Part 32
20th January, 1653-54. Come to see my old acquaintance and the most incomparable player on the Irish harp, Mr. Clark,[48] after his travels. He was an excellent musician, a discreet gentleman, born in Devonshire (as I remember). Such music before or since did I never hear, that instrument being neglected for its extraordinary difficulty; but, in my judgment, far superior to the lute itself, or whatever speaks with strings.
[Footnote 48: See under the year 1688, November.]
25th January, 1654. Died my son, J. Stansfield, of convulsion fits; buried at Deptford on the east corner of the church, near his mother's great-grandfather, and other relatives.
8th February, 1654. Ash Wednesday. In contradiction to all custom and decency, the usurper, Cromwell, feasted at the Lord Mayor's, riding in triumph through the city.
14th February, 1654. I saw a tame lion play familiarly with a lamb; he was a huge beast, and I thrust my hand into his mouth and found his tongue rough like a cat's; a sheep also with six legs, which made use of five of them to walk; a goose that had four legs, two crops, and as many vents.
29th March, 1654. That excellent man, Mr. Owen, preached in my library on Matt. xxviii. 6, a resurrection sermon, and after it we all received the Holy Communion.
6th April, 1654. Came my Lord Herbert, Sir Kenelm Digby, Mr. Denham, and other friends to see me.
15th April, 1654. I went to London to hear the famous Jeremy Taylor (since Bishop of Down and Connor) at St. Gregory's (near St. Paul's) on Matt. vi, 48, concerning evangelical perfection.
5th May, 1654. I bound my lackey, Thomas Headly, apprentice to a carpenter, giving with him five pounds and new clothing; he thrived very well, and became rich.
8th May, 1654. I went to Hackney, to see Lady Brook's garden, which was one of the neatest and most celebrated in England, the house well furnished, but a despicable building. Returning, visited one Mr. Tomb's garden; it has large and noble walks, some modern statues, a vineyard, planted in strawberry borders, staked at ten feet distances, the banqueting-house of cedar, where the couch and seats were carved _à l'antique_; some good pictures in the house, especially one of Vandyke's, being a man in his shirt; also some of Stenwyck. I also called at Mr. Ducie's, who has indeed a rare collection of the best masters, and one of the largest stories of H. Holbein. I also saw Sir Thomas Fowler's aviary, which is a poor business.
[Illustration: _OLIVER CROMWELL DICTATING TO JOHN MILTON_
_The letter to the Duke of Savoy to stop the persecution of the Protestants of Piedmont, 1655. Photogravure from an engraving by Sartain after Newenham_]
10th May, 1654. My Lady Gerrard treated us at Mulberry Garden, now the only place of refreshment about the town for persons of the best quality to be exceedingly cheated at; Cromwell and his partisans having shut up and seized on Spring Garden, which, till now, had been the usual rendezvous for the ladies and gallants at this season.
11th May, 1654. I now observed how the women began to paint themselves, formerly a most ignominious thing, and used only by prostitutes.
14th May, 1654. There being no such thing as church anniversaries in the parochial assemblies, I was forced to provide at home for Whit Sunday.
15th May, 1654. Came Sir Robert Stapylton, the translator of "Juvenal," to visit me.
8th June, 1654. My wife and I set out in a coach and four horses, in our way to visit relations of hers in Wiltshire, and other parts, where we resolved to spend some months. We dined at Windsor, saw the Castle and Chapel of St. George, where they have laid our blessed Martyr, King Charles, in the VAULT JUST BEFORE THE ALTAR. The church and workmanship in stone is admirable. The Castle itself is large in circumference; but the rooms melancholy, and of ancient magnificence. The keep, or mount, hath, besides its incomparable prospect, a very profound well; and the terrace toward Eton, with the park, meandering Thames, and sweet meadows, yield one of the most delightful prospects. That night, we lay at Reading. Saw my Lord Craven's house at Causam [Caversham], now in ruins, his goodly woods felling by the Rebels.
