Book: Diary of Samuel Pepys, September/October 1662
S >>
Samuel Pepys >> Diary of Samuel Pepys, September/October 1662
[There has been much confusion as to the name and parentage of
Charles's mistress. Lucy Walter was the daughter of William Walter
of Roch Castle, co. Pembroke, and Mr. S. Steinman, in his "Althorp
Memoirs" (privately printed, 1869), sets out her pedigree, which is
a good one. Roch Castle was taken and burnt by the Parliamentary
forces in 1644, and Lucy was in London in 1648, where she made the
acquaintance of Colonel Algernon Sidney. She then fell into the
possession of his brother, Colonel Robert Sidney. In September of
this same year she was taken up by Charles, Prince of Wales.
Charles terminated his connection with her on October 30th, 1651,
and she died in 1658, as appears by a document (administration entry
in the Register of the Prerogative Court) met with by the late
Colonel Chester. William Erskine, who had served Charles as
cupbearer in his wanderings, and was appointed Master of the
Charterhouse in December, 1677, had the care of Lucy Walter, and
buried her in Paris. He declared that the king never had any
intention of marrying her, and she did not deserve it. Thomas Ross,
the tutor of her son, put the idea of this claim into his head, and
asked Dr. Cosin to certify to a marriage. In consequence of this he
was removed from his office, and Lord Crofts took his place
(Steinman's "Althorp Memoirs"). Lucy Walter took the name of Barlow
during her wanderings.]
How true this is, God knows; but I believe the Duke of York will not be
fooled in this of three crowns. Thence to White Hall, and walked long in
the galleries till (as they are commanded to all strange persons), one
come to tell us, we not being known, and being observed to walk there four
or five hours (which was not true, unless they count my walking there in
the morning), he was commanded to ask who we were; which being told, he
excused his question, and was satisfied. These things speak great fear
and jealousys. Here we staid some time, thinking to stay out the play
before the King to-night, but it being "The Villaine," and my wife not
being there, I had no mind. So walk to the Exchange, and there took many
turns with him; among other things, observing one very pretty Exchange
lass, with her face full of black patches, which was a strange sight. So
bid him good-night and away by coach to Mr. Moore, with whom I staid an
hour, and found him pretty well and intends to go abroad tomorrow, and so
it raining hard by coach home, and having visited both Sir Williams, who
are both sick, but like to be well again, I to my office, and there did
some business, and so home and to bed. At Sir W. Batten's I met with Mr.
Mills, who tells me that he could get nothing out of the maid hard by
(that did poyson herself) before she died, but that she did it because she
did not like herself, nor had not liked herself, nor anything she did a
great while. It seems she was well-favoured enough, but crooked, and this
was all she could be got to say, which is very strange.
28th. At the office sitting all the morning, and then home to dinner with
my wife, and after dinner she and I passing an hour or two in ridiculous
talk, and then to my office, doing business there till 9 at night, and so
home and to supper and to bed. My house is now in its last dirt, I hope,
the plasterer and painter now being upon winding up all my trouble, which
I expect will now in a fortnight's time, or a little more, be quite over.
29th (Lord Mayor's day). Intended to have made me fine, and by invitation
to have dined with the Lord Mayor to-day, but going to see Sir W. Batten
this morning, I found Sir G. Carteret and Sir J. Minnes going with Sir W.
Batten and myself to examine Sir G. Carteret's accounts for the last year,
whereupon I settled to it with them all the day long, only dinner time
(which Sir G. Carteret gave us), and by night did as good as finish them,
and so parted, and thence to my office, and there set papers in order and
business against to-morrow. I received a letter this day from my father,
speaking more trouble about my uncle Thomas his business, and of
proceeding to lay claim to Brampton and all my uncle left, because it is
given conditional that we should pay legacys, which to him we have not yet
done, but I hope that will do us no hurt; God help us if it should, but it
disquiets my mind. I have also a letter from my Lord Sandwich desiring me
upon matters of concernment to be with him early tomorrow morning, which I
wonder what it should be. So my mind full of thoughts, and some trouble
at night, home and to bed. Sir G. Carteret, who had been at the examining
most of the late people that are clapped up, do say that he do not think
that there hath been any great plotting among them, though they have a
good will to it; but their condition is so poor, and silly, and low, that
they do not fear them at all.
