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CHARLES I. IN PRISON
CHARLES I. IN JAIL
Photogravure after De La Roche
Photogravure by De La Roche

THE DIARY OF JOHN EVELYN
WILLIAM BRAY Member of the Antiquarian Society
FROM THE EDITOR
From the British Museum
ILLUSTRATIONS
VOLUME I.
Charles I in Prison | Frontispiece | ||
Photogravure after De La Roche. | |||
Lord William Russell Bidding Farewell to His Children, 1683 | 180 | ||
Photogravure after a painting by Bridges. | |||
Oliver Cromwell Dictating to John Milton | 284 | ||
The letter to the Duke of Savoy to stop the persecution of the Protestants of Piedmont, 1655. The letter to the Duke of Savoy to end the persecution of the Protestants in Piedmont, 1655. Photogravure from an engraving by Sartain after Newenham. Photogravure from an engraving by Sartain after Newenham. |
VOLUME II.
The Duke of Buckingham | Frontispiece | ||
From an old painting. | |||
Nell Gwyn | 64 | ||
Photogravure after Sir Peter Lely. |
EVELYN'S DIARY
The two chief diarists of the age of Charles the Second are, mutatis mutandis, not ill characterized by the remark of a wicked wit upon the brothers Austin. "John Austin," it was said, "served God and died poor: Charles Austin served the devil, and died rich. Both were clever fellows. Charles was much the cleverer of the two." Thus John Evelyn and Samuel Pepys, the former a perfect model of decorum, the latter a grievous example of indecorum, have respectively left us diaries, of which the indecorous is to the decorous as a zoölogical garden is to a museum: while the disparity between the testamentary bequests of the two Austins but imperfectly represents the reputation standing to Pepys's account with posterity in comparison with that accruing to his sedate and dignified contemporary.
The two main diarists of the era of Charles the Second can be fittingly described by a sharp remark about the Austin brothers. "John Austin," it was said, "served God and died poor: Charles Austin served the devil and died rich. Both were smart guys. Charles was definitely the smarter of the two." So, John Evelyn and Samuel Pepys, with the former representing perfect decorum and the latter a troubling example of indecorum, have each left us diaries, with the indecorous one being to the decorous one as a zoo is to a museum: the difference in the legacies of the two Austins only partially reflects the reputation Pepys holds with future generations compared to that of his calm and dignified contemporary.
Museums, nevertheless, have their uses, and Evelyn's comparatively jejune record has laid us under no small obligation. But for Pepys's amazing indiscretion and garrulity, qualities of which one cannot have too little in life, or too much in the record of it, Evelyn would have been esteemed the first diarist of his age. Unable for want of these qualifications to draw any adequate picture of the stirring life around him, he has executed at least one portrait admirably, his own. The likeness is, moreover, valuable, as there is every reason to suppose it typical, and representative of a very important class of society, the well-bred and well-conducted section of the untitled aristocracy of England. We may well believe that these men were not only the salt but the substance of their order. There was an ill-bred section exclusively devoted to festivity and sport. There was an ill-conducted section, plunged into the dissipations of court life. But the majority were men like Evelyn: not, perhaps, equally refined by culture and travel, or equally interested in literary research and scientific experiment, but well informed and polite; no strangers to the Court, yet hardly[Pg x] to be called courtiers, and preferring country to town; loyal to Church and King but not fanatical or rancorous; as yet but slightly imbued with the principles of civil and religious liberty, yet adverse to carry the dogma of divine right further than the right of succession; fortunate in having survived all ideas of serfdom or vassalage, and in having few private interests not fairly reconcilable with the general good. Evelyn was made to be the spokesman of such a class, and, meaning to speak only for himself, he delivers its mind concerning the Commonwealth and the Restoration, the conduct of the later Stuart Kings and the Revolution.
Museums have their purposes, and Evelyn's relatively dull record has put us in his debt. If it weren't for Pepys's astonishing indiscretion and talkativeness—qualities that are often better avoided in life but are essential in documenting it—Evelyn would have been regarded as the top diarist of his time. Lacking these traits, he couldn't adequately capture the vibrant life around him, but he did create at least one excellent portrait: his own. This likeness is particularly valuable because it likely represents an important segment of society—the polite and well-brought-up part of England's untitled aristocracy. It’s reasonable to think these men were both the essence and the backbone of their class. There was a rude group solely focused on partying and sports. There was another poorly-behaved group caught up in the excesses of court life. But the majority were like Evelyn: not necessarily as cultured and traveled or as interested in literature and scientific experiments, but knowledgeable and polite; familiar with the Court but not quite part of the courtly crowd, preferring the countryside over the city; loyal to Church and King but without extreme views; only slightly influenced by concepts of civil and religious freedom, yet hesitant to push the notion of divine right beyond the right of succession; fortunate enough to have moved past any ideas of serfdom or vassalage and having few personal interests that didn't align with the common good. Evelyn was meant to represent such a class, and while he intended to express only his own views, he conveys their thoughts on the Commonwealth and the Restoration, the behavior of the later Stuart Kings, and the Revolution.
Evelyn's Diary practically begins where many think he had no business to be diarising, beyond the seas. The position of a loyalist who solaces himself in Italy while his King is fighting for his crown certainly requires explanation: it may be sufficient apology for Evelyn that without the family estates he could be of no great service to the King, and that these, lying near London, were actually in the grasp of the Parliament. He was also but one of a large family and it was doubtless convenient that one member should be out of harm's way. His three years' absence (1643-6) has certainly proved advantageous to posterity. Evelyn is, indeed, a mere sight-seer, but this renders his tour a precise record of the objects which the sight-seer of the seventeenth century was expected to note, and a mirror not only of the taste but of the feeling of the time. There is no cult of anything, but there is curiosity about everything; there is no perception of the sentiment of a landscape, but real enjoyment of the landscape itself; antiquity is not unappreciated, but modern works impart more real pleasure. Of the philosophical reflections which afterward rose to the mind of Gibbon there is hardly a vestige, and of course Evelyn is at an immeasurable distance from Byron and De Staël. But he gives us exactly what we want, the actual attitude of a cultivated young Englishman in presence of classic and renaissance art with its background of Southern nature. We may register without undue self-complacency a great development of the modern world in the æsthetical region of the intellect, which implies many other kinds of progress. It is interesting to compare with Evelyn's nar[Pg xi]rative the chapters recording the visit to Italy supposed to have been made at this very period by John Inglesant, who inevitably sees with the eyes of the nineteenth century. Evelyn's casual remarks on foreign manners and institutions display good sense, without extraordinary insight; in description he is frequently observant and graphic, as in his account of the galley slaves, and of Venetian female costumes. He naturally regards Alpine scenery as "melancholy and troublesome."
Evelyn's Diary pretty much starts where many believe he shouldn't have been keeping a diary, overseas. The situation of a loyalist finding comfort in Italy while his King fights for his crown definitely needs some explanation: it might be enough for Evelyn that without his family's estates, he couldn’t be of much help to the King, and those estates, located near London, were actually under parliamentary control. He was also just one of many siblings, and it was probably smart for at least one member to be out of danger. His three years away (1643-6) have surely benefited future generations. Evelyn is, in fact, just a tourist, but this makes his travels an accurate record of what a traveler in the seventeenth century was expected to observe, reflecting both the tastes and feelings of that time. There’s no obsession with anything, but there’s curiosity about everything; there's no sense of the emotion of a landscape, but there’s genuine enjoyment of the landscape itself; while the ancients are appreciated, modern works bring more satisfaction. The philosophical thoughts that later came to Gibbon's mind are hardly present here, and Evelyn is of course far removed from Byron and De Staël. But he provides exactly what we need: the true perspective of a cultured young Englishman facing classic and Renaissance art set against the backdrop of Southern nature. We can objectively note a significant advancement in the modern world in the aesthetic realm of the mind, which suggests progress in other areas too. It’s interesting to compare Evelyn's narrative with the chapters describing the visit to Italy that John Inglesant supposedly made around the same time, as he sees with the eyes of the nineteenth century. Evelyn's casual comments on foreign customs and institutions show good judgment, though not remarkable insight; in his descriptions, he often pays attention to detail and is vivid, as seen in his accounts of the galley slaves and Venetian women's clothing. Naturally, he describes Alpine scenery as "melancholy and troublesome."
Returned to England, Evelyn strictly follows the line of the average English country gentleman, execrating the execution of Charles I., disgusted beyond measure with the suppression of the Church of England service, but submissive to the powers that be until there are evident indications of a change, which he promotes in anything but a Quixotic spirit. Although he is sincerely attached to the monarchy, the condition of the Church is evidently a matter of greater concern to him: Cromwell would have done much to reconcile the royalists to his government, had it been possible for him to have restored the liturgy and episcopacy. The same lesson is to be derived from his demeanor during the reigns of Charles and James. The exultation with which the Restoration is at first hailed soon evaporates. The scandals of the Court are an offense, notwithstanding Evelyn's personal attachment to the King. But the chief point is not vice or favoritism or mismanagement, but alliances with Roman Catholic powers against Protestant nations. Evelyn is enraged to see Charles missing the part so clearly pointed out to him by Providence as the protector of the Protestant religion all over Europe. The conversion of the Duke of York is a fearful blow, James's ecclesiastical policy after his accession adds to Evelyn's discontent day by day, while political tyranny passes almost without remark. At last the old cavalier is glad to welcome the Prince of Orange as deliverer, and though he has no enthusiasm for William in his character as King, he remains his dutiful subject. Just because Evelyn was by no means an extraordinary person, he represents the plain straightforward sense of the English gentry. The questions of the seventeenth century were far more religious than political. The synthesis "Church and King" expressed the dearest convictions of the great[Pg xii] majority of English country families, but when the two became incompatible they left no doubt which held the first place in their hearts. They acted instinctively on the principle of the Persian lady who preferred her brother to her husband. It was not impossible to find a new King, but there was no alternative to the English Church.
Returned to England, Evelyn strictly follows the path of the typical English country gentleman, condemning the execution of Charles I and feeling extremely frustrated with the suppression of the Church of England service. However, he remains submissive to those in power until clear signs of change appear, which he supports with anything but an idealistic mindset. While he is genuinely devoted to the monarchy, the state of the Church is what truly concerns him: Cromwell could have done much to win over the royalists, had it been possible to restore the liturgy and episcopacy. The same lesson can be learned from his behavior during the reigns of Charles and James. The excitement with which the Restoration is initially celebrated quickly fades. The scandals at court are offensive, even with Evelyn's personal loyalty to the King. However, the main issue isn’t vice, favoritism, or mismanagement, but instead alliances with Roman Catholic powers against Protestant nations. Evelyn is furious watching Charles neglect the role clearly indicated by Providence as the protector of the Protestant faith throughout Europe. The conversion of the Duke of York is a significant blow, and James's church policies after his ascension only add to Evelyn's unrest day by day, while political tyranny goes largely unnoticed. Eventually, the old cavalier is pleased to welcome the Prince of Orange as a deliverer, and although he doesn't feel enthusiastic about William as King, he remains a loyal subject. Just because Evelyn isn’t an extraordinary person, he embodies the clear and straightforward views of the English gentry. The issues of the seventeenth century were far more about religion than politics. The concept of "Church and King" expressed the deepest beliefs of the vast majority of English country families, but when the two became incompatible, there was no question as to which one took precedence in their hearts. They acted instinctively on the principle of the Persian woman who preferred her brother over her husband. It was possible to find a new King, but there was no alternative to the English Church.
Evelyn's memoirs thus possess a value far exceeding the modest measure of worth allowed them by De Quincey: "They are useful as now and then enabling one to fix the date of a particular event, but for little besides." The Diary's direct contribution to historical accuracy is insignificant; it is an index, not to chronological minutiæ, but to the general progress of moral and political improvement. The editor of 1857 certainly goes too far in asserting that "All that might have been excluded from the range of his opinions, his feelings and sympathies embraced"; but it is interesting to observe the gradual widening of Evelyn's sympathies with good men of all parties, and to find him in his latter days criticising the evidence produced in support of the Popish Plot on the one hand, and deploring the just condemnation of Algernon Sydney on the other. It is true that, so far as the sufferings of his country are concerned, his attitude is rather that of the Levite than of the Samaritan; but more lively popular sympathies would have destroyed the peculiar value attaching to the testimony of the reluctant witness. We should, for example, have thought little of such a passage as the following from the pen of Burnet, from Evelyn it is significant indeed:—
Evelyn's memoirs hold a value that far outweighs the modest significance assigned to them by De Quincey: "They are useful for occasionally helping to pinpoint the date of a specific event, but not much else." The Diary's direct contribution to historical accuracy is minimal; it serves as a guide not to the fine details of chronology but to the overall progress of moral and political advancement. The editor of 1857 certainly overstates when he claims that "Everything that might have been excluded from the scope of his opinions, his feelings and sympathies encompassed"; however, it's interesting to see how Evelyn's sympathies gradually broadened to include good people from all political sides. In his later years, he criticized the evidence supporting the Popish Plot on one side and lamented the fair condemnation of Algernon Sydney on the other. It's true that, regarding the suffering of his country, his stance is more like that of the Levite than the Samaritan; yet, a more vibrant popular sympathy would have diminished the unique value of the testimony from a reluctant witness. For instance, we would think little of a passage like the following written by Burnet, but from Evelyn, it is indeed significant:—
October 14, 1688.—The King's birthday. No guns from the Tower as usual. The sun eclipsed at its rising. This day signal for the victory of William the Conqueror against Harold, near Battel in Sussex. The wind, which had been hitherto west, was east all this day. Wonderful expectation of the Dutch fleet. Public prayers ordered to be read in the churches against invasion.
October 14, 1688.—The King's birthday. No cannon fire from the Tower like usual. The sun was eclipsed at sunrise. This day marks the victory of William the Conqueror over Harold, near Battle in Sussex. The wind, which had been coming from the west, shifted to the east all day. There was great anticipation for the Dutch fleet. Public prayers were scheduled to be read in churches to ward off invasion.
It might be difficult to produce a nearer approximation in secular literature to Daniel's "Mene, Mene, Tekel, Upharsin."
It might be hard to find a closer comparison in secular literature to Daniel's "Mene, Mene, Tekel, Upharsin."
There is little else in the Diary equally striking, though Evelyn's description of Whitehall on the eve of the death of Charles the Second ranks among the memorable passages of the language. It is nevertheless full of interesting anecdotes and curious notices, especially of the[Pg xiii] scientific research which, in default of any adequate public organization, was in that age more efficaciously promoted by students than by professors. De Quincey censures Evelyn for omitting to record the conversation of the men with whom he associated, but he does not consider that the Diary in its present shape is a digest of memoranda made long previously, and that time failed at one period and memory at the other. De Quincey, whose extreme acuteness was commonly evinced on the negative side of a question, saw the weak points of the Diary upon its first publication much more clearly than his contemporaries did, and was betrayed into illiberality by resentment at what he thought its undeserved vogue. Evelyn has in truth been fortunate; his record, which his contemporaries would have neglected, appeared (1818) just in time to be a precursor of the Anglican movement, a tendency evinced in a similar fashion by the vindication, no doubt mistaken, of the Caroline authorship of the "Icon Basilike." Evelyn was a welcome encounter to men of this cast of thought, and was hailed as a model of piety, culture, and urbanity, without sufficient consideration of his deficiencies as a loyalist and a patriot. It also conduced to his reputation that all his other writings should have virtually perished except his "Sylva," like his Diary a landmark in the history of improvement, though in a widely different department. But for his lack of diplomatic talent, he might be compared with an eminent and much applauded, but in our times somewhat decrescent, contemporary, Sir William Temple. Both these eminent persons would have aroused a warmer feeling in posterity, and have effected more for its instruction and entertainment, if they could occasionally have dashed their dignity with an infusion of the grotesqueness, we will not say of Pepys, but of Roger North. To them, however, their dignity was their character, and although we could have wished them a larger measure of geniality, we must feel indebted to them for their preservation of a refined social type.
There isn't much else in the Diary that stands out like Evelyn's description of Whitehall on the eve of Charles the Second's death, which is one of the memorable parts of the language. However, it’s full of interesting stories and unique observations, especially about the[Pg xiii] scientific research that, due to a lack of public organization, was often pushed forward more effectively by students than professors at that time. De Quincey criticizes Evelyn for not recording the conversations of the people he was with, but he overlooks that the Diary is essentially a compilation of notes made long before, and that there were times when the opportunity for writing or recalling details fell short. De Quincey, known for his keen insights on the negative aspects of matters, recognized the weaknesses of the Diary upon its initial release much more clearly than his peers did, and his resentment towards what he felt was its unearned popularity led him to be somewhat unfair. Evelyn has, in fact, been lucky; his account, which would have been dismissed by his contemporaries, was published (1818) just as the Anglican movement was beginning, a trend similarly reflected in the debatable defense of the Caroline authorship of the "Icon Basilike." Evelyn was embraced by people with this kind of thinking and was celebrated as a model of faith, culture, and civility, without enough consideration for his shortcomings as a loyalist and patriot. His reputation was also bolstered by the fact that nearly all his other writings have essentially vanished except for his "Sylva," which, like his Diary, is significant in the history of progress, though in a different area. If it hadn't been for his lack of diplomatic skills, he could be compared to a well-known and highly praised contemporary, Sir William Temple, who is somewhat less prominent in our time. Both of these distinguished individuals might have inspired more affection in later generations and contributed more to its education and entertainment if they’d occasionally mixed their dignity with a touch of the oddity found in figures like Pepys or Roger North. For them, however, their dignity was their essence, and while we might have preferred them to show a bit more warmth, we must be grateful to them for maintaining a refined social model.

EDITOR'S INTRODUCTION
Evelyn lived in the busy and important times of King Charles I., Oliver Cromwell, King Charles II., King James II., and King William, and early accustomed himself to note such things as occurred, which he thought worthy of remembrance. He was known to, and had much personal intercourse with, the Kings Charles II. and James II.; and he was in habits of great intimacy with many of the ministers of these two monarchs, and with many of the eminent men of those days, as well among the clergy as the laity. Foreigners distinguished for learning, or arts, who came to England, did not leave it without visiting him.
Evelyn lived during the busy and significant times of King Charles I, Oliver Cromwell, King Charles II, King James II, and King William. He quickly became used to noting events that he believed were worth remembering. He was well-acquainted with, and had a lot of personal interaction with, Kings Charles II and James II; he enjoyed a close friendship with many of the ministers of these two kings, as well as many of the notable figures of that era, both clergy and laity. Notable foreigners known for their knowledge or arts who visited England always made sure to see him before leaving.
The following pages contribute extensive and important particulars of this eminent man. They show that he did not travel merely to count steeples, as he expresses himself in one of his Letters: they develop his private character as one of the most amiable kind. With a strong predilection for monarchy, with a personal attachment to Kings Charles II. and James II., formed when they resided at Paris, he was yet utterly averse to the arbitrary measures of these monarchs.
The following pages provide detailed and significant information about this distinguished man. They demonstrate that he didn’t travel just to count steeples, as he puts it in one of his letters; they reveal his private character as one of the most pleasant kinds. With a strong preference for monarchy and a personal bond with Kings Charles II and James II, which developed while they were in Paris, he was nonetheless completely against the arbitrary actions of these rulers.
Strongly and steadily attached to the doctrine and practice of the Church of England, he yet felt the most liberal sentiments for those who differed from him in opinion. He lived in intimacy with men of all persuasions; nor did he think it necessary to break connection with anyone who had ever been induced to desert the Church of England, and embrace the doctrines of that of Rome. In writing to the brother of a gentleman thus circumstanced, in 1659, he expresses himself in this admirable manner: "For the rest, we must commit to Providence the success of times and mitigation of proselytical fervors; having for my own particular a very great charity for all who sincerely adore the Blessed Jesus, our common and dear Saviour, as being full of hope that God (however the present zeal of some, and the[Pg xvi] scandals taken by others at the instant [present] affliction of the Church of England may transport them) will at last compassionate our infirmities, clarify our judgments, and make abatement for our ignorances, superstructures, passions, and errors of corrupt times and interests, of which the Romish persuasion can no way acquit herself, whatever the present prosperity and secular polity may pretend. But God will make all things manifest in his own time, only let us possess ourselves in patience and charity. This will cover a multitude of imperfections."
Strongly and steadily committed to the beliefs and practices of the Church of England, he still held very open-minded views towards those who disagreed with him. He maintained close relationships with people of all faiths; he didn’t feel it was necessary to cut ties with anyone who had chosen to leave the Church of England to follow the teachings of the Catholic Church. In a letter to the brother of a man in this situation in 1659, he expressed himself admirably: "As for everything else, we must leave to Providence the outcome of times and the easing of proselytizing zeal; for my part, I have a great compassion for all who sincerely worship the Blessed Jesus, our shared and beloved Savior. I hold a strong hope that God—despite the current zeal of some and the offenses others take at this moment of struggle for the Church of England—will ultimately have mercy on our weaknesses, clarify our understanding, and forgive our ignorance, excesses, passions, and mistakes caused by corrupt times and interests, from which the Catholic Church cannot completely free itself, no matter how much its current success and worldly influence may suggest. But God will reveal all things in His own time; we must simply practice patience and charity. This will cover a multitude of imperfections."
He speaks with great moderation of the Roman Catholics in general, admitting that some of the laws enacted against them might be mitigated; but of the Jesuits he had the very worst opinion, considering them as a most dangerous Society, and the principal authors of the misfortunes which befell King James II., and of the horrible persecutions of the Protestants in France and Savoy.
He talks very calmly about Roman Catholics in general, acknowledging that some of the laws passed against them could be softened; however, he has a very low opinion of the Jesuits, viewing them as a highly dangerous group and the main cause of the troubles that King James II faced, as well as the terrible persecutions of Protestants in France and Savoy.
He must have conducted himself with uncommon prudence and address, for he had personal friends in the Court of Cromwell, at the same time that he was corresponding with his father-in-law, Sir Richard Browne, the Ambassador of King Charles II. at Paris; and at the same period that he paid his court to the King, he maintained his intimacy with a disgraced minister.
He must have behaved with exceptional caution and skill, since he had personal friends in Cromwell's court while also corresponding with his father-in-law, Sir Richard Browne, the Ambassador of King Charles II in Paris. At the same time he was currying favor with the King, he kept close ties with a fallen minister.
In his travels, he made acquaintance not only with men eminent for learning, but with men ingenious in every art and profession.
In his travels, he got to know not just learned individuals, but also skilled people in every craft and profession.
His manners we may presume to have been most agreeable; for his company was sought by the greatest men, not merely by inviting him to their own tables, but by their repeated visits to him at his own house; and this was equally the case with regard to ladies, of many of whom he speaks in the highest style of admiration, affection, and respect. He was master of the French, Italian, and Spanish languages. That he had read a great deal is manifest; but at what time he found opportunities for study, it is not easy to say. He acknowledges himself to have been idle, while at Oxford; and, when on his travels, he had little time for reading, except when he stayed about nineteen weeks in France, and at Padua, where he was likewise stationary for several months. At Rome, he remained a considerable time,[Pg xvii] but, while there, he was so continually engaged in viewing the great variety of interesting objects to be seen in that city, that he could have found little leisure for reading. When resident in England, he was so much occupied in the business of his numerous offices, in paying visits, in receiving company at home, and in examining whatever was deemed worthy of curiosity, or of scientific observation, that it is astonishing how he found the opportunity to compose the numerous books which he published, and the much greater number of Papers, on almost every subject, which still remain in manuscript; to say nothing of the very extensive and voluminous correspondence which he appears to have carried on during his long life, with men of the greatest eminence in Church and State, and the most distinguished for learning, both Englishmen and foreigners. In this correspondence he does not seem to have made use of an amanuensis; and he has left transcripts in his own hand of great numbers of letters both received and sent. He observes, indeed, in one of these, that he seldom went to bed before twelve, or closed his eyes before one o'clock.
His manners were likely very pleasant, as even the most prominent figures sought his company, not just by inviting him to their own meals but also through their frequent visits to his home. The same goes for ladies, many of whom he speaks of with great admiration, affection, and respect. He was fluent in French, Italian, and Spanish. It’s clear he read a lot, but it’s hard to say when he found the time to study. He admits to being idle while at Oxford, and during his travels, he had little time for reading, except for about nineteen weeks in France and several months in Padua. He spent a considerable amount of time in Rome, but while there, he was so busy exploring the many fascinating sights that he likely had little free time for reading. When he was in England, he was so occupied with his many responsibilities, paying visits, hosting guests, and exploring curious or scientific matters that it's amazing he found the time to write the many books he published, along with an even larger number of papers on almost every topic that still exist in manuscript form. Not to mention the extensive and detailed correspondence he maintained throughout his long life with some of the most notable figures in church and state, as well as the most distinguished scholars, both British and international. In this correspondence, he doesn’t seem to have used a secretary, and he left handwritten copies of many letters he received and sent. He notes in one of these letters that he rarely went to bed before midnight or fell asleep before one o'clock.
He was happy in a wife of congenial dispositions with his own, of an enlightened mind, who had read much, and was skilled in etching and painting, yet attentive to the domestic concerns of her household, and a most affectionate mother.
He was happy with a wife whose personality matched his own, someone with an open mind who had read a lot, was talented in etching and painting, and also took care of the home while being a loving mother.
His grandfather, George, was not the first of the family who settled in Surrey. John, father of this George, was of Kingston, in 1520, and married a daughter of David Vincent, Esq., Lord of the Manor of Long Ditton, near Kingston, which afterward came in the hands of George, who there carried on the manufacture of gunpowder. He purchased very considerable estates in Surrey, and three of his sons became heads of three families, viz, Thomas, his eldest son, at Long Ditton; John, at Godstone, and Richard at Wotton. Each of these three families had the title of Baronet conferred on them at different times, viz, at Godstone, in 1660; Long Ditton, in 1683; and Wotton, in 1713.
His grandfather, George, wasn't the first in the family to settle in Surrey. John, the father of this George, was from Kingston in 1520, and he married a daughter of David Vincent, Esq., Lord of the Manor of Long Ditton, near Kingston. This manor later came into the hands of George, who ran a gunpowder manufacturing business there. He bought significant estates in Surrey, and three of his sons became heads of three different families: Thomas, his oldest son, at Long Ditton; John at Godstone; and Richard at Wotton. Each of these three families received the title of Baronet at different times: Godstone in 1660, Long Ditton in 1683, and Wotton in 1713.
The manufacture of gunpowder was carried on at Godstone as well as at Long Ditton; but it does not appear that there ever was any mill at Wotton, or that the purchase of that place was made with such a view.[Pg xviii]
The production of gunpowder took place at Godstone as well as at Long Ditton, but there doesn’t seem to be any evidence of a mill at Wotton, nor does it look like the purchase of that area was intended for that purpose.[Pg xviii]
It may be not altogether incurious to observe, that though Mr. Evelyn's father was a man of very considerable fortune, the first rudiments of this son's learning were acquired from the village schoolmaster over the porch of Wotton Church. Of his progress at another school, and at college, he himself speaks with great humility; nor did he add much to his stock of knowledge, while he resided in the Middle Temple, to which his father sent him, with the intention that he should apply to what he calls "an impolished study," which he says he never liked.
It’s interesting to note that even though Mr. Evelyn's father was a wealthy man, the early stages of his education came from the village schoolteacher at the porch of Wotton Church. He talks about his progress at another school and at college with a lot of humility; he didn’t really expand his knowledge much while he was at the Middle Temple, where his father sent him, hoping he would pursue what he refers to as "an unrefined study," which he claims he never enjoyed.
The "Biographia" does not notice his tour in France, Flanders, and Holland, in 1641, when he made a short campaign as a volunteer in an English regiment then in service in Flanders.1 Nor does it notice his having set out, with intent to join King Charles I. at Brentford; and subsequently desisting when the result of that battle became known, on the ground that his brother's as well as his own estates were so near London as to be fully in power of the Parliament, and that their continued adherence would have been certain ruin to themselves without any advantage to his Majesty. In this dangerous conjuncture he asked and obtained the King's leave to travel. Of these travels, and the observations he made therein, an ample account is given in this Diary.
The "Biographia" doesn’t mention his trip to France, Flanders, and Holland in 1641, when he briefly served as a volunteer in an English regiment active in Flanders.1 It also doesn’t mention that he set out to join King Charles I. at Brentford but later turned back when he learned the outcome of that battle. He realized that both his brother's and his own estates were so close to London that they were completely under Parliament's control, and staying loyal would have led to their certain destruction without benefiting the King. During this risky time, he requested and received permission from the King to travel. His travels and the observations he made during this time are detailed in this Diary.
The national troubles coming on before he had engaged in any settled plan for his future life, it appears that he had thoughts of living in the most private manner, and that, with his brother's permission, he had even begun to prepare a place for retirement at Wotton. Nor did he afterward wholly abandon his intention, if the plan of a college, which he sent to Mr. Boyle in 1659, was really formed on a serious idea. This scheme is given at length in the "Biographia," and in Dr. Hunter's edition of the "Sylva" in 1776; but it may be observed that he proposes it should not be more than twenty-five miles from London.
The national issues that arose before he had any set plan for his future seem to indicate that he considered living very privately. With his brother's approval, he even started to prepare a place for retirement at Wotton. However, he didn’t completely give up on this idea later on, especially if the college plan he sent to Mr. Boyle in 1659 was genuinely serious. This scheme is detailed in the "Biographia" and in Dr. Hunter's edition of the "Sylva" from 1776; it's worth noting that he suggests it should be no more than twenty-five miles from London.
As to his answer to Sir George Mackenzie's panegyric on Solitude, in which Mr. Evelyn takes the opposite part[Pg xix] and urges the preference to which public employment and an active life is entitled,—it may be considered as the playful essay of one who, for the sake of argument, would controvert another's position, though in reality agreeing with his own opinion; if we think him serious in two letters to Mr. Abraham Cowley, dated 12th March and 24th August, 1666, in the former of which he writes: "You had reason to be astonished at the presumption, not to name it affront, that I, who have so highly celebrated recess, and envied it in others, should become an advocate for the enemy, which of all others it abhors and flies from. I conjure you to believe that I am still of the same mind, and that there is no person alive who does more honor and breathe after the life and repose you so happily cultivate and advance by your example; but, as those who praised dirt, a flea, and the gout, so have I public employment in that trifling Essay, and that in so weak a style compared with my antagonist's, as by that alone it will appear I neither was nor could be serious, and I hope you believe I speak my very soul to you.
As for his response to Sir George Mackenzie's praise of solitude, where Mr. Evelyn takes the opposing view and argues that public work and an active life are more valuable—this can be seen as a light-hearted essay from someone who, just for the sake of argument, challenges another's stance while actually agreeing with his own opinion. If we take him seriously based on two letters to Mr. Abraham Cowley, dated March 12 and August 24, 1666, in the first of these he writes: "You had reason to be surprised at the audacity, if not to call it a slight, that I, who have so highly praised solitude and envied it in others, should become an advocate for the very thing that I detest and avoid. I urge you to believe that I still hold the same view, and that no one alive honors and longs for the peaceful life that you so wonderfully embrace and promote by your example more than I do; but just as those who praised dirt, a flea, and the gout, I did the same for public work in that trivial essay, and in such a feeble style compared to my opponent’s, which shows that I wasn’t and couldn’t be serious, and I hope you believe I’m speaking my true thoughts to you."
Free time——'"
In the other, he says, "I pronounce it to you from my heart as oft as I consider it, that I look on your fruitions with inexpressible emulation, and should think myself more happy than crowned heads, were I, as you, the arbiter of mine own life, and could break from those gilded toys to taste your well-described joys with such a wife and such a friend, whose conversation exceeds all that the mistaken world calls happiness." But, in truth, Mr. Evelyn's mind was too active to admit of solitude at all times, however desirable it might appear to him in theory.
In the other, he says, "From the bottom of my heart, I tell you every time I think about it that I look at your enjoyment with overwhelming jealousy, and I would feel happier than kings if I could be, like you, the master of my own life, and escape from those flashy distractions to experience the pleasures you describe so well with a wife and a friend like yours, whose conversations surpass everything the misguided world calls happiness." But in reality, Mr. Evelyn's mind was too restless to allow for solitude all the time, no matter how appealing it might seem to him in theory.
After he had settled at Deptford, which was in the time of Cromwell, he kept up a constant correspondence with Sir Richard Browne (his father-in-law), the King's Ambassador at Paris; and though his connection must have been known, it does not appear that he met with any interruption from the government here. Indeed, though he remained a decided Royalist, he managed so well as to have intimate friends even among those nearly connected with Cromwell; and to this we may attribute[Pg xx] his being able to avoid taking the Covenant, which he says he never did take. In 1659, he published "An Apology for the Royal Party"; and soon after printed a paper which was of great service to the King, entitled "The Late News, or Message from Brussels Unmasked," which was an answer to a pamphlet designed to represent the King in the worst light.
After he settled in Deptford during Cromwell's time, he maintained a constant correspondence with Sir Richard Browne (his father-in-law), the King's Ambassador in Paris. Although his connections must have been known, it seems he didn't face any issues from the government here. In fact, even though he remained a staunch Royalist, he navigated things well enough to have close friends among those closely associated with Cromwell. This is likely why he was able to avoid taking the Covenant, which he claims he never did. In 1659, he published "An Apology for the Royal Party," and soon after, he printed a document that greatly benefited the King, titled "The Late News, or Message from Brussels Unmasked," which responded to a pamphlet meant to portray the King negatively.
On the Restoration, we find him very frequently at Court; and he became engaged in many public employments, still attending to his studies and literary pursuits. Among these, is particularly to be mentioned the Royal Society, in the establishment and conduct of which he took a very active part. He procured Mr. Howard's library to be given to them; and by his influence, in 1667, the Arundelian Marbles were obtained for the University of Oxford.
After the Restoration, he was often at Court and got involved in various public roles while still focusing on his studies and writing. Notably, he played a crucial role in the establishment and running of the Royal Society. He helped arrange for Mr. Howard's library to be donated to them, and through his influence, in 1667, the Arundelian Marbles were acquired for the University of Oxford.
His first appointment to a public office was in 1662, as a Commissioner for reforming the buildings, ways, streets, and incumbrances, and regulating hackney coaches in London. In the same year he sat as a Commissioner on an inquiry into the conduct of the Lord Mayor, etc., concerning Sir Thomas Gresham's charities. In 1664 he was in a commission for regulating the Mint; in the same year was appointed one of the Commissioners for the care of the Sick and Wounded in the Dutch war; and he was continued in the same employment in the second war with that country.
His first appointment to a public office was in 1662, as a Commissioner for reforming the buildings, roads, streets, and obstacles, and regulating hackney coaches in London. In the same year, he served as a Commissioner investigating the actions of the Lord Mayor regarding Sir Thomas Gresham's charities. In 1664, he was part of a commission for regulating the Mint; that same year, he was appointed as one of the Commissioners responsible for the care of the Sick and Wounded during the Dutch war, and he continued in that role during the second war with that country.
He was one of the Commissioners for the repair of St. Paul's Cathedral, shortly before it was burned in 1666. In that year he was also in a commission for regulating the farming and making saltpetre; and in 1671 we find him a Commissioner of Plantations on the establishment of the board, to which the Council of Trade was added in 1672.
He was one of the Commissioners responsible for repairing St. Paul's Cathedral, just before it was destroyed in the fire of 1666. That same year, he was also part of a commission overseeing farming and the production of saltpetre; and by 1671, he served as a Commissioner of Plantations on the newly formed board, which had the Council of Trade added to it in 1672.
In 1685 he was one of the Commissioners of the Privy Seal, during the absence of the Earl of Clarendon (who held that office), on his going Lord Lieutenant to Ireland. On the foundation of Greenwich Hospital, in 1695, he was one of the Commissioners; and, on the 30th of June, 1696, laid the first stone of that building. He was also appointed Treasurer, with a salary of £200 a year; but he says that it was a long time before he received any part of it.[Pg xxi]
In 1685, he served as one of the Commissioners of the Privy Seal while the Earl of Clarendon (who held that position) was away serving as Lord Lieutenant of Ireland. When Greenwich Hospital was established in 1695, he became one of the Commissioners, and on June 30, 1696, he laid the first stone of the building. He was also appointed Treasurer with a salary of £200 a year, but he mentioned that it took a long time before he actually received any of it.[Pg xxi]
When the Czar of Muscovy came to England, in 1698, proposing to instruct himself in the art of shipbuilding, he was desirous of having the use of Sayes Court, in consequence of its vicinity to the King's dockyard at Deptford. This was conceded; but during his stay he did so much damage that Mr. Evelyn had an allowance of £150 for it. He especially regrets the mischief done to his famous holly hedge, which might have been thought beyond the reach of damage. But one of Czar Peter's favorite recreations had been to demolish the hedges by riding through them in a wheelbarrow.
When the Czar of Muscovy visited England in 1698 to learn about shipbuilding, he wanted to use Sayes Court because it was close to the King's dockyard at Deptford. This request was granted, but while he was there, he caused so much damage that Mr. Evelyn received £150 to cover the costs. He particularly lamented the harm done to his famous holly hedge, which seemed invulnerable to damage. However, one of Czar Peter's favorite pastimes was to ruin hedges by riding through them in a wheelbarrow.
October, 1699, his elder brother, George Evelyn, dying without male issue, aged eighty-three, he succeeded to the paternal estate; and in May following, he quitted Sayes Court and went to Wotton, where he passed the remainder of his life, with the exception of occasional visits to London, where he retained a house. In the great storm of 1703, he mentions in his last edition of the "Sylva," above one thousand trees were blown down in sight of his residence.
October 1699, his older brother, George Evelyn, died without any male heirs at the age of eighty-three, and he inherited the family estate. In May of the following year, he left Sayes Court and moved to Wotton, where he spent the rest of his life, except for occasional trips to London, where he owned a house. In the major storm of 1703, he noted in the last edition of the "Sylva" that over a thousand trees were blown down in view of his home.
He died at his house in London, 27th February, 1705-6, in the eighty-sixth year of his age, and was buried at Wotton. His lady survived him nearly three years, dying 9th February, 1708-9, in her seventy-fourth year, and was buried near him at Wotton.
He passed away at his home in London on February 27, 1705-6, at the age of eighty-six, and was laid to rest in Wotton. His wife lived for nearly three more years, dying on February 9, 1708-9, at the age of seventy-four, and was buried near him in Wotton.
Of Evelyn's children, a son, who died at the age of five, and a daughter, who died at the age of nineteen, were almost prodigies. The particulars of their extraordinary endowments, and the profound manner in which he was affected at their deaths, may be seen in these volumes.
Of Evelyn's children, a son who died when he was five and a daughter who passed away at nineteen were almost prodigies. The details of their remarkable talents and the deep impact their deaths had on him can be found in these volumes.
One daughter was well and happily settled; another less so; but she did not survive her marriage more than a few months. The only son who lived to the age of manhood, inherited his father's love of learning, and distinguished himself by several publications.
One daughter was doing well and happily settled; another, not so much; but she didn't survive her marriage for more than a few months. The only son who lived to adulthood inherited his father's love of learning and distinguished himself with several publications.
Mr. Evelyn's employment as a Commissioner for the care of the Sick and Wounded was very laborious; and, from the nature of it, must have been extremely unpleasant. Almost the whole labor was in his department, which included all the ports between the river Thames and Portsmouth; and he had to travel in all seasons and weathers, by land and by water, in the execution of his[Pg xxii] office, to which he gave the strictest attention. It was rendered still more disagreeable by the great difficulty which he found in procuring money for support of the prisoners. In the library at Wotton, are copies of numerous letters to the Lord Treasurer and Officers of State, representing, in the strongest terms, the great distress of the poor men, and of those who had furnished lodging and necessaries for them. At one time, there were such arrears of payment to the victuallers, that, on landing additional sick and wounded, they lay some time in the streets, the publicans refusing to receive them, and shutting up their houses. After all this trouble and fatigue, he found as great difficulty in getting his accounts settled.2 In January, 1665-6, he formed a plan for an Infirmary at Chatham, which he sent to Mr. Pepys, to be laid before the Admiralty, with his reasons for recommending it; but it does not appear that it was carried into execution.
Mr. Evelyn's job as a Commissioner for the care of the Sick and Wounded was very demanding and, given the nature of it, must have been quite unpleasant. Almost all the work fell under his department, which covered all the ports between the Thames River and Portsmouth. He had to travel in all seasons and weathers, by land and by water, to fulfill his duties, to which he dedicated his utmost attention. It became even more challenging due to the significant difficulty he faced in securing funds to support the prisoners. In the library at Wotton, there are copies of numerous letters to the Lord Treasurer and State Officials, strongly depicting the great distress of the poor men and those who provided lodging and necessities for them. At one point, there were such delays in payment to the suppliers that, upon bringing in additional sick and wounded, they had to remain in the streets for a while, as the pub owners refused to take them in and shut their doors. After all this trouble and exhaustion, he faced just as much trouble in getting his accounts resolved. In January 1665-66, he proposed a plan for an Infirmary at Chatham, which he sent to Mr. Pepys to present to the Admiralty, along with his reasons for recommending it; however, it appears that it was never implemented.
His employments, in connection with the repair of St. Paul's (which, however, occupied him but a brief time), as in the Commission of Trade and Plantations, and in the building of Greenwich Hospital, were much better adapted to his inclinations and pursuits.
His jobs related to the repair of St. Paul's (which only took up a short time), as well as his work in the Commission of Trade and Plantations and in building Greenwich Hospital, were much more suited to his interests and goals.
As a Commissioner of the Privy Seal in the reign of King James II., he had a difficult task to perform. He was most steadily attached to the Church of England, and the King required the Seal to be affixed to many things incompatible with the welfare of that Church. This, on some occasions, he refused to do, particularly to a license to Dr. Obadiah Walker to print Popish books;3 and on other occasions he absented himself, leaving it to[Pg xxiii] his brother Commissioners to act as they thought fit. Such, however, was the King's estimation of him, that no displeasure was evinced on this account.
As a Commissioner of the Privy Seal during King James II's reign, he had a challenging role. He was deeply committed to the Church of England, but the King needed the Seal to be attached to many things that were not in the Church's best interest. On some occasions, he refused to go along with this, especially when it came to granting Dr. Obadiah Walker a license to print Catholic books; and at other times, he chose to be absent, letting his fellow Commissioners make decisions as they saw fit. Despite this, the King held him in such high regard that he showed no displeasure about it.
Of Evelyn's attempt to bring Colonel Morley (Cromwell's Lieutenant of the Tower, immediately preceding the Restoration) over to the King's interest, an imperfect account is given in the "Biographia." The fact is, that there was great friendship between these gentlemen, and Evelyn did endeavor to engage the Colonel in the King's interest. He saw him several times, and put his life into his hands by writing to him on 12th January, 1659-60; he did not succeed, and Colonel Morley was too much his friend to betray him; but so far from the Colonel having settled matters privately with Sir Anthony Ashley Cooper, or General Monk, as there described, he was obliged, when the Restoration took place, actually to apply to Evelyn to procure his pardon; who obtained it accordingly, though, as he states, the Colonel was obliged to pay a large sum of money for it. This could not have happened, if there had been any previous negotiation with General Monk.
Of Evelyn's attempt to win Colonel Morley (Cromwell's Lieutenant of the Tower, just before the Restoration) over to the King's side, there's an incomplete account in the "Biographia." The truth is, there was a strong friendship between these men, and Evelyn tried to get the Colonel to support the King. He met with him several times and put himself at risk by writing to him on January 12, 1659-60; he wasn’t successful, and Colonel Morley valued their friendship too much to turn him in. Contrary to what’s mentioned regarding the Colonel settling things privately with Sir Anthony Ashley Cooper or General Monk, he actually had to ask Evelyn to help him get his pardon when the Restoration happened. Evelyn managed to secure it, but as he notes, the Colonel had to pay a hefty amount for it. This wouldn’t have been the case if there had been any prior negotiations with General Monk.
Dr. Campbell took some pains to vindicate Mr. Evelyn's book, entitled, "Navigation and Commerce, their Origin and Progress," from the charge of being an imperfect work, unequal to the expectation excited by the title. But the Doctor, who had not the information which this Journal so amply affords on this subject, was not aware that what was so printed was nothing more than an Introduction to the History of the Dutch War; a work undertaken by Evelyn at the express command of King Charles II., and the materials for which were furnished by the Officers of State. The completion of this work, after considerable progress had been made in it, was put a stop to by the King himself, for what reason does not appear; but perhaps it was found that Evelyn was inclined to tell too much of the truth concerning a transaction, which it will be seen by his Journal that he utterly reprobated. His copy of the History, as far as he had proceeded, he put into the hands of his friend, Mr. Pepys, of the Admiralty, who did not return it; but the books and manuscripts belonging to Mr. Pepys passed into the possession of Magdalen College, Cambridge.[Pg xxiv]
Dr. Campbell made an effort to defend Mr. Evelyn's book, titled "Navigation and Commerce: Their Origin and Progress," against claims that it was an incomplete work that did not live up to the expectations set by its title. However, the Doctor, lacking the information that this Journal provides so thoroughly on the subject, was unaware that what had been printed was merely an Introduction to the History of the Dutch War; a project initiated by Evelyn at the direct request of King Charles II., with the materials supplied by the State Officers. The project was halted by the King himself after it had progressed significantly, although the reason for this is unclear; it might be that Evelyn was perceived to risk revealing too much of the truth about an event that, as shown in his Journal, he strongly condemned. He handed over his copy of the History, up to the point he had worked on, to his friend Mr. Pepys at the Admiralty, who did not return it. Ultimately, the books and manuscripts owned by Mr. Pepys ended up with Magdalen College, Cambridge.[Pg xxiv]
From the numerous authors who have spoken in high terms of Mr. Evelyn, we will select the two following notices of him.
From the many authors who have praised Mr. Evelyn, we will highlight the following two mentions of him.
In the "Biographia Britannica" Dr. Campbell says, "It is certain that very few authors who have written in our language deserve the character of able and agreeable writers so well as Mr. Evelyn, who, though he was acquainted with most sciences, and wrote upon many different subjects, yet was very far, indeed the farthest of most men of his time, from being a superficial writer. He had genius, he had taste, he had learning; and he knew how to give all these a proper place in his works, so as never to pass for a pedant, even with such as were least in love with literature, and to be justly esteemed a polite author by those who knew it best."
In the "Biographia Britannica," Dr. Campbell states, "It's clear that very few authors who have written in our language are as skilled and enjoyable to read as Mr. Evelyn. Although he was knowledgeable in most sciences and wrote on a variety of topics, he was, in fact, far from being a superficial writer—more so than most men of his time. He had talent, he had style, he had knowledge; and he understood how to integrate all these elements in his works without coming off as a know-it-all, even to those who were least fond of literature. He earned the respect of those who truly appreciated it as a refined writer."
Horace Walpole (afterward Earl of Orford), in his Catalogue of Engravers, gives us the following admirably drawn character: "If Mr. Evelyn had not been an artist himself, as I think I can prove he was, I should yet have found it difficult to deny myself the pleasure of allotting him a place among the arts he loved, promoted, patronized; and it would be but justice to inscribe his name with due panegyric in these records, as I have once or twice taken the liberty to criticise him. But they are trifling blemishes compared with his amiable virtues and beneficence; and it may be remarked that the worst I have said of him is, that he knew more than he always communicated. It is no unwelcome satire to say, that a man's intelligence and philosophy is inexhaustible. I mean not to write his biography, but I must observe, that his life, which was extended to eighty-six years, was a course of inquiry, study, curiosity, instruction, and benevolence. The works of the Creator, and the minute labors of the creature, were all objects of his pursuit. He unfolded the perfection of the one, and assisted the imperfection of the other. He adored from examination; was a courtier that flattered only by informing his Prince, and by pointing out what was worthy of him to countenance; and really was the neighbor of the Gospel, for there was no man that might not have been the better for him. Whoever peruses a list of his works will subscribe to my assertion. He was one of the first promoters of the Royal Society; a patron of the ingenious and the indigent; and[Pg xxv] peculiarly serviceable to the lettered world; for, besides his writings and discoveries, he obtained the Arundelian Marbles for the University of Oxford, and the Arundelian Library for the Royal Society. Nor is it the least part of his praise, that he who proposed to Mr. Boyle the erection of a Philosophical College for retired and speculative persons, had the honesty to write in defense of active life against Sir George Mackenzie's 'Essay on Solitude.' He knew that retirement, in his own hands, was industry and benefit to mankind; but in those of others, laziness and inutility."
Horace Walpole (later the Earl of Orford), in his Catalogue of Engravers, presents an impressively crafted character: "If Mr. Evelyn hadn’t been an artist himself, as I believe I can demonstrate he was, I would still find it hard to deny myself the pleasure of placing him among the arts he cherished, promoted, and supported; and it would only be fair to write his name with appropriate praise in these records, especially since I have taken the liberty of criticizing him once or twice. But those are minor blemishes compared to his admirable virtues and generosity; and it can be noted that the worst I’ve said about him is that he knew more than he always shared. It's not unwelcome criticism to say that a person’s intelligence and philosophy are limitless. I'm not trying to write his biography, but I must point out that his life, which lasted eighty-six years, was filled with inquiry, study, curiosity, teaching, and kindness. He pursued both the works of the Creator and the meticulous efforts of humanity. He revealed the perfection of the former and helped to improve the shortcomings of the latter. He praised through examination; he was a courtier who only flattered by educating his Prince and highlighting what was worthy of his support; and he truly embodied the spirit of the Gospel, as there was no one who wouldn’t have benefited from him. Anyone who looks at a list of his works will agree with me. He was one of the first supporters of the Royal Society; a supporter of the talented and the needy; and[Pg xxv] especially valuable to the literary world; for, in addition to his writings and discoveries, he secured the Arundelian Marbles for the University of Oxford and the Arundelian Library for the Royal Society. Also, it’s worth noting that the man who proposed the establishment of a Philosophical College for introspective and thoughtful individuals had the integrity to write in defense of active life against Sir George Mackenzie’s 'Essay on Solitude.' He recognized that solitude, in his own case, was productive and beneficial for humanity; but in the hands of others, it often led to laziness and uselessness."
Evelyn was buried in the Dormitory adjoining Wotton Church.
Evelyn was buried in the dormitory next to Wotton Church.
On a white marble, covering a tomb shaped like a coffin, raised about three feet above the floor, is inscribed:
On a white marble covering a coffin-shaped tomb, raised about three feet off the floor, it says:
Here lies the Body
of John Evelyn, Esq.,
of this place, second son
of Richard Evelyn, Esq.;
who having serv'd the Publick
in several employments, of which that
of Commissioner of the Privy-Seal in the
Reign of King James the 2d was most
honourable, and perpetuated his fame
by far more lasting monuments than
those of Stone or Brass, his learned
and usefull Works, fell asleep the 27 day
of February 1705-6, being the 86 year
of his age, in full hope of a glorious
Resurrection, thro' Faith in Jesus Christ.
Living in an age of extraordinary
Events and Revolutions, he learnt
(as himself asserted) this Truth,
which pursuant to his intention
is here declared—
That all is vanity which is not honest,
and that there is no solid wisdom
but in real Piety.
Of five Sons and three Daughters
born to him from his most
vertuous and excellent Wife,
Mary, sole daughter and heiress
of Sir Rich. Browne of Sayes
Court near Deptford in Kent,
onely one daughter, Susanna,
married to William Draper
Esq., of Adscomb in this[Pg xxvi]
County, survived him; the
two others dying in the
flower of their age, and
all the Sons very young, except
one named John, who
deceased 24 March, 1698-9,
in the 45 year of his age,
leaving one son, John, and
one daughter, Elizabeth.
Here lies the Body
of John Evelyn, Esq.,
of this place, the second son
of Richard Evelyn, Esq.;
who served the Public
in various roles, the most
honorable being Commissioner of the Privy Seal during the
Reign of King James II, and solidified his legacy
with far more enduring works than
those made of Stone or Brass—his learned
and useful Writings. He passed away on the 27th day
of February 1705-6, at the age of 86,
with full hope of a glorious
Resurrection, through Faith in Jesus Christ.
Living in a time of extraordinary
Events and Revolutions, he learned
(as he himself stated) this Truth,
which in accordance with his intention
is here declared—
That all is vanity which is not honest,
and that there is no true wisdom
except in genuine Piety.
Of five Sons and three Daughters
born to him from his most
virtuous and excellent Wife,
Mary, the only daughter and heiress
of Sir Rich. Browne of Sayes
Court near Deptford in Kent,
only one daughter, Susanna,
married to William Draper
Esq., of Adscomb in this[Pg xxvi]
County, survived him; the
two others passed away in the
flower of their youth, and
all the Sons were very young, except
one named John, who
died on March 24, 1698-9,
at the age of 45,
leaving behind one son, John, and
one daughter, Elizabeth.
DIARY OF JOHN EVELYN.
I was born at Wotton, in the County of Surrey, about twenty minutes past two in the morning, being on Tuesday the 31st and last of October, 1620, after my father had been married about seven years,4 and that my mother had borne him three children; viz, two daughters and one son, about the 33d year of his age, and the 23d of my mother's.
I was born in Wotton, Surrey, around twenty minutes after two in the morning, on Tuesday, October 31st, 1620, after my father had been married for about seven years,4 and my mother had given birth to three children: two daughters and one son, when my father was about 33 years old and my mother was 23.
My father, named Richard, was of a sanguine complexion, mixed with a dash of choler: his hair inclining to light, which, though exceedingly thick, became hoary by the time he had attained to thirty years of age; it was somewhat curled toward the extremities; his beard, which he wore a little peaked, as the mode was, of a brownish color, and so continued to the last, save that it was somewhat mingled with gray hairs about his cheeks, which, with his countenance, were clear and fresh-colored; his eyes extraordinary quick and piercing; an ample forehead,—in sum, a very well-composed visage and manly aspect: for the rest, he was but low of stature, yet very strong. He was, for his life, so exact and temperate, that I have heard he had never been surprised by excess, being ascetic and sparing. His wisdom was great, and his judgment most acute; of solid discourse, affable, humble, and in nothing affected; of a thriving, neat, silent, and methodical genius, discreetly severe, yet liberal upon all just occasions, both to his children, to strangers, and servants; a lover of hospitality; and, in brief, of a singular and Christian moderation in all his actions; not illiterate, nor obscure, as, having continued Justice of the Peace and of the Quorum, he served his country as High Sheriff, being, as I take it,[Pg 2] the last dignified with that office for Sussex and Surrey together, the same year, before their separation. He was yet a studious decliner of honors and titles; being already in that esteem with his country, that they could have added little to him besides their burden. He was a person of that rare conversation that, upon frequent recollection, and calling to mind passages of his life and discourse, I could never charge him with the least passion, or inadvertency. His estate was esteemed about £4000 per annum, well wooded, and full of timber.
My father, Richard, had a cheerful complexion mixed with a hint of anger; his hair leaned towards light, which, despite being very thick, turned gray by the time he was thirty. It was slightly curly at the ends. He had a somewhat pointed beard, which was brown and remained that way until the end, though it was a bit mixed with gray hairs on his cheeks. His face was clear and fresh-looking, with sharp, piercing eyes, a broad forehead—in short, he had a well-shaped face and a strong appearance. He was a bit short but very strong. Throughout his life, he was so precise and moderate that I heard he was never caught up in excess, living simply and frugally. His wisdom was great, and he had keen judgment; he was a good speaker, friendly, humble, and never pretentious. He had a thriving, tidy, quiet, and organized mind that was wisely strict but generous whenever it was right to be, both to his children, strangers, and servants. He loved hospitality and, in brief, showed a unique and Christian moderation in everything he did. He was not uneducated or obscure; he held the position of Justice of the Peace and served his country as High Sheriff, being, as I believe, the last person to hold that office for Sussex and Surrey together, the same year before they were separated. He was a man who deliberately avoided honors and titles; he was already respected in his community, and they could have given him little more than added responsibility. He was such an interesting conversationalist that, reflecting on his life and discussions, I could never blame him for any outburst or oversight. His estate was valued at about £4000 a year, well-wooded and full of timber.
My mother's name was Eleanor, sole daughter and heiress of John Standsfield, Esq., of an ancient and honorable family (though now extinct) in Shropshire, by his wife Eleanor Comber, of a good and well-known house in Sussex. She was of proper personage; of a brown complexion; her eyes and hair of a lovely black; of constitution more inclined to a religious melancholy, or pious sadness; of a rare memory, and most exemplary life; for economy and prudence, esteemed one of the most conspicuous in her country: which rendered her loss much deplored, both by those who knew, and such as only heard of her.
My mother's name was Eleanor, the only daughter and heiress of John Standsfield, Esq., from an old and respected family (now gone) in Shropshire, and his wife Eleanor Comber, from a well-known family in Sussex. She had a good presence; a brown complexion; her eyes and hair were a beautiful black; she had a temperament that leaned more towards religious melancholy or pious sadness; she had an excellent memory and lived an exemplary life; she was known for her frugality and wisdom, considered one of the most outstanding in her community: her loss was deeply mourned by everyone who knew her and even by those who had just heard of her.
Thus much, in brief, touching my parents; nor was it reasonable I should speak less of them to whom I owe so much.
So much for my parents in short; it wouldn’t be fair for me to say less about them, considering how much I owe them.
The place of my birth was Wotton, in the parish of Wotton, or Blackheath, in the county of Surrey, the then mansion-house of my father, left him by my grandfather, afterward and now my eldest brother's. It is situated in the most southern part of the shire; and, though in a valley, yet really upon part of Leith Hill, one of the most eminent in England for the prodigious prospect to be seen from its summit, though by few observed. From it may be discerned twelve or thirteen counties, with part of the sea on the coast of Sussex, in a serene day. The house is large and ancient, suitable to those hospitable times, and so sweetly environed with those delicious streams and venerable woods, as in the judgment of strangers as well as Englishmen it may be compared to one of the most pleasant seats in the nation, and most tempting for a great person and a wanton purse to render it conspicuous. It has rising grounds, meadows, woods, and water, in abundance.[Pg 3]
I was born in Wotton, in the parish of Wotton or Blackheath, in Surrey, where my father’s house, inherited from my grandfather, now belongs to my eldest brother. It’s located in the southernmost part of the county and, while it's set in a valley, it actually sits on part of Leith Hill, one of the highest points in England, known for its breathtaking views from the top, even though few people notice it. On a clear day, you can see twelve or thirteen counties and part of the sea along the Sussex coast. The house is large and old, fitting for the welcoming times, and is surrounded by beautiful streams and ancient woods, making it one of the most attractive places in the country according to both visitors and locals, appealing to anyone with wealth and ambition. It features rolling hills, meadows, an abundance of woods, and plenty of water.[Pg 3]
The distance from London little more than twenty miles, and yet so securely placed, as if it were one hundred; three miles from Dorking, which serves it abundantly with provision as well of land as sea; six from Guildford, twelve from Kingston. I will say nothing of the air, because the pre-eminence is universally given to Surrey, the soil being dry and sandy; but I should speak much of the gardens, fountains, and groves that adorn it, were they not as generally known to be among the most natural, and (till this later and universal luxury of the whole nation, since abounding in such expenses) the most magnificent that England afforded; and which indeed gave one of the first examples to that elegancy, since so much in vogue, and followed in the managing of their waters, and other elegancies of that nature. Let me add, the contiguity of five or six manors, the patronage of the livings about it, and what Themistocles pronounced for none of the least advantages—the good neighborhood. All which conspire here to render it an honorable and handsome royalty, fit for the present possessor, my worthy brother, and his noble lady, whose constant liberality gives them title both to the place and the affections of all that know them. Thus, with the poet:
The distance from London is just over twenty miles, yet it feels much further away; it's three miles from Dorking, which provides plenty of food from both land and sea; six miles from Guildford, and twelve from Kingston. I won't talk about the air quality since Surrey is universally recognized for its superiority, with dry, sandy soil. However, I would mention the beautiful gardens, fountains, and groves that decorate the area, if they weren't already known to be some of the most natural and, until this recent trend of luxury that has spread throughout the nation, some of the most magnificent in England. They actually set one of the first examples of the elegance we now see so much, especially in managing water features and other similar charming details. I should also point out the proximity of five or six estates, the local patronage of the churches in the area, and what Themistocles said is one of the most valuable advantages—the good neighbors. All of these factors come together to make it a dignified and beautiful residence, suitable for the current owner, my esteemed brother, and his noble wife, whose consistent generosity earns them a place in the hearts of everyone who knows them. Thus, with the poet:
I had given me the name of my grandfather, my mother's father, who, together with a sister of Sir Thomas Evelyn, of Long Ditton, and Mr. Comber, a near relation of my mother, were my susceptors. The solemnity (yet upon what accident I know not, unless some indisposition in me) was performed in the dining-room by Parson Higham, the present incumbent of the parish, according to the forms prescribed by the then glorious Church of England.
I was named after my grandfather, my mother's father, who, along with a sister of Sir Thomas Evelyn from Long Ditton and Mr. Comber, a close relative of my mother, were my sponsors. The ceremony (though I’m not sure why, unless I was feeling unwell) took place in the dining room, conducted by Parson Higham, the current priest of the parish, according to the rituals laid out by the then esteemed Church of England.
I was now (in regard to my mother's weakness, or rather custom of persons of quality) put to nurse to one Peter, a neighbor's wife and tenant, of a good, comely, brown, wholesome complexion, and in a most sweet place toward the hills, flanked with wood and refreshed with streams; the affection to which kind of solitude I sucked in with my very milk. It appears, by a note of my[Pg 4] father's, that I sucked till 17th of January, 1622, or at least I came not home before.5
I was now, due to my mother’s weakness or rather the custom among people of higher status, placed in the care of a neighbor's wife, Peter, who was a tenant. She had a good, attractive, healthy complexion and lived in a lovely spot near the hills, surrounded by woods and fresh streams. I developed a fondness for this kind of solitude from the very beginning of my life. A note from my father indicates that I was nursed until January 17, 1622, or at least I didn’t return home before then.[Pg 4]5
1623. The very first thing that I can call to memory, and from which time forward I began to observe, was this year (1623) my youngest brother, being in his nurse's arms, who, being then two days and nine months younger than myself, was the last child of my dear parents.
1623. The first thing I remember, and from which I started to observe, was this year (1623) when my youngest brother, being held by his nurse, was just two days and nine months younger than me. He was the last child of my dear parents.
1624. I was not initiated into any rudiments until near four years of age, and then one Frier taught us at the church-porch of Wotton; and I do perfectly remember the great talk and stir about Il Conde Gondomar, now Ambassador from Spain (for near about this time was the match of our Prince with the Infanta proposed); and the effects of that comet, 1618, still working in the prodigious revolutions now beginning in Europe, especially in Germany, whose sad commotions sprang from the Bohemians' defection from the Emperor Matthias; upon which quarrel the Swedes broke in, giving umbrage to the rest of the princes, and the whole Christian world cause to deplore it, as never since enjoying perfect tranquillity.
1624. I wasn't introduced to any basics until I was almost four years old, and then one Friar taught us at the church porch in Wotton. I clearly remember all the buzz and excitement about Il Conde Gondomar, who was the Ambassador from Spain at the time (around when the match between our Prince and the Infanta was proposed); and the effects of that comet in 1618 were still causing significant changes in Europe, especially in Germany, where the unfortunate turmoil began after the Bohemians turned away from Emperor Matthias. This conflict led the Swedes to intervene, upsetting the other princes, and it gave the entire Christian world reason to mourn, as they had never experienced complete peace since then.
1625. I was this year (being the first of the reign of King Charles) sent by my father to Lewes, in Sussex, to be with my grandfather, Standsfield, with whom I passed my childhood. This was the year in which the pestilence was so epidemical, that there died in London 5,000 a week, and I well remember the strict watches and examinations upon the ways as we passed; and I was shortly after so dangerously sick of a fever that (as I have heard) the physicians despaired of me.
1625. This year, during the first year of King Charles's reign, my father sent me to Lewes in Sussex to stay with my grandfather, Standsfield, where I spent my childhood. This was the year when the plague was so widespread that 5,000 people were dying each week in London. I clearly remember the strict checkpoints and health checks we encountered on our way, and not long after, I became dangerously ill with a fever to the point that, as I’ve heard, the doctors had little hope for my recovery.
1626. My picture was drawn in oil by one Chanterell, no ill painter.
1626. My portrait was painted in oil by a guy named Chanterell, who was quite a decent artist.
1627. My grandfather, Standsfield, died this year, on the 5th of February: I remember perfectly the solemnity at his funeral. He was buried in the parish church of All Souls, where my grandmother, his second wife, erected him a pious monument. About this time, was the con[Pg 5]secration of the Church of South Malling, near Lewes, by Dr. Field, Bishop of Oxford (one Mr. Coxhall preached, who was afterward minister); the building whereof was chiefly procured by my grandfather, who having the impropriation, gave £20 a year out of it to this church. I afterward sold the impropriation. I laid one of the first stones at the building of the church.
1627. My grandfather, Standsfield, passed away this year on February 5th. I clearly remember the solemnity of his funeral. He was buried in the parish church of All Souls, where my grandmother, his second wife, put up a memorial for him. Around this time, the Church of South Malling, near Lewes, was consecrated by Dr. Field, the Bishop of Oxford (a Mr. Coxhall preached, who later became the minister). My grandfather was instrumental in getting the church built, having the impropriation, from which he donated £20 a year to this church. I later sold the impropriation. I laid one of the first stones during the construction of the church.
1628-30. It was not till the year 1628, that I was put to learn my Latin rudiments, and to write, of one Citolin, a Frenchman, in Lewes. I very well remember that general muster previous to the Isle of Rhè's expedition, and that I was one day awakened in the morning with the news of the Duke of Buckingham being slain by that wretch, Felton, after our disgrace before La Rochelle. And I now took so extraordinary a fancy to drawing and designing, that I could never after wean my inclinations from it, to the expense of much precious time, which might have been more advantageously employed. I was now put to school to one Mr. Potts, in the Cliff at Lewes, from whom, on the 7th of January, 1630, being the day after Epiphany, I went to the free-school at Southover, near the town, of which one Agnes Morley had been the foundress, and now Edward Snatt was the master, under whom I remained till I was sent to the University.6 This year, my grandmother (with whom I sojourned) being married to one Mr. Newton, a learned and most religious gentleman, we went from the Cliff to dwell at his house in Southover. I do most perfectly remember the jubilee which was universally expressed for the happy birth of the Prince of Wales, 29th of May, now Charles II., our most gracious Sovereign.
1628-30. It wasn’t until 1628 that I started learning the basics of Latin and writing from a Frenchman named Citolin in Lewes. I vividly remember the general muster before the Isle of Rhè’s expedition and waking up one morning to the news that the Duke of Buckingham had been killed by that scoundrel, Felton, after our defeat at La Rochelle. I developed such a strong passion for drawing and design that I could never shake it off, which led to many wasted hours that could have been used more productively. I began school with a Mr. Potts at the Cliff in Lewes, and on January 7, 1630, the day after Epiphany, I moved to the free school at Southover, near town, founded by one Agnes Morley, and then led by Edward Snatt, where I stayed until I was sent to the University.6 That year, my grandmother, with whom I lived, married Mr. Newton, a learned and devout gentleman, and we moved from the Cliff to his house in Southover. I clearly remember the celebration that everyone shared for the joyful birth of the Prince of Wales on May 29th, now Charles II, our most gracious Sovereign.
1631. There happened now an extraordinary dearth in England, corn bearing an excessive price; and, in imitation of what I had seen my father do, I began to observe matters more punctually, which I did use to set down in a blank almanac. The Lord of Castlehaven's arraignment for many shameful exorbitances was now all the talk, and the birth of the Princess Mary, afterward Princess of Orange.
1631. There was an unusual shortage in England, with prices for grain skyrocketing. Following my father's example, I started to pay closer attention to things, which I would write down in a blank almanac. The trial of the Lord of Castlehaven for numerous shameful acts was widely discussed, along with the birth of Princess Mary, who later became Princess of Orange.
21st October, 1632. My eldest sister was married to Edward Darcy, Esq., who little deserved so excellent a[Pg 6] person, a woman of so rare virtue. I was not present at the nuptials; but I was soon afterward sent for into Surrey, and my father would willingly have weaned me from my fondness of my too indulgent grandmother, intending to have placed me at Eton; but, not being so provident for my own benefit, and unreasonably terrified with the report of the severe discipline there, I was sent back to Lewes; which perverseness of mine I have since a thousand times deplored. This was the first time that ever my parents had seen all their children together in prosperity. While I was now trifling at home, I saw London, where I lay one night only. The next day, I dined at Beddington, where I was much delighted with the gardens and curiosities. Thence, we returned to the Lady Darcy's, at Sutton; thence to Wotton; and, on the 16th of August following, 1633, back to Lewes.
21st October, 1632. My oldest sister got married to Edward Darcy, Esq., who hardly deserved such an amazing woman, someone with such rare qualities. I wasn't there for the wedding, but I was called to Surrey soon after. My father wanted to separate me from my overly indulgent grandmother, planning to send me to Eton. However, I wasn't thinking about my own best interests and was irrationally scared of the strict discipline there, so I was sent back to Lewes. I've regretted that stubbornness a thousand times since. This was the first time my parents had all their children together in good fortune. While I was just hanging around at home, I briefly saw London, spending only one night there. The next day, I had lunch at Beddington, where I really enjoyed the gardens and curiosities. Then, we went to Lady Darcy's place at Sutton, and from there to Wotton; finally, on 16th August 1633, we returned to Lewes.
3d November, 1633. This year my father was appointed Sheriff, the last, as I think, who served in that honorable office for Surrey and Sussex, before they were disjoined. He had 116 servants in liveries, every one liveried in green satin doublets; divers gentlemen and persons of quality waited on him in the same garb and habit, which at that time (when thirty or forty was the usual retinue of the High Sheriff) was esteemed a great matter. Nor was this out of the least vanity that my father exceeded (who was one of the greatest decliners of it); but because he could not refuse the civility of his friends and relations, who voluntarily came themselves, or sent in their servants. But my father was afterward most unjustly and spitefully molested by that jeering judge, Richardson, for reprieving the execution of a woman, to gratify my Lord of Lindsey, then Admiral: but out of this he emerged with as much honor as trouble. The king made this year his progress into Scotland, and Duke James was born.
3rd November, 1633. This year, my father was appointed Sheriff, likely the last one to serve in that honorable role for Surrey and Sussex before they were separated. He had 116 servants in uniforms, all dressed in green satin doublets; several gentlemen and people of high status accompanied him in the same attire, which at that time (when a retinue of thirty or forty was typical for the High Sheriff) was considered quite impressive. This wasn't due to any vanity on my father's part (who was known for being quite humble) but rather because he couldn't turn down the kindness of his friends and family, who came themselves or sent their servants. However, my father was later unjustly and spitefully harassed by that mocking judge, Richardson, for delaying the execution of a woman, to please my Lord of Lindsey, who was the Admiral then; yet he came out of it with as much honor as he faced trouble. That year, the king made his progress into Scotland, and Duke James was born.
15th December, 1634: My dear sister, Darcy, departed this life, being arrived to her 20th year of age; in virtue advanced beyond her years, or the merit of her husband, the worst of men. She had been brought to bed the 2d of June before, but the infant died soon after her, the 24th of December. I was therefore sent for home the second time, to celebrate the obsequies of my sister; who was interred in a very honorable manner in our[Pg 7] dormitory joining to the parish church, where now her monument stands.
15th December, 1634: My dear sister, Darcy, passed away at the age of 20; she was exceptionally virtuous for her years, despite being married to the worst of men. She had given birth on June 2nd, but the baby died shortly after her, on December 24th. I was called home for the second time to mourn my sister; she was buried in a very honorable way in our[Pg 7] dormitory next to the parish church, where her monument now stands.
1635. But my dear mother being now dangerously sick, I was, on the 3d of September following, sent for to Wotton. Whom I found so far spent, that, all human assistance failing, she in a most heavenly manner departed this life upon the 29th of the same month, about eight in the evening of Michaelmas-day. It was a malignant fever which took her away, about the 37th of her age, and 22d of her marriage, to our irreparable loss and the regret of all that knew her. Certain it is, that the visible cause of her indisposition proceeded from grief upon the loss of her daughter, and the infant that followed it; and it is as certain, that when she perceived the peril whereto its excess had engaged her, she strove to compose herself and allay it; but it was too late, and she was forced to succumb. Therefore summoning all her children then living (I shall never forget it), she expressed herself in a manner so heavenly, with instructions so pious and Christian, as made us strangely sensible of the extraordinary loss then imminent; after which, embracing every one of us she gave to each a ring with her blessing and dismissed us. Then, taking my father by the hand, she recommended us to his care; and, because she was extremely zealous for the education of my younger brother, she requested my father that he might be sent with me to Lewes; and so having importuned him that what he designed to bestow on her funeral, he would rather dispose among the poor, she labored to compose herself for the blessed change which she now expected. There was not a servant in the house whom she did not expressly send for, advise, and infinitely affect with her counsel. Thus she continued to employ her intervals, either instructing her relations, or preparing of herself.
1635. But my dear mother was now seriously ill, so on September 3rd, I was called to Wotton. When I arrived, I found her so weak that, with all human help failing, she peacefully passed away on the 29th of the same month, around eight in the evening of Michaelmas Day. It was a severe fever that took her from us, at about 37 years of age and 22 years into her marriage, which left us all heartbroken and filled with regret. It's clear that her illness was largely caused by her grief over the loss of her daughter and the infant that followed, and when she realized how much her sorrow was affecting her health, she tried to calm herself and ease the pain, but it was too late, and she could do nothing but give in. So, gathering all her living children (I will never forget it), she spoke with a grace that was almost heavenly, sharing pious and Christian guidance that made us acutely aware of the great loss we were facing. After that, she embraced each of us, gave us a ring with her blessing, and then let us go. Then, taking my father's hand, she entrusted us to his care and, being especially concerned about the education of my younger brother, asked my father to send him with me to Lewes. She also urged him to give what he had planned for her funeral to the poor instead. With that, she worked to prepare herself for the blessed change she was anticipating. There wasn't a servant in the house she didn't specifically call for, advise, and deeply touch with her words. In this way, she kept busy in her remaining moments, either guiding her family or readying herself.
Though her physicians, Dr. Meverell, Dr. Clement, and Dr. Rand, had given over all hopes of her recovery, and Sir Sanders Duncombe had tried his celebrated and famous powder, yet she was many days impairing, and endured the sharpest conflicts of her sickness with admirable patience and most Christian resignation, retaining both her intellectuals and ardent affections for her dissolution, to the very article of her departure. When[Pg 8] near her dissolution, she laid her hand on every one of her children; and taking solemn leave of my father, with elevated heart and eyes, she quietly expired, and resigned her soul to God. Thus ended that prudent and pious woman, in the flower of her age, to the inconsolable affliction of her husband, irreparable loss of her children, and universal regret of all that knew her. She was interred, as near as might be, to her daughter Darcy, the 3d of October, at night, but with no mean ceremony.
Though her doctors, Dr. Meverell, Dr. Clement, and Dr. Rand, had given up all hope for her recovery, and Sir Sanders Duncombe had tried his well-known and famous powder, she spent many days getting worse. She endured the hardest battles of her illness with amazing patience and deep faith, keeping both her mind and strong love for her family right up until the moment she passed away. When[Pg 8]she was close to death, she laid her hand on each of her children and, taking a solemn farewell from my father, with a hopeful heart and uplifted eyes, she peacefully passed away and submitted her soul to God. Thus ended that wise and devout woman in the prime of her life, leaving her husband inconsolable, her children with an irreparable loss, and everyone who knew her filled with profound sorrow. She was buried as close as possible to her daughter Darcy on the night of October 3rd, with a respectful ceremony.
It was the 3d of the ensuing November, after my brother George was gone back to Oxford, ere I returned to Lewes, when I made way, according to instructions received of my father, for my brother Richard, who was sent the 12th after.
It was the 3rd of the following November, after my brother George had gone back to Oxford, when I returned to Lewes. I cleared the way, as instructed by my father, for my brother Richard, who was sent on the 12th after.
1636. This year being extremely dry, the pestilence much increased in London, and divers parts of England.
1636. This year was very dry, and the plague significantly increased in London and various parts of England.
13th February, 1637: I was especially admitted (and, as I remember, my other brother) into the Middle Temple, London, though absent, and as yet at school. There were now large contributions to the distressed Palatinates.
13th February, 1637: I was specially admitted (and, as I recall, my other brother) into the Middle Temple, London, even though I was absent and still at school. There were now significant donations being made to help the distressed Palatinates.
The 10th of December my father sent a servant to bring us necessaries, and the plague beginning now to cease, on the 3d of April, 1637, I left school, where, till about the last year, I have been extremely remiss in my studies; so as I went to the University rather out of shame of abiding longer at school, than for any fitness, as by sad experience I found: which put me to re-learn all that I had neglected, or but perfunctorily gained.
On December 10th, my father sent a servant to bring us supplies, and as the plague started to ease up, on April 3rd, 1637, I left school. Up until about the last year, I had really slacked off in my studies, so I went to the University more out of embarrassment for staying in school longer than I should have than for any real readiness, as I sadly discovered. This forced me to relearn everything I had neglected or barely grasped.
10th May, 1637. I was admitted a Fellow-commoner of Baliol College, Oxford; and, on the 29th, I was matriculated in the vestry of St. Mary's, where I subscribed the Articles, and took the oaths: Dr. Baily, head of St. John's, being vice-chancellor, afterward bishop. It appears by a letter of my father's, that he was upon treaty with one Mr. Bathurst (afterward Doctor and President), of Trinity College, who should have been my tutor; but, lest my brother's tutor, Dr. Hobbs, more zealous in his life than industrious to his pupils, should receive it as an affront, and especially for that Fellow-commoners in Baliol were no more exempt from exercise than the meanest scholars there, my father sent me thither to one Mr. George Bradshaw (nomen invisum! yet the son of an[Pg 9] excellent father, beneficed in Surrey). I ever thought my tutor had parts enough; but as his ambition made him much suspected of the College, so his grudge to Dr. Lawrence, the governor of it (whom he afterward supplanted), took up so much of his time, that he seldom or never had the opportunity to discharge his duty to his scholars. This I perceiving, associated myself with one Mr. James Thicknesse (then a young man of the foundation, afterward a Fellow of the house), by whose learned and friendly conversation I received great advantage. At my first arrival, Dr. Parkhurst was master: and after his decease, Dr. Lawrence, a chaplain of his Majesty's and Margaret Professor, succeeded, an acute and learned person; nor do I much reproach his severity, considering that the extraordinary remissness of discipline had (till his coming) much detracted from the reputation of that College.
10th May, 1637. I became a Fellow-commoner at Baliol College, Oxford. On the 29th, I registered in the vestry of St. Mary's, where I agreed to the Articles and took the oaths, with Dr. Baily, the head of St. John's, serving as vice-chancellor and later becoming a bishop. A letter from my father indicates that he was negotiating with a Mr. Bathurst (who later became a Doctor and the President) from Trinity College to be my tutor. However, to avoid offending my brother's tutor, Dr. Hobbs, who was more enthusiastic than effective with his students, and especially since Fellow-commoners at Baliol weren’t exempt from exercises like the lowest scholars, my father sent me to Mr. George Bradshaw (nomen invisum! yet the son of an excellent father beneficed in Surrey). I always thought my tutor had enough talent, but his ambition made him widely suspected within the College. His resentment toward Dr. Lawrence, the governor (whom he later replaced), consumed so much of his time that he rarely had the opportunity to fulfill his responsibilities to his students. Noticing this, I teamed up with Mr. James Thicknesse (who was then a young member of the foundation and later became a Fellow of the house), from whose knowledgeable and friendly conversations I gained a lot. When I first arrived, Dr. Parkhurst was the master, and after he passed away, Dr. Lawrence, a chaplain to the King and Margaret Professor, took over. He was clever and well-educated, and while I don't criticize his strictness too harshly, considering the laxity in discipline before his arrival had significantly harmed the College's reputation.
There came in my time to the College one Nathaniel Conopios, out of Greece, from Cyrill, the patriarch of Constantinople, who, returning many years after, was made (as I understand) Bishop of Smyrna. He was the first I ever saw drink coffee; which custom came not into England till thirty years after.7
In my time at the College, a man named Nathaniel Conopios came from Greece, sent by Cyrill, the patriarch of Constantinople. Years later, he returned and became, as far as I know, the Bishop of Smyrna. He was the first person I ever saw drink coffee, a habit that didn’t arrive in England until thirty years later.7
After I was somewhat settled there in my formalities (for then was the University exceedingly regular, under the exact discipline of William Laud, Archbishop of Canterbury, then Chancellor), I added, as benefactor to the library of the College, these books—"ex dono Johannis Evelyni, hujus Coll. Socio-Commensalis, filii Richardi Evelyni, è com. Surriæ, armigr."—
After I got a bit settled there with my formalities (at that time, the University was very strict, under the precise rule of William Laud, Archbishop of Canterbury, who was also the Chancellor), I donated these books to the College library— "ex dono Johannis Evelyni, hujus Coll. Socio-Commensalis, filii Richardi Evelyni, è com. Surriæ, armigr."—
"Zanchii Opera," vols. 1, 2, 3.
"Zanchii Opera," vols. 1, 2, 3.
"Granado in Thomam Aquinatem," vols. 1, 2, 3.
"Granado in Thomam Aquinatem," vols. 1, 2, 3.
"Novarini Electa Sacra" and "Cresolii Anthologia Sacra"; authors, it seems, much desired by the students of divinity there.
"Novarini Electa Sacra" and "Cresolii Anthologia Sacra"; authors that seem to be highly sought after by the theology students there.
Upon the 2d of July, being the first Sunday of the month, I first received the blessed Sacrament of the Lord's Supper in the college chapel, one Mr. Cooper, a Fellow of the house, preaching; and at this time was the Church of England in her greatest splendor, all things decent, and becoming the Peace, and the persons that governed.[Pg 10] The most of the following week I spent in visiting the Colleges, and several rarities of the University, which do very much affect young comers.
On July 2nd, the first Sunday of the month, I received the blessed Sacrament of the Lord's Supper for the first time in the college chapel, with Mr. Cooper, a Fellow of the house, preaching. At that time, the Church of England was at its peak, everything was proper and fitting for the Peace, and the people in charge. [Pg 10] Most of the following week, I spent visiting the Colleges and several unique attractions of the University, which really impress young newcomers.
18th July, 1637. I accompanied my eldest brother, who then quitted Oxford, into the country; and, on the 9th of August, went to visit my friends at Lewes, whence I returned the 12th to Wotton. On the 17th of September, I received the blessed Sacrament at Wotton church, and 23d of October went back to Oxford.
18th July, 1637. I went with my older brother, who was leaving Oxford, out to the countryside; and on the 9th of August, I visited my friends in Lewes, returning on the 12th to Wotton. On the 17th of September, I received the blessed Sacrament at Wotton church, and on the 23rd of October, I went back to Oxford.
5th November, 1637. I received again the Holy Communion in our college chapel, one Prouse, a Fellow (but a mad one), preaching.
5th November, 1637. I received the Holy Communion again in our college chapel, with Prouse, a Fellow (but a crazy one), preaching.
9th December, 1637. I offered at my first exercise in the Hall, and answered my opponent; and, upon the 11th following, declaimed in the chapel before the Master, Fellows, and Scholars, according to the custom. The 15th after, I first of all opposed in the Hall.
9th December, 1637. I participated in my first exercise in the Hall and responded to my opponent; then, on the 11th, I spoke in the chapel in front of the Master, Fellows, and Scholars, as was customary. On the 15th, I was the first to oppose in the Hall.
The Christmas ensuing, being at a Comedy which the gentlemen of Exeter College presented to the University, and standing, for the better advantage of seeing, upon a table in the Hall, which was near to another, in the dark, being constrained by the extraordinary press to quit my station, in leaping down to save myself I dashed my right leg with such violence against the sharp edge of the other board, as gave me a hurt which held me in cure till almost Easter, and confined me to my study.
The Christmas that followed, I was at a comedy performed by the gentlemen of Exeter College for the University. I was standing on a table in the hall for a better view, but I had to leave my spot because of the crowd. As I jumped down to protect myself, I slammed my right leg against the sharp edge of another table, injuring myself so badly that I had to recover from it until almost Easter, which kept me confined to my studies.
22d January, 1638. I would needs be admitted into the dancing and vaulting schools; of which late activity one Stokes, the master, did afterward set forth a pretty book, which was published, with many witty elogies before it.
22nd January, 1638. I wanted to be accepted into the dance and gymnastics schools; of which recent activity one Stokes, the instructor, later published a nice book, accompanied by many clever praises before it.
4th February, 1638. One Mr. Wariner preached in our chapel; and, on the 25th, Mr. Wentworth, a kinsman of the Earl of Strafford; after which followed the blessed Sacrament.
4th February, 1638. Mr. Wariner spoke in our chapel; and, on the 25th, Mr. Wentworth, a relative of the Earl of Strafford; after which we had the blessed Sacrament.
13th April, 1638. My father ordered that I should begin to manage my own expenses, which till then my tutor had done; at which I was much satisfied.
13th April, 1638. My father instructed me to start handling my own finances, which had been taken care of by my tutor until that point; I was very pleased about this.
9th July, 1638. I went home to visit my friends, and, on the 26th, with my brother and sister to Lewes, where we abode till the 31st; and thence to one Mr. Michael's, of Houghton, near Arundel, where we were very well treated; and, on the 2d of August, to Portsmouth, and thence,[Pg 11] having surveyed the fortifications (a great rarity in that blessed halcyon time in England), we passed into the Isle of Wight, to the house of my Lady Richards, in a place called Yaverland; but were turned the following day to Chichester, where, having viewed the city and fair cathedral, we returned home.
9th July, 1638. I went home to visit my friends, and on the 26th, I traveled with my brother and sister to Lewes, where we stayed until the 31st; then we went to see Mr. Michael at Houghton, near Arundel, where we were treated very well. On the 2nd of August, we headed to Portsmouth, and then, [Pg 11] after checking out the fortifications (which was quite rare in that peaceful time in England), we moved on to the Isle of Wight, to visit Lady Richards at a place called Yaverland. However, we were sent back the next day to Chichester, where we explored the city and its beautiful cathedral before returning home.
About the beginning of September, I was so afflicted with a quartan ague, that I could by no means get rid of it till the December following. This was the fatal year wherein the rebellious Scots opposed the King, upon the pretense of the introduction of some new ceremonies and the Book of Common Prayer, and madly began our confusions, and their own destruction, too, as it proved in event.
About the beginning of September, I was so sick with a quartan fever that I couldn’t shake it off until December. This was the tragic year when the rebellious Scots went against the King, claiming it was because of some new ceremonies and the Book of Common Prayer. They foolishly started our chaos and their own downfall, as later became clear.
14th January, 1639. I came back to Oxford, after my tedious indisposition, and to the infinite loss of my time; and now I began to look upon the rudiments of music, in which I afterward arrived to some formal knowledge, though to small perfection of hand, because I was so frequently diverted with inclinations to newer trifles.
14th January, 1639. I returned to Oxford after my long sickness, which wasted so much of my time; and now I started to study the basics of music, in which I later gained some formal knowledge, although I didn't get very good at it since I was often distracted by a desire for newer interests.
20th May, 1639. Accompanied with one Mr. J. Crafford (who afterward being my fellow-traveler in Italy, there changed his religion), I took a journey of pleasure to see the Somersetshire baths, Bristol, Cirencester, Malmesbury, Abington, and divers other towns of lesser note; and returned the 25th.
20th May, 1639. Accompanied by a guy named Mr. J. Crafford (who later became my travel buddy in Italy and changed his religion there), I went on a pleasure trip to visit the Somersetshire baths, Bristol, Cirencester, Malmesbury, Abington, and several other smaller towns; and I returned on the 25th.
8th October, 1639. I went back to Oxford.
8th October, 1639. I returned to Oxford.
14th December, 1639. According to injunctions from the Heads of Colleges, I went (among the rest) to the Confirmation at St. Mary's, where, after sermon, the Bishop of Oxford laid his hands upon us, with the usual form of benediction prescribed: but this received (I fear) for the more part out of curiosity, rather than with that due preparation and advice which had been requisite, could not be so effectual as otherwise that admirable and useful institution might have been, and as I have since deplored it.
14th December, 1639. Following the instructions from the Heads of Colleges, I attended the Confirmation at St. Mary's, where, after the sermon, the Bishop of Oxford laid his hands on us, using the standard form of blessing. However, this was received, I’m afraid, mostly out of curiosity rather than the proper preparation and reflection that was necessary, which meant it wasn’t as impactful as that great and beneficial ceremony could have been, and that’s something I’ve lamented since then.
21st January, 1640. Came my brother, Richard, from school, to be my chamber-fellow at the University. He was admitted the next day and matriculated the 31st.
21st January, 1640. My brother, Richard, came home from school to be my roommate at the University. He got admitted the next day and officially enrolled on the 31st.
11th April, 1640. I went to London to see the solemnity of his Majesty's riding through the city in state to the Short Parliament, which began the 13th following,—a very[Pg 12] glorious and magnificent sight, the King circled with his royal diadem and the affections of his people: but the day after I returned to Wotton again, where I stayed, my father's indisposition suffering great intervals, till April 27th, when I was sent to London to be first resident at the Middle Temple: so as my being at the University, in regard of these avocations, was of very small benefit to me. Upon May the 5th following, was the Parliament unhappily dissolved; and, on the 20th I returned with my brother George to Wotton, who, on the 28th of the same month, was married at Albury to Mrs. Caldwell (an heiress of an ancient Leicestershire family, where part of the nuptials were celebrated).
11th April, 1640. I went to London to witness the grandeur of the King parading through the city in a formal procession to the Short Parliament, which started on the 13th. It was a truly glorious and magnificent sight, the King crowned and surrounded by the affection of his people. The next day, I returned to Wotton, where I stayed because my father was often unwell until April 27th, when I was sent to London to begin my residency at the Middle Temple. My time at the University was not very beneficial due to these interruptions. On May 5th, the Parliament was unfortunately dissolved, and on the 20th, I returned to Wotton with my brother George, who got married on the 28th of that month at Albury to Mrs. Caldwell, an heiress from an old Leicestershire family, where part of the wedding was celebrated.
10th June, 1640. I repaired with my brother to the term, to go into our new lodgings (that were formerly in Essex-court), being a very handsome apartment just over against the Hall-court, but four pair of stairs high, which gave us the advantage of the fairer prospect; but did not much contribute to the love of that impolished study, to which (I suppose) my father had designed me, when he paid £145 to purchase our present lives, and assignments afterward.
10th June, 1640. My brother and I went to the term to move into our new place (which was previously in Essex-court), a really nice apartment right across from Hall-court. It was on the fourth floor, which gave us a better view, but it didn't help much with my enthusiasm for the unrefined study my father had in mind for me when he spent £145 to secure our lives and the assignments afterward.
London, and especially the Court, were at this period in frequent disorders, and great insolences were committed by the abused and too happy City: in particular, the Bishop of Canterbury's Palace at Lambeth was assaulted by a rude rabble from Southwark, my Lord Chamberlain imprisoned and many scandalous libels and invectives scattered about the streets, to the reproach of Government, and the fermentation of our since distractions: so that, upon the 25th of June, I was sent for to Wotton, and the 27th after, my father's indisposition augmenting, by advice of the physicians he repaired to the Bath.
London, especially the Court, was experiencing frequent chaos during this time, and the city, which had been misused and was too pleased with itself, was committing serious offenses. Specifically, the Bishop of Canterbury's Palace at Lambeth was attacked by a rowdy mob from Southwark, my Lord Chamberlain was imprisoned, and many scandalous pamphlets and insults were spread throughout the streets, leading to public shame for the Government and stirring up the troubles we've dealt with since. So, on June 25th, I was called to Wotton, and two days later, as my father's health worsened, the doctors advised him to go to the Bath.
7th July, 1640. My brother George and I, understanding the peril my father was in upon a sudden attack of his infirmity, rode post from Guildford toward him, and found him extraordinary weak; yet so as that, continuing his course, he held out till the 8th of September, when I returned home with him in his litter.
7th July, 1640. My brother George and I, realizing the danger our father was in from a sudden health issue, rode quickly from Guildford to see him, and found him extremely weak; however, he managed to hang on until the 8th of September, when I took him back home in his litter.
15th October, 1640. I went to the Temple, it being Michaelmas Term.
15th October, 1640. I went to the Temple, since it was Michaelmas Term.
30th December, 1640. I saw his Majesty (coming from[Pg 13] his Northern Expedition) ride in pomp and a kind of ovation, with all the marks of a happy peace, restored to the affections of his people, being conducted through London with a most splendid cavalcade; and on the 3d of November following (a day never to be mentioned without a curse), to that long ungrateful, foolish, and fatal Parliament, the beginning of all our sorrows for twenty years after, and the period of the most happy monarch in the world: Quis talia fando!
30th December, 1640. I saw His Majesty (returning from[Pg 13] his Northern Expedition) riding in splendor and receiving a sort of celebration, with all the signs of a joyful peace, restored to the love of his people, being escorted through London with a magnificent parade; and on the 3rd of November that followed (a day that shouldn’t be mentioned without a curse), to that long ungrateful, foolish, and disastrous Parliament, which was the start of all our sorrows for twenty years afterward, and the end of the happiest monarch in the world: Quis talia fando!
But my father being by this time entered into a dropsy, an indisposition the most unsuspected, being a person so exemplarily temperate, and of admirable regimen, hastened me back to Wotton, December the 12th; where, the 24th following, between twelve and one o'clock at noon, departed this life that excellent man and indulgent parent, retaining his senses and piety to the last, which he most tenderly expressed in blessing us, whom he now left to the world and the worst of times, while he was taken from the evil to come.
But by this time, my father had developed a dropsy, an unexpected ailment, considering he was such a remarkably moderate person with an admirable lifestyle. This caused me to hurry back to Wotton on December 12. Then, on the 24th, between twelve and one o'clock in the afternoon, that amazing man and caring parent passed away. He kept his senses and faith until the end, which he expressed with great love by blessing us, the ones he was leaving behind in a troubled world, as he was taken away from the troubles to come.
1641. It was a sad and lugubrious beginning of the year, when on the 2d of January, 1640-1, we at night followed the mourning hearse to the church at Wotton; when, after a sermon and funeral oration by the minister, my father was interred near his formerly erected monument, and mingled with the ashes of our mother, his dear wife. Thus we were bereft of both our parents in a period when we most of all stood in need of their counsel and assistance, especially myself, of a raw, vain, uncertain, and very unwary inclination: but so it pleased God to make trial of my conduct in a conjuncture of the greatest and most prodigious hazard that ever the youth of England saw; and, if I did not amidst all this impeach my liberty nor my virtue with the rest who made shipwreck of both, it was more the infinite goodness and mercy of God than the least providence or discretion of mine own, who now thought of nothing but the pursuit of vanity, and the confused imaginations of young men.
1641. It was a sad and gloomy start to the year when, on the night of January 2, 1640-1, we followed the mourning hearse to the church in Wotton. After a sermon and eulogy by the minister, my father was buried near the monument he had built, and he was laid to rest with the ashes of my mother, his beloved wife. We lost both our parents at a time when we needed their guidance and support the most, especially me, as I was young, vain, unsure, and quite naïve. But God chose this moment to test my character during a time of tremendous danger that no young person in England had ever experienced before. If I managed to avoid losing my freedom and virtue, unlike many who crashed and burned, it was due more to the boundless goodness and mercy of God than to any foresight or wisdom of my own, as I was then preoccupied with chasing after vanity and the chaotic thoughts of youth.
15th April, 1641. I repaired to London to hear and see the famous trial of the Earl of Strafford, Lord-Deputy of Ireland, who, on the 22d of March, had been summoned before both Houses of Parliament, and now appeared in[Pg 14] Westminster-hall,8 which was prepared with scaffolds for the Lords and Commons, who, together with the King, Queen, Prince, and flower of the noblesse, were spectators and auditors of the greatest malice and the greatest innocency that ever met before so illustrous an assembly. It was Thomas, Earl of Arundel and Surrey, Earl Marshal of England, who was made High Steward upon this occasion; and the sequel is too well known to need any notice of the event.
15th April, 1641. I went to London to witness the famous trial of the Earl of Strafford, the Lord Deputy of Ireland, who had been summoned before both Houses of Parliament on the 22nd of March and was now appearing in[Pg 14]Westminster Hall,8 which was set up with scaffolds for the Lords and Commons, who, along with the King, Queen, Prince, and the elite of the nobility, were there to observe the greatest act of malice and the greatest act of innocence that had ever taken place before such a distinguished assembly. It was Thomas, Earl of Arundel and Surrey, the Earl Marshal of England, who was appointed as High Steward for this occasion; and the outcome is too well known to require any mention.
On the 27th of April, came over out of Holland the young Prince of Orange, with a splendid equipage, to make love to his Majesty's eldest daughter, the now Princess Royal.
On April 27th, the young Prince of Orange arrived from Holland in a lavish carriage to court His Majesty's eldest daughter, now the Princess Royal.
That evening, was celebrated the pompous funeral of the Duke of Richmond, who was carried in effigy, with all the ensigns of that illustrious family, in an open chariot, in great solemnity, through London to Westminster Abbey.
That evening, they held a grand funeral for the Duke of Richmond, who was transported in effigy, along with all the symbols of that distinguished family, in an open carriage, with great solemnity, through London to Westminster Abbey.
On the 12th of May, I beheld on Tower-hill the fatal stroke which severed the wisest head in England from the shoulders of the Earl of Strafford, whose crime coming under the cognizance of no human law or statute, a new one was made, not to be a precedent, but his destruction. With what reluctancy the King signed the execution, he has sufficiently expressed; to which he imputes his own unjust suffering—to such exorbitancy were things arrived.
On May 12th, I witnessed on Tower Hill the deadly blow that took the wisest head in England from the shoulders of the Earl of Strafford. His crime fell outside the reach of any human law or statute, so a new law was created, not as a precedent but solely for his downfall. The King has made it clear how reluctantly he signed the execution order, attributing his own unjust suffering to how extreme the situation had become.
On the 24th of May, I returned to Wotton; and, on the 28th of June, I went to London with my sister, Jane, and the day after sat to one Vanderborcht for my picture in oil, at Arundel-house, whose servant that excellent painter was, brought out of Germany when the Earl returned from Vienna (whither he was sent Ambassador-extraordinary, with great pomp and charge, though with[Pg 15]out any effect, through the artifice of the Jesuited Spaniard who governed all in that conjuncture). With Vanderborcht, the painter, he brought over Winceslaus Hollar, the sculptor, who engraved not only the unhappy Deputy's trial in Westminster-hall, but his decapitation; as he did several other historical things, then relating to the accidents happening during the Rebellion in England, with great skill; besides many cities, towns, and landscapes, not only of this nation, but of foreign parts, and divers portraits of famous persons then in being; and things designed from the best pieces of the rare paintings and masters of which the Earl of Arundel was possessor, purchased and collected in his travels with incredible expense: so as, though Hollar's were but etched in aquafortis, I account the collection to be the most authentic and useful extant. Hollar was the son of a gentleman near Prague, in Bohemia, and my very good friend, perverted at last by the Jesuits at Antwerp to change his religion; a very honest, simple, well-meaning man, who at last came over again into England, where he died. We have the whole history of the king's reign, from his trial in Westminster-hall and before, to the restoration of King Charles II., represented in several sculptures, with that also of Archbishop Laud, by this indefatigable artist; besides innumerable sculptures in the works of Dugdale, Ashmole, and other historical and useful works. I am the more particular upon this for the fruit of that collection, which I wish I had entire.
On May 24th, I went back to Wotton; and on June 28th, I traveled to London with my sister, Jane. The next day, I sat for a portrait in oil by Vanderborcht at Arundel House. His servant, an excellent painter, had been brought from Germany when the Earl returned from Vienna. The Earl had been sent there as an extraordinary ambassador, impressively and expensively, but with no results, thanks to the manipulations of the Jesuit Spaniard who was in control at that time. Vanderborcht came with Winceslaus Hollar, the sculptor, who not only engraved the unfortunate Deputy's trial in Westminster Hall but also his execution; he documented several other historical events related to the chaos during the English Rebellion with great skill. He also captured many towns, cities, and landscapes not only from this country but from abroad, as well as various portraits of notable people from that time and pieces inspired by the finest works of art that the Earl of Arundel collected during his travels at great expense. Even though Hollar's works were etched in aquafortis, I believe the collection is the most authentic and valuable that exists. Hollar was the son of a gentleman near Prague in Bohemia and became a good friend of mine, though he was ultimately swayed by the Jesuits in Antwerp to change his religion. He was a sincere, kind-hearted man who eventually returned to England, where he passed away. We have a complete history of the king's reign, from his trial in Westminster Hall up to the restoration of King Charles II., depicted in various sculptures, including that of Archbishop Laud, all created by this tireless artist. There are countless sculptures in the works of Dugdale, Ashmole, and other historical and useful texts. I'm particularly focused on this due to the value of that collection, which I wish I had in its entirety.
