9th July, 1649. Dined with Sir Walter Pye, and my good friend, Mr. Eaton, afterward a judge, who corresponded with me in France.

11th July, 1649. Came to see me old Alexander Rosse, the divine historian and poet; Mr. Henshaw, Mr. Scudamore, and other friends to take leave of me.

[Sidenote: GRAVESEND]

12th July, 1649. It was about three in the afternoon, I took oars for Gravesend, accompanied by my cousin, Stephens, and sister, Glanville, who there supped with me and returned; whence I took post immediately to Dover, where I arrived by nine in the morning; and, about eleven that night, went on board a barque guarded by a pinnace of eight guns; this being the first time the Packet-boat had obtained a convoy, having several times before been pillaged. We had a good pa.s.sage, though chased for some hours by a pirate, but he dared not attack our frigate, and we then chased him till he got under the protection of the castle at Calais.

It was a small privateer belonging to the Prince of Wales. I carried over with me my servant, Richard h.o.a.re, an incomparable writer of several hands, whom I afterward preferred in the Prerogative Office, at the return of his Majesty. Lady Catherine Scott, daughter of the Earl of Norwich, followed us in a shallop, with Mr. Arthur Slingsby, who left England _incognito_. At the entrance of the town, the Lieutenant Governor, being on his horse with the guards, let us pa.s.s courteously. I visited Sir Richard Lloyd, an English gentleman, and walked in the church, where the ornament about the high altar of black marble is very fine, and there is a good picture of the a.s.sumption. The citadel seems to be impregnable, and the whole country about it to be laid under water by sluices for many miles.

16th July, 1649. We departed from Paris, in company with that very pleasant lady, Lady Catherine Scott, and others. In all this journey we were greatly apprehensive of parties, which caused us to alight often out of our coach and walk separately on foot, with our guns on our shoulders, in all suspected places.

[Sidenote: PARIS]

1st August, 1649. At three in the afternoon we came to St. Denis, saw the rarities of the church and treasury; and so to Paris that evening.

The next day, came to welcome me at dinner the Lord High Treasurer Cottington, Sir Edward Hyde, Chancellor, Sir Edward Nicholas, Secretary of State, Sir George Carteret, Governor of Jersey, and Dr. Earle, having now been absent from my wife above a year and a half.

18th August, 1649. I went to St. Germains, to kiss his Majesty's hand; in the coach, which was my Lord Wilmot's, went Mrs. Barlow, the King's mistress[39] and mother to the Duke of Monmouth, a brown, beautiful, bold, but insipid creature.

[Footnote 39: The lady here referred to was Lucy, daughter of Richard Walters, Esq., of Haverfordwest. She had two children by the King; James, subsequently so celebrated as the Duke of Monmouth, and Mary, whose lot was obscure in comparison with that of her brother, but of course infinitely happier. She married a Mr. William Sarsfield, of Ireland, and after his death, William Fanshawe, Esq.]

19th August, 1649. I went to salute the French King and the Queen Dowager; and, on the 21st, returned in one of the Queen's coaches with my Lord Germain, Duke of Buckingham, Lord Wentworth, and Mr. Croftes, since Lord Croftes.

7th September, 1649. Went with my wife and dear Cousin to St. Germains, and kissed the Queen-Mother's hand; dined with my Lord Keeper and Lord Hatton. Divers of the great men of France came to see the King. The next day, came the Prince of Conde. Returning to Paris, we went to see the President Maison's palace, built castle-wise, of a milk-white fine freestone; the house not vast, but well contrived, especially the staircase, and the ornaments of Putti, about it. It is environed in a dry moat, the offices under ground, the gardens very excellent with extraordinary long walks, set with elms, and a n.o.ble prospect toward the forest, and on the Seine toward Paris. Take it altogether, the meadows, walks, river, forest, corn-ground, and vineyards, I hardly saw anything in Italy to exceed it. The iron gates are very magnificent. He has pulled down a whole village to make room for his pleasure about it.

12th September, 1649. Dr. Crighton, a Scotchman, and one of his Majesty's chaplains, a learned Grecian who set out the Council of Florence, preached.

