Diary of Samuel Pepys, December 1667
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Samuel Pepys >> Diary of Samuel Pepys, December 1667
24th. Up, and all the morning at the office, and at noon with my clerks
to dinner, and then to the office again, busy at the office till six at
night, and then by coach to St. James's, it being about six at night; my
design being to see the ceremonys, this night being the eve of Christmas,
at the Queen's chapel. But it being not begun I to Westminster Hall, and
there staid and walked, and then to the Swan, and there drank and talked,
and did banter a little Frank, and so to White Hall, and sent my coach
round, I through the Park to chapel, where I got in up almost to the rail,
and with a great deal of patience staid from nine at night to two in the
morning, in a very great crowd; and there expected, but found nothing
extraordinary, there being nothing but a high masse. The Queen was there,
and some ladies. But, Lord! what an odde thing it was for me to be in a
crowd of people, here a footman, there a beggar, here a fine lady, there a
zealous poor papist, and here a Protestant, two or three together, come to
see the shew. I was afeard of my pocket being picked very much . . . .
Their musique very good indeed, but their service I confess too frivolous,
that there can be no zeal go along with it, and I do find by them
themselves that they do run over their beads with one hand, and point and
play and talk and make signs with the other in the midst of their masse.
But all things very rich and beautiful; and I see the papists have the
wit, most of them, to bring cushions to kneel on, which I wanted, and was
mightily troubled to kneel. All being done, and I sorry for my coming,
missing of what I expected; which was, to have had a child born and
dressed there, and a great deal of do: but we broke up, and nothing like
it done: and there I left people receiving the Sacrament: and the Queen
gone, and ladies; only my Lady Castlemayne, who looked prettily in her
night-clothes, and so took my coach, which waited, and away through Covent
Garden, to set down two gentlemen and a lady, who come thither to see
also, and did make mighty mirth in their talk of the folly of this
religion. And so I stopped, having set them down and drank some burnt
wine at the Rose Tavern door, while the constables come, and two or three
Bellmen went by,
25th. It being a fine, light, moonshine morning, and so home round the
city, and stopped and dropped money at five or six places, which I was the
willinger to do, it being Christmas-day, and so home, and there find my
wife in bed, and Jane and the maids making pyes, and so I to bed, and
slept well, and rose about nine, and to church, and there heard a dull
sermon of Mr. Mills, but a great many fine people at church; and so home.
Wife and girl and I alone at dinner--a good Christmas dinner, and all the
afternoon at home, my wife reading to me "The History of the Drummer of
Mr. Mompesson," which is a strange story of spies, and worth reading
indeed. In the evening comes Mr. Pelling, and he sat and supped with us;
and very good company, he reciting to us many copies of good verses of Dr.
Wilde, who writ "Iter Boreale," and so to bed, my boy being gone with W.
Hewer and Mr. Hater to Mr. Gibson's in the country to dinner and lie there
all night.
26th. Up and to Westminster, and there to the Swan, and by chance met Mr.
Spicer and another 'Chequer clerk, and there made them drink, and there
talked of the credit the 'Chequer is now come to and will in a little
time, and so away homeward, and called at my bookseller's, and there
bought Mr. Harrington's works, "Oceana," &c., and two other books, which
cost me L4, and so home, and there eat a bit, and then with my wife to the
King's playhouse, and there saw "The Surprizall;" which did not please me
to-day, the actors not pleasing me; and especially Nell's acting of a
serious part, which she spoils. Here met with Sir W. Pen, and sat by him,
and home by coach with him, and there to my office a while, and then home
to supper and to bed. I hear this day that Mrs. Stewart do at this day
keep a great court at Somerset House, with her husband the Duke of
Richmond, she being visited for her beauty's sake by people, as the Queen
is, at nights; and they say also that she is likely to go to Court again,
and there put my Lady Castlemayne's nose out of joynt. God knows that
would make a great turn. This day I was invited to have gone to my cozen
Mary Pepys' burial, my uncle Thomas' daughter, but could not.
