a mystery to me that I should hear a whole concert of chords together at the end of a pause, but he showed me that it was only when the last notes were 5ths or 3rds, one to another, and then their sounds like an Echo did last so as they seemed to sound all together. The instrument is open at the end, I discovered; but he would not let me look into it, but I was mightily pleased with it, and he did take great pains to shew me all he could do on it, which was very much, and would make an excellent concert, two or three of them, better than trumpets can ever do, because of their want of compass. Here we also saw again the two fat children come out of Ireland, and a brother and sister of theirs now come, which are of little ordinary growth, like other people. But, Lord! how strange it is to observe the difference between the same children, come out of the same little woman's belly! Thence to Mile-End Greene, and there drank, and so home bringing home night with us, and so to the office a little, and then to bed.
1. The Trumpet marine is a stringed instrument having a triangular-shaped body or chest and a long neck, a single string raised on a bridge and running along the body and neck. It was played with a bow.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 05 January 1668. 05 Jan 1668. Lord's Day. Up, and being ready, and disappointed of a coach, it breaking a wheel just as it was coming for me, I walked as far as the Temple, it being dirty, and as I went out of my doors my cozen Anthony_Joyce_1668 met me, and so walked part of the way with me, and it was to see what I would do upon what his wife a little while since did desire, which was to supply him £350 to enable him to go to build his house again. I (who in my nature am mighty unready to answer no to anything, and thereby wonder that I have suffered no more in my life by my easiness in that kind than I have) answered him that I would do it, and so I will, he offering me good security, and so it being left for me to consider the manner of doing it we parted.
Taking coach as I said before at the Temple, I to Charing Cross, and there went into Unthanke's to have my shoes wiped, dirty with walking, and so to White Hall, where I visited the Vice-Chamberlain (58), who tells me, and so I find by others, that the business of putting out of some of the Privy-council is over, the King (37) being at last advised to forbear it; for whereas he did design it to make room for some of the House of Commons that are against him, thereby to gratify them, it is believed that it will but so much the more fret the rest that are not provided for, and raise a new stock of enemies by them that are displeased, and so all they think is over: and it goes for a pretty saying of my Lord Anglesey's (53) up and down the Court, that he should lately say to one of them that are the great promoters of this putting him and others out of the Council, "Well", says he, "and what are we to look for when we are outed? Will all things be set right in the nation?" The other said that he did believe that many things would be mended: "But", says my Lord, "will you and the rest of you be contented to be hanged, if you do not redeem all our misfortunes and set all right, if the power be put into your hands?" The other answered, "No, I would not undertake that:"—"Why, then", says my Lord, "I and the rest of us that you are labouring to put out, will be contented to be hanged, if we do not recover all that is past, if the King (37) will put the power into our hands, and adhere wholly to our advice"; which saying as it was severe, so generally people have so little opinion of those that are likely to be uppermost that they do mightily commend my Lord Anglesey (53) for this saying.
From the Vice-Chamberlain (58) up and down the house till Chapel done, and then did speak with several that I had a mind to, and so intending to go home, my Baroness Carteret (66) saw and called me out of her window, and so would have me home with her to Lincoln's Inn Fields to dinner, and there we met with my Lord Brereton (36), and several other strangers, to dine there; and I find him a very sober and serious, able man, and was in discourse too hard for the Bishop of Chester (93), who dined there; and who, above all books lately wrote, commending the matter and style of a late book, called "The Causes of the Decay of Piety", I do resolve at his great commendation to buy it. Here dined also Sir Philip Howard (37), a Barkeshire Howard, whom I did once hear swear publickly and loud in the Matted Gallery that he had not been at a wench in so long a time. He did take occasion to tell me at the table that I have got great ground in the Parliament, by my ready answers to all that was asked me there about the business of Chatham, and they would never let me be out of employment, of which I made little; but was glad to hear him, as well as others, say it. And he did say also, relating to Commissioner Pett (57), that he did not think that he was guilty of anything like a fault, that he was either able or concerned to amend, but only the not carrying up of the ships higher, he meant; but he said, three or four miles lower down, to Rochester Bridge, which is a strange piece of ignorance in a Member of Parliament at such a time as this, and after so many examinations in the house of this business; and did boldly declare that he did think the fault to lie in my Lord_Middleton (60), who had the power of the place, to secure the boats that were made ready by Pett, and to do anything that he thought fit, and was much, though not altogether in the right, for Spragg, that commanded the river, ought rather to be charged with the want of the boats and the placing of them.
After dinner, my Lord Brereton (36) very gentilely went to the organ, and played a verse very handsomely.
Thence after dinner away with Sir G. Carteret (58) to White Hall, setting down my Lord Brereton (36) at my Lord Brouncker's (48), and there up and down the house, and on the Queen's (29) side, to see the ladies, and there saw the Duchesse of York (30), whom few pay the respect they used, I think, to her; but she bears all out, with a very great deal of greatness; that is the truth of it. And so, it growing night, I away home by coach, and there set my wife to read, and then comes Pelling, and he and I to sing a little, and then sup and so to bed.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 18 February 1668. 18 Feb 1668. Up by break of day, and walked down to the old Swan, where I find little Michell building, his booth being taken down, and a foundation laid for a new house, so that that street is like to be a very fine place. I drank, but did not see Betty, and so to Charing Cross stairs, and thence walked to Sir W. Coventry's (40)1, and talked with him, who tells me how he hath been persecuted, and how he is yet well come off in the business of the dividing of the fleete, and the sending of the letter. He expects next to be troubled about the business of bad officers in the fleete, wherein he will bid them name whom they call bad, and he will justify himself, having never disposed of any but by the Admiral's liking. And he is able to give an account of all them, how they come recommended, and more will be found to have been placed by the Prince and Duke of Albemarle (59) than by the Duke of York (34) during the war, and as no bad instance of the badness of officers he and I did look over the list of commanders, and found that we could presently recollect thirty-seven commanders that have been killed in actuall service this war. He tells me that Sir Fr. Hollis (25) is the main man that hath persecuted him hitherto, in the business of dividing the fleete, saying vainly that the want of that letter to the Prince hath given him that, that he shall remember it by to his grave, meaning the loss of his arme; when, God knows! he is as idle and insignificant a fellow as ever come into the fleete. He tells me that in discourse on Saturday he did repeat Sir Rob. Howard's (42) words about rowling out of counsellors, that for his part he neither cared who they rowled in, nor who they rowled out, by which the word is become a word of use in the House, the rowling out of officers. I will remember what, in mirth, he said to me this morning, when upon this discourse he said, if ever there was another Dutch war, they should not find a Secretary; "Nor", said I, "a Clerk of the Acts, for I see the reward of it; and, thanked God! I have enough of my own to buy me a good book and a good fiddle, and I have a good wife";—"Why", says he, "I have enough to buy me a good book, and shall not need a fiddle, because I have never a one of your good wives". I understand by him that we are likely to have our business of tickets voted a miscarriage, but (he) cannot tell me what that will signify more than that he thinks they will report them to the King (37) and there leave them, but I doubt they will do more.
Thence walked over St. James's Park to White Hall, and thence to Westminster Hall, and there walked all the morning, and did speak with several Parliament-men-among others, Birch (52), who is very kind to me, and calls me, with great respect and kindness, a man of business, and he thinks honest, and so long will stand by me, and every such man, to the death. My business was to instruct them to keep the House from falling into any mistaken vote about the business of tickets, before they were better informed. I walked in the Hall all the morning with my Lord Brouncker (48), who was in great pain there, and, the truth is, his business is, without reason, so ill resented by the generality of the House, that I was almost troubled to be seen to walk with him, and yet am able to justify him in all, that he is under so much scandal for. Here I did get a copy of the report itself, about our paying off men by tickets; and am mightily glad to see it, now knowing the state of our case, and what we have to answer to, and the more for that the House is like to be kept by other business to-day and to-morrow, so that, against Thursday, I shall be able to draw up some defence to put into some Member's hands, to inform them, and I think we may [make] a very good one, and therefore my mind is mightily at ease about it. This morning they are upon a Bill, brought in to-day by Sir Richard Temple (33), for obliging the King (37) to call Parliaments every three years; or, if he fail, for others to be obliged to do it, and to keep him from a power of dissolving any Parliament in less than forty days after their first day of sitting, which is such a Bill as do speak very high proceedings, to the lessening of the King (37); and this they will carry, and whatever else they desire, before they will give any money; and the King (37) must have money, whatever it cost him. I stepped to the Dog tavern, and thither come to me Doll Lane, and there we did drink together, and she tells me she is my valentine...
Thence, she being gone, and having spoke with Mr. Spicer here, whom I sent for hither to discourse about the security of the late Act of 11 months' tax on which I have secured part of my money lent to Tangier. I to the Hall, and there met Sir W. Pen (46), and he and I to the Beare, in Drury Lane, an excellent ordinary, after the French manner, but of Englishmen; and there had a good fricassee, our dinner coming to 8s., which was mighty pretty, to my great content; and thence, he and I to the King's house, and there, in one of the upper boxes, saw "Flora's Vagarys", which is a very silly play; and the more, I being out of humour, being at a play without my wife, and she ill at home, and having no desire also to be seen, and, therefore, could not look about me.
Thence to the Temple, and there we parted, and I to see Kate Joyce, where I find her and her friends in great ease of mind, the jury having this day given in their verdict that her husband died of a feaver. Some opposition there was, the foreman pressing them to declare the cause of the feaver, thinking thereby to obstruct it: but they did adhere to their verdict, and would give no reason; so all trouble is now over, and she safe in her estate, which I am mighty glad of, and so took leave, and home, and up to my wife, not owning my being at a play, and there she shews me her ring of a Turky-stone set with little sparks of dyamonds2, which I am to give her, as my Valentine, and I am not much troubled at it. It will cost me near £5—she costing me but little compared with other wives, and I have not many occasions to spend on her.
So to my office, where late, and to think upon my observations to-morrow, upon the report of the Committee to the Parliament about the business of tickets, whereof my head is full, and so home to supper and to bed.
1. Sir William Coventry's (40) love of money is said by Sir John Denham (53) to have influenced him in promoting naval officers, who paid him for their commissions. "Then Painter! draw cerulian Coventry Keeper, or rather Chancellor o' th' sea And more exactly to express his hue, Use nothing but ultra-mariuish blue. To pay his fees, the silver Trumpet spends, And boatswain's whistle for his place depends. Pilots in vain repeat their compass o'er, Until of him they learn that one point more The constant magnet to the pole doth hold, Steel to the magnet, Coventry to gold. Muscovy sells us pitch, and hemp, and tar; Iron and copper, Sweden; Munster, war; Ashley, prize; Warwick, custom; Cart'ret, pay; But Coventry doth sell the fleet away". B.