This picture9 I presented to my sister, being at her request, on my resolution to absent myself from this ill face of things at home, which gave umbrage to wiser than myself that the medal was reversing, and our calamities but yet in their infancy: so that, on the 15th of July, having procured a pass at the Custom-house, where I repeated my oath of allegiance, I went from London to Gravesend, accompanied with one Mr. Caryll, a Surrey gentleman, and our servants, where we arrived by six o'clock that evening, with a purpose to take the first opportunity of a passage for Holland. But the wind as yet not favorable, we had time to view the Block-house of that town, which answered to another over against it[Pg 16] at Tilbury, famous for the rendezvous of Queen Elizabeth, in the year 1588, which we found stored with twenty pieces of cannon, and other ammunition proportionable. On the 19th of July, we made a short excursion to Rochester, and having seen the cathedral went to Chatham to see the Royal Sovereign, a glorious vessel of burden lately built there, being for defense and ornament, the richest that ever spread cloth before the wind. She carried an hundred brass cannon, and was 1,200 tons; a rare sailer, the work of the famous Phineas Pett, inventor of the frigate-fashion of building, to this day practiced. But what is to be deplored as to this vessel is, that it cost his Majesty the affections of his subjects, perverted by the malcontent of great ones, who took occasion to quarrel for his having raised a very slight tax for the building of this, and equipping the rest of the navy, without an act of Parliament; though, by the suffrages of the major part of the Judges the King might legally do in times of imminent danger, of which his Majesty was best apprised. But this not satisfying a jealous party, it was condemned as unprecedented, and not justifiable as to the Royal prerogative; and, accordingly, the Judges were removed out of their places, fined, and imprisoned.10
This picture9 I showed to my sister at her request, as I decided to leave behind the troubling situation at home, which concerned those wiser than me who believed that times were turning for the worse and our troubles were just beginning. So, on July 15th, after getting a pass at the Custom-house, where I swore my oath of allegiance again, I traveled from London to Gravesend, accompanied by Mr. Caryll, a gentleman from Surrey, along with our servants. We arrived by six o'clock that evening, intending to take the first opportunity to cross to Holland. However, since the wind wasn’t favorable yet, we had time to explore the Block-house in that town, which was opposite another one across at Tilbury, famous for being the meeting point of Queen Elizabeth in 1588. We found it armed with twenty pieces of cannon and other suitable ammunition. On July 19th, we made a brief trip to Rochester, where we saw the cathedral before heading to Chatham to see the Royal Sovereign, an impressive warship recently built there, meant for both defense and display, the finest ship ever to sail. She carried one hundred brass cannons and weighed 1,200 tons; she was a remarkable vessel, the creation of the famous Phineas Pett, who invented the frigate-style construction still used today. However, it’s sad that this ship cost the King the loyalty of his subjects, influenced by the discontent of powerful individuals, who took issue with him for imposing a very minor tax to fund its construction and equip the rest of the navy without an act of Parliament. Although the majority of the Judges agreed that the King had the legal right to do so in times of crisis, which he was best aware of, that didn’t satisfy a suspicious faction, and it was deemed unprecedented and unjustifiable regarding the Royal prerogative. Consequently, the Judges were removed from their positions, fined, and imprisoned.10
We returned again this evening, and on the 21st of July embarked in a Dutch frigate, bound for Flushing, convoyed and accompanied by five other stout vessels, whereof one was a man-of-war. The next day at noon, we landed at Flushing.
We came back again this evening, and on July 21st, we boarded a Dutch frigate heading to Flushing, protected and accompanied by five other sturdy ships, including one warship. The next day at noon, we arrived in Flushing.
Being desirous to overtake the Leagure,11 which was then before Genep, ere the summer should be too far spent, we went this evening from Flushing to Middleburg, another fine town in this island, to De Vere, whence the most ancient and illustrious Earls of Oxford derive their family, who have spent so much blood in assisting the state during their wars. From De Vere we passed[Pg 17] over many towns, houses, and ruins of demolished suburbs, etc., which have formerly been swallowed up by the sea; at what time no less than eight of those islands had been irrecoverably lost.
Eager to catch up with the League,11 that was ahead of us in Genep before summer got too late, we traveled this evening from Flushing to Middleburg, another lovely town on this island. We visited De Vere, the ancestral home of the most ancient and distinguished Earls of Oxford, who have dedicated so much of their lives to supporting the state during their wars. From De Vere, we went through many towns, houses, and the ruins of neighborhoods that had previously been submerged by the sea; at one point, no less than eight of those islands had been permanently lost.
The next day we arrived at Dort, the first town of Holland, furnished with all German commodities, and especially Rhenish wines and timber. It hath almost at the extremity a very spacious and venerable church; a stately senate house, wherein was holden that famous synod against the Arminians in 1618; and in that hall hangeth a picture of "The Passion," an exceeding rare and much-esteemed piece.
The next day we arrived in Dort, the first town in Holland, stocked with all kinds of German goods, especially Rhenish wines and timber. Almost at the edge of town stands a very large and impressive church; a grand town hall, where that famous synod against the Arminians was held in 1618; and in that hall hangs a painting of "The Passion," which is an extremely rare and highly regarded piece.
From Dort, being desirous to hasten toward the army, I took wagon this afternoon to Rotterdam, whither we were hurried in less than an hour, though it be ten miles distant; so furiously do those Foremen drive. I went first to visit the great church, the Doole, the Bourse, and the public statue of the learned Erasmus, of brass. They showed us his house, or rather the mean cottage, wherein he was born, over which there are extant these lines, in capital letters:
From Dort, eager to rush toward the army, I took a wagon this afternoon to Rotterdam, where we arrived in less than an hour, even though it's ten miles away; those drivers really go fast. I first visited the great church, the Doole, the Bourse, and the public statue of the renowned Erasmus, made of brass. They showed us his house, or rather the humble cottage where he was born, above which there are these lines in big letters:
ÆDIBUS HIS ORTUS, MUNDUM DECORAVIT ERASMUS
ÆDIBUS HIS ORTUS, MUNDUM DECORAVIT ERASMUS
The 26th of July I passed by a straight and commodious river through Delft to the Hague; in which journey I observed divers leprous poor creatures dwelling in solitary huts on the brink of the water, and permitted to ask the charity of passengers, which is conveyed to them in a floating box that they cast out.
On July 26th, I traveled along a straight, comfortable river from Delft to The Hague. During this journey, I noticed several leprous individuals living in isolated huts by the water, who were allowed to ask for charity from passersby. This charity is given to them in a floating box that they send out.
Arrived at the Hague, I went first to the Queen of Bohemia's court, where I had the honor to kiss her Majesty's hand, and several of the Princesses', her daughters. Prince Maurice was also there, newly come out of Germany; and my Lord Finch, not long before fled out of England from the fury of the Parliament. It was a fasting day with the Queen for the unfortunate death of her husband, and the presence chamber had been hung with black velvet ever since his decease.
Arriving in The Hague, I first went to the court of the Queen of Bohemia, where I had the honor of kissing her Majesty’s hand, as well as several of her daughters, the Princesses. Prince Maurice was also present, just back from Germany; and my Lord Finch had recently escaped from England to avoid the wrath of Parliament. It was a day of fasting for the Queen because of the sad death of her husband, and the presence chamber had been draped in black velvet since his passing.
The 28th of July I went to Leyden; and the 29th to Utrecht, being thirty English miles distant (as they reckon by hours). It was now Kermas, or a fair, in this[Pg 18] town, the streets swarming with boors and rudeness, so that early the next morning, having visited the ancient Bishop's court, and the two famous churches, I satisfied my curiosity till my return, and better leisure. We then came to Rynen, where the Queen of Bohemia hath a neat and well built palace, or country house, after the Italian manner, as I remember; and so, crossing the Rhine, upon which this villa is situated, lodged that night in a countryman's house. The 31st to Nimeguen; and on the 2d of August we arrived at the Leagure, where was then the whole army encamped about Genep, a very strong castle situated on the river Waal; but, being taken four or five days before, we had only a sight of the demolitions. The next Sunday was the thanksgiving sermons performed in Colonel Goring's regiment (eldest son of the since Earl of Norwich) by Mr. Goffe, his chaplain (now turned Roman, and father-confessor to the Queen-mother). The evening was spent in firing cannon and other expressions of military triumphs.
On July 28th, I went to Leyden; and on the 29th to Utrecht, which is thirty English miles away (as they measure by hours). It was Kermis, or a fair, in this town, with the streets crowded with farmers and rough crowds, so that early the next morning, after visiting the ancient Bishop's court and the two famous churches, I satisfied my curiosity until my return when I had more time. We then went to Rynen, where the Queen of Bohemia has a nice, well-built palace or country house, in the Italian style, if I remember correctly; and then, crossing the Rhine, where this villa is located, we spent the night in a farmer's house. On the 31st, we went to Nimeguen; and on August 2nd, we arrived at the Leagure, where the whole army was camped around Genep, a very strong castle on the river Waal; however, since it had been taken four or five days earlier, we could only see the destruction. The following Sunday, thanksgiving sermons were held in Colonel Goring's regiment (the eldest son of what is now the Earl of Norwich) by Mr. Goffe, his chaplain (who is now a Roman Catholic and the father-confessor to the Queen-mother). The evening was spent firing cannons and other displays of military triumph.
Now, according to the compliment, I was received a volunteer in the company of Captain Apsley, of whose Captain-lieutenant, Honywood (Apsley being absent), I received many civilities.
Now, based on the compliment, I was welcomed as a volunteer in Captain Apsley's company, and I received many kind gestures from his captain-lieutenant, Honywood, since Apsley was absent.
The 3d of August, at night, we rode about the lines of circumvallation, the general being then in the field. The next day I was accommodated with a very spacious and commodious tent for my lodging; as before I was with a horse, which I had at command, and a hut which during the excessive heats was a great convenience; for the sun piercing the canvas of the tent, it was during the day unsufferable, and at night not seldom infested with mists and fogs, which ascended from the river.
On the night of August 3rd, we patrolled the fortifications while the general was out in the field. The following day, I was given a large and comfortable tent to stay in; previously, I had been with a horse that I could use, along with a hut that was a great help during the extreme heat. The sun would often penetrate the tent’s fabric, making it unbearable during the day, and at night, it was frequently bothered by mists and fogs that came up from the river.
6th August, 1641. As the turn came about, we were ordered to watch on a horn-work near our quarters, and trail a pike, being the next morning relieved by a company of French. This was our continual duty till the castle was refortified, and all danger of quitting that station secured; whence I went to see a Convent of Franciscan Friars, not far from our quarters, where we found both the chapel and refectory full, crowded with the goods of such poor people as at the approach of the army had fled with them thither for sanctuary. On the day following, I went to view all the trenches, approaches, and mines, etc. of the[Pg 19] besiegers; and, in particular, I took special notice of the wheel-bridge, which engine his Excellency had made to run over the moat when they stormed the castle; as it is since described (with all the other particulars of this siege) by the author of that incomparable work, "Hollandia Illustrata." The walls and ramparts of earth, which a mine had broken and crumbled, were of prodigious thickness.
6th August, 1641. As the shift came around, we were ordered to keep watch on a horn-work near our barracks and carry a pike, with a company of French soldiers relieving us the next morning. This was our ongoing duty until the castle was refortified, securing our position from any danger. I then went to visit a convent of Franciscan Friars, not far from our quarters, where we found the chapel and dining hall packed with belongings from poor people who had fled there for safety as the army approached. The next day, I went to inspect all the trenches, approaches, and mines, etc. of the[Pg 19] besiegers; in particular, I took special note of the wheel-bridge, which his Excellency had constructed to cross the moat when they attacked the castle, as later described (along with all the other details of this siege) by the author of that remarkable work, "Hollandia Illustrata." The walls and earth ramparts, which had been breached and collapsed by a mine, were incredibly thick.
Upon the 8th of August, I dined in the horse-quarters with Sir Robert Stone and his lady, Sir William Stradling, and divers Cavaliers; where there was very good cheer, but hot service for a young drinker, as then I was; so that, being pretty well satisfied with the confusion of armies and sieges (if such that of the United Provinces may be called, where their quarters and encampments are so admirably regular, and orders so exactly observed, as few cities, the best governed in time of peace, exceed it for all conveniences), I took my leave of the Leagure and Camerades; and, on the 12th of August, I embarked on the "Waal," in company with three grave divines, who entertained us a great part of our passage with a long dispute concerning the lawfulness of church-music. We now sailed by Teil, where we landed some of our freight; and about five o'clock we touched at a pretty town named Bommell, that had divers English in garrison. It stands upon Contribution-land, which subjects the environs to the Spanish incursions. We sailed also by an exceeding strong fort called Lovestein, famous for the escape of the learned Hugo Grotius, who, being in durance as a capital offender, as was the unhappy Barneveldt, by the stratagem of his lady, was conveyed in a trunk supposed to be filled with books only. We lay at Gorcum, a very strong and considerable frontier.
On August 8th, I had dinner in the horse quarters with Sir Robert Stone and his wife, Sir William Stradling, and several other gentlemen; the food was great, but it was quite a challenge for a young drinker like me. I was pretty satisfied with the chaos of the armies and sieges (if you can call that of the United Provinces a siege, where their camps and setup are so impressively orderly and the rules are followed so precisely that few well-governed cities in peacetime can match their conveniences). I said goodbye to the League and comrades; then, on August 12th, I boarded the "Waal," along with three serious ministers, who kept us entertained for much of the journey with a long debate about the legitimacy of church music. We sailed past Teil, where we unloaded some cargo; around five o'clock, we stopped at a charming town called Bommell, which had several English soldiers stationed there. It’s located on Contribution-land, which exposes the area to Spanish attacks. We also passed a very strong fort called Lovestein, known for the escape of the renowned Hugo Grotius, who, while imprisoned as a capital offender like the unfortunate Barneveldt, was smuggled out by his wife in a trunk that was thought to be filled only with books. We stayed at Gorcum, a very strong and significant frontier.
13th August, 1641. We arrived late at Rotterdam, where was their annual mart or fair, so furnished with pictures (especially landscapes and drolleries, as they call those clownish representations), that I was amazed. Some of these I bought and sent into England. The reason of this store of pictures, and their cheapness, proceeds from their want of land to employ their stock, so that it is an ordinary thing to find a common farmer lay out two or three thousand pounds in this commodity. Their houses are full of them, and they vend them at their fairs to very great gains. Here I first saw an elephant, who was[Pg 20] extremely well disciplined and obedient. It was a beast of a monstrous size, yet as flexible and nimble in the joints, contrary to the vulgar tradition, as could be imagined from so prodigious a bulk and strange fabric; but I most of all admired the dexterity and strength of its proboscis, on which it was able to support two or three men, and by which it took and reached whatever was offered to it; its teeth were but short, being a female, and not old. I was also shown a pelican, or onocratulas of Pliny, with its large gullets, in which he kept his reserve of fish; the plumage was white, legs red, flat, and film-footed, likewise a cock with four legs, two rumps and vents: also a hen which had two large spurs growing out of her sides, penetrating the feathers of her wings.
13th August, 1641. We arrived late in Rotterdam, where their annual fair was taking place, filled with paintings (especially landscapes and humorous caricatures, as they call those silly representations) that left me amazed. I bought some of these and sent them back to England. The reason for the abundance and low prices of these artworks comes from their lack of land to invest their resources, making it common for an ordinary farmer to spend two or three thousand pounds on this type of item. Their homes are full of these pieces, and they sell them at their fairs for significant profits. Here, I saw an elephant for the first time; it was extremely well-trained and obedient. It was a beast of enormous size, yet surprisingly flexible and nimble in its joints, contrary to popular belief about such a large creature. But what impressed me the most was the skill and strength of its trunk, which could support two or three men and could grasp and reach for anything offered to it. Its teeth were short because it was a female, and not old. I was also shown a pelican, or onocratulas from Pliny, with its large gullet for storing fish; its feathers were white, its legs red, flat, and webbed. There was also a rooster with four legs and two rumps, as well as a hen that had two large spurs growing out of her sides, piercing through the feathers of her wings.
17th August, 1641. I passed again through Delft, and visited the church in which was the monument of Prince William of Nassau,—the first of the Williams, and savior (as they call him) of their liberty, which cost him his life by a vile assassination. It is a piece of rare art, consisting of several figures, as big as the life, in copper. There is in the same place a magnificent tomb of his son and successor, Maurice. The senate-house hath a very stately portico, supported with choice columns of black marble, as I remember, of one entire stone. Within, there hangs a weighty vessel of wood, not unlike a butter-churn, which the adventurous woman that hath two husbands at one time is to wear on her shoulders, her head peeping out at the top only, and so led about the town, as a penance for her incontinence. From hence, we went the next day to Ryswick, a stately country-house of the Prince of Orange, for nothing more remarkable than the delicious walks planted with lime trees, and the modern paintings within.
17th August, 1641. I passed through Delft again and visited the church that has the monument of Prince William of Nassau—the first William, and the so-called savior of their liberty, which cost him his life due to a vile assassination. It’s a remarkable piece of art, featuring several life-sized figures made of copper. In the same place, there’s a magnificent tomb for his son and successor, Maurice. The senate house has an impressive portico supported by beautifully crafted columns of black marble, as I recall, made from single pieces. Inside, there’s a heavy wooden vessel, somewhat like a butter churn, which the adventurous woman who has two husbands at once is supposed to wear on her shoulders, with her head sticking out at the top, and she’s led around the town as punishment for her infidelity. From there, we went the next day to Ryswick, a grand country house of the Prince of Orange, notable mainly for the lovely pathways lined with lime trees and the modern paintings inside.
19th August, 1641. We returned to the Hague, and went to visit the Hoff, or Prince's Court, with the adjoining gardens full of ornament, close walks, statues, marbles, grots, fountains, and artificial music. There is to this palace a stately hall, not much inferior to ours of Westminster, hung round with colors and other trophies taken from the Spaniards;12 and the sides below are furnished with[Pg 21] shops. Next day (the 20th) I returned to Delft, thence to Rotterdam, the Hague, and Leyden, where immediately I mounted a wagon, which that night, late as it was, brought us to Haerlem. AMSTERDAMAbout seven in the morning after I came to Amsterdam, where being provided with a lodging, the first thing I went to see was a Synagogue of the Jews (being Saturday), whose ceremonies, ornaments, lamps, law, and schools, afforded matter for my contemplation. The women were secluded from the men, being seated in galleries above, shut with lattices, having their heads muffled with linen, after a fantastical and somewhat extraordinary fashion; the men, wearing a large calico mantle, yellow colored, over their hats, all the while waving their bodies, while at their devotions. From thence, I went to a place without the town, called Overkirk, where they have a spacious field assigned them to bury their dead, full of sepulchers with Hebraic inscriptions, some of them stately and costly. Looking through one of these monuments, where the stones were disjointed, I perceived divers books and papers lie about a corpse; for it seems, when any learned Rabbi dies, they bury some of his books with him. With the help of a stick, I raked out several, written in Hebrew characters, but much impaired. As we returned, we stepped in to see the Spin-house, a kind of bridewell, where incorrigible and lewd women are kept in discipline and labor, but all neat. We were shown an hospital for poor travelers and pilgrims, built by Queen Elizabeth of England; and another maintained by the city.
19th August, 1641. We returned to The Hague and visited the Hoff, or Prince's Court, along with the beautifully landscaped gardens filled with paths, statues, marble, grottos, fountains, and even some artificial music. This palace has a grand hall that is not much less impressive than Westminster, decorated with colors and other trophies taken from the Spaniards; 12 and the lower sides are lined with[Pg 21] shops. The next day (the 20th), I went back to Delft, then to Rotterdam, The Hague, and Leiden, where I immediately got onto a wagon that took us to Haarlem late that night. AMSTERDAMAbout seven in the morning after I arrived in Amsterdam, where I found a place to stay, the first thing I went to see was a synagogue of the Jews (it being Saturday). The ceremonies, decorations, lamps, laws, and schools there provided plenty for my reflection. The women were separated from the men, sitting in galleries above, enclosed with latticework, with their heads wrapped in linen in a rather unusual way; the men wore large yellow calico mantles over their hats, all the while swaying their bodies during their prayers. From there, I went to a place outside the town called Overkirk, which has a large field designated for their dead, filled with tombs bearing Hebrew inscriptions, some of which are grand and expensive. Looking through one of these monuments, where the stones were askew, I noticed various books and papers scattered around a corpse; it seems that when a learned Rabbi dies, they bury some of his books with him. With the help of a stick, I pulled out several, written in Hebrew characters, though they were quite damaged. On our way back, we stopped to see the Spin-house, a type of bridewell where unruly and immoral women are kept in discipline and labor, all in a tidy manner. We were shown a hospital for poor travelers and pilgrims built by Queen Elizabeth of England, and another one maintained by the city.
The State or Senate-house of this town, if the design be perfected, will be one of the most costly and magnificent pieces of architecture in Europe, especially for the materials and the carvings. In the Doole is painted, on a very large table, the bust of Marie de Medicis, supported by four royal diadems, the work of one Vanderdall, who hath set his name thereon, 1st September, 1638.
The town's State or Senate house, if completed as planned, will be one of the most expensive and stunning architectural pieces in Europe, particularly because of its materials and carvings. In the Doole, there’s a large painting of Marie de Medicis's bust, held up by four royal crowns, created by an artist named Vanderdall, who signed it on September 1, 1638.
On Sunday, I heard an English sermon at the Presbyterian congregation, where they had chalked upon a slate the psalms that were to be sung, so that all the congregation might see them without the bidding of a clerk. I was told, that after such an age no minister was permitted to preach, but had his maintenance continued during life.[Pg 22]
On Sunday, I listened to an English sermon at the Presbyterian church, where they wrote the psalms to be sung on a slate so that everyone in the congregation could see them without needing a clerk's assistance. I was informed that after a certain age, no minister was allowed to preach, but their support continued throughout their life.[Pg 22]
I purposely changed my lodgings, being desirous to converse with the sectaries that swarmed in this city, out of whose spawn came those almost innumerable broods in England afterward. It was at a Brownist's house, where we had an extraordinary good table. There was in pension with us my Lord Keeper, Finch, and one Sir J. Fotherbee. Here I also found an English Carmelite, who was going through Germany with an Irish gentleman. I now went to see the Weese-house, a foundation like our Charter-house, for the education of decayed persons, orphans, and poor children, where they are taught several occupations. The girls are so well brought up to housewifery, that men of good worth, who seek that chiefly in a woman, frequently take their wives from this hospital. Thence to the Rasp-house, where the lusty knaves are compelled to work; and the rasping of brasil and logwood for the dyers is very hard labor. To the Dool-house, for madmen and fools. But none did I so much admire, as an Hospital for their lame and decrepit soldiers and seamen, where the accommodations are very great, the building answerable; and, indeed, for the like public charities the provisions are admirable in this country, where, as no idle vagabonds are suffered (as in England they are), there is hardly a child of four or five years old, but they find some employment for it.
I deliberately changed my accommodations because I wanted to talk to the various sects that thrived in this city, which later gave rise to countless groups in England. I stayed at a Brownist's house, where we had an extraordinary spread. Among those rooming with us were my Lord Keeper, Finch, and a Sir J. Fotherbee. I also met an English Carmelite traveling through Germany with an Irish gentleman. I then went to visit the Weese-house, a place similar to our Charter-house, dedicated to the education of those in need, orphans, and poor children, where they're taught various trades. The girls are raised to be excellent homemakers, so much so that respectable men looking for a wife often choose someone from this institution. Next, I went to the Rasp-house, where strong men are forced to work; the task of rasping brazilwood and logwood for dyers is very grueling. Then I visited the Dool-house, catering to the insane and foolish. However, what impressed me the most was the hospital for wounded and elderly soldiers and sailors, which has excellent facilities and a fitting structure. Indeed, the provisions for similar public charities in this country are remarkable; unlike in England, where idle vagabonds are tolerated, they find work for almost every child, even those as young as four or five years old.
It was on a Sunday morning that I went to the Bourse, or Exchange, after their sermons were ended, to see the Dog-market, which lasts till two in the afternoon, in this place of convention of merchants from all parts of the world. The building is not comparable to that of London, built by that worthy citizen, Sir Thomas Gresham, yet in one respect exceeding it, that vessels of considerable burden ride at the very quay contiguous to it; and indeed it is by extraordinary industry that as well this city, as generally all the towns of Holland, are so accommodated with graffs, cuts, sluices, moles, and rivers, made by hand, that nothing is more frequent than to see a whole navy, belonging to this mercantile people, riding at anchor before their very doors: and yet their streets even, straight, and well paved, the houses so uniform and planted with lime trees, as nothing can be more beautiful.
It was on a Sunday morning that I went to the Bourse, or Exchange, after their sermons were finished, to check out the Dog Market, which runs until two in the afternoon, in this gathering place for merchants from all over the world. The building can't compare to the one in London, built by that great citizen, Sir Thomas Gresham, but in one way it’s better: larger vessels can dock right at the quay next to it. It’s really through hard work that this city, like many towns in Holland, is so well-equipped with canals, cuts, sluices, moles, and rivers made by hand, so it’s common to see an entire fleet from these trading people anchored right outside their doors. Their streets are straight and well-paved, the houses are uniform and lined with lime trees, making it all incredibly beautiful.
The next day we were entertained at a kind of tavern,[Pg 23] called the Briloft, appertaining to a rich Anabaptist, where, in the upper rooms of the house, were divers pretty waterworks, rising 108 feet from the ground. Here were many quaint devices, fountains, artificial music, noises of beasts, and chirping of birds; but what pleased me most was a large pendant candlestick, branching into several sockets, furnished all with ordinary candles to appearance, out of the wicks spouting out streams of water, instead of flames. This seemed then and was a rarity, before the philosophy of compressed air made it intelligible. There was likewise a cylinder that entertained the company with a variety of chimes, the hammers striking upon the brims of porcelain dishes, suited to the tones and notes, without cracking any of them. Many other waterworks were shown.
The next day we enjoyed ourselves at a tavern,[Pg 23] called the Briloft, owned by a wealthy Anabaptist. In the upper part of the building, there were various beautiful water features that rose 108 feet into the air. Here, we found many interesting gadgets, fountains, artificial music, animal sounds, and bird chirps. But what impressed me the most was a large hanging candlestick that branched out into several holders, all supposedly holding regular candles, from which streams of water spouted instead of flames. At that time, it was a novelty, especially before the science of compressed air made it understandable. There was also a cylinder that entertained the guests with different chimes, with the hammers striking the edges of porcelain dishes, matching the tones and notes without breaking any of them. Many other water features were showcased as well.
The Kaiser's or Emperor's Graft, which is an ample and long street, appearing like a city in a forest; the lime trees planted just before each house, and at the margin of that goodly aqueduct so curiously wharfed with Klincard brick, which likewise paves the streets, than which nothing can be more useful and neat. This part of Amsterdam is built and gained upon the main sea, supported by piles at an immense charge, and fitted for the most busy concourse of traffickers and people of commerce beyond any place, or mart, in the world. Nor must I forget the port of entrance into an issue of this town, composed of very magnificent pieces of architecture, some of the ancient and best manner, as are divers churches.
The Kaiser's or Emperor's Graft is a wide, long street that feels like a city in a forest; the lime trees are planted right in front of each house and along the edge of a beautifully constructed aqueduct made from Klincard brick, which also paves the streets—nothing is more useful and tidy. This part of Amsterdam is built on land reclaimed from the sea, supported by piles at a huge expense, and designed for the busiest gatherings of traders and commercial people more than anywhere else in the world. I must also mention the entrance port of this town, featuring some truly spectacular architecture, including several churches in ancient and exquisite styles.
The turrets, or steeples, are adorned after a particular manner and invention; the chimes of bells are so rarely managed, that being curious to know whether the motion was from any engine, I went up to that of St. Nicholas, where I found one who played all sorts of compositions from the tablature before him, as if he had fingered an organ; for so were the hammers fastened with wires to several keys put into a frame twenty feet below the bells, upon which (by the help of a wooden instrument, not much unlike a weaver's shuttle, that guarded his hand) he struck on the keys and played to admiration. All this while, through the clattering of the wires, din of the too nearly sounding bells, and noise that his wooden gloves made, the confusion was so great, that it was impossible for the musician, or any that stood near him, to hear[Pg 24] anything at all; yet, to those at a distance, and especially in the streets, the harmony and the time were the most exact and agreeable.
The towers, or steeples, are decorated in a unique and creative way; the ringing of the bells is so infrequently controlled that I became curious to find out if the motion was produced by any mechanism. I went up to St. Nicholas's tower, where I discovered a person who played all kinds of tunes from the sheet music in front of him, as if he were playing an organ. The hammers were attached with wires to several keys placed in a frame twenty feet below the bells, and using a wooden device, quite similar to a weaver's shuttle that protected his hands, he struck the keys and played impressively. During all this, amid the clattering of the wires, the loud ringing of the nearby bells, and the noise made by his wooden gloves, the chaos was so overwhelming that neither the musician nor anyone nearby could hear anything at all; yet, for those at a distance, especially in the streets, the music and rhythm were perfectly coordinated and pleasant.
The south church is richly paved with black and white marble,—the west is a new fabric; and generally all the churches in Holland are furnished with organs, lamps, and monuments, carefully preserved from the fury and impiety of popular reformers, whose zeal has foolishly transported them in other places rather to act like madmen than religious.
The south church is beautifully tiled with black and white marble; the west side is a new addition. In general, all the churches in Holland are equipped with organs, lamps, and monuments, which have been carefully protected from the wrath and irreverence of popular reformers, whose passion has led them to behave more like crazed individuals than like true religious figures.
Upon St. Bartholomew's day, I went among the booksellers, and visited the famous Hondius and Bleaw's shop, to buy some maps, atlases, and other works of that kind. At another shop, I furnished myself with some shells and Indian curiosities; and so, toward the end of August, I returned again to Haerlem by the river, ten miles in length, straight as a line, and of competent breadth for ships to sail by one another. They showed us a cottage where, they told us, dwelt a woman who had been married to her twenty-fifth husband, and being now a widow, was prohibited to marry in future; yet it could not be proved that she had ever made away with any of her husbands, though the suspicion had brought her divers times to trouble.
On St. Bartholomew's Day, I went to the bookstores and visited the well-known Hondius and Bleaw's shop to buy some maps, atlases, and other similar items. At another store, I picked up some shells and Indian curiosities. By the end of August, I returned to Haarlem by the river, which was ten miles long, perfectly straight, and wide enough for ships to pass each other. They showed us a cottage where a woman lived who had been married to her twenty-fifth husband, and now that she was a widow, she was not allowed to marry again. However, it couldn't be proven that she had ever harmed any of her husbands, even though the suspicion had caused her trouble several times.
Haerlem is a very delicate town and hath one of the fairest churches of the Gothic design I had ever seen. There hang in the steeple, which is very high, two silver bells, said to have been brought from Damietta, in Egypt, by an earl of Holland, in memory of whose success they are rung out every evening. In the nave hang the goodliest branches of brass for tapers that I have seen, esteemed of great value for the curiosity of the workmanship; also a fair pair of organs, which I could not find they made use of in divine service, or so much as to assist them in singing psalms, but only for show, and to recreate the people before and after their devotions, while the burgomasters were walking and conferring about their affairs. Near the west window hang two models of ships, completely equipped, in memory of that invention of saws under their keels, with which they cut through the chain of booms, which barred the port of Damietta. LEYDENHaving visited this church, the fish-market, and made some inquiry about the printing-house, the invention whereof is said to have been in this town, I returned to Leyden.[Pg 25]
Haerlem is a very charming town and has one of the most beautiful Gothic churches I've ever seen. In the tall steeple, there are two silver bells that are said to have been brought from Damietta, Egypt, by an earl of Holland. These bells are rung every evening to commemorate his success. Inside the nave, there are the finest brass candle holders I've seen, valued for their intricate craftsmanship. There's also a beautiful set of organs, which I noticed they didn't use during church services or to help with singing psalms, but just for decoration and to entertain people before and after their worship while the burgomasters walked around discussing their matters. Near the west window, there are two models of fully equipped ships, a tribute to the invention of saws under their keels, which helped them cut through the chain of booms blocking the port of Damietta. LEYDEN After visiting this church, the fish market, and making some inquiries about the printing house—said to have originated in this town—I returned to Leyden.[Pg 25]
At Leyden, I was carried up to the castle, or Pyrgus, built on a very steep artificial mount, cast up (as reported) by Hengist the Saxon, on his return out of England, as a place to retire to, in case of any sudden inundations.
At Leyden, I was taken up to the castle, or Pyrgus, built on a very steep artificial mound, supposedly created by Hengist the Saxon upon his return from England, as a place to retreat to in case of any sudden floods.
The churches are many and fair; in one of them lies buried the learned and illustrious Joseph Scaliger, without any extraordinary inscription, who, having left the world a monument of his worth more lasting than marble, needed nothing more than his own name; which I think is all engraven on his sepulcher. He left his library to this University.
The churches are numerous and beautiful; one of them holds the remains of the renowned and distinguished Joseph Scaliger, without any notable inscription. He left behind a legacy more enduring than marble, needing nothing more than his own name, which I believe is all that's engraved on his tomb. He donated his library to this University.
28th August, 1641. I went to see the college and schools, which are nothing extraordinary, and was complimented with a matricula by the magnificus Professor, who first in Latin demanded of me where my lodging in the town was, my name, age, birth, and to what Faculty I addicted myself; then, recording my answers in a book, he administered an oath to me that I should observe the statutes and orders of the University while I stayed, and then delivered me a ticket, by virtue whereof I was made excise-free; for all which worthy privileges, and the pains of writing, he accepted of a rix-dollar.
28th August, 1641. I went to check out the college and schools, which were nothing special, and the distinguished Professor gave me a matriculation. He first asked me in Latin where I was staying in town, my name, age, birthplace, and which Faculty I was interested in. After recording my answers in a book, he administered an oath that I would follow the University’s rules while I was there, and then gave me a ticket that made me exempt from taxes. For all these privileges and the effort of writing, he accepted a rix-dollar.
Here was now the famous Dan. Heinsius, whom I so longed to see, as well as the no less famous printer, Elzevir's printing-house and shop, renowned for the politeness of the character and editions of what he has published through Europe. Hence to the physic-garden, well stored with exotic plants, if the catalogue presented to me by the gardener be a faithful register.
Here was the famous Dan. Heinsius, whom I had been eager to see, along with the equally famous printer, Elzevir's printing house and shop, known for the politeness of its staff and the quality of the editions published throughout Europe. From there, we headed to the botanical garden, filled with exotic plants, if the catalog given to me by the gardener is accurate.
But, among all the rarities of this place, I was much pleased with a sight of their anatomy-school, theater, and repository adjoining, which is well furnished with natural curiosities; skeletons, from the whale and elephant to the fly and spider; which last is a very delicate piece of art, to see how the bones (if I may so call them of so tender an insect) could be separated from the mucilaginous parts of that minute animal. Among a great variety of other things, I was shown the knife newly taken out of a drunken Dutchman's guts, by an incision in his side, after it had slipped from his fingers into his stomach. The pictures of the chirurgeon and his patient, both living, were there.[Pg 26]
But among all the unique things in this place, I was really impressed by their anatomy school, theater, and storage area nearby, which is well stocked with natural curiosities; skeletons ranging from a whale and an elephant to a fly and a spider. The spider is particularly intricate, showcasing how the bones (if I can call them that for such a delicate creature) were separated from the soft parts of that tiny animal. Among a wide variety of other items, I was shown a knife that had just been removed from a drunken Dutchman's stomach after it slipped from his hand into his belly. There were pictures of the surgeon and his patient, both alive, on display.[Pg 26]
There is without the town a fair Mall, curiously planted.
There is a nice mall outside of town, interestingly located.
Returning to my lodging, I was showed the statue, cut in stone, of the happy monk, whom they report to have been the first inventor of typography, set over the door; but this is much controverted by others, who strive for the glory of it, besides John Gutenberg.
Returning to my place, I was shown the stone statue of the cheerful monk, who is said to be the first inventor of printing, placed above the door; however, this is hotly debated by others who vie for the credit along with John Gutenberg.
I was brought acquainted with a Burgundian Jew, who had married an apostate Kentish woman. I asked him divers questions: he told me, among other things, that the World should never end; that our souls transmigrated, and that even those of the most holy persons did penance in the bodies of brutes after death,—and so he interpreted the banishment and savage life of Nebuchadnezzar: that all the Jews should rise again, and be led to Jerusalem; that the Romans only were the occasion of our Savior's death, whom he affirmed (as the Turks do) to be a great prophet, but not the Messiah. He showed me several books of their devotion, which he had translated into English, for the instruction of his wife; he told me that when the Messiah came, all the ships, barks, and vessels of Holland should, by the power of certain strange whirlwinds, be loosed from their anchors, and transported in a moment to all the desolate ports and havens throughout the world, wherever the dispersion was, to convey their brethren and tribes to the Holy City; with other such like stuff. He was a merry drunken fellow, but would by no means handle any money (for something I purchased of him), it being Saturday; but desired me to leave it in the window, meaning to receive it on Sunday morning.
I met a Jewish man from Burgundy who had married a woman from Kent who had converted away from her faith. I asked him various questions, and he told me, among other things, that the world would never end; that our souls are reborn, and that even the most holy people pay for their past actions by living as animals after they die—and he explained this as the reason for Nebuchadnezzar's exile and wild life. He said that all Jews would rise again and be taken to Jerusalem; that it was the Romans who were responsible for our Savior's death, whom he claimed (like the Turks) was a great prophet but not the Messiah. He showed me several books of their prayers that he had translated into English to teach his wife. He told me that when the Messiah comes, all the ships and boats from Holland would magically break free from their anchors and be instantly transported to every deserted port around the world, wherever the Jewish people were, to bring their families and tribes to the Holy City; along with other similar beliefs. He was a cheerful, drunken guy, but he absolutely refused to touch any money (for something I bought from him) because it was Saturday; instead, he asked me to leave it on the windowsill, intending to collect it on Sunday morning.
1st September, 1641. I went to Delft and Rotterdam, and two days after back to the Hague, to bespeak a suit of horseman's armor, which I caused to be made to fit me. I now rode out of town to see the monument of the woman, pretended to have been a countess of Holland, reported to have had as many children at one birth, as there are days in the year. The basins were hung up in which they were baptized, together with a large description of the matter-of-fact in a frame of carved work, in the church of Lysdun, a desolate place. As I returned, I diverted to see one of the Prince's Palaces, called the Hoff Van Hounsler's Dyck, a very fair cloistered and[Pg 27] quadrangular building. The gallery is prettily painted with several huntings, and at one end a gordian knot, with rustical instruments so artificially represented, as to deceive an accurate eye to distinguish it from actual relievo. The ceiling of the staircase is painted with the "Rape of Ganymede," and other pendant figures, the work of F. Covenberg, of whose hand I bought an excellent drollery, which I afterward parted with to my brother George of Wotton, where it now hangs. To this palace join a fair garden and park, curiously planted with limes.
1st September, 1641. I went to Delft and Rotterdam, and two days later returned to The Hague to order a suit of horseman’s armor, which I had made to fit me. I then rode out of town to see the monument of a woman, who was claimed to have been a countess of Holland, and was said to have had as many children in one birth as there are days in a year. The basins in which they were baptized were displayed, along with a detailed description of the event in a carved frame, in the church of Lysdun, a lonely place. On my way back, I decided to check out one of the Prince's Palaces, called the Hoff Van Hounsler's Dyck, a very beautiful cloistered and quadrangular building. The gallery is nicely painted with various hunting scenes, and at one end, there’s a Gordian knot, with rustic instruments portrayed so skillfully that it’s hard to tell them apart from actual relief. The ceiling of the staircase features a painting of the "Rape of Ganymede" and other hanging figures, created by F. Covenberg, from whom I bought a great piece of art that I later gave to my brother George of Wotton, where it now hangs. This palace is accompanied by a lovely garden and park, intricately planted with linden trees.
8th September, 1641. Returned to Rotterdam, through Delftshaven and Sedan, where were at that time Colonel Goring's winter quarters. This town has heretofore been very much talked of for witches.
8th September, 1641. Returned to Rotterdam, through Delftshaven and Sedan, where Colonel Goring's winter quarters were at that time. This town has been frequently mentioned in relation to witches.
10th September, 1641. I took a wagon for Dort, to be present at the reception of the Queen-mother, Marie de Medicis, Dowager of France, widow of Henry the Great, and mother to the French King, Louis XIII., and the Queen of England, whence she newly arrived, tossed to and fro by the various fortune of her life. From this city, she designed for Cologne, conducted by the Earl of Arundel and the Herr Van Bredrod. At this interview, I saw the Princess of Orange, and the lady her daughter, afterward married to the House of Brandenburgh. There was little remarkable in this reception befitting the greatness of her person; but an universal discontent, which accompanied that unlucky woman wherever she went.
10th September, 1641. I took a wagon to Dort to attend the reception of the Queen-mother, Marie de Medicis, the Dowager of France, widow of Henry the Great, and mother of the French King, Louis XIII., and the Queen of England. She had just arrived, having been tossed around by the many twists of her life. From this city, she planned to go to Cologne, accompanied by the Earl of Arundel and Herr Van Bredrod. At this gathering, I saw the Princess of Orange and her daughter, who later married into the House of Brandenburg. There wasn’t much remarkable about this reception that matched her status; rather, there was a general discontent that seemed to follow that unfortunate woman wherever she went.
12th September, 1641. I went toward Bois-le-Duc, where we arrived on the 16th, at the time when the new citadel was advancing, with innumerable hands, and incomparable inventions for draining off the waters out of the fens and morasses about it, being by buckets, mills, cochleas, pumps, and the like; in which the Hollanders are the most expert in Europe. Here were now sixteen companies and nine troops of horse. They were also cutting a new river, to pass from the town to a castle not far from it. Here we split our skiff, falling foul upon another through negligence of the master, who was fain to run aground, to our no little hazard. At our arrival, a soldier conveyed us to the Governor, where our names were taken, and our persons examined very strictly.[Pg 28]
12th September, 1641. I made my way to Bois-le-Duc, where we arrived on the 16th, just as the new citadel was being built with countless workers and amazing inventions to drain the water from the surrounding swamps and marshes, using buckets, mills, screws, pumps, and similar tools; the Dutch are the best at this in Europe. There were now sixteen companies and nine troops of cavalry present. They were also digging a new river to connect the town to a nearby castle. Unfortunately, we damaged our skiff when we collided with another boat due to the captain's negligence, which put us in quite a bit of danger. Upon our arrival, a soldier took us to the Governor, where our names were recorded and our identities were checked very thoroughly.[Pg 28]
17th September, 1641. I was permitted to walk the round and view the works, and to visit a convent of religious women of the order of St. Clara (who by the capitulation were allowed to enjoy their monastery and maintenance undisturbed, at the surrender of the town twelve years since), where we had a collation and very civil entertainment. They had a neat chapel, in which the heart of the Duke of Cleves, their founder, lies inhumed under a plate of brass. Within the cloister is a garden, and in the middle of it an overgrown lime tree, out of whose stem, near the root, issue five upright and exceeding tall suckers, or bolls, the like whereof for evenness and height I had not observed.
17th September, 1641. I was allowed to walk around and check out the works, and to visit a convent of religious women of the Order of St. Clara (who were permitted to keep their monastery and support undisturbed, following the town's surrender twelve years ago), where we enjoyed a light meal and were treated very kindly. They had a tidy chapel, where the heart of the Duke of Cleves, their founder, is buried beneath a brass plate. In the cloister, there is a garden, and in the center stands a tall, overgrown lime tree, from whose trunk, near the base, grow five straight and exceptionally tall suckers, or sprouts, the likes of which I have never seen for their evenness and height.
The chief church of this city is curiously carved within and without, furnished with a pair of organs, and a most magnificent font of copper.
The main church of this city is intricately carved inside and out, equipped with a set of organs, and has a stunning copper font.
18th September, 1641. I went to see that most impregnable town and fort of Hysdune, where I was exceedingly obliged to one Colonel Crombe, the lieutenant-governor, who would needs make me accept the honor of being captain of the watch, and to give the word this night. The fortification is very irregular, but esteemed one of the most considerable for strength and situation in the Netherlands. We departed toward Gorcum. Here Sir Kenelm Digby, traveling toward Cologne, met us.
18th September, 1641. I went to visit the strong town and fort of Hysdune, where I was very grateful to Colonel Crombe, the lieutenant-governor, who insisted that I accept the honor of being captain of the watch and give the orders for the night. The fortifications are quite irregular, but it is considered one of the strongest and strategically placed in the Netherlands. We set off towards Gorcum. There, we met Sir Kenelm Digby, who was on his way to Cologne.
The next morning, the 19th, we arrived at Dort, passing by the Decoys, where they catch innumerable quantities of fowl.
The next morning, the 19th, we got to Dort, passing the Decoys, where they catch countless birds.
22d September, 1641. I went again to Rotterdam to receive a pass which I expected from Brussels, securing me through Brabant and Flanders, designing to go into England through those countries. The Cardinal Infante, brother to the King of Spain, was then governor. By this pass, having obtained another from the Prince of Orange, upon the 24th of September I departed through Dort; but met with very bad tempestuous weather, being several times driven back, and obliged to lie at anchor off Keele, other vessels lying there waiting better weather. The 25th and 26th we made other essays; but were again repulsed to the harbor, where lay sixty vessels waiting to sail. But, on the 27th, we, impatient of the time and inhospitableness of the place, sailed again with a contrary and impetuous wind and a terrible sea, in[Pg 29] great jeopardy; for we had much ado to keep ourselves above water, the billows breaking desperately on our vessel: we were driven into Williamstadt, a place garrisoned by the English, where the governor had a fair house. The works, and especially the counterscarp, are curiously hedged with quick, and planted with a stately row of limes on the rampart. The church is of a round structure, with a cupola, and the town belongs entirely to the Prince of Orange, as does that of Breda, and some other places.
September 22, 1641. I went back to Rotterdam to pick up a pass I was expecting from Brussels, which would allow me to travel through Brabant and Flanders, intending to head to England through those regions. The Cardinal Infante, brother of the King of Spain, was the governor at that time. With this pass, and having secured another from the Prince of Orange, I set out on September 24 through Dort. However, I faced incredibly bad weather, being pushed back several times and forced to anchor off Keele, where other ships were also waiting for better conditions. On the 25th and 26th, we tried again but were once more sent back to the harbor, which was crowded with sixty vessels waiting to depart. Finally, on the 27th, tired of the delays and unwelcoming atmosphere, we sailed out again into a fierce wind and rough seas, putting us in serious danger; it was a struggle to keep the ship afloat with the waves crashing violently against us. We were pushed into Williamstadt, a fortified area held by the English, where the governor had a nice house. The fortifications, especially the outer ditch, are carefully bordered with hedges and lined with a stunning row of lime trees on the rampart. The church has a round design with a dome, and the town is completely under the control of the Prince of Orange, just like Breda and a few other locations.
28th September, 1641. Failing of an appointment, I was constrained to return to Dort for a bill of exchange; but it was the 1st of October ere I could get back. At Keele, I numbered 141 vessels, who durst not yet venture out; but, animated by the master of a stout bark, after a small encounter of weather, we arrived by four that evening at Steenbergen. In the passage we sailed over a sea called the Plaats, an exceeding dangerous water, by reason of two contrary tides which meet there very impetuously. Here, because of the many shelves, we were forced to tide it along the Channel; but, ere we could gain the place, the ebb was so far spent, that we were compelled to foot it at least two long miles, through a most pelting shower of rain.
28th September, 1641. After missing an appointment, I had to go back to Dort for a bill of exchange; however, I didn't manage to return until the 1st of October. At Keele, I counted 141 vessels that dared not leave yet; but encouraged by the captain of a sturdy boat, after a brief battle with the weather, we reached Steenbergen by four that evening. During the journey, we sailed over a very treacherous sea called the Plaats, known for its fierce opposing tides. Here, due to the many shallows, we had to follow the tide along the Channel; but before we could reach our destination, the ebb had advanced so much that we were forced to walk at least two long miles through a heavy downpour.
2d October, 1641. With a gentleman of the Rhyngraves, I went in a cart, or tumbrel (for it was no better; no other accommodation could be procured), of two wheels and one horse, to Bergen-op-Zoom, meeting by the way divers parties of his Highness's army now retiring toward their winter quarters; the convoy skiffs riding by thousands along the harbor. The fort was heretofore built by the English.
2nd October, 1641. I traveled in a cart, or tumbrel (it was no better; no other accommodation was available), with a gentleman from the Rhyngraves, on two wheels and pulled by one horse, to Bergen-op-Zoom. Along the way, we encountered various groups from his Highness's army that were heading back to their winter quarters, with convoy skiffs riding by the thousands along the harbor. The fort was previously built by the English.
The next morning I embarked for Lillo, having refused a convoy of horse which was offered me. The tide being against us, we landed short of the fort on the beach, where we marched half leg deep in mud, ere we could gain the dyke, which, being five or six miles from Lillo, we were forced to walk on foot very wet and discomposed; and then entering a boat we passed the ferry, and came to the castle. Being taken before the Governor, he demanded my pass, to which he set his hand, and asked two rix-dollars for a fee, which methought appeared very exorbitant in a soldier of his quality. I told him that I had[Pg 30] already purchased my pass of the commissaries at Rotterdam; at which, in a great fury, snatching the paper out of my hand, he flung it scornfully under the table, and bade me try whether I could get to Antwerp without his permission: but I had no sooner given him the dollars, then he returned the passport surlily enough, and made me pay fourteen Dutch shillings to the cantone, or searcher, for my contempt, which I was glad to do for fear of further trouble, should he have discovered my Spanish pass, in which the States were therein treated by the name of rebels. Besides all these exactions, I gave the commissary six shillings, to the soldiers something, and, ere perfectly clear of this frontier, thirty-one stivers to the man-of-war, who lay blocking up the river between Lillo and the opposite sconce called Lifkinshoeck.
The next morning, I set off for Lillo, having turned down an offer of a horse escort. With the tide against us, we landed short of the fort on the beach, where we trudged through mud up to our ankles before we could reach the dyke, which was about five or six miles from Lillo. We had to walk, soaked and uncomfortable, and then we got into a boat to cross the ferry and arrived at the castle. When I was brought before the Governor, he asked for my pass, signed it, and then demanded two rix-dollars as a fee, which I thought seemed quite unreasonable for a soldier of his status. I told him I had already paid for my pass from the commissaries in Rotterdam. In a fit of anger, he snatched the paper from my hand, threw it scornfully under the table, and told me to see if I could get to Antwerp without his permission. But as soon as I handed him the dollars, he reluctantly returned the passport and made me pay fourteen Dutch shillings to the cantone, or searcher, for my supposed disrespect, which I was relieved to do to avoid any further trouble, especially if he had found out about my Spanish pass, where the States were referred to as rebels. On top of all these demands, I also gave the commissary six shillings, some money to the soldiers, and, before finally getting clear of this frontier, thirty-one stivers to the warship blocking the river between Lillo and the opposite post called Lifkinshoeck.
4th October, 1641. We sailed by several Spanish forts, out of one of which, St. Mary's port, came a Don on board us, to whom I showed my Spanish pass, which he signed, and civilly dismissed us. Hence, sailing by another man-of-war, to which we lowered our topsails, we at length arrived at Antwerp.
4th October, 1641. We sailed past several Spanish forts, and from one of them, St. Mary's port, a Don came on board. I showed him my Spanish pass, which he signed and politely sent us on our way. After that, we passed another warship, to which we lowered our topsails, and finally, we arrived in Antwerp.
The lodgings here are very handsome and convenient. I lost little time; but, with the aid of one Mr. Lewkner, our conductor, we visited divers churches, colleges, and monasteries. The Church of the Jesuits is most sumptuous and magnificent; a glorious fabric without and within, wholly incrusted with marble, inlaid and polished into divers representations of histories, landscapes, and flowers. On the high altar is placed the statue of the Blessed Virgin and our Savior in white marble, with a boss in the girdle set with very fair and rich sapphires, and divers other stones of price. The choir is a glorious piece of architecture: the pulpit supported by four angels, and adorned with other carvings, and rare pictures by Rubens, now lately dead, and divers votive tables and relics. Hence, to the Vroù Kirk, or Nôtre Dame of Antwerp: it is a very venerable fabric, built after the Gothic manner, especially the tower, which I ascended, the better to take a view of the country adjacent; which, happening on a day when the sun shone exceedingly bright, and darted his rays without any interruption, afforded so bright a reflection to us who were above, and had a full prospect of both land and water about it, that I was much confirmed[Pg 31] in my opinion of the moon's being of some such substance as this earthly globe: perceiving all the subjacent country, at so small an horizontal distance, to repercuss such a light as I could hardly look against, save where the river, and other large water within our view, appeared of a more dark and uniform color; resembling those spots in the moon supposed to be seas there, according to Hevelius, and as they appear in our late telescopes. I numbered in this church thirty privileged altars, that of St. Sebastian adorned with a painting of his martyrdom.
The accommodations here are quite nice and convenient. I didn't waste much time; with the help of Mr. Lewkner, our guide, we visited several churches, colleges, and monasteries. The Jesuit Church is incredibly lavish and impressive; a stunning building inside and out, completely covered in marble, inlaid and polished into various depictions of stories, landscapes, and flowers. At the high altar, there's a statue of the Blessed Virgin and our Savior made of white marble, with a belt featuring beautiful and expensive sapphires and other precious stones. The choir is an amazing piece of architecture: the pulpit is supported by four angels and adorned with other carvings, as well as rare paintings by Rubens, who recently passed away, and several votive tables and relics. From there, we went to the Vroù Kirk, or Nôtre Dame of Antwerp: it's a very respected structure built in the Gothic style, especially the tower, which I climbed to get a better view of the surrounding countryside. On a day when the sun was shining very brightly, casting its rays without interruption, the reflection was so bright from our vantage point that it made me even more convinced that the moon is made of a similar substance as our earth. I could see the entire nearby countryside, and at such a short horizontal distance, it reflected light in a way that was almost blinding, except for where the river and other large bodies of water appeared darker and more uniform in color—similar to those spots on the moon believed to be seas according to Hevelius, and as seen through our recent telescopes. I counted thirty privileged altars in this church, including the one for St. Sebastian, decorated with a painting of his martyrdom.
We went to see the Jerusalem Church, affirmed to have been founded by one who, upon divers great wagers, passed to and fro between that city and Antwerp, on foot, by which he procured large sums of money, which he bestowed on this pious structure.13 Hence, to St. Mary's Chapel, where I had some conference with two English Jesuits, confessors to Colonel Jaye's regiment. These fathers conducted us to the Cloister of Nuns, where we heard a Dutch sermon upon the exposure of the Host. The Senate-house of this city is a very spacious and magnificent building.
We visited the Jerusalem Church, which is said to have been established by someone who, after making several large bets, traveled back and forth between that city and Antwerp on foot, earning considerable money that he donated to this holy structure.13 After that, we went to St. Mary's Chapel, where I spoke with two English Jesuits who were confessors for Colonel Jaye's regiment. These priests took us to the Cloister of Nuns, where we listened to a Dutch sermon about the exposure of the Host. The Senate-house in this city is a very large and impressive building.
5th October, 1641. I visited the Jesuits' School, which, for the fame of their method, I greatly desired to see. They were divided into four classes, with several inscriptions over each: as, first, Ad majorem Dei gloriam; over the second, Princeps diligentiæ; the third, Imperator Byzantiorum; over the fourth and uppermost, Imperator Romanorum. Under these, the scholars and pupils and their places, or forms with titles and priority according to their proficiency. Their dormitory and lodgings above were exceedingly neat. They have a prison for the offenders and less diligent; and, in an ample court, to recreate themselves in, is an aviary, and a yard, where eagles, vultures, foxes, monkeys, and other animals are kept, to divert the boys withal at their hours of remission. To this school join the music and mathematical schools, and lastly a pretty, neat chapel. The great street is built after the Italian mode, in the middle whereof is erected a glorious crucifix of white and black marble, greater than the life. This is a very fair and noble street, clean, well paved, and sweet to admiration.[Pg 32]
5th October, 1641. I visited the Jesuits' School, which I was eager to see because of its renowned teaching method. The students were divided into four classes, each labeled with a phrase: the first, Ad majorem Dei gloriam; the second, Princeps diligentiæ; the third, Imperator Byzantiorum; and the fourth, which was the highest, Imperator Romanorum. Below these, the students were arranged in their seats or groups, ranked according to their skill level. Their dormitory and living quarters upstairs were very tidy. They have a space for punishing those who misbehave or are less diligent, and in a spacious courtyard for recreation, there’s an aviary and a yard where eagles, vultures, foxes, monkeys, and other animals are kept to entertain the boys during their free time. This school is also connected to the music and math schools, and there’s a nice, neat chapel at the end. The main street is built in the Italian style, with a stunning crucifix made of white and black marble standing in the middle, larger than life. It's a very beautiful and impressive street, clean, well-paved, and remarkably pleasant.[Pg 32]
The Oesters house, belonging to the East India Company, is a stately palace, adorned with more than 300 windows. From hence, walking into the Gun-garden, I was allowed to see as much of the citadel as is permitted to strangers. It is a matchless piece of modern fortification, accommodated with lodgments for the soldiers and magazines. The graffs, ramparts, and platforms are stupendous. Returning by the shop of Plantine, I bought some books, for the namesake only of that famous printer.
The Oesters house, owned by the East India Company, is an impressive palace with over 300 windows. From there, when walking into the Gun-garden, I was allowed to see as much of the citadel as strangers are permitted. It's an incredible example of modern fortification, equipped with accommodations for soldiers and storage facilities. The moats, walls, and lookout points are extraordinary. On my way back, I stopped by Plantine's shop and bought some books, just because it shares a name with that famous printer.
But there was nothing about this city which more ravished me than those delicious shades and walks of stately trees, which render the fortified works of the town one of the sweetest places in Europe; nor did I ever observe a more quiet, clean, elegantly built and civil place, than this magnificent and famous city of Antwerp. In the evening, I was invited to Signor Duerte's, a Portuguese by nation, an exceeding rich merchant, whose palace I found to be furnished like a prince's. His three daughters entertained us with rare music, vocal and instrumental, which was finished with a handsome collation. I took leave of the ladies and of sweet Antwerp, as late as it was, embarking for Brussels on the Scheldt in a vessel, which delivered us to a second boat (in another river) drawn or towed by horses. In this passage, we frequently changed our barge, by reason of the bridges thwarting our course. Here I observed numerous families inhabiting their vessels and floating dwellings, so built and divided by cabins, as few houses on land enjoyed better accommodation; stored with all sorts of utensils, neat chambers, a pretty parlor, and kept so sweet, that nothing could be more refreshing. The rivers on which they are drawn are very clear and still waters, and pass through a most pleasant country on both the banks. We had in our boat a very good ordinary, and excellent company. The cut is straight as a line for twenty English miles. What I much admired was, near the midway, another artificial river, which intersects this at right angles, but on an eminence of ground, and is carried in an aqueduct of stone so far above the other as that the waters neither mingle, nor hinder one another's passage.
But nothing captivated me more about this city than the beautiful shades and walks of its majestic trees, which make the town's fortified areas one of the sweetest spots in Europe. I also didn't find a quieter, cleaner, more elegantly built, and welcoming place than this magnificent and famous city of Antwerp. In the evening, I was invited to Signor Duerte's house, a Portuguese national and an extremely wealthy merchant, whose palace was furnished like a prince's. His three daughters entertained us with exquisite music, both vocal and instrumental, which ended with a lovely spread. I said goodbye to the ladies and the lovely city of Antwerp, even though it was late, as I boarded a boat for Brussels on the Scheldt. We switched to a second boat in a different river, which was pulled by horses. During this trip, we frequently changed boats due to bridges blocking our path. I noticed many families living on their boats and floating homes, designed with cabins that offered better accommodations than many land houses. They were equipped with all sorts of utensils, tidy rooms, a lovely parlor, and kept so clean that it was incredibly refreshing. The rivers on which they traveled were clear and calm, flowing through a very pleasant countryside on both banks. Our boat had a great meal and excellent company. The route was a straight line for twenty English miles. What I found particularly impressive was, near the midpoint, another artificial river that crosses this one at right angles, elevated on higher ground, carried in a stone aqueduct that was high enough above the other so that the waters never mix or interfere with each other’s flow.
We came to a town called Villefrow, where all the passengers went on shore to wash at a fountain issuing[Pg 33] out of a pillar, and then came aboard again. On the margin of this long tract are abundance of shrines and images, defended from the injuries of the weather by niches of stone wherein they are placed.
We arrived at a town called Villefrow, where all the passengers got off to wash at a fountain pouring out of a pillar, and then they got back on board. Along the edge of this long stretch, there are plenty of shrines and images, protected from the elements by stone niches that hold them.
7th October, 1641. We arrived at Brussels at nine in the morning. The Stadt-house, near the market place, is, for the carving in freestone, a most laborious and finished piece, well worthy observation. The flesh-shambles are also built of stone. I was pleased with certain small engines, by which a girl, or boy, was able to draw up, or let down, great bridges, which in divers parts of this city crossed the channel for the benefit of passengers. The walls of this town are very entire, and full of towers at competent distances. The cathedral is built upon a very high and exceeding steep ascent, to which we mounted by fair steps of stone. Hence I walked to a convent of English Nuns, with whom I sat discoursing most part of the afternoon.
7th October, 1641. We arrived in Brussels at 9 in the morning. The City Hall, close to the market square, is an impressive piece of stone carving, very detailed and definitely worth a look. The meat market is also made of stone. I was intrigued by some small mechanisms that allowed a girl or boy to raise or lower large bridges that crossed the water in various parts of the city for the convenience of pedestrians. The city's walls are well-preserved and dotted with towers at regular intervals. The cathedral is situated on a very high and steep hill, which we climbed using nice stone steps. From there, I walked to a convent of English nuns, and I spent most of the afternoon talking with them.
8th October, 1641. Being the morning I came away, I went to see the Prince's Court, an ancient, confused building, not much unlike the Hofft, at the Hague: there is here likewise a very large hall, where they vend all sorts of wares. Through this we passed by the chapel, which is indeed rarely arched, and in the middle of it was the hearse, or catafalque, of the late Archduchess, the wise and pious Clara Eugenia. Out of this we were conducted to the lodgings, tapestried with incomparable arras, and adorned with many excellent pieces of Rubens, old and young Breugel, Titian, and Stenwick, with stories of most of the late actions in the Netherlands.
8th October, 1641. On the morning I left, I went to check out the Prince's Court, an old and somewhat chaotic building, not unlike the Hof at The Hague. There is a very large hall here where all kinds of goods are sold. We passed through this to the chapel, which has an impressive arch. In the center was the hearse, or catafalque, of the late Archduchess, the wise and virtuous Clara Eugenia. From there, we were taken to the accommodations, decorated with incredible tapestries and adorned with many excellent pieces by Rubens, old and young Breugel, Titian, and Stenwick, depicting many of the recent events in the Netherlands.
By an accident we could not see the library. There is a fair terrace which looks to the vineyard, in which, on pedestals, are fixed the statues of all the Spanish kings of the house of Austria. The opposite walls are painted by Rubens, being an history of the late tumults in Belgia: in the last piece, the Archduchess shuts a great pair of gates upon Mars, who is coming out of hell, armed, and in a menacing posture; which, with that other of the Infanta taking leave of Don Philip IV., is a most incomparable table.
Due to an accident, we couldn't see the library. There's a nice terrace that overlooks the vineyard, where the statues of all the Spanish kings from the House of Austria are placed on pedestals. The opposite walls are painted by Rubens and depict the history of the recent uprisings in Belgium. In the last piece, the Archduchess closes a large set of gates on Mars, who is emerging from hell, armed and looking threatening; along with the other piece of the Infanta bidding farewell to Don Philip IV., it's an incredibly remarkable painting.
From hence, we walked into the park, which for being entirely within the walls of the city is particularly remarkable: nor is it less pleasant than if in the most[Pg 34] solitary recesses; so naturally is it furnished with whatever may render it agreeable, melancholy, and country-like. Here is a stately heronry, divers springs of water, artificial cascades, rocks, grots; one whereof is composed of the extravagant roots of trees, cunningly built and hung together with wires. In this park are both fallow and red deer.
From here, we walked into the park, which, despite being completely within the city walls, is quite remarkable: it's just as pleasant as if it were in the most[Pg 34] secluded spots; it's naturally equipped with everything that makes it enjoyable, melancholic, and reminiscent of the countryside. There’s a grand heronry, several springs of water, man-made waterfalls, and rocks and grottoes; one grotto is made up of the twisted roots of trees, cleverly arranged and held together with wires. In this park, you can find both fallow and red deer.
From hence, we were led into the Menage, and out of that into a most sweet and delicious garden, where was another grot of more neat and costly materials, full of noble statues, and entertaining us with artificial music; but the hedge of water, in form of lattice-work, which the fountaineer caused to ascend out of the earth by degrees, exceedingly pleased and surprised me; for thus, with a pervious wall, or rather a palisade hedge of water, was the whole parterre environed.
From there, we were taken into the Menage, and from there into a beautiful and delightful garden, which had another grotto made of finer and more expensive materials, filled with impressive statues and playing pleasing music; but the water hedge, which was designed like a lattice, that the fountain creator made flow out of the ground gradually, really amazed and surprised me; because in this way, with a transparent wall, or rather a fence of water, the entire garden was surrounded.
There is likewise a fair aviary; and in the court next it are kept divers sorts of animals, rare and exotic fowl, as eagles, cranes, storks, bustards, pheasants of several kinds, and a duck having four wings. In another division of the same close are rabbits of an almost perfect yellow color.
There is also a nice aviary; and in the courtyard next to it, various types of animals are kept, including rare and exotic birds like eagles, cranes, storks, bustards, different kinds of pheasants, and a duck with four wings. In another section of the same area, there are rabbits with almost a perfect yellow color.
There was no Court now in the palace; the Infante Cardinal, who was the Governor of Flanders, being dead but newly, and every one in deep mourning.
There was no Court in the palace now; the Infante Cardinal, who had been the Governor of Flanders, had just passed away, and everyone was in deep mourning.
At near eleven o'clock, I repaired to his Majesty's agent, Sir Henry de Vic, who very courteously received me, and accommodated me with a coach and six horses, which carried me from Brussels to Ghent, where it was to meet my Lord of Arundel, Earl Marshal of England, who had requested me when I was at Antwerp to send it for him, if I went not thither myself.
At almost eleven o'clock, I went to his Majesty's agent, Sir Henry de Vic, who kindly welcomed me and arranged for a coach with six horses. This took me from Brussels to Ghent, where I was to meet my Lord of Arundel, the Earl Marshal of England, who had asked me while I was in Antwerp to send the coach for him if I wasn't going there myself.
Thus taking leave of Brussels and a sad Court, yet full of gallant persons (for in this small city, the acquaintance being universal, ladies and gentlemen, I perceived had great diversions, and frequent meetings), I hastened toward Ghent. On the way, I met with divers little wagons, prettily contrived, and full of peddling merchandise, drawn by mastiff dogs, harnessed completely like so many coach horses; in some four, in others six, as in Brussels itself I had observed. In Antwerp I saw, as I remember, four dogs draw five lusty children in a chariot: the master commands them whither he pleases, crying his wares[Pg 35] about the streets. After passing through Ouse, by six in the evening, I arrived at Ghent. This is a city of so great a circumference, that it is reported to be seven leagues round; but there is not half of it now built, much of it remaining in fields and desolate pastures even within the walls, which have strong gates toward the west, and two fair churches.
So, leaving Brussels behind and a sad court filled with impressive people (since in this small city, everyone knows each other, and I noticed that the ladies and gentlemen enjoyed great entertainment and frequent gatherings), I rushed toward Ghent. Along the way, I came across various small carts, nicely designed and full of goods, pulled by mastiff dogs, fully harnessed just like coach horses; some had four dogs, others six, just as I had noticed in Brussels. In Antwerp, if I remember correctly, I saw four dogs pulling five lively children in a cart: the owner directed them wherever he wanted, shouting his merchandise around the streets. After passing through Ouse, I arrived in Ghent around six in the evening. This city is so large that it’s said to be seven leagues around, but less than half of it is currently built, with much of it still fields and empty pastures even within the walls, which have strong gates to the west and two beautiful churches.
Here I beheld the palace wherein John of Gaunt and Charles V. were born; whose statue14 stands in the market-place, upon a high pillar, with his sword drawn, to which (as I was told) the magistrates and burghers were wont to repair upon a certain day every year with ropes about their necks, in token of submission and penance for an old rebellion of theirs; but now the hemp is changed into a blue ribbon. Here is planted the basilisco, or great gun, so much talked of. The Lys and the Scheldt meeting in this vast city, divide it into twenty-six islands, which are united by many bridges, somewhat resembling Venice. This night I supped with the Abbot of Andoyne, a pleasant and courteous priest.
Here I saw the palace where John of Gaunt and Charles V. were born; their statue14 stands in the marketplace, on a tall pillar, with his sword drawn. I was told that the magistrates and townspeople used to come there on a certain day each year with ropes around their necks, as a sign of submission and penance for an old rebellion; but now the ropes have been replaced with a blue ribbon. Here is the basilisk, or giant cannon, that everyone talks about. The Lys and the Scheldt rivers meet in this vast city, dividing it into twenty-six islands, which are connected by many bridges, somewhat like Venice. That night, I had dinner with the Abbot of Andoyne, a friendly and courteous priest.
8th October, 1641. I passed by a boat to Bruges, taking in at a redoubt a convoy of fourteen musketeers, because the other side of the river, being Contribution-land, was subject to the inroads and depredations of the bordering States. This river was cut by the famous Marquis Spinola, and is in my judgment a wonderful piece of labor, and a worthy public work, being in some places forced through the main rock, to an incredible depth, for thirty miles. At the end of each mile is built a small redoubt, which communicates a line to the next, and so the whole way, from whence we received many volleys of shot, in compliment to my Lord Marshal, who was in our vessel, a passenger with us. At five that evening, we were met by the magistrates of Bruges, who came out to convey my Lord to his lodgings, at whose cost he was entertained that night.
8th October, 1641. I took a boat to Bruges, picking up a group of fourteen musketeers at a fort because the other side of the river, known as Contribution-land, was vulnerable to incursions and raids from nearby territories. This river was constructed by the famous Marquis Spinola, and I believe it’s an impressive feat of engineering and a significant public work, as it was carved in some areas through solid rock to an incredible depth for thirty miles. At the end of each mile, a small fort is built that connects to the next one, and along the way, we received a lot of gunfire in honor of my Lord Marshal, who was on our boat with us. That evening at five, we were greeted by the magistrates of Bruges, who came to escort my Lord to his accommodations, where he was hosted for the night.
The morning after we went to see the Stadt-house and adjoining aqueduct, the church, and market-place, where we saw cheeses and butter piled up in heaps; also the fortifications and graffs, which are extremely large.
The morning after we visited the city hall and the nearby aqueduct, the church, and the marketplace, where we saw piles of cheese and butter; also the fortifications and moats, which are really big.
The 9th, we arrived at Ostend by a straight and artificial river. Here, with leave of the captain of the watch,[Pg 36] I was carried to survey the river and harbor, with fortifications on one side thereof: the east and south are mud and earth walls. It is a very strong place, and lately stood a memorable siege three years, three months, three weeks, and three days. I went to see the church of St. Peter, and the cloisters of the Franciscans.
On the 9th, we reached Ostend via a straight, man-made river. Here, with permission from the watch captain,[Pg 36] I was taken to examine the river and harbor, along with the fortifications on one side: the east and south features walls made of mud and earth. It's a very strong location and recently endured a notable siege that lasted three years, three months, three weeks, and three days. I visited St. Peter’s Church and the cloisters of the Franciscans.
10th October, 1641. I went by wagon, accompanied with a jovial commissary, to Dunkirk, the journey being made all on the sea sands. On our arrival, we first viewed the court of guards, the works, the townhouse, and the new church; the latter is very beautiful within; and another, wherein they showed us an excellent piece of "Our Savior's Bearing the Cross." The harbor, in two channels, coming up to the town, was choked with a multitude of prizes.
10th October, 1641. I traveled by wagon with a cheerful commissary to Dunkirk, making the journey entirely on the beach. Upon our arrival, we first checked out the guardhouse, the fortifications, the town hall, and the new church; the church is stunning inside. We also visited another church where they had an amazing depiction of "Our Savior Carrying the Cross." The harbor, with its two channels leading to the town, was filled with a lot of captured ships.
From hence, the next day, I marched three English miles toward the packet boat, being a pretty frigate of six guns, which embarked us for England about three in the afternoon.
The next day, I walked three English miles to the packet boat, which was a nice frigate with six guns, and we set sail for England around three in the afternoon.
At our going off, the fort, against which our pinnace anchored saluted my Lord Marshal with twelve great guns, which we answered with three. Not having the wind favorable, we anchored that night before Calais. About midnight, we weighed; and, at four in the morning, though not far from Dover, we could not make the pier till four that afternoon, the wind proving contrary and driving us westward: but at last we got on shore, October the 12th.
As we were leaving, the fort where our small ship was anchored fired twelve cannon shots in honor of my Lord Marshal, and we responded with three. Since the wind wasn’t in our favor, we stayed anchored that night off Calais. Around midnight, we set sail; however, despite being close to Dover by four in the morning, we couldn’t reach the pier until four that afternoon because the wind kept pushing us westward. But finally, we made it ashore on October 12th.
From Dover, I that night rode post to Canterbury. Here I visited the cathedral, then in great splendor; those famous windows being entire, since demolished by the fanatics. The next morning by Sittingbourne, I came to Rochester, and thence to Gravesend, where a light-horseman (as they call it) taking us in, we spent our tide as far as Greenwich. From hence, after we had a little refreshed ourselves at the College (for by reason of contagion then in London we balked the inns), we came to London, landing at Arundel stairs. Here I took leave of his Lordship, and retired to my lodgings in the Middle Temple, being about two in the morning, the 14th of October.
From Dover, I rode to Canterbury that night. I visited the cathedral, which was then very grand; those famous windows were intact, but they’ve since been destroyed by fanatics. The next morning, after passing through Sittingbourne, I arrived in Rochester, and then continued to Gravesend, where a light-horseman (as they call it) picked us up. We spent our time traveling as far as Greenwich. After refreshing ourselves at the College (as we avoided the inns due to an outbreak in London), we made our way to London, landing at Arundel stairs. Here, I said goodbye to his Lordship and returned to my lodgings in the Middle Temple, arriving around two in the morning on the 14th of October.
16th October, 1641. I went to see my brother at Wotton. On the 31st of that month (unfortunate for the[Pg 37] Irish Rebellion, which broke out on the 23d), I was one and twenty years of age.
16th October, 1641. I went to visit my brother at Wotton. On the 31st of that month (sadly for the[Pg 37] Irish Rebellion, which started on the 23rd), I turned twenty-one years old.
7th November, 1641. After receiving the Sacrament at Wotton church, I visited my Lord Marshal at Albury.
7th November, 1641. After taking Communion at Wotton church, I went to see my Lord Marshal at Albury.
23d November, 1641. I returned to London; and, on the 25th, saw his Majesty ride through the City after his coming out of Scotland, and a Peace proclaimed, with great acclamations and joy of the giddy people.
23rd November, 1641. I returned to London; and, on the 25th, I saw the King ride through the City after coming back from Scotland, with a Peace declared, amid great cheers and excitement from the crowd.
15th December, 1641. I was elected one of the Comptrollers of the Middle Temple revellers, as the fashion of the young students and gentlemen was, the Christmas being kept this year with great solemnity; but, being desirous to pass it in the country, I got leave to resign my staff of office, and went with my brother Richard to Wotton.
15th December, 1641. I was elected as one of the Comptrollers of the Middle Temple party, as was the trend among the young students and gentlemen, since this year's Christmas was celebrated with great seriousness; however, wanting to spend it in the countryside, I was granted permission to step down from my position and went to Wotton with my brother Richard.
10th January, 1642. I gave a visit to my cousin Hatton, of Ditton.
10th January, 1642. I visited my cousin Hatton, of Ditton.
19th January, 1642. I went to London, where I stayed till 5th of March, studying a little, but dancing and fooling more.
19th January, 1642. I went to London, where I stayed until 5th March, studying a bit, but mostly dancing and having fun.
3d October, 1642. To Chichester, and hence the next day to see the siege of Portsmouth; for now was that bloody difference between the King and Parliament broken out, which ended in the fatal tragedy so many years after. It was on the day of its being rendered to Sir William Waller; which gave me an opportunity of taking my leave of Colonel Goring, the governor, now embarking for France. This day was fought that signal battle at Edgehill. Thence I went to Southampton and Winchester, where I visited the castle, school, church, and King Arthur's Round Table; but especially the church, and its Saxon kings' monuments, which I esteemed a worthy antiquity.
3rd October, 1642. I went to Chichester, and then the next day to see the siege of Portsmouth; for now the bloody conflict between the King and Parliament had broken out, which eventually led to a tragic end many years later. It was the day the city was surrendered to Sir William Waller, which allowed me to say goodbye to Colonel Goring, the governor, who was now heading to France. On this day, the significant battle at Edgehill was fought. After that, I traveled to Southampton and Winchester, where I visited the castle, school, church, and King Arthur's Round Table; but I especially appreciated the church and its monuments to the Saxon kings, which I regarded as a valuable piece of history.
The 12th of November was the battle of Brentford, surprisingly fought; and to the great consternation of the City, had his Majesty (as it was believed he would) pursued his advantage. I came in with my horse and arms just at the retreat; but was not permitted to stay longer than the 15th, by reason of the army marching to Gloucester; which would have left both me and my brothers exposed to ruin, without any advantage to his Majesty.
The 12th of November was the battle of Brentford, unexpectedly fought; and to the great shock of the City, if his Majesty (as it was thought he would) had pursued his advantage. I arrived with my horse and weapons right as the retreat happened; but I wasn’t allowed to stay longer than the 15th, because the army was marching to Gloucester; which would have left both me and my brothers vulnerable to destruction, without any benefit to his Majesty.
7th December, 1642. I went from Wotton to London,[Pg 38] to see the so much celebrated line of communication, and on the 10th returned to Wotton, nobody knowing of my having been in his Majesty's army.
7th December, 1642. I traveled from Wotton to London,[Pg 38] to check out the famous line of communication, and on the 10th I came back to Wotton, with no one knowing that I had been in the King’s army.
10th March, 1643. I went to Hartingford-berry to visit my cousin, Keightly.
10th March, 1643. I went to Hartingford-berry to visit my cousin, Keightly.
11th March, 1643. I went to see my Lord of Salisbury's Palace at Hatfield, where the most considerable rarity, besides the house (inferior to few then in England for its architecture), were the garden and vineyard, rarely well watered and planted. They also showed us the picture of Secretary Cecil, in Mosaic work, very well done by some Italian hand.
11th March, 1643. I went to visit my Lord of Salisbury's Palace at Hatfield, where the most notable features, apart from the house (which was among the best in England for its architecture), were the garden and vineyard, which were exceptionally well-watered and planted. They also showed us a picture of Secretary Cecil, done in Mosaic, very well crafted by an Italian artist.
I must not forget what amazed us exceedingly in the night before, namely, a shining cloud in the air, in shape resembling a sword, the point reaching to the north; it was as bright as the moon, the rest of the sky being very serene. It began about eleven at night, and vanished not till above one, being seen by all the south of England. I made many journeys to and from London.
I can't forget what amazed us so much the night before: a glowing cloud in the sky that looked like a sword, with the tip pointing north. It was as bright as the moon, while the rest of the sky was quite clear. It started around eleven at night and didn't disappear until after one, visible to everyone in southern England. I traveled back and forth to London many times.
15th April, 1643. To Hatfield, and near the town of Hertford I went to see Sir J. Harrison's house new built. Returning to London, I called to see his Majesty's house and gardens at Theobald's, since demolished by the rebels.
15th April, 1643. I went to Hatfield, close to the town of Hertford, to check out Sir J. Harrison's newly built house. On my way back to London, I stopped by to see the king's house and gardens at Theobald's, which have since been destroyed by the rebels.
2d May, 1643. I went from Wotton to London, where I saw the furious and zealous people demolish that stately Cross in Cheapside.
2nd May, 1643. I traveled from Wotton to London, where I witnessed the angry and passionate crowd tear down that impressive Cross in Cheapside.
On the 4th I returned, with no little regret, for the confusion that threatened us. Resolving to possess myself in some quiet, if it might be, in a time of so great jealousy, I built by my brother's permission, a study, made a fish-pond, an island, and some other solitudes and retirements at Wotton; which gave the first occasion of improving them to those waterworks and gardens which afterward succeeded them, and became at that time the most famous of England.
On the 4th, I came back with quite a bit of regret because of the turmoil that surrounded us. Determined to find some peace during such a jealous time, I built a study with my brother's permission, created a fish pond, an island, and some other quiet spots at Wotton. This was the first step toward developing the waterworks and gardens that later followed, which became the most famous in England at that time.
12th July, 1643. I sent my black menage horse and furniture with a friend to his Majesty, then at Oxford.
12th July, 1643. I sent my black horse and equipment with a friend to the King, who was in Oxford at the time.
23d July, 1643. The Covenant being pressed, I absented myself; but, finding it impossible to evade the doing very unhandsome things, and which had been a great cause of my perpetual motions hitherto between Wotton and London, October the 2d, I obtained a[Pg 39] license of his Majesty, dated at Oxford and signed by the King, to travel again.
23rd July, 1643. When the Covenant was pushed, I stayed away; however, I realized it was impossible to avoid doing some very unbecoming things, which had been a major reason for my constant trips between Wotton and London. On October 2nd, I got a[Pg 39] license from His Majesty, dated in Oxford and signed by the King, allowing me to travel again.
6th November, 1643. Lying by the way from Wotton at Sir Ralph Whitfield's, at Blechingley (whither both my brothers had conducted me), I arrived at London on the 7th, and two days after took boat at the Tower-wharf, which carried me as far as Sittingbourne, though not without danger, I being only in a pair of oars, exposed to a hideous storm: but it pleased God that we got in before the peril was considerable. From thence, I went by post to Dover, accompanied with one Mr. Thicknesse, a very dear friend of mine.
6th November, 1643. While staying at Sir Ralph Whitfield's in Blechingley, where my brothers had taken me, I arrived in London on the 7th. Two days later, I took a boat from the Tower-wharf, which took me as far as Sittingbourne, though it was dangerous since we were only in a small boat and exposed to a terrible storm. Fortunately, we made it in before things got too risky. From there, I traveled by post to Dover, accompanied by my dear friend Mr. Thicknesse.
11th November, 1643. Having a reasonable good passage, though the weather was snowy and untoward enough, we came before Calais, where, as we went on shore, mistaking the tide, our shallop struck on the sands, with no little danger; but at length we got off.
11th November, 1643. We had a pretty good trip, even though the weather was snowy and not ideal. We arrived at Calais, and as we went ashore, we misjudged the tide, causing our boat to hit the sand, which was quite dangerous; but eventually, we managed to get free.
Calais is considered an extraordinary well-fortified place, in the old castle and new citadel regarding the sea. The haven consists of a long bank of sand, lying opposite to it. The market place and the church are remarkable things, besides those relics of our former dominion there. I remember there were engraven in stone, upon the front of an ancient dwelling which was showed us, these words in English—"God save the King," together with the name of the architect and date. The walls of the town are substantial; but the situation toward the land is not pleasant, by reason of the marshes and low grounds about it.
Calais is seen as an incredibly well-fortified location, with the old castle and the new citadel facing the sea. The harbor features a long stretch of sand directly across from it. The marketplace and the church are notable landmarks, in addition to the remnants of our past rule there. I remember there were words carved in stone on the front of an old house we were shown, which read in English—"God save the King," along with the architect's name and the date. The town's walls are solid; however, the landward side is not very appealing due to the surrounding marshes and low-lying areas.
12th November, 1643. After dinner we took horse with the Messagere, hoping to have arrived at Boulogne that night; but there fell so great a snow, accompanied with hail, rain, and sudden darkness, that we had much ado to gain the next village; and in this passage, being to cross a valley by a causeway, and a bridge built over a small river, the rain that had fallen making it an impetuous stream for near a quarter of a mile, my horse slipping had almost been the occasion of my perishing. We none of us went to bed; for the soldiers in those parts leaving little in the villages, we had enough to do to get ourselves dry, by morning, between the fire and the fresh straw. The next day early, we arrived at Boulogne.[Pg 40]
12th November, 1643. After dinner, we got on our horses with the Messenger, hoping to reach Boulogne that night. However, a heavy snowstorm hit, along with hail, rain, and sudden darkness, making it hard for us to get to the next village. While crossing a valley on a causeway and a bridge over a small river, the rain had turned it into a raging stream for nearly a quarter of a mile. My horse slipped, nearly causing my downfall. None of us went to bed; the soldiers in that area left little behind in the villages, so we had to do our best to get dry by morning, huddling by the fire and on fresh straw. The next day, we arrived at Boulogne early.[Pg 40]
This is a double town, one part of it situate on a high rock, or downs; the other, called the lower town, is yet with a great declivity toward the sea; both of them defended by a strong castle, which stands on a notable eminence. Under the town runs the river, which is yet but an inconsiderable brook. Henry VIII., in the siege of this place is said to have used those great leathern guns which I have since beheld in the Tower of London, inscribed, "Non Marte opus est cui non deficit Mercurius"; if at least the history be true, which my Lord Herbert doubts.
This town has two parts: one sits atop a high rock or hill, while the other, known as the lower town, slopes down towards the sea. Both areas are protected by a strong castle that stands on a notable rise. Below the town flows a river that is not much more than a small stream. It’s said that during the siege of this place, Henry VIII used those massive leather cannons that I've seen later at the Tower of London, which bear the inscription, "Non Marte opus est cui non deficit Mercurius"; if the history is accurate, though my Lord Herbert questions it.
The next morning, in some danger of parties [Spanish] surprising us, we came to Montreuil, built on the summit of a most conspicuous hill, environed with fair and ample meadows; but all the suburbs had been from time to time ruined, and were now lately burnt by the Spanish inroads. This town is fortified with two very deep dry ditches; the walls about the bastions and citadel are a noble piece of masonry. The church is more glorious without than within; the market place large; but the inhabitants are miserably poor. The next day, we came to Abbeville, having passed all this way in continual expectation of the volunteers, as they call them. This town affords a good aspect toward the hill from whence we descended: nor does it deceive us; for it is handsomely built, and has many pleasant and useful streams passing through it, the main river being the Somme, which discharges itself into the sea at St. Valery, almost in view of the town. The principal church is a very handsome piece of Gothic architecture, and the ports and ramparts sweetly planted for defense and ornament. In the morning, they brought us choice of guns and pistols to sell at reasonable rates, and neatly made, being here a merchandise of great account, the town abounding in gunsmiths.
The next morning, worried about surprise attacks from the Spanish, we arrived in Montreuil, built on top of a prominent hill surrounded by beautiful, spacious meadows. However, all the suburbs had been damaged over time and were recently burned down by Spanish raids. This town is protected by two very deep dry ditches; the walls around the bastions and citadel are impressive examples of masonry. The church is more magnificent on the outside than inside, and the marketplace is large, but the residents are extremely poor. The following day, we headed to Abbeville, having traveled this way while constantly expecting the so-called volunteers. This town offers a great view of the hill we came down from, and it doesn’t disappoint; it’s well-built and has many pleasant and useful streams running through it, the main river being the Somme, which flows into the sea at St. Valery, almost in sight of the town. The main church is an impressive piece of Gothic architecture, and the gates and ramparts are beautifully designed for both defense and decoration. In the morning, they offered us a selection of guns and pistols for sale at reasonable prices, all well-made, as this is a place known for its skilled gunsmiths.
Hence we advanced to Beauvais, another town of good note, and having the first vineyards we had seen. The next day to Beaumont, and the morrow to Paris, having taken our repast at St. Denis, two leagues from that great city. St. Denis is considerable only for its stately cathedral, and the dormitory of the French kings, there inhumed as ours at Westminster Abbey. The treasury is esteemed one of the richest in Europe. The church was built by[Pg 41] King Dagobert,15 but since much enlarged, being now 390 feet long, 100 in breadth, and 80 in height, without comprehending the cover: it has also a very high shaft of stone, and the gates are of brass. Here, while the monks conducted us, we were showed the ancient and modern sepulchers of their kings, beginning with the founder to Louis his son, with Charles Martel and Pepin, son and father of Charlemagne. These lie in the choir, and without it are many more: among the rest that of Bertrand du Guesclin, Constable of France; in the chapel of Charles V., all his posterity; and near him the magnificent sepulcher of Francis I., with his children, wars, victories, and triumphs engraven in marble. In the nave of the church lies the catafalque, or hearse, of Louis XIII., Henry II., a noble tomb of Francis II., and Charles IX. Above are bodies of several Saints; below, under a state of black velvet, the late Louis XIII., father of this present monarch. Every one of the ten chapels, or oratories, had some Saints in them; among the rest, one of the Holy Innocents. The treasury is kept in the sacristy above, in which are crosses of massy gold and silver, studded with precious stones, one of gold three feet high, set with sapphires, rubies, and great oriental pearls. Another given by Charles the Great, having a noble amethyst in the middle of it, stones and pearls of inestimable value. Among the still more valuable relics are, a nail from our Savior's Cross, in a box of gold full of precious stones; a crucifix of the true wood of the Cross, carved by Pope Clement III., enchased in a crystal covered with gold; a box in which is some of the Virgin's hair; some of the linen in which our blessed Savior was wrapped at his nativity; in a huge reliquary, modeled like a church, some of our Savior's blood, hair, clothes, linen with which he wiped the Apostles' feet; with many other equally authentic toys, which the friar who conducted us would have us believe were authentic relics. Among the treasures is the crown of Charlemagne, his seven-foot high scepter and hand of justice, the agraffe of his royal mantle, beset with diamonds and rubies, his sword, belt, and spurs of gold; the crown of St. Louis, covered with precious stones, among which is one vast ruby, uncut, of inestimable value, weighing 300 carats (under which is set one of the thorns of our blessed Savior's[Pg 42] crown), his sword, seal, and hand of justice. The two crowns of Henry IV., his scepter, hand of justice, and spurs. The two crowns of his son Louis. In the cloak-royal of Anne of Bretagne is a very great and rare ruby. Divers books covered with solid plates of gold, and studded with precious stones. Two vases of beryl, two of agate, whereof one is esteemed for its bigness, color, and embossed carving, the best now to be seen: by a special favor I was permitted to take the measure and dimensions of it; the story is a Bacchanalia and sacrifice to Priapus; a very holy thing truly, and fit for a cloister! It is really antique, and the noblest jewel there. There is also a large gondola of chrysolite, a huge urn of porphyry, another of calcedon, a vase of onyx, the largest I had ever seen of that stone; two of crystal; a morsel of one of the waterpots in which our Savior did his first miracle; the effigies of the Queen of Saba, of Julius, Augustus, Mark Antony, Cleopatra, and others, upon sapphires, topazes, agates, and cornelians: that of the queen of Saba16 has a Moorish face; those of Julius and Nero on agates are rarely colored and cut. A cup in which Solomon was used to drink, and an Apollo on a great amethyst. There lay in a window a mirror of a kind of stone said to have belonged to the poet Virgil. Charlemagne's chessmen, full of Arabic characters. In the press next the door, the brass lantern full of crystals, said to have conducted Judas and his company to apprehend our blessed Savior. A fair unicorn's horn, sent by a king of Persia, about seven feet long. In another press (over which stands the picture in oil of their Orleans Amazon with her sword), the effigies of the late French kings in wax, like ours in Westminster, covered with their robes; with a world of other rarities. PARIS Having rewarded our courteous friar, we took horse for Paris, where we arrived about five in the afternoon. In the way were fair crosses of stone carved with fleur-de-lis at every furlong's end, where they affirm St. Denis rested and laid down his head after martyrdom, carrying it from the place where this monastery is builded. We lay at Paris at the Ville de Venice; where, after I had something refreshed, I went to visit Sir Richard Browne, his Majesty's Resident with the French king.
So, we made our way to Beauvais, a well-regarded town, where we saw our first vineyards. The next day we headed to Beaumont, and then to Paris, stopping for a meal at St. Denis, which is two leagues from the grand city. St. Denis is notable mainly for its impressive cathedral and the resting place of French kings, just like ours at Westminster Abbey. Its treasury is considered one of the richest in Europe. The church was built by King Dagobert, but it has been significantly enlarged since, now measuring 390 feet long, 100 feet wide, and 80 feet high, not including the roof. It also features a very tall stone shaft, and the gates are made of brass. While the monks guided us, we were shown the ancient and modern tombs of their kings, starting with the founder up to Louis his son, including Charles Martel and Pepin, the father and son of Charlemagne. These tombs are located in the choir, and there are many more outside of it, including that of Bertrand du Guesclin, Constable of France; in the chapel of Charles V., all his descendants; and nearby the magnificent tomb of Francis I., adorned with engravings of his children, wars, victories, and triumphs in marble. In the main part of the church lies the hearse of Louis XIII., Henry II., a noble tomb of Francis II., and Charles IX. Above are the remains of several saints; below, under a black velvet covering, the late Louis XIII., father of the current king. Each of the ten chapels, or oratories, housed the remains of some saints, including one of the Holy Innocents. The treasury is located in the sacristy above, filled with gold and silver crosses studded with precious stones, including a three-foot-high gold cross set with sapphires, rubies, and large Oriental pearls. Another, given by Charlemagne, features a noble amethyst at its center, alongside stones and pearls of immense value. Among the even more valuable relics are a nail from our Savior's Cross, kept in a gold box filled with precious stones; a crucifix made from the true wood of the Cross, carved by Pope Clement III., encased in crystal and covered with gold; a box containing some of the Virgin's hair; linens from the nativity of our blessed Savior; and a large reliquary shaped like a church, holding some of our Savior's blood, hair, clothing, and the linen with which he wiped the Apostles' feet, along with many other supposed authentic relics that the friar who led us insisted were genuine. Among the treasures is Charlemagne's crown, his seven-foot tall scepter and hand of justice, the clasp of his royal mantle adorned with diamonds and rubies, and his sword, belt, and spurs made of gold; St. Louis's crown, covered in precious stones, including a massive uncut ruby of incredible value weighing 300 carats (under which lies one of the thorns from our blessed Savior's crown), as well as his sword, seal, and hand of justice. The two crowns of Henry IV., his scepter, hand of justice, and spurs. The two crowns of his son Louis. In the royal cloak of Anne of Bretagne is a very large and rare ruby. Various books are covered in solid gold plates, studded with precious stones. Two vases made of beryl, and two made of agate, one of which is esteemed for its size, color, and embossed carvings, considered the best currently in existence: I was given special permission to take its measurements; the depicted story is a Bacchanalia and sacrifice to Priapus; quite a holy thing indeed, and suitable for a monastery! It is truly ancient and the most valuable jewel there. There is also a large gondola made of chrysolite, a huge urn of porphyry, another of chalcedony, a vase of onyx, the largest I had ever seen made of that stone; two of crystal; a piece of one of the water pots used by our Savior for his first miracle; representations of the Queen of Sheba, Julius, Augustus, Marc Antony, Cleopatra, and others on sapphires, topazes, agates, and cornelians: the one of the queen of Sheba has a Moorish face; those of Julius and Nero on agates are exceptionally colored and cut. A cup that Solomon would drink from, and an Apollo on a large amethyst. In a window there lay a mirror made from a stone said to have belonged to the poet Virgil. Charlemagne's chess pieces, inscribed with Arabic characters. In the press next to the door, a brass lantern filled with crystals, said to have guided Judas and his companions to capture our blessed Savior. An elegant unicorn's horn, sent by a king of Persia, about seven feet long. In another press (over which is an oil painting of their Orleans Amazon with her sword), the wax figures of the late French kings, like ours at Westminster, dressed in their robes; with a host of other rarities. PARIS After rewarding our courteous friar, we mounted our horses for Paris, arriving around five in the afternoon. Along the way were beautiful stone crosses adorned with fleur-de-lis at every furlong, where they claim St. Denis rested and laid down his head after martyrdom, carrying it from the spot where this monastery was built. We stayed at the Ville de Venice in Paris; after I refreshed myself somewhat, I went to visit Sir Richard Browne, his Majesty’s representative with the French king.
5th December, 1643. The Earl of Norwich came as Ambassador extraordinary: I went to meet him in a coach and six horses, at the palace of Monsieur de Bassompière, where I saw that gallant person, his gardens, terraces, and rare prospects. My lord was waited on by the master of the ceremonies, and a very great cavalcade of men of quality, to the Palais Cardinal, where on the 23d he had audience of the French king, and the queen Regent his mother, in the golden chamber of presence. From thence, I conducted him to his lodgings in Rue St. Denis, and so took my leave.
5th December, 1643. The Earl of Norwich arrived as an extraordinary Ambassador: I went to meet him in a coach with six horses at the palace of Monsieur de Bassompière, where I admired his impressive gardens, terraces, and beautiful views. My lord was attended by the master of ceremonies and a large procession of distinguished men to the Palais Cardinal, where on the 23rd he had an audience with the French king and his mother, the queen Regent, in the stunning golden chamber. After that, I took him to his lodgings on Rue St. Denis, and then I said goodbye.
24th December, 1643. I went with some company to see some remarkable places without the city: as the Isle, and how it is encompassed by the Rivers Seine and the Ouse. The city is divided into three parts, whereof the town is greatest. The city lies between it and the University in form of an island. Over the Seine is a stately bridge called Pont Neuf, begun by Henry III. in 1578, finished by Henry IV. his successor. It is all of hewn freestone found under the streets, but more plentifully at Montmartre, and consists of twelve arches, in the midst of which ends the point of an island, on which are built handsome artificers' houses. There is one large passage for coaches, and two for foot passengers three or four feet higher, and of convenient breadth for eight or ten to go abreast. On the middle of this stately bridge, on one side, stands the famous statue of Henry the Great on horseback, exceeding the natural proportion by much; and, on the four faces of a stately pedestal (which is composed of various sorts of polished marbles and rich moldings), inscriptions of his victories and most signal actions are engraven in brass. The statue and horse are of copper, the work of the great John di Bologna, and sent from Florence by Ferdinand the First, and Cosmo the Second, uncle and cousin to Mary de Medicis, the wife of King Henry, whose statue it represents. The place where it is erected is inclosed with a strong and beautiful grate of iron, about which there are always mountebanks showing their feats to the idle passengers. From hence is a rare prospect toward the Louvre and suburbs of St. Germains, the Isle du Palais, and Nôtre Dame. At the foot of this bridge is a water-house, on the front whereof, at a great height, is the story of Our Savior and the woman of[Pg 44] Samaria pouring water out of a bucket. Above, is a very rare dial of several motions, with a chime, etc. The water is conveyed by huge wheels, pumps, and other engines, from the river beneath. The confluence of the people and multitude of coaches passing every moment over the bridge, to a new spectator is an agreeable diversion. Other bridges there are, as that of Nôtre Dame and the Pont-au-Change, etc., fairly built, with houses of stone, which are laid over this river; only the Pont St. Anne, landing the suburbs of St. Germains at the Tuileries, is built of wood, having likewise a water house in the midst of it, and a statue of Neptune casting water out of a whale's mouth, of lead, but much inferior to the Samaritan.
December 24, 1643. I went out with some friends to check out some interesting places outside the city, like the Isle, which is surrounded by the Seine and Ouse rivers. The city is divided into three parts, with the town being the largest. It sits between the town and the University, forming an island. There's an impressive bridge over the Seine called Pont Neuf, started by Henry III in 1578 and completed by his successor, Henry IV. It's made entirely of cut freestone found under the streets, but more abundantly at Montmartre, featuring twelve arches, with the tip of the island underneath it, where nice craftsmen's houses are built. There’s a wide passage for coaches and two narrower ones for pedestrians, elevated a bit above street level, wide enough for eight or ten people to walk side by side. In the middle of this grand bridge, on one side, is the famous statue of Henry the Great on horseback, significantly larger than life. On the four sides of an impressive pedestal made of various polished marbles and intricate moldings, inscriptions of his victories and notable achievements are carved in bronze. The statue and horse are made of copper, crafted by the great Giovanni Bologna, and sent from Florence by Ferdinand I and Cosimo II, who were related to Mary de Medici, the wife of King Henry, whom the statue represents. The area around it is enclosed by a strong and beautiful iron grating, where street performers often entertain the idle passersby. From here, you get a great view of the Louvre, the suburbs of St. Germain, the Isle du Palais, and Notre Dame. At the base of this bridge, there’s a water house that features a high relief of Our Savior and the Samaritan woman pouring water from a bucket. Above it is a unique dial with multiple motions and a chime. The water is pumped up from the river below using large wheels, pumps, and other machinery. The constant flow of people and coaches crossing the bridge offers an enjoyable spectacle for a newcomer. There are other bridges, like Notre Dame and the Pont-au-Change, which are beautifully constructed with stone houses along them, spanning the river; only the Pont St. Anne, connecting the St. Germain suburbs at the Tuileries, is made of wood, and it has a water house in the middle too, featuring a statue of Neptune pouring water from a whale's mouth made of lead, but it’s much less impressive than the Samaritan.
The University lies southwest on higher ground, contiguous to, but the lesser part of, Paris. They reckon no less than sixty-five colleges; but they in nothing approach ours at Oxford for state and order. The booksellers dwell within the University. The schools (of which more hereafter) are very regular.
The University is located southwest on elevated land, adjacent to, but a smaller part of, Paris. They have at least sixty-five colleges, but none match ours at Oxford in terms of prestige and organization. The booksellers are based within the University. The schools (more on this later) are quite orderly.
The suburbs are those of St. Denis, Honoré, St. Marcel, St. Jaques, St. Michael, St. Victoire, and St. Germains, which last is the largest, and where the nobility and persons of best quality are seated: and truly Paris, comprehending the suburbs, is, for the material the houses are built with, and many noble and magnificent piles, one of the most gallant cities in the world; large in circuit, of a round form, very populous, but situated in a bottom, environed with gentle declivities, rendering some places very dirty, and making it smell as if sulphur were mingled with the mud; yet it is paved with a kind of freestone, of near a foot square, which renders it more easy to walk on than our pebbles in London.
The suburbs include St. Denis, Honoré, St. Marcel, St. Jacques, St. Michael, St. Victoire, and St. Germains, the largest of them, where the nobility and high-quality residents are located. Truly, when you consider the suburbs, Paris is one of the most impressive cities in the world, built from fine materials and containing many noble and beautiful buildings. It has a large, round shape and is very populated but sits in a low area surrounded by gentle slopes, which makes some parts quite dirty and gives off an odor reminiscent of sulfur mixed with mud. Nevertheless, its streets are paved with large blocks of freestone, nearly a foot square, making them easier to walk on than the pebbles in London.
On Christmas eve, I went to see the Cathedral at Nôtre Dame, erected by Philip Augustus, but begun by King Robert, son of Hugh Capet. It consists of a Gothic fabric, sustained with 120 pillars, which make two aisles in the church round about the choir, without comprehending the chapels, being 174 paces long, 60 wide, and 100 high. The choir is inclosed with stonework graven with the sacred history, and contains forty-five chapels chancelled with iron. At the front of the chief entrance are statues in relievo of the kings, twenty-eight in number, from Childebert to the founder, Philip; and above them[Pg 45] are two high square towers, and another of a smaller size, bearing a spire in the middle, where the body of the church forms a cross. The great tower is ascended by 389 steps, having twelve galleries from one to the other. They greatly reverence the crucifix over the screen of the choir, with an image of the Blessed Virgin. There are some good modern paintings hanging on the pillars. The most conspicuous statute is the huge colossal one of St. Christopher; with divers other figures of men, houses, prospects and rocks, about this gigantic piece; being of one stone, and more remarkable for its bulk than any other perfection. This is the prime church of France for dignity, having archdeacons, vicars, canons, priests, and chaplains in good store, to the number of 127. It is also the palace of the archbishop. The young king was there with a great and martial guard, who entered the nave of the church with drums and fifes, at the ceasing of which I was entertained with the church music; and so I left him.
