A>>B >>C >> D >>E
F>> G >>H>> I>> J
K >>L>> M>> N>> O
P>> R >>S >> T
U >> V>> W

Diary of Samuel Pepys, 1667 N.S. Complete

S >> Samuel Pepys >> Diary of Samuel Pepys, 1667 N.S. Complete

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35 | 36 | 37 | 38 | 39 | 40 | 41 | 42 | 43



26th. Up, all the morning at the office, and then home to dinner, where
dined Mr. Clerke, solicitor, with me, to discourse about my Tangier
accounts, which I would fain make up, but I have not time. After dinner,
by coach as far as the Temple, and there saw a new book, in folio, of all
that suffered for the King in the late times, which I will buy, it seems
well writ, and then back to the Old Exchange, and there at my goldsmith's
bought a basin for my wife to give the Parson's child, to which the other
day she was godmother. It cost me; L10 14s. besides graving, which I do
with the cypher of the name, Daniel Mills, and so home to the office, and
then home to supper and hear my wife read, and then to bed. This
afternoon, after dinner, come to me Mr. Warren, and there did tell me that
he come to pay his debt to me for the kindness I did him in getting his
last ship out, which I must also remember was a service to the King,
though I did not tell him so, as appeared by my advising with the board,
and there writing to Sir W. Coventry to get the pass for the ship to go
for it to Genoa. Now that which he had promised me for the courtesy was I
take it 100 pieces or more, I think more, and also for the former courtesy
I had done for the getting of his first ship out for this hemp he did
promise me a consideration upon the return of the goods, but I never did
to this day demand any thing of him, only about a month ago he told me
that now his ship was come, and he would come out of my debt, but told me
that whereas he did expect to have had some profit by the voyage, it had
proved of loss to him, by the loss of some ships, or some accidents, I
know not what, and so that he was not able to do what he intended, but
told me that he would present me with sixty pieces in gold. I told him I
would demand nothing of his promises, though they were much greater, nor
would have thus much, but if he could afford to give me but fifty pieces,
it should suffice me. So now he brought something in a paper, which since
proves to be fifty pieces. But before I would take them I told him that I
did not insist on anything, and therefore prayed him to consult his
ability before he did part with them: and so I refused them once or twice
till he did the third time offer them, and then I took them, he saying
that he would present me with as many more if I would undertake to get him
L500 paid on his bills. I told him I would by no means have any promise
of the kind, nor would have any kindness from him for any such service,
but that I should do my utmost for nothing to do him that justice, and
would endeavour to do what I could for him, and so we parted, he owning
himself mightily engaged to me for my kind usage of him in accepting of so
small a matter in satisfaction of all that he owed me; which I enter at
large for my justification if anything of this should be hereafter
enquired after. This evening also comes to me to my closet at the Office
Sir John Chichly, of his own accord, to tell me what he shall answer to
the Committee, when, as he expects, he shall be examined about my Lord
Sandwich; which is so little as will not hurt my Lord at all, I know. He
do profess great generousness towards my Lord, and that this jealousy of
my Lord's of him is without ground, but do mightily inveigh against Sir
Roger Cuttance, and would never have my Lord to carry him to sea again, as
being a man that hath done my Lord more hurt than ever he can repair by
his ill advice, and disobliging every body. He will by no means seem to
crouch to my Lord, but says that he hath as good blood in his veins as any
man, though not so good a title, but that he will do nothing to wrong or
prejudice my Lord, and I hope he will not, nor I believe can; but he tells
me that Sir E. Spragg and Utber are the men that have done my Lord the
most wrong, and did bespatter him the most at Oxford, and that my Lord was
misled to believe that all that was there said was his, which indeed it
was not, and says that he did at that time complain to his father of this
his misfortune. This I confess is strange to me touching these two men,
but yet it may well enough as the world goes, though I wonder I confess at
the latter of the two, who always professes great love to my Lord. Sir
Roger Cuttance was with me in the morning, and there gives me an account
so clear about Bergen and the other business against my Lord, as I do not
see what can be laid to my Lord in either, and tells me that Pen, however
he now dissembles it, did on the quarter deck of my Lord's ship, after he
come on board, when my Lord did fire a gun for the ships to leave pursuing
the enemy, Pen did say, before a great many, several times, that his heart
did leap in his belly for joy when he heard the gun, and that it was the
best thing that could be done for securing the fleet. He tells me also
that Pen was the first that did move and persuade my Lord to the breaking
bulke, as a thing that was now the time to do right to the commanders of
the great ships, who had no opportunity of getting anything by prizes, now
his Lordship might distribute to everyone something, and he himself did
write down before my Lord the proportions for each man. This I am glad
of, though it may be this dissembling fellow may, twenty to one, deny it.