27th. Up, and by water to White Hall, and there walked with Creed in the
Matted gallery till by and by a Committee for Tangier met: the Duke of
York there; and there I did discourse over to them their condition as to
money, which they were all mightily, as I could desire, satisfied with,
but the Duke of Albemarle, who takes the part of the Guards against us in
our supplies of money, which is an odd consideration for a dull, heavy
blockhead as he is, understanding no more of either than a goose: but the
ability and integrity of Sir W. Coventry, in all the King's concernments,
I do and must admire. After the Committee up, I and Sir W. Coventry
walked an hour in the gallery, talking over many businesses, and he tells
me that there are so many things concur to make him and his Fellow
Commissioners unable to go through the King's work that he do despair of
it, every body becoming an enemy to them in their retrenchments, and the
King unstable, the debts great and the King's present occasions for money
great and many and pressing, the bankers broke and every body keeping in
their money, while the times are doubtful what will stand. But he says
had they come in two years ago they doubt not to have done what the King
would by this time, or were the King in the condition as heretofore, when
the Chancellor was great, to be able to have what sums of money they
pleased of the Parliament, and then the ill administration was such that
instead of making good use of this power and money he suffered all to go
to ruin. But one such sum now would put all upon their legs, and now the
King would have the Parliament give him money when they are in an ill
humour and will not be willing to give any, nor are very able, and besides
every body distrusts what they give the King will be lost; whereas six
months hence, when they see that the King can live without them, and is
become steady, and to manage what he has well, he doubts not but their
doubts would be removed, and would be much more free as well as more able
to give him money. He told me how some of his enemies at the Duke of
York's had got the Duke of York's commission for the Commissioners of his
estate changed, and he and Brouncker and Povy left out: that this they did
do to disgrace and impose upon him at this time; but that he, though he
values not the thing, did go and tell the Duke of York what he heard, and
that he did not think that he had given him any reason to do this, out of
his belief that he would not be as faithful and serviceable to him as the
best of those that have got him put out. Whereupon the Duke of York did
say that it arose only from his not knowing whether now he would have time
to regard his affairs; and that, if he should, he would put him into the
commission with his own hand, though the commission be passed. He
answered that he had been faithful to him, and done him good service
therein, so long as he could attend it; and if he had been able to have
attended it more, he would not have enriched himself with such and such
estates as my Lord Chancellor hath got, that did properly belong to his
Royal Highness, as being forfeited to the King, and so by the King's gift
given to the Duke of York. Hereupon the Duke of York did call for the
commission, and hath since put him in. This he tells me he did only to
show his enemies that he is not so low as to be trod on by them, or the
Duke hath any so bad opinion of him as they would think. Here we parted,
and I with Sir H. Cholmly went and took a turn into the Park, and there
talked of several things, and about Tangier particularly, and of his
management of his business, and among other discourse about the method he
will leave his accounts in if he should suddenly die, he says there is
nothing but what is easily understood, but only a sum of L500 which he has
entered given to E. E. S., which in great confidence he do discover to me
to be my Lord Sandwich, at the beginning of their contract for the Mole,
and I suppose the rest did the like, which was L1500, which would appear a
very odd thing for my Lord to be a profiter by the getting of the contract
made for them. But here it puts me into thoughts how I shall own my
receiving of L200 a year from him, but it is his gift, I never asked of
him, and which he did to Mr. Povy, and so there is no great matter in it.
Thence to other talk. He tells me that the business of getting the
Duchess of Richmond to Court is broke off, the Duke not suffering it; and
thereby great trouble is brought among the people that endeavoured it, and
thought they had compassed it. And, Lord! to think that at this time the
King should mind no other cares but these! He tells me that my Lord of
Canterbury is a mighty stout man, and a man of a brave, high spirit, and
cares not for this disfavour that he is under at Court, knowing that the
King cannot take away his profits during his life, and therefore do not
value it.
[This character of Archbishop Sheldon does not tally with the
scandal that Pepys previously reported of him. Burnet has some
passages of importance on this in his "Own Time," Book II. He
affirms that Charles's final decision to throw over Clarendon was
caused by the Chancellor's favouring Mrs. Stewart's marriage with
the Duke of Richmond. The king had a conference with Sheldon on the
removal of Clarendon, but could not convert the archbishop to his
view. Lauderdale told Burnet that he had an account of the
interview from the king. "The king and Sheldon had gone into such
expostulations upon it that from that day forward Sheldon could
never recover the king's confidence."]
Thence I home, and there to my office and wrote a letter to the Duke of
York from myself about my clerks extraordinary, which I have employed this
war, to prevent my being obliged to answer for what others do without any
reason demand allowance for, and so by this means I will be accountable
for none but my own, and they shall not have them but upon the same terms
that I have, which is a profession that with these helps they will answer
to their having performed their duties of their places. So to dinner, and
then away by coach to the Temple, and then for speed by water thence to
White Hall, and there to our usual attending the Duke of York, and did
attend him, where among other things I did present and lodge my letter,
and did speed in it as I could wish. Thence home with Sir W. Pen and
Comm. Middleton by coach, and there home and to cards with my wife, W.
