Volume II Part 19 (1/2)
16th March, 1680. To London, to receive 3,000 of my daughter-in-law's portion, which was paid in gold.
26th March, 1680. The Dean of Sarum preached on Jerem. xlv. 5, an hour and a half from his common-place book, of kings and great men retiring to private situations. Scarce anything of Scripture in it.
[Sidenote: CAs.h.i.+OBURY]
18th April, 1680. On the earnest invitation of the Earl of Ess.e.x, I went with him to his house at Cas.h.i.+obury, in Hertfords.h.i.+re. It was on Sunday, but going early from his house in the square of St. James, we arrived by ten o'clock; this he thought too late to go to church, and we had prayers in his chapel. The house is new, a plain fabric, built by my friend, Mr. Hugh May. There are divers fair and good rooms, and excellent carving by Gibbons, especially the chimney-piece of the library. There is in the porch, or entrance, a painting by Verrio, of Apollo and the Liberal Arts. One room pargeted with yew, which I liked well. Some of the chimney mantels are of Irish marble, brought by my Lord from Ireland, when he was Lord-Lieutenant, and not much inferior to Italian. The tympanum, or gable, at the front is a ba.s.s-relievo of Diana hunting, cut in Portland stone, handsomely enough. I do not approve of the middle doors being round: but, when the hall is finished as designed, it being an oval with a cupola, together with the other wing, it will be a very n.o.ble palace. The library is large, and very n.o.bly furnished, and all the books are richly bound and gilded; but there are no MSS., except the Parliament Rolls and Journals, the transcribing and binding of which cost him, as he a.s.sured me, 500.
No man has been more industrious than this n.o.ble Lord in planting about his seat, adorned with walks, ponds, and other rural elegancies; but the soil is stony, churlish, and uneven, nor is the water near enough to the house, though a very swift and clear stream runs within a flight-shot from it in the valley, which may fitly be called Coldbrook, it being indeed excessively cold, yet producing fair trouts. It is a pity the house was not situated to more advantage: but it seems it was built just where the old one was, which I believe he only meant to repair; this leads men into irremediable errors, and saves but a little.
The land about is exceedingly addicted to wood, but the coldness of the place hinders the growth. Black cherry trees prosper even to considerable timber, some being eighty feet long; they make also very handsome avenues. There is a pretty oval at the end of a fair walk, set about with treble rows of Spanish chestnut trees.
The gardens are very rare, and cannot be otherwise, having so skillful an artist to govern them as Mr. Cooke, who is, as to the mechanic part, not ignorant in mathematics, and pretends to astrology. There is an excellent collection of the choicest fruit.
As for my Lord, he is a sober, wise, judicious, and pondering person, not illiterate beyond the rate of most n.o.blemen in this age, very well versed in English history and affairs, industrious, frugal, methodical, and every way accomplished. His Lady (being sister of the late Earl of Northumberland) is a wise, yet somewhat melancholy woman, setting her heart too much on the little lady, her daughter, of whom she is over fond. They have a hopeful son at the Academy.
My Lord was not long since come from his Lord-Lieutenancy of Ireland, where he showed his abilities in administration and government, as well as prudence in considerably augmenting his estate without reproach. He had been Amba.s.sador-extraordinary in Denmark, and, in a word, such a person as became the son of that worthy hero his father to be, the late Lord Capel, who lost his life for King Charles I.
We spent our time in the mornings in walking, or riding, and contriving [alterations], and the afternoons in the library, so as I pa.s.sed my time for three or four days with much satisfaction. He was pleased in conversation to impart to me divers particulars of state, relating to the present times. He being no great friend to the D---- was now laid aside, his integrity and abilities being not so suitable in this conjuncture. 21st. I returned to London.
30th April, 1680. To a meeting of the executors of late Viscountess Mordaunt's estate, to consider of the sale of Parson's Green, being in treaty with Mr. Loftus, and to settle the half year's account.
1st May, 1680. Was a meeting of the feoffees of the poor of our parish.