13th September, 1649. The King invited the Prince of Conde to supper at St. Cloud; there I kissed the Duke of York's hand in the tennis court, where I saw a famous match between Monsieur Saumeurs and Colonel Cooke, and so returned to Paris. It was noised about that I was knighted, a dignity I often declined.

1st October, 1649. Went with my cousin Tuke (afterward Sir Samuel), to see the fountains of St. Cloud and Ruel; and, after dinner, to talk with the poor ignorant and superst.i.tious anchorite at Mount Calvary, and so to Paris.

2d October, 1649. Came Mr. William Coventry (afterward Sir William) and the Duke's secretary, etc., to visit me.

5th October, 1649. Dined with Sir George Ratcliffe, the great favorite of the late Earl of Stratford, formerly Lord Deputy of Ireland, decapitated.

7th October, 1649. To the Louvre, to visit the Countess of Moreton, governess to Madame.

15th October, 1649. Came news of Drogheda being taken by the rebels, and all put to the sword, which made us very sad, forerunning the loss of all Ireland.

21st October, 1649. I went to hear Dr. d'Avinson's lecture in the physical garden, and see his laboratory, he being Prefect of that excellent garden, and Professor Botanicus.

30th October, 1649. I was at the funeral of one Mr. Downes, a sober English gentleman. We accompanied his corpse to Charenton, where he was interred in a cabbage-garden, yet with the office of our church, which was said before in our chapel at Paris. Here I saw also where they buried the great soldier, Ga.s.sion, who had a tomb built over him like a fountain, the design and materials mean enough. I returned to Paris with Sir Philip Musgrave, and Sir Marmaduke Langdale, since Lord Langdale.--Memorandum. This was a very sickly and mortal autumn.

5th November, 1649. I received divers letters out of England, requiring me to come over about settling some of my concerns.

7th November, 1649. Dr. George Morley (since Bishop of Winchester) preached in our chapel on Matthew 4, verse 3.

18th November, 1649. I went with my father-in-law to see his audience at the French Court, where next the Pope's Nuncio, he was introduced by the master of ceremonies, and, after delivery of his credentials, as from our King, since his father's murder, he was most graciously received by the King of France and his mother, with whom he had a long audience. This was in the Palais Cardinal.

After this, being presented to his Majesty and the Queen Regent I went to see the house built by the late great Cardinal de Richelieu. The most observable thing is the gallery, painted with the portraits of the most ill.u.s.trious persons and single actions in France, with innumerable emblems between every table. In the middle of the gallery, is a neat chapel, rarely paved in work and devices of several sorts of marble, besides the altar-piece and two statues of white marble, one of St. John, the other of the Virgin Mary, by Bernini. The rest of the apartments are rarely gilded and carved, with some good modern paintings. In the presence hang three huge branches of crystal. In the French King's bedchamber, is an alcove like another chamber, set as it were in a chamber like a movable box, with a rich embroidered bed. The fabric of the palace is not magnificent, being but of two stories; but the garden is so s.p.a.cious as to contain a n.o.ble basin and fountain continually playing, and there is a mall, with an elbow, or turning, to protract it.

So I left his Majesty on the terrace, busy in seeing a bull-baiting, and returned home in Prince Edward's coach with Mr. Paul, the Prince Elector's agent.

19th November, 1649. Visited Mr. Waller, where meeting Dr. Holden, an English Sorbonne divine, we fell into some discourse about religion.

28th December, 1649. Going to wait on Mr. Waller, I viewed St. Stephen's church; the building, though Gothic, is full of carving; within it is beautiful, especially the choir and winding stairs. The gla.s.s is well painted, and the tapestry hung up this day about the choir, representing the conversion of Constantine, was exceedingly rich.

I went to that excellent engraver, Du Bosse, for his instruction about some difficulties in perspective which were delivered in his book.

I concluded this year in health, for which I gave solemn thanks to Almighty G.o.d.[40]

[Footnote 40: This he does not fail to repeat at the end of every year, but it will not always be necessary here to insert it.]

29th December, 1649. I christened Sir Hugh Rilie's child with Sir George Radcliffe in our chapel, the parents being so poor that they had provided no gossips, so as several of us drawing lots it fell on me, the Dean of Peterborough (Dr. Cousin) officiating: we named it Andrew, being on the eve of that Apostle's day.

