11th. By barge to St. Mary's Creeke; where Commissioner Pett, (doubtful of the growing greatnesse of Portsmouth by the finding of those creekes there,) do design a wett docke at no great charge, and yet no little one; he thinks towards 10,000l. And the place, indeed, is likely to be a very fit place, when the King hath money to do it with.
13th. I walked to the Temple; and there, from my cousin Roger, hear that the Judges have this day brought in their answer to the Lords, That the articles against my Lord Chancellor are not Treason; and to-morrow they are to bring in their arguments to the House for the same. This day also the King did send by my Lord Chamberlain to the Lords; to tell them from him, that the most of the articles against my Lord Chancellor he himself knows to be false. I met the Queene-Mother walking in the Pell Mell, led by my Lord St. Alban's. And finding many coaches at the Gate, I found upon enquiry that the Duchesse is brought to bed of a boy; and hearing that the King and Queene are rode abroad with the Ladies of Honour to the Parke, and seeing a great crowd of gallants staying here to see their return, I also staid walking up and down. By and by the King and Queene, who looked in this dress (a white laced waistcoate and a crimson short pettycoate, and her hair dressed A LA NEGLIGENCE) mighty pretty; and the King rode hand in hand with her. Here was also my Lady Castlemaine rode among the rest of the ladies; but the King took, methought, no notice of her; nor when she light, did any body press (as she seemed to expect, and staid for it,) to take her down, but was taken down by her own gentlemen. She looked mighty out of humour, and had a yellow plume in her hat, (which all took notice of,) and yet is very handsome, but very melancholy: nor did any body speak to her, or she so much as smile or speak to any body. I followed them up into White Hall, and into the Queene's presence, where all the ladies walked, talking and fiddling with their hats and feathers, and changing and trying one another's by one another's heads, and laughing. But it was the finest sight to me, considering their great beautys, and dress, that ever I did see in all my life. But, above all, Mrs. Stewart in this dresse, with her hat cocked and a red plume, with her sweet eye, little Roman nose, and excellent taille, is now the greatest beauty I ever saw, I think, in my life; and, if ever woman can, do exceed my Lady Castlemaine, at least in this dress: nor do I wonder if the King changes, which I verily believe is the reason of his coldness to my Lady Castlemaine.
14th. This day I hear the Judges, according to order yesterday, did bring into the Lords' House their reasons of their judgments in the business between my Lord Bristoll and the Chancellor; and the Lords do concur with the Judges that the articles are not Treason, nor regularly brought into the House, and so voted that a Committee should be chosen to examine them; but nothing to be done therein till the next sitting of this Parliament, (which is likely to be adjourned in a day or two,) and in the mean time the two Lords to remain without prejudice done to either of them.
15th. Captain Grove come and dined with me. He told me of discourse very much to my honour, both as to my care and ability, happening at the Duke of Albemarle's table the other day, both from the Duke and the Duchesse themselves; and how I paid so much a year to him whose place it was of right, and that Mr. Coventry did report this of me.
21st. This day the Parliament kept a fast for the present unseasonable weather.
22nd. To my Lord Crewe's. My Lord not being come home, I met and staid below with Captn. Ferrers, who was come to wait upon my Lady Jemimah to St. James's, she being one of the four ladies that hold up the mantle at the christening this afternoon of the Duke's child (a boy). In discourse of the ladies at Court, Captn. Ferrers tells me that my Lady Castlemaine is now as great again as ever she was; and that her going away was only a fit of her own upon some slighting words of the King, so that she called for her coach at a quarter an hour's warning, and went to Richmond; and the King the next morning, under pretence of going a-hunting, went to see her and make friends, and never was a- hunting at all. After which she came back to Court, and commands the King as much as ever, and hath and doth what she will. No longer ago than last night, there was a private entertainment made for the King and Queene at the Duke of Buckingham's, and she was not invited: but being at my Lady Suffolk's, [Barbara, second wife of James Earl of Suffolk, eldest daughter of Sir Edward Villiers, and widow of Sir Richard Wentworth. She died Dec. 1681, leaving one daughter, Elizabeth, who married Sir Thomas Felton, Bart.] her aunt's (where my Lady Jemimah and Lord Sandwich dined,) yesterday, she was heard to say, "Well, much good may it do them, and for all that I will be as merry as they:" and so she went home and caused a great supper to be prepared. And after the King had been with the Queene at Wallingford House, [Wallingford House stood on the site of the present Admiralty: it originally belonged to the Knollys family, and during the Protectorate the office for granting passes to persons going abroad was kept there.] he come to my Lady Castlemaine's, and was there all night, and my Lord Sandwich with him. He tells me he believes that, as soon as the King can get a husband for Mrs. Stewart, however, my Lady Castlemaine's nose will be out of joynt; for that she comes to be in great esteem, and is more handsome than she. Wotten tells me the reason of Harris's [Joseph Harris, a celebrated actor, who first appeared at the Theatre in Lincoln's inn Fields, 1662. He probably died or left the stage about 1679.] going from Sir Wm. Davenant's house is, that he grew very proud and demanded 20l. for himself extraordinary, more than Betterton or any body else, upon every new play, and 10l. upon every revive which with other things Sir W. Davenant would not give him, and so he swore he would never act there more, in expectation of being received in the other House; but the King will not suffer it, upon Sir W. Davenant's desire that he would not, for then he might shut up house, and that is true. We tells me that his going is at present a great loss to the House, and that he fears he hath a stipend from the other House privately. He tells me that the fellow grew very proud of late, the King and every body else crying him up so high, and that above Betterton he being a more ayery man, as he is indeed. But yet Betterton, he says, they all say do act some parts that none but himself can do. I hear that the Moores have made some attaques upon the outworks of Tangier; but my Lord Teviott, with the loss of about; 200 men, did beat them of and killed many of them. To-morrow the King and Queene for certain go down to Tunbridge. But the King comes back again against Monday to raise the Parliament.
