19th. Up early, hearing nothing of the child, and went to Scheveling, where I found no getting on board, though the Duke of York sent every day to see whether he could do it or no. Here I met with Mr. Pinkney and his sons, and with them went back to the Hague, in our way lighting and going to see a woman that makes pretty rock-work in shells, &c., which could I have carried safe I would have bought some of. At the Hague we went to buy some pictures, where I saw a sort of painting done upon woollen cloth, drawn as if there was a curtain over it, which was very pleasant, but dear. Another pretty piece of painting I saw, on which there was a great wager laid by young Pinkney and me whether it was a principal or a copy. But not knowing how to decide, it was broken off, and I got the old man to lay out as much as my piece of gold come to, and so saved my money, which had been 24s. lost, I fear. While we were here buying of pictures, we saw Mr. Edward and his company land. Who told me that they had been at Leyden all night, at which I was very angry with Mr. Pierce, and shall not be friends I believe a good while. To our lodging to dinner. After that out to buy some linen to wear against to-morrow, and so to the barber’s. After that by waggon to Lausdune, where the 365 children were born. We saw the hill where they say the house stood and sunk wherein the children were born. The basins wherein the male and female children were baptized do stand over a large table that hangs upon a wall, with the whole story of the thing in Dutch and Latin, beginning, “Margarita Herman Comitissa,” &c. The thing was done about 200 years ago.
The town is a little small village which answers much to one of our small villages, such a one as Chesterton in all respects, and one could have thought it in England but for the language of the people. We went into a little drinking house where there were a great many Dutch boors eating of fish in a boorish manner, but very merry in their way. But the houses here as neat as in the great places. From thence to the Hague again playing at crambo—[Crambo is described as “a play at short verses in which a word is given, and the parties contend who can find most rhymes to it.”]—in the waggon, Mr. Edward, Mr. Ibbott, W. Howe, Mr. Pinkney, and I. When we were come thither W. Howe, and Mr. Ibbott, and Mr. Pinckney went away for Scheveling, while I and the child to walk up and down the town, where I met my old chamber-fellow, Mr. Ch. Anderson, and a friend of his (both Physicians), Mr. Wright, who took me to a Dutch house, where there was an exceeding pretty lass, and right for the sport, but it being Saturday we could not have much of her company, but however I staid with them (having left the child with my uncle Pickering, whom I met in the street) till 12 at night. By that time Charles was almost drunk, and then broke up, he resolving to go thither again, after he had seen me at my lodging, and lie with the girl, which he told me he had done in the morning. Going to my lodging we met with the bellman, who struck upon a clapper, which I took in my hand, and it is just like the clapper that our boys frighten the birds away from the corn with in summer time in England. To bed.
20th. Up early, and with Mr. Pickering and the child by waggon to Scheveling, where it not being yet fit to go off, I went to lie down in a chamber in the house, where in another bed there was a pretty Dutch woman in bed alone, but though I had a month’s-mind
[Month’s-mind. An earnest desire or longing, explained as alluding
to “a woman’s longing.” See Shakespeare, “Two Gentlemen of Verona,”
act i. sc. 2:
“I see you have a month’s mind to them.”—M. B.]
I had not the boldness to go to her. So there I slept an hour or two. At last she rose, and then I rose and walked up and down the chamber, and saw her dress herself after the Dutch dress, and talked to her as much as I could, and took occasion, from her ring which she wore on her first finger, to kiss her hand, but had not the face to offer anything more. So at last I left her there and went to my company. About 8 o’clock I went into the church at Scheveling, which was pretty handsome, and in the chancel a very great upper part of the mouth of a whale, which indeed was of a prodigious bigness, bigger than one of our long boats that belong to one of our ships. Commissioner Pett at last came to our lodging, and caused the boats to go off; so some in one boat and some in another we all bid adieu to the shore. But through badness of weather we were in great danger, and a great while before we could get to the ship, so that of all the company not one but myself that was not sick. I keeping myself in the open air, though I was soundly wet for it. This hath not been known four days together such weather at this time of year, a great while. Indeed our fleet was thought to be in great danger, but we found all well, and Mr. Thos. Crew came on board. I having spoke a word or two with my Lord, being not very well settled, partly through last night’s drinking and want of sleep, I lay down in my gown upon my bed and slept till the 4 o’clock gun the next morning waked me, which I took for 8 at night, and rising … mistook the sun rising for the sun setting on Sunday night.
21st. So into my naked bed
[This is a somewhat late use of an expression which was once
universal. It was formerly the custom for both sexes to sleep in
bed without any nightlinen.
“Who sees his true love in her naked bed,
Teaching the sheets a whiter hue than white.”
Shakespeare, Venus and Adonis.
Nares (“Glossary”) notes the expression so late as in the very odd
novel by T. Amory, called “John Bunde,” where a young lady declares,
after an alarm, “that she would never go into naked bed on board
ship again.” Octavo edition, vol. i. p. 90.]
and slept till 9 o’clock, and then John Goods waked me, [by] and by the captain’s boy brought me four barrels of Mallows oysters, which Captain Tatnell had sent me from Murlace.—[Apparently Mallows stands for St. Malo and Murlace for Morlaise.]—The weather foul all this day also. After dinner, about writing one thing or other all day, and setting my papers in order, having been so long absent. At night Mr. Pierce, Purser (the other Pierce and I having not spoken to one another since we fell out about Mr. Edward), and Mr. Cook sat with me in my cabin and supped with me, and then I went to bed. By letters that came hither in my absence, I understand that the Parliament had ordered all persons to be secured, in order to a trial, that did sit as judges in the late King’s death, and all the officers too attending the Court. Sir John Lenthall moving in the House, that all that had borne arms against the King should be exempted from pardon, he was called to the bar of the House, and after a severe reproof he was degraded his knighthood. At Court I find that all things grow high. The old clergy talk as being sure of their lands again, and laugh at the Presbytery; and it is believed that the sales of the King’s and Bishops’ lands will never be confirmed by Parliament, there being nothing now in any man’s, power to hinder them and the King from doing what they have a mind, but every body willing to submit to any thing. We expect every day to have the King and Duke on board as soon as it is fair. My Lord do nothing now, but offers all things to the pleasure of the Duke as Lord High Admiral. So that I am at a loss what to do.
22nd. Up very early, and now beginning to be settled in my wits again, I went about setting down my last four days’ observations this morning. After that, was trimmed by a barber that has not trimmed me yet, my Spaniard being on shore. News brought that the two Dukes are coming on board, which, by and by, they did, in a Dutch boats the Duke of York in yellow trimmings, the Duke of Gloucester
[Henry, Duke of Gloucester, the youngest child of Charles L, born
July 6th, 16—, who, with his sister Elizabeth, was allowed a
meeting with his father on the night