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!

ETEXT EDITOR’S BOOKMARKS, DIARY OF SAMUEL PEPYS, 1667 N.S., COMPLETE:

20s. in money, and what wine she needed, for the burying him A gainful trade, but yet make me great trouble Act of Council passed, to put out all Papists in office Advantage a man of the law hath over all other people And a deal of do of which I am weary Angling with a minikin, a gut-string varnished over Anthem anything but instrumentall musique with the voice Archbishop is a wencher, and known to be so As he called it, the King’s seventeenth whore abroad Baker’s house in Pudding Lane, where the late great fire begun Beginnings of discontents take so much root between us Being taken with a Psalmbook or Testament Better now than never Bill against importing Cattle from Ireland Bold to deliver what he thinks on every occasion Bring me a periwig, but it was full of nits But do it with mighty vanity and talking But my wife vexed, which vexed me Buying his place of my Lord Barkely Buying up of goods in case there should be war Cast stones with his horne crooke Certainly Annapolis must be defended,--where is Annapolis? Chief Court of judicature (House of Lords) Clap of the pox which he got about twelve years ago Come to us out of bed in his furred mittens and furred cap Commons, where there is nothing done but by passion, and faction Confidence, and vanity, and disparages everything Consider that this is all the pleasure I live for in the world Court full of great apprehensions of the French Court is in a way to ruin all for their pleasures Credit of this office hath received by this rogue’s occasion Dash the brains of it out before the King’s face Declared he will never have another public mistress again Desk fastened to one of the armes of his chayre Did take me up very prettily in one or two things that I said Dinner, an ill and little mean one, with foul cloth and dishes Disquiet all night, telling of the clock till it was daylight Do outdo the Lords infinitely (debates in the Commons) Dog, that would turn a sheep any way which Dutch fleets being in so many places Eat some of the best cheese-cakes that ever I eat in my life Enough existed to build a ship (Pieces of the true Cross) Enviously, said, I could not come honestly by them Erasmus “de scribendis epistolis” Every body leads, and nobody follows Father, who to supper and betimes to bed at his country hours Feared she hath from some [one] or other of a present Fell a-crying for joy, being all maudlin and kissing one another Fool’s play with which all publick things are done For I will not be inward with him that is open to another For I will be hanged before I seek to him, unless I see I need Found to be with child, do never stir out of their beds Give the King of France Nova Scotia, which he do not like Gold holds up its price still Good purpose of fitting ourselves for another war (A Peace) Had his hand cut off, and was hanged presently! Had the umbles of it for dinner Hates to have any body mention what he had done the day before Hath given her the pox, but I hope it is not so Have not any awe over them from the King’s displeasure (Commons) He was charged with making himself popular He is not a man fit to be told what one hears He will do no good, he being a man of an unsettled head He is a man of no worth in the world but compliment Heeling her on one side to make her draw little water History of this day’s growth, we cannot tell the truth House of Lords is the last appeal that a man can make How do the children? Hugged, it being cold now in the mornings.... Hunt up and down with its mouth if you touch the cheek I would not enquire into anything, but let her talk I am not a man able to go through trouble, as other men I having now seen a play every day this week I perceive no passion in a woman can be lasting long I did get her hand to me under my cloak I love the treason I hate the traitor I find her painted, which makes me loathe her (cosmetics) If the word Inquisition be but mentioned Ill-bred woman, would take exceptions at anything any body said Ill sign when we are once to come to study how to excuse Just set down to dinner, and I dined with them, as I intended King do resolve to declare the Duke of Monmouth legitimate King is at the command of any woman like a slave King the necessity of having, at least, a show of religion King is offended with the Duke of Richmond’s marrying King of France did think other princes fit for nothing King governed by his lust, and women, and rogues about him King’s service is undone, and those that trust him perish Kingdom will fall back again to a commonwealth Know yourself to be secure, in being necessary to the office Lady Castlemayne’s nose out of joynt Lady Castlemayne is compounding with the King for a pension Liberty of speech in