27th. Up, and all the morning at my Lord Bruncker's lodgings with Sir J.
Minnes and [Sir] W. Pen about Sir W. Warren's accounts, wherein I do not
see that they are ever very likely to come to an understanding of them, as
Sir J. Minnes hath not yet handled them. Here till noon, and then home to
dinner, where Mr. Pierce comes to me, and there, in general, tells me how
the King is now fallen in and become a slave to the Duke of Buckingham,
led by none but him, whom he, Mr. Pierce, swears he knows do hate the very
person of the King, and would, as well as will, certainly ruin him. He do
say, and I think with right, that the King do in this do the most
ungrateful part of a master to a servant that ever was done, in this
carriage of his to my Lord Chancellor: that, it may be, the Chancellor may
have faults, but none such as these they speak of; that he do now really
fear that all is going to ruin, for he says he hears that Sir W. Coventry
hath been, just before his sickness, with the Duke of York, to ask his
forgiveness and peace for what he had done; for that he never could
foresee that what he meant so well, in the councilling to lay by the
Chancellor, should come to this. As soon as dined, I with my boy Tom to
my bookbinder's, where all the afternoon long till 8 or 9 at night seeing
him binding up two or three collections of letters and papers that I had
of him, but above all things my little abstract pocket book of contracts,
which he will do very neatly. Then home to read, sup, and to bed.

28th. Up, and at the office all this morning, and then home to dinner,
and then by coach sent my wife to the King's playhouse, and I to White
Hall, there intending, with Lord Bruncker, Sir J. Minnes, and Sir T. Harvy
to have seen the Duke of York, whom it seems the King and Queen have
visited, and so we may now well go to see him. But there was nobody could
speak with him, and so we parted, leaving a note in Mr. Wren's chamber
that we had been there, he being at the free conference of the two Houses
about this great business of my Lord Chancellor's, at which they were at
this hour, three in the afternoon, and there they say my Lord Anglesey do
his part admirablyably, and each of us taking a copy of the Guinny
Company's defence to a petition against them to the Parliament the other
day. So I away to the King's playhouse, and there sat by my wife, and saw
"The Mistaken Beauty," which I never, I think, saw before, though an old
play; and there is much in it that I like, though the name is but improper
to it--at least, that name, it being also called "The Lyer," which is
proper enough. Here I met with Sir. Richard Browne, who wondered to find
me there, telling the that I am a man of so much business, which
character, I thank God, I have ever got, and have for a long time had and
deserved, and yet am now come to be censured in common with the office for
a man of negligence. Thence home and to the office to my letters, and
then home to supper and to bed.

29th. Waked about seven o'clock this morning with a noise I supposed I
heard, near our chamber, of knocking, which, by and by, increased: and I,
more awake, could, distinguish it better. I then waked my wife, and both
of us wondered at it, and lay so a great while, while that increased, and
at last heard it plainer, knocking, as if it were breaking down a window
for people to get out; and then removing of stools and chairs; and
plainly, by and by, going up and down our stairs. We lay, both of us,
afeard; yet I would have rose, but my wife would not let me. Besides, I
could not do it without making noise; and we did both conclude that
thieves were in the house, but wondered what our people did, whom we
thought either killed, or afeard, as we were. Thus we lay till the clock
struck eight, and high day. At last, I removed my gown and slippers
safely to the other side of the bed over my wife: and there safely rose,
and put on my gown and breeches, and then, with a firebrand in my hand,
safely opened the door, and saw nor heard any thing. Then (with fear, I
confess) went to the maid's chamber-door, and all quiet and safe. Called
Jane up, and went down safely, and opened my chamber door, where all well.
Then more freely about, and to the kitchen, where the cook-maid up, and
all safe. So up again, and when Jane come, and we demanded whether she
heard no noise, she said, "yes, and was afeard," but rose with the other
maid, and found nothing; but heard a noise in the great stack of chimnies
that goes from Sir J. Minnes through our house; and so we sent, and their
chimnies have been swept this morning, and the noise was that, and nothing
else. It is one of the most extraordinary accidents in my life, and gives
ground to think of Don Quixote's adventures how people may be surprised,
and the more from an accident last night, that our young gibb-cat

[A male cat. "Gib" is a contraction of the Christian name Gilbert
(Old French), "Tibert".

"I am melancholy as a gib-cat"

Shakespeare, I Henry IV, act i., sc. 3.

