THE DIARY OF SAMUEL PEPYS M.A. F.R.S.
CLERK OF THE ACTS AND SECRETARY TO THE ADMIRALTY TRANSCRIBED FROM THE SHORTHAND MANUSCRIPT IN THE PEPYSIAN LIBRARY
MAGDALENE COLLEGE CAMBRIDGE BY THE REV. MYNORS BRIGHT M.A. LATE FELLOW
AND PRESIDENT OF THE COLLEGE (Unabridged) WITH LORD BRAYBROOKE’S NOTES
By Samuel Pepys
Edited With Additions By
Henry B. Wheatley F.S.A.
LONDON
GEORGE BELL & SONS YORK ST. COVENT GARDEN
CAMBRIDGE DEIGHTON BELL & CO.
1893
COMPLETE
CONTENTS
PREFACE
Although the Diary of Samuel Pepys has been in the hands of the public for nearly seventy years, it has not hitherto appeared in its entirety. In the original edition of 1825 scarcely half of the manuscript was printed. Lord Braybrooke added some passages as the various editions were published, but in the preface to his last edition he wrote: “there appeared indeed no necessity to amplify or in any way to alter the text of the Diary beyond the correction of a few verbal errors and corrupt passages hitherto overlooked.”
The public knew nothing as to what was left unprinted, and there was therefore a general feeling of gratification when it was announced some eighteen years ago that a new edition was to be published by the Rev. Mynors Bright, with the addition of new matter equal to a third of the whole. It was understood that at last the Diary was to appear in its entirety, but there was a passage in Mr. Bright’s preface which suggested a doubt respecting the necessary completeness. He wrote: “It would have been tedious to the reader if I had copied from the Diary the account of his daily work at the office.”
As a matter of fact, Mr. Bright left roughly speaking about one-fifth of the whole Diary still unprinted, although he transcribed the whole, and bequeathed his transcript to Magdalene College.
It has now been decided that the whole of the Diary shall be made public, with the exception of a few passages which cannot possibly be printed. It may be thought by some that these omissions are due to an unnecessary squeamishness, but it is not really so, and readers are therefore asked to have faith in the judgment of the editor. Where any passages have been omitted marks of omission are added, so that in all cases readers will know where anything has been left out.
Lord Braybrooke made the remark in his “Life of Pepys,” that “the cipher employed by him greatly resembles that known by the name of ‘Rich’s system.’” When Mr. Bright came to decipher the MS., he discovered that the shorthand system used by Pepys was an earlier one than Rich’s, viz., that of Thomas Shelton, who made his system public in 1620.
In his various editions Lord Braybrooke gave a large number of valuable notes, in the collection and arrangement of which he was assisted by the late Mr. John Holmes of the British Museum, and the late Mr. James Yeowell, sometime sub-editor of “Notes and Queries.” Where these notes are left unaltered in the present edition the letter “B.” has been affixed to them, but in many instances the notes have been altered and added to from later information, and in these cases no mark is affixed. A large number of additional notes are now supplied, but still much has had to be left unexplained. Many persons are mentioned in the Diary who were little known in the outer world, and in some instances it has been impossible to identify them. In other cases, however, it has been possible to throw light upon these persons by reference to different portions of the Diary itself. I would here ask the kind assistance of any reader who is able to illustrate passages that have been left unnoted. I have received much assistance from the various books in which the Diary is quoted. Every writer on the period covered by the Diary has been pleased to illustrate his subject by quotations from Pepys, and from these books it has often been possible to find information which helps to explain difficult passages in the Diary.
Much illustrative matter of value was obtained by Lord Braybrooke from the “Diurnall” of Thomas Rugge, which is preserved in the British Museum (Add. MSS. 10,116, 10,117). The following is the description of this interesting work as given by Lord Braybrooke
“MERCURIUS POLITICUS REDIVIVUS;
or, A Collection of the most materiall occurrances and transactions
in Public Affairs since Anno Dni, 1659, untill
28 March, 1672,
serving as an annuall diurnall for future satisfaction and
information,
BY THOMAS RUGGE.
Est natura hominum novitatis avida.—Plinius.
“This MS. belonged, in 1693, to Thomas Grey, second Earl of
Stamford. It has his autograph at the commencement, and on the
sides are his arms (four quarterings) in gold. In 1819, it was sold
by auction in London, as part of the collection of Thomas Lloyd,
Esq. (No. 1465), and was then bought by Thomas Thorpe, bookseller.
Whilst Mr. Lloyd was the possessor, the MS. was lent to Dr. Lingard,
whose note of thanks to Mr. Lloyd is preserved in the volume. From
Thorpe it appears to have passed to Mr. Heber, at the sale of whose
MSS. in Feb. 1836, by Mr. Evans, of Pall Mall, it was purchased by
the British Museum for L8 8s.
“Thomas Rugge was descended from an ancient Norfolk family, and two
of his ancestors are described as Aldermen of Norwich. His death
has been ascertained to have occurred about 1672; and in the Diary
for the preceding year he complains that on account of his declining
health, his entries will be but few. Nothing has been traced of his
personal circumstances beyond the fact of his having lived for
fourteen years in Covent Garden, then a fashionable locality.”
Another work I have found of the greatest value is the late Mr. J. E. Doyle’s “Official Baronage of England” (1886), which contains a mass of valuable information not easily to be obtained elsewhere. By reference to its pages I have been enabled to correct several erroneous dates in previous notes caused by a very natural confusion of years in the case of the months of January, February, and March, before it was finally fixed that the year should commence in January instead of March. More confusion has probably been introduced into history from this than from any other cause of a like nature. The reference to two years, as in the case of, say, Jan. 5, 1661-62, may appear clumsy, but it is the only safe plan of notation. If one year only is mentioned, the reader is never sure whether or not the correction has been made. It is a matter for sincere regret that the popular support was withheld from Mr. Doyle’s important undertaking, so that the author’s intention of publishing further volumes, containing the Baronies not dealt with in those already published, was frustrated.
My labours have been much lightened by the kind help which I have
received from those interested in the subject. Lovers of Pepys are
numerous, and I have found those I have applied to ever willing to
give me such information as they possess. It is a singular pleasure,
therefore, to have an opportunity of expressing publicly my thanks
to these gentlemen, and among them I would especially mention Messrs.
Fennell, Danby P. Fry, J. Eliot Hodgkin, Henry Jackson, J. K. Laughton,
Julian Marshall, John Biddulph Martin, J. E. Matthew, Philip Norman,
Richard B. Prosser, and Hugh Callendar, Fellow of Trinity College,
who verified some of the passages in the manuscript. To the Master
and Fellows of Magdalene College, also, I am especially indebted for
allowing me to consult the treasures of the Pepysian Library, and more
particularly my thanks are due to Mr. Arthur G. Peskett, the Librarian.
H. B. W.
BRAMPTON, OPPIDANS ROAD, LONDON, N.W.
February, 1893.
PREVIOUS EDITIONS OF THE DIARY.
I. Memoirs of Samuel Pepys, Esq., F.R.S., Secretary to the Admiralty in the reigns of Charles II. and James II., comprising his Diary from 1659 to 1669, deciphered by the Rev. John Smith, A.B., of St. John’s College, Cambridge, from the original Shorthand MS. in the Pepysian Library, and a Selection from his Private Correspondence. Edited by Richard, Lord Braybrooke. In two volumes. London, Henry Colburn... 1825. 4vo.
2. Memoirs of Samuel Pepys, Esq., F.R.S.... Second edition. In five volumes. London, Henry Colburn.... 1828. 8vo.
3. Diary and Correspondence of Samuel Pepys, F.R.S., Secretary to the Admiralty in the reigns of Charles II. and James II.; with a Life and Notes by Richard, Lord Braybrooke; the third edition, considerably enlarged. London, Henry Colburn.... 1848-49. 5 vols. sm. 8vo.
4. Diary and Correspondence of Samuel Pepys, F.R.S.... The fourth edition, revised and corrected. In four volumes. London, published for Henry Colburn by his successors, Hurst and Blackett... 1854. 8vo.
The copyright of Lord Braybrooke’s edition was purchased by the late Mr. Henry G. Bohn, who added the book to his Historical Library.
5. Diary and Correspondence of Samuel Pepys, Esq., F.R.S., from his MS. Cypber in the Pepysian Library, with a Life and Notes by Richard, Lord Braybrooke. Deciphered, with additional notes, by the Rev. Mynors Bright, M.A.... London, Bickers and Son, 1875-79. 6 vols. 8vo.
Nos. 1, 2 and 3 being out of copyright have been reprinted by various publishers.
No. 5 is out of print.
PARTICULARS OF THE LIFE OF SAMUEL PEPYS.
The family of Pepys is one of considerable antiquity in the east of England, and the Hon. Walter Courtenay Pepys
[Mr. W. C. Pepys has paid great attention to the history of his
family, and in 1887 he published an interesting work entitled
“Genealogy of the Pepys Family, 1273-1887,” London, George Bell and
Sons, which contains the fullest pedigrees of the family yet
issued.]
says that the first mention of the name that he has been able to find is in the Hundred Rolls (Edw. I, 1273), where Richard Pepis and John Pepes are registered as holding lands in the county of Cambridge. In the next century the name of William Pepis is found in deeds relating to lands in the parish of Cottenham, co. Cambridge, dated 1329 and 1340 respectively (Cole MSS., British Museum, vol. i., p. 56; vol. xlii., p. 44). According to the Court Roll of the manor of Pelhams, in the parish of Cottenham, Thomas Pepys was “bayliffe of the Abbot of Crowland in 1434,” but in spite of these references, as well as others to persons of the same name at Braintree, Essex, Depedale, Norfolk, &c., the first ancestor of the existing branches of the family from whom Mr. Walter Pepys is able to trace an undoubted descent, is “William Pepis the elder, of Cottenham, co. Cambridge,” whose will is dated 20th March, 1519.
In 1852 a curious manuscript volume, bound in vellum, and entitled “Liber Talboti Pepys de instrumentis ad Feoda pertinentibus exemplificatis,” was discovered in an old chest in the parish church of Bolney, Sussex, by the vicar, the Rev. John Dale, who delivered it to Henry Pepys, Bishop of Worcester, and the book is still in the possession of the family. This volume contains various genealogical entries, and among them are references to the Thomas Pepys of 1434 mentioned above, and to the later William Pepys. The reference to the latter runs thus:—
“A Noate written out of an ould Booke of my uncle William Pepys.”
“William Pepys, who died at Cottenham, 10 H. 8, was brought up by
the Abbat of Crowland, in Huntingdonshire, and he was borne in
Dunbar, in Scotland, a gentleman, whom the said Abbat did make his
Bayliffe of all his lands in Cambridgeshire, and placed him in
Cottenham, which William aforesaid had three sonnes, Thomas, John,
and William, to whom Margaret was mother naturallie, all of whom
left issue.”
In illustration of this entry we may refer to the Diary of June 12th, 1667, where it is written that Roger Pepys told Samuel that “we did certainly come out of Scotland with the Abbot of Crowland.” The references to various members of the family settled in Cottenham and elsewhere, at an early date already alluded to, seem to show that there is little foundation for this very positive statement.
With regard to the standing of the family, Mr. Walter Pepys writes:—
“The first of the name in 1273 were evidently but small copyholders.
Within 150 years (1420) three or four of the name had entered the
priesthood, and others had become connected with the monastery of
Croyland as bailiffs, &c. In 250 years (1520) there were certainly
two families: one at Cottenham, co. Cambridge, and another at
Braintree, co. Essex, in comfortable circumstances as yeomen
farmers. Within fifty years more (1563), one of the family, Thomas,
of Southcreeke, co. Norfolk, had entered the ranks of the gentry
sufficiently to have his coat-of-arms recognized by the Herald
Cooke, who conducted the Visitation of Norfolk in that year. From
that date the majority of the family have been in good
circumstances, with perhaps more than the average of its members
taking up public positions.”
There is a very general notion that Samuel Pepys was of plebeian birth because his father followed the trade of a tailor, and his own remark, “But I believe indeed our family were never considerable,”—[February 10th, 1661-62.] has been brought forward in corroboration of this view, but nothing can possibly be more erroneous, and there can be no doubt that the Diarist was really proud of his descent. This may be seen from the inscription on one of his book-plates, where he is stated to be:—
“Samuel Pepys of Brampton in Huntingdonshire, Esq., Secretary of the
Admiralty to his Matr. King Charles the Second: Descended from ye
antient family of Pepys of Cottenham in Cambridgeshire.”
Many members of the family have greatly distinguished themselves since the Diarist’s day, and of them Mr. Foss wrote (“Judges of England,” vol. vi., p. 467):—
“In the family of Pepys is illustrated every gradation of legal rank
from Reader of an Inn of Court to Lord High Chancellor of England.”
The William Pepys of Cottenham who commences the pedigree had three sons and three daughters; from the eldest son (Thomas) descended the first Norfolk branch, from the second son (John Pepys of Southcreeke) descended the second Norfolk branch, and from the third son (William) descended the Impington branch. The latter William had four sons and two daughters; two of these sons were named Thomas, and as they were both living at the same time one was distinguished as “the black” and the other as “the red.” Thomas the red had four sons and four daughters. John, born 1601, was the third son, and he became the father of Samuel the Diarist. Little is known of John Pepys, but we learn when the Diary opens that he was settled in London as a tailor. He does not appear to have been a successful man, and his son on August 26th, 1661, found that there was only L45 owing to him, and that he owed about the same sum. He was a citizen of London in 1650, when his son Samuel was admitted to Magdalene College, but at an earlier period he appears to have had business relations with Holland.
In August, 1661, John Pepys retired to a small property at Brampton (worth about L80 per annum), which had been left to him by his eldest brother, Robert Pepys, where he died in 1680.
The following is a copy of John Pepys’s will:
“MY FATHER’S WILL.
[Indorsement by S. Pepys.]
“Memorandum. That I, John Pepys of Ellington, in the county of
Huntingdon, Gent.”, doe declare my mind in the disposall of my
worldly goods as followeth:
“First, I desire that my lands and goods left mee by my brother,
Robert Pepys, deceased, bee delivered up to my eldest son, Samuell
Pepys, of London, Esqr., according as is expressed in the last Will
of my brother Robert aforesaid.
“Secondly, As for what goods I have brought from London, or procured
since, and what moneys I shall leave behind me or due to me, I
desire may be disposed of as followeth:
“Imprimis, I give to the stock of the poore of the parish of
Brampton, in which church I desire to be enterred, five pounds.
“Item. I give to the Poore of Ellington forty shillings.
“Item. I desire that my two grandsons, Samuell and John Jackson,
have ten pounds a piece.
“Item. I desire that my daughter, Paulina Jackson, may have my
largest silver tankerd.
“Item. I desire that my son John Pepys may have my gold seale-ring.
“Lastly. I desire that the remainder of what I shall leave be
equally distributed between my sons Samuel and John Pepys and my
daughter Paulina Jackson.
“All which I leave to the care of my eldest son Samuel Pepys, to see
performed, if he shall think fit.
“In witness hereunto I set my hand.”
His wife Margaret, whose maiden name has not been discovered, died on the 25th March, 1667, also at Brampton. The family of these two consisted of six sons and five daughters: John (born 1632, died 1640), Samuel (born 1633, died 1703), Thomas (born 1634, died 1664), Jacob (born 1637, died young), Robert (born 1638, died young), and John (born 1641, died 1677); Mary (born 1627), Paulina (born 1628), Esther (born 1630), Sarah (born 1635; these four girls all died young), and Paulina (born 1640, died 1680), who married John Jackson of Brampton, and had two sons, Samuel and John. The latter was made his heir by Samuel Pepys.
Samuel Pepys was born on the 23rd February, 1632-3, but the place of birth is not known with certainty. Samuel Knight, D.D., author of the “Life of Colet,” who was a connection of the family (having married Hannah Pepys, daughter of Talbot Pepys of Impington), says positively that it was at Brampton. His statement cannot be corroborated by the registers of Brampton church, as these records do not commence until the year 1654.
Samuel’s early youth appears to have been spent pretty equally between town and country. When he and his brother Tom were children they lived with a nurse (Goody Lawrence) at Kingsland, and in after life Samuel refers to his habit of shooting with bow and arrow in the fields around that place. He then went to school at Huntingdon, from which he was transferred to St. Paul’s School in London. He remained at the latter place until 1650, early in which year his name was entered as a sizar on the boards of Trinity Hall, Cambridge. He was admitted on the 21st June, but subsequently he transferred his allegiance to Magdalene College, where he was admitted a sizar on the 1st October of this same year. He did not enter into residence until March 5th, 1650-51, but in the following month he was elected to one of Mr. Spendluffe’s scholarships, and two years later (October 14th, 1653) he was preferred to one on Dr. John Smith’s foundation.
Little or nothing is known of Pepys’s career at college, but soon after obtaining the Smith scholarship he got into trouble, and, with a companion, was admonished for being drunk.
[October 21st, 1653. “Memorandum: that Peapys and Hind were
solemnly admonished by myself and Mr. Hill, for having been
scandalously over-served with drink ye night before. This was done
in the presence of all the Fellows then resident, in Mr. Hill’s
chamber.—JOHN WOOD, Registrar.” (From the Registrar’s-book of
Magdalene College.)]
His time, however, was not wasted, and there is evidence that he carried into his busy life a fair stock of classical learning and a true love of letters. Throughout his life he looked back with pleasure to the time he spent at the University, and his college was remembered in his will when he bequeathed his valuable library. In this same year, 1653, he graduated B.A. On the 1st of December, 1655, when he was still without any settled means of support, he married Elizabeth St. Michel, a beautiful and portionless girl of fifteen. Her father, Alexander Marchant, Sieur de St. Michel, was of a good family in Anjou, and son of the High Sheriff of Bauge (in Anjou). Having turned Huguenot at the age of twenty-one, when in the German service, his father disinherited him, and he also lost the reversion of some L20,000 sterling which his uncle, a rich French canon, intended to bequeath to him before he left the Roman Catholic church. He came over to England in the retinue of Henrietta Maria on her marriage with Charles I, but the queen dismissed him on finding that he was a Protestant and did not attend mass. Being a handsome man, with courtly manners, he found favour in the sight of the widow of an Irish squire (daughter of Sir Francis Kingsmill), who married him against the wishes of her family. After the marriage, Alexander St. Michel and his wife having raised some fifteen hundred pounds, started, for France in the hope of recovering some part of the family property. They were unfortunate in all their movements, and on their journey to France were taken prisoners by the Dunkirkers, who stripped them of all their property. They now settled at Bideford in Devonshire, and here or near by were born Elizabeth and the rest of the family. At a later period St. Michel served against the Spaniards at the taking of Dunkirk and Arras, and settled at Paris. He was an unfortunate man throughout life, and his son Balthasar says of him: “My father at last grew full of whimsies and propositions of perpetual motion, &c., to kings, princes and others, which soaked his pocket, and brought all our family so low by his not minding anything else, spending all he had got and getting no other employment to bring in more.” While he was away from Paris, some “deluding papists” and “pretended devouts” persuaded Madame St. Michel to place her daughter in the nunnery of the Ursulines. When the father heard of this, he hurried back, and managed to get Elizabeth out of the nunnery after she had been there twelve days. Thinking that France was a dangerous place to live in, he removed his family to England, where soon afterwards his daughter was married, although, as Lord Braybrooke remarks, we are not told how she became acquainted with Pepys. St. Michel was greatly pleased that his daughter had become the wife of a true Protestant, and she herself said to him, kissing his eyes: “Dear father, though in my tender years I was by my low fortune in this world deluded to popery, by the fond dictates thereof I have now (joined with my riper years, which give me some understanding) a man to my husband too wise and one too religious to the Protestant religion to suffer my thoughts to bend that way any more.”
