Up and all the morning at the office. At noon to the ‘Change, where, after business done, Sir W. Rider and Cutler took me to the Old James and there did give me a good dish of mackerell, the first I have seen this year, very good, and good discourse. After dinner we fell to business about their contract for tarr, in which and in another business of Sir W. Rider’s, canvas, wherein I got him to contract with me, I held them to some terms against their wills, to the King’s advantage, which I believe they will take notice of to my credit.
Thence home, and by water by a gally down to Woolwich, and there a good while with Mr. Pett upon the new ship discoursing and learning of him. Thence with Mr. Deane to see Mr. Falconer, and there find him in a way to be well.
So to the water (after much discourse with great content with Mr. Deane) and home late, and so to the office, wrote to my father among other things my continued displeasure against my brother John, so that I will give him nothing more out of my own purse, which will trouble the poor man, but however it is fit that I should take notice of my brother’s ill carriage to me. Then home and till 12 at night about my month’s accounts, wherein I have just kept within compass, this having been a spending month.
So my people being all abed I put myself to bed very sleepy.
All the newes now is what will become of the Dutch business, whether warr or peace. We all seem to desire it, as thinking ourselves to have advantages at present over them; for my part I dread it. The Parliament promises to assist the King with lives and fortunes, and he receives it with thanks and promises to demand satisfaction of the Dutch.
My poor Lady Sandwich is fallen sick three days since of the meazles.
My Lord Digby’s business is hushed up, and nothing made of it; he is gone, and the discourse quite ended.
Never more quiet in my family all the days of my life than now, there being only my wife and I and Besse and the little girl Susan, the best wenches to our content that we can ever expect.
I have seen a ship in a well
and a compass in bed
what will become of all my promise
in a quiet life
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Saturday 30 April 1664.