[These stationers and booksellers, whose shops disfigured
Westminster Hall down to a late period, were a privileged class.
In the statutes for appointing licensers and regulating the press,
there is a clause exempting them from the pains and penalties of
these obnoxious laws.]
Thence to Mr. Sheply’s and took him to my house and drank with him in order to his going to-morrow. So parted and I sat up late making up my accounts before he go. This day three citizens of London went to meet Monk from the Common Council!
“Jan. 20th. Then there went out of the City, by desire of the Lord
Mayor and Court of Aldermen, Alderman Fowke and Alderman Vincett,
alias Vincent, and Mr. Broomfield, to compliment General Monk, who
lay at Harborough Town, in Leicestershire.”
“Jan. 21st. Because the Speaker was sick, and Lord General Monk so
near London, and everybody thought that the City would suffer for
their affronts to the soldiery, and because they had sent the sword-
bearer to, the General without the Parliament’s consent, and the
three Aldermen were gone to give him the welcome to town, these four
lines were in almost everybody’s mouth:
“Monk under a hood, not well understood,
The City pull in their horns;
The Speaker is out, and sick of the gout,
And the Parliament sit upon thorns.”
—Rugge’s ‘Diurnal.’—B.”
21st. Up early in finishing my accounts and writing to my Lord and from thence to my Lord’s and took leave of Mr. Sheply and possession of all the keys and the house. Thence to my office for some money to pay Mr. Sheply and sent it him by the old man. I then went to Mr. Downing who chid me because I did not give him notice of some of his guests failed him but I told him that I sent our porter to tell him and he was not within, but he told me that he was within till past twelve o’clock. So the porter or he lied. Thence to my office where nothing to do. Then with Mr. Hawly, he and I went to Mr. Crew’s and dined there. Thence into London, to Mr. Vernon’s and I received my £25 due by bill for my troopers’ pay. Then back again to Steadman’s. At the Mitre, in Fleet street, in our way calling on Mr. Fage, who told me how the City have some hopes of Monk. Thence to the Mitre, where I drank a pint of wine, the house being in fitting for Banister to come hither from Paget’s. Thence to Mrs. Jem and gave her £5. So home and left my money and to Whitehall where Luellin and I drank and talked together an hour at Marsh’s and so up to the clerks’ room, where poor Mr. Cook, a black man, that is like to be put out of his clerk’s place, came and railed at me for endeavouring to put him out and get myself in, when I was already in a good condition. But I satisfied him and after I had wrote a letter there to my Lord, wherein I gave him an account how this day Lenthall took his chair again, and [the House] resolved a declaration to be brought in on Monday next to satisfy the world what they intend to do. So home and to bed.
22nd. I went in the morning to Mr. Messum’s, where I met with W. Thurburn and sat with him in his pew. A very eloquent sermon about the duty of all to give good example in our lives and conversation, which I fear he himself was most guilty of not doing. After sermon, at the door by appointment my wife met me, and so to my father’s to dinner, where we had not been to my shame in a fortnight before. After dinner my father shewed me a letter from Mr. Widdrington, of Christ’s College, in Cambridge, wherein he do express very great kindness for my brother, and my father intends that my brother shall go to him. To church in the afternoon to Mr. Herring, where a lazy poor sermon. And so home with Mrs. Turner and sitting with her a while we went to my father’s where we supt very merry, and so home. This day I began to put on buckles to my shoes, which I have bought yesterday of Mr. Wotton.
23rd. In the morning called out to carry £20 to Mr. Downing, which I did and came back, and finding Mr. Pierce, the surgeon, I took him to the Axe and gave him his morning draft. Thence to my office and there did nothing but make up my balance. Came home and found my wife dressing of the girl’s head, by which she was made to look very pretty. I went out and paid Wilkinson what I did owe him, and brought a piece of beef home for dinner. Thence I went out and paid Waters, the vintner, and went to see Mrs. Jem, where I found my Lady Wright, but Scott was so drunk that he could not be seen. Here I staid and made up Mrs. Ann’s bills, and played a game or two at cards, and thence to Westminster Hall, it being very dark. I paid Mrs. Michell, my bookseller, and back to Whitehall, and in the garden, going through to the Stone Gallery—[The Stone Gallery was a long passage between the Privy Garden and the river. It led from the Bowling Green to the Court of the Palace]—I fell into a ditch, it being very dark. At the Clerk’s chamber I met with Simons and Luellin, and went with them to Mr. Mount’s chamber at the Cock Pit, where we had some rare pot venison, and ale to abundance till almost twelve at night, and after a song round we went home. This day the Parliament sat late, and resolved of the declaration to be printed for the people’s satisfaction, promising them a great many good things.
24th. In the morning to my office, where, after I had drank my morning draft at Will’s with Ethell and Mr. Stevens, I went and told part of the excise money till twelve o’clock, and then called on my wife and took her to Mr. Pierces, she in the way being exceedingly troubled with a pair of new pattens, and I vexed to go so slow, it being late. There when we came we found Mrs. Carrick very fine, and one Mr. Lucy, who called one another husband and wife, and after dinner a great deal of mad stir. There was pulling off Mrs. bride’s and Mr. bridegroom’s ribbons;
[The scramble for ribbons, here mentioned by Pepys in connection
with weddings (see also January 26th, 1660–61, and February 8th,
1662–3), doubtless formed part of the ceremony of undressing the
bridegroom, which, as the age became more refined, fell into disuse.
All the old plays are silent on the custom; the earliest notice of
which occurs in the old ballad of the wedding of Arthur O’Bradley,
printed in the Appendix to “Robin Hood,” 1795, where we read—
“Then got they his points and his garters,
And cut them in pieces like martyrs;
And then they all did play
For the honour of Arthur O’Bradley.”
Sir Winston Churchill also observes (“Divi Britannici,” p. 340) that
James I. was no more troubled at his querulous countrymen robbing
him than a bridegroom at the losing of his points and garters. Lady
Fanshawe, in her “Memoirs,” says, that at the nuptials of Charles
II. and the Infanta, “the Bishop of London declared them married in
the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost; and then they
caused the ribbons her Majesty wore to be cut in little pieces; and
as far as they would go, every one had some.” The practice still
survives in the form of wedding favours.
A similar custom is still of every day’s occurrence at Dieppe. Upon
the morrow after their marriage, the bride and bridegroom
perambulate the streets, followed by a numerous cortege, the guests
at the wedding festival, two and two; each individual wearing two
bits of narrow ribbon, about two inches in length, of different