The Diary of John Evelyn Volume II Part 18

Burnet, who had severely examined him, came away astonished, and they told me they did not believe there had the like appeared in the world.

He had only been instructed by his father, who being himself a learned person, confessed that his son knew all that he himself knew. But, what was more admirable than his vast memory, was his judgment and invention, he being tried with divers hard questions, which required maturity of thought and experience. He was also dexterous in chronology, antiquities, mathematics. In sum, an _intellectus universalis_, beyond all that we read of Picus Mirandula, and other precocious wits, and yet withal a very humble child.

14th July, 1679. I went to see how things stood at Parson's Green, my Lady Viscountess Mordaunt (now sick in Paris, whither she went for health) having made me a trustee for her children, an office I could not refuse to this most excellent, pious, and virtuous lady, my long acquaintance.

15th July, 1679. I dined with Mr. Sidney G.o.dolphin, now one of the Lords Commissioners of the Treasury.

18th July, 1679. I went early to the Old Bailey Sessions House, to the famous trial of Sir George Wakeman, one of the Queen's physicians, and three Benedictine monks; the first (whom I was well acquainted with, and take to be a worthy gentleman abhorring such a fact), for intending to poison the King; the others as accomplices to carry on the plot, to subvert the government, and introduce Popery. The bench was crowded with the judges, Lord Mayor justices, and innumerable spectators. The chief accusers, Dr. Oates (as he called himself), and one Bedlow, a man of inferior note. Their testimonies were not so pregnant, and I fear much of it from hearsay, but swearing positively to some particulars, which drew suspicion upon their truth; nor did circ.u.mstances so agree, as to give either the bench or jury so entire satisfaction as was expected.

After, therefore, a long and tedious trial of nine hours, the jury brought them in not guilty, to the extraordinary triumph of the Papists, and without sufficient disadvantage and reflections on witnesses, especially Oates and Bedlow.

This was a happy day for the lords in the Tower, who, expecting their trial, had this gone against the prisoners at the bar, would all have been in the utmost hazard. For my part, I look on Oates as a vain, insolent man, puffed up with the favor of the Commons for having discovered something really true, more especially as detecting the dangerous intrigue of Coleman, proved out of his own letters, and of a general design which the Jesuited party of the Papists ever had and still have, to ruin the Church of England; but that he was trusted with those great secrets he pretended, or had any solid ground for what he accused divers n.o.blemen of, I have many reasons to induce my contrary belief. That among so many commissions as he affirmed to have delivered to them from P. Oliva[40] and the Pope,--he who made no scruple of opening all other papers, letters, and secrets, should not only not open any of those pretended commissions, but not so much as take any copy or witness of any one of them, is almost miraculous. But the Commons (some leading persons I mean of them) had so exalted him that they took all he said for Gospel, and without more ado ruined all whom he named to be conspirators; nor did he spare whoever came in his way. But, indeed, the murder of Sir Edmundbury G.o.dfrey, suspected to have been compa.s.sed by the Jesuits' party for his intimacy with Coleman (a busy person whom I also knew), and the fear they had that he was able to have discovered things to their prejudice, did so exasperate not only the Commons, but all the nation, that much of these sharpnesses against the more honest Roman Catholics who lived peaceably, is to be imputed to that horrid fact.

[Footnote 40: Padre Oliva, General of the Order of Jesuits.]

The sessions ended, I dined or rather supped (so late it was) with the judges in the large room annexed to the place, and so returned home.

Though it was not my custom or delight to be often present at any capital trials, we having them commonly so exactly published by those who take them in short-hand, yet I was inclined to be at this signal one, that by the ocular view of the carriages and other circ.u.mstances of the managers and parties concerned, I might inform myself, and regulate my opinion of a cause that had so alarmed the whole nation.

22d July, 1679. Dined at Clapham, at Sir D. Gauden's; went thence with him to Windsor, to a.s.sist him in a business with his Majesty. I lay that night at Eton College, the Provost's lodgings (Dr. Craddock), where I was courteously entertained.

[Sidenote: LONDON]

23d July, 1679. To Court: after dinner, I visited that excellent painter, Verrio, whose works in _fresco_ in the King's palace, at Windsor, will celebrate his name as long as those walls last. He showed us his pretty garden, choice flowers, and curiosities, he himself being a skillful gardener.