On Christmas Eve, I went to see the Cathedral at Notre Dame, built by Philip Augustus but originally started by King Robert, son of Hugh Capet. It has a Gothic structure supported by 120 pillars, creating two aisles around the choir, not including the chapels. The cathedral is 174 paces long, 60 wide, and 100 high. The choir is surrounded by stonework featuring scenes from sacred history and contains forty-five chapels enclosed with iron. At the main entrance, there are twenty-eight relief statues of kings ranging from Childebert to the founder, Philip; above them[Pg 45] are two tall square towers and a smaller one with a spire in the middle, where the body of the church forms a cross. The main tower can be climbed by 389 steps, which include twelve galleries connecting different levels. They hold the crucifix above the choir screen in great reverence, alongside an image of the Blessed Virgin. Some impressive modern paintings hang on the pillars. The most notable statue is the massive one of St. Christopher, surrounded by various figures, houses, landscapes, and rocks—it’s all carved from a single stone, remarkable more for its size than any other quality. This is the most prestigious church in France, with a good number of archdeacons, vicars, canons, priests, and chaplains totaling 127. It’s also the residence of the archbishop. The young king was there with a large, martial guard, entering the nave of the church with drums and fifes, after which I enjoyed the church music before leaving.
4th January, 1644. I passed this day with one Mr. J. Wall, an Irish gentleman, who had been a friar in Spain, and afterward a reader in St. Isodore's chair, at Rome; but was, I know not how, getting away, and pretending to be a soldier of fortune, an absolute cavalier, having, as he told us, been a captain of horse in Germany. It is certain he was an excellent disputant, and so strangely given to it that nothing could pass him. He would needs persuade me to go with him this morning to the Jesuits' College, to witness his polemical talent. We found the Fathers in their Church at the Rue St. Antoine, where one of them showed us that noble fabric, which for its cupola, pavings, incrustations of marble, the pulpit, altars (especially the high altar), organ, lavatorium, etc., but above all, for the richly carved and incomparable front I esteem to be one of the most perfect pieces of architecture in Europe, emulating even some of the greatest now at Rome itself. But this not being what our friar sought, he led us into the adjoining convent, where, having shown us the library, they began a very hot dispute on some points of divinity, which our cavalier contested only to show his pride, and to that indiscreet height, that the Jesuits would hardly bring us to our coach, they being put beside all patience.[Pg 46] The next day, we went into the University, and into the College of Navarre, which is a spacious, well-built quadrangle, having a very noble library.
4th January, 1644. I spent the day with a man named Mr. J. Wall, an Irish gentleman who had been a friar in Spain and later a lecturer in St. Isidore's chair in Rome. However, for reasons I can't explain, he was pretending to be a soldier of fortune, claiming he had been a cavalry captain in Germany. It's clear he was a skilled debater, so much so that nothing could escape his scrutiny. He insisted I join him this morning at the Jesuits' College to showcase his debating skills. We found the Jesuits in their Church on Rue St. Antoine, where one of them showed us the impressive structure, which I consider one of the finest examples of architecture in Europe, with its dome, flooring, marble inlays, pulpit, altars (especially the main altar), organ, and washbasin. Above all, the intricately carved and unique façade rivals some of the greatest buildings even in Rome. However, since this wasn't what our friar was after, he took us into the adjacent convent where, after showing us the library, a heated argument broke out about some theological matters. Our cavalier only argued to show off, reaching such an unreasonable level of pride that the Jesuits could barely manage to get us back to our carriage, overwhelmed by their loss of patience.[Pg 46] The next day, we visited the University and the College of Navarre, which is a spacious, well-constructed courtyard with a grand library.
Thence to the Sorbonne, an ancient fabric built by one Robert de Sorbonne, whose name it retains, but the restoration which the late Cardinal de Richelieu has made to it renders it one of the most excellent modern buildings; the sumptuous church, of admirable architecture, is far superior to the rest. The cupola, portico, and whole design of the church, are very magnificent.
From there to the Sorbonne, an old institution founded by Robert de Sorbonne, after whom it is named. However, the renovations made by the late Cardinal de Richelieu have transformed it into one of the finest modern buildings. The magnificent church, with its remarkable architecture, stands out significantly from the rest. The dome, portico, and overall design of the church are truly magnificent.
We entered into some of the schools, and in that of divinity we found a grave Doctor in his chair, with a multitude of auditors, who all write as he dictates; and this they call a Course. After we had sat a little, our cavalier started up, and rudely enough began to dispute with the doctor; at which, and especially as he was clad in the Spanish habit, which in Paris is the greatest bugbear imaginable, the scholars and doctor fell into such a fit of laughter, that nobody could be heard speak for a while: but silence being obtained, he began to speak Latin, and made his apology in so good a style, that their derision was turned to admiration; and beginning to argue, he so baffled the Professor, that with universal applause they all rose up, and did him great honors, waiting on us to the very street and our coach, and testifying great satisfaction.
We went into some of the schools, and in the divinity one, we found a serious Doctor in his chair, with a crowd of students, all writing as he dictated; they called this a Course. After we sat for a bit, our cavalier jumped up and rudely started arguing with the doctor; this, especially since he was dressed in Spanish attire—which is the biggest scare in Paris—made everyone, including the doctor, burst into laughter, and no one could be heard for a while. But once things quieted down, he started speaking Latin and made his apology in such an impressive way that their mockery turned into admiration; as he began to argue, he completely outsmarted the Professor, and with overwhelming applause, everyone stood up and honored him, accompanying us all the way to the street and our coach, showing great satisfaction.
2d February, 1644. I heard the news of my nephew George's birth, which was on January 15th, English style, 1644.
2d February, 1644. I heard the news of my nephew George's birth, which was on January 15th, 1644, according to the English calendar.
3d February, 1644. I went to the Exchange. The late addition to the buildings is very noble; but the galleries where they sell their petty merchandise nothing so stately as ours at London, no more than the place where they walk below, being only a low vault.
3rd February, 1644. I went to the Exchange. The recent expansion of the buildings is impressive; however, the galleries where they sell their low-end goods aren't nearly as grand as ours in London, and the area where they stroll below is just a low vault.
The Palaise, as they call the upper part, was built in the time of Philip the Fair, noble and spacious. The great Hall annexed to it, is arched with stone, having a range of pillars in the middle, round which, and at the sides, are shops of all kinds, especially booksellers'. One side is full of pews for the clerks of the advocates, who swarm here (as ours at Westminster). At one of the ends stands an altar, at which mass is said daily. Within are several chambers, courts, treasuries, etc. Above that is[Pg 47] the most rich and glorious Salle d'Audience, the chamber of St. Louis, and other superior Courts where the Parliament sits, richly gilt on embossed carvings and frets, and exceedingly beautified.
The Palaise, as they call the upper part, was built during the time of Philip the Fair and is both noble and spacious. The large Hall attached to it has stone arches and a row of pillars in the middle, surrounded by all kinds of shops, especially bookshops. One side is lined with pews for the clerks of the advocates, who crowd here like ours at Westminster. At one end, there’s an altar where mass is held daily. Inside, there are several chambers, courts, treasuries, and more. Above that is[Pg 47] the most luxurious and impressive Salle d'Audience, the chamber of St. Louis, and other higher Courts where the Parliament meets, richly decorated with gilt embossed carvings and intricate designs, making it exceedingly beautiful.
Within the place where they sell their wares, is another narrower gallery, full of shops and toys, etc., which looks down into the prison-yard. Descending by a large pair of stairs, we passed by Sainte Chapelle, which is a church built by St. Louis, 1242, after the Gothic manner: it stands on another church, which is under it, sustained by pillars at the sides, which seem so weak as to appear extraordinary in the artist. This chapel is most famous for its relics, having as they pretend, almost the entire crown of thorns: the agate patine, rarely sculptured, judged one of the largest and best in Europe. There was now a very beautiful spire erecting. The court below is very spacious, capable of holding many coaches, and surrounded with shops, especially engravers', goldsmiths', and watchmakers'. In it are a fair fountain and portico. The Isle du Palais consists of a triangular brick building, whereof one side, looking to the river, is inhabited by goldsmiths. Within the court are private dwellings. The front, looking on the great bridge, is possessed by mountebanks, operators, and puppet-players. On the other part, is the every day's market for all sorts of provisions, especially bread, herbs, flowers, orange trees, choice shrubs. Here is a shop called NOAH'S ARK, where are sold all curiosities, natural or artificial, Indian or European, for luxury or use, as cabinets, shells, ivory, porcelain, dried fishes, insects, birds, pictures, and a thousand exotic extravagances. Passing hence, we viewed the port Dauphine, an arch of excellent workmanship; the street bearing the same name, is ample and straight.
In the place where they sell their goods, there’s a narrower gallery filled with shops and toys that overlooks the prison yard. After going down a large set of stairs, we passed by Sainte Chapelle, a church built by St. Louis in 1242, designed in the Gothic style. It stands above another church beneath it, supported by pillars on the sides that look surprisingly weak for such an impressive design. This chapel is well-known for its relics, claiming to possess almost the entire crown of thorns, and features a rare, beautifully carved agate patina that’s considered one of the largest and finest in Europe. At the moment, a stunning spire is being erected. The spacious courtyard below can accommodate many carriages and is lined with shops, particularly those of engravers, goldsmiths, and watchmakers. It has a lovely fountain and a portico. The Isle du Palais has a triangular brick building; one side facing the river is home to goldsmiths. Within the courtyard are private residences. The front side facing the large bridge is filled with street performers, operators, and puppeteers. On the other side is the daily market for all kinds of provisions, especially bread, herbs, flowers, orange trees, and select shrubs. There’s a shop called NOAH'S ARK, selling all sorts of curiosities, both natural and artificial, from India and Europe, for luxury or practical use, including cabinets, shells, ivory, porcelain, dried fish, insects, birds, paintings, and a thousand exotic oddities. From there, we admired the port Dauphine, an arch of excellent craftsmanship; the street of the same name is wide and straight.
4th February, 1644. I went to see the Marais de Temple, where are a noble church and palace, heretofore dedicated to the Knights Templar, now converted to a piazza, not much unlike ours at Covent Garden; but large and not so pleasant, though built all about with divers considerable palaces.
4th February, 1644. I visited the Marais de Temple, which has a grand church and palace that were originally dedicated to the Knights Templar but are now turned into a square, somewhat similar to our Covent Garden; however, it’s larger and not as nice, though surrounded by various impressive palaces.
The Church of St. Geneviève is a place of great devotion, dedicated to another of their Amazons, said to have delivered the city from the English; for which she is esteemed the tutelary saint of Paris. It stands on a[Pg 48] steep eminence, having a very high spire, and is governed by canons regular. At the Palais Royal Henry IV. built a fair quadrangle of stately palaces, arched underneath. In the middle of a spacious area, stands on a noble pedestal a brazen statue of Louis XIII., which, though made in imitation of that in the Roman capitol, is nothing so much esteemed as that on the Pont Neuf.
The Church of St. Geneviève is a site of deep devotion, dedicated to another of their brave figures, said to have saved the city from the English; for which she is celebrated as the patron saint of Paris. It sits on a[Pg 48] steep high point, featuring a tall spire, and is run by regular canons. At the Palais Royal, Henry IV built a beautiful square surrounded by impressive palaces, with arches underneath. In the center of a large area stands a grand statue of Louis XIII. on a noble pedestal, made of bronze, which, although modeled after the one in the Roman Capitol, is not as highly regarded as the one on the Pont Neuf.
The hospital of the Quinze-Vingts, in the Rue St. Honoré, is an excellent foundation; but above all is the Hôtel Dieu for men and women, near Nôtre Dame, a princely, pious, and expensive structure. That of the Charité gave me great satisfaction, in seeing how decently and christianly the sick people are attended, even to delicacy. I have seen them served by noble persons, men and women. They have also gardens, walks, and fountains. Divers persons are here cut for the stone, with great success, yearly in May. The two Châtelets (supposed to have been built by Julius Cæsar) are places of judicature in criminal causes; to which is a strong prison. The courts are spacious and magnificent.
The Quinze-Vingts hospital on Rue St. Honoré is a great establishment; but above all, there's the Hôtel Dieu for men and women near Notre Dame, which is an impressive, caring, and costly facility. I found the Charité particularly satisfying, seeing how decently and compassionately they care for the sick, even with attention to detail. I've seen them served by noble individuals, both men and women. They also have gardens, walkways, and fountains. Many people come here for stone surgery with great success every year in May. The two Châtelets (which are believed to have been built by Julius Caesar) are places where criminal cases are judged, and there's a strong prison attached to them. The courts are large and magnificent.
8th February, 1644. I took coach and went to see the famous Jardine Royale, which is an inclosure walled in, consisting of all varieties of ground for planting and culture of medical simples. It is well chosen, having in it hills, meadows, wood and upland, natural and artificial, and is richly stored with exotic plants. In the middle of the parterre is a fair fountain. There is a very fine house, chapel, laboratory, orangery, and other accommodations for the President, who is always one of the king's chief physicians.
8th February, 1644. I took a coach and went to see the famous Jardine Royale, which is a walled area filled with all kinds of land for growing and cultivating medicinal plants. It’s well laid out, featuring hills, meadows, woods, and higher ground, both natural and man-made, and it's filled with exotic plants. In the center of the garden is a beautiful fountain. There is a very nice house, chapel, laboratory, orangery, and other facilities for the President, who is always one of the king's chief doctors.
From hence, we went to the other side of the town, and to some distance from it, to the Bois de Vincennes, going by the Bastille, which is the fortress, tower, and magazine of this great city. It is very spacious within, and there the Grand Master of the artillery has his house, with fair gardens and walks.
From there, we went to the other side of town, and a bit farther out to the Bois de Vincennes, passing by the Bastille, which is the fortress, tower, and armory of this great city. It is very spacious inside, and that's where the Grand Master of the artillery has his house, complete with nice gardens and pathways.
The Bois de Vincennes has in it a square and noble castle, with magnificent apartments, fit for a royal court, not forgetting the chapel. It is the chief prison for persons of quality. About it there is a park walled in, full of deer; and in one part there is a grove of goodly pine trees.
The Bois de Vincennes contains a grand castle with impressive rooms suitable for a royal court, including a chapel. It serves as the main prison for high-ranking individuals. Surrounding it is a walled park filled with deer, and in one area, there is a beautiful grove of pine trees.
The next day, I went to see the Louvre with more attention, its several courts and pavilions. One of[Pg 49] the quadrangles, begun by Henry IV., and finished by his son and grandson, is a superb, but mixed structure. The cornices, moldings, and compartments, with the insertion of several colored marbles, have been of great expense.
The next day, I visited the Louvre with a keener eye, observing its various courtyards and wings. One of[Pg 49] the quadrangles, started by Henry IV and completed by his son and grandson, is an impressive but eclectic building. The cornices, moldings, and sections, along with the incorporation of several colored marbles, have cost a significant amount.
We went through the long gallery, paved with white and black marble, richly fretted and painted à fresco. The front looking to the river, though of rare work for the carving, yet wants of that magnificence which a plainer and truer design would have contributed to it.
We walked through the long hallway, lined with white and black marble, beautifully carved and frescoed. The side facing the river, despite its intricate carvings, lacks the grandeur that a simpler and more authentic design would have added to it.
In the Cour aux Tuileries is a princely fabric; the winding geometrical stone stairs, with the cupola, I take to be as bold and noble a piece of architecture as any in Europe of the kind. To this is a corps de logis, worthy of so great a prince. Under these buildings, through a garden in which is an ample fountain, was the king's printing house, and that famous letter so much esteemed. Here I bought divers of the classic authors, poets, and others.
In the Cour aux Tuileries is a grand structure; the winding stone staircase with the dome is as bold and impressive a piece of architecture as any in Europe. Attached to this is a corps de logis, fitting for such a great prince. Beneath these buildings, through a garden with a large fountain, was the king's printing house, known for that famous letter that was highly valued. Here I bought various classic authors, poets, and others.
We returned through another gallery, larger, but not so long, where hung the pictures of all the kings and queens and prime nobility of France.
We walked back through another gallery, which was bigger but not as long, where the portraits of all the kings, queens, and top nobility of France were displayed.
Descending hence, we were let into a lower very large room, called the Salle des Antiques, which is a vaulted Cimelia, destined for statues only, among which stands that so celebrated Diana of the Ephesians, said to be the same which uttered oracles in that renowned Temple. Besides these colossean figures of marble, I must not forget the huge globe suspended by chains. The pavings, inlayings, and incrustations of this Hall, are very rich.
Descending from there, we were taken into a large lower room called the Salle des Antiques, which is a vaulted gallery meant exclusively for statues, including the famous Diana of the Ephesians, said to be the same one that delivered oracles in that legendary temple. In addition to these colossal marble figures, I can't overlook the massive globe hanging from chains. The flooring, inlays, and decorations in this hall are quite elaborate.
In another more private garden toward the Queen's apartment is a walk, or cloister, under arches, whose terrace is paved with stones of a great breadth; it looks toward the river, and has a pleasant aviary, fountain, stately cypresses, etc. On the river are seen a prodigious number of barges and boats of great length, full of hay, corn, wood, wine, and other commodities, which this vast city daily consumes. Under the long gallery we have described, dwell goldsmiths, painters, statuaries, and architects, who being the most famous for their art in Christendom have stipends allowed them by the King. Into that of Monsieur Saracin we entered, who was then[Pg 50] molding for an image of a Madonna to be cast in gold of a great size to be sent by the Queen Regent to Loretto, as an offering for the birth of the Dauphin, now the young King.
In another more private garden near the Queen's apartment, there's a walkway, or cloister, beneath arches, with a terrace paved with large stones; it overlooks the river and features a charming aviary, fountain, and impressive cypress trees, among other things. On the river, you can see a huge number of barges and boats of considerable length, loaded with hay, corn, wood, wine, and other goods that this vast city uses daily. Under the long gallery we mentioned, goldsmiths, painters, sculptors, and architects live and work, all famous for their craft throughout Christendom, supported by stipends from the King. We visited Monsieur Saracin, who was then molding an image of a Madonna to be cast in large gold to be sent by the Queen Regent to Loretto as an offering for the birth of the Dauphin, now the young King.
I finished this day with a walk in the great garden of the Tuileries, rarely contrived for privacy, shade, or company, by groves, plantations of tall trees, especially that in the middle, being of elms, the other of mulberries; and that labyrinth of cypresses; not omitting the noble hedges of pomegranates, fountains, fish-ponds, and an aviary; but, above all, the artificial echo, redoubling the words so distinctly; and, as it is never without some fair nymph singing to its grateful returns; standing at one of the focuses, which is under a tree or little cabinet of hedges, the voice seems to descend from the clouds; at another, as if it was underground. This being at the bottom of the garden, we were let into another, which being kept with all imaginary accurateness as to the orangery, precious shrubs, and rare fruits, seemed a Paradise. From a terrace in this place we saw so many coaches, as one would hardly think could be maintained in the whole city, going, late as it was in the year, toward the course, which is a place adjoining, of near an English mile long, planted with four rows of trees, making a large circle in the middle. This course is walled about, near breast high, with squared freestone, and has a stately arch at the entrance, with sculpture and statues about it, built by Mary di Medicis. Here it is that the gallants and ladies of the Court take the air and divert themselves, as with us in Hyde Park, the circle being capable of containing a hundred coaches to turn commodiously, and the larger of the plantations for five or six coaches abreast.
I ended my day with a walk in the beautiful Tuileries garden, which isn’t exactly designed for privacy, shade, or company. It's filled with groves and tall tree plantations, especially those in the center, which are elms, while others are mulberries. There’s also a maze of cypress trees, not to mention the impressive hedges of pomegranates, fountains, fish ponds, and an aviary. But what stands out most is the artificial echo that clearly repeats words, often accompanied by a lovely nymph singing back to it from one of the spots under a tree or a small hedge alcove. The voice seems to come from the clouds at one point and from underground at another. At the bottom of the garden, we entered another area that was meticulously maintained with an orangery, valuable shrubs, and rare fruits, resembling a paradise. From a terrace there, we saw so many coaches that one would hardly believe the entire city could have that many, going toward the course, which is a nearby area about an English mile long, lined with four rows of trees forming a large circle in the middle. This course is surrounded by a breast-high wall made of squared stone and has a grand arch at the entrance, adorned with sculptures and statues, built by Mary de' Medici. It’s here that the gallants and ladies of the Court come to enjoy the fresh air and entertain themselves, similar to Hyde Park for us, as the circle can easily accommodate a hundred coaches turning around and the wider areas can fit five or six coaches side by side.
Returning through the Tuileries, we saw a building in which are kept wild beasts for the King's pleasure, a bear, a wolf, a wild boar, a leopard, etc.
Returning through the Tuileries, we saw a building that houses wild animals for the King's enjoyment—a bear, a wolf, a wild boar, a leopard, and so on.
27th February, 1644. Accompanied with some English gentlemen, we took horse to see St. Germains-en-Laye, a stately country house of the King, some five leagues from Paris. By the way, we alighted at St. Cloud, where, on an eminence near the river, the Archbishop of Paris has a garden, for the house is not very considerable, rarely watered and furnished with fountains, statues,[Pg 51] and groves; the walks are very fair; the fountain of Laocoon is in a large square pool, throwing the water near forty feet high, and having about it a multitude of statues and basins, and is a surprising object. But nothing is more esteemed than the cascade falling from the great steps into the lowest and longest walk from the Mount Parnassus, which consists of a grotto, or shell-house, on the summit of the hill, wherein are divers waterworks and contrivances to wet the spectators; this is covered with a fair cupola, the walls painted with the Muses, and statues placed thick about it, whereof some are antique and good. In the upper walks are two perspectives, seeming to enlarge the alleys, and in this garden are many other ingenious contrivances. The palace, as I said, is not extraordinary. The outer walls only painted à fresco. In the court is a Volary, and the statues of Charles IX., Henry III., IV., and Louis XIII., on horseback, mezzo-relievo'd in plaster. In the garden is a small chapel; and under shelter is the figure of Cleopatra, taken from the Belvidere original, with others. From the terrace above is a tempest well painted; and thence an excellent prospect toward Paris, the meadows, and river.
27th February, 1644. Along with some English gentlemen, we took horseback to visit St. Germains-en-Laye, an impressive country house of the King, about five leagues from Paris. On the way, we stopped at St. Cloud, where the Archbishop of Paris has a garden on a hill near the river. The house isn’t very remarkable, rarely watered and lacking in fountains, statues, [Pg 51] and groves; the pathways are quite lovely. The fountain of Laocoon is in a large square pool, shooting water nearly forty feet high, surrounded by many statues and basins, making it a striking sight. But what is most valued is the cascade that flows from the grand steps into the longest and lowest pathway from Mount Parnassus, which features a grotto or shell-house at the top of the hill, equipped with various waterworks designed to wet the spectators; this is topped with a beautiful dome, the walls painted with the Muses, and thickly populated with statues, some of which are antique and valuable. In the upper pathways, there are two perspectives that appear to expand the alleys, and the garden contains many other clever features. The palace, as I mentioned, is not extraordinary. The outer walls are simply painted à fresco. In the courtyard is a Volary, and the statues of Charles IX, Henry III, IV, and Louis XIII on horseback, in low relief of plaster. There is a small chapel in the garden; and sheltered under cover is a statue of Cleopatra, modeled after the original from the Belvidere, along with others. From the terrace above, there's a beautifully painted tempest; and from there, you get an excellent view of Paris, the meadows, and the river.
At an inn in this village is a host who treats all the great persons in princely lodgings for furniture and plate, but they pay well for it, as I have done. Indeed, the entertainment is very splendid, and not unreasonable, considering the excellent manner of dressing their meat, and of the service. Here are many debauches and excessive revelings, as being out of all noise and observance.
At an inn in this village, there's a host who provides royal accommodations and furnishings for all the important guests, but they pay handsomely for it, just like I have. Honestly, the service is exceptional, and the prices are fair, especially given how well they prepare the food and serve it. There are plenty of wild parties and excessive celebrations here, as there's no noise or rules to follow.
From hence, about a league further, we went to see Cardinal Richelieu's villa, at Ruell. The house is small, but fairly built, in form of a castle, moated round. The offices are toward the road, and over against it are large vineyards, walled in. But, though the house is not of the greatest, the gardens about it are so magnificent, that I doubt whether Italy has any exceeding it for all rarities of pleasure. The garden nearest the pavilion is a parterre, having in the midst divers noble brass statues, perpetually spouting water into an ample basin, with other figures of the same metal; but what is most admirable is the vast inclosure, and variety of ground,[Pg 52] in the large garden, containing vineyards, cornfields, meadows, groves (whereof one is of perennial greens), and walks of vast length, so accurately kept and cultivated, that nothing can be more agreeable. On one of these walks, within a square of tall trees, is a basilisk of copper, which, managed by the fountaineer, casts water near sixty feet high, and will of itself move round so swiftly, that one can hardly escape wetting. This leads to the Citronière, which is a noble conserve of all those rarities; and at the end of it is the Arch of Constantine, painted on a wall in oil, as large as the real one at Rome, so well done, that even a man skilled in painting, may mistake it for stone and sculpture. The sky and hills, which seem to be between the arches, are so natural, that swallows and other birds, thinking to fly through, have dashed themselves against the wall. I was infinitely taken with this agreeable cheat. At the further part of this walk is that plentiful, though artificial cascade, which rolls down a very steep declivity, and over the marble steps and basins, with an astonishing noise and fury; each basin hath a jetto in it, flowing like sheets of transparent glass, especially that which rises over the great shell of lead, from whence it glides silently down a channel through the middle of a spacious gravel walk, terminating in a grotto. Here are also fountains that cast water to a great height, and large ponds, two of which have islands for harbor of fowls, of which there is store. One of these islands has a receptacle for them built of vast pieces of rock, near fifty feet high, grown over with moss, ivy, etc., shaded at a competent distance with tall trees: in this rupellary nidary do the fowl lay eggs, and breed. We then saw a large and very rare grotto of shell-work, in the shape of Satyrs, and other wild fancies: in the middle stands a marble table, on which a fountain plays in divers forms of glasses, cups, crosses, fans, crowns, etc. Then the fountaineer represented a shower of rain from the top, met by small jets from below. At going out, two extravagant musketeers shot us with a stream of water from their musket barrels. Before this grotto is a long pool into which ran divers spouts of water from leaden escalop basins. ST. GERMAINSThe viewing this paradise made us late at St. Germains.[Pg 53]
From there, about a mile further, we went to visit Cardinal Richelieu's villa in Ruell. The house is small but well-built, resembling a castle and surrounded by a moat. The service buildings are along the road, with large walled-in vineyards across from it. While the house isn't the biggest, the surrounding gardens are so magnificent that I doubt Italy has anything that surpasses them in terms of beauty and pleasure. The garden closest to the pavilion is a parterre, featuring various impressive brass statues that continuously spout water into a large basin, along with other figures made of the same metal. What is most remarkable is the vast enclosure and diverse landscape in the larger garden, which includes vineyards, fields of grain, meadows, groves (one of which is always green), and long paths that are so well-maintained and cultivated that they are incredibly pleasing. On one of these paths, within a square of tall trees, there's a copper basilisk that, operated by a fountain worker, shoots water nearly sixty feet into the air and spins around so quickly that you can hardly avoid getting splashed. This leads to the Citronière, which is a wonderful collection of all these rarities; at the end of it stands the Arch of Constantine, painted on a wall with oil, as large as the real one in Rome, so expertly done that even someone skilled in painting might mistake it for stone and sculpture. The sky and hills, which appear to be between the arches, are so lifelike that swallows and other birds, thinking they could fly through, have flown straight into the wall. I was truly fascinated by this delightful illusion. At the far end of this path is a plentiful yet artificial waterfall that cascades down a steep slope and thunders over marble steps and basins; each basin has a spout that pours water like sheets of transparent glass, especially the one that rises above a large lead shell, from which it glides silently down a channel through the middle of a spacious gravel path, leading into a grotto. There are also fountains that shoot water high into the air and large ponds, two of which have islands that provide shelter for birds, of which there are many. One of these islands has a large structure made of huge rocks, nearly fifty feet high, covered in moss and ivy, and sheltered by tall trees nearby: it’s here that the birds lay eggs and raise their young. We then saw a large and very unusual grotto made of shells, shaped like satyrs and other wild designs: in the center stands a marble table, on which a fountain plays in various forms resembling glasses, cups, crosses, fans, crowns, etc. Then, the fountain worker created a rain shower from the top, mixed with small jets from below. As we were leaving, two extravagant musketeers showered us with a stream of water from their musket barrels. Before this grotto is a long pool into which various water spouts flow from lead scalloped basins. The time spent in this paradise made us late getting back to St. Germains.
The first building of this palace is of Charles V., called the Sage; but Francis I. (that true virtuoso) made it complete; speaking as to the style of magnificence then in fashion, which was with too great a mixture of the Gothic, as may be seen in what there is remaining of his in the old Castle, an irregular piece as built on the old foundation, and having a moat about it. It has yet some spacious and handsome rooms of state, and a chapel neatly painted. The new Castle is at some distance, divided from this by a court, of a lower, but more modern design, built by Henry IV. To this belong six terraces, built of brick and stone, descending in cascades toward the river, cut out of the natural hill, having under them goodly vaulted galleries; of these, four have subterranean grots and rocks, where are represented several objects in the manner of scenes and other motions, by force of water, shown by the light of torches only; among these, is Orpheus with his music; and the animals, which dance after his harp; in the second, is the King and Dolphin;17 in the third, is Neptune sounding his trumpet, his chariot drawn by sea horses; in the fourth, the story of Perseus and Andromeda; mills; hermitages; men fishing; birds chirping; and many other devices. There is also a dry grot to refresh in; all having a fine prospect toward the river, and the goodly country about it, especially the forest. At the bottom, is a parterre; the upper terrace nearly half a mile in length, with double declivities, arched and balustered with stone, of vast and royal cost.
The first building of this palace was constructed by Charles V., known as the Sage, but Francis I. (the true virtuoso) completed it. He embraced the style of magnificence popular at the time, which had an excessive mix of Gothic elements, evident in what remains of his work in the old Castle. The old Castle is an irregular structure built on the original foundation and surrounded by a moat. It still features spacious and elegant state rooms and a beautifully painted chapel. The new Castle is located a short distance away, separated by a courtyard. It has a simpler but more modern design, built by Henry IV. This area includes six terraces made of brick and stone that cascade down towards the river, carved out of the natural hillside, with impressive vaulted galleries underneath. Four of these terraces contain underground grottos and rocks, showcasing various scenes and moving objects powered by water, illuminated only by torchlight. Among these scenes is Orpheus with his music, surrounded by animals dancing to his harp; the second features the King and Dolphin; the third shows Neptune sounding his trumpet, his chariot drawn by sea horses; and the fourth depicts the story of Perseus and Andromeda, along with scenes of mills, hermitages, fishermen, chirping birds, and many other displays. There is also a dry grotto for relaxation, all of which offer a beautiful view of the river and the surrounding countryside, especially the forest. At the bottom lies a parterre, while the upper terrace extends nearly half a mile in length, with double slopes arched and balustraded in stone, at an enormous and royal cost.
In the pavilion of the new Castle are many fair rooms, well painted, and leading into a very noble garden and park, where is a pall-mall, in the midst of which, on one of the sides, is a chapel, with stone cupola, though small, yet of a handsome order of architecture. Out of the park you go into the forest, which being very large, is stored with deer, wild boars, wolves, and other wild game. The Tennis Court, and Cavallerizzo, for the menaged horses, are also observable.
In the pavilion of the new Castle, there are many beautiful rooms, well-painted, leading into a grand garden and park, which features a pall-mall. In the middle of it, on one side, there's a small chapel with a stone dome, designed in an attractive architectural style. From the park, you can access the large forest, which is home to deer, wild boars, wolves, and other wildlife. You can also see the Tennis Court and the stables for the trained horses.
We returned to Paris by Madrid, another villa of the King's, built by Francis I., and called by that name to absolve him of his oath that he would not go from Madrid (in which he was prisoner), in Spain, but from whence he made his escape. This house is also built in a park,[Pg 54] and walled in. We next called in at the Bonnes-hommes, well situated, with a fair chapel and library.
We came back to Paris via Madrid, another villa owned by the King, built by Francis I, and named after him to excuse his promise that he wouldn’t leave Madrid (where he was imprisoned) in Spain, but from where he managed to escape. This house is also located in a walled park,[Pg 54] and then we stopped at the Bonnes-hommes, which is nicely positioned and has a lovely chapel and library.
1st March, 1644. I went to see the Count de Liancourt's Palace in the Rue de Seine, which is well built. Toward his study and bedchamber joins a little garden, which, though very narrow, by the addition of a well-painted perspective, is to appearance greatly enlarged; to this there is another part, supported by arches in which runs a stream of water, rising in the aviary, out of a statue, and seeming to flow for some miles, by being artificially continued in the painting, when it sinks down at the wall. It is a very agreeable deceit. At the end of this garden is a little theater, made to change with divers pretty scenes, and the stage so ordered, with figures of men and women painted on light boards, and cut out, and, by a person who stands underneath, made to act as if they were speaking, by guiding them, and reciting words in different tones, as the parts require. We were led into a round cabinet, where was a neat invention for reflecting lights, by lining divers sconces with thin shining plates of gilded copper.
1st March, 1644. I went to visit the Count de Liancourt's Palace on Rue de Seine, which is well constructed. Attached to his study and bedroom is a small garden that, despite being very narrow, appears much larger thanks to a well-painted perspective. There's another section supported by arches where a stream of water runs, starting in the aviary from a statue and seemingly flowing for miles, artfully continued in the painting until it disappears at the wall. It's a very pleasant illusion. At the end of this garden, there’s a small theater designed to change with various pretty scenes, and the stage is arranged with figures of men and women painted on thin boards that are cut out. A person standing underneath animates them, making it look like they’re speaking by guiding them and reciting lines in different tones as required. We were taken into a round room that featured a clever invention for reflecting lights, using different sconces lined with thin shiny plates of gilded copper.
In one of the rooms of state was an excellent painting of Poussin, being a Satyr kneeling; over the chimney, the Coronation of the Virgin, by Paulo Veronese; another Madonna over the door, and that of Joseph, by Cigali; in the Hall, a Cavaliero di Malta, attended by his page, said to be of Michael Angelo; the Rape of Proserpine, with a very large landscape of Correggio. In the next room are some paintings of Primaticcio, especially the Helena, the naked Lady brought before Alexander, well painted, and a Ceres. In the bedchamber a picture of the Cardinal de Liancourt, of Raphael, rarely colored. In the cabinet are divers pieces of Bassano, two of Polemburg, four of Paulo Brill, the skies a little too blue. A Madonna of Nicholao, excellently painted on a stone; a Judith of Mantegna; three women of Jeronimo; one of Stenwick; a Madonna after Titian, and a Magdalen of the same hand, as the Count esteems it: two small pieces of Paulo Veronese, being the Martyrdoms of St. Justina and St. Catherine; a Madonna of Lucas Van Leyden, sent him from our King; six more of old Bassano; two excellent drawings of Albert; a Magdalen of Leonardo da Vinci; four of Paulo; a very rare Madonna of Titian, given[Pg 55] him also by our King; the Ecce Homo, shut up in a frame of velvet, for the life and accurate finishing exceeding all description. Some curious agates, and a chaplet of admirable invention, the intaglios being all on fruit stones. The Count was so exceeding civil, that he would needs make his lady go out of her dressing room, that he might show us the curiosities and pictures in it.
In one of the state rooms, there was a beautiful painting by Poussin of a kneeling Satyr; above the fireplace hung the Coronation of the Virgin by Paulo Veronese. Another Madonna was displayed over the door, along with Joseph, by Cigali. In the Hall, there was a Knight of Malta accompanied by his page, believed to be by Michelangelo, along with the Rape of Proserpine and a very large landscape by Correggio. In the next room, there were several paintings by Primaticcio, particularly the Helena, the naked woman brought before Alexander, which was well done, and a Ceres. In the bedroom, there was a striking picture of Cardinal de Liancourt by Raphael, noted for its rare coloring. In the cabinet were various works by Bassano, two by Polemburg, and four by Paulo Brill, the skies a bit too blue. There was a wonderfully painted Madonna by Nicholao on stone; a Judith by Mantegna; three pieces by Jeronimo; one by Stenwick; a Madonna inspired by Titian, and a Magdalen of the same artist, as the Count mentioned; two small works by Paulo Veronese, depicting the Martyrdoms of St. Justina and St. Catherine; a Madonna by Lucas Van Leyden, sent to him by our King; six additional pieces by the older Bassano; two outstanding drawings by Albert; a Magdalen by Leonardo da Vinci; four more by Paulo; and a very rare Madonna by Titian, also given to him by our King. The Ecce Homo, placed inside a velvet frame, was so lifelike and finely detailed that it was beyond description. There were some unique agates and a beautifully crafted rosary, with all the intaglios made on fruit stones. The Count was so incredibly polite that he insisted his lady leave her dressing room so he could show us the curiosities and paintings inside.
We went thence to visit one Monsieur Perishot, one of the greatest virtuosos in France, for his collection of pictures, agates, medals, and flowers, especially tulips and anemonies. The chiefest of his paintings was a Sebastian, of Titian.
We then went to visit a man named Monsieur Perishot, one of the greatest experts in France, known for his collection of paintings, agates, medals, and flowers, particularly tulips and anemones. The highlight of his paintings was a Sebastian by Titian.
From him we went to Monsieur Frene's, who showed us many rare drawings, a Rape of Helen in black chalk; many excellent things of Sneiders, all naked; some of Julio and Michael Angelo; a Madonna of Passignano; some things of Parmensis, and other masters.
From him, we went to Monsieur Frene's, who showed us many rare drawings, including a black chalk drawing of the Rape of Helen; many impressive works by Sneiders, all featuring nudes; some pieces by Julio and Michelangelo; a Madonna by Passignano; and a few works by Parmensis and other masters.
The next morning, being recommended to one Monsieur de Hausse, President of the Parliament, and once Ambassador at Venice for the French King, we were very civilly received, and showed his library. Among his paintings were a rare Venus and Adonis of Veronese, a St. Anthony, after the first manner of Correggio, and a rare Madonna of Palma.
The next morning, we were introduced to Monsieur de Hausse, the President of the Parliament and a former Ambassador to Venice for the French King. He welcomed us warmly and showed us his library. Among his paintings were a rare Venus and Adonis by Veronese, a St. Anthony in the early style of Correggio, and a unique Madonna by Palma.
Sunday, the 6th of March, I went to Charenton, two leagues from Paris, to hear and see the manner of the French Protestant Church service. The place of meeting they call the Temple, a very fair and spacious room, built of freestone, very decently adorned with paintings of the Tables of the Law, the Lord's Prayer, and Creed. The pulpit stands at the upper end in the middle, having an inclosure of seats about it, where the Elders and persons of greatest quality and strangers, sit; the rest of the congregation on forms and low stools, but none in pews, as in our churches, to their great disgrace, as nothing so orderly, as here the stools and other cumber are removed when the assembly rises. I was greatly pleased with their harmonious singing the Psalms, which they all learn perfectly well, their children being as duly taught these, as their catechism.
On Sunday, March 6th, I went to Charenton, about two leagues from Paris, to observe the French Protestant Church service. They refer to the meeting place as the Temple, which is a beautiful and spacious room made of freestone, nicely decorated with paintings of the Tables of the Law, the Lord's Prayer, and the Creed. The pulpit is located at the front center, surrounded by seats where the Elders, distinguished guests, and visitors sit; the rest of the congregation sits on benches and low stools, but there are no pews like in our churches, which is quite a disadvantage for them, as everything is kept orderly with stools and other items removed when the assembly stands. I was very impressed with their harmonious singing of the Psalms, which they all know perfectly well, with their children being taught these just as thoroughly as their catechism.
In our passage, we went by that famous bridge over the Marne, where that renowned echo returns the voice of a good singer nine or ten times.[Pg 56]
In our journey, we crossed that famous bridge over the Marne, where the well-known echo repeats the voice of a good singer nine or ten times.[Pg 56]
7th March, 1644. I set forward with some company toward Fontainebleau, a sumptuous Palace of the King's, like ours at Hampton Court, about fourteen leagues from the city. By the way, we pass through a forest so prodigiously encompassed with hideous rocks of whitish hard stone, heaped one on another in mountainous heights, that I think the like is nowhere to be found more horrid and solitary. It abounds with stags, wolves, boars, and not long after a lynx, or ounce, was killed among them, which had devoured some passengers. On the summit of one of these gloomy precipices, intermingled with trees and shrubs, the stones hanging over, and menacing ruin, is built an hermitage. In these solitudes, rogues frequently lurk and do mischief (and for whom we were all well appointed with our carabines); but we arrived safe in the evening at the village, where we lay at the Horne, going early next morning to the Palace.
7th March, 1644. I set off with some companions toward Fontainebleau, a grand Palace of the King, similar to ours at Hampton Court, about fourteen leagues from the city. On the way, we passed through a forest surrounded by terrifying rocks made of hard, white stone, piled up like mountains, creating a scene that I think is unmatched in its horror and isolation. The area is teeming with stags, wolves, boars, and not long after we saw a lynx, which had preyed on some travelers. At the top of one of these dark cliffs, mixed with trees and shrubs, there’s a hermitage built among the precarious stones that seem ready to fall. In these remote areas, bandits often hide and cause trouble (and we were all well-prepared with our firearms); but we arrived safely in the evening at the village, where we stayed at the Horne, planning to visit the Palace first thing the next morning.
This House is nothing so stately and uniform as Hampton Court, but Francis I. began much to beautify it; most of all Henry IV. (and not a little) the late King. It abounds with fair halls, chambers, and galleries; in the longest, which is 360 feet long, and 18 broad, are painted the Victories of that great Prince, Henry IV. That of Francis I., called the grand Gallery, has all the King's palaces painted in it; above these, in sixty pieces of excellent work in fresco, is the History of Ulysses, from Homer, by Primaticcio, in the time of Henry III., esteemed the most renowned in Europe for the design. The Cabinet is full of excellent pictures, especially a Woman, of Raphael. In the Hall of the Guards is a piece of tapestry painted on the wall, very naturally, representing the victories of Charles VII. over our countrymen. In the Salle des Festins is a rare Chimney-piece, and Henry IV. on horseback, of white marble, esteemed worth 18,000 crowns; Clementia and Pax, nobly done. On columns of jasper, two lions of brass. The new stairs, and a half circular court, are of modern and good architecture, as is a chapel built by Louis XIII., all of jasper, with several incrustations of marble through the inside.
This house isn’t as grand or uniform as Hampton Court, but Francis I started making it more beautiful; Henry IV did the most to enhance it (and the late King contributed quite a bit too). It has beautiful halls, rooms, and galleries; the longest gallery is 360 feet long and 18 feet wide, and it features paintings of the victories of the great Prince, Henry IV. The gallery of Francis I, known as the grand Gallery, showcases paintings of all the King's palaces; above these, there are sixty excellent frescoes depicting the History of Ulysses from Homer, created by Primaticcio during the reign of Henry III, and it’s considered the most renowned in Europe for its design. The Cabinet is filled with outstanding paintings, especially a work by Raphael featuring a woman. In the Hall of the Guards, there’s a tapestry painted on the wall that very realistically represents the victories of Charles VII over our countrymen. The Salle des Festins includes a remarkable chimney piece, and a statue of Henry IV on horseback made of white marble, valued at 18,000 crowns; Clementia and Pax are depicted beautifully. Two brass lions stand on columns of jasper. The new staircase and half-circular courtyard feature modern and attractive architecture, as does the chapel built by Louis XIII, which is entirely made of jasper and has several marble inlays throughout the interior.
Having seen the rooms, we went to the volary, which has a cupola in the middle of it, great trees and bushes, it being full of birds who drank at two fountains. There is also a fair tennis court, and noble stables; but the[Pg 57] beauty of all are the gardens. In the Court of the Fountains stand divers antiquities and statues, especially a Mercury. In the Queen's Garden is a Diana ejecting a fountain, with numerous other brass statues.
After checking out the rooms, we headed to the aviary, which has a dome in the middle, big trees and bushes, and is filled with birds that drink from two fountains. There’s also a nice tennis court and impressive stables; but the[Pg 57] real highlight is the gardens. In the Court of the Fountains, there are various antiques and statues, especially one of Mercury. In the Queen's Garden, there's a statue of Diana shooting out a fountain, along with many other brass statues.
The great Garden, 180 toises long and 154 wide, has in the center a fountain of Tyber of a Colossean figure of brass, with the Wolf over Romulus and Remus. At each corner of the garden rises a fountain. In the garden of the piscina, is a Hercules of white marble; next, is that of the pines, and without that a canal of an English mile in length, at the end of which rise three jettos in the form of a fleur-de-lis, of a great height; on the margin are excellent walks planted with trees. The carps come familiarly to hand (to be fed). Hence they brought us to a spring, which they say being first discovered by a dog, gave occasion of beautifying this place, both with the palace and gardens. The white and terrific rocks at some distance in the forest, yield one of the most august and stupendous prospects imaginable. The park about this place is very large, and the town full of noblemen's houses.
The great garden, 180 toises long and 154 wide, features a central fountain of Tyber with a colossal brass figure of the Wolf over Romulus and Remus. At each corner of the garden, there's a fountain. In the garden of the piscina, there's a Hercules made of white marble; nearby is the pine garden, and outside of that is a canal that's an English mile long, at the end of which stand three jets shaped like a fleur-de-lis, towering high; along the edges are beautiful walking paths lined with trees. The carp come up to be fed. Then they took us to a spring, which they say was first discovered by a dog, leading to the beautification of this place with both the palace and gardens. The white, dramatic rocks a little way into the forest present one of the most impressive and awe-inspiring views imaginable. The park around this area is very large, and the town is filled with noblemen’s houses.
Next morning, we were invited by a painter, who was keeper of the pictures and rarities, to see his own collection. We were led through a gallery of old Rosso's work, at the end of which, in another cabinet, were three Madonnas of Raphael, and two of Andrea del Sarto. In the Academy where the painter himself wrought, was a St. Michael of Raphael, very rare; St. John Baptist of Leonardo, and a Woman's head; a Queen of Sicily, and St. Margaret of Raphael; two more Madonnas, whereof one very large, by the same hand; some more of del Sarto; a St. Jerome, of Perino del Vaga; the Rape of Proserpine, very good; and a great number of drawings.
The next morning, we were invited by a painter, who was in charge of the collection of paintings and rare items, to see his personal collection. We walked through a gallery filled with old works by Rosso, and at the end, in another display case, we found three Madonnas by Raphael and two by Andrea del Sarto. At the Academy where the painter worked, there was a very rare St. Michael by Raphael, a St. John the Baptist by Leonardo, and a woman's head; a Queen of Sicily, and St. Margaret by Raphael; two more Madonnas, one of which was very large, by the same artist; some additional works by del Sarto; a St. Jerome by Perino del Vaga; and a very good Rape of Proserpine, along with a large number of drawings.
Returning part of our way to Paris, that day, we visited a house called Maison Rouge, having an excellent prospect, grot, and fountains, one whereof rises fifty feet, and resembles the noise of a tempest, battle of guns, etc., at its issue.
Returning part of our way to Paris that day, we visited a house called Maison Rouge, which had an amazing view, a grotto, and fountains, one of which rises fifty feet and sounds like a storm, the clash of cannons, and more when it flows.
Thence to Essone, a house of Monsieur Essling, who is a great virtuoso; there are many good paintings in it; but nothing so observable as his gardens, fountains, fish-pools, especially that in a triangular form, the water cast out by a multitude of heads about it; there is a noble[Pg 58] cascade and pretty baths, with all accommodations. Under a marble table is a fountain of serpents twisting about a globe.
Then to Essone, a house belonging to Monsieur Essling, who is a great art enthusiast; there are many impressive paintings in it; but nothing as remarkable as his gardens, fountains, and fish ponds, especially the triangular one, with water flowing from a multitude of spouts around it; there is a grand[Pg 58] waterfall and nice baths, with all the amenities. Under a marble table is a fountain of serpents twisting around a globe.
We alighted next at Corbeil, a town famous for the siege by Henry IV. Here we slept, and returned next morning to Paris.
We got off next at Corbeil, a town known for the siege by Henry IV. We stayed here overnight and went back to Paris the next morning.
18th March, 1644. I went with Sir J. Cotton, a Cambridgeshire Knight, a journey into Normandy. The first day, we passed by Gaillon, the Archbishop of Rouen's Palace. The gardens are highly commended, but we did not go in, intending to reach Pontoise by dinner. This town is built in a very gallant place, has a noble bridge over the Oise, and is well refreshed with fountains.
18th March, 1644. I went on a trip to Normandy with Sir J. Cotton, a knight from Cambridgeshire. On the first day, we passed by Gaillon, the Archbishop of Rouen's palace. The gardens there are highly praised, but we didn't go in because we wanted to get to Pontoise by dinner. This town is located in a very impressive spot, has a grand bridge over the Oise, and is well supplied with fountains.
This is the first town in Normandy, and the furthest that the vineyards extend to on this side of the country, which is fuller of plains, wood, and inclosures, with some towns toward the sea, very like England.
This is the first town in Normandy and the farthest the vineyards reach on this side of the country, which is filled with plains, woods, and enclosures, along with a few towns near the sea that are very similar to England.
We lay this night at a village, called Magny. The next day, descending a very steep hill, we dined at Fleury, after riding five leagues down St. Catherine, to Rouen, which affords a goodly prospect, to the ruins of that chapel and mountain. This country so abounds with wolves that a shepherd whom we met, told us one of his companions was strangled by one of them the day before, and that in the midst of his flock. The fields are mostly planted with pears and apples, and other cider fruits. It is plentifully furnished with quarries of stone and slate, and hath iron in abundance.
We spent the night in a village called Magny. The next day, after going down a very steep hill, we had lunch at Fleury, having traveled five leagues down St. Catherine to Rouen, which offers a beautiful view of the ruins of that chapel and mountain. This area is so full of wolves that a shepherd we met told us one of his buddies was killed by one just the day before, right in the middle of his flock. The fields are mostly filled with pear and apple trees, and other fruits used for cider. It is also plentiful in stone and slate quarries and has plenty of iron.
I lay at the White Cross, in Rouen, which is a very large city, on the Seine, having two smaller rivers besides, called the Aubette and Robec. There stand yet the ruins of a magnificent bridge of stone, now supplied by one of boats only, to which come up vessels of considerable burden. The other side of the water consists of meadows, and there have the Reformed a church.
I was at the White Cross in Rouen, a very large city on the Seine, which also has two smaller rivers called the Aubette and Robec. You can still see the ruins of a magnificent stone bridge, now replaced by a single boat, to which larger vessels come. On the other side of the river, there are meadows, and the Reformed have a church there.
The Cathedral Nôtre Dame was built, as they acknowledge, by the English; some English words graven in Gothic characters upon the front seem to confirm it. The towers and whole church are full of carving. It has three steeples, with a pyramid; in one of these, I saw the famous bell so much talked of, thirteen feet in height, thirty-two round, the diameter eleven, weighing 40,000 pounds.[Pg 59]
The Cathedral Notre Dame was built, as they say, by the English; some English words carved in Gothic letters on the front seem to confirm this. The towers and the entire church are full of carvings. It has three steeples topped with a pyramid; in one of these, I saw the famous bell everyone talks about, thirteen feet tall, thirty-two feet around, with an eleven-foot diameter, weighing 40,000 pounds.[Pg 59]
In the Chapel d'Amboise, built by a Cardinal of that name, lies his body, with several fair monuments. The choir has behind it a great dragon painted on the wall, which they say had done much harm to the inhabitants, till vanquished by St. Romain, their Archbishop; for which there is an annual procession. It was now near Easter, and many images were exposed with scenes and stories representing the Passion; made up of little puppets, to which there was great resort and devotion, with offerings. Before the church is a fair palace. St. Ouen is another goodly church and an abbey with fine gardens. Here the King hath lodgings, when he makes his progress through these parts. The structure, where the Court of Parliament is kept, is very magnificent, containing very fair halls and chambers, especially La Chambre Dorée. The town-house is also well built, and so are some gentlemen's houses; but most part of the rest are of timber, like our merchants' in London, in the wooden part of the city.
In the Chapel d'Amboise, built by a Cardinal of the same name, lies his body, along with several beautiful monuments. Behind the choir, there’s a large dragon painted on the wall, which is said to have caused much harm to the locals until it was defeated by St. Romain, their Archbishop, leading to an annual procession in its honor. It was almost Easter, and many images were displayed featuring scenes and stories from the Passion, made up of little puppets that attracted a lot of visitors and devotion, along with offerings. In front of the church stands an impressive palace. St. Ouen is another beautiful church, along with an abbey that has lovely gardens. Here, the King has accommodations when he travels through these areas. The building housing the Court of Parliament is very grand, with beautiful halls and chambers, especially La Chambre Dorée. The town hall is also well-constructed, as are some gentlemen's houses, but most of the rest are timber-framed, similar to the merchants' houses in the wooden part of London.
21st March, 1644. On Easter Monday, we dined at Totes, a solitary inn between Rouen and Dieppe, at which latter place we arrived. This town is situated between two mountains, not unpleasantly, and is washed on the north by our English seas.
21st March, 1644. On Easter Monday, we had dinner at Totes, a lonely inn between Rouen and Dieppe, where we arrived later. This town is located between two mountains, in a pretty nice spot, and is bordered to the north by our English seas.
The port is commodious; but the entrance difficult. It has one very ample and fair street, in which is a pretty church. The Fort Pollet consists of a strong earth-work, and commands the haven, as on the other side does the castle, which is also well fortified, with the citadel before it; nor is the town itself a little strong. It abounds with workmen, who make and sell curiosities of ivory and tortoise-shells; and indeed whatever the East Indies afford of cabinets, porcelain, natural and exotic rarities, are here to be had, with abundant choice.
The port is spacious, but the entrance is tricky. It has one wide and nice street, where there's a charming church. The Fort Pollet is a strong earthen structure that overlooks the harbor, just like the castle on the other side, which is also well fortified, with the citadel in front of it; the town itself is quite strong too. It’s filled with craftsmen who create and sell curiosities made from ivory and tortoise shells; in fact, you can find anything the East Indies offer in terms of cabinets, porcelain, and both natural and exotic rarities, all available in great variety.
23d March, 1644. We passed along the coast by a very rocky and rugged way, which forced us to alight many times before we came to Havre de Grace, where we lay that night.
23rd March, 1644. We traveled along the coast on a very rocky and rough route, which made us get off multiple times before we reached Havre de Grace, where we stayed that night.
The next morning, we saw the citadel, strong and regular, well stored with artillery and ammunition of all sorts: the works furnished with fair brass cannon, having a motto, Ratio ultima Regum. The allogements of the garrison are uniform; a spacious place for drawing up[Pg 60] the soldiers, a pretty chapel, and a fair house for the Governor. The Duke of Richelieu being now in the fort, we went to salute him; who received us very civilly, and commanded that we should be showed whatever we desired to see. The citadel was built by the late Cardinal de Richelieu, uncle of the present Duke, and may be esteemed one of the strongest in France. The haven is very capacious.
The next morning, we saw the citadel, strong and well-organized, stocked with all kinds of artillery and ammunition: the fortifications equipped with fine brass cannons that have the motto, Ratio ultima Regum. The accommodations for the garrison are uniform; there's a spacious area for assembling the soldiers, a nice chapel, and a decent house for the Governor. The Duke of Richelieu was in the fort at the time, and we went to greet him; he welcomed us warmly and instructed that we should be shown everything we wanted to see. The citadel was built by the late Cardinal de Richelieu, the uncle of the current Duke, and is considered one of the strongest in France. The harbor is very spacious.
When we had done here, we embarked ourselves and horses to pass to Honfleur, about four or five leagues distant, where the Seine falls into the sea. It is a poor fisher-town, remarkable for nothing so much as the odd, yet useful habits which the good women wear, of bears' and other skins, as of rugs at Dieppe, and all along these maritime coasts.
When we finished here, we got ourselves and our horses ready to head to Honfleur, which is about four or five leagues away, where the Seine meets the sea. It's a rundown fishing town, known mostly for the quirky but practical outfits the local women wear, made of bear and other animal skins, similar to the rugs used in Dieppe and along these coastal areas.
25th March, 1644. We arrived at Caen, a noble and beautiful town, situate on the river Orne, which passes quite through it, the two sides of the town joined only by a bridge of one entire arch. We lay at the Angel, where we were very well used, the place being abundantly furnished with provisions, at a cheap rate. The most considerable object is the great Abbey and Church, large and rich, built after the Gothic manner, having two spires and middle lantern at the west end, all of stone. The choir round and large, in the center whereof elevated on a square, handsome, but plain sepulcher, is this inscription:
25th March, 1644. We arrived in Caen, a magnificent and beautiful town on the river Orne, which flows right through it, with the two sides connected by a single arch bridge. We stayed at the Angel, where we were treated very well; the place was well-stocked with provisions at a low price. The most notable feature is the grand Abbey and Church, large and affluent, built in the Gothic style, featuring two spires and a central lantern at the west end, all made of stone. The choir is round and spacious, and in the center is an elevated, square, elegant but simple tomb with this inscription:
"Hoc sepulchrum invictissimi juxta et clementissimi conquestoris, Gulielmi, dum viverat Anglorum Regis, Normannorum Cenomannorumque Principis, hujus insignis Abbatiae piissimi Fundatoris: Cum anno 1562 vesano hæreticorum furore direptum fuisset, pio tandem nobilium ejusdem Abbatiae religiosorum gratitudinis sensu in tam beneficum largitorem, instauratum fuit, aº D'ni 1642. D'no Johanne de Bailhache Assætorii proto priore. D.D."
"This tomb belongs to the most invincible and compassionate conqueror, William, who was the King of the English and the Prince of the Normans and Cenomannians, the pious founder of this remarkable Abbey: Cum anno 1562, having been ravaged by the mad fury of heretics, was finally restored in gratitude for such a generous benefactor by the pious nobility of the same Abbey, in the year of our Lord 1642, by the Lord John de Bailhache, the first Prior of the Assétoire. D.D."
On the other side are these monkish rhymes:
On the other side are these monk-like rhymes:
Boldly conquered, courageously held,
Et Cenomanensis virtute coërcuit ensis,
He applied his laws to the empire. King Rex lies here, small in this urn of William,
Even a small house is enough for a great Lord.
For seven steps, it had turned you around and two. "Phoebus in the lap of a virgin, and here he died."
We went to the castle, which is strong and fair, and so is the town-house, built on the bridge which unites the two towns. Here are schools and an University for the Jurists.
We went to the castle, which is strong and beautiful, and the town hall, which is built on the bridge that connects the two towns. There are schools and a university for lawyers here.
The whole town is handsomely built of that excellent stone so well known by that name in England. I was led to a pretty garden, planted with hedges of alaternus, having at the entrance a screen at an exceeding height, accurately cut in topiary work, with well understood architecture, consisting of pillars, niches, friezes, and other ornaments, with great curiosity; some of the columns curiously wreathed, others spiral, all according to art.
The entire town is beautifully constructed from that high-quality stone famous in England. I was taken to a lovely garden, surrounded by alaternus hedges, featuring a tall screen at the entrance, skillfully shaped in topiary style. The architecture was on point, with pillars, niches, friezes, and various decorations, all crafted with great care; some of the columns were intricately twisted, while others were spiral, all designed with precision.
28th March, 1644. We went toward Paris, lying the first night at Evreux, a Bishop's seat, an ancient town, with a fair cathedral; so the next day we arrived at Paris.
28th March, 1644. We headed toward Paris, spending our first night in Evreux, which is a bishop's seat and an old town with a beautiful cathedral; so the next day we reached Paris.
1st April, 1644. I went to see more exactly the rooms of the fine Palace of Luxemburg, in the Fauxbourg St. Germains, built by Mary di Medicis, and I think one of the most noble, entire, and finished piles that is to be seen, taking it with the garden and all its accomplishments. The gallery is of the painting of Rubens, being the history of the Foundress's Life, rarely designed; at the end of it is the Duke of Orleans' library, well furnished with excellent books, all bound in maroquin and gilded, the valance of the shelves being of green velvet, fringed with gold. In the cabinet joining to it are only the smaller volumes, with six cabinets of medals, and an excellent collection of shells and agates, whereof some are prodigiously rich. This Duke being very learned in medals and plants, nothing of that kind escapes him. There are other spacious, noble, and princely furnished rooms, which look toward the gardens, which are nothing inferior to the rest.
1st April, 1644. I went to take a closer look at the rooms of the beautiful Palace of Luxemburg, in the Fauxbourg St. Germains, built by Mary di Medicis. I think it's one of the most impressive, complete, and beautifully finished buildings to be seen, especially when you consider the garden and all its features. The gallery features paintings by Rubens, depicting the life of the founder, designed beautifully. At the end of the gallery is the Duke of Orleans’ library, well stocked with excellent books, all bound in morocco leather and gilded, with the shelf valance made of green velvet trimmed with gold. In the adjoining cabinet are only the smaller volumes, along with six cabinets of medals, and an outstanding collection of shells and agates, some of which are extremely valuable. This Duke, being very knowledgeable about medals and plants, overlooks nothing in that regard. There are also other spacious, grand, and lavishly furnished rooms that overlook the gardens, which are just as impressive as the rest.
The court below is formed into a square by a corridor, having over the chief entrance a stately cupola, covered with stone: the rest is cloistered and arched on pilasters of rustic work. The terrace ascending before the front, paved with white and black marble, is balustered with white marble, exquisitely polished.
The court below is shaped like a square by a corridor, featuring a grand dome over the main entrance, made of stone. The rest of the area is enclosed and has arches on sturdy supports with a rustic design. The terrace leading up to the front, paved with white and black marble, is surrounded by a beautifully polished white marble balustrade.
Only the hall below is low, and the staircase somewhat of a heavy design, but the facia toward the parterre which is also arched and vaulted with stone, is of admirable beauty and full of sculpture.[Pg 62]
Only the hall below is short, and the staircase has a pretty heavy design, but the front facing the garden, which is also arched and vaulted with stone, is beautifully done and full of sculpture.[Pg 62]
The gardens are near an English mile in compass, inclosed with a stately wall, and in a good air. The parterre is indeed of box, but so rarely designed and accurately kept cut, that the embroidery makes a wonderful effect to the lodgings which front it. 'Tis divided into four squares and as many circular knots, having in the center a noble basin of marble near thirty feet in diameter (as I remember), in which a Triton of brass holds a dolphin, that casts a girandola of water near thirty feet high, playing perpetually, the water being conveyed from Arceuil by an aqueduct of stone, built after the old Roman magnificence. About this ample parterre, the spacious walks and all included, runs a border of freestone, adorned with pedestals for pots and statues, and part of it near the steps of the terrace, with a rail and baluster of pure white marble.
The gardens cover about an English mile, surrounded by an impressive wall, and have good air. The parterre is made of boxwood, but it’s so uniquely designed and meticulously trimmed that the intricate pattern really stands out against the lodgings facing it. It’s divided into four squares and several circular knots, with a stunning marble basin in the center that’s nearly thirty feet wide (as I recall), where a brass Triton holds a dolphin that shoots a fountain of water nearly thirty feet high, continuously flowing, with water brought from Arceuil through a stone aqueduct built in the grand style of ancient Rome. Surrounding this spacious parterre, there’s a broad path and everything included is edged with freestone, decorated with pedestals for pots and statues, and part of it near the terrace steps features a railing and balusters made of pure white marble.
The walks are exactly fair, long, and variously descending and so justly planted with limes, elms, and other trees, that nothing can be more delicious, especially that of the hornbeam hedge, which being high and stately, buts full on the fountain.
The paths are perfectly level, spacious, and unevenly sloped, and they're beautifully arranged with linden trees, elms, and other species, making it incredibly enjoyable, especially the hornbeam hedge, which is tall and impressive and directly faces the fountain.
Toward the further end, is an excavation intended for a vast fish-pool, but never finished, and near it is an inclosure for a garden of simples, well kept; and here the Duke keeps tortoises in great number, who use the pool of water on one side of the garden. Here is also a conservatory for snow. At the upper part, toward the palace, is a grove of tall elms cut into a star, every ray being a walk, whose center is a large fountain.
Toward the far end is a pit meant for a large fish pond, but it was never completed, and nearby is a neatly maintained garden for herbs. The Duke keeps a lot of tortoises here, which use the pool of water on one side of the garden. There is also a greenhouse for snow. At the upper part, near the palace, there's a grove of tall elms shaped like a star, with each ray forming a pathway, and at the center is a large fountain.
The rest of the ground is made into several inclosures (all hedge-work or rows of trees) of whole fields, meadows, bocages, some of them containing divers acres.
The rest of the land is divided into several enclosures (all hedges or rows of trees) consisting of entire fields, meadows, and groves, some of which cover various acres.
Next the street side, and more contiguous to the house, are knots in trail, or grass work, where likewise runs a fountain. Toward the grotto and stables, within a wall, is a garden of choice flowers, in which the duke spends many thousand pistoles. In sum, nothing is wanted to render this palace and gardens perfectly beautiful and magnificent; nor is it one of the least diversions to see the number of persons of quality, citizens and strangers, who frequent it, and to whom all access is freely permitted, so that you shall see some walks and retirements full of gallants and ladies; in others melancholy friars; in others,[Pg 63] studious scholars; in others, jolly citizens, some sitting or lying on the grass, others running and jumping; some playing at bowls and ball, others dancing and singing; and all this without the least disturbance, by reason of the largeness of the place.
Next to the street, and closer to the house, are patches of trails or grassy areas, where there's also a fountain. Towards the grotto and stables, behind a wall, lies a garden filled with exquisite flowers, where the duke spends countless pistoles. In short, nothing is lacking to make this palace and gardens perfectly beautiful and magnificent. It's also one of the greatest pleasures to see the many dignitaries, locals, and visitors who come here, all of whom are allowed free access. You'll find some paths and secluded spots filled with young men and women; in other areas, solemn monks; in others, focused scholars; and in still others, cheerful townsfolk, some sitting or lounging on the grass, while others run and jump around; some playing bowls and ball, others dancing and singing; and all of this occurs without any disruption, thanks to the spaciousness of the place.
What is most admirable, you see no gardeners, or men at work, and yet all is kept in such exquisite order, as if they did nothing else but work; it is so early in the morning, that all is dispatched and done without the least confusion.
What’s most impressive is that you don’t see any gardeners or workers, yet everything is kept in such perfect order, as if they do nothing but work. It's early in the morning, and everything is taken care of so smoothly, without any confusion.
I have been the larger in the description of this paradise, for the extraordinary delight I have taken in those sweet retirements. The Cabinet and Chapel nearer the garden-front have some choice pictures. All the houses near this are also very noble palaces, especially Petite Luxemburg. The ascent of the street is handsome from its breadth, situation, and buildings.
I have focused more on describing this paradise because of the incredible joy I’ve found in those lovely retreats. The Cabinet and Chapel close to the garden have some amazing artworks. All the nearby houses are also impressive palaces, especially Petite Luxemburg. The rise of the street is beautiful because of its width, location, and architecture.
I went next to view Paris from the top of St. Jacques' steeple, esteemed the highest in the town, from whence I had a full view of the whole city and suburbs, both which, as I judge, are not so large as London: though the dissimilitude of their several forms and situations, this being round, London long,—renders it difficult to determine; but there is no comparison between the buildings, palaces, and materials, this being entirely of stone and more sumptuous, though I esteem our piazzas to exceed theirs.
I went next to see Paris from the top of St. Jacques' steeple, which is considered the tallest in the city. From there, I had a full view of the entire city and its suburbs. In my opinion, they aren’t as large as London, although it's hard to compare because of their different shapes—this one being round and London being long. However, when it comes to buildings, palaces, and materials, there’s no comparison; Paris is made entirely of stone and is more luxurious, although I think our squares are better than theirs.
Hence I took a turn in St. Innocent's churchyard, where the story of the devouring quality of the ground (consuming bodies in twenty-four hours), the vast charnels of bones, tombs, pyramids, and sepulchers, took up much of my time, together with the hieroglyphical characters of Nicholas Flamel's philosophical work, who had founded this church, and divers other charitable establishments, as he testifies in his book.
So, I wandered through St. Innocent's churchyard, where the tale of the ground's ability to consume bodies in twenty-four hours, the huge piles of bones, tombs, pyramids, and graves, captured a lot of my attention, along with the mysterious symbols from Nicholas Flamel's philosophical writings, who founded this church and several other charitable institutions, as he states in his book.
Here divers clerks get their livelihood by inditing letters for poor maids and other ignorant people who come to them for advice, and to write for them into the country, both to their sweethearts, parents, and friends; every large gravestone serving for a table. Joining to this church is a common fountain, with good relievos upon it.
Here, various clerks make a living by writing letters for poor girls and other people who need help. They write to their sweethearts, parents, and friends back in the country; every large gravestone serves as a writing table. Next to this church is a public fountain adorned with nice relief sculptures.
The next day I was carried to see a French gentle[Pg 64]man's curious collection, which abounded in fair and rich jewels of all sorts of precious stones, most of them of great sizes and value; agates and onyxes, some of them admirably colored and antique; nor inferior were his landscapes from the best hands, most of which he had caused to be copied in miniature; one of which, rarely painted on stone, was broken by one of our company, by the mischance of setting it up: but such was the temper and civility of the gentleman, that it altered nothing of his free and noble humor.
The next day, I was taken to see a French gentleman's fascinating collection, which was filled with beautiful and valuable jewels of all kinds of precious stones, most of them large and worth a lot; there were agates and onyxes, some of which were wonderfully colored and antique; his paintings were also impressive, created by the best artists, most of which he had commissioned to be miniaturized; one of them, a rare painting on stone, was broken by someone in our group when it was accidentally set up: but the gentleman's good nature and politeness remained unchanged, showing his free and noble character.
The next morning, I was had by a friend to the garden of Monsieur Morine, who, from being an ordinary gardener, is become one of the most skillful and curious persons in France for his rare collection of shells, flowers, and insects.
The next morning, a friend took me to the garden of Monsieur Morine, who, once a regular gardener, has become one of the most skilled and fascinating people in France for his rare collection of shells, flowers, and insects.
His garden is of an exact oval figure, planted with cypress, cut flat and set as even as a wall: the tulips, anemones, ranunculuses, crocuses, etc., are held to be of the rarest, and draw all the admirers of that kind to his house during the season. He lived in a kind of hermitage at one side of his garden, where his collection of porcelain and coral, whereof one is carved into a large crucifix, is much esteemed. He has also books of prints, by Albert [Durer], Van Leyden, Callot, etc. His collection of all sorts of insects, especially of butterflies, is most curious; these he spreads and so medicates, that no corruption invading them, he keeps them in drawers, so placed as to represent a beautiful piece of tapestry.
His garden has a perfect oval shape, planted with cypress trees, trimmed flat and even like a wall. The tulips, anemones, ranunculuses, crocuses, and others are considered among the rarest and attract all the admirers of these flowers to his house during the season. He lives in a sort of hermitage on one side of his garden, where his collection of porcelain and coral—one piece carved into a large crucifix—is highly valued. He also has books of prints by Albert Dürer, Van Leyden, Callot, and others. His collection of various insects, especially butterflies, is quite remarkable; he preserves and treats them so that they don’t decay, keeping them in drawers arranged to resemble a beautiful piece of tapestry.
He showed me the remarks he had made on their propagation, which he promised to publish. Some of these, as also of his best flowers, he had caused to be painted in miniature by rare hands, and some in oil.
He showed me the comments he had made about their growth, which he promised to publish. Some of these, along with his best flowers, he had commissioned to be painted in miniature by skilled artists, and others in oil.
6th April, 1644. I sent my sister my own picture in water colors,18 which she requested of me, and went to see divers of the fairest palaces of the town, as that of Vendôme, very large and stately; Lougueville; Guise; Condé;[Pg 65] Chevereuse; Nevers, esteemed one of the best in Paris toward the river.
6th April, 1644. I sent my sister my own portrait in watercolors,18 which she asked me for, and went to visit several of the most beautiful palaces in town, like Vendôme, which is very large and impressive; Lougueville; Guise; Condé;[Pg 65] Chevereuse; Nevers, considered one of the best in Paris near the river.
I often went to the Palais Cardinal, bequeathed by Richelieu to the King, on condition that it should be called by his name; at this time, the King resided in it, because of the building of the Louvre. It is a very noble house, though somewhat low; the galleries, paintings of the most illustrious persons of both sexes, the Queen's baths, presence-chamber with its rich carved and gilded roof, theater, and large garden, in which is an ample fountain, grove, and mall, worthy of remark. Here I also frequently went to see them ride and exercise the great horse, especially at the Academy of Monsieur du Plessis, and de Veau, whose schools of that art are frequented by the nobility; and here also young gentlemen are taught to fence, dance, play on music, and something in fortification and the mathematics. The design is admirable, some keeping near a hundred brave horses, all managed to the great saddle.
I often visited the Palais Cardinal, which Richelieu left to the King on the condition that it would be named after him. At that time, the King lived there because the Louvre was being built. It's a very impressive place, though a bit low; it has galleries, paintings of the most notable people from both genders, the Queen's baths, a presence chamber with its ornate carved and gilded ceiling, a theater, and a large garden featuring a spacious fountain, grove, and walkway that's worth mentioning. I also frequently went there to watch them ride and train the great horses, especially at the Academy of Monsieur du Plessis and de Veau, which are popular among the nobility; here, young men are taught to fence, dance, play music, and learn a bit about fortification and mathematics. The setup is fantastic, with almost a hundred fine horses, all expertly managed for riding.
12th April, 1644. I took coach, to see a general muster of all the gens d'armes about the city, in the Bois de Boulogne, before their Majesties and all the Grandees. They were reputed to be near 20,000, besides the spectators, who much exceeded them in number. Here they performed all their motions; and, being drawn up, horse and foot, into several figures, represented a battle.
12th April, 1644. I took a coach to see a general gathering of all the gens d'armes around the city, in the Bois de Boulogne, before their Majesties and all the nobility. They were said to be around 20,000, not counting the spectators, who greatly outnumbered them. Here they performed all their maneuvers; and, arranged in formations of cavalry and infantry, they acted out a battle.
The summer now drawing near, I determined to spend the rest of it in some more remote town on the river Loire; and, on 19th of April, I took leave of Paris, and, by the way of the messenger, agreed for my passage to Orleans.
The summer was approaching, so I decided to spend the rest of it in a quieter town along the Loire River. On April 19th, I said goodbye to Paris and arranged my passage to Orleans through a messenger.
The way from Paris to this city, as indeed most of the roads in France, is paved with a small square freestone, so that the country does not much molest the traveler with dirt and ill way, as in England, only 'tis somewhat hard to the poor horses' feet, which causes them to ride more temperately, seldom going out of the trot, or grand pas, as they call it. We passed divers walled towns, or villages; among others of note, Chartres and Etampes, where we lay the first night. This has a fair church. The next day, we had an excellent road; but had liked to come short home: for no sooner were we entered two or three leagues into the Forest of Orleans (which extends[Pg 66] itself many miles), but the company behind us were set on by rogues, who, shooting from the hedges and frequent covert, slew four upon the spot. Among the slain was a captain of Swiss, of the regiment of Picardy, a person much lamented. This disaster made such an alarm in Orleans at our arrival, that the Prevôt Marshal, with his assistants, going in pursuit, brought in two whom they had shot, and exposed them in the great market place, to see if any would take cognizance of them. I had great cause to give God thanks for this escape; when coming to Orleans and lying at the White Cross, I found Mr. John Nicholas, eldest son to Mr. Secretary. In the night a cat kittened on my bed, and left on it a young one having six ears, eight legs, two bodies from the middle downward, and two tails. I found it dead, but warm, in the morning when I awaked.
The journey from Paris to this city, like most roads in France, is paved with small square stones, so travelers aren’t troubled too much by dirt and rough paths, like they are in England. However, it can be pretty hard on the horses’ feet, which makes them go more slowly, usually just trotting or at a slow pace, as they say. We passed several walled towns and villages, including notable ones like Chartres and Etampes, where we stayed our first night. That place has a beautiful church. The next day, we had a great road ahead; but we almost didn’t make it home: as soon as we were a few leagues into the Forest of Orleans (which stretches on for many miles), the group behind us was ambushed by criminals who shot from the bushes and hidden spots, killing four people on the spot. Among the deceased was a captain from the Swiss regiment of Picardy, a person who was greatly mourned. This incident caused such a stir in Orleans when we arrived that the Prevôt Marshal and his team set off in pursuit and captured two of the attackers, exposing them in the main market square to see if anyone recognized them. I was truly thankful for this narrow escape; when I got to Orleans and stayed at the White Cross, I met Mr. John Nicholas, the eldest son of Mr. Secretary. That night, a cat had kittens on my bed, leaving behind one that had six ears, eight legs, two bodies from the waist down, and two tails. I found it dead but still warm when I woke up in the morning.
21st April, 1644. I went about to view the city, which is well built of stone, on the side of the Loire. About the middle of the river is an island, full of walks and fair trees, with some houses. This is contiguous to the town by a stately stone bridge, reaching to the opposite suburbs, built likewise on the edge of a hill, from whence is a beautiful prospect. At one of the extremes of the bridge are strong towers, and about the middle, on one side, is the statue of the Virgin Mary, or Pieta, with the dead Christ in her lap, as big as the life. At one side of the cross, kneels Charles VII., armed, and at the other Joan d'Arc, armed also like a cavalier, with boots and spurs, her hair disheveled, as the deliveress of the town from our countrymen, when they besieged it. The figures are all cast in copper, with a pedestal full of inscriptions, as well as a fair column joining it, which is all adorned with fleurs-de-lis and a crucifix, with two saints proceeding (as it were) from two branches out of its capital. The inscriptions on the cross are in Latin: "Mors Christi in cruce nos á contagione, labis et æternorum morborum sanavit." On the pedestal: "Rex in hoc signo hostes profligavit, et Johanna Virgo Aureliam obsidio liberavit. Non diu ab impiis diruta, restituta sunt hoc anno D'ni 1578. Jean Buret, m. f."—"Octannoque Galliam servitute Britannicâ liberavit. A Domino factum est illud, et est mirabile in oculis nostris; in quorum memorià hæc nostræ fidei Insignia."[Pg 67] To this is made an annual procession on 12th of May, mass being sung before it, attended with great ceremony and concourse of people. The wine of this place is so strong, that the King's cup bearers are, as I was assured, sworn never to give the King any of it: but it is a very noble liquor, and much of it transported into other countries. The town is much frequented by strangers, especially Germans, for the great purity of the language here spoken, as well as for divers other privileges, and the University, which causes the English to make no long sojourn here, except such as can drink and debauch. The city stands in the county of Bealse (Blaisois); was once styled a Kingdom, afterward a Duchy, as at present, belonging to the second son of France. Many Councils have been held here, and some Kings crowned. The University is very ancient, divided now by the students into that of four nations, French, High Dutch, Normans, and Picardines, who have each their respective protectors, several officers, treasurers, consuls, seals, etc. There are in it two reasonable fair public libraries, whence one may borrow a book to one's chamber, giving but a note under hand, which is an extraordinary custom, and a confidence that has cost many libraries dear. The first church I went to visit was St. Croix; it has been a stately fabric, but now much ruined by the late civil wars. They report the tower of it to have been the highest in France. There is the beginning of a fair reparation. About this cathedral there is a very spacious cemetery. The townhouse is also very nobly built, with a high tower to it. The market place and streets, some whereof are deliciously planted with limes, are ample and straight, so well paved with a kind of pebble, that I have not seen a neater town in France. In fine, this city was by Francis I. esteemed the most agreeable of his vast dominions.
21st April, 1644. I went around to explore the city, which is well constructed of stone on the banks of the Loire. In the middle of the river, there's an island filled with pathways and beautiful trees, along with some houses. This island is connected to the town by a grand stone bridge that leads to the suburbs on the other side, which are also built on the edge of a hill, offering a stunning view. At one end of the bridge are strong towers, and in the middle, on one side, is a statue of the Virgin Mary, or Pieta, holding the dead Christ in her lap, life-sized. On one side of the cross, Charles VII. kneels in armor, and on the other side, Joan of Arc also kneels in armor like a knight, with boots and spurs, her hair disheveled, as the savior of the town from our countrymen during the siege. The figures are all made of copper, with a pedestal covered in inscriptions, along with a beautiful column that joins it, all decorated with fleurs-de-lis and a crucifix, with two saints appearing to emerge from two branches out of its capital. The inscriptions on the cross are in Latin: "Mors Christi in cruce nos á contagione, labis et æternorum morborum sanavit." On the pedestal: "Rex in hoc signo hostes profligavit, et Johanna Virgo Aureliam obsidio liberavit. Non diu ab impiis diruta, restituta sunt hoc anno D'ni 1578. Jean Buret, m. f."—"Octannoque Galliam servitute Britannicâ liberavit. A Domino factum est illud, et est mirabile in oculis nostris; in quorum memorià hæc nostræ fidei Insignia."[Pg 67] There is an annual procession held on the 12th of May, with mass sung before it, attended with great ceremony and a large crowd. The wine from this area is so strong that the King's cup bearers, as I was told, are sworn never to give any to the King: but it is a very fine liquor, and much of it is exported to other countries. The town is a popular spot for visitors, especially Germans, due to the purity of the language spoken here and several other privileges, including the University, which means the English don't stay long unless they can drink and indulge. The city is in the county of Bealse (Blaisois); it was once called a Kingdom, later a Duchy, and is currently owned by the second son of France. Many Councils have been held here, and some Kings were crowned. The University is quite old, now divided by students into four nations: French, High Dutch, Normans, and Picardines, each with their own protectors, various officials, treasurers, consuls, seals, etc. There are two fairly good public libraries where you can borrow a book for your room by simply giving a note, which is an unusual practice and a trust that has cost many libraries dearly. The first church I visited was St. Croix; it used to be an impressive structure but is now much damaged from the recent civil wars. They say its tower was the tallest in France. There is the start of impressive restoration work. Around this cathedral, there is a very large cemetery. The town hall is also beautifully built, with a tall tower. The marketplace and streets, some of which are nicely lined with lime trees, are spacious and straight, so well paved with a type of pebble that I have not seen a cleaner town in France. In short, this city was considered by Francis I. to be the most pleasant of his vast territories.
28th April, 1644. Taking boat on the Loire, I went toward Blois, the passage and river being both very pleasant. Passing Mehun, we dined at Baugenci, and slept at a little town called St. Dieu. Quitting our bark, we hired horses to Blois, by the way of Chambord, a famous house of the King's, built by Francis I. in the middle of a solitary park, full of deer, inclosed with a[Pg 68] wall. I was particularly desirous of seeing this palace, from the extravagance of the design, especially the staircase, mentioned by Palladio. It is said that 1800 workmen were constantly employed in this fabric for twelve years: if so, it is wonderful that it was not finished, it being no greater than divers gentlemen's houses in England, both for room and circuit. The carvings are indeed very rich and full. The staircase is devised with four entries, or assents, which cross one another, so that though four persons meet, they never come in sight, but by small loopholes, till they land. It consists of 274 steps (as I remember), and is an extraordinary work, but of far greater expense than use or beauty. The chimneys of the house appear like so many towers. About the whole is a large deep moat. The country about is full of corn, and wine, with many fair noblemen's houses.
28th April, 1644. Taking a boat on the Loire, I headed toward Blois, enjoying a pleasant journey along the river. After passing Mehun, we had lunch at Baugenci and spent the night in a small town called St. Dieu. After leaving our boat, we rented horses to reach Blois via Chambord, a famous residence of the King built by Francis I in the midst of a secluded park filled with deer, surrounded by a[Pg 68] wall. I was particularly eager to see this palace because of its extravagant design, especially the staircase mentioned by Palladio. It’s said that 1,800 workers were constantly employed on this structure for twelve years; it’s amazing that it wasn’t finished, considering it’s no larger than many gentlemen’s houses in England, both in space and layout. The carvings are indeed quite elaborate and impressive. The staircase is designed with four entrances that intersect, so even if four people meet, they can only catch glimpses of each other through small openings until they reach the bottom. It has 274 steps (as I recall) and is an extraordinary feat, though it’s much more expensive than practical or aesthetically pleasing. The chimneys of the house resemble towers. Surrounding it is a large, deep moat. The countryside is abundant with grain and wine, dotted with many beautiful noble estates.
We arrived at Blois in the evening. The town is hilly, uneven, and rugged, standing on the side of the Loire, having suburbs joined by a stately stone bridge, on which is a pyramid with an inscription. At the entrance of the castle is a stone statue of Louis XII. on horseback, as large as life, under a Gothic state; and a little below are these words:
We got to Blois in the evening. The town is hilly, uneven, and rugged, perched on the side of the Loire, with suburbs connected by an impressive stone bridge, which features a pyramid with an inscription. At the entrance of the castle, there's a life-sized stone statue of Louis XII on horseback, underneath a Gothic canopy; and just below it are these words:
Took the royal scepter in hand; Felix, how brightly the light of the King's messenger shines now!
"Gallica was not deserving of any other ruler."
Under this is a very wide pair of gates, nailed full of wolves and wild-boars' heads. Behind the castle the present Duke Gaston had begun a fair building, through which we walked into a large garden, esteemed for its furniture one of the fairest, especially for simples and exotic plants, in which he takes extraordinary delight. On the right hand is a long gallery full of ancient statues and inscriptions, both of marble and brass; the length, 300 paces, divides the garden into higher and lower ground, having a very noble fountain. There is the portrait of a hart, taken in the forest by Louis XII., which has twenty-four antlers on its head. In the Collegiate Church of St. Savior, we saw many sepulchres of the Earls of Blois.
Under this is a very wide pair of gates, nailed full of wolves and wild boars' heads. Behind the castle, the current Duke Gaston had started a beautiful building, through which we walked into a large garden, known for its furnishings as one of the finest, particularly for its herbs and exotic plants, which he takes great pleasure in. On the right side is a long gallery filled with ancient statues and inscriptions, both in marble and brass; the length, 300 paces, divides the garden into higher and lower ground, featuring a magnificent fountain. There is a portrait of a stag, captured in the forest by Louis XII, which has twenty-four antlers on its head. In the Collegiate Church of St. Savior, we saw many tombs of the Earls of Blois.
On Sunday, being May-day, we walked up into Pall Mall, very long, and so noble shaded with tall trees[Pg 69] (being in the midst of a great wood), that unless that of Tours, I had not seen a statelier.
On Sunday, May Day, we walked up Pall Mall, which was very long and beautifully shaded with tall trees[Pg 69] (right in the middle of a large forest), and it was the most impressive one I had seen, except for that in Tours.
From hence, we proceeded with a friend of mine through the adjoining forest, to see if we could meet any wolves, which are here in such numbers that they often come and take children out of the very streets; yet will not the Duke, who is sovereign here, permit them to be destroyed. We walked five or six miles outright; but met with none; yet a gentleman, who was resting himself under a tree, with his horse grazing by him, told us that half an hour before, two wolves had set upon his horse, and had in probability devoured him, but for a dog which lay by him. At a little village at the end of this wood, we ate excellent cream, and visited a castle builded on a very steep cliff.
From there, my friend and I went through the nearby forest to see if we could spot any wolves, which are so numerous here that they often come and take children right off the streets; yet the Duke, who rules here, won’t allow them to be killed. We walked about five or six miles but didn’t see any; however, a gentleman resting under a tree with his horse grazing nearby told us that half an hour earlier, two wolves had attacked his horse and probably would have eaten it if a dog hadn’t been there. At a small village at the edge of this wood, we had some amazing cream and visited a castle built on a very steep cliff.
Blois is a town where the language is exactly spoken; the inhabitants very courteous; the air so good, that it is the ordinary nursery of the King's children. The people are so ingenious, that, for goldsmith's work and watches, no place in France affords the like. The pastures by the river are very rich and pleasant.
Blois is a town where people speak clearly; the locals are very polite; the air is so fresh that it’s a common place for the King’s children to grow up. The residents are so skilled that no other place in France offers better goldsmithing and watchmaking. The fields by the river are lush and delightful.
2d May, 1644. We took boat again, passing by Charmont, a proud castle on the left hand; before it is a sweet island, deliciously shaded with tall trees. A little distance from hence, we went on shore at Amboise, a very agreeable village, built of stone, and the houses covered with blue slate, as the towns on the Loire generally are; but the castle chiefly invited us, the thickness of whose towers from the river to the top, was admirable. We entered by the drawbridge, which has an invention to let one fall, if not premonished. It is full of halls and spacious chambers, and one staircase is large enough, and sufficiently commodious, to receive a coach, and land it on the very tower, as they told us had been done. There is some artillery in it; but that which is most observable is in the ancient chapel, viz, a stag's head, or branches, hung up by chains, consisting of twenty browantlers, the beam bigger than a man's middle, and of an incredible length. Indeed, it is monstrous, and yet I cannot conceive how it should be artificial they show also the ribs and vertebræ of the same beast; but these might be made of whalebone.
2nd May, 1644. We took a boat again, passing by Charmont, a grand castle on the left. In front of it is a lovely island, beautifully shaded by tall trees. A short distance from there, we landed at Amboise, a charming village made of stone, with houses covered in blue slate, as is typical in towns along the Loire. But what really drew us in was the castle, whose thick towers, rising from the river to the top, were impressive. We entered through the drawbridge, which has a mechanism that can drop it if not warned. The castle is filled with halls and spacious rooms, and one staircase is large enough and wide enough to fit a coach, bringing it right to the tower, as we were told had actually happened. There is some artillery there, but what stands out the most is in the old chapel: a stag's head or antlers hanging by chains, made up of twenty brow antlers, with the beam thicker than a man's waist and incredibly long. It is truly monstrous, and yet I can't imagine it being artificial. They also show the ribs and vertebrae of the same beast, but those might be made of whalebone.
Leaving the castle, we passed Mont Louis, a village[Pg 70] having no houses above ground but such only as are hewn out of the main rocks of excellent freestone. Here and there the funnel of a chimney appears on the surface among the vineyards which are over them, and in this manner they inhabit the caves, as it were sea-cliffs, on one side of the river for many miles.
Leaving the castle, we passed Mont Louis, a village[Pg 70] with no houses above ground, only those carved out of the solid rock of high-quality freestone. Here and there, a chimney sticks up through the vineyards above, and this is how they live in the caves that resemble coastal cliffs along one side of the river for many miles.
We now came within sight of Tours, where we were designed for the rest of the time I had resolved to stay in France, the sojournment being so agreeable. Tours is situate on the east side of a hill on the river Loire, having a fair bridge of stone called St. Edme; the streets are very long, straight, spacious, well built, and exceeding clean; the suburbs large and pleasant, joined to the city by another bridge. Both the church and monastery of St. Martin are large, of Gothic building, having four square towers, fair organs, and a stately altar, where they show the bones and ashes of St. Martin, with other relics. The Mall without comparison is the noblest in Europe for length and shade, having seven rows of the tallest and goodliest elms I had ever beheld, the innermost of which do so embrace each other, and at such a height, that nothing can be more solemn and majestical. Here we played a party, or party or two, and then walked about the town walls, built of square stone, filled with earth, and having a moat. No city in France exceeds it in beauty, or delight.
We finally arrived in Tours, where I planned to spend the rest of my time in France because it was such a wonderful place. Tours is located on the east side of a hill by the Loire River, featuring a beautiful stone bridge called St. Edme. The streets are long, straight, spacious, well-built, and incredibly clean; the suburbs are large and pleasant, connected to the city by another bridge. The church and monastery of St. Martin are impressive Gothic structures with four square towers, beautiful organs, and a grand altar, where they display the bones and ashes of St. Martin, along with other relics. The Mall is without a doubt the most magnificent in Europe for its length and shade, lined with seven rows of the tallest and most magnificent elms I've ever seen, with the innermost rows intertwining at a height that creates a truly solemn and majestic atmosphere. Here, we played a game or two and then walked around the town walls, which are made of square stone, filled with earth, and surrounded by a moat. No city in France surpasses it in beauty or charm.
6th May, 1644. We went to St. Gatian, reported to have been built by our countrymen; the dial and clockwork are much esteemed. The church has two handsome towers and spires of stone, and the whole fabric is very noble and venerable. To this joins the palace of the Archbishop, consisting both of old and new building, with many fair rooms, and a fair garden. Here I grew acquainted with one Monsieur Merey, a very good musician. The Archbishop treated me very courteously. We visited divers other churches, chapels, and monasteries for the most part neatly built, and full of pretty paintings, especially the Convent of the Capuchins, which has a prospect over the whole city, and many fair walks.
6th May, 1644. We went to St. Gatian, which is said to have been built by our fellow countrymen; the clock and dial are highly regarded. The church features two beautiful stone towers and spires, and the entire structure is quite impressive and majestic. Next to it is the palace of the Archbishop, which includes both old and new buildings, with many lovely rooms and a nice garden. Here, I met Monsieur Merey, a very talented musician. The Archbishop treated me with great kindness. We visited several other churches, chapels, and monasteries, most of which were well-built and adorned with beautiful paintings, especially the Convent of the Capuchins, which offers a view of the entire city and has many delightful walkways.
8th May, 1644. I went to see their manufactures in silk (for in this town they drive a very considerable trade with silk-worms), their pressing and watering the gro[Pg 71]grams and camlets, with weights of an extraordinary poise, put into a rolling engine. Here I took a master of the language, and studied the tongue very diligently, recreating myself sometimes at the Mall, and sometimes about the town. The house opposite my lodging had been formerly a King's palace; the outside was totally covered with fleur-de-lis, embossed out of the stone. Here Mary de Medicis held her Court, when she was compelled to retire from Paris by the persecution of the great Cardinal.
8th May, 1644. I went to check out their silk production (since this town has a significant trade with silk-worms), their pressing and treating of the gro[Pg 71]grams and camlets, using weights that were exceptionally heavy, put into a rolling machine. Here I hired a tutor for the language and studied it very hard, sometimes relaxing at the Mall and other times exploring the town. The building across from my place used to be a royal palace; the exterior was completely covered with fleur-de-lis, carved out of the stone. Here, Mary de Medicis held her Court when she was forced to leave Paris due to the persecution by the powerful Cardinal.
25th May, 1644. Was the Fête Dieu, and a goodly procession of all the religious orders, the whole streets hung with their best tapestries, and their most precious movables exposed; silks, damasks, velvets, plate, and pictures in abundance; the streets strewed with flowers, and full of pageantry, banners, and bravery.
25th May, 1644. It was the Feast of Corpus Christi, and there was a grand procession of all the religious orders. The streets were decorated with their finest tapestries, and their most valuable items were on display; silks, damasks, velvets, silverware, and paintings everywhere. The streets were covered in flowers, filled with pageantry, banners, and splendor.
6th June, 1644. I went by water to visit that goodly and venerable Abbey of Marmoutiers, being one of the greatest in the kingdom; to it is a very ample church of stone, with a very high pyramid. Among other relics the Monks showed us is the Holy Ampoulle, the same with that which sacres their Kings at Rheims, this being the one that anointed Henry IV. Ascending many steps, we went into the Abbot's Palace, where we were showed a vast tun (as big as that at Heidelberg), which they report St. Martin (as I remember) filled from one cluster of grapes growing there.
6th June, 1644. I traveled by boat to visit the impressive and ancient Abbey of Marmoutiers, one of the largest in the kingdom; it features a spacious stone church with a very tall spire. Among other relics, the monks showed us the Holy Ampoule, the same one used to anoint their kings at Rheims, which was used to crown Henry IV. After climbing many steps, we entered the Abbot's Palace, where we saw a massive wine barrel (as big as the one in Heidelberg) that, according to legend, St. Martin filled with wine from a single cluster of grapes grown there.
7th June, 1644. We walked about two miles from the city to an agreeable solitude, called Du Plessis, a house belonging to the King. It has many pretty gardens, full of nightingales; and, in the chapel, lies buried the famous poet, Ronsard.
7th June, 1644. We walked about two miles from the city to a pleasant quiet place called Du Plessis, a house owned by the King. It has many lovely gardens, filled with nightingales; and in the chapel, the famous poet Ronsard is buried.
Returning, we stepped into a Convent of Franciscans, called St. Cosmo, where the cloister is painted with the miracles of their St. Francis à Paula, whose ashes lie in their chapel, with this inscription: "Corpus Sancti Fran. à Paula 1507, 13 Aprilis, concrematur verò ab Hæreticis anno 1562, cujus quidem ossa et cineres hìc jacent." The tomb has four small pyramids of marble at each corner.
Returning, we entered a Franciscan convent called St. Cosmo, where the cloister is decorated with the miracles of St. Francis of Paula, whose ashes are in their chapel, with this inscription: "Corpus Sancti Fran. à Paula 1507, 13 Aprilis, concrematur verò ab Hæreticis anno 1562, cujus quidem ossa et cineres hìc jacent." The tomb has four small marble pyramids at each corner.
9th June, 1644. I was invited to a vineyard, which was so artificially planted and supported with arched poles, that stooping down one might see from end to end, a very great length, under the vines, the bunches hanging down in abundance.[Pg 72]
9th June, 1644. I was invited to a vineyard that was so carefully arranged and supported with arching poles that if you bent down, you could see a long stretch under the vines, with clusters hanging down abundantly.[Pg 72]
20th June, 1644. We took horse to see certain natural caves, called Gouttière, near Colombière, where there is a spring within the bowels of the earth, very deep and so excessive cold, that the drops meeting with some lapidescent matter, it converts them into a hard stone, which hangs about it like icicles, having many others in the form of comfitures and sugar plums, as we call them.
20th June, 1644. We rode out to see some natural caves called Gouttière, near Colombière, where there's a spring deep underground that's so cold that the drops, when they come into contact with some stony material, turn into a hard stone that hangs around like icicles, with many others shaped like candies and sugar plums, as we call them.
Near this, we went under the ground almost two furlongs, lighted with candles, to see the source and spring which serves the whole city, by a passage cut through the main rock of freestone.
Near this, we went underground for almost two furlongs, lit by candles, to see the source and spring that serves the entire city, through a passage carved into the main rock of freestone.
28th June, 1644. I went to see the palace and gardens of Chevereux, a sweet place.
28th June, 1644. I went to check out the palace and gardens of Chevereux, a lovely spot.
30th June, 1644. I walked through the vineyards as far as Roche Corbé, to the ruins of an old and very strong castle, said to have been built by the English, of great height, on the precipice of a dreadful cliff, from whence the country and river yield a most incomparable prospect.
30th June, 1644. I walked through the vineyards all the way to Roche Corbé, to the ruins of an old and very strong castle, which is said to have been built by the English. It stands tall on the edge of a steep cliff, offering an incredible view of the countryside and the river.
27th July, 1644. I heard excellent music at the Jesuits, who have here a school and convent, but a mean chapel. We have now store of those admirable melons, so much celebrated in France for the best in the kingdom.
27th July, 1644. I heard beautiful music at the Jesuits, who have a school and convent here, but a modest chapel. We now have plenty of those amazing melons, which are so highly praised in France as the best in the kingdom.
1st August, 1644. My valet, one Garro, a Spaniard, born in Biscao, having misbehaved, I was forced to discharge him; he demanded of me (besides his wages) no less than 100 crowns to carry him to his country; refusing to pay it, as no part of our agreement, he had the impudence to arrest me; the next day I was to appear in Court, where both our avocats pleaded before the Lieutenant Civil; but it was so unreasonable a pretense, that the Judge had not patience to hear it out. The Judge immediately acquitted me, after he had reproached the avocat who took part with my servant, he rose from the Bench, and making a courteous excuse to me, that being a stranger I should be so used, he conducted me through the court to the street-door. This varlet afterward threatened to pistol me. The next day, I waited on the Lieutenant, to thank him for his great civility.
1st August, 1644. My servant, a Spaniard named Garro from Biscao, misbehaved, and I had to let him go. He asked me for not only his wages but also 100 crowns to take him back to his country. When I refused to pay, since it wasn't part of our agreement, he had the audacity to arrest me. The next day, I had to appear in court, where both of our lawyers presented our cases before the civil lieutenant. It was such an unreasonable claim that the judge couldn’t even listen to it fully. He immediately cleared me of the charges after scolding the lawyer who sided with my former servant. He then stood up from the bench and, politely apologizing for the incident since I was a stranger, escorted me out of the courtroom to the street door. This scoundrel later threatened to shoot me. The following day, I went to thank the lieutenant for his kindness.
18th August, 1644. The Queen of England came to Tours, having newly arrived in France, and going for Paris. She was very nobly received by the people and[Pg 73] clergy, who went to meet her with the trained bands. After the harangue, the Archbishop entertained her at his Palace, where I paid my duty to her. The 20th she set forward to Paris.
18th August, 1644. The Queen of England arrived in Tours after just getting to France, on her way to Paris. The people and clergy welcomed her warmly, coming out to meet her with their organized groups. After the speech, the Archbishop hosted her at his Palace, where I showed my respect to her. On the 20th, she continued her journey to Paris.
8th September, 1644. Two of my kinsmen came from Paris to this place, where I settled them in their pension and exercises.
8th September, 1644. Two of my relatives came from Paris to this place, where I set them up in their lodging and activities.
