Diary of Samuel Pepys. Samuel Pepys
did vote that they would not pay any taxes till the House was filled up. I went to my office, where I wrote to my Lord after I had been at the Upper Bench, where Sir Robert Pye
[Sir Robert Pye, the elder, was auditor of the Exchequer, and a
staunch Royalist. He garrisoned his house at Faringdon, which was
besieged by his son, of the same names, a decided Republican, son-
in-law to Hampden, and colonel of horse under Fairfax. The son,
here spoken of, was subsequently committed to the Tower for
presenting a petition to the House of Commons from the county of
Berks, which he represented in Parliament, complaining of the want
of a settled form of government. He had, however, the courage to
move for an habeas corpus, but judge Newdigate decided that the
courts of law had not the power to discharge him. Upon Monk’s
coming to London, the secluded members passed a vote to liberate
Pye, and at the Restoration he was appointed equerry to the King.
He died in 1701.—B.]
this morning came to desire his discharge from the Tower; but it could not be granted. After that I went to Mrs. Jem, who I had promised to go along with to her Aunt Wright’s, but she was gone, so I went thither, and after drinking a glass of sack I went back to Westminster Hall, and meeting with Mr. Pierce the surgeon, who would needs take me home, where Mr. Lucy, Burrell, and others dined, and after dinner I went home and to Westminster Hall, where meeting Swan I went with him by water to the Temple to our Counsel, and did give him a fee to make a motion to-morrow in the Exchequer for Mr. Downing. Thence to Westminster Hall, where I heard an action very finely pleaded between my Lord Dorset and some other noble persons, his lady and other ladies of quality being here, and it was about; £330 per annum, that was to be paid to a poor Spittal, which was given by some of his predecessors; and given on his side. Thence Swan and I to a drinking-house near Temple Bar, where while he wrote I played on my flageolet till a dish of poached eggs was got ready for us, which we eat, and so by coach home. I called at Mr. Harper’s, who told me how Monk had this day clapt up many of the Common-council, and that the Parliament had voted that he should pull down their gates and portcullisses, their posts and their chains, which he do intend to do, and do lie in the City all night. I went home and got some ahlum to my mouth, where I have the beginnings of a cancer, and had also a plaster to my boil underneath my chin.
10th. In the morning I went to Mr. Swan, who took me to the Court of Wards, where I saw the three Lords Commissioners sitting upon some cause where Mr. Scobell was concerned, and my Lord Fountaine took him up very roughly about some things that he said. After that we went to the Exchequer, where the Barons were hearing of causes, and there I made affidavit that Mr. Downing was gone into Holland by order of the Council of State, and this affidavit I gave to Mr. Stevens our lawyer. Thence to my office, where I got money of Mr. Hawly to pay the lawyer, and there found Mr. Lenard, one of the Clerks of the Council, and took him to the Swan and gave him his morning draft. Then home to dinner, and after that to the Exchequer, where I heard all the afternoon a great many causes before the Barons; in the end came ours, and Squib proved clearly by his patent that the house and office did now belong to him. Our lawyer made some kind of opposition, but to no purpose, and so the cause was found against us, and the foreman of the jury brought in £10 damages, which the whole Court cried shame of, and so he cried 12d. Thence I went home, vexed about this business, and there I found Mr. Moore, and with him went into London to Mr. Fage about the cancer in my mouth, which begins to grow dangerous, who gave me something for it, and also told me what Monk had done in the City, how he had pulled down the most part of the gates and chains that they could break down, and that he was now gone back to White Hall. The City look mighty blank, and cannot tell what in the world to do; the Parliament having this day ordered that the Common-council sit no more; but that new ones be chosen according to what qualifications they shall give them. Thence I went and drank with Mr. Moore at the Sugar Loaf by Temple Bar, where Swan and I were last night, and so we parted. At home I found Mr. Hunt, who sat talking with me awhile, and so to bed.