the House Little content most people have in the peace Little worth of this world, to buy it with so much pain Looks to lie down about two months hence Make a man wonder at the good fortune of such a fool Mazer or drinking-bowl turned out of some kind of wood Mean, methinks, and is as if they had married like dog and bitch Mirrors which makes the room seem both bigger and lighter Mr. William Pen a Quaker again Mrs. Stewart’s sending the King his jewels again Much difficulty to get pews, I offering the sexton money Musique in the morning to call up our new-married people Must yet pay to the Poll Bill for this pension (unreceived) My wife will keep to one another and let the world go hang My intention to learn to trill My people do observe my minding my pleasure more than usual My wife this night troubled at my leaving her alone so much Necessary, and yet the peace is so bad in its terms Never laughed so in all my life. I laughed till my head ached Never was known to keep two mistresses in his life (Charles II.) Never, while he lives, truckle under any body or any faction Never to keep a country-house, but to keep a coach New medall, where, in little, there is Mrs. Steward’s face Night the Dutch burned our ships the King did sup with Castlemayne No man knowing what to do, whether to sell or buy Nobody knows which side will be uppermost Nobody being willing to trust us for anything Nor offer anything, but just what is drawn out of a man Not more than I expected, nor so much by a great deal as I ought Not thinking them safe men to receive such a gratuity Now above six months since (smoke from the cellars) Officers are four years behind-hand unpaid Only because she sees it is the fashion (She likes it) Outdo for neatness and plenty anything done by any of them Painful to keep money, as well as to get it Pit, where the bears are baited Poll Bill Pressing in it as if none of us had like care with him Prince’s being trepanned, which was in doing just as we passed Proud that she shall come to trill Receive the applications of people, and hath presents Reparation for what we had embezzled Run over their beads with one hand, and point and play and talk Said to die with the cleanest hands that ever any Lord Treasurer Saying, that for money he might be got to our side Says of wood, that it is an excrescence of the earth Seems she hath had long melancholy upon her Sermon ended, and the church broke up, and my amours ended also Sermon upon Original Sin, neither understood by himself Sermon without affectation or study Shame such a rogue should give me and all of us this trouble She has this silly vanity that she must play Sick of it and of him for it Silence; it being seldom any wrong to a man to say nothing Singing with many voices is not singing So every thing stands still for money Some ends of my own in what advice I do give her Sorry thing to be a poor King Spares not to blame another to defend himself Sparrowgrass Speaks rarely, which pleases me mightily Spends his time here most, playing at bowles Sport to me to see him so earnest on so little occasion Street ordered to be continued, forty feet broad, from Paul’s Supper and to bed without one word one to another Suspect the badness of the peace we shall make Swear they will not go to be killed and have no pay Take pins out of her pocket to prick me if I should touch her The pleasure of my not committing these things to my memory The world do not grow old at all The gates of the City shut, it being so late Their condition was a little below my present state Then home, and merry with my wife They are all mad; and thus the kingdom is governed! They want where to set their feet, to begin to do any thing Think never to see this woman--at least, to have her here more Though he knows, if he be not a fool, that I love him not Through my wife’s illness had a bad night of it, and she a worse To my joy, I met not with any that have sped better than myself Troubled to think what trouble a rogue may without cause give Uncertainty of all history Used to make coal fires, and wash my foul clothes Very great tax; but yet I do think it is so perplexed Voyage to Newcastle for coles We find the two young ladies come home, and their patches off Weary of it; but it will please the citizens Weigh him after he had done playing What way a man could devise to lose so much in so little time What I said would not hold water Whatever I do give to anybody else, I shall give her Where a piece of the Cross is Which he left him in the lurch Whip this child till the blood come, if it were my child! Who continues so ill as not to be troubled with business Whom, in mirth to us, he calls Antichrist Whose red nose makes me ashamed to be seen with him Wise man’s not being wise at all times Wise men do prepare to remove abroad what they have Wonders that she cannot be as good within as she is fair without Wretch, n., often used as an expression of endearment Yet let him remember the days of darkness Young fellow, with his hat cocked like a fool behind