Gib alone is also used, and a verb made from it--"to gib," or act
like a cat.]

did leap down our stairs from top to bottom, at two leaps, and frighted
us, that we could not tell well whether it was the cat or a spirit, and do
sometimes think this morning that the house might be haunted. Glad to
have this so well over, and indeed really glad in my mind, for I was much
afeard, I dressed myself and to the office both forenoon and afternoon,
mighty hard putting papers and things in order to my extraordinary
satisfaction, and consulting my clerks in many things, who are infinite
helps to my memory and reasons of things, and so being weary, and my eyes
akeing, having overwrought them to-day reading so much shorthand, I home
and there to supper, it being late, and to bed. This morning Sir W. Pen
and I did walk together a good while, and he tells me that the Houses are
not likely to agree after their free conference yesterday, and he fears
what may follow.

30th. Up, and to the office, where all the morning, and then by coach to
Arundel House, to the election of Officers for the next year; where I was
near being chosen of the Council, but am glad I was not, for I could not
have attended, though, above all things, I could wish it; and do take it
as a mighty respect to have been named there. The company great, and the
elections long, and then to Cary House, a house now of entertainment, next
my Lord Ashly's; and there, where I have heretofore heard Common Prayer in
the time of Dr. Mossum, we after two hours' stay, sitting at the table
with our napkins open, had our dinners brought, but badly done. But here
was good company. I choosing to sit next Dr. Wilkins, Sir George Ent, and
others whom I value, there talked of several things. Among others Dr.
Wilkins, talking of the universal speech, of which he hath a book coming
out, did first inform me how man was certainly made for society, he being
of all creatures the least armed for defence, and of all creatures in the
world the young ones are not able to do anything to help themselves, nor
can find the dug without being put to it, but would die if the mother did
not help it; and, he says, were it not for speech man would be a very mean
creature. Much of this good discourse we had. But here, above all, I was
pleased to see the person who had his blood taken out. He speaks well,
and did this day give the Society a relation thereof in Latin, saying that
he finds himself much better since, and as a new man, but he is cracked a
little in his head, though he speaks very reasonably, and very well. He
had but 20s. for his suffering it, and is to have the same again tried
upon him: the first sound man that ever had it tried on him in England,
and but one that we hear of in France, which was a porter hired by the
virtuosos. Here all the afternoon till within night. Then I took coach
and to the Exchange, where I was to meet my wife, but she was gone home,
and so I to Westminster Hall, and there took a turn or two, but meeting
with nobody to discourse with, returned to Cary House, and there stayed
and saw a pretty deception of the sight by a glass with water poured into
it, with a stick standing up with three balls of wax upon it, one distant
from the other. How these balls did seem double and disappear one after
another, mighty pretty! Here Mr. Carcasse did come to me, and brought
first Mr. Colwall, our Treasurer, and then Dr. Wilkins to engage me to be
his friend, and himself asking forgiveness and desiring my friendship,
saying that the Council have now ordered him to be free to return to the
Office to be employed. I promised him my friendship, and am glad of this
occasion, having desired it; for there is nobody's ill tongue that I fear
like his, being a malicious and cunning bold fellow. Thence, paying our
shot, 6s. apiece, I home, and there to the office and wrote my letters,
and then home, my eyes very sore with yesterday's work, and so home and
tried to make a piece by my eare and viall to "I wonder what the grave,"
&c., and so to supper and to bed, where frighted a good while and my wife
again with noises, and my wife did rise twice, but I think it was Sir John
Minnes's people again late cleaning their house, for it was past I o'clock
in the morning before we could fall to sleep, and so slept. But I
perceive well what the care of money and treasure in a man's house is to a
man that fears to lose it. My Lord Anglesey told me this day that he did
believe the House of Commons would, the next week, yield to the Lords;
but, speaking with others this day, they conclude they will not, but that
rather the King will accommodate it by committing my Lord Clarendon
himself. I remember what Mr. Evelyn said, that he did believe we should
soon see ourselves fall into a Commonwealth again. Joseph Williamson I
find mighty kind still, but close, not daring to say anything almost that
touches upon news or state of affairs.

ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS:

Anthem anything but instrumentall musique with the voice
Chief Court of judicature (House of Lords)
Confidence, and vanity, and disparages everything
Had the umbles of it for dinner
I am not a man able to go through trouble, as other men
Liberty of speech in the House
Nor offer anything, but just what is drawn out of a man
Through my wife's illness had a bad night of it, and she a worse
What I said would not hold water





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

EDITED WITH ADDITIONS BY

HENRY B. WHEATLEY F.S.A.