30th. Could sleep but little to-night for thoughts of my business. So up
by candlelight and by water to Whitehall, and so to my Lord Sandwich, who
was up in his chamber and all alone, did acquaint me with his business;
which was, that our old acquaintance Mr. Wade (in Axe Yard) hath
discovered to him L7,000 hid in the Tower, of which he was to have two for
discovery; my Lord himself two, and the King the other three, when it was
found; and that the King's warrant runs for me on my Lord's part, and one
Mr. Lee for Sir Harry Bennet, to demand leave of the Lieutenant of the
Tower for to make search. After he had told me the whole business, I took
leave and hastened to my office, expecting to be called by a letter from
my Lord to set upon the business, and so there I sat with the officers all
the morning. At noon when we were up comes Mr. Wade with my Lord's
letter, and tells me the whole business. So we consulted for me to go
first to Sir H. Bennet, who is now with many of the Privy Counsellors at
the Tower, examining of their late prisoners, to advise with him when to
begin. So I went; and the guard at the Tower Gate, making me leave my
sword at the gate, I was forced to stay so long in the ale-house hard by,
till my boy run home for my cloak, that my Lord Mayor that now is, Sir
John Robinson, Lieutenant of the Tower, with all his company, was gone
with their coaches to his house in Minchen Lane. So my cloak being come, I
walked thither; and there, by Sir G. Carteret's means, did presently speak
with Sir H. Bennet, who did show and give me the King's warrant to me and
Mr. Leigh, and another to himself, for the paying of L2,000 to my Lord,
and other two to the discoverers. After a little discourse, dinner come
in; and I dined with them. There was my Lord Mayor, my Lord Lauderdale,
Mr. Secretary Morris, to whom Sir H. Bennet would give the upper hand; Sir
Wm. Compton, Sir G. Carteret, and myself, and some other company, and a
brave dinner. After dinner, Sir H. Bennet did call aside the Lord Mayor
and me, and did break the business to him, who did not, nor durst appear
the least averse to it, but did promise all assistance forthwith to set
upon it. So Mr. Lee and I to our office, and there walked till Mr. Wade
and one Evett his guide did come, and W. Griffin, and a porter with his
picke-axes, &c.; and so they walked along with us to the Tower, and Sir H.
Bennet and my Lord Mayor did give us full power to fall to work. So our
guide demands, a candle, and down into the cellars he goes, inquiring
whether they were the same that Baxter
[Intended for John Barkstead, Lieutenant of the Tower under
Cromwell. Committed to the Tower (see March 17th, 1661-62).]
always had. We went into several little cellars, and then went out
a-doors to view, and to the Cole Harbour; but none did answer so well to
the marks which was given him to find it by, as one arched vault. Where,
after a great deal of council whether to set upon it now, or delay for
better and more full advice, we set to it, to digging we went to almost
eight o'clock at night, but could find nothing. But, however, our guides
did not at all seem discouraged; for that they being confident that the
money is there they look for, but having never been in the cellars, they
could not be positive to the place, and therefore will inform themselves
more fully now they have been there, of the party that do advise them. So
locking the door after us, we left work to-night, and up to the Deputy
Governor (my Lord Mayor, and Sir H. Bennet, with the rest of the company
being gone an hour before); and he do undertake to keep the key of the
cellars, that none shall go down without his privity. But, Lord! to see
what a young simple fantastique coxcombe is made Deputy Governor, would
make one mad; and how he called out for his night-gown of silk, only to
make a show to us; and yet for half an hour I did not think he was the
Deputy Governor, and so spoke not to him about the business, but waited
for another man; at last I broke our business to him; and he promising his
care, we parted. And Mr. Leigh and I by coach to White Hall, where I did
give my Lord Sandwich an account of our proceedings, and some
encouragement to hope for something hereafter, and so bade him good-night,
and so by coach home again, where to my trouble I found that the painter
had not been here to-day to do any thing, which vexes me mightily. So to
my office to put down my journal, and so home and to bed. This morning,
walking with Mr. Coventry in the garden, he did tell me how Sir G.
