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Diary of Samuel Pepys, September 1667

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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.
SEPTEMBER
1667

September 1st (Lord's day). Up, and betimes by water from the Tower, and
called at the Old Swan for a glass of strong water, and sent word to have
little Michell and his wife come and dine with us to-day; and so, taking
in a gentleman and his lady that wanted a boat, I to Westminster. Setting
them on shore at Charing Cross, I to Mrs. Martin's, where I had two pair
of cuffs which I bespoke, and there did sit and talk with her . . . .
and here I did see her little girle my goddaughter, which will be
pretty, and there having staid a little I away to Creed's chamber, and
when he was ready away to White Hall, where I met with several people and
had my fill of talk. Our new Lord-keeper, Bridgeman, did this day, the
first time, attend the King to chapel with his Seal. Sir H. Cholmly tells
me there are hopes that the women will also have a rout, and particularly
that my Lady Castlemayne is coming to a composition with the King to be
gone; but how true this is, I know not. Blancfort is made Privy-purse to
the Duke of York; the Attorney-general is made Chief justice, in the room
of my Lord Bridgeman; the Solicitor-general is made Attorney-general; and
Sir Edward Turner made Solicitor-general. It is pretty to see how strange
every body looks, nobody knowing whence this arises; whether from my Lady
Castlemayne, Bab. May, and their faction; or from the Duke of York,
notwithstanding his great appearance of defence of the Chancellor; or from
Sir William Coventry, and some few with him. But greater changes are yet
expected. So home and by water to dinner, where comes Pelting and young
Michell and his wife, whom I have not seen a great while, poor girle, and
then comes Mr. Howe, and all dined with me very merry, and spent all the
afternoon, Pelting, Howe, and I, and my boy, singing of Lock's response to
the Ten Commandments, which he hath set very finely, and was a good while
since sung before the King, and spoiled in the performance, which
occasioned his printing them for his vindication, and are excellent good.
They parted, in the evening my wife and I to walk in the garden and there
scolded a little, I being doubtful that she had received a couple of fine
pinners (one of point de Gesne), which I feared she hath from some [one]
or other of a present; but, on the contrary, I find she hath bought them
for me to pay for them, without my knowledge. This do displease me much;
but yet do so much please me better than if she had received them the
other way, that I was not much angry, but fell to other discourse, and so
to my chamber, and got her to read to me for saving of my eyes, and then,
having got a great cold, I know not how, I to bed and lay ill at ease all
the night.

