Via Negativa

King’s going from ye Tower to Whitehall
Up early and made myself as fine as I could, and put on my velvet coat, the first day that I put it on, though made half a year ago. And being ready, Sir W. Batten, my Lady, and his two daughters and his son and wife, and Sir W. Pen and his son and I, went to Mr. Young’s, the flag-maker, in Corne-hill; and there we had a good room to ourselves, with wine and good cake, and saw the show very well. In which it is impossible to relate the glory of this day, expressed in the clothes of them that rid, and their horses and horses clothes, among others, my Lord Sandwich’s.
Embroidery and diamonds were ordinary among them. The Knights of the Bath was a brave sight of itself; and their Esquires, among which Mr. Armiger was an Esquire to one of the Knights. Remarquable were the two men that represent the two Dukes of Normandy and Aquitane.
The Bishops come next after Barons, which is the higher place; which makes me think that the next Parliament they will be called to the House of Lords. My Lord Monk rode bare after the King, and led in his hand a spare horse, as being Master of the Horse.
The King, in a most rich embroidered suit and cloak, looked most noble. Wadlow, the vintner, at the Devil; in Fleetstreet, did lead a fine company of soldiers, all young comely men, in white doublets. There followed the Vice-Chamberlain, Sir G. Carteret, a company of men all like Turks; but I know not yet what they are for.
The streets all gravelled, and the houses hung with carpets before them, made brave show, and the ladies out of the windows, one of which over against us I took much notice of, and spoke of her, which made good sport among us.
So glorious was the show with gold and silver, that we were not able to look at it, our eyes at last being so much overcome with it.
Both the King and the Duke of York took notice of us, as he saw us at the window.
The show being ended, Mr. Young did give us a dinner, at which we were very merry, and pleased above imagination at what we have seen. Sir W. Batten going home, he and I called and drunk some mum and laid our wager about my Lady Faulconbridge’s name, which he says not to be Mary, and so I won above 20s.
So home, where Will and the boy staid and saw the show upon Towre Hill, and Jane at T. Pepys’s, the Turner, and my wife at Charles Glassecocke’s, in Fleet Street. In the evening by water to White Hall to my Lord’s, and there I spoke with my Lord. He talked with me about his suit, which was made in France, and cost him 200l., and very rich it is with embroidery. I lay with Mr. Shepley, and …

we make ourselves
impossible to express

clothes horses as bare
as the devil in white

like streets with carpets
and windows into the wind

end up in a suit
rich with embroidery

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Monday 22 April 1661.

(Lord’s day). In the morning we were troubled to hear it rain as it did, because of the great show tomorrow. After I was ready I walked to my father’s and there found the late maid to be gone and another come by my mother’s choice, which my father do not like, and so great difference there will be between my father and mother about it. Here dined Doctor Thos. Pepys and Dr. Fayrebrother; and all our talk about to-morrow’s show, and our trouble that it is like to be a wet day.
After dinner comes in my coz. Snow and his wife, and I think stay there till the show be over. Then I went home, and all the way is so thronged with people to see the triumphal arches, that I could hardly pass for them.
So home, people being at church, and I got home unseen, and so up to my chamber and saw done these last five or six days’ diarys.
My mind a little troubled about my workmen, which, being foreigners, are like to be troubled by a couple of lazy rogues that worked with me the other day, that are citizens, and so my work will be hindered, but I must prevent it if I can.

I hear rain
walk about

like a throng
that could hardly pass

for soup in a little
red can

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Sunday 21 April 1661.