14th September, 1644. We took post for Richelieu, passing by l'Isle Bouchard, a village in the way. The next day, we arrived, and went to see the Cardinal's Palace, near it. The town is built in a low, marshy ground, having a narrow river cut by hand, very even and straight, capable of bringing up a small vessel. It consists of only one considerable street, the houses on both sides (as indeed throughout the town) built exactly uniform, after a modern handsome design. It has a large goodly market house and place, opposite to which is the church built of freestone, having two pyramids of stone, which stand hollow from the towers. The church is well built, and of a well-ordered architecture, within handsomely paved and adorned. To this place belongs an Academy, where, besides the exercise of the horse, arms, dancing, etc., all the sciences are taught in the vulgar French by professors stipendiated by the great Cardinal, who by this, the cheap living there, and divers privileges, not only designed the improvement of the vulgar language, but to draw people and strangers to the town; but since the Cardinal's death, it is thinly inhabited; standing so much out of the way, and in a place not well situated for health, or pleasure. He was allured to build by the name of the place, and an old house there belonging to his ancestors. This pretty town is handsomely walled about and moated, with a kind of slight fortification, two fair gates and drawbridges. Before the gate, toward the palace, is a spacious circle, where the fair is annually kept. About a flight-shot from the town is the Cardinal's house, a princely pile, though on an old design, not altogether Gothic, but mixed, and environed by a clear moat. The rooms are stately, most richly furnished with tissue, damask, arras, and velvet, pictures, statues, vases, and all sorts of antiquities, especially the Cæsars, in oriental alabaster. The long gallery is painted with the famous acts of the Founder;[Pg 74] the roof with the life of Julius Cæsar; at the end of it is a cupola, or singing theatre, supported by very stately pillars of black marble. The chapel anciently belonged to the family of the Founder. The court is very ample. The gardens without are very large, and the parterres of excellent embroidery, set with many statues of brass and marble; the groves, meadows, and walks are a real Paradise.
14th September, 1644. We set out for Richelieu, passing through l'Isle Bouchard, a village along the way. The next day, we arrived and visited the Cardinal's Palace nearby. The town is built on low, marshy ground, with a narrow river that has been dug out by hand, straight and level, capable of accommodating a small vessel. It has only one significant street, with houses on both sides (as is the case throughout the town) built in perfect uniformity, following a modern attractive design. There’s a large, impressive market hall across from the church made of freestone, which features two hollow stone pyramids rising from the towers. The church is well built, with well-ordered architecture, handsomely paved and decorated inside. The place is home to an Academy, where, in addition to horseback riding, weapon training, dancing, and so on, all subjects are taught in everyday French by professors paid by the great Cardinal. His aim was to improve the everyday language and attract people and visitors to the town, through the affordable living costs and various privileges. However, since the Cardinal's death, the town has become sparsely populated, being somewhat isolated and situated in a place not ideal for health or pleasure. He was drawn to build there by the town's name and an old house that belonged to his ancestors. This charming town is nicely enclosed with walls and a moat, featuring light fortifications with two attractive gates and drawbridges. In front of the gate, toward the palace, is a spacious square where a fair is held every year. About a short distance from the town is the Cardinal's residence, a grand structure, though designed in an old style, not entirely Gothic but a mix, surrounded by a clear moat. The rooms are impressive and richly furnished with silk, damask, tapestries, and velvet, along with paintings, statues, vases, and various antiques, especially those of the Caesars in oriental alabaster. The long gallery is painted with the notable deeds of the Founder; the ceiling depicts the life of Julius Caesar; at the end is a cupola or singing theater supported by very stately pillars of black marble. The chapel originally belonged to the Founder’s family. The courtyard is very spacious. The gardens outside are quite large, with beautifully designed flowerbeds, and adorned with many statues of brass and marble; the groves, meadows, and pathways truly resemble a paradise.
16th September, 1644. We returned to Tours, from whence, after nineteen weeks' sojourn, we traveled toward the more southern part of France, minding now to shape my course so, as I might winter in Italy. With my friend, Mr. Thicknesse, and our guide, we went the first day seven leagues to a castle called Chenonceau, built by Catherine de Medicis, and now belonging to the Duke de Vendôme, standing on a bridge. In the gallery, among divers other excellent statues, is that of Scipio Africanus, of oriental alabaster.
September 16, 1644. We returned to Tours, where, after a stay of nineteen weeks, we headed towards the southern part of France, planning to ensure I could spend the winter in Italy. With my friend, Mr. Thicknesse, and our guide, we traveled seven leagues on the first day to a castle called Chenonceau, built by Catherine de Medicis, and now owned by the Duke de Vendôme, which is situated on a bridge. In the gallery, among various other remarkable statues, there is one of Scipio Africanus made of oriental alabaster.
21st September, 1644. We passed by Villefranche, where we dined, and so by Muneton, lying at Viaron-au-mouton, which was twenty leagues. The next day by Murg to Bourges, four leagues, where we spent the day. This is the capital of Berry, an University much frequented by the Dutch, situated on the river Eure. It stands high, is strong, and well placed for defense; is environed with meadows and vines, and the living here is very cheap. In the suburbs of St. Privé, there is a fountain of sharp water which they report wholesome against the stone. They showed us a vast tree which they say stands in the center of France. The French tongue is spoken with great purity in this place. St. Stephen's church is the cathedral, well built à la Gothique, full of sepulchres without-side, with the representation of the final Judgment over one of the ports. Here they show the chapel of Claude de la Chastre, a famous soldier who had served six kings of France in their wars. St. Chapelle is built much like that at Paris, full of relics, and containing the bones of one Briat, a giant of fifteen cubits high. It was erected by John, Duke of Berry, and there is showed the coronet of the dukedom. The great tower is a Pharos for defense of the town, very strong, in thickness eighteen feet, fortified with graffs and works; there is a garrison in it, and a strange engine for throwing great stones,[Pg 75] and the iron cage where Louis, Duke of Orleans, was kept by Charles VIII. Near the Town-house stands the College of Jesuits, where was heretofore an Amphitheater. I was courteously entertained by a Jesuit, who had us into the garden, where we fell into disputation. The house of Jaques Cœur is worth seeing. Bourges is an Archbishopric and Primacy of Aquitaine. I took my leave of Mr. Nicholas, and some other English there; and, on the 23d, proceeded on my journey by Pont du Charge; and lay that evening at Coulaiure, thirteen leagues.
21st September, 1644. We passed through Villefranche, where we had lunch, and then continued on to Muneton, stopping at Viaron-au-mouton, which was twenty leagues away. The next day we traveled from Murg to Bourges, four leagues, where we spent the day. This is the capital of Berry, a university town popular with the Dutch, located on the river Eure. It sits high, is strong, and well-positioned for defense; it's surrounded by meadows and vineyards, and living costs are very low here. In the suburbs of St. Privé, there’s a fountain with sharp water that is said to be good for treating kidney stones. They showed us a huge tree that they claim is in the center of France. The French language is spoken very clearly in this area. St. Stephen's church is the cathedral, well-built in a Gothic style, full of tombs outside, featuring a depiction of the Last Judgment over one of the doors. Here, they display the chapel of Claude de la Chastre, a famous soldier who served six kings of France in their wars. St. Chapelle is built much like the one in Paris, filled with relics and containing the bones of a giant named Briat, who was fifteen cubits tall. It was built by John, Duke of Berry, and they show the ducal crown there. The great tower serves as a lighthouse for the town's defense, incredibly strong, with walls eighteen feet thick, fortified with trenches and installations; there’s a garrison inside, and a strange machine for launching large stones, and the iron cage where Louis, Duke of Orleans, was held by Charles VIII. Next to the Town Hall stands the College of Jesuits, which used to be an amphitheater. I was graciously welcomed by a Jesuit, who took us into the garden, where we engaged in a debate. The house of Jacques Cœur is worth a visit. Bourges is an archbishopric and the primacy of Aquitaine. I bid farewell to Mr. Nicholas and some other English people there; and on the 23rd, I continued my journey via Pont du Charge, spending that evening at Coulaiure, thirteen leagues away.
24th September, 1644. By Franchesse, St. Menoux, thence to Moulins, where we dined. This is the chief town of the Bourbonnois, on the river Allier, very navigable. The streets are fair; the castle has a noble prospect, and has been the seat of the Dukes. Here is a pretty park and garden. After dinner, came many who offered knives and scissors to sell; it being a town famous for these trifles. This Duchy of Bourbon is ordinarily assigned for the dowry of the Queens of France.
24th September, 1644. By Franchesse, St. Menoux, then to Moulins, where we had lunch. This is the main town of Bourbonnois, located by the highly navigable river Allier. The streets are nice; the castle has a grand view and has been the residence of the Dukes. There’s a lovely park and garden here. After lunch, many people came by offering knives and scissors for sale, as this town is well-known for these small items. This Duchy of Bourbon is typically given as a dowry for the Queens of France.
Hence, we took horse for Varennes, an obscure village, where we lay that night. The next day, we went somewhat out of the way to see the town of Bourbon l'Archambaut, from whose ancient and rugged castle is derived the name of the present Royal Family of France. The castle stands on a flinty rock, overlooking the town. In the midst of the streets are some baths of medicinal waters, some of them excessive hot, but nothing so neatly walled and adorned as ours in Somersetshire; and indeed they are chiefly used to drink of, our Queen being then lodged there for that purpose. After dinner, I went to see the St. Chapelle, a prime place of devotion, where is kept one of the thorns of our Savior's crown, and a piece of the real cross; excellent paintings on glass, and some few statues of stone and wood, which they show for curiosities. Hence, we went forward to La Palise, a village that lodged us that night.
So, we took a horse to Varennes, a small village, where we stayed the night. The next day, we took a bit of a detour to check out the town of Bourbon l'Archambaut, named after its ancient and rugged castle, which is where the current Royal Family of France gets its name. The castle is built on a rocky outcrop and overlooks the town. In the middle of the streets are some baths with medicinal waters, some of which are really hot, but none are as nicely walled and decorated as ours in Somersetshire; in fact, they mainly use them for drinking, since our Queen was staying there for that reason. After lunch, I went to see the St. Chapelle, a major place of worship, where they keep one of the thorns from our Savior's crown and a piece of the real cross; there are also excellent stained glass paintings and a few stone and wooden statues displayed as curiosities. After that, we continued on to La Palise, a village where we spent the night.
26th September, 1644. We arrived at Roane, where we quitted our guide, and took post for Lyons. Roane seemed to me one of the pleasantest and most agreeable places imaginable, for a retired person: for, besides the situation on the Loire, there are excellent provisions cheap and abundant. It being late when we left this town, we rode no further than Tarare that night (passing[Pg 76] St. Saforin), a little desolate village in a valley near a pleasant stream, encompassed with fresh meadows and vineyards. The hills which we rode over before we descended, and afterward, on the Lyons side of this place, are high and mountainous; fir and pines growing frequently on them. The air methought was much altered as well as the manner of the houses, which are built flatter, more after the eastern manner. Before I went to bed, I took a landscape of this pleasant terrace. There followed a most violent tempest of thunder and lightning.
26th September, 1644. We arrived at Roane, where we parted ways with our guide and took a stagecoach to Lyons. Roane struck me as one of the most charming and delightful places imaginable for someone seeking solitude: besides its location on the Loire, it has excellent food that is cheap and plentiful. Since it was late when we left this town, we only traveled as far as Tarare that night (passing[Pg 76] St. Saforin), a little desolate village in a valley by a lovely stream, surrounded by lush meadows and vineyards. The hills we traversed before descending, and after that, on the Lyons side of this area, are tall and mountainous, often covered with firs and pines. The air felt notably different, as did the style of the houses, which are flatter and more in line with eastern architecture. Before going to bed, I captured a view of this charming terrace. Then a fierce storm of thunder and lightning hit.
27th September, 1644. We rode by Pont Charu to Lyons, which being but six leagues we soon accomplished, having made eighty-five leagues from Tours in seven days. Here at the Golden Lion, rue de Flandre, I met divers of my acquaintance, who, coming from Paris, were designed for Italy. We lost no time in seeing the city, because of being ready to accompany these gentlemen in their journey. Lyons is excellently situated on the confluence of the rivers Soane and Rhone, which wash the walls of the city in a very rapid stream; each of these has its bridge; that over the Rhone consists of twenty-eight arches. The two high cliffs, called St. Just and St. Sebastian, are very stately; on one of them stands a strong fort, garrisoned. We visited the cathedral, St. Jean, where was one of the fairest clocks for art and busy invention I had ever seen. The fabric of the church is gothic, as are likewise those of St. Etienne and St. Croix. From the top of one of the towers of St. Jean (for it has four) we beheld the whole city and country, with a prospect reaching to the Alps, many leagues distant. The Archbishop's palace is fairly built. The church of St. Nisier is the greatest; that of the Jacobins is well built. Here are divers other fine churches and very noble buildings we had not time to visit, only that of the Charité, or great hospital for poor, infirm people, entertaining about 1,500 souls, with a school, granary, gardens, and all conveniences, maintained at a wonderful expense, worthy seeing. The place of the Belle Cour is very spacious, observable for the view it affords, so various and agreeable, of hills, rocks, vineyards, gardens, precipices, and other extravagant and incomparable advantages presenting themselves together. The Pall Mall is set with fair trees. In fine, this stately, clean,[Pg 77] and noble city, built all of stone, abounds in persons of quality and rich merchants: those of Florence obtaining great privileges above the rest. In the Town-house, they show two tables of brass, on which is engraven Claudius's speech, pronounced to the Senate, concerning the franchising of the town, with the Roman privileges. There are also other antiquities.
27th September, 1644. We rode from Pont Charu to Lyons, which is only six leagues away, so we got there quickly, having traveled eighty-five leagues from Tours in seven days. Here at the Golden Lion on rue de Flandre, I met several acquaintances who had come from Paris and were heading to Italy. We wasted no time exploring the city since we were ready to join these gentlemen on their journey. Lyons is beautifully located at the meeting point of the Soane and Rhone rivers, which swiftly flow by the city’s walls; each river has its own bridge, with the one over the Rhone featuring twenty-eight arches. The two tall cliffs, known as St. Just and St. Sebastian, are quite impressive; one of them has a solid fort with a garrison. We visited the cathedral, St. Jean, which has one of the most beautiful clocks I’ve ever seen, showcasing incredible craftsmanship and creativity. The church’s architecture is Gothic, similar to that of St. Etienne and St. Croix. From the top of one of St. Jean’s four towers, we could see the entire city and countryside, with views reaching all the way to the Alps, many leagues away. The Archbishop's palace is nicely built. The church of St. Nisier is the largest, and the Jacobins church is well constructed. There are several other beautiful churches and impressive buildings we didn’t have time to see, except for the Charité, or large hospital for the poor and infirm, which accommodates about 1,500 people and includes a school, granary, gardens, and all necessary facilities, maintained at a considerable expense and well worth a visit. The area known as Belle Cour is very spacious, offering a diverse and enjoyable view of hills, rocks, vineyards, gardens, cliffs, and other extraordinary and unique sights all together. The Pall Mall is lined with beautiful trees. In short, this impressive, clean, and noble city, built entirely of stone, is filled with people of high status and wealthy merchants, particularly those from Florence, who enjoy special privileges. In the Town Hall, they display two brass plaques engraved with Claudius's speech to the Senate about granting the town its freedoms along with Roman privileges. There are also other historical artifacts.
30th September, 1644. We bargained with a waterman to carry us to Avignon on the river, and got the first night to Vienne, in Dauphiné. This is an Archbishopric, and the province gives title to the heir-apparent of France. Here we supped and lay, having among other dainties, a dish of truffles, which is a certain earth-nut, found out by a hog trained to it, and for which those animals are sold at a great price. It is in truth an incomparable meat. We were shown the ruins of an amphitheatre, pretty entire; and many handsome palaces, especially that of Pontius Pilate, not far from the town, at the foot of a solitary mountain, near the river, having four pinnacles. Here it is reported he passed his exile, and precipitated himself into the lake not far from it. The house is modern, and seems to be the seat of some gentleman; being in a very pleasant, though melancholy place. The cathedral of Vienne is St. Maurice; and there are many other pretty buildings, but nothing more so, than the mills where they hammer and polish the sword blades.
30th September, 1644. We negotiated with a boatman to take us to Avignon on the river, and reached Vienne in Dauphiné by nightfall. This is an Archbishopric, and the province grants the title to the heir-apparent of France. We had dinner and stayed overnight, enjoying, among other delicacies, a dish of truffles, which are a type of fungus found by a pig trained for that purpose, and for which those animals are sold at a high price. Truly, it's an exceptional delicacy. We were shown the ruins of a nearly intact amphitheater, along with many beautiful palaces, especially that of Pontius Pilate, located not far from the town at the base of a solitary mountain, near the river, and with four spires. It is said he spent his exile there and threw himself into the nearby lake. The house is modern and appears to belong to some gentleman, settled in a very charming yet somber area. The cathedral of Vienne is St. Maurice, and there are many other lovely buildings, but none more so than the mills where they shape and polish sword blades.
Hence, the next morning we swam (for the river here is so rapid that the boat was only steered) to a small village called Thein, where we dined. Over against this is another town, named Tournon, where is a very strong castle under a high precipice. To the castle joins the Jesuits' College, who have a fair library. The prospect was so tempting, that I could not forbear designing it with my crayon.
So, the next morning we swam (because the river here is so fast that the boat could only be steered) to a small village called Thein, where we had lunch. Across from this is another town, called Tournon, which has a very strong castle on a steep cliff. Next to the castle is the Jesuits' College, which has a nice library. The view was so appealing that I couldn’t help but sketch it with my crayon.
We then came to Valence, a capital city carrying the title of a Duchy; but the Bishop is now sole Lord temporal of it, and the country about it. The town having a University famous for the study of the civil law, is much frequented; but the churches are none of the fairest, having been greatly defaced in the time of the wars. The streets are full of pretty fountains. The citadel is strong and garrisoned. Here we passed the night, and[Pg 78] the next morning by Pont St. Esprit, which consists of twenty-two arches; in the piers of the arches are windows, as it were, to receive the water when it is high and full. Here we went on shore, it being very dangerous to pass the bridge in a boat.
We then arrived at Valence, a capital city that is the seat of a Duchy; however, the Bishop is now the sole temporal Lord of the city and its surrounding area. The town, which has a University known for its civil law studies, is quite popular; but the churches aren't very beautiful, having been badly damaged during the wars. The streets are lined with charming fountains. The citadel is strong and has a garrison stationed there. We spent the night here, and[Pg 78] the next morning we crossed Pont St. Esprit, which has twenty-two arches; the piers of the arches have windows designed to let the water through when it's high and full. We disembarked here, as it was very risky to cross the bridge by boat.
Hence, leaving our barge, we took horse, seeing at a distance the town and principality of Orange; and, lodging one night on the way, we arrived at noon at Avignon. This town has belonged to the Popes ever since the time of Clement V.; being, in 1352, alienated by Jane, Queen of Naples and Sicily. Entering the gates, the soldiers at the guard took our pistols and carbines, and examined us very strictly; after that, having obtained the Governor's and the Vice-Legate's leave to tarry three days, we were civilly conducted to our lodging. The city is on the Rhone, and divided from the newer part, or town, which is on the other side of the river, by a very fair stone bridge (which has been broken); at one end is a very high rock, on which is a strong castle well furnished with artillery. The walls of the city are of large, square freestone, the most neat and best in repair I ever saw. It is full of well-built palaces; those of the Vice-Legate and Archbishop being the most magnificent. There are many sumptuous churches, especially that of St. Magdalene and St. Martial, wherein the tomb of the Cardinal d'Amboise is the most observable. Clement VI. lies buried in that of the Celestines, the altar whereof is exceedingly rich: but for nothing I more admired it than the tomb of Madonna Laura, the celebrated mistress of Petrarch. We saw the Arsenal, the Pope's palace, and the Synagogue of the Jews, who here are distinguished by their red hats. Vaucluse, so much renowned for the solitude of Petrarch, we beheld from the castle; but could not go to visit it for want of time, being now taking mules and a guide for Marseilles.
So, after leaving our barge, we mounted our horses, spotting the town and principality of Orange in the distance. We spent one night on the journey and reached Avignon by noon. This town has been under the Popes' control since the time of Clement V.; it was taken over in 1352 by Jane, Queen of Naples and Sicily. When we entered the gates, the guards confiscated our pistols and carbines and examined us closely. After that, we got permission from the Governor and the Vice-Legate to stay for three days and were politely shown to our lodging. The city sits on the Rhône River, separated from the newer part of town on the opposite bank by a beautiful stone bridge (which is partially broken). At one end, there’s a tall rock with a strong castle well-equipped with artillery. The city walls are made of large, square freestone, the neatest and best-maintained I've ever seen. It’s filled with well-constructed palaces, with the Vice-Legate’s and Archbishop’s being the most impressive. There are many grand churches, especially St. Magdalene and St. Martial, where the tomb of Cardinal d'Amboise stands out the most. Clement VI. is buried in the Celestines' church, whose altar is exceptionally lavish, but what I admired most was the tomb of Madonna Laura, the famous mistress of Petrarch. We also visited the Arsenal, the Pope's palace, and the Jewish Synagogue, where the Jews here are easily recognized by their red hats. From the castle, we could see Vaucluse, well-known for Petrarch's solitude, but we couldn't visit it due to time constraints, as we were getting ready to take mules and a guide to Marseille.
We lay at Loumas; the next morning, came to Aix, having passed that extremely rapid and dangerous river of Durance. In this tract, all the heaths, or commons, are covered with rosemary, lavender, lentiscus, and the like sweet shrubs, for many miles together; which to me was very pleasant. Aix is the chief city of Provence, being a Parliament and Presidential town, with other royal Courts and Metropolitan jurisdiction. It is well[Pg 79] built, the houses very high, and the streets ample. The Cathedral, St. Savior's, is a noble pile adorned with innumerable figures; especially that of St. Michael; the Baptisterie, the Palace, the Court, built in a most spacious piazza, are very fair. The Duke of Guise's house is worth seeing, being furnished with many antiquities in and about it. The Jesuits have here a royal College, and the City is a University.
We stayed in Loumas; the next morning, we arrived in Aix, after crossing the very fast and dangerous river Durance. In this area, all the heaths and commons are covered with rosemary, lavender, lentiscus, and other sweet-smelling shrubs for miles, which I found very pleasant. Aix is the main city of Provence, serving as a Parliament and Presidential town, along with other royal courts and a metropolitan jurisdiction. It is well-built, with very tall houses and wide streets. The Cathedral, St. Savior's, is an impressive structure adorned with countless figures, especially that of St. Michael. The Baptistery, the Palace, and the Court, which is built around a very spacious plaza, are beautiful. The Duke of Guise's house is worth a visit, as it is filled with many antiques. The Jesuits have a royal college here, and the city is also home to a university.
7th October, 1644. We had a most delicious journey to Marseilles, through a country sweetly declining to the south and Mediterranean coasts, full of vineyards and olive-yards, orange trees, myrtles, pomegranates, and the like sweet plantations, to which belong pleasantly-situated villas to the number of above 1,500, built all of freestone, and in prospect showing as if they were so many heaps of snow dropped out of the clouds among those perennial greens. It was almost at the shutting of the gates that we arrived. Marseilles is on the sea-coast, on a pleasant rising ground, well walled, with an excellent port for ships and galleys, secured by a huge chain of iron drawn across the harbor at pleasure; and there is a well-fortified tower with three other forts, especially that built on a rock; but the castle commanding the city is that of Notre Dame de la Garde. In the chapel hung up are divers crocodiles' skins.
7th October, 1644. We had a wonderful journey to Marseilles, traveling through a landscape gently sloping toward the south and the Mediterranean coast, filled with vineyards, olive groves, orange trees, myrtles, pomegranates, and other lovely plantations, accompanied by charming villas numbering over 1,500, all built of freestone, creating a view that looked like heaps of snow scattered among the lush greenery. We arrived just as the gates were about to close. Marseilles is by the sea, situated on a pleasant rise, well fortified, with an excellent port for ships and galleys, protected by a large iron chain that can be drawn across the harbor as needed; there is a well-defended tower along with three other forts, especially one built on a rock; however, the castle that overlooks the city is Notre Dame de la Garde. In the chapel, there are various crocodile skins displayed.
We went then to visit the galleys, being about twenty-five in number; the Capitaine of the Galley Royal gave us most courteous entertainment in his cabin, the slaves in the interim playing both loud and soft music very rarely. Then he showed us how he commanded their motions with a nod, and his whistle making them row out. The spectacle was to me new and strange, to see so many hundreds of miserably naked persons, their heads being shaven close, and having only high red bonnets, a pair of coarse canvas drawers, their whole backs and legs naked, doubly chained about their middle and legs, in couples, and made fast to their seats, and all commanded in a trice by an imperious and cruel seaman. One Turk among the rest he much favored, who waited on him in his cabin, but with no other dress than the rest, and a chain locked about his leg, but not coupled. This galley was richly carved and gilded, and most of the rest were very beautiful. After bestowing[Pg 80] something on the slaves, the capitaine sent a band of them to give us music at dinner where we lodged. I was amazed to contemplate how these miserable caitiffs lie in their galley crowded together; yet there was hardly one but had some occupation, by which, as leisure and calms permitted, they got some little money, insomuch as some of them have, after many years of cruel servitude, been able to purchase their liberty. The rising-forward and falling-back at their oar, is a miserable spectacle, and the noise of their chains, with the roaring of the beaten waters, has something of strange and fearful in it to one unaccustomed to it. They are ruled and chastised by strokes on their backs and soles of their feet, on the least disorder, and without the least humanity, yet are they cheerful and full of knavery.
We then went to visit the galleys, which had about twenty-five of them; the captain of the Galley Royal warmly welcomed us into his cabin, while the slaves played both loud and soft music in the background. He demonstrated how he commanded their movements with a nod, and his whistle made them row out. It was new and strange to me to see so many hundreds of miserable naked people, their heads shaved close, wearing only tall red bonnets and coarse canvas shorts, their backs and legs exposed, chained at their waists and legs in pairs, and secured to their seats, all commanded instantly by an overbearing and cruel sailor. One Turk, in particular, received special attention; he served the captain in his cabin, dressed like the others, but with a chain locked around his leg, not coupled to anyone else. This galley was richly decorated and gilded, and most of the others were quite beautiful. After giving something to the slaves, the captain sent a group of them to play music for us at dinner where we were staying. I was astonished to see how these unfortunate people were crammed together in their galley; yet almost everyone had some kind of task, which allowed them to earn a little money when there was leisure time, so that some of them, after many years of harsh servitude, had managed to buy their freedom. The sight of them pulling their oars back and forth was pitiful, and the sound of their chains combined with the roaring of the waves was strange and frightening to someone unaccustomed to it. They were ruled and punished with blows to their backs and the soles of their feet for the slightest mistake, showing no mercy, yet they remained cheerful and full of mischief.
After dinner, we saw the church of St. Victoire, where is that saint's head in a shrine of silver, which weighs 600 pounds. Thence to Notre Dame, exceedingly well built, which is the cathedral. Thence to the Duke of Guise's Palace, the Palace of Justice, and the Maison du Roi; but nothing is more strange than the great number of slaves working in the streets, and carrying burdens, with their confused noises, and jingling of their huge chains. The chief trade of the town is in silks and drugs out of Africa, Syria, and Egypt, and Barbary horses, which are brought hither in great numbers. The town is governed by four captains, has three consuls, and one assessor, three judges royal; the merchants have a judge for ordinary causes. Here we bought umbrellas against the heats, and consulted of our journey to Cannes by land, for fear of the Picaroon Turks, who make prize of any small vessels about these parts; we not finding a galley bound for Genoa, whither we were designed.
After dinner, we visited the church of St. Victoire, where the head of that saint is kept in a silver shrine that weighs 600 pounds. Next, we went to Notre Dame, which is very well built and is the cathedral. Then we headed to the Duke of Guise's Palace, the Palace of Justice, and the Maison du Roi; however, nothing was more striking than the large number of slaves working in the streets, carrying heavy loads and making chaotic noises, along with the clinking of their heavy chains. The main trade in the town is in silks and drugs from Africa, Syria, and Egypt, as well as Barbary horses, which arrive here in large quantities. The town is run by four captains, has three consuls, and one assessor, along with three royal judges; the merchants have a judge for everyday legal matters. Here, we bought umbrellas to protect ourselves from the heat and discussed our trip to Cannes by land, out of concern for the Picaroon Turks, who capture small vessels in this area; we couldn’t find a galley headed for Genoa, where we intended to go.
9th October, 1644. We took mules, passing the first night very late in sight of St. Baume, and the solitary grot where they affirmed Mary Magdalen did her penance. The next day, we lay at Perigueux, a city built on an old foundation; witness the ruins of a most stately amphitheatre, which I went out to design, being about a flight-shot from the town; they call it now the Rolsies. There is also a strong tower near the town, called the Visone, but the town and city are at some distance[Pg 81] from each other. It is a bishopric; has a cathedral with divers noblemen's houses in sight of the sea. The place was formerly called Forum Julij, well known by antiquaries.
9th October, 1644. We took mules and passed the first night very late in view of St. Baume and the solitary grotto where they said Mary Magdalene did her penance. The next day, we stayed in Perigueux, a city built on an old foundation; you can see the ruins of a grand amphitheater, which I went out to sketch, located about a shot away from the town; they now call it the Rolsies. There’s also a strong tower nearby called the Visone, but the town and city are somewhat far apart from each other. It’s a bishopric and has a cathedral with various noble houses visible from the sea. The place was formerly known as Forum Julij, well recognized by historians.
10th October, 1644. We proceeded by the ruins of a stately aqueduct. The soil about the country is rocky, full of pines and rare simples.
10th October, 1644. We passed by the ruins of a grand aqueduct. The land in this area is rocky, dotted with pines and unusual plants.
11th October, 1644. We lay at Cannes, which is a small port on the Mediterranean; here we agreed with a seaman to carry us to Genoa, and, having procured a bill of health (without which there is no admission at any town in Italy), we embarked on the 12th. We touched at the islands of St. Margaret and St. Honore, lately retaken from the Spaniards with great bravery by Prince Harcourt. Here, having paid some small duty, we bought some trifles offered us by the soldiers, but without going on shore. Hence, we coasted within two leagues of Antibes, which is the utmost town in France. Thence by Nice, a city in Savoy, built all of brick, which gives it a very pleasant appearance toward the sea, having a very high castle which commands it. We sailed by Morgus, now called Monaco, having passed Villa Franca, heretofore Portus Herculis, when, arriving after the gates were shut, we were forced to abide all night in the barge, which was put into the haven, the wind coming contrary. In the morning, we were hastened away, having no time permitted us by our avaricious master to go up and see this strong and considerable place, which now belongs to a prince of the family of Grimaldi, of Genoa, who has put both it and himself under the protection of the French. The situation is on a promontory of solid stone and rock. The town walls very fair. We were told that within it was an ample court, and a palace, furnished with the most rich and princely movables, and a collection of statues, pictures, and massy plate to an immense amount.
October 11th, 1644. We were in Cannes, a small port on the Mediterranean. Here, we made a deal with a sailor to take us to Genoa, and after getting a health certificate (which is necessary for entry into any town in Italy), we boarded on the 12th. We briefly stopped at the islands of St. Margaret and St. Honore, recently retaken from the Spaniards with great bravery by Prince Harcourt. There, we paid a small fee and bought some simple items offered by the soldiers, but we didn’t go ashore. From there, we sailed within two leagues of Antibes, the last town in France. We passed by Nice, a city in Savoy made entirely of brick, which gives it a lovely look by the sea, featuring a tall castle that overlooks the area. We sailed past Morgus, now known as Monaco, after going by Villa Franca, formerly Portus Herculis. Upon arriving after the gates had closed, we had to spend the night on the boat, which was docked in the harbor due to unfavorable winds. In the morning, we were rushed away, with no time allowed by our greedy captain to go see this strong and notable place, which now belongs to a prince from the Grimaldi family of Genoa, who has placed both it and himself under French protection. The location is on a solid stone and rock promontory. The town walls are quite beautiful. We were told that inside, there is a large courtyard and a palace filled with the most luxurious and royal furnishings, along with a huge collection of statues, paintings, and valuable silverware.
We sailed by Menton and Ventimiglia, being the first city of the republic of Genoa; supped at Oneglia, where we anchored and lay on shore. The next morning, we coasted in view of the Isle of Corsica, and St. Remo, where the shore is furnished with evergreens, oranges, citrons, and date trees; we lay at Port Mauritio. The next morning by Diano, Araisso, famous for the best[Pg 82] coral fishing, growing in abundance on the rocks, deep and continually covered by the sea. By Albenga and Finale, a very fair and strong town belonging to the King of Spain, for which reason a monsieur in our vessel was extremely afraid, as was the patron of our bark, for they frequently catch French prizes as they creep by these shores to go into Italy; SAVONAhe therefore plied both sails and oars, to get under the protection of a Genoese galley that passed not far before us, and in whose company we sailed as far as the Cape of Savona, a town built at the rise of the Apennines: for all this coast (except a little of St. Remo) is a high and steep mountainous ground, consisting all of rock-marble, without any grass, tree, or rivage, formidable to look on. A strange object it is, to consider how some poor cottages stand fast on the declivities of these precipices, and by what steps the inhabitants ascend to them. The rock consists of all sorts of the most precious marbles.
We sailed past Menton and Ventimiglia, the first city of the Republic of Genoa; we had dinner at Oneglia, where we anchored and spent the night on shore. The next morning, we traveled along the coast with views of the Isle of Corsica and St. Remo, where the shore is lined with evergreens, orange trees, lemon trees, and date palms; we stayed at Port Mauritio. The next morning, we passed Diano and Araisso, known for its excellent coral fishing, which thrives abundantly on the deep rocks, always submerged by the sea. We also saw Albenga and Finale, a beautiful and strong town that belongs to the King of Spain, which made a gentleman on our ship very anxious, just like the captain of our boat, since they often capture French ships that approach these shores to enter Italy; SAVONA so he worked both sails and oars to get under the protection of a Genoese galley that passed not far ahead of us, and we sailed together as far as the Cape of Savona, a town at the foothills of the Apennines. The whole coast (except for a bit of St. Remo) is steep and mountainous, made entirely of rock and marble, with no grass, trees, or beaches, looking quite daunting. It’s strange to see how some simple cottages cling to the sides of these cliffs and wonder how the residents manage to reach them. The rock is made up of all kinds of precious marbles.
Here, on the 15th, forsaking our galley, we encountered a little foul weather, which made us creep terra, terra, as they call it, and so a vessel that encountered us advised us to do; but our patron, striving to double the point of Savona, making out into the wind put us into great hazard; for blowing very hard from land between those horrid gaps of the mountains, it set so violently, as raised on the sudden so great a sea, that we could not recover the weather-shore for many hours, insomuch that, what with the water already entered, and the confusion of fearful passengers (of which one was an Irish bishop, and his brother, a priest, were confessing some as at the article of death), we were almost abandoned to despair, our pilot himself giving us up for lost. And now, as we were weary with pumping and laving out the water, almost sinking, it pleased God on the sudden to appease the wind, and with much ado and great peril we recovered the shore, which we now kept in view within half a league in sight of those pleasant villas, and within scent of those fragrant orchards which are on this coast, full of princely retirements for the sumptuousness of their buildings, and nobleness of the plantations, especially those at St. Pietro d'Arena; from whence, the wind blowing as it did, might perfectly be smelt the peculiar joys of Italy in the perfumes of orange,[Pg 83] citron, and jasmine flowers, for divers leagues seaward.19
Here, on the 15th, after leaving our ship, we faced some rough weather, which forced us to move cautiously towards the land, as they say, and a boat that passed us suggested we do the same. But our captain, trying to round the point of Savona while facing the wind, put us in great danger. The wind was blowing hard from the land through those terrifying mountain gaps, creating such huge waves unexpectedly that we couldn't get to the safe side of the shore for many hours. With water already coming in and the terrified passengers in chaos (one of whom was an Irish bishop, and his brother, a priest, were hearing confessions as if they were about to die), we were almost resigned to despair, our pilot even giving us up for lost. Just when we were exhausted from trying to pump out the water and were nearly sinking, it pleased God to calm the wind suddenly, and with great difficulty and danger, we finally reached the shore, which we could see just half a league away among those beautiful villas, and we could smell the fragrant orchards along this coast, filled with luxurious retreats due to the elegance of their buildings and the richness of the landscaping, especially those at St. Pietro d'Arena; from there, with the wind blowing as it did, we could distinctly smell the unique delights of Italy from the scents of orange, citron, and jasmine flowers for many leagues out to sea.[Pg 83]
16th October, 1644. We got to anchor under the Pharos, or watch-tower, built on a high rock at the mouth of the Mole of Genoa, the weather being still so foul that for two hours at least we durst not stand into the haven. Toward evening we adventured, and came on shore by the Prattique-house, where, after strict examination by the Syndics, we were had to the Ducal Palace, and there our names being taken, we were conducted to our inn, kept by one Zacharias, an Englishman. I shall never forget a story of our host Zachary, who, on the relation of our peril, told us another of his own, being shipwrecked, as he affirmed solemnly, in the middle of a great sea somewhere in the West Indies, that he swam no less than twenty-two leagues to another island, with a tinderbox wrapped up in his hair, which was not so much as wet all the way; that picking up the carpenter's tools with other provisions in a chest, he and the carpenter, who accompanied him (good swimmers it seems both), floated the chest before them; and, arriving at last in a place full of wood, they built another vessel, and so escaped! After this story, we no more talked of our danger; Zachary put us quite down.
16th October, 1644. We anchored under the Pharos, or watchtower, built on a high rock at the entrance of the Mole of Genoa. The weather was so bad that we dared not enter the harbor for at least two hours. Toward evening, we took a chance and went ashore by the Prattique-house, where, after a thorough examination by the Syndics, we were taken to the Ducal Palace. There, after our names were recorded, we were led to our inn, run by an Englishman named Zacharias. I will always remember a story from our host Zachary, who, after hearing about our peril, shared his own tale of being shipwrecked, as he gravely claimed, in the middle of a vast sea somewhere in the West Indies. He told us he swam no less than twenty-two leagues to reach another island, with a tinderbox tucked away in his hair, which stayed completely dry the entire trip. He said that after finding a chest containing carpenter's tools and other supplies, he and the carpenter who accompanied him—both good swimmers, it seemed—floated the chest ahead of them. Finally, upon arriving at a place rich with wood, they built another vessel and made their escape! After this story, we stopped discussing our danger; Zachary had completely silenced us.
17th October, 1644. Accompanied by a most courteous marchand, called Tomson, we went to view the rarities. The city is built in the hollow or bosom of a mountain, whose ascent is very steep, high, and rocky, so that, from the Lantern and Mole to the hill, it represents the shape of a theater; the streets and buildings so ranged one above another, as our seats are in the playhouses; but, from their materials, beauty, and structure, never was an artificial scene more beautiful to the eye, nor is any place, for the size of it, so full of well-designed and stately palaces, as may be easily concluded by that rare book in a large folio which the great virtuoso and painter, Paul Rubens, has published, though it contains [the description of] only one street and two or three churches.
17th October, 1644. Accompanied by a very polite merchant named Tomson, we went to see the wonders. The city is built in the hollow or at the base of a mountain, which is very steep, high, and rocky, so that from the Lantern and Mole to the hill, it looks like a theater; the streets and buildings are arranged one above the other, similar to the seating in theaters. However, from their materials, beauty, and structure, there has never been a more beautiful artificial scene to behold, nor is there any place, for its size, so filled with well-designed and impressive palaces, as can be easily concluded by that rare large folio book published by the great collector and painter, Paul Rubens, even though it only describes one street and two or three churches.
The first palace we went to visit was that of Hieronymo del Negros, to which we passed by boat across the har[Pg 84]bor. Here I could not but observe the sudden and devilish passion of a seaman, who plying us was intercepted by another fellow, that interposed his boat before him and took us in; for the tears gushing out of his eyes, he put his finger in his mouth and almost bit it off by the joint, showing it to his antagonist as an assurance to him of some bloody revenge, if ever he came near that part of the harbor again. Indeed this beautiful city is more stained with such horrid acts of revenge and murders, than any one place in Europe, or haply in the world, where there is a political government, which makes it unsafe to strangers. It is made a galley matter to carry a knife whose point is not broken off.
The first palace we visited was that of Hieronymo del Negros, which we reached by boat across the har[Pg 84]bor. Here, I couldn't help but notice the intense and violent rage of a seaman, who was interrupted by another guy that blocked his way with his boat and took us instead. With tears streaming down his face, he bit his finger almost off at the joint, showing it to his rival as a promise of some bloody revenge if he ever came back to that part of the harbor. Indeed, this beautiful city has more horrendous acts of revenge and murders than any other place in Europe or possibly the world, where there is a political government, making it unsafe for outsiders. It's a serious offense to carry a knife that doesn’t have its tip broken off.
This palace of Negros is richly furnished with the rarest pictures; on the terrace, or hilly garden, there is a grove of stately trees, among which are sheep, shepherds, and wild beasts, cut very artificially in a gray stone; fountains, rocks, and fish ponds; casting your eyes one way, you would imagine yourself in a wilderness and silent country; sideways, in the heart of a great city; and backward, in the midst of the sea. All this is within one acre of ground. In the house, I noticed those red-plaster floors which are made so hard, and kept so polished, that for some time one would take them for whole pieces of porphyry. I have frequently wondered that we never practiced this [art] in England for cabinets and rooms of state, for it appears to me beyond any invention of that kind; but by their carefully covering them with canvass and fine mattresses, where there is much passage, I suppose they are not lasting there in glory, and haply they are often repaired.
This palace of Negros is filled with the rarest artwork; on the terrace or landscaped garden, there's a grove of tall trees, among which are sheep, shepherds, and wild animals, intricately carved from gray stone; there are fountains, rocks, and fish ponds; if you look one way, you’d think you were in a quiet wilderness; sideways, in the heart of a bustling city; and behind you, in the middle of the sea. All of this fits within just one acre of land. Inside the house, I noticed the red-plaster floors that are so well-made and polished that at first glance, you might think they’re solid pieces of porphyry. I've often wondered why we don't use this technique in England for cabinets and formal rooms, as it seems superior to any similar invention; but given that they carefully cover these floors with canvas and fine mats in high-traffic areas, I assume they don’t maintain their glory for long and likely require frequent repairs.
There are numerous other palaces of particular curiosities, for the marchands being very rich, have, like our neighbors, the Hollanders, little or no extent of ground to employ their estates in; as those in pictures and hangings, so these lay it out on marble houses and rich furniture. One of the greatest here for circuit is that of the Prince Doria, which reaches from the sea to the summit of the mountains. The house is most magnificently built without, nor less gloriously furnished within, having whole tables and bedsteads of massy silver, many of them set with agates, onyxes, cornelians, lazulis, pearls, torquoises, and other precious stones. The pictures and statues are[Pg 85] innumerable. To this palace belong three gardens, the first whereof is beautified with a terrace, supported by pillars of marble; there is a fountain of eagles, and one of Neptune, with other sea-gods, all of the purest white marble; they stand in a most ample basin of the same stone. At the side of this garden is such an aviary as Sir Francis Bacon describes in his "Sermones Fidelium," or "Essays," wherein grow trees of more than two feet diameter, besides cypress, myrtles, lentiscuses, and other rare shrubs, which serve to nestle and perch all sorts of birds, who have air and place enough under their airy canopy, supported with huge iron work, stupendous for its fabric and the charge. The other two gardens are full of orange trees, citrons, and pomegranates, fountains, grots, and statues. One of the latter is a colossal Jupiter, under which is the sepulchre of a beloved dog, for the care of which one of this family received of the King of Spain 500 crowns a year, during the life of that faithful animal. The reservoir of water here is a most admirable piece of art; and so is the grotto over against it.
There are many other palaces filled with unique curiosities, as the wealthy merchants, like our neighbors the Dutch, have little or no land to invest their wealth in; so instead of using it for gardens and fields, they invest in marble houses and luxurious furniture. One of the largest here is the Prince Doria's palace, which stretches from the sea to the mountain peaks. The exterior of the house is magnificently constructed, and the interior is equally grand, featuring entire tables and bed frames made of solid silver, many adorned with agates, onyxes, carnelians, lapis lazuli, pearls, turquoises, and other precious stones. There are countless paintings and statues.[Pg 85] This palace includes three gardens; the first has a terrace supported by marble pillars, with fountains of eagles and Neptune along with other sea gods, all crafted from the purest white marble, standing in a large basin made of the same stone. Beside this garden is an aviary like the one Sir Francis Bacon describes in his "Sermones Fidelium" or "Essays," where trees with trunks over two feet in diameter grow alongside cypress, myrtles, lentiscuses, and other rare shrubs that provide nesting and perching spots for all kinds of birds, who enjoy plenty of space under a vast canopy supported by impressive ironwork, remarkable for its design and expense. The other two gardens are filled with orange trees, citrons, and pomegranates, as well as fountains, grottos, and statues. One of the statues is a colossal Jupiter, under which lies the grave of a cherished dog, for which one member of this family received 500 crowns a year from the King of Spain for the faithful animal's lifetime. The water reservoir here is an extraordinary work of art, as is the grotto opposite it.
We went hence to the Palace of the Dukes, where is also the Court of Justice; thence to the Merchant's Walk, rarely covered. Near the Ducal Palace we saw the public armory, which was almost all new, most neatly kept and ordered, sufficient for 30,000 men. We were showed many rare inventions and engines of war peculiar to that armory, as in the state when guns were first put in use. The garrison of the town chiefly consists of Germans and Corsicans. The famous Strada Nova, built wholly of polished marble, was designed by Rubens, and for stateliness of the buildings, paving, and evenness of the street, is far superior to any in Europe, for the number of houses; that of Don Carlo Doria is a most magnificent structure. In the gardens of the old Marquis Spinola, I saw huge citrons hanging on the trees, applied like our apricots to the walls. The churches are no less splendid than the palaces; that of St. Francis is wholly built of Parian marble; St. Laurence, in the middle of the city, of white and black polished stone, the inside wholly incrusted with marble and other precious materials; on the altar of St. John stand four sumptuous columns of porphyry; and here we were showed an emerald, supposed to be one of the largest in the world. The church of St.[Pg 86] Ambrosio, belonging to the Jesuits, will, when finished, exceed all the rest; and that of the Annunciada, founded at the charges of one family, in the present and future design can never be outdone for cost and art. From the churches we walked to the Mole, a work of solid huge stone, stretching itself near 600 paces into the main sea, and secures the harbor, heretofore of no safety. Of all the wonders of Italy, for the art and nature of the design, nothing parallels this. We passed over to the Pharos, or Lantern, a tower of very great height. Here we took horses, and made the circuit of the city as far as the new walls, built of a prodigious height, and with Herculean industry; witness those vast pieces of whole mountains which they have hewn away, and blown up with gunpowder, to render them steep and inaccessible. They are not much less than twenty English miles in extent, reaching beyond the utmost buildings of the city. From one of these promontories we could easily discern the island of Corsica; and from the same, eastward, we saw a vale having a great torrent running through a most desolate barren country; and then turning our eyes more northward, saw those delicious villas of St. Pietro d'Arena, which present another Genoa to you, the ravishing retirements of the Genoese nobility. Hence, with much pain, we descended toward the Arsenal, where the galleys lie in excellent order.
We then went to the Palace of the Dukes, which also houses the Court of Justice; from there we proceeded to the Merchant's Walk, which is rarely covered. Close to the Ducal Palace, we saw the public armory, almost completely new, very well maintained and organized, enough for 30,000 soldiers. We were shown many unique inventions and war machines specific to that armory, reflecting the state when guns were first introduced. The town's garrison is mainly made up of Germans and Corsicans. The famous Strada Nova, entirely made of polished marble, was designed by Rubens, and for the grandeur of the buildings, paving, and smoothness of the street, it surpasses any in Europe, considering the number of houses; Don Carlo Doria's is a truly magnificent structure. In the gardens of the old Marquis Spinola, I saw huge citrons hanging from the trees, placed against the walls like our apricots. The churches are just as splendid as the palaces; St. Francis' church is entirely made of Parian marble; St. Laurence, located in the center of the city, is constructed of white and black polished stone, with its interior completely adorned with marble and other precious materials; on the altar of St. John stand four lavish columns of porphyry; and here we were shown an emerald, believed to be one of the largest in the world. The church of St. Ambrosio, belonging to the Jesuits, will, when completed, surpass all the others; and the church of the Annunciada, funded by one family, will never be outdone for cost and art, both now and in the future. From the churches, we walked to the Mole, a solid stone structure that stretches nearly 600 paces into the sea, securing the harbor, which used to be very unsafe. Among all the wonders of Italy, in terms of art and design, nothing compares to this. We crossed over to the Pharos, or Lantern, a very tall tower. Here we got on horses and made our way around the city up to the new walls, built to an astonishing height through Herculean efforts; just look at those massive sections of whole mountains that they have hewn away and blasted with gunpowder to make them steep and inaccessible. They extend for almost twenty English miles, reaching beyond the farthest buildings of the city. From one of these promontories, we could easily spot the island of Corsica; looking eastward, we saw a valley with a large torrent flowing through an extremely barren landscape; and then turning our gaze more northward, we saw the charming villas of St. Pietro d'Arena, which give you another view of Genoa, the delightful retreats of the Genoese nobility. From there, we reluctantly descended toward the Arsenal, where the galleys are kept in excellent order.
The inhabitants of the city are much affected to the Spanish mode and stately garb. From the narrowness of the streets, they use sedans and litters, and not coaches.
The people of the city are greatly influenced by Spanish styles and formal clothing. Because the streets are so narrow, they use sedans and litters instead of coaches.
19th October, 1644. We embarked in a felucca for Livorno, or Leghorn; but the sea running very high, we put in at Porto Venere, which we made with peril, between two narrow horrid rocks, against which the sea dashed with great velocity; but we were soon delivered into as great a calm and a most ample harbor, being in the Golfo di Spetia. From hence, we could see Pliny's Delphini Promontorium, now called Capo fino. Here stood that famous city of Luna, whence the port was named Lunaris, being about two leagues over, more resembling a lake than a haven, but defended by castles and excessive high mountains. We landed at Lerici, where, being Sunday, was a great procession, carrying the Sacrament about the streets in solemn devotion. After dinner we[Pg 87] took post-horses, passing through whole groves of olive trees, the way somewhat rugged and hilly at first, but afterward pleasant. Thus we passed through the towns of Sarzana and Massa, and the vast marble quarries of Carrara, and lodged in an obscure inn, at a place called Viregio. The next morning we arrived at Pisa, where I met my old friend, Mr. Thomas Henshaw, who was then newly come out of Spain, and from whose company I never parted till more than a year after.
19th October, 1644. We set off in a small boat for Livorno, or Leghorn; but since the sea was very rough, we stopped at Porto Venere, which we reached with difficulty, navigating between two narrow, jagged rocks that the waves crashed against with great force. However, we quickly found ourselves in a much calmer and spacious harbor, located in the Golfo di Spetia. From there, we could see Pliny's Delphini Promontorium, now known as Capo fino. This was the site of the famous city of Luna, which gave its name to the port, Lunaris, about two leagues wide and more like a lake than a harbor, but protected by castles and towering mountains. We landed at Lerici, where, since it was Sunday, there was a grand procession carrying the Sacrament through the streets in solemn devotion. After lunch, we[Pg 87] took post-horses, riding through entire groves of olive trees; the path was a bit rough and hilly at first, but then it became pleasant. Thus, we passed through the towns of Sarzana and Massa, and the vast marble quarries of Carrara, finally staying in a small inn at a place called Viregio. The next morning, we reached Pisa, where I reunited with my old friend, Mr. Thomas Henshaw, who had just come back from Spain, and I didn't part ways with him until more than a year later.
The city of Pisa is as much worth seeing as any in Italy; it has contended with Rome, Florence, Sardinia, Sicily, and even Carthage. The palace and church of St. Stefano (where the order of knighthood called by that name was instituted) drew first our curiosity, the outside thereof being altogether of polished marble; within, it is full of tables relating to this Order; over which hang divers banners and pendants, with other trophies taken by them from the Turks, against whom they are particularly obliged to fight; though a religious order, they are permitted to marry. At the front of the palace stands a fountain, and the statue of the great Duke Cosmo. The Campanile, or Settezonio, built by John Venipont, a German, consists of several orders of pillars, thirty in a row, designed to be much higher. It stands alone on the right side of the cathedral, strangely remarkable for this, that the beholder would expect it to fall, being built exceedingly declining, by a rare address of the architect; and how it is supported from falling I think would puzzle a good geometrician. The Duomo, or Cathedral, standing near it, is a superb structure, beautified with six columns of great antiquity; the gates are of brass, of admirable workmanship. The cemetery called Campo Santo is made of divers galley ladings of earth formerly brought from Jerusalem, said to be of such a nature, as to consume dead bodies in forty hours. 'Tis cloistered with marble arches; and here lies buried the learned Philip Decius, who taught in this University. At one side of this church stands an ample and well-wrought marble vessel, which heretofore contained the tribute paid yearly by the city to Cæsar. It is placed, as I remember, on a pillar of opal stone, with divers other antique urns. Near this, and in the same field, is the Baptistery of San Giovanni, built of pure white marble, and covered with so artificial[Pg 88] a cupola, that the voice uttered under it seems to break out of a cloud. The font and pulpit, supported by four lions, is of inestimable value for the preciousness of the materials. The place where these buildings stand they call the Area. Hence, we went to the College, to which joins a gallery so furnished with natural rarities, stones, minerals, shells, dried animals, skeletons, etc., as is hardly to be seen in Italy. To this the Physic Garden lies, where is a noble palm tree, and very fine waterworks. The river Arno runs through the middle of this stately city, whence the main street is named Lung 'Arno. It is so ample that the Duke's galleys, built in the arsenal here, are easily conveyed to Livorno; over the river is an arch, the like of which, for its flatness, and serving for a bridge, is nowhere in Europe. The Duke has a stately Palace, before which is placed the statue of Ferdinand the Third; over against it is the Exchange, built of marble. Since this city came to be under the Dukes of Tuscany, it has been much depopulated, though there is hardly in Italy any which exceeds it for stately edifices. The situation of it is low and flat; but the inhabitants have spacious gardens, and even fields within the walls.
The city of Pisa is as worth visiting as any in Italy; it has competed with Rome, Florence, Sardinia, Sicily, and even Carthage. The palace and church of St. Stefano (where the knighthood order of that name was established) first piqued our interest, its exterior made entirely of polished marble. Inside, it is filled with displays related to this Order, adorned with various banners and trophies taken from the Turks, whom they are especially obliged to fight; although a religious order, members are allowed to marry. In front of the palace, there is a fountain and a statue of the great Duke Cosmo. The Campanile, or Settezonio, built by John Venipont, a German, features several orders of pillars, with thirty in a row, originally designed to be much taller. It stands alone to the right of the cathedral, uniquely remarkable because it appears as if it might topple over, built at a distinctive angle by the architect; understanding how it stays upright would likely confuse a skilled mathematician. The Duomo, or Cathedral, located nearby, is an impressive structure enhanced by six ancient columns, with beautifully crafted brass gates. The cemetery known as Campo Santo is made from different shipments of earth brought over from Jerusalem, said to be capable of decomposing bodies within forty hours. It is surrounded by marble arches, and here lies the learned Philip Decius, who taught at this University. Beside this church, there is a large and finely crafted marble vessel that once held the annual tribute paid by the city to Cæsar. If I recall correctly, it stands on an opal stone pillar, along with several other ancient urns. Close to this, in the same area, is the Baptistery of San Giovanni, made of pure white marble and topped with such an intricate dome that a voice spoken beneath it seems to come from the clouds. The font and pulpit, supported by four lions, are invaluable due to the quality of the materials. The area where these buildings are located is called the Zone. From there, we went to the College, which features a gallery filled with natural curiosities, stones, minerals, shells, dried animals, skeletons, and more—something rarely seen in Italy. Adjacent to it is the Physic Garden, home to a splendid palm tree and beautiful waterworks. The river Arno flows through the center of this grand city, which gave its main street the name Lung 'Arno. It’s so wide that the Duke's galleys, built in the local arsenal, can easily be transported to Livorno; there is an arch over the river, unique for its flatness and functioning as a bridge, unlike anything else in Europe. The Duke has an impressive Palace, in front of which stands a statue of Ferdinand the Third; opposite it is the Exchange, built from marble. Since this city came under the Dukes of Tuscany, it has experienced significant depopulation, although few in Italy compare to it in terms of grand buildings. The city’s layout is low and flat, but the residents enjoy spacious gardens and even fields within the walls.
21st October, 1644. We took coach to Livorno, through the Great Duke's new park full of huge cork trees, the underwood all myrtles, among which were many buffaloes feeding, a kind of wild ox, short nose with horns reversed; those who work with them command them, as our bearwards do the bears, with a ring through the nose, and a cord. Much of this park, as well as a great part of the country about it, is very fenny, and the air very bad.
21st October, 1644. We took a coach to Livorno, passing through the Great Duke's new park, which was filled with massive cork trees and underbrush of myrtles. Among them were many buffaloes grazing, a type of wild ox with a short nose and backward-curving horns; those who handle them control them, like our bear trainers do with bears, using a ring through the nose and a cord. A lot of this park, as well as much of the surrounding countryside, is quite marshy, and the air is not good.
Leghorn is the prime port belonging to all the Duke's territories; heretofore a very obscure town, but since Duke Ferdinand has strongly fortified it (after the modern way), drained the marshes by cutting a channel thence to Pisa navigable sixteen miles, and has raised a Mole, emulating that at Genoa, to secure the shipping, it is become a place of great receipt; it has also a place for the galleys, where they lie safe. Before the sea is an ample piazza for the market, where are the statues in copper of the four slaves, much exceeding the life for proportion, and, in the judgment of most artists, one of the best pieces of modern work. Here, especially in this[Pg 89] piazza, is such a concourse of slaves, Turks, Moors, and other nations, that the number and confusion is prodigious; some buying, others selling, others drinking, others playing, some working, others sleeping, fighting, singing, weeping, all nearly naked, and miserably chained. Here was a tent, where any idle fellow might stake his liberty against a few crowns, at dice, or other hazard; and, if he lost, he was immediately chained and led away to the galleys, where he was to serve a term of years, but from whence they seldom returned; many sottish persons, in a drunken bravado, would try their fortune in this way.
Leghorn is the main port for all the Duke's territories; it used to be a very obscure town, but since Duke Ferdinand has heavily fortified it (in a modern style), drained the marshes by creating a channel to Pisa that's navigable for sixteen miles, and built a Mole similar to the one in Genoa to protect shipping, it has become a major hub. It also has a place for galleys, where they’re kept safe. In front of the sea is a large piazza for the market, featuring copper statues of four slaves that are much larger than life and, according to many artists, one of the best examples of modern craftsmanship. Here, especially in this[Pg 89] piazza, there’s such a mix of slaves, Turks, Moors, and people from various nations that the sheer number and chaos are astonishing; some are buying, others selling, some drinking, others playing, some working, others sleeping, fighting, singing, weeping, all nearly naked and terribly chained. There was a tent where any idle person could gamble their freedom against a few crowns on dice or other games of chance; if they lost, they were immediately chained and taken away to the galleys, where they would have to serve for a number of years, but they rarely returned; many foolishly drunk individuals would try their luck this way.
The houses of this neat town are very uniform, and excellently painted á fresco on the outer walls, with representations of many of their victories over the Turks. The houses, though low on account of the earthquakes which frequently happen here, (as did one during my being in Italy), are very well built; the piazza is very fair and commodious, and, with the church, whose four columns at the portico are of black marble polished, gave the first hint to the building both of the church and piazza in Covent Garden with us, though very imperfectly pursued.
The houses in this tidy town are quite similar and are beautifully painted on the outside, showcasing many of their victories over the Turks. The buildings are low because of the frequent earthquakes here (one even occurred while I was in Italy), but they are well-constructed. The piazza is lovely and spacious, and along with the church—which has four polished black marble columns at its entrance—was the initial inspiration for the church and piazza in Covent Garden back home, though it was not executed as well.
22d October, 1644. From Livorno, I took coach to Empoly, where we lay, and the next day arrived at Florence, being recommended to the house of Signor Baritiére, in the Piazza del Spirito Santo, where we were exceedingly well treated. Florence is at the foot of the Apennines, the west part full of stately groves and pleasant meadows, beautified with more than a thousand houses and country palaces of note, belonging to gentlemen of the town. The river Arno runs through the city, in a broad, but very shallow channel, dividing it, as it were, in the middle, and over it are four most sumptuous bridges of stone. On that nearest to our quarter are the four Seasons, in white marble; on another are the goldsmiths' shops; at the head of the former stands a column of ophite, upon which a statue of Justice, with her balance and sword, cut out of porphyry, and the more remarkable for being the first which had been carved out of that hard material, and brought to perfection, after the art had been utterly lost; they say this was done by hardening the tools in the juice of certain[Pg 90] herbs. This statue was erected in that corner, because there Cosmo was first saluted with the news of Sienna being taken.
22nd October, 1644. From Livorno, I took a coach to Empoly, where we stayed, and the next day we arrived in Florence, having been recommended to the house of Signor Baritiére in the Piazza del Spirito Santo, where we were treated extremely well. Florence is located at the base of the Apennines, with the western part full of grand groves and pleasant meadows, decorated with over a thousand notable houses and country villas owned by local gentlemen. The river Arno flows through the city in a wide but very shallow channel, essentially dividing it in half. There are four magnificent stone bridges over it. On the closest bridge to our area are the four Seasons, made of white marble; on another bridge, you'll find the goldsmiths' shops; at the end of the first bridge stands a column of ophite, topped with a statue of Justice, holding her balance and sword, carved from porphyry. This statue is particularly notable as it was the first sculpted from that tough material and completed after the art had been lost; they say the process involved hardening the tools in the juice of certain herbs. This statue was placed in that spot because it was where Cosmo first received the news of Siena's capture.
Near this is the famous Palazzo di Strozzi, a princely piece of architecture, in a rustic manner. The Palace of Pitti was built by that family, but of late greatly beautified by Cosmo with huge square stones of the Doric, Ionic, and the Corinthian orders, with a terrace at each side having rustic uncut balustrades, with a fountain that ends in a cascade seen from the great gate, and so forming a vista to the gardens. Nothing is more admirable than the vacant staircase, marbles, statues, urns, pictures, court, grotto, and waterworks. In the quadrangle is a huge jetto of water in a volto of four faces, with noble statues at each square, especially the Diana of porphyry above the grotto. We were here shown a prodigious great loadstone.
Nearby is the well-known Palazzo di Strozzi, a stunning example of architecture with a rustic style. The Pitti Palace was built by that family but has recently been greatly enhanced by Cosmo with large square stones from the Doric, Ionic, and Corinthian styles. It features terraces on both sides with rustic uncut balustrades, plus a fountain that flows into a cascade visible from the main gate, creating a beautiful view of the gardens. Nothing is more impressive than the open staircase, marbles, statues, urns, paintings, courtyard, grotto, and water features. In the courtyard, there is a massive jet of water coming from a fountain with four faces, accompanied by impressive statues at each corner, especially the Diana made of porphyry above the grotto. Here, we were also shown a gigantic lodestone.
The garden has every variety, hills, dales, rocks, groves, aviaries, vivaries, fountains, especially one of five jettos, the middle basin being one of the longest stones I ever saw. Here is everything to make such a Paradise delightful. In the garden I saw a rose grafted on an orange tree. There was much topiary-work, and columns in architecture about the hedges. The Duke has added an ample laboratory, over against which stands a fort on a hill, where they told us his treasure is kept. In this Palace the Duke ordinarily resides, living with his Swiss guards, after the frugal Italian way, and even selling what he can spare of his wines, at the cellar under his very house, wicker bottles dangling over even the chief entrance into the palace, serving for a vintner's bush.
The garden has every kind of plant, hills, valleys, rocks, groves, aviaries, vivaries, and fountains, especially one with five jets, with the middle basin being one of the longest stones I've ever seen. There's everything to make this Paradise delightful. In the garden, I saw a rose grafted onto an orange tree. There was a lot of topiary work and columns in different architectural styles around the hedges. The Duke has added a large laboratory, across from which stands a fort on a hill, where they say his treasure is kept. In this palace, the Duke usually lives, sharing his space with his Swiss guards, following a simple Italian lifestyle, even selling what he can spare from his wines in the cellar right below his house, with wicker bottles hanging over the main entrance into the palace, used as a vintner's bush.
In the Church of Santo Spirito the altar and reliquary are most rich, and full of precious stones; there are four pillars of a kind of serpentine, and some of blue. Hence we went to another Palace of the Duke's, called Palazzo Vecchio, before which is a statue of David, by Michael Angelo, and one of Hercules, killing Cacus, the work of Baccio Bandinelli. The quadrangle about this is of the Corinthian order, and in the hall are many rare marbles, as those of Leo X. and Clement VII., both Popes of the Medicean family; also the acts of Cosmo, in rare painting. In the chapel is kept (as they would make one believe) the original Gospel of St. John, written with his[Pg 91] own hand; and the famous Florentine Pandects, and divers precious stones. Near it is another pendent Tower like that of Pisa, always threatening ruin.
In the Church of Santo Spirito, the altar and reliquary are quite impressive, adorned with precious stones. There are four pillars made of a type of serpentine stone, along with some of blue. After that, we visited another of the Duke's Palaces, called Palazzo Vecchio, which features a statue of David by Michelangelo and one of Hercules slaying Cacus, created by Baccio Bandinelli. The courtyard is designed in the Corinthian style, and the hall is filled with many rare marbles, including those of Leo X. and Clement VII., both Popes from the Medici family; it also displays the acts of Cosimo in exquisite paintings. In the chapel, they claim to preserve the original Gospel of St. John, written in his own hand; along with the famous Florentine Pandects and various precious stones. Nearby stands another leaning tower similar to Pisa's, which always seems on the verge of collapse.
Under the Court of Justice is a stately arcade for men to walk in, and over that, the shops of divers rare artists who continually work for the great Duke. Above this is that renowned Ceimeliarcha, or repository, wherein are hundreds of admirable antiquities, statues of marble and metal, vases of porphyry, etc.; but among the statues none so famous as the Scipio, the Boar, the Idol of Apollo, brought from the Delphic Temple, and two triumphant columns. Over these hang the pictures of the most famous persons and illustrious men in arts or arms, to the number of 300, taken out of the museum of Paulus Jovius. They then led us into a large square room, in the middle of which stood a cabinet of an octangular form, so adorned and furnished with crystals, agates, and sculptures, as exceeds any description. This cabinet is called the Tribuna and in it is a pearl as big as an hazelnut. The cabinet is of ebony, lazuli, and jasper; over the door is a round of M. Angelo; on the cabinet, Leo X. with other paintings of Raphael, del Sarto, Perugino, and Correggio, viz, a St. John, a Virgin, a Boy, two Apostles, two heads of Durer, rarely carved. Over this cabinet is a globe of ivory, excellently carved; the Labors of Hercules, in massy silver, and many incomparable pictures in small. There is another, which had about it eight Oriental columns of alabaster, on each whereof was placed a head of a Cæsar, covered with a canopy so richly set with precious stones, that they resembled a firmament of stars. Within it was our Savior's Passion, and the twelve Apostles in amber. This cabinet was valued at two hundred thousand crowns. In another, with calcedon pillars, was a series of golden medals. Here is also another rich ebony cabinet cupolaed with a tortoise shell, and containing a collection of gold medals esteemed worth 50,000 crowns; a wreathed pillar of Oriental alabaster, divers paintings of Da Vinci, Pontorno, del Sarto, an Ecce Homo of Titian, a Boy of Bronzini, etc. They showed us a branch of coral fixed on the rock, which they affirm does still grow. In another room, is kept the Tabernacle appointed for the chapel of St. Laurence, about which are placed small statues of Saints, of precious[Pg 92] material; a piece of such art and cost, that having been these forty years in perfecting, it is one of the most curious things in the world. Here were divers tables of Pietra Commesso, which is a marble ground inlaid with several sorts of marbles and stones of various colors representing flowers, trees, beasts, birds, and landscapes. In one is represented the town of Leghorn, by the same hand who inlaid the altar of St. Laurence, Domenico Benotti, of whom I purchased nineteen pieces of the same work for a cabinet. In a press near this they showed an iron nail, one half whereof being converted into gold by one Thurnheuser, a German chemist, is looked on as a great rarity; but it plainly appeared to have been soldered together. There is a curious watch, a monstrous turquoise as big as an egg, on which is carved an emperor's head.
Below the Court of Justice, there's a grand arcade for men to stroll in, and above that, shops of various talented artists who continually create for the great Duke. Above this is the famous Ceimeliarcha, or repository, which houses hundreds of amazing antiques, statues made of marble and metal, vases made of porphyry, etc.; yet among the statues, none are as famous as the Scipio, the Boar, the Idol of Apollo, brought from the Delphic Temple, and two triumphant columns. Above these hang portraits of the most renowned individuals and notable figures in arts or warfare, totaling 300, taken from the museum of Paulus Jovius. They then led us into a large square room, where an octagonal cabinet stood in the middle, adorned and furnished with crystals, agates, and sculptures far beyond any description. This cabinet is called the Tribuna and contains a pearl the size of a hazelnut. The cabinet is made of ebony, lazuli, and jasper; over the door hangs a round painting by M. Angelo; on the cabinet itself, there’s Leo X. along with other works by Raphael, del Sarto, Perugino, and Correggio, including a St. John, a Virgin, a Boy, two Apostles, and two intricately carved heads by Durer. Above this cabinet, there's an exquisitely carved ivory globe, the Labors of Hercules in solid silver, and many unparalleled small paintings. There's another cabinet surrounded by eight Oriental alabaster columns, each topped with a head of a Cæsar, covered by a canopy so lavishly adorned with precious stones that it looks like a starry sky. Inside were depictions of our Savior's Passion and the twelve Apostles in amber. This cabinet was valued at two hundred thousand crowns. In another cabinet, with chalcedony pillars, there was a collection of golden medals. Additionally, there's another extravagant ebony cabinet topped with tortoiseshell, containing a collection of gold medals worth 50,000 crowns; a twisted pillar of Oriental alabaster, and various paintings by Da Vinci, Pontorno, del Sarto, an Ecce Homo by Titian, a Boy by Bronzini, etc. They showed us a branch of coral attached to the rock, which they claim still grows. In another room, there's the Tabernacle intended for the chapel of St. Laurence, surrounded by small statues of Saints made from precious materials; a piece so intricate and costly that it took forty years to complete, making it one of the most remarkable things in the world. There were various tables made of Pietra Commesso, which is marble inlaid with different types of marbles and stones of various colors, depicting flowers, trees, animals, birds, and landscapes. One piece shows the town of Leghorn, created by the same artist who inlaid the altar of St. Laurence, Domenico Benotti, from whom I purchased nineteen pieces of the same work for a cabinet. In a nearby cupboard, they showed us an iron nail, half of which had been turned into gold by a German chemist named Thurnheuser, regarded as quite a rarity; but it was evident that it had been soldered together. There was also a remarkable watch and a massive turquoise the size of an egg, carved with an emperor's head.
In the armory are kept many antique habits, as those of Chinese kings; the sword of Charlemagne; Hannibal's headpiece; a loadstone of a yard long, which bears up 86 lbs. weight, in a chain of seventeen links, such as the slaves are tied to. In another room are such rare turneries in ivory, as are not to be described for their curiosity. There is a fair pillar of oriental alabaster; twelve vast and complete services of silver plate, and one of gold, all of excellent workmanship; a rich embroidered saddle of pearls sent by the Emperor to this Duke; and here is that embroidered chair set with precious stones in which he sits, when, on St. John's day, he receives the tribute of the cities.
In the armory, there are many ancient items, like those from Chinese kings; Charlemagne's sword; Hannibal's helmet; a yard-long lodestone that can lift 86 lbs, attached to a chain with seventeen links, similar to those used to restrain slaves. In another room, there are some rare ivory carvings that are too unique to fully describe. There's a beautiful pillar made of oriental alabaster; twelve extensive and complete sets of silver tableware, and one set made of gold, all crafted with exceptional skill; a luxurious embroidered saddle decorated with pearls sent by the Emperor to this Duke; and here is that embroidered chair adorned with precious stones where he sits to receive tribute from the cities on St. John's Day.
25th October, 1644. We went to the Portico where the famous statue of Judith and Holofernes stands, also the Medusa, all of copper; but what is most admirable is the Rape of a Sabine, with another man under foot, the confusion and turning of whose limbs is most admirable. It is of one entire marble, the work of John di Bologna, and is most stupendous; this stands directly against the great piazza, where, to adorn one fountain, are erected four marble statues and eight of brass, representing Neptune and his family of sea gods, of a Colossean magnitude, with four sea horses, in Parian marble of Lamedrati, in the midst of a very great basin: a work, I think, hardly to be paralleled. Here is also the famous statue of David, by M. Angelo; Hercules and Cacus, by Baccio Bandinelli; the Perseus, in copper, by Benevento,[Pg 93] and the Judith of Donatelli, which stand publicly before the old Palace with the Centaur of Bologna, huge Colossean figures. Near this stand Cosmo di Medicis on horseback, in brass on a pedestal of marble, and four copper bassorelievos by John di Bologna, with divers inscriptions; the Ferdinand the First, on horseback, is of Pietro Tacca. The brazen boar, which serves for another public fountain, is admirable.
25th October, 1644. We visited the Portico, where the famous statue of Judith and Holofernes is located, along with the Medusa, both made of copper. But the most impressive is the Rape of a Sabine, featuring another man underneath, with a remarkable twisting of limbs. It's carved from a single piece of marble and created by John di Bologna, and it’s truly breathtaking; it stands directly across from the large piazza, where four marble statues and eight bronze ones are set up to decorate a fountain, depicting Neptune and his family of sea gods, all in enormous sizes, alongside four sea horses made of Parian marble by Lamedrati, in the middle of a vast basin—a work that I believe is hardly rivaled. There’s also the famous statue of David by Michelangelo; Hercules and Cacus by Baccio Bandinelli; the copper Perseus by Benevento, and Donatelli’s Judith, all displayed publicly in front of the old Palace along with the Centaur by Bologna, which are huge Colossean figures. Nearby stands Cosimo di Medici on horseback, cast in brass on a marble pedestal, along with four copper bas-reliefs by John di Bologna, featuring various inscriptions; Ferdinand the First, also on horseback, is by Pietro Tacca. The bronze boar, which serves as another public fountain, is impressive.
After dinner, we went to the Church of the Annunciata, where the Duke and his Court were at their devotions, being a place of extraordinary repute for sanctity: for here is a shrine that does great miracles, [proved] by innumerable votive tablets, etc., covering almost the walls of the whole church. This is the image of Gabriel, who saluted the Blessed Virgin, and which the artist finished so well, that he was in despair of performing the Virgin's face so well; whereupon it was miraculously done for him while he slept; but others say it was painted by St. Luke himself. Whoever it was, infinite is the devotion of both sexes to it. The altar is set off with four columns of oriental alabaster, and lighted by thirty great silver lamps. There are innumerable other pictures by rare masters. Our Savior's Passion in brass tables inserted in marble, is the work of John di Bologna and Baccio Bandinelli.
After dinner, we went to the Church of the Annunciata, where the Duke and his Court were engaged in prayer. It’s a place known for its extraordinary holiness, featuring a shrine famous for performing miracles, as evidenced by countless votive tablets adorning almost all the walls of the church. Here is the image of Gabriel, who greeted the Blessed Virgin, and the artist was so pleased with his work that he felt he could never do the Virgin's face justice; it’s said that it was miraculously completed for him while he slept, though others believe it was painted by St. Luke himself. Regardless, people of all backgrounds are deeply devoted to it. The altar is adorned with four columns of exotic alabaster and illuminated by thirty large silver lamps. There are countless other paintings by renowned masters. The depiction of Our Savior's Passion on brass plates set in marble is the work of John di Bologna and Baccio Bandinelli.
To this church joins a convent, whose cloister is painted in fresco very rarely. There is also near it an hospital for 1,000 persons, with nurse-children, and several other charitable accommodations.
To this church, there’s a convent, whose cloister is rarely painted in fresco. There's also a nearby hospital for 1,000 people, with nurse-kids, and several other charitable facilities.
At the Duke's Cavalerizza, the Prince has a stable of the finest horses of all countries, Arabs, Turks, Barbs, Gennets, English, etc., which are continually exercised in the manège.
At the Duke's Cavalerizza, the Prince has a collection of the best horses from around the world—Arabs, Turks, Barbs, Gennets, English, etc.—that are constantly exercised in the manège.
Near this is a place where are kept several wild beasts, as wolves, cats, bears, tigers, and lions. They are loose in a deep walled court, and therefore to be seen with more pleasure than those at the Tower of London, in their grates. One of the lions leaped to a surprising height, to catch a joint of mutton which I caused to be hung down.
Near here is a place where several wild animals are kept, including wolves, cats, bears, tigers, and lions. They roam freely in a deep walled enclosure, making them more enjoyable to watch than those at the Tower of London, which are behind bars. One of the lions jumped to an amazing height to grab a piece of mutton that I had hung up.
20 There are many plain brick towers erected for defense, when this was a free state. The highest is called[Pg 94] the Mangio, standing at the foot of the piazza which we went first to see after our arrival. At the entrance of this tower is a chapel open toward the piazza, of marble well adorned with sculpture.
20 There are many simple brick towers built for defense when this was a free state. The tallest one is called[Pg 94] the Mangio, located at the base of the piazza, which we visited first after we arrived. At the entrance of this tower, there's a chapel that opens toward the piazza, crafted from marble and beautifully decorated with sculptures.
On the other side is the Signoria, or Court of Justice, well built a la moderna, of brick; indeed the bricks of Sienna are so well made, that they look almost as well as porphyry itself, having a kind of natural polish.
On the other side is the Signoria, or Court of Justice, well built a la moderna, of brick; in fact, the bricks of Sienna are so well made that they nearly resemble porphyry itself, having a sort of natural polish.
In the Senate-house is a very fair Hall where they sometimes entertain the people with public shows and operas, as they call them. Toward the left are the statues of Romulus and Remus with the wolf, all of brass, placed on a column of ophite stone, which they report was brought from the renowned Ephesian Temple. These ensigns being the arms of the town, are set up in divers of the streets and public ways both within and far without the city.
In the Senate building, there's a beautiful hall where they sometimes host public performances and operas, as they refer to them. On the left side, you'll find statues of Romulus and Remus with the wolf, made of brass, placed on a column of ophite stone, which is said to have come from the famous Temple of Ephesus. These symbols, being the emblem of the town, are displayed in various streets and public areas both within the city and far beyond it.
The piazza compasses the facciáta of the court and chapel, and, being made with descending steps, much resembles the figure of an escalop shell. The white ranges of pavement, intermixed with the excellent bricks above mentioned, with which the town is generally well paved, render it very clean. About this market place (for so it is) are many fair palaces, though not built with excess of elegance. There stands an arch, the work of Baltazzar di Sienna, built with wonderful ingenuity, so that it is not easy to conceive how it is supported, yet it has some imperceptible contiguations, which do not betray themselves easily to the eye. On the edge of the piazza is a goodly fountain beautified with statues, the water issuing out of the wolves' mouths, being the work of Jacobo Quercei, a famous artist. There are divers other public fountains in the city, of good design.
The plaza surrounds the facade of the courthouse and chapel, and with its descending steps, it resembles the shape of a scallop shell. The white pavement, mixed with the excellent bricks mentioned earlier, which the town is generally well-paved with, makes it very clean. Around this marketplace (as it is) are many beautiful palaces, though not overly ornate. There’s an arch, crafted by Baltazzar di Sienna, built with remarkable ingenuity, making it hard to understand how it stands, yet it has some invisible supports that are not easily noticeable to the eye. On the edge of the plaza is a lovely fountain adorned with statues, with water flowing from the mouths of wolves, created by Jacobo Quercei, a renowned artist. There are several other public fountains in the city, all of good design.
After this we walked to the Sapienza, which is the University, or rather College, where the high Germans enjoy many particular privileges when they addict themselves to the civil law: and indeed this place has produced many excellent scholars, besides those three Popes, Alexander, Pius II., and III., of that name, the learned Æneas Sylvius; and both were of the ancient house of the Piccolomini.
After this, we walked to the Sapienza, which is the University, or rather College, where the elite Germans enjoy many special privileges when they study civil law. This place has truly produced many excellent scholars, in addition to the three Popes—Alexander, Pius II, and III—along with the learned Æneas Sylvius, all of whom came from the ancient Piccolomini family.
The chief street is called Strada Romana, in which Pius II. has built a most stately palace of square stone,[Pg 95] with an incomparable portico joining near to it. The town is commanded by a castle which hath four bastions and a garrison of soldiers. Near it is a list to ride horses in, much frequented by the gallants in summer.
The main street is called Strada Romana, where Pius II has built a grand palace made of square stone,[Pg 95] featuring an impressive portico nearby. The town is overseen by a castle that has four bastions and a group of soldiers stationed there. Close by, there's a riding area that's popular among the fashionable crowd in summer.
Not far from hence is the Church and Convent of the Dominicans, where in the chapel of St. Catherine of Sienna they show her head, the rest of her body being translated to Rome. The Duomo, or Cathedral, both without and within, is of large square stones of black and white marble polished, of inexpressible beauty, as is the front adorned with sculpture and rare statues. In the middle is a stately cupola and two columns of sundry streaked colored marble. About the body of the church, on a cornice within, are inserted the heads of all the Popes. The pulpit is beautified with marble figures, a piece of exquisite work; but what exceeds all description is the pavement, where (besides the various emblems and other figures in the nave) the choir is wrought with the history of the Bible, so artificially expressed in the natural colors of the marbles, that few pictures exceed it. Here stands a Christo, rarely cut in marble, and on the large high altar is a brazen vessel of admirable invention and art. The organs are exceeding sweet and well tuned. On the left side of the altar is the library, where are painted the acts of Æneas Sylvius, and others by Raphael. They showed us an arm of St. John the Baptist, wherewith, they say, he baptized our Savior in Jordan; it was given by the King of Peloponnesus to one of the Popes, as an inscription testifies. They have also St. Peter's sword, with which he smote off the ear of Malchus.
Not far from here is the Church and Convent of the Dominicans, where they display the head of St. Catherine of Siena in her chapel, the rest of her body having been moved to Rome. The Duomo, or Cathedral, is made of large square stones of polished black and white marble and is incredibly beautiful. The facade is decorated with sculptures and rare statues. In the center stands a grand dome and two columns made of various streaked colored marbles. Around the interior of the church, a cornice features the heads of all the Popes. The pulpit is adorned with marble figures, a stunning piece of art; but what is truly remarkable is the floor, which (in addition to various emblems and other designs in the nave) portrays the biblical story in the choir, expressed so skillfully in the natural colors of the marbles that few paintings can match it. Here stands a statue of Christ, finely carved in marble, and on the large high altar is an impressive bronze vessel of incredible design and artistry. The organs sound extremely sweet and are well-tuned. To the left of the altar is the library, where the acts of Æneas Sylvius and other works by Raphael are painted. They showed us an arm of St. John the Baptist, which, according to tradition, was used to baptize our Savior in the Jordan River; it was given by the King of Peloponnesus to one of the Popes, as an inscription attests. They also have St. Peter's sword, with which he cut off the ear of Malchus.
Just against the cathedral, we went into the Hospital, where they entertain and refresh for three or four days, gratis, such pilgrims as go to Rome. In the chapel belonging to it lies the body of St. Susorius, their founder, as yet uncorrupted, though dead many hundreds of years. They show one of the nails which pierced our Savior, and Saint Chrysostom's "Comment on the Gospel," written by his own hand. Below the hill stands the pool called Fonte Brande, where fish are fed for pleasure more than food.
Just next to the cathedral, we entered the Hospital, where they welcome and refresh pilgrims heading to Rome for three or four days for free. In the chapel there lies the body of St. Susorius, their founder, still uncorrupted even after hundreds of years. They display one of the nails that pierced our Savior, along with Saint Chrysostom's "Comment on the Gospel," written in his own hand. At the foot of the hill is the pool called Fonte Brande, where fish are fed for fun rather than for food.
St. Francis's Church is a large pile, near which, yet a little without the city, grows a tree which they report in their legend grew from the Saint's staff, which, on going[Pg 96] to sleep, he fixed in the ground, and at his waking found it had grown a large tree. They affirm that the wood of it in decoction cures sundry diseases.
St. Francis's Church is a big building, near which, just outside the city, there is a tree that legend says grew from the Saint's staff. When he went to sleep, he stuck it in the ground, and when he woke up, he found it had turned into a large tree. They say that the wood from it, when boiled, cures various illnesses.
2d November, 1644. We went from Sienna, desirous of being present at the cavalcade of the new Pope, Innocent X.,21 who had not yet made the grand procession to St. John di Laterano. We set out by Porto Romano, the country all about the town being rare for hunting and game. Wild boar and venison are frequently sold in the shops in many of the towns about it. We passed near Monte Oliveto, where the monastery of that Order is pleasantly situated, and worth seeing. Passing over a bridge, which, by the inscription, appears to have been built by Prince Matthias, we went through Buon-Convento, famous for the death of the Emperor, Henry VII., who was here poisoned with the Holy Eucharist. TORRINIERIThence, we came to Torrinieri, where we dined. This village is in a sweet valley, in view of Montalcino, famous for the rare Muscatello.22 After three miles more, we go by St. Quirico, and lay at a private osteria near it, where, after we were provided of lodging, came in Cardinal Donghi, a Genoese by birth, now come from Rome; he was so civil as to entertain us with great respect, hearing we were English, for that, he told us he had been once in our country. Among other discourse, he related how a dove had been seen to sit on the chair in the Conclave at the election of Pope Innocent, which he magnified as a great good omen, with other particulars which we inquired of him, till our suppers parted us. He came in great state with his own bedstead and all the furniture, yet would by no means suffer us to resign the room we had taken up in the lodging before his arrival. Next morning, we rode by Monte Pientio, or, as vulgarly called, Monte Mantumiato, which is of an excessive height, ever and anon peeping above any clouds with its snowy head, till we had climbed to the inn at Radicofani, built by Ferdinand, the great Duke, for the necessary refreshment of travelers in so inhospitable a place. As we ascended, we entered a very thick, solid, and dark body of clouds, looking like rocks at a little distance, which lasted near a mile in going up; they were dry misty vapors, hanging undissolved for[Pg 97] a vast thickness, and obscuring both the sun and earth, so that we seemed to be in the sea rather than in the clouds, till, having pierced through it, we came into a most serene heaven, as if we had been above all human conversation, the mountain appearing more like a great island than joined to any other hills; for we could perceive nothing but a sea of thick clouds rolling under our feet like huge waves, every now and then suffering the top of some other mountain to peep through, which we could discover many miles off: and between some breaches of the clouds we could see landscapes and villages of the subjacent country. This was one of the most pleasant, new, and altogether surprising objects that I had ever beheld.
2nd November, 1644. We left Sienna, eager to witness the parade of the new Pope, Innocent X.,21 who had not yet made the grand procession to St. John di Laterano. We departed via Porto Romano, with the surrounding countryside being excellent for hunting. Wild boar and venison are often sold in the shops of many nearby towns. We passed near Monte Oliveto, where the monastery of that Order is beautifully situated and worth a visit. Crossing a bridge, which, according to the inscription, appears to have been built by Prince Matthias, we went through Buon-Convento, known for the death of Emperor Henry VII., who was poisoned with the Holy Eucharist here. TORRINIERI From there, we arrived at Torrinieri, where we had lunch. This village is nestled in a lovely valley, with a view of Montalcino, famous for its exceptional Muscatello.22 After another three miles, we passed by St. Quirico and stayed at a private osteria nearby, where, after we settled in, Cardinal Donghi, a Genoese by birth who had just come from Rome, entered. He was very courteous and entertained us with great respect, having heard we were English, as he mentioned he had once visited our country. Among other topics, he shared how a dove was seen sitting on the chair during the Conclave at the election of Pope Innocent, which he interpreted as a very positive omen, alongside other details we asked him about, until we were separated by supper. He arrived in grand style with his own bed and all his furnishings but insisted we should keep the room we had chosen before he arrived. The next morning, we rode by Monte Pientio, also commonly known as Monte Mantumiato, which is extremely tall, often peeking above the clouds with its snowy peak, until we reached the inn at Radicofani, built by Ferdinand, the great Duke, for the necessary refreshment of travelers in such an inhospitable area. As we ascended, we entered a very thick, solid, and dark body of clouds, which looked like rocks from a distance, lasting nearly a mile going up; they were dry, misty vapors lingering undissolved in a great thickness, blocking out both the sun and the ground, making it feel like we were in the sea rather than in the clouds, until we broke through to a serene sky, as if we were above all human activity, with the mountain appearing more like a great island than connected to any other hills; for we could see nothing but a vast sea of thick clouds rolling beneath us like massive waves, occasionally revealing the summit of another mountain in the distance, which we could spot many miles away. Between gaps in the clouds, we glimpsed landscapes and villages of the lower country. This was one of the most pleasant, novel, and completely surprising sights I had ever seen.
On the summit of this horrid rock (for so it is) is built a very strong fort, garrisoned, and somewhat beneath it is a small town; the provisions are drawn up with ropes and engines, the precipice being otherwise inaccessible. At one end of the town lie heaps of rocks so strangely broken off from the ragged mountain, as would affright one with their horror and menacing postures. Just opposite to the inn gushed out a plentiful and most useful fountain which falls into a great trough of stone, bearing the Duke of Tuscany's arms. Here we dined, and I with my black lead pen took the prospect. It is one of the utmost confines of the Etrurian State toward St. Peter's Patrimony, since the gift of Matilda to Gregory VII., as is pretended.
On top of this awful rock (which truly it is) stands a very strong fort, occupied by soldiers, and just below it is a small town; supplies are brought up using ropes and machines, as the steep cliff makes it otherwise impossible to access. At one end of the town are piles of rocks that have been oddly broken off from the jagged mountain, looking so frightening and menacing. Directly across from the inn, a plentiful and very useful fountain flows into a large stone trough bearing the Duke of Tuscany's coat of arms. We had lunch here, and I sketched the view with my pencil. It is one of the farthest points of the Etrurian State towards St. Peter's Patrimony, since the gift of Matilda to Gregory VII., or so it's said.
Here we pass a stone bridge, built by Pope Gregory XIV., and thence immediately to Acquapendente, a town situated on a very ragged rock, down which precipitates an entire river (which gives it the denomination), with a most horrid roaring noise. We lay at the posthouse, on which is this inscription:
Here we cross a stone bridge, built by Pope Gregory XIV., and then head straight to Acquapendente, a town perched on a very rough rock, down which an entire river rushes (which is how it got its name), making a terrible roaring noise. We stayed at the posthouse, which has this inscription:
In this post, as long as it has its own post
Every Horse for Mail Coaches.
Before it was dark, we went to see the Monastery of the Franciscans, famous for six learned Popes, and sundry other great scholars, especially the renowned physician and anatomist, Fabricius de Acquapendente, who was bred and born there.[Pg 98]
Before it got dark, we went to see the Monastery of the Franciscans, known for six educated Popes and various other great scholars, especially the well-known physician and anatomist, Fabricius de Acquapendente, who was born and raised there.[Pg 98]
4th November, 1644. After a little riding, we descended toward the Lake of Bolsena, which being above twenty miles in circuit, yields from hence a most incomparable prospect. Near the middle of it are two small islands, in one of which is a convent of melancholy Capuchins, where those of the Farnesian family are interred. Pliny calls it Tarquiniensis Lacus, and talks of divers floating islands about it, but they did not appear to us. The lake is environed with mountains, at one of whose sides we passed toward the town Bolsena, anciently Volsinium, famous in those times, as is testified by divers rare sculptures in the court of St. Christiana's church, the urn, altar, and jasper columns.
4th November, 1644. After a bit of riding, we headed down toward Lake Bolsena, which is over twenty miles around and offers an incredible view from here. In the middle of the lake are two small islands, one of which has a convent of sorrowful Capuchins, where members of the Farnese family are buried. Pliny refers to it as Tarquiniensis Lacus and mentions different floating islands around it, but we didn’t see any. The lake is surrounded by mountains, and we traveled along one side toward the town of Bolsena, once known as Volsinium, which was famous back in the day, as shown by various rare sculptures in the courtyard of St. Christiana's church, including the urn, altar, and jasper columns.
After seven miles' riding, passing through a wood heretofore sacred to Juno, we came to Montefiascone, the head of the Falisci, a famous people in old time, and heretofore Falernum, as renowned for its excellent wine, as now for the story of the Dutch Bishop, who lies buried in St. Flavian's church with this epitaph:
After riding for seven miles and passing through a forest that was once sacred to Juno, we arrived at Montefiascone, the center of the Falisci, a well-known people from ancient times. It was previously called Falernum, famous for its excellent wine, and is now known for the tale of the Dutch Bishop, who is buried in St. Flavian's church with this epitaph:
"Propter Est, Est, dominus meus mortuus est."
"Because He Is, He Is, my lord is dead."
Because, having ordered his servant to ride before, and inquire where the best wine was, and there write Est, the man found some so good that he wrote Est, Est, upon the vessels, and the Bishop drinking too much of it, died.
Because he had sent his servant ahead to find out where the best wine was and to write Est, the servant discovered some that was so excellent that he wrote Est, Est on the containers, and the Bishop ended up drinking too much of it and died.
From Montefiascone, we travel a plain and pleasant champaign to Viterbo, which presents itself with much state afar off, in regard of her many lofty pinnacles and towers; neither does it deceive our expectation; for it is exceedingly beautified with public fountains, especially that at the entrance, which is all of brass and adorned with many rare figures, and salutes the passenger with a most agreeable object and refreshing waters. There are many Popes buried in this city, and in the palace is this odd inscription:
From Montefiascone, we travel across a flat and pleasant countryside to Viterbo, which stands out impressively from a distance due to its numerous tall towers and spires; it definitely meets our expectations since it’s beautifully decorated with public fountains, especially the one at the entrance, which is made of brass and features many unique figures, welcoming visitors with a very appealing sight and refreshing waters. Many Popes are buried in this city, and there is an unusual inscription in the palace:
Under it:
Under it:
"Sum Osiris Rex Jupiter universo in terrarum orbe."
"Sum Osiris Rex Jupiter in the whole world."
"Sum Osiris Rex qui ab Itala in Gigantes exercitus veni, vidi, et vici."
"I'm Osiris Rex, who came from Italy to the army of Giants, I came, I saw, and I conquered."
Near the town is a sulphurous fountain, which continually boils. After dinner we took horse by the new way of Capranica, and so passing near Mount Ciminus and the Lake, we began to enter the plains of Rome; at which sight my thoughts were strangely elevated, but soon allayed by so violent a shower, which fell just as we were contemplating that proud Mistress of the world, and descending by the Vatican (for at that gate we entered), that before we got into the city I was wet to the skin.
Near the town is a sulfurous spring that constantly bubbles. After dinner, we rode our horses along the new road to Capranica, passing close to Mount Ciminus and the lake, and began to enter the plains of Rome. The sight lifted my spirits, but they were quickly dampened by a heavy downpour that started just as we were admiring that proud mistress of the world, descending by the Vatican gate (where we entered). By the time we reached the city, I was soaked to the skin.
I came to Rome on the 4th of November, 1644, about five at night; and being perplexed for a convenient lodging, wandered up and down on horseback, till at last one conducted us to Monsieur Petit's, a Frenchman, near the Piazza Spagnola. Here I alighted, and, having bargained with my host for twenty crowns a month, I caused a good fire to be made in my chamber and went to bed, being so very wet. The next morning (for I was resolved to spend no time idly here) I got acquainted with several persons who had long lived at Rome. I was especially recommended to Father John, a Benedictine monk and Superior of his Order for the English College of Douay, a person of singular learning, religion, and humanity; also to Mr. Patrick Cary, an Abbot, brother to our learned Lord Falkland, a witty young priest, who afterward came over to our church; Dr. Bacon and Dr. Gibbs, physicians who had dependence on Cardinal Caponi, the latter being an excellent poet; Father Courtney, the chief of the Jesuits in the English College; my Lord of Somerset, brother to the Marquis of Worcester; and some others, from whom I received instructions how to behave in town, with directions to masters and books to take in search of the antiquities, churches, collections, etc. Accordingly, the next day, November 6th, I began to be very pragmatical.23
I arrived in Rome on November 4, 1644, around five in the evening. While trying to find a decent place to stay, I rode around aimlessly until I was finally directed to Monsieur Petit's, a Frenchman, near the Spanish Steps. I dismounted and negotiated with my host for a monthly rate of twenty crowns. I had a nice fire set up in my room and went to bed, completely drenched. The next morning, determined not to waste any time, I met several people who had lived in Rome for a long time. I was particularly introduced to Father John, a Benedictine monk and the head of his Order for the English College of Douay, a man of exceptional knowledge, faith, and kindness; also to Mr. Patrick Cary, an Abbot and brother of our learned Lord Falkland, a witty young priest who later joined our church; Dr. Bacon and Dr. Gibbs, physicians connected to Cardinal Caponi, with the latter being an excellent poet; Father Courtney, the leader of the Jesuits in the English College; my Lord of Somerset, brother of the Marquis of Worcester; and a few others, from whom I received guidance on how to navigate the city, along with recommendations on mentors and books to explore the ancient sites, churches, and collections. So, the following day, November 6, I started to be very proactive.23
In the first place, our sights-man (for so they name certain persons here who get their living by leading strangers about to see the city) went to the Palace Farnese, a magnificent square structure, built by Michael Angelo, of the three orders of columns after the ancient manner, and when architecture was but newly recovered from the Gothic barbarity. The court is square and terraced, having two pairs of stairs which lead to the upper rooms, and conducted us to that famous gallery painted by Augustine Caracci, than which nothing is more rare of that art; so deep and well-studied are all the figures, that it would require more judgment than I confess I had, to determine whether they were flat, or embossed. Thence, we passed into another, painted in chiaroscúro, representing the fabulous history of Hercules. We went out on a terrace, where was a pretty garden on the leads, for it is built in a place that has no extent of ground backward. The great hall is wrought by Salviati and Zuccharo, furnished with statues, one of which being modern is the figure of a Farnese, in a triumphant posture, of white marble, worthy of admiration. Here we were shown the Museum of Fulvius Ursinos, replete with innumerable collections; but the Major-Domo being absent, we could not at this time see all we wished. Descending into the court, we with astonishment contemplated those two incomparable statues of Hercules and Flora, so much celebrated by Pliny, and indeed by all antiquity, as two of the most rare pieces in the world; there likewise stands a modern statue of Hercules and two Gladiators, not to be despised. In a second court was a temporary shelter of boards over the most stupendous and never-to-be-sufficiently-admired Torso of Amphion and Dirce, represented in five figures, exceeding the life in magnitude, of the purest white marble, the contending work of those famous statuaries, Apollonius and Taurisco, in the time of Augustus, hewed out of one entire stone, and remaining unblemished, to be valued beyond all the marbles of the world for its antiquity and workmanship. There are divers other heads and busts. At the entrance of this stately palace stand two rare and vast fountains of garnito stone, brought into this piazza out of Titus's Baths. Here, in summer, the gentlemen of Rome take the FRESCO in their coaches and on foot. At the sides of this court,[Pg 101] we visited the palace of Signor Pichini, who has a good collection of antiquities, especially the Adonis of Parian marble, which my Lord Arundel would once have purchased, if a great price would have been taken for it.
First, our guide (that's what they call some people here who earn a living by showing tourists around the city) took us to the Farnese Palace, an impressive square building designed by Michelangelo, showcasing three styles of columns in the classic way, all built when architecture was just starting to recover from the Gothic period. The courtyard is square and has terraced levels with two sets of stairs leading up to the upper floors, which brought us to the famous gallery painted by Agostino Carracci, known for being one of the rarest examples of that art; the figures are so detailed and well-crafted that it would take more skill than I admit I have to figure out if they appear flat or three-dimensional. Next, we entered another room painted in chiaroscuro, depicting the legendary stories of Hercules. We stepped out onto a terrace that had a charming garden on the roof since it's built in a location without much land behind it. The grand hall is decorated by Salviati and Zuccaro, filled with statues, one of which is a modern piece—a striking white marble figure of a Farnese in a triumphant pose that's truly impressive. Here, we were shown the Museum of Fulvio Ursino, filled with countless collections; however, since the Major-Domo was not present, we couldn’t see everything we wanted at that time. Going down into the courtyard, we were amazed by the two exceptional statues of Hercules and Flora, celebrated by Pliny and indeed by all of antiquity as two of the most remarkable pieces in the world; there’s also a modern statue of Hercules and two gladiators that are worth seeing. In a second courtyard, there was a temporary wooden shelter over the incredible and never-to-be-sufficiently-admired Torso of Amphion and Dirce, depicted in five figures that are larger than life, crafted from pure white marble by the famous sculptors Apollonius and Tauriscus during the time of Augustus, carved from a single block of stone, remaining flawless and valued above all other marbles for its age and artistry. There are also several other heads and busts. At the entrance of this grand palace stand two large and rare fountains made of gneiss stone, brought here from the Baths of Titus. In summer, the gentlemen of Rome come here to enjoy the frescoes, either in their carriages or on foot. On the sides of this courtyard, we visited the palace of Signor Pichini, who has a fine collection of antiques, especially a Parian marble statue of Adonis, which my Lord Arundel once considered purchasing if the price had been reasonable.
We went into the Campo Vaccino, by the ruins of the Temple of Peace, built by Titus Vespasianus, and thought to be the largest as well as the most richly furnished of all the Roman dedicated places: it is now a heap rather than a temple, yet the roof and volto continue firm, showing it to have been formerly of incomparable workmanship. This goodly structure was, none knows how, consumed by fire the very night, by all computation, that our blessed Savior was born.
We entered the Campo Vaccino, near the ruins of the Temple of Peace, built by Titus Vespasianus, which was believed to be the largest and most lavishly decorated of all Roman religious sites. Now it's just a pile of stones instead of a temple, but the roof and volto still stand strong, proving it was once crafted with incredible skill. This impressive building was, for reasons unknown, destroyed by fire on the very night, by all calculations, that our blessed Savior was born.
From hence we passed by the place into which Curtius precipitated himself for the love of his country, now without any sign of a lake, or vorago. Near this stand some columns of white marble, of exquisite work, supposed to be part of the Temple of Jupiter Tonans, built by Augustus; the work of the capitals (being Corinthian) and architrave is excellent, full of sacrificing utensils. There are three other of Jupiter Stator. Opposite to these are the oratories, or churches, of St. Cosmo and Damiano, heretofore the Temples of Romulus; a pretty old fabric, with a tribunal, or tholus within, wrought all of Mosaic. The gates before it are brass, and the whole much obliged to Pope Urban VIII. In this sacred place lie the bodies of those two martyrs; and in a chapel on the right hand is a rare painting of Cavaliere Baglioni.