I went to Clifden, that stupendous natural rock, wood, and prospect, of the Duke of Buckingham's, and buildings of extraordinary expense. The grots in the chalky rocks are pretty: it is a romantic object, and the place altogether answers the most poetical description that can be made of solitude, precipice, prospect, or whatever can contribute to a thing so very like their imaginations. The stand, somewhat like Frascati as to its front, and on the platform is a circular view to the utmost verge of the horizon, which, with the serpenting of the Thames, is admirable. The staircase is for its materials singular; the cloisters, descents, gardens, and avenue through the wood, august and stately; but the land all about wretchedly barren, and producing nothing but fern. Indeed, as I told his Majesty that evening (asking me how I liked Clifden) without flattery, that it did not please me so well as Windsor for the prospect and park, which is without compare; there being but one only opening, and that narrow, which led one to any variety; whereas that of Windsor is everywhere great and unconfined.

Returning, I called at my cousin Evelyn's, who has a very pretty seat in the forest, two miles by hither Clifden, on a flat, with gardens exquisitely kept, though large, and the house a staunch good old building, and what was singular, some of the rooms floored dove tail-wise without a nail, exactly close. One of the closets is pargeted with plain deal, set in diamond, exceeding staunch and pretty.

7th August, 1679. Dined at the Sheriff's, when, the Company of Drapers and their wives being invited, there was a sumptuous entertainment, according to the forms of the city, with music, etc., comparable to any prince's service in Europe.

8th August, 1679. I went this morning to show my Lord Chamberlain, his Lady, and the d.u.c.h.ess of Grafton, the incomparable work of Mr. Gibbon, the carver, whom I first recommended to his Majesty, his house being furnished like a cabinet, not only with his own work, but divers excellent paintings of the best hands. Thence, to Sir Stephen Fox's, where we spent the day.

31st August, 1679. After evening service, to see a neighbor, one Mr.

Bohun, related to my son's late tutor of that name, a rich Spanish merchant, living in a neat place, which he has adorned with many curiosities, especially several carvings of Mr. Gibbons, and some pictures by Streeter.

13th September, 1679. To Windsor, to congratulate his Majesty on his recovery; I kissed the Duke's hand, now lately returned from Flanders[41] to visit his brother the King, on which there were various bold and foolish discourses, the Duke of Monmouth being sent away.

[Footnote 41: He returned the day before, the 12th of September.

This is another of the indications that the entries of this Diary were not always made on the precise days they refer to.]

19th September, 1679. My Lord Sunderland, one of the princ.i.p.al Secretaries of State, invited me to dinner, where was the King's natural son, the Earl of Plymouth, the Earl of Shrewsbury, Earl of Ess.e.x, Earl of Mulgrave, Mr. Hyde, and Mr. G.o.dolphin. After dinner I went to prayers at Eton, and visited Mr. Henry G.o.dolphin, fellow there, and Dr.

Craddock.

25th September, 1679. Mr. Slingsby and Signor Verrio came to dine with me, to whom I gave China oranges off my own trees, as good, I think, as were ever eaten.

6th October, 1679. A very wet and sickly season.

23d October, 1679. Dined at my Lord Chamberlain's, the King being now newly returned from his Newmarket recreations.

4th November, 1679. Dined at the Lord Mayor's; and, in the evening, went to the funeral of my pious, dear, and ancient learned friend, Dr. Jasper Needham, who was buried at St. Bride's Church. He was a true and holy Christian, and one who loved me with great affection. Dr. Dove preached with an eulogy due to his memory. I lost in this person one of my dearest remaining sincere friends.

5th November, 1679. I was invited to dine at my Lord Teviotdale's, a Scotch Earl, a learned and knowing n.o.bleman. We afterward went to see Mr. Montague's new palace near Bloomsbury, built by our curator, Mr.

Hooke, somewhat after the French; it was most n.o.bly furnished, and a fine, but too much exposed garden.[42]

[Footnote 42: Now the British Museum.]

