and that the Duke of Albemarle did do well in it, and it would have been well if he had done it sooner, rather than venture the loss of the fleet and crown, as he must have done, if the Prince had not come. He was surprised when I told him I heard that the King did intend to borrow some money of the City, and would know who had spoke of it to me; I told him Sir Ellis Layton this afternoon. He says it is a dangerous discourse, for that the City certainly will not be invited to do it; and then, for the King to ask it and be denied, will be the beginning of our sorrow. He seems to fear we shall all fall to pieces among ourselves. This evening we hear that Sir Christopher Mings is dead of his late wounds; and Sir W. Coventry did commend him to me in a most extraordinary manner. But this day, after three days' trial in vain, and the hazard of the spoiling of the ship in lying till next spring, besides the disgrace of it, news is brought that the Loyall London is launched at Deptford.

11th. I, with my Lady Pen and her daughter, to see Harman, whom we find lame in bed. His bones of his ancle are broke, but he hopes to do well soon; and a fine person, by his discourse, he seems to be: and he did plainly tell me that at the Council of war before the fight, it was against his reason to begin the fight then, and the reasons of most sober men there, the wind being such, and we to windward, that they could not use their lower tier of guns, which was a sad thing for us to have the honour and weal of the nation ventured so foolishly. Late comes Sir J. Bankes to see me, who tells me that, coming up from Rochester, he overtook three or four hundred seamen; and he

believes every day they come flocking from the fleet in like numbers; which is a sad neglect there, when it will be impossible to get others; and we have little reason to think these will return presently again. Walking in the galleries at White Hall, I find the Ladies of Honour dressed in their riding garbs, with coats and doublets with deep skirts, just, for all the world, like mine; and buttoned their doublets up the breast, with perriwigs and with hats; so that, only for a long petticoat dragging under their men's coats, nobody could take them for women in any point whatever; which was an odde sight, and a sight did not please me. It was Mrs. Wells and another fine lady that I saw thus.

13th. Sir H. Cholmley tells me there are great jars between the Duke of York and the Duke of Albemarle, about the latter's turning out one or two of the commanders put in by the Duke of York. Among others, Captain du Tell, a Frenchman,' put in by the Duke of York, and mightily defended by him; and is therein led by Monsieur Blancford, that it seems hath the same command over the Duke of York as Sir W. Coventry hath; which raises ill blood between them. And I do, in several little things, observe that Sir W. Coventry hath of late, by the by, reflected on the Duke of Albemarle and his captains, particularly in that of old Teddiman, who did deserve to be turned out this fight, and was so; but I heard Sir W. Coventry say that the Duke of Albemarle put in one as bad as he is in his room, and one that did as little. With Balty to Hales's by coach. Here I find my father's picture begun, and so much to my content, that it joys my 1 See p. 245, postea.

very heart to think that I should have his picture so well done; who, besides that he is my father, and a man that loves me, and hath ever done so, is also, at this day, one of the most careful and innocent men in the world. Invited to Sir Christopher Mings's funeral, but find them gone to church. However, I into the church, which is a fair, large church, and a great chapel, and there heard the service, and staid till they buried him, and then out; and there met with Sir W. Coventry, who was there out of great generosity, and no person of quality there but he, and went with him into his coach; and, being in it with him, there happened this extraordinary case-one of the most romantique that ever I heard of in my life, and could not have believed, but that I did see it; which was this:About a dozen able, lusty, proper men come to the coach-side with tears in their eyes, and one of them that spoke for the rest begun, and said to Sir W. Coventry, "We are here a dozen of us, that have long known and loved, and served our dead commander, Sir Christopher Mings, and have now done the last office of laying him in the ground. We would be glad we had any other to offer after him, and in revenge of him. All we have is our lives; if you will please to get His Royal Highness to give us a fire-ship among us all, here are a dozen of us, out of all which, choose you one to be commander; and the rest of us, whoever he is, will serve him; and, if possible, do that which shall show our memory of our dead commander, and our revenge. Sir W. Coventry was herewith much moved, as well as I, who could hardly abstain from weeping, and took their names, and so parted; telling me that he

would move his Royal Highness as in a thing very extraordinary, which was done. The truth is, Sir Christopher Mings was a very stout man, and a man of great parts, and most excellent tongue among ordinary men; and, as Sir W. Coventry says, could have been the most useful man at such a pinch of time as this. He was come into great renowne here at home, and more abroad, in the West Indys. He had brought his family into a way of being great; but, dying at this time, his memory and name, his father being always, and at this day, a shoemaker, and his mother a hoyman's daughter; of which he was used frequently to boast, will be quite forgot in a few months as if he had never been, nor any of his name be the better by it; he having not had time to will any estate, but is dead poor, rather than rich. So we left the church and crowd. Walked to Mrs. Bagwell's, and went into her house; but I was not a little fearful of what she told me but now, which is, that her servant was dead of the plague, and that she had new-whitened the house all below stairs, but that above stairs they are not so fit for me to go up to, they being not so. So I parted thence, with a very good will, but very civilly, and away to the water-side, and sent for a pint of sack, and drank what I would, and give the waterman the rest.

14th. With my wife and father to Hales's, and there looked only on my father's picture, which is mighty like; and so away to White Hall to a Committee for Tangier, where the Duke of York was, and Sir W. Coventry, and a very full committee; and, instead of having a very prejudiced meeting, they did, though inclined against Yeabsly, yield to the greatest part of

his account, so as to allow of his demands to the value of £7000 and more, and only give time for him to make good his pretence to the rest; which was mighty joy to me: and so we rose up. But I must observe the force of money, which did make my Lord Ashly to argue and behave himself in the business with the greatest friendship, and yet with all the discretion imaginable; and it will be a business of admonition and instruction to me concerning him, and other men, too, for aught I know, as long as I live.

15th. Mr. Bland presented me yesterday with a very fine African mat, to lay upon the ground under a bed of state, being the first fruits of our peace with Guyland. To the Exchequer, but could not persuade the blockheaded fellows to do what I desire, of breaking my great tallies into less, notwithstanding my Lord Treasurer's order, which vexed me so much that I would not bestow more time and trouble among a company of dunces. Creed come and dined with me; but, Lord! to hear how he pleases himself in behalf of my Lord Sandwich, in the miscarriage of the Duke of Albemarle.

16th. The King, Duke of York, and Sir W. Coventry are gone down to the fleet. To Woolwich and Deptford, all the way down and up, reading of "The Mayor of Quinborough," a simple play. Comes Mr. Williamson, Sir Arthur Ingram, and Jacke Fen, to see the new ships, and a very fine gentleman Mr. Williamson is. It seems, the Dutch do mightily insult of their victory, and they have great reason. Sir W. Barkeley was killed before his ship taken; and there he lies dead in a sugar-chest, for everybody to see, with his flag stand1 A Comedy, by Thomas Middleton.