1st January, 1649-50. I began this Jubilee with the public office in our chapel: dined at my Lady Herbert's, wife of Sir Edward Herbert, afterward Lord Keeper.

18th January, 1650. This night was the Prince of Conde and his brother carried prisoners to the Bois de Vincennes.

6th February, 1650. In the evening, came Signor Alessandro, one of the Cardinal Mazarine's musicians, and a person of great name for his knowledge in that art, to visit my wife, and sung before divers persons of quality in my chamber.

1st March, 1650. I went to see the masquerados, which was very fantastic; but nothing so quiet and solemn as I found it at Venice.

13th March, 1650. Saw a triumph in Monsieur del Camp's Academy, where divers of the French and English n.o.blesse, especially my Lord of Ossory, and Richard, sons to the Marquis of Ormond (afterward Duke), did their exercises on horseback in n.o.ble equipage, before a world of spectators and great persons, men and ladies. It ended in a collation.

25th April, 1650. I went out of town to see Madrid, a palace so called, built by Francis I. It is observable only for its open manner of architecture, being much of terraces and galleries one over another to the very roof; and for the materials, which are mostly of earth painted like porcelain, or China-ware, whose colors appear very fresh, but is very fragile. There are whole statues and relievos of this pottery, chimney-pieces, and columns both within and without. Under the chapel is a chimney in the midst of a room parted from the _Salle des Gardes_. The house is fortified with a deep ditch, and has an admirable vista toward the Bois de Boulogne and river.

30th April, 1650. I went to see the collection of the famous sculptor, Steffano de la Bella, returning now into Italy, and bought some prints; and likewise visited Perelle, the landscape graver.

3d May, 1650. At the hospital of La Charite I saw the operation of cutting for the stone. A child of eight or nine years old underwent the operation with most extraordinary patience, and expressing great joy when he saw the stone was drawn. The use I made of it was, to give Almighty G.o.d hearty thanks that I had not been subject to this deplorable infirmity.

7th May, 1650. I went with Sir Richard Browne's lady and my wife, together with the Earl of Chesterfield, Lord Ossory and his brother, to Vamber, a place near the city famous for b.u.t.ter; when, coming homeward, being on foot, a quarrel arose between Lord Ossory and a man in a garden, who thrust Lord Ossory from the gate with uncivil language; on which our young gallants struck the fellow on the pate, and bade him ask pardon, which he did with much submission, and so we parted. But we were not gone far before we heard a noise behind us, and saw people coming with guns, swords, staves, and forks, and who followed, flinging stones; on which, we turned, and were forced to engage, and with our swords, stones, and the help of our servants (one of whom had a pistol) made our retreat for near a quarter of a mile, when we took shelter in a house, where we were besieged, and at length forced to submit to be prisoners. Lord Hatton, with some others, were taken prisoners in the flight, and his lordship was confined under three locks and as many doors in this rude fellow's master's house, who pretended to be steward to Monsieur St. Germain, one of the presidents of the Grand Chambre du Parlement, and a Canon of Notre Dame. Several of us were much hurt. One of our lackeys escaping to Paris, caused the bailiff of St. Germain to come with his guard and rescue us.

Immediately afterward, came Monsieur St. Germain himself, in great wrath, on hearing that his housekeeper was a.s.saulted; but when he saw the King's officers, the gentlemen and n.o.blemen, with his Majesty's Resident and understood the occasion, he was ashamed of the accident, requesting the fellow's pardon, and desiring the ladies to accept their submission and a supper at his house. It was ten o'clock at night ere we got to Paris, guarded by Prince Griffith (a Welsh hero going under that name, and well known in England for his extravagancies), together with the scholars of two academies, who came forth to a.s.sist and meet us on horseback, and would fain have alarmed the town we received the affront from: which, with much ado, we prevented.

12th May, 1650. Complaint being come to the Queen and Court of France of the affront we had received, the President was ordered to ask pardon of Sir R. Browne, his Majesty's Resident, and the fellow to make submission, and be dismissed. There came along with him the President de Thou, son of the great Thua.n.u.s [the historian], and so all was composed. But I have often heard that gallant gentleman, my Lord Ossory, affirm solemnly that in all the conflicts he was ever in at sea or on land (in the most desperate of both which he had often been), he believed he was never in so much danger as when these people rose against us. He used to call it the _bataile de Vambre_, and remember it with a great deal of mirth as an adventure, _en cavalier_.

