Dined with my Lord and all the officers of his regiment, who invited my Lord and his friends, as many as he would bring, to dinner, at the Swan, at Dowgate, a poor house and ill dressed, but very good fish and plenty. Here Mr. Symons, the Surgeon, told me how he was likely to lose his estate that he had bought, at which I was not a little pleased. To Westminster, and with Mr. Howe by coach to the Speaker's, where my Lord supped with the King, but I could not get in. So back again, and after a song or two in my chamber in the dark, which do (now that the bed is out) sound very well, I went home and to bed.
28th. My brother Tom came to me with patterns to choose for a suit. I paid him all to this day, and did give him L10 upon account. To Mr. Coventry, who told me that he would do me all right in my business. To Sir G. Downing, the first visit I have made him since he came. He is so stingy a fellow I care not to see him; I quite cleared myself of his office, and did give him liberty to take any body in. Hawly and he are parted too, he is going to serve Sir Thos. Ingram. I went also this morning to see Mrs. Pierce, the chirurgeon['s wife]. I found her in bed in her house in Margaret churchyard. Her husband returned to sea. I did invite her to go to dinner with me and my wife to-day. After all this to my Lord, who lay a-bed till eleven o'clock, it being almost five before he went to bed, they supped so late last night with the King. This morning I saw poor Bishop Wren
[Matthew Wren, born 1585, successively Bishop of Hereford, Norwich,
and Ely. At the commencement of the Rebellion he was sent to the
Tower, and remained a prisoner there eighteen years. Died April
24th, 1667.]
going to Chappel, it being a thanksgiving-day
["A Proclamation for setting apart a day of Solemn and Publick
Thanksgiving throughout the whole Kingdom," dated June 5th, 1660.]
for the King's return. After my Lord was awake, I went up to him to the Nursery, where he do lie, and, having talked with him a little, I took leave and carried my wife and Mrs. Pierce to Clothworkers'-Hall, to dinner, where Mr. Pierce, the Purser, met us. We were invited by Mr. Chaplin, the Victualler, where Nich. Osborne was. Our entertainment very good, a brave hall, good company, and very good music. Where among other things I was pleased that I could find out a man by his voice, whom I had never seen before, to be one that sang behind the curtaine formerly at Sir W. Davenant's opera. Here Dr. Gauden and Mr. Gauden the victualler dined with us. After dinner to Mr. Rawlinson's,
[Daniel Rawlinson kept the Mitre in Fenchurch Street, and there is a
farthing token of his extant, "At the Mitetr in Fenchurch Streete,
D. M. R." The initials stand for Daniel and Margaret Rawlinson (see
"Boyne's Trade Tokens," ed. Williamson, vol. i., 1889, p. 595) In
"Reliquiae Hearnianae" (ed. Bliss, 1869, vol. ii. p. 39) is the
following extract from Thomas Rawlinson's Note Book R.: "Of Daniel
Rawlinson, my grandfather, who kept the Mitre tavern in Fenchurch
Street, and of whose being sequestred in the Rump time I have heard
much, the Whiggs tell this, that upon the king's murder he hung his
signe in mourning. He certainly judged right. The honour of the
Mitre was much eclipsed through the loss of so good a parent of the
church of England. These rogues say, this endeared him so much to
the churchmen that he soon throve amain and got a good estate."
Mrs. Rawlinson died of the plague (see August 9th, 1666), and the
house was burnt in the Great Fire. Mr. Rawlinson rebuilt the Mitre,
and he had the panels of the great room painted with allegorical
figures by Isaac Fuller. Daniel was father of Sir Thomas Rawlinson,
of whom Thomas Hearne writes (October 1st, 1705): "Sir Thomas
Rawlinson is chosen Lord Mayor of London for ye ensueing
notwithstanding the great opposition of ye Whigg party" (Hearne's
"Collections," ed. Doble, 1885, vol. i. p. 51). The well-known
antiquaries, Thomas and Richard Rawlinson, sons of Sir Thomas, were
therefore grandsons of Daniel.]
to see him and his wife, and would have gone to my Aunt Wight, but that her only child, a daughter, died last night. Home and to my Lord, who supped within, and Mr. E. Montagu, Mr. Thos. Crew, and others with him sat up late. I home and to bed.
29th. This day or two my maid Jane—[Jane Wayneman.]—has been lame, that we cannot tell what to do for want of her. Up and to White Hall, where I got my warrant from the Duke to be Clerk of the Acts. Also I got my Lord's warrant from the Secretary for his honour of Earle of Portsmouth, and Viscount Montagu of Hinchingbroke. So to my Lord, to give him an account of what I had done. Then to Sir Geffery Palmer, to give them to him to have bills drawn upon them, who told me that my Lord must have some good Latinist to make the preamble to his Patent, which must express his late service in the best terms that he can, and he told me in what high flaunting terms Sir J. Greenville had caused his to be done, which he do not like; but that Sir Richard Fanshawe had done General Monk's very well. Back to Westminster, and meeting Mr. Townsend in the Palace, he and I and another or two went and dined at the Leg there. Then to White Hall, where I was told by Mr. Hutchinson at the Admiralty, that Mr. Barlow, my predecessor, Clerk of the Acts, is yet alive, and coming up to town to look after his place, which made my heart sad a little. At night told my Lord thereof, and he bade me get possession of my Patent; and he would do all that could be done to keep him out. This night my Lord and I looked over the list of the Captains,. and marked some that my Lord had a mind to have put out. Home and to bed. Our wench very lame, abed these two days.
30th. By times to Sir R. Fanshawe to draw up the preamble to my Lord's Patent. So to my Lord, and with him to White Hall, where I saw a great many fine antique heads of marble, that my Lord Northumberland had given the King. Here meeting with Mr. De Cretz, he looked over many of the pieces, in the gallery with me and told me [by] whose hands they were, with great pleasure. Dined at home and Mr. Hawly with me upon six of my pigeons, which my wife has resolved to kill here. This day came Will,