[These particulars are obtained from an interesting letter from
Balthasar St. Michel to Pepys, dated “Deal, Feb. 8, 1673-4,” and
printed in “Life, Journals, and Correspondence of Samuel Pepys,”
1841, vol. i., pp. 146-53.]
Alexander St. Michel kept up his character for fecklessness through life, and took out patents for curing smoking chimneys, purifying water, and moulding bricks. In 1667 he petitioned the king, asserting that he had discovered King Solomon’s gold and silver mines, and the Diary of the same date contains a curious commentary upon these visions of wealth:—
“March 29, 1667. 4s. a week which his (Balty St. Michel’s) father
receives of the French church is all the subsistence his father and
mother have, and about; L20 a year maintains them.”
As already noted, Pepys was married on December 1st, 1655. This date is given on the authority of the Registers of St. Margaret’s Church, Westminster,
[The late Mr. T. C. Noble kindly communicated to me a copy of the
original marriage certificate, which is as follows: “Samuell Peps
of this parish Gent. & Elizabeth De Snt. Michell of Martins in the
fields, Spinster. Published October 19tn, 22nd, 29th 1655, and
were married by Richard Sherwin Esqr one of the justices of the
Peace of the Cittie and Lyberties of Westm. December 1st. (Signed)
Ri. Sherwin.”]
but strangely enough Pepys himself supposed his wedding day to have been October 10th. Lord Braybrooke remarks on this,
“It is notorious that the registers in those times were very ill
kept, of which we have here a striking instance.... Surely a
man who kept a diary could not have made such a blunder.”
What is even more strange than Pepys’s conviction that he was married on October 10th is Mrs. Pepys’s agreement with him: On October 10th, 1666, we read,
“So home to supper, and to bed, it being my wedding night, but how
many years I cannot tell; but my wife says ten.”
Here Mrs. Pepys was wrong, as it was eleven years; so she may have been wrong in the day also. In spite of the high authority of Mr. and Mrs. Pepys on a question so interesting to them both, we must accept the register as conclusive on this point until further evidence of its incorrectness is forthcoming.
Sir Edward Montage (afterwards Earl of Sandwich), who was Pepys’s first cousin one remove (Pepys’s grandfather and Montage’s mother being brother and sister), was a true friend to his poor kinsman, and he at once held out a helping hand to the imprudent couple, allowing them to live in his house. John Pepys does not appear to have been in sufficiently good circumstances to pay for the education of his son, and it seems probable that Samuel went to the university under his influential cousin’s patronage. At all events he owed his success in life primarily to Montage, to whom he appears to have acted as a sort of agent.
On March 26th, 1658, he underwent a successful operation for the stone, and we find him celebrating each anniversary of this important event of his life with thanksgiving. He went through life with little trouble on this score, but when he died at the age of seventy a nest of seven stones was found in his left kidney.
[“June 10th, 1669. I went this evening to London, to carry Mr.
Pepys to my brother Richard, now exceedingly afflicted with the
stone, who had been successfully cut, and carried the stone, as big
as a tennis ball, to show him and encourage his resolution to go
thro’ the operation.”—Evelyn’s Diary.]
In June, 1659, Pepys accompanied Sir Edward Montage in the “Naseby,” when the Admiral of the Baltic Fleet and Algernon Sidney went to the Sound as joint commissioners. It was then that Montage corresponded with Charles II., but he had to be very secret in his movements on account of the suspicions of Sidney. Pepys knew nothing of what was going on, as he confesses in the Diary:
“I do from this raise an opinion of him, to be one of the most
secret men in the world, which I was not so convinced of before.”
On Pepys’s return to England he obtained an appointment in the office of Mr., afterwards Sir George Downing, who was one of the Four Tellers of the Receipt of the Exchequer. He was clerk to Downing when he commenced his diary on January 1st, 1660, and then lived in Axe Yard, close by King Street, Westminster, a place on the site of which was built Fludyer Street. This, too, was swept away for the Government offices in 1864-65. His salary was L50 a year. Downing invited Pepys to accompany him to Holland, but he does not appear to have been very pressing, and a few days later in this same January he got him appointed one of the Clerks of the Council, but the recipient of the favour does not appear to have been very grateful. A great change was now about to take place in Pepys’s fortunes, for in the following March he was made secretary to Sir Edward Montage in his expedition to bring about the Restoration of Charles II., and on the 23rd he went on board the “Swiftsure” with Montage. On the 30th they transferred themselves to the “Naseby.” Owing to this appointment of Pepys we have in the Diary a very full account of the daily movements of the fleet until, events having followed their natural course, Montage had the honour of bringing Charles II. to Dover, where the King was received with great rejoicing. Several of the ships in the fleet had names which were obnoxious to Royalists, and on the 23rd May the King came on board the “Naseby” and altered there—the “Naseby” to the “Charles,” the “Richard” to the “Royal James,” the “Speaker” to the “Mary,” the “Winsby” to the “Happy Return,” the “Wakefield” to the “Richmond,” the “Lambert” to the “Henrietta,” the “Cheriton” to the “Speedwell,” and the “Bradford” to the “Success.” This portion of the Diary is of particular interest, and the various excursions in Holland which the Diarist made are described in a very amusing manner.
When Montagu and Pepys had both returned to London, the former told the latter that he had obtained the promise of the office of Clerk of the Acts for him. Many difficulties occurred before Pepys actually secured the place, so that at times he was inclined to accept the offers which were made to him to give it up. General Monk was anxious to get the office for Mr. Turner, who was Chief Clerk in the Navy Office, but in the end Montagu’s influence secured it for Pepys. Then Thomas Barlow, who had been appointed Clerk of the Acts in 1638, turned up, and appeared likely to become disagreeable. Pepys bought him off with an annuity of too, which he did not have to pay for any length of time, as Barlow died in February, 1664-65. It is not in human nature to be greatly grieved at the death of one to whom you have to pay an annuity, and Pepys expresses his feelings in a very naive manner:—
“For which God knows my heart I could be as sorry as is possible for
one to be for a stranger by whose death he gets L100 per annum, he
being a worthy honest man; but when I come to consider the
providence of God by this means unexpectedly to give me L100 a year
more in my estate, I have cause to bless God, and do it from the
bottom of my heart.”
This office was one of considerable importance, for not only was the holder the secretary or registrar of the Navy Board, but he was also one of the principal officers of the navy, and, as member of the board, of equal rank with the other commissioners. This office Pepys held during the whole period of the Diary, and we find him constantly fighting for his position, as some of the other members wished to reduce his rank merely to that of secretary. In his contention Pepys appears to have been in the right, and a valuable MS. volume in the Pepysian library contains an extract from the Old Instructions of about 1649, in which this very point is argued out. The volume appears to have been made up by William Penn the Quaker, from a collection of manuscripts on the affairs of the navy found in his father’s, “Sir William Penn’s closet.” It was presented to Charles II., with a dedication ending thus:—
“I hope enough to justifie soe much freedome with a Prince that is
so easie to excuse things well intended as this is
“BY
“Great Prince,
“Thy faithfull subject,
“WM. PENN”
“London, the 22 of the Mo. called June, 1680.”
It does not appear how the volume came into Pepys’s possession. It may have been given him by the king, or he may have taken it as a perquisite of his office. The book has an index, which was evidently added by Pepys; in this are these entries, which show his appreciation of the contents of the MS.:—
“Clerk of the Acts,
his duty,
his necessity and usefulness.”
The following description of the duty of the Clerk of the Acts shows the importance of the office, and the statement that if the clerk is not fitted to act as a commissioner he is a blockhead and unfit for his employment is particularly racy, and not quite the form of expression one would expect to find in an official document:
“CLERKE OF THE ACTS.
“The clarke of the Navye’s duty depends principally upon rateing (by
the Board’s approbation) of all bills and recording of them, and all
orders, contracts & warrants, making up and casting of accompts,
framing and writing answers to letters, orders, and commands from
the Councell, Lord High Admirall, or Commissioners of the Admiralty,
and he ought to be a very able accomptant, well versed in Navall
affairs and all inferior officers dutyes.
“It hath been objected by some that the Clarke of the Acts ought to
be subordinate to the rest of the Commissioners, and not to be
joyned in equall power with them, although he was so constituted
from the first institution, which hath been an opinion only of some
to keep him at a distance, least he might be thought too forward if
he had joynt power in discovering or argueing against that which
peradventure private interest would have concealed; it is certaine
no man sees more of the Navye’s Transactions than himselfe, and
possibly may speak as much to the project if required, or else he is
a blockhead, and not fitt for that imployment. But why he should
not make as able a Commissioner as a Shipp wright lett wise men
judge.”
In Pepys’s patent the salary is stated to be L33 6s. 8d., but this was only the ancient “fee out of the Exchequer,” which had been attached to the office for more than a century. Pepys’s salary had been previously fixed at L350 a-year.
Neither of the two qualifications upon which particular stress is laid in the above Instructions was possessed by Pepys. He knew nothing about the navy, and so little of accounts that apparently he learned the multiplication table for the first time in July, 1661. We see from the particulars given in the Diary how hard he worked to obtain the knowledge required in his office, and in consequence of his assiduity he soon became a model official. When Pepys became Clerk of the Acts he took up his residence at the Navy Office, a large building situated between Crutched Friars and Seething Lane, with an entrance in each of those places. On July 4th, 1660, he went with Commissioner Pett to view the houses, and was very pleased with them, but he feared that the more influential officers would jockey him out of his rights. His fears were not well grounded, and on July 18th he records the fact that he dined in his own apartments, which were situated in the Seething Lane front.
On July 24th, 1660, Pepys was sworn in as Lord Sandwich’s deputy for a Clerkship of the Privy Seal. This office, which he did not think much of at first, brought him “in for a time L3 a day.” In June, 1660, he was made Master of Arts by proxy, and soon afterwards he was sworn in as a justice of the Peace for Middlesex, Essex, Kent, and Hampshire, the counties in which the chief dockyards were situated.
Pepys’s life is written large in the Diary, and it is not necessary here to do more than catalogue the chief incidents of it in chronological order. In February, 1661-62, he was chosen a Younger Brother of the Trinity House, and in April, 1662, when on an official visit to Portsmouth Dockyard, he was made a burgess of the town. In August of the same year he was appointed one of the commissioners for the affairs of Tangier. Soon afterwards Thomas Povy, the treasurer, got his accounts into a muddle, and showed himself incompetent for the place, so that Pepys replaced him as treasurer to the commission.
In March, 1663-64, the Corporation of the Royal Fishery was appointed, with the Duke of York as governor, and thirty-two assistants, mostly “very great persons.” Through Lord Sandwich’s influence Pepys was made one of these.
The time was now arriving when Pepys’s general ability and devotion to business brought him prominently into notice. During the Dutch war the unreadiness of the ships, more particularly in respect to victualling, was the cause of great trouble. The Clerk of the Acts did his utmost to set things right, and he was appointed Surveyor-General of the Victualling Office. The kind way in which Mr. Coventry proposed him as “the fittest man in England” for the office, and the Duke of York’s expressed approval, greatly pleased him.
During the fearful period when the Plague was raging, Pepys stuck to his business, and the chief management of naval affairs devolved upon him, for the meetings at the Navy Office were but thinly attended. In a letter to Coventry he wrote:—
“The sickness in general thickens round us, and particularly upon
our neighbourhood. You, sir, took your turn of the sword; I must
not, therefore, grudge to take mine of the pestilence.”
At this time his wife was living at Woolwich, and he himself with his clerks at Greenwich; one maid only remained in the house in London.
Pepys rendered special service at the time of the Fire of London. He communicated the king’s wishes to the Lord Mayor, and he saved the Navy Office by having up workmen from Woolwich and Deptford Dockyards to pull down the houses around, and so prevent the spread of the flames.
When peace was at length concluded with the Dutch, and people had time to think over the disgrace which the country had suffered by the presence of De Ruyter’s fleet in the Medway, it was natural that a public inquiry into the management of the war should be undertaken. A Parliamentary Committee was appointed in October, 1667, to inquire into the matter. Pepys made a statement which satisfied the committee, but for months afterwards he was continually being summoned to answer some charge, so that he confesses himself as mad to “become the hackney of this office in perpetual trouble and vexation that need it least.”
At last a storm broke out in the House of Commons against the principal officers of the navy, and some members demanded that they should be put out of their places. In the end they were ordered to be heard in their own defence at the bar of the House. The whole labour of the defence fell upon Pepys, but having made out his case with great skill, he was rewarded by a most unexpected success. On the 5th March, 1667-68, he made the great speech of his life, and spoke for three hours, with the effect that he so far removed the prejudice against the officers of the Navy Board, that no further proceedings were taken in parliament on the subject. He was highly praised for his speech, and he was naturally much elated at his brilliant success.
About the year 1664 we first hear of a defect in Pepys’s eyesight. He consulted the celebrated Cocker, and began to wear green spectacles, but gradually this defect became more pronounced, and on the 31st of May, 1669, he wrote the last words in his Diary:
“And thus ends all that I doubt I shall ever be able to do with my
own eyes in the keeping of my journal, I being not able to do it any
longer, having done now as long as to undo my eyes almost every time
that I take a pen in my hand.”
He feared blindness and was forced to desist, to his lasting regret and our great loss.
At this time he obtained leave of absence from the duties of his office, and he set out on a tour through France and Holland accompanied by his wife. In his travels he was true to the occupation of his life, and made collections respecting the French and Dutch navies. Some months after his return he spoke of his journey as having been “full of health and content,” but no sooner had he and his wife returned to London than the latter became seriously ill with a fever. The disease took a fatal turn, and on the 10th of November, 1669, Elizabeth Pepys died at the early age of twenty-nine years, to the great grief of her husband. She died at their house in Crutched Friars, and was buried at St. Olave’s Church, Hart Street, where Pepys erected a monument to her memory.
Pepys’s successful speech at the bar of the House of Commons made him anxious to become a member, and the Duke of York and Sir William Coventry heartily supported him in his resolution. An opening occurred in due course, at Aldborough, in Suffolk, owing to the death of Sir Robert Brooke in 1669, but, in consequence of the death of his wife, Pepys was unable to take part in the election. His cause was warmly espoused by the Duke of York and by Lord Henry Howard (afterwards Earl of Norwich and sixth Duke of Norfolk), but the efforts of his supporters failed, and the contest ended in favour of John Bruce, who represented the popular party. In November, 1673, Pepys was more successful, and was elected for Castle Rising on the elevation of the member, Sir Robert Paston, to the peerage as Viscount Yarmouth. His unsuccessful opponent, Mr. Offley, petitioned against the return, and the election was determined to be void by the Committee of Privileges. The Parliament, however, being prorogued the following month without the House’s coming to any vote on the subject, Pepys was permitted to retain his seat. A most irrelevant matter was introduced into the inquiry, and Pepys was charged with having a crucifix in his house, from which it was inferred that he was “a papist or popishly inclined.” The charge was grounded upon reported assertions of Sir John Banks and the Earl of Shaftesbury, which they did not stand to when examined on the subject, and the charge was not proved to be good.
[“The House then proceeding upon the debate touching the Election
for Castle Rising, between Mr. Pepys and Mr. Offley, did, in the
first place, take into consideration what related personally to Mr.
Pepys. Information being given to the House that they had received
an account from a person of quality, that he saw an Altar with a
Crucifix upon it, in the house of Mr. Pepys; Mr. Pepys, standing up
in his place, did heartily and flatly deny that he ever had any
Altar or Crucifix, or the image or picture of any Saint whatsoever
in his house, from the top to the bottom of it; and the Members
being called upon to name the person that gave them the information,
they were unwilling to declare it without the order of the House;
which, being made, they named the Earl of Shaftesbury; and the House
being also informed that Sir J. Banks did likewise see the Altar, he
was ordered to attend the Bar of the House, to declare what he knew
of this matter. ‘Ordered that Sir William Coventry, Sir Thomas
Meeres, and Mr. Garraway do attend Lord Shaftesbury on the like
occasion, and receive what information his Lordship, can give on
this matter.’”—Journals of the House of Commons, vol. ix., p.
306.—” 13th February, Sir W. Coventry reports that they attended
the Earl of Shaftesbury, and received from him the account which
they had put in writing. The Earl of Shaftesbury denieth that he
ever saw an Altar in Mr. Pepys’s house or lodgings; as to the
Crucifix, he saith he hath, some imperfect memory of seeing somewhat
which he conceived to be a Crucifix. When his Lordship was asked
the time, he said it was before the burning of the Office of the
Navy. Being asked concerning the manner, he said he could not
remember whether it were painted or carved, or in what manner the
thing was; and that his memory was so very imperfect in it, that if
he were upon his oath he could give no testimony.”—. Ibid., vol.
ix., p. 309.—” 16th February—Sir John Banks was called in—The
Speaker desired him to answer what acquaintance he had with; Mr.
Pepys, and whether he used to have recourse to him to his house and
had ever seen there any Altar or Crucifix, or whether he knew of his
being a Papist, or Popishly inclined. Sir J. Banks said that he had
known and had been acquainted with Mr. Pepys several years, and had
often visited him and conversed with him at the Navy Office, and at
his house there upon several occasions, and that he never saw in his
house there any Altar or Crucifix, and that he does not believe him
to be a Papist, or that way inclined in the least, nor had any
reason or ground to think or believe it.”—Ibid., vol, ix., p. 310.]
It will be seen from the extracts from the Journals of the House of Commons given in the note that Pepys denied ever having had an altar or crucifix in his house. In the Diary there is a distinct statement of his possession of a crucifix, but it is not clear from the following extracts whether it was not merely a varnished engraving of the Crucifixion which he possessed:
July 20, 1666. “So I away to Lovett’s, there to see how my picture
goes on to be varnished, a fine crucifix which will be very fine.”
August 2. “At home find Lovett, who showed me my crucifix, which
will be very fine when done.” Nov. 3. “This morning comes Mr.
Lovett and brings me my print of the Passion, varnished by him, and
the frame which is indeed very fine, though not so fine as I
expected; but pleases me exceedingly.”
Whether he had or had not a crucifix in his house was a matter for himself alone, and the interference of the House of Commons was a gross violation of the liberty of the subject.
In connection with Lord Shaftesbury’s part in this matter, the late Mr. W. D. Christie found the following letter to Sir Thomas Meres among the papers at St. Giles’s House, Dorsetshire:—
“Exeter House, February 10th, 1674.
“Sir,—That there might be no mistake, I thought best to put my
answer in writing to those questions that yourself, Sir William
Coventry, and Mr. Garroway were pleased to propose to me this
morning from the House of Commons, which is that I never designed to
be a witness against any man for what I either heard or saw, and
therefore did not take so exact notice of things inquired of as to
be able to remember them so clearly as is requisite to do in a
testimony upon honour or oath, or to so great and honourable a body
as the House of Commons, it being some years distance since I was at
Mr. Pepys his lodging. Only that particular of an altar is so
signal that I must needs have remembered it had I seen any such
thing, which I am sure I do not. This I desire you to communicate
with Sir William Coventry and Mr. Garroway to be delivered as my
answer to the House of Commons, it being the same I gave you this
morning.
“I am, Sir,
“Your most humble servant,
“SHAFTESBURY.”
