No More Learning

III. E



50 CONTINUATION OF THE LIFE OF

Bewett replied, "that he knew he had many
'" friends in the English court, whereof some were
" of near trust about his majesty, for whose secrecy
" he would be accountable ;" and named the lord
Arlington, who had lately married a lady of the
Hague, the daughter of monsieur Beverwaert, a
person in his quality and fortune in the first rank.
He offered to him, "that he would himself write
" such a letter to the lord Arlington in his own
" name, which he should first see and approve,
" without which he would not send it, as should
" only testify his own good wishes for a peace be-
" tween the two nations, which were not unknown
" to the king himself; and would make no other
" mention of him, than that he had reason to believe,
" that monsieur De Wit (in whose good opinion he
" had the honour to be known to have some place)
" would not be unwilling to promote any good over-
" ture that should be made. " After some debate he
was content that he should write, provided that he
would promise to write nothing but what he should
first see, and would still bring the answers to him
which he should receive; to which the other con-
sented.
ikwett Upon this encouragement he begun his corre-

entcrs into

acorre- spondence with the lord Arlington, and acquainted
his bosom-friends witli it, to dispose them the more
* hope for peace, and to look upon De Wit as not



De wit's averse t o it. But what he writ was with so much

consent.

wariness, being dictated upon the matter by the
pensioner, that it could draw no other answers from
the secretary but of the same style, with expressions
of his majesty's desire of peace and esteem of De
Wit, and as if he expected some overtures to arise



EDWARD EARL OF CLARENDON. 51

from thence. This intelligence had not been long 1660.
on foot, but he begun to suspect the sincerity of He soon
De Wit, and that indeed he was not so well inclined *" s P ect ? De

t \Vits siu-

to peace as he had pretended to be : his countenance cerit y-
was not so open, nor he so vacant when he came,
as he used to be ; he grew less jealous of the French,
and more composed himself, and less apprehensive
of the people, as he found them more composed,
and a greater concurrence in the making all things
ready for the fleet. All which observations he like-
wise imparted to his companions, who were glad to
find him begin to be undeceived ; and from that time
he was apter to concur with them in the fiercer
counsels, how to compass a peace in spite of him And re-
by a majority of votes in the States, with the help ge t a peace
of the people, for the suppression of any accidental i
insurrection whereof a , there were no other forces in
view than tnose horse-guards that were commanded
by him.

Hereupon he took a new resolution, but would
not lose the advantage he had by the knowledge
De Wit had of his correspondence, and therefore
shewed him a letter that he had received from the
lord Arlington, in which he pressed him " to inform
" him, what particulars would dispose the States to
" peace, and to separate from the French," and had
sent him a cipher for the more free and safe com-
munication ; which cipher he deposited in the hands
of De Wit, having received his directions and ob-
served them by using the same cipher, which the
other examined and kept, and hoped by the answer
to put an end to that correspondence, of which he

a for the suppression of any for any accidental suppression"
accidental insurrection whereof] whereof

E 2



52 CONTINUATION OF THE LIFE OF

1666. grew weary, and less confident of the person, be-
~ cause he heard that he was grown less zealous in
his defence than he had been.

Bewett upon this grew more resolute one way



a secret .

correspond- and less apprehensive the other way, and sent a per-
theEng-' son with whom he had great friendship, and who
iih court. wag we jj k nown to tne k m g an( j most about him,

monsieur Silvius, a servant to the late princess royal,
and a native of Orange, with a full account " of the
" state of the counsels at the Hague, and his disco-
" very that De Wit did not in truth desire a peace,
" nor would consent to it, but upon very unreason-
" able terms," whereof some were mentioned in his
letter in cipher which he had dictated ; " but that
" he was most assured, that he should be compelled
" at the next assembly of the States to submit to
" more reasonable conditions. " He gave the king
an account of the ground of his confidence, and an
information of the persons who were combined to-
gether to press it in the States, amongst which there
were some of the greatest power : and by their ad-
vice he offered the substance of a message they
wished the king should send to the States General
at the time of their convening, in which there was
nothing contained against which any thing could be
objected on his majesty's behalf; and " upon the de-
" livery thereof there would so few adhere to De
" Wit, that he should not be able to prevent a treaty,
" though France should protest against it. " He sent
likewise at the same time, and by the same person,
another cipher to the lord Arlington, with direction
" that in such letters as were intended for the view
" of the pensioner the former cipher should be used,
" and in the other letters, which were to be concealed



EDWARD EARL OF CLARENDON. 53

"from him, and 'which were for the most part to 1666'.
" contain intelligence and advice against him, the ~
" latter cipher was only to be made use of. "

Those informations by Silvius, who was a man of
parts, and had dependance upon the duke of York,
and meant not to return into Holland except upon
a pressing occasion, when he durst adventure to go,
being looked upon as an inhabitant of the Hague,
having been always bred there, and his relation to
the duke scarce yet taken notice of; I say, those
informations the king thought to be worthy to be
well considered, and conferred with the chancellor
upon the whole, and appointed the lord Arlington
to inform him of all that had passed from the be-
ginning ; and that Silvius, who was concealed, that
they might have no advertisement in Holland of his
having been in England, should likewise attend him
in some evening; which he shortly after did, and
made him an ample and clear relation of the state
of the counsels at the Hague, and the several fac-
tions amongst them, and the distemper of the people.
He had himself spoken with many of the burgomas-
ters and others in authority, who were privy to his
coming, and communicated the method they meant
to proceed in towards the depressing De Wit, by
mingling the proposition for peace with the interest
of the prince of Orange, which the people thought
to be inseparable.

In fine, he gave a perfect good account of all to
which he was instructed, with great modesty : and
when the chancellor, to whom Bewett and he were
both well known, would have induced him to de-
liver somewhat of his own judgment, whether he
thought that combination to be strong enough to

E 3



54 CONTINUATION OF THE LIFE OF

I r>f>f>. overrule De Wit ; he could draw no other answer
from him than the magnifying the credit and inter-
est of Bewett, which he seemed principally to rely
upon, and the impossibility that he should fail in
point of integrity or courage.

Silvius had settled a sure way of correspondence,
and by every post received fresh intelligence of the
preparations and progress Bewett and his friends
made in their designs, of the success whereof they
were every day more confident, and thought their
party so much to increase, that as they did not ap-
prehend any discovery like to be made by treachery,
so they did not seem to fear it, if De Wit himself
should know all that they intended : and they pressed
very earnestly, " that the king's letter, in the man-
" ner they had proposed, might be at the Hague
" when the General States were to meet," the time
whereof approached.

The king called those to him to whom the whole
negociation had been imparted, to advise what was
to-be done. On the king's part nothing was consi-
derable, but whether he should write to the States
at all, and what he should write : and against writ-
ing there seemed to be no objection, and as little
against writing what they advised, which was no
more than he had formerly writ, and always said to
their ambassador. And that this might be a more
favourable conjuncture for the good reception of it,
and hearkening to it, his majesty was reasonably to
believe those who meant to second and promote it
with their own reasons : and therefore the time and
the manner of the delivery of it was left to be re-
solved amongst themselves, the king having no min-
ister there to present it.



EDWARD EARL OF CLARENDON. 55

The way that they had thought of was, that Bewett ] 666.
should at the proper time deliver it to De Wit, who ~~
durst not conceal it, and if he should, there would
be ways enough to publish it to his reproach ; nor
could he take any advantage of Bewett for his cor-
respondence with their enemies, because it had been
entered into with his approbation. But for the
better security in the sending it, and the better in-
formation of the persons engaged, of all the re-
flections which had been made by the king, and
those with whom he had conferred by his majesty's
order, it was thought best that Silvius should return ;
and if Bewett thought fit to decline the delivery of
the king's letter, and no better way could be found
for the delivery of it, he might present it in the
manner his friends there should direct, and avow
his having been at London to solicit his own pre-
tences since the death of the princess royal his mis-
tress, and that he had received the letter from the
king's own hand. This being the concurrent opin-
ion of all, and the gentleman himself willing to un-
dertake it, Silvius was despatched.

In the debate of the matter, the king asked the
chancellor " what he thought of the design, and
" whether he thought it would succeed ;" who said,
" he doubted it much, and that it would conclude in
" the loss of poor Bewett's head, who had not a talent
" for the managery of an affair of that weight, which
" would require great secrecy and great sobriety,
" and the consideration of more particulars at once
" than his comprehension could contain together. "
Then he did not like the method they proposed, of
joining the demand of peace witlj the interest of
the prince of Orange, which, though it might pro-

E 4



56 CONTINUATION OF THE LIFE OF

i 66(i. bably follow the peace and be an effect of it, would
"not be seasonable to be joined with it in regard
of his infancy ; and that many did heartily desire
the peace, who had no mind that the prince should
be restored to the offices of his father and family, or
that there should be any debate of it, till the prince
came to the age that was provided by the solemn act
and declaration of the States : which had been the
reason that his majesty (who had all the tenderness
for his nephew that a parent could have) would
never be persuaded to mention him (though it had
been proposed by many, and even by the elector of
Brandenburgh and the princess dowager) in the
conditions of the peace ; the king foreseeing that De
Wit would have been glad to have that advantage,
as to observe to the people, that the king would
prescribe to them what officers they should choose
and admit into their government, and that they must
have no peace, except they would take a general
and a stadtholder and an admiral of his nomination,
which was to make them subject to himself.

And this was the reason, that in all conferences
with the French ambassadors, who sometimes would
mention the prince of Orange with compassion for
the ingratitude of the States towards him, and add,
" that they doubted not their master would be ready
" to join with his majesty in doing him all offices ;"
and sometimes when the Dutch ambassador (who
was of that party that did really wish the restora-
tion of the prince) in conference would seem to
wish and to believe, that the restoring the prince of
Orange would be the consequence of the peace : the
king never gave other answer, than " that he should
** be very glad that the States would gratify his ne-



EDWARD EARL OF CLARENDON. 57

" phew ; but that it was a matter he had nothing to 1 66C.
" do to interpose in, it depending wholly upon their ~
" own good-will and pleasure. "

The rest who were present had much more esteem
of Bewett than the chancellor had, (who thought as
well of his courage and integrity as they did,) and
believed he would have success in what he designed,
his interest in the right of his wife being confessedly
very great amongst the States, and his jolly course
of living having rendered him very acceptable and
grateful to men of the most different affections ;
and then of all the officers of the militia he was most
esteemed, which was like to be of moment, if the
dispute brought the matter to a struggle : but the
event shewed the contrary.