Hewer, Mercer, and the girle, and mighty pleasant all the evening, and so
to bed with my wife, which I have not done since her being ill for three
weeks or thereabouts.
28th. Up, and to the office, where busy all the morning, at noon home,
and there to dinner with my clerks and Mr. Pelting, and had a very good
dinner, among others a haunch of venison boiled, and merry we were, and I
rose soon from dinner, and with my wife and girle to the King's house, and
there saw "The Mad Couple," which is but an ordinary play; but only Nell's
and Hart's mad parts are most excellently done, but especially hers: which
makes it a miracle to me to think how ill she do any serious part, as, the
other day, just like a fool or changeling; and, in a mad part, do beyond
all imitation almost. [It pleased us mightily to see the natural
affection of a poor woman, the mother of one of the children brought on
the stage: the child crying, she by force got upon the stage, and took up
her child and carried it away off of the stage from Hart.] Many fine faces
here to-day. Thence home, and there to the office late, and then home to
supper and to bed. I am told to-day, which troubles me, that great
complaint is made upon the 'Change, among our merchants, that the very
Ostend little pickaroon men-of-war do offer violence to our merchant-men,
and search them, beat our masters, and plunder them, upon pretence of
carrying Frenchmen's goods. Lord! what a condition are we come to, and
that so soon after a war!
29th (Lord's day). Up, and at my chamber all the day, both morning and
afternoon (only a little at dinner with my wife alone), upon the settling
of my Tangier accounts towards the evening of all reckonings now against
the new year, and here I do see the great folly of letting things go long
unevened, it being very hard for me and dangerous to state after things
are gone out of memory, and much more would be so should I have died in
this time and my accounts come to other hands, to understand which would
never be. At night comes Mrs. Turner to see us; and there, among other
talk, she tells me that Mr. William Pen, who is lately come over from
Ireland, is a Quaker again, or some very melancholy thing; that he cares
for no company, nor comes into any which is a pleasant thing, after his
being abroad so long, and his father such a hypocritical rogue, and at
this time an Atheist. She gone, I to my very great content do find my
accounts to come very even and naturally, and so to supper and to bed.
30th. Up before day, and by coach to Westminster, and there first to Sir
H. Cholmly, and there I did to my great content deliver him up his little
several papers for sums of money paid him, and took his regular receipts
upon his orders, wherein I am safe. Thence to White Hall, and there to
visit Sir G. Carteret, and there was with him a great while, and my Lady
and they seem in very good humour, but by and by Sir G. Carteret and I
alone, and there we did talk of the ruinous condition we are in, the King
being going to put out of the Council so many able men; such as my Lord
Anglesey, Ashly, Hopis, Secretary Morrice (to bring in Mr. Trevor), and
the Archbishop of Canterbury, and my Lord Bridgewater. He tells me that
this is true, only the Duke of York do endeavour to hinder it, and the
Duke of York himself did tell him so: that the King and the Duke of York
do not in company disagree, but are friendly; but that there is a core in
their hearts, he doubts, which is not to be easily removed; for these men
do suffer only for their constancy to the Chancellor, or at least from the
King's ill-will against him: that they do now all they can to vilify the
clergy, and do accuse Rochester [Dolben] . . . and so do raise
scandals, all that is possible, against other of the Bishops. He do
suggest that something is intended for the Duke of Monmouth, and it may
be, against the Queene also: that we are in no manner sure against an
invasion the next year: that the Duke of Buckingham do rule all now, and
the Duke of York comes indeed to the Caball, but signifies little there.
That this new faction do not endure, nor the King, Sir W. Coventry; but
yet that he is so usefull that they cannot be without him; but that he is
not now called to the Caball. That my Lord of Buckingham, Bristoll, and
Arlington, do seem to agree in these things; but that they do not in their
hearts trust one another, but do drive several ways, all of them. In
short, he do bless himself that he is no more concerned in matters now;
and the hopes he hath of being at liberty, when his accounts are over, to
retire into the country. That he do give over the kingdom for wholly
lost. So after some other little discourse, I away, meeting with Mr.