After reading this letter Sir William Coventry very justly remarked, “There are a great many more Catholics than think themselves so, if having a crucifix will make one.” Mr. Christie resented the remarks on Lord Shaftesbury’s part in this persecution of Pepys made by Lord Braybrooke, who said, “Painful indeed is it to reflect to what length the bad passions which party violence inflames could in those days carry a man of Shaftesbury’s rank, station, and abilities.” Mr. Christie observes, “It is clear from the letter to Meres that Shaftesbury showed no malice and much scrupulousness when a formal charge, involving important results, was founded on his loose private conversations.” This would be a fair vindication if the above attack upon Pepys stood alone, but we shall see later on that Shaftesbury was the moving spirit in a still more unjustifiable attack.
Lord Sandwich died heroically in the naval action in Southwold Bay, and on June 24th,1672, his remains were buried with some pomp in Westminster Abbey. There were eleven earls among the mourners, and Pepys, as the first among “the six Bannerolles,” walked in the procession.
About this time Pepys was called from his old post of Clerk of the Acts to the higher office of Secretary of the Admiralty. His first appointment was a piece of favouritism, but it was due to his merits alone that he obtained the secretaryship. In the summer of 1673, the Duke of York having resigned all his appointments on the passing of the Test Act, the King put the Admiralty into commission, and Pepys was appointed Secretary for the Affairs of the Navy.
[The office generally known as Secretary of the Admiralty dates back
many years, but the officer who filled it was sometimes Secretary to
the Lord High Admiral, and sometimes to the Commission for that
office. “His Majesties Letters Patent for ye erecting the office of
Secretary of ye Admiralty of England, and creating Samuel Pepys,
Esq., first Secretary therein,” is dated June 10th, 1684.]
He was thus brought into more intimate connection with Charles II., who took the deepest interest in shipbuilding and all naval affairs. The Duke of Buckingham said of the King:—
“The great, almost the only pleasure of his mind to which he seemed
addicted was shipping and sea affairs, which seemed to be so much
his talent for knowledge as well as inclination, that a war of that
kind was rather an entertainment than any disturbance to his
thoughts.”
When Pepys ceased to be Clerk of the Acts he was able to obtain the appointment for his clerk, Thomas Hayter, and his brother, John Pepys, who held it jointly. The latter does not appear to have done much credit to Samuel. He was appointed Clerk to the Trinity House in 1670 on his brother’s recommendation, and when he died in 1677 he was in debt L300 to his employers, and this sum Samuel had to pay. In 1676 Pepys was Master of the Trinity House, and in the following year Master of the Clothworkers’ Company, when he presented a richly-chased silver cup, which is still used at the banquets of the company. On Tuesday, 10th September, 1677, the Feast of the Hon. Artillery Company was held at Merchant Taylors’ Hall, when the Duke of York, the Duke of Somerset, the Lord Chancellor, and other distinguished persons were present. On this occasion Viscount Newport, Sir Joseph Williamson, and Samuel Pepys officiated as stewards.
About this time it is evident that the secretary carried himself with some haughtiness as a ruler of the navy, and that this was resented by some. An amusing instance will be found in the Parliamentary Debates. On May 11th, 1678, the King’s verbal message to quicken the supply was brought in by Mr. Secretary Williamson, when Pepys spoke to this effect:
“When I promised that the ships should be ready by the 30th of May,
it was upon the supposition of the money for 90 ships proposed by
the King and voted by you, their sizes and rates, and I doubt not by
that time to have 90 ships, and if they fall short it will be only
from the failing of the Streights ships coming home and those but
two.....
“Sir Robert Howard then rose and said, ‘Pepys here speaks rather
like an Admiral than a Secretary, “I” and “we.” I wish he knows
half as much of the Navy as he pretends.’”
Pepys was chosen by the electors of Harwich as their member in the short Parliament that sat from March to July, 1679, his colleague being Sir Anthony Deane, but both members were sent to the Tower in May on a baseless charge, and they were superseded in the next Parliament that met on the 17th October, 1679.
The high-handed treatment which Pepys underwent at this time exhibits a marked instance of the disgraceful persecution connected with the so-called Popish plot. He was totally unconnected with the Roman Catholic party, but his association with the Duke of York was sufficient to mark him as a prey for the men who initiated this “Terror” of the seventeenth century. Sir. Edmund Berry Godfrey came to his death in October, 1678, and in December Samuel Atkins, Pepys’s clerk, was brought to trial as an accessory to his murder. Shaftesbury and the others not having succeeded in getting at Pepys through his clerk, soon afterwards attacked him more directly, using the infamous evidence of Colonel Scott. Much light has lately been thrown upon the underhand dealings of this miscreant by Mr. G. D. Scull, who printed privately in 1883 a valuable work entitled, “Dorothea Scott, otherwise Gotherson, and Hogben of Egerton House, Kent, 1611-1680.”
John Scott (calling himself Colonel Scott) ingratiated himself into acquaintance with Major Gotherson, and sold to the latter large tracts of land in Long Island, to which he had no right whatever. Dorothea Gotherson, after her husband’s death, took steps to ascertain the exact state of her property, and obtained the assistance of Colonel Francis Lovelace, Governor of New York. Scott’s fraud was discovered, and a petition for redress was presented to the King. The result of this was that the Duke of York commanded Pepys to collect evidence against Scott, and he accordingly brought together a great number of depositions and information as to his dishonest proceedings in New England, Long Island, Barbadoes, France, Holland, and England, and these papers are preserved among the Rawlinson Manuscripts in the Bodleian. Scott had his revenge, and accused Pepys of betraying the Navy by sending secret particulars to the French Government, and of a design to dethrone the king and extirpate the Protestant religion. Pepys and Sir Anthony Deane were committed to the Tower under the Speaker’s warrant on May 22nd, 1679, and Pepys’s place at the Admiralty was filled by the appointment of Thomas Hayter. When the two prisoners were brought to the bar of the King’s Bench on the 2nd of June, the Attorney-General refused bail, but subsequently they were allowed to find security for L30,000.
Pepys was put to great expense in collecting evidence against Scott and obtaining witnesses to clear himself of the charges brought against him. He employed his brother-in-law, Balthasar St. Michel, to collect evidence in France, as he himself explains in a letter to the Commissioners of the Navy:—
“His Majesty of his gracious regard to me, and the justification of
my innocence, was then pleased at my humble request to dispence with
my said brother goeing (with ye shippe about that time designed for
Tangier) and to give leave to his goeing into France (the scene of
ye villannys then in practice against me), he being the only person
whom (from his relation to me, together with his knowledge in the
place and language, his knowne dilligence and particular affection
towards mee) I could at that tyme and in soe greate a cause pitch
on, for committing the care of this affaire of detecting the
practice of my enemies there.”
In the end Scott refused to acknowledge to the truth of his original deposition, and the prisoners were relieved from their bail on February 12th, 1679-80. John James, a butler previously in Pepys’s service, confessed on his deathbed in 1680 that he had trumped up the whole story relating to his former master’s change of religion at the instigation of Mr. William Harbord, M.P. for Thetford.
Pepys wrote on July 1st, 1680, to Mrs. Skinner:
“I would not omit giving you the knowledge of my having at last
obtained what with as much reason I might have expected a year ago,
my full discharge from the bondage I have, from one villain’s
practice, so long lain under.”
William Harbord, of Cadbury, co. Somerset, second son of Sir Charles Harbord, whom he succeeded in 1682 as Surveyor. General of the Land Revenues of the Crown, was Pepys’s most persistent enemy. Several papers referring to Harbord’s conduct were found at Scott’s lodging after his flight, and are now preserved among the Rawlinson MSS. in the Bodleian. One of these was the following memorandum, which shows pretty plainly Pepys’s opinion of Harbord:—
“That about the time of Mr. Pepys’s surrender of his employment of
Secretary of the Admiralty, Capt. Russell and myself being in
discourse about Mr. Pepys, Mr. Russell delivered himself in these or
other words to this purport: That he thought it might be of
advantage to both, if a good understanding were had between his
brother Harbord and Mr. Pepys, asking me to propose it to Mr. Pepys,
and he would to his brother, which I agreed to, and went immediately
from him to Mr. Pepys, and telling him of this discourse, he gave me
readily this answer in these very words: That he knew of no service
Mr. Harbord could doe him, or if he could, he should be the last man
in England he would receive any from.”
[William Harbord sat as M.P. for Thetford in several parliaments.
In 1689 he was chosen on the Privy Council, and in 1690 became Vice-
Treasurer for Ireland. He was appointed Ambassador to Turkey in
1692, and died at Belgrade in July of that year.]
Besides Scott’s dishonesty in his dealings with Major Gotherson, it came out that he had cheated the States of Holland out of L7,000, in consequence of which he was hanged in effigy at the Hague in 1672. In 1682 he fled from England to escape from the law, as he had been guilty of wilful murder by killing George Butler, a hackney coachman, and he reached Norway in safety, where he remained till 1696. In that year some of his influential friends obtained a pardon for him from William III., and he returned to England.
In October, 1680, Pepys attended on Charles II. at Newmarket, and there he took down from the King’s own mouth the narrative of his Majesty’s escape from Worcester, which was first published in 1766 by Sir David Dalrymple (Lord Hailes) from the MS., which now remains in the Pepysian library both in shorthand and in longhand? It is creditable to Charles II. and the Duke of York that both brothers highly appreciated the abilities of Pepys, and availed themselves of his knowledge of naval affairs.
In the following year there was some chance that Pepys might retire from public affairs, and take upon himself the headship of one of the chief Cambridge colleges. On the death of Sir Thomas Page, the Provost of King’s College, in August, 1681, Mr. S. Maryon, a Fellow of Clare Hall, recommended Pepys to apply to the King for the appointment, being assured that the royal mandate if obtained would secure his election. He liked the idea, but replied that he believed Colonel Legge (afterwards Lord Dartmouth) wanted to get the office for an old tutor. Nothing further seems to have been done by Pepys, except that he promised if he were chosen to give the whole profit of the first year, and at least half of that of each succeeding year, to “be dedicated to the general and public use of the college.” In the end Dr. John Coplestone was appointed to the post.
On May 22nd, 1681, the Rev. Dr. Milles, rector of St. Olave’s, who is so often mentioned in the Diary, gave Pepys a certificate as to his attention to the services of the Church. It is not quite clear what was the occasion of the certificate, but probably the Diarist wished to have it ready in case of another attack upon him in respect to his tendency towards the Church of Rome.
Early in 1682 Pepys accompanied the Duke of York to Scotland, and narrowly escaped shipwreck by the way. Before letters could arrive in London to tell of his safety, the news came of the wreck of the “Gloucester” (the Duke’s ship), and of the loss of many lives. His friends’ anxiety was relieved by the arrival of a letter which Pepys wrote from Edinburgh to Hewer on May 8th, in which he detailed the particulars of the adventure. The Duke invited him to go on board the “Gloucester” frigate, but he preferred his own yacht (the “Catherine “), in which he had more room, and in consequence of his resolution he saved himself from the risk of drowning. On May 5th the frigate struck upon the sand called “The Lemon and Oar,” about sixteen leagues from the mouth of the Humber. This was caused by the carelessness of the pilot, to whom Pepys imputed “an obstinate over-weening in opposition to the contrary opinions of Sir I. Berry, his master, mates, Col. Legg, the Duke himself, and several others, concurring unanimously in not being yet clear of the sands.” The Duke and his party escaped, but numbers were drowned in the sinking ship, and it is said that had the wreck occurred two hours earlier, and the accompanying yachts been at the distance they had previously been, not a soul would have escaped.
Pepys stayed in Edinburgh for a short time, and the Duke of York allowed him to be present at two councils. He then visited; with Colonel George Legge, some of the principal places in the neighbourhood, such as Stirling, Linlithgow, Hamilton, and Glasgow. The latter place he describes as “a very extraordinary town indeed for beauty and trade, much superior to any in Scotland.”
Pepys had now been out of office for some time, but he was soon to have employment again. Tangier, which was acquired at the marriage of the King to Katharine of Braganza, had long been an incumbrance, and it was resolved at last to destroy the place. Colonel Legge (now Lord Dartmouth) was in August, 1683, constituted Captain-General of his Majesty’s forces in Africa, and Governor of Tangier, and sent with a fleet of about twenty sail to demolish and blow up the works, destroy the harbour, and bring home the garrison. Pepys received the King’s commands to accompany Lord Dartmouth on his expedition, but the latter’s instructions were secret, and Pepys therefore did not know what had been decided upon. He saw quite enough, however, to form a strong opinion of the uselessness of the place to England. Lord Dartmouth carried out his instructions thoroughly, and on March 29th, 1684, he and his party (including Pepys) arrived in the English Channel.
The King himself now resumed the office of Lord High Admiral, and appointed Pepys Secretary of the Admiralty, with a salary of L500 per annum. In the Pepysian Library is the original patent, dated June 10th, 1684: “His Majesty’s Letters Patent for ye erecting the office of Secretary of ye Admiralty of England, and creating Samuel Pepys, Esq., first Secretary therein.” In this office the Diarist remained until the period of the Revolution, when his official career was concluded.
A very special honour was conferred upon Pepys in this year, when he was elected President of the Royal Society in succession to Sir Cyril Wyche, and he held the office for two years. Pepys had been admitted a fellow of the society on February 15th, 1664-65, and from Birch’s “History” we find that in the following month he made a statement to the society:—
“Mr. Pepys gave an account of what information he had received from the Master of the Jersey ship which had been in company with Major Holmes in the Guinea voyage concerning the pendulum watches (March 15th, 1664-5).”
The records of the society show that he frequently made himself useful by obtaining such information as might be required in his department. After he retired from the presidency, he continued to entertain some of the most distinguished members of the society on Saturday evenings at his house in York Buildings. Evelyn expressed the strongest regret when it was necessary to discontinue these meetings on account of the infirmities of the host.
In 1685 Charles II. died, and was succeeded by James, Duke of York. From his intimate association with James it might have been supposed that a long period of official life was still before Pepys, but the new king’s bigotry and incapacity soon made this a practical impossibility. At the coronation of James II. Pepys marched in the procession immediately behind the king’s canopy, as one of the sixteen barons of the Cinque Ports.
In the year 1685 a new charter was granted to the Trinity Company, and Pepys was named in it the first master, this being the second time that he had held the office of master.
Evelyn specially refers to the event in his Diary, and mentions the distinguished persons present at the dinner on July 20th.
It is evident that at this time Pepys was looked upon as a specially influential man, and when a parliament was summoned to meet on May 19th, 1685, he was elected both for Harwich and for Sandwich. He chose to serve for Harwich, and Sir Philip Parker was elected to fill his place at Sandwich.
This parliament was dissolved by proclamation July 2nd, 1687, and on August 24th the king declared in council that another parliament should be summoned for November 27th, 1688, but great changes took place before that date, and when the Convention Parliament was called together in January and February, 1689-90, Pepys found no place in it. The right-hand man of the exiled monarch was not likely to find favour in the eyes of those who were now in possession. When the election for Harwich came on, the electors refused to return him, and the streets echoed to the cry of “No Tower men, no men out of the Tower!” They did not wish to be represented in parliament by a disgraced official.
We have little or no information to guide us as to Pepys’s proceedings at the period of the Revolution. We know that James II. just before his flight was sitting to Kneller for a portrait intended for the Secretary to the Admiralty, and that Pepys acted in that office for the last time on 20th February, 1688-89, but between those dates we know nothing of the anxieties and troubles that he must have suffered. On the 9th March an order was issued from the Commissioners of the Admiralty for him to deliver up his books, &c., to Phineas Bowies, who superseded him as secretary.
Pepys had many firm friends upon whom he could rely, but he had also enemies who lost no opportunity of worrying him. On June 10th, 1690, Evelyn has this entry in his Diary, which throws some light upon the events of the time:—
“Mr. Pepys read to me his Remonstrance, skewing with what malice and
injustice he was suspected with Sir Anth. Deane about the timber of
which the thirty ships were built by a late Act of Parliament, with
the exceeding danger which the fleete would shortly be in, by reason
of the tyranny and incompetency of those who now managed the
Admiralty and affairs of the Navy, of which he gave an accurate
state, and shew’d his greate ability.”
On the 25th of this same month Pepys was committed to the Gatehouse at Westminster on a charge of having sent information to the French Court of the state of the English navy. There was no evidence of any kind against him, and at the end of July he was allowed to return to his own house on account of ill-health. Nothing further was done in respect to the charge, but he was not free till some time after, and he was long kept in anxiety, for even in 1692 he still apprehended some fresh persecution.
Sir Peter Palavicini, Mr. James Houblon, Mr. Blackburne, and Mr. Martin bailed him, and he sent them the following circular letter:—
“October 15, 1690.
“Being this day become once again a free man in every respect, I
mean but that of my obligation to you and the rest of my friends, to
whom I stand indebted for my being so, I think it but a reasonable
part of my duty to pay you and them my thanks for it in a body; but
know not how otherwise to compass it than by begging you, which I
hereby do, to take your share with them and me here, to-morrow, of a
piece of mutton, which is all I dare promise you, besides that of
being ever,
“Your most bounden and faithful humble servant,
“S. P.”
He employed the enforced idleness caused by being thrust out of his employment in the collection of the materials for the valuable work which he published in 1690, under the title of “Memoirs of the Navy.” Little more was left for him to do in life, but as the government became more firmly established, and the absolute absurdity of the idea of his disloyalty was proved, Pepys held up his head again as a man to be respected and consulted, and for the remainder of his life he was looked upon as the Nestor of the Navy.
There is little more to be told of Pepys’s life. He continued to keep up an extended correspondence with his many friends, and as Treasurer of Christ’s Hospital he took very great interest in the welfare of that institution. He succeeded in preserving from impending ruin the mathematical foundation which had been originally designed by him, and through his anxious solicitations endowed and cherished by Charles II. and James II. One of the last public acts of his life was the presentation of the portrait of the eminent Dr. John Wallis, Savilian Professor of Geometry, to the University of Oxford.
In 1701 he sent Sir Godfrey Kneller to Oxford to paint the portrait, and the University rewarded him with a Latin diploma containing in gorgeous language the expression of thanks for his munificence.’
On the 26th May, 1703, Samuel Pepys, after long continued suffering, breathed his last in the presence of the learned Dr. George Hickes, the nonjuring Dean of Worcester, and the following letter from John Jackson to his uncle’s lifelong friend Evelyn contains particulars as to the cause of death:
Mr. Jackson to Mr. Evelyn.
“Clapham, May 28th, 1703.
“Friday night.
“Honoured Sir,
“‘Tis no small addition to my grief, to be obliged to interrupt the
quiet of your happy recess with the afflicting tidings of my Uncle
Pepys’s death: knowing how sensibly you will partake with me herein.
But I should not be faithful to his desires, if I did not beg your
doing the honour to his memory of accepting mourning from him, as a
small instance of his most affectionate respect and honour for you.
I have thought myself extremely unfortunate to be out of the way at
that only time when you were pleased lately to touch here, and
express so great a desire of taking your leave of my Uncle; which
could not but have been admitted by him as a most welcome exception
to his general orders against being interrupted; and I could most
heartily wish that the circumstances of your health and distance did
not forbid me to ask the favour of your assisting in the holding up
of the pawll at his interment, which is intended to be on Thursday
next; for if the manes are affected with what passes below, I am
sure this would have been very grateful to his.
“I must not omit acquainting you, sir, that upon opening his body,
(which the uncommonness of his case required of us, for our own
satisfaction as well as public good) there was found in his left
kidney a nest of no less than seven stones, of the most irregular,
figures your imagination can frame, and weighing together four
ounces and a half, but all fast linked together, and adhering to his
back; whereby they solve his having felt no greater pains upon
motion, nor other of the ordinary symptoms of the stone. Some other
lesser defects there also were in his body, proceeding from the same
cause. But his stamina, in general, were marvellously strong, and
not only supported him, under the most exquisite pains, weeks beyond
all expectations; but, in the conclusion, contended for nearly forty
hours (unassisted by any nourishment) with the very agonies of
death, some few minutes excepted, before his expiring, which were
very calm.