After Siivius's departure, letters passed between
them, as they had used to do, for two or three posts.
And Bewett one day meeting De Wit when he
came from his good fellows, and they walking a
turn together in common discourse, De Wit asked
him, " when he had any letter from England, and
" how affairs went there :" to which he suddenly an-
swered, " that he came just then from receiving
" one, which he had not yet deciphered," and put his Bewett's
hand into his pocket, and took thence a letter ; and res



casting his eyes (which were never good, and now JS^ed' 3
worse by the company he had left) upon the super- b > Ue wit -
scription, he gave it to him, and said, " he would
" go with him that they might decipher it together
" according to custom. "

De Wit presently found that it was not the ac-
customed cipher, (for he had delivered the wrong
letter, that which he ought not to see,) and desired
him " that he would walk before, and he would pre-



58 CONTINUATION OF THE LIFE OF

16G6. " sently overtake him, after he had spoken a few
~~" words at a house in his way. " And so leaving
him, he took present order for the apprehending
him and searching his pockets; and at the same
time sent to his house, and caused his cabinet, where
all his papers were, to be examined and sealed up.
And so poor Bewett, whilst he stayed at the other's
house that they might decipher the letter, was ap-
prehended, and all his papers taken out of his
pockets, and he sent to prison. The other cipher
was quickly found, and many letters and other pa-
pers, which discovered many secrets. Whereupon a
court of justice was speedily erected: and within
three days, according to the expedition used there
Upon which in such cases, a scaffold was erected, and the poor
ccuted. gentleman brought thither in the sight of all his
friends ; and there, with his known courage, and in
few words declaring " that he had honest purposes
" to the country," lost his head.
His friends Silvius quickly heard of his imprisonment, and as

obliged to .

fl y . soon thought it necessary to make his own escape,

and arrived in England l>efore he heard of his last
misfortune, which he did not suspect, nor knew
how the discovery had been made. The knot, thus
broken, dispersed themselves : most of them got into
Flanders ; the burgomaster of Rotterdam, and two
or three others of note, made all the haste they
could into England ; some thought themselves se-
cure in Antwerp and other parts of Flanders ; and
some were seized upon in several places of the
States' dominions, and imprisoned with all the cir-
cumstances of severity, though upon the want of
clear proofs few of them were put to death. The
troop of guards was reformed, or rather transformed,



EDWARD EARL OF CLARENDON. 59

under new officers, and assigned for a constant guard 1666.
to the States, without the least formal relation to the ~~
prince of Orange, or using his name or livery, or
permission to pay any reverence to him. And so
the prince was much lower than before, and all
hopes of reviving almost extinguished or expired ;
De Wit stood firmer upon his own feet than ever,
and directed all preparations for the war without
control ; and all the present expectation in England
vanished : whilst the pensionary informed France of
the dangers he had escaped for them, and what
great matters had been offered to him if he would
have departed from their interest ; and made the
plot to contain all that he fancied it might have
done.

When the parliament at Oxford was prorogued,
it was to a day in April : but the king had reason
to believe that they would not so soon be in good
humour enough to give more money, which was the
principal end of calling them together. And the
dregs of the plague still remaining, and venting its
malignity in many burials every week, his majesty
thought fit to dispense with their attendance at that
time by a proclamation : and he caused it at the
day to be prorogued to the twentieth of September
following. In the mean time the court abounded in
all its excesses. There had been some hope during
the abode at Oxford, that the queen had been with
child ; and whilst that hope lasted, the king lived
with more constraint and caution, and prepared to
make himself worthy of that blessing : and there
are many reasons to believe, besides his own natural
good inclinations, that if God had vouchsafed to
have given him a child, and the queen that blessing



60 CONTINUATION OF THE LIFE OF

I66(j. to have merited from him, he would have restrained
~ all those inordinate appetites and delights ; and that
he would seriously have applied himself to his go-
vernment, and cut off all those extravagant expenses
of money and time, which disturbed and corrupted
the evenness of his own nature and the sincerity of
his intentions^ and exposed him to the temptations of
those who had all the traps and snares to catch and
detain him.

miMarrin 1 ^e imagination of the queen's breeding was one
cause of her stay there ; and her stay there was the
longer, because she miscarried when she intended to
begin her journey. And though the doctors declared
that it was a real miscarriage, ripe enough to make
a judgment of the sex ; yet some of the women who
had more credit with the king assured him, " that
" it was only a false conception, and that she had
" not been at all with child :" insomuch that his ma-
jesty, who had been so confident upon a former oc-
casion b , as to declare to the queen his mother and
to others, " that upon his own knowledge her ma-
" jesty had miscarried of a son," suffered himself
now to be so totally convinced by those ladies and
other women, that he did as positively believe that

Great H- s he never had, never could be, with child. And

cense in the . .

court. from that time he took little pleasure in her conver-
sation, and more indulged to himself all liberties in
the conversation of those, who used all their skill to
supply him with divertisements, which might drive
all that was serious out of his thoughts, and make
him undervalue those whom he had used, and still
did most trust and employ, in what he thought most
important ; though he sometimes thought many

l> occasion] Omitted in MS.



EDWARD EARL OF CLARENDON. 61

things not of importance, which in the consequence 1 666.
were of the highest.

The lady, who had never declined in favour, was
now greater in power than ever : she was with child
again, and well enough contented that his majesty
should entertain an amour with another lady, and
made a very strict friendship with her, it may be
the more diligently out of confidence that he would
never prevail with her, which many others believed
too. But without doubt the king's passion was
stronger towards that other lady, than ever it was
to any other woman : and she carried it with that
discretion and modesty, that she made no other use
of it than for the convenience of her own fortune and
subsistence, which was narrow enough ; never seemed
disposed to interpose in the least degree in business,
nor to speak ill of any body ; which kind of nature
and temper the more inflamed the king's affection,
who did not in his nature love a busy woman, and
had an aversion from speaking with any woman, or
hearing them speak, of any business but to that pur-
pose he thought them all made for, however they
broke in afterwards upon him to all other purposes.

The lady herself, who every day (as was said be-
fore) grew in power and credit, did not yet presume
to interpose in any other business, than in giving all
the imaginable countenance she could to those who
desired to depend upon her, and, in their right as
well as her own, in depressing the credit of those
who she knew wished hers much less than it was ;
but in this last argument she was hitherto wary, and
took only such opportunities as were offered, with-
out going out of her way to find . them. Her prin-
cipal business was to get an estate for herself and



(>2 CONTINUATION OF THE LIFE OF

1666. her children, which she thought the king at least as
"much concerned to provide as she to solicit; which
however she would not be wanting in, and so pro-
cured round sums of money out of the privy purse,
(where she had placed Mr. May,) and other assign-
ations in other names, and so the less taken notice
of, though in great proportions : all which yet
amounted to little more than to pay her debts,
which she had in few years contracted to an un-
imaginable greatness, and to defray her constant
expenses, which were very excessive in coaches and
horses, clothes and jewels, without any thing of ge-
nerosity, or gratifying any of her family, or so much
as paying any of her father's debts, whereof some
were very clamorous. Her name was not used in
any suits for the grant of lands ; for tesides that
there was no avowing or public mention of natural
children, she did think the chancellor and treasurer
willing to obstruct such grants, and desired not to
have any occasion to try the kindness of either of
them : and so all the suits she made of that kind
were with reference to Ireland, where they had no
title to obstruct, nor natural opportunity to know,
what was granted; and in that kingdom she pro-
cured the grant of several great quantities of land,
like to prove of great benefit and value to her or
her children.
An attempt The chief design they now began to design, and

to raise if a- . i i i

lousies in the worst they could ever design, was to raise a
iiiib k roth "r. jealousy in the king of his brother, to which his
majesty was not in any degree inclined, and had in
truth a just affection for him and confidence in him,
without thinking better of his natural parts than he
thought there was cause for; and yet, which made



EDWARD EARL OF CLARENDON. 63

it the more wondered at, he did very often depart i CGG.
in matters of the highest moment from his own
judgment to comply with his brother, who was in-
structed, by those who too well knew the king's na-
ture, to adhere to any thing he once advised, and to
be importunate in any thing he proposed ; in which
he prevailed the more easily, because he never used
it in any thing that concerned himself or his own
benefit.

The truth is, it was the unhappy fate and consti- The temper

and disposi-

tution of that family, that they trusted naturally tion of the
the judgments of those, who were as much inferior m j l |y'
to them in understanding as they were in quality,
before their own, which was very good ; and suffered
even their natures, which disposed them to virtue
and justice, to be prevailed upon and altered and
corrupted by those, who knew how to make use of
some one infirmity that they discovered in them ;
and by complying with that, and cherishing and
serving it, they by degrees wrought upon the mass,
and sacrificed all the other good inclinations to that
single vice. They were too much inclined to like
men at first sight, and did not love the conversation
of men of many more years than themselves, and
thought age not only troublesome but impertinent.
They did not love to deny, and less to strangers than
to their friends ; not out of bounty or generosity,
which was a flower that did never grow naturally
in the heart of either of the families, that of Stuart
or the other of Bourbon, but out of an unskilfulness
and defect in the countenance : and when they pre-
vailed with themselves to make some pause rather
than c to deny, importunity removed all resolution,

c than] Omitted in MS.



64 CONTINUATION OF THE LIFE OF

1666. which they knew neither how to shut out nor to de-

~~fend themselves against, even when it was evident

enough that they had much rather not consent ;

which often made that which would have looked

like bounty lose all its grace and lustre.



Particularly jf t ne duke seemed to be more firm and fixed in

of the king

and duke, his resolutions, it was rather from an obstinacy in
his will, which he defended by aversion from the
debate, than from <l the constancy of his judgment,
which was more subject to persons than to argu-
ments, and so as changeable at least as the king's,
which was in greatest danger by surprise : and from
this want of steadiness and irresolution (whence-
soever the infirmity proceeded) most of the misfor-
tunes, which attended either of them or their ser-
vants who served them honestly, had their rise and
growth ; of which there will be shortly an occasion,
and too frequently, to say much more. In the
mean time it cannot be denied, and was observed
and confessed by all, that never any prince had a
more humble and dutiful condescension and submis-
sion to an elder brother, than the duke had towards
the king : his whole demeanour and behaviour was
so full of reverence, that it f might have given ex-
ample to be imitated by those, who ought but did
not observe a greater distance. And the conscience
and resentment he had within himself, for the sally
he had made in Flanders, made him after so wary in
his actions, and so abhorring to hear any thing that
might lessen his awe for the king, that no man who
had most credit with him & durst approach towards
any thing of that kind ; so that there was never less

' from] by ' it] Nnt in MS.

e their] its him] Omitted in MS.