2. The turquoise. This stone was sometimes referred to simply as the turkey, and Broderip ("Zoological Recreations") conjectured that the bird (turkey) took its name from the blue or turquoise colour of the skin about its head.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 26 February 1668. 26 Feb 1668. Up, and by water to Charing Cross stairs, and thence to W. Coventry to discourse concerning the state of matters in the Navy, where he particularly acquainted me with the trouble he is like to meet with about the selling of places, all carried on by Sir Fr. Hollis (25), but he seems not to value it, being able to justify it to be lawful and constant practice, and never by him used in the least degree since he upon his own motion did obtain a salary of £500 in lieu thereof.
Thence to the Treasury Chamber about a little business, and so home by coach, and in my way did meet W. Howe going to the Commissioners of Accounts. I stopped and spoke to him, and he seems well resolved what to answer them, but he will find them very strict, and not easily put off: So home and there to dinner, and after dinner comes W. Howe to tell me how he sped, who says he was used civilly, and not so many questions asked as he expected; but yet I do perceive enough to shew that they do intend to know the bottom of things, and where to lay the great weight of the disposal of these East India goods, and that they intend plainly to do upon my Lord Sandwich (42).
Thence with him by coach and set him down at the Temple, and I to Westminster Hall, where, it being now about six o'clock, I find the House just risen; and met with Sir W. Coventry (40) and the Lieutenant of the Tower, they having sat all day; and with great difficulty have got a vote for giving the King (37) £300,000, not to be raised by any land-tax. The sum is much smaller than I expected, and than the King (37) needs; but is grounded upon Mr. Wren's reading our estimates the other day of £270,000, to keep the fleete abroad, wherein we demanded nothing for setting and fitting of them out, which will cost almost £200,000, I do verily believe: and do believe that the King (37) hath no cause to thank Wren for this motion. I home to Sir W. Coventry's (40) lodgings, with him and the Lieutenant of the Tower, where also was Sir John Coventry, and Sir John Duncomb (45), and Sir Job Charleton. And here a great deal of good discourse: and they seem mighty glad to have this vote pass, which I did wonder at, to see them so well satisfied with so small a sum, Sir John Duncomb (45) swearing, as I perceive he will freely do, that it was as much as the nation could beare. Among other merry discourse about spending of money, and how much more chargeable a man's living is now more than it was heretofore, Duncomb did swear that in France he did live of £100 a year with more plenty, and wine and wenches, than he believes can be done now for £200, which was pretty odd for him, being a Committee-man's son, to say. Having done here, and supped, where I eat very little, we home in Sir John Robinson's (53) coach, and there to bed.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 15 March 1668. 15 Mar 1668. Lord's Day. Up and walked, it being fine dry weather, to Sir W. Coventry's (40), overtaking my boy Ely (that was), and he walked with me, being grown a man, and I think a sober fellow. He parted at Charing Cross, and I to Sir W. Coventry's (40), and there talked with him about the Commissioners of Accounts, who did give in their report yesterday to the House, and do lay little upon us as aggravate any thing at present, but only do give an account of the dissatisfactory account they receive from Sir G. Carteret (58), which I am sorry for, they saying that he tells them not any time when he paid any sum, which is fit for them to know for the computing of interest, but I fear he is hardly able to tell it. They promise to give them an account of the embezzlement of prizes, wherein I shall be something concerned, but nothing that I am afeard of, I thank God.
Thence walked with W. Coventry (40) into the Park, and there met the King (37) and the Duke of York (34), and walked a good while with them: and here met Sir Jer. Smith, who tells me he is like to get the better of Holmes, and that when he is come to an end of that, he will do Hollis's (25) business for him, in the House, for his blasphemies, which I shall be glad of.
So to White Hall, and there walked with this man and that man till chapel done, and, the King (37) dined and then Sir Thomas Clifford (37), the Comptroller, took me with him to dinner to his lodgings, where my Lord Arlington (50) and a great deal of good and great company; where I very civilly used by them, and had a most excellent dinner: and good discourse of Spain, Mr. Godolphin (33) being there; particularly of the removal of the bodies of all the dead Kings of Spain that could be got together, and brought to the Pantheon at the Escuriall, when it was finished, and there placed before the altar, there to lie for ever; and there was a sermon made to them upon this text, "Arida ossa, audite verbum Dei"; and a most eloquent sermon, as they say, who say they have read it.
After dinner, away hence, and I to Mrs. Martin's, and there spent the afternoon, and did hazer con elle, and here was her sister and Mrs. Burrows, and so in the evening got a coach and home, and there find Mr. Pelting and W. Hewer (26), and there talked and supped, Pelting being gone, and mightily pleased with a picture that W. Hewer (26) brought hither of several things painted upon a deale board, which board is so well painted that in my whole life I never was so well pleased or surprized with any picture, and so troubled that so good pictures should be painted upon a piece of bad deale. Even after I knew that it was not board, but only the picture of a board, I could not remove my fancy. After supper to bed, being very sleepy, and, I bless God, my mind being at very good present rest.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 26 April 1668. 26 Apr 1668. Lord's Day. Lay long, and then up and to Church, and so home, where there come and dined with me Harris (34), Rolt (39), and Bannister, and one Bland, that sings well also, and very merry at dinner, and, after dinner, to sing all the afternoon. But when all was done, I did begin to think that the pleasure of these people was not worth so often charge and cost to me, as it hath occasioned me. They being gone I and Balty (28) walked as far as Charing Cross, and there got a coach and to Hales's (68) the painter, thinking to have found Harris (34) sitting there for his picture, which is drawing for me. But he, and all this day's company, and Hales (68), were got to the Crown tavern, at next door, and thither I to them and stayed a minute, leaving Captain Grant (48) telling pretty stories of people that have killed themselves, or been accessory to it, in revenge to other people, and to mischief other people, and thence with Hales (68) to his house, and there did see his beginning of Harris's (34) picture, which I think will be pretty like, and he promises a very good picture.
Thence with Balty (28) away and got a coach and to Hide Park, and there up and down and did drink some milk at the Lodge, and so home and to bed.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 04 May 1668. 04 May 1668. Up betimes, and by water to Charing Cross, and so to W. Coventry (40), and there talked a little with him, and thence over the Park to White Hall, and there did a little business at the Treasury, and so to the Duke (34), and there present Balty (28) to the Duke of York (34) and a letter from the Board to him about him, and the Duke of York (34) is mightily pleased with him, and I doubt not his continuance in employment, which I am glad of.
Thence away home and there did business, and so to dinner, my sister Michell and I, and thence to the Duke of York's (34) house, and there saw "The Impertinents" again, and with less pleasure than before, it being but a very contemptible play, though there are many little witty expressions in it; and the pit did generally say that of it.
Thence, going out, Mrs. Pierce called me from the gallery, and there I took her and Mrs. Corbet by coach up and down, and took up Captain Rolt in the street; and at last, it being too late to go to the Park, I carried them to the Beare in Drury Lane, and there did treat them with a dish of mackrell, the first I have seen this year, and another dish, and mighty merry; and so carried her home, and thence home myself, well pleased with this evening's pleasure, and so to bed.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 20 May 1668. 20 May 1668. Up, and with Colonell Middleton, in a new coach he hath made him, very handsome, to White Hall, where the Duke of York (34) having removed his lodgings for this year to St. James's, we walked thither; and there find the Duke of York (34) coming to White Hall, and so back to the Council-chamber, where the Committee of the Navy sat; and here we discoursed several things; but, Lord! like fools; so as it was a shame to see things of this importance managed by a Council that understand nothing of them: and, among other things, one was about this building of a ship with Hemskirke's secret, to sail a third faster than any other ship; but he hath got Prince Rupert (48) on his side, and by that means, I believe, will get his conditions made better than he would otherwise, or ought indeed. Having done there, I met with Sir Richard Browne (63), and he took me to dinner with him to a new tavern, above Charing Cross, where some clients of his did give him a good dinner, and good company; among others, one Bovy, a solicitor, and lawyer and merchant all together, who hath travelled very much, did talk some things well; but only he is a "Sir Positive:" but the talk of their travels over the Alps very fine.
Thence walked to the King's playhouse, and saw "The Mulberry Garden" again, and cannot be reconciled to it, but only to find here and there an independent sentence of wit, and that is all. Here met with Creed; and took him to Hales's (68), and there saw the beginnings of Harris's (34) head which he draws for me, which I do not yet like. So he and I down to the New Exchange, and there cheapened ribbands for my wife, and so down to the Whey house and drank some and eat some curds, which did by and by make my belly ake mightily. So he and I to White Hall, and walked over the Park to the Mulberry-Garden1, where I never was before; and find it a very silly place, worse than Spring-garden, and but little company, and those a rascally, whoring, roguing sort of people, only a wilderness here, that is somewhat pretty, but rude. Did not stay to drink, but walked an hour and so away to Charing Cross, and there took coach and away home, in my way going into Bishopsgate Street, to bespeak places for myself and boy to go to Cambridge in the coach this week, and so to Brampton, to see my wife.
So home, and to supper and to bed.
1. On the site of the present Buckingham Palace and gardens. Originally a garden of mulberry trees, planted by James I in 1609 with the intention of cultivating the manufacture of English silks.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 20 June 1668. 20 Jun 1668. Up, and talked with my wife all in good humour, and so to the office, where all the morning, and then home to dinner, and so she and I alone to the King's house, and there I saw this new play my wife saw yesterday, and do not like it, it being very smutty, and nothing so good as "The Maiden Queen", or "The Indian Emperour", of his making, that I was troubled at it; and my wife tells me wholly (which he confesses a little in the epilogue) taken out of the "Illustre Bassa". So she to Unthanke's and I to Mr. Povy (54), and there settled some business; and here talked of things, and he thinks there will be great revolutions, and that Creed will be a great man, though a rogue, he being a man of the old strain, which will now be up again. So I took coach, and set Povy (54) down at Charing Cross, and took my wife up, and calling at the New Exchange at Smith's shop, and kissed her pretty hand, and so we home, and there able to do nothing by candlelight, my eyes being now constantly so bad that I must take present advice or be blind.