9th June, 1654. Dined at Marlborough, which having been lately fired, was now new built. At one end of this town, we saw my Lord Seymour's house, but nothing observable save the Mount, to which we ascended by windings for near half a mile. It seems to have been cast up by hand. We passed by Colonel Popham's, a noble seat, park, and river. Thence, to Newbury, a considerable town, and Donnington, famous for its battle, siege, and castle, this last had been in the possession of old Geoffrey Chaucer. Then to Aldermaston, a house of Sir Humphrey Forster's, built _à la moderne_. Also, that exceedingly beautiful seat of my Lord Pembroke, on the ascent of hill, flanked with wood, and regarding the river, and so, at night, to Cadenham, the mansion of Edward Hungerford, Esq., uncle to my wife, where we made some stay. The rest of the week we did nothing but feast and make good cheer, to welcome my wife.
27th June, 1654. We all went to see Bath, where I bathed in the cross bath. Among the rest of the idle diversions of the town, one musician was famous for acting a changeling, which indeed he personated strangely.
The _facciáta_ of this cathedral is remarkable for its historical carving. The King's Bath is esteemed the fairest in Europe. The town is entirely built of stone, but the streets narrow, uneven and unpleasant. Here, we trifled and bathed, and intervisited with the company who frequent the place for health, till the 30th, and then went to Bristol, a city emulating London, not for its large extent, but manner of building, shops, bridge, traffic, exchange, market-place, etc. The governor showed us the castle, of no great concernment. The city wholly mercantile, as standing near the famous Severn, commodiously for Ireland, and the Western world. Here I first saw the manner of refining sugar and casting it into loaves, where we had a collection of eggs fried in the sugar furnace, together with excellent Spanish wine. But, what appeared most stupendous to me, was the rock of St. Vincent, a little distance from the town, the precipice whereof is equal to anything of that nature I have seen in the most confragose cataracts of the Alps, the river gliding between them at an extraordinary depth. Here, we went searching for diamonds, and to the Hot Wells, at its foot. There is also on the side of this horrid Alp a very romantic seat: and so we returned to Bath in the evening, and July 1st to Cadenham.
4th July, 1654. On a letter from my wife's uncle, Mr. Pretyman, I waited back on her to London, passing by Hungerford, a town famous for its trouts, and the next day arrived at Deptford, which was 60 miles, in the extremity of heat.
[Sidenote: OXFORD]
6th July, 1654. I went early to London, and the following day met my wife and company at Oxford, the eve of the Act.
8th July, 1654. Was spent in hearing several exercises in the schools; and, after dinner, the Proctor opened the Act at St. Mary's (according to custom), and the Prevaricators, their drollery. Then, the Doctors disputed. We supped at Wadham College.
9th July, 1654. Dr. French preached at St. Mary's, on Matt. xii. 42, advising the students the search after true wisdom, not to be had in the books of philosophers, but in the Scriptures alone. In the afternoon, the famous Independent, Dr. Owen, perstringing Episcopacy. He was now Cromwell's Vice-Chancellor. We dined with Dr. Ward, Mathematical Professor (since Bishop of Sarum), and at night supped in Baliol College Hall, where I had once been student and fellow-commoner, and where they made me extraordinarily welcome.
10th July, 1654. On Monday, I went again to the schools, to hear the several faculties, and in the afternoon tarried out the whole Act in St. Mary's, the long speeches of the Proctors, the Vice-Chancellor, the several Professors, creation of Doctors, by the cap, ring, kiss, etc., those ancient ceremonies and institution being as yet not wholly abolished. Dr. Kendal, now Inceptor among others, performing his Act incomparably well, concluded it with an excellent oration, abating his Presbyterian animosities, which he withheld, not even against that learned and pious divine, Dr. Hammond. The Act was closed with the speech of the Vice-Chancellor, there being but four in theology, and three in medicine, which was thought a considerable matter, the times considered. I dined at one Monsieur Fiat's, a student of Exeter College, and supped at a magnificent entertainment of Wadham Hall, invited by my dear and excellent friend, Dr. Wilkins, then Warden (after, Bishop of Chester).