2nd. This day is kept in the City as a publick fast for the fire this day
twelve months: but I was not at church, being commanded, with the rest, to
attend the Duke of York; and, therefore, with Sir J. Minnes to St.
James's, where we had much business before the Duke of York, and observed
all things to be very kind between the Duke of York and W. Coventry, which
did mightily joy me. When we had done, Sir W. Coventry called me down
with him to his chamber, and there told me that he is leaving the Duke of
York's service, which I was amazed at. But he tells me that it is not
with the least unkindness on the Duke of York's side, though he expects,
and I told him he was in the right, it will be interpreted otherwise,
because done just at this time; "but," says he, "I did desire it a good
while since, and the Duke of York did, with much entreaty, grant it,
desiring that I would say nothing of it, that he might have time and
liberty to choose his successor, without being importuned for others whom
he should not like:" and that he hath chosen Mr. Wren, which I am glad of,
he being a very ingenious man; and so Sir W. Coventry says of him, though
he knows him little; but particularly commends him for the book he writ in
answer to "Harrington's Oceana," which, for that reason, I intend to buy.
He tells me the true reason is, that he, being a man not willing to
undertake more business than he can go through, and being desirous to have
his whole time to spend upon the business of the Treasury, and a little
for his own ease, he did desire this of the Duke of York. He assures me
that the kindness with which he goes away from the Duke of York is one of
the greatest joys that ever he had in the world. I used some freedom with
him, telling him how the world hath discoursed of his having offended the
Duke of York, about the late business of the Chancellor. He do not deny
it, but says that perhaps the Duke of York might have some reason for it,
he opposing him in a thing wherein he was so earnest but tells me, that,
notwithstanding all that, the Duke of York does not now, nor can blame
him; for he tells me that he was the man that did propose the removal of
the Chancellor; and that he did still persist in it, and at this day
publickly owns it, and is glad of it; but that the Duke of York knows that
he did first speak of it to the Duke of York, before he spoke to any
mortal creature besides, which was fair dealing: and the Duke of York was
then of the same mind with him, and did speak of it to the King; though
since, for reasons best known to himself, he was afterwards altered. I
did then desire to know what was the great matter that grounded his desire
of the Chancellor's removal? He told me many things not fit to be spoken,
and yet not any thing of his being unfaithful to the King; but, 'instar
omnium', he told me, that while he was so great at the Council-board, and
in the administration of matters, there was no room for any body to
propose any remedy to what was amiss, or to compass any thing, though
never so good for the kingdom, unless approved of by the Chancellor, he
managing all things with that greatness which now will be removed, that
the King may have the benefit of others' advice. I then told him that the
world hath an opinion that he hath joined himself with my Lady
Castlemayne's faction in this business; he told me, he cannot help it, but
says they are in an errour: but for first he will never, while he lives,
truckle under any body or any faction, but do just as his own reason and
judgment directs; and, when he cannot use that freedom, he will have
nothing to do in public affairs but then he added, that he never was the
man that ever had any discourse with my Lady Castlemayne, or with others
from her, about this or any public business, or ever made her a visit, or
at least not this twelvemonth, or been in her lodgings but when called on
any business to attend the King there, nor hath had any thing to do in
knowing her mind in this business. He ended all with telling me that he
knows that he that serves a Prince must expect, and be contented to stand,
all fortunes, and be provided to retreat, and that that he is most willing
to do whenever the King shall please. And so we parted, he setting me
down out of his coach at Charing Cross, and desired me to tell Sir W. Pen
what he had told me of his leaving the Duke of York's service, that his
friends might not be the last that know it. I took a coach and went
homewards; but then turned again, and to White Hall, where I met with many
people; and, among other things, do learn that there is some fear that
Mr. Bruncker is got into the King's favour, and will be cherished there;
which will breed ill will between the King and Duke of York, he lodging at
this time in White Hall since he was put away from the Duke of York: and
he is great with Bab. May, my Lady Castlemayne, and that wicked crew. But
I find this denied by Sir G. Carteret, who tells me that he is sure he
hath no kindness from the King; that the King at first, indeed, did
endeavour to persuade the Duke of York from putting him away; but when,
besides this business of his ill words concerning his Majesty in the
business of the Chancellor, he told him that he hath had, a long time, a
mind to put him away for his ill offices, done between him and his wife,
the King held his peace, and said no more, but wished him to do what he
pleased with him; which was very noble. I met with Fenn; and he tells me,
as I do hear from some others, that the business of the Chancellor's had
proceeded from something of a mistake, for the Duke of York did first tell
the King that the Chancellor had a desire to be eased of his great