So to supper, grieved for my eyes, and to bed.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 26 June 1668. 26 Jun 1668. All the morning doing business at the office. At noon, with my Fellow-Officers, to the Dolphin, at Sir G. Carteret's (58) charge, to dinner, he having some accounts examined this morning. All the afternoon we all at Sir W. Pen's (47) with him about the Victuallers' accounts, and then in the evening to Charing Cross, and there took up my wife at her tailor's, and so home and to walk in the garden, and then to sup and to bed.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 26 September 1668. 26 Sep 1668. Could sleep but little last night, for my concernments in this business of the victualling for Sir Prince, so up in the morning and he comes to me, and there I did tell him all, and give him my advice, and so he away, and I to the office, where we met and did a little business, and I left them and by water to attend the Council, which I did all the morning, but was not called in, but the Council meets again in the afternoon on purpose about it. So I at noon to Westminster Hall and there stayed a little, and at the Swan also, thinking to have got Doll Lane thither, but elle did not understand my signs; and so I away and walked to Charing Cross, and there into the great new Ordinary, by my Lord Mulgrave's, being led thither by Mr. Beale (36), one of Oliver's, and now of the King's Guards; and he sat with me while I had two grilled pigeons, very handsome and good meat: and there he and I talked of our old acquaintances, W. Clerke and others, he being a very civil man, and so walked to Westminster and there parted, and I to the Swan again, but did nothing, and so to White Hall, and there attended the King (38) and Council, who met and heard our answer. I present, and then withdrew; and they sent two hours at least afterwards about it, and at last rose; and to my great content, the Duke of York (34), at coming out, told me that it was carried for Prince at 6d. 8d., and 8 3/4d.; but with great difficulty, I understand, both from him and others, so much that Sir Edward Walker told me that he prays to God he may never live to need to plead his merit, for D. Gawden's sake; for that it hath stood him in no stead in this business at all, though both he and all the world that speaks of him, speaks of him as the most deserving man of any servant of the King's in the whole nation, and so I think he is: but it is done, and my heart is glad at it. So I took coach and away, and in Holborne overtook D. Gawden's coach, and stopped and went home, and Gibson to come after, and to my house, where Prince did talk a little, and he do mightily acknowledge my kindness to him, and I know I have done the King (38) and myself good service in it. So he gone, and myself in mighty great content in what is done, I to the office a little, and then home to supper, and the boy to read to me, and so to bed. This noon I went to my Lady Peterborough's (46) house, and talked with her about the money due to her Lord, and it gives me great trouble, her importunity and impertinency about it. This afternoon at Court I met with Lord Hinchingbrooke (20), newly come out of the country, who tells me that Creed's business with Mrs. Pickering (26) will do, which I am neither troubled nor glad at.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 21 October 1668. 21 Oct 1668. Lay pretty long talking with content with my wife about our coach and things, and so to the office, where Sir Prince was to do something in his accounts.
At noon to dinner to Mr. Batelier's, his mother coming this day a-housewarming to him, and several friends of his, to which he invited us. Here mighty merry, and his mother the same; I heretofore took her for a gentlewoman, and understanding. I rose from table before the rest, because under an obligation to go to my Lord Brouncker's (48), where to meet several gentlemen of the Royal Society, to go and make a visit to the French Embassador Colbert (43), at Leicester House, he having endeavoured to make one or two to my Lord Brouncker (48), as our President, but he was not within, but I come too late, they being gone before: but I followed to Leicester House; but they are gore in and up before me; and so I away to the New Exchange, and there staid for my wife, and she come, we to Cow Lane, and there I shewed her the coach which I pitch on, and she is out of herself for joy almost. But the man not within, so did nothing more towards an agreement, but to Crow's (51) about a bed, to have his advice, and so home, and there had my wife to read to me, and so to supper and to bed. Memorandum: that from Crow's, we went back to Charing Cross, and there left my people at their tailor's, while I to my Lord Sandwich's (43) lodgings, who come to town the last night, and is come thither to lye: and met with him within: and among others my new cozen Creed, who looks mighty soberly; and he and I saluted one another with mighty gravity, till we come to a little more freedom of talk about it. But here I hear that Sir Gilbert Pickering is lately dead, about three days since, which makes some sorrow there, though not much, because of his being long expected to die, having been in a lethargy long. So waited on my Lord to Court, and there staid and saw the ladies awhile: and thence to my wife, and took them up; and so home, and to supper and bed.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 13 November 1668. 13 Nov 1668. Up, and with Sir W. Pen (47) by coach to White Hall, where to the Duke of York (35), and there did our usual business; and thence I to the Commissioners of the Treasury, where I staid, and heard an excellent case argued between my Lord Gerard (50) and the Town of Newcastle, about a piece of ground which that Lord hath got a grant of, under the Exchequer Seal, which they were endeavouring to get of the King (38) under the Great Seal. I liked mightily the Counsel for the town, Shaftow, their Recorder, and Mr. Offly. But I was troubled, and so were the Lords, to hear my Lord fly out against their great pretence of merit from the King (38), for their sufferings and loyalty; telling them that they might thank him for that repute which they have for their loyalty, for that it was he that forced them to be so, against their wills, when he was there: and, moreover, did offer a paper to the Lords to read from the Town, sent in 1648; but the Lords would not read it; but I believe it was something about bringing the King (38) to trial, or some such thing, in that year.
Thence I to the Three Tuns Tavern, by Charing Cross, and there dined with W. Pen (47), Sir J. Minnes (69), and Commissioner Middleton; and as merry as my mind could be, that hath so much trouble upon it at home. And thence to White Hall, and there staid in Mr. Wren's chamber with him, reading over my draught of a letter, which Mr. Gibson then attended me with; and there he did like all, but doubted whether it would be necessary for the Duke to write in so sharp a style to the Office, as I had drawn it in; which I yield to him, to consider the present posture of the times and the Duke of York (35) and whether it were not better to err on that hand than the other. He told me that he did not think it was necessary for the Duke of York (35) to do so, and that it would not suit so well with his nature nor greatness; which last, perhaps, is true, but then do too truly shew the effects of having Princes in places, where order and discipline should be. I left it to him to do as the Duke of York (35) pleases; and so fell to other talk, and with great freedom, of public things; and he told me, upon my several inquiries to that purpose, that he did believe it was not yet resolved whether the Parliament should ever meet more or no, the three great rulers of things now standing thus:-The Duke of Buckingham (40) is absolutely against their meeting, as moved thereto by his people that he advises with, the people of the late times, who do never expect to have any thing done by this Parliament for their religion, and who do propose that, by the sale of the Church-lands, they shall be able to put the King (38) out of debt: my Lord Keeper is utterly against putting away this and choosing another Parliament, lest they prove worse than this, and will make all the King's friends, and the King (38) himself, in a desperate condition: my Lord Arlington (50) know not which is best for him, being to seek whether this or the next will use him worst. He tells me that he believes that it is intended to call this Parliament, and try them with a sum of money; and, if they do not like it, then to send them going, and call another, who will, at the ruin of the Church perhaps, please the King (38) with what he will for a time. And he tells me, therefore, that he do believe that this policy will be endeavoured by the Church and their friends-to seem to promise the King (38) money, when it shall be propounded, but make the King (38) and these great men buy it dear, before they have it. He tells me that he is really persuaded that the design of the Duke of Buckingham (40) is, by bringing the state into such a condition as, if the King (38) do die without issue, it shall, upon his death, break into pieces again; and so put by the Duke of York (35), who they have disobliged, they know, to that degree, as to despair of his pardon. He tells me that there is no way to rule the King (38) but by brisknesse, which the Duke of Buckingham (40) hath above all men; and that the Duke of York (35) having it not, his best way is what he practices, that is to say, a good temper, which will support him till the Duke of Buckingham (40) and Lord Arlington (50) fall out, which cannot be long first, the former knowing that the latter did, in the time of the Chancellor (59), endeavour with the Chancellor (59) to hang him at that time, when he was proclaimed against. And here, by the by, he told me that the Duke of Buckingham (40) did, by his friends, treat with my Chancellor (59), by the mediation of Matt. Wren (39) and Matt. Clifford, to fall in with my Chancellor (59); which, he tells me, he did advise my Chancellor (59) to accept of, as that, that with his own interest and the Duke of York's (35), would undoubtedly have assured all to him and his family; but that my Chancellor (59) was a man not to be advised, thinking himself too high to be counselled: and so all is come to nothing; for by that means the Duke of Buckingham (40) became desperate, and was forced to fall in with Arlington (50), to his [the Chancellor's (59)] ruin.
Thence I home, and there to talk, with great pleasure all the evening, with my wife, who tells me that Deb, has been abroad to-day, and is come home and says she has got a place to go to, so as she will be gone tomorrow morning. This troubled me, and the truth is, I have a good mind to have the maidenhead of this girl, which I should not doubt to have if je could get time para be con her. But she will be gone and I not know whither. Before we went to bed my wife told me she would not have me to see her or give her her wages, and so I did give my wife £10 for her year and half a quarter's wages, which she went into her chamber and paid her, and so to bed, and there, blessed be God! we did sleep well and with peace, which I had not done in now almost twenty nights together. This afternoon I went to my coachmaker and Crow's (51), and there saw things go on to my great content. This morning, at the Treasury-chamber, I did meet Jack Fenn, and there he did shew me my Lord Anglesey's (54) petition and the King's answer: the former good and stout, as I before did hear it: but the latter short and weak, saying that he was not, by what the King (38) had done, hindered from taking the benefit of his laws, and that the reason he had to suspect his mismanagement of his money in Ireland, did make him think it unfit to trust him with his Treasury in England, till he was satisfied in the former.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 10 February 1669. 10 Feb 1669. Up, and with my wife and W. Hewer (27), she set us down at White Hall, where the Duke of York (35) was gone a-hunting: and so, after I had done a little business there, I to my wife, and with her to the plaisterer's at Charing Cross, that casts heads and bodies in plaister: and there I had my whole face done; but I was vexed first to be forced to daub all my face over with pomatum: but it was pretty to feel how soft and easily it is done on the face, and by and by, by degrees, how hard it becomes, that you cannot break it, and sits so close, that you cannot pull it off, and yet so easy, that it is as soft as a pillow, so safe is everything where many parts of the body do bear alike. Thus was the mould made; but when it came off there was little pleasure in it, as it looks in the mould, nor any resemblance whatever there will be in the figure, when I come to see it cast off, which I am to call for a day or two hence, which I shall long to see.
Thence to Hercules Pillars, and there my wife and W. Hewer (27) and I dined, and back to White Hall, where I staid till the Duke of York (35) come from hunting, which he did by and by, and, when dressed, did come out to dinner; and there I waited: and he did tell me that to-morrow was to be the great day that the business of the Navy would be dis coursed of before the King (38) and his Caball, and that he must stand on his guard, and did design to have had me in readiness by, but that upon second thoughts did think it better to let it alone, but they are now upon entering into the economical part of the Navy. Here he dined, and did mightily magnify his sauce, which he did then eat with every thing, and said it was the best universal sauce in the world, it being taught him by the Spanish Embassador; made of some parsley and a dry toast, beat in a mortar, together with vinegar, salt, and a little pepper: he eats it with flesh, or fowl, or fish: and then he did now mightily commend some new sort of wine lately found out, called Navarre wine, which I tasted, and is, I think, good wine: but I did like better the notion of the sauce, and by and by did taste it, and liked it mightily.
After dinner, I did what I went for, which was to get his consent that Balty (29) might hold his Muster-Master's place by deputy, in his new employment which I design for him, about the Storekeeper's accounts; which the Duke of York (35) did grant me, and I was mighty glad of it.