“There remains only for me, under this affliction, to beg the
consolation and honour of succeeding to your patronage, for my
Uncle’s sake; and leave to number myself, with the same sincerity he
ever did, among your greatest honourers, which I shall esteem as one
of the most valuable parts of my inheritances from him; being also,
with the faithfullest wishes of health and a happy long life to you,
“Honoured Sir,
“Your most obedient and
“Most humble Servant,
“J. JACKSON.
“Mr. Hewer, as my Uncle’s Executor, and equally your faithful
Servant, joins with me in every part hereof.
“The time of my Uncle’s departure was about three-quarters past
three on Wednesday morning last.”
Evelyn alludes in his Diary to Pepys’s death and the present to him of a suit of mourning. He speaks in very high terms of his friend:—
“1703, May 26th. This day died Mr. Sam Pepys, a very worthy,
industrious, and curious person, none in England exceeding him in
knowledge of the navy, in which he had passed thro’ all the most
considerable offices, Clerk of the Acts and Secretary of the
Admiralty, all which he performed with great integrity. When K.
James II. went out of England, he laid down his office, and would
serve no more, but withdrawing himselfe from all public affaires, he
liv’d at Clapham with his partner Mr. Hewer, formerly his clerk, in
a very noble and sweete place, where he enjoy’d the fruits of his
labours in greate prosperity. He was universally belov’d,
hospitable, generous, learned in many things, skilfd in music, a
very greate cherisher of learned men of whom he had the conversation
.... Mr. Pepys had been for neere 40 yeeres so much my
particular friend that Mr. Jackson sent me compleat mourning,
desiring me to be one to hold up the pall at his magnificent
obsequies, but my indisposition hinder’d me from doing him this last
office.”
The body was brought from Clapham and buried in St. Olave’s Church, Hart Street, on the 5th June, at nine o’clock at night, in a vault just beneath the monument to the memory of Mrs. Pepys. Dr. Hickes performed the last sad offices for his friend.
Pepys’s faithful friend, Hewer, was his executor, and his nephew, John Jackson, his heir. Mourning was presented to forty persons, and a large number of rings to relations, godchildren, servants, and friends, also to representatives of the Royal Society, of the Universities of Cambridge and Oxford, of the Admiralty, and of the Navy Office. The bulk of the property was bequeathed to Jackson, but the money which was left was much less than might have been expected, for at the time of Pepys’s death there was a balance of L28,007 2s. 1d. due to him from the Crown, and none of this was ever paid. The books and other collections were left to Magdalene College, Cambridge, but Jackson was to have possession of them during his lifetime. These were the most important portion of Pepys’s effects, for with them was the manuscript of the immortal Diary. The following are the directions for the disposition of the library, taken from Harl. MS., No. 7301:
“For the further settlement and preservation of my said library,
after the death of my nephew. John Jackson, I do hereby declare,
That could I be sure of a constant succession of heirs from my said
nephew, qualified like himself for the use of such a library, I
should not entertain a thought of its ever being alienated from
them. But this uncertainty considered, with the infinite pains, and
time, and cost employed in my collecting, methodising and reducing
the same to the state it now is, I cannot but be greatly solicitous
that all possible provision should be made for its unalterable
preservation and perpetual security against the ordinary fate of
such collections falling into the hands of an incompetent heir, and
thereby being sold, dissipated, or embezzled. And since it has
pleased God to visit me in a manner that leaves little appearance of
being myself restored to a condition of concerting the necessary
measures for attaining these ends, I must and do with great
confidence rely upon the sincerity and direction of my executor and
said nephew for putting in execution the powers given them, by my
forementioned will relating hereto, requiring that the same be
brought to a determination in twelve months after my decease, and
that special regard be had therein to the following particulars
which I declare to be my present thoughts and prevailing
inclinations in this matter, viz.:
“1. That after the death of my said nephew, my said library be
placed and for ever settled in one of our universities, and rather
in that of Cambridge than Oxford.
“2. And rather in a private college there, than in the public
library.
“3. And in the colleges of Trinity or Magdalen preferably to all
others.
“4. And of these too, ‘caeteris paribus’, rather in the latter, for
the sake of my own and my nephew’s education therein.
“5. That in which soever of the two it is, a fair roome be provided
therein.
“6. And if in Trinity, that the said roome be contiguous to, and
have communication with, the new library there.
“7. And if in Magdalen, that it be in the new building there, and
any part thereof at my nephew’s election.
“8. That my said library be continued in its present form and no
other books mixed therein, save what my nephew may add to theirs of
his own collecting, in distinct presses.
“9. That the said room and books so placed and adjusted be called
by the name of ‘Bibliotheca Pepysiana.’
“10. That this ‘Bibliotheca Pepysiana’ be under the sole power and
custody of the master of the college for the time being, who shall
neither himself convey, nor suffer to be conveyed by others, any of
the said books from thence to any other place, except to his own
lodge in the said college, nor there have more than ten of them at a
time; and that of those also a strict entry be made and account
kept, at the time of their having been taken out and returned, in a
book to be provided, and remain in the said library for that purpose
only.
“11. That before my said library be put into the possession of
either of the said colleges, that college for which it shall be
designed, first enter into covenants for performance of the
foregoing articles.
“12. And that for a yet further security herein, the said two
colleges of Trinity and Magdalen have a reciprocal check upon one
another; and that college which shall be in present possession of
the said library, be subject to an annual visitation from the other,
and to the forfeiture thereof to the life, possession, and use of
the other, upon conviction of any breach of their said covenants.
“S. PEPYS.”
The library and the original book-cases were not transferred to Magdalene College until 1724, and there they have been preserved in safety ever since.
A large number of Pepys’s manuscripts appear to have remained unnoticed in York Buildings for some years. They never came into Jackson’s hands, and were thus lost to Magdalene College. Dr. Rawlinson afterwards obtained them, and they were included in the bequest of his books to the Bodleian Library.
Pepys was partial to having his portrait taken, and he sat to Savill, Hales, Lely, and Kneller. Hales’s portrait, painted in 1666, is now in the National Portrait Gallery, and an etching from the original forms the frontispiece to this volume. The portrait by Lely is in the Pepysian Library. Of the three portraits by Kneller, one is in the hall of Magdalene College, another at the Royal Society, and the third was lent to the First Special Exhibition of National Portraits, 1866, by the late Mr. Andrew Pepys Cockerell. Several of the portraits have been engraved, but the most interesting of these are those used by Pepys himself as book-plates. These were both engraved by Robert White, and taken from paintings by Kneller.
The church of St. Olave, Hart Street, is intimately associated with Pepys both in his life and in his death, and for many years the question had been constantly asked by visitors, “Where is Pepys’s monument?” On Wednesday, July 5th, 1882, a meeting was held in the vestry of the church, when an influential committee was appointed, upon which all the great institutions with which Pepys was connected were represented by their masters, presidents, or other officers, with the object of taking steps to obtain an adequate memorial of the Diarist. Mr. (now Sir) Alfred Blomfield, architect of the church, presented an appropriate design for a monument, and sufficient subscriptions having been obtained for the purpose, he superintended its erection. On Tuesday afternoon, March 18th, 1884, the monument, which was affixed to the wall of the church where the gallery containing Pepys’s pew formerly stood, was unveiled in the presence of a large concourse of visitors. The Earl of Northbrook, First Lord of the Admiralty, consented to unveil the monument, but he was at the last moment prevented by public business from attending. The late Mr. Russell Lowell, then the American Minister, took Lord Northbrook’s place, and made a very charming and appreciative speech on the occasion, from which the following passages are extracted:—
“It was proper,” his Excellency said, “that he should read a note he
had received from Lord Northbrook. This was dated that day from the
Admiralty, and was as follows:
“‘My dear Mr. Lowell,
“‘I am very much annoyed that I am prevented from assisting at the
ceremony to-day. It would be very good if you would say that
nothing but very urgent business would have kept me away. I was
anxious to give my testimony to the merits of Pepys as an Admiralty
official, leaving his literary merits to you. He was concerned with
the administration of the Navy from the Restoration to the
Revolution, and from 1673 as secretary. I believe his merits to be
fairly stated in a contemporary account, which I send.
“‘Yours very truly,
“‘NORTHBROOK.
“The contemporary account, which Lord Northbrook was good enough to
send him, said:
“‘Pepys was, without exception, the greatest and most useful
Minister that ever filled the same situations in England, the acts
and registers of the Admiralty proving this beyond contradiction.
The principal rules and establishments in present use in these
offices are well known to have been of his introducing, and most of
the officers serving therein since the Restoration, of his bringing-
up. He was a most studious promoter and strenuous asserter of order
and discipline. Sobriety, diligence, capacity, loyalty, and
subjection to command were essentials required in all whom he
advanced. Where any of these were found wanting, no interest or
authority was capable of moving him in favour of the highest
pretender. Discharging his duty to his Prince and country with a
religious application and perfect integrity, he feared no one,
courted no one, and neglected his own fortune.’
“That was a character drawn, it was true, by a friendly hand, but to
those who were familiar with the life of Pepys, the praise hardly
seemed exaggerated. As regarded his official life, it was
unnecessary to dilate upon his peculiar merits, for they all knew
how faithful he was in his duties, and they all knew, too, how many
faithful officials there were working on in obscurity, who were not
only never honoured with a monument but who never expected one. The
few words, Mr. Lowell went on to remark, which he was expected to
say upon that occasion, therefore, referred rather to what he
believed was the true motive which had brought that assembly
together, and that was by no means the character of Pepys either as
Clerk of the Acts or as Secretary to the Admiralty. This was not
the place in which one could go into a very close examination of the
character of Pepys as a private man. He would begin by admitting
that Pepys was a type, perhaps, of what was now called a
‘Philistine’. We had no word in England which was equivalent to the
French adjective Bourgeois; but, at all events, Samuel Pepys was the
most perfect type that ever existed of the class of people whom this
word described. He had all its merits as well as many of its
defects. With all those defects, however perhaps in consequence of
them—Pepys had written one of the most delightful books that it was
man’s privilege to read in the English language or in any other.
Whether Pepys intended this Diary to be afterwards read by the
general public or not—and this was a doubtful question when it was
considered that he had left, possibly by inadvertence, a key to his
cypher behind him—it was certain that he had left with us a most
delightful picture, or rather he had left the power in our hands of
drawing for ourselves some, of the most delightful pictures, of the
time in which he lived. There was hardly any book which was
analogous to it..... If one were asked what were the reasons
for liking Pepys, it would be found that they were as numerous as
the days upon which he made an entry in his Diary, and surely that
was sufficient argument in his favour. There was no book, Mr.
Lowell said, that he knew of, or that occurred to his memory, with
which Pepys’s Diary could fairly be compared, except the journal of
L’Estoile, who had the same anxious curiosity and the same
commonness, not to say vulgarity of interest, and the book was
certainly unique in one respect, and that was the absolute sincerity
of the author with himself. Montaigne is conscious that we are
looking over his shoulder, and Rousseau secretive in comparison with
him. The very fact of that sincerity of the author with himself
argued a certain greatness of character. Dr. Hickes, who attended
Pepys at his deathbed, spoke of him as ‘this great man,’ and said he
knew no one who died so greatly. And yet there was something almost
of the ridiculous in the statement when the ‘greatness’ was compared
with the garrulous frankness which Pepys showed towards himself.
There was no parallel to the character of Pepys, he believed, in
respect of ‘naivete’, unless it were found in that of Falstaff, and
Pepys showed himself, too, like Falstaff, on terms of unbuttoned
familiarity with himself. Falstaff had just the same ‘naivete’, but
in Falstaff it was the ‘naivete’ of conscious humour. In Pepys it
was quite different, for Pepys’s ‘naivete’ was the inoffensive
vanity of a man who loved to see himself in the glass. Falstaff had
a sense, too, of inadvertent humour, but it was questionable whether
Pepys could have had any sense of humour at all, and yet permitted
himself to be so delightful. There was probably, however, more
involuntary humour in Pepys’s Diary than there was in any other book
extant. When he told his readers of the landing of Charles II. at
Dover, for instance, it would be remembered how Pepys chronicled the
fact that the Mayor of Dover presented the Prince with a Bible, for
which he returned his thanks and said it was the ‘most precious Book
to him in the world.’ Then, again, it would be remembered how, when
he received a letter addressed ‘Samuel Pepys, Esq.,’ he confesses in
the Diary that this pleased him mightily. When, too, he kicked his
cookmaid, he admits that he was not sorry for it, but was sorry that
the footboy of a worthy knight with whom he was acquainted saw him
do it. And the last instance he would mention of poor Pepys’s
‘naivete’ was when he said in the Diary that he could not help
having a certain pleasant and satisfied feeling when Barlow died.
Barlow, it must be remembered, received during his life the yearly
sum from Pepys of L100. The value of Pepys’s book was simply
priceless, and while there was nothing in it approaching that single
page in St. Simon where he described that thunder of courtierly red
heels passing from one wing of the Palace to another as the Prince
was lying on his death-bed, and favour was to flow from another
source, still Pepys’s Diary was unequalled in its peculiar quality
of amusement. The lightest part of the Diary was of value,
historically, for it enabled one to see London of 200 years ago,
and, what was more, to see it with the eager eyes of Pepys. It was
not Pepys the official who had brought that large gathering together
that day in honour of his memory: it was Pepys the Diarist.”
In concluding this account of the chief particulars of Pepys’s life it may be well to add a few words upon the pronunciation of his name. Various attempts appear to have been made to represent this phonetically. Lord Braybrooke, in quoting the entry of death from St. Olave’s Registers, where the spelling is “Peyps,” wrote, “This is decisive as to the proper pronunciation of the name.” This spelling may show that the name was pronounced as a monosyllable, but it is scarcely conclusive as to anything else, and Lord Braybrooke does not say what he supposes the sound of the vowels to have been. At present there are three pronunciations in use—Peps, which is the most usual; Peeps, which is the received one at Magdalene College, and Peppis, which I learn from Mr. Walter C. Pepys is the one used by other branches of the family. Mr. Pepys has paid particular attention to this point, and in his valuable “Genealogy of the Pepys Family” (1887) he has collected seventeen varieties of spelling of the name, which are as follows, the dates of the documents in which the form appears being attached:
1. Pepis (1273); 2. Pepy (1439); 3. Pypys (1511); 4. Pipes (1511); 5. Peppis (1518); 6. Peppes (1519); 7. Pepes (1520); 8. Peppys (1552); 9. Peaps (1636); 10. Pippis (1639); 11. Peapys (1653); 12. Peps (1655); 13. Pypes (1656); 14. Peypes (1656); 15. Peeps (1679); 16. Peepes (1683); 17. Peyps (1703). Mr. Walter Pepys adds:—
“The accepted spelling of the name ‘Pepys’ was adopted generally
about the end of the seventeenth century, though it occurs many
years before that time. There have been numerous ways of
pronouncing the name, as ‘Peps,’ ‘Peeps,’ and ‘Peppis.’ The
Diarist undoubtedly pronounced it ‘Peeps,’ and the lineal
descendants of his sister Paulina, the family of ‘Pepys Cockerell’
pronounce it so to this day. The other branches of the family all
pronounce it as ‘Peppis,’ and I am led to be satisfied that the
latter pronunciation is correct by the two facts that in the
earliest known writing it is spelt ‘Pepis,’ and that the French form
of the name is ‘Pepy.’”
The most probable explanation is that the name in the seventeenth century was either pronounced ‘Pips’ or ‘Papes’; for both the forms ‘ea’ and ‘ey’ would represent the latter pronunciation. The general change in the pronunciation of the spelling ‘ea’ from ‘ai’ to ‘ee’ took place in a large number of words at the end of the seventeenth and beginning of the eighteenth-century, and three words at least (yea, break, and great) keep this old pronunciation still. The present Irish pronunciation of English is really the same as the English pronunciation of the seventeenth century, when the most extensive settlement of Englishmen in Ireland took place, and the Irish always pronounce ea like ai (as, He gave him a nate bating—neat beating). Again, the ‘ey’ of Peyps would rhyme with they and obey. English literature is full of illustrations of the old pronunciation of ea, as in “Hudibras;”
“Doubtless the pleasure is as great
In being cheated as to cheat,”
which was then a perfect rhyme. In the “Rape of the Lock” tea (tay) rhymes with obey, and in Cowper’s verses on Alexander Selkirk sea rhymes with survey.’ It is not likely that the pronunciation of the name was fixed, but there is every reason to suppose that the spellings of Peyps and Peaps were intended to represent the sound Pepes rather than Peeps.
In spite of all the research which has brought to light so many incidents of interest in the life of Samuel Pepys, we cannot but feel how dry these facts are when placed by the side of the living details of the Diary. It is in its pages that the true man is displayed, and it has therefore not been thought necessary here to do more than set down in chronological order such facts as are known of the life outside the Diary. A fuller “appreciation” of the man must be left for some future occasion.
H. B. W.
JANUARY 1659-1660
[The year did not legally begin in England before the 25th March
until the act for altering the style fixed the 1st of January as the
first day of the year, and previous to 1752 the year extended from
March 25th to the following March 24th. Thus since 1752 we have
been in the habit of putting the two dates for the months of January
and February and March 1 to 24—in all years previous to 1752.
Practically, however, many persons considered the year to commence
with January 1st, as it will be seen Pepys did. The 1st of January
was considered as New Year’s day long before Pepys’s time. The
fiscal year has not been altered; and the national accounts are
still reckoned from old Lady Day, which falls on the 6th of April.]
Blessed be God, at the end of the last year I was in very good health, without any sense of my old pain, but upon taking of cold.
[Pepys was successfully cut for the stone on March 26th, 1658. See
March 26th below. Although not suffering from this cause again
until the end of his life, there are frequent references in the
Diary to pain whenever he caught cold. In a letter from Pepys to
his nephew Jackson, April 8th, 1700, there is a reference to the
breaking out three years before his death of the wound caused by the
cutting for the stone: “It has been my calamity for much the
greatest part of this time to have been kept bedrid, under an evil
so rarely known as to have had it matter of universal surprise and
with little less general opinion of its dangerousness; namely, that
the cicatrice of a wound occasioned upon my cutting for the stone,
without hearing anything of it in all this time, should after more
than 40 years’ perfect cure, break out again.” At the post-mortem
examination a nest of seven stones, weighing four and a half ounces,
was found in the left kidney, which was entirely ulcerated.]
I lived in Axe Yard,
[Pepys’s house was on the south side of King Street, Westminster;
it is singular that when he removed to a residence in the city, he
should have settled close to another Axe Yard. Fludyer Street
stands on the site of Axe Yard, which derived its name from a great
messuage or brewhouse on the west side of King Street, called “The
Axe,” and referred to in a document of the 23rd of Henry VIII—B.]
having my wife, and servant Jane, and no more in family than us three. My wife.... gave me hopes of her being with child, but on the last day of the year....[the hope was belied.]
[Ed. note:.... are used to denote censored passages]
The condition of the State was thus; viz. the Rump, after being disturbed by my Lord Lambert,
[John Lambert, major-general in the Parliamentary army. The title
Lord was not his by right, but it was frequently given to the
republican officers. He was born in 1619, at Calton Hall, in the
parish of Kirkby-in-Malham-Dale, in the West Riding of Yorkshire.
In 1642 he was appointed captain of horse under Fairfax, and acted
as major-general to Cromwell in 1650 during the war in Scotland.
