Up betimes and to see how my work goes on. Then Mr. Creed came to me, and he and I walked an hour or two till 8 o’clock in the garden, speaking of our accounts one with another and then things public. Among other things he tells me that my Lord has put me into Commission with himself and many noblemen and others for Tangier, which, if it be, is not only great honour, but may be of profit too, and I am very glad of it.
By and by to sit at the office; and Mr. Coventry did tell us of the duell between Mr. Jermyn, nephew to my Lord St. Albans, and Colonel Giles Rawlins, the latter of whom is killed, and the first mortally wounded, as it is thought. They fought against Captain Thomas Howard, my Lord Carlisle’s brother, and another unknown; who, they say, had armour on that they could not be hurt, so that one of their swords went up to the hilt against it. They had horses ready, and are fled. But what is most strange, Howard sent one challenge, but they could not meet, and then another, and did meet yesterday at the old Pall Mall at St. James’s, and would not to the last tell Jermyn what the quarrel was; nor do any body know. The Court is much concerned in this fray, and I am glad of it; hoping that it will cause some good laws against it.
After sitting, Sir G. Carteret and I walked a good while in the garden, who told me that Sir W. Batten had made his complaint to him that some of us had a mind to do him a bad turn, but I do not see that Sir George is concerned for him at all, but rather against him. He professes all love to me, and did tell me how he had spoke of me to my Lord Chancellor, and that if my Lord Sandwich would ask my Lord Chancellor, he should know what he had said of me to him to my advantage, of which I am very glad, and do not doubt that all things will grow better and better every day for me.
Dined at home alone, then to my office, and there till late at night doing business, and so home, eat a bit, and to bed.
who first mortally wounded thought
who hurt words
but not the body
who had a mind to turn
love to doubt
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Tuesday 19 August 1662.