JANUARY 1667-1668

January 1st. Up, and all the morning in my chamber making up some accounts against this beginning of the new year, and so about noon abroad with my wife, who was to dine with W. Hewer and Willet at Mrs. Pierces, but I had no mind to be with them, for I do clearly find that my wife is troubled at my friendship with her and Knepp, and so dined with my Lord Crew, with whom was Mr. Browne, Clerk of the House of Lords, and Mr. John Crew. Here was mighty good discourse, as there is always: and among other things my Lord Crew did turn to a place in the Life of Sir Philip Sidney, wrote by Sir Fulke Greville, which do foretell the present condition of this nation, in relation to the Dutch, to the very degree of a prophecy; and is so remarkable that I am resolved to buy one of them, it being, quite throughout, a good discourse. Here they did talk much of the present cheapness of corne, even to a miracle; so as their farmers can pay no rent, but do fling up their lands; and would pay in corne: but, which I did observe to my Lord, and he liked well of it, our gentry are grown so ignorant in every thing of good husbandry, that they know not how to bestow this corne: which, did they understand but a little trade, they would be able to joyne together, and know what markets there are abroad, and send it thither, and thereby ease their tenants and be able to pay themselves. They did talk much of the disgrace the Archbishop is fallen under with the King, and the rest of the Bishops also. Thence I after dinner to the Duke of York’s playhouse, and there saw “Sir Martin Mar-all;” which I have seen so often, and yet am mightily pleased with it, and think it mighty witty, and the fullest of proper matter for mirth that ever was writ; and I do clearly see that they do improve in their acting of it. Here a mighty company of citizens, ‘prentices, and others; and it makes me observe, that when I begun first to be able to bestow a play on myself, I do not remember that I saw so many by half of the ordinary ‘prentices and mean people in the pit at 2s. 6d. a-piece as now; I going for several years no higher than the 12d. and then the 18d. places, though, I strained hard to go in then when I did: so much the vanity and prodigality of the age is to be observed in this particular. Thence I to White Hall, and there walked up and down the house a while, and do hear nothing of anything done further in this business of the change of Privy-counsellors: only I hear that Sir G. Savile, one of the Parliament Committee of nine, for examining the Accounts, is by the King made a Lord, the Lord Halifax; which, I believe, will displease the Parliament. By and by I met with Mr. Brisband; and having it in my mind this Christmas to (do what I never can remember that I did) go to see the manner of the gaming at the Groome-Porter’s, I having in my coming from the playhouse stepped into the two Temple-halls, and there saw the dirty ‘prentices and idle people playing; wherein I was mistaken, in thinking to have seen gentlemen of quality playing there, as I think it was when I was a little child, that one of my father’s servants, John Bassum, I think, carried me in his arms thither. I did tell Brisband of it, and he did lead me thither, where, after staying an hour, they begun to play at about eight at night, where to see how differently one man took his losing from another, one cursing and swearing, and another only muttering and grumbling to himself, a third without any apparent discontent at all: to see how the dice will run good luck in one hand, for half an hour together, and another have no good luck at all: to see how easily here, where they play nothing but guinnys, a L100 is won or lost: to see two or three gentlemen come in there drunk, and putting their stock of gold together, one 22 pieces, the second 4, and the third 5 pieces; and these to play one with another, and forget how much each of them brought, but he that brought the 22 thinks that he brought no more than the rest: to see the different humours of gamesters to change their luck, when it is bad, how ceremonious they are as to call for new dice, to shift their places, to alter their manner of throwing, and that with great industry, as if there was anything in it: to see how some old gamesters, that have no money now to spend as formerly, do come and sit and look on, as among others, Sir Lewis Dives, who was here, and hath been a great gamester in his time: to hear their cursing and damning to no purpose, as one man being to throw a seven if he could, and, failing to do it after a great many throws, cried he would be