11th. This morning I lay long abed, and then to my office, where I read all the morning my Spanish book of Rome. At noon I walked in the Hall, where I heard the news of a letter from Monk, who was now gone into the City again, and did resolve to stand for the sudden filling up of the House, and it was very strange how the countenance of men in the Hall was all changed with joy in half an hour’s time. So I went up to the lobby, where I saw the Speaker reading of the letter; and after it was read, Sir A. Haselrigge came out very angry, and Billing—[The quaker mentioned before on the 7th of this month.]—standing at the door, took him by the arm, and cried, “Thou man, will thy beast carry thee no longer? thou must fall!” The House presently after rose, and appointed to meet again at three o’clock. I went then down into the Hall, where I met with Mr. Chetwind, who had not dined no more than myself, and so we went toward London, in our way calling at two or three shops, but could have no dinner. At last, within Temple Bar, we found a pullet ready roasted, and there we dined. After that he went to his office in Chancery Lane, calling at the Rolls, where I saw the lawyers pleading. Then to his office, where I sat in his study singing, while he was with his man (Mr. Powell’s son) looking after his business. Thence we took coach for the City to Guildhall, where the Hall was full of people expecting Monk and Lord Mayor to come thither, and all very joyfull. Here we stayed a great while, and at last meeting with a friend of his we went to the 3 Tun tavern and drank half a pint of wine, and not liking the wine we went to an alehouse, where we met with company of this third man’s acquaintance, and there we drank a little. Hence I went alone to Guildhall to see whether Monk was come again or no, and met with him coming out of the chamber where he had been with the Mayor and Aldermen, but such a shout I never heard in all my life, crying out, “God bless your Excellence.” Here I met with Mr. Lock, and took him to an alehouse, and left him there to fetch Chetwind; when we were come together, Lock told us the substance of the letter that went from Monk to the Parliament; wherein, after complaints that he and his officers were put upon such offices against the City as they could not do with any content or honour, that there are many members now in the House that were of the late tyrannical Committee of Safety. That Lambert and Vane are now in town, contrary to the vote of Parliament. That there were many in the House that do press for new oaths to be put upon men; whereas we have more cause to be sorry for the many oaths that we have already taken and broken. That the late petition of the fanatique people presented by Barebone, for the imposing of an oath upon all sorts of people, was received by the House with thanks. That therefore he [Monk] do desire that all writs for filling up of the House be issued by Friday next, and that in the mean time, he would retire into the City and only leave them guards for the security of the House and Council. The occasion of this was the order that he had last night to go into the City and disarm them, and take away their charter; whereby he and his officers say that the House had a mind to put them upon things that should make them odious; and so it would be in their power to do what they would with them. He told us that they [the Parliament] had sent Scott and Robinson to him [Monk] this afternoon, but he would not hear them. And that the Mayor and Aldermen had offered him their own houses for himself and his officers; and that his soldiers would lack for nothing. And indeed I saw many people give the soldiers drink and money, and all along in the streets cried, “God bless them!” and extraordinary good words. Hence we went to a merchant’s house hard by, where Lock wrote a note and left, where I saw Sir Nich. Crisp, and so we went to the Star Tavern (Monk being then at Benson’s), where we dined and I wrote a letter to my Lord from thence. In Cheapside there was a great many bonfires, and Bow bells and all the bells in all the churches as we went home were a-ringing. Hence we went homewards, it being about ten o’clock. But the common joy that was every where to be seen! The number of bonfires, there being fourteen between St. Dunstan’s and Temple Bar, and at Strand Bridge’ I could at one view tell thirty-one fires. In King-street seven or eight; and all along burning, and roasting, and drinking for rumps. There being rumps tied upon sticks and carried up and down. The butchers at the May Pole in the Strand rang a peal with their knives when they were going to sacrifice their rump. On Ludgate Hill there was one turning of the spit that had a rump tied upon it,