trouble; and that the King, when the Chancellor come to him, did wonder to
hear him deny it, and the Duke of York was forced to deny to the King that
ever he did tell him so in those terms: but the King did answer that he
was sure that he did say some such thing to him; but, however, since it
had gone so far, did desire him to be contented with it, as a thing very
convenient for him as well as for himself (the King), and so matters
proceeded, as we find. Now it is likely the Chancellor might, some time or
other, in a compliment or vanity, say to the Duke of York, that he was
weary of this burden, and I know not what; and this comes of it. Some
people, and myself among them, are of good hope from this change that
things are reforming; but there are others that do think but that it is a
hit of chance, as all other our greatest matters are, and that there is no
general plot or contrivance in any number of people what to do next,
though, I believe, Sir W. Coventry may in himself have further designs;
and so that, though other changes may come, yet they shall be accidental
and laid upon [not] good principles of doing good. Mr. May shewed me the
King's new buildings, in order to their having of some old sails for the
closing of the windows this winter. I dined with Sir G. Carteret, with
whom dined Mr. Jack Ashburnham and Dr. Creeton, who I observe to be a most
good man and scholar. In discourse at dinner concerning the change of
men's humours and fashions touching meats, Mr. Ashburnham told us, that he
remembers since the only fruit in request, and eaten by the King and Queen
at table as the best fruit, was the Katharine payre, though they knew at
the time other fruits of France and our own country. After dinner comes
in Mr. Townsend; and there I was witness of a horrid rateing, which Mr.
Ashburnham, as one of the Grooms of the King's Bedchamber, did give him
for want of linen for the King's person; which he swore was not to be
endured, and that the King would not endure it, and that the King his
father, would have hanged his Wardrobe-man should he have been served so
the King having at this day no handkerchers, and but three bands to his
neck, he swore. Mr. Townsend answered want of money, and the owing of the
linen-draper L5000; and that he hath of late got many rich things
made--beds, and sheets, and saddles, and all without money, and he can go
no further but still this old man, indeed, like an old loving servant, did
cry out for the King's person to be neglected. But, when he was gone,
Townsend told me that it is the grooms taking away the King's linen at the
quarter's end, as their fees, which makes this great want: for, whether
the King can get it or no, they will run away at the quarter's end with
what he hath had, let the King get more as he can. All the company gone,
Sir G. Carteret and I to talk: and it is pretty to observe how already he
says that he did always look upon the Chancellor indeed as his friend,
though he never did do him any service at all, nor ever got any thing by
him, nor was he a man apt, and that, I think, is true, to do any man any
kindness of his own nature; though I do know that he was believed by all
the world to be the greatest support of Sir G. Carteret with the King of
any man in England: but so little is now made of it! He observes that my
Lord Sandwich will lose a great friend in him; and I think so too, my Lord
Hinchingbroke being about a match calculated purely out of respect to my
Lord Chancellor's family. By and by Sir G. Carteret, and Townsend, and I,
to consider of an answer to the Commissioners of the Treasury about my
Lord Sandwich's profits in the Wardrobe; which seem, as we make them, to
be very small, not L1000 a-year; but only the difference in measure at
which he buys and delivers out to the King, and then 6d. in the pound from
the tradesmen for what money he receives for him; but this, it is
believed, these Commissioners will endeavour to take away. From him I
went to see a great match at tennis, between Prince Rupert and one Captain
Cooke, against Bab. May and the elder Chichly; where the King was, and
Court; and it seems are the best players at tennis in the nation. But
this puts me in mind of what I observed in the morning, that the King,
playing at tennis, had a steele-yard carried to him, and I was told it was
to weigh him after he had done playing; and at noon Mr. Ashburnham told me
that it is only the King's curiosity, which he usually hath of weighing
himself before and after his play, to see how much he loses in weight by
playing: and this day he lost 4 lbs. Thence home and took my wife out to
Mile End Green, and there I drank, and so home, having a very fine
evening. Then home, and I to Sir W. Batten and [Sir] W. Pen, and there
discoursed of Sir W. Coventry's leaving the Duke of York, and Mr. Wren's
succeeding him. They told me both seriously, that they had long cut me
out for Secretary to the Duke of York, if ever [Sir] W. Coventry left him;
which, agreeing with what I have heard from other hands heretofore, do
make me not only think that something of that kind hath been thought on,
but do comfort me to see that the world hath such an esteem of my
qualities as to think me fit for any such thing. Though I am glad, with
all my heart, that I am not so; for it would never please me to be forced
to the attendance that that would require, and leave my wife and family to
themselves, as I must do in such a case; thinking myself now in the best
place that ever man was in to please his own mind in, and, therefore, I
will take care to preserve it. So to bed, my cold remaining though not so
much upon me. This day Nell, an old tall maid, come to live with us, a
cook maid recommended by Mr. Batelier.