Thence home, and there I find Povy (55) and W. Batelier, by appointment, met to talk of some merchandize of wine and linnen; but I do not like of their troubling my house to meet in, having no mind to their pretences of having their rendezvous here, but, however, I was not much troubled, but went to the office, and there very busy, and did much business till late at night, and so home to supper, and with great pleasure to bed. This day, at dinner, I sent to Mr. Spong to come to me to Hercules Pillars, who come to us, and there did bring with him my new Parallelogram of brass, which I was mightily pleased with, and paid for it 25s., and am mightily pleased with his ingenious and modest company.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 17 February 1669. 17 Feb 1669. Up, and with W. Hewer (27) with me to Lincoln's Inn, by appointment, to have spoke with Mr. Pedley about Mr. Goldsborough's business and Mr. Weaver's, but he was gone out, and so I with Mr. Castle (40), the son-in-law of Weaver, to White Hall to look for him, but did not find him, but here I did meet with several and talked, and do hear only that the King (38) dining yesterday at the Dutch Embassador's, after dinner they drank, and were pretty merry; and, among the rest of the King's company, there was that worthy fellow my Lord of Rochester (21), and Tom Killigrew (57), whose mirth and raillery offended the former so much, that he did give Tom Killigrew (57) a box on the ear in the King's presence, which do much give offence to the people here at Court, to see how cheap the King (38) makes himself, and the more, for that the King (38) hath not only passed by the thing, and pardoned it to Rochester already, but this very morning the King (38) did publickly walk up and down, and Rochester I saw with him as free as ever, to the King's everlasting shame, to have so idle a rogue his companion. How Tom Killigrew (57) takes it, I do not hear. I do also this day hear that my Lord Privy Seale do accept to go Lieutenant into Ireland; but whether it be true or no, I cannot tell. So calling at my shoemaker's, and paying him to this day, I home to dinner, and in the afternoon to Colonel Middleton's house, to the burial of his wife, where we are all invited, and much more company, and had each of us a ring: and so towards evening to our church, where there was a sermon preached by Mills, and so home. At church there was my Lord Brouncker (49) and Mrs. Williams in our pew, the first time they were ever there or that I knew that either of them would go to church. At home comes Castle to me, to desire me to go to Mr. Pedly, this night, he being to go out of town to-morrow morning, which I, therefore, did, by Hackney-coach, first going to White Hall to meet with Sir W. Coventry (41), but missed him. But here I had a pleasant rencontre of a lady in mourning, that, by the little light I had, seemed handsome. I passing by her, I did observe she looked back again and again upon me, I suffering her to go before, and it being now duske. I observed she went into the little passage towards the Privy Water-Gate, and I followed, but missed her; but coming back again, I observed she returned, and went to go out of the Court. I followed her, and took occasion, in the new passage now built, where the walke is to be, to take her by the hand, to lead her through, which she willingly accepted, and I led her to the Great Gate, and there left her, she telling me, of her own accord, that she was going as far as, Charing Cross; but my boy was at the gate, and so je durst not go out con her, which vexed me, and my mind (God forgive me) did run apres her toute that night, though I have reason to thank God, and so I do now, that I was not tempted to go further.
So to Lincoln's Inn, where to Mr. Pedly, with whom I spoke, and did my business presently: and I find him a man of very good language, and mighty civil, and I believe very upright: and so home, where W. Batelier was, and supped with us, and I did reckon this night what I owed him; and I do find that the things my wife, of her own head, hath taken (together with my own, which comes not to above £5), comes to above £22. But it is the last, and so I am the better contented; and they are things that are not trifles, but clothes, gloves, shoes, hoods, &c. So after supper, to bed.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 05 April 1669. 05 Apr 1669. Up, and by coach, it being very cold, to White Hall, expecting a meeting of Tangier, but it did not. But, however, did wait there all the morning, and, among other things, I spent a little time with Creed walking in the garden, and talking about our Office, and Child's coming in to be a Commissioner; and, being his friend, I did think he might do me a kindness to learn of him what the Duke of Buckingham (41) and the faction do design touching me, and to instil good words concerning me, which he says, and I believe he will: and it is but necessary; for I have not a mind indeed at this time to be put out of my Office, if I can make any shift that is honourable to keep it; but I will not do it by deserting the Duke of York (35).
At noon by appointment comes Mr. Sheres, and he and I to Unthanke's, where my wife stays for us in our coach, and Betty Turner (16) with her; and we to the Mulberry Garden, where Sheres is to treat us with a Spanish Olio1, by a cook of his acquaintance that is there, that was with my Lord in Spain: and without any other company, he did do it, and mighty nobly; and the Olio was indeed a very noble dish, such as I never saw better, or any more of. This, and the discourse he did give us of Spain, and description of the Escuriall, was a fine treat. So we left other good things, that would keep till night, for a collation; and, with much content, took coach again, and went five or six miles towards Branford, the Prince of Tuscany (26), who comes into England only to spend money and see our country, comes into the town to-day, and is much expected; and we met him, but the coach passing by apace, we could not see much of him but he seems a very jolly and good comely man. By the way, we overtook Captain Ferrers upon his fine Spanish horse, and he is a fine horse indeed; but not so good, I think, as I have seen some. He did ride by us most of the way, and with us to the Park, and there left us, where we passed the evening, and meeting The. Turner (17), Talbot, W. Batelier, and his sister, in a coach, we anon took them with us to the Mulberry Garden; and there, after a walk, to supper upon what was left at noon; and very good; only Mr. Sheres being taken suddenly ill for a while, did spoil our mirth; but by and by was well again, and we mighty merry: and so broke up, and left him at Charing Cross, and so calling only at my cozen Turner's, away home, mightily pleased with the day's work, and this day come another new mayd, for a middle mayd, but her name I know not yet; and, for a cookmaid, we have, ever since Bridget went, used a blackmoore of Mr. Batelier's, Doll, who dresses our meat mighty well, and we mightily pleased with her. So by and by to bed.
1. An olio is a mixed dish of meat and vegetables, and, secondarily, mixture or medley.
Chequer Inn, Charing Cross, Westminster
Diary of Samuel Pepys 02 February 1660. 02 Feb 1660. Thursday. Drank at Harper's with Doling, and so to my office, where I found all the officers of the regiments in town, waiting to receive money that their soldiers might go out of town, and what was in the Exchequer they had. At noon after dining at home I called at Harper's for Doling, and he and I met with Luellin and drank with him at the Exchequer at Charing Cross, and thence he and I went to the Temple to Mr. Calthrop's (36) chamber, and from thence had his man by water to London Bridge to Mr. Calthrop, a grocer, and received £60 for my Lord. In our way we talked with our waterman, White, who told us how the watermen had lately been abused by some that had a desire to get in to be watermen to the State, and had lately presented an address of nine or ten thousand hands to stand by this Parliament, when it was only told them that it was to a petition against hackney coaches; and that to-day they had put out another to undeceive the world and to clear themselves, and that among the rest Cropp, my waterman and one of great practice, was one that did cheat them thus. After I had received the money we went to the Bridge Tavern and drank a quart of wine and so back by water, landing Mr. Calthrop's man at the Temple and we went homewards, but over against Somerset House, hearing the noise of guns, we landed and found the Strand full of soldiers. So I took my money and went to Mrs. Johnson, my Lord's sempstress, and giving her my money to lay up, Doling and I went up stairs to a window, and looked out and see the foot face the horse and beat them back, and stood bawling and calling in the street for a free Parliament and money. By and by a drum was heard to beat a march coming towards them, and they got all ready again and faced them, and they proved to be of the same mind with them; and so they made a great deal of joy to see one another. After all this, I took my money, and went home on foot and laying up my money, and changing my stockings and shoes, I this day having left off my great skirt suit, and put on my white suit with silver lace coat, and went over to Harper's, where I met with W. Simons, Doling, Luellin and three merchants, one of which had occasion to use a porter, so they sent for one, and James the soldier came, who told us how they had been all day and night upon their guard at St. James's, and that through the whole town they did resolve to stand to what they had began, and that to-morrow he did believe they would go into the City, and be received there. After all this we went to a sport called, selling of a horse for a dish of eggs and herrings, and sat talking there till almost twelve o'clock and then parted, they were to go as far as Aldgate. Home and to bed.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 05 February 1660. 05 Feb 1660. Sunday. Lord's day. In the morning before church time Mr. Hawly, who had for this day or two looked something sadly, which methinks did speak something in his breast concerning me, came to me telling me that he was out £24 which he could not tell what was become of, and that he do remember that he had such a sum in a bag the other day, and could not tell what he did with it, at which I was very sorry but could not help him. In the morning to Mr. Gunning (46), where a stranger, an old man, preached a good honest sermon upon "What manner of love is this that we should be called the sons of God". After sermon I could not find my wife, who promised to be at the gate against my coming out, and waited there a great while; then went to my house and finding her gone I returned and called at the Chequers, thinking to dine at the ordinary with Mr. Chetwind and Mr. Thomas, but they not being there I went to my father (59) and found her there, and there I dined. To their church in the afternoon, and in Mrs. Turner's (37) pew my wife took up a good black hood and kept it. A stranger preached a poor sermon, and so read over the whole book of the story of Tobit.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 11 February 1660. 11 Feb 1660. Saturday. This morning I lay long abed, and then to my office, where I read all the morning my Spanish book of Rome. At noon I walked in the Hall, where I heard the news of a letter from Monk (51), who was now gone into the City again, and did resolve to stand for the sudden filling up of the House, and it was very strange how the countenance of men in the Hall was all changed with joy in half an hour's time. So I went up to the lobby, where I saw the Speaker (68) reading of the letter; and after it was read, Sir A. Haselrigge (59) came out very angry, and Billing (37) standing at the door, took him by the arm, and cried, "Thou man, will thy beast carry thee no longer? thou must fall!" The House presently after rose, and appointed to meet again at three o'clock. I went then down into the Hall, where I met with Mr. Chetwind, who had not dined no more than myself, and so we went toward London, in our way calling at two or three shops, but could have no dinner. At last, within Temple Bar, we found a pullet ready roasted, and there we dined. After that he went to his office in Chancery Lane, calling at the Rolls, where I saw the lawyers pleading. Then to his office, where I sat in his study singing, while he was with his man (Mr. Powell's son) looking after his business. Thence we took coach for the City to Guildhall, where the Hall was full of people expecting Monk (51) and Lord Mayor (27) to come thither, and all very joyfull. Here we stayed a great while, and at last meeting with a friend of his we went to the 3 Tun tavern and drank half a pint of wine, and not liking the wine we went to an alehouse, where we met with company of this third man's acquaintance, and there we drank a little. Hence I went alone to Guildhall to see whether Monk (51) was come again or no, and met with him coming out of the chamber where he had been with the Mayor and Aldermen, but such a shout I never heard in all my life, crying out, "God bless your Excellence". Here I met with Mr. Lock, and took him to an alehouse, and left him there to fetch Chetwind; when we were come together, Lock told us the substance of the letter that went from Monk (51) to the Parliament; wherein, after complaints that he and his officers were put upon such offices against the City as they could not do with any content or honour, that there are many members now in the House that were of the late tyrannical Committee of Safety. That Lambert (40) and Vane (46) are now in town, contrary to the vote of Parliament. That there were many in the House that do press for new oaths to be put upon men; whereas we have more cause to be sorry for the many oaths that we have already taken and broken. That the late petition of the fanatique people presented by Barebone (62), for the imposing of an oath upon all sorts of people, was received by the House with thanks. That therefore he do desire that all writs for filling up of the House be issued by Friday next, and that in the mean time, he would retire into the City and only leave them guards for the security of the House and Council. The occasion of this was the order that he had last night to go into the City and disarm them, and take away their charter; whereby he and his officers say that the House had a mind to put them upon things that should make them odious; and so it would be in their power to do what they would with them. He told us that they [the Parliament] had sent Scott and Robinson to him (51) this afternoon, but he would not hear them. And that the Mayor and Aldermen had offered him their own houses for himself and his officers; and that his soldiers would lack for nothing. And indeed I saw many people give the soldiers drink and money, and all along in the streets cried, "God bless them!" and extraordinary good words. Hence we went to a merchant's house hard by, where Lock wrote a note and left, where I saw Sir Nich. Crisp (61), and so we went to the Star Tavern (Monk (51) being then at Benson's), where we dined and I wrote a letter to my Lord from thence. In Cheapside there was a great many bonfires, and Bow bells and all the bells in all the churches as we went home were a-ringing. Hence we went homewards, it being about ten o'clock. But the common joy that was every where to be seen! The number of bonfires, there being fourteen between St. Dunstan's and Temple Bar, and at Strand Bridge' I could at one view tell thirty-one fires. In King-street seven or eight; and all along burning, and roasting, and drinking for rumps. There being rumps tied upon sticks and carried up and down. The butchers at the May Pole in the Strand rang a peal with their knives when they were going to sacrifice their rump. On Ludgate Hill there was one turning of the spit that had a rump tied upon it, and another basting of it. Indeed it was past imagination, both the greatness and the suddenness of it. At one end of the street you would think there was a whole lane of fire, and so hot that we were fain to keep still on the further side merely for heat. We came to the Chequers at Charing Cross, where Chetwind wrote a letter and I gave him an account of what I had wrote for him to write. Thence home and sent my letters to the posthouse in London, and my wife and I (after Mr. Hunt was gone, whom I found waiting at my house) went out again to show her the fires, and after walking as far as the Exchange we returned and to bed.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 01 May 1663. 01 May 1663. Up betimes and my father with me, and he and I all the morning and Will Stankes private, in my wife's closet above, settling our matters concerning our Brampton estate, &c., and I find that there will be, after all debts paid within £100, £50 per annum clear coming towards my father's maintenance, besides £25 per annum annuities to my Uncle Thomas and Aunt Perkins. Of which, though I was in my mind glad, yet thought it not fit to let my father know it thoroughly, but after he had gone out to visit my uncle Thomas and brought him to dinner with him, and after dinner I got my father, brother Tom (29), and myself together, I did make the business worse to them, and did promise £20 out of my own purse to make it £50 a year to my father, propounding that Stortlow may be sold to pay £200 for his satisfaction therein and the rest to go towards payment of debts and legacies. The truth is I am fearful lest my father should die before debts are paid, and then the land goes to Tom and the burden of paying all debts will fall upon the rest of the land. Not that I would do my brother any real hurt. I advised my father to good husbandry and to living within the compass of £50 a year, and all in such kind words, as not only made, them but myself to weep, and I hope it will have a good effect.