From there, we moved past the spot where Curtius threw himself in for the love of his country, now with no sign of a lake or abyss. Nearby stand some white marble columns, exquisitely crafted, believed to be part of the Temple of Jupiter Tonans, built by Augustus; the capitals (which are Corinthian) and the architrave are excellent, filled with sacrificial utensils. There are three others dedicated to Jupiter Stator. Opposite these are the oratories or churches of St. Cosmo and Damiano, formerly the Temples of Romulus; a pretty old structure with a tribunal or tholus inside, entirely made of mosaic. The gates in front are brass, and the whole place owes much to Pope Urban VIII. In this sacred site lie the bodies of those two martyrs; in a chapel on the right is a rare painting by Cavaliere Baglioni.
We next entered St. Lorenzo in Miranda. The portico is supported by a range of most stately columns; the inscription cut in the architrave shows it to have been the Temple of Faustina. It is now made a fair church, and has an hospital which joins it. On the same side is St. Adriano, heretofore dedicated to Saturn. Before this was once placed a military column, supposed to be set in the center of the city, from whence they used to compute the distance of all the cities and places of note under the dominion of those universal monarchs. To this church are likewise brazen gates and a noble front; just opposite we saw the heaps and ruins of Cicero's palace. Hence we went toward Mons Capitolinus, at the foot of which stands the arch of Septimus Severus, full and entire, save where the pedestal and some of the[Pg 102] lower members are choked up with ruins and earth. This arch is exceedingly enriched with sculpture and trophies, with a large inscription. In the terrestrial and naval battles here graven, is seen the Roman Aries (the battering-ram); and this was the first triumphal arch set up in Rome. The Capitol, to which we climbed by very broad steps, is built about a square court, at the right hand of which, going up from Campo Vaccino, gushes a plentiful stream from the statue of Tiber, in porphyry, very antique, and another representing Rome; but, above all, is the admirable figure of Marforius, casting water into a most ample concha. The front of this court is crowned with an excellent fabric containing the Courts of Justice, and where the Criminal Notary sits, and others. In one of the halls they show the statues of Gregory XIII. and Paul III., with several others. To this joins a handsome tower, the whole faciata adorned with noble statues, both on the outside and on the battlements, ascended by a double pair of stairs, and a stately Posario.
We then entered St. Lorenzo in Miranda. The entrance is supported by a row of impressive columns; the inscription carved into the architrave indicates it was once the Temple of Faustina. It has now been turned into a beautiful church, and there's a hospital attached to it. On the same side is St. Adriano, previously dedicated to Saturn. In front of it once stood a military column, believed to be positioned at the center of the city, from where all distances to the other cities and notable places under those universal monarchs were measured. This church also features bronze gates and an impressive front; directly across, we saw the piles of ruins from Cicero's palace. From there, we headed towards Mons Capitolinus, at the base of which stands the arch of Septimus Severus, almost completely intact, except for where the pedestal and some of the lower sections are buried under ruins and earth. This arch is richly decorated with sculptures and trophies, along with a large inscription. The terrestrial and naval battles depicted here show the Roman ram (the battering-ram); this was the first triumphal arch erected in Rome. We climbed the very wide steps to the Capitol, which is built around a square courtyard. On the right side, as you ascend from Campo Vaccino, a plentiful stream flows from the ancient porphyry statue of Tiber, alongside another statue representing Rome; however, the most remarkable is the impressive figure of Marforius, pouring water into a large basin. The front of this courtyard is crowned with an impressive structure that houses the Courts of Justice, where the Criminal Notary and others work. In one of the halls, they display statues of Gregory XIII. and Paul III., among several others. Attached to this is a beautiful tower, with the entire façade adorned with noble statues both outside and on the battlements, accessed by a double staircase and a grand Posario.
In the center of the court stands that incomparable horse bearing the Emperor Marcus Aurelius, as big as the life, of Corinthian metal, placed on a pedestal of marble, esteemed one of the noblest pieces of work now extant, antique and very rare. There is also a vast head of a colossean magnitude, of white marble, fixed in the wall. At the descending stairs are set two horses of white marble governed by two naked slaves, taken to be Castor and Pollux, brought from Pompey's Theatre. On the balustrade, the trophies of Marius against the Cimbrians, very ancient and instructive. At the foot of the steps toward the left hand is that Colonna Miliaria, with the globe of brass on it, mentioned to have been formerly set in Campo Vaccino. On the same hand, is the palace of the Signiori Conservatori, or three Consuls, now the civil governors of the city, containing the fraternities, or halls and guilds (as we call them), of sundry companies, and other offices of state. Under the portico within, are the statues of Augustus Cæsar, a Bacchus, and the so renowned Colonna Rostrata of Duillius, with the excellent bassi-relievi. In a smaller court, the statue of Constantine, on a fountain, a Minerva's head of brass, and that of Commodus, to which belongs a hand, the thumb whereof[Pg 103] is at least an ell long, and yet proportionable; but the rest of the colosse is lost. In the corner of this court stand a horse and lion fighting, as big as life, in white marble, exceedingly valued; likewise the Rape of the Sabines; two cumbent figures of Alexander and Mammea; two monstrous feet of a colosse of Apollo; the Sepulchre of Agrippina; and the standard, or antique measure of the Roman foot. Ascending by the steps of the other corner, are inserted four basso-relievos, viz, the triumph and sacrifice of Marcus Aurelius, which last, for the antiquity and rareness of the work, I caused my painter, Carlo Neapolitano, to copy. There are also two statues of the Muses, and one of Adrian, the Emperor; above stands the figure of Marius, and by the wall Marsyas bound to a tree; all of them excellent and antique. Above in the lobby are inserted into the walls those ancient laws, on brass, called the Twelve Tables; a fair Madonna of Pietro Perugino, painted on the wall; near which are the archives, full of ancient records.
In the middle of the courtyard stands the remarkable horse carrying Emperor Marcus Aurelius, lifelike and made of Corinthian metal, placed on a marble pedestal and regarded as one of the finest existing pieces of art, antique and very rare. There's also a large head, monumental in size, made of white marble, fixed in the wall. At the base of the descending stairs are two white marble horses controlled by two naked slaves, believed to represent Castor and Pollux, brought from Pompey's Theatre. On the balustrade are the trophies of Marius against the Cimbrians, very old and educational. At the bottom of the steps on the left is the Colonna Miliaria, with the brass globe on top, which is said to have originally been in Campo Vaccino. On the same side stands the palace of the Signiori Conservatori, or three Consuls, now the civil governors of the city, housing the fraternities, or halls and guilds (as we refer to them), of various companies and other state offices. Under the portico inside are statues of Augustus Caesar, a Bacchus, and the famous Colonna Rostrata of Duillius, with excellent bas-reliefs. In a smaller courtyard, there’s a statue of Constantine on a fountain, a brass head of Minerva, and one of Commodus, which features a hand with a thumb at least an ell long, yet proportionate; however, the rest of the colossus is missing. In the corner of this courtyard is a lifelike statue of a horse and a lion fighting, highly valued, along with the Rape of the Sabines; two reclining figures of Alexander and Mammea; two enormous feet of a colossus of Apollo; the Tomb of Agrippina; and the standard, or ancient measure of the Roman foot. Ascending the steps from the other corner, four bas-reliefs are featured, depicting the triumph and sacrifice of Marcus Aurelius, the latter of which I had my painter, Carlo Neapolitano, copy because of its age and rarity. There are also two statues of the Muses and one of Emperor Adrian; above them stands the figure of Marius, and by the wall, Marsyas tied to a tree; all excellent and ancient. Above in the lobby are the ancient laws, cast in brass, known as the Twelve Tables; a beautiful Madonna by Pietro Perugino, painted on the wall; near which are the archives, filled with ancient records.
In the great hall are divers excellent paintings of Cavaliero Giuseppe d'Arpino, a statue in brass of Sextus V. and of Leo X., of marble. In another hall are many modern statues of their late Consuls and Governors, set about with fine antique heads; others are painted by excellent masters, representing the actions of M. Scævola, Horatius Cocles, etc. The room where the Conservatori now feast upon solemn days, is tapestried with crimson damask, embroidered with gold, having a state or balduquino of crimson velvet, very rich; the frieze above rarely painted. Here are in brass, Romulus and Remus sucking the wolf, of brass, with the Shepherd, Faustulus, by them; also the boy plucking the thorn out of his foot, of brass, so much admired by artists. There are also holy statues and heads of Saints. In a gallery near adjoining are the names of the ancient Consuls, Prætors, and Fasti Romani, so celebrated by the learned; also the figure of an old woman; two others representing Poverty; and more in fragments. In another large room, furnished with velvet, are the statue of Adonis, very rare, and divers antique heads. In the next chamber, is an old statue of Cicero, one of another Consul, a Hercules in brass, two women's heads of incomparable work, six other statues; and, over the chimney, a very rare basso-[Pg 104]relievo, and other figures. In a little lobby before the chapel, is the statue of Hannibal, a Bacchus very antique, bustoes of Pan and Mercury, with other old heads. All these noble statues, etc., belong to the city, and cannot be disposed of to any private person, or removed hence, but are preserved for the honor of the place, though great sums have been offered for them by divers Princes, lovers of art, and antiquity. We now left the Capitol, certainly one of the most renowned places in the world, even as now built by the design of the famous M. Angelo.
In the grand hall, there are various excellent paintings by Cavaliero Giuseppe d'Arpino, along with a brass statue of Sextus V and a marble statue of Leo X. In another hall, there are many modern statues of recent Consuls and Governors, surrounded by fine antique heads; others are painted by great masters, depicting the deeds of M. Scævola, Horatius Cocles, and so on. The room where the Conservatori now dine on special occasions is decorated with crimson damask, embroidered with gold, and features a lavish crimson velvet canopy; the frieze above is beautifully painted. Here, there are brass sculptures of Romulus and Remus suckling the wolf, along with the shepherd Faustulus; also, there's a sculpture of a boy pulling a thorn from his foot, highly admired by artists. Additionally, there are holy statues and heads of saints. In a nearby gallery, you'll find the names of ancient Consuls, Praetors, and the celebrated Fasti Romani; there is also a figure of an old woman, two others representing Poverty, and several fragments. In another large room, furnished with velvet, there's a rare statue of Adonis and various ancient heads. In the next chamber, there’s an old statue of Cicero, another of a Consul, a Hercules in brass, two remarkable women's heads, six other statues, and above the fireplace, a very rare low-relief sculpture, along with other figures. In a small lobby before the chapel, you can see a statue of Hannibal, a very ancient Bacchus, busts of Pan and Mercury, and other old heads. All these noble statues, etc., belong to the city and cannot be given to any private individual or moved away; they are preserved for the honor of the place, even though great sums have been offered for them by various princes who appreciate art and antiquity. We have now left the Capitol, certainly one of the most famous places in the world, even as it is now constructed based on the design of the renowned Michelangelo.
Returning home by Ara Cœli, we mounted to it by more than 100 marble steps, not in devotion, as I observed some to do on their bare knees, but to see those two famous statues of Constantine, in white marble, placed there out of his baths. In this church is a Madonna, reported to be painted by St. Luke, and a column, on which we saw the print of a foot, which they affirm to have been that of the Angel, seen on the Castle of St. Angelo. Here the feast of our Blessed Savior's nativity being yearly celebrated with divers pageants, they began to make the preparation. Having viewed the Palace and fountain, at the other side of the stairs, we returned weary to our lodgings.
Returning home by Ara Cœli, we climbed more than 100 marble steps, not in devotion like some who did so on their bare knees, but to see those two famous statues of Constantine made of white marble, which were placed there from his baths. In this church is a Madonna, said to be painted by St. Luke, and a column where we saw the imprint of a foot, which they claim belonged to the Angel seen at the Castle of St. Angelo. Here, the feast of our Blessed Savior's nativity is celebrated every year with various pageants, and preparations were just beginning. After viewing the Palace and fountain on the other side of the stairs, we returned, exhausted, to our lodgings.
On the 7th of November, we went again near the Capitol, toward the Tarpeian rock, where it has a goodly prospect of the Tiber. Thence, descending by the Tullianum, where they told us St. Peter was imprisoned, they showed us a chapel (S. Pietro de Vincoli) in which a rocky side of it bears the impression of his face. In the nave of the church gushes a fountain, which they say was caused by the Apostle's prayers, when having converted some of his fellow-captives he wanted water to make them Christians. The painting of the Ascension is by Raphael. We then walked about Mount Palatinus and the Aventine, and thence to the Circus Maximus, capable of holding 40,000 spectators, now a heap of ruins, converted into gardens. Then by the Forum Boarium, where they have a tradition that Hercules slew Cacus, some ruins of his temple remaining. The Temple of Janus Quadrifrons, having four arches, importing the four Seasons, and on each side niches for the months, is still a substantial and pretty entire antiquity. Near to this is[Pg 105] the Arcus Argentariorum. Bending now toward the Tiber, we went into the Theater of Marcellus, which would hold 80,000 persons, built by Augustus, and dedicated to his nephew; the architecture, from what remains, appears to be inferior to none. It is now wholly converted into the house of the Savelli, one of the old Roman families. The people were now generally busy in erecting temporary triumphs and arches with statues and flattering inscriptions against his Holiness's grand procession to St. John di Laterani, among which the Jews also began one in testimony of gratitude for their protection under the Papal State. The Palazzo Barberini, designed by the present Pope's architect, Cavaliero Bernini, seems from the size to be as princely an object, as any modern building in Europe. It has a double portico, at the end of which we ascended by two pair of oval stairs, all of stone, and void in the well. One of these led us into a stately hall, the volto whereof was newly painted á fresco, by the rare hand of Pietro Berretini il Cortone. To this is annexed a gallery completely furnished with whatever art can call rare and singular, and a library full of worthy collections, medals, marbles, and manuscripts; but, above all, an Egyptian Osiris, remarkable for its unknown material and antiquity. In one of the rooms near this hangs the Sposaliccio of St. Sebastian, the original of Annibal Caracci, of which I procured a copy, little inferior to the prototype; a table, in my judgment, superior to anything I had seen in Rome. In the court is a vast broken guglia, or obelisk, having divers hieroglyphics cut on it.
On November 7th, we went again near the Capitol, toward the Tarpeian rock, where there’s a great view of the Tiber. From there, we went down to the Tullianum, where they told us St. Peter was imprisoned. They showed us a chapel (S. Pietro de Vincoli) that has a rocky side with an impression of his face. In the nave of the church, there’s a fountain, which they say came from the Apostle's prayers when, after converting some of his fellow captives, he wanted water to make them Christians. The painting of the Ascension is by Raphael. We then walked around the Palatine Hill and the Aventine, and from there to the Circus Maximus, which could hold 40,000 spectators and is now a pile of ruins turned into gardens. Then we passed by the Forum Boarium, where there’s a tradition that Hercules killed Cacus, with some ruins of his temple still remaining. The Temple of Janus Quadrifrons, which has four arches representing the four seasons, and niches for the months on each side, is still quite an impressive and well-preserved ancient structure. Nearby is[Pg 105] the Arcus Argentariorum. Now heading towards the Tiber, we entered the Theater of Marcellus, which could hold 80,000 people, built by Augustus and dedicated to his nephew; the architecture, from what remains, seems to be second to none. It has now completely become the home of the Savelli, one of the old Roman families. People were busy setting up temporary triumphs and arches with statues and flattering inscriptions for the grand procession of his Holiness to St. John di Laterani, among which the Jews also started one in gratitude for their protection under the Papal State. The Palazzo Barberini, designed by the current Pope's architect, Cavaliero Bernini, looks to be as grand as any modern building in Europe. It has a double portico, at the end of which we went up two sets of oval stairs, all made of stone and hollow in the middle. One of these led us into a stately hall, the ceiling of which was newly painted á fresco, by the exceptional hand of Pietro Berretini il Cortone. Attached to this is a gallery fully stocked with rare and unique art, and a library full of valuable collections, medals, marbles, and manuscripts; but above all, there’s an Egyptian Osiris, notable for its unknown material and antiquity. In one of the nearby rooms hangs the Sposaliccio of St. Sebastian, the original by Annibal Caracci, of which I got a copy that was almost as good as the original; a piece that, in my opinion, is better than anything else I had seen in Rome. In the courtyard is a large broken guglia, or obelisk, covered in various hieroglyphics.
8th November, 1644. We visited the Jesuits' Church, the front whereof is esteemed a noble piece of architecture, the design of Jacomo della Porta and the famous Vignola. In this church lies the body of their renowned Ignatius Loyola, an arm of Xaverius, their other Apostle; and, at the right end of their high altar, their champion, Cardinal Bellarmine. Here Father Kircher (professor of Mathematics and the oriental tongues) showed us many singular courtesies, leading us into their refectory, dispensatory, laboratory, gardens, and finally (through a hall hung round with pictures of such of their order as had been executed for their pragmatical and busy adventures) into his own study, where, with Dutch patience,[Pg 106] he showed us his perpetual motions, catoptrics, magnetical experiments, models, and a thousand other crotchets and devices, most of them since published by himself, or his industrious scholar, Schotti.
8th November, 1644. We visited the Jesuits' Church, the facade of which is regarded as a stunning example of architecture, designed by Jacomo della Porta and the famous Vignola. Inside this church lies the body of their well-known founder, Ignatius Loyola, along with an arm of Xaverius, another of their Apostles; and at the right side of their high altar is their champion, Cardinal Bellarmine. Here, Father Kircher (professor of Mathematics and the Oriental languages) showed us many unique courtesies, taking us into their dining hall, dispensary, laboratory, gardens, and finally (through a hall adorned with portraits of members of their order who had been executed for their practical and active endeavors) into his own study, where, with Dutch patience, [Pg 106] he demonstrated his perpetual motions, catoptrics, magnetic experiments, models, and a thousand other quirky inventions, most of which he or his dedicated student, Schotti, have since published.
Returning home, we had time to view the Palazzo de Medicis, which was an house of the Duke of Florence near our lodging, upon the brow of Mons Pincius, having a fine prospect toward the Campo Marzo. It is a magnificent, strong building, with a substruction very remarkable, and a portico supported with columns toward the gardens, with two huge lions, of marble, at the end of the balustrade. The whole outside of the facciata is incrusted with antique and rare basso-relievos and statues. Descending into the garden is a noble fountain governed by a Mercury of brass. At a little distance, on the left, is a lodge full of fine statues, among which the Sabines, antique and singularly rare. In the arcade near this stand twenty-four statues of great price, and hard by is a mount planted with cypresses, representing a fortress, with a goodly fountain in the middle. Here is also a row balustred with white marble, covered over with the natural shrubs, ivy, and other perennial greens, divers statues and heads being placed as in niches. At a little distance are those famed statues of Niobe and her family, in all fifteen, as large as the life, of which we have ample mention in Pliny, esteemed among the best pieces of work in the world for the passions they express, and all other perfections of that stupendous art. There is likewise in this garden a fair obelisk, full of hieroglyphics. In going out, the fountain before the front casts water near fifty feet in height, when it is received in a most ample marble basin. Here they usually rode the great horse every morning; which gave me much diversion from the terrace of my own chamber, where I could see all their motions. This evening, I was invited to hear rare music at the Chiesa Nova; the black marble pillars within led us to that most precious oratory of Philippus Nerius, their founder; they being of the oratory of secular priests, under no vow. There are in it divers good pictures, as the Assumption of Girolamo Mutiano; the Crucifix; the Visitation of Elizabeth; the Presentation of the Blessed Virgin; Christo Sepolto, of Guido Rheno, Caravaggio, Arpino, and[Pg 107] others. This fair church consists of fourteen altars, and as many chapels. In it is buried (besides their Saint) Cæsar Baronius, the great annalist. Through this, we went into the sacristia, where, the tapers being lighted, one of the Order preached; after him stepped up a child of eight or nine years old, who pronounced an oration with so much grace, that I never was better pleased than to hear Italian so well and so intelligently spoken. This course it seems they frequently use, to bring their scholars to a habit of speaking distinctly, and forming their action and assurance, which none so much want as ours in England. This being finished, began their motettos, which in a lofty cupola richly painted, were sung by eunuchs, and other rare voices, accompanied by theorbos, harpsichords, and viols, so that we were even ravished with the entertainment of the evening. This room is painted by Cortona, and has in it two figures in the niches, and the church stands in one of the most stately streets of Rome.
Returning home, we had time to check out the Palazzo de Medicis, which was the residence of the Duke of Florence near where we were staying, at the top of Mons Pincius, offering a great view over the Campo Marzo. It’s an impressive, sturdy building, with a notable foundation and a portico supported by columns leading to the gardens, featuring two massive marble lions at the ends of the balustrade. The entire façade is adorned with antique and rare bas-reliefs and statues. As you descend into the garden, there's a beautiful fountain topped by a brass Mercury. Not far off to the left, there’s a lodge filled with exquisite statues, including the Sabines, which are ancient and uniquely rare. In the nearby arcade, there stand twenty-four valuable statues, and close by is a mound planted with cypress trees, designed to resemble a fortress, with a lovely fountain in the center. There’s also a row of balusters made of white marble, covered with natural shrubs, ivy, and other evergreen plants, with various statues and heads placed in niches. A little farther away are the famous statues of Niobe and her family, totaling fifteen life-sized figures, which are highly regarded in Pliny and praised as some of the finest works in the world for their emotional expression and all other qualities of that remarkable art. This garden also features a lovely obelisk covered in hieroglyphics. When leaving, the fountain in front sprays water about fifty feet high, collected in a large marble basin. Here, they often rode the great horse every morning, which provided me much entertainment from the terrace of my room, where I could see all their activities. That evening, I was invited to enjoy exceptional music at the Chiesa Nova; the black marble pillars inside led us to the precious oratory of Philippus Nerius, its founder; it being part of the oratory of secular priests, under no vows. Inside, there are several fine paintings, such as the Assumption by Girolamo Mutiano; the Crucifix; the Visitation of Elizabeth; the Presentation of the Blessed Virgin; and Christo Sepolto by Guido Rheno, Caravaggio, Arpino, and others. This beautiful church has fourteen altars and as many chapels. Here lies buried (besides their Saint) Cæsar Baronius, the great annalist. From here, we went into the sacristy, where the candles were lit, and one of the Order preached; after him, a child of about eight or nine years old stepped up and delivered a speech with such grace that I was never more pleased than to hear Italian spoken so well and so articulately. It seems they often do this to help their students develop the habit of speaking clearly and to improve their poise and confidence, which many in England lack. Once this was finished, they began their motets, sung by eunuchs and other exceptional voices in a richly painted high dome, accompanied by theorbos, harpsichords, and viols, leaving us enchanted by the evening’s entertainment. This room was painted by Cortona and features two figures in the niches, and the church is located on one of the most elegant streets in Rome.
10th November, 1644. We went to see Prince Ludovisio's villa, where was formerly the Viridarium of the poet, Sallust. The house is very magnificent, and the extent of the ground exceedingly large, considering that it is in a city; in every quarter of the garden are antique statues, and walks planted with cypress. To this garden belongs a house of retirement, built in the figure of a cross, after a particular ordonnance, especially the staircase. The whiteness and smoothness of the excellent pargeting was a thing I much observed, being almost as even and polished, as if it had been of marble. Above, is a fair prospect of the city. In one of the chambers hang two famous pieces of Bassano, the one a Vulcan, the other a Nativity; there is a German clock full of rare and extraordinary motions; and, in a little room below are many precious marbles, columns, urns, vases, and noble statues of porphyry, oriental alabaster, and other rare materials. About this fabric is an ample area, environed with sixteen vast jars of red earth, wherein the Romans used to preserve their oil, or wine rather, which they buried, and such as are properly called testæ. In the Palace I must never forget the famous statue of the Gladiator, spoken of by Pliny, so much followed by all the rare artists as the many copies testify, dispersed[Pg 108] through almost all Europe, both in stone and metal. There is also a Hercules, a head of porphyry, and one of Marcus Aurelius. In the villa-house is a man's body flesh and all, petrified, and even converted to marble, as it was found in the Alps, and sent by the Emperor to one of the Popes; it lay in a chest, or coffin, lined with black velvet, and one of the arms being broken, you may see the perfect bone from the flesh which remains entire. The Rape of Proserpine, in marble, is of the purest white, the work of Bernini. In the cabinet near it are innumerable small brass figures, and other curiosities. But what some look upon as exceeding all the rest, is a very rich bedstead (which sort of gross furniture the Italians much glory in, as formerly did our grandfathers in England in their inlaid wooden ones) inlaid with all sorts of precious stones and antique heads, onyxes, agates, and cornelians, esteemed to be worth 80 or 90,000 crowns. Here are also divers cabinets and tables of the Florence work, besides pictures in the gallery, especially the Apollo—a conceited chair to sleep in with the legs stretched out, with hooks, and pieces of wood to draw out longer or shorter.
November 10, 1644. We visited Prince Ludovisio's villa, which used to be the Viridarium of the poet Sallust. The house is very impressive, and the grounds are quite large, especially for being in a city; throughout the garden, there are antique statues and paths lined with cypress trees. The garden also includes a retreat house designed in the shape of a cross, featuring a unique staircase layout. I was struck by the brightness and smoothness of the impressive plasterwork, which was almost as even and polished as marble. From above, there’s a lovely view of the city. In one of the rooms, there are two famous paintings by Bassano: one of Vulcan and the other of the Nativity. There's also a German clock with many rare and unusual functions, and in a small room below, are numerous precious marbles, columns, urns, vases, and magnificent statues made of porphyry, oriental alabaster, and other rare materials. Surrounding this building is a large area filled with sixteen massive jars made of red clay, in which the Romans used to store their oil, or rather wine, that they buried, known as testæ. In the palace, I can’t forget the famous statue of the Gladiator mentioned by Pliny, which has inspired many artists, as seen by the numerous copies scattered across almost all of Europe, both in stone and metal. There’s also a statue of Hercules, a porphyry head, and one of Marcus Aurelius. Inside the villa, there’s a man’s body, flesh and all, turned to stone, as it was found in the Alps and sent by the Emperor to one of the Popes; it rests in a chest, or coffin, lined with black velvet, and one of the arms is broken, revealing the perfect bone amid the unchanged flesh. The marble sculpture of the Rape of Proserpine is brilliantly white and crafted by Bernini. In the nearby cabinet are countless small brass figures and other curiosities. However, what some consider the most impressive is an incredibly ornate bed (a type of lavish furniture that Italians take pride in, much like our grandfathers in England did with their inlaid wooden ones) inlaid with various precious stones and antique heads, onyxes, agates, and cornelians, valued at 80 or 90,000 crowns. There are also several cabinets and tables crafted in Florence, along with pictures in the gallery, especially of Apollo—a fancy chair designed for sleeping with extendable legs, equipped with hooks and pieces of wood to adjust the length.
From this villa, we went to see Signor Angeloni's study, who very courteously showed us such a collection of rare medals as is hardly to be paralleled; divers good pictures, and many outlandish and Indian curiosities, and things of nature.
From this villa, we went to see Signor Angeloni's study, who kindly showed us a collection of rare medals that's hard to match; various beautiful paintings, along with many exotic and Indian curiosities, and natural wonders.
From him, we walked to Monte Cavallo, heretofore called Mons Quirinalis, where we saw those two rare horses, the work of the rivals Phidias and Praxiteles, as they were sent to Nero (by Tiridates King) out of Armenia. They were placed on pedestals of white marble by Sextus V., by whom I suppose their injuries were repaired, and are governed by four naked slaves, like those at the foot of the Capitol. Here runs a most noble fountain, regarding four of the most stately streets for building and beauty to be seen in any city of Europe. Opposite to these statues is the Pope's summer palace, built by Gregory XIII.; and, in my opinion, it is, for largeness and the architecture, one of the most conspicuous in Rome, having a stately portico which leads round the court under columns, in the centre of which there runs a beautiful fountain. The chapel is incrusted with[Pg 109] such precious materials, that nothing can be more rich, or glorious, nor are the other ornaments and movables about it at all inferior. The hall is painted by Lanfranci, and others. The garden, which is called the Belvedere di Monte Cavallo, in emulation of that of the Vatican, is most excellent for air and prospect; its exquisite fountains, close walks, grots, piscinas, or stews for fish, planted about with venerable cypresses, and refreshed with water-music, aviaries, and other rarities.
From there, we walked to Monte Cavallo, previously known as Mons Quirinalis, where we saw those two rare horses, created by the rival artists Phidias and Praxiteles, which were sent to Nero by King Tiridates from Armenia. They were placed on white marble pedestals by Sextus V., who I assume had their damages repaired, and are attended to by four naked slaves, similar to those at the foot of the Capitol. Here, there’s a magnificent fountain that overlooks four of the most impressive streets for construction and beauty found in any European city. Across from these statues is the Pope's summer palace, built by Gregory XIII.; in my view, it’s one of the most notable in Rome for its size and architecture, featuring a grand portico that wraps around the courtyard under columns, with a beautiful fountain at its center. The chapel is adorned with such precious materials that nothing can surpass its richness and glory, and the other decorations and furnishings around it are equally impressive. The hall is painted by Lanfranchi and others. The garden, known as the Belvedere di Monte Cavallo, in competition with the Vatican’s garden, is exceptional for its fresh air and view; it boasts exquisite fountains, winding paths, grottos, fish ponds, adorned with majestic cypress trees, and is enhanced by water music, aviaries, and various other rarities.
12th November, 1644. We saw Dioclesian's Baths, whose ruins testify the vastness of the original foundation and magnificence; by what M. Angelo took from the ornaments about it, 'tis said he restored the then almost lost art of architecture. This monstrous pile was built by the labor of the primitive Christians, then under one of the ten great persecutions. The Church of St. Bernardo is made out of one only of these ruinous cupolas, and is in the form of an urn with a cover.
12th November, 1644. We visited Dioclesian's Baths, whose ruins show the size of the original structure and its grandeur; it’s said that Michelangelo took inspiration from the decorations around it to revive the nearly forgotten art of architecture. This massive building was constructed by the early Christians during one of the ten major persecutions. The Church of St. Bernardo is built from one of these crumbling domes, designed in the shape of a covered urn.
Opposite to this, is the Fontana delle Therme, otherwise called Fons Felix; in it is a basso-relievo of white marble, representing Moses striking the rock, which is adorned with camels, men, women, and children drinking, as large as life; a work for the design and vastness truly magnificent. The water is conveyed no less than twenty-two miles in an aqueduct by Sextus V., ex agro Columna, by way of Præneste, as the inscription testifies. It gushes into three ample lavers raised about with stone, before which are placed two lions of a strange black stone, very rare and antique. Near this are the store-houses for the city's corn, and over against it the Church of St. Susanna, where were the gardens of Sallust. The faciàta of this church is noble, the soffito within gilded and full of pictures; especially famous is that of Susanna, by Baldassa di Bologna. The tribunal of the high altar is of exquisite work, from whose marble steps you descend under ground to the repository of divers Saints. The picture over this altar is the work of Jacomo Siciliano. The foundation is for Bernadine Nuns.
Opposite this is the Fontana delle Therme, also known as Fons Felix; it features a white marble bas-relief depicting Moses striking the rock, surrounded by camels, men, women, and children drinking, all lifelike in size; a truly magnificent work in design and scale. The water travels a remarkable twenty-two miles through an aqueduct built by Sextus V., ex agro Columna, passing through Præneste, as the inscription confirms. It flows into three large basins made of stone, in front of which stand two lions carved from a rare and ancient black stone. Nearby are the city’s grain storage facilities, and facing it is the Church of St. Susanna, which once had the gardens of Sallust. The façade of this church is impressive, and the ceiling inside is gilded and filled with paintings; particularly famous is the depiction of Susanna by Baldassa di Bologna. The altar's tribunal is exquisitely crafted, with marble steps leading down underground to the resting place of various saints. The painting above this altar is by Jacomo Siciliano. The foundation is for Bernadine Nuns.
Santa Maria della Vittoria presents us with the most ravishing front. In this church was sung the Te Deum by Gregory XV., after the signal victory of the Emperor at Prague; the standards then taken still hang up, and the impress waving this motto over the Pope's arms, Extir[Pg 110]pentur. I observed that the high altar was much frequented for an image of the Virgin. It has some rare statues, as Paul ravished into the third heaven, by Fiamingo, and some good pictures. From this, we bent toward Dioclesian's Baths, never satisfied with contemplating that immense pile, in building which 150,000 Christians were destined to labor fourteen years, and were then all murdered. Here is a monastery of Carthusians, called Santa Maria degli Angeli, the architecture of M. Angelo, and the cloister encompassing walls in an ample garden.
Santa Maria della Vittoria has the most stunning façade. In this church, Pope Gregory XV. celebrated the Te Deum after the Emperor's decisive victory at Prague; the captured banners still hang here, along with the emblem displaying the motto Extir[Pg 110]pentur over the Pope's coat of arms. I noticed that the high altar is very popular due to an image of the Virgin. It features some rare statues, like Saint Paul being taken up to the third heaven, created by Fiamingo, as well as some great paintings. From there, we moved towards Dioclesian's Baths, always in awe of that massive structure, where 150,000 Christians were forced to work for fourteen years, only to be all murdered. There's a Carthusian monastery called Santa Maria degli Angeli, designed by Michelangelo, with a cloister surrounding walls in a spacious garden.
Mont Alto's villa is entered by a stately gate of stone built on the Viminalis, and is no other than a spacious park full of fountains, especially that which salutes us at the front; stews for fish; the cypress walks are so beset with statues, inscriptions, relievos, and other ancient marbles, that nothing can be more stately and solemn. The citron trees are uncommonly large. In the palace joining to it are innumerable collections of value. Returning, we stepped into St. Agnes church, where there is a tribunal of antique mosaic, and on the altar a most rich ciborio of brass, with a statue of St. Agnes in oriental alabaster. The church of Santa Constanza has a noble cupola. Here they showed us a stone ship borne on a column heretofore sacred to Bacchus, as the relievo intimates by the drunken emblems and instruments wrought upon it. The altar is of rich porphyry, as I remember. Looking back, we had the entire view of the Via Pia down to the two horses before the Monte Cavallo, before mentioned, one of the most glorious sights for state and magnificence that any city can show a traveler. We returned by Porta Pia, and the Via Salaria, near Campo Scelerato, in whose gloomy caves the wanton Vestals were heretofore immured alive.
Mont Alto's villa is accessed through a grand stone gate built on the Viminalis, and it's actually a large park filled with fountains, especially the one that greets us at the entrance; fish ponds; the cypress paths are lined with statues, inscriptions, reliefs, and other ancient marbles, making it incredibly impressive and solemn. The citron trees are unusually large. In the adjoining palace, there are countless valuable collections. On our way back, we visited St. Agnes Church, which features an ancient mosaic tribunal, and on the altar, a stunning brass ciborium with a statue of St. Agnes in oriental alabaster. The Church of Santa Constanza has a magnificent dome. Here, they showed us a stone ship on a column that was once dedicated to Bacchus, as indicated by the drunken symbols and instruments carved into it. The altar is made of rich porphyry, if I recall correctly. Looking back, we had a complete view of the Via Pia all the way to the two horses in front of Monte Cavallo, which is one of the most magnificent sights for grandeur and splendor that any city can offer a traveler. We returned via Porta Pia and the Via Salaria, near Campo Scelerato, where the reckless Vestals were once imprisoned alive in its dark caves.
Thence to Via Felix, a straight and noble street but very precipitous, till we came to the four fountains of Lepidus, built at the abutments of four stately ways, making an exact cross of right angles; and, at the fountains, are as many cumbent figures of marble, under very large niches of stone, the water pouring into huge basins. The church of St. Carlo is a singular fabric for neatness, of an oval design, built of a new white stone; the columns are worth notice. Under it is another church of a structure nothing less admirable.[Pg 111]
Then we went to Via Felix, a straight and impressive street but quite steep, until we reached the four fountains of Lepidus, built at the junction of four grand roads, forming a perfect cross. At the fountains are four reclining marble figures under large stone niches, with water pouring into massive basins. The church of St. Carlo is uniquely neat, designed in an oval shape and made of a new white stone; the columns are noteworthy. Below it is another church that is equally remarkable.[Pg 111]
Next, we came to Santa Maria Maggiore, built upon the Esqueline Mountain, which gives it a most conspicuous face to the street at a great distance. The design is mixed partly antique, partly modern. Here they affirm that the Blessed Virgin appearing, showed where it should be built 300 years since. The first pavement is rare and antique; so is the portico built by P. P. Eugenius II. The ciborio is the work of Paris Romano, and the tribunal of Mosaic.
Next, we arrived at Santa Maria Maggiore, located on the Esqueline Hill, which makes it very visible from the street even at a distance. The design blends both ancient and modern styles. Here, it’s said that the Blessed Virgin appeared and indicated where it should be built 300 years ago. The original flooring is unique and historic; the portico was built by Pope Eugene II. The ciborio is the work of Paris Romano, and the mosaics are part of the tribunal.
We were showed in the church a concha of porphyry, wherein they say Patricius, the founder, lies. This is one of the most famous of the seven Roman Churches, and is, in my opinion at least, after St. Peter's, the most magnificent. Above all, for incomparable glory and materials, are the two chapels of Sextus V. and Paulus V. That of Sextus was designed by Dom. Fontana, in which are two rare great statues, and some good pieces of painting; and here they pretended to show some of the Holy Innocents' bodies slain by Herod: as also that renowned tabernacle of metal, gilt, sustained by four angels, holding as many tapers, placed on the altar. In this chapel is the statue of Sextus, in copper, with basso-relievos of most of his famous acts, in Parian marble; but that of P. Paulus, which we next entered, opposite to this, is beyond all imagination glorious, and above description. It is so encircled with agates, and other most precious materials, as to dazzle and confound the beholders. The basso-relievos are for the most part of pure snowy marble, intermixed with figures of molten brass, double gilt, on lapis lazuli. The altar is a most stupendous piece; but most incomparable is the cupola painted by Giuseppe Rheni, and the present Baglioni, full of exquisite sculptures. There is a most sumptuous sacristia; and the piece over the altar was by the hand of St. Luke; if you will believe it. Paulus V. hath here likewise built two other altars; under the one lie the bones of the Apostle, St. Matthias. In another oratory, is the statue of this Pope, and the head of the Congo Ambassador, who was converted at Rome, and died here. In a third chapel, designed by Michael Angelo, lie the bodies of Platina, and the Cardinal of Toledo, Honorius III., Nicephorus IV., the ashes of St. Hierom, and many others. In that of Sextus V., before mentioned, was[Pg 112] showed us part of the crib in which Christ was swaddled at Bethlehem; there is also the statue of Pius V.; and going out at the further end, is the resurrection of Lazarus, by a very rare hand. In the portico, is this late inscription: "Cardinal Antonio Barberino Archypresbytero, aream marmoream quam Christianorum pietas exsculpsit, laborante sub Tyrannis ecclesiâ, ut esset loci sanctitate venerabilior, Francis Gualdus Arm. Eques S. Stephani è suis ædibus huc transtulit et ornavit, 1632." Just before this portico, stands a very sublime and stately Corinthian column, of white marble, translated hither for an ornament from the old Temple of Peace, built by Vespasian, having on the plinth of the capital the image of our Lady, gilt on metal; at the pedestal runs a fountain. Going down the hill, we saw the obelisk taken from the Mausoleum of Augustus, and erected in this place by Domenico Fontana, with this epigraph: "Sextus V. Pont. Max. Obeliscum ex Egypto advectum, Augusti in Mausoleo dicatum, eversum deinde et in plures confractum partes, in via ad S. Rochum jacentem, in pristinam faciem restitutum Salutiferæ Cruci feliciùs hic erigi jussit, anno MDLXXXVIII, Pont. III"; and so we came weary to our lodgings.
We were shown a concha made of porphyry in the church, where they say Patricius, the founder, is buried. This is one of the most famous of the seven Roman Churches and, in my opinion at least, after St. Peter's, the most magnificent. Especially striking are the two chapels of Sextus V. and Paulus V., which are made of incredible materials. The chapel of Sextus, designed by Dom. Fontana, features two rare large statues and some fine paintings, and they claimed to display some relics of the Holy Innocents slain by Herod. There’s also a renowned gilded metal tabernacle supported by four angels holding candles, placed on the altar. In this chapel is a copper statue of Sextus, surrounded by low-relief carvings of most of his famous acts in Parian marble. However, the chapel of Paulus V., which we entered next, is unimaginably glorious and beyond description. It’s adorned with agates and other precious materials that dazzle and confuse viewers. The low-reliefs are mostly made of pure snowy marble, mixed with figures of molten brass, double-gilded, on lapis lazuli. The altar is an astounding piece; but the most incomparable feature is the dome painted by Giuseppe Rheni and the current Baglioni, filled with exquisite sculptures. There’s a lavish sacristia; and the artwork above the altar was created by the hand of St. Luke, if you can believe it. Paulus V. also built two other altars here; in one of them lie the bones of the Apostle St. Matthias. In another little chapel, there’s a statue of this Pope and the head of the Congo Ambassador, who converted in Rome and died here. In a third chapel, designed by Michelangelo, lie the bodies of Platina and the Cardinal of Toledo, Honorius III., Nicephorus IV., the ashes of St. Jerome, and many others. In the previously mentioned chapel of Sextus V., they showed us part of the crib where Christ was swaddled in Bethlehem; there's also a statue of Pius V., and at the exit, there’s the resurrection of Lazarus, created by a very rare artist. In the portico, there’s this recent inscription: "Cardinal Antonio Barberino Archpriest, the marble area which the piety of Christians sculpted, struggling under the tyranny of the Church, to make this place more venerable in its sanctity, Francis Gualdus, a Knight of St. Stephen, transferred and adorned from his own abode here, 1632." Right before this portico stands a very tall and impressive Corinthian column of white marble, brought here for decoration from the ancient Temple of Peace built by Vespasian, featuring a gilded image of our Lady on the plinth of the capital; a fountain runs around the pedestal. As we descended the hill, we saw the obelisk taken from the Mausoleum of Augustus, erected here by Domenico Fontana, with this inscription: "Sextus V, Pont. Max. The obelisk brought from Egypt, dedicated to Augustus in his Mausoleum, was then toppled and broken into several parts, lying in the road to S. Rochum, restored to its original shape by the Salutiferous Cross with greater success in the year 1588, Pont. III"; and so we arrived back at our lodgings, feeling exhausted.
At the foot of this hill, is the church of St. Prudentia, in which is a well, filled with the blood and bones of several martyrs, but grated over with iron, and visited by many devotees. Near this stands the church of her sister, S. Praxedeis, much frequented for the same reason. In a little obscure place, canceled in with iron work, is the pillar, or stump, at which they relate our Blessed Savior was scourged, being full of bloody spots, at which the devout sex are always rubbing their chaplets, and convey their kisses by a stick having a tassel on it. Here, besides a noble statue of St. Peter, is the tomb of the famous Cardinal Cajetan, an excellent piece; and here they hold that St. Peter said his first mass at Rome, with the same altar and the stone he kneeled on, he having been first lodged in this house, as they compute about the forty-fourth year of the Incarnation. They also show many relics, or rather rags, of his mantle. St. Laurence in Panisperna did next invite us, where that martyr was cruelly broiled on the gridiron, there yet remaining. St. Bridget is buried in this church under a stately monument. In the front of the pile is the suffering of St. Laurence painted[Pg 113] á fresco on the wall. The fabric is nothing but Gothic. On the left is the Therma Novatii; and, on the right, Agrippina's Lavacrum.
At the base of this hill is the church of St. Prudentia, which has a well filled with the blood and bones of several martyrs, but it’s covered with iron bars and frequented by many worshippers. Next to it stands the church of her sister, St. Praxedes, which is also popular for the same reason. In a small, secluded spot, enclosed with ironwork, is the pillar or stump where it’s said our Blessed Savior was whipped; it’s marked with bloody spots, and devout women often rub their rosaries on it and send their kisses through a stick with a tassel. Here, alongside a beautiful statue of St. Peter, is the tomb of the famous Cardinal Cajetan, an impressive piece. They claim that St. Peter said his first mass in Rome right at this altar, using the same stone he knelt on, having initially stayed in this house around the forty-fourth year of the Incarnation. They also display many relics, or rather scraps, of his cloak. St. Laurence in Panisperna also invited us next, where that martyr was violently grilled on a gridiron, which still remains. St. Bridget is buried in this church under a grand monument. On the front wall is a fresco depicting the suffering of St. Laurence. The architecture is purely Gothic. To the left is the Therma Novatii, and to the right is Agrippina's Lavacrum.
14th November, 1644. We passed again through the stately Capitol and Campo Vaccino toward the Amphitheater of Vespasian, but first stayed to look at Titus's Triumphal Arch, erected by the people of Rome, in honor of his victory at Jerusalem; on the left hand whereof he is represented drawn in a chariot with four horses abreast; on the right hand, or side of the arch within, is sculptured in figures, or basso-relievo as big as the life (and in one entire marble) the Ark of the Covenant, on which stands the seven-branched candlestick described in Leviticus, as also the two Tables of the Law, all borne on men's shoulders by the bars, as they are described in some of St. Hierom's bibles; before this, go many crowned and laureated figures, and twelve Roman fasces with other sacred vessels. This much confirmed the idea I before had; and therefore, for the light it gave to the Holy History, I caused my painter, Carlo, to copy it exactly. The rest of the work of the Arch is of the noblest, best understood composita; and the inscription is this, in capital letters:
14th November, 1644. We passed through the impressive Capitol and Campo Vaccino once again, heading toward the Amphitheater of Vespasian, but first we stopped to admire Titus's Triumphal Arch, built by the people of Rome to celebrate his victory at Jerusalem. On the left side of the arch, he is depicted riding in a chariot pulled by four horses side by side; on the right side, within the arch, there is a life-sized sculpture in high relief of the Ark of the Covenant, which has the seven-branched candlestick mentioned in Leviticus, along with the two Tables of the Law— all carried on men's shoulders with the rods, as described in some of St. Hierom's bibles. In front of this, there are many crowned figures adorned with laurels, along with twelve Roman fasces and other sacred vessels. This further solidified the idea I had before; therefore, for the insights it provided to the Holy History, I asked my painter, Carlo, to copy it exactly. The rest of the arch's work is exceptionally crafted and well-composed, and the inscription reads as follows, in capital letters:
S. P. Q. R.
D. TITO, D. VESPASIANI, F. VESPASIANI AVGVSTO.
S. P. Q. R.
To Titus, son of Vespasian, from the Emperor Vespasian.
Santa Maria Nova is on the place where they told us Simon Magus fell out of the air at St. Peter's prayer, and burst himself to pieces on a flint. Near this is a marble monument, erected by the people of Rome in memory of the Pope's return from Avignon. Being now passed the ruins of Meta-Sudante (which stood before the Colosseum, so called, because there once stood here the statue of Commodus provided to refresh the gladiators), we enter the mighty ruins of the Vespasian Amphitheatre, begun by Vespasian, and finished by that excellent prince, Titus. It is 830 Roman palms in length (i.e. 130 paces), 90 in breadth at the area, with caves for the wild beasts which used to be baited by men instead of dogs; the whole oval periphery 2888-4/7 palms, and capable of containing 87,000 spectators with ease and all accommodation: the three rows of circles are yet entire; the first was for the senators, the middle for[Pg 114] the nobility, the third for the people. At the dedication of this place were 5,000 wild beasts slain in three months during which the feast lasted, to the expense of ten millions of gold. It was built of Tiburtine stone, a vast height, with the five orders of architecture, by 30,000 captive Jews. It is without, of a perfect circle, and was once adorned thick with statues, and remained entire, till of late that some of the stones were carried away to repair the city walls and build the Farnesian palace. That which still appears most admirable is, the contrivance of the porticos, vaults, and stairs, with the excessive altitude, which well deserves this distich of the poet:
Santa Maria Nova is located where they say Simon Magus fell from the sky during St. Peter's prayer and shattered on a flint stone. Nearby, there's a marble monument put up by the people of Rome to commemorate the Pope's return from Avignon. After passing the ruins of Meta-Sudante (which once stood before the Colosseum, named because there used to be a statue of Commodus here meant to refresh the gladiators), we enter the grand ruins of the Vespasian Amphitheatre, started by Vespasian and completed by the great emperor Titus. It measures 830 Roman palms in length (about 130 paces) and 90 in width at the arena, with enclosures for the wild beasts that were baited by men instead of dogs; the entire oval perimeter is 2888-4/7 palms, and it can comfortably hold 87,000 spectators with all the necessary accommodations. The three tiers of seating are still intact; the first was for the senators, the middle for the nobility, and the third for the general public. At the dedication of this place, 5,000 wild beasts were killed over the three months of festivities, at a cost of ten million gold coins. It was constructed from Tiburtine stone, reaching great heights, featuring five architectural orders, built by 30,000 captive Jews. From the outside, it forms a perfect circle and was once richly decorated with statues, remaining intact until recently when some stones were taken to repair city walls and build the Farnesian palace. What remains most impressive is the design of the porticos, vaults, and stairways, with their immense height, which truly deserves this couplet from the poet:
Let one work speak for all.
Near it is a small chapel called Santa Maria della Pieta nel Colisseo, which is erected on the steps, or stages, very lofty at one of its sides, or ranges, within, and where there lives only a melancholy hermit. I ascended to the very top of it with wonderful admiration.
Near it is a small chapel called Santa Maria della Pieta nel Colisseo, which is built on the steps or stages, very high on one side, and where only a sad hermit lives. I climbed to the very top of it with great admiration.
The Arch of Constantine the Great is close by the Meta-Sudante, before mentioned, at the beginning of the Via Appia, on one side Monte Celio, and is perfectly entire, erected by the people in memory of his victory over Maxentius, at the Pons Milvius, now Ponte Mole. In the front is this inscription:
The Arch of Constantine the Great is nearby the Meta-Sudante, as mentioned earlier, at the start of the Via Appia, next to Monte Celio, and it is completely intact. It was built by the people to commemorate his victory over Maxentius at the Pons Milvius, now known as Ponte Mole. On the front, there is this inscription:
IMP. CAES. FL. CONSTANTINO MAXIMO
P. F. AVGVSTO S. P. Q. R.
QVOD INSTINCTV DIVINITATIS MENTIS
MAGNITVDINE CVM EXERCITV SVO
TAM DE TYRANNO QVAM DE OMNI EIVS
FACTIONE VNO TEMPORE IVSTIS
REMPVBLICAM VLTVS EST ARMIS
ARCVM TRIVMPHIS INSIGNEM DICAVIT.
IMP. CAES. FL. CONSTANTINO MAXIMO
P. F. AVGVSTO S. P. Q. R.
THAT BY THE INSTINCT OF DIVINE MIND
AND THE GREATNESS OF HIS CHARACTER
WITH HIS ARMY AT ONCE
HE JUSTLY DEFENDED THE REPUBLIC
AND DEDICATED THE ARCH OF TRIUMPH IN HIS HONOR.
Hence, we went to St. Gregorio, in Monte Celio, where are many privileged altars, and there they showed us an arm of that saint, and other relics. Before this church stands a very noble portico.
Hence, we went to St. Gregorio in Monte Celio, where there are many special altars, and they showed us an arm of that saint, along with other relics. In front of this church is a very impressive portico.
15th November, 1644. Was very wet, and I stirred not out, and the 16th I went to visit Father John, Provincial of the Benedictines.[Pg 115]
15th November, 1644. It was very rainy, and I didn’t go out, and on the 16th I went to visit Father John, the Provincial of the Benedictines.[Pg 115]
17th November, 1644. I walked to Villa Borghese, a house and ample garden on Mons Pincius, yet somewhat without the city walls, circumscribed by another wall full of small turrets and banqueting-houses; which makes it appear at a distance like a little town. Within it is an elysium of delight, having in the centre of it a noble palace; but the entrance of the garden presents us with a very glorious fabric, or rather door-case, adorned with divers excellent marble statues. This garden abounded with all sorts of delicious fruit and exotic simples, fountains of sundry inventions, groves, and small rivulets. There is also adjoining to it a vivarium for ostriches, peacocks, swans, cranes, etc., and divers strange beasts, deer, and hares. The grotto is very rare, and represents, among other devices, artificial rain, and sundry shapes of vessels, flowers, etc.; which is effected by changing the heads of the fountains. The groves are of cypress, laurel, pine, myrtle, and olive. The four sphinxes are very antique, and worthy observation. To this is a volary, full of curious birds. The house is square with turrets, from which the prospect is excellent toward Rome, and the environing hills, covered as they now are with snow, which indeed commonly continues even a great part of the summer, affording sweet refreshment. Round the house is a baluster of white marble, with frequent jettos of water, and adorned with a multitude of statues. The walls of the house are covered with antique incrustations of history, as that of Curtius, the Rape of Europa, Leda, etc. The cornices above consist of fruitages and festoons, between which are niches furnished with statues, which order is observed to the very roof. In the lodge, at the entry, are divers good statues of Consuls, etc., with two pieces of field artillery upon carriages, (a mode much practiced in Italy before the great men's houses) which they look on as a piece of state more than defense. In the first hall within, are the twelve Roman Emperors, of excellent marble; between them stand porphyry columns, and other precious stones of vast height and magnitude, with urns of oriental alabaster. Tables of pietra-commessa: and here is that renowned Diana which Pompey worshiped, of eastern marble: the most incomparable Seneca of touch, bleeding in an huge vase of porphyry, resembling the drops of[Pg 116] his blood; the so famous Gladiator, and the Hermaphrodite upon a quilt of stone. The new piece of Daphne, and David, of Cavaliero Bernini, is observable for the pure whiteness of the stone, and the art of the statuary plainly stupendous. There is a multitude of rare pictures of infinite value, by the best masters; huge tables of porphyry, and two exquisitely wrought vases of the same. In another chamber, are divers sorts of instruments of music: among other toys that of a satyr, which so artificially expressed a human voice, with the motion of eyes and head, that it might easily afright one who was not prepared for that most extravagant sight. They showed us also a chair that catches fast any one who sits down in it, so as not to be able to stir out, by certain springs concealed in the arms and back thereof, which at sitting down surprises a man on the sudden, locking him in by the arms and thighs, after a true treacherous Italian guise. The perspective is also considerable, composed by the position of looking-glasses, which render a strange multiplication of things resembling divers most richly furnished rooms. Here stands a rare clock of German work; in a word, nothing but what is magnificent is to be seen in this Paradise.
17th November, 1644. I walked to Villa Borghese, a house and spacious garden on Mons Pincius, somewhat outside the city walls, surrounded by another wall with small towers and banquet houses, making it look like a little town from a distance. Inside is a paradise of delight, featuring a grand palace in the center; but as we enter the garden, we are greeted by a magnificent structure, or rather an entrance, adorned with various beautiful marble statues. This garden is filled with all kinds of delicious fruit and exotic plants, fountains of different designs, groves, and small streams. There's also a zoo for ostriches, peacocks, swans, cranes, and various strange animals, deer, and hares. The grotto is quite unique and showcases, among other things, artificial rain and various shapes of vessels and flowers, achieved by changing the fountain heads. The groves are made up of cypress, laurel, pine, myrtle, and olive trees. The four sphinxes are very ancient and worth noting. There’s also a aviary full of exotic birds. The house is square with towers, offering a fantastic view of Rome and the surrounding hills, which are currently covered in snow—a snow that often lingers even into summer, providing a refreshing coolness. Around the house is a balustrade of white marble, with frequent jets of water, and adorned with numerous statues. The walls of the house are decorated with ancient mosaics depicting historical scenes, like that of Curtius, the Rape of Europa, Leda, and others. The cornices above feature fruits and garlands, with niches containing statues, a style that continues all the way to the roof. In the lodge at the entrance, there are several impressive statues of Consuls, alongside two pieces of field artillery on carriages, a common display in Italy before the great men’s houses, viewed more as a symbol of status than for defense. In the first hall, there are the twelve Roman Emperors, carved from exquisite marble; between them are tall columns of porphyry and other precious stones, accompanied by urns of Eastern alabaster. There are tables made of pietra-commessa, and here stands the renowned Diana worshipped by Pompey, made of eastern marble. The incomparable Seneca appears lifelike, bleeding into a large porphyry vase, resembling drops of his blood; there’s also the famous Gladiator and the Hermaphrodite on a stone quilt. The new sculptures of Daphne and David by Cavaliero Bernini are notable for the stone's pure whiteness and the astounding artistry of the sculptor. There are countless rare paintings of immense value by the greatest masters, large tables of porphyry, and two exquisitely crafted vases of the same material. In another room, there are various musical instruments, including a satyr figure that mimics a human voice so convincingly, with moving eyes and head, that it could easily frighten someone unprepared for such an extravagant sight. They also showed us a chair that traps anyone who sits in it, making it impossible to get up due to hidden springs in the arms and back, which suddenly lock the person in—a classic Italian trick. The perspective is impressive too, designed with mirrors that create a strange multiplication of spaces resembling richly decorated rooms. Here stands a remarkable clock made in Germany; in short, everything here exudes magnificence in this paradise.
The next day, I went to the Vatican, where, in the morning, I saw the ceremony of Pamfilio, the Pope's nephew, receiving a Cardinal's hat; this was the first time I had seen his Holiness in pontificalibus. After the Cardinals and Princes had met in the consistory, the ceremony was in the Pope's chapel, where he was at the altar invested with most pompous rites.
The next day, I went to the Vatican, where, in the morning, I witnessed the ceremony for Pamfilio, the Pope's nephew, receiving a Cardinal's hat; it was the first time I'd seen his Holiness in pontificalibus. After the Cardinals and Princes gathered in the consistory, the ceremony took place in the Pope's chapel, where he was at the altar, invested with grand rituals.
19th November, 1644. I visited St. Peter's, that most stupendous and incomparable Basilica, far surpassing any now extant in the world, and perhaps, Solomon's Temple excepted, any that was ever built. The largeness of the piazza before the portico is worth observing, because it affords a noble prospect of the church, not crowded up, as for the most part is the case in other places where great churches are erected. In this is a fountain, out of which gushes a river rather than a stream which, ascending a good height, breaks upon a round emboss of marble into millions of pearls that fall into the subjacent basins with great noise; I esteem this one of the goodliest fountains I ever saw.[Pg 117]
19th November, 1644. I visited St. Peter's, that amazing and unmatched Basilica, far surpassing any that exists in the world today, and perhaps, except for Solomon's Temple, any that has ever been built. The size of the piazza in front of the portico is worth noting because it provides a grand view of the church, not cramped as is usually the case in other locations where large churches are built. In this piazza, there's a fountain that flows more like a river than a stream, which rises to a significant height, splashing into a round marble basin and creating millions of pearls that fall into the lower basins with a loud sound; I consider this one of the most impressive fountains I have ever seen.[Pg 117]
Next is the obelisk transported out of Egypt, and dedicated by Octavius Augustus to Julius Cæsar, whose ashes it formerly bore on the summit; but, being since overturned by the barbarians, was re-erected with vast cost and a most stupendous invention by Domenico Fontana, architect to Sextus V. The obelisk consists of one entire square stone without hieroglyphics, in height seventy-two feet, but comprehending the base and all it is 108 feet high, and rests on four lions of gilded copper, so as you may see through the base of the obelisk and plinth of the pedestal.
Next is the obelisk brought from Egypt and dedicated by Octavius Augustus to Julius Caesar, whose ashes it once held at the top; however, after being toppled by barbarians, it was restored at great expense and incredible skill by Domenico Fontana, the architect for Sextus V. The obelisk is made from a single square stone without hieroglyphics, standing seventy-two feet tall, but including the base, it reaches 108 feet in height and rests on four gilded copper lions, allowing you to see through the base of the obelisk and the pedestal.
Upon two faces of the obelisk is engraven
Upon two sides of the obelisk is engraved
DIVO CAES. DIVI
IVLII F. AVGVSTO
TI. CAES. DIVI AVG.
F. AVGVS. SACRVM.
DIVO CAES. DIVI
IVLII F. AVGVSTO
TI. CAES. DIVI AVG.
F. AVGVS. SACRVM.
It now bears on the top a cross in which it is said that Sextus V. inclosed some of the holy wood; and under it is to be read by good eyes:
It now has a cross on top, where it's said that Sextus V. enclosed some of the holy wood; and below it, those with good vision can read:
SANCTISSIMAE CRVCI
SEXTVS V. PONT. MAX.
CONSECRAVIT.
E. PRIORE SEDE AVVLSVM
ET CAESS. AVG. AC TIB.
I. L. ABLATUM M.D.LXXXVI.
SANCTISSIMAE CRVCI
SEXTVS V. PONT. MAX.
CONSECRATED.
E. PRIOR SEAT FOR THE HALL
AND CAESAR AUGUSTUS AND YOU.
I. L. REMOVED M.D.LXXXVI.
On the four faces of the base below:
On the four sides of the base below:
1. CHRISTVS VINCIT.
CHRISTVS REGNAT.
CHRISTVS IMPERAT.
CHRISTVS AB OMNI MALO
PLEBEM SVAM DEFENDAT.
1. CHRISTUS VICTOR.
CHRISTUS REGE.
CHRISTUS IMPERA.
CHRISTUS PROTEGE
POPOLO TUO DA SALVE.
2. SEXTVS V. PONT. MAX.
OBELISCVM VATICANVM DIIS GENTIVM
IMPIO CVLTV DICATVM
AD APOSTOLORVM LIMINA
OPEROSO LABORE TRANSTVLIT
AN. M.D.LXXXVI. PONT. II.
2. SEXTUS V. PONT. MAX.
VATICAN OBELISK DEDICATED TO THE GODS OF THE PAGANS
Nefarious Cult
AT THE APOSTLES' THRESHOLD
TRANSPORTED WITH GREAT EFFORT
YEAR 1586. PONT. II.
3. ECCE CRVX DOMINI
FVGITE PARTES
ADVERSAE
VINCIT LEO
DE TRIBV IVDA.
3. THE CROSS OF THE LORD
FLEE OPPONENTS
THE LION
OF THE TRIBE OF JUDAH CONQUERS.
4. SEXTVS V. PONT. MAX.
CRVCI INVICTAE
OBELISCVM VATICANVM
AB IMPIA SVPERSTITIONE
EXPIATVM IVSTIVS
ET FELICITVS CONSECRAVIT
AN. M.D.L.XXXVI. PONT. II.
4. SEXTUS V. PONT. MAX.
CRUCIS INVICTAE
OBELISK VATICAN
CLEANSED FROM IMPIOUS SUPERSTITION
DEDICATED BY JUSTUS
AND FORTUNATE IN THE YEAR M.D.L.XXXVI. PONT. II.
A little lower:
A bit lower:
DOMINICVS FONTANA EX PAGO MILIAGRI NOVOCOMENSIS
TRANSTVLIT ET EREXIT.
DOMINICUS FONTANA FROM MILIAGRI, NEW COMMUNE
TRANSLATED AND BUILT.
It is reported to have taken a year in erecting, to have cost 37,975 crowns, the labor of 907 men, and 75 horses: this being the first of the four Egyptian obelisks set up at Rome, and one of the forty-two brought to the city out of Egypt, set up in several places, but thrown down by the Goths, Barbarians, and earthquakes. Some coaches stood before the steps of the ascent, whereof one, belonging to Cardinal Medici, had all the metal work of massy silver, viz, the bow behind and other places. The coaches at Rome, as well as covered wagons also much in use, are generally the richest and largest I ever saw. Before the facciata of the church is an ample pavement. The church was first begun by St. Anacletus, when rather a chapel, on a foundation, as they give out, of Constantine the Great, who, in honor of the Apostles, carried twelve baskets full of sand to the work. After him, Julius II. took it in hand, to which all his successors have contributed more or less.
It is said to have taken a year to build, costing 37,975 crowns, involving the work of 907 men and 75 horses. This is the first of the four Egyptian obelisks set up in Rome, and one of the forty-two brought to the city from Egypt, placed in various locations but later toppled by the Goths, Barbarians, and earthquakes. Some carriages were parked in front of the steps leading up, one of which belonged to Cardinal Medici and had all its metal parts made of solid silver, including the rear bow and other areas. The carriages in Rome, along with covered wagons that are also widely used, are generally the most luxurious and largest I've ever seen. In front of the facciata of the church is a large paved area. The church was originally started by St. Anacletus, when it was more of a chapel, based on a foundation as they say from Constantine the Great, who, in honor of the Apostles, brought twelve baskets filled with sand to the construction site. After him, Julius II took it on, and all his successors have contributed to it to varying degrees.
The front is supposed to be the largest and best-studied piece of architecture in the world; to this we went up by four steps of marble. The first entrance is supported by huge pilasters; the volto within is the richest possible, and overlaid with gold. Between the five large anti-ports are columns of enormous height and compass, with as many gates of brass, the work and[Pg 119] sculpture of Pollaivola, the Florentine, full of cast figures and histories in a deep relievo. Over this runs a terrace of like amplitude and ornament, where the Pope, at solemn times, bestows his Benediction on the vulgar. On each side of this portico are two campaniles, or towers, whereof there was but one perfected, of admirable art. On the top of all, runs a balustrade which edges it quite round, and upon this at equal distances are Christ and the twelve Disciples of gigantic size and stature, yet below showing no greater than the life. Entering the church, admirable is the breadth of the volto, or roof, which is all carved with foliage and roses overlaid with gold in nature of a deep basso-relievo, à l'antique. The nave, or body, is in form of a cross, whereof the foot-part is the longest; and, at the internodium of the transept, rises the cupola, which being all of stone and of prodigious height is more in compass than that of the Pantheon (which was the largest among the old Romans, and is yet entire) or any other known. The inside, or concave, is covered with most exquisite Mosaic, representing the Celestial Hierarchy, by Giuseppe d'Arpino, full of stars of gold; the convex, or outside, exposed to the air, is covered with lead, with great ribs of metal double gilt (as are also the ten other lesser cupolas, for no fewer adorn this glorious structure), which gives a great and admirable splendor in all parts of the city. On the summit of this is fixed a brazen globe gilt, capable of receiving thirty-five persons. This I entered, and engraved my name among other travelers. Lastly, is the Cross, the access to which is between the leaden covering and the stone convex, or arch-work; a most truly astonishing piece of art! On the battlements of the church, also all overlaid with lead and marble, you would imagine yourself in a town, so many are the cupolas, pinnacles, towers, juttings, and not a few houses inhabited by men who dwell there, and have enough to do to look after the vast reparations which continually employ them.
The front is known as the largest and most thoroughly studied piece of architecture in the world; we reached it by climbing four marble steps. The main entrance is supported by massive pillars; the interior features ornate designs, lavishly adorned with gold. Between the five large entryways stand towering columns, with several brass gates crafted by Pollaivola, the Florentine, showcasing cast figures and intricate reliefs. Above this area runs a terrace of equal size and decoration, where the Pope gives his Benediction to the public on special occasions. On either side of this portico are two towers, known as campaniles, one of which has been beautifully completed. Surrounding the top is a balustrade, which is continuous, featuring large sculptures of Christ and the twelve Disciples, all impressively sized but proportionate to life below. Upon entering the church, one is struck by the wide roof, which is entirely carved with foliage and roses, overlaid with gold in a deep relief style reminiscent of ancient times. The main body of the church takes the shape of a cross, with the foot part being the longest; at the junction of the transept rises the dome, which is entirely made of stone and is extraordinarily tall, larger in diameter than that of the Pantheon (the largest among the ancient Romans, which still stands) or any other known dome. The interior, or concave part, is adorned with exquisite mosaics depicting the Celestial Hierarchy, created by Giuseppe d'Arpino, filled with gold stars; the exterior is covered in lead, supported by large ribs of metal that are also gilded (as are the ten smaller domes that embellish this magnificent structure), which provides stunning and remarkable splendor throughout the city. At the very top rests a gilt bronze globe, large enough to hold thirty-five people. I went inside and carved my name among the names of other visitors. Finally, there's the Cross, accessed via a space between the lead covering and the stone arch; it is truly an astonishing piece of art! On the church's battlements, also covered in lead and marble, you would think you were in a town, so numerous are the domes, spires, towers, and even a few houses occupied by people who live there and are busy maintaining the vast repairs that keep them occupied.
Having seen this, we descended into the body of the church, full of collateral chapels and large oratories, most of them exceeding the size of ordinary churches; but the principal are four incrusted with most precious marbles and stones of various colors, adorned with an infinity of[Pg 120] statues, pictures, stately altars, and innumerable relics. The altar-piece of St. Michael being of Mosaic, I could not pass without particular note, as one of the best of that kind. The chapel of Gregory XIII., where he is buried, is most splendid. Under the cupola, and in the center of the church, stands the high altar, consecrated first by Clement VIII., adorned by Paul V., and lately covered by Pope Urban VIII.; with that stupendous canopy of Corinthian brass, which heretofore was brought from the Pantheon; it consists of four wreathed columns, partly channelled and encircled with vines, on which hang little puti birds and bees (the arms of the Barberini), sustaining a baldacchino of the same metal. The four columns weigh an hundred and ten thousand pounds, all over richly gilt; this, with the pedestals, crown, and statues about it, form a thing of that art, vastness, and magnificence, as is beyond all that man's industry has produced of the kind; it is the work of Bernini, a Florentine sculptor, architect, painter, and poet, who, a little before my coming to the city, gave a public opera (for so they call shows of that kind), wherein he painted the scenes, cut the statues, invented the engines, composed the music, writ the comedy, and built the theater. Opposite to either of these pillars, under those niches which, with their columns, support the weighty cupola, are placed four exquisite statues of Parian marble, to which are four altars; that of St. Veronica, made by Fra. Mochi, has over it the reliquary, where they showed us the miraculous Sudarium indued with the picture of our Savior's face, with this inscription: "Salvatoris imaginem Veronicæ Sudario exceptam ut loci majestas decentèr custodiret, Urbanus VIII. Pont. Max. Marmoreum signum et Altare addidit, Conditorium extruxit et ornavit."
Having seen this, we went down into the main part of the church, which was filled with side chapels and large oratories, most of them larger than typical churches. The main ones are four, decorated with precious marbles and stones of various colors, adorned with countless[Pg 120] statues, paintings, grand altars, and numerous relics. I couldn’t help but take special note of the altar-piece of St. Michael, made of Mosaic, as it’s one of the best of its kind. The chapel of Gregory XIII., where he is buried, is truly magnificent. Under the dome, in the center of the church, stands the high altar, first consecrated by Clement VIII., adorned by Paul V., and recently covered by Pope Urban VIII.; it features that stunning canopy of Corinthian brass, which was originally brought from the Pantheon. It consists of four twisted columns, partly fluted and encircled with vines, on which dangle small puti birds and bees (the symbols of the Barberini), supporting a baldacchino made of the same material. The four columns weigh a hundred and ten thousand pounds, all richly gilded; together with the pedestals, crown, and the surrounding statues, they create an artwork of such scale and magnificence that surpasses everything else produced by human effort. This masterpiece was created by Bernini, a Florentine sculptor, architect, painter, and poet, who, shortly before I arrived in the city, staged a public opera (as they call shows like that), where he painted the scenes, sculpted the statues, designed the machinery, composed the music, wrote the comedy, and built the theater. Opposite each of these pillars, under the niches that, along with their columns, support the heavy dome, are placed four exquisite statues made of Parian marble, each with an altar; that of St. Veronica, created by Fra. Mochi, has above it the reliquary, where they showed us the miraculous Sudarium featuring the image of our Savior's face, with this inscription: "Salvatoris imaginem Veronicæ Sudario exceptam ut loci majestas decentèr custodiret, Urbanus VIII. Pont. Max. Marmoreum signum et Altare addidit, Conditorium extruxit et ornavit."
Right against this is that of Longinus, of a Colossean magnitude, also by Bernini, and over him the conservatory of the iron lance inserted in a most precious crystal, with this epigraph: "Longini Lanceam quam Innocentius VIII. à Bajazete Turcarum Tyranno accepit, Urbanus VIII. statuâ appositâ, et Sacello substructo, in exornatum Conditorium transtulit."
Right next to this is the statue of Longinus, which is of a colossal size, also by Bernini. Above him is the conservatory holding the iron lance set in a beautiful crystal, with this inscription: "Longinus received the lance from Innocent VIII. from Bajazet, the Tyrant of the Turks; Urban VIII. moved it to the decorated place with the statue placed nearby and the chapel built underneath."
The third chapel has over the altar the statue of our countrywoman, St. Helena, the mother of Constantine the Great; the work of Boggi, an excellent sculptor; and here[Pg 121] is preserved a great piece of the pretended wood of the holy cross, which she is said to have first detected miraculously in the Holy Land. It was placed here by the late Pope with this inscription: "Partem Crucis quam Helena Imperatrix è Calvario in Urbem adduxit, Urbanus VIII. Pont. Max. è Sissorianâ Basilicâ desumptam, additis arâ et statuâ, hìc in Vaticano collocavit."
The third chapel has a statue of our fellow countrywoman, St. Helena, the mother of Constantine the Great, above the altar; it's a work by the talented sculptor Boggi. Here[Pg 121] is a significant piece of the supposed wood from the holy cross, which she is said to have first discovered miraculously in the Holy Land. This was placed here by the late Pope with the inscription: "Partem Crucis quam Helena Imperatrix è Calvario in Urbem adduxit, Urbanus VIII. Pont. Max. è Sissorianâ Basilicâ desumptam, additis arâ et statuâ, hìc in Vaticano collocavit."
The fourth hath over the altar, and opposite to that of St. Veronica, the statue of St. Andrew, the work of Fiamingo, admirable above all the other; above is preserved the head of that Apostle, richly enchased. It is said that this excellent sculptor died mad to see his statue placed in a disadvantageous light by Bernini, the chief architect, who found himself outdone by this artist. The inscription over it is this:
The fourth has over the altar, and directly across from St. Veronica, the statue of St. Andrew, created by Fiamingo, which is remarkable above all the others; above it is the head of that Apostle, beautifully adorned. It’s said that this talented sculptor went mad upon seeing his statue poorly lit by Bernini, the lead architect, who felt overshadowed by this artist. The inscription above it reads:
"St. Andreæ caput quod Pius II. ex Achaiâ in Vaticanum asportandum curavit, Urbanus VIII. novis hic ornamentis decoratum sacrisque statuæ ac Sacelli honoribus coli voluit."
"The head of St. Andrew, which Pius II had brought from Achaia to the Vatican, was adorned with new decorations by Urban VIII and is to be honored with sacred statues and the ceremonies of the chapel."
The relics showed and kept in this church are without number, as are also the precious vessels of gold, silver, and gems, with the vests and services to be seen in the Sacristy, which they showed us. Under the high altar is an ample grot inlaid with pietra-commessa, wherein half of the bodies of St. Peter and St. Paul are preserved; before hang divers great lamps of the richest plate, burning continually. About this and contiguous to the altar, runs a balustrade, in form of a theater, of black marble. Toward the left, as you go out of the church by the portico, a little beneath the high altar, is an old brass statue of St. Peter sitting, under the soles of whose feet many devout persons rub their heads, and touch their chaplets. This was formerly cast from a statue of Jupiter Capitolinus. In another place, stands a column grated about with iron, whereon they report that our Blessed Savior was often wont to lean as he preached in the Temple. In the work of the reliquary under the cupola there are eight wreathed columns brought from the Temple of Solomon. In another chapel, they showed us the chair of St. Peter, or, as they name it, the Apostolical Throne. But among all the chapels the one most glorious has for an altar-piece a Madonna bearing a dead Christ on her knees, in white[Pg 122] marble, the work of Michael Angelo. At the upper end of the Cathedral, are several stately monuments, especially that of Urban VIII. Round the cupola, and in many other places in the church, are confession seats, for all languages, Hebrew, Greek, Latin, Spanish, Italian, French, English, Irish, Welsh, Sclavonian, Dutch, etc., as it is written on their friezes in golden capitals, and there are still at confessions some of all nations. Toward the lower end of the church, and on the side of a vast pillar sustaining a weighty roof, is the depositum and statue of the Countess Matilda, a rare piece, with basso-relievos about it of white marble, the work of Bernini. Here are also those of Sextus IV. and Paulus III., etc. Among the exquisite pieces in this sumptuous fabric is that of the ship with St. Peter held up from sinking by our Savior; the emblems about it are the Mosaic of the famous Giotto, who restored and made it perfect after it had been defaced by the Barbarians. Nor is the pavement under the cupola to be passed over without observation, which with the rest of the body and walls of the whole church, are all inlaid with the richest of pietra-commessa, in the most splendid colors of polished marbles, agates, serpentine, porphyry, calcedon, etc., wholly incrusted to the very roof. Coming out by the portico at which we entered, we were shown the Porta Santa, never opened but at the year of jubilee. This glorious foundation hath belonging to it thirty canons, thirty-six beneficiates, twenty-eight clerks beneficed, with innumerable chaplains, etc., a Cardinal being always archpriest; the present Cardinal was Francisco Barberini, who also styled himself Protector of the English, to whom he was indeed very courteous.
The relics displayed and kept in this church are countless, as are the valuable vessels made of gold, silver, and gems, along with the garments and services shown to us in the Sacristy. Beneath the high altar is a spacious grotto inlaid with pietra-commessa, where half of the bodies of St. Peter and St. Paul are preserved; hanging before it are various large lamps made of the finest metal, which burn continuously. Surrounding this area and adjacent to the altar is a balustrade shaped like a theater, made of black marble. To the left, as you exit the church through the portico, just below the high altar, is an old brass statue of St. Peter sitting, beneath whose feet many devoted people rub their heads and touch their rosaries. This statue was originally cast from one of Jupiter Capitolinus. In another spot, there is a column surrounded by iron bars, where it is said that our Blessed Savior often leaned while preaching in the Temple. In the reliquary beneath the dome, there are eight twisted columns taken from the Temple of Solomon. In another chapel, we were shown the chair of St. Peter, known as the Apostolic Throne. Yet among all the chapels, the most glorious has an altar piece depicting a Madonna holding a dead Christ on her lap, crafted in white[Pg 122] marble by Michelangelo. At the upper end of the Cathedral, there are several impressive monuments, especially that of Urban VIII. Around the dome and in many other areas of the church, there are confessionals for various languages: Hebrew, Greek, Latin, Spanish, Italian, French, English, Irish, Welsh, Slavic, Dutch, etc., as indicated on their friezes in golden letters, and there are still people from all nations in confession. Toward the lower end of the church, next to a large pillar that supports a heavy roof, is the depositum and statue of Countess Matilda, a rare piece featuring white marble reliefs created by Bernini. Here, you’ll also find those of Sextus IV and Paulus III, among others. Among the exquisite pieces in this magnificent structure is the one showing the ship with St. Peter being saved from sinking by our Savior; the emblems surrounding it are a mosaic by the famous Giotto, who restored and perfected it after it had been damaged by Barbarians. The pavement beneath the dome is also noteworthy, as it, along with the rest of the body and walls of the church, is inlaid with the richest pietra-commessa, showcasing the most brilliant colors of polished marbles, agates, serpentine, porphyry, chalcedony, etc., covering everything up to the roof. Exiting through the portico where we entered, we were shown the Porta Santa, which is only opened during the year of jubilee. This glorious establishment is home to thirty canons, thirty-six beneficiaries, twenty-eight clerks with benefices, and numerous chaplains, with a Cardinal always serving as the archpriest; the current Cardinal is Francisco Barberini, who also calls himself Protector of the English, a title he carries with great kindness.
20th November, 1644. I went to visit that ancient See and Cathedral of St. John di Laterano, and the holy places thereabout. This is a church of extraordinary devotion, though, for outward form, not comparable to St. Peter's, being of Gothic ordonnance. Before we went into the cathedral, the Baptistery of St. John Baptist presented itself, being formerly part of the Great Constantine's palace, and, as it is said, his chamber where by St. Silvester he was made a Christian. It is of an octagonal shape, having before the entrance eight fair pillars of rich porphyry, each of one entire piece, their[Pg 123] capitals of divers orders, supporting lesser columns of white marble, and these supporting a noble cupola, the molding whereof is excellently wrought. In the chapel which they affirm to have been the lodging place of this Emperor, all women are prohibited from entering, for the malice of Herodias who caused him to lose his head. Here are deposited several sacred relics of St. James, Mary Magdalen, St. Matthew, etc., and two goodly pictures. Another chapel, or oratory near it, is called St. John the Evangelist, well adorned with marbles and tables, especially those of Cavaliére Giuseppe, and of Tempesta, in fresco. We went hence into another called St. Venantius, in which is a tribunal all of Mosaic in figures of Popes. Here is also an altar of the Madonna, much visited, and divers Sclavonish saints, companions of Pope John IV. The portico of the church is built of materials brought from Pontius Pilate's house in Jerusalem.
20th November, 1644. I went to visit the ancient See and Cathedral of St. John Lateran, along with the holy sites nearby. This church is incredibly revered, although in terms of appearance, it doesn’t compare to St. Peter’s, as it follows the Gothic style. Before entering the cathedral, we came across the Baptistery of St. John the Baptist, which was once part of Great Constantine's palace and, as it’s said, his room where St. Silvester baptized him as a Christian. It has an octagonal shape, with eight beautiful pillars made of rich porphyry at the entrance, each made from a single piece. Their capitals have various designs and support smaller columns of white marble, which in turn hold up a grand dome, beautifully crafted. In the chapel believed to be the Emperor's lodging place, women are forbidden to enter due to the jealousy of Herodias, who caused his beheading. Several sacred relics of St. James, Mary Magdalene, St. Matthew, and others are housed here, as well as two fine paintings. Another chapel, or oratory nearby, is called St. John the Evangelist, well decorated with marbles and artworks, particularly those by Cavaliére Giuseppe and Tempesta, in fresco. We then went into another chapel called St. Venantius, which has a tribunal entirely made of Mosaic depicting Popes. There is also an altar dedicated to the Madonna, frequently visited, along with various Slavic saints who were companions of Pope John IV. The portico of the church is constructed from materials brought from Pontius Pilate's house in Jerusalem.
The next sight which attracted our attention, was a wonderful concourse of people at their devotions before a place called Scala Sancta, to which is built a noble front. Entering the portico, we saw those large marble stairs, twenty-eight in number, which are never ascended but on the knees, some lip-devotion being used on every step; on which you may perceive divers red specks of blood under a grate, which they affirm to have been drops of our Blessed Savior, at the time he was so barbarously misused by Herod's soldiers; for these stairs are reported to have been translated hither from his palace in Jerusalem. At the top of them is a chapel, whereat they enter (but we could not be permitted) by gates of marble, being the same our Savior passed when he went out of Herod's house. This they name the Sanctum Sanctorum, and over it we read this epigraph:
The next sight that caught our attention was a large crowd of people praying in front of a place called Scala Sancta, which has a beautiful facade. As we entered the portico, we noticed the large marble staircase, which has twenty-eight steps that can only be climbed on your knees, with a prayer said at each step. You can see various red stains of blood under a grate, which they claim are drops from our Blessed Savior during the time he was brutally treated by Herod's soldiers; these steps are said to have been brought here from his palace in Jerusalem. At the top, there is a chapel that people enter (but we were not allowed to) through marble gates, the same ones our Savior passed when he left Herod's house. They call this the Sanctum Sanctorum, and above it, we read this inscription:
Non est in toto sanctior orbe locus.
There's no place in the entire world that's holier.
Here, through a grate, we saw that picture of Christ painted (as they say) by the hand of St. Luke, to the life. Descending again, we saw before the church the obelisk, which is indeed most worthy of admiration. It formerly lay in the Circo Maximo, and was erected here by Sextus V., in 1587, being 112 feet in height without the base or pedestal; at the foot nine and a half one way, and eight the other. This pillar was first brought[Pg 124] from Thebes at the utmost confines of Egypt, to Alexandria, from thence to Constantinople, thence to Rome, and is said by Ammianus Marcellinus to have been dedicated to Rameses, King of Egypt. It was transferred to this city by Constantine the son of the Great, and is full of hieroglyphics, serpents, men, owls, falcons, oxen, instruments, etc., containing (as Father Kircher the Jesuit will shortly tell us in a book which he is ready to publish) all the recondite and abstruse learning of that people. The vessel, galley, or float, that brought it to Rome so many hundred leagues, must needs have been of wonderful bigness and strange fabric. The stone is one and entire, and (having been thrown down) was erected by the famous Dom. Fontana, for that magnificent Pope, Sextus V., as the rest were; it is now cracked in many places, but solidly joined. The obelisk is thus inscribed at the several faciátas:
Here, through a grate, we saw that image of Christ painted (as they say) by the hand of St. Luke, lifelike. Going back down, we saw in front of the church the obelisk, which is truly remarkable. It used to be in the Circus Maximus and was moved here by Pope Sixtus V in 1587, standing 112 feet tall without the base or pedestal; at the bottom, it measures nine and a half feet one way and eight the other. This pillar was originally brought from Thebes at the farthest edge of Egypt to Alexandria, then to Constantinople, and finally to Rome. Ammianus Marcellinus claims it was dedicated to Ramses, King of Egypt. It was brought to this city by Constantine the Great's son and is covered in hieroglyphics, serpents, men, owls, falcons, oxen, tools, etc., containing (as Father Kircher the Jesuit will soon explain in a book he’s about to publish) all the hidden and complex knowledge of that culture. The vessel, ship, or raft that carried it to Rome from so many hundreds of miles away must have been incredibly large and oddly built. The stone is solid and whole, and after being toppled, was re-erected by the renowned Fontana for that magnificent Pope, Sixtus V, along with the others; it is now cracked in several places but remains securely joined. The obelisk has the following inscriptions on its various faces:
On the second square:
On the second square:
Fl. Constantinus Max: Aug: Christianæ fidei Vindex & Assertor Obeliscum ab Ægyptio Rege impuro voto Soli dicatum, sedibus avulsum suis per Nilum transfer. Alexandriam, ut Novam Romam ab se tunc conditam eo decoraret monumento.
Fl. Constantinus Max: Aug: Defender and Upholder of the Christian Faith Carrying the obelisk, dedicated to the sun by the impure king of Egypt, uprooted from its original location and transported through the Nile to Alexandria, to decorate the New Rome he had established there.
On the third:
On the third:
Sextus V. Pontifex Max: Obeliscum hunc specie eximiâ temporum calamitate fractum, Circi Maximi ruinis humo, limoq; altè demersum, multâ impensâ extraxit, hunc in locum magno labore transtulit, formàq; pristinâ accuratè vestitum, Cruci invictissimæ dicavit anno M.D.LXXXVIII. Pont. IIII.
Sextus V, Pope: He pulled this obelisk out of the ground, which was broken by the calamities of the times and buried deeply among the ruins of the Circus Maximus, at great expense. He moved it to this location with great effort, restored it carefully to its original shape, and dedicated it to the invincible Cross in the year 1588, during his fourth year as pope.
On the fourth:
On the fourth of July.
Constantinus per Crucem Victor à Silvestro hìc Baptizatus Crucis gloriam propagavit.
Constantine, victorious through the Cross, was baptized by Silvester, spreading the glory of the Cross.
Leaving this wonderful monument (before which is a stately public fountain, with a statue of St. John in the middle of it), we visited His Holiness's palace, being a little on the left hand, the design of Fontana, architect to Sextus V. This I take to be one of the best palaces[Pg 125] in Rome; but not staying we entered the church of St. John di Laterano, which is properly the Cathedral of the Roman See, as I learned by these verses engraven upon the architrave of the portico:
Leaving this amazing monument (in front of which is a grand public fountain with a statue of St. John in the center), we visited the palace of His Holiness, which is slightly to the left. It was designed by Fontana, the architect for Sextus V. I consider this to be one of the best palaces[Pg 125] in Rome; but not staying long, we entered the church of St. John di Laterano, which is properly the Cathedral of the Roman See, as I learned from the verses engraved on the architrave of the portico:
So you, turned to the whole, with a humble prayer This house is yours; may it be an honored dwelling for you, Christ.
It is called Lateran, from a noble family formerly dwelling it seems hereabouts, on Mons Cælius. The church is Gothic, and hath a stately tribunal; the paintings are of Pietro Pisano. It was the first church that was consecrated with the ceremonies now introduced, and where altars of stone supplied those of wood heretofore in use, and made like large chests for the easier removal in times of persecution; such an altar is still the great one here preserved, as being that on which (they hold) St. Peter celebrated mass at Rome; for which reason none but the Pope may now presume to make that use of it. The pavement is of all sorts of precious marbles, and so are the walls to a great height, over which it is painted á fresco with the life and acts of Constantine the Great, by most excellent masters. The organs are rare, supported by four columns. The soffito is all richly gilded, and full of pictures. Opposite to the porta is an altar of exquisite architecture, with a tabernacle on it all of precious stones, the work of Targoni; on this is a cœna of plate, the invention of Curtius Vanni, of exceeding value; the tables hanging over it are of Giuseppe d'Arpino. About this are four excellent columns transported out of Asia by the Emperor Titus, of brass, double gilt, about twelve feet in height; the walls between them are incrusted with marble and set with statues in niches, the vacuum reported to be filled with holy earth, which St. Helena sent from Jerusalem to her son, Constantine, who set these pillars where they now stand. At one side of this is an oratory full of rare paintings and monuments, especially those of the great Connestábile Colonna. Out of this we came into the sacristia, full of good pictures of Albert and others. At the end of the church is a flat stone supported by four[Pg 126] pillars which they affirm to have been the exact height of our Blessed Savior, and say they never fitted any mortal man that tried it, but he was either taller or shorter; two columns of the veil of the Temple which rent at his passion; the stone on which they threw lots for his seamless vesture; and the pillar on which the cock crowed, after Peter's denial; and, to omit no fine thing, the just length of the Virgin Mary's foot as it seems her shoemaker affirmed! Here is a sumptuous cross, beset with precious stones, containing some of the VERY wood of the holy cross itself; with many other things of this sort: also numerous most magnificent monuments, especially those of St. Helena, of porphyry; Cardinal Farneze; Martin I., of copper; the pictures of Mary Magdalen, Martin V., Laurentius Valla, etc., are of Gaetano; the Nunciata, designed by M. Angelo; and the great crucifix of Sermoneta. In a chapel at one end of the porch is a statue of Henry IV. of France, in brass, standing in a dark hole, and so has done many years; perhaps from not believing him a thorough proselyte. The two famous œcumenical Councils were celebrated in this Church by Pope Simachus, Martin I., Stephen, etc.
It’s called Lateran, named after a noble family that used to live around here on Mons Cælius. The church is Gothic and has an impressive altar; the paintings are by Pietro Pisano. This was the first church that was consecrated with the ceremonies we use today, where stone altars replaced the wooden ones that were used before, designed like large chests for easier transport during times of persecution. One such altar, which is still preserved here, is believed to be the one on which St. Peter celebrated mass in Rome; for this reason, only the Pope is allowed to use it now. The floor is made from various kinds of precious marble, as are the walls, rising high, which are painted fresco-style with the life and acts of Constantine the Great, created by exceptional artists. The organs are unique, supported by four columns. The ceiling is lavishly gilded and filled with paintings. Across from the entrance is an altar of exquisite design, with a tabernacle made of precious stones, crafted by Targoni; on it is a silver communion plate, invented by Curtius Vanni, which is extremely valuable; the paintings hanging above it are by Giuseppe d'Arpino. Surrounding this are four remarkable columns brought from Asia by Emperor Titus, made of brass and double-gilded, standing about twelve feet tall; the walls between them are decorated with marble and fitted with statues in niches, allegedly filled with holy soil that St. Helena sent from Jerusalem to her son, Constantine, who placed these pillars where they are now. Next to this is a small chapel filled with rare paintings and monuments, especially those of the great Connestábile Colonna. From here, we moved into the sacristy, which is full of fine paintings by Albert and others. At the back of the church is a flat stone held up by four pillars, which they say is the exact height of our Blessed Savior, claiming that no mortal man who tried it ever fit perfectly; he was either taller or shorter. There are two columns from the Temple veil that tore during his passion, the stone on which they cast lots for his seamless garment, and the pillar on which the rooster crowed after Peter's denial; and to include everything, the exact length of the Virgin Mary's foot, as her shoemaker reportedly claimed! Here’s a lavish cross, adorned with precious stones, containing some of the actual wood from the holy cross itself; along with many other similar items: also numerous magnificent monuments, especially those of St. Helena made of porphyry; Cardinal Farneze; Martin I, made of copper; the paintings of Mary Magdalen, Martin V, Laurentius Valla, etc., by Gaetano; the Nunciata, designed by Michelangelo; and the large crucifix of Sermoneta. In a chapel at one end of the porch is a brass statue of Henry IV of France, standing in a dark corner for many years, possibly because he wasn’t fully trusted as a convert. The two famous ecumenical Councils were held in this church by Pope Simachus, Martin I, Stephen, etc.
Leaving this venerable church (for in truth it has a certain majesty in it), we passed through a fair and large hospital of good architecture, having some inscriptions put up by Barberini, the late Pope's nephew. We then went by St. Sylvia, where is a noble statue of St. Gregory P., begun by M. Angelo; a St. Andrew, and the bath of St. Cecilia. In this church are some rare paintings, especially that story on the wall of Guido Reni. Thence to St. Giovanni e Paula, where the friars are reputed to be great chemists. The choir, roof, and paintings in the tribuna are excellent.
Leaving this impressive church (it really has a certain grandeur to it), we walked by a beautiful and large hospital with good architecture, featuring some inscriptions put up by Barberini, the late Pope's nephew. Next, we passed St. Sylvia, which has a magnificent statue of St. Gregory the Great, started by Michelangelo; a statue of St. Andrew, and the bath of St. Cecilia. This church also houses some rare paintings, especially the mural by Guido Reni. Afterwards, we went to St. Giovanni e Paula, where the friars are known to be skilled chemists. The choir, the ceiling, and the artwork in the tribuna are outstanding.
Descending the Mons Cælius, we came against the vestiges of the Palazzo Maggiore, heretofore the Golden House of Nero; now nothing but a heap of vast and confused ruins, to show what time and the vicissitude of human things does change from the most glorious and magnificent to the most deformed and confused. We next went into St. Sebastian's Church, which has a handsome front: then we passed by the place where Romulus and Remus were taken up by Faustulus, the Forum[Pg 127] Romanum, and so by the edge of the Mons Palatinus; where we saw the ruins of Pompey's house, and the Church of St. Anacletus; and so into the Circus Maximus, heretofore capable of containing a hundred and sixty thousand spectators, but now all one entire heap of rubbish, part of it converted into a garden of pot herbs. We concluded this evening with hearing the rare voices and music at the Chiesa Nova.
Descending the Cælius Hill, we came across the remnants of the Palazzo Maggiore, once known as Nero's Golden House; now just a massive pile of chaotic ruins, showing how time and the ups and downs of humanity can transform the most glorious and magnificent into the most distorted and confused. We then entered St. Sebastian's Church, which has a beautiful facade, and passed by the site where Romulus and Remus were rescued by Faustulus, the Roman Forum, and along the edge of the Palatine Hill; where we saw the ruins of Pompey's house and the Church of St. Anacletus, and then into the Circus Maximus, once able to hold one hundred and sixty thousand spectators, but now just a huge mound of debris, part of which has turned into a garden for vegetables. We finished the evening by enjoying the amazing voices and music at Chiesa Nova.
21st November, 1644. I was carried to see a great virtuoso, Cavaliéro Pozzo, who showed us a rare collection of all kind of antiquities, and a choice library, over which are the effigies of most of our late men of polite literature. He had a great collection of the antique basso-relievos about Rome, which this curious man had caused to be designed in several folios: many fine medals; the stone which Pliny calls Enhydros; it had plainly in it the quantity of half a spoonful of water, of a yellow pebble color, of the bigness of a walnut. A stone paler than an amethyst, which yet he affirmed to be the true carbuncle, and harder than a diamond; it was set in a ring, without foil, or anything at the bottom, so as it was transparent, of a greenish yellow, more lustrous than a diamond. He had very pretty things painted on crimson velvet, designed in black, and shaded and heightened with white, set in frames; also a number of choice designs and drawings.
21st November, 1644. I was taken to meet a great artist, Cavaliéro Pozzo, who showed us an amazing collection of all kinds of antiques and a fantastic library, with portraits of most of our recent literary figures. He had an extensive collection of antique bas-reliefs from Rome, which this curious man had arranged in several folios; many beautiful medals; the stone that Pliny referred to as Enhydros; it contained about half a spoonful of water, yellow in color, about the size of a walnut. There was a stone lighter than an amethyst, which he claimed was the true carbuncle and harder than a diamond; it was set in a ring, without foil or any backing, making it transparent, with a greenish-yellow hue, more brilliant than a diamond. He also had lovely pieces painted on crimson velvet, designed in black, and shaded with white, framed beautifully; along with a variety of exquisite designs and drawings.
Hence we walked to the Suburra and Ærarium Saturni, where yet remain some ruins and an inscription. From thence to St. Pietro in vinculis, one of the seven churches on the Esquiline, an old and much-frequented place of great devotion for the relics there, especially the bodies of the seven Maccabean brethren, which lie under the altar. On the wall is a St. Sebastian, of mosaic, after the Greek manner: but what I chiefly regarded was, that noble sepulchre of Pope Julius II., the work of M. Angelo; with that never-sufficiently-to-be-admired statue of Moses, in white marble, and those of Vita Contemplativa and Activa, by the same incomparable hand. To this church belongs a monastery, in the court of whose cloisters grow two tall and very stately palm trees. Behind these, we walked a turn among the Baths of Titus, admiring the strange and prodigious receptacles for water, which the vulgar call the Setti Sali, now all in heaps.[Pg 128]
So we walked to the Suburra and the Temple of Saturn, where some ruins and an inscription still remain. From there, we made our way to St. Peter in Chains, one of the seven churches on the Esquiline Hill, a historic and popular site of great devotion for the relics, especially the bodies of the seven Maccabean brothers, which are buried under the altar. On the wall, there’s a mosaic of St. Sebastian in the Greek style; however, what caught my eye the most was the magnificent tomb of Pope Julius II, created by Michelangelo, featuring that ever-admired statue of Moses in white marble, along with the statues of Contemplative and Active Life, also by the same incredible artist. This church is connected to a monastery, in the courtyard of which stand two tall and impressive palm trees. Behind these, we took a stroll among the Baths of Titus, marveling at the strange and impressive water reservoirs that the locals call the Setti Sali, now all in ruins.[Pg 128]
22d November, 1644. Was the solemn and greatest ceremony of all the State Ecclesiastical, viz, the procession of the Pope (Innocent X.) to St. John di Laterano, which, standing on the steps of Ara Celi, near the Capitol, I saw pass in this manner:—First went a guard of Switzers to make way, and divers of the avant guard of horse carrying lances. Next followed those who carried the robes of the Cardinals, two and two; then the Cardinal's mace bearers; the caudatari, on mules; the masters of their horse; the Pope's barber, tailor, baker, gardener, and other domestic officers, all on horseback, in rich liveries; the squires belonging to the Guard; five men in rich liveries led five noble Neapolitan horses, white as snow, covered to the ground with trappings richly embroidered; which is a service paid by the King of Spain for the kingdoms of Naples and Sicily, pretended feudatories to the Pope; three mules of exquisite beauty and price, trapped in crimson velvet; next followed three rich litters with mules, the litters empty; the master of the horse alone, with his squires; five trumpeters; the armerieri estra muros; the fiscal and consistorial advocates; capellani, camerieri de honore, cubiculari and chamberlains, called secreti.
22nd November, 1644. It was the solemn and grandest ceremony of the entire State Ecclesiastical, specifically, the procession of Pope Innocent X to St. John di Laterano. From my position on the steps of Ara Celi, near the Capitol, I watched it unfold like this: First, a guard of Swiss soldiers cleared the way, followed by several mounted troops carrying lances. Next came those who carried the Cardinals' robes, two by two; then the Cardinal's mace bearers; the caudatari, on mules; the masters of the horse; the Pope’s barber, tailor, baker, gardener, and other household staff, all on horseback dressed in fancy attire; the squires of the Guard; five men in extravagant outfits leading five noble Neapolitan horses, as white as snow and adorned from head to hoof with richly embroidered trappings; this is a service paid by the King of Spain for the kingdoms of Naples and Sicily, which he claims as vassal territories of the Pope; three beautiful and expensive mules, draped in crimson velvet; then came three lavish litters carried by mules, which were empty; the master of the horse alone, with his squires; five trumpeters; the armerieri estra muros; the fiscal and consistorial advocates; capellani, camerieri de honore, cubiculari, and chamberlains known as secreti.
Then followed four other camerieri with four caps of the dignity-pontifical, which were Cardinals' hats carried on staves; four trumpets; after them a number of noble Romans and gentlemen of quality, very rich, and followed by innumerable staffiéri and pages; the secretaries of the chancellaria, abbreviatori-accoliti in their long robes, and on mules; auditori di rota; the dean of the rôti and master of the sacred palace, on mules, with grave but rich footclothes, and in flat episcopal hats; then went more of the Roman and other nobility and courtiers, with divers pages in most rich liveries on horseback; fourteen drums belonging to the Capitol; the marshals with their staves; the two syndics; the conservators of the city, in robes of crimson damask; the knight-gonfalonier and prior of the R. R., in velvet toques; six of his Holiness's mace bearers; then the captain, or governor, of the Castle of St. Angelo, upon a brave prancer; the governor of the city; on both sides of these two long ranks of Switzers, the masters of the ceremonies; the cross bearer on horseback, with two priests at each hand on foot; pages,[Pg 129] footmen, and guards, in abundance. Then came the Pope himself, carried in a litter, or rather open chair, of crimson velvet, richly embroidered, and borne by two stately mules; as he went he held up two fingers, blessing the multitude who were on their knees, or looking out of their windows and houses, with loud vivas and acclamations of felicity to their new Prince. This chair was followed by the master of his chamber, cup bearer, secretary, and physician; then came the Cardinal-Bishops, Cardinal-Priests, Cardinal-Deacons, Patriarchs, Archbishops, and Bishops, all in their several and distinct habits, some in red, others in green flat hats with tassels, all on gallant mules richly trapped with velvet, and led by their servants in great state and multitudes; after them, the apostolical protonotary, auditor, treasurer, and referendaries; lastly, the trumpets of the rear guard, two pages of arms in helmets with feathers, and carrying lances; two captains; the pontifical standard of the Church; the two alfieri, or cornets, of the Pope's light horse, who all followed in armor and carrying lances; which, with innumerable rich coaches, litters, and people, made up the procession. What they did at St. John di Laterano, I could not see, by reason of the prodigious crowd; so I spent most of the day in viewing the two triumphal arches which had been purposely erected a few days before, and till now covered; the one by the Duke of Parma, in the Foro Romano, the other by the Jews in the Capitol, with flattering inscriptions. They were of excellent architecture, decorated with statues and abundance of ornaments proper for the occasion, since they were but temporary, and made up of boards, cloth, etc., painted and framed on the sudden, but as to outward appearance, solid and very stately. The night ended with fireworks. What I saw was that which was built before the Spanish Ambassador's house, in the Piazza del Trinita, and another, before that of the French. The first appeared to be a mighty rock, bearing the Pope's Arms, a dragon, and divers figures, which being set on fire by one who flung a rocket at it, kindled immediately, yet preserving the figure both of the rock and statues a very long time; insomuch as it was deemed ten thousand reports of squibs and crackers spent themselves in order. That before the French Ambassador's Palace was a Diana[Pg 130] drawn in a chariot by her dogs, with abundance of other figures as large as the life, which played with fire in the same manner. In the meantime, the windows of the whole city were set with tapers put into lanterns, or sconces, of several colored oiled paper, that the wind might not annoy them; this rendered a most glorious show. Besides these, there were at least twenty other fireworks of vast charge and rare art for their invention before divers Ambassadors, Princes, and Cardinals' Palaces, especially that on the Castle of St. Angelo, being a pyramid of lights, of great height, fastened to the ropes and cables which support the standard pole. The streets were this night as light as day, full of bonfires, cannon roaring, music playing, fountains running wine, in all excess of joy and triumph.