3rd. All the morning, business at the office, dined at home, then in the
afternoon set my wife down at the Exchange, and I to St. James's, and
there attended the Duke of York about the list of ships that we propose to
sell: and here there attended Mr. Wren the first time, who hath not yet, I
think, received the Duke of York's seal and papers. At our coming hither,
we found the Duke and Duchesse all alone at dinner, methought melancholy;
or else I thought so, from the late occasion of the Chancellor's fall,
who, they say, however, takes it very contentedly. Thence I to White Hall
a little, and so took up my wife at the 'Change, and so home, and at the
office late, and so home to supper and to bed, our boy ill.

4th. By coach to White Hall to the Council-chamber; and there met with
Sir W. Coventry going in, who took me aside, and told me that he was just
come from delivering up his seal and papers to Mr. Wren; and told me he
must now take his leave of me as a naval man, but that he shall always
bear respect to his friends there, and particularly to myself, with great
kindness; which I returned to him with thanks, and so, with much kindness
parted: and he into, the Council. I met with Sir Samuel Morland, who
chewed me two orders upon the Exchequer, one of L600, and another of L400,
for money assigned to him, which he would have me lend him money upon, and
he would allow 12 per cent. I would not meddle with them, though they are
very good; and would, had I not so much money out already on public
credit. But I see by this his condition all trade will be bad. I staid
and heard Alderman Barker's case of his being abused by the Council of
Ireland, touching his lands there: all I observed there is the silliness
of the King, playing with his dog all the while, and not minding the
business,

[Lord Rochester wrote

"His very dog at council board
Sits grave and wise as any lord."