DIARY OF SAMUEL PEPYS.
DECEMBER
1667

December 1st (Lord's day). Up, and after entering my journal for 2 or 3
days, I to church, where Mr. Mills, a dull sermon: and in our pew there
sat a great lady, which I afterwards understood to be my Lady Carlisle,
that made her husband a cuckold in Scotland, a very fine woman indeed in
person. After sermon home, where W. Hewer dined with us, and after dinner
he and I all the afternoon to read over our office letters to see what
matters can be got for our advantage or disadvantage therein. In the
evening comes Mr. Pelling and the two men that were with him formerly, the
little man that sings so good a base (Wallington) and another that
understands well, one Pigott, and Betty Turner come and sat and supped
with us, and we spent the evening mighty well in good musique, to my great
content to see myself in condition to have these and entertain them for my
own pleasure only. So they gone, we to bed.

2nd. Up, and then abroad to Alderman Backewell's (who was sick of a cold
in bed), and then to the Excise Office, where I find Mr. Ball out of
humour in expectation of being put out of his office by the change of the
farm of the excise. There comes Sir H. Cholmly, and he and I to
Westminster, and there walked up and down till noon, where all the
business is that the Lords' answer is come down to the Commons, that they
are not satisfied in the Commons' Reasons: and so the Commons are hot, and
like to sit all day upon the business what to do herein, most thinking
that they will remonstrate against the Lords. Thence to Lord Crew's, and
there dined with him; where, after dinner, he took me aside, and bewailed
the condition of the nation, how the King and his brother are at a
distance about this business of the Chancellor, and the two Houses
differing. And he do believe that there are so many about the King like
to be concerned and troubled by the Parliament, that they will get him to
dissolve or prorogue the Parliament; and the rather, for that the King is
likely, by this good husbandry of the Treasury, to get out of debt, and
the Parliament is likely to give no money. Among other things, my Lord
Crew did tell me, with grief, that he hears that the King of late hath not
dined nor supped with the Queen, as he used of late to do. After a little
discourse, Mr. Caesar, he dining there, did give us some musique on his
lute (Mr. John Crew being there) to my great content, and then away I, and
Mr. Caesar followed me and told me that my boy Tom hath this day declared
to him that he cared not for the French lute and would learn no more,
which Caesar out of faithfulness tells me that I might not spend any more
money on him in vain. I shall take the boy to task about it, though I am
contented to save my money if the boy knows not what is good for himself.
So thanked him, and indeed he is a very honest man I believe, and away
home, there to get something ready for the Lords Commissioners of the
Treasury, and so took my wife and girle and set them at Unthanke's, and I
to White Hall, and there with the Commissioners of the Treasury, who I
find in mighty good condition to go on in payment of the seamen off, and
thence I to Westminster Hall, where I met with my cozen Roger and walked a
good while with him; he tells me of the high vote of the Commons this
afternoon, which I also heard at White Hall, that the proceedings of the
Lords in the case of my Lord Clarendon are an obstruction to justice, and
of ill precedent to future times. This makes every body wonder what will
be the effect of it, most thinking that the King will try him by his own
Commission. It seems they were mighty high to have remonstrated, but some
said that was too great an appeale to the people. Roger is mighty full of
fears of the consequence of it, and wishes the King would dissolve them.
So we parted, and I bought some Scotch cakes at Wilkinson's in King
Street, and called my wife, and home, and there to supper, talk, and to
bed. Supped upon these cakes, of which I have eat none since we lived at
Westminster. This night our poor little dogg Fancy was in a strange fit,
through age, of which she has had five or six.