After this Parliament conferred on him a grant of lands in Scotland
worth L1000 per annum. He refused to take the oath of allegiance to
Cromwell, for which the Protector deprived him of his commission.
After Cromwell’s death he tried to set up a military government.
The Commons cashiered Lambert, Desborough, and other officers,
October 12th, 1659, but Lambert retaliated by thrusting out the
Commons, and set out to meet Monk. His men fell away from him, and
he was sent to the Tower, March 3rd, 1660, but escaped. In 1662 he
was tried on a charge of high treason and condemned, but his life
was spared. It is generally stated that he passed the remainder of
his life in the island of Guernsey, but this is proved to be
incorrect by a MS. in the Plymouth Athenaeum, entitled “Plimmouth
Memoirs collected by James Yonge, 1684” This will be seen from the
following extracts quoted by Mr. R. J. King, in “Notes and Queries,”
“1667 Lambert the arch-rebel brought to this island [St. Nicholas,
at the entrance of Plymouth harbour].” “1683 Easter day Lambert
that olde rebell dyed this winter on Plimmouth Island where he had
been prisoner 15 years and more.”]
was lately returned to sit again. The officers of the Army all forced to yield. Lawson
[Sir John Lawson, the son of a poor man at Hull, entered the navy as
a common sailor, rose to the rank of admiral, and distinguished
himself during the Protectorate. Though a republican, he readily
closed with the design of restoring the King. He was vice-admiral
under the Earl of Sandwich, and commanded the “London” in the
squadron which conveyed Charles II. to England. He was mortally
wounded in the action with the Dutch off Harwich, June, 1665. He
must not be confounded with another John Lawson, the Royalist, of
Brough Hall, in Yorkshire, who was created a Baronet by Charles II,
July 6th, 1665.]
lies still in the river, and Monk—[George Monk, born 1608, created Duke of Albemarle, 1660, married Ann Clarges, March, 1654, died January 3rd, 1676.]—is with his army in Scotland. Only my Lord Lambert is not yet come into the Parliament, nor is it expected that he will without being forced to it. The new Common Council of the City do speak very high; and had sent to Monk their sword-bearer, to acquaint him with their desires for a free and full Parliament, which is at present the desires, and the hopes, and expectation of all. Twenty-two of the old secluded members
[“The City sent and invited him [Monk] to dine the next day at
Guildhall, and there he declared for the members whom the army had
forced away in year forty-seven and forty-eight, who were known by
the names of secluded members.”—Burnet’s Hist. of his Own Time,
book i.]
having been at the House-door the last week to demand entrance, but it was denied them; and it is believed that [neither] they nor the people will be satisfied till the House be filled. My own private condition very handsome, and esteemed rich, but indeed very poor; besides my goods of my house, and my office, which at present is somewhat uncertain. Mr. Downing master of my office.
[George Downing was one of the Four Tellers of the Receipt of the
Exchequer, and in his office Pepys was a clerk. He was the son of
Emmanuel Downing of the Inner Temple, afterwards of Salem,
Massachusetts, and of Lucy, sister of Governor John Winthrop. He is
supposed to have been born in August, 1623. He and his parents went
to New England in 1638, and he was the second graduate of Harvard
College. He returned to England about 1645, and acted as Colonel
Okey’s chaplain before he entered into political life. Anthony a
Wood (who incorrectly describes him as the son of Dr. Calybute
Downing, vicar of Hackney) calls Downing a sider with all times and
changes: skilled in the common cant, and a preacher occasionally.
He was sent by Cromwell to Holland in 1657, as resident there. At
the Restoration, he espoused the King’s cause, and was knighted and
elected M.P. for Morpeth, in 1661. Afterwards, becoming
Secretary to the Treasury and Commissioner of the Customs, he was in
1663 created a Baronet of East Hatley, in Cambridgeshire, and was
again sent Ambassador to Holland. His grandson of the same name,
who died in 1749, was the founder of Downing College, Cambridge.
The title became extinct in 1764, upon the decease of Sir John
Gerrard Downing, the last heir-male of the family. Sir George
Downing’s character will be found in Lord Clarendon’s “Life,” vol.
iii. p. 4. Pepys’s opinion seems to be somewhat of a mixed kind.
He died in July, 1684.]
Jan. 1st (Lord’s day). This morning (we living lately in the garret,) I rose, put on my suit with great skirts, having not lately worn any other, clothes but them. Went to Mr. Gunning’s
[Peter Gunning, afterwards Master of St. John’s College, Cambridge,
and successively Bishop of Chichester and Ely. He had continued to
read the Liturgy at the chapel at Exeter House when the Parliament
was most predominant, for which Cromwell often rebuked him. Evelyn
relates that on Christmas Day, 1657, the chapel was surrounded with
soldiers, and the congregation taken prisoners, he and his wife
being among them. There are several notices of Dr. Gunning in
Evelyn’s Diary. When he obtained the mastership of St. John’s
College upon the ejection of Dr. Tuckney, he allowed that
Nonconformist divine a handsome annuity during his life. He was a
great controversialist, and a man of great reading. Burnet says he
“was a very honest sincere man, but of no sound judgment, and of no
prudence in affairs” (“Hist. of his Own. Time”). He died July 6th,
1684, aged seventy-one.]
chapel at Exeter House, where he made a very good sermon upon these words:—“That in the fulness of time God sent his Son, made of a woman,” &c.; showing, that, by “made under the law,” is meant his circumcision, which is solemnized this day. Dined at home in the garret, where my wife dressed the remains of a turkey, and in the doing of it she burned her hand. I staid at home all the afternoon, looking over my accounts; then went with my wife to my father’s, and in going observed the great posts which the City have set up at the Conduit in Fleet-street. Supt at my father’s, where in came Mrs. The. Turner—[Theophila Turner, daughter of Sergeant John and Jane Turner, who married Sir Arthur Harris, Bart. She died 1686.]—and Madam Morrice, and supt with us. After that my wife and I went home with them, and so to our own home.
2nd. In the morning before I went forth old East brought me a dozen of bottles of sack, and I gave him a shilling for his pains. Then I went to Mr. Sheply,—[Shepley was a servant of Admiral Sir Edward Montagu]—who was drawing of sack in the wine cellar to send to other places as a gift from my Lord, and told me that my Lord had given him order to give me the dozen of bottles. Thence I went to the Temple to speak with Mr. Calthropp about the L60 due to my Lord,
[Sir Edward Montagu, born 1625, son of Sir Sidney Montagu, by
Paulina, daughter of John Pepys of Cottenham, married Jemima,
daughter of John Crew of Stene. He died in action against the Dutch
in Southwold Bay, May 28th, 1672. The title of “My Lord” here
applied to Montagu before he was created Earl of Sandwich is of the
same character as that given to General Lambert.]
but missed of him, he being abroad. Then I went to Mr. Crew’s
[John Crew, born 1598, eldest son of Sir Thomas Crew, Sergeant-at-
Law and Speaker of the House of Commons. He sat for Brackley in the
Long Parliament. Created Baron Crew of Stene, in the county of
Northampton, at the coronation of Charles II. He married Jemima,
daughter and co-heir of Edward Walgrave (or Waldegrave) of Lawford,
Essex. His house was in Lincoln’s Inn Fields. He died December
12th, 1679.]
and borrowed L10 of Mr. Andrewes for my own use, and so went to my office, where there was nothing to do. Then I walked a great while in Westminster Hall, where I heard that Lambert was coming up to London; that my Lord Fairfax
[Thomas, Lord Fairfax, Generalissimo of the Parliament forces.
After the Restoration, he retired to his country seat, where he
lived in private till his death, 1671. In a volume (autograph) of
Lord Fairfax’s Poems, preserved in the British Museum, 11744, f. 42,
the following lines occur upon the 30th of January, on which day the
King was beheaded. It is believed that they have never been
printed.
“O let that day from time be bloted quitt,
And beleef of ‘t in next age be waved,
In depest silence that act concealed might,
That so the creadet of our nation might be saved;
But if the powre devine hath ordered this,
His will’s the law, and our must aquiess.”
These wretched verses have obviously no merit; but they are curious
as showing that Fairfax, who had refused to act as one of Charles
I’s judges; continued long afterwards to entertain a proper horror
for that unfortunate monarch’s fate. It has recently been pointed
out to me, that the lines were not originally composed by Fairfax,
being only a poor translation of the spirited lines of Statius
(Sylvarum lib. v. cap. ii. l. 88)
“Excidat illa dies aevo, ne postera credant
Secula, nos certe taceamus; et obruta multa
Nocte tegi propria patiamur crimina gentis.”
These verses were first applied by the President de Thou to the
massacre of St. Bartholomew, 1572; and in our day, by Mr. Pitt, in
his memorable speech in the House of Commons, January, 1793, after
the murder of Louis XVI.—B.]
was in the head of the Irish brigade, but it was not certain what he would declare for. The House was to-day upon finishing the act for the Council of State, which they did; and for the indemnity to the soldiers; and were to sit again thereupon in the afternoon. Great talk that many places have declared for a free Parliament; and it is believed that they will be forced to fill up the House with the old members. From the Hall I called at home, and so went to Mr. Crew’s (my wife she was to go to her father’s), thinking to have dined, but I came too late, so Mr. Moore and I and another gentleman went out and drank a cup of ale together in the new market, and there I eat some bread and cheese for my dinner. After that Mr. Moore and I went as far as Fleet-street together and parted, he going into the City, I to find Mr. Calthrop, but failed again of finding him, so returned to Mr. Crew’s again, and from thence went along with Mrs. Jemimah
[Mrs. Jemimah, or Mrs. Jem, was Jemima, eldest daughter of Sir
Edward Montagu. At this time she and her sister, Mrs. Ann, seem to
have been living alone with their maids in London, and Pepys’s duty
was to look after them.]
home, and there she taught me how to play at cribbage. Then I went home, and finding my wife gone to see Mrs. Hunt, I went to Will’s,
[Pepys constantly visited “Will’s” about this time; but this could
not be the famous coffee-house in Covent Garden, because he mentions
visiting there for the first time, February 3rd, 1663-64. It was
most probably the house of William Joyce, who kept a place of
entertainment at Westminster (see Jan. 29th).]
and there sat with Mr. Ashwell talking and singing till nine o’clock, and so home, there, having not eaten anything but bread and cheese, my wife cut me a slice of brawn which. I received from my Lady;—[Jemima, wife of Sir Edward Montagu, daughter of John Crew of Stene, afterwards Lord Crew.]—which proves as good as ever I had any. So to bed, and my wife had a very bad night of it through wind and cold.
3rd. I went out in the morning, it being a great frost, and walked to Mrs. Turner’s
[Jane, daughter of John Pepys of South Creake, Norfolk, married to
John Turner, Sergeant-at-law, Recorder of York; their only child,
Theophila, frequently mentioned as The. or Theoph., became the wife
of Sir Arthur Harris, Bart., of Stowford, Devon, and died 1686,
s.p.]
to stop her from coming to see me to-day, because of Mrs. Jem’s corning, thence I went to the Temple to speak with Mr. Calthrop, and walked in his chamber an hour, but could not see him, so went to Westminster, where I found soldiers in my office to receive money, and paid it them. At noon went home, where Mrs. Jem, her maid, Mr. Sheply, Hawly, and Moore dined with me on a piece of beef and cabbage, and a collar of brawn. We then fell to cards till dark, and then I went home with Mrs. Jem, and meeting Mr. Hawly got him to bear me company to Chancery Lane, where I spoke with Mr. Calthrop, he told me that Sir James Calthrop was lately dead, but that he would write to his Lady, that the money may be speedily paid. Thence back to White Hall, where I understood that the Parliament had passed the act for indemnity to the soldiers and officers that would come in, in so many days, and that my Lord Lambert should have benefit of the said act. They had also voted that all vacancies in the House, by the death of any of the old members, shall be filled up; but those that are living shall not be called in. Thence I went home, and there found Mr. Hunt and his wife, and Mr. Hawly, who sat with me till ten at night at cards, and so broke up and to bed.
4th. Early came Mr. Vanly—[Mr Vanley appears to have been Pepys’s landlord; he is mentioned again in the Diary on September 20th, 1660.]—to me for his half-year’s rent, which I had not in the house, but took his man to the office and there paid him. Then I went down into the Hall and to Will’s, where Hawly brought a piece of his Cheshire cheese, and we were merry with it. Then into the Hall again, where I met with the Clerk and Quarter Master of my Lord’s troop, and took them to the Swan’ and gave them their morning’s draft,
[It was not usual at this time to sit down to breakfast, but instead
a morning draught was taken at a tavern.]
they being just come to town. Mr. Jenkins shewed me two bills of exchange for money to receive upon my Lord’s and my pay. It snowed hard all this morning, and was very cold, and my nose was much swelled with cold. Strange the difference of men’s talk! Some say that Lambert must of necessity yield up; others, that he is very strong, and that the Fifth-monarchy-men [will] stick to him, if he declares for a free Parliament. Chillington was sent yesterday to him with the vote of pardon and indemnity from the Parliament. From the Hall I came home, where I found letters from Hinchinbroke
[Hinchinbroke was Sir Edward Montagu’s seat, from which he
afterwards took his second title. Hinchinbroke House, so often
mentioned in the Diary, stood about half a mile to the westward of
the town of Huntingdon. It was erected late in the reign of
Elizabeth, by Sir Henry Cromwell, on the site of a Benedictine
nunnery, granted at the Dissolution, with all its appurtenances, to
his father, Richard Williams, who had assumed the name of Cromwell,
and whose grandson, Sir Oliver, was the uncle and godfather of the
Protector. The knight, who was renowned for, his hospitality, had
the honour of entertaining King James at Hinchinbroke, but, getting
into pecuniary difficulties, was obliged to sell his estates, which
were conveyed, July 28th, 1627, to Sir Sidney Montagu of Barnwell,
father of the first Earl of Sandwich, in whose descendant they are
still vested. On the morning of the 22nd January, 1830, during the
minority of the seventh Earl, Hinchinbroke was almost entirely
destroyed by fire, but the pictures and furniture were mostly saved,
and the house has been rebuilt in the Elizabethan style, and the
interior greatly improved, under the direction of Edward Blore,
Esq., R.A.—B.]
and news of Mr. Sheply’s going thither the next week. I dined at home, and from thence went to Will’s to Shaw, who promised me to go along with me to Atkinson’s about some money, but I found him at cards with Spicer and D. Vines, and could not get him along with me. I was vext at this, and went and walked in the Hall, where I heard that the Parliament spent this day in fasting and prayer; and in the afternoon came letters from the North, that brought certain news that my Lord Lambent his forces were all forsaking him, and that he was left with only fifty horse, and that he did now declare for the Parliament himself; and that my Lord Fairfax did also rest satisfied, and had laid down his arms, and that what he had done was only to secure the country against my Lord Lambert his raising of money, and free quarter. I went to Will’s again, where I found them still at cards, and Spicer had won 14s. of Shaw and Vines. Then I spent a little time with G. Vines and Maylard at Vines’s at our viols.
[It was usual to have a “chest of viols,” which consisted of six,
viz., two trebles, two tenors, and two basses (see note in North’s
“Memoirs of Musick,” ed. Rimbault, p. 70). The bass viol was also
called the ‘viola da gamba’, because it was held between the legs.]
So home, and from thence to Mr. Hunt’s, and sat with them and Mr. Hawly at cards till ten at night, and was much made of by them. Home and so to bed, but much troubled with my nose, which was much swelled.
5th. I went to my office, where the money was again expected from the Excise office, but none brought, but was promised to be sent this afternoon. I dined with Mr. Sheply, at my Lord’s lodgings, upon his turkey-pie. And so to my office again; where the Excise money was brought, and some of it told to soldiers till it was dark. Then I went home, and after writing a letter to my Lord and told him the news that the Parliament hath this night voted that the members that were discharged from sitting in the years 1648 and 49, were duly discharged; and that there should be writs issued presently for the calling of others in their places, and that Monk and Fairfax were commanded up to town, and that the Prince’s lodgings were to be provided for Monk at Whitehall. Then my wife and I, it being a great frost, went to Mrs. Jem’s, in expectation to eat a sack-posset, but Mr. Edward—[Edward Montage, son of Sir Edward, and afterwards Lord Hinchinbroke.]—not coming it was put off; and so I left my wife playing at cards with her, and went myself with my lanthorn to Mr. Fage, to consult concerning my nose, who told me it was nothing but cold, and after that we did discourse concerning public business; and he told me it is true the City had not time enough to do much, but they are resolved to shake off the soldiers; and that unless there be a free Parliament chosen, he did believe there are half the Common Council will not levy any money by order of this Parliament. From thence I went to my father’s, where I found Mrs. Ramsey and her grandchild, a pretty girl, and staid a while and talked with them and my mother, and then took my leave, only heard of an invitation to go to dinner to-morrow to my cosen Thomas Pepys.—[Thomas Pepys, probably the son of Thomas Pepys of London (born, 1595), brother of Samuel’s father, John Pepys.]—I went back to Mrs. Jem, and took my wife and Mrs. Sheply, and went home.
6th. This morning Mr. Sheply and I did eat our breakfast at Mrs. Harper’s, (my brother John’ being with me,)
[John Pepys was born in 1641, and his brother Samuel took great
interest in his welfare, but he did not do any great credit to his
elder.]
upon a cold turkey-pie and a goose. From thence I went to my office, where we paid money to the soldiers till one o’clock, at which time we made an end, and I went home and took my wife and went to my cosen, Thomas Pepys, and found them just sat down to dinner, which was very good; only the venison pasty was palpable beef, which was not handsome. After dinner I took my leave, leaving my wife with my cozen Stradwick,—[Elizabeth, daughter of Richard Pepys, Lord Chief Justice of Ireland, and wife of Thomas Stradwick.]—and went to Westminster to Mr. Vines, where George and I fiddled a good while, Dick and his wife (who was lately brought to bed) and her sister being there, but Mr. Hudson not coming according to his promise, I went away, and calling at my house on the wench, I took her and the lanthorn with me to my cosen Stradwick, where, after a good supper, there being there my father, mother, brothers, and sister, my cosen Scott and his wife, Mr. Drawwater and his wife, and her brother, Mr. Stradwick, we had a brave cake brought us, and in the choosing, Pall was Queen and Mr. Stradwick was King. After that my wife and I bid adieu and came home, it being still a great frost.
7th. At my office as I was receiving money of the probate of wills, in came Mrs. Turner, Theoph., Madame Morrice, and Joyce, and after I had done I took them home to my house and Mr. Hawly came after, and I got a dish of steaks and a rabbit for them, while they were playing a game or two at cards. In the middle of our dinner a messenger from Mr. Downing came to fetch me to him, so leaving Mr. Hawly there, I went and was forced to stay till night in expectation of the French Embassador, who at last came, and I had a great deal of good discourse with one of his gentlemen concerning the reason of the difference between the zeal of the French and the Spaniard. After he was gone I went home, and found my friends still at cards, and after that I went along with them to Dr. Whores (sending my wife to Mrs. Jem’s to a sack-posset), where I heard some symphony and songs of his own making, performed by Mr. May, Harding, and Mallard. Afterwards I put my friends into a coach, and went to Mrs. Jem’s, where I wrote a letter to my Lord by the post, and had my part of the posset which was saved for me, and so we went home, and put in at my Lord’s lodgings, where we staid late, eating of part of his turkey-pie, and reading of Quarles’ Emblems. So home and to bed.