Then came four other camerieri wearing four Cardinal hats on staves; four trumpets followed; after them, a number of wealthy Roman nobles and gentlemen, followed by countless staffiéri and pages; the secretaries of the chancellaria, abbreviatori-accoliti in their long robes and riding on mules; auditori di rota; the dean of the rôti and master of the sacred palace, also on mules, dressed formally with rich footclothes and flat episcopal hats; then came more Roman and other nobility and courtiers, along with various pages in lavish costumes on horseback; fourteen drums belonging to the Capitol; the marshals with their staves; the two syndics; the city's conservators, in crimson damask robes; the knight-gonfalonier and prior of the R. R., in velvet hats; six of the Pope’s mace bearers; then the captain, or governor, of the Castle of St. Angelo on a majestic horse; the city governor; flanked by long lines of Swiss guards; the masters of ceremonies; the cross bearer on horseback, with two priests walking beside him; pages,[Pg 129] footmen, and guards in abundance. Then came the Pope himself, carried in a handsome open chair of crimson velvet, richly embroidered, and borne by two grand mules; as he passed by, he held up two fingers, blessing the crowd kneeling or peering out from their windows and homes, with loud cheers and celebrations for their new Prince. This chair was followed by the master of his chamber, cup bearer, secretary, and physician; then came the Cardinal-Bishops, Cardinal-Priests, Cardinal-Deacons, Patriarchs, Archbishops, and Bishops, all in their distinct outfits, some in red, others in green flat hats with tassels, all on splendid mules adorned with velvet, led by their servants in great style and numbers; after them, the apostolical protonotary, auditor, treasurer, and referendaries; finally, the rear guard trumpets, two pages of arms in feathered helmets carrying lances; two captains; the pontifical standard of the Church; the two alfieri, or cornets, of the Pope's light horse, all in armor and carrying lances; along with countless lavish coaches, litters, and people, made up the procession. I couldn’t see what they did at St. John di Laterano because of the huge crowd; so I spent most of the day admiring the two triumphal arches that had been built a few days before and were covered until now, one by the Duke of Parma in the Foro Romano, the other by the Jews in the Capitol, adorned with flattering inscriptions. They were superbly designed, decorated with statues and plenty of ornaments suitable for the occasion, since they were temporary structures made of boards, cloth, and paint, but appeared solid and very impressive. The night concluded with fireworks. What I saw was set up in front of the Spanish Ambassador's house in the Piazza del Trinita, and another in front of the French Ambassador’s. The first looked like a massive rock displaying the Pope's Arms, a dragon, and various figures, which caught fire when someone shot a rocket at it, igniting quickly while maintaining the shape of the rock and statues for a long time; it seemed like the sounds of thousands of fireworks echoed in sequence. The display before the French Ambassador's Palace featured a Diana[Pg 130] drawn in a chariot by her dogs, along with many other life-sized figures that also lit up with fire. Meanwhile, all the city's windows were lit with candles placed in lanterns or sconces made of colored oiled paper to protect them from the wind, creating a dazzling sight. Additionally, there were at least twenty other elaborate fireworks displays for various Ambassadors, Princes, and Cardinals’ Palaces, especially the one at the Castle of St. Angelo, which was a tall pyramid of lights secured to the ropes and cables of the standard pole. The streets were as bright as day that night, filled with bonfires, booming cannons, live music, and fountains flowing with wine, celebrating in every excess of joy and triumph.
23d November, 1644. I went to the Jesuits' College again, the front whereof gives place to few for its architecture, most of its ornaments being of rich marble. It has within a noble portico and court, sustained by stately columns, as is the corridor over the portico, at the sides of which are the schools for arts and sciences, which are here taught as at the University. Here I heard Father Athanasius Kircher upon a part of Euclid, which he expounded. To this joins a glorious and ample church for the students; a second is not fully finished; and there are two noble libraries, where I was showed that famous wit and historian, Famianus Strada. Hence we went to the house of Hippolito Vitellesco (afterward bibliothecary of the Vatican library), who showed us one of the best collections of statues in Rome, to which he frequently talks as if they were living, pronouncing now and then orations, sentences, and verses, sometimes kissing and embracing them. He has a head of Brutus scarred in the face by order of the Senate for killing Julius; this is much esteemed. Also a Minerva, and others of great value. This gentleman not long since purchased land in the kingdom of Naples, in hope, by digging the ground, to find more statues; which it seems so far succeeded, as to be much more worth than the purchase. We spent the evening at the Chiesa Nova, where was excellent music; but, before that began, the courteous fathers led me into a nobly furnished library, contiguous to their most beautiful convent.[Pg 131]
23rd November, 1644. I visited the Jesuits' College again, which is impressive in its architecture, featuring many ornaments made of rich marble. Inside, there's a grand portico and courtyard held up by majestic columns, as well as a corridor over the portico. On either side are the schools for arts and sciences, taught here just like at the University. I listened to Father Athanasius Kircher explain a section of Euclid. Attached to this is a splendid and spacious church for the students; a second church is still under construction, and there are two excellent libraries, where I met the famous wit and historian, Famianus Strada. From there, we went to the house of Hippolito Vitellesco (later a bibliothecary for the Vatican library), who showed us one of the best collections of statues in Rome. He often speaks to them as if they were alive, occasionally reciting speeches, phrases, and verses, sometimes kissing and embracing them. He has a head of Brutus, marked by the Senate for killing Julius, which is highly valued. There's also a Minerva and other statues of great worth. This gentleman recently bought land in the kingdom of Naples, hoping to find more statues while digging; so far, this venture seems to have been quite successful, yielding much more value than the land's cost. We spent the evening at Chiesa Nova, where there was excellent music; but before that started, the kind fathers took me into a beautifully furnished library next to their lovely convent.[Pg 131]
28th November, 1644. I went to see the garden and house of the Aldobrandini, now Cardinal Borghese's. This palace is, for architecture, magnificence, pomp, and state, one of the most considerable about the city. It has four fronts, and a noble piazza before it. Within the courts, under arches supported by marble columns, are many excellent statues. Ascending the stairs, there is a rare figure of Diana, of white marble. The St. Sebastian and Hermaphrodite are of stupendous art. For paintings, our Savior's Head, by Correggio; several pieces of Raphael, some of which are small; some of Bassano Veronese; the Leda, and two admirable Venuses, are of Titian's pencil; so is the Psyche and Cupid; the head of St. John, borne by Herodias; two heads of Albert Durer, very exquisite. We were shown here a fine cabinet and tables of Florence work in stone. In the gardens are many fine fountains, the walls covered with citron trees, which, being rarely spread, invest the stone work entirely; and, toward the street, at a back gate, the port is so handsomely clothed with ivy as much pleased me. About this palace are many noble antique bassi-relievi: two especially are placed on the ground, representing armor, and other military furniture of the Romans; beside these, stand about the garden numerous rare statues, altars, and urns. Above all for antiquity and curiosity (as being the only rarity of that nature now known to remain) is that piece of old Roman painting representing the Roman Sponsalia, or celebration of their marriage, judged to be 1,400 years old, yet are the colors very lively, and the design very entire, though found deep in the ground. For this morsel of painting's sake only, it is said the Borghesi purchased the house, because this being on a wall in a kind of banqueting house in the garden, could not be removed, but passes with the inheritance.
November 28, 1644. I visited the garden and house of the Aldobrandini, now owned by Cardinal Borghese. This palace is one of the most impressive in terms of architecture, grandeur, and overall presence in the city. It has four facades and a grand piazza in front. Inside the courtyards, beneath arches supported by marble columns, there are many beautiful statues. As you ascend the stairs, there’s a stunning figure of Diana made of white marble. The St. Sebastian and Hermaphrodite are remarkable works of art. For paintings, there’s a depiction of our Savior’s Head by Correggio; several pieces by Raphael, some small; some by Bassano Veronese; the Leda, and two incredible Venuses by Titian, as well as Psyche and Cupid; the head of St. John held by Herodias; and two exquisite heads by Albert Durer. We were shown a lovely cabinet and tables made from Florence stonework. The gardens feature many beautiful fountains, and the walls are covered with citron trees, which grow unusually thick and entirely cover the stonework. Toward the street, at a back gate, the port is elegantly draped in ivy, which I found very pleasing. Surrounding this palace are many noble antique bas-reliefs: two in particular depict armor and other military equipment of the Romans, and scattered throughout the garden are numerous rare statues, altars, and urns. Most notable for its antiquity and curiosity is an old Roman painting representing the Roman Sponsalia, or wedding celebration, believed to be 1,400 years old; yet the colors are still very vibrant, and the design remains intact despite being found deep underground. It is said that the Borghesi purchased the house solely for this piece of painting, as it is located on a wall in a kind of banquet hall in the garden and could not be removed, thus becoming part of the inheritance.
29th November, 1644. I a second time visited the Medicean Palace, being near my lodging, the more exactly to have a view of the noble collections that adorn it, especially the bassi-relievi and antique friezes inserted about the stone work of the house. The Saturn, of metal, standing in the portico, is a rare piece; so is the Jupiter and Apollo, in the hall. We were now led into those rooms above we could not see before, full of incompar[Pg 132]able statues and antiquities; above all, and haply preferable to any in the world, are the Two Wrestlers, for the inextricable mixture with each other's arms and legs is stupendous. In the great chamber is the Gladiator, whetting a knife; but the Venus is without parallel, being the masterpiece of one whose name you see graven under it in old Greek characters; nothing in sculpture ever approached this miracle of art. To this add Marcius, Ganymede, a little Apollo playing on a pipe; some relievi incrusted on the palace-walls; and an antique vas of marble, near six feet high. Among the pictures may be mentioned the Magdalen and St. Peter, weeping. I pass over the cabinets and tables of pietra commessa, being the proper invention of the Florentines. In one of the chambers is a whimsical chair, which folded into so many varieties, as to turn into a bed, a bolster, a table, or a couch. I had another walk in the garden, where are two huge vases, or baths of stone.
29th November, 1644. I visited the Medicean Palace again since it was close to my place. I wanted a better look at the noble collections that embellish it, especially the bas-reliefs and antique friezes integrated into the stonework of the building. The metal statue of Saturn in the portico is a rare find; the same goes for the statues of Jupiter and Apollo in the hall. We were then taken into the upper rooms we hadn't seen before, filled with incomparable statues and antiquities; most notably, and perhaps better than any in the world, are the Two Wrestlers, where the entangled limbs are astonishing. In the large chamber is the Gladiator sharpening a knife; however, the Venus is unmatched, being the masterpiece of an artist whose name you can see engraved beneath it in ancient Greek letters; nothing in sculpture has ever compared to this work of art. Additionally, there’s Marcius, Ganymede, and a small Apollo playing a pipe; some reliefs embedded on the palace walls; and an antique marble vase, nearly six feet tall. Among the paintings, the Magdalen and St. Peter, both in tears, are noteworthy. I’ll skip mentioning the cabinets and tables made of pietra commessa, which is a unique creation of the Florentines. In one of the rooms, there’s a quirky chair that can fold into various forms, transforming into a bed, a bolster, a table, or a couch. I took another stroll in the garden, which has two large stone vases or baths.
I went further up the hill to the Pope's Palaces at Monte Cavallo, where I now saw the garden more exactly, and found it to be one of the most magnificent and pleasant in Rome. I am told the gardener is annually allowed 2,000 scudi for the keeping of it. Here I observed hedges of myrtle above a man's height; others of laurel, oranges, nay, of ivy and juniper; the close walks, and rustic grotto; a crypt, of which the laver, or basin, is of one vast, entire, antique porphyry, and below this flows a plentiful cascade; the steps of the grotto and the roofs being of rich Mosaic. Here are hydraulic organs, a fish pond, and an ample bath. From hence, we went to taste some rare Greco; and so home.
I went further up the hill to the Pope's Palaces at Monte Cavallo, where I could see the garden more clearly and found it to be one of the most magnificent and enjoyable in Rome. I'm told the gardener is given 2,000 scudi each year to maintain it. Here, I noticed hedges of myrtle taller than a man; others made of laurel, oranges, and even ivy and juniper; there were narrow pathways and a rustic grotto; a crypt, with a large, single, ancient porphyry basin, and below it flows a plentiful waterfall; the steps of the grotto and the roofs are made of rich Mosaic. There are hydraulic organs, a fish pond, and a large bath. From there, we went to sample some rare Greco, and then headed home.
Being now pretty weary of continual walking, I kept within, for the most part, till the 6th of December; and, during this time, I entertained one Signor Alessandro, who gave me some lessons on the theorbo.
Being pretty tired of walking all the time, I mostly stayed indoors until December 6th; during this time, I had the pleasure of hosting a gentleman named Alessandro, who taught me some lessons on the theorbo.
The next excursion was over the Tiber, which I crossed in a ferry-boat, to see the Palazzo di Ghisi, standing in Transtevere, fairly built, but famous only for the painting á fresco on the volto of the portico toward the garden; the story is the Amours of Cupid and Psyche, by the hand of the celebrated Raphael d'Urbino. Here you always see painters designing and copying after it, being esteemed one of the rarest pieces of that art in the[Pg 133] world; and with great reason. I must not omit that incomparable table of Galatea (as I remember), so carefully preserved in the cupboard at one of the ends of this walk, to protect it from the air, being a most lively painting. There are likewise excellent things of Baldassare, and others.
The next trip was across the Tiber, which I crossed by ferry to see the Palazzo di Ghisi, located in Trastevere. It’s well built but famous mainly for the fresco on the facade of the portico facing the garden; it depicts the story of Cupid and Psyche, painted by the renowned Raphael of Urbino. Artists are always seen sketching and copying from it, as it is regarded as one of the rarest pieces of art in the[Pg 133] world, and rightly so. I must also mention the incredible painting of Galatea (if I remember correctly), which is carefully kept in a cupboard at one end of this walkway to protect it from the air, as it is a very vibrant piece. There are also excellent works by Baldassare and others.
Thence we went to the noble house of the Duke of Bracciano, fairly built, with a stately court and fountain.
Then we went to the grand house of the Duke of Bracciano, well-constructed, with an impressive courtyard and fountain.
Next, we walked to St. Mary's Church, where was the Taberna Meritoria, where the old Roman soldiers received their triumphal garland, which they ever after wore. The high altar is very fair, adorned with columns of porphyry: here is also some mosaic work about the choir, and the Assumption is an esteemed piece. It is said that this church was the first that was dedicated to the Virgin at Rome. In the opposite piazza is a very sumptuous fountain.
Next, we walked to St. Mary's Church, where the Taberna Meritoria was located, where the old Roman soldiers received their triumphal garland, which they wore for the rest of their lives. The high altar is quite beautiful, decorated with columns of porphyry. There's also some mosaic work around the choir, and the Assumption is a highly regarded piece. It is said that this church was the first dedicated to the Virgin in Rome. In the opposite square, there's a very lavish fountain.
12th December, 1644. I went again to St. Peter's to see the chapels, churches, and grots under the whole church (like our St. Faith's under Paul's), in which lie interred a multitude of Saints, Martyrs, and Popes; among them our countryman, Adrian IV., (Nicholas Brekespere) in a chest of porphyry; Sir J. Chrysostom; Petronella; the heads of St. James minor, St. Luke, St. Sebastian, and our Thomas à Becket; a shoulder of St. Christopher; an arm of Joseph of Arimathea; Longinus; besides 134 more bishops, soldiers, princes, scholars, cardinals, kings, emperors, their wives; too long to particularize.
12th December, 1644. I went back to St. Peter's to check out the chapels, churches, and grottoes beneath the entire church (like St. Faith's under St. Paul's), where a large number of Saints, Martyrs, and Popes are buried; among them our fellow countryman, Adrian IV. (Nicholas Brekespere), in a porphyry chest; Sir J. Chrysostom; Petronella; the heads of St. James the Less, St. Luke, St. Sebastian, and our Thomas à Becket; a shoulder of St. Christopher; an arm of Joseph of Arimathea; Longinus; as well as 134 more bishops, soldiers, princes, scholars, cardinals, kings, emperors, and their wives; too many to list individually.
Hence we walked into the cemetery, called Campo Santo, the earth consisting of several ship-loads of mold, transported from Jerusalem, which consumes a carcass in twenty-four hours. To this joins that rare hospital, where once was Nero's circus; the next to this is the Inquisition-house and prison, the inside whereof, I thank God, I was not curious to see. To this joins His Holiness's Horseguards.
Hence, we walked into the cemetery known as Campo Santo, the ground made up of several loads of soil brought over from Jerusalem, which can decompose a body in twenty-four hours. Next to that is the rare hospital that was once Nero's circus; beside it is the Inquisition house and prison, which I’m thankful I didn’t feel the need to see. Next to this is His Holiness's Horseguards.
On Christmas-eve, I went not to bed, being desirous of seeing the many extraordinary ceremonies performed then in their churches, at midnight masses and sermons. I walked from church to church the whole night in admiration at the multitude of scenes and pageantry which the friars had with much industry and craft set out, to[Pg 134] catch the devout women and superstitious sort of people, who never parted without dropping some money into a vessel set on purpose; but especially observable was the puppetry in the Church of the Minerva, representing the Nativity. I thence went and heard a sermon at the Apollinare; by which time it was morning. On Christmas-day his Holiness sang mass, the artillery of St. Angelo went off, and all this day was exposed the cradle of our Lord.
On Christmas Eve, I stayed up instead of going to bed because I wanted to witness the many amazing ceremonies happening in the churches during the midnight masses and sermons. I walked from church to church all night, in awe of the variety of scenes and elaborate displays that the friars had set up with great effort and skill to[Pg 134] attract devout women and superstitious people, who always left some money in a designated vessel; but the most striking was the puppet show in the Church of the Minerva, depicting the Nativity. After that, I went to hear a sermon at the Apollinare; by then, it was morning. On Christmas Day, his Holiness celebrated mass, the artillery at St. Angelo fired, and the cradle of our Lord was displayed all day long.
29th December, 1644. We were invited by the English Jesuits to dinner, being their great feast of Thomas [à Becket] of Canterbury. We dined in their common refectory, and afterward saw an Italian comedy acted by their alumni before the Cardinals.
29th December, 1644. We were invited by the English Jesuits to dinner, celebrating their major feast of Thomas [à Becket] of Canterbury. We had dinner in their common dining hall, and afterward, we watched an Italian comedy performed by their students for the Cardinals.
January, 1645. We saw pass the new officers of the people of Rome; especially, for their noble habits were most conspicuous, the three Consuls, now called Conservators, who take their places in the Capitol, having been sworn the day before between the hands of the Pope. We ended the day with the rare music at the Chiesa Nova.
January, 1645. We watched the new officers of the people of Rome pass by; their noble attire was especially striking, particularly the three Consuls, now known as Conservators, who took their places in the Capitol after being sworn in the day before in front of the Pope. We ended the day with the beautiful music at Chiesa Nova.
6th January, 1645. Was the ceremony of our Savior's baptism in the Church of St. Athanasius, and at Ara Celi was a great procession, del Bambino, as they call it, where were all the magistrates, and a wonderful concourse of people.
6th January, 1645. It was the ceremony of our Savior's baptism at the Church of St. Athanasius, and at Ara Celi, there was a grand procession, del Bambino, as they call it, attended by all the magistrates and a huge gathering of people.
7th January, 1645. A sermon was preached to the Jews, at Ponte Sisto, who are constrained to sit till the hour is done; but it is with so much malice in their countenances, spitting, humming, coughing, and motion, that it is almost impossible they should hear a word from the preacher. A conversion is very rare.
7th January, 1645. A sermon was delivered to the Jews at Ponte Sisto, who are forced to sit until it’s over; however, their faces show such anger, with spitting, humming, coughing, and fidgeting, that it’s almost impossible for them to hear a single word from the preacher. Conversions are quite rare.
14th January, 1645. The heads of St. Peter and St. Paul are exposed at St. John Laterano.
14th January, 1645. The heads of St. Peter and St. Paul are on display at St. John Lateran.
15th January, 1645. The zitelle, or young wenches, which are to have portions given them by the Pope, being poor, and to marry them, walked in procession to St. Peter's, where the Veronica was shown.
15th January, 1645. The zitelle, or young women, who are to receive dowries from the Pope, being poor and ready to get married, walked in procession to St. Peter's, where the Veronica was displayed.
I went to the Ghetto, where the Jews dwell as in a suburb by themselves; being invited by a Jew of my acquaintance to see a circumcision. I passed by the Piazza Judea, where their seraglio begins; for, being environed with walls, they are locked up every night.[Pg 135] In this place remains yet part of a stately fabric, which my Jew told me had been a palace of theirs for the ambassador of their nation, when their country was subject to the Romans. Being led through the Synagogue into a private house, I found a world of people in a chamber: by and by came an old man, who prepared and laid in order divers instruments brought by a little child of about seven years old in a box. These the man laid in a silver basin; the knife was much like a short razor to shut into the half. Then they burnt some incense in a censer, which perfumed the room all the while the ceremony was performing. In the basin was a little cap made of white paper like a capuchin's hood, not bigger than the finger: also a paper of a red astringent powder, I suppose of bole; a small instrument of silver, cleft in the middle at one end, to take up the prepuce withal; a fine linen cloth wrapped up. These being all in order, the women brought the infant swaddled, out of another chamber, and delivered it to the Rabbi, who carried and presented it before an altar, or cupboard, dressed up, on which lay the five Books of Moses, and the Commandments, a little unrolled. Before this, with profound reverence, and mumbling a few words, he waved the child to and fro awhile; then he delivered it to another Rabbi, who sat all this time upon a table. While the ceremony was performing, all the company fell singing a Hebrew hymn, in a barbarous tone, waving themselves to and fro; a ceremony they observe in all their devotions.—The Jews in Rome all wear yellow hats, live only upon brokage and usury, very poor and despicable, beyond what they are in other territories of Princes where they are permitted.
I went to the Ghetto, where the Jews live separately, invited by a Jewish friend to witness a circumcision. I passed by the Piazza Judea, where their community begins; surrounded by walls, they are locked in every night.[Pg 135] In this place, part of a grand structure still remains, which my Jewish friend told me used to be a palace for their ambassador when their country was under Roman rule. Led through the Synagogue into a private house, I found a large gathering in a room. Soon, an old man arrived, preparing and arranging various tools brought by a young child of about seven years old in a box. The man placed these in a silver basin; the knife resembled a small folding razor. They burned some incense in a censer, filling the room with fragrance while the ceremony was taking place. In the basin was a little cap made of white paper resembling a capuchin's hood, not bigger than a finger. There was also a packet of red astringent powder, probably bole; a small silver tool, split at one end, to grasp the foreskin; and a fine linen cloth wrapped up. With everything in order, the women brought out the swaddled infant from another room and handed it to the Rabbi, who presented it before an altar or cupboard adorned with the five Books of Moses and the Commandments, slightly unrolled. With deep reverence and some mumbling, he rocked the child back and forth for a while, then handed it to another Rabbi sitting at a table. While the ceremony continued, everyone in attendance began singing a Hebrew hymn in a rough tone, swaying back and forth; a practice they follow in all their prayers. The Jews in Rome all wear yellow hats, survive on a mix of trade and usury, and are quite poor and looked down upon, more so than in other territories where they are allowed to live.
18th January, 1645. I went to see the Pope's Palace, the Vatican, where he for the most part keeps his Court. It was first built by Pope Symmachus, and since augmented to a vast pile of building by his successors. That part of it added by Sextus V. is most magnificent. This leads us into divers terraces arched sub dio, painted by Raphael with the histories of the Bible, so esteemed, that artists come from all parts of Europe to make their studies from these designs. The foliage and grotesque about some of the compartments are admirable. In another room are represented at large, maps and plots of most countries in[Pg 136] the world, in vast tables, with brief descriptions. The stairs which ascend out of St. Peter's portico into the first hall, are rarely contrived for ease; these lead into the hall of Gregory XIII., the walls whereof, half way to the roof, are incrusted with most precious marbles of various colors and works. So is also the pavement inlaid work; but what exceeds description is, the volta, or roof itself, which is so exquisitely painted, that it is almost impossible for the skillfullest eyes to discern whether it be the work of the pencil upon a flat, or of a tool cut deep in stone. The Rota dentata, in this admirable perspective, on the left hand as one goes out, the Setella, etc., are things of art incomparable. Certainly this is one of the most superb and royal apartments in the world, much too beautiful for a guard of gigantic Switzers, who do nothing but drink and play at cards in it. Going up these stairs is a painting of St. Peter, walking on the sea toward our Savior.
18th January, 1645. I visited the Pope's Palace, the Vatican, where he mainly holds his court. It was originally constructed by Pope Symmachus and has since been expanded into a massive building by his successors. The section added by Sextus V. is particularly stunning. This area features multiple terraces arched sub dio, painted by Raphael with stories from the Bible, which are so highly regarded that artists come from all over Europe to study these designs. The foliage and grotesque details in some of the sections are remarkable. In another room, you'll find large maps and plans of most countries in[Pg 136] the world, displayed on vast panels with brief descriptions. The stairs leading from St. Peter's portico into the first hall are designed for comfort; they lead into the hall of Gregory XIII., whose walls are adorned halfway to the ceiling with precious marbles of various colors and designs. The flooring also features intricate inlaid work, but what is beyond description is the volta, or ceiling itself, which is painted so exquisitely that it's nearly impossible for even the most skilled eyes to tell if it's a flat painting or deeply carved in stone. The Rota dentata, in this amazing perspective on the left side as you exit, the Setella, etc., are works of unmatched artistry. This is truly one of the most magnificent and royal spaces in the world, far too beautiful for a guard of gigantic Swiss soldiers, who do nothing but drink and play cards in it. Ascending these stairs, there’s a painting of St. Peter walking on the sea towards our Savior.
Out of this I went into another hall, just before the chapel, called the Sàla del Conclave, full of admirable paintings; among others is the Assassination of Coligni, the great [Protestant] French Admiral, murdered by the Duke of Guise, in the Parisian massacre at the nuptials of Henry IV, with Queen Margaret; under it is written, "Coligni et sociorum cædes:" on the other side, "Rex Coligi necem probat."
Out of this, I entered another hall, just before the chapel, called the Sàla del Conclave, which is filled with amazing paintings. Among them is the Assassination of Coligni, the great Protestant French Admiral, who was murdered by the Duke of Guise during the Paris massacre at the wedding of Henry IV and Queen Margaret. Underneath, it is written, "Coligni et sociorum cædes:" on the other side, "Rex Coligi necem probat."
There is another very large picture, under which is inscribed:
There is another very large picture, underneath which is inscribed:
"Alexander Papa III., Frederici Primi Imperatoris iram et impetum fugiens, abdidit se Venetijs; cognitum et à senatu perhonorificè susceptum, Othone Imperatoris filio navali prælio victo captoq; Fredericus, pace facta, supplex adorat; fidem et obedientiam pollicitus. Ita Pontifici sua dignitas Venet. Reip. beneficio restituta MCLXXVIII."24
"Alexander III, fleeing the anger and assault of Emperor Frederick I, hid himself in Venice; having been recognized and honorably received by the Senate, he defeated the son of Emperor Otto in a naval battle and captured him; Frederick, having made peace, humbly implored him, promising faith and obedience. Thus, the Pope's dignity was restored by the benefit of the Venetian Republic in 1178."24
This inscription I the rather took notice of, because Urban VIII. had caused it to be blotted out during the difference between him and that State; but it was now restored and refreshed by his successor, to the great honor[Pg 137] of the Venetians. The Battle of Lepanto is another fair piece here.
This inscription caught my attention because Urban VIII had it removed during his conflict with that State; however, it has now been restored and renewed by his successor, to the great honor[Pg 137] of the Venetians. The Battle of Lepanto is another remarkable feature here.
Now we came into the Pope's chapel, so much celebrated for the Last Judgment painted by M. Angelo Buonarotti. It is a painting in fresco, upon a dead wall at the upper end of the chapel, just over the high altar, of a vast design and miraculous fancy, considering the multitude of naked figures and variety of posture. The roof also is full of rare work. Hence, we went into the sacristia where were showed all the most precious vestments, copes, and furniture of the chapel. One priestly cope, with the whole suite, had been sent from one of our English Henrys, and is shown for a great rarity. There were divers of the Pope's pantoufles that are kissed on his foot, having rich jewels embroidered on the instep, covered with crimson velvet; also his tiara, or triple crown, divers miters, crosiers, etc., all bestudded with precious stones, gold, and pearl, to a very great value; a very large cross, carved (as they affirm) out of the holy wood itself; numerous utensils of crystal, gold, agate, amber, and other costly materials for the altar.
Now we entered the Pope's chapel, famous for the Last Judgment painted by Michelangelo Buonarotti. It’s a fresco on a solid wall at the far end of the chapel, right above the high altar, featuring a grand design and incredible imagination, especially considering the multitude of naked figures and the variety of poses. The ceiling is also filled with exquisite artwork. After that, we went into the sacristia where we saw all the most precious vestments, copes, and furnishings of the chapel. One priestly cope, along with the entire set, was sent by one of our English kings named Henry and is displayed as a great rarity. There were several pairs of the Pope’s slippers, which are kissed on his foot, adorned with rich jewels embroidered on the instep, covered in crimson velvet; also his tiara, or triple crown, various miters, crosiers, etc., all decorated with precious stones, gold, and pearls to a very high value; a very large cross, claimed to be carved from the holy wood itself; and numerous utensils made of crystal, gold, agate, amber, and other expensive materials for the altar.
We then went into those chambers painted with the Histories of the burning of Rome, quenched by the procession of a Crucifix; the victory of Constantine over Maxentius; St. Peter's delivery out of Prison; all by Julio Romano, and are therefore called the Painters' Academy, because you always find some young men or other designing from them: a civility which is not refused in Italy, where any rare pieces of the old and best masters are extant, and which is the occasion of breeding up many excellent men in that profession.
We then entered the rooms adorned with paintings depicting the burning of Rome, extinguished by a procession carrying a Crucifix; the victory of Constantine over Maxentius; and St. Peter’s release from prison, all created by Julio Romano. These rooms are called the Painters' Academy because you can always find young artists drawing from these works. This practice is welcomed in Italy, where rare pieces from the old masters are available, and it’s a reason many talented individuals grow in that field.
The Sala Clementina's Suffito is painted by Cherubin Alberti, with an ample landscape of Paul Bril's.
The ceiling of the Sala Clementina is painted by Cherubin Alberti, featuring a wide landscape by Paul Bril.
We were then conducted into a new gallery, whose sides were painted with views of the most famous places, towns, and territories in Italy, rarely done, and upon the roof the chief Acts of the Roman Church since St. Peter's pretended See there. It is doubtless one of the most magnificent galleries in Europe.—Out of this we came into the Consistory, a noble room, the volta painted in grotesque, as I remember. At the upper end, is an elevated throne and a baldachin, or canopy of state, for his Holiness, over it.[Pg 138]
We were then led into a new gallery, with walls decorated with images of the most famous places, towns, and regions in Italy, which is rare to see, and on the ceiling, the main acts of the Roman Church since St. Peter's pretend See there. It's definitely one of the most magnificent galleries in Europe. From there, we entered the Consistory, a grand room with the ceiling painted in a grotesque style, if I remember correctly. At the far end is an elevated throne with a canopy of state for his Holiness above it.[Pg 138]
From thence, through a very long gallery (longer, I think, than the French Kings at the Louvre), but only of bare walls, we were brought into the Vatican Library. This passage was now full of poor people, to each of whom, in his passage to St. Peter's, the Pope gave a mezzo grosse. I believe they were in number near 1,500 or 2,000 persons.
From there, we walked through a very long hallway (longer, I think, than the French Kings at the Louvre), but it only had bare walls. We were taken into the Vatican Library. This passage was now crowded with poor people, each of whom, on their way to St. Peter's, received a mezzo grosse from the Pope. I believe there were about 1,500 or 2,000 of them.
This library is the most nobly built, furnished, and beautified of any in the world; ample, stately, light, and cheerful, looking into a most pleasant garden. The walls and roof are painted, not with antiques and grotesques, like our Bodleian at Oxford, but emblems, figures, diagrams, and the like learned inventions, found out by the wit and industry of famous men, of which there are now whole volumes extant. There were likewise the effigies of the most illustrious men of letters and fathers of the church, with divers noble statues, in white marble, at the entrance, viz, Hippolytus and Aristides. The General Councils are painted on the side walls. As to the ranging of the books, they are all shut up in presses of wainscot, and not exposed on shelves to the open air, nor are the most precious mixed among the more ordinary, which are showed to the curious only; such are those two Virgils written on parchment, of more than a thousand years old; the like, a Terence; the "Acts of the Apostles" in golden capital letters; Petrarch's "Epigrams," written with his own hand; also a Hebrew parchment, made up in the ancient manner, from whence they were first called "Volumina", with the Cornua; but what we English do much inquire after, the book which our Henry VIII. writ against Luther.25
This library is the most beautifully constructed, furnished, and decorated of any in the world; spacious, grand, bright, and inviting, overlooking a lovely garden. The walls and ceiling are painted, not with old designs and weird figures like our Bodleian at Oxford, but with symbols, figures, diagrams, and other smart creations devised by the intellect and effort of renowned individuals, of which there are now whole volumes available. There were also statues of the most distinguished scholars and church fathers, along with various noble statues in white marble at the entrance, such as Hippolytus and Aristides. The General Councils are depicted on the side walls. As for the arrangement of the books, they are all stored in wooden cases, not displayed on shelves to the open air, nor are the most valuable ones mixed in with the more common ones, which are shown only to the curious; these include two copies of Virgil written on parchment, over a thousand years old; a similar one from Terence; the "Acts of the Apostles" in golden capital letters; Petrarch's "Epigrams," written in his own handwriting; and also a Hebrew parchment made in the ancient style, from which they were first called "Volumina", with the Cornua; however, what we English are most interested in is the book that our Henry VIII wrote against Luther.25
The largest room is 100 paces long; at the end is the gallery of printed books; then the gallery of the Duke of Urban's library, in which are MSS. of remarkable minia[Pg 139]ture, and divers Chinese, Mexican, Samaritan, Abyssinian, and other oriental books.
The largest room is 100 steps long; at the end is the gallery of printed books; then the gallery of the Duke of Urban's library, which contains manuscripts with remarkable miniatures, as well as various Chinese, Mexican, Samaritan, Abyssinian, and other Eastern books.
In another wing of the edifice, 200 paces long, were all the books taken from Heidelberg, of which the learned Gruter, and other great scholars, had been keepers. These walls and volte are painted with representations of the machines invented by Domenico Fontana for erection of the obelisks; and the true design of Mahomet's sepulchre at Mecca.
In another section of the building, 200 steps long, were all the books taken from Heidelberg, which the knowledgeable Gruter and other great scholars had managed. These walls and volte are decorated with images of the machines invented by Domenico Fontana for raising the obelisks and the actual design of Muhammad's tomb in Mecca.
Out of this we went to see the Conclave, where, during a vacancy, the Cardinals are shut up till they are agreed upon a new election; the whole manner whereof was described to us.
Out of this, we went to see the Conclave, where, during a vacancy, the Cardinals are locked away until they agree on a new election; the entire process was explained to us.
Hence we went into the Pope's Armory, under the library. Over the door is this inscription:
Hence we went into the Pope's Armory, under the library. Over the door is this inscription:
"URBANUS VIII. LITTERIS ARMA, ARMA LITTERIS."
"URBANUS VIII. LETTERS ARM, ARM LETTERS."
I hardly believe any prince in Europe is able to show a more completely furnished library of Mars, for the quality and quantity, which is 40,000 complete for horse and foot, and neatly kept. Out of this we passed again by the long gallery, and at the lower end of it down a very large pair of stairs, round, without any steps as usually, but descending with an evenness so ample and easy, that a horse-litter, or coach, may with ease be drawn up; the sides of the vacuity are set with columns: those at Amboise, on the Loire, in France, are something of this invention, but nothing so spruce. By these, we descended into the Vatican gardens, called Belvedere, where entering first into a kind of court, we were showed those incomparable statues (so famed by Pliny and others) of Laocoon with his three sons embraced by a huge serpent, all of one entire Parian stone, very white and perfect, somewhat bigger than the life, the work of those three celebrated sculptors, Agesandrus, Polydorus, and Artemidorus, Rhodians; it was found among the ruins of Titus's baths, and placed here. Pliny says this statue is to be esteemed before all pictures and statues in the world; and I am of his opinion, for I never beheld anything of art approach it. Here are also those two famous images of Nilus with the children playing about him, and that of Tiber; Romulus and Remus with the Wolf; the dying Cleopatra; the Venus and Cupid, rare pieces;[Pg 140] the Mercury; Cybel; Hercules; Apollo; Antinous: most of which are, for defense against the weather, shut up in niches with wainscot doors. We were likewise showed the relics of the Hadrian Moles, viz, the Pine, a vast piece of metal which stood on the summit of that mausoleum; also a peacock of copper, supposed to have been part of Scipio's monument.
I can hardly believe any prince in Europe could have a more fully stocked library of Mars, both in quality and quantity: 40,000 complete sets for horse and foot, all neatly organized. From there, we passed through the long gallery and down a very wide set of stairs, round and without typical steps, but descending so smoothly and easily that a horse litter or carriage could be drawn up without trouble. The sides of the space are lined with columns: those at Amboise on the Loire in France are similar, but not nearly as elegant. We descended into the Vatican gardens, known as Belvedere, where we entered a kind of courtyard and were shown the amazing statues (so famous from Pliny and others) of Laocoon with his three sons being wrapped by a giant serpent, all carved from a single block of white Parian stone, slightly larger than life, created by the three renowned sculptors, Agesandrus, Polydorus, and Artemidorus, who were from Rhodes; it was found among the ruins of Titus's baths and placed here. Pliny claims this statue should be valued above all other art in the world, and I agree, as I have never seen anything in art come close to it. Here, you can also find the two famous images of Nilus with children playing around him, and that of Tiber; Romulus and Remus with the Wolf; the dying Cleopatra; the Venus and Cupid, rare pieces; the Mercury; Cybel; Hercules; Apollo; Antinous; most of which are protected from the weather, tucked away in niches with wooden doors. We were also shown the relics of the Hadrian Moles, including the Pine, a massive piece of metal that stood at the top of that mausoleum; also a copper peacock, thought to have been part of Scipio's monument.
In the garden without this (which contains a vast circuit of ground) are many stately fountains, especially two casting water into antique lavers, brought from Titus's baths; some fair grots and water-works, that noble cascade where the ship dances, with divers other pleasant inventions, walks, terraces, meanders, fruit trees, and a most goodly prospect over the greatest part of the city. One fountain under the gate I must not omit, consisting of three jettos of water gushing out of the mouths or proboscides of bees (the arms of the late Pope), because of the inscription:
In the garden, which has a large area, there are many impressive fountains, especially two that spout water into ancient basins taken from Titus's baths. There are beautiful grottos and water features, including a grand cascade where a boat floats, along with many other delightful creations, paths, terraces, winding paths, fruit trees, and a lovely view over most of the city. I can't forget to mention one fountain at the gate, which has three streams of water shooting out from the mouths of bees (the emblem of the late Pope), due to the inscription:
"If sweet water flows from your throat."
23d January, 1645. We went without the walls of the city to visit St. Paul's, to which place it is said the Apostle bore his own head after Nero had caused it to be cut off. The church was founded by the great Constantine; the main roof is supported by 100 vast columns of marble, and the Mosaic work of the great arch is wrought with a very ancient story Aº 440; as is likewise that of the facciata. The gates are brass, made at Constantinopole in 1070, as you may read by those Greek verses engraven on them. The church is near 500 feet long and 258 in breadth, and has five great aisles joined to it, on the basis of one of whose columns is this odd title: "Fl. Eugenius Asellus C. C. Præf. Urbis V. S. I. reparavit." Here they showed us that miraculous Crucifix which they say spake to St. Bridget: and, just before the Ciborio, stand two excellent statues. Here are buried part of the bodies of St. Paul and St. Peter. The pavement is richly interwoven with precious Oriental marbles about the high altar, where are also four excellent paintings, whereof one, representing the stoning of St. Stephen, is by the hand of a Bolognian lady, named Lavinia. The tabernacle on this altar is of excellent architecture, and the[Pg 141] pictures in the Chapel del Sacramento are of Lanfranco. Divers other relics there be also in this venerable church, as a part of St. Anna; the head of the Woman of Samaria; the chain which bound St. Paul, and the eculeus used in tormenting the primitive Christians. The church stands in the Via Ositensis, about a mile from the walls of the city, separated from many buildings near it except the Trie Fontana, to which (leaving our coach) we walked, going over the mountain or little rising, upon which story says a hundred seventy and four thousand Christians had been martyred by Maximianus, Dioclesian, and other bloody tyrants. On this stand St. Vincent's and St. Anastasius; likewise the Church of St. Maria Scala del Cielo, in whose Tribuna is a very fair Mosaic work. The Church of the Trie Fontana (as they are called) is perfectly well built, though but small (whereas that of St. Paul is but Gothic), having a noble cupola in the middle; in this they show the pillar to which St. Paul was bound, when his head was cut off, and from whence it made three prodigious leaps, where there immediately broke out the three remaining fountains, which give denomination to this church. The waters are reported to be medicinal: over each is erected an altar and a chained ladle, for better tasting of the waters. That most excellent picture of St. Peter's Crucifixion is of Guido.
23rd January, 1645. We went outside the city walls to visit St. Paul's, where it's said the Apostle carried his own head after Nero had it cut off. The church was founded by the great Constantine; its main roof is supported by 100 massive marble columns, and the mosaic work of the great arch tells a very ancient story Aº 440, just like that of the facciata. The gates are made of brass, produced in Constantinople in 1070, as indicated by the Greek verses engraved on them. The church is nearly 500 feet long and 258 feet wide, with five large aisles attached. On the base of one of its columns is this strange title: "Fl. Eugenius Asellus C. C. Præf. Urbis V. S. I. reparavit." Here they showed us the miraculous crucifix that is said to have spoken to St. Bridget; and just before the Ciborio, there are two excellent statues. Part of the bodies of St. Paul and St. Peter are buried here. The pavement is beautifully interwoven with precious Oriental marbles around the high altar, which also features four impressive paintings, one of which, depicting the stoning of St. Stephen, is by a Bolognian lady named Lavinia. The tabernacle on this altar has excellent architecture, and the[Pg 141] pictures in the Chapel del Sacramento are by Lanfranco. There are various other relics in this venerable church, including a part of St. Anna, the head of the Woman of Samaria, the chain that bound St. Paul, and the eculeus used to torture the early Christians. The church is located on the Via Ositensis, about a mile from the city walls, separated from many nearby buildings except for the Trie Fontana, to which we walked, leaving our carriage, and crossing the hill where it is said that 174,000 Christians were martyred by Maximianus, Dioclesian, and other brutal tyrants. On this hill stand St. Vincent's and St. Anastasius; also, the Church of St. Maria Scala del Cielo, which has a very beautiful mosaic work in its Tribuna. The Church of the Trie Fontana (as they are called) is very well constructed, though small (unlike that of St. Paul, which is rather Gothic), boasting a grand dome in the center; within it, they show the pillar to which St. Paul was bound when his head was cut off, and from which it supposedly made three miraculous leaps, causing the three fountains to spring up that give the church its name. The waters are said to have healing properties: an altar is erected over each fountain with a chained ladle for easier tasting of the waters. The remarkable painting of St. Peter's Crucifixion is by Guido.
25th January, 1645. I went again to the Palazzo Farnese, to see some certain statues and antiquities which, by reason of the Major-Domo not being within, I could not formerly obtain. In the hall stands that triumphant Colosse of one of the family, upon three figures, a modern, but rare piece. About it stood some Gladiators; and, at the entrance into one of the first chambers, are two cumbent figures of Age and Youth, brought hither from St. Peter's to make room for the Longinus under the cupola. Here was the statue of a ram running at a man on horseback, a most incomparable expression of Fury, cut in stone; and a table of pietra-commessa, very curious. The next chamber was all painted a fresco, by a rare hand, as was the carving in wood of the ceiling, which, as I remember, was in cedar, as the Italian mode is, and not poor plaster, as ours are; some of them most richly gilt. In a third room, stood the famous Venus, and the child Hercules strangling a serpent, of Corinthian brass,[Pg 142] antique, on a very curious basso-relievo; the sacrifice to Priapus; the Egyptian Isis, in the hard, black ophite stone, taken out of the Pantheon, greatly celebrated by the antiquaries: likewise two tables of brass, containing divers old Roman laws. At another side of this chamber, was the statue of a wounded Amazon falling from her horse, worthy the name of the excellent sculptor, whoever the artist was. Near this was a bass-relievo of a Bacchanalia, with a most curious Silenus. The fourth room was totally environed with statues; especially observable was that so renowned piece of a Venus looking backward over her shoulder, and divers other naked figures, by the old Greek masters. Over the doors are two Venuses, one of them looking on her face in a glass, by M. Angelo; the other is painted by Caracci. I never saw finer faces, especially that under the mask, whose beauty and art are not to be described by words. The next chamber is also full of statues; most of them the heads of Philosophers, very antique. One of the Cæsars and another of Hannibal cost 1,200 crowns. Now I had a second view of that never-to-be-sufficiently-admired gallery, painted in deep relievo, the work of ten years' study, for a trifling reward. In the wardrobe above they showed us fine wrought plate, porcelain, mazers of beaten and solid gold, set with diamonds, rubies, and emeralds; a treasure, especially the workmanship considered, of inestimable value. This is all the Duke of Parma's. Nothing seemed to be more curious and rare in its kind than the complete service of the purest crystal, for the altar of the chapel, the very bell, cover of a book, sprinkler, etc., were all of the rock, incomparably sculptured, with the holy story in deep Levati; thus was also wrought the crucifix, chalice, vases, flowerpots, the largest and purest crystal that my eyes ever beheld. Truly I looked on this as one of the greatest curiosities I had seen in Rome. In another part were presses furnished with antique arms, German clocks, perpetual motions, watches, and curiosities of Indian works. A very ancient picture of Pope Eugenius; a St. Bernard; and a head of marble found long since, supposed to be a true portrait of our Blessed Savior's face.
25th January, 1645. I went back to the Palazzo Farnese to see some specific statues and antiques that I couldn’t check out last time since the Major-Domo wasn’t available. In the hall, there’s that impressive Colosse of a family member, supported by three figures—a modern yet rare piece. Surrounding it were some Gladiators, and at the entrance to one of the first rooms, there are two reclining figures of Age and Young people, moved here from St. Peter's to make space for the Longinus under the dome. Here was the statue of a ram charging at a man on horseback, an incredible depiction of Fury carved in stone; and a table of pietra-commessa, which is very intricate. The next room was entirely painted a fresco, by a talented artist, as was the wood carving on the ceiling, which, if I remember correctly, was made of cedar, as is typical in Italy, rather than the plain plaster we often use; some of them are richly gilded. In the third room stood the famous Venus, and the child Hercules strangling a serpent, made of antique Corinthian brass, [Pg 142], depicted on a very detailed basso-relievo; the sacrifice to Priapus; the Egyptian Isis, carved from hard black ophite stone, taken from the Pantheon, which is highly regarded by antiquarians; as well as two brass tables containing various ancient Roman laws. On another side of this room was the statue of a wounded Amazon falling from her horse, worthy of the excellent sculptor, whoever that may be. Nearby was a bass-relievo depicting a Bacchanalia with a fascinating Silenus. The fourth room was completely filled with statues; notably, there was the renowned piece of a Venus looking back over her shoulder, along with several other naked figures by the ancient Greek masters. Above the doors are two Venuses; one looking at her reflection in a mirror, by M. Angelo; the other painted by Caracci. I’ve never seen more beautiful faces, especially the one under the mask, whose beauty and artistry are beyond words. The next room was also filled with statues, mostly heads of philosophers, very ancient. One of the Cæsars and another of Hannibal cost 1,200 crowns. I also had a second look at that gallery, which is endlessly admired, painted in deep relief, the result of ten years of effort for a meager reward. In the wardrobe above, they showed us beautifully crafted silverware, porcelain, bowls made of beaten and solid gold, set with diamonds, rubies, and emeralds; considered a treasure, especially because of its craftsmanship, of priceless value. This all belongs to the Duke of Parma. Nothing seemed more curious and rare than the complete service of the purest crystal for the altar of the chapel, including the bell, cover of a book, sprinkler, etc., all intricately sculpted from rock, featuring the holy story in deep Levati; the crucifix, chalice, vases, and flowerpots were all the largest and purest crystal I’ve ever seen. This truly struck me as one of the greatest curiosities I had witnessed in Rome. In another area, there were cabinets filled with antique weapons, German clocks, perpetual motion devices, watches, and curiosities made from Indian crafts. There was a very old painting of Pope Eugenius; a St. Bernard; and a marble head found a long time ago, believed to be a true representation of our Blessed Savior's face.
Hence, we went to see Dr. Gibbs, a famous poet and countryman of ours, who had some intendency in an hospital built on the Via Triumphalis, called Christ's[Pg 143] Hospital, which he showed us. The Infirmatory, where the sick lay, was paved with various colored marbles, and the walls hung with noble pieces; the beds are very fair; in the middle is a stately cupola, under which is an altar decked with divers marble statues, all in sight of the sick, who may both see and hear mass, as they lie in their beds. The organs are very fine, and frequently played on to recreate the people in pain. To this joins an apartment destined for the orphans; and there is a school: the children wear blue, like ours in London, at an hospital of the same appellation. Here are forty nurses, who give suck to such children as are accidentally found exposed and abandoned. In another quarter, are children of a bigger growth, 450 in number, who are taught letters. In another, 500 girls, under the tuition of divers religious matrons, in a monastery, as it were, by itself. I was assured there were at least 2,000 more maintained in other places. I think one apartment had in it near 1,000 beds; these are in a very long room, having an inner passage for those who attend, with as much care, sweetness, and conveniency as can be imagined, the Italians being generally very neat. Under the portico, the sick may walk out and take the air. Opposite to this, are other chambers for such as are sick of maladies of a more rare and difficult cure, and they have rooms apart. At the end of the long corridor is an apothecary's shop, fair and very well stored; near which are chambers for persons of better quality, who are yet necessitous. Whatever the poor bring is, at their coming in, delivered to a treasurer, who makes an inventory, and is accountable to them, or their representatives if they die.
So, we went to see Dr. Gibbs, a well-known poet and fellow countryman, who had some responsibilities at a hospital located on the Via Triumphalis, called Christ's[Pg 143] Hospital, which he showed us. The infirmary, where the sick rested, had a floor made of various colored marbles, and the walls were adorned with exquisite artwork; the beds were quite nice; in the center was an impressive dome, beneath which was an altar surrounded by various marble statues, all visible to the sick, who could see and hear mass from their beds. The organs were very fine and were often played to provide comfort to those in pain. Next to this was a space designated for orphans, and there was a school: the children wore blue, like the ones in London at a similarly named hospital. There were forty nurses who cared for infants found abandoned. In another area, there were 450 older children learning to read and write. Additionally, there were 500 girls under the guidance of various religious women, almost like a separate monastery. I was told there were at least 2,000 more cared for in other facilities. I think one room had around 1,000 beds; these were arranged in a long hallway, with a separate passage for the attendants, all maintained with as much care, comfort, and convenience as possible, as Italians are generally very tidy. Beneath the portico, the sick could step outside and get some fresh air. Across from this were other rooms for patients with more unusual and challenging illnesses, and they had private rooms. At the end of the long corridor was a very nice and well-stocked pharmacy; nearby were rooms for individuals of higher status who were still in need. Anything the poor brought with them was handed over to a treasurer upon arrival, who would create an inventory and be accountable to them or their representatives if they passed away.
To this building joins the house of the commendator, who, with his officers attending the sick, make up ninety persons; besides a convent and an ample church for the friars and priests who daily attend. The church is extremely neat, and the sacristia is very rich. Indeed it is altogether one of the most pious and worthy foundations I ever saw. Nor is the benefit small which divers young physicians and chirurgeons reap by the experience they learn here among the sick, to whom those students have free access. Hence, we ascended a very steep hill, near the Port St. Pancratio, to that stately fountain called[Pg 144] Acqua Paula, being the aqueduct which Augustus had brought to Rome, now re-edified by Paulus V.; a rare piece of architecture, and which serves the city after a journey of thirty-five miles, here pouring itself into divers ample lavers, out of the mouths of swans and dragons, the arms of this Pope. Situate on a very high mount, it makes a most glorious show to the city, especially when the sun darts on the water as it gusheth out. The inscriptions on it are:
The commendator's house is attached to this building, where he and his staff take care of the sick, totaling around ninety people; in addition, there’s a convent and a large church for the friars and priests who attend daily. The church is very tidy, and the sacristy is quite lavish. It truly stands out as one of the most devout and admirable foundations I have ever seen. Additionally, many young doctors and surgeons gain valuable experience here with the sick, as those students have free access to them. From there, we climbed a steep hill near Port St. Pancratio to reach the impressive fountain called [Pg 144] Acqua Paula, the aqueduct that Augustus brought to Rome, now restored by Paulus V. It’s an extraordinary piece of architecture, serving the city after traveling thirty-five miles, pouring into various large basins from the mouths of swans and dragons, which are the symbols of this Pope. Situated on a high mound, it offers a stunning view of the city, especially when the sun shines on the water as it flows. The inscriptions on it are:
"Paulus V. Romanus Pontifex Opt. Max. Aquæductus ab Augusto Cæsare extructos, ævi longinquâ vetustate collapsos, in ampliorem formam restituit anno salutis M.D.CIX. Pont. V."
Paul V, the Supreme Pontiff, restored the aqueducts built by Emperor Augustus, which had fallen into deeper disrepair over a long period, to a larger form in the year of our Lord 1609, during his fifth pontificate.
And toward the fields:
And towards the fields:
"Paulus V. Rom. Pontifex Optimus Maximus, priori ductu longissimi temporis injuriâ penè diruto, sublimiorem."
"Paulus V. Rom. Pontifex Optimus Maximus, under the previous leadership, which was nearly destroyed by a long-standing injustice, has risen to a higher position."
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[One or more leaves are here wanting in Evelyn's MS., descriptive of other parts of Rome, and of his leaving the city.]
[One or more pages are missing from Evelyn's manuscript, describing other parts of Rome and his departure from the city.]
Thence to Velletri, a town heretofore of the Volsci, where is a public and fair statue of P. Urban VIII., in brass, and a stately fountain in the street. Here we lay and drank excellent wine.
Then to Velletri, a town once of the Volsci, where there is a public and beautiful statue of P. Urban VIII, made of brass, and a grand fountain in the street. Here we rested and enjoyed some excellent wine.
28th January, 1645. We dined at Sermonetta, descending all this morning down a stony mountain, unpleasant, yet full of olive trees; and, anon, pass a tower built on a rock, kept by a small guard against the banditti who infest those parts, daily robbing and killing passengers, as my Lord Banbury and his company found to their cost a little before. To this guard we gave some money, and so were suffered to pass, which was still on the Appian to the Tres Tabernæ (whither the brethren came from Rome to meet St. Paul, Acts, c. 28); the ruins whereof are yet very fair, resembling the remainder of some considerable edifice, as may be judged by the vast stones and fairness of the arched work. The country environing this passage is hilly, but rich; on the right hand stretches an ample plain, being the Pomptini Campi. We reposed this night at Piperno, in the posthouse without the town; and here I was extremely troubled with a sore hand, which now began to fester, from a mischance at Rome, upon my base, unlucky, stiff-necked, trotting, car[Pg 145]rion mule; which are the most wretched beasts in the world. In this town was the poet Virgil's Camilla born.
28th January, 1645. We had lunch at Sermonetta after spending the whole morning descending a rocky mountain, which was unpleasant but filled with olive trees. Shortly after, we passed a tower built on a rock, guarded by a small number of soldiers against the bandits that plague the area, who are known to rob and kill travelers, as my Lord Banbury and his group discovered the hard way not too long ago. We gave some money to this guard so we could pass, still on the Appian road to the Tres Tabernæ (where the brethren came from Rome to meet St. Paul, Acts, c. 28); the ruins there are still quite impressive, resembling the remnants of a significant building, as seen in the massive stones and the elegance of the arched construction. The countryside around this route is hilly but fertile; on the right side lies a broad plain known as the Pomptini Campi. We rested tonight at Piperno, in the posthouse just outside the town; I was really bothered by a sore hand, which was starting to fester from an injury in Rome, caused by my low-quality, unfortunate, stubborn, trotting mule, which is truly one of the worst animals to ride. This town is the birthplace of the poet Virgil's Camilla.
The day following, we were fain to hire a strong convoy of about thirty firelocks, to guard us through the cork woods (much infested with the banditti) as far as Fossa Nuova, where was the Forum Appii, and now stands a church with a great monastery, the place where Thomas Aquinas both studied and lies buried. Here we all alighted, and were most courteously received by the Monks, who showed us many relics of their learned Saint and at the high altar the print forsooth of the mule's hoof which he caused to kneel before the Host. The church is old, built after the Gothic manner; but the place is very agreeably melancholy. After this, pursuing the same noble [Appian] way (which we had before left a little), we found it to stretch from Capua to Rome itself, and afterward as far as Brundusium. It was built by that famous Consul, twenty-five feet broad, every twelve feet something ascending for the ease and firmer footing of horse and man; both the sides are also a little raised for those who travel on foot. The whole is paved with a kind of beach-stone, and, as I said, ever and anon adorned with some old ruin, sepulchre, or broken statue. In one of these monuments Pancirollus tells us that, in the time of Paul III., there was found the body of a young lady, swimming in a kind of bath of precious oil, or liquor, fresh and entire as if she had been living, neither her face discolored, nor her hair disordered; at her feet burnt a lamp, which suddenly expired at the opening of the vault; having flamed, as was computed, now 1,500 years, by the conjecture that she was Tulliola, the daughter of Cicero, whose body was thus found, and as the inscription testified. We dined this day at Terracina, heretofore the famous Anxur, which stands upon a very eminent promontory, the Circean by name. While meat was preparing, I went up into the town, and viewed the fair remainders of Jupiter's Temple, now converted into a church, adorned with most stately columns; its architecture has been excellent, as may be deduced from the goodly cornices, moldings, and huge white marbles of which it is built. Before the portico stands a pillar thus inscribed:[Pg 146]
The next day, we had to hire a strong escort of about thirty armed guards to protect us through the cork woods, which were heavily infested with bandits, all the way to Fossa Nuova. There, at the Forum Appii, now stands a church with a large monastery, the place where Thomas Aquinas both studied and is buried. We all got down and were warmly welcomed by the monks, who showed us many relics of their esteemed saint, including the imprint of the mule's hoof that knelt before the Host at the high altar. The church is old, built in the Gothic style, but the atmosphere is pleasantly somber. After that, we continued along the same great Appian way (which we had briefly left), finding that it stretched from Capua to Rome and then all the way to Brundusium. It was built by a famous consul, is twenty-five feet wide, and has gentle ascents every twelve feet for the comfort and stability of both horses and pedestrians. The sides are raised a bit for those traveling on foot. The road is paved with a type of beach stone and, as I mentioned, is occasionally adorned with old ruins, tombs, or broken statues. One of these monuments, as Pancirollus tells us, contained the body of a young woman found during the reign of Paul III, preserved in a bath of precious oil or liquid, seemingly fresh and intact as if she were alive, with neither her face discolored nor her hair in disarray. A lamp burned at her feet, which went out when the vault was opened; it had supposedly been burning for about 1,500 years, leading to the belief that she was Tulliola, the daughter of Cicero, as the inscription indicated. We had lunch that day at Terracina, formerly known as Anxur, which is situated on a prominent cliff called Circean. While the food was being prepared, I climbed up into the town and examined the impressive remains of Jupiter's Temple, now turned into a church, adorned with magnificent columns. Its architecture is exceptional, evident from the beautiful cornices, moldings, and large white marbles used in its construction. In front of the portico stands a pillar inscribed with:[Pg 146]
for, it seems, Theodoric drained their marches.
for it seems Theodoric drained their marches.
On another more ancient:
On another older:
"Imp. Cæsar Divi Nervæ Filius Nerva Trojanus Aug. Germanicus Dacicus. Pontif. Max. Trib. Pop. xviii. Imp. vi. Cos. v. p. p. xviii. Silices suâ pecuniâ stravit."
"Emperor Caesar, son of the divine Nerva, Nerva the Trojan, Augustus, Germanicus, Dacicus. High Priest. Tribune of the People eighteen times. Emperor six times. Consul five times. Father of the Country eighteen times. He paved the Silices with his own money."
Meaning doubtless, some part of the Via Appia. Then:
Meaning, without a doubt, some section of the Via Appia. Then:
"Tit. Upio. Aug. optato Pontano Procuratori et Præfect. Classis.— Ti. Julius. T. Fab. optatus, II. vir."
"Tit. Upio. Aug. chosen by Pontano Procurators and Prefects of the Fleet.— Ti. Julius. T. Fab. chosen, II. man."
Here is likewise a Columna Milliaria, with something engraven on it, but I could not stay to consider it. Coming down again, I went toward the sea-side to contemplate that stupendous strange rock and promontory, cleft by hand, I suppose, for the better passage. Within this is the Circean Cave, which I went into a good way; it makes a dreadful noise, by reason of the roaring and impetuous waves continually assaulting the beach, and that in an unusual manner. At the top, at an excessive height, stands an old and very great castle. FONDIWe arrived this night at Fondi, a most dangerous passage for robbing; and so we passed by Galba's villa, and anon entered the kingdom of Naples, where, at the gate, this epigraph saluted us: "Hospes, hìc sunt fines Regni Neopolitani; si amicus advenis, pacatè omnia invenies, et malis moribus pulsis, bonas leges." The Via Appia is here a noble prospect; having before considered how it was carried through vast mountains of rocks for many miles, by most stupendous labor: here it is infinitely pleasant, beset with sepulchres and antiquities, full of sweet shrubs in the environing hedges. At Fondi, we had oranges and citrons for nothing, the trees growing in every corner, charged with fruit.
Here is also a Mile Marker with some writing on it, but I couldn’t stop to check it out. Coming down again, I headed toward the seaside to admire that incredible, unusual rock and promontory, which I assume was cut by hand for easier passage. Inside this area is the Circean Cave, which I explored for a bit; it makes a terrifying noise from the roaring and powerful waves constantly crashing on the beach in a strange way. At the top, at a great height, stands an old and very large castle. FUNDINGWe arrived tonight at Fondi, a very dangerous area for robbery; we passed by Galba's villa and soon entered the kingdom of Naples, where, at the gate, we were greeted by this inscription: "Hospes, hìc sunt fines Regni Neopolitani; si amicus advenis, pacatè omnia invenies, et malis moribus pulsis, bonas leges." The Via Appia here offers a grand view; having previously thought about how it was built through vast mountains of rock for many miles, using tremendous effort: here it is incredibly lovely, surrounded by tombs and ancient relics, filled with sweet shrubs in the nearby hedges. In Fondi, we had oranges and citrons for free, with the trees bearing fruit in every corner.
29th January, 1645. We descried Mount Cæcubus, famous for the generous wine it heretofore produced, and so rode onward the Appian Way, beset with myrtles, lentiscuses, bays, pomegranates, and whole groves of orange trees, and most delicious shrubs, till we came to Formiana [Formiæ], where they showed us Cicero's tomb, standing in an olive grove, now a rude heap of stones without form or beauty; for here that incomparable ora[Pg 147]tor was murdered. I shall never forget how exceedingly I was delighted with the sweetness of this passage, the sepulchre mixed among all sorts of verdure; besides being now come within sight of the noble city, Cajeta [Gaieta], which gives a surprising prospect along the Tyrrhene Sea, in manner of a theater: and here we beheld that strangely cleft rock, a frightful spectacle, which they say happened upon the passion of our Blessed Savior; but the haste of our procaccio did not suffer us to dwell so long on these objects and the many antiquities of this town as we desired.
January 29, 1645. We spotted Mount Cæcubus, known for the great wine it used to produce, and continued along the Appian Way, surrounded by myrtle, lentisk, bay, pomegranate, and entire groves of orange trees, along with many delightful shrubs, until we reached Formiana [Formiæ], where we were shown Cicero's tomb, located in an olive grove, now just a rough pile of stones without shape or beauty; for it was here that that incredible orator was murdered. I’ll never forget how much I was taken by the beauty of this place, the grave mingling with all kinds of greenery; plus, we were now in view of the noble city, Cajeta [Gaieta], which offers a stunning view of the Tyrrhenian Sea, like a theater: and here we saw that strangely split rock, a terrifying sight, which they say occurred during the passion of our Blessed Savior; but the urgency of our journey did not allow us to linger on these sights and the many antiquities of this town as much as we would have liked.
At Formi, we saw Cicero's grot; dining at Mola, and passing Sinuessa, Garigliano (once the city Mintern), and beheld the ruins of that vast amphitheater and aqueduct yet standing; the river Liris, which bounded the old Latium, Falernus, or Mons Massacus, celebrated for its wine, now named Garo; and this night we lodged at a little village called St. Agatha, in the Falernian Fields, near to Aurunca and Sessa.
At Formi, we checked out Cicero's grotto; had dinner at Mola, and passed Sinuessa, Garigliano (formerly the city of Mintern). We saw the ruins of that huge amphitheater and aqueduct that are still standing; the river Liris, which marked the edge of old Latium, Falernus, or Mons Massacus, known for its wine, now called Garo; and that night we stayed in a small village called St. Agatha, in the Falernian Fields, close to Aurunca and Sessa.
The next day, having passed [the river] Vulturnus, we come by the Torre di Francolisi, where Hannibal, in danger from Fabius Maximus, escaped by debauching his enemies; and so at last we entered the most pleasant plains of Campania, now called Terra di Lavoro; in very truth, I think, the most fertile spot that ever the sun shone upon. Here we saw the slender ruins of the once mighty Capua, contending at once both with Rome and Carthage, for splendor and empire, now nothing but a heap of rubbish, except showing some vestige of its former magnificence in pieces of temples, arches, theatres, columns, ports, vaults, colosses, etc., confounded together by the barbarous Goths and Longobards; there is, however, a new city, nearer to the road by two miles, fairly raised out of these heaps. The passage from this town to Naples (which is about ten or twelve English post miles) is as straight as a line, of great breadth, fuller of travelers than I remember any of our greatest and most frequented roads near London; but, what is extremely pleasing, is the great fertility of the fields, planted with fruit trees, whose boles are serpented with excellent vines, and they so exuberant, that it is commonly reported one vine will load five mules with its grapes. What adds much to the pleasure of the sight[Pg 148] is, that the vines, climbing to the summit of the trees, reach in festoons and fruitages from one tree to another, planted at exact distances, forming a more delightful picture than painting can describe. Here grow rice, canes for sugar, olives, pomegranates, mulberries, citrons, oranges, figs, and other sorts of rare fruits. About the middle of the way is the town Aversa, whither came three or four coaches to meet our lady travelers, of whom we now took leave, having been very merry by the way with them and the capitáno, their gallant.
The next day, after crossing the Vulturnus River, we arrived at the Torre di Francolisi, where Hannibal, in danger from Fabius Maximus, managed to escape by tricking his enemies. Finally, we entered the beautiful plains of Campania, now known as Terra di Lavoro; truly, I believe it’s the most fertile place the sun has ever shone on. Here, we saw the slim ruins of the once-great Capua, which had competed with both Rome and Carthage for power and grandeur, now reduced to a pile of rubble, though some remnants of its former splendor remained in the form of temples, arches, theaters, columns, ports, vaults, and colossal structures, all mixed together by the barbaric Goths and Longobards. However, there is a new city two miles closer to the road, built up from these ruins. The route from this town to Naples (which is about ten or twelve English post miles away) is as straight as an arrow, wide, and busier with travelers than any of the major roads near London that I remember; but what is especially pleasant is the rich fertility of the fields, planted with fruit trees whose trunks are entwined with excellent vines, so abundant that it's said one vine can load five mules with its grapes. Adding to the beauty of the scene[Pg 148] is the sight of vines climbing to the tops of trees, hanging in festoons and bearing fruit from one tree to another, spaced perfectly apart, creating a more delightful picture than any painting could capture. Here, rice, sugar cane, olives, pomegranates, mulberries, citrons, oranges, figs, and many other rare fruits grow. About halfway along the way is the town of Aversa, where three or four coaches came to meet our lady travelers, from whom we now took our leave, having had a great time with them and the gallant captain along the way.
31st January, 1645. About noon we entered the city of Naples, alighting at the Three Kings, where we found the most plentiful fare all the time we were in Naples. Provisions are wonderfully cheap; we seldom sat down to fewer than eighteen or twenty dishes of exquisite meat and fruits.
31st January, 1645. Around noon, we arrived in the city of Naples, getting off at the Three Kings, where we enjoyed an abundance of food during our stay. The prices for provisions are incredibly low; we rarely sat down to fewer than eighteen or twenty dishes of delicious meats and fruits.
The morrow after our arrival, in the afternoon, we hired a coach to carry us about the town. First, we went to the castle of St. Elmo, built on a very high rock, whence we had an entire prospect of the whole city, which lies in shape of a theatre upon the sea-brink, with all the circumjacent islands, as far as Capreæ, famous for the debauched recesses of Tiberius. This fort is the bridle of the whole city, and was well stored and garrisoned with native Spaniards. The strangeness of the precipice and rareness of the prospect of so many magnificent and stately palaces, churches, and monasteries, with the Arsenal, the Mole, and Mount Vesuvius in the distance, all in full command of the eye, make it one of the richest landscapes in the world.
The day after we arrived, in the afternoon, we hired a carriage to explore the city. First, we went to the castle of St. Elmo, built on a very high rock, from where we had a complete view of the entire city, which is laid out like a theater by the sea, along with all the nearby islands, as far as Capri, known for Tiberius' infamous hideaways. This fortress controls the whole city and was well-equipped and garrisoned with local Spaniards. The steep cliffs and the unique view of so many magnificent and grand palaces, churches, and monasteries, along with the Arsenal, the Mole, and Mount Vesuvius in the distance, all within sight, create one of the most stunning landscapes in the world.
Hence, we descended to another strong castle, called Il Castello Nuovo, which protects the shore; but they would by no entreaty permit us to go in; the outward defense seems to consist but in four towers, very high, and an exceeding deep graff, with thick walls. Opposite to this is the tower of St. Vincent, which is also very strong.
Hence, we went down to another strong castle, called Il Castello Nuovo, which guards the shore; but they would not let us in no matter how much we pleaded. The outer defense seems to consist of just four very tall towers and a very deep moat, with thick walls. Across from this is the tower of St. Vincent, which is also very strong.
Then we went to the very noble palace of the Viceroy, partly old, and part of a newer work; but we did not stay long here. Toward the evening, we took the air upon the Mole, a street on the rampart, or bank, raised in the sea for security of their galleys in port, built as that of Genoa. Here I observed a rich fountain[Pg 149] in the middle of the piazza, and adorned with divers rare statues of copper, representing the Sirens, or Deities of the Parthenope, spouting large streams of water into an ample shell, all of cast metal, and of great cost. This stands at the entrance of the Mole, where we met many of the nobility both on horseback and in their coaches to take the fresco from the sea, as the manner is, it being in the most advantageous quarter for good air, delight and prospect. Here we saw divers goodly horses who handsomely become their riders, the Neapolitan gentlemen. This Mole is about 500 paces in length, and paved with a square hewn stone. From the Mole, we ascend to a church of great antiquity, formerly sacred to Castor and Pollux, as the Greek letters carved on the architrave and the busts of their two statues testify. It is now converted into a stately oratory by the Theatines.
Then we visited the grand palace of the Viceroy, which is partly old and partly newer. We didn’t stay long, though. In the evening, we strolled along the Mole, a street on the rampart, or bank, built in the sea for the safety of their galleys in port, similar to that of Genoa. Here, I noticed a beautiful fountain[Pg 149] in the center of the piazza, decorated with various rare copper statues representing the Sirens or Deities of the Parthenope, shooting large streams of water into a large shell, all made of cast metal and quite expensive. This fountain is located at the entrance of the Mole, where we saw many nobles, both on horseback and in their carriages, coming to enjoy the fresh air from the sea, as is the custom, since this area offers the best views and pleasant breezes. We also admired several fine horses that complemented their Neapolitan owners perfectly. The Mole is about 500 paces long and paved with square-cut stone. From the Mole, we ascend to a very old church, once dedicated to Castor and Pollux, as indicated by the Greek letters carved on the architrave and the busts of their statues. It has now been turned into a grand oratory by the Theatines.
The Cathedral is a most magnificent pile, and except St. Peter's in Rome, Naples exceeds all cities for stately churches and monasteries. We were told that this day the blood of St. Januarius and his head should be exposed, and so we found it, but obtained not to see the miracle of the boiling of this blood. The next we went to see was St. Peter's, richly adorned, the chapel especially, where that Apostle said mass, as is testified on the wall.
The Cathedral is an incredibly impressive building, and aside from St. Peter's in Rome, Naples outshines all other cities with its grand churches and monasteries. We were informed that today the blood of St. Januarius and his head would be displayed, and we found it, but we weren't able to witness the miracle of the blood boiling. Next, we went to see St. Peter's, which is beautifully decorated, especially the chapel where that Apostle held mass, as is noted on the wall.
After dinner we went to St. Dominic, where they showed us the crucifix that is reported to have said these words to St. Thomas, "Benè de me scripsisti, Thoma." Hence, to the Padri Olivetani, famous for the monument of the learned Alexander-ab-Alexandro.
After dinner, we went to St. Dominic, where they showed us the crucifix that supposedly spoke these words to St. Thomas, "Benè de me scripsisti, Thoma." From there, we proceeded to the Padri Olivetani, known for the monument of the learned Alexander-ab-Alexandro.
We proceeded, the next day, to visit the church of Santa Maria Maggiore, where we spent much time in surveying the chapel of Joh. Jov. Pontanus, and in it the several and excellent sentences and epitaphs on himself, wife, children, and friends, full of rare wit, and worthy of recording, as we find them in several writers. In the same chapel is shown an arm of Titus Livius, with this epigraph. "Titi Livij brachium quod Anton. Panormita a Patavinis impetravit, Jo. Jovianus Pontanus multos post annos hôc in loco ponendum curavit."
We went the next day to visit the church of Santa Maria Maggiore, where we spent a long time exploring the chapel of Joh. Jov. Pontanus, admiring the various impressive quotes and epitaphs about himself, his wife, children, and friends, full of unique wit and worth recording, as noted by several writers. This chapel also displays an arm of Titus Livius, with the inscription: "Titi Livij brachium quod Anton. Panormita a Patavinis impetravit, Jo. Jovianus Pontanus multos post annos hôc in loco ponendum curavit."
Climbing a steep hill, we came to the monastery and Church of the Carthusians, from whence is a most goodly prospect toward the sea and city, the one full of galleys[Pg 150] and ships, the other of stately palaces, churches, monasteries, castles, gardens, delicious fields and meadows, Mount Vesuvius smoking, the promontory of Minerva and Misenum, Capreæ, Prochyta, Ischia, Pausilipum, Puteoli, and the rest, doubtless one of the most divertissant and considerable vistas in the world. The church is most elegantly built; the very pavements of the common cloister being all laid with variously polished marbles, richly figured. They showed us a massy cross of silver, much celebrated for the workmanship and carving, and said to have been fourteen years in perfecting. The choir also is of rare art; but above all to be admired, is the yet unfinished church of the Jesuits, certainly, if accomplished, not to be equalled in Europe. Hence, we passed by the Palazzo Caraffii, full of ancient and very noble statues: also the palace of the Orsini. The next day, we did little but visit some friends, English merchants, resident for their negotiation; only this morning at the Viceroy's Cavalerizza I saw the noblest horses that I had ever beheld, one of his sons riding the menage with that address and dexterity as I had never seen anything approach it.
Climbing a steep hill, we reached the monastery and Church of the Carthusians, from where there’s a breathtaking view of the sea and city—one filled with galleys and ships, and the other with grand palaces, churches, monasteries, castles, gardens, and beautiful fields and meadows. You can see Mount Vesuvius smoking, the promontory of Minerva, Misenum, Capreæ, Prochyta, Ischia, Pausilipum, Puteoli, and more, undoubtedly one of the most captivating and significant views in the world. The church is beautifully built; even the floors of the common cloister are laid with various polished marbles, intricately designed. They showed us a large silver cross, famous for its craftsmanship and carving, said to have taken fourteen years to complete. The choir is also a work of rare art, but what stands out the most is the still unfinished church of the Jesuits, which, if completed, will likely be unmatched in Europe. From there, we passed by the Palazzo Caraffii, filled with ancient and very noble statues, as well as the palace of the Orsini. The next day, we mostly visited some friends, English merchants living there for their business. Just this morning at the Viceroy's Cavalerizza, I saw the finest horses I had ever seen, with one of his sons riding with a level of skill and grace that I had never witnessed before.
4th February, 1645. We were invited to the collection of exotic rarities in the Museum of Ferdinando Imperati, a Neapolitan nobleman, and one of the most observable palaces in the city, the repository of incomparable rarities. Among the natural herbals most remarkable was the Byssus marina and Pinna marina; the male and female chameleon; an Onocrotatus; an extraordinary great crocodile; some of the Orcades Anates, held here for a great rarity; likewise a salamander; the male and female Manucordiata, the male having a hollow in the back, in which it is reported the female both lays and hatches her eggs; the mandragoras, of both sexes; Papyrus, made of several reeds, and some of silk; tables of the rinds of trees, written with Japonic characters; another of the branches of palm; many Indian fruits; a crystal that had a quantity of uncongealed water within its cavity; a petrified fisher's net; divers sorts of tarantulas, being a monstrous spider, with lark-like claws, and somewhat bigger.
February 4, 1645. We were invited to see a collection of exotic items at the Museum of Ferdinando Imperati, a Neapolitan nobleman and one of the most impressive palaces in the city, known for its extraordinary collection. Among the notable natural specimens were the Byssus marina and Pinna marina; a male and female chameleon; an Onocrotatus; an exceptionally large crocodile; some Orcades Anates, which are considered quite rare here; also a salamander; the male and female Manucordiata, with the male having a hollow in its back where it is said the female lays and hatches her eggs; mandrakes of both sexes; papyrus made of various reeds and some made of silk; tables made from tree bark inscribed with Japanese characters; one from palm branches; many Indian fruits; a crystal containing a quantity of liquid water inside; a fossilized fisher's net; and various types of tarantulas, which are large spiders with lark-like claws, and somewhat bigger.
5th February, 1645. This day we beheld the Vice-king's procession, which was very splendid for the relics,[Pg 151] banners, and music that accompanied the Blessed Sacrament. The ceremony took up most of the morning.
5th February, 1645. Today we watched the Vice-king's procession, which was very impressive with the relics,[Pg 151] banners, and music that accompanied the Blessed Sacrament. The ceremony lasted most of the morning.
6th February, 1645. We went by coach to take the air, and see the diversions, or rather madness of the Carnival; the courtesans (who swarm in this city to the number, as we are told, of 30,000, registered and paying a tax to the State) flinging eggs of sweet water into our coach, as we passed by the houses and windows. Indeed, the town is so pestered with these cattle, that there needs no small mortification to preserve from their enchantment, while they display all their natural and artificial beauty, play, sing, feign compliment, and by a thousand studied devices seek to inveigle foolish young men.
6th February, 1645. We took a coach ride to enjoy the fresh air and check out the craziness of the Carnival; the courtesans (who are said to number around 30,000 in this city, all registered and paying taxes to the state) were throwing sweet water eggs at our coach as we passed by houses and windows. In fact, the town is so overrun by these ladies that it takes serious effort to resist their charm, as they show off all their natural and artificial beauty, play, sing, compliment, and use a thousand clever tricks to lure in gullible young men.
7th February, 1645. The next day, being Saturday, we went four miles out of town on mules, to see that famous volcano, Mount Vesuvius. Here we pass a fair fountain, called Labulla, which continually boils, supposed to proceed from Vesuvius, and thence over a river and bridge, where on a large upright stone, is engraven a notable inscription relative to the memorable eruption in 1630.
7th February, 1645. The next day, which was Saturday, we rode four miles out of town on mules to see the famous volcano, Mount Vesuvius. Along the way, we passed a lovely fountain called Labulla, which constantly bubbles and is thought to originate from Vesuvius. After that, we crossed a river and a bridge, where there’s a large upright stone with a notable inscription about the significant eruption in 1630.
Approaching the hill, as we were able with our mules, we alighted, crawling up the rest of the proclivity with great difficulty, now with our feet, now with our hands, not without many untoward slips which did much bruise us on the various colored cinders, with which the whole mountain is covered, some like pitch, others full of perfect brimstone, others metallic, interspersed with innumerable pumices (of all which I made a collection), we at the last gained the summit of an extensive altitude. Turning our faces toward Naples, it presents one of the goodliest prospects in the world; all the Baiæ, Cuma, Elysian Fields, Capreæ, Ischia, Prochyta, Misenus, Puteoli, that goodly city, with a great portion of the Tyrrhene Sea, offering themselves to your view at once, and at so agreeable a distance, as nothing can be more delightful. The mountain consists of a double top, the one pointed very sharp, and commonly appearing above any clouds, the other blunt. Here, as we approached, we met many large gaping clefts and chasms, out of which issued such sulphurous blasts and smoke, that we dared not stand long near them. Having gained the very summit, I laid[Pg 152] myself down to look over into that most frightful and terrible vorago, a stupendous pit of near three miles in circuit, and half a mile in depth, by a perpendicular hollow cliff (like that from the highest part of Dover Castle), with now and then a craggy prominency jetting out. The area at the bottom is plane, like an even floor, which seems to be made by the wind circling the ashes by its eddy blasts. In the middle and centre is a hill, shaped like a great brown loaf, appearing to consist of sulphurous matter, continually vomiting a foggy exhalation, and ejecting huge stones with an impetuous noise and roaring, like the report of many muskets discharging. This horrid barathrum engaged our attention for some hours, both for the strangeness of the spectacle, and the mention which the old histories make of it, as one of the most stupendous curiosities in nature, and which made the learned and inquisitive Pliny adventure his life to detect the causes, and to lose it in too desperate an approach. It is likewise famous for the stratagem of the rebel, Spartacus, who did so much mischief to the State lurking among and protected by, these horrid caverns, when it was more accessible and less dangerous than it is now; but especially notorious it is for the last conflagration, when, in anno 1630, it burst out beyond what it had ever done in the memory of history; throwing out huge stones and fiery pumices in such quantity, as not only environed the whole mountain, but totally buried and overwhelmed divers towns and their inhabitants, scattering the ashes more than a hundred miles, and utterly devastating all those vineyards, where formerly grew the most incomparable Greco; when, bursting through the bowels of the earth, it absorbed the very sea, and, with its whirling waters, drew in divers galleys and other vessels to their destruction, as is faithfully recorded. We descended with more ease than we climbed up, through a deep valley of pure ashes, which at the late eruption was a flowing river of melted and burning brimstone, and so came to our mules at the foot of the mountain.
As we approached the hill on our mules, we dismounted and crawled up the rest of the slope with great difficulty, using our feet and hands, not without plenty of slips that bruised us on the various colored cinders covering the entire mountain. Some looked like pitch, others were full of perfect brimstone, and some were metallic, all mixed with countless pumice stones (which I collected). Eventually, we reached the top of a high altitude. Turning to face Naples, it offered one of the most beautiful views in the world, showcasing all of Baiæ, Cuma, the Elysian Fields, Capreæ, Ischia, Prochyta, Misenus, Puteoli, that lovely city, along with a large portion of the Tyrrhenian Sea, all visible at such a pleasant distance that it was utterly delightful. The mountain has a double peak, one pointed sharply, often above the clouds, and the other blunt. As we got closer, we encountered many large, gaping cracks and chasms from which sulfurous smoke and blasts emerged, making us hesitate to linger near them. Once we reached the very summit, I lay down to look into a terrifying and immense pit about three miles around and half a mile deep, with steep cliffs reminiscent of the highest part of Dover Castle, occasionally jutting out with jagged rock. The bottom area is flat, like an even floor, seemingly shaped by the wind swirling around the ashes. In the center is a hill, resembling a large brown loaf, made of sulfurous material, constantly emitting a foggy mist and ejecting large stones with a thunderous noise, like a barrage of muskets firing. This dreadful abyss held our attention for several hours, both because of the bizarre spectacle and the accounts in ancient histories of it being one of nature's most extraordinary curiosities, which prompted the learned and curious Pliny to risk his life to uncover its secrets, resulting in his demise from getting too close. It is also notorious for the tactics of the rebel Spartacus, who caused significant harm to the State while hiding in and being shielded by these terrifying caves when it was more accessible and less dangerous than now. However, it is especially infamous for the last great eruption in 1630, which erupted more violently than any time recorded in history, ejecting massive stones and fiery pumice in such quantities that it not only surrounded the entire mountain but also completely buried and overwhelmed several towns and their inhabitants, scattering ashes over a hundred miles and utterly destroying the vineyards where the exquisite Greco once thrived. In its explosive rage, it absorbed the very sea, pulling in many galleys and other vessels to their doom, as faithfully recorded. We descended more easily than we climbed up, through a deep valley of pure ash, which during the last eruption had flowed like a river of melted and burning brimstone, and made our way back to our mules at the foot of the mountain.
On Sunday, we with our guide visited the so much celebrated Baia, and natural rarities of the places adjacent. Here we entered the mountain Pausilypus, at the left hand of which they showed us Virgil's sepulchre erected[Pg 153] on a steep rock, in form of a small rotunda or cupolated column, but almost overgrown with bushes and wild bay trees. At the entrance is this inscription:
On Sunday, we visited the famous Baia with our guide, along with the natural wonders of the surrounding areas. Here, we entered Mount Pausilypus, where our guide pointed out Virgil's tomb, built on a steep rock in the shape of a small rotunda or dome-shaped column, but almost covered with bushes and wild bay trees. At the entrance, there is this inscription:
Stanisi Cencovius.
1589
Qui cineres? Tumuli hæc vestigia, conditur olim
Ille hôc qui cecinit Pascua, Rura Duces.
Can Ree MDLIII.26
Stanisi Cencovius.
1589
Who are the ashes? These mounds bear witness to what was buried long ago.
He who sang of the pastures, guiding the countryside.
Can Ree MDLIII.26
After we were advanced into this noble and altogether wonderful crypt, consisting of a passage spacious enough for two coaches to go abreast, cut through a rocky mountain near three quarters of a mile (by the ancient Cimmerii as reported, but as others say by L. Cocceius, who employed a hundred thousand men on it), we came to the midway, where there is a well bored through the diameter of this vast mountain, which admits the light into a pretty chapel, hewn out of the natural rock, wherein hang divers lamps, perpetually burning. The way is paved under foot; but it does not hinder the dust, which rises so excessively in this much-frequented passage, that we were forced at midday to use a torch. At length, we were delivered from the bowels of the earth into one of the most delicious plains in the world: the oranges, lemons, pomegranates, and other fruits, blushing yet on the perpetually green trees; for the summer is here eternal, caused by the natural and adventitious heat of the earth, warmed through the subterranean fires, as was shown us by our guide, who alighted, and, cutting up a turf with his knife, and delivering it to me, it was so hot, I was hardly able to hold it in my hands. This mountain is exceedingly fruitful in vines, and exotics grow readily.
After we made our way into this impressive and truly amazing crypt, which has a passage wide enough for two carriages to go side by side, carved through a rocky mountain for about three-quarters of a mile (reported to be done by the ancient Cimmerii, though others say it was by L. Cocceius, who used a hundred thousand workers), we reached the halfway point, where there’s a well drilled through the center of this massive mountain, letting light into a lovely chapel, sculpted from the natural rock, where various lamps are always lit. The path is paved, but that doesn’t stop the dust, which rises so much in this busy passage that we needed to use a torch at midday. Finally, we emerged from the depths of the earth into one of the most beautiful plains in the world: oranges, lemons, pomegranates, and other fruits glowing on the ever-green trees; summer is eternal here, due to the natural and additional heat from the earth, warmed by the underground fires, as our guide showed us by stepping down, cutting a piece of turf with his knife, and handing it to me—it was so hot I could barely hold it. This mountain is extremely fertile for vineyards, and exotic plants flourish easily.
We now came to a lake of about two miles in circumference, environed with hills; the water of it is fresh and sweet on the surface, but salt at bottom; some mineral salt conjectured to be the cause, and it is reported of that[Pg 154] profunditude in the middle that it is bottomless. The people call it Lago d'Agnano, from the multitude of serpents which, involved together about the spring, fall down from the cliffy hills into it. It has no fish, nor will any live in it. We tried the old experiment on a dog in the Grotto del Cane, or Charon's Cave; it is not above three or four paces deep, and about the height of a man, nor very broad. Whatever having life enters it, presently expires. Of this we made trial with two dogs, one of which we bound to a short pole to guide him the more directly into the further part of the den, where he was no sooner entered, but—without the least noise, or so much as a struggle, except that he panted for breath, lolling out his tongue, his eyes being fixed:—we drew him out dead to all appearance; but immediately plunging him into the adjoining lake, within less than half an hour he recovered, and swimming to shore, ran away from us. We tried the same on another dog, without the application of the water, and left him quite dead. The experiment has been made on men, as on that poor creature whom Peter of Toledo caused to go in; likewise on some Turkish slaves; two soldiers, and other foolhardy persons, who all perished, and could never be recovered by the water of the lake, as are dogs; for which many learned reasons have been offered, as Simon Majolus in his book of the Canicular-days has mentioned, colloq. 15. And certainly the most likely is, the effect of those hot and dry vapors which ascend out of the earth, and are condensed by the ambient cold, as appears by their converting into crystalline drops on the top, while at the bottom it is so excessively hot, that a torch being extinguished near it, and lifted a little distance, was suddenly re-lighted.
We now arrived at a lake about two miles around, surrounded by hills. The surface water is fresh and sweet, but it turns salt at the bottom; some believe this is due to mineral salt, and it’s rumored that the middle of the lake is bottomless. The locals call it Lago d'Agnano because of the many snakes that intertwine around the spring and fall from the steep hills into it. There are no fish, and none can survive in it. We tried the old experiment with a dog in the Grotto del Cane, or Charon's Cave; it's only three or four steps deep, about man-height, and not very wide. Anything that enters it quickly dies. We tested this with two dogs; we tethered one to a short pole to guide him deeper into the cave, and as soon as he entered—without making a sound or struggling, other than gasping for breath with his tongue hanging out and his eyes fixed—we pulled him out looking dead. But when we immediately dipped him into the nearby lake, within half an hour he revived, swam to shore, and ran away. We did the same with another dog, without any water, and he remained completely dead. This experiment has been conducted on humans as well, including that poor man whom Peter of Toledo sent in, some Turkish slaves, two soldiers, and other reckless individuals, all of whom perished and could never be revived by the lake's water, unlike the dogs. Many learned explanations have been suggested, as Simon Majolus mentions in his book about the Canicular days, colloq. 15. The most probable reason is likely the hot and dry vapors that rise from the ground and condense in the cold air, forming crystalline drops on the surface, while the bottom is so hot that a torch extinguished near it, when lifted slightly away, was suddenly reignited.
Near to this cave are the natural stoves of St. Germain, of the nature of sudatories, in certain chambers partitioned with stone for the sick to sweat in, the vapors here being exceedingly hot, and of admirable success in the gout, and other cold distempers of the nerves. Hence, we climed up a hill, the very highway in several places even smoking with heat like a furnace. The mountains were by the Greeks called Leucogæi, and the fields Phlegræn. Hercules here vanquished the Giants, assisted with lightning. We now came to the Court of Vulcan, consisting of a valley near a quarter of a mile in breadth,[Pg 155] the margin environed with steep cliffs, out of whose sides and foot break forth fire and smoke in abundance, making a noise like a tempest of water, and sometimes discharging in loud reports, like so many guns. The heat of this place is wonderful, the earth itself being almost unsufferable, and which the subterranean fires have made so hollow, by having wasted the matter for so many years, that it sounds like a drum to those who walk upon it; and the water thus struggling with those fires bubbles and spouts aloft into the air. The mouths of these spiracles are bestrewed with variously colored cinders, which rise with the vapor, as do many colored stones, according to the quality of the combustible matter, insomuch as it is no little adventure to approach them. They are, however, daily frequented both by sick and well; the former receiving the fumes, have been recovered of diseases esteemed incurable. Here we found a great deal of sulphur made, which they refine in certain houses near the place, casting it into canes, to a very great value. Near this we were showed a hill of alum, where is one of the best mineries, yielding a considerable revenue. Some flowers of brass are found here; but I could not but smile at those who persuade themselves that here are the gates of purgatory (for which it may be they have erected, very near it, a convent, and named it St. Januarius), reporting to have often heard screeches and horrible lamentations proceeding from these caverns and volcanoes; with other legends of birds that are never seen, save on Sundays, which cast themselves into the lake at night, appearing no more all the week after.
Near this cave are the natural hot springs of St. Germain, which work like sweat lodges in stone chambers designed for the sick. The steam here is extremely hot and highly effective for treating gout and other nerve disorders. From there, we climbed a hill, where the path in several spots was even smoking with heat like a furnace. The mountains were called Leucogæi by the Greeks, and the fields were known as Phlegræn. Here, Hercules defeated the Giants with the help of lightning. We then arrived at the Court of Vulcan, which is a valley about a quarter of a mile wide, surrounded by steep cliffs that emit fire and smoke in abundance, creating a noise like a rushing waterfall, and sometimes exploding with loud reports like cannon fire. The heat in this area is remarkable; the ground is nearly unbearable, eroded by subterranean fires over many years, making it sound like a drum when walked upon. The water fighting against those fires bubbles and shoots up into the air. The openings of these vents are scattered with variously colored cinders that rise with the steam, along with many colored stones, depending on the type of combustible material, making it quite an adventure to get close to them. Nonetheless, both the sick and the healthy visit these sites daily; those who are ill benefit from the fumes and have been cured of diseases once thought incurable. Here we found a large quantity of sulfur being produced, which is refined in nearby houses into tubes worth a lot of money. Close by, we were shown a hill of alum, which is one of the best mines, generating significant revenue. Some traces of brass can also be found here, but I couldn't help but smile at those who believe that this is the entrance to purgatory (which may be why they built a convent nearby and named it St. Januarius), claiming to have often heard screams and terrible wails coming from these caverns and volcanoes, along with legends of birds that are only seen on Sundays, diving into the lake at night, and never appearing again for the rest of the week.
We now approached the ruins of a very stately temple, or theater, of 172 feet in length, and about 80 in breadth, thrown down by an earthquake, not long since; it was consecrated to Vulcan, and under the ground are many strange meanders; from which it is named the Labyrinth; this place is so haunted with bats, that their perpetual fluttering endangered the putting out our links.
We now neared the remains of a grand temple or theater, measuring 172 feet long and about 80 feet wide, which had been toppled by an earthquake not long ago. It was dedicated to Vulcan, and there are many unusual underground passages that gave it the name Maze. This place is so filled with bats that their constant flapping almost extinguished our torches.
Hence, we passed again those boiling and smoking hills, till we came to Pozzolo, formerly the famous Puteoli, the landing-place of St. Paul, when he came into Italy, after the tempest described in the Acts of the Apostles. Here we made a good dinner, and bought divers medals, antiquities, and other curiosities, of the country people, who[Pg 156] daily find such things among the very old ruins of those places. This town was formerly a Greek colony, built by the Samians, a seasonable commodious port, and full of observable antiquities. We saw the ruins of Neptune's Temple, to whom this place was sacred, and near it the stately palace and gardens of Peter de Toledo, formerly mentioned. Afterward, we visited that admirably built Temple of Augustus, seeming to have been hewn out of an entire rock, though indeed consisting of several square stones. The inscription remains thus: "L. Calphurnius L. F. Templum Augusto cum ornamentis D. D.;" and under it, "L. Coccejus L. C. Postumi L. Auctus Architectus." It is now converted into a church, in which they showed us huge bones, which they affirm to have been of some giant.
So, we passed those steaming and smoking hills again until we reached Pozzolo, previously known as the famous Puteoli, the place where St. Paul landed when he arrived in Italy after the storm described in the Acts of the Apostles. Here, we had a nice dinner and bought various medals, antiques, and other curiosities from the locals, who[Pg 156] often find such items among the ancient ruins. This town was once a Greek colony established by the Samians, a conveniently located port full of noteworthy antiquities. We saw the ruins of Neptune's Temple, which was dedicated to this deity, and nearby were the grand palace and gardens of Peter de Toledo, mentioned earlier. Later, we visited the impressively constructed Temple of Augustus, which looks like it was carved from a single rock, but is actually made of several square stones. The inscription reads: "L. Calphurnius L. F. Templum Augusto cum ornamentis D. D.;" and below it, "L. Coccejus L. C. Postumi L. Auctus Architectus." It has now been converted into a church, where they showed us large bones, which they claim belonged to a giant.
We went to see the ruins of the old haven, so compact with that bituminous sand in which the materials are laid, as the like is hardly to be found, though all this has not been sufficient to protect it from the fatal concussions of several earthquakes (frequent here) which have almost demolished it, thirteen vast piles of marble only remaining; a stupendous work in the bosom of Neptune! To this joins the bridge of Caligula, by which (having now embarked ourselves) we sailed to the pleasant Baia, almost four miles in length, all which way that proud Emperor would pass in triumph. Here we rowed along toward a villa of the orator Cicero's, where we were shown the ruins of his Academy; and, at the foot of a rock, his Baths, the waters reciprocating their tides with the neighboring sea. Hard at hand, rises Mount Gaurus, being, as I conceived, nothing save a heap of pumices, which here float in abundance on the sea, exhausted of all inflammable matter by the fire, which renders them light and porous, so as the beds of nitre, which lie deep under them, having taken fire, do easily eject them. They dig much for fancied treasure said to be concealed about this place. From hence, we coasted near the ruins of Portus Julius, where we might see divers stately palaces that had been swallowed up by the sea after earthquakes. Coming to shore, we pass by the Lucrine Lake, so famous heretofore for its delicious oysters, now producing few or none, being divided from the sea by a bank of incredible labor, the supposed work of Hercules; it is now half choked up with rubbish, and by part of the new mountain, which[Pg 157] rose partly out of it, and partly out of the sea, and that in the space of one night and a day, to a very great altitude, on the 29th September, 1538, after many terrible earthquakes, which ruined divers places thereabout, when at midnight the sea retiring near 200 paces, and yawning on the sudden, it continued to vomit forth flames and fiery stones in such quantity, as produced this whole mountain by their fall, making the inhabitants of Pozzolo to leave their habitations, supposing the end of the world had been come.
We went to see the ruins of the old harbor, so packed with that tar-like sand in which the materials are laid, as such a thing is rarely found, though all this hasn't been enough to protect it from the deadly shocks of several earthquakes (common here) that have nearly destroyed it, with only thirteen massive pillars of marble remaining; a remarkable work in the embrace of Neptune! Next to this stands the bridge of Caligula, by which (having now boarded) we sailed to the lovely Baia, almost four miles long, where that proud Emperor would pass in triumph. Here we rowed toward a villa owned by the orator Cicero, where we were shown the ruins of his Academy; and, at the foot of a rock, his Baths, with waters that exchanged tides with the nearby sea. Close by rises Mount Gaurus, which I figured to be just a heap of pumice, which here floats abundantly on the sea, depleted of all flammable material by the fire, making them light and porous, so that the beds of nitre lying deep beneath them, having caught fire, easily expelled them. They dig a lot for imagined treasure said to be hidden around this place. From here, we sailed close to the ruins of Portus Julius, where we saw various grand palaces that had been swallowed by the sea after earthquakes. Upon reaching the shore, we passed by the Lucrine Lake, once famous for its delicious oysters, now producing few or none, separated from the sea by a bank of incredible labor, supposedly the work of Hercules; it is now half choked with debris and by part of the new mountain, which[Pg 157]rose partly out of it and partly out of the sea, in just one night and day, to a great height, on September 29, 1538, after many terrible earthquakes that ruined several nearby areas, when at midnight the sea withdrew nearly 200 paces, and suddenly opened, continuing to spew flames and fiery stones in such quantity that they created this whole mountain by their fall, prompting the inhabitants of Pozzolo to flee their homes, believing the end of the world had come.
From the left part of this, we walked to the Lake Avernus of a round form, and totally environed with mountains. This lake was feigned by the poet for the gates of hell, by which Æneas made his descent, and where he sacrificed to Pluto and the Manes. The waters are of a remarkably black color; but I tasted of them without danger; hence, they feign that the river Styx has its source. At one side, stand the handsome ruins of a Temple dedicated to Apollo, or rather Pluto, but it is controverted. Opposite to this, having new lighted our torches, we enter a vast cave, in which having gone about two hundred paces, we pass a narrow entry which leads us into a room of about ten paces long, proportionably broad and high; the side walls and roof retain still the golden mosaic, though now exceedingly decayed by time. Here is a short cell or rather niche, cut out of the solid rock, somewhat resembling a couch, in which they report that the Sibylla lay, and uttered her Oracles; but it is supposed by most to have been a bath only. This subterranean grot leads quite through to Cuma, but is in some places obstructed by the earth which has sunk in, so as we were constrained back again, and to creep on our bellies, before we came to the light. It is reported Nero had once resolved to cut a channel for two great galleys that should have extended to Ostia, 150 miles distant. The people now call it Licola.