EDWARD EARL OF CLARENDON. 05

ground of jealousy than of him. And (as was said
before) the king (who was in his nature so far from
any kind of jealousy, that he was too much inclined
to make interpretations of many words and actions,
which might reasonably harbour other apprehensions)
was as incapable of any infusions which might lessen
his confidence in his brother, as any noble and vir-
tuous mind could be. And therefore those ill men,
who began about this time to sow that cursed seed
that grew up to bear a large crop of the worst and
rankest jealousy in the succeeding time, did not
presume to make any reflection upon the duke him-
self, but upon his wife, " upon the state she assumed,
" and the height of the whole family, that lived in
" much more plenty," they said, " than the king's,
" and were more regarded abroad. "

Such kind of people are never without some par- Endeavours
ticular stories of the persons whom they desire to " e s s e g e n to the
deprave : and so they h had many instances, which ki ' lg ' s

* J esteem or

they used upon all occasions, of some levity or va- tliedlirliess
nity, of some words affected by the duchess, or some
outward carriage, true or false, which for the most
part concluded in mirth and laughter, and seemed
ridiculous ; which was the method they used in all
their approaches of that kind towards the highest
acts of malice, first to make the person, whom they
hoped to ruin in the end, less esteemed, by the act-
ing and presentation of his words and gestures and
motions ; which commonly is attended with laughter.
And this is the first breach they make upon any
man's reputation ; and the frequent custom of this
kind of laughter and mirth, which is easily pro-



! l they] Nat in MS.
VOL. III. F



C6 CONTINUATION OF THE LIFE OF

1666. duced without any malice, doth in the end open a
~~ space large enough to let in ' calumny and scandal
enough to weaken, if not to destroy, the l>est built
reputation.

This was the course they held with reference to
the duchess, whom the king had from the beginning
treated with great grace and favour, and considered
her as a woman of more than ordinary wit k and un-
derstanding : and the queen mother had from the
reconciliation used her with that abundant affection
and familiarity that was very wonderful; and the
heights she assumed, and all that greatness which
many thought too much, were } not only inculcated,
but enjoined by the queen as a duty due to her hus-
band, of whose high degree she thought she could
not be too tender and careful. And she had the
happiness so well to behave herself towards the
duke, that he was exceedingly pleased with her, and
lived towards her with an affection so remarkable
and notorious, that it grew to be the public discourse
and commendation ; and which made the liberties
that were taken elsewhere the more spoken of and
censured. It was very visible that he liked her
company and conversation very well, and was be-
lieved to communicate all his counsels, and all he
knew or thought, without reserve to her; which,
being so contrary to the professed doctrine of the
court, administered occasion to the men of mirth, in
those seasons which took up a good part of every
night, to be very pleasant upon the government of
the duchess, and the submission of the duke" 1 ; in
which there were always some witty reflections upon

' in] Omitted in MS. ' were] was

k ordinary wit] an ordinary wit m of the duke] Not in MS.



EDWARD EARL OF CLARENDON. 67

the chancellor. And this kind of liberty, being first 1666.
grateful to the king for the wit that accompanied it ~
and the mirth that it produced, grew by the custom
of it the more acceptable ; and it may be the general
and public observation of the disparity in the lives
of the two brothers made it wished, that there were
no more of that strictness in the one place than in
the other, towards which there wanted not applica-
tion and advice accordingly as well as example.

In the mean time the chancellor had a hard part
to act, being neither able to do the good he con-
stantly endeavoured on one side, nor remove the ill
he disliked on the other side ; for he saw well the
mischief that would inevitably follow the great ex-
penses of the duke, which exceeded all limits, and
could never be provided for; and thought the du-
chess to be blamed for what she spent upon 'herself,
and used all the credit he had with both to begin in
time to reform what necessity would shortly do with
more dishonour: but the disease had grown from
the first ill digestion.

The lord Berkley had upon the king's first arrival
formed a family without rule or precedent, and
made the servants in a much better condition than
the master, by assigning liberal pensions and allow-
ances to them, who had paid him dear for their
places, without considering from what fund they
should arise : and now they all would have the duke
believe, " that he spent not too much ; but that he
" had too little provision assigned to him for his qua-
" lity and relation, and that n this proceeded from the

11 that] Not in MS.
F 2



68 CONTINUATION OF THE LIFE OF

1666. " neglect in the chancellor, who was able, if he en-
" " deavoured it, to persuade the king to enlarge it to
" a just proportion. " And this was as much urged to
the duchess as to the duke, and it made in her a
greater impression ; and though she had in all other
respects a very entire affection and even a duty and
resignation to her father, yet in this he had no au-
thority with her, nor did she think him a competent
judge what expenses princes should make : and hav-
ing seen the state and lustre in which the duke of
Anjou lived in France, and having received many
infusions from the queen, of the great defect in the
customs of England, in providing either for the re-
spect or for the support of the younger sons of the
crown, she thought that the chancellor should ra-
ther use his credit for the enlarging that narrow-
ness, which the king was enough disposed to, than
to reform their expenses. But of this enough.

The plague had really swept away and destroyed
so many seamen, (Stepney and the places adjacent,
which were their common habitations, being almost
depopulated,) that now, all other obstructions being
removed, there seemed even an impossibility to pro-
cure sailors and mariners enough to set out the fleet;
insomuch as they found it necessary to press many
watermen, and to disfurnish all merchant ships
which were prepared to be set out to the planta-
tions or to other places of trade : all which turned
not so much to benefit one way, as it did to loss an-
other way. But the best way to expedite all things
was the two admirals going to the fleet themselves,



EDWARD EARL OF CLARENDON. 69

that they who resolved to go might hasten thither, 1666.
and that they who had no mind to go might, out of ~
shame, likewise accompany them.

There appeared great unanimity and consent be-
tween them. Only prince Rupert had a great de-
sire to go in a ship apart, and that they might not
be both in one P ship : but upon debate it appeared
to be un practicable, and that in a time of action the
orders could not be the same, if they who gave
them were not together and in the same place ; and
so the prince was persuaded not to be positive in
that particular. And so they both went together, The fleet
and took leave of the king towards the end of April, under
and laboured so effectually, (as they were both men peruLdtiie
of great dexterity and indefatigable industry in such geueralt
conjunctures,) that they carried the fleet out to sea,
well fitted and provided, by the middle of May ;
with which they presently visited the coast of Hol-
land, and took many prizes ; and, by the intelli-
gence they met with, concluded that the Dutch fleet
would not be ready in c, month, of which they
gave the king advertisement, and returned into the
Downs. And prince Rupert at the same time ex- Tlie occa -

sion of the

pressed an inclination to go himself with part of the division of
fleet to meet the duke of Beaufort, who was re-
ported to be under sail to join with the Dutch, and
" that they would not put to sea till they foresaw
" that they were like to join about Calais. "

At or near the same time the lord Arlington re-
ceived intelligence, " that the Dutch were not yet
" well manned ; and that the ships which were in

i' one] Omitted in MS.
Y 3



70 CONTINUATION OF THE LIFE OF

I (>Gti. " the Texel, and were to join with the other under
~ " De Ruyter in the Wierings, were more unpro-
" vided :" though at the same time secretary Mor-
rice (who had always better intelligence from Hol-
land) was assured from thence, " that all the ships
" in both places were so ready that they would join
" within very few days. " But the lord Arlington,
who thought he ought to be more believed, received
as positive 1 advertisement from France, " that the
" duke of Beaufort set sail from Brest on such a
" day :" and though the wind had not been yet di-
rectly favourable for him, it was concluded that he
must be well advanced in his way, and he had no
port to friend till he came to the coast of France
near Calais.

Upon this there seemed a great desire that prince
Rupert might take the course he had proposed ; for
the convenience was agreed to be very great, if the
French could be met with before the conjunction.
However, the council was so wary that at that time
attended the king at Worcester-house, the chancel-
lor being affected with the gout, that they advised
the king " not to send positive orders for the divid-
" ing the fleet, which by many accidents might
*' produce inconveniences ; but rather to send two
" of the council to the fleet, with an account of
" all the intelligence, and the reflections which oc-
" curred to the king upon it. " And hereupon sir
George Carteret and sir William Coventry were
presently sent, and carried such orders with them,
as would be necessary if the generals had not other
intelligence, or did think that the division was not
liable to more objections than had been in view.



EDWARD EARL OF CLARENDON. 71

And this caution I set down more particularly, be- 1666.
cause the council underwent reproaches which it did~
not deserve.

The two counsellors used such expedition, and
found so good conveniences by land and water, that
they returned to the king the next day with an ac-
count, " that the state of the Dutch fleet was con-
" firmed to be the same that his majesty had heard,
" and that they believed the other concerning the
" duke of Beaufort to be very probable ; where-
" upon they had concluded with a mutual consent
" and approbation, that prince Rupert should take
" twenty of the ships, which he had already chosen,
" to meet the French, though they were superior in
" number, whilst the general remained in the Downs
" with the rest : and in order to this, that the prince
" went aboard his ship before they came away, and
" the rather, because the wind was so much against
" him, that his majesty's orders, if he found cause
" to send any, would be sure for some days to find
" him upon the western coast ; and the wind that
" was against him was so favourable to the duke of
" Beaufort, that it was probable they might speedily
" meet, and in a place to be wished. " The king
saw no cause yet to send orders to the contrary;
and this was the reason, and all the circumstances,
of the separation of the fleet, that proved unfortu-
nate.

It appeared very soon after, which secretary had
the better intelligence : for the very next day after
the departure of the prince, the general, who re-
mained in the Downs, had certain intelligence that
the Dutch were come out of their harbours, having
it seems received intelligence likewise of the French

F 4



72 CONTINUATION OF THE LIFE OF

l (5G6. fleet's being at sea, and lieing obliged to meet
"" them, and had been long ready to do so ; which had
deceived the court, they believing that they stayed
because they were not ready to come out ; whereas
they were ready, and expected only the other adver-
tisement.