3rd. Up, by candlelight, the only time I think I have done so this
winter, and a coach being got over night, I to Sir W. Coventry's, the
first time I have seen him at his new house since he come to lodge there.
He tells me of the vote for none of the House to be of the Commission for
the Bill of Accounts; which he thinks is so great a disappointment to
Birch and others that expected to be of it, that he thinks, could it have
been [fore]seen, there would not have been any Bill at all. We hope it
will be the better for all that are to account; it being likely that the
men, being few, and not of the House, will hear reason. The main business
I went about was about. Gilsthrop, Sir W. Batten's clerk; who, being upon
his death-bed, and now dead, hath offered to make discoveries of the
disorders of the Navy and of L65,000 damage to the King: which made mighty
noise in the Commons' House; and members appointed to go to him, which
they did; but nothing to the purpose got from him, but complaints of false
musters, and ships being refitted with victuals and stores at Plymouth,
after they come fitted from other ports; but all this to no purpose, nor
more than we know, and will owne. But the best is, that this loggerhead
should say this, that understands nothing of the Navy, nor ever would; and
hath particularly blemished his master by name among us. I told Sir W.
Coventry of my letter to Sir R. Brookes, and his answer to me. He advises
me, in what I write to him, to be as short as I can, and obscure, saving
in things fully plain; for all that he do is to make mischief; and that
the greatest wisdom in dealing with the Parliament in the world is to say
little, and let them get out what they can by force: which I shall
observe. He declared to me much of his mind to be ruled by his own
measures, and not to go so far as many would have him to the ruin of my
Lord Chancellor, and for which they do endeavour to do what they can
against [Sir] W. Coventry. "But," says he, "I have done my do in helping
to get him out of the administration of things, for which he is not fit;
but for his life or estate I will have nothing to say to it: besides that,
my duty to my master the Duke of York is such, that I will perish before I
will do any thing to displease or disoblige him, where the very necessity
of the kingdom do not in my judgment call me." Thence I home and to the
office, where my Lord Anglesey, and all the discourse was yesterday's vote
in the Commons, wherein he told us that, should the Lords yield to what
the Commons would have in this matter, it were to make them worse than any
justice of Peace (whereas they are the highest Court in the Kingdom) that
they cannot be judges whether an offender be to be committed or bailed,
which every justice of Peace do do, and then he showed me precedents plain
in their defence. At noon home to dinner, and busy all the afternoon, and
at night home, and there met W. Batelier, who tells me the first great
news that my Lord Chancellor is fled this day. By and by to Sir W. Pen's,
where Sir R. Ford and he and I met, with Mr. Young and Lewes, about our
accounts with my Lady Batten, which prove troublesome, and I doubt will
prove to our loss. But here I hear the whole that my Lord Chancellor is
gone, and left a paper behind him for the House of Lords, telling them the
reason of him retiring, complaining of a design for his ruin. But the
paper I must get: only the thing at present is great, and will put the
King and Commons to some new counsels certainly. So home to supper and to
bed. Sir W. Pen I find in much trouble this evening, having been called to
the Committee this afternoon, about the business of prizes. Sir Richard
Ford told us this evening an odd story of the basenesse of the late Lord
Mayor, Sir W. Bolton, in cheating the poor of the City, out of the
collections made for the people that were burned, of L1800; of which he
can give no account, and in which he hath forsworn himself plainly, so as
the Court of Aldermen have sequestered him from their Court till he do
bring in an account, which is the greatest piece of roguery that they say
was ever found in a Lord Mayor. He says also that this day hath been made
appear to them that the Keeper of Newgate, at this day, hath made his
house the only nursery of rogues, and whores, and pickpockets, and thieves
in the world; where they were bred and entertained, and the whole society
met: and that, for the sake of the Sheriffes, they durst not this day
committ him, for fear of making him let out the prisoners, but are fain to
go by artifice to deal with him. He tells me, also, speaking of the new
street that is to be made from Guild Hall down to Cheapside, that the
ground is already, most of it, bought. And tells me of one particular, of
a man that hath a piece of ground lieing in the very middle of the street
that must be; which, when the street is cut out of it, there will remain
ground enough, of each side, to build a house to front the street. He
demanded L700 for the ground, and to be excused paying any thing for the
melioration of the rest of his ground that he was to keep. The Court
consented to give him L700, only not to abate him the consideration: which
the man denied; but told them, and so they agreed, that he would excuse
the City the L700, that he might have the benefit of the melioration
without paying any thing for it. So much some will get by having the City
burned! But he told me that in other cases ground, by this means, that
was not 4d. a-foot before, will now, when houses are built, be worth 15s.
a-foot. But he tells me that the common standard now reckoned on between
man and man, in places where there is no alteration of circumstances, but
only the houses burnt, there the ground, which, with a house on it, did
yield L100 a-year, is now reputed worth L33 6s. 8d.; and that this is the
common market-price between one man and another, made upon a good and
moderate medium.

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35 | 36 | 37 | 38 | 39 | 40 | 41 | 42 | 43

Books of The Times: A 5th Gospel Can Be Like a 5th Wheel
In Michel Faber’s novel based on the Prometheus myth, a linguist discovers what appears to be a fifth Gospel, a new account of the Crucifixion.

Arts, Briefly: False Memoir May Find New Life as Fiction
An independent publisher said it was negotiating to release Herman Rosenblat’s discredited memoir, “Angel at the Fence,” as fiction.

Currents | Books: 11 More Great Homes
The architectural historian Kenneth Frampton has updated his 1995 book with 11 additional houses.

Copyright (c) 2007. fullbooks.net. All rights reserved.