11th July, 1654. Was the Latin sermon, which I could not be at, though invited, being taken up at All Souls, where we had music, voices, and theorbos, performed by some ingenious scholars. After dinner, I visited that miracle of a youth, Mr. Christopher Wren, nephew to the Bishop of Ely. Then Mr. Barlow (since Bishop of Lincoln), bibliothecarius of the Bodleian Library, my most learned friend. He showed us the rarities of that most famous place, manuscripts, medals, and other curiosities. Among the MSS. an old English Bible, wherein the Eunuch mentioned to be baptized by Philip, is called the Gelding: "and Philip and the Gelding went down into the water," etc. The original Acts of the Council of Basil 900 years since, with the _bulla_, or leaden affix, which has a silken cord passing through every parchment; a MS. of Venerable Bede of 800 years antiquity; the old Ritual _secundum usum Sarum_ exceeding voluminous; then, among the nicer curiosities, the "Proverbs of Solomon," written in French by a lady, every chapter of a several character, or hand, the most exquisite imaginable; an hieroglyphical table, or carta, folded up like a map, I suppose it painted on asses' hide, extremely rare; but, what is most illustrious, there were no less than 1,000 MSS. in nineteen languages, especially Oriental, furnishing that new part of the library built by Archbishop Laud, from a design of Sir Kenelm Digby and the Earl of Pembroke. In the closet of the tower, they show some Indian weapons, urns, lamps, etc., but the rarest is the whole Alcoran, written on one large sheet of calico, made up in a priest's vesture, or cope, after the Turkish and Arabic character, so exquisitely written, as no printed letter comes near it; also, a roll of magical charms, divers talismans, and some medals.
Then, I led my wife into the Convocation House, finely wainscoted; the Divinity School, and Gothic carved roof; the Physic, or Anatomy School, adorned with some rarities of natural things; but nothing extraordinary save the skin of a jackal, a rarely-colored jackatoo, or prodigious large parrot, two humming birds, not much bigger than our bumblebee, which indeed I had not seen before, that I remember.
12th July, 1654. We went to St. John's, saw the library and the two skeletons, which are finely cleansed and put together; observable is here also the store of mathematical instruments, chiefly given by the late Archbishop Laud, who built here a handsome quadrangle.
Thence we went to New College, where the chapel was in its ancient garb, notwithstanding the scrupulosity of the times. Thence, to Christ's Church, in whose library was shown us an Office of Henry VIII., the writing, miniatures, and gilding whereof is equal, if not surpassing, any curiosity I had seen of that kind; it was given by their founder, Cardinal Wolsey. The glass windows of the cathedral (famous in my time) I found much abused. The ample hall and column, that spreads its capital to sustain the roof as one goes up the stairs, is very remarkable.
Next we walked to Magdalen College, where we saw the library and chapel, which was likewise in pontifical order, the altar only I think turned tablewise, and there was still the double organ, which abominations (as now esteemed) were almost universally demolished; Mr. Gibbon, that famous musician, giving us a taste of his skill and talents on that instrument.
Hence, to the Physic Garden, where the sensitive plant was shown us for a great wonder. There grew canes, olive trees, rhubarb, but no extraordinary curiosities, besides very good fruit, which, when the ladies had tasted, we returned in our coach to our lodgings.
13th July, 1654. We all dined at that most obliging and universally-curious Dr. Wilkins's, at Wadham College. He was the first who showed me the transparent apiaries, which he had built like castles and palaces, and so ordered them one upon another, as to take the honey without destroying the bees. These were adorned with a variety of dials, little statues, vanes, etc.; and, he was so abundantly civil, finding me pleased with them, to present me with one of the hives which he had empty, and which I afterward had in my garden at Sayes Court, where it continued many years, and which his Majesty came on purpose to see and contemplate with much satisfaction. He had also contrived a hollow statue, which gave a voice and uttered words by a long, concealed pipe that went to its mouth,[49] while one speaks through it at a good distance. He had, above in his lodgings and gallery, variety of shadows, dials, perspectives, and many other artificial, mathematical, and magical curiosities, a waywiser, a thermometer, a monstrous magnet, conic, and other sections, a balance on a demi-circle; most of them of his own, and that prodigious young scholar Mr. Christopher Wren, who presented me with a piece of white marble, which he had stained with a lively red, very deep, as beautiful as if it had been natural.