As soon as the general was informed, he sent no-
tice presently to the duke late in the same evening,
who, informing the king of it, gave orders to sir
William Coventry to prepare orders to prince Ru-
pert immediately to return ; and if those orders had
been carefully despatched, they might have come to
A neglect the prince before the morning. But sir William

in forward-

ing an or- Coventry thought he had done his part when he got
prince RU- the order signed, which was about twelve of the
join the" clock at night, and then sent them by his servant to
fleet. th e i or( i Arlington, whose part he thought it was to
charge a messenger with them : but he was gone to
bed, and his servants durst not disquiet him, a ten-
derness not accustomed to be in the family of a se-
cretary. But whether they did not wake him, as
he pretended, or being awake he deferred it, it was
not sent away till the next day, and never came to
prince Rupert's hand till he had turned his sails
upon the thunder of the cannon ; and he no sooner
endeavoured to return, but the wind chopped about
to retard him, that' he could make little way that
day or the night following. Whose fault it was
that these important orders were not sent with more
expedition, whether sir William Coventry ought not
to have taken care for the conveying them, at least
to have given the lord Arlington notice what the
contents of them were, of which he denied to have
any notice, was disputed with some warmth between



EDWARD EARL OF CLARENDON. 73

themselves, and so came to be published : but it was
never examined any where else, though the negli-~
gence was very mischievous in its effect ; but they
were both too great men to be questioned in any ju-
dicatory.

The general, after the notice he had received of
the motion of the Dutch, ordered the fleet to weigh
anchor about three of the clock in the morning upon
the first of June 1666, to sail to the Buoy of the The Dutch
Gunfleet to join with some other ships which lay 01 1t.
there, to get more men, being then but ill manned :
and about seven of the clock in the morning the
scouts came in, and brought the general notice, that
the Dutch fleet was to the leeward, and probably in-
tended to decline fighting till they might join with
the French. And it had been to be wished that the
English had stood off too, upon confidence that
prince Rupert, whom the wind had kept from being
far off, as they could not but know, would receive
direction from court to return. But the general
(who was as impatient upon the sight of an enemy
to engage with him as prince Rupert himself, and
had a natural contempt of the Dutch) called his
flag-officers to council, and quickly resolved, "that
" it was not convenient nor safe nor honourable to
" decline the battle, lest it might take off the pre-
" sent courage of the seamen. " And truly in all
those consultations, upon the like occasions, who-
ever proposed any wary advice ran great hazard of
being reputed a coward. And so they bore up with
a full wind upon the enemy, notwithstanding the vi-
sible disadvantage they were in, in respect of the
strength of the enemy, for in the absence of prince
Rupert there remained little above fifty sail with



74 CONTINUATION OF THE LIFE OF

I66f>. the general; whereas De Ruyter's fleet consisted of
~~ above fourscore sail, who easily perceived his advan-
tage, and that a great part of the English fleet was
absent, and so willingly embraced the occasion,
and made what sail he could to meet with them.
The etond It was about two of the clock in the afternoon
gagcment" when the engagement l)egan ; and the English had
got the wind, which was so high that they could not
The first carry out their lower tiers. The admiral was so

day's ac- . . . .

lion. shattered in his rigging and masts, that he was com-
pelled to get off and anchor, that he might mend
what was amiss; and many of his squadron had
their main-yards shot off, and received such damage
in their tackling, which was the chief aim of the
Dutch, that they could hardly govern their ships.
And by this means the enemy got the wind ; and
the battle continued with great fierceness, and loss
of many men on both sides, till nine or ten of the
clock at night, when all were willing to have some
rest.

The second That night was spent in repairing masts and rig-

tion. ging : and at six of the clock in the morning the
battle began again with the same firceness, and
lasted till night. And that day the Dutch suffered
much, and one of their vice-admirals was l>oarded
and afterwards sunk, as many of their other ships

The Dutch likewise were; so that they began to fall of: when

reinforced. . . . , . . , , . ,

sixteen new great ships came to their aid, which
gave them new courage ; so that they renewed and
maintained the fight with great resolution, and
killed many men of the English, and disabled many
of the ships, till the night again parted them.
The EHK- Upon the account the general received that night,

lish retire. i i-v i i

and the new access ot force to the Dutch, he



EDWARD EARL OF CLARENDON. 75

thought it necessary to retire ; for though he had
lost no ship, very many were so disabled, that there ~
was reason to fear they would hardly hold out to re-
cover the shore. And thereupon he caused all
those ships to be put before and make all the sail
they could, and himself with sixteen ships in a
breadth went in the rear : which as soon as the
enemy perceived, they pursued, but came not within
reach of their guns till four of the clock in the after-
noon ; and then, though they shot hard, they did Tll <= third

day's ac-

very little harm, the sternpieces of the English over- tion.
reaching their broadsides, which made many of them
get off as quickly as they could. But by this time
the English descried about twenty sail of ships
standing towards them, which they concluded to be
prince Rupert, (as it proved :) and so being earnest
to join, they edged up towards them, but so unfortu-
nately, that many of the flag ships were on ground
off the Galloper-sand. But with much ado they all
got off safe, the Royal Prince only excepted, which
for this last age, and till the late war, was held the
best ship in the world. This brave ship stuck so
fast, that no art or industry could move her ; so
that the enemy, when they found they could not
carry her off, set her on fire, and took the captain,
sir George Ayscue, and all the company prisoners,
and without distinction used all with great barbarity,
in which they pretended only to use retaliation.
That night prince Rupert joined: and then they Prince KU
bore to the northward, that they might get clear of Up Juh'his
the sands ; and thereby the enemy got the wind M|Ud(
again.

The fourth day of the battle, which was the The fourth
fourth of June, the enemy being to windward about'' 1



76 CONTINUATION OF THE LIFE OF

1666. three leagues, the generals in the morning made all
~~ sail towards them : and they lay with their sails to
the masts to stay for them, which they would not
have had the courage to have done, if they had not
had intelligence from the prisoners of the Prince, in
how tattered a condition the fleet was. The battle
began about eight of the clock in the morning with
extraordinary confidence on both sides, the Dutch
continuing their old guard, to spend all their shot
upon the rigging and masts, and to defend them-
selves from being boarded, which the English most
intended and laboured to do. But the design of the
others succeeded better : insomuch that one of
the vice-admirals of a squadron, and other of the
best ships, were so disabled that they bore off from
the battle, that they might mend and repair;
which gave no small encouragement to the enemy.
But the two generals were invincible, and continued
the battle all the day in several forms, and by the
advantage of the wind fired six or seven of their
ships, and sunk others, and had two or three of their
own likewise sunk. And between six and seven at
night, as. if by consent, (and no doubt both sides
were very weary of the encounter,) they separated
without looking after each other, and hastened to
their several coasts ; many of the English being so
hurt in yards, masts, rigging, and hulls, many of
them wanting men to ply their guns, and their pow-
der and shot near spent, that with very much diffi-
Both >ide> culty they got into harbour : and so concluded that
great action, wherein either side pretended to have
advantage, and both lost very much.

The next day after the battle was spent in fitting
their masts and repairing their rigging, that they



EDWARD EARL OF CLARENDON. 77

might be able to reach the coast: and when they
came near it, the generals called a council about dis-
posing those ships which could not remain at sea,
and sent them to such several places as they might
be soonest repaired in ; and gave every captain
very strict order, " that all possible diligence and
" expedition should be used to get their ships ready,
" and furnished with whatsoever was wanting ;" and
the commissioners of the navy were required to be
assistant in all places. And so wonderful diligence
was used, (which appears almost incredible,) that
the whole fleet was so well fitted, that by the seven-
teenth day of the same month, within a fortnight
after so terrible a battle, it was gathered together to
a rendezvous to the Buoy of the Nore. The enemy
made as much haste, rather to meet with the French,
who were every day still expected, than to fight
with the English, and kept as near to their own
coast as conveniently they could : so that how ready
soever the generals were (who had never left their
ships) with the fleet by the seventeenth of the
month, the winds were so averse or so calm, that it
was the four and twentieth day of that month be-
fore they could reach the sight of the enemy.

And the next day, which was the twenty-fifth, The third

. genera) en

the English made all the sail they could, and by ten gagement.
in the morning engaged in as hot an encounter as
had hitherto been in any engagement : and though
the Dutch seemed not to fight with the same spirit
and mettle, yet the battle held till two in the after-
noon, when by the advantage of the wind they
bore away faster than the English could follow.
However, here they took vice-admiral Banchart, The *? ". ? -
and his ship of threescore guns and three hundred torious.



78 CONTINUATION OF THE LIFE OF

men was birrned ; and another ship of seventy guns
and three hundred men was likewise taken and
burned ; which the generals thought better, than to
undergo the possible inconvenience of keeping them:
and so they kept up as close to the enemy in the
night as they could do.
The next morning they
used all their sails, and designed to board De Ruy-
ter ; which, the wind lessening, they could not effect,
he fighting very well, but running faster: and so,
though very well pursued, he got into his fastness
at the Wierings, with those who were nearest to
him. But the rest who were further off, and were
like to have the benefit of the night, tacked about :
which they who attacked De Ruyter perceiving,
and that they could follow him no further, and that
the rest were five and forty sail, they followed them,
the generals doing all they could with their squad-
ron to put themselves between them and the coast ;
but the wind growing on a sudden calm, about mid-
night they dropped their anchors, that they might
not be driven further than they had a mind to be.
But in the morning, when they weighed anchor to
pursue them, and made all the way they could with
a little wind, the enemy got so close to their own
shore, their ships drawing less water than the Eng-
lish, that there could be no further pursuit.

