John Evelyn - The Diary of John Evelyn (Volume 2 of 2)

23d March, 1672. Captain Cox, one of the Commissioners of the Navy, furnishing me with a yatch, I sailed to Sheerness to see that fort also, now newly finished; several places on both sides the Swale and Medway to Gillingham and Upnore, being also provided with redoubts and batteries to secure the station of our men-of-war at Chatham, and shut the door when the steeds were stolen.

24th March, 1672. I saw the chirurgeon cut off the leg of a wounded sailor, the stout and gallant man enduring it with incredible patience, without being bound to his chair, as usual on such painful occasions. I had hardly courage enough to be present. Not being cut off high enough the gangrene prevailed, and the second operation cost the poor creature his life.

Lord! what miseries are mortal men subject to, and what confusion and mischief do the avarice, anger, and ambition of Princes, cause in the world!

25th March, 1672. I proceeded to Canterbury, Dover, Deal, the Isle of Thanet, by Sandwich, and so to Margate. Here we had abundance of miserably wounded men, his Majesty sending his chief chirurgeon, Sergeant Knight, to meet me, and Dr. Waldrond had attended me all the journey. Having taken order for the accommodation of the wounded, I came back through a country the best cultivated of any that in my life I had anywhere seen, every field lying as even as a bowling-green, and the fences, plantations, and husbandry, in such admirable order, as infinitely delighted me, after the sad and afflicting spectacles and objects I was come from. Observing almost every tall tree to have a weathercock on the top bough, and some trees half-a-dozen, I learned that, on a certain holyday, the farmers feast their servants; at which solemnity, they set up these cocks, in a kind of triumph.

Being come back toward Rochester, I went to take order respecting the building a strong and high wall about a house I had hired of a gentleman, at a place called Hartlip, for a prison, paying £50 yearly rent. Here I settled a Provost-Marshal and other officers, returning by Feversham. On the 30th heard a sermon in Rochester cathedral, and so got to Sayes Court on the first of April.

4th April, 1672. I went to see the fopperies of the Papists at Somerset-House and York-House, where now the French Ambassador had caused to be represented our Blessed Savior at the Pascal Supper with his disciples, in figures and puppets made as big as the life, of wax-work, curiously clad and sitting round a large table, the room nobly hung, and shining with innumerable lamps and candles: this was exposed to all the world; all the city came to see it. Such liberty had the Roman Catholics at this time obtained.

16th April, 1672. Sat in Council, preparing Lord Willoughby's commission and instructions as Governor of Barbadoes and the Caribbee Islands.

17th April, 1672. Sat on business in the Star Chamber.

19th April, 1672. At Council, preparing instructions for Colonel Stapleton, now to go Governor of St. Christopher's, and heard the complaints of the Jamaica merchants against the Spaniards, for hindering them from cutting logwood on the mainland, where they have no pretense.

21st April, 1672. To my Lord of Canterbury, to entreat him to engage Sir John Cutler, the patron, to provide us a grave and learned man, in opposition to a novice.

30th April, 1672. Congratulated Mr. Treasurer Clifford's new honor, being made a Baron.

2d May, 1672. My son, John, was specially admitted of the Middle Temple by Sir Francis North, his Majesty's Solicitor-General, and since Chancellor. I pray God bless this beginning, my intention being that he should seriously apply himself to the study of the law.

10th May, 1672. I was ordered, by letter from the Council, to repair forthwith to his Majesty, whom I found in the Pall-Mall, in St. James's Park, where his Majesty coming to me from the company, commanded me to go immediately to the seacoast, and to observe the motion of the Dutch fleet and ours, the Duke and so many of the flower of our nation being now under sail, coming from Portsmouth, through the Downs, where it was believed there might be an encounter.

11th May, 1672. Went to Chatham. 12th. Heard a sermon in Rochester Cathedral.

13th May, 1672. To Canterbury; visited Dr. Bargrave, my old fellow-traveler in Italy, and great virtuoso.