24th May, 1650. We were invited by the n.o.ble Academies to a running at the ring where were many brave horses, gallants, and ladies, my Lord Stanhope entertaining us with a collation.

12th June, 1650. Being Trinity Sunday, the Dean of Peterborough preached; after which there was an ordination of two divines, Durell and Brevent (the one was afterward Dean of Windsor, the other of Durham, both very learned persons). The Bishop of Galloway officiated with great gravity, after a pious and learned exhortation declaring the weight and dignity of their function, especially now in a time of the poor Church of England's affliction. He magnified the sublimity of the calling, from the object, viz, the salvation of men's souls, and the glory of G.o.d; producing many human instances of the transitoriness and vanity of all other dignity; that of all the triumphs the Roman conquerors made, none was comparable to that of our Blessed Savior's, when he led captivity captive, and gave gifts to men, namely, that of the Holy Spirit, by which his faithful and painful ministers triumphed over Satan as often as they reduced a sinner from the error of his ways. He then proceeded to the ordination. They were presented by the Dean in their surplices before the altar, the Bishop sitting in a chair at one side; and so were made both Deacons and Priests at the same time, in regard to the necessity of the times, there being so few Bishops left in England, and consequently danger of a failure of both functions. Lastly, they proceeded to the Communion. This was all performed in Sir Richard Browne's chapel, at Paris.

13th June, 1650. I sate to the famous sculptor, Nanteuil, who was afterward made a knight by the French King for his art. He engraved my picture in copper. At a future time he presented me with my own picture, done all with his pen; an extraordinary curiosity.

21st June, 1650. I went to see the Samaritan, or pump, at the end of the Pont Neuf, which, though to appearance promising no great matter, is, besides the machine, furnished with innumerable rarities both of art and nature; especially the costly grotto, where are the fairest corals, growing out of the very rock, that I have seen; also great pieces of crystals, amethysts, gold in the mine, and other metals and marcasites, with two great conchas, which the owner told us cost him 200 crowns at Amsterdam. He showed us many landscapes and prospects, very rarely painted in miniature, some with the pen and crayon; divers antiquities and relievos of Rome; above all, that of the inside of the amphitheater of t.i.tus, incomparably drawn by Monsieur St. Clere himself; two boys and three skeletons, molded by Fiamingo; a book of statues, with the pen made for Henry IV., rarely executed, and by which one may discover many errors in the _taille-douce_ of Perrier, who has added divers conceits of his own that are not in the originals. He has likewise an infinite collection of _taille-douces_, richly bound in morocco.

He led us into a stately chamber furnished to have entertained a prince, with pictures of the greatest masters, especially a Venus of Perino del Vaga; the Putti carved in the chimney-piece by the Fleming; the vases of porcelain, and many designed by Raphael; some paintings of Poussin, and Fioravanti; antiques in bra.s.s; the looking-gla.s.s and stands rarely carved. In a word, all was great, choice, and magnificent, and not to be pa.s.sed by as I had often done, without the least suspicion that there were such rare things to be seen in that place. At a future visit, he showed a new grotto and a bathing place, hewn through the battlements of the arches of Pont Neuf into a wide vault at the intercolumniation, so that the coaches and horses thundered over our heads.

[Sidenote: CALAIS]

27th June, 1650. I made my will, and, taking leave of my wife and other friends, took horse for England, paying the messenger eight pistoles for me and my servant to Calais, setting out with seventeen in company well-armed, some Portuguese, Swiss, and French, whereof six were captains and officers. We came the first night to Beaumont; next day, to Beauvais, and lay at Pois, and the next, without dining, reached Abbeville; next, dined at Montreuil, and proceeding met a company on foot (being now within the inroads of the parties which dangerously infest this day's journey from St. Omers and the frontiers), which we drew very near to, ready and resolute to charge through, and accordingly were ordered and led by a captain of our train; but, as we were on the speed, they called out, and proved to be Scotchmen, newly raised and landed, and few among them armed. This night, we were well treated at Boulogne. The next day, we marched in good order, the pa.s.sage being now exceeding dangerous, and got to Calais by a little after two. The sun so scorched my face, that it made the skin peel off.