8th (Sunday). In the morning I went to Mr. Gunning’s, where a good sermon, wherein he showed the life of Christ, and told us good authority for us to believe that Christ did follow his father’s trade, and was a carpenter till thirty years of age. From thence to my father’s to dinner, where I found my wife, who was forced to dine there, we not having one coal of fire in the house, and it being very hard frosty weather. In the afternoon my father, he going to a man’s to demand some money due to my Aunt Bells my wife and I went to Mr. Mossum’s, where a strange doctor made a very good sermon. From thence sending my wife to my father’s, I went to Mrs. Turner’s, and staid a little while, and then to my father’s, where I found Mr. Sheply, and after supper went home together. Here I heard of the death of Mr. Palmer, and that he was to be buried at Westminster tomorrow.
9th. For these two or three days I have been much troubled with thoughts how to get money to pay them that I have borrowed money of, by reason of my money being in my uncle’s hands. I rose early this morning, and looked over and corrected my brother John’s speech, which he is to make the next apposition,—[Declamations at St. Paul’s School, in which there were opponents and respondents.]—and after that I went towards my office, and in my way met with W. Simons, Muddiman, and Jack Price, and went with them to Harper’s and in many sorts of talk I staid till two of the clock in the afternoon. I found Muddiman a good scholar, an arch rogue; and owns that though he writes new books for the Parliament, yet he did declare that he did it only to get money; and did talk very basely of many of them. Among other things, W. Simons told me how his uncle Scobel was on Saturday last called to the bar, for entering in the journal of the House, for the year 1653, these words: “This day his Excellence the Lord General Cromwell dissolved this House;” which words the Parliament voted a forgery, and demanded of him how they came to be entered. He answered that they were his own handwriting, and that he did it by virtue of his office, and the practice of his predecessor; and that the intent of the practice was to—let posterity know how such and such a Parliament was dissolved, whether by the command of the King, or by their own neglect, as the last House of Lords was; and that to this end, he had said and writ that it was dissolved by his Excellence the Lord G[eneral]; and that for the word dissolved, he never at the time did hear of any other term; and desired pardon if he would not dare to make a word himself when it was six years after, before they came themselves to call it an interruption; but they were so little satisfied with this answer, that they did chuse a committee to report to the House, whether this crime of Mr. Scobell’s did come within the act of indemnity or no. Thence I went with Muddiman to the Coffee-House, and gave 18d. to be entered of the Club. Thence into the Hall, where I heard for certain that Monk was coming to London, and that Bradshaw’s 2 lodgings were preparing for him. Thence to Mrs. Jem’s, and found her in bed, and she was afraid that it would prove the small-pox. Thence back to Westminster Hall, where I heard how Sir H. Vane—[Sir Harry Vane the younger, an inflexible republican. He was executed in 1662, on a charge of conspiring the death of Charles I.]—was this day voted out of the House, and to sit no more there; and that he would retire himself to his house at Raby, as also all the rest of the nine officers that had their commissions formerly taken away from them, were commanded to their farthest houses from London during the pleasure of the Parliament. Here I met with the Quarter Master of my Lord’s troop, and his clerk Mr. Jenings, and took them home, and gave them a bottle of wine, and the remainder of my collar of brawn; and so good night. After that came in Mr. Hawly, who told me that I was mist this day at my office, and that to-morrow I must pay all the money that I have, at which I was put to a great loss how I should get money to make up my cash, and so went to bed in great trouble.
10th. Went out early, and in my way met with Greatorex,—[Ralph Greatorex, the well-known mathematical instrument maker of his day. He is frequently mentioned by Pepys.]—and at an alehouse he showed me the first sphere of wire that ever he made, and indeed it was very pleasant; thence to Mr. Crew’s, and borrowed L10, and so to my office, and was able to pay my money. Thence into the Hall, and meeting the Quarter Master, Jenings, and Captain Rider, we four went to a cook’s to dinner. Thence Jenings and I into London (it being through heat of the sun a great thaw and dirty) to show our bills of return, and coming back drank a pint of wine at the Star in Cheapside. So to Westminster, overtaking Captain Okeshott in his silk cloak, whose sword got hold of many people in walking. Thence to the Coffee-house, where were a great confluence of gentlemen; viz. Mr. Harrington, Poultny, chairman, Gold, Dr. Petty; &c., where admirable discourse till at night. Thence with Doling to Mother Lams, who told me how this day Scott
[Thomas Scott, M.P., was made Secretary of State to the Commonwealth
on the 17th of this same January. He signed the death warrant of
Charles I., for which he was executed at Charing Cross, October
16th, 1660. He gloried in his offence, and desired to have written
on his tombstone, “Thomas Scott who adjudged to death the late
king.”]
was made Intelligencer, and that the rest of the members that were objected against last night, their business was to be heard this day se’nnight. Thence I went home and wrote a letter, and went to Harper’s, and staid there till Tom carried it to the postboy at Whitehall. So home to bed.
11th. Being at Will’s with Captain Barker, who hath paid me L300 this morning at my office, in comes my father, and with him I walked, and leave him at W. Joyce’s, and went myself to Mr. Crew’s, but came too late to dine, and therefore after a game at shittle-cocks—[The game of battledore and shuttlecock was formerly much played even in tennis courts, and was a very violent game.]—with Mr. Walgrave and Mr. Edward, I returned to my father, and taking him from W. Joyce’s, who was not abroad himself, we inquired of a porter, and by his direction went to an alehouse, where after a cup or two we parted. I went towards London, and in my way went in to see Crowly, who was now grown a very great loon and very tame. Thence to Mr. Steven’s with a pair of silver snuffers, and bought a pair of shears to cut silver, and so homeward again. From home I went to see Mrs. Jem, who was in bed, and now granted to have the small-pox. Back again, and went to the Coffee-house, but tarried not, and so home.
12th. I drink my morning at Harper’s with Mr. Sheply and a seaman, and so to my office, where Captain Holland came to see me, and appointed a meeting in the afternoon. Then wrote letters to Hinchinbroke and sealed them at Will’s, and after that went home, and thence to the Half Moon, where I found the Captain and Mr. Billingsly and Newman, a barber, where we were very merry, and had the young man that plays so well on the Welsh harp. Billingsly paid for all. Thence home, and finding my letters this day not gone by the carrier I new sealed them, but my brother Tom coming we fell into discourse about my intention to feast the Joyces. I sent for a bit of meat for him from the cook’s, and forgot to send my letters this night. So I went to bed, and in discourse broke to my wife what my thoughts were concerning my design of getting money by, &c.
13th. Coming in the morning to my office, I met with Mr. Fage and took him to the Swan? He told me how high Haselrigge, and Morly, the last night began at my Lord Mayor’s to exclaim against the City of London, saying that they had forfeited their charter. And how the Chamberlain of the City did take them down, letting them know how much they were formerly beholding to the City, &c. He also told me that Monk’s letter that came to them by the sword-bearer was a cunning piece, and that which they did not much trust to; but they were resolved to make no more applications to the Parliament, nor to pay any money, unless the secluded members be brought in, or a free Parliament chosen. Thence to my office, where nothing to do. So to Will’s with Mr. Pinkney, who invited me to their feast at his Hall the next Monday. Thence I went home and took my wife and dined at Mr. Wades, and after that we went and visited Catan. From thence home again, and my wife was very unwilling to let me go forth, but with some discontent would go out if I did, and I going forth towards Whitehall, I saw she followed me, and so I staid and took her round through Whitehall, and so carried her home angry. Thence I went to Mrs. Jem, and found her up and merry, and that it did not prove the small-pox, but only the swine-pox; so I played a game or two at cards with her. And so to Mr. Vines, where he and I and Mr. Hudson played half-a-dozen things, there being there Dick’s wife and her sister. After that I went home and found my wife gone abroad to Mr. Hunt’s, and came in a little after me.—So to bed.
14th. Nothing to do at our office. Thence into the Hall, and just as I was going to dinner from Westminster Hall with Mr. Moore (with whom I had been in the lobby to hear news, and had spoke with Sir Anthony Ashley Cooper about my Lord’s lodgings) to his house, I met with Captain Holland, who told me that he hath brought his wife to my house, so I posted home and got a dish of meat for them. They staid with me all the afternoon, and went hence in the evening. Then I went with my wife, and left her at market, and went myself to the Coffee-house, and heard exceeding good argument against Mr. Harrington’s assertion, that overbalance of propriety [i.e., property] was the foundation of government. Home, and wrote to Hinchinbroke, and sent that and my other letter that missed of going on Thursday last. So to bed.
15th. Having been exceedingly disturbed in the night with the barking of a dog of one of our neighbours that I could not sleep for an hour or two, I slept late, and then in the morning took physic, and so staid within all day. At noon my brother John came to me, and I corrected as well as I could his Greek speech to say the Apposition, though I believe he himself was as well able to do it as myself. After that we went to read in the great Officiale about the blessing of bells in the Church of Rome. After that my wife and I in pleasant discourse till night, then I went to supper, and after that to make an end of this week’s notes in this book, and so to bed. It being a cold day and a great snow my physic did not work so well as it should have done.
16th. In the morning I went up to Mr. Crew’s, and at his bedside he gave me direction to go to-morrow with Mr. Edward to Twickenham, and likewise did talk to me concerning things of state; and expressed his mind how just it was that the secluded members should come to sit again. I went from thence, and in my way went into an alehouse and drank my morning draft with Matthew Andrews and two or three more of his friends, coachmen. And of one of them I did hire a coach to carry us to-morrow to Twickenham. From thence to my office, where nothing to do; but Mr. Downing he came and found me all alone; and did mention to me his going back into Holland, and did ask me whether I would go or no, but gave me little encouragement, but bid me consider of it; and asked me whether I did not think that Mr. Hawly could perform the work of my office alone or no. I confess I was at a great loss, all the day after, to bethink myself how to carry this business. At noon, Harry Ethall came to me and went along with Mr. Maylard by coach as far as Salsbury Court, and there we set him down, and we went to the Clerks, where we came a little too late, but in a closet we had a very good dinner by Mr. Pinkny’s courtesy, and after dinner we had pretty good singing, and one, Hazard, sung alone after the old fashion, which was very much cried up, but I did not like it. Thence we went to the Green Dragon, on Lambeth Hill, both the Mr. Pinkney’s, Smith, Harrison, Morrice, that sang the bass, Sheply and I, and there we sang of all sorts of things, and I ventured with good success upon things at first sight, and after that I played on my flageolet, and staid there till nine o’clock, very merry and drawn on with one song after another till it came to be so late. After that Sheply, Harrison and myself, we went towards Westminster on foot, and at the Golden Lion, near Charing Cross, we went in and drank a pint of wine, and so parted, and thence home, where I found my wife and maid a-washing. I staid up till the bell-man came by with his bell just under my window as I was writing of this very line, and cried, “Past one of the clock, and a cold, frosty, windy morning.” I then went to bed, and left my wife and the maid a-washing still.
17th. Early I went to Mr. Crew’s, and having given Mr. Edward money to give the servants, I took him into the coach that waited for us and carried him to my house, where the coach waited for me while I and the child went to Westminster Hall, and bought him some pictures. In the Hall I met Mr. Woodfine, and took him to Will’s and drank with him. Thence the child and I to the coach, where my wife was ready, and so we went towards Twickenham. In our way, at Kensington we understood how that my Lord Chesterfield had killed another gentleman about half an hour before, and was fled.
[Philip Stanhope, second Earl of Chesterfield, ob. 1713, act. suae
80. We learn, from the memoir prefixed to his “Printed
Correspondence,” that he fought three duels, disarming and wounding
his first and second antagonists, and killing the third. The name
of the unfortunate gentleman who fell on this occasion was Woolly.
Lord Chesterfield, absconding, went to Breda, where he obtained the
royal pardon from Charles II. He acted a busy part in the eventful
times in which he lived, and was remarkable for his steady adherence
to the Stuarts. Lord Chesterfield’s letter to Charles II., and the
King’s answer granting the royal pardon, occur in the Correspondence
published by General Sir John Murray, in 1829.
“Jan. 17th, 1659. The Earl of Chesterfield and Dr. Woolly’s son of
Hammersmith, had a quarrel about a mare of eighteen pounds price;
the quarrel would not be reconciled, insomuch that a challenge
passed between them. They fought a duel on the backside of Mr.
Colby’s house at Kensington, where the Earl and he had several
passes. The Earl wounded him in two places, and would fain have
then ended, but the stubbornness and pride of heart of Mr. Woolly
would not give over, and the next pass [he] was killed on the spot.
The Earl fled to Chelsea, and there took water and escaped. The
jury found it chance-medley.”—Rugge’s “Diurnal,” Addit MSS.,
British Museum.—B.]
We went forward and came about one of the clock to Mr. Fuller’s, but he was out of town, so we had a dinner there, and I gave the child 40s. to give to the two ushers. After that we parted and went homewards, it being market day at Brainford [Brentford]. I set my wife down and went with the coach to Mr. Crew’s, thinking to have spoke with Mr. Moore and Mrs. Jem, he having told me the reason of his melancholy was some unkindness from her after so great expressions of love, and how he had spoke to her friends and had their consent, and that he would desire me to take an occasion of speaking with her, but by no means not to heighten her discontent or distaste whatever it be, but to make it up if I can. But he being out of doors, I went away and went to see Mrs. Jem, who was now very well again, and after a game or two at cards, I left her. So I went to the Coffee Club, and heard very good discourse; it was in answer to Mr. Harrington’s answer, who said that the state of the Roman government was not a settled government, and so it was no wonder that the balance of propriety [i.e., property] was in one hand, and the command in another, it being therefore always in a posture of war; but it was carried by ballot, that it was a steady government, though it is true by the voices it had been carried before that it was an unsteady government; so to-morrow it is to be proved by the opponents that the balance lay in one hand, and the government in another. Thence I went to Westminster, and met Shaw and Washington, who told me how this day Sydenham
[Colonel William Sydenham had been an active officer during the
Civil Wars, on the Parliament side; M.P. for Dorsetshire, Governor
of Melcombe, and one of the Committee of Safety. He was the elder
brother of the celebrated physician of that name.—B.]
was voted out of the House for sitting any more this Parliament, and that Salloway was voted out likewise and sent to the Tower, during the pleasure of the House. Home and wrote by the Post, and carried to Whitehall, and coming back turned in at Harper-’s, where Jack Price was, and I drank with him and he told me, among other, things, how much the Protector
[Richard Cromwell, third son of Oliver Cromwell, born October 4th,
1626, admitted a member of Lincoln’s Inn, May 27th, 1647, fell into
debt and devoted himself to hunting and field sports. His
succession to his father as Protector was universally accepted at
first, but the army soon began to murmur because he was not a
general. Between the dissensions of various parties he fell, and
the country was left in a state of anarchy: He went abroad early in
the summer of 1660, and lived abroad for some years, returning to
England in 1680. After his fall he bore the name of John Clarke.
Died at Cheshunt, July 12th, 1712.]
is altered, though he would seem to bear out his trouble very well, yet he is scarce able to talk sense with a man; and how he will say that “Who should a man trust, if he may not trust to a brother and an uncle;” and “how much those men have to answer before God Almighty, for their playing the knave with him as they did.” He told me also, that there was; L100,000 offered, and would have been taken for his restitution, had not the Parliament come in as they did again; and that he do believe that the Protector will live to give a testimony of his valour and revenge yet before he dies, and that the Protector will say so himself sometimes. Thence I went home, it being late and my wife in bed.
18th. To my office and from thence to Will’s, and there Mr. Sheply brought me letters from the carrier and so I went home. After that to Wilkinson’s, where we had a dinner for Mr. Talbot, Adams, Pinkny and his son, but his son did not come. Here we were very merry, and while I was here Mr. Fuller came thither and staid a little, while.
After that we all went to my Lord’s, whither came afterwards Mr. Harrison, and by chance seeing Mr. Butler—[Mr. Butler is usually styled by Pepys Mons. l’Impertinent.]—coming by I called him in and so we sat drinking a bottle of wine till night. At which time Mistress Ann—[Probably Mrs. (afterwards Lady) Anne Montagu, daughter of Sir Edward Montagu, and sister to Mrs. Jem.]—came with the key of my Lord’s study for some things, and so we all broke up and after I had gone to my house and interpreted my Lord’s letter by his character—[The making of ciphers was a popular amusement about this time. Pepys made several for Montagu, Downing, and others.]—I came to her again and went with her to her lodging and from thence to Mr. Crew’s, where I advised with him what to do about my Lord’s lodgings and what answer to give to Sir Ant. Cooper and so I came home and to bed. All the world is at a loss to think what Monk will do: the City saying that he will be for them, and the Parliament saying he will be for them.
19th. This morning I was sent for to Mr. Downing, and at his bed side he told me, that he had a kindness for me, and that he thought that he had done me one; and that was, that he had got me to be one of the Clerks of the Council; at which I was a little stumbled, and could not tell what to do, whether to thank him or no; but by and by I did; but not very heartily, for I feared that his doing of it was but only to ease himself of the salary which he gives me. After that Mr. Sheply staying below all this time for me we went thence and met Mr. Pierce,
[Pepys had two friends named Pierce, one the surgeon and the other
the purser; he usually (but not always) distinguishes them. The one
here alluded to was probably the surgeon, and husband of pretty Mrs.
Pierce. After the Restoration James Pearse or Pierce became Surgeon
to the Duke of York, and he was also Surgeon-General of the Fleet.]
so at the Harp and Ball drank our morning draft and so to Whitehall where I met with Sir Ant. Cooper and did give him some answer from my Lord and he did give us leave to keep the lodgings still. And so we did determine thereupon that Mr. Sheply might now go into the country and would do so to-morrow. Back I went by Mr. Downing’s order and staid there till twelve o’clock in expectation of one to come to read some writings, but he came not, so I staid all alone reading the answer of the Dutch Ambassador to our State, in answer to the reasons of my Lord’s coming home, which he gave for his coming, and did labour herein to contradict my Lord’s arguments for his coming home. Thence to my office and so with Mr. Sheply and Moore, to dine upon a turkey with Mrs. Jem, and after that Mr. Moore and I went to the French Ordinary, where Mr. Downing this day feasted Sir Arth. Haselrigge, and a great many more of the Parliament, and did stay to put him in mind of me. Here he gave me a note to go and invite some other members to dinner tomorrow. So I went to White Hall, and did stay at Marsh’s, with Simons, Luellin, and all the rest of the Clerks of the Council, who I hear are all turned out, only the two Leighs, and they do all tell me that my name was mentioned the last night, but that nothing was done in it. Hence I went and did leave some of my notes at the lodgings of the members and so home. To bed.
20th. In the morning I went to Mr. Downing’s bedside and gave him an account what I had done as to his guests, land I went thence to my Lord Widdrington who I met in the street, going to seal the patents for the judges to-day, and so could not come to dinner. I called upon Mr. Calthrop about the money due to my Lord. Here I met with Mr. Woodfine and drank with him at the Sun in Chancery Lane and so to Westminster Hall, where at the lobby I spoke with the rest of my guests and so to my office. At noon went by water with Mr. Maylard and Hales to the Swan in Fish Street at our Goal Feast, where we were very merry at our Jole of Ling, and from thence after a great and good dinner Mr. Falconberge would go drink a cup of ale at a place where I had like to have shot at a scholar that lay over the house of office. Thence calling on Mr. Stephens and Wootton (with whom I drank) about business of my Lord’s I went to the Coffee Club where there was nothing done but choosing of a Committee for orders. Thence to Westminster Hall where Mrs. Lane and the rest of the maids had their white scarfs, all having been at the burial of a young bookseller in the Hall.
[These stationers and booksellers, whose shops disfigured
Westminster Hall down to a late period, were a privileged class.
In the statutes for appointing licensers and regulating the press,
there is a clause exempting them from the pains and penalties of
these obnoxious laws.]