This year I would stand one of the collectors of their rents, to give example to others. My son was added to the feoffees.
This afternoon came to visit me Sir Edward Deering, of Surrendon, in Kent, one of the Lords of the Treasury, with his daughter, married to my worthy friend, Sir Robert Southwell, Clerk of the Council, now Extraordinary-Envoy to the Duke of Brandenburgh, and other Princes in Germany, as before he had been in Portugal, being a sober, wise, and virtuous gentleman.
13th May, 1680. I was at the funeral of old Mr. s.h.i.+sh, master-s.h.i.+pwright of his Majesty's Yard here, an honest and remarkable man, and his death a public loss, for his excellent success in building s.h.i.+ps (though altogether illiterate), and for breeding up so many of his children to be able artists. I held up the pall with three knights, who did him that honor, and he was worthy of it. It was the custom of this good man to rise in the night, and to pray, kneeling in his own coffin, which he had lying by him for many years. He was born that famous year, the Gunpowder-plot, 1605.
14th June, 1680. Came to dine with us the Countess of Clarendon, Dr.
Lloyd, Dean of Bangor (since Bishop of St. Asaph), Dr. Burnet, author of the ”History of the Reformation,” and my old friend, Mr. Henshaw. After dinner we all went to see the Observatory, and Mr. Flamsted, who showed us divers rare instruments, especially the great quadrant.
[Sidenote: WINDSOR]
24th July, 1680. Went with my wife and daughter to Windsor, to see that stately court, now near finished. There was erected in the court the King on horseback, lately cast in copper, and set on a rich pedestal of white marble, the work of Mr. Gibbons, at the expense of Toby Rustate, a page of the back stairs, who by his wonderful frugality had arrived to a great estate in money, and did many works of charity, as well as this of grat.i.tude to his master, which cost him 1,000. He is very simple, ignorant, but honest and loyal creature.
We all dined at the Countess of Sunderland's, afterward to see Signor Verrio's garden, thence to Eton College, to salute the provost, and heard a Latin speech of one of the alumni (it being at the election) and were invited to supper; but took our leave, and got to London that night in good time.
[Sidenote: LONDON]
26th July, 1680. My most n.o.ble and ill.u.s.trious friend, the Earl of Ossory, espying me this morning after sermon in the privy gallery, calling to me, told me he was now going his journey (meaning to Tangier, whither he was designed Governor, and General of the forces, to regain the losses we had lately sustained from the Moors, when Inchiquin was Governor). I asked if he would not call at my house (as he always did whenever he went out of England on any exploit). He said he must embark at Portsmouth, ”wherefore let you and me dine together to-day; I am quite alone, and have something to impart to you; I am not well, shall be private, and desire your company.”
Being retired to his lodgings, and set down on a couch, he sent to his secretary for the copy of a letter which he had written to Lord Sunderland (Secretary of State), wis.h.i.+ng me to read it; it was to take notice how ill he resented it, that he should tell the King before Lord Ossory's face, that Tangier was not to be kept, but would certainly be lost, and yet added that it was fit Lord Ossory should be sent, that they might give some account of it to the world, meaning (as supposed) the next Parliament, when all such miscarriages would probably be examined; this Lord Ossory took very ill of Lord Sunderland, and not kindly of the King, who resolving to send him with an incompetent force, seemed, as his Lords.h.i.+p took it, to be willing to cast him away, not only on a hazardous adventure, but in most men's opinion, an impossibility, seeing there was not to be above 300 or 400 horse, and 4,000 foot for the garrison and all, both to defend the town, form a camp, repulse the enemy, and fortify what ground they should get in.
This touched my Lord deeply, that he should be so little considered as to put him on a business in which he should probably not only lose his reputation, but be charged with all the miscarriage and ill success; whereas, at first they promised 6,000 foot and 600 horse effective.