From the left side of this, we walked to Lake Avernus, which is round and completely surrounded by mountains. This lake was imagined by the poet as the entrance to hell, through which Aeneas made his descent, and where he sacrificed to Pluto and the spirits of the dead. The waters are a notably dark color, but I tasted them without any danger; hence, it is said that the river Styx has its source here. On one side, there are the beautiful ruins of a temple dedicated to Apollo, or rather Pluto, though this is disputed. Opposite this, after lighting our torches, we entered a vast cave and after walking about two hundred paces, we passed a narrow entrance that led us into a room about ten paces long and relatively wide and high; the side walls and ceiling still have some of the golden mosaic, although it's now quite decayed due to time. Here is a small cell, or rather a niche, carved out of solid rock, somewhat resembling a bed, where they say the Sibyl rested and gave her Oracles; however, most people believe it was just a bath. This underground grotto leads all the way to Cuma, but in some places it’s blocked by earth that has collapsed, so we had to turn back and crawl on our bellies before we reached the light. It is said that Nero once planned to create a channel for two large galleys that would extend all the way to Ostia, which is 150 miles away. The people now call it Licola.
From hence, we ascended to that most ancient city of Italy, the renowned Cuma, built by the Grecians. It stands on a very eminent promontory, but is now a heap of ruins. A little below, stands the Arco Felice, heretofore part of Apollo's Temple, with the foundations of divers goodly buildings; among whose heaps are frequently found statues and other antiquities, by such as[Pg 158] dig for them. Near this is the Lake Acherutia, and Acheron. Returning to the shore, we came to the Bagni de Tritoli and Diana, which are only long narrow passages cut through the main rock, where the vapors ascend so hot, that entering with the body erect you will even faint with excessive perspiration; but, stooping lower, as sudden a cold surprises. These sudatories are much in request for many infirmities. Now we entered the haven of the Bahiæ, where once stood that famous town, so-called from the companion of Ulysses here buried; not without great reason celebrated for one of the most delicious places that the sun shines on, according to that of Horace:
From there, we climbed to the ancient city of Cuma, famous in Italy and built by the Greeks. It sits atop a prominent cliff but is now just a pile of ruins. A little lower down is the Arco Felice, once part of Apollo's Temple, along with the foundations of various grand buildings; among these ruins, statues and other artifacts are often discovered by those who[Pg 158] dig for them. Nearby is Lake Acherutia and the Acheron River. Returning to the shore, we arrived at the Bagni de Tritoli and Diana, which are just narrow passages carved through the main rock. The steam that rises is so hot that if you enter standing up, you might faint from sweating; but if you bend down, a sudden chill will catch you off guard. These steam rooms are popular for treating many ailments. We then entered the harbor of the Bahiæ, where the famous town once stood, named after the companion of Ulysses who is buried here; it is celebrated for being one of the most delightful places under the sun, as Horace noted:
"Nullus in Orbe locus Baiis prælucet amœnis."
"No place in the world shines brighter than the lovely Baiae."
Though, as to the stately fabrics, there now remain little save the ruins, whereof the most entire is that of Diana's Temple, and another of Venus. Here were those famous poles of lampreys that would come to hand when called by name, as Martial tells us. On the summit of the rock stands a strong castle garrisoned to protect the shore from Turkish pirates. It was once the retiring place of Julius Cæsar.
Though, regarding the grand structures, not much is left except for the ruins, of which the most intact is Diana's Temple, along with another dedicated to Venus. Here were those famous poles of lampreys that would appear when called by name, as Martial mentions. At the top of the rock stands a strong castle, manned to protect the shore from Turkish pirates. It was once a retreat for Julius Caesar.
Passing by the shore again, we entered Bauli, observable from the monstrous murder of Nero committed on his mother Agrippina. Her sepulchre was yet shown us in the rock, which we entered, being covered with sundry heads and figures of beasts. We saw there the roots of a tree turned into stone, and are continually dropping.
Passing by the shore again, we reached Bauli, noticeable from the terrible crime of Nero against his mother Agrippina. Her tomb was still shown to us in the rock, which we entered, covered with various heads and figures of animals. We saw the roots of a tree turned to stone, constantly dripping.
Thus having viewed the foundations of the old Cimmeria, the palaces of Marius, Pompey, Nero, Hortensius, and other villas and antiquities, we proceeded toward the promontory of Misenus, renowned for the sepulchre of Æneas's Trumpeter. It was once a great city, now hardly a ruin, said to have been built from this place to the promontory of Minerva, fifty miles distant, now discontinued and demolished by the frequent earthquakes. Here was the villa of Caius Marius, where Tiberius Cæsar died; and here runs the Aqueduct, thought to be dug by Nero, a stupendous passage, heretofore nobly arched with marble, as the ruins testify. Hence, we walked to those receptacles of water called Piscina Mirabilis, being a[Pg 159] vault of 500 feet long, and twenty-two in breadth, the roof propped up with four ranks of square pillars, twelve in a row; the walls are brick, plastered over with such a composition as for strength and politure resembles white marble. 'Tis conceived to have been built by Nero, as a conservatory for fresh water; as were also the Centi Camerelli, into which we were next led. All these crypta being now almost sunk into the earth, show yet their former amplitude and magnificence.
Having seen the foundations of old Cimmeria, the palaces of Marius, Pompey, Nero, Hortensius, and other villas and ancient sites, we made our way toward the promontory of Misenus, famous for the tomb of Æneas's Trumpeter. It used to be a great city, now barely a ruin, believed to have stretched from here to the promontory of Minerva, fifty miles away, now abandoned and destroyed by frequent earthquakes. Here was the villa of Caius Marius, where Tiberius Caesar died; and here runs the Aqueduct, thought to have been dug by Nero, an impressive passage once grandly arched with marble, as the ruins show. From here, we walked to the water storage area called Piscina Mirabilis, a vault 500 feet long and twenty-two feet wide, supported by four rows of square pillars, twelve in a row. The walls are made of brick, coated with a mix that for strength and polish resembles white marble. It is believed to have been built by Nero as a reservoir for fresh water; as were the Centi Camerelli, which we visited next. All these crypts are now nearly buried in the ground, but they still show their former size and grandeur.
Returning toward the Baia, we again pass the Elysian Fields, so celebrated by the poets, nor unworthily, for their situation and verdure, being full of myrtles and sweet shrubs, and having a most delightful prospect toward the Tyrrhene Sea. Upon the verge of these remain the ruins of the Mercato di Saboto, formerly a Circus; over the arches stand divers urns, full of Roman ashes.
Returning toward the Bay, we pass the Elysian Fields again, which are much praised by poets, and rightly so, because of their lush greenery filled with myrtles and fragrant shrubs, along with a beautiful view of the Tyrrhenian Sea. At the edge of these fields are the ruins of the Mercato di Saboto, which used to be a Circus; above the arches stand various urns filled with Roman ashes.
Having well satisfied our curiosity among these antiquities, we retired to our felucca, which rowed us back again toward Pozzolo, at the very place of St. Paul's landing. Keeping along the shore, they showed us a place where the sea water and sands did exceedingly boil. Thence, to the island Nesis, once the fabulous Nymph; and thus we leave the Baia, so renowned for the sweet retirements of the most opulent and voluptuous Romans. They certainly were places of uncommon amenity, as their yet tempting site, and other circumstances of natural curiosities, easily invite me to believe, since there is not in the world so many stupendous rarities to be met with, as in the circle of a few miles which environ these blissful abodes.
After satisfying our curiosity about these ancient artifacts, we returned to our boat, which took us back toward Pozzolo, right where St. Paul landed. As we followed the shore, they pointed out a spot where the seawater and sand boiled dramatically. From there, we headed to Nesis, once the home of the legendary Nymph; and thus we leave Baia, famous for its serene retreats enjoyed by the wealthiest and most indulgent Romans. These places were undoubtedly charming, as their appealing location and other natural wonders strongly suggest, since there are few places in the world that boast such incredible rarities within just a few miles surrounding these delightful spots.
8th February, 1645. Returned to Naples, we went to see the Arsenal, well furnished with galleys and other vessels. The city is crowded with inhabitants, gentlemen and merchants. The government is held of the Pope by an annual tribute of 40,000 ducats and a white jennet; but the Spaniard trusts more to the power of those his natural subjects there; Apulia and Calabria yielding him near four millions of crowns yearly to maintain it. The country is divided into thirteen Provinces, twenty Archbishops, and one hundred and seven Bishops; the estates of the nobility, in default of the male line, reverting to the King. Besides the Vice-Roy, there is[Pg 160] among the Chief Magistrates a High Constable, Admiral, Chief Justice, Great Chamberlain, and Chancellor, with a Secretary; these being prodigiously avaricious, do wonderfully enrich themselves out of the miserable people's labor, silks, manna, sugar, oil, wine, rice, sulphur, and alum; for with all these riches is this delicious country blest. The manna falls at certain seasons on the adjoining hills in form of a thick dew. The very winter here is a summer, ever fruitful, so that in the middle of February we had melons, cherries, apricots, and many other sorts of fruit.
8th February, 1645. After returning to Naples, we visited the Arsenal, which was well-stocked with galleys and other ships. The city is bustling with people, including gentlemen and merchants. The government is controlled by the Pope through an annual payment of 40,000 ducats and a white jennet; however, the Spaniards rely more on the power of their local subjects. Apulia and Calabria contribute nearly four million crowns a year to support this. The region is divided into thirteen provinces, with twenty archbishops and one hundred and seven bishops; the estates of the nobility revert to the King if there are no male heirs. Besides the Viceroy, there is[Pg 160] among the chief magistrates a High Constable, Admiral, Chief Justice, Great Chamberlain, and Chancellor, along with a Secretary; these officials, being incredibly greedy, enrich themselves at the expense of the struggling populace, who provide labor for silks, manna, sugar, oil, wine, rice, sulfur, and alum. This beautiful country is blessed with all these riches. Manna falls in certain seasons on the nearby hills, appearing as a thick dew. Even winter here feels like summer, always fruitful, so that in mid-February we had melons, cherries, apricots, and many other types of fruit.
The building of the city is for the size the most magnificent of any in Europe, the streets exceeding large, well paved, having many vaults and conveyances under them for the sulliage; which renders them very sweet and clean, even in the midst of winter. To it belongeth more than 3,000 churches and monasteries, and these the best built and adorned of any in Italy. They greatly affect the Spanish gravity in their habit; delight in good horses; the streets are full of gallants on horseback, in coaches and sedans, from hence brought first into England by Sir Sanders Duncomb. The women are generally well featured, but excessively libidinous. The country people so jovial and addicted to music, that the very husbandmen almost universally play on the guitar, singing and composing songs in praise of their sweethearts, and will commonly go to the field with their fiddle; they are merry, witty, and genial; all which I much attribute to the excellent quality of the air. They have a deadly hatred to the French, so that some of our company were flouted at for wearing red cloaks, as the mode then was.
The city is one of the largest and most impressive in Europe, with wide streets that are nicely paved and have many underground passages for waste, keeping them clean and pleasant even in winter. There are more than 3,000 churches and monasteries here, which are the best constructed and decorated in all of Italy. The locals take inspiration from the Spanish style in their clothing and enjoy riding good horses; the streets are filled with stylish people on horseback, in carriages, and in sedan chairs, which were first brought to England by Sir Sanders Duncomb. The women are generally attractive but quite flirtatious. The country folks are so cheerful and love music that even the farmers often play the guitar, singing and writing songs for their sweethearts, and they typically head to the fields with their fiddles; they are joyful, clever, and friendly. I credit much of this to the great quality of the air. They have a strong dislike for the French, to the point that some of our group were teased for wearing red cloaks, which was the fashion at the time.
This I made the non ultra of my travels, sufficiently sated with rolling up and down, and resolving within myself to be no longer an individuum vagum, if ever I got home again; since, from the report of divers experienced and curious persons, I had been assured there was little more to be seen in the rest of the civil world, after Italy, France, Flanders, and the Low Countries, but plain and prodigious barbarism.
This I made the non ultra of my travels, feeling fairly content with my experiences going back and forth, and deciding within myself that I would no longer be an individuum vagum, if I ever made it home again; since, according to various knowledgeable and curious people, I had been told there wasn’t much left to see in the rest of the civilized world after Italy, France, Flanders, and the Low Countries, but sheer and impressive barbarism.
Thus, about the 7th of February,27 we set out on our return to Rome by the same way we came, not daring[Pg 161] to adventure by sea, as some of our company were inclined to do, for fear of Turkish pirates hovering on that coast; nor made we any stay save at Albano, to view the celebrated place and sepulchre of the famous duelists who decided the ancient quarrel between their imperious neighbors with the loss of their lives. These brothers, the Horatii and Curiatii, lie buried near the highway, under two ancient pyramids of stone, now somewhat decayed and overgrown with rubbish. We took the opportunity of tasting the wine here, which is famous.
So, around February 7th,27 we started our journey back to Rome the same way we came, not daring[Pg 161] to risk traveling by sea, even though some of our group wanted to, because we were worried about Turkish pirates in that area. We only stopped at Albano to see the famous site and the burial place of the renowned duelists who settled their ancient dispute at the cost of their lives. These brothers, the Horatii and Curiatii, are buried near the road, beneath two old stone pyramids that are now a bit worn and covered in debris. We took the chance to try the wine here, which is well-known.
Being arrived at Rome on the 13th of February, we were again invited to Signor Angeloni's study, where with greater leisure we surveyed the rarities, as his cabinet and medals especially, esteemed one of the best collections of them in Europe. He also showed us two antique lamps, one of them dedicated to Pallas, the other Laribus Sacru', as appeared by their inscriptions; some old Roman rings and keys; the Egyptian Isis, cast in iron; sundry rare basso-relievos; good pieces of paintings, principally of Christ of Correggio, with this painter's own face admirably done by himself; divers of both the Bassanos; a great number of pieces by Titian, particularly the Triumphs; an infinity of natural rarities, dried animals, Indian habits and weapons, shells, etc.; divers very antique statues of brass; some lamps of so fine an earth that they resembled cornelians, for transparency and color; hinges of Corinthian brass, and one great nail of the same metal found in the ruins of Nero's golden house.
Arriving in Rome on February 13th, we were once again invited to Signor Angeloni's study, where we had more time to explore his collection. His cabinet and medals are considered some of the finest in Europe. He also showed us two ancient lamps—one dedicated to Pallas and the other to the Lares, as indicated by their inscriptions—along with some old Roman rings and keys, an iron casting of Egyptian Isis, various rare bas-reliefs, notable paintings, especially a depiction of Christ by Correggio, featuring the artist’s own likeness; several works by both Bassano brothers; numerous pieces by Titian, particularly the Triumphs; countless natural curiosities, dried animals, Indian clothing and weapons, shells, and various very old statues made of brass; some lamps made from such fine clay that they looked like carnelians, due to their transparency and color; hinges of Corinthian brass; and a large nail of the same metal found in the ruins of Nero's golden house.
In the afternoon, we ferried over to Transtevere, to the palace of Gichi, to review the works of Raphael: and, returning by St. Angelo, we saw the castle as far as was permitted, and on the other side considered those admirable pilasters supposed to be of the foundation of the Pons Sublicius, over which Horatius Cocles passed; here anchor three or four water mills, invented by Belizarius: and thence had another sight of the Farnesi's gardens, and of the terrace where is that admirable painting of Raphael, being a Cupid playing with a Dolphin, wrought á fresco, preserved in shutters of wainscot, as well it merits, being certainly one of the most wonderful pieces of work in the world.
In the afternoon, we took a ferry to Trastevere, to visit the Gichi palace and check out Raphael's works. On our way back, we passed St. Angelo and got to see the castle as much as we could. On the other side, we admired those amazing pilasters, thought to be part of the foundation of the Pons Sublicius, where Horatius Cocles crossed; here are three or four water mills, designed by Belisarius. From there, we had another view of the Farnesi gardens and the terrace featuring that incredible painting by Raphael of Cupid playing with a dolphin, done in fresco, and well-protected in wooden shutters, as it certainly deserves, being one of the most remarkable artworks in the world.
14th February, 1645. I went to Santa Cecilia, a church built and endowed by Cardinal Sfrondæti, who has erected[Pg 162] a stately altar near the body of this martyr, not long before found in a vesture of silk girt about, a veil on her head, and the bloody scars of three wounds on the neck; the body is now in a silver chest, with her statue over it, in snow-white marble. Other Saints lie here, decorated with splendid ornaments, lamps, and incensories of great cost. A little farther, they show us the Bath of St. Cecilia, to which joins a Convent of Friars, where is the picture of the Flagellation by Vanni, and the columns of the portico, taken from the Baths of Septimius Severus.
14th February, 1645. I visited Santa Cecilia, a church built and funded by Cardinal Sfrondæti, who has raised[Pg 162] an impressive altar near the remains of this martyr, recently found dressed in silk, with a veil on her head, and the bloody marks of three wounds on her neck; the body is now kept in a silver chest, with her statue above it, made of pure white marble. Other Saints rest here, adorned with beautiful decorations, lamps, and costly incense holders. A little further on, they show us the Bath of St. Cecilia, which adjoins a Convent of Friars, where there’s a painting of the Flagellation by Vanni, along with columns from the portico, taken from the Baths of Septimius Severus.
15th February, 1645. Mr. Henshaw and I walked by the Tiber, and visited the Stola Tybertina (now St. Bartholomew's), formerly cut in the shape of a ship, and wharfed with marble, in which a lofty obelisk represented the mast. In the church of St. Bartholomew is the body of the Apostle. Here are the ruins of the Temple of Æsculapius, now converted into a stately hospital and a pretty convent. Opposite to it, is the convent and church of St. John Calabita, where I saw nothing remarkable, save an old broken altar. Here was the Temple of Fortuna Virilis. Hence, we went to a cupola, now a church, formerly dedicated to the sun. Opposite to it, Santa Maria Schola Græca, where formerly that tongue was taught; said to be the second church dedicated in Rome to the Blessed Virgin; bearing also the title of a Cardinalate. Behind this stands the great altar of Hercules, much demolished. Near this, being at the foot of Mount Aventine, are the Pope's salt houses. Ascending the hill, we came to St. Sabina, an ancient fabric, formerly sacred to Diana; there, in a chapel, is an admirable picture, the work of Livia Fontana, set about with columns of alabaster, and in the middle of the church is a stone, cast, as they report, by the Devil at St. Dominic, while he was at mass. Hence, we traveled toward a heap of rubbish, called the Marmorata, on the bank of the Tiber, a magazine of stones; and near which formerly stood a triumphal arch, in honor of Horatius vanquishing the Tuscans. The ruins of the bridge yet appear.
15th February, 1645. Mr. Henshaw and I walked along the Tiber and visited the Stola Tybertina (now St. Bartholomew's), which used to be shaped like a ship and decorated with marble, with a tall obelisk serving as the mast. In the church of St. Bartholomew is the body of the Apostle. Here are the ruins of the Temple of Æsculapius, now turned into a grand hospital and a lovely convent. Across from it is the convent and church of St. John Calabita, where I didn't see anything notable except for an old broken altar. This was once the Temple of Fortuna Virilis. From there, we headed to a dome, now a church, that was formerly dedicated to the sun. Opposite it is Santa Maria Schola Græca, where that language was once taught; it's said to be the second church in Rome dedicated to the Blessed Virgin and also has the title of a Cardinalate. Behind this stands the great altar of Hercules, which is much ruined. Close by, at the foot of Mount Aventine, are the Pope's salt houses. Climbing the hill, we reached St. Sabina, an ancient structure that was once sacred to Diana. There, in a chapel, is a remarkable painting by Livia Fontana, surrounded by alabaster columns, and in the center of the church is a stone that, as it's said, was thrown by the Devil at St. Dominic while he was at mass. From there, we made our way to a pile of rubble called the Marmorata, on the bank of the Tiber, a storage place for stones; nearby stood a triumphal arch in honor of Horatius defeating the Tuscans. The ruins of the bridge are still visible.
We were now got to Mons Testaceus, a heap of potsherds, almost 200 feet high, thought to have been thrown there and amassed by the subjects of the Commonwealth bringing their tribute in earthen vessels, others (more probably) that it was a quarter of the town where pot[Pg 163]ters lived; at the summit Rome affords a noble prospect. Before it is a spacious green, called the Hippodrome, where Olympic games were celebrated, and the people mustered, as in our London Artillery-Ground. Going hence, to the old wall of the city, we much admired the pyramid, or tomb, of Caius Cestius, of white marble, one of the most ancient entire monuments, inserted in the wall, with this inscription:
We had now arrived at Mons Testaceus, a mound of pottery shards nearly 200 feet high, believed to have been created by the subjects of the Commonwealth who brought their tribute in clay vessels. Others (more likely) thought it was a section of the town where potters lived. At the top, Rome offers a magnificent view. In front of it lies a large green area called the Hippodrome, where the Olympic games were held, and where people gathered, similar to our London Artillery Ground. From there, heading to the old city wall, we admired the pyramid, or tomb, of Caius Cestius, made of white marble, one of the oldest intact monuments, built into the wall, with this inscription:
"C. Cestius L. F. Pob. Epulo (an order of priests) Pr. Tr. pl. VII. Vir. Epulonum."
"C. Cestius L. F. Pob. Epulo (a group of priests) Pr. Tr. pl. VII. Vir. Epulonum."
And a little beneath:
And a bit below:
"Opus absolutum ex testamento diebus CCCXXX. arbitratu. Ponti P. F. Cla. Melæ Heredis et Pothi L."
"Final work from the will over the course of 330 days. By the decision of Ponti P. F. Cla. Melæ Heir and Pothi L."
At the left hand, is the Port of St. Paul, once Tergemina, out of which the three Horatii passed to encounter the Curiatii of Albano. Hence, bending homeward by St. Saba, by Antoninus's baths (which we entered), is the marble sepulchre of Vespasian. The thickness of the walls and the stately ruins show the enormous magnitude of these baths. Passing by a corner of the Circus Maximus, we viewed the place where stood the Septizonium, demolished by Sextus V., for fear of its falling. Going by Mons Cœlius, we beheld the devotions of St. Maria in Naviculâ, so named from a ship carved out in white marble standing on a pedestal before it, supposed to be the vow of one escaped from shipwreck. It has a glorious front to the street. Adjoining to this are the Hortii Mathæi, which only of all the places about the city I omitted visiting, though I was told inferior to no garden in Rome for statues, ancient monuments, aviaries, fountains, groves, and especially a noble obelisk, and maintained in beauty at an expense of 6,000 crowns yearly, which, if not expended to keep up its beauty, forfeits the possession of a greater revenue to another family: so curious are they in their villas and places of pleasure, even to excess.
On the left is the Port of St. Paul, formerly known as Tergemina, from where the three Horatii set out to face the Curiatii of Albano. Then, heading back towards St. Saba, past Antoninus's baths (which we visited), we come to the marble tomb of Vespasian. The thick walls and grand ruins reveal the immense size of these baths. As we passed a corner of the Circus Maximus, we noticed the site where the Septizonium used to stand, demolished by Sextus V. out of fear it would collapse. Moving past Mons Cœlius, we saw the shrine of St. Maria in Naviculâ, named for a ship carved from white marble that sits on a pedestal in front of it, believed to be a vow from someone who survived a shipwreck. It has a stunning facade facing the street. Next to this are the Hortii Mathæi, which I skipped visiting, even though I was told it rivals any garden in Rome with its statues, ancient monuments, aviaries, fountains, and particularly a magnificent obelisk. It is kept beautifully at a cost of 6,000 crowns annually, and failing to use that money for maintenance would mean losing the right to a much greater income for another family: they are so particular about their villas and pleasure places, to the point of excess.
The next day, we went to the once famous Circus Caracalla, in the midst of which there now lay prostrate one of the most stately and ancient obelisks, full of Egyptian hieroglyphics. It was broken into four pieces, when overthrown by the Barbarians, and would have been purchased and transported into England by the magnificent[Pg 164] Thomas Earl of Arundel, could it have been well removed to the sea. This is since set together and placed on the stupendous artificial rock made by Innocent X., and serving for a fountain in Piazza Navona, the work of Bernini, the Pope's architect. Near this is the sepulchre of Metellus, of massy stone, pretty entire, now called Capo di Bovo. Hence, to a small oratory, named "Domine, quo vadis"; where the tradition is, that our Blessed Savior met St. Peter as he fled, and turned him back again.
The next day, we visited the once-famous Circus Caracalla, where now lies one of the most impressive and ancient obelisks, covered in Egyptian hieroglyphics. It was broken into four pieces when it was toppled by the Barbarians and would have been bought and transported to England by the magnificent[Pg 164] Thomas Earl of Arundel, if it could have been safely moved to the sea. It has since been reassembled and placed on the massive artificial rock created by Innocent X. that serves as a fountain in Piazza Navona, designed by Bernini, the Pope's architect. Nearby is the tomb of Metellus, made of solid stone and still pretty intact, now known as Capo di Bovo. From there, we went to a small chapel called "Domine, quo vadis"; according to tradition, this is where our Blessed Savior met St. Peter as he was fleeing and turned him back.
St. Sebastian's was the next, a mean structure (the facciáta excepted), but is venerable, especially for the relics and grots, in which lie the ashes of many holy men. Here is kept the pontifical chair sprinkled with the blood of Pope Stephen, to which great devotion is paid; also a well full of martyrs' bones, and the sepulchre of St. Sebastian, with one of the arrows (used in shooting him). These are preserved by the Fulgentine Monks, who have here their monastery, and who led us down into a grotto which they affirmed went divers furlongs under ground; the sides, or walls which we passed were filled with bones and dead bodies, laid (as it were) on shelves, whereof some were shut up with broad stones and now and then a cross, or a palm, cut in them. At the end of some of these subterranean passages, were square rooms with altars in them, said to have been the receptacles of primitive Christians, in the times of persecution, nor seems it improbable.
St. Sebastian's was next, a simple building (the facciáta excepted), but it has a long history, especially because of the relics and grottoes containing the ashes of many holy men. It houses the pontifical chair splattered with the blood of Pope Stephen, which is treated with great reverence; there's also a well filled with martyrs' bones, and the tomb of St. Sebastian, along with one of the arrows that were used to shoot him. These are cared for by the Fulgentine Monks, who have their monastery here, and they led us down into a grotto that they claimed extends several furlongs underground; the walls we passed were lined with bones and dead bodies, arranged like shelves, some sealed with large stones and occasionally marked with a cross or a palm carved into them. At the end of some of these underground corridors were square rooms with altars, said to have been places where early Christians hid during times of persecution, which seems quite plausible.
17th February, 1645. I was invited, after dinner, to the Academy of the Humorists, kept in a spacious hall belonging to Signor Mancini, where the wits of the town meet on certain days to recite poems, and debate on several subjects. The first that speaks is called the Lord, and stands in an eminent place, and then the rest of the Virtuosi recite in order. By these ingenious exercises, besides the learned discourses, is the purity of the Italian tongue daily improved. The room is hung round with devices, or emblems, with mottoes under them. There are several other Academies of this nature, bearing like fantastical titles. In this of the Humorists is the picture of Guarini, the famous author of the Pastor Fido, once of this society. The chief part of the day we spent in hearing the academic exercises.[Pg 165]
17th February, 1645. After dinner, I was invited to the Academy of Humorists, held in a large hall owned by Signor Mancini, where the clever minds of the town gather on certain days to share poetry and discuss various topics. The first person to speak is called the Lord and stands in a prominent spot, followed by the rest of the Virtuosi who recite in turn. Through these creative activities, along with learned discussions, the purity of the Italian language is improved daily. The room is decorated with various devices, or emblems, each with its own motto underneath. There are several other Academies like this, each with similarly imaginative names. In this Academy of Humorists hangs a portrait of Guarini, the famous author of Pastor Fido, who was once a member of this group. We spent most of the day enjoying the academic performances.[Pg 165]
18th February, 1645. We walked to St. Nicholas in Carcere; it has a fair front, and within are parts of the bodies of St. Mark and Marcellino; on the Tribuna is a painting of Gentileschi, and the altar of Caval; Baglioni, with some other rare paintings. Coming round from hence we passed by the Circus Flaminius, formerly very large, now totally in ruins. In the afternoon, we visited the English Jesuits, with whose Superior, P. Stafford, I was well acquainted; who received us courteously. They call their church and college St. Thomasso de gli Inglesi, and is a seminary. Among other trifles, they show the relics of Becket, their reputed martyr. Of paintings there is one of Durante, and many representing the sufferings of several of their society executed in England, especially F. Campion.
18th February, 1645. We walked to St. Nicholas in Carcere; it has a beautiful façade, and inside are parts of the bodies of St. Mark and Marcellino; on the Tribuna is a painting by Gentileschi, and the altar by Caval; Baglioni, along with some other rare paintings. On our way back, we passed the Circus Flaminius, which used to be very large but is now completely in ruins. In the afternoon, we visited the English Jesuits, whose Superior, P. Stafford, I knew well; he welcomed us warmly. They call their church and college St. Thomasso de gli Inglesi, and it serves as a seminary. Among other items, they showcase the relics of Becket, their celebrated martyr. Among the paintings is one by Durante, along with many depicting the sufferings of various members of their society executed in England, especially F. Campion.
In the Hospital of the Pelerini della S. Trinita, I had seen the feet of many pilgrims washed by Princes, Cardinals, and noble Romans, and served at table, as the ladies and noble women did to other poor creatures in another room. It was told us that no less than 444,000 men had been thus treated in the Jubilee of 1600, and 25,500 women, as appears by the register, which brings store of money.
In the Hospital of the Pilgrims of St. Trinity, I had seen the feet of many pilgrims washed by princes, cardinals, and noble Romans, and served at the table, just like the ladies and noblewomen served other less fortunate people in another room. We were told that no less than 444,000 men had been treated this way during the Jubilee of 1600, and 25,500 women, as noted in the register, which brings in a lot of money.
Returning homeward, I saw the palace of Cardinal Spada, where is a most magnificent hall painted by Daniel de Volterra and Giulio Piacentino, who made the fret in the little Court; but the rare perspectives are of Bolognesi. Near this is the Mont Pieta, instituted as a bank for the poor, who, if the sum be not great, may have money upon pawns. To this joins St. Martino, to which belongs a Schola, or Corporation, that do many works of charity. Hence we came through Campo di Fiori, or herb-market, in the midst of which is a fountain casting out water of a dolphin, in copper; and in this piazza is common execution done.
On my way home, I saw the palace of Cardinal Spada, which has a stunning hall painted by Daniel de Volterra and Giulio Piacentino, who did the decorations in the small courtyard; however, the amazing perspectives were done by Bolognesi. Close by is Mont Pieta, set up as a bank for the poor, where those with not much money can pawn their belongings. Next to this is St. Martino, which has a Schola, or Corporation, that does a lot of charitable work. From there, we passed through Campo di Fiori, or herb market, where there’s a fountain with a copper dolphin that spouts water; this piazza is also a common place for executions.
19th February, 1645. I went, this afternoon, to visit my Lord John Somerset, brother to the Marquis of Worcester, who had his apartment in Palazzo della Cancellaria, belonging to Cardinal Francesco Barberini, as Vice-chancellor of the Church of Rome, and Protector of the English. The building is of the famous architect, Bramante, of incrusted marble, with four ranks of noble lights; the principal entrance is of Fontana's design, and[Pg 166] all marble; the portico within sustained by massy columns; on the second peristyle above, the chambers are rarely painted by Salviati and Vasari; and so ample is this palace, that six princes with their families have been received in it at one time, without incommoding each other.
19th February, 1645. This afternoon, I went to visit Lord John Somerset, brother of the Marquis of Worcester, who had his apartments in the Palazzo della Cancellaria, which belongs to Cardinal Francesco Barberini, the Vice-Chancellor of the Church of Rome and Protector of the English. The building was designed by the famous architect Bramante, made of inlaid marble, with four rows of elegant windows; the main entrance is designed by Fontana and is entirely made of marble; the portico inside is supported by massive columns; on the second level above, the rooms are beautifully painted by Salviati and Vasari; and this palace is so spacious that it can accommodate six princes and their families at the same time without crowding each other.
20th February, 1645. I went, as was my usual custom, and spent an afternoon in Piazza Navona, as well as to see what antiquities I could purchase among the people who hold market there for medals, pictures, and such curiosities, as to hear the mountebanks prate and distribute their medicines. This was formerly the Circus, or Agonales, dedicated to sports and pastimes, and is now the greatest market of the city, having three most noble fountains, and the stately palaces of the Pamfilii, St. Giacomo de Spagnoli belonging to that nation, to which add two convents for friars and nuns, all Spanish. In this Church was erected a most stately catafalco, or capellar ardente, for the death of the Queen of Spain; the church was hung with black, and here I heard a Spanish sermon, or funeral oration, and observed the statues, devices, and impresses hung about the walls, the church and pyramid stuck with thousands of lights and tapers, which made a glorious show. The statue of St. James is by Sansovino; there are also some good pictures of Caracci. The facciáta, too, is fair. Returning home, I passed by the stumps of old Pasquin, at the corner of a street, called Strada Pontificia; here they still paste up their drolling lampoons and scurrilous papers. This had formerly been one of the best statues for workmanship and art in all the city, as the remaining bust does still show.
20th February, 1645. I went, as I usually do, and spent the afternoon in Piazza Navona, checking out the antiques I could buy from the vendors selling medals, pictures, and curiosities, and to listen to the street performers promoting their medicines. This used to be the Circus, or Agonales, dedicated to sports and entertainment, and now it’s the biggest market in the city, featuring three impressive fountains and the grand palaces of the Pamfilii, along with St. Giacomo de Spagnoli that belongs to that nation, plus two convents for friars and nuns, all Spanish. In this church, they set up a grand catafalque, or funeral display, for the Queen of Spain's death; the church was draped in black, and I listened to a Spanish sermon, or eulogy, while taking in the statues, decorations, and symbols displayed on the walls, the church and pyramid adorned with thousands of lights and candles, creating a stunning sight. The statue of St. James is by Sansovino; there are also some great paintings by Caracci. The facciáta is beautiful as well. On my way home, I passed by the remnants of old Pasquin at the corner of a street called Strada Pontificia; here, they still post their humorous satirical papers and mocking flyers. This used to be one of the finest statues in the city in terms of craftsmanship and art, as the remaining bust still shows.
21st February, 1645. I walked in the morning up the hill toward the Capuchins, where was then Cardinal Unufrio (brother to the late Pope Urban VIII.) of the same order. He built them a pretty church, full of rare pictures, and there lies the body of St. Felix, that they say still does miracles. The piece at the great altar is by Lanfranc. It is a lofty edifice, with a beautiful avenue of trees, and in a good air. After dinner, passing along the Strada del Corso, I observed the column of Antoninus, passing under Arco Portugallo, which is but a relic, heretofore erected in honor of Domitian, called now Portugallo, from a Cardinal living near it. A little further on the right hand stands the column in a small piazza, here[Pg 167]tofore set up in honor of M. Aurelius Antoninus, comprehending in a basso-relievo of white marble his hostile acts against the Parthians, Armenians, Germans, etc; but it is now somewhat decayed. On the summit has been placed the image of St. Paul, of gilded copper. The pillar is said to be 161 feet high, ascended by 207 steps, receiving light by fifty-six apertures, without defacing the sculpture.
21st February, 1645. I walked in the morning up the hill toward the Capuchin monastery, where Cardinal Unufrio (brother of the late Pope Urban VIII) was at that time. He built them a lovely church, filled with rare paintings, and the body of St. Felix, who is said to still perform miracles, is resting there. The piece at the main altar is by Lanfranc. It’s a tall building with a beautiful tree-lined path and fresh air. After lunch, as I walked along the Strada del Corso, I noticed the column of Antoninus as I passed under the Arco Portugallo, which is just a remnant previously erected in honor of Domitian, now called Portugallo after a Cardinal who lives nearby. A little further on the right stands the column in a small square, previously set up in honor of Marcus Aurelius Antoninus, featuring a white marble bas-relief depicting his military actions against the Parthians, Armenians, Germans, and others; but it is now somewhat worn. At the top, there is a statue of St. Paul made of gilded copper. The pillar is said to be 161 feet high, accessed by 207 steps, and it receives light through fifty-six openings without damaging the sculpture.
At a little distance, are the relics of the Emperor's palace, the heads of whose pillars show them to have been Corinthian.
At a short distance, there are the remains of the Emperor's palace, with the tops of the pillars indicating that they were Corinthian.
Turning a little down, we came to another piazza, in which stands a sumptuous vase of porphyry, and a fair fountain; but the grace of this market, and indeed the admiration of the whole world, is the Pantheon, now called S. Maria della Rotonda, formerly sacred to all the Gods, and still remaining the most entire antiquity of the city. It was built by Marcus Agrippa, as testifies the architrave of the portico, sustained by thirteen pillars of Theban marble, six feet thick, and fifty-three in height, of one entire stone. In this porch is an old inscription.
Turning slightly down, we arrived at another square, which features an impressive porphyry vase and a beautiful fountain. However, the true charm of this market, and indeed the admiration of the entire world, is the Pantheon, now known as S. Maria della Rotonda. Once dedicated to all the gods, it still stands as the best-preserved monument of the city. It was built by Marcus Agrippa, as confirmed by the inscription on the architrave of the portico, which is supported by thirteen pillars made of Theban marble, each six feet thick and fifty-three feet tall, carved from a single stone. There is an ancient inscription in this porch.
Entering the church, we admire the fabric, wholly covered with one cupola, seemingly suspended in the air, and receiving light by a hole in the middle only. The structure is near as high as broad, viz, 144 feet, not counting the thickness of the walls, which is twenty-two more to the top, all of white marble; and, till Urban VIII. converted part of the metal into ordnance of war against the Duke of Parma, and part to make the high altar in St. Peter's, it was all over covered with Corinthian brass, ascending by forty degrees within the roof, or convex, of the cupola, richly carved in octagons in the stone. There are niches in the walls, in which stood heretofore the statues of Jupiter and the other Gods and Goddesses; for here was that Venus which had hung in her ear the other Union28 that Cleopatra was about to dis[Pg 168]solve and drink up, as she had done its fellow. There are several of these niches, one above another for the celestial, terrestrial, and subterranean deities; but the place is now converted into a church dedicated to the Blessed Virgin and all the Saints. The pavement is excellent, and the vast folding-gates, of Corinthian brass. In a word, it is of all the Roman antiquities the most worthy of notice. There lie interred in this Temple the famous Raphael di Urbino, Perino del Vaga, F. Zuccharo, and other painters.
Entering the church, we admire the structure, completely topped with a single dome, seemingly floating in the air and lit by a hole in the center. The building is almost as tall as it is wide, about 144 feet, not including the 22 feet extra from the thickness of the walls, all made of white marble. Until Urban VIII converted some of the metal into war cannon against the Duke of Parma and used more for the high altar in St. Peter's, it was entirely covered with Corinthian brass, sloping up at a forty-degree angle inside the dome, which is richly carved in octagons in the stone. There are niches in the walls where the statues of Jupiter and other gods and goddesses once stood; here was the Venus that Cleopatra was about to dissolve and drink up, just as she had done with its twin. There are several of these niches, stacked for celestial, terrestrial, and underground deities; however, the place is now a church dedicated to the Blessed Virgin and all the Saints. The flooring is exquisite, and the enormous folding gates are made of Corinthian brass. In short, it is the most remarkable of all Roman antiquities. This Temple is the final resting place of the famous Raphael di Urbino, Perino del Vaga, F. Zuccharo, and other painters.
Returning home, we pass by Cardinal Cajetan's Palace, a noble piece of architecture of Vincenzo Ammanatti, which is the grace of the whole Corso.
Returning home, we walk by Cardinal Cajetan's Palace, a stunning piece of architecture by Vincenzo Ammanatti, which is the highlight of the entire Corso.
22d February, 1645. I went to Trinitá del Monte, a monastery of French, a noble church built by Louis XI. and Charles VIII., the chapels well painted, especially that by Zaccara da Volterra, and the cloister with the miracles of their St. Francis de Paulo, and the heads of the French Kings. In the pergolo above, the walls are wrought with excellent perspective, especially the St. John; there are the Babylonish dials, invented by Kircher, the Jesuit. This convent, so eminently situated on Mons Pincius, has the entire prospect of Campus Martius, and has a fair garden which joins to the Palazzo di Medici.
22nd February, 1645. I visited Trinitá del Monte, a monastery run by the French, featuring a grand church built by Louis XI and Charles VIII. The chapels are beautifully painted, especially the one by Zaccara da Volterra, and the cloister showcases the miracles of St. Francis de Paulo, alongside the portraits of the French kings. In the pergolo above, the walls display remarkable perspective, particularly the one of St. John; there are the Babylonian dials, created by Kircher, the Jesuit. This convent, located on Mons Pincius, offers a full view of the Campus Martius and has a lovely garden that connects to the Palazzo di Medici.
23d February, 1645. I went to hear a sermon at St. Giacomo degli Incurabili, a fair church built by F. da Volterra, of good architecture, and so is the hospital, where only desperate patients are brought. I passed the evening at St. Maria del Popolo, heretofore Nero's sepulchre, where his ashes lay many years in a marble chest. To this church joins the monastery of St. Augustine, which has pretty gardens on Mons Pincius, and in the church is the miraculous shrine of the Madonna which Pope Paul III. brought barefooted to the place, supplicating for a victory over the Turks in 1464. In a chapel of the Ghisi, are some rare paintings of Raphael, and noble sculptures. Those two in the choir are by Sansovino, and in the Chapel de Cerasii, a piece of Caravaggio. Here lie buried many great scholars and artists, of which I took notice of this inscription:
23rd February, 1645. I went to hear a sermon at St. Giacomo degli Incurabili, a beautiful church built by F. da Volterra, featuring impressive architecture, as does the hospital next to it, which only takes in hopeless patients. I spent the evening at St. Maria del Popolo, previously Nero's burial site, where his ashes rested for many years in a marble chest. This church is connected to the monastery of St. Augustine, which has lovely gardens on Mons Pincius, and in the church is the miraculous shrine of the Madonna that Pope Paul III. brought here barefoot, praying for a victory over the Turks in 1464. In a chapel of the Ghisi, there are some rare paintings by Raphael and remarkable sculptures. The two in the choir are by Sansovino, and in the Chapel de Cerasii, there’s a piece by Caravaggio. Many great scholars and artists are buried here, and I noticed this inscription:
"I am being dragged, I bite my finger, and I die."
Opposite to the facciátæ of the church is a superb obelisk full of hieroglyphics, the same that Sennesertus, King of Egypt, dedicated to the Sun; brought to Rome by Augustus, erected in the Circus Maximus, and since placed here by Pope Sextus V. It is eighty-eight feet high, of one entire stone, and placed with great art and engines by the famous Domenico Fontana.
Opposite the facciátæ of the church stands a magnificent obelisk covered in hieroglyphics, dedicated to the Sun by Sennesertus, King of Egypt. It was brought to Rome by Augustus, originally set up in the Circus Maximus, and later moved here by Pope Sextus V. The obelisk is eighty-eight feet tall, carved from a single stone, and was skillfully installed using advanced machinery by the renowned Domenico Fontana.
Hence, turning on the right out of the Porto del Popolo, we came to Justinian's gardens, near the Muro Torto, so prominently built as threatening every moment to fall, yet standing so for these thousand years. Under this is the burying place for the common prostitutes, where they are put into the ground, sans ceremonie.
So, turning right out of the Porto del Popolo, we arrived at Justinian's gardens, near the Muro Torto, which is built in such a way that it looks like it could collapse at any moment, yet it has stood like this for a thousand years. Below this is the burial site for common prostitutes, where they are laid to rest, sans ceremonie.
24th February, 1645. We walked to St. Roche's and Martine's, near the brink of the Tiber, a large hospital for both sexes. Hence, to the Mausoleum Augusti, between the Tiber and the Via Flaminia, now much ruined, which had formerly contended for its sumptuous architecture. It was intended as a cemetery for the Roman Emperors, had twelve ports, and was covered with a cupola of white marble, environed with stately trees and innumerable statues, all of it now converted into a garden. We passed the afternoon at the Sapienza, a very stately building full of good marbles, especially the portico, of admirable architecture. These are properly the University Schools, where lectures are read on Law, Medicine, and Anatomy, and students perform their exercises.
24th February, 1645. We walked to St. Roche's and Martine's, near the edge of the Tiber, a large hospital for both men and women. From there, we went to the Mausoleum Augusti, located between the Tiber and the Via Flaminia, which is now quite ruined but once boasted impressive architecture. It was meant to be a burial site for the Roman Emperors, featuring twelve entrances and topped with a dome made of white marble, surrounded by grand trees and countless statues, all of which have now turned into a garden. We spent the afternoon at the Sapienza, a very grand building filled with beautiful marbles, especially the portico, which is of remarkable architecture. This is essentially the University Schools, where lectures are held on Law, Medicine, and Anatomy, and students carry out their exercises.
Hence, we walked to the church of St. Andrea della Valle, near the former Theater of Pompey, and the famous Piccolomini, but given to this church and the Order, who are Theatins. The Barberini have in this place a chapel, of curious incrusted marbles of several sorts, and rare paintings. Under it is a place where St. Sebastian is said to have been beaten with rods before he was shot with darts. The cupola is painted by Lanfranc, an inestimable work, and the whole fabric and monastery adjoining are admirable.
So, we walked to the Church of St. Andrea della Valle, close to the old Theater of Pompey and the famous Piccolomini, which is dedicated to this church and the Order of Theatins. The Barberini have a chapel here with some fascinating inlaid marbles of various kinds and rare paintings. Below it is the spot where St. Sebastian is said to have been beaten with rods before being shot with darts. The dome is painted by Lanfranco, a priceless work, and the entire church and the adjoining monastery are remarkable.
25th February, 1645. I was invited by a Dominican Friar, whom we usually heard preach to a number of Jews, to be godfather to a converted Turk and Jew. The ceremony was performed in the Church of Santa Maria sopra la Minerva, near the Capitol. They were clad in[Pg 170] white; then exorcised at their entering the church with abundance of ceremonies, and, when led into the choir, were baptized by a Bishop, in pontificalibus. The Turk lived afterward in Rome, sold hot waters and would bring us presents when he met us, kneeling and kissing the hems of our cloaks; but the Jew was believed to be a counterfeit. This church, situated on a spacious rising, was formerly consecrated to Minerva. It was well built and richly adorned, and the body of St. Catherine di Sienna lies buried here. The paintings of the chapel are by Marcello Venuti; the Madonna over the altar is by Giovanni di Fiesole, called the Angelic Painter, who was of the Order of these Monks. There are many charities dealt publicly here, especially at the procession on the Annunciation, where I saw his Holiness, with all the Cardinals, Prelates, etc., in pontificalibus; dowries being given to 300 poor girls all clad in white. The Pope had his tiara on his head, and was carried on men's shoulders in an open armchair, blessing the people as he passed. The statue of Christ, at the Columna, is esteemed one of the masterpieces of M. Angelo: innumerable are the paintings by the best artists, and the organ is accounted one of the sweetest in Rome. Cardinal Bembo is interred here. We returned by St. Mark's, a stately church, with an excellent pavement, and a fine piece by Perugino, of the Two Martyrs. Adjoining to this is a noble palace built by the famous Bramante.
25th February, 1645. I was invited by a Dominican Friar, who we usually heard preach to a number of Jews, to be the godfather of a converted Turk and Jew. The ceremony took place in the Church of Santa Maria sopra la Minerva, near the Capitol. They were dressed in[Pg 170] white and were received at the entrance to the church with a lot of ceremonies; when led into the choir, they were baptized by a Bishop, in pontificalibus. The Turk later lived in Rome, sold hot baths, and would bring us gifts when he saw us, kneeling and kissing the hems of our cloaks; but the Jew was thought to be fake. This church, located on a spacious rise, was once dedicated to Minerva. It was well-constructed and richly decorated, and the body of St. Catherine of Siena is buried here. The paintings in the chapel are by Marcello Venuti; the Madonna above the altar is by Giovanni di Fiesole, known as the Angelic Painter, who belonged to this order of monks. Many charitable activities occur here, especially during the procession on the Annunciation when I saw His Holiness, along with all the Cardinals, Prelates, etc., in pontificalibus; dowries were given to 300 poor girls, all dressed in white. The Pope wore his tiara and was carried on men’s shoulders in an open chair, blessing the people as he passed. The statue of Christ at the Columna is considered one of Michelangelo's masterpieces; there are countless paintings by the greatest artists, and the organ is regarded as one of the sweetest in Rome. Cardinal Bembo is buried here. We returned by St. Mark's, a grand church with an excellent floor, and a fine piece by Perugino depicting the Two Martyrs. Next to this is a magnificent palace built by the famous Bramante.
26th February, 1645. Ascending the hill, we came to the Forum Trajanum, where his column stands yet entire, wrought with admirable basso-relievo recording the Dacian war, the figures at the upper part appearing of the same proportion with those below. It is ascended by 192 steps, enlightened with 44 apertures, or windows, artificially disposed; in height from the pedestal 140 feet.
26th February, 1645. Climbing the hill, we arrived at the Forum Trajanum, where his column still stands intact, crafted with amazing low-relief depicting the Dacian war, with the figures at the top in proportion to those below. It has 192 steps and is illuminated by 44 openings, or windows, arranged in a clever way; it measures 140 feet high from the pedestal.
It had once the ashes of Trajan and his statue, where now stands St. Peter's of gilt brass, erected by Pope Sextus V. The sculpture of this stupendous pillar is thought to be the work of Apollodorus; but what is very observable is, the descent to the plinth of the pedestal, showing how this ancient city lies now buried in her ruins; this monument being at first set up on a rising[Pg 171] ground. After dinner, we took the air in Cardinal Bentivoglio's delicious gardens, now but newly deceased. He had a fair palace built by several good masters on part of the ruins of Constantine's Baths; well adorned with columns and paintings, especially those of Guido Reni.
It used to hold the ashes of Trajan and his statue, where now stands St. Peter's made of gilt brass, erected by Pope Sextus V. The sculpture of this impressive pillar is believed to be the work of Apollodorus; but it is very noticeable how the descent to the base of the pedestal shows how this ancient city is now buried in its ruins, as this monument was originally placed on elevated ground. After dinner, we took a stroll in Cardinal Bentivoglio's beautiful gardens, which have recently fallen into disrepair. He had a lovely palace built by several skilled masters on part of the ruins of Constantine's Baths, well decorated with columns and paintings, especially those by Guido Reni.
27th February, 1645. In the morning Mr. Henshaw and myself walked to the Trophies of Marius, erected in honor of his victory over the Cimbrians, but these now taken out of their niches are placed on the balusters of the Capitol, so that their ancient station is now a ruin. Keeping on our way, we came to St. Croce of Jerusalem, built by Constantine over the demolition of the Temple of Venus and Cupid, which he threw down; and it was here, they report, he deposited the wood of the true Cross, found by his mother, Helena; in honor whereof this church was built, and in memory of his victory over Maxentius when that holy sign appeared to him. The edifice without is Gothic, but very glorious within, especially the roof, and one tribuna (gallery) well painted. Here is a chapel dedicated to St. Helena, the floor whereof is of earth brought from Jerusalem; the walls are of fair mosaic, in which they suffer no women to enter, save once a year. Under the high altar of the Church is buried St. Anastasius, in Lydian marble, and Benedict VII.; and they show a number of relics, exposed at our request; with a phial of our blessed Savior's blood; two thorns of his crown; three chips of the real cross; one of the nails, wanting a point; St. Thomas's doubting finger; and a fragment of the title (put on the cross), being part of a thin board; some of Judas's pieces of silver; and many more, if one had faith to believe it. To this venerable church joins a Monastery, the gardens taking up the space of an ancient amphitheatre.
27th February, 1645. In the morning, Mr. Henshaw and I walked to the Trophies of Marius, which were put up to celebrate his victory over the Cimbrians, but now these have been taken out of their niches and placed on the balusters of the Capitol, leaving their original spot in ruins. Continuing on our way, we reached St. Croce of Jerusalem, built by Constantine where the Temple of Venus and Cupid once stood; he had it torn down. It’s said he placed the wood of the true Cross, found by his mother, Helena, here; this church was built in its honor and in memory of his victory over Maxentius when that holy sign appeared to him. The exterior of the building is Gothic, but the inside is magnificent, especially the roof and one gallery that’s beautifully painted. There’s a chapel dedicated to St. Helena, with a floor made of earth brought from Jerusalem; the walls are adorned with beautiful mosaics, and women are only allowed to enter it once a year. Beneath the high altar of the Church are buried St. Anastasius, made of Lydian marble, and Benedict VII.; they showed us several relics upon our request, including a vial of our blessed Savior's blood, two thorns from his crown, three pieces of the true cross, one of the nails minus a tip, St. Thomas's doubting finger, and a fragment of the title that was placed on the cross, made from a thin board; some pieces of silver from Judas, and many more, if one had enough faith to believe it. Attached to this venerable church is a Monastery, with gardens occupying the space of an ancient amphitheater.
Hence, we passed beyond the walls out at the Port of St. Laurence, to that Saint's church, and where his ashes are enshrined. This was also built by the same great Constantine, famous for the Coronation of Pietro Altissiodorensis, Emperor of Constantinople, by Honorius II. It is said the corpse of St. Stephen, the proto martyr, was deposited here by that of St. Sebastian, which it had no sooner touched, but Sebastian gave it place of its own accord. The Church has no less than seven privileged altars, and excellent pictures. About the walls[Pg 172] are painted this martyr's sufferings; and, when they built them, the bones of divers saints were translated to other churches. The front is Gothic. In our return, we saw a small ruin of an aqueduct built by Quintus Marcius, the prætor; and so passed through that incomparable straight street leading to Santa Maria Maggiore, to our lodging, sufficiently tired.
So, we crossed the walls out at the Port of St. Laurence, to the church of that saint, where his ashes are kept. This was also built by the great Constantine, known for the coronation of Pietro Altissiodorensis, Emperor of Constantinople, by Honorius II. It's said that the body of St. Stephen, the first martyr, was laid to rest here beside that of St. Sebastian, and as soon as it touched Sebastian's, it moved aside on its own. The Church has at least seven special altars and beautiful paintings. Around the walls[Pg 172] are depictions of this martyr's sufferings, and when they were constructed, the bones of various saints were moved to other churches. The facade is Gothic. On our way back, we saw a small ruin of an aqueduct built by Quintus Marcius, the praetor, and then we walked along that amazing straight street leading to Santa Maria Maggiore, back to our lodging, quite tired.
We were taken up next morning in seeing the impertinences of the Carnival, when all the world are as mad at Rome as at other places; but the most remarkable were the three races of the Barbary horses, that run in the Strada del Corso without riders, only having spurs so placed on their backs, and hanging down by their sides, as by their motion to stimulate them: then of mares, then of asses, of buffalos, naked men, old and young, and boys, and abundance of idle ridiculous pastime. One thing is remarkable, their acting comedies on a stage placed on a cart, or plaustrum, where the scene, or tiring place, is made of boughs in a rural manner, which they drive from street to street with a yoke or two of oxen, after the ancient guise. The streets swarm with prostitutes, buffoons, and all manner of rabble.
We were caught up the next morning in witnessing the chaos of the Carnival, when everyone goes wild in Rome just like in other places. But the standout events were the three races of the Barbary horses that ran in the Strada del Corso without riders, just having spurs placed on their backs that dangled by their sides to motivate them. Then came the races of mares, donkeys, buffaloes, naked men, old and young, and boys, along with a ton of silly and pointless entertainment. One notable thing is their performances of comedies on a stage set up on a cart, or plaustrum, where the backdrop or dressing area is made of branches in a rustic style, which they move from street to street with one or two yokes of oxen, following the ancient tradition. The streets are packed with prostitutes, clowns, and all sorts of riffraff.
1st March, 1645. At the Greek Church, we saw the Eastern ceremonies performed by a Bishop, etc., in that tongue. Here the unfortunate Duke and Duchess of Bouillon received their ashes, it being the first day of Lent. There was now as much trudging up and down of devotees, as the day before of licentious people; all saints alike to appearance.
1st March, 1645. At the Greek Church, we witnessed the Eastern ceremonies conducted by a Bishop, and so on, in that language. Here, the unfortunate Duke and Duchess of Bouillon received their ashes, as it was the first day of Lent. There was just as much back and forth of worshippers now, as there had been the day before with the rowdy crowd; all saints looked the same on the surface.
The gardens of Justinian, which we next visited, are very full of statues and antiquities, especially urns; among which is that of Minutius Felix; a terminus that formerly stood in the Appian way, and a huge colossé of the Emperor Justinian. There is a delicate aviary on the hill; the whole gardens furnished with rare collections, fresh, shady, and adorned with noble fountains. Continuing our walk a mile farther, we came to Pons Milvius, now Mela, where Constantine overthrew Maxentius, and saw the miraculous sign of the cross, In hoc signo vinces. It was a sweet morning, and the bushes were full of nightingales. Hence, to Aqua Claudia again, an aqueduct finished by that Emperor at the expense of eight millions. In the afternoon, to Farnese's gardens, near the Campo[Pg 173] Vaccino; and upon the Palatine Mount to survey the ruins of Juno's Temple, in the Piscina, a piazza so-called near the famous bridge built by Antoninus Pius, and re-edified by Pope Sextus IV.
The gardens of Justinian that we visited next are filled with statues and antiques, especially urns. Among them is the urn of Minutius Felix, a boundary marker that used to stand on the Appian Way, and a giant statue of Emperor Justinian. There's a lovely aviary on the hill, and the entire garden is filled with rare collections, fresh greenery, and beautiful fountains. After walking another mile, we reached Pons Milvius, now called Mela, where Constantine defeated Maxentius and saw the miraculous sign of the cross, In hoc signo vinces. It was a lovely morning, and the bushes were alive with nightingales. From there, we headed back to Aqua Claudia, an aqueduct completed by that Emperor at a cost of eight million. In the afternoon, we went to Farnese's gardens near Campo[Pg 173] Vaccino, and then to Palatine Hill to explore the ruins of Juno's Temple, located in the Piscina, a square named after the famous bridge built by Antoninus Pius and later rebuilt by Pope Sextus IV.
The rest of this week, we went to the Vatican, to hear the sermons, at St. Peter's, of the most famous preachers, who discourse on the same subjects and text yearly, full of Italian eloquence and action. On our Lady day, 25th March, we saw the Pope and Cardinals ride in pomp to the Minerva, the great guns of the Castle of St. Angelo being fired, when he gives portions to 500 zitelle (young women), who kiss his feet in procession, some destined to marry, some to be nuns;—the scholars of the college celebrating the blessed Virgin with their compositions. The next day, his Holiness was busied in blessing golden roses, to be sent to several great Princes; the Procurator of the Carmelites preaching on our Savior's feeding the multitude with five loaves, the ceremony ends. The sacrament being this day exposed, and the relics of the Holy Cross, the concourse about the streets is extraordinary. On Palm-Sunday, there was a great procession, after a papal mass.
The rest of this week, we went to the Vatican to hear sermons at St. Peter's from the most famous preachers, who discuss the same topics and texts every year, full of Italian eloquence and flair. On our Lady's Day, March 25th, we saw the Pope and Cardinals ride in grandeur to the Minerva, with the great cannons of the Castle of St. Angelo firing when he gives portions to 500 zitelle (young women), who kiss his feet in procession, some set to marry and others to be nuns; the students of the college celebrating the Virgin Mary with their compositions. The next day, his Holiness was busy blessing golden roses to send to several great Princes, while the Procurator of the Carmelites preached about our Savior feeding the multitude with five loaves, closing the ceremony. The sacrament was displayed that day along with the relics of the Holy Cross, drawing an extraordinary crowd on the streets. On Palm Sunday, there was a grand procession after a papal mass.
11th April, 1645. St. Veronica's handkerchief (with the impression of our Savior's face) was exposed, and the next day the spear, with a world of ceremony. On Holy Thursday, the Pope said mass, and afterward carried the Host in procession about the chapel, with an infinity of tapers. This finished, his Holiness was carried in his open chair on men's shoulders to the place where, reading the Bull In Cœnâ Domini, he both curses and blesses all in a breath; then the guns are again fired. Hence, he went to the Ducal hall of the Vatican, where he washed the feet of twelve poor men, with almost the same ceremony as it is done at Whitehall; they have clothes, a dinner, and alms, which he gives with his own hands, and serves at their table; they have also gold and silver medals, but their garments are of white woolen long robes, as we paint the Apostles. The same ceremonies are done by the Conservators and other officers of state at St. John di Lateran; and now the table on which they say our blessed Lord celebrated his last supper is set out, and the heads of the Apostles. In every famous church they are busy in dressing up their pageantries to[Pg 174] represent the Holy Sepulchre, of which we went to visit divers.
11th April, 1645. St. Veronica's handkerchief (with the image of our Savior's face) was displayed, followed by the spear the next day, with a lot of ceremony. On Holy Thursday, the Pope held mass and then carried the Host in a procession around the chapel, surrounded by countless candles. Once that was done, he was carried in his open chair by men to the spot where, while reading the Bull In Cœnâ Domini, he both curses and blesses everyone simultaneously; after which, the guns were fired again. He then proceeded to the Ducal hall of the Vatican, where he washed the feet of twelve poor men, with nearly the same ceremony as they do at Whitehall; they receive clothes, a meal, and alms, which he hands out personally and serves at their table; they also receive gold and silver medals, but their outfits are long white woolen robes, resembling how we depict the Apostles. The same ceremonies are performed by the Conservators and other state officials at St. John di Lateran; and now the table where our blessed Lord had his last supper is set up, along with the figures of the Apostles. In every prominent church, preparations are underway to showcase their displays to represent the Holy Sepulchre, which we visited on several occasions.
On Good Friday, we went again to St. Peter's, where the handkerchief, lance, and cross were all exposed, and worshiped together. All the confession seats were filled with devout people, and at night was a procession of several who most lamentably whipped themselves till the blood stained their clothes, for some had shirts, others upon the bare back, having visors and masks on their faces; at every three or four steps dashing the knotted and raveled whip cord over their shoulders, as hard as they could lay it on; while some of the religious orders and fraternities sung in a dismal tone, the lights and crosses going before, making all together a horrible and indeed heathenish pomp.
On Good Friday, we went back to St. Peter's, where the handkerchief, lance, and cross were all displayed, and we worshiped together. All the confession booths were full of devoted people, and at night there was a procession of several individuals who sadly whipped themselves until the blood soaked their clothes. Some wore shirts, while others had no shirts on their bare backs, wearing visors and masks on their faces; every three or four steps, they lashed the knotted and frayed whip cord over their shoulders as hard as they could. Meanwhile, some of the religious orders and brotherhoods sang in a mournful tone, with lights and crosses leading the way, creating a terrifying and truly pagan spectacle.
The next day, there was much ceremony at St. John di Laterano, so as the whole week was spent in running from church to church, all the town in busy devotion, great silence, and unimaginable superstition.
The next day, there was a lot of ceremony at St. John di Laterano, so the whole week was spent rushing from church to church, with the entire town in fervent devotion, deep silence, and extreme superstition.
Easter day, I was awakened by the guns from St. Angelo: we went to St. Peter's, where the Pope himself celebrated mass, showed the relics before-named, and gave a public Benediction.
Easter Sunday, I was woken up by the cannons from St. Angelo: we went to St. Peter's, where the Pope himself held the mass, displayed the mentioned relics, and gave a public blessing.
Monday, we went to hear music in the Chiesa Nova; and, though there were abundance of ceremonies at the other great churches, and great exposure of relics, yet being wearied with sights of this nature, and the season of the year, summer, at Rome being very dangerous, by reason of the heat minding us of returning northward, we spent the rest of our time in visiting such places as we had not yet sufficiently seen. Only I do not forget the Pope's benediction of the Gonfalone, or Standard, and giving the hallowed palms; and, on May Day, the great procession of the University and the muleteers at St. Anthony's, and their setting up a foolish May pole in the Capitol, very ridiculous. We therefore now took coach a little out of town, to visit the famous Roma Soterránea, being much like what we had seen at St. Sebastians. Here, in a cornfield, guided by two torches, we crept on our bellies into a little hole, about twenty paces, which delivered us into a large entry that led us into several streets, or alleys, a good depth in the bowels of the earth, a strange and fearful passage for divers miles, as Bosio[Pg 175] has measured and described them in his book. We ever and anon came into pretty square rooms, that seemed to be chapels with altars, and some adorned with very ordinary ancient painting. Many skeletons and bodies are placed on the sides one above the other in degrees like shelves, whereof some are shut up with a coarse flat stone, having engraven on them Pro Christo, or a cross and palms, which are supposed to have been martyrs. Here, in all likelihood, were the meetings of the Primitive Christians during the persecutions, as Pliny the Younger describes them. As I was prying about, I found a glass phial, filled (as was conjectured) with dried blood, and two lachrymatories. Many of the bodies, or rather bones (for there appeared nothing else) lay so entire, as if placed by the art of the chirurgeon, but being only touched fell all to dust. Thus, after wandering two or three miles in this subterranean meander, we returned almost blind when we came into the daylight, and even choked by the smoke of the torches. It is said that a French bishop and his retinue adventuring too far into these dens, their lights going out, were never heard of more.
On Monday, we went to listen to music at the Chiesa Nova. Even though there were plenty of ceremonies at the other big churches and a lot of relics on display, we were tired of that kind of thing. The summer heat in Rome can be harsh, reminding us to head north, so we spent the rest of our time visiting places we hadn’t explored enough yet. I won’t forget the Pope's blessing of the Gonfalone, or Standard, and the giving of the blessed palms, along with the big procession of the University and the muleteers at St. Anthony's on May Day, where they set up a silly May pole in the Capitol, which was pretty ridiculous. We then took a carriage a bit outside of town to visit the famous Roma Soterránea, similar to what we saw at St. Sebastians. In a cornfield, led by two torches, we crawled on our bellies into a small hole, about twenty paces, which led us into a large entrance that opened into several streets and alleys deep in the earth—an odd and frightening journey for several miles, as Bosio has measured and described in his book. We frequently entered nice square rooms that looked like chapels with altars, some decorated with quite ordinary ancient paintings. Many skeletons and bodies were stacked on the sides, one above the other like shelves, some covered with a rough flat stone engraved with “Pro Christo,” or a cross and palms, believed to be martyrs. This was likely where early Christians gathered during the persecutions, as Pliny the Younger describes. While I was exploring, I found a glass vial thought to be filled with dried blood, and two lachrymatories. Many of the bodies—or rather bones—were intact, as if arranged by a surgeon, but as soon as they were touched, they crumbled to dust. After wandering two or three miles through this underground maze, we came back out almost blind in the daylight, and even choked by the smoke from the torches. It's said that a French bishop and his entourage ventured too far into these caverns, their lights went out, and they were never heard from again.
We were entertained at night with an English play at the Jesuits', where we before had dined; and the next day at Prince Galicano's, who himself composed the music to a magnificent opera, where were present Cardinal Pamphilio, the Pope's nephew, the Governors of Rome, the cardinals, the ambassadors, ladies, and a number of nobility and strangers. There had been in the morning a joust and tournament of several young gentlemen on a formal defy, to which we had been invited; the prizes being distributed by the ladies, after the knight-errantry way. The lancers and swordsmen running at tilt against the barriers, with a great deal of clatter, but without any bloodshed, giving much diversion to the spectators, and was new to us travelers.
We enjoyed an English play at the Jesuits' that evening after having dined there earlier. The next day, we attended a magnificent opera at Prince Galicano's, where he composed the music himself. Present were Cardinal Pamphilio, the Pope's nephew, the governors of Rome, cardinals, ambassadors, ladies, and a crowd of nobility and visitors. That morning, there had been a joust and tournament featuring several young gentlemen in a formal challenge that we were invited to; the ladies distributed the prizes in a knightly fashion. The lancers and swordsmen charged at the barriers with a lot of noise but without any injuries, providing great entertainment for the spectators, which was new for us travelers.
The next day Mr. Henshaw and I spent the morning in attending the entrance and cavalcade of Cardinal Medici, the ambassador from the Grand Duke of Florence, by the Via Flaminia. After dinner, we went again to the Villa Borghese, about a mile without the city; the garden is rather a park, or a Paradise, contrived and planted with walks and shades of myrtles, cypress, and other trees,[Pg 176] and groves, with abundance of fountains, statues, and bass-relievos, and several pretty murmuring rivulets. Here they had hung large nets to catch woodcocks. There was also a vivary, where, among other exotic fowls, was an ostrich; besides a most capacious aviary; and, in another inclosed part, a herd of deer. Before the palace (which might become the court of a great prince) stands a noble fountain, of white marble, enriched with statues. The outer walls of the house are encrusted with excellent antique bass-relievos, of the same marble, incornished with festoons and niches set with statues from the foundation to the roof. A stately portico joins the palace, full of statues and columns of marble, urns, and other curiosities of sculpture. In the first hall were the Twelve Cæsars, of antique marble, and the whole apartments furnished with pictures of the most celebrated masters, and two rare tables of porphyry, of great value. But of this already: for I often visited this delicious place.
The next day, Mr. Henshaw and I spent the morning watching the arrival and procession of Cardinal Medici, the ambassador from the Grand Duke of Florence, along the Via Flaminia. After lunch, we went back to the Villa Borghese, about a mile outside the city; the garden is more like a park or paradise, designed with paths and shaded areas full of myrtles, cypress, and other trees, and groves with plenty of fountains, statues, and reliefs, plus several charming, bubbling streams. Here they had large nets set up to catch woodcocks. There was also a vivarium with various exotic birds, including an ostrich, plus an expansive aviary, and in another enclosed area, a herd of deer. In front of the palace, which could easily serve as the court of a great prince, stands an impressive fountain made of white marble, adorned with statues. The outer walls of the house are covered in excellent antique reliefs of the same marble, decorated with garlands and niches filled with statues from the foundation to the roof. A grand portico connects to the palace, filled with statues and marble columns, urns, and other sculptural curiosities. In the first hall were the Twelve Caesars made of ancient marble, and the entire space was furnished with paintings by the most renowned masters, along with two rare and valuable porphyry tables. But that’s enough about this, as I often visited this delightful place.
This night were glorious fire-works at the palace of Cardinal Medici before the gate, and lights of several colors all about the windows through the city, which they contrive by setting the candles in little paper lanterns dyed with various colors, placing hundreds of them from story to story; which renders a gallant show.
This night, there were stunning fireworks at Cardinal Medici's palace in front of the gate, and colorful lights around the windows throughout the city. They achieve this by putting candles in small paper lanterns dyed in different colors, hanging hundreds of them from floor to floor, creating a beautiful display.
4th May, 1645. Having seen the entry of the ambassador of Lucca, I went to the Vatican, where, by favor of our Cardinal Protector, Fran. Barberini, I was admitted into the Consistory, heard the ambassador make his oration in Latin to the Pope, sitting on an elevated state, or throne, and changing two pontifical mitres; after which, I was presented to kiss his toe, that is, his embroidered slipper, two Cardinals holding up his vest and surplice; and then, being sufficiently blessed with his thumb and two fingers for that day I returned home to dinner.
4th May, 1645. After witnessing the arrival of the ambassador from Lucca, I went to the Vatican, where, thanks to our Cardinal Protector, Fran. Barberini, I was allowed into the Consistory. I listened as the ambassador delivered his speech in Latin to the Pope, who was seated on a raised throne and wore two different papal mitres. After that, I was presented to kiss his toe—specifically, his embroidered slipper—with two Cardinals holding up his vestments. Once I received his blessing with his thumb and two fingers for the day, I returned home for dinner.
We went again to see the medals of Signor Gotefredi, which are absolutely the best collection in Rome.
We went again to see the medals of Mr. Gotefredi, which are definitely the best collection in Rome.
Passing the Ludovisia Villa, where the petrified human figure lies, found on the snowy Alps; I measured the hydra, and found it not a foot long; the three necks and fifteen heads seem to be but patched up with several pieces of serpents' skins.
Passing the Ludovisia Villa, where the petrified human figure is located, discovered in the snowy Alps; I measured the hydra and found it to be less than a foot long; the three necks and fifteen heads appear to be just stitched together from different pieces of snake skins.
5th May, 1645. We took coach, and went fifteen miles out of the city to Frascati, formerly Tusculum, a villa[Pg 177] of Cardinal Aldobrandini, built for a country house; but surpassing, in my opinion, the most delicious places I ever beheld for its situation, elegance, plentiful water, groves, ascents, and prospects. Just behind the palace (which is of excellent architecture) in the centre of the inclosure, rises a high hill, or mountain, all over clad with tall wood, and so formed by nature, as if it had been cut out by art, from the summit whereof falls a cascade, seeming rather a great river than a stream precipitating into a large theatre of water, representing an exact and perfect rainbow, when the sun shines out. Under this, is made an artificial grot, wherein are curious rocks, hydraulic organs, and all sorts of singing birds, moving and chirping by force of the water, with several other pageants and surprising inventions. In the centre of one of these rooms, rises a copper ball that continually dances about three feet above the pavement, by virtue of a wind conveyed secretly to a hole beneath it; with many other devices to wet the unwary spectators, so that one can hardly step without wetting to the skin. In one of these theaters of water, is an Atlas spouting up the stream to a very great height; and another monster makes a terrible roaring with a horn; but, above all, the representation of a storm is most natural, with such fury of rain, wind, and thunder, as one would imagine oneself in some extreme tempest. The garden has excellent walks and shady groves, abundance of rare fruit, oranges, lemons, etc., and the goodly prospect of Rome, above all description, so as I do not wonder that Cicero and others have celebrated this place with such encomiums. The Palace is indeed built more like a cabinet than anything composed of stone and mortar; it has in the middle a hall furnished with excellent marbles and rare pictures, especially those of Gioseppino d'Arpino; the movables are princely and rich. This was the last piece of architecture finished by Giacomo della Porta, who built it for Pietro Cardinal Aldobrandini, in the time of Clement VIII.29
5th May, 1645. We took a coach and traveled fifteen miles outside the city to Frascati, previously known as Tusculum, a villa[Pg 177] of Cardinal Aldobrandini, designed as a country house. In my opinion, it surpasses the prettiest places I've ever seen due to its location, elegance, abundant water, groves, hills, and views. Just behind the palace, which boasts excellent architecture, a high hill or mountain rises in the center of the grounds, covered in tall trees, appearing as if it were sculpted by human hands. From its summit, a cascade tumbles down, resembling a large river more than a stream, plunging into a big basin of water that creates a perfect rainbow whenever the sun shines. Below this is an artificial grotto filled with curious rocks, hydraulic organs, and all kinds of singing birds, moving and chirping thanks to the water, along with various other attractions and surprising inventions. In the center of one of these rooms is a copper ball that seems to float about three feet above the floor, powered by a wind channelled secretly from beneath; there are many other devices that splash unwary spectators, so it's difficult to walk without getting soaked. In one of these water theatres, there's an Atlas figure shooting water high into the air, and another creature that makes a terrifying roar with a horn. But above all, the simulation of a storm is the most realistic, complete with a fierce downpour of rain, wind, and thunder, making you feel as if you’re caught in a severe tempest. The garden features excellent paths and shady groves, an abundance of rare fruit like oranges and lemons, and an incredible view of Rome, beyond description, which is why I can see why Cicero and others have praised this place so highly. The Palace is indeed constructed more like a cabinet than a typical stone and mortar building; it has a central hall adorned with exquisite marbles and rare paintings, particularly those by Gioseppino d'Arpino, and the furnishings are princely and lavish. This was the final piece of architecture completed by Giacomo della Porta, built for Pietro Cardinal Aldobrandini during the reign of Clement VIII.29
We went hence to another house and garden not far distant, on the side of a hill called Mondragone, finished by Cardinal Scipio Borghese, an ample and kingly edifice.[Pg 178] It has a very long gallery, and at the end a theatre for pastimes, spacious courts, rare grots, vineyards, olive-grounds, groves and solitudes. The air is so fresh and sweet, as few parts of Italy exceed it; nor is it inferior to any palace in the city itself for statues, pictures, and furniture; but, it growing late, we could not take such particular notice of these things as they deserved.
We went to another house and garden nearby, on the side of a hill called Mondragone, completed by Cardinal Scipio Borghese, a grand and impressive building.[Pg 178] It features a long gallery, and at the end, there’s a theater for entertainment, spacious courtyards, unique grottoes, vineyards, olive groves, and secluded areas. The air is so fresh and pleasant that few places in Italy can compare; it is also on par with any palace in the city itself in terms of statues, paintings, and furnishings. However, since it was getting late, we couldn't pay as much attention to these details as they deserved.
6th May, 1645. We rested ourselves; and next day, in a coach, took our last farewell of visiting the circumjacent places, going to Tivoli, or the old Tiburtum. At about six miles from Rome, we pass the Teverone, a bridge built by Mammea, the mother of Severus, and so by divers ancient sepulchres, among others that of Valerius Volusi; and near it past the stinking sulphurous river over the Ponte Lucano, where we found a heap, or turret, full of inscriptions, now called the Tomb of Plautius. Arrived at Tivoli, we went first to see the palace d'Este, erected on a plain, but where was formerly an hill. The palace is very ample and stately. In the garden, on the right hand, are sixteen vast conchas of marble, jetting out waters; in the midst of these stands a Janus quadrifrons, that cast forth four girandolas, called from the resemblance (to a particular exhibition in fireworks so named) the Fountana di Spéccho (looking-glass). Near this is a place for tilting. Before the ascent of the palace is the famous fountain of Leda, and not far from that, four sweet and delicious gardens. Descending thence are two pyramids of water, and in a grove of trees near it the fountains of Tethys, Esculapius, Arethusa, Pandora, Pomona, and Flora; then the prancing Pegasus, Bacchus, the Grot of Venus, the two Colosses of Melicerta and Sibylla Tiburtina, all of exquisite marble, copper, and other suitable adornments. The Cupids pouring out water are especially most rare, and the urns on which are placed the ten nymphs. The grots are richly paved with pietra-commessa, shells, coral, etc.
6th May, 1645. We took some time to rest and then the next day, in a coach, said our final goodbyes while visiting the surrounding areas, heading to Tivoli, known as the old Tiburtum. About six miles from Rome, we crossed the Teverone, a bridge built by Mammea, the mother of Severus, along with various ancient tombs, including that of Valerius Volusi; nearby was the stinking sulphurous river at the Ponte Lucano, where we found a mound, or tower, filled with inscriptions, now referred to as the Tomb of Plautius. Upon arriving at Tivoli, we first visited the d'Este palace, built on a flat area where there once was a hill. The palace is very large and impressive. In the garden to the right, there are sixteen huge marble basins, spouting water; in the center of these stands a Janus quadrifrons, which releases four girandolas, named after a type of fireworks called the Fountana di Spéccho (looking-glass). Close by is a place for jousting. In front of the palace is the famous fountain of Leda, and not far from there are four lovely and delightful gardens. Descending from there are two pyramids of water, and in a grove of trees nearby are the fountains of Tethys, Esculapius, Arethusa, Pandora, Pomona, and Flora; then the prancing Pegasus, Bacchus, the Grotto of Venus, and the two Colosses of Melicerta and Sibylla Tiburtina, all made of exquisite marble, copper, and other suitable decorations. The Cupids pouring out water are particularly rare, as are the urns bearing the ten nymphs. The grottos are richly adorned with pietra-commessa, shells, coral, etc.
Toward Roma Triumphans, leads a long and spacious walk, full of fountains, under which is historized the whole Ovidian Metamorphosis, in rarely sculptured mezzo relievo. At the end of this, next the wall, is the city of Rome as it was in its beauty, of small models, representing that city, with its amphitheatres; naumachi,[Pg 179] thermæ, temples, arches, aqueducts, streets, and other magnificences, with a little stream running through it for the Tiber, gushing out of an urn next to the statue of the river. In another garden, is a noble aviary, the birds artificial, and singing till an owl appears, on which they suddenly change their notes. Near this is the fountain of dragons, casting out large streams of water with great noise. In another grotto, called Grotto di Natura, is an hydraulic organ; and below this are divers stews and fish ponds, in one of which is the statue of Neptune in his chariot on a seahorse, in another a Triton; and lastly, a garden of simples. There are besides in the palace many rare statues and pictures, bedsteads richly inlaid, and sundry other precious movables: the whole is said to have cost the best part of a million.
Toward Roma Triumphans, there’s a long and spacious walkway filled with fountains, featuring the entire Ovidian Metamorphosis in beautifully sculpted relief. At the end of this path, next to the wall, is a model of ancient Rome in all its glory, showcasing small replicas of the city, complete with its amphitheaters, naumachiae, baths, temples, arches, aqueducts, streets, and other magnificent structures, with a small stream representing the Tiber flowing from an urn next to the statue of the river. In another garden, there’s a grand aviary with artificial birds that sing until an owl appears, causing them to abruptly change their tune. Close by is the fountain of dragons, which shoots out large streams of water with a loud splash. In another grotto, called Grotto di Natura, there’s a hydraulic organ; beneath this are various fish ponds, one featuring a statue of Neptune in his chariot on a seahorse, another with a Triton, and finally, a garden of herbs. Additionally, the palace houses many rare statues and paintings, lavishly inlaid beds, and several other valuable items: the entire collection is said to have cost almost a million.
Having gratified our curiosity with these artificial miracles, and dined, we went to see the so famous natural precipice and cascade of the river Anio, rushing down from the mountains of Tivoli with that fury that, what with the mist it perpetually casts up by the breaking of the water against the rocks, and what with the sun shining on it and forming a natural Iris, and the prodigious depth of the gulf below, it is enough to astonish one that looks on it. Upon the summit of this rock stands the ruins and some pillars and cornices of the Temple of Sibylla Tyburtina, or Albunea, a round fabric, still discovering some of its pristine beauty. Here was a great deal of gunpowder drying in the sun, and a little beneath, mills belonging to the Pope.
After satisfying our curiosity with these man-made wonders and having dinner, we went to see the famous natural cliff and waterfall of the river Anio, rushing down from the Tivoli mountains with such force that, thanks to the mist it constantly creates from the water crashing against the rocks, combined with the sunlight creating a natural rainbow, and the incredible depth of the chasm below, it’s enough to leave anyone in awe. At the top of this rock are the ruins, along with some pillars and cornices of the Temple of Sibylla Tyburtina, or Albunea, a circular structure that still reveals some of its original beauty. There was a great deal of gunpowder drying in the sun here, and just a bit below, there were mills owned by the Pope.
And now we returned to Rome. By the way, we were showed, at some distance, the city Præneste, and the Hadrian villa, now only a heap of ruins; and so came late to our lodging.
And now we went back to Rome. By the way, from a distance, we saw the city of Præneste and Hadrian's villa, which is now just a pile of ruins; and so we arrived late at our accommodation.
We now determined to desist from visiting any more curiosities, except what should happen to come in our way, when my companion, Mr. Henshaw, or myself should go to take the air: only I may not omit that one afternoon, diverting ourselves in the Piazza Navona, a mountebank there to allure curious strangers, taking off a ring from his finger, which seemed set with a dull, dark stone a little swelling out, like what we call (though untruly) a toadstone, and wetting his finger a little in his mouth, and then touching it, it emitted a luculent flame as bright[Pg 180] and large as a small wax candle; then, blowing it out, repeated this several times. I have much regretted that I did not purchase the receipt of him for making that composition at what price soever; for though there is a process in Jo. Baptista Porta and others how to do it, yet on several trials they none of them have succeeded.
We decided to stop visiting any more attractions, except for whatever we might come across when my friend, Mr. Henshaw, or I went out for some fresh air. However, I can't forget one afternoon when we were having fun in the Piazza Navona. There was a street performer trying to attract curious onlookers, who took off a ring from his finger that seemed to have a dull, dark stone slightly raised, like what we mistakenly call a toadstone. He wet his finger a bit with his mouth and then touched the stone, which produced a bright flame as large and bright as a small wax candle. After blowing it out, he repeated this several times. I really regret not buying the recipe from him for making that mixture, no matter the cost. Although there are methods described by Jo. Baptista Porta and others, none have been successful in my attempts.
Among other observations I made in Rome are these: as to coins and medals, ten asses make the Roman denarius, five the quinarius, ten denarii an aureus; which accompt runs almost exactly with what is now in use of quatrini, baiocs, julios, and scudi, each exceeding the other in the proportion of ten. The sestertius was a small silver coin, marked H. S. or rather LLs, valued two pounds and a half of silver, viz, 250 denarii, about twenty-five golden ducati. The stamp of the Roman denarius varied, having sometimes a Janus bifrons, the head of Roma armed, or with a chariot and two horses, which were called bigi; if with four, quadrigi: if with a Victoria, so named. The mark of the denarius was distinguished > | < thus, or X; the quinarius of half value, had, on one side, the head of Rome and V; the reverse, Castor and Pollux on horseback, inscribed Roma, etc.
Among other things I noticed in Rome are these: for coins and medals, ten asses equal one Roman denarius, five make a quinarius, and ten denarii equal one aureus; this system is almost exactly like what is currently used with quatrini, baiocs, julios, and scudi, each one exceeding the other in a ratio of ten. The sestertius was a small silver coin, marked H.S. or LLs, valued at two and a half pounds of silver, which is 250 denarii, approximately twenty-five golden ducati. The design of the Roman denarius varied, sometimes featuring Janus bifrons, the head of Roma in armor, or a chariot pulled by two horses, called bigi; if it had four horses, it was called quadrigi; and if it featured Victoria, it was named accordingly. The mark of the denarius was identified as > | < or X; the quinarius, worth half as much, had the head of Rome and V on one side, and on the other side, it depicted Castor and Pollux on horseback, with the inscription Roma, etc.
I observed that in the Greek church they made the sign of the cross from the right hand to the left; contrary to the Latins and the schismatic Greeks; gave the benediction with the first, second, and little finger stretched out, retaining the third bent down, expressing a distance of the third Person of the Holy Trinity from the first two.
I noticed that in the Greek church, they made the sign of the cross from the right hand to the left, unlike the Latins and the split-off Greeks. They blessed with the first, second, and little finger extended, while keeping the third finger bent down, symbolizing the separation of the third Person of the Holy Trinity from the first two.

LORD WILLIAM RUSSELL TAKING LEAVE OF HIS CHILDREN, 1683
LORD WILLIAM RUSSELL SAYING GOODBYE TO HIS KIDS, 1683
Photogravure after a painting by Bridges
Photogravure after a painting by Bridges
For sculptors and architects, we found Bernini and Algardi were in the greatest esteem; Fiamingo, as a statuary; who made the Andrea in St. Peter's, and is said to have died mad because it was placed in an ill light. Among the painters, Antonio de la Cornea, who has such an address of counterfeiting the hands of the ancient masters so well as to make his copies pass for originals; Pietro de Cortone, Monsieur Poussin, a Frenchman, and innumerable more. Fioravanti, for armor, plate, dead life, tapestry, etc. The chief masters of music, after Marc Antonio, the best treble, is Cavalier Lauretto, an eunuch; the next Cardinal Bichi's eunuch, Bianchi, tenor, and Nicholai, bass. The Jews in Rome[Pg 181] wore red hats, till the Cardinal of Lyons, being short-sighted, lately saluted one of them, thinking him to be a Cardinal as he passed by his coach; on which an order was made, that they should use only the yellow color. There was now at Rome one Mrs. Ward, an English devotée, who much solicited for an order of Jesuitesses.
For sculptors and architects, we found that Bernini and Algardi were highly regarded; Fiamingo, known for his statues, created the statue of Andrea in St. Peter's and is said to have gone mad because it was poorly lit. Among painters, Antonio de la Cornea had such a skill for mimicking the styles of the ancient masters that his copies were often mistaken for originals; Pietro de Cortone, Monsieur Poussin, a Frenchman, and countless others. Fioravanti was known for armor, plate, lifelike figures, tapestries, and more. The top music masters, after Marc Antonio, included Cavalier Lauretto, a eunuch with the best treble, followed by Cardinal Bichi's eunuch, Bianchi, who was a tenor, and Nicholai, a bass. The Jews in Rome wore red hats until the Cardinal of Lyons, who was short-sighted, mistakenly greeted one of them, thinking he was a Cardinal as he passed his coach; after that, a rule was made that they should only wear yellow. At that time in Rome, there was a Mrs. Ward, an English devotee, who was actively seeking an order of Jesuitesses.
At executions I saw one, a gentleman, hanged in his cloak and hat for murder. They struck the malefactor with a club that first stunned him, and then cut his throat. At Naples they use a frame, like ours at Halifax.30
At executions, I witnessed a gentleman being hanged in his cloak and hat for murder. They struck the criminal with a club that first stunned him, and then they cut his throat. In Naples, they use a frame similar to ours in Halifax.30
It is reported that Rome has been once no less than fifty miles in compass, now not thirteen, containing in it 3,000 churches and chapels, monasteries, etc. It is divided into fourteen regions or wards; has seven mountains, and as many campi or valleys; in these are fair parks, or gardens, called villas, being only places of recess and pleasure, at some distance from the streets, yet within the walls.
It’s said that Rome once measured no less than fifty miles around, but now it’s not even thirteen, and it has 3,000 churches and chapels, monasteries, and so on within it. The city is divided into fourteen regions or wards, has seven hills, and as many valleys; within these are nice parks or gardens, called villas, which are simply places of relaxation and enjoyment, located a bit away from the streets but still within the city walls.
The bills of exchange I took up from my first entering Italy till I went from Rome, amounting to but 616 ducati di banco, though I purchased many books, pictures, and curiosities.
The bills of exchange I collected from the moment I arrived in Italy until I left Rome totaled only 616 ducati di banco, even though I bought many books, paintings, and curiosities.
18th May, 1645. I intended to have seen Loretto, but, being disappointed of moneys long expected, I was forced to return by the same way I came, desiring, if possible, to be at Venice by the Ascension, and therefore I diverted to take Leghorn in the way, as well to furnish me with credit by a merchant there, as to take order for transporting such collections as I had made at Rome. When on my way, turning about to behold this once and yet glorious city, from an eminence, I did not, without some regret, give it my last farewell.
18th May, 1645. I planned to see Loretto, but after being let down by some money I was expecting, I had to return the way I came, hoping to get to Venice by Ascension Day. So, I decided to stop by Leghorn both to get some credit from a merchant there and to arrange for the transport of the collections I had made in Rome. As I was on my way, I looked back at this once glorious city from a high point, and with some regret, I said my last goodbye.
Having taken leave of our friends at Rome, where I had sojourned now about seven months, autumn, winter, and spring, I took coach, in company with two courteous Italian gentlemen. In the afternoon, we arrived at a house, or rather castle, belonging to the Duke of Parma, called Caprarola, situate on the brow of a hill, that overlooks a little town, or rather a natural and stupendous rock; witness those vast caves serving now for cellarage, where we were entertained with most generous wine of sev[Pg 182]eral sorts, being just under the foundation. The palace was built by the famous architect, Vignola, at the cost of Cardinal Alex. Farnese, in form of an octagon, the court in the middle being exactly round, so as rather to resemble a fort, or castle; yet the chambers within are all of them square, which makes the walls exceedingly thick. One of these rooms is so artificially contrived, that from the two opposite angles may be heard the least whisper; they say any perfect square does it. Most of the paintings are by Zuccari. It has a stately entry, on which spouts an artificial fountain within the porch. The hall, chapel, and a great number of lodging chambers are remarkable; but most of all the pictures and witty inventions of Hannibal Caracci; the Dead Christ is incomparable. Behind are the gardens full of statues and noble fountains, especially that of the Shepherds. After dinner, we took horse, and lay that night at Monte Rossi, twenty miles from Rome.
After saying goodbye to our friends in Rome, where I'd stayed for about seven months—through autumn, winter, and spring—I traveled by coach with two polite Italian gentlemen. In the afternoon, we arrived at the Duke of Parma's house, or rather castle, called Caprarola, situated on the top of a hill that overlooks a small town, or more accurately, a large natural rock. You can see the vast caves below, which now serve as cellars, where we enjoyed an abundance of fine wine of various kinds. The palace was designed by the renowned architect, Vignola, funded by Cardinal Alex. Farnese, shaped like an octagon, with a perfectly round courtyard in the middle, giving it a resemblance to a fort or castle. However, the rooms inside are all square, which results in extremely thick walls. One of these rooms is designed in such a way that you can hear the slightest whisper from the two opposite corners; they say any perfect square does this. Most of the paintings are by Zuccari. There's an impressive entrance featuring an artificial fountain in the porch. The hall, chapel, and numerous guest rooms are all noteworthy, but especially the paintings and clever works of Hannibal Caracci; the painting of the Dead Christ is exceptional. Behind the palace are gardens filled with statues and magnificent fountains, notably that of the Shepherds. After dinner, we rode out and spent the night at Monte Rossi, twenty miles from Rome.
19th May, 1645. We dined at Viterbo, and lay at St. Laurenzo. Next day, at Radicofani, and slept at Turnera.
19th May, 1645. We had dinner in Viterbo and stayed at St. Lorenza. The next day, we were at Radicofani and spent the night at Turnera.
21st May, 1645. We dined at Sienna, where we could not pass admiring the great church built entirely both within and without with white and black marble in polished squares, by Macarino, showing so beautiful after a shower has fallen. The floor within is of various colored marbles, representing the story of both Testaments, admirably wrought. Here lies Pius II. The bibliotéca is painted by P. Perrugino and Raphael. The life of Æneas Sylvius is in FRESCO; in the middle are the Three Graces, in antique marble, very curious, and the front of this building, though Gothic, is yet very fine. Among other things, they show St. Catharine's disciplining cell, the door whereof is half cut out into chips by the pilgrims and devotees, being of deal wood.
21st May, 1645. We had lunch in Sienna, where we couldn't help but admire the grand church built entirely of polished white and black marble squares, both inside and out, by Macarino, which looks stunning after a rain shower. The floor inside features a variety of colored marbles depicting the stories from both Testaments, skillfully crafted. Here lies Pius II. The library is decorated by P. Perrugino and Raphael. The life of Æneas Sylvius is displayed in Mural; in the center are the Three Graces, made of ancient marble, which are quite interesting, and although the front of this building is Gothic, it is still very beautiful. Among other things, they showcase St. Catharine's cell for discipline, the door of which is half worn away by the prayers and touches of pilgrims and devotees, being made of deal wood.
Setting out hence for Pisa, we went again to see the Duomo in which the Emperor Henry VII. lies buried, poisoned by a monk in the Eucharist. The bending tower was built by Busqueto Delichio, a Grecian architect, and is a stupendous piece of art. In the gallery of curiosities is a fair mummy; the tail of a sea-horse; coral growing on a man's skull; a chariot automaton; two pieces of rock crystal, in one of which is a drop of water, in the other[Pg 183] three or four small worms; two embalmed children; divers petrifactions, etc. The garden of simples is well furnished, and has in it the deadly yew, or taxus, of the ancients; which Dr. Belluccio, the superintendent, affirms that his workmen cannot endure to clip for above the space of half an hour at a time, from the pain of the head which surprises them.
Setting out for Pisa, we went to see the Duomo where Emperor Henry VII lies buried, poisoned by a monk in the Eucharist. The leaning tower was built by Busqueto Delichio, a Greek architect, and is a stunning piece of art. In the gallery of curiosities is a fair mummy; the tail of a sea horse; coral growing on a man's skull; a chariot automaton; two pieces of rock crystal, one with a drop of water, the other[Pg 183] with three or four small worms; two embalmed children; various petrifications, etc. The garden of simples is well stocked and contains the deadly yew, or taxus, of the ancients; which Dr. Belluccio, the superintendent, claims his workers can’t stand to clip for more than half an hour at a time due to the headache it gives them.
We went hence from Leghorn, by coach, where I took up ninety crowns for the rest of my journey, with letters of credit for Venice, after I had sufficiently complained of my defeat of correspondence at Rome.
We left Leghorn by coach, where I picked up ninety crowns for the rest of my trip, along with letters of credit for Venice, after I had fully expressed my frustration about my lack of communication in Rome.
The next day, I came to Lucca, a small but pretty territory and state of itself. The city is neat and well fortified, with noble and pleasant walks of trees on the works, where the gentry and ladies used to take the air. It is situate on an ample plain by the river Serchio, yet the country about it is hilly. The Senate-house is magnificent. The church of St. Michael is a noble piece, as is also St. Fredian, more remarkable to us for the corpse of St. Richard, an English king,31 who died here on his pilgrimage toward Rome. This epitaph is on his tomb:
The next day, I arrived in Lucca, a small but charming territory and state on its own. The city is tidy and well-defended, with beautiful tree-lined pathways along the fortifications where gentlemen and ladies used to stroll. It’s located on a wide plain by the river Serchio, but the surrounding countryside is hilly. The Senate house is impressive. The church of St. Michael is an extraordinary sight, and so is St. Fredian, which is notable for being the final resting place of St. Richard, an English king,31 who passed away here during his pilgrimage to Rome. This epitaph is on his tomb:
He gave up his kingdom; he left everything for Christ.
Therefore, Richard owes us the holy England. Here lies the father of Saint Wulburga, the Blessed Virgin. Est Vrillebaldi and Vinebaldi, The suffrage that grants us the rights of the Polish kingdoms.
Next this, we visited St. Croce, an excellent structure all of marble both without and within, and so adorned as may vie with many of the fairest even in Rome: witness the huge cross, valued at £15,000, above all venerable for that sacred volto which (as tradition goes) was miraculously put on the image of Christ, and made by Nicodemus, while the artist, finishing the rest of the body, was meditating what face to set on it. The inhabitants are exceedingly civil to strangers, above all places in Italy, and they speak the purest Italian. It is also cheap living, which causes travelers to set up their rest here more than in Florence, though a more cele[Pg 184]brated city; besides, the ladies here are very conversable, and the religious women not at all reserved; of these we bought gloves and embroidered stomachers, generally worn by gentlemen in these countries. The circuit of this state is but two easy days' journey, and lies mixed with the Duke of Tuscany's but having Spain for a protector (though the least bigoted of all Roman Catholics), and being one of the fortified cities in Italy, it remains in peace. The whole country abounds in excellent olives, etc.
Next, we visited St. Croce, an impressive structure entirely made of marble, both outside and inside, and so beautifully decorated that it can rival many of the finest in Rome. You can see the huge cross, valued at £15,000, notable for the sacred volto which, according to tradition, was miraculously placed on the image of Christ, created by Nicodemus, while the artist was contemplating what face to give it. The locals are very friendly to strangers, more so than in other places in Italy, and they speak the purest Italian. It's also affordable to live here, which makes travelers settle in this area more than in Florence, even though Florence is a more famous city. Additionally, the ladies here are quite sociable, and the religious women are very open; we bought gloves and embroidered stomachers from them, which are commonly worn by gentlemen in this region. The entire area can be traveled in just two easy days, and it shares borders with the Duke of Tuscany, having Spain as its protector (though Spain is the least dogmatic of all Roman Catholics). Being one of the fortified cities in Italy, it enjoys peace. The whole region is rich in excellent olives, among other things.
Going hence for Florence, we dined at Pistoria, where, besides one church, there was little observable: only in the highway we crossed a rivulet of salt water, though many miles from the sea. The country is extremely pleasant, full of gardens, and the roads straight as a line for the best part of that whole day, the hedges planted with trees at equal distances, watered with clear and plentiful streams.
Heading to Florence, we stopped for lunch in Pistoria, where, apart from one church, there wasn't much to see: only on the road did we come across a small saltwater stream, even though we were many miles from the sea. The countryside is really lovely, filled with gardens, and the roads were mostly straight as an arrow throughout the day, with hedges planted with trees at regular intervals and supplied with clear, abundant streams.
Rising early the next morning we arrived at Peggio Imperiale, being a palace of the Great Duke, not far from the city, having omitted it in my passage to Rome. The ascent to the house is by a stately gallery as it were of tall and overgrown cypress trees for near half a mile. At the entrance of these ranges, are placed statues of the Tiber and Arno, of marble; those also of Virgil, Ovid, Petrarch, and Dante. The building is sumptuous, and curiously furnished within with cabinets of pietra-commessa in tables, pavements, etc., which is a magnificence, or work, particularly affected at Florence. The pictures are, Adam and Eve by Albert Durer, very excellent; as is that piece of carving in wood by the same hand standing in a cupboard. Here is painted the whole Austrian line; the Duke's mother, sister to the Emperor, the foundress of this palace, than which there is none in Italy that I had seen more magnificently adorned, or furnished.
Rising early the next morning, we arrived at Peggio Imperiale, a palace of the Grand Duke, not far from the city, which I had skipped on my way to Rome. The approach to the house is along a grand avenue lined with tall, overgrown cypress trees stretching for about half a mile. At the entrance of this path are statues of the Tiber and Arno made of marble, as well as statues of Virgil, Ovid, Petrarch, and Dante. The building is luxurious and interestingly furnished inside with pietra-commessa cabinets in tables, pavements, and more, which is a style particularly favored in Florence. The paintings include an excellent depiction of Adam and Eve by Albrecht Dürer, and there's also a carved wooden piece by the same artist displayed in a cupboard. Here, the entire Austrian lineage is painted; the Duke’s mother, sister to the Emperor, is the founder of this palace, which is the most magnificently decorated and furnished one I’ve seen in Italy.
We could not omit in our passage to re-visit the same, and other curiosities which we had neglected on our first being at Florence. We went, therefore, to see the famous piece of Andrea del Sarto, in the Annunciata. The story is, that the painter in a time of dearth borrowed a sack of corn of the religious of that convent, and repayment being demanded, he wrought it out in this picture, which represents Joseph sitting on a sack of corn, and reading to the[Pg 185] Blessed Virgin; a piece infinitely valued. There fell down in the cloister an old man's face painted on the wall in fresco, greatly esteemed, and broke into crumbs; the Duke sent his best painters to make another instead of it, but none of them would presume to touch a pencil where Andrea had wrought, like another Apelles; but one of them was so industrious and patient, that, picking up the fragments, he laid and fastened them so artificially together, that the injury it had received was hardly discernible. Andrea del Sarto lies buried in the same place. Here is also that picture of Bartolomeo, who having spent his utmost skill in the face of the angel Gabriel, and being troubled that he could not exceed it in the Virgin, he began the body and to finish the clothes, and so left it, minding in the morning to work on the face; but, when he came, no sooner had he drawn away the cloth that was hung before it to preserve it from the dust, than an admirable and ravishing face was found ready painted; at which miracle all the city came in to worship. It is now kept in the Chapel of the Salutation, a place so enriched by devotees, that none in Italy, save Loretto, is said to exceed it. This picture is always covered with three shutters, one of which is of massy silver; methinks it is very brown, the forehead and cheeks whiter, as if it had been scraped. They report that those who have the honor of seeing it never lose their sight—happy then we! Belonging to this church is a world of plate, some whole statues of it, and lamps innumerable, besides the costly vows hung up, some of gold, and a cabinet of precious stones.