14th May, 1672. To Dover; but the fleet did not appear till the 16th, when the Duke of York with his and the French squadron, in all 170 ships (of which above 100 were men-of-war), sailed by, after the Dutch, who were newly withdrawn. Such a gallant and formidable navy never, I think, spread sail upon the seas. It was a goodly yet terrible sight, to behold them as I did, passing eastward by the straits between Dover and Calais in a glorious day. The wind was yet so high, that I could not well go aboard, and they were soon got out of sight. The next day, having visited our prisoners and the Castle, and saluted the Governor, I took horse for Margate. Here, from the North Foreland Lighthouse top (which is a pharos, built of brick, and having on the top a cradle of iron, in which a man attends a great sea-coal fire all the year long, when the nights are dark, for the safeguard of sailors), we could see our fleet as they lay at anchor. The next morning, they weighed, and sailed out of sight to the N. E.

19th May, 1672. Went to Margate; and, the following day, was carried to see a gallant widow, brought up a farmeress, and I think of gigantic race, rich, comely, and exceedingly industrious. She put me in mind of Deborah and Abigail, her house was so plentifully stored with all manner of country provisions, all of her own growth, and all her conveniences so substantial, neat, and well understood; she herself so jolly and hospitable; and her land so trim and rarely husbanded, that it struck me with admiration at her economy.

This town much consists of brewers of a certain heady ale, and they deal much in malt, etc. For the rest, it is raggedly built, and has an ill haven, with a small fort of little concernment, nor is the island well disciplined; but as to the husbandry and rural part, far exceeding any part of England for the accurate culture of their ground, in which they exceed, even to curiosity and emulation.

We passed by Rickborough, and in sight of Reculvers, and so through a sweet garden, as it were, to Canterbury.

24th May, 1672. To London and gave his Majesty an account of my journey, and that I had put all things in readiness upon all events, and so returned home sufficiently wearied.

31st May, 1672. I received another command to repair to the seaside; so I went to Rochester, where I found many wounded, sick, and prisoners, newly put on shore after the engagement on the 28th, in which the Earl of Sandwich, that incomparable person and my particular friend, and divers more whom I loved, were lost. My Lord (who was Admiral of the Blue) was in the "Prince," which was burnt, one of the best men-of-war that ever spread canvas on the sea. There were lost with this brave man, a son of Sir Charles Cotterell (Master of the Ceremonies), and a son of Sir Charles Harbord (his Majesty's Surveyor-General), two valiant and most accomplished youths, full of virtue and courage, who might have saved themselves; but chose to perish with my Lord, whom they honored and loved above their own lives.

Here, I cannot but make some reflections on things past. It was not above a day or two that going to Whitehall to take leave of his Lordship, who had his lodgings in the Privy-Garden, shaking me by the hand he bid me good-by, and said he thought he would see me no more, and I saw, to my thinking, something boding in his countenance: "No," says he, "they will not have me live. Had I lost a fleet (meaning on his return from Bergen when he took the East India prize) I should have fared better; but, be as it pleases God – I must do something, I know not what, to save my reputation." Something to this effect, he had hinted to me; thus I took my leave. I well remember that the Duke of Albemarle, and my now Lord Clifford, had, I know not why, no great opinion of his courage, because, in former conflicts, being an able and experienced seaman (which neither of them were), he always brought off his Majesty's ships without loss, though not without as many marks of true courage as the stoutest of them; and I am a witness that, in the late war, his own ship was pierced like a colander. But the business was, he was utterly against this war from the beginning, and abhorred the attacking of the Smyrna fleet; he did not favor the heady expedition of Clifford at Bergen, nor was he so furious and confident as was the Duke of Albemarle, who believed he could vanquish the Hollanders with one squadron. My Lord Sandwich was prudent as well as valiant, and always governed his affairs with success and little loss; he was for deliberation and reason, they for action and slaughter without either; and for this, whispered as if my Lord Sandwich was not so gallant, because he was not so rash, and knew how fatal it was to lose a fleet, such as was that under his conduct, and for which these very persons would have censured him on the other side. This it was, I am confident, grieved him, and made him enter like a lion, and fight like one too, in the midst of the hottest service, where the stoutest of the rest seeing him engaged, and so many ships upon him, dared not, or would not, come to his succor, as some of them, whom I know, might have done. Thus, this gallant person perished, to gratify the pride and envy of some I named.