My Lord, being an exceedingly brave and valiant person, and who had so approved himself in divers signal battles, both at sea and land; so beloved and so esteemed by the people, as one they depended on, upon all occasions worthy of such a captain;--he looked on this as too great an indifference in his Majesty, after all his services, and the merits of his father, the Duke of Ormond, and a design of some who envied his virtue. It certainly took so deep root in his mind, that he who was the most void of fear in the world (and a.s.sured me he would go to Tangier with ten men if his Majesty commanded him) could not bear up against this unkindness. Having disburdened himself of this to me after dinner, he went with his Majesty to the sheriffs at a great supper in Fishmongers' Hall; but finding himself ill, took his leave immediately of his Majesty, and came back to his lodging. Not resting well this night, he was persuaded to remove to Arlington House, for better accommodation. His disorder turned to a malignant fever, which increasing, after all that six of the most able physicians could do, he became delirious, with intervals of sense, during which Dr. Lloyd (after Bishop of St. Asaph) administered the Holy Sacrament, of which I also partic.i.p.ated. He died the Friday following, the 30th of July, to the universal grief of all that knew or heard of his great worth, nor had any a greater loss than myself. Oft would he say I was the oldest acquaintance he had in England (when his father was in Ireland), it being now of about thirty years, contracted abroad, when he rode in the Academy in Paris, and when we were seldom asunder.
His Majesty never lost a worthier subject, nor father a better or more dutiful son; a loving, generous, good-natured, and perfectly obliging friend; one who had done innumerable kindnesses to several before they knew it; nor did he ever advance any that were not worthy; no one more brave, more modest; none more humble, sober, and every way virtuous.
Unhappy England in this ill.u.s.trious person's loss! Universal was the mourning for him, and the eulogies on him; I stayed night and day by his bedside to his last gasp, to close his dear eyes! O sad father, mother, wife, and children! What shall I add? He deserved all that a sincere friend, a brave soldier, a virtuous courtier, a loyal subject, an honest man, a bountiful master, and good Christian, could deserve of his prince and country. One thing more let me note, that he often expressed to me the abhorrence he had of that base and unworthy action which he was put upon, of engaging the Smyrna fleet in time of peace, in which though he behaved himself like a great captain, yet he told me it was the only blot in his life, and troubled him exceedingly. Though he was commanded, and never examined further when he was so, yet he always spoke of it with regret and detestation. The Countess was at the seat of her daughter, the Countess of Derby, about 200 miles off.
30th August, 1680. I went to visit a French gentleman, one Monsieur Chardin, who having been thrice in the East Indies, Persia, and other remote countries, came hither in our return s.h.i.+ps from those parts, and it being reported that he was a very curious and knowing man, I was desired by the Royal Society to salute him in their name, and to invite him to honor them with his company. Sir Joseph Hoskins and Sir Christopher Wren accompanied me. We found him at his lodgings in his eastern habit, a very handsome person, extremely affable, a modest, well-bred man, not inclined to talk wonders. He spoke Latin, and understood Greek, Arabic, and Persian, from eleven years' travels in those parts, whither he went in search of jewels, and was become very rich. He seemed about 36 years of age. After the usual civilities, we asked some account of the extraordinary things he must have seen in traveling over land to those places where few, if any, northern Europeans used to go, as the Black and Caspian Sea, Mingrelia, Bagdad, Nineveh, Persepolis, etc. He told us that the things most worthy of our sight would be, the draughts he had caused to be made of some n.o.ble ruins, etc.; for that, besides his own little talent that way, he had carried two good painters with him, to draw landscapes, measure and design the remains of the palace which Alexander burned in his frolic at Persepolis, with divers temples, columns, relievos, and statues, yet extant, which he affirmed to be sculpture far exceeding anything he had observed either at Rome, in Greece, or in any other part of the world where magnificence was in estimation. He said there was an inscription in letters not intelligible, though entire. He was sorry he could not gratify the curiosity of the Society at present, his things not being yet out of the s.h.i.+p; but would wait on them with them on his return from Paris, whither he was going the next day, but with intention to return suddenly, and stay longer here, the persecution in France not suffering Protestants, and he was one, to be quiet.