Another part of the fleet, which was separated
when De Ruyter got into the Wierings, and which
the generals looked upon as their own, was so
unhappily pursued, though by men of very good
name, that they escaped ; which raised a great dis-
temper in the fleet, whilst some officers of the prime
and most unquestionable courage charged and ac-
cused others, who had always given great testimony



EDWARD EARL OF CLARENDON. 79

that they durst do any thing, " of base declining to I c>66.
" fight when the enemy was in their power, and~
" that they chose rather to suffer them to escape
" than to encounter them. " And this dispute and
expostulation, between men who had many seconds,
divided the generals, one declaring himself on the
one side as the other did on the other <*; but they
wisely laid aside the debate, till they should be at
more leisure with less inconvenience to determine it.
The generals thereupon, having thus scattered
the enemy, resolved to ply upon the Dutch coast to
take all ships of trade, which they did ; and off the
Texel and the Flie took many prizes 1 ', both home-
ward and outward bound, of great value. And they The at-

i ii T MI i tempt upon

having now nothing to do but to lie still, there



a Dutch captain, one Laurence Van Humskerke, Sc
who after the first battle, in the faction between
Evertson and Van Trump, had given De Wit so
great an advantage, that if he had not made his
escape, he had been hanged, who from that time
had always been on board with prince Rupert : this
man, whilst the fleet lay in this posture, advised
prince Rupert to attempt a place near the Flie,
which was so locked in the land that it was always
looked upon as very secure, (and where all ships
laden at Amsterdam for the Straits and those parts,
when they were outward bound, used to lie two or
three days, as in a safe port, until all things which
might be forgotten were prepared s , and all the com-
pany came together,) and had never been invaded in
any war ; and by it was a pretty large village, called
Schelling, which had many good houses in it, besides

i as the other did on the other] r prizes] rich prizes
and the other s were prepared] Not in MS.



80 CONTINUATION OF THE LIFE OF
IGC6. others inhabited by, and for the entertainment of,



seamen.

This enterprise was committed to sir Rolxrt
Holmes, a very bold and expert man ; who, with a
number of small vessels very well manned, besides a
body of stout foot to land upon occasions, l>eing as-
Tbe chief sisted by the Dutchman, so vigorously assaulted it,
fthat he burned all the Dutch ships lying there, being
. f inestimable value, all outward bound, and some
of them worth above one hundred thousand pounds
each ship. They burned likewise the whole town
of Schelling ; which conflagration, with that of the
ships, appearing at the break of day so near Am-
sterdam, put that place into that consternation that
they thought the day of judgment was come, not
thinking of their ships there, as being out of the
power or reach of any enemy : and no doubt it was
the greatest loss that state sustained in the whole
war, that is, greater than all the rest. And as this
victory, if it can be called a victory when there is
no resistance, occasioned great triumph in England,
so it raised great thoughts of heart in De Wit, and
a resolution of revenge before any peace should be
consented to ; which they effected to a good degree
the next year.

There appeared no more likelihood of the Dutch
coming out again : so about the fifteenth of August
the generals returned to Southwould Bay, to receive
a recruit of men, provisions, and ammunition, having
left ships enough upon the coast of Holland to take
prizes, and scouts upon the coast to get intelligence
in what readiness the enemy's fleet was, and what
was done within the land. And about the twenty-
seventh a little pink, that waited upon the coast of



EDWARD EARL OF CLARENDON. 81

Zealand, brought notice that the enemy, consisting J66G.
of about fourscore sail of 'ships, were ready to come The Dutch
out from the Wierings ; and the next day they were rteet P utsto

sea ii^uiii.

assured that they were come out and bound west-
ward, by which they concluded that they had hope
to join the French fleet. Whereupon the generals
gave present orders to unmoor the fleet ; and weigh-
ing anchor about seven of the clock in the morning
stood to sea, and about noon discovered the Dutch
fleet about four leagues to the leeward. The gene-
rals made all sail towards them : but the enemy
stood away for the coast of Flanders, whilst the
English were so entangled upon the Galloper-sands,
that they could not stand after the enemy till late
in the afternoon ; so that it was night before they
came near each other, and then several guns were
fired to little purpose.

The next morning, being the first of September,
the season when the winds begin to grow boisterous,
they had, upon the breaking of the day, lost the
sight of the enemy, though they c believed that they
had bore up in the night for them : but when it was
light, they found that they were to the leeward, as
far as they could discover, near St. John's Bay be-
yond Calais. The English pursued them, and mak-
ing some stay for the fireships, which could not
make haste by reason of the blustering weather, it
was four in the afternoon before the fleet came up
together to them ; when De Ruyter made a show
as if he would draw off from the shore towards
them. But when he saw the English stand with
him and advance with their usual resolution, he

1 though they] and
VOL. III. Ci



82 CONTINUATION OF THE LIFE OF

1666. tacked back again, and stood close in to the shore,
where the rest of the fleet was, in the Bay of Staples.
TheEogiuii And then the night came, and the wind blew so
pmedbya violently, that the English were forced to tack, and
many of the ships were forced to the leeward, the
night being so foul, that neither the generals nor
the chief flags could be discerned. And though the
storm continued very violent the next day, a good
part of the fleet got again together, and stood to the
Bay of Staples, where the Dutch still remained close
under the shore at anchor, but could not be invited
to come out. So the English found it necessary to
stand further out to the sea ; and then they disco-
vered the rest of the fleet at a great distance to the
leeward, and so bore after them, and at night they
all arrived at St. Helen's Point. And though the
tempest still increased, a squadron went every day
out to the coast of France.
The French In this tempest the French fleet had a very nar-

fleet has a

narrow row escape, by a providence they are seldom with-
out. A gentleman of good quality of that nation
returned at this time out of England, (whither they
repaired with as much liberty and were as kindly
treated as if there were no war, whilst no English-
man could be safe there ;) and landing at Calais, and
finding that the duke of Beaufort was every day
expected, he despatched two or three barks to find
him, with information how and where the English
lay ; one of which came so luckily to him towards
the evening, that he changed his course, and by the
darkness of the night got into the road of Dieppe,
where he dropped his anchors. But his vice-ad-
miral, being the biggest and the best ship but one
in the fleet, and carrying seventy pieces of cannon,



EDWARD EARL OF CLARENDON. 83

pursuing the course he was directed, in the dark of 1G6G.
the night fell amongst the English, as the rest had
done if it had not been for that advertisement ; and
after a little defending himself, which he saw was
to no purpose, was taken prisoner, and desired to
be brought to prince Rupert, who knew him well,
and treated him as a gallant person ought to be,
and caused many things which belonged to his own
person to be restored to him ; and when he was
brought into England, he found another kind of re-
ception (though he was prisoner in the Tower) than
any of the English, though of the same quality, met
with abroad. By this accident the French fleet
made a happy escape" : and the continuance of the
storm for many days kept the English and the
Dutch from any further engagement. But the
same winds, and at the same time, did much more
mischief at land than at sea.

It was upon the first day of that September, in the The 6re of
dismal year of 1666, (in which many prodigies were
expected, and so many really fell out,) that that
memorable and terrible fire brake out in London,
which begun about midnight, or nearer the morning
of Sunday, in a baker's house at the end of Thames-
street next the Tower, there being many little nar-
row alleys and very poor houses about the place
where it first appeared ; and then finding such store
of combustible materials, as that street is always
furnished with in timber-houses, the fire prevailed
so powerfully, that that whole street and the neigh-
bourhood was in so short a time turned to ashes,
that few persons had time to save and preserve any

u escape] Erroneously in MS. estate

G 2



84 CONTINUATION OF THE LIFE OF

1 666. of their goods ; but were a heap of people almost as
~ dead with the sudden distraction, as the ruins were
which they sustained. The magistrates of the city
assembled quickly together, and with the usual re-
medies of buckets, which they were provided with :
but the fire was too ravenous to be extinguished
with such quantities of water as those instruments
could apply to it, and fastened still upon new mate-
rials before it had destroyed the old. And though
it raged furiously all that day, to that degree that
all men stood amazed, as spectators only, no man
knowing what remedy to apply, nor the magistrates
what orders to give ; yet it kept within some com-
pass, burned what was next, and laid hold only on
both sides ; and the greatest apprehension was of
the Tower, and all considerations entered upon how
to secure that place.

But in the night the wind changed, and carried
the danger from thence, but with so great and irre-
sistible violence, that as it kept the English and
Dutch fleets from grappling when they were so near
each other, so it scattered the fire from pursuing
the line it was in with all its force, and spread it
over the city : so that they, who went late to bed
at a great distance from any place where the fire
prevailed, were awakened before morning with
their own houses being in a flame ; and whilst en-
deavour was used to quench that, other houses were
discovered to be burning, which were near no place
from whence they could imagine the fire could
come ; all which kindled another fire in the breasts
of men, almost as dangerous as that within their
houses.

Monday morning produced first a jealousy, and



EDWARD EARL OF CLARENDON. 85

then an universal conclusion, that this fire came not 1666.
by chance, nor did they care where it began ; but ~
the breaking out in several places at so great dis-
tance from each other made it evident, that it was
by conspiracy and combination. And this determi-
nation could not hold long without discovery of the
wicked authors, who were concluded to be all the
Dutch and all the French in the town, though they
had inhabited the same places above twenty years.
All of that kind, or, if they were strangers, of what
nation soever, were laid hold of; and after all the ill
usage that can consist in words, and some blows and
kicks, they were thrown into prison. And shortly
after, the same conclusion comprehended all the Ro-
man catholics x , who were in the same predicament
of guilt and danger, and quickly found that their
only safety consisted in keeping within doors ; and
yet some of them, and of quality, were taken by
force out of their houses, and carried to prison.

When this rage spread as far as the fire, and
every hour brought reports of some bloody effects of
it, worse than in truth there were, the king distri-
buted many of the privy-council into several quarters
of the city, to prevent, by their authorities, those in-
humanities which he heard were committed. In
the mean time, even they or any other person
thought it not >" safe to declare, " that they believed
" that the fire came by accident, or that it was not a
* c plot of the Dutch and the French and papists to
" burn the city ;" which was so generally believed,
and in the best company, that he who said the con-



v the Roman catholics] the > not] Omitted in MS.
Roman catholics, the papists

G 3



86 CONTINUATION OF THE LIFE OF

1666. trary was suspected for a conspirator, or at best a

favourer of them. It could not be conceived, how

a house that was distant a mile from any part of the
fire could suddenly be in a flame, without some par-
ticular malice ; and this case fell out every hour.
When a man at the furthest end of Bread-street
had made a shift to get out of his house his best and
most portable goods, because the fire had approached
near them ; he no sooner had secured them, as he
thought, in some friend's house in Holborn, which
was believed a safe distance, but he saw that very
house, and none else near it, in a sudden flame.
Nor did there want, in this woful distemper, the
testimony of witnesses who saw this villany com-
mitted, and apprehended men who they were ready
to swear threw fireballs into houses, which were
presently burning.