[Sidenote: LONDON]

6th November, 1679. Dined at the Countess of Sunderland's, and was this evening at the remarriage of the d.u.c.h.ess of Grafton to the Duke (his Majesty's natural son), she being now twelve years old. The ceremony was performed in my Lord Chamberlain's (her father's) lodgings at Whitehall by the Bishop of Rochester, his Majesty being present. A sudden and unexpected thing, when everybody believed the first marriage would have come to nothing; but, the measure being determined, I was privately invited by my Lady, her mother, to be present. I confess I could give her little joy, and so I plainly told her, but she said the King would have it so, and there was no going back. This sweetest, most hopeful, most beautiful, child, and most virtuous, too, was sacrificed to a boy that had been rudely bred, without anything to encourage them but his Majesty's pleasure. I pray G.o.d the sweet child find it to her advantage, who, if my augury deceive me not, will in a few years be such a paragon as were fit to make the wife of the greatest Prince in Europe! I staid supper, where his Majesty sat between the d.u.c.h.ess of Cleveland (the mother of the Duke of Grafton) and the sweet d.u.c.h.ess the bride; there were several great persons and ladies, without pomp. My love to my Lord Arlington's family, and the sweet child made me behold all this with regret, though as the Duke of Grafton affects the sea, to which I find his father intends to use him, he may emerge a plain, useful and robust officer: and were he polished, a tolerable person; for he is exceedingly handsome, by far surpa.s.sing any of the King's other natural issue.

8th November, 1679. At Sir Stephen Fox's, and was agreeing for the Countess of Bristol's house at Chelsea, within 500.

18th November, 1679. I dined at my Lord Mayor's, being desired by the Countess of Sunderland to carry her thither on a solemn day, that she might see the pomp and ceremony of this Prince of Citizens, there never having been any, who for the stateliness of his palace, prodigious feasting, and magnificence, exceeded him. This Lord Mayor's acquaintance had been from the time of his being apprentice to one Mr. Abbot, his uncle, who being a scrivener, and an honest worthy man, one who was condemned to die at the beginning of the troubles forty years past, as concerned in the commission of array for King Charles I. had escaped with his life; I often used his a.s.sistance in money matters. Robert Clayton, then a boy, his nephew, became, after his uncle Abbot's death, so prodigiously rich and opulent, that he was reckoned one of the wealthiest citizens. He married a free-hearted woman, who became his hospitable disposition; and having no children, with the accession of his partner and fellow apprentice, who also left him his estate, he grew excessively rich. He was a discreet magistrate, and though envied, I think without much cause. Some believed him guilty of hard dealing, especially with the Duke of Buckingham, much of whose estate he had swallowed, but I never saw any ill by him, considering the trade he was of. The reputation and known integrity of his uncle, Abbot, brought all the royal party to him, by which he got not only great credit, but vast wealth, so as he pa.s.sed this office with infinite magnificence and honor.

20th November, 1679. I dined with Mr. Slingsby, Master of the Mint, with my wife, invited to hear music, which was exquisitely performed by four of the most renowned masters: Du Prue, a Frenchman, on the lute; Signor Bartholomeo, an Italian, on the harpsichord; Nicholao on the violin; but, above all, for its sweetness and novelty, the _viol d'amore_ of five wire strings played on with a bow, being but an ordinary violin, played on lyre-way, by a German. There was also a _flute douce_, now in much request for accompanying the voice. Mr. Slingsby, whose son and daughter played skillfully, had these meetings frequently in his house.

21st November, 1679. I dined at my Lord Mayor's, to accompany my worthiest and generous friend, the Earl of Ossory; it was on a Friday, a private day, but the feast and entertainment might have become a King.

Such an hospitable costume and splendid magistrature does no city in the world show, as I believe.

23d November, 1679. Dr. Allestree preached before the household on St.

Luke xi. 2; Dr. Lloyd on Matt. xxiii. 20, before the King, showing with how little reason the Papists applied those words of our blessed Savior to maintain the pretended infallibility they boast of. I never heard a more Christian and excellent discourse; yet were some offended that he seemed to say the Church of Rome was a true church; but it was a captious mistake; for he never affirmed anything that could be more to their reproach, and that such was the present Church of Rome, showing how much it had erred. There was not in this sermon so much as a shadow for censure, no person of all the clergy having testified greater zeal against the errors of the Papists than this pious and most learned person. I dined at the Bishop of Rochester's, and then went to St.

Paul's to hear that great wit, Dr. Sprat, now newly succeeding Dr.