That being done, and all things agreed on, we went down, and after a glass of wine we all took horse, and I, upon a horse hired of Mr. Game, saw him out of London, at the end of Bishopsgate Street, and so I turned and rode, with some trouble, through the fields, and then Holborn, &c., towards Hide Park, whither all the world, I think, are going, and in my going, almost thither, met W. Howe coming galloping upon a little crop black nag; it seems one that was taken in some ground of my Lord's, by some mischance being left by his master, a thief; this horse being found with black cloth ears on, and a false mayne, having none of his own; and I back again with him to the Chequer, at Charing Cross, and there put up my own dull jade, and by his advice saddled a delicate stone-horse of Captain Ferrers's, and with that rid in state to the Park, where none better mounted than I almost, but being in a throng of horses, seeing the King's riders showing tricks with their managed horses, which were very strange, my stone-horse was very troublesome, and begun to, fight with other horses, to the dangering him and myself, and with much ado I got out, and kept myself out of harm's way. Here I saw nothing good, neither the King (32), nor my Baroness Castlemaine's (22), nor any great ladies or beauties being there, there being more pleasure a great deal at an ordinary day; or else those few good faces that there were choked up with the many bad ones, there being people of all sorts in coaches there, to some thousands, I think. Going thither in the highway, just by the Park gate, I met a boy in a sculler boat, carried by a dozen people at least, rowing as hard as he could drive, it seems upon some wager.
By and by, about seven or eight o'clock, homeward; and changing my horse again, I rode home, coaches going in great crowds to the further end of the town almost. In my way, in Leadenhall Street, there was morris-dancing which I have not seen a great while. So set my horse up at Game's, paying 5s. for him.
And so home to see Sir J. Minnes (64), who is well again, and after staying talking with him awhile, I took leave and went to hear Mrs. Turner's (40) daughter, at whose house Sir J. Minnes (64) lies, play on the harpsicon; but, Lord! it was enough to make any man sick to hear her; yet I was forced to commend her highly.
So home to supper and to bed, Ashwell playing upon the tryangle very well before I went to bed. This day Captain Grove sent me a side of pork, which was the oddest present, sure, that was ever made any man; and the next, I remember I told my wife, I believe would be a pound of candles, or a shoulder of mutton; but the fellow do it in kindness, and is one I am beholden to.
So to bed very weary, and a little galled for lack of riding, praying to God for a good journey to my father, of whom I am afeard, he being so lately ill of his pain.
Charing Cross Stairs, Westminster
Diary of Samuel Pepys 28 January 1660. 28 Jan 1660. Saturday. I went to Mr Downing (35) and carried him three characters, and then to my office and wrote another, while Mr. Frost staid telling money. And after I had done it Mr. Hawly came into the office and I left him and carried it to Mr Downing (35), who then told me that he was resolved to be gone for Holland this morning. So I to my office again, and dispatch my business there, and came with Mr. Hawly to Mr Downing's (35) lodging, and took Mr. Squib from White Hall in a coach thither with me, and there we waited in his chamber a great while, till he came in; and in the mean time, sent all his things to the barge that lay at Charing-Cross Stairs. Then came he in, and took a very civil leave of me, beyond my expectation, for I was afraid that he would have told me something of removing me from my office; but he did not, but that he would do me any service that lay in his power. So I went down and sent a porter to my house for my best fur cap, but he coming too late with it I did not present it to him. Thence I went to Westminster Hall, and bound up my cap at Mrs. Michell's, who was much taken with my cap, and endeavoured to overtake the coach at the Exchange and to give it him there, but I met with one that told me that he was gone, and so I returned and went to Heaven1, where Luellin and I dined on a breast of mutton all alone, discoursing of the changes that we have seen and the happiness of them that have estates of their own, and so parted, and I went by appointment to my office and paid young Mr. Walton £500; it being very dark he took £300 by content. He gave me half a piece and carried me in his coach to St. Clement's, from whence I went to Mr. Crew's (62) and made even with Mr. Andrews, and took in all my notes and gave him one for all. Then to my Lady Wright and gave her Lord's (34) letter which he bade me give her privately. So home and then to Will's for a little news, then came home again and wrote to Lord, and so to Whitehall and gave them to the post-boy. Back again home and to bed.
1. A place of entertainment within or adjoining Westminster Hall. It is called in "Hudibras", "False Heaven, at the end of the Hall". There were two other alehouses near Westminster Hall, called Hell and Purgatory. "Nor break his fast In Heaven and Hell". Ben Jonson's Alchemist, act V. SC. 2.
Goat Tavern, Charing Cross, Westminster
Diary of Samuel Pepys 01 April 1661. 01 Apr 1661. This day my waiting at the Privy Seal comes in again. Up early among my workmen. So to the once, and went home to dinner with Sir W. Batten (60), and after that to the Goat Tavern by Charing Cross to meet Dr. Castle, where he and I drank a pint of wine and talked about Privy Seal business.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 14 April 1661. 14 Apr 1661. Then hearing that Mr. Barnwell was come, with some of my Lord's little children, yesterday to town, to see the Coronacion, I went and found them at the Goat, at Charing Cross, and there I went and drank with them a good while, whom I found in very good health and very merry.
Long Acre, Charing Cross, Westminster
Wriothesley's Chronicle Edward VI 5th Year 1551-1552. 01 Dec 1551. The first daye of December, beinge Tuesday, the Duke of Somersett (51) was had from the Tower of London by water and shott London bridge at v of the clocke in the morninge, and so went to Westminster, where was made ready a great scaffold in Westminster Hall, and there the sayd Duke appeared, afore the Lordes and Peeres of the Realme, the Lord William Pawlet (68), Marques of Winchester and Lord High Treasurer of England, that daye sittinge under the cloath of estate as High Stuard of England; the indytement of the sayd duke beinge read, he was imedyately arraigned on the same for felony and treason, and after tryed by his peeres the nobles there presenta, which did quitt him of the treason but found him guilty of the felonyb, whereupon after their verdite giuen he had iudgment giuen to be had [thence to] the place [he came from] and from thence to the place of execution, there to be hanged till he were dead; but the people in the hall, supposinge that he had bene clerely quitt, when they see the axe of the Tower put downe, made such a shryke and castinge up of caps, that it was hard into the Longe Acre beyonde Charinge Crosse, and allso made the Lordes astonyed, and word likewise sent to London, which the people reioysed at; and about v of the clocke at night the sayd Duke landed at the Crane in the Vintre, and so [was] had thorough Can[dle]wyke Streete to the Tower, the people cryinge God saue him all the way as he wentj thinkinge that he had clerely bene quitt, but they were deceyued, but hoopinge he should haue the Kinges pardon.
Note a. His judges were Northumberland (47), Northampton (39), Pembroke (50), and the other leading members of the government, — the very parties against whom he was said to have conspired, — and the witnesses against him were not produced, bnt only their written depositions read, as was frequently the custom in those days.
Note b. For having designed the killing of the Duke of Northumberland (47) and the others, although on consideration he had determined to abandon it; "yet," adds Edward VI. in his Journal, "he seemed to confess he went about their death."
Diary of Henry Machyn December 1556. 06 Dec 1556. [The vj day of December the abbot of Westminster (41) went a procession with his convent; before him went all the] santuary men with crosse keys apon [their garments, and] after whent iij for murder; on was the lord Dacres (59) sone of the Northe was wypyd with a shett a-bowt [him, for] kyllyng of on master West sqwyre dwellyng be-syd .... ; and anodur theyff that dyd long to one of master comtroller .... dyd kylle Recherd Eggyllston the comtroller('s) tayller, and k[illed him in] the Long Acurs, the bak-syd Charyng-crosse; and a boy [that] kyld a byge boye that sold papers and pryntyd bokes [with] horlyng of a stone and yt hym under the ere in Westmynster Hall; the boy was one of the chylderyn that was [at the] sckoll ther in the abbey; the boy ys a hossear sune a-boyff London-stone.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 17 February 1664. 17 Feb 1664. Up, and with my wife, setting her down by her father's in Long Acre, in so ill looked a place, among all the whore houses, that I was troubled at it, to see her go thither.