Thence to Mr. Sheply’s and took him to my house and drank with him in order to his going to-morrow. So parted and I sat up late making up my accounts before he go. This day three citizens of London went to meet Monk from the Common Council!
“Jan. 20th. Then there went out of the City, by desire of the Lord
Mayor and Court of Aldermen, Alderman Fowke and Alderman Vincett,
alias Vincent, and Mr. Broomfield, to compliment General Monk, who
lay at Harborough Town, in Leicestershire.”
“Jan. 21st. Because the Speaker was sick, and Lord General Monk so
near London, and everybody thought that the City would suffer for
their affronts to the soldiery, and because they had sent the sword-
bearer to, the General without the Parliament’s consent, and the
three Aldermen were gone to give him the welcome to town, these four
lines were in almost everybody’s mouth:
“Monk under a hood, not well understood,
The City pull in their horns;
The Speaker is out, and sick of the gout,
And the Parliament sit upon thorns.”
—Rugge’s ‘Diurnal.’—B.”
21st. Up early in finishing my accounts and writing to my Lord and from thence to my Lord’s and took leave of Mr. Sheply and possession of all the keys and the house. Thence to my office for some money to pay Mr. Sheply and sent it him by the old man. I then went to Mr. Downing who chid me because I did not give him notice of some of his guests failed him but I told him that I sent our porter to tell him and he was not within, but he told me that he was within till past twelve o’clock. So the porter or he lied. Thence to my office where nothing to do. Then with Mr. Hawly, he and I went to Mr. Crew’s and dined there. Thence into London, to Mr. Vernon’s and I received my L25 due by bill for my troopers’ pay. Then back again to Steadman’s. At the Mitre, in Fleet street, in our way calling on Mr. Fage, who told me how the City have some hopes of Monk. Thence to the Mitre, where I drank a pint of wine, the house being in fitting for Banister to come hither from Paget’s. Thence to Mrs. Jem and gave her L5. So home and left my money and to Whitehall where Luellin and I drank and talked together an hour at Marsh’s and so up to the clerks’ room, where poor Mr. Cook, a black man, that is like to be put out of his clerk’s place, came and railed at me for endeavouring to put him out and get myself in, when I was already in a good condition. But I satisfied him and after I had wrote a letter there to my Lord, wherein I gave him an account how this day Lenthall took his chair again, and [the House] resolved a declaration to be brought in on Monday next to satisfy the world what they intend to do. So home and to bed.
22nd. I went in the morning to Mr. Messum’s, where I met with W. Thurburn and sat with him in his pew. A very eloquent sermon about the duty of all to give good example in our lives and conversation, which I fear he himself was most guilty of not doing. After sermon, at the door by appointment my wife met me, and so to my father’s to dinner, where we had not been to my shame in a fortnight before. After dinner my father shewed me a letter from Mr. Widdrington, of Christ’s College, in Cambridge, wherein he do express very great kindness for my brother, and my father intends that my brother shall go to him. To church in the afternoon to Mr. Herring, where a lazy poor sermon. And so home with Mrs. Turner and sitting with her a while we went to my father’s where we supt very merry, and so home. This day I began to put on buckles to my shoes, which I have bought yesterday of Mr. Wotton.
23rd. In the morning called out to carry L20 to Mr. Downing, which I did and came back, and finding Mr. Pierce, the surgeon, I took him to the Axe and gave him his morning draft. Thence to my office and there did nothing but make up my balance. Came home and found my wife dressing of the girl’s head, by which she was made to look very pretty. I went out and paid Wilkinson what I did owe him, and brought a piece of beef home for dinner. Thence I went out and paid Waters, the vintner, and went to see Mrs. Jem, where I found my Lady Wright, but Scott was so drunk that he could not be seen. Here I staid and made up Mrs. Ann’s bills, and played a game or two at cards, and thence to Westminster Hall, it being very dark. I paid Mrs. Michell, my bookseller, and back to Whitehall, and in the garden, going through to the Stone Gallery—[The Stone Gallery was a long passage between the Privy Garden and the river. It led from the Bowling Green to the Court of the Palace]—I fell into a ditch, it being very dark. At the Clerk’s chamber I met with Simons and Luellin, and went with them to Mr. Mount’s chamber at the Cock Pit, where we had some rare pot venison, and ale to abundance till almost twelve at night, and after a song round we went home. This day the Parliament sat late, and resolved of the declaration to be printed for the people’s satisfaction, promising them a great many good things.
24th. In the morning to my office, where, after I had drank my morning draft at Will’s with Ethell and Mr. Stevens, I went and told part of the excise money till twelve o’clock, and then called on my wife and took her to Mr. Pierces, she in the way being exceedingly troubled with a pair of new pattens, and I vexed to go so slow, it being late. There when we came we found Mrs. Carrick very fine, and one Mr. Lucy, who called one another husband and wife, and after dinner a great deal of mad stir. There was pulling off Mrs. bride’s and Mr. bridegroom’s ribbons;
[The scramble for ribbons, here mentioned by Pepys in connection
with weddings (see also January 26th, 1660-61, and February 8th,
1662-3), doubtless formed part of the ceremony of undressing the
bridegroom, which, as the age became more refined, fell into disuse.
All the old plays are silent on the custom; the earliest notice of
which occurs in the old ballad of the wedding of Arthur O’Bradley,
printed in the Appendix to “Robin Hood,” 1795, where we read—
“Then got they his points and his garters,
And cut them in pieces like martyrs;
And then they all did play
For the honour of Arthur O’Bradley.”
Sir Winston Churchill also observes (“Divi Britannici,” p. 340) that
James I. was no more troubled at his querulous countrymen robbing
him than a bridegroom at the losing of his points and garters. Lady
Fanshawe, in her “Memoirs,” says, that at the nuptials of Charles
II. and the Infanta, “the Bishop of London declared them married in
the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost; and then they
caused the ribbons her Majesty wore to be cut in little pieces; and
as far as they would go, every one had some.” The practice still
survives in the form of wedding favours.
A similar custom is still of every day’s occurrence at Dieppe. Upon
the morrow after their marriage, the bride and bridegroom
perambulate the streets, followed by a numerous cortege, the guests
at the wedding festival, two and two; each individual wearing two
bits of narrow ribbon, about two inches in length, of different
colours, which are pinned crossways upon the breast. These morsels
of ribbons originally formed the garters of the bride and
bridegroom, which had been divided amidst boisterous mirth among the
assembled company, the moment the happy pair had been formally
installed in the bridal bed.—Ex. inf. Mr. William.Hughes,
Belvedere, Jersey.—B.]
with a great deal of fooling among them that I and my wife did not like. Mr. Lucy and several other gentlemen coming in after dinner, swearing and singing as if they were mad, only he singing very handsomely. There came in afterwards Mr. Southerne, clerk to Mr. Blackburne, and with him Lambert, lieutenant of my Lord’s ship, and brought with them the declaration that came out to-day from the Parliament, wherein they declare for law and gospel, and for tythes; but I do not find people apt to believe them. After this taking leave I went to my father’s, and my wife staying there, he and I went to speak with Mr. Crumlum (in the meantime, while it was five o’clock, he being in the school, we went to my cozen Tom Pepys’ shop, the turner in Paul’s Churchyard, and drank with him a pot of ale); he gave my father directions what to do about getting my brother an exhibition, and spoke very well of my brother. Thence back with my father home, where he and I spoke privately in the little room to my sister Pall about stealing of things as my wife’s scissars and my maid’s book, at which my father was much troubled. Hence home with my wife and so to Whitehall, where I met with Mr. Hunt and Luellin, and drank with them at Marsh’s, and afterwards went up and wrote to my Lord by the post. This day the Parliament gave order that the late Committee of Safety should come before them this day se’nnight, and all their papers, and their model of Government that they had made, to be brought in with them. So home and talked with my wife about our dinner on Thursday.
25th. Called up early to Mr. Downing; he gave me a Character, such a one as my Lord’s, to make perfect, and likewise gave me his order for L500 to carry to Mr. Frost, which I did and so to my office, where I did do something about the character till twelve o’clock. Then home find found my wife and the maid at my Lord’s getting things ready against to-morrow. I went by water to my Uncle White’s’ to dinner, where I met my father, where we alone had a fine jole of Ling to dinner. After dinner I took leave, and coming home heard that in Cheapside there had been but a little before a gibbet set up, and the picture of Huson
[John Hewson, who, from a low origin, became a colonel in the
Parliament army, and sat in judgment on the King: he escaped hanging
by flight, and died in 1662, at Amsterdam. A curious notice of
Hewson occurs in Rugge’s “Diurnal,” December 5th, 1659, which states
that “he was a cobbler by trade, but a very stout man, and a very
good commander; but in regard of his former employment, they [the
city apprentices] threw at him old shoes, and slippers, and
turniptops, and brick-bats, stones, and tiles.”... “At this
time [January, 1659-60] there came forth, almost every day, jeering
books: one was called ‘Colonel Hewson’s Confession; or, a Parley
with Pluto,’ about his going into London, and taking down the gates
of Temple-Bar.” He had but one eye, which did not escape the notice
of his enemies.—B.]
hung upon it in the middle of the street. I called at Paul’s Churchyard, where I bought Buxtorf’s Hebrew Grammar; and read a declaration of the gentlemen of Northampton which came out this afternoon. Thence to my father’s, where I staid with my mother a while and then to Mr. Crew’s about a picture to be sent into the country, of Mr. Thomas Crew, to my Lord. So [to] my Lady Wright to speak with her, but she was abroad, so Mr. Evans, her butler, had me into his buttery, and gave me sack and a lesson on his lute, which he played very well. Thence I went to my Lord’s and got most things ready against tomorrow, as fires and laying the cloth, and my wife was making of her tarts and larding of her pullets till eleven o’clock. This evening Mr. Downing sent for me, and gave me order to go to Mr. Jessop for his papers concerning his dispatch to Holland which were not ready, only his order for a ship to transport him he gave me. To my Lord’s again and so home with my wife, tired with this day’s work.
26th. To my office for L20 to carry to Mr. Downing, which I did and back again. Then came Mr. Frost to pay Mr. Downing his L500, and I went to him for the warrant and brought it Mr. Frost. Called for some papers at Whitehall for Mr. Downing, one of which was an Order of the Council for L1800 per annum, to be paid monthly; and the other two, Orders to the Commissioners of Customs, to let his goods pass free. Home from my office to my Lord’s lodgings where my wife had got ready a very fine dinner—viz. a dish of marrow bones; a leg of mutton; a loin of veal; a dish of fowl, three pullets, and two dozen of larks all in a dish; a great tart, a neat’s tongue, a dish of anchovies; a dish of prawns and cheese. My company was my father, my uncle Fenner, his two sons, Mr. Pierce, and all their wives, and my brother Tom. We were as merry as I could frame myself to be in the company, W. Joyce talking after the old rate and drinking hard, vexed his father and mother and wife. And I did perceive that Mrs. Pierce her coming so gallant, that it put the two young women quite out of courage. When it became dark they all went away but Mr. Pierce, and W. Joyce, and their wives and Tom, and drank a bottle of wine afterwards, so that Will did heartily vex his father and mother by staying. At which I and my wife were much pleased. Then they all went and I fell to writing of two characters for Mr. Downing, and carried them to him at nine o’clock at night, and he did not like them but corrected them, so that to-morrow I am to do them anew. To my Lord’s lodging again and sat by the great log, it being now a very good fire, with my wife, and ate a bit and so home. The news this day is a letter that speaks absolutely Monk’s concurrence with this Parliament, and nothing else, which yet I hardly believe. After dinner to-day my father showed me a letter from my Uncle Robert, in answer to my last, concerning my money which I would have out of my Coz. Beck’s’ hand, wherein Beck desires it four months longer, which I know not how to spare.
27th. Going to my office I met with Tom Newton, my old comrade, and took him to the Crown in the Palace, and gave him his morning draft. And as he always did, did talk very high what he would do with the Parliament, that he would have what place he would, and that he might be one of the Clerks to the Council if he would. Here I staid talking with him till the offices were all shut, and then I looked in the Hall, and was told by my bookseller, Mrs. Michell, that Mr. G. Montagu had inquired there for me. So I went to his house, and was forced by him to dine with him, and had a plenteous brave dinner and the greatest civility that ever I had from any man. Thence home and so to Mrs. Jem, and played with her at cards, and coming home again my wife told me that Mr. Hawly had been there to speak with me, and seemed angry that I had not been at the office that day, and she told me she was afraid that Mr. Downing may have a mind to pick some hole in my coat. So I made haste to him, but found no such thing from him, but he sent me to Mr. Sherwin’s about getting Mr. Squib to come to him tomorrow, and I carried him an answer. So home and fell a writing the characters for Mr. Downing, and about nine at night Mr. Hawly came, and after he was gone I sat up till almost twelve writing, and—wrote two of them. In the morning up early and wrote another, my wife lying in bed and reading to me.
28th. I went to Mr. Downing 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, 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 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 Heaven,
[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.]
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 L500; it being very dark he took L300 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 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 my Lord’s 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 my Lord, and so to Whitehall and gave them to the post-boy. Back again home and to bed.
29th. In the morning I went to Mr. Gunning’s, where he made an excellent sermon upon the 2d of the Galatians, about the difference that fell between St. Paul and St. Peter (the feast day of St. Paul being a day or two ago), whereby he did prove, that, contrary to the doctrine of the Roman Church, St. Paul did never own any dependance, or that he was inferior to St. Peter, but that they were equal, only one a particular charge of preaching to the Jews, and the other to the Gentiles. Here I met with Mr. Moore, and went home with him to dinner to Mr. Crew’s, where Mr. Spurrier being in town did dine with us. From thence I went home and spent the afternoon in casting up my accounts, and do find myself to be worth L40 and more, which I did not think, but am afraid that I have forgot something. To my father’s to supper, where I heard by my brother Tom how W. Joyce would the other day have Mr. Pierce and his wife to the tavern after they were gone from my house, and that he had so little manners as to make Tom pay his share notwithstanding that he went upon his account, and by my father I understand that my uncle Fenner and my aunt were much pleased with our entertaining them. After supper home without going to see Mrs. Turner.
30th. This morning, before I was up, I fell a-singing of my song, “Great, good, and just,” &c.
[This is the beginning of the Marquis of Montrose’s verses on the
execution of Charles I., which Pepys had set to music:
“Great, good, and just, could I but rate
My grief and thy too rigid fate,
I’d weep the world to such a strain
That it should deluge once again.
But since thy loud-tongued blood demands supplies
More from Briareus’ hands, than Argus eyes,
I’ll sing thy obsequies with trumpet sounds,
And write thy epitaph with blood and wounds.”]
and put myself thereby in mind that this was the fatal day, now ten years since, his Majesty died. Scull the waterman came and brought me a note from the Hope from Mr. Hawly with direction, about his money, he tarrying there till his master be gone. To my office, where I received money of the excise of Mr. Ruddyer, and after we had done went to Will’s and staid there till 3 o’clock and then I taking my L12 10s. 0d. due to me for my last quarter’s salary, I went with them by water to London to the house where Signr. Torriano used to be and staid there a while with Mr. Ashwell, Spicer and Ruddier. Then I went and paid L12 17s. 6d. due from me to Captn. Dick Matthews according to his direction the last week in a letter. After that I came back by water playing on my flageolette and not finding my wife come home again from her father’s I went and sat awhile and played at cards with Mrs. Jam, whose maid had newly got an ague and was ill thereupon. So homewards again, having great need to do my business, and so pretending to meet Mr. Shott the wood monger of Whitehall I went and eased myself at the Harp and Ball, and thence home where I sat writing till bed-time and so to bed. There seems now to be a general cease of talk, it being taken for granted that Monk do resolve to stand to the Parliament, and nothing else. Spent a little time this night in knocking up nails for my hat and cloaks in my chamber.
31st. In the morning I fell to my lute till 9 o’clock. Then to my Lord’s lodgings and set out a barrel of soap to be carried to Mrs. Ann. Here I met with Nick Bartlet, one that had been a servant of my Lord’s at sea and at Harper’s gave him his morning draft. So to my office where I paid; L1200 to Mr. Frost and at noon went to Will’s to give one of the Excise office a pot of ale that came to-day to tell over a bag of his that wanted; L7 in it, which he found over in another bag. Then home and dined with my wife when in came Mr. Hawly newly come from shipboard from his master, and brought me a letter of direction what to do in his lawsuit with Squib about his house and office. After dinner to Westminster Hall, where all we clerks had orders to wait upon the Committee, at the Star Chamber that is to try Colonel Jones,
[Colonel John Jones, impeached, with General Ludlow and Miles
Corbet, for treasonable practices in Ireland.]
and were to give an account what money we had paid him; but the Committee did not sit to-day. Hence to Will’s, where I sat an hour or two with Mr. Godfrey Austin, a scrivener in King Street. Here I met and afterwards bought the answer to General Monk’s letter, which is a very good one, and I keep it by me. Thence to Mrs. Jem, where I found her maid in bed in a fit of the ague, and Mrs. Jem among the people below at work and by and by she came up hot and merry, as if they had given her wine, at which I was troubled, but said nothing; after a game at cards, I went home and wrote by the post and coming back called in at Harper’s and drank with Mr. Pulford, servant to Mr. Waterhouse, who tells me, that whereas my Lord Fleetwood should have answered to the Parliament to-day, he wrote a letter and desired a little more time, he being a great way out of town. And how that he is quite ashamed of himself, and confesses how he had deserved this, for his baseness to his brother. And that he is like to pay part of the money, paid out of the Exchequer during the Committee of Safety, out of his own purse again, which I am glad of. Home and to bed, leaving my wife reading in Polixandre.
[“Polexandre,” by Louis Le Roy de Gomberville, was first published
in 1632. “The History of Polexander” was “done into English by W.
Browne,” and published in folio, London, 1647. It was the earliest
of the French heroic romances, and it appears to have been the model
for the works of Calprenede and Mdlle. de Scuderi; see Dunlop’s
“History of Fiction” for the plot of the romance.]
I could find nothing in Mr. Downing’s letter, which Hawly brought me, concerning my office; but I could discern that Hawly had a mind that I would get to be Clerk of the Council, I suppose that he might have the greater salary; but I think it not safe yet to change this for a public employment.
FEBRUARY 1659-1660
February 1st. In the morning went to my office where afterwards the old man brought me my letters from the carrier. At noon I went home and dined with my wife on pease porridge and nothing else. After that I went to the Hall and there met with Mr. Swan and went with him to Mr. Downing’s Counsellor, who did put me in very little hopes about the business between Mr. Downing and Squib, and told me that Squib would carry it against him, at which I was much troubled, and with him went to Lincoln’s Inn and there spoke with his attorney, who told me the day that was appointed for the trial. From thence I went to Sir Harry Wright’s and got him to give me his hand for the L60 which I am to-morrow to receive from Mr. Calthrop and from thence to Mrs. Jem and spoke with Madam Scott and her husband who did promise to have the thing for her neck done this week. Thence home and took Gammer East, and James the porter, a soldier, to my Lord’s lodgings, who told me how they were drawn into the field to-day, and that they were ordered to march away to-morrow to make room for General Monk; but they did shut their Colonel Fitch, and the rest of the officers out of the field, and swore they would not go without their money, and if they would not give it them, they would go where they might have it, and that was the City. So the Colonel went to the Parliament, and commanded what money could be got, to be got against to-morrow for them, and all the rest of the soldiers in town, who in all places made a mutiny this day, and do agree together. Here I took some bedding to send to Mrs. Ann for her to lie in now she hath her fits of the ague. Thence I went to Will’s and staid like a fool there and played at cards till 9 o’clock and so came home, where I found Mr. Hunt and his wife who staid and sat with me till 10 and so good night.