The lord Hollis and lord Ashley, who had their
quarters assigned about Newgate-market and the
streets adjacent, had many brought to them in cus-
tody for crimes of this nature; and saw, within a
very little distance from the place where they were,
the people gathered together in great disorder ; and
as they came nearer saw a man in the middle of
them without a hat or cloak, pulled and hauled and
very ill used, whom they knew to be a servant to
the Portugal ambassador, who was presently brought
to them. And a substantial citizen was ready to
take his oath, "that he saw that man put his hand
" in his pocket, and throw into a shop a fireball ;
" upon which he saw the house immediately on fire :
" whereupon, being on the other side of the way,
" and seeing this, he cried out to the people to stop
" that gentleman, and made all the haste he could



EDWARD EARL OF CLARENDON. 87

" himself;" but the people had first seized upon 1666.
him, and taken away his sword, which he was ready"
to draw ; and he not speaking nor understanding
English, they had used him in the manner set down
before. The lord Hollis told him what he was ac-
cused of, and " that he was seen to have thrown
" somewhat out of his pocket, which they thought
" to be a fireball, into a house which was now on
" fire :" and the people had diligently searched
his pockets to find more of the same commodities,
but found nothing that they meant to accuse him
of. The man standing in great amazement to hear
he was so charged, the lord Hollis asked him,
" what it was that he pulled out of his pocket, and
" what it was he threw into the house:" to which he
answered, "that he did not think that he had put his
" hand into his pocket ; but he remembered very
" well, that as he walked in the street, he saw a
" piece of bread upon the ground, which he took up,
" and laid upon a shelf in the next house;" which is
a custom or superstition so natural to the Portu-
guese, that if the king of Portugal were walking,
and saw a piece of bread upon the ground, he would
take it up with his own hand, and keep it till he
saw a fit place to lay it down.

The house being in view, the lords with many of
the people walked to it, and found the piece of
bread just within the door upon a board, where he
said he laid it ; and the house on fire was two doors
beyond it, which the man who was on the other
side of the way, and saw this man put his hand into
the house without staying, arid presently after the
fire break out, concluded to be the same house ;
which was very natural in the fright that all men

G 4



88 CONTINUATION OF THE LIFE OF

1666. were in : nor did the lords, though they were satis-
~~ fied, set the poor man at liberty ; but, as if there
remained ground enough of suspicion, committed
him to the constable, to be kept by him in his own
house for some hours, when they pretended they
would examine him again. Nor were any persons
who were seized upon in the same manner, as mul-
titudes were in all the parts of the town, especially
if they were strangers or papists, presently dis-
charged, when there was no reasonable ground to
suspect ; but all sent to prison, where they were in
much more security than they could have been in
full liberty, after they were once known to have
been suspected ; and most of them understood their
commitment to be upon that ground, and were glad
of it.

The fire and the wind continued in the same ex-
cess all Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday till after-
noon, and flung and scattered brands burning into
all quarters ; the nights more terrible than the days,
and the light the same, the light of the fire sup-
plying that of the sun. And indeed whoever was
an eyewitness of that terrible prospect, can never
have so lively an image of the last conflagration till
he beholds it ; the faces of all people in a wonderful
dejection and discomposure, not knowing where
they could repose themselves for one hour's sleep,
and no distance thought secure from the fire, which
suddenly started up before it was suspected ; so that
people left their houses and carried away their goods
from many places which received no hurt, and whi-
ther they afterwards returned again ; all the fields
full of women and children, who had made a shift
to bring thither some goods and conveniences to rest



EDWARD EARL OF CLARENDON. 89

upon, as safer than any houses, where yet they felt 1666.
such intolerable heat and drought, as if they had~~
been in the middle of the fire. The king and the
duke, who rode from one place to another, and put
themselves into great dangers amongst the burning
and falling houses, to give advice and direction what
was to be done, underwent as much fatigue as the
meanest, and had as little sleep or rest ; and the
faces of all men appeared ghastly and in the highest
confusion. The country sent in carts to help those
miserable people who had saved any goods : and by
this means, and the help of coaches, all the neigh-
bour villages were filled with more people than they
could contain, and more goods than they could find
room for ; so that those fields became likewise as full
as the other about London and Westminster.

It was observed that where the fire prevailed
most, when it met with brick buildings, if it was not
repulsed, it was so well resisted that it made a much
slower progress ; and when it had done its worst,
that the timber and all the combustible matter fell,
it fell down to the bottom within the house, and the
walls stood and enclosed the fire, and it was burned
out without making a further progress in many of
those places ; and then the vacancy so interrupted
the fury of it, that many times the two or three
next houses stood without much damage. Besides
the spreading, insomuch as all London seemed but
one fire in the breadth of it, it seemed to continue
in its full fury a direct line to the Thames side,
all Cheapside from beyond the Exchange, through
Fleet-street ; insomuch as for that breadth, taking
in both sides as tar as the Thames, there was scarce
a house or church standing 1 from the bridge to Uor-



90 CONTINUATION OF THE LIFE OF

1666. set-house, which was burned on Tuesday night after
~ Baynard's-castle.

On Wednesday morning, when the king saw that
neither the fire decreased nor the wind lessened, he
even despaired of preserving Whitehall, but was
more afraid of Westminster-abl^ey. But having
observed by his having visited all places, that where
there were any vacant places between the houses,
by which the progress of the fire was interrupted, it
changed its course and went to the other side ; he
gave order for pulling down many houses about
Whitehall, some whereof were newly built and
hardly finished, and sent many of his choice goods
by water to Hampton-Court ; as most of the persons
of quality in the Strand, who had the benefit of the
river, got barges and other vessels, and sent their
furniture for their houses to some houses some miles
out of the town. And very many on both sides the
Strand, who knew not whither to go, and scarce
what they did, fled with their families out of their
houses into the streets, that they might not be with-
in when the fire fell upon their houses.
The fire But it pleased God, contrary to all expectation,
that on Wednesday, about four or five of the clock
in the afternoon, the wind fell : and as in an instant
the fire decreased, having burned all on the Thames
side to the new buildings of the Inner Temple next
to White-friars, and having consumed them, was
stopped by that vacancy from proceeding further
into that house ; but laid hold on some old buildings
which joined to Ram-alley, and swept all those into
Fleet-street. And the other side being likewise de-
stroyed to Fetter-lane, it advanced no further ; but
left the other part of Fleet-street to the Temple-bar,



EDWARD EARL OF CLARENDON. 91

and all the Strand, unhurt, but what damage the 1666.
owners of the houses had done to themselves by en-~
deavouring to remove ; and it ceased in all other
parts of the town near the same time : so that the
greatest care then was, to keep good guards to watch
the fire that was upon the ground, that it might not
break out again. And this was the better perform-
ed, because they who had yet their houses standing
had not the courage to sleep, but watched with
much less distraction ; though the same distemper
still remained in the utmost extent, '* that all this
" had fallen out by the conspiracy of the French and
" Dutch with the papists ;" and all gaols were filled
with those who were every hour apprehended upon
that jealousy ; or rather upon some evidence that
they were guilty of the crime. And the people were
so sottish, that they believed that all the French in
the town (which no doubt were a very great num-
ber) were drawn into a body, to prosecute those by
the sword who were preserved from the fire : and
the inhabitants of a whole street have ran in a great
tumult one way, upon the rumour that the French
were marching at the other end of it ; so terrified
men were with their own apprehensions.

When the night, though far from being a quiet
one, had somewhat lessened the consternation, the
first care the king took was, that the country might
speedily supply markets in all places, that they who
had saved themselves from burning might not be in
danger of starving ; and if there had not been extra-
ordinary care and diligence used, many would have
perished that way. The vast destruction of corn,
and all other sorts of provisions, in those parts where
the fire had prevailed, had not only left all that



<J2 CONTINUATION OF THE LIFE OF

1 666. people destitute of all that was to be eat or drank ;
but the bakers and brewers, which inhabited the
other parts which were unhurt, had forsaken their
houses, and carried away all that was portable : in-
somuch as many days passed, before they were
enough in their wits and in their houses to fall to
their occupations; and those parts of the town
which God had spared and preserved were many
hours without any thing to eat, as well as they who
were in the fields. And yet it can hardly be con-
ceived, how great a supply of all kinds was brought
from all places within four and twenty hours. And
which was more miraculous, in four days, in all the
fields about the town, which had seemed covered
with those whose habitations were burned, and with
the goods which they had saved, there was scarce a
man to be seen : all found shelter in so short a time,
either in those parts which remained of the city and
in the suburbs, or in the neighbour villages ; all kind
of people expressing a marvellous charity towards
those who appeared to be undone. And very many,
with more expedition than can be conceived, set up
little sheds of brick and timber upon the ruins of
their own houses, where they chose rather to inhabit
than in more convenient places, though they knew
they could not long reside in those new buildings.

The king was not more troubled at any parti-
cular, than at the imagination which possessed the
hearts of so many, that all this mischief had fallen
out by a real and formed conspiracy ; which, all*eit
he saw no colour to believe, he found very many in-
telligent men, and even some of his own council,
who did really tolieve it. Whereupon he appointed
the privy-council to sit both morning and evening,



EDWARD EARL OF CLARENDON. 93

to examine all evidence of that kind that should be i C66.
brought before them, and to send for any persons ~~
who had been committed to prison upon some evi-
dence that made the greatest noise ; and sent for the
lord chief justice, who was in the country, to come
to the town for the better examination of all sug-
gestions and allegations of that kind, there having
been some malicious report scattered about the town,
" that the court had so great a prejudice against
" any kind of testimony of such a conspiracy, that
" they discountenanced all witnesses who came be-
" fore them to testify what they knew ;" which was
without any colour of truth. Yet many, who were
produced as if their testimony would remove all
doubts, made such senseless relations of what they
had been told, without knowing the condition of the
persons who told them, or where to find them, that it
was a hard matter to forbear smiling at their evi-
dence. Some Frenchmen's houses had been searched,
in which had been found many of those shells for
squibs and other fireworks, frequently used in nights
of joy and triumph ; and the men were well known,
and had lived many years there by that trade, and
had no other : and one of these was the king's ser-
vant, and employed by the office of ordnance for
making grenades of all kinds, as well for the hand
as for mortarpieces. Yet these men were looked
upon as in the number of the conspirators, and re-
mained still in prison till their neighbours solicited
for their liberty. And it cannot be enough won-
dered at, that in this general rage of the people no
mischief was done to the strangers, that no one of
them was assassinated outright, though many were
sorely beaten and bruised.