Thence I to White Hall and there walked up and down talking with Mr. Pierce, who tells me of the King's giving of my Lord Fitz-Harding (34) two leases which belong indeed to the Queene (54), worth £20,000 to him; and how people do talk of it, and other things of that nature which I am sorry to hear. He and I walked round the Park with great pleasure, and back again, and finding no time to speak with my Lord of Albemarle (55), I walked to the 'Change and there met my wife at our pretty Doll's, and so took her home, and Creed also whom I met there, and sent her hose, while Creed and I staid on the 'Change, and by and by home and dined, where I found an excellent mastiffe, his name Towser, sent me by a chyrurgeon.
After dinner I took my wife again by coach (leaving Creed by the way going to Gresham College, of which he is now become one of the virtuosos) and to White Hall, where I delivered a paper about Tangier to my Lord Duke of Albemarle (55) in the council chamber, and so to Mrs. Hunt's to call my wife, and so by coach straight home, and at my office till 3 o'clock in the morning, having spent much time this evening in discourse with Mr. Cutler, who tells me how the Dutch deal with us abroad and do not value us any where, and how he and Sir W. Rider have found reason to lay aside Captain Cocke (47) in their company, he having played some indiscreet and unfair tricks with them, and has lost himself every where by his imposing upon all the world with the conceit he has of his own wit, and so has, he tells me, Sir R. Ford (50) also, both of whom are very witty men.
He being gone Sir W. Rider came and staid with me till about 12 at night, having found ourselves work till that time, about understanding the measuring of Mr. Wood's masts, which though I did so well before as to be thought to deal very hardly against Wood, yet I am ashamed I understand it no better, and do hope yet, whatever be thought of me, to save the King (33) some more money, and out of an impatience to breake up with my head full of confused confounded notions, but nothing brought to a clear comprehension, I was resolved to sit up and did till now it is ready to strike 4 o'clock, all alone, cold, and my candle not enough left to light me to my owne house, and so, with my business however brought to some good understanding, and set it down pretty clear, I went home to bed with my mind at good quiet, and the girl sitting up for me (the rest all a-bed). I eat and drank a little, and to bed, weary, sleepy, cold, and my head akeing.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 30 April 1669. 30 Apr 1669. Up, and by coach to the coachmaker's: and there I do find a great many ladies sitting in the body of a coach that must be ended by to-morrow: they were my Lady Marquess of Winchester, Bellassis, and other great ladies; eating of bread and butter, and drinking ale. I to my coach, which is silvered over, but no varnish yet laid on, so I put it in a way of doing; and myself about other business, and particularly to see Sir W. Coventry (41), with whom I talked a good while to my great content; and so to other places-among others, to my tailor's: and then to the belt-maker's, where my belt cost me 55s., of the colour of my new suit; and here, understanding that the mistress of the house, an oldish woman in a hat hath some water good for the eyes, she did dress me, making my eyes smart most horribly, and did give me a little glass of it, which I will use, and hope it will do me good.
So to the Mr. Cutler's, and there did give Tom, who was with me all day a sword cost me 12s. and a belt of my owne; and set my own silver-hilt sword a-gilding against to-morrow. This morning I did visit Mr. Oldenburgh, and did see the instrument for perspective made by Dr. Wren (45), of which I have one making by Browne; and the sight of this do please me mightily.
At noon my wife come to me at my tailor's, and I sent her home and myself and Tom dined at Hercules' Pillars; and so about our business again, and particularly to Lilly's (50), the varnisher about my prints, whereof some of them are pasted upon the boards, and to my full content.
Thence to the frame-maker's one Morris, in Long Acre, who shewed me several forms of frames to choose by, which was pretty, in little bits of mouldings, to choose by. This done, I to my coach-maker's, and there vexed to see nothing yet done to my coach, at three in the afternoon; but I set it in doing, and stood by it till eight at night, and saw the painter varnish which is pretty to see how every doing it over do make it more and more yellow; and it dries as fast in the sun as it can be laid on almost; and most coaches are, now-a-days done so, and it is very pretty when laid on well, and not pale, as some are, even to shew the silver. Here I did make the workmen drink, and saw my coach cleaned and oyled; and, staying among poor people there in the alley, did hear them call their fat child Punch, which pleased me mightily that word being become a word of common use for all that is thick and short. At night home, and there find my wife hath been making herself clean against to-morrow; and, late as it was, I did send my coachman and horses to fetch home the coach to-night, and so we to supper, myself most weary with walking and standing so much, to see all things fine against to-morrow, and so to bed. God give a blessing to it! Meeting with Mr. Sheres, he went with me up and down to several places, and, among others, to buy a perriwig, but I bought none; and also to Dancre's (44), where he was about my picture of Windsor, which is mighty pretty, and so will the prospect of Rome be.
On 19 May 1676 John Greenhill Painter 1644-1676 (32) died. He had been returning home somewhat less than sober from an evening in the Vine Tavern when he fell into a ditch in Long Acre. He was carried to his lodgings in Lincoln's Inn Fields but didn't recover. He was buried in St Giles in the Fields.
Northumberland House, Charing Cross, Westminster
Around 1763. Canaletto Painter 1697-1768 (65). Northumberland House looking towards Strand. Note the Percy Lion; crest of the Duke Northumberland. And the statue of King Charles I of England, Scotland and Ireland 1600-1649 which remains in situ on the corner of what is now the south-east corner of Trafalgar Square.
Locket's Tavern, Charing Cross, Westminster
Roger Whitley's Diary 1690 January. 04 Jan 1690. Satorday, went to Parliment; dined at Prior's Winehouse with 2 Mainwarings, Dousdale & Burrage; Bromley came to us before & after dinner; I left them together, went to Committe; called at the Rummer Tavern (neare Lockets) at my retorne for Roger, he went home with me; stayd neare an houer &c; I stayd at home all night.
Rummer Tavern, Charing Cross, Westminster
Roger Whitley's Diary 1690 January. 04 Jan 1690. Satorday, went to Parliment; dined at Prior's Winehouse with 2 Mainwarings, Dousdale & Burrage; Bromley came to us before & after dinner; I left them together, went to Committe; called at the Rummer Tavern (neare Lockets) at my retorne for Roger, he went home with me; stayd neare an houer &c; I stayd at home all night.
Roger Whitley's Diary 1690 January. 08 Jan 1690. Wednesday, went to Parliment dined at Prior's Winehouse with 2 Mainwarings, Andrews, Hussey &c; went to the Committe; called on Roger at the Rummer Tavern, parted past 9.
Roger Whitley's Diary 1690 September. 08 Sep 1690. Monday, I, sonne (39), Bidolph, Mainwaring, daughters, sisters, &c. went to Chester, dined at Jacksons; there Danold trimmed me; the yonger Wilbraham came to me about his fathers money; Gleg came after dinner, stayd not long; I & Bidolph went to Angells; I went thence to G.Mainwaring's (47) saw Mr Bartley; thence I went to the almeshouses; there was Crosse, Mercer, Rummer Tavern, Morris, Pack, Cotton, Jones, 2 Bostocks, 3 Bricklayers; I gave them a dosen of ale at the widdow's; Mr Browne came to us as we were parting; I & Mercer called on Anderson, dranck a tankerd of ale with him & his wife; went thence to Jacksons, met Taylor in the streete, took him with me, discoursed him awhile in the kitchen; also Wilbraham (who payed Crosse 10 li in part of rent) the Governor, Major, Bidolph, Mainwaring my sonne (39), Parry, Morgan,&c. were in the parlor & cosen Whitley (who dined with us); the Governor & Major went presently & we soone after; retorned to Peele about 8.
Roger Whitley's Diary 1690 September. 24 Sep 1690. Wednesday, Mainwaring & I went to Chester (Robinson with us, & soe home) we alighted at Jacksons; went to G.Mainwaring's (47) Farington with us; then G.Mainwaring (47) & I went to the Penthouse; Mainwaring came after us; there we found the Mayor, Ince, Anderson, Edwards, Randle Batho, & the officers; I discoursed them about the Election of a new Mayor; & how inconvenient it would be to choose me, &c. then I went with Streete (who came to the Penthouse) to Angells; then to the Sunne; there we dined with 2 Mainwarings, 2 Andersons, Farington, Baroby, Comberbach, Kinaston, Deane, Murray, Randle Batho, &c. after dinner came Hannibal Baskerville 1597-1668 (93), Crosse, &c. then Streete & I went to the almeshouses, Mercer with us; Cotton, Rummer Tavern & Thomas had 3 quarts of ale; then went to Jacksons; there was 2 Mainwarings, Baroby, Hannibal Baskerville 1597-1668 (93), Herle, Cockaine, &c. we parted past 7, came home before 9.
The locality of Rummer Tavern is given by Cunningham, as "two doors from Locket's, between Whitehall and Charing Cross, removed to the water-side of Charing Cross, in 1710, and burnt down 07 Nov 1750". It was kept in the reign of Charles II by Samuel Prior, uncle of Matthew Prior, the poet, who thus wrote to Fleetwood Shephard:
My uncle, rest his soul ! when living,
Might have contriv'd me ways of thriving:
Taught me with cider to replenish
My vats, or ebbing tide of Rhenish.
So when for hock I drew prick t white- wine,
Swear't had the flavour, and was right wine.
Rummer and Grapes, Channel Row, Westminster, the meeting place of Lodge No. 4 from 1717 to 1723.
Spring Gardens, Charing Cross, Westminster
St Martin's Lane, Charing Cross, Westminster
In 1610 Robert Cecil 1st Earl Salisbury 1563-1612 (46) developed St Martin's Lane when he was granted five acres of its west side. It was originally called West Church Lane. Its name was changed in 1618.
On 03 Jan 1631 Edward Conway 1st Viscount Conway 1564-1631 (67) died in St Martin's Lane. His son Edward Conway 2nd Viscount Conway 1594-1655 (36) succeeded 2nd Viscount Conway. Frances Popham Viscountess Conway 1597-1671 (34) by marriage Viscountess Conway. Wall. Monument in Church of the Holy Trinity Arrow.
John Evelyn's Diary 14 May 1662. 14 May 1662. To London, being chosen one of the Commissioners for reforming the buildings, ways, streets, and incumbrances, and regulating the hackney coaches in the city of London, taking my oath before my Lord Chancellor (53), and then went to his Majesty's (31) Surveyor's office, in Scotland Yard, about naming and establishing officers, adjourning till the 16th, when I went to view how St Martin's Lane might be made more passable into the Strand. There were divers gentlemen of quality in this commission.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 11 July 1665. 11 Jul 1665. And so all night down by water, a most pleasant passage, and come thither by two o'clock, and so walked from the Old Swan home, and there to bed to my Will, being very weary, and he lodging at my desire in my house.