[Footnote 49: Such were the speaking figures long ago exhibited in Spring Gardens, and in Leicester Fields.]
Thus satisfied with the civilities of Oxford, we left it, dining at Farringdon, a town which had been newly fired during the wars; and, passing near the seat of Sir Walter Pye, we came to Cadenham.
16th July, 1654. We went to another uncle and relative of my wife's, Sir John Glanville, a famous lawyer, formerly Speaker of the House of Commons; his seat is at Broad Hinton, where he now lived but in the gate-house, his very fair dwelling house having been burnt by his own hands, to prevent the rebels making a garrison of it. Here, my cousin William Glanville's eldest son showed me such a lock for a door, that for its filing, and rare contrivances was a masterpiece, yet made by a country blacksmith. But, we have seen watches made by another with as much curiosity as the best of that profession can brag of; and, not many years after, there was nothing more frequent than all sorts of ironwork more exquisitely wrought and polished than in any part of Europe, so as a door lock of a tolerable price was esteemed a curiosity even among foreign princes.
Went back to Cadenham, and, on the 19th, to Sir Edward Baynton's at Spie Park, a place capable of being made a noble seat; but the humorous old knight has built a long single house of two low stories on the precipice of an incomparable prospect, and landing on a bowling-green in the park. The house is like a long barn, and has not a window on the prospect side. After dinner, they went to bowls, and, in the meantime, our coachmen were made so exceedingly drunk, that in returning home we escaped great dangers. This, it seems, was by order of the knight, that all gentlemen's servants be so treated; but the custom is barbarous, and much unbecoming a knight still less a Christian.
[Sidenote: SALISBURY]
20th July, 1654. We proceeded to Salisbury; the cathedral I take to be the most complete piece of Gothic work in Europe, taken in all its uniformity. The pillars, reputed to be cast, are of stone manifestly cut out of the quarry; most observable are those in the chapter house. There are some remarkable monuments, particularly the ancient Bishops, founders of the Church, Knights Templars, the Marquis of Hertford's, the cloisters of the palace and garden, and the great mural dial.
In the afternoon we went to Wilton, a fine house of the Earl of Pembroke, in which the most observable are the dining room in the modern-built part toward the garden, richly gilded and painted with story, by De Crete; also some other apartments, as that of hunting landscapes, by Pierce; some magnificent chimney-pieces, after the best French manner; a pair of artificial winding stairs of stone, and divers rare pictures. The garden, heretofore esteemed the noblest in England, is a large handsome plain, with a grotto and waterworks, which might be made much more pleasant, were the river that passes through cleansed and raised; for all is effected by a mere force. It has a flower garden, not inelegant. But, after all, that which renders the seat delightful is, its being so near the downs and noble plains about the country contiguous to it. The stables are well ordered and yield a graceful front, by reason of the walks of lime trees, with the court and fountain of the stables adorned with the Cæsars' heads.
We returned this evening by the plain, and fourteen-mile race, where out of my lord's hare warren we were entertained with a long course of a hare for near two miles in sight. Near this, is a _pergola_, or stand, built to view the sports; and so we came to Salisbury, and saw the most considerable parts of the city. The market place, with most of the streets, are watered by a quick current and pure stream running through the middle of them, but are negligently kept, when with a small charge they might be purged and rendered infinitely agreeable, and this made one of the sweetest towns, but now the common buildings are despicable, and the streets dirty.
22d July, 1654. We departed and dined at a farm of my Uncle Hungerford's, called Darnford Magna, situated in a valley under the plain, most sweetly watered, abounding in trouts caught by spear in the night, when they come attracted by a light set in the stern of a boat.
After dinner, continuing our return, we passed over the goodly plain, or rather sea of carpet, which I think for evenness, extent, verdure, and innumerable flocks, to be one of the most delightful prospects in nature, and reminded me of the pleasant lives of shepherds we read of in romances.