2d. 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 chamber, and from thence had his man by water to London Bridge to Mr. Calthrop, a grocer, and received L60 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.
3rd. 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’s 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 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,
[Roger Pepys, son of Talbot Pepys of Impington, a barrister of the
Middle Temple, M.P. for Cambridge, 1661-78, and Recorder of that
town, 1660-88. He married, for the third time, Parnell, daughter
and heiress of John Duke, of Workingham, co. Suffolk, and this was
the wedding for which the posy ring was required.]
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 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 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
[It is supposed that the fashion of having mottoes inscribed on
rings was of Roman origin. In the fourteenth and fifteenth
centuries the posy was inscribed on the outside of the ring, and in
the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries it was placed inside. A
small volume was published in 1674, entitled “Love’s Garland: or
Posies for Rings, Handkerchers and Gloves, and such pretty tokens
that Lovers send their Loves.”]
for a ring for her which she is to have at Roger Pepys 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 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 soldiers. I returned, and it growing dark I and they went to take a turn in the park, where Theoph. (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.
4th. In the morning at my lute an hour, and so to my office, where I staid expecting to have Mr. Squib come to me, but he did not. At noon walking in the Hall I found Mr. Swan and got him and Captain Stone together, and there advised about Mr. Downing’s business. So to Will’s, and sat there till three o’clock and then to Mr. Swan’s, where I found his wife in very genteel mourning for her father, and took him out by water to the Counsellor at the Temple, Mr. Stephens, and from thence to Gray’s Inn, thinking to speak with Sotherton Ellis, but found him not, so we met with an acquaintance of his in the walks, and went and drank, where I ate some bread and butter, having ate nothing all day, while they were by chance discoursing of Marriot, the great eater, so that I was, I remember, ashamed to eat what I would have done. Here Swan shewed us a ballad to the tune of Mardike which was most incomparably wrote in a printed hand, which I borrowed of him, but the song proved but silly, and so I did not write it out. Thence we went and leaving Swan at his master’s, my Lord Widdrington, I met with Spicer, Washington, and D. Vines in Lincoln’s Inn Court, and they were buying of a hanging jack to roast birds on of a fellow that was there selling of some. I was fain to slip from there and went to Mrs. Crew’s to her and advised about a maid to come and be with Mrs. Jem while her maid is sick, but she could spare none. Thence to Sir Harry Wright’s, but my lady not being within I spoke to Mrs. Carter about it, who will get one against Monday. So with a link boy
[Links were torches of tow or pitch to light the way. Ed.]
to Scott’s, where Mrs. Ann was in a heat, but I spoke not to her, but told Mrs. Jem what I had done, and after that went home and wrote letters into the country by the post, and then played awhile on my lute, and so done, to supper and then to bed. All the news to-day is, that the Parliament this morning voted the House to be made up four hundred forthwith. This day my wife killed her turkeys that Mr. Sheply gave her, that came out of Zealand with my Lord, and could not get her m’d Jane by no means at any time to kill anything.
5th,(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 L24 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, 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 and found her there, and there I dined. To their church in the afternoon, and in Mrs. Turner’s 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. After sermon home with Mrs. Turner, staid with her a little while, then she went into the court to a christening and we to my father’s, where I wrote some notes for my brother John to give to the Mercers’ to-morrow, it being the day of their apposition. After supper home, and before going to bed I staid writing of this day its passages, while a drum came by, beating of a strange manner of beat, now and then a single stroke, which my wife and I wondered at, what the meaning of it should be. This afternoon at church I saw Dick Cumberland newly come out of the country from his living, but did not speak to him.
6th. Before I went to my office I went to Mr. Crew’s and paid Mr. Andrews the same L60 that he had received of Mr. Calthrop the last week. So back to Westminster and walked with him thither, where we found the soldiers all set in the Palace Yard, to make way for General Monk to come to the House. At the Hall we parted, and meeting Swan, he and I to the Swan and drank our morning draft. So back again to the Hall, where I stood upon the steps and saw Monk go by, he making observance to the judges as he went along. At noon my father dined with me upon my turkey that was brought from Denmark, and after dinner he and I to the Bull Head Tavern, where we drank half a pint of wine and so parted. I to Mrs. Ann, and Mrs. Jem being gone out of the chamber she and I had a very high bout, I rattled her up, she being in her bed, but she becoming more cool, we parted pretty good friends. Thence I went to Will’s, where I staid at cards till 10 o’clock, losing half a crown, and so home to bed.
7th. In the morning I went early to give Mr. Hawly notice of my being forced to go into London, but he having also business we left our office business to Mr. Spicer and he and I walked as far as the Temple, where I halted a little and then went to Paul’s School, but it being too soon, went and drank my morning draft with my cozen Tom Pepys the turner, and saw his house and shop, thence to school, where he that made the speech for the seventh form in praise of the founder, did show a book which Mr. Crumlum had lately got, which is believed to be of the Founder’s own writing. After all the speeches, in which my brother John came off as well as any of the rest, I went straight home and dined, then to the Hall, where in the Palace I saw Monk’s soldiers abuse Billing and all the Quakers, that were at a meeting-place there, and indeed the soldiers did use them very roughly and were to blame.
[“Fox, or some other ‘weighty’ friend, on hearing of this,
complained to Monk, who issued the following order, dated March 9th:
‘I do require all officers and soldiers to forbear to disturb
peaceable meetings of the Quakers, they doing nothing prejudicial to
the Parliament or the Commonwealth of England. George Monk.’ This
order, we are told, had an excellent effect on the soldiers.”—A. C.
Bickley’s ‘George Fox and the Early Quakers, London, 1884, p. 179.
The Quakers were at this time just coming into notice. The first
preaching of George Fox, the founder, was in 1648, and in 1655 the
preachers of the sect numbered seventy-three. Fox computed that
there were seldom less than a thousand quakers in prison. The
statute 13 and 14 Car. II. cap. i. (1662) was “An act for
preventing the mischiefs and dangers that may arise by certain
persons called quakers and others, refusing to take lawful oaths.”
Billing is mentioned again on July 22nd, 1667, when he addressed
Pepys in Westminster Hall.]
So after drinking with Mr. Spicer, who had received L600 for me this morning, I went to Capt. Stone and with him by coach to the Temple Gardens (all the way talking of the disease of the stone), where we met Mr. Squib, but would do nothing till to-morrow morning. Thence back on foot home, where I found a letter from my Lord in character [private cryptic code Ed.], which I construed, and after my wife had shewn me some ribbon and shoes that she had taken out of a box of Mr. Montagu’s which formerly Mr. Kipps had left here when his master was at sea, I went to Mr. Crew and advised with him about it, it being concerning my Lord’s coming up to Town, which he desires upon my advice the last week in my letter. Thence calling upon Mrs. Ann I went home, and wrote in character to my Lord in answer to his letter. This day Mr. Crew told me that my Lord St. John is for a free Parliament, and that he is very great with Monk, who hath now the absolute command and power to do any thing that he hath a mind to do. Mr. Moore told me of a picture hung up at the Exchange of a great pair of buttocks shooting of a turd into Lawson’s mouth, and over it was wrote “The thanks of the house.” Boys do now cry “Kiss my Parliament, instead of “Kiss my [rump],” so great and general a contempt is the Rump come to among all the good and bad.
8th. A little practice on my flageolet, and afterwards walking in my yard to see my stock of pigeons, which begin now with the spring to breed very fast. I was called on by Mr. Fossan, my fellow pupil at Cambridge, and I took him to the Swan in the Palace yard, and drank together our morning draft. Thence to my office, where I received money, and afterwards Mr. Carter, my old friend at Cambridge, meeting me as I was going out of my office I took him to the Swan, and in the way I met with Captain Lidcott, and so we three went together and drank there, the Captain talking as high as ever he did, and more because of the fall of his brother Thurlow.
[John Thurloe, born 1616; Secretary of State to Cromwell; M.P. for
Ely, 1656, and for the University of Cambridge in Richard Cromwell’s
Parliament of December, 1658. He was never employed after the
Restoration, although the King solicited his services. He died
February 21st, 1668. Pepys spells the name Thurlow, which was a
common spelling at the time.]
Hence I went to Captain Stone, who told me how Squib had been with him, and that he could do nothing with him, so I returned to Mr. Carter and with him to Will’s, where I spent upon him and Monsieur L’Impertinent, alias Mr. Butler, who I took thither with me, and thence to a Rhenish wine house, and in our way met with Mr. Hoole, where I paid for my cozen Roger Pepys his wine, and after drinking we parted. So I home, in my way delivering a letter which among the rest I had from my Lord to-day to Sir N. Wheeler. At home my wife’s brother brought her a pretty black dog which I liked very well, and went away again. Hence sending a porter with the hamper of bottles to the Temple I called in my way upon Mrs. Jem, who was much frighted till I came to tell her that her mother was well. So to the Temple, where I delivered the wine and received the money of my cos. Roger that I laid out, and thence to my father’s, where he shewed me a base angry letter that he had newly received from my uncle Robert about my brother John, at which my father was very sad, but I comforted him and wrote an answer. My brother John has an exhibition granted him from the school. My father and I went down to his kitchen, and there we eat and drank, and about 9 o’clock I went away homewards, and in Fleet Street, received a great jostle from a man that had a mind to take the wall, which I could not help?
[This was a constant trouble to the pedestrian until the rule of
passing to the right of the person met was generally accepted. Gay
commences his “Trivia” with an allusion to this—
“When to assert the wall, and when resign—”
and the epigram on the haughty courtier and the scholar is well
known.]
I came home and to bed. Went to bed with my head not well by my too much drinking to-day, and I had a boil under my chin which troubled me cruelly.
9th. Soon as out of my bed I wrote letters into the country to go by carrier to-day. Before I was out of my bed, I heard the soldiers very busy in the morning, getting their horses ready where they lay at Hilton’s, but I knew not then their meaning in so doing: After I had wrote my letters I went to Westminster up and down the Hall, and with Mr. Swan walked a good [deal] talking about Mr. Downing’s business. I went with him to Mr. Phelps’s house where he had some business to solicit, where we met Mr. Rogers my neighbour, who did solicit against him and talked very high, saying that he would not for a L1000 appear in a business that Swan did, at which Swan was very angry, but I believe he might be guilty enough. In the Hall I understand how Monk is this morning gone into London with his army; and met with Mr. Fage, who told me that he do believe that Monk is gone to secure some of the Common-council of the City, who were very high yesterday there, and did vote that they would not pay any taxes till the House was filled up. I went to my office, where I wrote to my Lord after I had been at the Upper Bench, where Sir Robert Pye
[Sir Robert Pye, the elder, was auditor of the Exchequer, and a
staunch Royalist. He garrisoned his house at Faringdon, which was
besieged by his son, of the same names, a decided Republican, son-
in-law to Hampden, and colonel of horse under Fairfax. The son,
here spoken of, was subsequently committed to the Tower for
presenting a petition to the House of Commons from the county of
Berks, which he represented in Parliament, complaining of the want
of a settled form of government. He had, however, the courage to
move for an habeas corpus, but judge Newdigate decided that the
courts of law had not the power to discharge him. Upon Monk’s
coming to London, the secluded members passed a vote to liberate
Pye, and at the Restoration he was appointed equerry to the King.
He died in 1701.—B.]
this morning came to desire his discharge from the Tower; but it could not be granted. After that I went to Mrs. Jem, who I had promised to go along with to her Aunt Wright’s, but she was gone, so I went thither, and after drinking a glass of sack I went back to Westminster Hall, and meeting with Mr. Pierce the surgeon, who would needs take me home, where Mr. Lucy, Burrell, and others dined, and after dinner I went home and to Westminster Hall, where meeting Swan I went with him by water to the Temple to our Counsel, and did give him a fee to make a motion to-morrow in the Exchequer for Mr. Downing. Thence to Westminster Hall, where I heard an action very finely pleaded between my Lord Dorset and some other noble persons, his lady and other ladies of quality being here, and it was about; L330 per annum, that was to be paid to a poor Spittal, which was given by some of his predecessors; and given on his side. Thence Swan and I to a drinking-house near Temple Bar, where while he wrote I played on my flageolet till a dish of poached eggs was got ready for us, which we eat, and so by coach home. I called at Mr. Harper’s, who told me how Monk had this day clapt up many of the Common-council, and that the Parliament had voted that he should pull down their gates and portcullisses, their posts and their chains, which he do intend to do, and do lie in the City all night. I went home and got some ahlum to my mouth, where I have the beginnings of a cancer, and had also a plaster to my boil underneath my chin.
10th. In the morning I went to Mr. Swan, who took me to the Court of Wards, where I saw the three Lords Commissioners sitting upon some cause where Mr. Scobell was concerned, and my Lord Fountaine took him up very roughly about some things that he said. After that we went to the Exchequer, where the Barons were hearing of causes, and there I made affidavit that Mr. Downing was gone into Holland by order of the Council of State, and this affidavit I gave to Mr. Stevens our lawyer. Thence to my office, where I got money of Mr. Hawly to pay the lawyer, and there found Mr. Lenard, one of the Clerks of the Council, and took him to the Swan and gave him his morning draft. Then home to dinner, and after that to the Exchequer, where I heard all the afternoon a great many causes before the Barons; in the end came ours, and Squib proved clearly by his patent that the house and office did now belong to him. Our lawyer made some kind of opposition, but to no purpose, and so the cause was found against us, and the foreman of the jury brought in L10 damages, which the whole Court cried shame of, and so he cried 12d. Thence I went home, vexed about this business, and there I found Mr. Moore, and with him went into London to Mr. Fage about the cancer in my mouth, which begins to grow dangerous, who gave me something for it, and also told me what Monk had done in the City, how he had pulled down the most part of the gates and chains that they could break down, and that he was now gone back to White Hall. The City look mighty blank, and cannot tell what in the world to do; the Parliament having this day ordered that the Common-council sit no more; but that new ones be chosen according to what qualifications they shall give them. Thence I went and drank with Mr. Moore at the Sugar Loaf by Temple Bar, where Swan and I were last night, and so we parted. At home I found Mr. Hunt, who sat talking with me awhile, and so to bed.
11th. 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, 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 reading of the letter; and after it was read, Sir A. Haselrigge came out very angry, and Billing—[The quaker mentioned before on the 7th of this month.]—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 and Lord Mayor 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 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 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 and Vane 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, for the imposing of an oath upon all sorts of people, was received by the House with thanks. That therefore he [Monk] 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 [Monk] 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, and so we went to the Star Tavern (Monk 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.
12th. In the morning, it being Lord’s day, Mr. Pierce came to me to enquire how things go. We drank our morning draft together and thence to White Hall, where Dr. Hones preached; but I staid not to hear, but walking in the court, I heard that Sir Arth. Haselrigge was newly gone into the City to Monk, and that Monk’s wife removed from White Hall last night. Home again, where at noon came according to my invitation my cos. Thos. Pepys and his partner and dined with me, but before dinner we went and took a walk round the park, it being a most pleasant day as ever I saw. After dinner we three went into London together, where I heard that Monk had been at Paul’s in the morning, and the people had shouted much at his coming out of the church. In the afternoon he was at a church in Broad-street, whereabout he do lodge. But not knowing how to see him we went and walked half a hour in Moorfields, which were full of people, it being so fine a day. Here I took leave of them, and so to Paul’s, where I met with Mr. Kirton’s’ apprentice (the crooked fellow) and walked up and down with him two hours, sometimes in the street looking for a tavern to drink in, but not finding any open, we durst not knock; other times in the churchyard, where one told me that he had seen the letter printed. Thence to Mr. Turner’s, where I found my wife, Mr. Edw. Pepys, and Roger’ and Mr. Armiger being there, to whom I gave as good an account of things as I could, and so to my father’s, where Charles Glascocke was overjoyed to see how things are now; who told me the boys had last night broke Barebone’s windows. Hence home, and being near home we missed our maid, and were at a great loss and went back a great way to find her, but when we could not see her we went homewards and found her there, got before us which we wondered at greatly. So to bed, where my wife and I had some high words upon my telling her that I would fling the dog which her brother gave her out of window if he [dirtied] the house any more.
13th. To my office till noon, thence home to dinner, my mouth being very bad of the cancer and my left leg beginning to be sore again. After dinner to see Mrs. Jem, and in the way met with Catan on foot in the street and talked with her a little, so home and took my wife to my father’s. In my way I went to Playford’s, and for two books that I had and 6s. 6d. to boot I had my great book of songs which he sells always for r 4s. At my father’s I staid a while, while my mother sent her maid Bess to Cheapside for some herbs to make a water for my mouth. Then I went to see Mr. Cumberland, and after a little stay with him I returned, and took my wife home, where after supper to bed. This day Monk was invited to White Hall to dinner by my Lords; not seeming willing, he would not come. I went to Mr. Fage from my father’s, who had been this afternoon with Monk, who do promise to live and die with the City, and for the honour of the City; and indeed the City is very open-handed to the soldiers, that they are most of them drunk all day, and have money given them. He did give me something for my mouth which I did use this night.
14th. Called out in the morning by Mr. Moore, whose voice my wife hearing in my dressing-chamber with me, got herself ready, and came down and challenged him for her valentine, this being the day.
[The practice of choosing valentines was very general at this time,
but some of the best examples of the custom are found in this
Diary.]
To Westminster Hall, there being many new remonstrances and declarations from many counties to Monk and the City, and one coming from the North from Sir Thomas Fairfax. Hence I took him to the Swan and gave him his morning draft. So to my office, where Mr. Hill of Worcestershire came to see me and my partner in our office, with whom we went to Will’s to drink. At noon I went home and so to Mr. Crew’s, but they had dined, and so I went to see Mrs. Jem where I stayed a while, and home again where I stayed an hour or two at my lute, and so forth to Westminster Hall, where I heard that the Parliament hath now changed the oath so much talked of to a promise; and that among other qualifications for the members that are to be chosen, one is, that no man, nor the son of any man that hath been in arms during the life of the father, shall be capable of being chosen to sit in Parliament. To Will’s, where like a fool I staid and lost 6d. at cards. So home, and wrote a letter to my Lord by the post. So after supper to bed. This day, by an order of the House, Sir H. Vane was sent out of town to his house in Lincolnshire.
15th. Called up in the morning by Captain Holland and Captain Cuttance, and with them to Harper’s, thence to my office, thence with Mr. Hill of Worcestershire to Will’s, where I gave him a letter to Nan Pepys, and some merry pamphlets against the Rump to carry to her into the country. So to Mr. Crew’s, where the dining room being full, Mr. Walgrave and I dined below in the buttery by ourselves upon a good dish of buttered salmon. Thence to Hering’ the merchant about my Lord’s Worcester money and back to Paul’s Churchyard, where I staid reading in Fuller’s History of the Church of England an hour or two, and so to my father’s, where Mr. Hill came to me and I gave him direction what to do at Worcester about the money. Thence to my Lady Wright’s and gave her a letter from my Lord privily. So to Mrs. Jem and sat with her, who dined at Mr. Crew’s to-day, and told me that there was at her coming away at least forty gentlemen (I suppose members that were secluded, for Mr. Walgrave told me that there were about thirty met there the last night) came dropping in one after another thither. Thence home and wrote into the country against to-morrow by the carrier and so to bed. At my father’s I heard how my cousin Kate Joyce had a fall yesterday from her horse and had some hurt thereby. No news to-day, but all quiet to see what the Parliament will do about the issuing of the writs to-morrow for filling up of the House, according to Monk’s desire.