At 6 o'clock up and to Westminster (where and all the towne besides, I hear, the plague encreases), and, it being too soon to go to the Duke of Albemarle (56), I to the Harp and Ball, and there made a bargain with Mary to go forth with me in the afternoon, which she with much ado consented to.
So I to the Duke of Albemarle's (56), and there with much ado did get his consent in part to my having the money promised for Tangier, and the other part did not concur. So being displeased with this, I back to the office and there sat alone a while doing business, and then by a solemn invitation to the Trinity House, where a great dinner and company, Captain Dobbin's feast for Elder Brother. But I broke up before the dinner half over and by water to the Harp and Ball, and thence had Mary meet me at the New Exchange, and there took coach and I with great pleasure took the ayre to Highgate, and thence to Hampstead, much pleased with her company, pretty and innocent, and had what pleasure almost I would with her, and so at night, weary and sweaty, it being very hot beyond bearing, we back again, and I set her down in St. Martin's Lane, and so I to the evening 'Change, and there hear all the towne full that Ostend is delivered to us, and that Alderman Backewell (47)1 did go with £50,000 to that purpose. But the truth of it I do not know, but something I believe there is extraordinary in his going.
So to the office, where I did what I could as to letters, and so away to bed, shifting myself, and taking some Venice treakle, feeling myself out of order, and thence to bed to sleep.
1. Among the State Papers is a letter from the King (35) to the Lord General (dated August 8th, 1665): "Alderman Backwell (47) being in great straits for the second payment he has to make for the service in Flanders, as much tin is to be transmitted to him as will raise the sum. Has authorized him and Sir George Carteret (55) to treat with the tin farmers for 500 tons of tin to be speedily transported under good convoy; but if, on consulting with Alderman Backwell (47), this plan of the tin seems insufficient, then without further difficulty he is to dispose for that purpose of the £10,000 assigned for pay of the Guards, not doubting that before that comes due, other ways will be found for supplying it; the payment in Flanders is of such importance that some means must be found of providing for it" (Calendar, Domestic, 1664-65, pp. 508, 509).
Suffolk Street, Charing Cross, Westminster
Diary of Samuel Pepys 14 January 1668. 14 Jan 1668. At the office all the morning, and at noon home to dinner, and after dinner with Mr. Clerke (45) and Gibson to the Temple (my wife and girle going further by coach), and there at the Auditor's did begin the examining my Tangier accounts, and did make a great entry into it and with great satisfaction, and I am glad I am so far eased. So appointing another day for further part of my accounts, I with Gibson to my bookseller, Martin, and there did receive my book I expected of China, a most excellent book with rare cuts; and there fell into discourse with him about the burning of Paul's when the City was burned; his house being in the church-yard. And he tells me that it took fire first upon the end of a board that, among others, was laid upon the roof instead of lead, the lead being broke off, and thence down lower and lower: but that the burning of the goods under St. Fayth's arose from the goods taking fire in the church-yard, and so got into St. Fayth's Church; and that they first took fire from the Draper's side, by some timber of the houses that were burned falling into the church. He says that one Warehouse of books was saved under Paul's; and he says that there were several dogs found burned among the goods in the church-yard, and but one man, which was an old man, that said he would go and save a blanket which he had in the church, and, being a weak old man, the fire overcome him, and was burned. He says that most of the booksellers do design to fall a-building again the next year; but he says that the Bishop of London do use them most basely, worse than any other landlords, and says he will be paid to this day the rent, or else he will not come to treat with them for the time to come; and will not, on that condition either, promise them any thing how he will use them; and, the Parliament sitting, he claims his privilege, and will not be cited before the Lord Chief justice, as others are there, to be forced to a fair dealing.
Thence by coach to Mrs. Pierce's, where my wife and Deb. is; and there they fell to discourse of the last night's work at Court, where the ladies and Duke of Monmouth (18) and others acted "The Indian Emperour"; wherein they told me these things most remark able: that not any woman but the Duchesse of Monmouth (16) and Mrs. Cornwallis (18) did any thing but like fools and stocks, but that these two did do most extraordinary well: that not any man did any thing well but Captain O'Bryan, who spoke and did well, but, above all things, did dance most incomparably. That she did sit near the players of the Duke's house; among the rest, Mis Davis (20), who is the most impertinent slut, she says, in the world; and the more, now the King (37) do show her countenance; and is reckoned his mistress, even to the scorne of the whole world; the King (37) gazing on her, and my Baroness Castlemayne (27) being melancholy and out of humour, all the play, not smiling once. The King (37), it seems, hath given her a ring of £700, which she shews to every body, and owns that the King (37) did give it her; and he hath furnished a house for her in Suffolke Street most richly, which is a most infinite shame. It seems she is a bastard of Colonell Howard, my Lord Berkshire (80), and that he do pimp to her for the King (37), and hath got her for him; but Pierce says that she is a most homely jade as ever she saw, though she dances beyond any thing in the world. She tells me that the Duchesse of Richmond (20) do not yet come to the Court, nor hath seen the King (37), nor will not, nor do he own his desire of seeing her; but hath used means to get her to Court, but they do not take.
Thence home, and there I to my chamber, having a great many books brought me home from my bookbinder's, and so I to the new setting of my books against the next year, which costs me more trouble than I expected, and at it till two o'clock in the morning, and then to bed, the business not being yet done to my mind. This evening come Mr. Mills and his wife to see and sit and talk with us, which they did till 9 o'clock at night, and then parted, and I to my books.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 07 March 1669. 07 Mar 1669. Lord's Day. Up, and to the office, busy till church time, and then to church, where a dull sermon, and so home to dinner, all alone with my wife, and then to even my Journall to this day, and then to the Tower, to see Sir W. Coventry (41), who had H. Jermin (33) and a great many more with him, and more, while I was there, come in; so that I do hear that there was not less than sixty coaches there yesterday, and the other day; which I hear also that there is a great exception taken at, by the King (38) and the Duke of Buckingham (41), but it cannot be helped.
Thence home, and with our coach out to Suffolk Street, to see my cozen Pepys, but neither the old nor young at home.
So to my cozen Turner's, and there staid talking a little, and then back to Suffolk Street, where they not being yet come home I to White Hall, and there hear that there are letters come from Sir Thomas Allen (36), that he hath made some kind of peace with Algiers; upon which the King (38) and Duke of York (35), being to go out of town to-morrow, are met at my Lord Arlington's (51): so I there, and by Mr. Wren (40) was desired to stay to see if there were occasion for their speaking with me, which I did, walking without, with Charles Porter (37)1, talking of a great many things: and I perceive all the world is against the Duke of Buckingham (41) his acting thus high, and do prophesy nothing but ruin from it: But he do well observe that the church lands cannot certainly come to much, if the King (38) shall [be] persuaded to take them; they being leased out for long leases.
By and by, after two hours' stay, they rose, having, as Wren tells me, resolved upon sending six ships to the Streights forthwith, not being contented with the peace upon the terms they demand, which are, that all our ships, where any Turks or Moores shall be found slaves, shall be prizes; which will imply that they, must be searched. I hear that to-morrow the King (38) and the Duke of York (35) set out for Newmarket, by three in the morning; to some foot and horse-races, to be abroad ten or twelve days: So I away, without seeing the Duke of York (35); but Mr. Wren (40) showed me the Order of Council about the balancing the Storekeeper's accounts, passed the Council in the very terms I drew it, only I did put in my name as he that presented the book of Hosier's preparing, and that is left out-I mean, my name-which is no great matter.
So to my wife to Suffolk Streete, where she was gone, and there I found them at supper, and eat a little with them, and so home, and there to bed, my cold pretty well gone.
1. Charles Porter (37) "was the son of a prebend in Norwich, and a 'prentice boy in the city in the rebellious times. When the committee house was blown up, he was very active in that rising, and after the soldiers came and dispersed the rout, he, as a rat among joint stools, shifted to and fro among the shambles, and had forty pistols shot at him by the troopers that rode after him to kill him 24th April, 1648. In that distress he had the presence of mind to catch up a little child that, during the rout, was frighted, and stood crying in the streets, and, unobserved by the troopers, ran away with it. The people opened a way for him, saying, 'Make room for the poor child.' Thus he got off, and while search was made for him in the market-place, got into the Yarmouth ferry, and at Yarmouth took ship and went to Holland.... In Holland he trailed a pike, and was in several actions as a common soldier. At length he kept a cavalier eating-house; but, his customers being needy, he soon broke, and came for England, and being a genteel youth, was taken in among the chancery clerks, and got to be under a master.... His industry was great; and he had an acquired dexterity and skill in the forms of the court; and although he was a bon companion, and followed much the bottle, yet he made such dispatches as satisfied his clients, especially the clerks, who knew where to find him. His person was florid, and speech prompt and articulate. But his vices, in the way of women and the bottle, were so ungoverned, as brought him to a morsel.... When the Lord Keeper North had the Seal, who from an early acquaintance had a kindness for him which was well known, and also that he was well heard, as they call it, business flowed in to him very fast, and yet he could scarce keep himself at liberty to follow his business.... At the Revolution, when his interest fell from, and his debts began to fall upon him, he was at his wits' end.... His character for fidelity, loyalty, and facetious conversation was without exception"-Roger North's Lives of the Norths (Lord Keeper Guilford), ed. Jessopp, vol. i., pp. 381-2. He was originally made Chancellor (60) of Ireland in the reign of James II, during the viceroyalty of Lord Clarendon, 1686, when he was knighted. "He was", says Burnet, "a man of ready wit, and being poor was thought a person fit to be made a tool of. When Clarendon was recalled, Porter was also displaced, and Fitton was made Chancellor (60), a man who knew no other law than the King's pleasure" ("Own Time"). Sir Charles Porter (37) was again made Chancellor of Ireland in 1690, and in this same year he acted as one of the Lords Justices. This note of Lord Braybrooke's is retained and added to, but the reference may after all be to another Charles Porter. See vol. iii., p. 122, and vol. vi., p. 98.
On 21 Dec 1670, owing to a jest made by Coventry (34) in the House of Commons on the subject of the King's amours, Sir Thomas Sandys, an officer of the guards, with other accomplices, by the order of Monmouth (21), and (it was said) with the approval of the king himself, waylaid him as he was returning home to Suffolk Street and slit his nose to the bone. The outrage created an extraordinary sensation in the Commons, and in consequence Parliament debated a bill ‘to prevent malicious maiming and wounding’ (22 & 23 Chas. II, c.1), a measure known as the "Coventry Act" was passed, declaring assaults accompanied by personal mutilation a felony without benefit of clergy, an Act not repealed until 1828.