Now we arrived at Stonehenge, indeed a stupendous monument, appearing at a distance like a castle; how so many and huge pillars of stone should have been brought together, some erect, others transverse on the tops of them, in a circular area as rudely representing a cloister or heathen and more natural temple, is wonderful. The stone is so exceedingly hard, that all my strength with a hammer could not break a fragment; which hardness I impute to their so long exposure. To number them exactly is very difficult, they lie in such variety of postures and confusion, though they seemed not to exceed 100; we counted only 95. As to their being brought thither, there being no navigable river near, is by some admired; but for the stone, there seems to be the same kind about 20 miles distant, some of which appear above ground. About the same hills, are divers mounts raised, conceived to be ancient intrenchments, or places of burial, after bloody fights. We now went by Devizes, a reasonable large town, and came late to Cadenham.
27th July, 1654. To the hunting of a sorel deer, and had excellent chase for four or five hours, but the venison little worth.
29th July, 1654. I went to Langford to see my Cousin Stephens. I also saw Dryfield, the house heretofore of Sir John Pretyman, grandfather to my wife, and sold by her uncle; both the seat and house very honorable and well built, much after the modern fashion.
31st July, 1654. Taking leave of Cadenham, where we had been long and nobly entertained, we went a compass into Leicestershire, where dwelt another relation of my wife's; for I indeed made these excursions to show her the most considerable parts of her native country, who, from her childhood, had lived altogether in France, as well as for my own curiosity and information.
[Sidenote: GLOUCESTER]
About two miles before coming to Gloucester, we have a prospect from woody hills into a most goodly vale and country. Gloucester is a handsome city, considerable for the church and monuments. The minster is indeed a noble fabric. The whispering gallery is rare, being through a passage of twenty-five yards in a many-angled cloister, and was, I suppose, either to show the skill of the architect, or some invention of a cunning priest, who, standing unseen in a recess in the middle of the chapel, might hear whatever was spoken at either end. This is above the choir, in which lies buried King Stephen[50] under a monument of Irish oak, not ill carved considering the age. The new library is a noble though a private design. I was likewise pleased with the Severn gliding so sweetly by it. The Duke's house, the castle works, are now almost quite dismantled; nor yet without sad thoughts did I see the town, considering how fatal the siege had been a few years before to our good King.
[Footnote 50: King Stephen was buried at Faversham. The effigy Evelyn alluded to is that of Robert Curthose, Duke of Normandy.]
1st August, 1654. We set out toward Worcester, by a way thickly planted with cider fruit. We deviated to the Holy Wells, trickling out of a valley through a steep declivity toward the foot of the great Malvern Hills; they are said to heal many infirmities, as king's evil, leprosy, sore eyes, etc. Ascending a great height above them to the trench dividing England from South Wales, we had the prospect of all Herefordshire, Radnor, Brecknoch, Monmouth, Worcester, Gloucester, Shropshire, Warwick, Derbyshires, and many more. We could discern Tewkesbury, King's road, toward Bristol, etc.; so as I esteem it one of the goodliest vistas in England.
2d August, 1654. This evening we arrived at Worcester, the Judges of Assize and Sheriff just entering as we did. Viewing the town the next day, we found the Cathedral much ruined by the late wars, otherwise a noble structure. The town is neatly paved and very clean, the goodly river Severn running by it, and standing in a most fertile country.
3d August, 1654. We passed next through Warwick, and saw the castle, the dwelling house of the Lord Brook, and the furniture noble. It is built on an eminent rock which gives prospect into a most goodly green, a woody and plentifully watered country; the river running so delightfully under it, that it may pass for one of the most surprising seats one should meet with. The gardens are prettily disposed; but might be much improved. Here they showed us Sir Guy's great two-handed sword, staff, horse-arms, pot, and other relics of that famous knight-errant. Warwick is a fair old town, and hath one church full of ancient monuments.
Having viewed these, I went to visit my worthy friend, Sir H. Puckering, at the Abbey, and though a melancholy old seat, yet in a rich soil.