94 CONTINUATION OF THE LIFE OF
1666. There was a very odd accident that confirmed



Hubert-! many in what they were inclined to believe, and
startled others, who thought the conspiracy impos-
sible, since no combination not very discernible and
discovered could have effected that mischief, in which
the immediate hand of God was so visible. Amongst
many Frenchmen who had been sent to Newgate,
there was one Hubert, a young man of five or six
and twenty years of age, the son of a famous watch-
maker in the city of Roan ; and this fellow had
wrought in the same profession with several men
in LnndnM. and had for many years, both in Roan
and in London, been looked upon as distracted.
This man confessed " that he had set the first house
" on fire, and that he had been hired in Paris a year
" before to do it : that there were three more com-
" bined with him to do the same thing ; and that
" they came over together into England to put it in
" execution in the time of the plague : but when
" they were in London, he and two of his compa-
" nions went into Sweden, and returned from thence
" in the latter end of August, and he resolved to
" undertake it ; and that the two others went away
" into France. "

The whole examination was so senseless, that the
chief justice, who was not looked upon as a man
who wanted rigour, did not believe any thing he
said. He was asked, " who it was in Paris that
" suborned him to this action :" to which he answer-
ed, " that he did not know, having never seen him
" before ;" and in the enlarging upon that point he
contradicted himself in many particulars. Being
asked *' what money he had received to perform a
" service of so much hazard," he said, " he had re-



EDWARD EARL OF CLARENDON. 95

" ceived but a pistole, but was promised five pistoles 1666.
" more when he should have done his work ;" and
many such unreasonable things, that nobody present
credited any thing he said. However, they durst
not slight the evidence, but put him to a particular,
in which he so fully confirmed all that he had said
before, that they were surprised with wonder, and
knew not afterwards what to say or think. They
asked him, " if he knew the place where he first put
" fire :" he answered, " that he knew it very well,
" and would shew it to any body. " Upon this the
chief justice, and many aldermen who sat with him,
sent a guard of substantial citizens with the prisoner,
that he might shew them the house ; and they first
led him to a place at some distance from it, and
asked him " if that were it :" to which he answered
presently, " No, it was lower, nearer to the Thames. "
The house and all which were near it were so co-
vered and buried in ruins, that the owners them-
selves, without some infallible mark, could very
hardly have said where their own houses 7 - had stood :
but this man led them directly to the place, de-
scribed how it stood, the shape of the little yard,
the fashion of the door and windows, and where he
first put the fire ; and all this with such exactness,
that they who had dwelt long near it could not so
perfectly have described all particulars.

This silenced all further doubts. And though the
chief justice told the king, " that all his discourse
" was so disjointed that he did not believe him
" guilty ;" nor was there one man who prosecuted
or accused him : yet upon his own confession, and

' their own houses] his own house



9f> CONTINUATION OF THE LIFK OF

1666. so sensible a relation of all that he had done, accom-
~ panied with so many circumstances, (though* with-
out the least show of compunction or sorrow for
what he said he had done, nor yet seeming to justify
or to take delight in it ; but being asked whether
he was not sorry for the wickedness, and whether
he intended to do so much, he gave no answer at
all, or made reply to what was said ; and with the
upon which same temper died,) the Jury found him guilty, and
! *ot*d*~ ne was executed accordingly. And though no man
could imagine any reason why a man should so de-
sperately throw away his life, which he might have
saved though he had been guilty, since he was only
accused upon his own confession ; yet neither the
judges nor any present at the trial did believe him
guilty, but that he was a poor distracted wretch,
weary of his life, and chose to part with it this way.
Certain it is, that upon the strictest examination
that could be afterwards made by the king's com-
mand, and then by the diligence of the house, that
upon the general jealousy and rumour made a com-
mittee, that was very diligent and solicitous to make
that discovery, there was never any probable evi-
dence (that poor creature's only excepted) that there
was any other cause of that woful fire, than the dis-
pleasure of God Almighty : the first accident of the
beginning in a baker's house, where there was so
great a stock of fagots, and the neighbourhood of
much combustible matter, of pitch and rosin and
the like, led it b in an instant from house to house
through Thames-street, with the agitation of so ter-
rible a wind to scatter and disperse it.

a though] Not in MS. >' led it] that led it



EDWARD EARL OF CLARENDON. 97

Let the cause be what it would, the effect was 1666.
very terrible ; for above two parts of three of that ~~
great city were burned to ashes, and those the most
rich and wealthy parts of the city, where the great-
est warehouses and the best shops stood. The Royal
Exchange with all the streets about it, Lombard-
street, Cheapside, Paternoster-row, St. Paul's church,
and almost all the other churches in the city, with
the, Old Bailey, Ludgate, all Paul's churchyard even
to the Thames, and the greatest part of Fleet-street,
all which were places the best inhabited, were all
burned without one house remaining.

The value or estimate of what that devouring The ines-

. . . . , timable loss

fire consumed, over and above the houses, could sustained
never be computed in any degree : for besides that by *
the first night (which in a moment swept away the
vast wealth of Thames-street) there was not c any
thing that could be preserved in respect of the sud-
denness and amazement, (all people being in their
beds till the fire was in their houses, and so could
save nothing but themselves,) the next day with the
violence of the wind increased the distraction ; nor
did many believe that the fire was near them, or
that they had reason to remove their goods, till it
was upon them, and rendered it impossible. Then
it fell out at a season jn the year, the beginning of
September, when very many of the substantial citi-
zens and other wealthy men were in the country,
whereof many had not left a servant in their houses,
thinking themselves upon all ordinary accidents
more secure in the goodness and kindness of their
neighbours, than they could be in the fidelity of a
servant; and whatsoever was in such houses was

c not] Omitted in MS.
VOL. III. H



98 CONTINUATION OF THE LIFE OF

166C. entirely consumed by the fire, or lost as to the
"owners. And of this classis of absent men, when
the fire came where the lawyers had houses, as
they had in many places, especially Sergeants-Inn
in Fleet-street, with that part of the Inner Temple
that was next it and White-friars, there was scarce
a man to whom those lodgings appertained who was
in Town : so that whatsoever was there, their mo-
ney, books, and papers, besides the evidences of
many men's estates deposited in their hands, were
all burned or lost, to a very great value. But of
particular men's losses could never be made any
computation.

It was an incredible damage that was and might
rationally be computed to be sustained by one small
company, the company of stationers, in books, paper,
and the other lesser commodities which are vendible
in that corporation, which amounted to no less than
two hundred thousand pounds : in which prodigious
loss there was one circumstance very lamentable.
AH those who dwelt near Paul's carried their goods,
books, paper, and the like, as others of greater
trades did their commodities, into the large vaults
which were under St. Paul's church, before the fire
came thither: which vaults, though all the church
above the ground was afterwards burned, with all
the houses round about, still stood firm and sup-
ported the foundation, and preserved all that was
within them ; until the impatience of those who had
lost their houses, and whatsoever they had else, in
the fire, made them very desirous to see what they
had saved (1 , upon which all their hopes were founded
to repair the rest.

d saved] lost



EDWARD EARL OF CLARENDON. 99

It was the fourth day after the fire ceased to 1666.
flame, though it still burned in the ruins, from""
whence there was still an intolerable heat, when the
booksellers especially, and some other tradesmen,
who had deposited all they had preserved in the
greatest and most spacious vault, came to behold all
their wealth, which to that moment w r as safe : but
the doors were no sooner opened, and the air from
without fanned the strong heat within, but first the
driest and most combustible matters broke into a
flame, which consumed all, of what kind soever,
that till then had been unhurt there. Yet they who
had committed their goods to some lesser vaults, at
a distance from that greater, had better fortune ;
and having learned from the second ruin of their
friends to have more patience, attended till the rain
fell, and extinguished the fire in all places, and
cooled the air : and then they securely opened the
doors, and received all from thence that they had
there.

If so vast a damage as two hundred thousand
pounds befell that little company of stationers in
books and paper and the like, what shall we con-
ceive was lost in cloth, (of which the country clo-
thiers lost all that they had brought up to Black-
well-hall against Michaelmas, which was all burned
with that fair structure,) in silks of all kinds, in
linen, and those richer manufactures ? Not to speak
of money, plate, and jewels, whereof some were re-
covered out of the ruins of those houses which the
owners took care to watch, as containing somewhat
that was worth the looking for, and in which de-
luge there were men ready enough to fish.

The lord mayor, though a very honest man, was
H 2



100 CONTINUATION OF THE LIFE OF

1666. much blamed for want of sagacity in the first night
~ of the fire, before the wind gave it much advance-
ment : for though he came with great diligence as
soon as he had notice of it, and was present with
the first, yet having never been used to such spec-
tacles, his consternation was equal to that of other
men, nor did he know how to apply his authority to
the remedying the present distress ; and when men
who were less terrified with the object pressed him
very earnestly, " that he would give order for the
" present pulling down those houses which were
" nearest, and by which the fire climbed to go fur-
ther," (the doing whereof at that time might pro-
bably have prevented much of the mischief that suc-
ceeded,) he thought it not safe counsel, and made
no other answer, " than that he durst not do it with-
" out the consent of the owners. " His want of skill
was the less wondered at, when it was known after-
wards, that some gentlemen of the Inner Temple
would not endeavour to preserve the goods which
were in the lodgings of absent persons, nor suffer
others to do it, " because," they said, " it was against
" the law to break up any man's chamber. "

The so sudden repair of those formidable ruins,
and the giving so great beauty to all deformity, (a
beauty and a lustre that city had never before been
acquainted with,) is little less wonderful than the
fire that consumed it.

It was hoped and expected that this prodigious
and universal calamity, for the effects of it covered
the whole kingdom, would have made impression,
and produced some reformation in the license of the
court : for as the pains the king had taken night
and day during the fire, and the dangers he had ex-



EDWARD EARL OF CLARENDON. 101

posed himself to, even for the saving the citizens' J666.
goods, had been very notorious, and in the mouths'"
of all men, with good wishes and prayers for him ;
so his majesty had been heard during that time to
speak with great piety and devotion of the displea-
sure that God was provoked to. And no doubt the The king
deep sense of it did raise many good thoughts and affected 7
purposes in his royal breast. But he was nar-^Jity!
rowly watched and looked to, that such melancholic
thoughts 6 might not long possess him, the conse-
quence and effect whereof was like to be more griev-
ous than that of the fire itself; of which that loose
company that was too much cherished, even before
it was extinguished, discoursed as of an argument
for mirth and wit to describe the wildness of the
confusion all people were in ; in which the scripture
itself was used with equal liberty, when they could
apply it to their profane purposes. And Mr. May
presumed to assure the king, " that this was the Measles

taken to

" greatest blessing that God had ever conferred upon efface such

" him, his restoration only excepted: for the walls passions in.

