Waking this morning
out of my sleep on a sudden, I did with my elbow hit my wife a great blow
over her face and nose, which waked her with pain - at which I was sorry.
And to sleep again.
January 23rd
All the morning with Mr Berchenshaw and after him Mr
Moore, in discourse of business; and at noon by coach by invitation to
my Uncle Fenners, where I find his new wife, a pitiful, old, ugly, illbread
woman in a hatt, a midwife. Here were many of his and as many of her relations,
sorry mean people. And after choosing our gloves, we all went over to
the Three Crane taverne, and (though the best room in the house) in such
a narrow doghole we were crammed (and I believe we were near 40) that
it made me loathe my company and my victuals; and a sorry poor dinner
it was too.
January 27th
This morning, going to take water upon Tower hill, we
met with three Sleddes standing there to carry my Lord Monson and Sir
H. Mildmay and another to the gallowes and back again, with ropes about
their neck. Which is to be repeated every year - this being the day of
their sentencing the King
Viscount Monson, Sir Henry Mildmay and Robert Wallop
had been members of the regicide tribunal, but had not attended its later
meetings and did not sign the death-warrant. At their trial in July 1661
their lives had been spared, but they had suffered degradation from all
titles and offices, forfeiture of estates and life imprisonment, as well
as the punishment described here.
February 18th
... Having agreed with Sir Wm Pen and my wife to meet
them at the Opera, and finding by my walking in the streets, which were
everywhere full of brick battes and tyeles flung down by the extraordinary
Winde the last night (such as hath not been in memory before, unless at
the death of the late Protector) that it was dangerous to go out of doors;
and hearing how several persons have been killed today by the fall of
things in the streets and the pageant in Fleetstreete is most of it blown
down, and hath broke down part of several houses, among others Dick Brigdens,
and that one Lady Sanderson, a person of Quality in Covent garden, was
killed by the fall of the house in her bed last night, I sent my boy home
to forbid them to go forth....
Windy Tuesday was certainly the best documented,
and in s England perhaps the worst, storm between 1362 and 1703.
February 25th
...At noon with Mr Moore to the Coffee-house, where
among other things, the great talk was of the effects of this late great
wind; and I heard one say that he hath five great trees standing together
blown down, and going to lop them - one of them, as soon as the lops were
cut off, did by the weight of the root rise again and fasten. We have
letters from the Forrest of Deane, that above 1000 oakes and as many beeches
are blown down in one walke there. And letters from my father tells me
of 20 hurt to us down at Brampton.
The Forest of Dean was the largest of the English
nurseries of naval timber.
February 28th
... Home; and to be as good as my word, I bid Will get
me a rod, and he and I called the boy up to one of the upper rooms of
the Controllers house toward the garden, and there I reckoned all his
faults and whipped him soundly; but the rods were so small that I fear
they did not much hurt to him, but only to my arme, which I am already,
within a Quarter of an houre, not able to stir almost. After supper, to
bed.
March 1st
... thence to the Opera and there saw Romeo and Julett,
the first time it was ever acted [after the Restoration] But it
is the play of itself the worst that ever I heard in my life, and the
worst acted that ever I saw these people do; ....
April 19th
This morning before we sat, I went to Allgate; and at
the Corner shop, a drapers, I stood and did see Barkestead, Okey and Corbet
drawne toward the gallows at Tiburne; and there they were hanged and Quarterd.
They all looked very cheerfully. But I hear they all die defending what
they did to the King to be just - which is very strange ....
June 30th
This I take to be as bad a Juncture as ever I observed.
The King and his new Queene minding their pleasures
at Hampton Court. All people discontented; some that the King doth not
gratify them enough; and the others, Fanatiques of all sorts, that the
King doth take away their liberty of conscience; and the heighth of the
Bishops, who I fear will ruin all again. They do much cry up the manner
of Sir H Vanes death, and he deserves it. They clamour against the chimny-money
and they say they will not pay it without force. And in the meantime,
like to have wars abroad. - and Portugall to assist, when we have not
money to pay for any ordinary layings-out at home.
Myself all in dirt about building of my house and Sir
W Batten's a storey higher. Into a good way; fallen on minding my business
and saving money, which God increase; and I do take great delight in it
and see the benefit of it. In a longing mind of going to see Brampton,
but cannot get three days time, do what I can.
In good health, my wife and myself
October 11th
... I mounted and rode to Huntingdon and so to Brampton,
where I find my father and two Brothers and Mr Cooke, my mother and sister.
So we are now all together, God knows when we shall be so again. I walked
up and down the house and garden, and find my father's alterations very
handsome; but not so but that there will be cause enough of doing more
if ever I should come to live there; but it is, however, very well for
a country [house], being as any little thing in the country.
October 13th
Up to Hinchingbrooke and there with Mr Sheply did look
all over the house; and I do, I confess, like well of the alterations
and do like the staircase; but there being nothing done to make the outside
more regular and moderne, I am not satisfied with it, but do think it
be too much to be laid out upon it.
Thence with Sheply to Huntingdon to the Crowne, and
there did sit and talk and eat a breakfast of cold roast beef. And so
he to St Ives market and I to Sir Robt Bernard for counsel - having a
letter from my Lord Sandwich to that end....
...Thence home, and with my father took a melancholy
walk to Portholme, seeing the country-maids milking their Cowes there
(they being now at grasse) and to see with what mirth they come all home
together in pomp with their milk, and sometimes they have musique go before
them.
October 14th
... and without eating or drinking, take leave of father,
mother, Pall (to whom I did give 10s but have shown no kind of kindness
since I came, for I find her so very ill-natured that I cannot love her,
and she so cruel an Hypocrite that she can cry when she please) and John,
and away - calling in at Hinchingbrooke and taking leave in three words
of my Lady and the young ladies; and so by Moonelight most bravely all
the way to Cambrige with great pleasure....