Carteret had carried the business of the Victuallers' money to be paid by
himself, contrary to old practice; at which he is angry I perceive, but I
believe means no hurt, but that things maybe done as they ought. He
expects Sir George should not bespatter him privately, in revenge, but
openly. Against which he prepares to bedaub him, and swears he will do it
from the beginning, from Jersey to this day. And as to his own taking of
too large fees or rewards for places that he had sold, he will prove that
he was directed to it by Sir George himself among others. And yet he did
not deny Sir G. Carteret his due, in saying that he is a man that do take
the most pains, and gives himself the most to do business of any man about
the Court, without any desire of pleasure or divertisements; which is very
true. But which pleased me mightily, he said in these words, that he was
resolved, whatever it cost him, to make an experiment, and see whether it
was possible for a man to keep himself up in Court by dealing plainly and
walking uprightly, with any private game a playing: in the doing whereof,
if his ground do slip from under him, he will be contented; but he is
resolved to try, and never to baulke taking notice of any thing that is to
the King's prejudice, let it fall where it will; which is a most brave
resolucion. He was very free with me; and by my troth, I do see more
reall worth in him than in most men that I do know. I would not forget
two passages of Sir J. Minnes's at yesterday's dinner. The one, that to
the question how it comes to pass that there are no boars seen in London,
but many sows and pigs; it was answered, that the constable gets them
a-nights. The other, Thos. Killigrew's way of getting to see plays when
he was a boy. He would go to the Red Bull, and when the man cried to the
boys, "Who will go and be a devil, and he shall see the play for nothing?"
then would he go in, and be a devil upon the stage, and so get to see
plays.
31st. Lay pretty long in bed, and then up and among my workmen, the
carpenters being this day laying of my floor of my dining room, with whom
I staid a good while, and so to my office, and did a little business, and
so home to dinner, and after dinner all the afternoon with my carpenters,
making them lay all my boards but one in my dining room this day, which I
am confident they would have made two good days work of if I had not been
there, and it will be very pleasant. At night to my office, and there
late doing of my office business, and so home to supper and bed. Thus
ends this month, I and my family in good health, but weary heartily of
dirt, but now in hopes within two or three weeks to be out of it. My head
troubled with much business, but especially my fear of Sir J. Minnes
claiming my bed-chamber of me, but I hope now that it is almost over, for
I perceive he is fitting his house to go into it the next week. Then my
law businesses for Brampton makes me mad almost, for that I want time to
follow them, but I must by no means neglect them. I thank God I do save
money, though it be but a little, but I hope to find out some job or other
that I may get a sum by to set me up. I am now also busy in a discovery
for my Lord Sandwich and Sir H. Bennett by Mr. Wade's means of some of
Baxter's [Barkstead] money hid in one of his cellars in the Tower. If we
get it it may be I may be 10 or L20 the better for it. I thank God I have
no crosses, but only much business to trouble my mind with. In all other
things as happy a man as any in the world, for the whole world seems to
smile upon me, and if my house were done that I could diligently follow my
business, I would not doubt to do God, and the King, and myself good
service. And all I do impute almost wholly to my late temperance, since
my making of my vowes against wine and plays, which keeps me most happily
and contentfully to my business; which God continue! Public matters are
full of discontent, what with the sale of Dunkirk, and my Lady
Castlemaine, and her faction at Court; though I know not what they would
have more than to debauch the king, whom God preserve from it! And then
great plots are talked to be discovered, and all the prisons in town full
of ordinary people, taken from their meeting-places last Sunday. But for
certain some plots there hath been, though not brought to a head.
ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS:
All made much worse in their report among people than they are
Care not for his commands, and especially on Sundays
Catched cold yesterday by putting off my stockings
Hate in others, and more in myself, to be careless of keys
I fear that it must be as it can, and not as I would
Lying a great while talking and sporting in bed with my wife
My Jane's cutting off a carpenter's long mustacho
No good by taking notice of it, for the present she forbears
Parson is a cunning fellow he is as any of his coat
Pleasures are not sweet to me now in the very enjoying of them
She so cruel a hypocrite that she can cry when she pleases
Strange things he has been found guilty of, not fit to name
Then to church to a tedious sermon
When the candle is going out, how they bawl and dispute