Outram, in the cure of St. Margaret's. His talent was a great memory, never making use of notes, a readiness of expression in a most pure and plain style of words, full of matter, easily delivered.

26th November, 1679. I met the Earl of Clarendon with the rest of my fellow executors of the Will of my late Lady Viscountess Mordaunt, namely, Mr. Laurence Hyde, one of the Commissioners of the Treasury, and lately Plenipotentiary-Amba.s.sador at Nimeguen; Andrew Newport; and Sir Charles Wheeler; to examine and audit and dispose of this year's account of the estate of this excellent Lady, according to the direction of her Will.

27th November, 1679. I went to see Sir John Stonehouse, with whom I was treating a marriage between my son and his daughter-in-law.

28th November, 1679. Came over the Duke of Monmouth from Holland unexpectedly to his Majesty; while the Duke of York was on his journey to Scotland, whither the King sent him to reside and govern. The bells and bonfires of the city at this arrival of the Duke of Monmouth publis.h.i.+ng their joy, to the no small regret of some at Court. This Duke, whom for distinction they called the Protestant Duke (though the son of an abandoned woman), the people made their idol.

[Sidenote: LONDON]

4th December, 1679. I dined, together with Lord Ossory and the Earl of Chesterfield, at the Portugal Amba.s.sador's, now newly come, at Cleveland House, a n.o.ble palace, too good for that infamous.... The staircase is sumptuous, and the gallery and garden; but, above all, the costly furniture belonging to the Amba.s.sador, especially the rich j.a.pan cabinets, of which I think there were a dozen. There was a billiard table, with as many more hazards as ours commonly have; the game being only to prosecute the ball till hazarded, without pa.s.sing the port, or touching the pin; if one miss. .h.i.tting the ball every time, the game is lost, or if hazarded. It is more difficult to hazard a ball, though so many, than in our table, by reason the bound is made so exactly even, and the edges not stuffed; the b.a.l.l.s are also bigger, and they for the most part use the sharp and small end of the billiard stick, which is shod with bra.s.s, or silver. The entertainment was exceedingly civil; but, besides a good olio, the dishes were trifling, hashed and condited after their way, not at all fit for an English stomach, which is for solid meat. There was yet good fowls, but roasted to coal, nor were the sweetmeats good.

30th December, 1679. I went to meet Sir John Stonehouse, and give him a particular of the settlement on my son, who now made his addresses to the young lady his daughter-in-law, daughter of Lady Stonehouse.

25th January, 1679-80. Dr. Cave, author of "Primitive Christianity,"

etc., a pious and learned man, preached at Whitehall to the household, on James iii. 17, concerning the duty of grace and charity.

30th January, 1680. I supped with Sir Stephen Fox, now made one of the Lords Commissioners of the Treasury.

19th February, 1680. The writings for the settling jointure and other contracts of marriage of my son were finished and sealed. The lady was to bring 5,000, in consideration of a settlement of 500 a year present maintenance, which was likewise to be her jointure, and 500 a year after mine and my wife's decease. But, with G.o.d's blessing, it will be at the least 1,000 a year more in a few years. I pray G.o.d make him worthy of it, and a comfort to his excellent mother, who deserves much from him!

21st February, 1680. SHROVE-TUESDAY. My son was married to Mrs. Martha Spencer, daughter to my Lady Stonehouse by a former gentleman, at St.

Andrew's, Holborn, by our Vicar, borrowing the church of Dr.

Stillingfleet, Dean of St. Paul's, the present inc.u.mbent. We afterward dined at a house in Holborn; and, after the solemnity and dancing was done, they were bedded at Sir John Stonehouse's lodgings in Bow Street, Convent Garden.

26th February, 1680. To the Royal Society, where I met an Irish Bishop with his Lady, who was daughter to my worthy and pious friend, Dr.

Jeremy Taylor, late Bishop of Down and Connor; they came to see the Repository. She seemed to be a knowing woman, beyond the ordinary talent of her s.e.x.

3d March, 1680. I dined at my Lord Mayor's, in order to the meeting of my Lady Beckford, whose daughter (a rich heiress) I had recommended to my brother of Wotton for his only son, she being the daughter of the lady by Mr. Eversfield, a Suss.e.x gentleman.