Poems, 1697; p. 150.--The king's dogs were constantly stolen from
him, and he advertised for their return. Some of these amusing
advertisements are printed in "Notes and Queries" (seventh series,
vol. vii., p. 26).]

and what he said was mighty weak; but my Lord Keeper I observe to be a
mighty able man. The business broke off without any end to it, and so I
home, and thence with my wife and W. Hewer to Bartholomew fayre, and there
Polichinelli, where we saw Mrs. Clerke and all her crew; and so to a
private house, and sent for a side of pig, and eat it at an acquaintance
of W. Hewer's, where there was some learned physic and chymical books, and
among others, a natural "Herball" very fine. Here we staid not, but to the
Duke of York's play house, and there saw "Mustapha," which, the more I
see, the more I like; and is a most admirable poem, and bravely acted;
only both Betterton and Harris could not contain from laughing in the
midst of a most serious part from the ridiculous mistake of one of the men
upon the stage; which I did not like. Thence home, where Batelier and his
sister Mary come to us and sat and talked, and so, they gone, we to supper
and to bed.

5th. Up, and all the morning at the office, where we sat till noon, and
then I home to dinner, where Mary Batelier and her brother dined with us,
who grows troublesome in his talking so much of his going to Marseilles,
and what commissions he hath to execute as a factor, and a deal of do of
which I am weary. After dinner, with Sir W. Pen, my wife, and Mary
Batelier to the Duke of York's house, and there saw "Heraclius," which is
a good play; but they did so spoil it with their laughing, and being all
of them out, and with the noise they made within the theatre, that I was
ashamed of it, and resolve not to come thither again a good while,
believing that this negligence, which I never observed before, proceeds
only from their want of company in the pit, that they have no care how
they act. My wife was ill, and so I was forced to go out of the house
with her to Lincoln's Inn walks, and there in a corner she did her
business, and was by and by well, and so into the house again, but sick of
their ill acting. So home and to the office, where busy late, then home
to supper and to bed. This morning was told by Sir W. Batten, that he do
hear from Mr. Grey, who hath good intelligence, that our Queen is to go
into a nunnery, there to spend her days; and that my Lady Castlemayne is
going into France, and is to have a pension of L4000 a-year. This latter
I do more believe than the other, it being very wise in her to do it, and
save all she hath, besides easing the King and kingdom of a burden and
reproach.

6th. Up, and to Westminster to the Exchequer, and then into the Hall, and
there bought "Guillim's Heraldry" for my wife, and so to the Swan, and
thither come Doll Lane, and je did toucher her, and drank, and so away, I
took coach and home, where I find my wife gone to Walthamstow by
invitation with Sir W. Batten, and so I followed, taking up Mrs. Turner,
and she and I much discourse all the way touching the baseness of Sir W.
Pen and sluttishness of his family, and how the world do suspect that his
son Lowther, who is sick of a sore mouth, has got the pox. So we come to
Sir W. Batten's, where Sir W. Pen and his Lady, and we and Mrs. Shipman,
and here we walked and had an indifferent good dinner, the victuals very
good and cleanly dressed and good linen, but no fine meat at all. After
dinner we went up and down the house, and I do like it very well, being
furnished with a great deal of very good goods. And here we staid, I
tired with the company, till almost evening, and then took leave, Turner
and I together again, and my wife with [Sir] W. Pen. At Aldgate I took my
wife into our coach, and so to Bartholomew fair, and there, it being very
dirty, and now night, we saw a poor fellow, whose legs were tied behind
his back, dance upon his hands with his arse above his head, and also
dance upon his crutches, without any legs upon the ground to help him,
which he did with that pain that I was sorry to see it, and did pity him
and give him money after he had done. Then we to see a piece of
clocke-work made by an Englishman--indeed, very good, wherein all the
several states of man's age, to 100 years old, is shewn very pretty and
solemne; and several other things more cheerful, and so we ended, and took
a link, the women resolving to be dirty, and walked up and down to get a
coach; and my wife, being a little before me, had been like to be taken up
by one, whom we saw to be Sam Hartlib. My wife had her wizard on: yet we
cannot say that he meant any hurt; for it was as she was just by a
coach-side, which he had, or had a mind to take up; and he asked her,
"Madam, do you go in this coach?" but, soon as he saw a man come to her (I
know not whether he knew me) he departed away apace. By and by did get a
coach, and so away home, and there to supper, and to bed.