25th. Having intended this day to go to Banstead Downes to see a famous race, I sent Will. to get himself ready to go with me: but I hear it is put off, because the Lords do sit in Parliament to-day. After some debate, Creed and I resolved to go to Clapham, to Mr. Gauden's. [Dennis Gauden, Victualler to the Navy; subsequently knighted when Sheriff of London.] When I come there, the first thing was to show me his house, which is almost built. I find it very regular and finely contrived, and the gardens and offices about it as convenient and as full of good variety as ever I saw in my life. It is true he hath been censured for laying out so much money; but he tells me that he built it for his brother, who is since dead, (the Bishop [Of Exeter.]) who when he should come to be Bishop of Winchester, which he was promised, (to which bishopricke at present there is no house), he did intend to dwell here. By and by to dinner, and in comes Mr. Creed; I saluted his lady and the young ladies, and his sister, the Bishop's widow; who was, it seems, Sir W. Russel's daughter, the Treasurer of the Navy; who I find to be very well-bred, and a woman of excellent discourse. Towards the evening we bade them adieu! and took horse; being resolved that, instead of the race which fails us, we would go to Epsom. When we come there we could hear of no lodging the town so full; but which was better, I went toward Ashsted, and there we got a lodging in a little hole we could not stand upright in. While supper was getting I walked up and down behind my cosen Pepys's house that was, which I find comes little short of what I took it to be when I was a little boy.
26th (Lord's day). Up and to the Wells, where a great store of citizens, which was the greatest part of the company, though there were some others of better quality. Thence I walked to Mr. Minnes's house, and thence to Durdan's and walked within the Court Yard and to the Bowling-green, where I have seen so much mirth in my time; but now no family in it, (my Lord Barkeley, whose it is, being with his family at London.) Then rode through Epsom, the whole town over, seeing the various companys that were there walking; which was very pleasant to see how they are there without knowing what to do, but only in the morning to drink waters. But Lord! to see how many I met there of citizens, that I could not have thought to have seen there; that they had ever had it in their heads or purses to go down thither. We went through Nonesuch Parke to the house, and there viewed as much as we could of the outside, and looked through the great gates, and found a noble court; and altogether believe it to have been a very noble house, and a delicate parke about it, where just now there was a doe killed for the King to carry up to Court.
27th. We rode hard home, and see up our horses at Fox Hall, and I by water (observing the King's barge attending his going to the House this day) home, it being about one o'clock. By water to Westminster, and there come most luckily to the Lords' House, as the House of Commons were going into the Lords' House, and there I crowded in along with the Speaker, and got to stand close behind him, where he made his speech to the King (who sat with his crown on and robes, and so all the Lords in their robes, a fine sight); wherein he told his Majesty what they have done this Parliament, and now offered for his royall consent. The greatest matters were a bill for the Lord's day, (which it seems the Lords have lost, and so cannot be passed, at which the Commons are displeased.) The bills against Conventicles and Papists (but it seems the Lords have not passed them), and giving his Majesty four entire subsidys; which last, with about twenty smaller Acts, were passed with this form: The Clerk of the House reads the title of the bill, and then looks at the end and there finds (writ by the King I suppose) "Le Roy le veult," and that he reads. And to others he reads, "Soit fait comme vous desirez." And to the Subsidys as well that for the Commons, I mean the layety, as for the Clergy, the King writes, "Le Roy remerciant les Seigneurs et Prelats et accepte leur benevolences." The Speaker's speech was far from any oratory, but was as plain (though good matter) as any thing could be, and void of elocution. After the bills passed, the King, sitting on his throne, with his speech writ in a paper which he held in his lap, and scarce looked off of it all the time he made his speech to them, giving them thanks for their subsidys, of which, had he not need, he would not have asked or received them; and that need, not from any extravagancys of his, he was sure, in any thing, but the disorders of the times compelling him to be at greater charge than he hoped for the future, by their care in their country, he should be: and that for his family expenses and others, he would labour however to retrench in many things convenient, and would have all others to do so too. He desired that nothing of old faults should be remembered, or severity for the same used to any in the country, it being his desire to have all forgot as well as forgiven. But, however, to use all care in suppressing any tumults, &c.; assuring them that the restless spirits of his and their adversaries have great expectations of something to be done this summer. And promised that though the Acts about Conventicles and Papists, were not ripe for passing this Sessions, yet he would take care himself that neither of them should in this intervall be encouraged to the endangering of the peace; and that at their next meeting he would himself prepare two bills for them concerning them. So he concluded, that for the better proceeding of justice he did think fit to make this a Sessions, and to prorogue them to the 16th of March next. His speech was very plain, nothing at all of spirit in it, nor spoke with any; but rather on the contrary imperfectly, repeating many times his words though he read all: which I am sorry to see, it having not been hard for him to have got all the speech without booke. So they all went away, the King out of the House at the upper end, he being by and by to go to Tunbridge to the Queene; and I in the Painted Chamber spoke with my Lord Sandwich while he was putting off his robes, who tells me he will now hasten down into the country. By water to White Hall, and walked over the Parke to St. James's, but missed Mr. Coventry; and so out again, and there the Duke was coming along the Pell-Mell. It being a little darkish, I staid not to take notice of him, but went directly back again. And in our walk over the Parke, one of the Duke's footmen come running behind us, and come looking just in our faces to see who we were, and went back again. What his meaning is I know not, but was fearful that I might not go far enough with my hat off.
29th. To Deptford, reading by the way a most ridiculous play, a new one, called "The Politician cheated." [A comedy by Alexander Green.]