Cooling. I with him by coach to the Wardrobe, where I never was since the
fire in Hatton Garden, but did not 'light: and he tells me he fears that
my Lord Sandwich will suffer much by Mr. Townsend's being untrue to him,
he being now unable to give the Commissioners of the Treasury an account
of his money received by many thousands of pounds, which I am troubled
for. Thence to the Old Exchange together, he telling me that he believes
there will be no such turning out of great men as is talked of, but that
it is only to fright people, but I do fear there may be such a thing
doing. He do mightily inveigh against the folly of the King to bring his
matters to wrack thus, and that we must all be undone without help. I met
with Cooling at the Temple-gate, after I had been at both my booksellers
and there laid out several pounds in books now against the new year. From
the 'Change (where I met with Captain Cocke, who would have borrowed money
of me, but I had the grace to deny him, he would have had 3 or L400) I
with Cocke and Mr. Temple (whose wife was just now brought to bed of a
boy, but he seems not to be at all taken with it, which is a strange
consideration how others do rejoice to have a child born), to Sir G.
Carteret's, in Lincoln's Inn Fields, and there did dine together, there
being there, among other company, Mr. Attorney Montagu, and his fine lady,
a fine woman. After dinner, I did understand from my Lady Jemimah that
her brother Hinchingbroke's business was to be ended this day, as she
thinks, towards his match, and they do talk here of their intent to buy
themselves some new clothes against the wedding, which I am very glad of.
After dinner I did even with Sir G. Carteret the accounts of the interest
of the money which I did so long put out for him in Sir R. Viner's hands,
and by it I think I shall be a gainer about L28, which is a very good
reward for the little trouble I have had in it. Thence with Sir Philip
Carteret to the King's playhouse, there to see "Love's Cruelty," an old
play, but which I have not seen before; and in the first act Orange Moll
come to me, with one of our porters by my house, to tell me that Mrs.
Pierce and Knepp did dine at my house to-day, and that I was desired to
come home. So I went out presently, and by coach home, and they were just
gone away so, after a very little stay with my wife, I took coach again,
and to the King's playhouse again, and come in the fourth act; and it
proves to me a very silly play, and to everybody else, as far as I could
judge. But the jest is, that here telling Moll how I had lost my journey,
she told me that Mrs. Knepp was in the house, and so shews me to her, and
I went to her, and sat out the play, and then with her to Mrs. Manuel's,
where Mrs. Pierce was, and her boy and girl; and here I did hear Mrs.
Manuel and one of the Italians, her gallant, sing well. But yet I confess
I am not delighted so much with it, as to admire it: for, not
understanding the words, I lose the benefit of the vocalitys of the
musick, and it proves only instrumental; and therefore was more pleased to
hear Knepp sing two or three little English things that I understood,
though the composition of the other, and performance, was very fine.
Thence, after sitting and talking a pretty while, I took leave and left
them there, and so to my bookseller's, and paid for the books I had
bought, and away home, where I told my wife where I had been. But she was
as mad as a devil, and nothing but ill words between us all the evening
while we sat at cards--W. Hewer and the girl by--even to gross ill words,
which I was troubled for, but do see that I must use policy to keep her
spirit down, and to give her no offence by my being with Knepp and Pierce,
of which, though she will not own it, yet she is heartily jealous. At
last it ended in few words and my silence (which for fear of growing
higher between us I did forbear), and so to supper and to bed without one
word one to another. This day I did carry money out, and paid several
debts. Among others, my tailor, and shoemaker, and draper, Sir W. Turner,
who begun to talk of the Commission of accounts, wherein he is one; but
though they are the greatest people that ever were in the nation as to
power, and like to be our judges, yet I did never speak one word to him of
desiring favour, or bidding him joy in it, but did answer him to what he
said, and do resolve to stand or fall by my silent preparing to answer
whatever can be laid to me, and that will be my best proceeding, I think.
This day I got a little rent in my new fine camlett cloak with the latch
of Sir G. Carteret's door; but it is darned up at my tailor's, that it
will be no great blemish to it; but it troubled me. I could not but
observe that Sir Philip Carteret would fain have given me my going into a
play; but yet, when he come to the door, he had no money to pay for
himself, I having refused to accept of it for myself, but was fain; and I
perceive he is known there, and do run upon the score for plays, which is
a shame; but I perceive always he is in want of money.