" and gates being now burned and thrown down of him;

" that rebellious city, which was always an enemy

" to the crown, his majesty would never suffer them

" to repair and build them up again, to be a bit in

" his mouth and a bridle upon his neck ; but would

" keep all open, that his troops might enter upon

" them whenever he thought necessary for his ser-

" vice, there being no other way to govern that rude

" multitude but by force. "

This kind of discourse did not please the king,
but was highly approved by the company ; and for

e thoughts] Not in MS.
H 3



102 CONTINUATION OF THE LIFE OF

1666. the wit and pleasantness of it was repeated in all
""companies, infinitely to the king's disservice, and
corrupted the affections of the citizens and of the
country, who used and assumed the same liberty to
publish the profaneness and atheism of the court.
And as nothing was done there in private, so it was
made more public in pasquils and libels, which were
as bold with reflections of the broadest nature upon
the king himself, and upon those in whose company
he was most delighted, as upon the meanest person.

All men of virtue and sobriety, of which there
were very many in the king's family, were grieved
and heartbroken with hearing what they could not
choose but hear, and seeing many things which they
could not avoid the seeing. There were few of the
council that did not to one another lament the ex-
cesses, which must in time be attended with fatal
consequences, and for the present did apparently
lessen the reverence to the king, that is the best
support of his royalty : but few of them had the
courage to say that to his majesty, which was not
so fit to be said to any body else. Nor can it be de-
nied, that his majesty did, upon all occasions, re-
ceive those advertisements from those who presented
them to him, with patience and benignity, and
without the least show of displeasure ; though the
persons concerned endeavoured no one thing more



And to th an to persuade him, " that it was the highest pre-

Imen his

esteem of sumption imaginable in the privy-council to be-
coun P ci'j7 " lieve, that they had any jurisdiction in the court,
" or ought to censure the manners of it. "

Nor were all those endeavours without making
some impression upon his majesty, who rather
esteemed some particular members of it, than was



EDWARD EARL OF CLARENDON. 103

inclined to believe that the body of it ought to re- 1666.
ceive a reverence from the people, or lie looked upon ~"
as a vital part of the government : in which his ma-
jesty (as hath been often said before) by the ill prin-
ciples he had received in France, and the accustomed
liberty of his bedchamber, was exceedingly and un-
happily mistaken. For by the constitution of the
kingdom, and the very laws and customs of the na-
tion, as the privy-council and every member of it is
of the king's sole choice and election of him to that
trust, (for the greatest office in the state, though
conferred likewise by the king himself, doth not
qualify the officer to be of the privy-council, or to be
present in it, before by a new assignation that ho-
nour is bestowed on him, and that he be sworn of
the council ;) so the body of it is the most sacred,
and hath the greatest authority in the government
of the state, next the person of the king himself, to
whom all other powers are equally subject : and no
king of England can so well secure his own just
prerogative, or preserve it from violation, as by a
strict defending and supporting the dignity of his
privy-council.

When it was too much taken notice of, that the
king himself had not that esteem or consideration of
the council that was due to it, what they did or or-
dered to be done was less valued by the people;
and that disrespect every day improved by the want
of gravity and justice arid constancy in the proceed-
ings there, the resolutions of one day being reversed
or altered the next, either upon some whispers in
the king's ear, or some new fancy in some of those
counsellors, who were always of one mind against
all former orders and precedents ; the pride and in-

H 4



104 CONTINUATION OF THE LIFE OF

1666. solent humour of sir William Coventry taking not so
~ much delight in any thing, as to cross and oppose
whatsoever the chancellor or the treasurer advised,
and to reverse what had been ordered upon that
ground. And though he had sucked his milk at the
charge of the law, no man was so professed an enemy
to it and to the professors of it, and shewed so
little f respect to any thing passed and granted under
the great seal of England, but spake against it with
the same confidence as if it had been a common
scroll of no signification ; which kind of behaviour
in a person unqualified by any office to speak much
in such an assembly, as it had never been accus-
tomed, so it would have found much reprehension
there, if it had not been for respect to the duke,
and if the king himself had not very often declared
himself to be of his opinion, even in particulars
which himself had caused to be proposed to a con-
trary purpose.

One day his majesty called the chancellor to him,
and complained very much of the license that was
assumed in the coffeehouses, which were the places
where the boldest calumnies and scandals were
raised, and discoursed amongst a people who knew
not each other, and came together only for that
communication, and from thence were propagated
over the kingdom ; and mentioned some particular
rumours which had been lately dispersed from those
fountains, which on his own behalf he was enough
displeased with, and asked him what was to be done
in it.

The chancellor concurred with him in the sense

' so little] no more



EDWARD EARL OF CLARENDON. 105

of the scandal, and the mischief that must attend ] 666.
the impunity of such places, where the foulest im-~
putations were laid upon the government, which
were held lawful to be reported and divulged to
every body but to the magistrates, who might ex-
amine and punish them ; of which there having yet
been no precedent, people generally believed that
those houses had a charter of privilege to speak
what they would, without being in danger to be
called in question : and " that it was high time for
" his majesty to apply some remedy to such a grow-
" ing disease, and to reform the understanding of
" those who believed that no remedy could be ap-
" plied to it. That it would be fit, either by a pro-
" clamation to forbid all persons to resort to those
" houses, and so totally to suppress them ; or to em-
" ploy some spies, who, being present in the conver-
" sation, might be ready to charge and accuse the
" persons who had talked with most license in a
" subject that would bear a complaint ; upon which
" the proceedings might be in such a manner, as
" would put an end to the confidence that was only
" mischievous in those meetings. " The king liked
both the expedients, and thought that the last could
not justly be made use of till the former should give
fair warning; and commanded him to propose it
that same day in council, that some order might be
given in it.

The chancellor proposed it, as he was required,
with such arguments as were like to move with
men who knew the inconveniences which arose from
those places ; and the king himself mentioned it
with passion, as derogatory to the government, and
directed that the attorney might prepare a procla-



106 CONTINUATION OF THE LIFE OF

1666. mat inn for the suppression of those houses, in which
~ the hoard seemed to agree : when sir William Co-
ventry, who had been heard within few days before
to inveigh with much fierceness against the permis-
sion of so much seditious prattle in the impunity of
those houses, stood up and said, " that coffee was a
" commodity that yielded the king a good revenue,
" and therefore it would not be just to receive the
" duties and inhibit the sale of it, which many men
" found to be very good for their health," as if it
might not be bought and drank but in those licen-
tious meetings. " That it had been permitted in
" Cromwell's time, and that the king's friends had
" used more liberty of speech in those places than
" they durst do in any other ; and that he thought
" it would be better to leave them as they were,
" without running the hazard of ill being continued,
" notwithstanding his command to the contrary. "
And upon these reasons his majesty was converted,
and declined any further debate; which put the
chancellor very much out of countenance, nor knew
he how to behave himself.

The chau- The truth is, he had a very hard province, and
terest de- found his credit every day to decay with the king ;
whilst the whilst they who prevailed against him used all the
affect'to s kiU anc ^ cunning they had to make it believed,
represent that his power with his majesty was as great as it
highest. " had ever been, and that all those things which he
" most opposed were acted by his advice. " And
whilst they procured all those for whom he had
kindness, or who professed any respect towards him,
to be discountenanced and undervalued, and pre-
ferred none but such who were known to have an
aversion for him upon somewhat that he had, or



EDWARD EARL OF CLARENDON. 107

they had been told that he had, obstructed their \C)66.
pretences in ; they persuaded men, " that nobody
" had any credit with the king to dispose of any
" place but he. "

Those very men would often profess to him, " that
" they were so much afflicted at the king's course of
" life, that they even despaired that he would be
" able to master those difficulties which would still
" press him ;" and would then tell him some parti-
culars which he himself had said or done, or had
been said or done lately in his own presence, and of
which he had never heard before ; which gave him
occasion often to blame them, " that they, who had
" the opportunity to see and know many things
" which he had no notice of or could not take any,
" and foresaw the consequence that did attend them,
" did yet forbear to use the credit they had with his
" majesty, in advertising him what they thought
" and heard all others say ;" and he offered " to go
" with them to his majesty, and make a lively repre-
" sentation to him of the great decay of his reputa-
" tion with the people upon his exorbitant excesses,
" which God could never bless :" to all which they
were not ashamed to confess, " that they never had
" nor durst speak to his majesty to that purpose, or
" in such a dialect. " Indeed they were the honester
men in not doing it, for it had been gross hypocrisy
to have found fault with those actions, upon the pur-
suing whereof they most depended; and the re-
formation which they would have been glad to have
seen, had no relation to those inordinate and unlaw-
ful appetites, which were the root from whence all

4 s who had] having



108 CONTINUATION OF THE LIFE OF



1666.



Arlington
laments to
the chan-
cellor the
king's
course of
life: the
king enters
the room.



To whom
the chan-
cellor re-
peats the
discourse.



the other mischiefs had their birth. They did not
wish that the lady's authority and power should he
lessened, much less extinguished ; and that which
would have been the most universal blessing to the
whole kingdom, would have been received by them
as the greatest curse that could befall them.

One day the chancellor and the lord Arlington
were together alone, and the secretary, according to
his custom, was speaking soberly of many great mis-
carriages by the license of the court, and how much
his majesty suffered thereby; when the king sud-
denly came into the room to them, and after he was
sat asked them what they were talking of: to which
the chancellor answered, " that he would tell him
" honestly and truly, and was not sorry for the op-
" portunity. " And the other looking with a very
troubled countenance, he proceeded and said, " that
" they were speaking of his majesty, and, as they
"did frequently, were bewailing the unhappy life he
" lived, botli with respect to himself, who, by the
" excess of pleasures which he indulged to himself,
" was indeed without the true delight and relish of
" any ; and in respect to his government, which he
*' totally neglected, and of which the kingdom was
" so sensible, that it could not be long before he felt
" the ill effects of it. That the people were well
" prepared and well inclined to obey ; but if they
" found that he either would not or could not com-
" mand, their temper would quickly be changed, and
" he would find less obedience in all places, than
" was necessary for his affairs : and that it was too
" evident and visible, that he had already lost very
" much of the affection and reverence the nation
" had for him. "



EDWARD EARL OF CLARENDON.