damned if ever he flung seven more while he lived, his despair of throwing it being so great, while others did it as their luck served almost every throw: to see how persons of the best quality do here sit down, and play with people of any, though meaner; and to see how people in ordinary clothes shall come hither, and play away 100, or 2 or 300 guinnys, without any kind of difficulty: and lastly, to see the formality of the groome-porter, who is their judge of all disputes in play and all quarrels that may arise therein, and how his under-officers are there to observe true play at each table, and to give new dice, is a consideration I never could have thought had been in the world, had I not now seen it. And mighty glad I am that I did see it, and it may be will find another evening, before Christmas be over, to see it again, when I may stay later, for their heat of play begins not till about eleven or twelve o’clock; which did give me another pretty observation of a man, that did win mighty fast when I was there. I think he won L100 at single pieces in a little time. While all the rest envied him his good fortune, he cursed it, saying, “A pox on it, that it should come so early upon me, for this fortune two hours hence would be worth something to me, but then, God damn me, I shall have no such luck.” This kind of prophane, mad entertainment they give themselves. And so I, having enough for once, refusing to venture, though Brisband pressed me hard, and tempted me with saying that no man was ever known to lose the first time, the devil being too cunning to discourage a gamester; and he offered me also to lend me ten pieces to venture; but I did refuse, and so went away, and took coach and home about 9 or to at night, where not finding my wife come home, I took the same coach again, and leaving my watch behind me for fear of robbing, I did go back and to Mrs. Pierces, thinking they might not have broken up yet, but there I find my wife newly gone, and not going out of my coach spoke only to Mr. Pierce in his nightgown in the street, and so away back again home, and there to supper with my wife and to talk about their dancing and doings at Mrs. Pierces to-day, and so to bed.

2nd. Up, and with Sir J. Minnes by coach to White Hall, and there attended the King and the Duke of York in the Duke of York’s lodgings, with the rest of the Officers and many of the Commanders of the fleete, and some of our master shipwrights, to discourse the business of having the topmasts of ships made to lower abaft of the mainmast; a business I understand not, and so can give no good account; but I do see that by how much greater the Council, and the number of Counsellors is, the more confused the issue is of their councils; so that little was said to the purpose regularly, and but little use was made of it, they coming to a very broken conclusion upon it, to make trial in a ship or two. From this they fell to other talk about the fleete’s fighting this late war, and how the King’s ships have been shattered; though the King said that the world would not have it that about ten or twenty ships in any fight did do any service, and that this hath been told so to him himself, by ignorant people. The Prince, who was there, was mightily surprised at it, and seemed troubled: but the King told him that it was only discourse of the world. But Mr. Wren whispered me in the eare, and said that the Duke of Albemarle had put it into his Narrative for the House, that not above twenty-five ships fought in the engagement wherein he was, but that he was advised to leave it out; but this he did write from sea, I am sure, or words to that effect: and did displease many commanders, among others, Captain Batts, who the Duke of York said was a very stout man, all the world knew; and that another was brought into his ship that had been turned out of his place when he was a boatswain, not long before, for being a drunkard. This the Prince took notice of, and would have been angry, I think, but they let their discourse fall: but the Duke of York was earnest in it. And the Prince said to me, standing by me, “God damn me, if they will turn out every man that will be drunk, they must turn out all the commanders in the fleete. What is the matter if he be drunk, so when he comes to fight he do his work? At least, let him be punished for his drunkenness, and not put out of his command presently.” This he spoke, very much concerned for this idle fellow, one Greene. After this the King began to tell stories of the cowardice of the Spaniards in Flanders, when he was there, at the siege of Mardike and Dunkirke; which was very pretty, though he tells them but meanly. This being done I to Westminster Hall, and there staid a little: and then home, and by the way did find with difficulty the Life of Sir Philip Sidney (the