7th. Up, and to the office, where all the morning. At noon home to
dinner, where Goodgroome was teaching my wife, and dined with us, and I
did tell him of my intention to learn to trill, which he will not promise
I shall obtain, but he will do what can be done, and I am resolved to
learn. All the afternoon at the office, and towards night out by coach
with my wife, she to the 'Change, and I to see the price of a copper
cisterne for the table, which is very pretty, and they demand L6 or L7 for
one; but I will have one. Then called my wife at the 'Change, and bought
a nightgown for my wife: cost but 24s., and so out to Mile End to drink,
and so home to the office to end my letters, and so home to supper and to
bed.

8th (Lord's day). Up, and walked to St. James's; but there I find Sir W.
Coventry gone from his chamber, and Mr. Wren not yet come thither. But I
up to the Duke of York, and there, after being ready, my Lord Bruncker and
I had an audience, and thence with my Lord Bruncker to White Hall, and he
told me, in discourse, how that, though it is true that Sir W. Coventry
did long since propose to the Duke of York the leaving his service, as
being unable to fulfill it, as he should do, now he hath so much public
business, and that the Duke of York did bid him to say nothing of it, but
that he would take time to please himself in another to come in his place;
yet the Duke's doing it at this time, declaring that he hath found out
another, and this one of the Chancellor's servants, he cannot but think
was done with some displeasure, and that it could not well be otherwise,
that the Duke of York should keep one in that place, that had so eminently
opposed him in the defence of his father-in-law, nor could the Duchesse
ever endure the sight of him, to be sure. But he thinks that the Duke of
York and he are parted upon clear terms of friendship. He tells me he do
believe that my Lady Castlemayne is compounding with the King for a
pension, and to leave the Court; but that her demands are mighty high: but
he believes the King is resolved, and so do every body else I speak with,
to do all possible to please the Parliament; and he do declare that he
will deliver every body up to them to give an account of their actions:
and that last Friday, it seems, there was an Act of Council passed, to put
out all Papists in office, and to keep out any from coming in. I went to
the King's Chapel to the closet, and there I hear Cresset sing a tenor
part along with the Church musick very handsomely, but so loud that people
did laugh at him, as a thing done for ostentation. Here I met Sir G.
Downing, who would speak with me, and first to inquire what I paid for my
kid's leather gloves I had on my hand, and shewed me others on his, as
handsome, as good in all points, cost him but 12d. a pair, and mine me 2s.
He told me he had been seven years finding out a man that could dress
English sheepskin as it should be--and, indeed, it is now as good, in all
respects, as kid, and he says will save L100,000 a-year, that goes out to
France for kid's skins. Thus he labours very worthily to advance our own
trade, but do it with mighty vanity and talking. But then he told me of
our base condition, in the treaty with Holland and France, about our
prisoners, that whereas before we did clear one another's prisoners, man
for man, and we upon the publication of the peace did release all our's,
300 at Leith, and others in other places for nothing, the Dutch do keep
theirs, and will not discharge them with[out] paying their debts according
to the Treaty. That his instruments in Holland, writing to our
Embassadors about this to Bredagh, they answer them that they do not know
of any thing that they have done therein, but left it just as it was
before. To which, when they answer, that by the treaty their Lordships
had [not] bound our countrymen to pay their debts in prison, they answer
they cannot help it, and we must get them off as cheap as we can. On this
score, they demand L1100 for Sir G. Ascue, and L5000 for the one province
of Zealand, for the prisoners that we have therein. He says that this is
a piece of shame that never any nation committed, and that our very Lords
here of the Council, when he related this matter to them, did not remember
that they had agreed to this article; and swears that all their articles
are alike, as the giving away Polleroon, and Surinam, and Nova Scotia,
which hath a river 300 miles up the country, with copper mines more than
Swedeland, and Newcastle coals, the only place in America that hath coals
that we know of; and that Cromwell did value those places, and would for
ever have made much of them; but we have given them away for nothing,
besides a debt to the King of Denmarke. But, which is most of all, they
have discharged those very particular demands of merchants of the Guinny
Company and others, which he, when he was there, had adjusted with the
Dutch, and come to an agreement in writing, and they undertaken to
satisfy, and that this was done in black and white under their hands; and
yet we have forgiven all these, and not so much as sent to Sir G. Downing
to know what he had done, or to confer with him about any one point of the
treaty, but signed to what they would have, and we here signed to whatever
in grosse was brought over by Mr. Coventry. And [Sir G. Downing] tells
me, just in these words, "My Lord Chancellor had a mind to keep himself
from being questioned by clapping up a peace upon any terms." When I
answered that there was other privy-councillors to be advised with besides
him, and that, therefore, this whole peace could not be laid to his
charge, he answered that nobody durst say any thing at the council-table
but himself, and that the King was as much afeard of saying any thing
there as the meanest privy-councillor; and says more, that at this day the
King, in familiar talk, do call the Chancellor "the insolent man," and
says that he would not let him speak himself in Council: which is very
high, and do shew that the Chancellor is like to be in a bad state, unless
he can defend himself better than people think. And yet Creed tells me
that he do hear that my Lord Cornbury do say that his father do long for
the coming of the Parliament, in order to his own vindication, more than
any one of his enemies. And here it comes into my head to set down what
Mr. Rawlinson, whom I met in Fenchurch Street on Friday last, looking over
his ruines there, told me, that he was told by one of my Lord Chancellor's
gentlemen lately (--------byname), that a grant coming to him to be
sealed, wherein the King hath given her [Lady Castlemaine], or somebody by
her means, a place which he did not like well of, he did stop the grant;
saying, that he thought this woman would sell everything shortly: which
she hearing of, she sent to let him know that she had disposed of this
place, and did not doubt, in a little time, to dispose of his. This
Rawlinson do tell me my Lord Chancellor's own gentleman did tell him
himself. Thence, meeting Creed, I with him to the Parke, there to walk a
little, and to the Queen's Chapel and there hear their musique, which I
liked in itself pretty well as to the composition, but their voices are
very harsh and rough that I thought it was some instruments they had that
made them sound so. So to White Hall, and saw the King and Queen at
dinner; and observed (which I never did before), the formality, but it is
but a formality, of putting a bit of bread wiped upon each dish into the
mouth of every man that brings a dish; but it should be in the sauce.
Here were some Russes come to see the King at dinner: among others, the
interpreter, a comely Englishman, in the Envoy's own clothes; which the
Envoy, it seems, in vanity did send to show his fine clothes upon this
man's back, which is one, it seems, of a comelier presence than himself:
and yet it is said that none of their clothes are their own, but taken out
of the King's own Wardrobe; and which they dare not bring back dirty or
spotted, but clean, or are in danger of being beaten, as they say:
insomuch that, Sir Charles Cotterell says, when they are to have an
audience they never venture to put on their clothes till he appears to
come to fetch them; and, as soon as ever they come home, put them off
again. I to Sir G. Carteret's to dinner; where Mr. Cofferer Ashburnham;
who told a good story of a prisoner's being condemned at Salisbury for a
small matter. While he was on the bench with his father-in-law, judge
Richardson, and while they were considering to transport him to save his
life, the fellow flung a great stone at the judge, that missed him, but
broke through the wainscoat. Upon this, he had his hand cut off, and was
hanged presently! Here was a gentleman, one Sheres, one come lately from
my Lord Sandwich, with an express; but, Lord! I was almost ashamed to see
him, lest he should know that I have not yet wrote one letter to my Lord
since his going. I had no discourse with him, but after dinner Sir G.
Carteret and I to talk about some business of his, and so I to Mrs.
Martin, where was Mrs. Burroughs, and also fine Mrs. Noble, my partner in
the christening of Martin's child, did come to see it, and there we sat
and talked an hour, and then all broke up and I by coach home, and there
find Mr. Pelling and Howe, and we to sing and good musique till late, and
then to supper, and Howe lay at my house, and so after supper to bed with
much content, only my mind a little troubled at my late breach of vowes,
which however I will pay my forfeits, though the badness of my eyes,
making me unfit to read or write long, is my excuse, and do put me upon
other pleasures and employment which I should refrain from in observation
of my vowes.

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