[The practice of gallants attending the theatre without payment is
illustrated by Mr. Lowe in his "Betterton," from Shadwell's "True
Widow":
"1st Doorkeeper. Pray, sir, pay me: my masters will make me
pay it.
3d Man. Impudent rascal, do you ask me for money? Take that,
sirrah.
2nd Doorkeeper. Will you pay me, sir?
4th Man. No; I don't intend to stay.
2nd Doorkeeper. So you say every day, and see two or three
acts for nothing."]
In the pit I met with Sir Ch. North, formerly Mr. North, who was with my
Lord at sea; and he, of his own accord, was so silly as to tell me he is
married; and for her quality (being a Lord's daughter, my Lord Grey), and
person, and beauty, and years, and estate, and disposition, he is the
happiest man in the world. I am sure he is an ugly fellow; but a good
scholar and sober gentleman; and heir to his father, now Lord North, the
old Lord being dead.
31st. Up, without words to my wife, or few, and those not angry, and so
to White Hall, and there waited a long time, while the Duke of York was
with the King in the Caball, and there I and Creed stayed talking without,
in the Vane-Room, and I perceive all people's expectation is, what will be
the issue of this great business of putting these great Lords out of the
council and power, the quarrel, I perceive, being only their standing
against the will of the King in the business of the Chancellor. Anon the
Duke of York comes out, and then to a committee of Tangier, where my Lord
Middleton did come to-day, and seems to me but a dull, heavy man; but he
is a great soldier, and stout, and a needy Lord, which will still keep
that poor garrison from ever coming to be worth anything to the King.
Here, after a short meeting, we broke up, and I home to the office, where
they are sitting, and so I to them, and having done our business rose, and
I home to dinner with my people, and there dined with me my uncle Thomas,
with a mourning hat-band on, for his daughter Mary, and here I and my
people did discourse of the Act for the accounts,
["An Act for taking the Accompts of the several sums of money therein
menconed, 19 and 20 Car. II., c. I. The commissioners were
empowered to call before them all Treasurers, Receivers,
Paymasters, Principal Officers and Commissioners of the Navy and
Ordnance respectively, Pursers, Mustermasters and Clerks of the
Cheque, Accomptants, and all Officers and Keepers of his Majesties
Stores and Provisions for Warr as well for Land as Sea, and all
other persons whatsoever imployed in the management of the said Warr
or requisite for the discovery of any frauds relating thereunto,"
&c., &c. ("Statutes of the Realm," vol. v., pp. 624,627).]
which do give the greatest power to these people, as they report that have
read it (I having not yet read it, and indeed its nature is such as I have
no mind to go about to read it, for fear of meeting matter in it to
trouble me), that ever was given to any subjects, and too much also. After
dinner with my wife and girl to Unthanke's, and there left her, and I to
Westminster, and there to Mrs. Martin's, and did hazer con elle what I
desired, and there did drink with her, and find fault with her husband's
wearing of too fine clothes, by which I perceive he will be a beggar, and
so after a little talking I away and took up my wife again, and so home
and to the office, where Captain Perryman did give me an account, walking
in the garden, how the seamen of England are discouraged by want of money
(or otherwise by being, as he says, but I think without cause, by their
being underrated) so far as that he thinks the greatest part are gone
abroad or going, and says that it is known that there are Irish in the
town, up and down, that do labour to entice the seamen out of the nation
by giving them L3 in hand, and promise of 40s. per month, to go into the
King of France's service, which is a mighty shame, but yet I believe is
true. I did advise with him about my little vessel, "The Maybolt," which
he says will be best for me to sell, though my employing her to Newcastle
this winter, and the next spring, for coles, will be a gainful trade, but
yet make me great trouble, but I will think of it, and so to my office,
ended my letters, and so home to supper and to bed, good friends with my
wife. Thus ends the year, with great happiness to myself and family as to
health and good condition in the world, blessed be God for it! only with
great trouble to my mind in reference to the publick, there being little
hopes left but that the whole nation must in a very little time be lost,
either by troubles at home, the Parliament being dissatisfied, and the
King led into unsettled councils by some about him, himself considering
little, and divisions growing between the King and Duke of York; or else
by foreign invasion, to which we must submit if any, at this bad point of
time, should come upon us, which the King of France is well able to do.
These thoughts, and some cares upon me, concerning my standing in this
Office when the Committee of Parliament shall come to examine our Navy
matters, which they will now shortly do. I pray God they may do the
kingdom service therein, as they will have sufficient opportunity of doing
it!