Roger Whitley's Diary 1690 January. 06 Jan 1690. Monday, I dined at home with brother & daughters; in the evening Beversham came to see me; went in my coach to the end of Suffolk Streete; I went to Lord Macclesfeild (31); Thomson was with him; did not speake to me; went away; then Atwood came but stayd not; I stayd neare ½ houer; then went to Edisbury's lodging; his cosen, Sir John Wynne & another with him; I went then to Mr Halles of Lincolnes Inne; gave him my papers & 2 guineys; then went to the Nag's Head; there was Wood, Coling, Harris, Hales & 2 or 3 more & Mainwaring; parted past 9.
Suffolk House, Suffolk Street, Charing Cross, Westminster
On 03 Jun 1640 Theophilus Howard 2nd Earl Suffolk 1582-1640 (57) died at Suffolk House. He was buried at Walden Abbey. On 03 Jun 1640 His son James Howard 3rd Earl Suffolk 1619-1689 (21) succeeded 3rd Earl Suffolk 4C 1603, 3rd Baron Howard de Walden.
John Evelyn's Diary 31 August 1654. 31 Aug 1654. Through part of Huntingdonshire, we passed that town, fair and ancient, a river running by it. The country about it so abounds in wheat that, when any King of England passes through it, they have a custom to meet him with a hundred plows.
This evening, to Cambridge; and went first to St. John's College, well built of brick, and library, which I think is the fairest of that University. One Mr. Benlowes has given it all the ornaments of pietra commessa, whereof a table and one piece of perspective is very fine; other trifles there also be of no great value, besides a vast old song-book, or Service, and some fair manuscripts. There hangs in the library the picture of John Williams (72), Archbishop of York, sometime Lord Keeper, my kinsman, and their great benefactor.
Trinity College is said by some to be the fairest quadrangle of any university in Europe; but in truth is far inferior to that of Christ Church, in Oxford; the hall is ample and of stone, the fountain in the quadrangle is graceful, the chapel and library fair. There they showed us the prophetic manuscript of the famous Grebner, but the passage and emblem which they would apply to our late King, is manifestly relating to the Swedish; in truth, it seems to be a mere fantastic rhapsody, however the title may bespeak strange revelations. There is an office in manuscript with fine miniatures, and some other antiquities, given by the Countess of Richmond, mother of Henry VIII, and the before-mentioned Archbishop Williams (72), when Bishop of Lincoln. The library is pretty well stored. The Greek Professor had me into another large quadrangle cloistered and well built, and gave us a handsome collation in his own chamber.
Thence to Caius, and afterward to King's College, where I found the chapel altogether answered expectation, especially the roof, all of stone, which for the flatness of its laying and carving may, I conceive, vie with any in Christendom. The contignation of the roof (which I went upon), weight, and artificial joining of the stones is admirable. The lights are also very fair. In one aisle lies the famous Dr. Collins, so celebrated for his fluency in the Latin tongue. From this roof we could descry Ely, and the encampment of Sturbridge fair now beginning to set up their tents and booths; also Royston, Newmarket, etc., houses belonging to the King. The library is too narrow.
Clare-Hall is of a new and noble design, but not finished.
Peter-House, formerly under the government of my worthy friend, Dr. Joseph Cosin (59) [Note. Joseph appears to be a mistake for John?], Dean of Peterborough; a pretty neat college, having a delicate chapel. Next to Sidney, a fine college.
Catherine-Hall, though a mean structure, is yet famous for the learned Bishop Andrews (99), once Master. Emanuel College, that zealous house, where to the hall they have a parlor for the Fellows. The chapel is reformed, ab origine, built north and south, and meanly erected, as is the library.
Jesus College, one of the best built, but in a melancholy situation. Next to Christ-College, a very noble erection, especially the modern part, built without the quadrangle toward the gardens, of exact architecture.
The Schools are very despicable, and Public Library but mean, though somewhat improved by the wainscoting and books lately added by the Bishop Bancroft's library and MSS. They showed us little of antiquity, only King James's Works, being his own gift, and kept very reverently.
The market place is very ample, and remarkable for old Hobson, the pleasant carrier's beneficence of a fountain. But the whole town is situate in a low, dirty, unpleasant place, the streets ill-paved, the air thick and infected by the fens, nor are its churches, (of which St. Mary's is the best) anything considerable in compare to Oxford.
From Cambridge, we went to Audley-End, and spent some time in seeing that goodly place built by Howard (93), Earl of Suffolk, once Lord Treasurer. It is a mixed fabric, between antique and modern, but observable for its being completely finished, and without comparison is one of the stateliest palaces in the kingdom. It consists of two courts, the first very large, winged with cloisters. The front had a double entrance; the hall is fair, but somewhat too small for so august a pile. The kitchen is very large, as are the cellars, arched with stone, very neat and well disposed; these offices are joined by a wing out of the way very handsomely. The gallery is the most cheerful and I think one of the best in England; a fair dining-room, and the rest of the lodgings answerable, with a pretty chapel. The gardens are not in order, though well inclosed. It has also a bowling-alley, a noble well-walled, wooded and watered park, full of fine collines and ponds: the river glides before the palace, to which is an avenue of lime trees, but all this is much diminished by its being placed in an obscure bottom. For the rest, is a perfectly uniform structure, and shows without like a diadem, by the decorations of the cupolas and other ornaments on the pavilions; instead of rails and balusters, there is a border of capital letters, as was lately also on Suffolk House, near Charing-Cross, built by the same Lord Treasurer (93).
This house stands in the parish of Saffron Walden, famous for the abundance of saffron there cultivated, and esteemed the best of any foreign country.
John Evelyn's Diary 09 June 1658. 09 Jun 1658. I went to see the Earl of Northumberland's (55) pictures, whereof that of the Venetian Senators was one of the best of Titian's and another of Andrea del Sarto, viz, a Madonna, Christ, St. John, and an Old Woman; a St. Catherine of Da Vinci, with divers portraits of Vandyck (59); a Nativity of Georgioni; the last of our blessed Kings (Charles I.), and the Duke of York, by Lely (39), a Rosary by the famous Jesuits of Brussels, and several more. This was in Suffolk House: the new front toward the gardens is tolerable, were it not drowned by a too massy and clumsy pair of stairs of stone, without any neat invention.
The Mews House, Charing Cross, Westminster
Patent Rolls Edward IV 1461. 07 May 1461. Middleham Castle. The like (Grant for life) to the said earl (32) of the office of Master of the King's Mews and Falcons and a messuage called 'le Mewehous' at Charryng by Westminster, co Middlesex, with all houses and other profits pertaining to the same, in the same manner as John, duke of Bedford (71), deceased; and appointment of him to take the king's right prises of falcons, goshawks, sakers, sakrets, lanners, lannerets and ger-falcons sold within the realm, paying the accustomed price viz 20s for each tercel of goshawk, saker, lanner or lanneret. By other latters patent.
Three Tuns, Charing Cross, Westminster
Diary of Samuel Pepys 24 September 1660. 24 Sep 1660. Office Day. From thence to dinner by coach with my wife to my Cozen Scott's, and the company not being come, I went over the way to the Barber's. So thither again to dinner, where was my uncle Fenner and my aunt, my father and mother, and others. Among the rest my Cozen Rich. Pepys1, their elder brother, whom I had not seen these fourteen years, ever since he came from New England. It was strange for us to go a gossiping to her, she having newly buried her child that she was brought to bed of. I rose from table and went to the Temple church, where I had appointed Sir W. Batten (59) to meet him; and there at Sir Heneage Finch Sollicitor General's chambers, before him and Sir W. Wilde2, Recorder of London (whom we sent for from his chamber) we were sworn justices of peace for Middlesex, Essex, Kent, and Southampton; with which honour I did find myself mightily pleased, though I am wholly ignorant in the duty of a justice of peace. From thence with Sir William to Whitehall by water (old Mr. Smith with us) intending to speak with Secretary Nicholas about the augmentation of our salaries, but being forth we went to the Three Tuns tavern, where we drank awhile, and then came in Col. Slingsby (49) and another gentleman and sat with us. From thence to my Lord's to enquire whether they have had any thing from my Lord or no.
1. Richard Pepys, eldest son of Richard Pepys, Lord Chief Justice of Ireland (71). He went to Boston, Mass., in 1634, and returned to England about 1646.
2. William Wilde, elected Recorder on November 3rd, 1659, and appointed one of the commissioners sent to Breda to desire Charles II to return to England immediately. He was knighted after the King's (30) return, called to the degree of Serjeant, and created a baronet, all in the same year. In 1668 he ceased to be Recorder, and was appointed judge of the Court of Common Pleas. In 1673 he was removed to the King's Bench. He was turned out of his office in 1679 on account of his action in connection with the Popish Plot, and died November 23rd of the same year.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 01 November 1661. 01 Nov 1661. I went this morning with Sir W. Pen (40) by coach to Westminster, and having done my business at Mr. Montagu's, I went back to him at Whitehall, and from thence with him to the 3 Tun Tavern, at Charing Cross, and there sent for up the maister of the house's dinner, and dined very well upon it, and afterwards had him and his fayre sister (who is very great with Sir W. Batten (60) and Sir W. Pen (40) in mirth) up to us, and looked over some medals that they shewed us of theirs; and so went away to the Theatre, to "The Joviall Crew", and from hence home, and at my house we were very merry till late, having sent for his son, Mr. William Pen (17)1, lately come from Oxford. And after supper parted, and to bed.
1. The celebrated Quaker, and founder of Pennsylvania.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 04 December 1661. 04 Dec 1661. To the Temple, and thence to Mr. Phillips and got my copy of Sturtlow lands. So back to the 3 Tuns at Charing Cross, and there met the two Sir Williams and Col. Treswell and Mr. Falconer, and dined there at Sir W. Pen's (40) cost, and after dinner by water to Cheapside to the painter's (52), and there found my wife, and having sat a little she and I by coach to the Opera and Theatre, but coming too late to both, and myself being a little out of tune we returned, and I settled to read in "Mare Clausum" till bedtime, and so to bed.
Diary of Samuel Pepys 06 December 1661. 06 Dec 1661. So back to Sir G. Carteret's (51) and ended our business, and so away homewards, but Sir W. Batten (60) offering to go to the 3 Tuns at Charing Cross, where the pretty maid the daughter of the house is; I was saying that, that tickled Sir W. Pen (40), he seemed to take these words very captiously and angrily, which I saw, and seemed indifferent to go home in his coach with them, and so took leave to go to the Council Chamber to speak with my Lord Privy Seal, which I did, but they did stay for me, which I was pleased at, but no words passed between him and me in all our way home. So home and to bed.
Trafalgar Square, Charing Cross, Westminster
Around 1763. Canaletto Painter 1697-1768 (65). Northumberland House looking towards Strand. Note the Percy Lion; crest of the Duke Northumberland. And the statue of King Charles I of England, Scotland and Ireland 1600-1649 which remains in situ on the corner of what is now the south-east corner of Trafalgar Square.
The Haymarket, Charing Cross, Westminster
On 10 Jan 1687 Bernard Gascoigne Soldier 1614-1687 (73) died at The Haymarket.