Here comes my boy to tell me that the Duke of York had sent for all the principal officers, &c., to come to him to-day. So I went by water to Mr. Coventry’s, and there staid and talked a good while with him till all the rest come. We went up and saw the Duke dress himself, and in his night habitt he is a very plain man. Then he sent us to his closett, where we saw among other things two very fine chests, covered with gold and Indian varnish, given him by the East Indy Company of Holland. The Duke comes; and after he had told us that the fleet was designed for Algier (which was kept from us till now), we did advise about many things as to the fitting of the fleet, and so went away. And from thence to the Privy Seal, where little to do, and after that took Mr. Creed and Moore and gave them their morning draught, and after that to my Lord’s, where Sir W. Pen came to me, and dined with my Lord. After dinner he and others that dined there went away, and then my Lord looked upon his pages’ and footmen’s liverys, which are come home to-day, and will be handsome, though not gaudy. Then with my Lady and my Lady Wright to White Hall; and in the Banqueting-house saw the King create my Lord Chancellor and several others, Earls, and Mr. Crew and several others, Barons: the first being led up by Heralds and five old Earls to the King, and there the patent is read, and the King puts on his vest, and sword, and coronet, and gives him the patent. And then he kisseth the King’s hand, and rises and stands covered before the king. And the same for the Barons, only he is led up but by three of the old Barons, and are girt with swords before they go to the King.
That being done (which was very pleasant to see their habits), I carried my Lady back, and I found my Lord angry, for that his page had let my Lord’s new beaver be changed for an old hat.
Then I went away, and with Mr. Creed to the Exchange and bought some things, as gloves and bandstrings, &c. So back to the Cockpitt, and there, by the favour of one Mr. Bowman, he and I got in, and there saw the King and Duke of York and his Duchess (which is a plain woman, and like her mother, my Lady Chancellor).
And so saw “The Humersome Lieutenant” acted before the King, but not very well done. But my pleasure was great to see the manner of it, and so many great beauties, but above all Mrs. Palmer, with whom the King do discover a great deal of familiarity.
So Mr. Creed and I (the play being done) went to Mrs. Harper’s, and there sat and drank, it being about twelve at night. The ways being now so dirty, and stopped up with the rayles which are this day set up in the streets, I would not go home, but went with him to his lodging at Mr. Ware’s, and there lay all night.

here comes the night
here comes that which was kept
from us till morning

will the king create
another king

a king is a sword and a kiss
a cover for old loves

a king is a plain moth
a chance tenant

a king is a familiar street
but we are the night

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Saturday 20 April 1661.

Among my workmen and then to the office, and after that dined with Sir W. Batten, and then home, where Sir W. Warren came, and I took him and Mr. Shepley and Moore with me to the Mitre, and there I cleared with Warren for the deals I bought lately for my Lord of him, and he went away, and we staid afterwards a good while and talked, and so parted, it being so foul that I could not go to Whitehall to see the Knights of the Bath made to-day, which do trouble me mightily. So home, and having staid awhile till Will came in (with whom I was vexed for staying abroad), he comes and then I went by water to my father’s, and then after supper to bed with my wife.

a red war went white
to see the night

and who I was abroad
comes to bed

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Friday 19 April 1661.

Up with my workmen and then about 9 o’clock took horse with both the Sir Williams for Walthamstow, and there we found my Lady and her daughters all.
And a pleasant day it was, and all things else, but that my Lady was in a bad mood, which we were troubled at, and had she been noble she would not have been so with her servants, when we came thither, and this Sir W. Pen took notice of, as well as I. After dinner we all went to the Church stile, and there eat and drank, and I was as merry as I could counterfeit myself to be. Then, it raining hard, we left Sir W. Batten, and we two returned and called at Mr. –- and drank some brave wine there, and then homewards again and in our way met with two country fellows upon one horse, which I did, without much ado, give the way to, but Sir W. Pen would not, but struck them and they him, and so passed away, but they giving him some high words, he went back again and struck them off their horse, in a simple fury, and without much honour, in my mind, and so came away.
Home, and I sat with him a good while talking, and then home and to bed.

with my workhorse
a thin pen

I counterfeit myself
rain turned wine

giving high words
a simple home

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Thursday 18 April 1661.

By land and saw the arches, which are now almost done and are very fine, and I saw the picture of the ships and other things this morning, set up before the East Indy House, which are well done. So to the office, and that being done I went to dinner with Sir W. Batten, and then home to my workmen, and saw them go on with great content to me. Then comes Mr. Allen of Chatham, and I took him to the Mitre and there did drink with him, and did get of him the song that pleased me so well there the other day, “Of Shitten come Shites the beginning of love.”
His daughters are to come to town to-morrow, but I know not whether I shall see them or no. That done I went to the Dolphin by appointment and there I met Sir Wms. both and Mr. Castle, and did eat a barrel of oysters and two lobsters, which I did give them, and were very merry.
Here we had great talk of Mr. Warren’s being knighted by the King, and Sir W. B. seemed to be very much incensed against him.
So home.

no one saw us in my tent
at the beginning of love

tomorrow shall see no one
in a castle of two

and here we talk of war
benighted
incensed

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Wednesday 17 April 1661.