We couldn't skip re-visiting the same places, along with other interesting sights we missed on our first trip to Florence. So, we went to see the famous work by Andrea del Sarto in the Annunciata. The story goes that during a time of famine, the painter borrowed a sack of corn from the monks at that convent, and to repay them, he created this painting, which shows Joseph sitting on a sack of corn and reading to the Blessed Virgin; it's highly valued. There was also an old man's face painted in fresco that fell off the wall in the cloister and crumbled. The Duke sent his best painters to replace it, but none of them dared to paint over what Andrea had done, like another Apelles. However, one artist was so dedicated and patient that he picked up the pieces and arranged them so skillfully that the damage was barely noticeable. Andrea del Sarto is buried in the same spot. There's also the painting by Bartolomeo, who spent all his skill on the angel Gabriel’s face but was frustrated that he couldn't match it with the Virgin’s. He started working on the body and clothing, intending to finish the face the next morning. But when he returned and removed the cloth protecting it from dust, he discovered an amazing and lifelike face already painted; this miracle drew the entire city to come and worship. It’s now housed in the Chapel of the Salutation, a place so frequented by devotees that only Loretto is said to surpass it in significance. This artwork is always covered by three shutters, one made of solid silver; I think it looks quite dark, with the forehead and cheeks appearing whiter, as if they had been polished. They say that those who have the honor of seeing it never lose their sight—how lucky we are! This church has a wealth of silverware, some full statues, countless lamps, along with valuable vows hung up, some made of gold, and a cabinet of precious stones.
Visiting the Duke's repository again, we told at least forty ranks of porphyry and other statues, and twenty-eight whole figures, many rare paintings and relievos, two square columns with trophies. In one of the galleries, twenty-four figures, and fifty antique heads; a Bacchus of M. Angelo, and one of Bandinelli; a head of Bernini, and a most lovely Cupid, of Parian marble; at the further end, two admirable women sitting, and a man fighting with a centaur; three figures in little of Andrea; a huge candlestick of amber; a table of Titian's painting, and another representing God the Father sitting in the air on the Four Evangelists; animals; divers smaller pieces of Raphael; a piece of pure virgin gold, as big as an egg. In the third chamber of rarities is the square[Pg 186] cabinet, valued at 80,000 crowns, showing on every front, a variety of curious work; one of birds and flowers, of pietra-commessa; one, a descent from the cross, of M. Angelo; on the third, our Blessed Savior and the Apostles, of amber; and, on the fourth, a crucifix of the same. Between the pictures, two naked Venuses, by Titian; Adam and Eve, by Durer; and several pieces of Portdenone, and del Frate. There is a globe of six feet diameter. In the Armory, were an entire elk, a crocodile, and among the harness, several targets and antique horse-arms, as that of Charles V.; two set with turquoises, and other precious stones; a horse's tail, of a wonderful length. Then, passing the Old Palace, which has a very great hall for feasts and comedies, the roof rarely painted, and the side walls with six very large pictures representing battles, the work of Gio. Vassari. Here is a magazine full of plate; a harness of emeralds; the furnitures of an altar four feet high, and six in length, of massy gold; in the middle is placed the statue of Cosmo II., the bass-relievo is of precious stones, his breeches covered with diamonds; the moldings of this statue, and other ornaments, festoons, etc., are garnished with jewels and great pearls, dedicated to St. Charles, with this inscription, in rubies:
Visiting the Duke's collection again, we counted at least forty ranks of porphyry and other statues, along with twenty-eight complete figures, many rare paintings, and reliefs, two square columns adorned with trophies. In one of the galleries, there are twenty-four figures and fifty antique heads; a Bacchus by Michelangelo and one by Bandinelli; a head of Bernini, and a beautiful Cupid made of Parian marble; at the far end, there are two stunning women sitting, and a man battling with a centaur; three small figures by Andrea; a huge amber candlestick; a table with a painting by Titian, and another showing God the Father seated in the air on the Four Evangelists; various animals; several smaller pieces by Raphael; and a piece of pure virgin gold the size of an egg. In the third chamber of rarities is the square cabinet, valued at 80,000 crowns, showcasing a variety of intricate work on every side; one featuring birds and flowers, made of pietra-commessa; one depicting the descent from the cross by Michelangelo; on the third, our Blessed Savior and the Apostles, made of amber; and, on the fourth, a crucifix of the same material. Between the pictures are two naked Venuses by Titian; Adam and Eve by Dürer; and several pieces by Pordenone and del Frate. There's a globe six feet in diameter. In the Armory, there was a full elk, a crocodile, and among the armor, several shields and antique horse gear, including that of Charles V.; two encrusted with turquoise and other precious stones; a horse's tail of remarkable length. Then, passing the Old Palace, which has a large hall for feasts and comedies, featuring a beautifully painted ceiling and walls adorned with six large paintings depicting battles, created by Giorgio Vasari. Here is a storage room filled with silverware; a harness of emeralds; the furnishings of an altar four feet high and six feet long, made of solid gold; in the center is the statue of Cosimo II., with the bass-relief made of precious stones, and his breeches covered in diamonds; the moldings of this statue and other decorations, like festoons, etc., are embellished with jewels and large pearls, dedicated to St. Charles, with this inscription in rubies:
"Cosimus Secundus Dei gratiâ Magnus Dux Etruriæ ex voto."
"Cosimus II, by the grace of God, Grand Duke of Tuscany, according to his vow."
There is also a King on horseback, of massy gold, two feet high, and an infinity of such like rarities. Looking at the Justice, in copper, set up on a column by Cosmo, in 1555, after the victory over Sienna, we were told that the Duke, asking a gentleman how he liked the piece, he answered, that he liked it very well, but that it stood too high for poor men to come at it.
There is also a King on horseback, made of solid gold, two feet tall, along with countless other rare items. While looking at the statue of Justice, made of copper and placed on a column by Cosmo in 1555 after the victory over Sienna, we were told that when the Duke asked a gentleman how he liked the statue, he replied that he thought it was great, but it was positioned too high for common people to reach.
Prince Leopold has, in this city, a very excellent collection of paintings, especially a St. Catherine of P. Veronese; a Venus of marble, veiled from the middle to the feet, esteemed to be of that Greek workman who made the Venus at the Medici's Palace in Rome, altogether as good, and better preserved, an inestimable statue, not long since found about Bologna.
Prince Leopold has a fantastic collection of paintings in this city, particularly a St. Catherine by P. Veronese; a marble Venus, covered from the waist down, believed to be made by the same Greek artist who created the Venus at the Medici Palace in Rome, which is just as good and better preserved—an invaluable statue that was recently discovered near Bologna.
Signor Gaddi is a lettered person, and has divers rarities, statues, and pictures of the best masters, and one bust of marble as much esteemed as the most antique in[Pg 187] Italy, and many curious manuscripts; his best paintings are, a Virgin of del Sarto, mentioned by Vassari, a St. John, by Raphael, and an Ecce Homo, by Titian.
Signor Gaddi is an educated individual who possesses various rarities, statues, and paintings by the finest artists, including a marble bust that is as highly valued as the most ancient in [Pg 187] Italy, along with many fascinating manuscripts. His most notable paintings include a Virgin by del Sarto, noted by Vasari, a St. John by Raphael, and an Ecce Homo by Titian.
The hall of the Academy de la Crusca is hung about with impresses and devices painted, all of them relating to corn sifted from the bran; the seats are made like breadbaskets and other rustic instruments used about wheat, and the cushions of satin, like sacks.
The hall of the Academy de la Crusca is decorated with images and designs, all of them related to corn sifted from the bran; the seats are styled like breadbaskets and other rustic tools used for wheat, and the cushions are made of satin, resembling sacks.
We took our farewell of St. Laurence, more particularly noticing that piece of the Resurrection, which consists of a prodigious number of naked figures, the work of Pontormo. On the left hand is the Martyrdom of St. Laurence, by Bronzino, rarely painted indeed. In a chapel is the tomb of Pietro di Medici, and his brother John, of copper, excellently designed, standing on two lions' feet, which end in foliage, the work of M. Angelo. Over against this, are sepulchres of all the ducal family. The altar has a statue of the Virgin giving suck, and two Apostles. Paulus Jovius has the honor to be buried in the cloister. Behind the choir is the superb chapel of Ferdinand I., consisting of eight faces, four plain, four a little hollowed; in the other are to be the sepulchres, and a niche of paragon, for the statue of the prince now living, all of copper gilt; above, is a large table of porphyry, for an inscription for the Duke, in letters of jasper. The whole chapel, walls, pavement, and roof, are full of precious stones united with the moldings, which are also of gilded copper, and so are the bases and capitals of the columns. The tabernacle, with the whole altar, is inlaid with cornelians, lazuli, serpentine, agates, onyxes, etc. On the other side are six very large columns of rock crystal, eight figures of precious stones of several colors, inlaid in natural figures, not inferior to the best paintings, among which are many pearls, diamonds, amethysts, topazes, sumptuous and sparkling beyond description. The windows without side are of white marble. The library is the architecture of Raphael; before the port is a square vestibule of excellent art, of all the orders, without confusion; the ascent to it from the library is excellent. We numbered eighty-eight shelves, all MSS. and bound in red, chained; in all about 3,500 volumes, as they told us.
We said our goodbyes to St. Laurence, paying special attention to that piece of the Resurrection, which features a huge number of naked figures, created by Pontormo. To the left is the Martyrdom of St. Laurence by Bronzino, which is indeed a rare painting. In a chapel is the tomb of Pietro di Medici and his brother John, made of copper, brilliantly designed, resting on two lion's feet that transition into foliage, the work of Michelangelo. Across from this are the tombs of all the ducal family. The altar has a statue of the Virgin nursing and two Apostles. Paulus Jovius is honored with a burial in the cloister. Behind the choir is the magnificent chapel of Ferdinand I., which consists of eight faces, four plain and four slightly recessed; there will be sepulchers in the other part, and a niche of paragon for the statue of the current prince, all made of gilded copper; above, there's a large porphyry table meant for an inscription for the Duke, using jasper letters. The entire chapel, including the walls, floor, and ceiling, is adorned with precious stones intermingled with moldings, which are also made of gilded copper, as are the bases and capitals of the columns. The tabernacle and the entire altar are inlaid with cornelian, lapis lazuli, serpentine, agate, onyx, and so on. On the other side, there are six very large columns made of rock crystal, with eight figures made of various colored precious stones, inlaid in natural patterns, rivaling the best paintings, many of which include pearls, diamonds, amethysts, and topazes, luxurious and sparkling beyond description. The exterior windows are made of white marble. The library showcases Raphael's architecture; in front of the entrance is a square vestibule of excellent design, featuring all the architectural orders without confusion; the approach to it from the library is remarkable. We counted eighty-eight shelves, all filled with manuscripts bound in red and chained; in total, there are about 3,500 volumes, as we were told.
The Arsenal has sufficient to arm 70,000 men, accurately preserved and kept, with divers lusty pieces of ordnance,[Pg 188] whereof one is for a ball of 300 pounds weight, and another for 160, which weighs 72,500 pounds.
The Arsenal has enough weapons to equip 70,000 men, well-maintained and stored, with various powerful pieces of ordnance,[Pg 188] one for a ball weighing 300 pounds and another for 160, which weighs 72,500 pounds.
When I was at Florence, the celebrated masters were: for pietra-commessa (a kind of mosaic, or inlaying, of various colored marble, and other more precious stones), Dominico Benetti and Mazotti; the best statuary, Vincentio Brochi. This statuary makes those small figures in plaster and pasteboard, which so resemble copper that, till one handles them, they cannot be distinguished, he has so rare an art of bronzing them; I bought four of him. The best painter, Pietro Beretino di Cortona.
When I was in Florence, the famous masters were: for pietra-commessa (a type of mosaic or inlay made with different colored marble and other precious stones), Dominico Benetti and Mazotti; for the best sculpture, Vincentio Brochi. This sculptor makes those small figures out of plaster and pasteboard that look so much like copper that you can’t tell the difference until you handle them; he has such a unique technique for bronzing them. I bought four from him. The best painter was Pietro Beretino di Cortona.
This Duke has a daily tribute for every courtezan, or prostitute, allowed to practice that infamous trade in his dominions, and so has his Holiness the Pope, but not so much in value.
This Duke requires a daily payment from every courtesan, or prostitute, who is permitted to engage in that notorious profession in his territory, and so does his Holiness the Pope, but not to the same extent.
Taking leave of our two jolly companions, Signor Giovanni and his fellow, we took horses for Bologna; and, by the way, alighted at a villa of the Grand Duke's, called Pratolino. The house is a square of four pavilions, with a fair platform about it, balustred with stone, situate in a large meadow, ascending like an amphitheater, having at the bottom a huge rock, with water running in a small channel, like a cascade; on the other side, are the gardens. The whole place seems consecrated to pleasure and summer retirement. The inside of the palace may compare with any in Italy for furniture of tapestry, beds, etc., and the gardens are delicious, and full of fountains. In the grove sits Pan feeding his flock, the water making a melodious sound through his pipe; and a Hercules, whose club yields a shower of water, which, falling into a great shell, has a naked woman riding on the backs of dolphins. In another grotto is Vulcan and his family, the walls richly composed of corals, shells, copper, and marble figures, with the hunting of several beasts, moving by the force of water. Here, having been well washed for our curiosity, we went down a large walk, at the sides whereof several slender streams of water gush out of pipes concealed underneath, that interchangeably fall into each other's channels, making a lofty and perfect arch, so that a man on horseback may ride under it, and not receive one drop of wet. This canopy, or arch of water, I thought one of the most surprising magnificences I had ever seen,[Pg 189] and very refreshing in the heat of the summer. At the end of this very long walk, stands a woman in white marble, in posture of a laundress wringing water out of a piece of linen, very naturally formed, into a vast laver, the work and invention of M. Angelo Buonarotti. Hence, we ascended Mount Parnassus, where the Muses played to us on hydraulic organs. Near this is a great aviary. All these waters came from the rock in the garden, on which is the statue of a giant representing the Apennines, at the foot of which stands this villa. Last of all, we came to the labyrinth, in which a huge colosse of Jupiter throws out a stream over the garden. This is fifty feet in height, having in his body a square chamber, his eyes and mouth serving for windows and door.
After saying goodbye to our two cheerful friends, Signor Giovanni and his companion, we took horses to Bologna and stopped by a villa owned by the Grand Duke, called Pratolino. The house is a square with four pavilions and has a nice platform around it, bordered with stone, located in a large meadow that rises up like an amphitheater, with a huge rock at the bottom where water flows in a small channel, resembling a waterfall; on the other side are the gardens. The whole place feels dedicated to enjoyment and summer relaxation. The inside of the palace is comparable to the best in Italy, with fine furniture, tapestries, beds, and more, and the gardens are delightful and filled with fountains. In the grove, Pan is depicted feeding his flock, with water creating a soothing sound through his pipes; a Hercules statue, with his club creating a shower of water that falls into a large shell, features a naked woman riding on the backs of dolphins. In another grotto, Vulcan and his family are represented, with walls richly decorated with corals, shells, copper, and marble figures, showcasing scenes of hunting various animals that move through the power of water. Here, having been thoroughly impressed by our curiosity, we walked down a long path, flanked by several slender streams of water gushing out from concealed pipes, which interchangeably flow into each other's channels, forming a high and perfect arch, allowing a person on horseback to ride beneath it without getting wet. I found this water canopy, or arch, to be one of the most astonishing spectacles I had ever seen, and incredibly refreshing during the summer heat. At the end of this very long path stands a woman made of white marble, posed like a laundress wringing water from a piece of fabric into a large basin, very realistically crafted by M. Angelo Buonarotti. From there, we climbed Mount Parnassus, where the Muses played for us on hydraulic organs. Nearby, there's a large aviary. All these waters flow from the rock in the garden, which features a statue of a giant representing the Apennines, at the foot of which stands this villa. Lastly, we arrived at the labyrinth, where a massive statue of Jupiter releases a stream of water over the garden. This statue is fifty feet tall, with a square chamber inside its body, and its eyes and mouth serve as windows and a door.
We took horse and supped that night at Il Ponte, passing a dreadful ridge of the Apennines, in many places capped with snow, which covers them the whole summer. We then descended into a luxurious and rich plain. The next day we passed through Scarperia, mounting the hills again, where the passage is so straight and precipitous toward the right hand, that we climbed them with much care and danger; lodging at Firenzuolo, which is a fort built among the rocks, and defending the confines of the Great Duke's territories.
We rode horses and had dinner that night at Il Ponte, crossing a frightening ridge of the Apennines, which in many places is topped with snow that stays the whole summer. Then we dropped down into a lush and prosperous plain. The next day we went through Scarperia, climbing the hills again, where the path is so steep and narrow on the right side that we ascended with great caution and risk; we stayed overnight at Firenzuolo, a fortress built among the rocks, protecting the borders of the Great Duke's lands.
The next day we passed by the Pietramala, a burning mountain. At the summit of this prodigious mass of hills, we had an unpleasant way to Pianura, where we slept that night and were entertained with excellent wine. Hence to Scargalasino, and to bed at Loiano. This plain begins about six miles from Bologna.
The next day we went by the Pietramala, a burning mountain. At the top of this huge range of hills, we had a tough journey to Pianura, where we spent the night and enjoyed some great wine. Then we headed to Scargalasino and went to bed in Loiano. This plain starts about six miles from Bologna.
Bologna belongs to the Pope, and is a famous University, situate in one of the richest spots of Europe for all sorts of provisions. It is built like a ship, whereof the Torre d'Asinelli may go for the mainmast. The city is of no great strength, having a trifling wall about it, in circuit near five miles, and two in length. This Torre d'Asinelli, ascended by 447 steps of a foot rise, seems exceedingly high, is very narrow, and the more conspicuous from another tower called Garisendi, so artificially built of brick (which increases the wonder) that it seems ready to fall. It is not now so high as the other; but they say the upper part was formerly taken down, for fear it should really fall, and do mischief.[Pg 190]
Bologna is under the Pope's control and is home to a famous university, located in one of the wealthiest areas of Europe for all kinds of resources. The city is shaped like a ship, with the Torre d'Asinelli serving as the main mast. It’s not very fortified, with a small wall surrounding it that measures about five miles around and two miles long. The Torre d'Asinelli, which has 447 steps to climb, appears extremely tall, is quite narrow, and stands out even more next to another tower called Garisendi, which is built in such a way that it looks like it could tumble down. It’s not as tall as the Torre d'Asinelli anymore; they say the top part was removed at one time to prevent it from actually collapsing and causing harm.[Pg 190]
Next, we went to see an imperfect church, called St. Petronius, showing the intent of the founder, had he gone on. From this, our guide led us to the schools, which indeed are very magnificent. Thence to St. Dominic's, where that saint's body lies richly enshrined. The stalls, or seats, of this goodly church have the history of the Bible inlaid with several woods, very curiously done, the work of one Fr. Damiano di Bergamo, and a friar of that order. Among other relics, they show the two books of Esdras, written with his own hand. Here lie buried Jac. Andreas, and divers other learned persons. To the church joins the convent, in the quadrangle whereof are old cypresses, said to have been planted by their saint.
Next, we visited an imperfect church called St. Petronius, which reflects the founder's vision, if he had continued his work. From there, our guide took us to the schools, which are truly magnificent. Then we went to St. Dominic's, where the saint's body is richly enshrined. The pews in this beautiful church have the history of the Bible intricately inlaid with various woods, skillfully done by a friar named Fr. Damiano di Bergamo. Among other relics, they display the two books of Esdras, written by his own hand. Here lie buried Jac. Andreas and several other learned individuals. The church connects to the convent, where the quadrangle features old cypress trees, said to have been planted by the saint himself.
Then we went to the palace of the Legate; a fair brick building, as are most of the houses and buildings, full of excellent carving and moldings, so as nothing in stone seems to be better finished or more ornamental; witness those excellent columns to be seen in many of their churches, convents, and public buildings; for the whole town is so cloistered, that one may pass from house to house through the streets without being exposed either to rain or sun.
Then we went to the Legate’s palace; a beautiful brick building, like most of the houses and buildings, filled with amazing carvings and moldings, so that nothing in stone appears better finished or more decorative; just look at those impressive columns found in many of their churches, convents, and public buildings. The whole town is so sheltered that you can move from house to house through the streets without being exposed to either rain or sun.
Before the stately hall of this palace stands the statue of Paul IV. and divers others; also the monument of the coronation of Charles V. The piazza before it is the most stately in Italy, St. Mark's at Venice only excepted. In the center of it is a fountain of Neptune, a noble figure in copper. Here I saw a Persian walking about in a rich vest of cloth of tissue, and several other ornaments, according to the fashion of his country, which much pleased me; he was a young handsome person, of the most stately mien.
Before the grand hall of this palace stands the statue of Paul IV and several others, as well as the monument commemorating the coronation of Charles V. The square in front of it is the most impressive in Italy, only surpassed by St. Mark's in Venice. In the center is a magnificent fountain of Neptune, a stunning figure made of copper. Here, I saw a Persian strolling in a luxurious garment made of brocade, adorned with various ornaments in the style of his country, which I found very pleasing; he was a young, handsome man with a very dignified presence.
I would fain have seen the library of St. Savior, famous for the number of rare manuscripts; but could not, so we went to St. Francis, a glorious pile, and exceedingly adorned within.
I would have loved to see the library of St. Savior, known for its collection of rare manuscripts; but I couldn't, so we went to St. Francis, an impressive building, and beautifully decorated inside.
After dinner I inquired out a priest and Dr. Montalbano, to whom I brought recommendations from Rome: this learned person invented, or found out, the composition of the lapis illuminabilis, or phosphorus. He showed me their property (for he had several), being to retain the light of the sun for some competent time, by a kind of imbibition, by a particular way of calcination. Some[Pg 191] of these presented a blue color, like the flame of brimstone, others like coals of a kitchen fire. The rest of the afternoon was taken up in St. Michael in Bosco, built on a steep hill on the edge of the city, for its fabric, pleasant shade and groves, cellars, dormitory, and prospects, one of the most delicious retirements I ever saw; art and nature contending which shall exceed; so as till now I never envied the life of a friar. The whole town and country to a vast extent are under command of their eyes, almost as far as Venice itself. In this convent there are many excellent paintings of Guido Reni; above all, the little cloister of eight faces, painted by Caracci in fresco. The carvings in wood, in the sacristy, are admirable, as is the inlaid work about the chapel, which even emulates the best paintings; the work is so delicate and tender. The paintings of the Savior are of Caracci and Leonardo, and there are excellent things of Raphael which we could not see.
After dinner, I sought out a priest and Dr. Montalbano, to whom I brought recommendations from Rome. This knowledgeable person invented, or discovered, the composition of the lapis illuminabilis, or phosphorus. He showed me their properties (he had several), which retained sunlight for a good amount of time, through a kind of absorption, due to a specific method of calcination. Some[Pg 191] of these glowed a blue color, similar to the flame of sulfur, while others looked like coals from a kitchen fire. The rest of the afternoon was spent at St. Michael in Bosco, built on a steep hill on the edge of the city, which was one of the most delightful retreats I've ever seen, with its beautiful architecture, pleasant shade, groves, cellars, dormitory, and breathtaking views; it felt like art and nature were in a contest to outdo each other. I found myself not envying the life of a friar at all. The entire town and countryside are within view, almost as far as Venice itself. In this convent, there are many excellent paintings by Guido Reni; above all, the small cloister with eight faces painted in fresco by Caracci. The wooden carvings in the sacristy are remarkable, as is the inlaid work around the chapel, which even rivals the best paintings; the craftsmanship is so delicate and refined. The paintings of the Savior are by Caracci and Leonardo, and there are wonderful pieces by Raphael that we couldn’t see.
In the church of St. John is a fine piece of St. Cecilia, by Raphael. As to other paintings, there is in the church of St. Gregory an excellent picture of a Bishop giving the habit of St. Bernard to an armed soldier, with several other figures in the piece, the work of Guerchino. Indeed, this city is full of rare pieces, especially of Guido Domenico, and a virgin named Isabella Sirani, now living, who has painted many excellent pieces, and imitates Guido so well, that many skillful artists have been deceived.
In the church of St. John, there's a stunning painting of St. Cecilia by Raphael. In the church of St. Gregory, you can find an impressive artwork of a bishop giving the habit of St. Bernard to an armed soldier, along with several other figures, created by Guerchino. This city is truly rich in remarkable artworks, especially those by Guido Domenico, and a young artist named Isabella Sirani, who is currently living and has painted many outstanding pieces. She imitates Guido so well that many skilled artists have been fooled.
At the Mendicants are the Miracles of St. Eloy, by Reni, after the manner of Caravaggio, but better; and here they showed us that famous piece of Christ calling St. Matthew, by Annibal Caracci. The Marquis Magniani has the whole frieze of his hall painted in fresco by the same hand.
At the Mendicants, there are the Miracles of St. Eloy, painted by Reni in a style similar to Caravaggio, but it's even better. They also showed us that well-known piece of Christ calling St. Matthew, by Annibal Caracci. The Marquis Magniani has his entire hall frieze painted in fresco by the same artist.
Many of the religious men nourish those lapdogs which the ladies are so fond of, and which they here sell. They are a pigmy sort of spaniels, whose noses they break when puppies; which, in my opinion, deforms them.
Many of the religious men take care of those little lapdogs that the ladies love so much and sell here. They are tiny spaniels whose noses are broken when they are puppies, which, in my opinion, deforms them.
At the end of the turning in one of the wings of the dormitory of St. Michael, I found a paper pasted near the window, containing the dimensions of most of the famous churches in Italy compared with their towers here, and the length of this gallery, a copy whereof I took.[Pg 192]
At the end of the turn in one of the wings of the dormitory at St. Michael, I saw a paper taped near the window that listed the dimensions of most of the famous churches in Italy compared to their towers here, along with the length of this gallery, which I copied.[Pg 192]
Braccia32 | Piede di Bolognia | Canna di Roma. | |
St. Peter's Basilica, long | 284 | 473 | 84 |
High wall cupola | 210 | 350 | 60 |
Torre d'Asinello, tall | 208 4/5 | 348 | 59 pr.mi 6 |
St. Mich. Dormitory in Bologn. long | 254 | 423 | 72 ½ |
From hence being brought to a subterranean territory of cellars, the courteous friars made us taste a variety of excellent wines; and so we departed to our inn.
Being taken to an underground area of cellars, the friendly friars let us sample a variety of excellent wines; and then we went back to our inn.
The city is famous also for sausages; and here is sold great quantities of Parmegiano cheese, with Botargo, Caviare, etc., which makes some of their shops perfume the streets with no agreeable smell. We furnished ourselves with wash balls, the best being made here, and being a considerable commodity. This place has also been celebrated for lutes made by the old masters, Mollen, Hans Frey, and Nicholas Sconvelt, which were of extraordinary price; the workmen were chiefly Germans. The cattle used for draught in this country (which is very rich and fertile, especially in pasturage) are covered with housings of linen fringed at the bottom, that dangle about them, preserving them from flies, which in summer are very troublesome.
The city is also well-known for its sausages, and here they sell large quantities of Parmigiano cheese, along with Bottarga, Caviar, and more, which causes some of the shops to fill the streets with not-so-pleasant smells. We stocked up on wash balls, the best of which are made here and are quite popular. This place has also gained fame for lutes crafted by the old masters, Mollen, Hans Frey, and Nicholas Sconvelt, which were extremely expensive; the workers were mainly Germans. The animals used for labor in this region (which is very rich and fertile, especially for grazing) are covered with linen coverings that have fringes at the bottom, which dangle and protect them from flies, which can be quite bothersome in the summer.
From this pleasant city, we proceeded toward Ferrara, carrying with us a bulletino, or bill of health (customary in all these parts of Italy, especially in the State of Venice) and so put ourselves into a boat that was towed with horses, often interrupted by the sluices (inventions there to raise the water for the use of mills, and to fill the artificial canals) at each of which we stayed till passage was made. We went by the Castle Bentivoglio, and, about night arrived at an ugly inn called Mal Albergo, agreeable to its name, whence, after we had supped, we embarked and passed that night through the Fens, where we were so pestered with those flying glow-worms, called Luccioli, that one who had never heard of them, would think the country full of sparks of fire. Beating some of them down and applying them to a book, I could read in the dark by the light they afforded.
From this pleasant city, we headed towards Ferrara, bringing along a health certificate (customary in all parts of Italy, especially in the State of Venice) and boarded a boat that was towed by horses. Our journey was frequently interrupted by sluices (devices used to raise water for mills and fill the artificial canals), where we would stop until we could pass. We went past Castle Bentivoglio and arrived at a run-down inn called Mal Albergo, which was fitting for its name. After having dinner, we set off again and spent the night traveling through the Fens, where we were bothered by flying glow-worms, known as Luccioli. Someone who had never seen them would think the area was filled with sparks of fire. I knocked some of them down and used their light to read in the dark.
Quitting our boat, we took coach, and by morning got to Ferrara, where, before we could gain entrance, our[Pg 193] guns and arms were taken from us of custom, the lock being taken off before, as we were advised. The city is in a low marshy country, and therefore well fortified. The houses and streets have nothing of beauty, except the palace and church of St. Benedict, where Ariosto lies buried, and there are some good statues, the palazzo del Diamante, citadel, church of St. Dominico. The market-place is very spacious, having in its centre the figure of Nicholao Oläo once Duke of Ferrara, on horseback, in copper. It is, in a word, a dirty town, and, though the streets be large they remain ill paved; yet it is a University and now belongs to the Pope. Though there are not many fine houses in the city, the inn where we lodged was a very noble palace, having an Angel for its sign.
After leaving our boat, we took a coach and arrived in Ferrara by morning. Before we were allowed in, our guns and weapons were taken from us as per usual, with the lock removed beforehand, as we had been advised. The city is located in a low, marshy area, which makes it well fortified. The houses and streets aren't particularly beautiful, except for the palace and the church of St. Benedict, where Ariosto is buried, along with some nice statues, the Palazzo del Diamante, the citadel, and the church of St. Dominico. The marketplace is quite spacious, featuring in its center a statue of Nicholao Oläo, formerly the Duke of Ferrara, on horseback, made of copper. In short, it’s a dirty town, and although the streets are wide, they are poorly paved; however, it is a university town and now belongs to the Pope. While there aren’t many elegant buildings in the city, the inn where we stayed was a very grand palace, marked by an Angel sign.
We parted from hence about three in the afternoon, and went some of our way on the canal, and then embarked on the Po; or Padus; by the poets called Eridanus, where they feign Phæton to have fallen after his rash attempt, and where Io was metamorphosed into a cow. There was in our company, among others, a Polonian Bishop, who was exceeding civil to me in this passage, and afterward did me many kindnesses at Venice. We supped this night at a place called Corbua, near the ruins of the ancient city, Adria, which gives name to the Gulf, or Sea. After three miles, having passed thirty on the Po, we embarked in a stout vessel, and through an artificial canal, very straight, we entered the Adige, which carried us by break of day into the Adriatic, and so sailing prosperously by Chioza (a town upon an island in this sea), and Palestina, we came over against Malamocco (the chief port and anchorage where our English merchantmen lie that trade to VENICEVenice) about seven at night, after we had stayed at least two hours for permission to land, our bill of health being delivered, according to custom. So soon as we came on shore, we were conducted to the Dogana, where our portmanteaus were visited, and then we got to our lodging, which was at honest Signor Paulo Rhodomante's at the Black Eagle, near the Rialto, one of the best quarters of the town. This journey from Rome to Venice cost me seven pistoles, and thirteen julios.
We left around three in the afternoon and traveled part of the way on the canal before getting on the Po River, also known as Padus, which the poets refer to as Eridanus, where they say Phaethon fell after his reckless attempt, and where Io was turned into a cow. Among our companions was a Polish bishop who was exceptionally polite to me during this journey and later did many kind things for me in Venice. That night, we had dinner at a place called Corbua, near the ruins of the ancient city of Adria, which gives its name to the Gulf or Sea. After three miles and having traveled thirty on the Po, we boarded a sturdy vessel, and through a very straight artificial canal, we entered the Adige, which carried us into the Adriatic by dawn. We sailed smoothly past Chioggia (a town on an island in this sea) and Palestina until we reached Malamocco (the main port where our English merchant ships dock when trading with Venice) around seven at night, after waiting at least two hours for permission to land, as per custom, while our health certificate was checked. As soon as we got ashore, we were taken to the Dogana, where our luggage was inspected, and then we made our way to our lodging at the friendly Signor Paulo Rhodomante's place, the Black Eagle, near the Rialto, one of the best areas in town. This journey from Rome to Venice cost me seven pistoles and thirteen julius.
June, 1645. The next morning, finding myself extremely weary and beaten with my journey, I went to[Pg 194] one of their bagnios, where you are treated after the eastern manner, washing with hot and cold water, with oils, and being rubbed with a kind of strigil of seal-skin, put on the operator's hand like a glove. This bath did so open my pores, that it cost me one of the greatest colds I ever had in my life, for want of necessary caution in keeping myself warm for some time after; for, coming out, I immediately began to visit the famous places of the city; and travelers who come into Italy do nothing but run up and down to see sights, and this city well deserved our admiration, being the most wonderfully placed of any in the world, built on so many hundred islands, in the very sea, and at good distance from the continent. It has no fresh water except what is reserved in cistern from rain, and such as is daily brought from terra firma in boats, yet there was no want of it, and all sorts of excellent provisions were very cheap.
June, 1645. The next morning, feeling extremely tired and worn out from my journey, I went to[Pg 194] one of their baths, where you get treated in the Eastern style, washing with hot and cold water, oils, and being scrubbed with a seal-skin strigil that fits on the operator's hand like a glove. This bath opened up my pores so much that I caught one of the worst colds I've ever had because I didn’t take the necessary precautions to keep warm afterward. As soon as I came out, I started visiting the famous spots in the city; travelers in Italy spend all their time rushing around to see the sights, and this city truly deserved our admiration, being one of the most uniquely located in the world, built on several hundred islands right in the sea and quite distant from the mainland. It has no fresh water except what’s stored in cisterns from rain and what is brought daily from the mainland by boat, yet there was no shortage of it, and all kinds of excellent food were very cheap.
It is said that when the Huns overran Italy, some mean fishermen and others left the mainland, and fled for shelter to these despicable and muddy islands, which, in process of time, by industry, are grown to the greatness of one of the most considerable States, considered as a Republic, and having now subsisted longer than any of the four ancient Monarchies, flourishing in great state, wealth, and glory, by the conquest of great territories in Italy, Dacia, Greece, Candia, Rhodes, and Sclavonia, and at present challenging the empire of all the Adriatic Sea, which they yearly espouse by casting a gold ring into it with great pomp and ceremony, on Ascension-day; the desire of seeing this was one of the reasons that hastened us from Rome.
It’s said that when the Huns invaded Italy, some unkind fishermen and others left the mainland and sought refuge on these unattractive and muddy islands. Over time, through hard work, they have grown to become one of the most significant states, recognized as a Republic, and now have lasted longer than any of the four ancient monarchies. They thrive in great prosperity, wealth, and glory, having conquered vast territories in Italy, Dacia, Greece, Crete, Rhodes, and Slavic territory. Today, they claim dominion over the entire Adriatic Sea, which they annually honor by throwing a gold ring into it with much pomp and celebration on Ascension Day. The desire to witness this was one of the reasons that hurried us away from Rome.
The Doge, having heard mass in his robes of state (which are very particular, after the eastern fashion), together with the Senate in their gowns, embarked in their gloriously painted, carved, and gilded Bucentora, environed and followed by innumerable galleys, gondolas, and boats, filled with spectators, some dressed in masquerade, trumpets, music, and cannons. Having rowed about a league into the Gulf, the Duke, at the prow, casts a gold ring and cup into the sea, at which a loud acclamation is echoed from the great guns of the Arsenal, and at the Liddo. We then returned.
The Doge, having attended mass in his ceremonial robes (which are quite specific, following Eastern traditions), along with the Senate in their gowns, boarded their beautifully painted, carved, and gilded Bucentora, surrounded by countless galleys, gondolas, and boats filled with spectators, some in costumes, accompanied by trumpets, music, and cannons. After rowing about a league into the Gulf, the Duke, at the front, tossed a gold ring and cup into the sea, prompting a loud cheer echoed from the big guns of the Arsenal and at the Liddo. We then made our way back.
Two days after, taking a gondola, which is their water-[Pg 195]coach (for land ones, there are many old men in this city who never saw one, or rarely a horse), we rode up and down the channels, which answer to our streets. These vessels are built very long and narrow, having necks and tails of steel, somewhat spreading at the beak like a fish's tail, and kept so exceedingly polished as to give a great lustre; some are adorned with carving, others lined with velvet (commonly black), with curtains and tassels, and the seats like couches, to lie stretched on, while he who rows, stands upright on the very edge of the boat, and, with one oar bending forward as if he would fall into the sea, rows and turns with incredible dexterity; thus passing from channel to channel, landing his fare, or patron, at what house he pleases. The beaks of these vessels are not unlike the ancient Roman rostrums.
Two days later, we took a gondola, which is their water taxi (since there are many old men in this city who have rarely seen a land coach, if ever a horse), and rode up and down the canals, which serve as our streets. These boats are very long and narrow, with steel necks and tails, slightly spreading at the front like a fish's tail, and kept so polished that they shine brightly; some are decorated with carvings, others lined with black velvet, complete with curtains and tassels, and the seats are like couches, perfect for lounging. The person rowing stands upright at the very edge of the boat, using one oar and leaning forward as if he might fall into the water, rowing and turning with amazing skill; he moves from canal to canal, dropping off passengers or patrons at any house they choose. The fronts of these boats are somewhat similar to the ancient Roman rostrums.
The first public building I went to see was the Rialto, a bridge of one arch over the grand canal, so large as to admit a galley to row under it, built of good marble, and having on it, besides many pretty shops, three ample and stately passages for people without any inconvenience, the two outmost nobly balustered with the same stone; a piece of architecture much to be admired. It was evening, and the canal where the Noblesse go to take the air, as in our Hyde Park, was full of ladies and gentlemen. There are many times dangerous stops, by reason of the multitude of gondolas ready to sink one another; and indeed they affect to lean them on one side, that one who is not accustomed to it, would be afraid of over-setting. Here they were singing, playing on harpsichords, and other music, and serenading their mistresses; in another place, racing, and other pastimes on the water, it being now exceeding hot.
The first public building I visited was the Rialto, a large single-arch bridge over the Grand Canal, spacious enough for a galleon to pass underneath. It's made of beautiful marble and features many charming shops, as well as three wide and impressive walkways for pedestrians, making it very convenient. The two outer walkways are elegantly balustered with the same stone; it’s a piece of architecture that deserves admiration. It was evening, and the canal where the nobles go for a leisurely stroll, similar to our Hyde Park, was bustling with ladies and gentlemen. There are often dangerous stops due to the numerous gondolas that nearly collide with each other; they actually lean them to the side, which can make an inexperienced person fear tipping over. Here, people were singing, playing harpsichords, and serenading their sweethearts; elsewhere, there were races and other water activities while it was extremely hot.
Next day, I went to their Exchange, a place like ours, frequented by merchants, but nothing so magnificent; from thence, my guide led me to the Fondigo di Todeschi, which is their magazine, and here many of the merchants, especially Germans, have their lodging and diet, as in a college. The outside of this stately fabric is painted by Giorgione da Castelfranco, and Titian himself.
Next day, I went to their Exchange, a place similar to ours, filled with merchants, but nothing so impressive; from there, my guide took me to the Fondigo di Todeschi, which is their warehouse, and here many of the merchants, especially Germans, have their rooms and meals, like in a college. The outside of this grand building is painted by Giorgione da Castelfranco and Titian himself.
Hence, I passed through the Mercera, one of the most delicious streets in the world for the sweetness of it,[Pg 196] and is all the way on both sides tapestried as it were with cloth of gold, rich damasks and other silks, which the shops expose and hang before their houses from the first floor, and with that variety that for near half the year spent chiefly in this city, I hardly remember to have seen the same piece twice exposed; to this add the perfumes, apothecaries' shops, and the innumerable cages of nightingales which they keep, that entertain you with their melody from shop to shop, so that shutting your eyes, you would imagine yourself in the country, when indeed you are in the middle of the sea. It is almost as silent as the middle of a field, there being neither rattling of coaches nor trampling of horses. This street, paved with brick, and exceedingly clean, brought us through an arch into the famous piazza of St. Mark.
So, I walked through the Mercera, one of the sweetest streets in the world,[Pg 196] lined on both sides like a tapestry with golden fabric, rich damasks, and other silks, which the shops display and hang from their first floors. With such a variety that after spending nearly half the year in this city, I can hardly recall seeing the same piece twice. And let’s not forget the perfumes, the apothecary shops, and the countless cages of nightingales that fill the air with their melodies from shop to shop, making you feel like you’re in the countryside, even though you’re right in the middle of the city. It’s almost as quiet as a field, with no rattling carts or clattering hooves. This street, paved with bricks and kept extremely clean, led us through an arch into the famous piazza of St. Mark.
Over this porch stands that admirable clock, celebrated, next to that of Strasburg, for its many movements; among which, about twelve and six, which are their hours of Ave Maria, when all the town are on their knees, come forth the three Kings led by a star, and passing by the image of Christ in his Mother's arms, do their reverence, and enter into the clock by another door. At the top of this turret, another automaton strikes the quarters. An honest merchant told me that one day walking in the piazza, he saw the fellow who kept the clock struck with this hammer so forcibly, as he was stooping his head near the bell, to mend something amiss at the instant of striking, that being stunned, he reeled over the battlements, and broke his neck. The buildings in this piazza are all arched, on pillars, paved within with black and white polished marble, even to the shops, the rest of the fabric as stately as any in Europe, being not only marble, but the architecture is of the famous Sansovini, who lies buried in St. Jacomo, at the end of the piazza. The battlements of this noble range of buildings, are railed with stone, and thick-set with excellent statues, which add a great ornament. One of the sides is yet much more Roman-like than the other which regards the sea, and where the church is placed. The other range is plainly Gothic; and so we entered into St. Mark's Church, before which stand two brass pedestals exquisitely cast and figured, which bear as many tall masts[Pg 197] painted red, on which, upon great festivals, they hang flags and streamers. The church is also Gothic; yet for the preciousness of the materials, being of several rich marbles, abundance of porphyry, serpentine, etc., far exceeding any in Rome, St. Peter's hardly excepted. I much admired the splendid history of our blessed Savior, composed all of Mosaic over the facciata, below which and over the four chief gates are cast four horses in copper as big as the life, the same that formerly were transported from Rome by Constantine to Byzantium, and thence by the Venetians hither.33 They are supported by eight porphyry columns, of very great size and value. Being come into the church, you see nothing, and tread on nothing, but what is precious. The floor is all inlaid with agates, lazulis, chalcedons, jaspers, porphyries, and other rich marbles, admirable also for the work; the walls sumptuously incrusted, and presenting to the imagination the shapes of men, birds, houses, flowers, and a thousand varieties. The roof is of most excellent Mosaic; but what most persons admire is the new work of the emblematic tree at the other passage out of the church. In the midst of this rich volto rise five cupolas, the middle very large and sustained by thirty-six marble columns, eight of which are of precious marbles: under these cupolas is the high altar, on which is a reliquary of several sorts of jewels, engraven with figures, after the Greek manner, and set together with plates of pure gold. The altar is covered with a canopy of ophite, on which is sculptured the story of the Bible, and so on the pillars, which are of Parian marble, that support it. Behind these, are four other columns of transparent and true Oriental alabaster, brought hither out of the mines of Solomon's Temple, as they report. There are many chapels and notable monuments of illustrious persons, dukes, cardinals, etc., as Zeno, J. Soranzi, and others: there is likewise a vast baptistry, of copper. Among other venerable relics is a stone, on which they say our blessed Lord stood preaching to those of Tyre and Sidon, and near the door is an image of Christ, much adorned, esteeming it very sacred, for that a rude fellow striking it they say, there gushed out a torrent of blood. In one[Pg 198] of the corners lies the body of St. Isidore, brought hither 500 years since from the island of Chios. A little farther, they show the picture of St. Dominic and Francis, affirmed to have been made by the Abbot Joachim (many years before any of them were born). Going out of the church, they showed us the stone where Alexander III. trod on the neck of the Emperor Frederick Barbarossa, pronouncing that verse of the psalm, "super basiliscum," etc. The doors of the church are of massy copper. There are near 500 pillars in this building, most of them porphyry and serpentine, and brought chiefly from Athens, and other parts of Greece, formerly in their power. At the corner of the church, are inserted into the main wall four figures, as big as life, cut in porphyry; which they say are the images of four brothers who poisoned one another, by which means were escheated to the Republic that vast treasury of relics now belonging to the church. At the other entrance that looks toward the sea, stands in a small chapel that statue of our Lady, made (as they affirm) of the same stone, or rock, out of which Moses brought water to the murmuring Israelites at Horeb, or Meriba.
Over this porch stands that impressive clock, famous alongside the one in Strasbourg for its many moving parts. At around twelve and six, the hours of Ave Maria, when everyone in town is on their knees, the three Kings appear, guided by a star. They pass by the statue of Christ in his Mother's arms, pay their respects, and enter the clock through another door. At the top of this tower, another automaton chimes the quarters. An honest merchant once told me that while walking in the square, he saw the man who maintained the clock accidentally struck by the hammer. He was leaning close to the bell to fix something just as it chimed, and being stunned, he staggered over the battlements and broke his neck. The buildings in this square are all arched and supported by pillars, with a black and white polished marble floor that extends even to the shops. The rest of the structure is as grand as any in Europe, made not just of marble but designed by the famed Sansovino, who is buried in St. Jacob's at the end of the square. The battlements of this impressive row of buildings are adorned with stone railings and filled with exquisite statues, adding a lot of charm. One side looks more Roman, while the other faces the sea, where the church is located. The opposite side is primarily Gothic, leading us to St. Mark's Church, which has two finely crafted brass pedestals supporting tall, red-painted masts where they hang flags and streamers during festivals. The church also features Gothic design, but the materials used—various rich marbles, lots of porphyry, serpentine, etc.—are far more lavish than anything in Rome, hardly excluding St. Peter's. I was struck by the stunning representation of our blessed Savior displayed in Mosaic above the facciata, beneath which, over the four main gates, are cast four life-sized copper horses, originally transported from Rome by Constantine to Byzantium and then brought here by the Venetians. They are supported by eight very large and valuable porphyry columns. Once inside the church, everything you see and step on is precious. The floor is inlaid with agates, lazulis, chalcedons, jaspers, porphyries, and other luxurious marbles, all remarkable for their craftsmanship; the walls are sumptuously decorated, depicting shapes of men, birds, houses, flowers, and countless varieties. The ceiling features exquisite Mosaic work; however, what most people admire is the new emblematic tree in the other exit from the church. In the center of this ornate volto are five domes, the largest of which is supported by thirty-six marble columns, eight of which are precious marbles. Beneath these domes lies the high altar, which holds a reliquary of various jewels engraved in the Greek style and set with pure gold plates. The altar is topped with a canopy of ophite, depicting biblical stories, as do the Parian marble pillars supporting it. Behind these are four columns made of transparent and true Oriental alabaster, allegedly brought from the mines of Solomon's Temple. The church contains many chapels and notable monuments to illustrious figures like dukes and cardinals, including Zeno and J. Soranzi. There's also a vast baptistry made of copper. Among other venerable relics is a stone that supposedly marks the spot where our blessed Lord preached to the people of Tyre and Sidon. Near the door is a beautifully adorned image of Christ, which is highly revered because it is said that when a rude individual struck it, a torrent of blood flowed out. In one corner lies the body of St. Isidore, brought here 500 years ago from the island of Chios. A little farther along, you can see a picture of St. Dominic and St. Francis, claimed to have been created by the Abbot Joachim long before either of them was born. As we exited the church, they showed us the stone where Alexander III stood on the neck of Emperor Frederick Barbarossa, reciting that verse from the psalm, "super basiliscum," etc. The church doors are made of massive copper. There are nearly 500 pillars in this building, most of them made of porphyry and serpentine, primarily sourced from Athens and other regions of Greece that were once under their control. On the corner of the church, four life-sized figures carved in porphyry are set into the main wall; they are said to be the images of four brothers who poisoned each other, resulting in their vast treasury of relics now belonging to the church becoming repurposed for the Republic. At the other entrance facing the sea stands a small chapel that houses the statue of our Lady, made (as they claim) from the same stone that Moses used to bring water to the complaining Israelites at Horeb, or Meriba.
After all that is said, this church is, in my opinion, much too dark and dismal, and of heavy work; the fabric,—as is much of Venice, both for buildings and other fashions and circumstances,—after the Greeks, their next neighbors.
After everything that's been said, I think this church is way too dark and gloomy, and it feels heavy. The structure—like much of Venice, in terms of both its buildings and other aspects—comes after the Greeks, who are its closest neighbors.
The next day, by favor of the French ambassador, I had admittance with him to view the Reliquary, called here Tesoro di San Marco, which very few, even of travelers, are admitted to see. It is a large chamber full of presses. There are twelve breastplates or pieces of pure golden armor, studded with precious stones, and as many crowns dedicated to St. Mark, by so many noble Venetians, who had recovered their wives taken at sea by the Saracens; many curious vases of agates; the cap, or coronet, of the Dukes of Venice, one of which had a ruby set on it, esteemed worth 200,000 crowns; two unicorns' horns; numerous vases and dishes of agate, set thick with precious stones and vast pearls; divers heads of Saints enchased in gold; a small ampulla, or glass, with our Savior's blood; a great morsel of the real cross; one of the nails; a thorn; a fragment of the column to[Pg 199] which our Lord was bound, when scourged; the standard or ensign, of Constantine; a piece of St. Luke's arm; a rib of St. Stephen; a finger of Mary Magdalen; numerous other things, which I could not remember. But a priest, first vesting himself in his sacerdotals, with the stole about his neck, showed us the gospel of St. Mark (their tutelar patron) written by his own hand, and whose body they show buried in the church, brought hither from Alexandria many years ago.
The next day, thanks to the French ambassador, I got to see the Reliquary, known here as the Tesoro di San Marco, which very few visitors are allowed to view. It’s a large room filled with cabinets. There are twelve breastplates or pieces of pure gold armor, adorned with precious stones, and as many crowns dedicated to St. Mark by noble Venetians who had rescued their wives taken at sea by the Saracens; many fascinating vases made of agate; the cap or coronet of the Dukes of Venice, one of which had a ruby valued at 200,000 crowns; two unicorn horns; numerous vases and dishes made of agate, heavily set with precious stones and large pearls; various heads of Saints encased in gold; a small flask, or glass, containing our Savior's blood; a significant piece of the true cross; one of the nails; a thorn; a fragment of the column to[Pg 199] which our Lord was tied when scourged; the standard or ensign of Constantine; a piece of St. Luke's arm; a rib of St. Stephen; a finger of Mary Magdalene; and many other items that I could not recall. But a priest, first putting on his vestments, with a stole around his neck, showed us the Gospel of St. Mark (their patron saint) written in his own hand, whose body they claim is buried in the church, transported here from Alexandria many years ago.
The Religious de li Servi have fine paintings of Paolo Veronese, especially the Magdalen.
The Religious de li Servi has beautiful paintings by Paolo Veronese, especially the Magdalen.
A French gentleman and myself went to the Courts of Justice, the Senate House, and Ducal Palace. The first court near this church is almost wholly built of several colored sorts of marble, like checkerwork on the outside; this is sustained by vast pillars, not very shapely, but observable for their capitals, and that out of thirty-three no two are alike. Under this fabric is the cloister where merchants meet morning and evening, as also the grave senators and gentlemen, to confer of state affairs, in their gowns and caps, like so many philosophers; it is a very noble and solemn spectacle. In another quadrangle, stood two square columns of white marble, carved, which they said had been erected to hang one of their Dukes on, who designed to make himself Sovereign. Going through a stately arch, there were standing in niches divers statues of great value, among which is the so celebrated Eve, esteemed worth its weight in gold; it is just opposite to the stairs where are two Colossuses of Mars and Neptune, by Sansovino. We went up into a Corridor built with several Tribunals and Courts of Justice; and by a well-contrived staircase were landed in the Senate hall, which appears to be one of the most noble and spacious rooms in Europe, being seventy-six paces long, and thirty-two in breadth. At the upper end, are the Tribunals of the Doge, Council of Ten, and Assistants: in the body of the hall, are lower ranks of seats, capable of containing 1,500 Senators; for they consist of no fewer on grand debates. Over the Duke's throne are the paintings of the Final Judgment, by Tintoret, esteemed among the best pieces in Europe. On the roof are the famous Acts of the Republic, painted by several excellent masters, especially Bassano; next[Pg 200] them, are the effigies of the several Dukes, with their Elogies. Then, we turned into a great Court painted with the Battle of Lepanto, an excellent piece; afterward, into the Chamber of the Council of Ten, painted by the most celebrated masters. From hence, by the special favor of an Illustrissimo, we were carried to see the private Armory of the Palace, and so to the same court we first entered, nobly built of polished white marble, part of which is the Duke's Court, pro tempore; there are two wells adorned with excellent work in copper. This led us to the seaside, where stand those columns of ophite stone in the entire piece, of a great height, one bearing St. Mark's Lion, the other St. Theodorus: these pillars were brought from Greece, and set up by Nicholas Baraterius, the architect; between them public executions are performed.
A French gentleman and I visited the Courts of Justice, the Senate House, and the Ducal Palace. The first court near this church is mainly built from various colored marbles, arranged like a checkerboard on the outside; it’s supported by large pillars, which aren’t particularly elegant, but can be noted for their capitals, with no two out of thirty-three being identical. Beneath this structure is the cloister where merchants gather morning and evening, as well as serious senators and gentlemen, to discuss state affairs, dressed in their gowns and caps, like philosophers; it creates a very impressive and solemn scene. In another courtyard, there are two square columns of carved white marble, which they say were erected to hang one of their Dukes who wanted to make himself Sovereign. As we passed through a grand arch, we saw various valuable statues in niches, including the famous Eve, considered worth its weight in gold; it’s directly across from the stairs that lead to two colossal statues of Mars and Neptune by Sansovino. We ascended into a corridor filled with several Tribunals and Courts of Justice; via a well-designed staircase, we reached the Senate hall, which appears to be one of the grandest and largest rooms in Europe, measuring seventy-six paces long and thirty-two wide. At the far end are the Tribunals of the Doge, the Council of Ten, and Assistants; in the main part of the hall are lower seats that accommodate 1,500 Senators, as they need that many for major debates. Above the Duke's throne are the paintings of the Final Judgment by Tintoret, regarded as some of the finest artwork in Europe. The ceiling features the renowned Acts of the Republic, painted by several excellent artists, especially Bassano; next to them are the portraits of various Dukes along with their Elogies. Afterward, we entered a grand court painted with the Battle of Lepanto, an outstanding piece; next, we went into the Chamber of the Council of Ten, painted by the most celebrated masters. From here, through the special favor of an Illustrissimo, we were allowed to see the private Armory of the Palace, and then returned to the same court we initially entered, grandly constructed with polished white marble, part of which is the Duke's Court, pro tempore; there are two wells adorned with exquisite copper work. This brought us to the seaside, where stand the tall columns of ophite stone, one featuring St. Mark's Lion and the other St. Theodorus; these pillars were brought from Greece and erected by the architect Nicholas Baraterius; public executions are performed between them.
Having fed our eyes with the noble prospect of the Island of St. George, the galleys, gondolas, and other vessels passing to and fro, we walked under the cloister on the other side of this goodly piazza, being a most magnificent building, the design of Sansovino. Here we went into the Zecca, or mint; at the entrance, stand two prodigious giants, or Hercules, of white marble; we saw them melt, beat, and coin silver, gold, and copper. We then went up into the Procuratory, and a library of excellent MSS. and books belonging to it and the public. After this, we climbed up the tower of St. Mark, which we might have done on horseback, as it is said one of the French Kings did; there being no stairs, or steps, but returns that take up an entire square on the arches forty feet, broad enough for a coach. This steeple stands by itself, without any church near it, and is rather a watch tower in the corner of the great piazza, 230 feet in height, the foundation exceeding deep; on the top, is an angel, that turns with the wind; and from hence is a prospect down the Adriatic, as far as Istria and the Dalmatian side, with the surprising sight of this miraculous city, lying in the bosom of the sea, in the shape of a lute, the numberless islands tacked together by no fewer than 450 bridges. At the foot of this tower, is a public tribunal of excellent work, in white marble polished, adorned with several brass statues and figures of stone and mezzo-relievo, the performance of some rare artist.[Pg 201]
After admiring the stunning view of the Island of St. George, with galleys, gondolas, and other boats coming and going, we walked under the cloister on the opposite side of this beautiful piazza, a magnificent building designed by Sansovino. We entered the Zecca, or mint; at the entrance, there are two massive figures, resembling Hercules, made of white marble; we watched them melt, shape, and mint silver, gold, and copper. After that, we went up to the Procuratory and a library filled with excellent manuscripts and books that belong to it and the public. Then we climbed the tower of St. Mark, which we could have done on horseback, as it’s said one of the French Kings did; there are no stairs, just ramps that occupy an entire square on the arches, forty feet wide, spacious enough for a carriage. This steeple stands alone, without any church nearby, serving more as a watchtower in the corner of the great piazza, reaching 230 feet high with a deeply-set foundation; at the top, there's an angel that turns with the wind. From there, you can see down the Adriatic, all the way to Istria and the Dalmatian coast, and the incredible sight of this miraculous city, nestled in the sea in the shape of a lute, with countless islands connected by 450 bridges. At the base of this tower, there's a public tribunal made of polished white marble, decorated with several brass statues and figures of stone and low relief, a creation of some exceptional artist.[Pg 201]
It was now Ascension-week, and the great mart, or fair, of the whole year was kept, everybody at liberty and jolly; the noblemen stalking with their ladies on choppines. These are high-heeled shoes, particularly affected by these proud dames, or, as some say, invented to keep them at home, it being very difficult to walk with them; whence, one being asked how he liked the Venetian dames, replied, they were "mezzo carne, mezzo legno," half flesh, half wood, and he would have none of them. The truth is, their garb is very odd, as seeming always in masquerade; their other habits also totally different from all nations. They wear very long, crisp hair, of several streaks and colors, which they make so by a wash, disheveling it on the brims of a broad hat that has no crown, but a hole to put out their heads by; they dry them in the sun, as one may see them at their windows. In their tire, they set silk flowers and sparkling stones, their petticoats coming from their very arm-pits, so that they are near three quarters and a half apron; their sleeves are made exceedingly wide, under which their shift-sleeves as wide, and commonly tucked up to the shoulder, showing their naked arms, through false sleeves of tiffany, girt with a bracelet or two, with knots of point richly tagged about their shoulders and other places of their body, which they usually cover with a kind of yellow veil of lawn, very transparent. Thus attired, they set their hands on the heads of two matron-like servants, or old women, to support them, who are mumbling their beads. It is ridiculous to see how these ladies crawl in and out of their gondolas, by reason of their choppines; and what dwarfs they appear, when taken down from their wooden scaffolds; of these I saw near thirty together, stalking half as high again as the rest of the world. For courtesans, or the citizens, may not wear choppines, but cover their bodies and faces with a veil of a certain glittering taffeta, or lustrée, out of which they now and then dart a glance of their eye, the whole face being otherwise entirely hid with it: nor may the common misses take this habit; but go abroad barefaced. To the corner of these virgin-veils hang broad but flat tassels of curious Point de Venice. The married women go in black veils. The nobility wear the same color, but a fine cloth lined with taffeta, in summer, with fur of the bellies of squirrels, in the winter, which all put on at a[Pg 202] certain day, girt with a girdle embossed with silver, the vest not much different from what our Bachelors of Arts wear in Oxford, and a hood of cloth, made like a sack, cast over their left shoulder, and a round cloth black cap fringed with wool, which is not so comely; they also wear their collar open, to show the diamond button of the stock of their shirt. I have never seen pearls for color and bigness comparable to what the ladies wear, most of the noble families being very rich in jewels, especially pearls, which are always left to the son, or brother who is destined to marry; which the eldest seldom do. The Doge's vest is of crimson velvet, the Procurator's, etc. of damask, very stately. Nor was I less surprised with the strange variety of the several nations seen every day in the streets and piazzas; Jews, Turks, Armenians, Persians, Moors, Greeks, Sclavonians, some with their targets and bucklers, and all in their native fashions, negotiating in this famous Emporium, which is always crowded with strangers.
It was now Ascension week, and the major market, or fair, of the entire year was happening, with everyone feeling free and cheerful; the nobles strolling with their ladies in choppines. These are high-heeled shoes particularly favored by these proud women, or, as some say, created to keep them at home since walking in them is very difficult; when asked what he thought of the Venetian ladies, one man replied they were "mezzo carne, mezzo legno," half flesh, half wood, and he wanted none of them. The truth is, their clothing is very unusual, as if they are always in costume; their other garments are completely different from those of any other nations. They wear very long, crisp hair in various colors, which they achieve through a wash, letting it spill over the brims of a broad hat that has no crown, just a hole for their heads; they dry their hair in the sun, as you can see them doing at their windows. In their attire, they adorn themselves with silk flowers and sparkling stones, with petticoats that start from their armpits, making them appear almost three-quarters and a half like an apron; their sleeves are extremely wide, under which their shift-sleeves are also wide and commonly rolled up to the shoulder, exposing their bare arms, through false sleeves of tiffany, cinched with a bracelet or two, with richly decorated knots and points on their shoulders and other body parts, usually covered with a sort of transparent yellow veil. So dressed, they rest their hands on the heads of two matron-like servants or old women supporting them, who are mumbling their beads. It's absurd to watch how these ladies struggle in and out of their gondolas because of their choppines; and they look like dwarfs when taken down from their wooden platforms; I saw nearly thirty of them together, standing nearly half as high again as everyone else. For courtesans, or citizens, they may not wear choppines, but instead cover their bodies and faces with veils made of a certain sparkling taffeta, or lustrée, peeking out occasionally with a glance, their entire faces otherwise hidden; nor can common women wear this style; they go out with bare faces. At the corner of these virgin veils hang broad but flat tassels of intricate Point de Venice. Married women wear black veils. The nobility wears the same color but made of fine cloth lined with taffeta in the summer, and fur from squirrel bellies in the winter, all worn starting on a[Pg 202] certain day, belted with a silver-embossed girdle, their garments not much different from what our Bachelor of Arts wear at Oxford, topped with a hood like a sack draped over their left shoulder, and a round black cap trimmed with wool, which is not that stylish; they also leave their collars open to show off the diamond button of their shirt’s neck. I have never seen pearls, both in color and size, comparable to what the ladies wear, as most noble families are quite wealthy in jewels, especially pearls, which are always left to the son or brother destined to marry; the eldest seldom does marry. The Doge's outfit is made of crimson velvet, the Procurator's, etc., of damask, very impressive. I was equally amazed by the strange variety of different nations seen every day in the streets and squares; Jews, Turks, Armenians, Persians, Moors, Greeks, Slavs, some with their shields and bucklers, all in their traditional styles, trading in this famous marketplace, which is always packed with visitors.
This night, having with my Lord Bruce taken our places before we went to the Opera, where comedies and other plays are represented in recitative music, by the most excellent musicians, vocal and instrumental, with variety of scenes painted and contrived with no less art of perspective, and machines for flying in the air, and other wonderful notions; taken together, it is one of the most magnificent and expensive diversions the wit of man can invent. The history was, Hercules in Lydia; the scenes changed thirteen times. The famous voices, Anna Rencia, a Roman, and reputed the best treble of women; but there was an eunuch who, in my opinion, surpassed her; also a Genoese that sung an incomparable bass. This held us by the eyes and ears till two in the morning, when we went to the Chetto de san Felice, to see the noblemen and their ladies at basset, a game at cards which is much used; but they play not in public, and all that have inclination to it are in masquerade, without speaking one word, and so they come in, play, lose or gain, and go away as they please. This time of license is only in carnival and this Ascension-week; neither are their theatres open for that other magnificence, or for ordinary comedians, save on these solemnities, they being a frugal and wise people, and exact observers of all sumptuary laws.[Pg 203]
Tonight, my Lord Bruce and I took our seats before heading to the Opera, where comedies and other plays are performed with beautiful recitative music, played by top-notch vocalists and instrumentalists. The scenes are variably designed with impressive artistry and perspective, featuring flying machines and other amazing concepts. Altogether, it's one of the most extravagant and costly forms of entertainment that human creativity can devise. The story was about Hercules in Lydia, and the scenes changed thirteen times. The standout performers were Anna Rencia, a Roman, who is said to have the best female soprano voice, but there was also a eunuch who, in my view, outperformed her; and a Genoese singer with an unmatched bass. This captivated us until two in the morning, when we went to the Chetto de san Felice to watch the nobles and their ladies playing basset, a popular card game. However, they don’t play in public; those interested participate in masquerades, never speaking a word, and they come in, play, win or lose, and leave as they wish. This kind of freedom only happens during carnival and Ascension week; their theaters are not open for other spectacles or regular performers except during these special occasions, as they are a frugal and wise people, carefully adhering to all sumptuary laws.[Pg 203]
There being at this time a ship bound for the Holy Land, I had resolved to embark, intending to see Jerusalem, and other parts of Syria, Egypt and Turkey; but after I had provided all necessaries, laid in snow to cool our drink, bought some sheep, poultry, biscuit, spirits, and a little cabinet of drugs in case of sickness, our vessel (whereof Captain Powell was master), happened to be pressed for the service of the State, to carry provisions to Candia, now newly attacked by the Turks; which altogether frustrated my design, to my great mortification.
There was a ship heading to the Holy Land at that time, and I decided to board it, planning to visit Jerusalem and other areas of Syria, Egypt, and Turkey. I got everything ready, stocked up on ice to chill our drinks, bought some sheep, poultry, biscuits, spirits, and a small cabinet of medicine in case someone got sick. However, our ship, captained by Powell, ended up being requisitioned by the government to deliver supplies to Candia, which was just attacked by the Turks. This completely ruined my plans, and I was very disappointed.
On the ... of June, we went to Padua, to the fair of their St. Anthony, in company of divers passengers. The first terra firma we landed at was Fusina, being only an inn where we changed our barge, and were then drawn up by horses through the river Brenta, a straight channel as even as a line for twenty miles, the country on both sides deliciously adorned with country villas and gentlemen's retirements, gardens planted with oranges, figs, and other fruit, belonging to the Venetians. At one of these villas we went ashore to see a pretty contrived palace. Observable in this passage was buying their water of those who farm the sluices; for this artificial river is in some places so shallow, that reserves of water are kept with sluices, which they open and shut with a most ingenious invention, or engine, governed even by a child. Thus they keep up the water, or let it go, till the next channel be either filled by the stop, or abated to the level of the other; for which every boat pays a certain duty. Thus, we stayed near half an hour and more, at three several places, so as it was evening before we got to Padua. This is a very ancient city, if the tradition of Antenor's, being the founder, be not a fiction; but thus speaks the inscription over a stately gate:
On the ... of June, we traveled to Padua for the St. Anthony fair, accompanied by several other passengers. The first place we landed was Fusina, which was just an inn where we switched our barge. We were then pulled by horses along the Brenta River, a straight channel that ran for twenty miles, perfectly even, with the landscape on both sides beautifully decorated with country villas and estates, as well as gardens filled with orange, fig, and other fruit trees owned by Venetians. At one of those villas, we got off to see a nicely designed palace. During this journey, we noticed people purchasing water from those who manage the sluices; the river is so shallow in some spots that they store water with sluices that can be opened and closed using a clever mechanism that even a child can operate. This way, they manage the water flow until the next channel is either filled or lowered to match the other, for which every boat has to pay a fee. As a result, we spent about half an hour at three different places, so it was already evening by the time we reached Padua. This city is very ancient, according to the tradition that Antenor was its founder, unless that’s just a myth; however, here’s what the inscription above a grand gate says:
"Hanc antiquissimam urbem literarum omnium asylum, cujus agrum fertilitatis Lumen Natura esse voluit, Antenor condidit, anno ante Christum natum M. Cxviii; Senatus autem Venetus his belli propugnaculis ornavit."
"This ancient city, a sanctuary for all literature, which nature wanted to be a land of fertility, was founded by Antenor in 118 BC; the Venetian Senate adorned it with these fortifications for defense during war."
The town stands on the river Padus, whence its name, and is generally built like Bologna, on arches and on brick, so that one may walk all around it, dry, and in the shade; which is very convenient in these hot countries, and I think I was never sensible of so burning a[Pg 204] heat as I was this season, especially the next day, which was that of the fair, filled with noble Venetians, by reason of a great and solemn procession to their famous cathedral. Passing by St. Lorenzo, I met with this subscription:
The town is located on the Padus River, which is where it gets its name, and is mainly constructed like Bologna, on arches and brick, allowing people to walk around it dry and in the shade; this is very convenient in these hot countries. I don't think I ever felt such intense heat as I did this season, especially the next day, which was the day of the fair, filled with noble Venetians because of a grand and formal procession to their famous cathedral. Passing by St. Lorenzo, I came across this inscription:
He transported the Heneti and Dardani here; fleeing,
Expelled the Euganei, founded Patavium,
Whoever covers this humble house with carved marble.
Under the tomb, was a cobbler at his work. Being now come to St. Antony's (the street most of the way straight, well built, and outside excellently painted in fresco), we surveyed the spacious piazza, in which is erected a noble statue of copper of a man on horseback, in memory of one Catta Malata, a renowned captain. The church, à la Greca, consists of five handsome cupolas, leaded. At the left hand within is the tomb of St. Antony and his altar, about which a mezzo-relievo of the miracles ascribed to him is exquisitely wrought in white marble by the three famous sculptors, Tullius Lombardus, Jacobus Sansovinus, and Hieronymus Compagno. A little higher is the choir, walled parapet-fashion, with sundry colored stone, half relievo, the work of Andrea Reccij. The altar within is of the same metal, which, with the candlestick and bases, is, in my opinion, as magnificent as any in Italy. The wainscot of the choir is rarely inlaid and carved. Here are the sepulchres of many famous persons, as of Rodolphus Fulgosi, etc.; and among the rest, one for an exploit at sea, has a galley exquisitely carved thereon. The procession bore the banners with all the treasure of the cloister, which was a very fine sight.
Under the tomb was a cobbler at work. Having arrived at St. Antony's (the street mostly straight, well-built, and beautifully painted on the outside in fresco), we looked over the spacious piazza, where there's a grand copper statue of a man on horseback in memory of Catta Malata, a famous captain. The church, à la Greca, features five elegant domes covered in lead. To the left inside is the tomb of St. Antony and his altar, around which is a beautiful white marble relief depicting the miracles attributed to him, crafted by the three renowned sculptors, Tullius Lombardus, Jacobus Sansovinus, and Hieronymus Compagno. A little higher up is the choir, enclosed with a parapet made of various colored stones in half relief, created by Andrea Reccij. The altar inside is made of the same metal, which, along with the candlestick and bases, is, in my view, as magnificent as any in Italy. The paneling of the choir is intricately inlaid and carved. Here lie the graves of many notable figures, including Rodolphus Fulgosi, among others; and one in particular, commemorating a naval feat, features an exquisitely carved galley. The procession carried the banners along with all the treasures of the cloister, which was a splendid sight.
Hence, walking over the Prato delle Valle, I went to see the convent of St. Justina, than which I never beheld one more magnificent. The church is an excellent piece of architecture, of Andrea Palladio, richly paved, with a stately cupola that covers the high altar enshrining the ashes of that saint. It is of pietra-commessa, consisting of flowers very naturally done. The choir is inlaid with several sorts of wood representing the holy history, finished with exceeding industry. At the far end, is that rare painting of St. Justina's Martyrdom, by Paolo Veronese; and a stone on which they told us divers primitive[Pg 205] Christians had been decapitated. In another place (to which leads a small cloister well painted) is a dry well, covered with a brass-work grate, wherein are the bones of divers martyrs. They show also the bones of St. Luke, in an old alabaster coffin; three of the Holy Innocents; and the bodies of St. Maximus and Prosdocimus.34 The dormitory above is exceedingly commodious and stately; but what most pleased me, was the old cloister so well painted with the legendary saints, mingled with many ancient inscriptions, and pieces of urns dug up, it seems, at the foundation of the church. Thus, having spent the day in rambles, I returned the next day to Venice.
So, walking over the Prato delle Valle, I went to check out the convent of St. Justina, which I've never seen a more magnificent place. The church is a stunning piece of architecture by Andrea Palladio, beautifully paved, with a grand dome that covers the high altar containing the ashes of the saint. It features pietra-commessa, made up of flowers that look very natural. The choir is inlaid with various kinds of wood depicting holy history, crafted with great skill. At the far end, there's that rare painting of St. Justina's Martyrdom by Paolo Veronese; and a stone where they told us several early Christians were decapitated. In another area (accessible via a small cloister that’s well painted) is a dry well, covered with a brass grate, that holds the bones of various martyrs. They also display the bones of St. Luke in an old alabaster coffin; three of the Holy Innocents; and the bodies of St. Maximus and Prosdocimus.34 The dormitory above is very comfortable and impressive; but what I liked most was the old cloister beautifully painted with legendary saints, mixed with many ancient inscriptions and pieces of urns that seem to have been dug up at the church's foundation. After spending the day exploring, I headed back to Venice the next day.
The arsenal is thought to be one of the best furnished in the world. We entered by a strong port, always guarded, and, ascending a spacious gallery, saw arms of back, breast, and head, for many thousands; in another were saddles; over them, ensigns taken from the Turks. Another hall is for the meeting of the Senate; passing a graff, are the smiths' forges, where they are continually employed on anchors and iron work. Near it is a well of fresh water, which they impute to two rhinoceros's horns which they say lie in it, and will preserve it from ever being empoisoned. Then we came to where the carpenters were building their magazines of oars, masts, etc., for an hundred galleys and ships, which have all their apparel and furniture near them. Then the foundry, where they cast ordnance; the forge is 450 paces long, and one of them has thirteen furnaces. There is one cannon, weighing 16,573 pounds, cast while Henry the Third dined, and put into a galley built, rigged, and fitted for launching within that time. They have also arms for twelve galeasses, which are vessels to row, of almost 150 feet long, and thirty wide, not counting prow or poop, and contain twenty-eight banks of oars, each seven men, and to carry 1,300 men, with three masts. In another, a magazine for fifty galleys, and place for some hundreds more. Here stands the Bucentaur, with a most ample deck, and so contrived that the slaves are not seen, having on the poop a throne for the Doge to sit, when he goes in triumph to espouse the Adriatic. Here is also a gallery of 200 yards long for cables, and above that a magazine of hemp. Opposite these, are the[Pg 206] saltpetre houses, and a large row of cells, or houses, to protect their galleys from the weather. Over the gate, as we go out, is a room full of great and small guns, some of which discharge six times at once. Then, there is a court full of cannon, bullets, chains, grapples, grenadoes, etc., and over that arms for 800,000 men, and by themselves arms for 400, taken from some that were in a plot against the state; together with weapons of offense and defense for sixty-two ships; thirty-two pieces of ordnance, on carriages taken from the Turks, and one prodigious mortar-piece. In a word, it is not to be reckoned up what this large place contains of this sort. There were now twenty-three galleys, and four galley-grossi, of 100 oars to a side. The whole arsenal is walled about, and may be in compass about three miles, with twelve towers for the watch, besides that the sea environs it. The workmen, who are ordinarily 500, march out in military order, and every evening receive their pay through a small hole in the gate where the governor lives.
The arsenal is considered one of the best-equipped in the world. We entered through a heavily guarded gate and, after climbing a large gallery, we saw equipment for thousands, including armor for the back, chest, and head; in another area, there were saddles with banners taken from the Turks above them. Another hall is used for Senate meetings; passing by a channel, we found the smiths' forges, where they are constantly working on anchors and ironwork. Close by is a fresh water well, believed to be protected from contamination by two rhinoceros horns said to be in it. Then we arrived at the carpenters who were building stores of oars, masts, and other supplies for a hundred galleys and ships, which all had their gear nearby. Next was the foundry, where they cast artillery; the forge stretches 450 paces long, with one section containing thirteen furnaces. One cannon, weighing 16,573 pounds, was cast while Henry the Third had dinner, and was placed on a galley that was built, rigged, and readied for launch during that time. They also have arms for twelve galeasses, rowed vessels that are almost 150 feet long and thirty wide, not including the prow or poop, capable of carrying 1,300 men with three masts and having twenty-eight banks of oars, each manned by seven people. In another area there is storage for fifty galleys and space for hundreds more. Here stands the Bucentaur, featuring a spacious deck designed so the slaves are not visible, with a throne on the poop for the Doge when he goes in triumph to marry the Adriatic Sea. There is also a 200-yard-long gallery for cables, and above it a storage area for hemp. Opposite these, there are the[Pg 206] saltpetre houses and a long row of cells to protect their galleys from the weather. Over the exit gate, there is a room filled with large and small cannons, some of which can fire six rounds at once. Then, there is a courtyard filled with cannons, bullets, chains, grapnels, grenades, etc., and above that are arms for 800,000 men, along with equipment for 400 taken from those who plotted against the state; plus weapons for offense and defense for sixty-two ships; thirty-two pieces of artillery on carriages taken from the Turks, and one enormous mortar. In short, it’s impossible to fully account for what this vast area contains. At that time, there were twenty-three galleys and four galley-grossi, each with 100 oars on either side. The entire arsenal is surrounded by walls and spans about three miles, featuring twelve watchtowers, in addition to being bordered by the sea. The workers, usually around 500, leave in military formation and receive their pay each evening through a small hole in the gate where the governor resides.
The next day, I saw a wretch executed, who had murdered his master, for which he had his head chopped off by an ax that slid down a frame of timber, between the two tall columns in St. Mark's piazza, at the sea-brink; the executioner striking on the ax with a beetle; and so the head fell off the block.
The next day, I saw a miserable man executed for murdering his master. He had his head chopped off by an ax that dropped down a wooden frame between the two tall columns in St. Mark's square, right by the sea; the executioner struck the ax with a mallet, and that’s how the head fell off the block.
Hence, by Gudala, we went to see Grimani's Palace, the portico whereof is excellent work. Indeed, the world cannot show a city of more stately buildings, considering the extent of it, all of square stone, and as chargeable in their foundations as superstructure, being all built on piles at an immense cost. We returned home by the church of St. Johanne and Paulo, before which is, in copper, the statue of Bartolomeo Colone, on horseback, double gilt, on a stately pedestal, the work of Andrea Verrochio, a Florentine. This is a very fine church, and has in it many rare altarpieces of the best masters, especially that on the left hand, of the Two Friars slain, which is of Titian.
So, we went to see Grimani's Palace through Gudala, and the portico there is an excellent piece of work. Truly, there isn’t a city anywhere with more impressive buildings, considering its size, all made of square stone and equally costly in their foundations as in their structure, built on piles at a huge expense. We headed home by the church of St. Johanne and Paulo, where there is a copper statue of Bartolomeo Colone on horseback, gilded and set on an impressive pedestal, created by Andrea Verrochio, a Florentine. This is a beautiful church and houses many rare altarpieces by the best masters, especially the one on the left side, of the Two Friars slain, which is by Titian.
The day after, being Sunday, I went over to St. George's to the ceremony of the schismatic Greeks, who are permitted to have their church, though they are at defiance with Rome. They allow no carved images, but[Pg 207] many painted, especially the story of their patron and his dragon. Their rites differ not much from the Latins, save that of communicating in both species, and distribution of the holy bread. We afterward fell into a dispute with a Candiot, concerning the procession of the Holy Ghost. The church is a noble fabric.
The next day, which was Sunday, I went to St. George's for the ceremony of the schismatic Greeks, who are allowed to have their church, even though they stand opposed to Rome. They don’t allow any carved images, but [Pg 207] they do have many painted ones, especially depicting the story of their patron and his dragon. Their rituals aren’t much different from those of the Latins, except for the way they communicate in both forms and distribute the holy bread. Afterwards, we got into a debate with a Candiot about the procession of the Holy Ghost. The church is an impressive building.
The church of St. Zachary is a Greek building, by Leo IV., Emperor, and has in it the bones of that prophet, with divers other saints. Near this, we visited St. Luke's, famous for the tomb of Aretin.
The church of St. Zachary is a Greek structure built by Emperor Leo IV, and it contains the bones of that prophet, along with various other saints. Nearby, we visited St. Luke's, which is known for the tomb of Aretin.
Tuesday, we visited several other churches, as Santa Maria, newly incrusted with marble on the outside, and adorned with porphyry, ophite, and Spartan stone. Near the altar and under the organ, are sculptures, that are said to be of the famous artist Praxiteles. To that of St. Paul I went purposely, to see the tomb of Titian. Then to St. John the Evangelist, where among other heroes, lies Andrea Baldarius, the inventor of oars applied to great vessels for fighting.
Tuesday, we visited several other churches, including Santa Maria, which has recently been covered in marble on the outside and decorated with porphyry, ophite, and Spartan stone. Near the altar and under the organ, there are sculptures that are said to be by the famous artist Praxiteles. I specifically went to St. Paul’s to see Titian’s tomb. Then we went to St. John the Evangelist, where, among other notable figures, lies Andrea Baldarius, the inventor of oars used in large fighting vessels.
We also saw St. Roche, the roof whereof is, with the school, or hall, of that rich confraternity, admirably painted by Tintoretto, especially the Crucifix in the sacristia. We saw also the church of St. Sebastian, and Carmelites' monastery.
We also visited St. Roche, whose roof, along with the school or hall of that wealthy brotherhood, is beautifully painted by Tintoretto, especially the Crucifix in the sacristy. We also saw the church of St. Sebastian and the Carmelites' monastery.
Next day, taking our gondola at St. Mark's, I passed to the island of St. George Maggiore, where is a Convent of Benedictines, and a well-built church of Andrea Palladio, the great architect. The pavement, cupola, choir, and pictures, very rich and sumptuous. The cloister has a fine garden to it, which is a rare thing at Venice, though this is an island a little distant from the city; it has also an olive orchard, all environed by the sea. The new cloister now building has a noble staircase paved with white and black marble.
The next day, we took our gondola from St. Mark's to the island of St. George Maggiore, where there’s a Benedictine convent and a beautifully designed church by Andrea Palladio, the renowned architect. The floor, dome, altar area, and paintings are all very lavish and impressive. The cloister features a lovely garden, which is quite rare in Venice, since this island is a bit away from the city; it also has an olive grove surrounded by the sea. The new cloister being built has a grand staircase made of white and black marble.
From hence, we visited St. Spirito, and St. Laurence, fair churches in several islands; but most remarkable is that of the Padri Olivetani, in St. Helen's island, for the rare paintings and carvings, with inlaid work, etc.
From here, we visited St. Spirito and St. Laurence, nice churches on different islands; but the most noteworthy is the one belonging to the Olivetani Fathers on St. Helen's Island, for its stunning paintings and carvings, along with inlaid work, etc.
The next morning, we went again to Padua, where, on the following day, we visited the market, which is plentifully furnished, and exceedingly cheap. Here we saw the great hall, built in a spacious piazza, and one of the most magnificent in Europe; its ascent is by steps a[Pg 208] good height, of a reddish marble polished, much used in these parts, and happily found not far off; it is almost 200 paces long, and forty in breadth, all covered with lead, without any support of columns. At the further end stands the bust, in white marble, of Titus Livius, the historian. In this town is the house wherein he was born, full of inscriptions, and pretty fair.
The next morning, we went back to Padua, where, the following day, we visited the market, which is well-stocked and very affordable. Here we saw the grand hall, built in a spacious square, and one of the most impressive in Europe; you access it by a set of steps made of polished reddish marble, commonly found in this area and not far away; it measures almost 200 paces long and 40 paces wide, all covered with lead, without any support from columns. At the far end stands the bust in white marble of Titus Livius, the historian. In this town is the house where he was born, adorned with inscriptions, and quite nice.
Near to the monument of Speron Speroni, is painted on the ceiling the celestial zodiac, and other astronomical figures; without side, there is a corridor, in manner of a balcony, of the same stone; and at the entry of each of the three gates is the head of some famous person, as Albert Eremitano, Julio Paullo (lawyers), and Peter Aponius. In the piazza is the Podesta's and Capitano Grande's Palace, well built; but above all, the Monte Pietà, the front whereof is of most excellent architecture. This is a foundation of which there is one in most of the cities in Italy, where there is a continual bank of money to assist the poorer sort, on any pawn, and at reasonable interest, together with magazines for deposit of goods, till redeemed.
Close to the monument of Speron Speroni, the ceiling features a celestial zodiac and other astronomical figures. Outside, there's a corridor that resembles a balcony, made of the same stone. At each of the three gate entrances, you'll find the head of a famous person, like Albert Eremitano, Julio Paullo (lawyers), and Peter Aponius. In the piazza, you'll see the well-built Podesta's Palace and the Capitano Grande's Palace, but most notably, the Monte Pietà, which has an excellent architectural front. This is a foundation found in most cities in Italy, where there's a constant supply of money to help the less fortunate, providing loans on pawns at reasonable interest rates, along with storage for goods until they are redeemed.
Hence, to the Schools of this flourishing and ancient University, especially for the study of physic and anatomy. They are fairly built in quadrangle, with cloisters beneath, and above with columns. Over the great gate are the arms of the Venetian State, and under the lion of St. Mark.
Hence, to the schools of this thriving and historic university, especially for studying medicine and anatomy. They are nicely constructed in a quadrangle, with cloisters below and columns above. Over the main gate are the arms of the Venetian State, and underneath is the lion of St. Mark.
Sic ingredere, ut teipso quotidie doctior; sic egredere ut indies Patriæ Christianæq; Republicæ utilior evadas; ita demùm Gymnasium à te felicitèr se ornatum existimabit.
So enter, so that you become more knowledgeable every day; so leave, that you may become more beneficial to the Christian nation and state each day; in this way, the Gymnasium will surely consider itself honored by you.
CIC.IX.
CIC.IX.
About the court walls, are carved in stone and painted the blazons of the Consuls of all the nations, that from time to time have had that charge and honor in the University, which at my being there was my worthy friend Dr. Rogers, who here took that degree.
Around the courtroom walls, the emblems of the Consuls from all the nations that have held that position and honor at the University are carved in stone and painted. At the time I was there, my esteemed friend Dr. Rogers held that title and earned that degree here.
The Schools for the lectures of the several sciences are above, but none of them comparable, or so much frequented, as the theater for anatomy, which is excellently contrived both for the dissector and spectators. I was this day invited to dinner, and in the afternoon (30th July) received my matricula, being resolved to spend[Pg 209] some months here at study, especially physic and anatomy, of both which there were now the most famous professors in Europe. My matricula contained a clause, that I, my goods, servants, and messengers, should be free from all tolls and reprises, and that we might come, pass, return, buy, or sell, without any toll, etc.
The schools for the various sciences are above, but none of them can compare or attract as many visitors as the anatomy theater, which is designed excellently for both the dissectors and the audience. I was invited to dinner today, and in the afternoon (30th July), I received my matricula, having decided to spend[Pg 209] a few months studying here, especially physics and anatomy, for which there are currently the most renowned professors in Europe. My matricula included a clause stating that I, my belongings, servants, and messengers would be exempt from all tolls and fees, and that we could come, go, return, buy, or sell without any charges, etc.
The next morning, I saw the garden of simples, rarely furnished with plants, and gave order to the gardener to make me a collection of them for an hortus hyemalis, by permission of the Cavalier Dr. Veslingius, then Prefect and Botanic Professor as well as of Anatomy.
The next morning, I saw the herb garden, which was hardly stocked with plants, and I instructed the gardener to gather a collection of them for a hortus hyemalis, with permission from Cavalier Dr. Veslingius, who was the Prefect and a Botany and Anatomy Professor at the time.
This morning, the Earl of Arundel,35 now in this city, a famous collector of paintings and antiquities, invited me to go with him to see the garden of Mantua, where, as one enters, stands a huge colosse of Hercules. From hence to a place where was a room covered with a noble cupola, built purposely for music; the fillings up, or cove, between the walls, were of urns and earthen pots, for the better sounding; it was also well painted. After dinner, we walked to the Palace of Foscari all' Arena, there remaining yet some appearances of an ancient theater, though serving now for a court only before the house. There were now kept in it two eagles, a crane, a Mauritanian sheep, a stag, and sundry fowls, as in a vivary.
This morning, the Earl of Arundel,35 now in this city, a well-known collector of paintings and antiques, invited me to join him in visiting the garden of Mantua, where, upon entering, there stands a massive statue of Hercules. From there, we proceeded to a room topped with a grand dome, specifically designed for music; the spaces between the walls were filled with urns and clay pots to enhance the acoustics, and it was also beautifully painted. After lunch, we took a stroll to the Palace of Foscari all' Arena, where traces of an ancient theater still remain, though it now serves only as a courtyard in front of the house. Inside, there were two eagles, a crane, a Mauritanian sheep, a stag, and various birds, much like a small zoo.
Three days after, I returned to Venice, and passed over to Murano, famous for the best glasses in the world, where having viewed their furnaces, and seen their work, I made a collection of divers curiosities and glasses, which I sent for England by long sea. It is the white flints they have from Pavia, which they pound and sift exceedingly small, and mix with ashes made of a seaweed brought out of Syria, and a white sand, that causes this manufacture to excel. The town is a Podestaria by itself, at some miles distant on the sea from Venice, and like it, built on several small islands. In this place, are excellent oysters, small and well tasted like our Colchester, and they were the first, as I remember, that I ever could eat; for I had naturally an aversion to them.
Three days later, I returned to Venice and went over to Murano, known for having the best glass in the world. After checking out their furnaces and witnessing their craftsmanship, I collected various curiosities and glasses, which I shipped to England via the long sea route. They use white flints from Pavia, which they grind and sift very finely, then mix with ash made from a type of seaweed imported from Syria, and a white sand. This unique combination is what makes their glass manufacturing so exceptional. The town operates on its own and is located a few miles out to sea from Venice, built on several small islands just like it. Here, you'll find excellent oysters that are small and delicious, similar to those from Colchester, and they were the first ones I remember being able to eat since I naturally had a dislike for them.
At our return to Venice, we met several gondolas full of Venetian ladies, who come thus far in fine weather to[Pg 210] take the air, with music and other refreshments. Besides that, Murano is itself a very nobly built town, and has divers noblemen's palaces in it, and handsome gardens.
Upon our return to Venice, we encountered several gondolas filled with Venetian ladies who come this far in nice weather to[Pg 210] enjoy the fresh air, along with music and other refreshments. Additionally, Murano is a beautifully constructed town, featuring several noblemen's palaces and lovely gardens.
In coming back, we saw the islands of St. Christopher and St. Michael, the last of which has a church enriched and incrusted with marbles and other architectonic ornaments, which the monks very courteously showed us. It was built and founded by Margaret Emiliana of Verona, a famous courtesan, who purchased a great estate, and by this foundation hoped to commute for her sins. We then rowed by the isles of St. Nicholas, whose church, with the monuments of the Justinian family, entertained us awhile; and then got home.
On our return, we spotted the islands of St. Christopher and St. Michael. The latter has a church beautifully decorated with marble and other architectural features, which the monks kindly showed us. It was built and founded by Margaret Emiliana of Verona, a well-known courtesan, who bought a large estate and hoped that this foundation would help atone for her sins. We then paddled past the isles of St. Nicholas, where the church, with monuments dedicated to the Justinian family, caught our interest for a while before heading home.
The next morning, Captain Powell, in whose ship I was to embark toward Turkey, invited me on board, lying about ten miles from Venice, where we had a dinner of English powdered beef and other good meat, with store of wine and great guns, as the manner is. After dinner, the Captain presented me with a stone he had lately brought from Grand Cairo, which he took from the mummy-pits, full of hieroglyphics; I drew it on paper with the true dimensions, and sent it in a letter to Mr. Henshaw to communicate to Father Kircher, who was then setting forth his great work "Obeliscus Pamphilius," where it is described, but without mentioning my name. The stone was afterward brought for me into England, and landed at Wapping, where, before I could hear of it, it was broken into several fragments, and utterly defaced, to my no small disappointment.
The next morning, Captain Powell, whose ship I was about to board for Turkey, invited me on board, anchored about ten miles from Venice, where we had a dinner of English powdered beef and other good meats, along with plenty of wine and big cannons, as was the custom. After dinner, the Captain gave me a stone he had recently retrieved from Grand Cairo, taken from the mummy pits and covered in hieroglyphics; I sketched it on paper to scale and sent it in a letter to Mr. Henshaw to share with Father Kircher, who was then working on his major project "Obeliscus Pamphilius," where it is mentioned, but without crediting me. The stone was later brought to England for me and landed at Wapping, where, before I could learn of it, it was broken into several pieces and completely damaged, which was a great disappointment for me.
The boatswain of the ship also gave me a hand and foot of a mummy, the nails whereof had been overlaid with thin plates of gold, and the whole body was perfect, when he brought it out of Egypt; but the avarice of the ship's crew broke it to pieces, and divided the body among them. He presented me also with two Egyptian idols, and some loaves of the bread which the Coptics use in the Holy Sacrament, with other curiosities.
The ship's bosun also helped me out with a hand and foot of a mummy, the nails of which had been covered with thin gold plates, and the whole body was intact when he brought it out of Egypt. But the greed of the crew shattered it, and they split the body among themselves. He also gave me two Egyptian idols and some loaves of bread that the Copts use in the Holy Sacrament, along with some other curiosities.
8th August, 1645. I had news from Padua of my election to be Syndicus Artistarum, which caused me, after two days idling in a country villa with the Consul of Venice, to hasten thither, that I might discharge myself of that honor, because it was not only chargeable, but would have hindered my progress, and they chose a[Pg 211] Dutch gentleman in my place, which did not well please my countrymen, who had labored not a little to do me the greatest honor a stranger is capable of in that University. Being freed from this impediment, and having taken leave of Dr. Janicius, a Polonian, who was going as physician in the Venetian galleys to Candia, I went again to Venice, and made a collection of several books and some toys. Three days after, I returned to Padua, where I studied hard till the arrival of Mr. Henshaw, Bramstone, and some other English gentlemen whom I had left at Rome, and who made me go back to Venice, where I spent some time in showing them what I had seen there.
8th August, 1645. I received news from Padua that I was elected as Syndicus Artistarum. This prompted me to leave the country villa, where I had been idling for two days with the Consul of Venice, and rush to Padua to take on this responsibility, as it not only came with costs but would have slowed my progress. They chose a Dutch gentleman in my place, which didn't sit well with my fellow countrymen, who had worked hard to honor me with the highest recognition a foreigner could receive at that university. Once I was free of this burden and after saying goodbye to Dr. Janicius, a Pole who was leaving as a physician on the Venetian galleys to Candia, I returned to Venice, where I collected several books and some souvenirs. Three days later, I went back to Padua, where I studied intensely until the arrival of Mr. Henshaw, Bramstone, and some other English gentlemen I had left in Rome, who insisted I return to Venice, where I spent some time showing them what I had experienced there.
26th September, 1645. My dear friend, and till now my constant fellow-traveler, Mr. Thicknesse, being obliged to return to England upon his particular concern, and who had served his Majesty in the wars, I accompanied him part of his way, and, on the 28th, returned to Venice.
26th September, 1645. My dear friend and constant travel companion, Mr. Thicknesse, had to return to England due to personal matters, and since he had served his Majesty in the wars, I accompanied him part of the way. On the 28th, I returned to Venice.
29th September, 1645. Michaelmas day, I went with my Lord Mowbray (eldest son to the Earl of Arundel, and a most worthy person) to see the collection of a noble Venetian, Signor Rugini. He has a stately palace, richly furnished with statues and heads of Roman Emperors, all placed in an ample room. In the next, was a cabinet of medals, both Latin and Greek, with divers curious shells and two fair pearls in two of them; but, above all, he abounded in things petrified, walnuts, eggs in which the yoke rattled, a pear, a piece of beef with the bones in it, a whole hedgehog, a plaice on a wooden trencher turned into stone and very perfect, charcoal, a morsel of cork yet retaining its levity, sponges, and a piece of taffety part rolled up, with innumerable more. In another cabinet, supported by twelve pillars of oriental agate, and railed about with crystal, he showed us several noble intáglios of agate, especially a head of Tiberius, a woman in a bath with her dog, some rare cornelians, onyxes, crystals, etc., in one of which was a drop of water not congealed, but moving up and down, when shaken; above all, a diamond which had a very fair ruby growing in it; divers pieces of amber, wherein were several insects, in particular one cut like a heart that contained in it a salamander without the least[Pg 212] defect, and many pieces of mosaic. The fabric of this cabinet was very ingenious, set thick with agates, turquoises, and other precious stones, in the midst of which was an antique of a dog in stone scratching his ear, very rarely cut, and comparable to the greatest curiosity I had ever seen of that kind for the accurateness of the work. The next chamber had a bedstead all inlaid with agates, crystals, cornelians, lazuli, etc., esteemed worth 16,000 crowns, but, for the most part, the bedsteads in Italy are of forged iron gilded, since it is impossible to keep the wooden ones from the cimices.
29th September, 1645. On Michaelmas day, I went with my Lord Mowbray (the eldest son of the Earl of Arundel, and a truly admirable person) to visit the collection of a noble Venetian, Signor Rugini. He has an impressive palace, lavishly furnished with statues and busts of Roman Emperors, all arranged in a spacious room. In the next room, there was a cabinet of medals, both Latin and Greek, along with various unusual shells and two beautiful pearls in two of them; but, above all, he had an abundance of petrified items: walnuts, eggs with a rattling yolk, a pear, a piece of beef with the bones still in it, a whole hedgehog, a plaice on a wooden plate turned to stone and very well-preserved, charcoal, a piece of cork still light, sponges, and a piece of taffeta partially rolled up, among countless more. In another cabinet, supported by twelve pillars of oriental agate and surrounded by crystal, he showed us several exquisite intaglios of agate, particularly a head of Tiberius, a woman in a bath with her dog, some rare cornelian stones, onyx, crystals, etc.; one of these had a droplet of water that wasn’t frozen but moved up and down when shaken; and most impressively, a diamond with a beautifully formed ruby inside it; various pieces of amber containing several insects, notably one shaped like a heart that held a perfectly formed salamander, as well as many pieces of mosaic. The design of this cabinet was extremely clever, embedded with agates, turquoises, and other precious stones, in the center of which was an ancient stone carving of a dog scratching its ear, very finely carved and comparable to the greatest curiosities I had ever seen of that kind for the precision of the work. The next room featured a bed frame entirely inlaid with agates, crystals, cornelian, lapis lazuli, etc., valued at 16,000 crowns; however, most bed frames in Italy are made from gilded forged iron, as it’s impossible to keep wooden ones free from bedbugs.
From hence, I returned to Padua, when that town was so infested with soldiers, that many houses were broken open in the night, some murders committed, and the nuns next our lodging disturbed, so as we were forced to be on our guard with pistols and other firearms to defend our doors; and indeed the students themselves take a barbarous liberty in the evenings when they go to their strumpets, to stop all that pass by the house where any of their companions in folly are with them. This custom they call chi vali, so as the streets are very dangerous, when the evenings grow dark; nor is it easy to reform this intolerable usage, where there are so many strangers of several nations.
From there, I went back to Padua, where the town was so overrun with soldiers that many houses were broken into at night, some murders happened, and the nuns next door were disturbed, forcing us to stand guard with pistols and other firearms to protect our doors. In fact, the students themselves act with reckless abandon in the evenings when they go to visit their girlfriends, blocking anyone who tries to pass by the house where their friends are with them. They call this custom chi vali, making the streets very dangerous once it gets dark; and it’s not easy to change this awful practice when there are so many foreigners from different countries around.
Using to drink my wine cooled with snow and ice, as the manner here is, I was so afflicted with an angina and sore throat, that it had almost cost me my life. After all the remedies Cavalier Veslingius, chief professor here, could apply, old Salvatico (that famous physician) being called, made me be cupped, and scarified in the back in four places; which began to give me breath, and consequently life; for I was in the utmost danger; but, God being merciful to me, I was after a fortnight abroad again, when, changing my lodging, I went over against Pozzo Pinto; where I bought for winter provision 3,000 weight of excellent grapes, and pressed my own wine, which proved incomparable liquor.
Using to drink my wine chilled with snow and ice, like they do around here, I ended up suffering from a severe sore throat and chest pain that nearly cost me my life. After trying all the remedies the chief professor, Cavalier Veslingius, could suggest, they called in old Salvatico, that renowned doctor, who had me cupped and had four incisions made on my back; this started to help me breathe and, in turn, helped me survive, as I was in great danger. Thankfully, after two weeks, I was back outside again. When I changed my place of stay, I went across to Pozzo Pinto, where I bought 3,000 pounds of amazing grapes for winter supplies and made my own wine, which turned out to be an incredible drink.
This was on 10th of October. Soon after came to visit me from Venice Mr. Henry Howard, grandchild to the Earl of Arundel, Mr. Bramstone, son to the Lord Chief Justice, and Mr. Henshaw, with whom I went to another part of the city to lodge near St. Catherine's over against the monastery of nuns, where we hired the whole house,[Pg 213] and lived very nobly. Here I learned to play on the theorb, taught by Signor Dominico Bassano, who had a daughter married to a doctor of laws, that played and sung to nine several instruments, with that skill and address as few masters in Italy exceeded her; she likewise composed divers excellent pieces: I had never seen any play on the Naples viol before. She presented me afterward with two recitativos of hers, both words and music.
This was on the 10th of October. Soon after, Mr. Henry Howard, the grandson of the Earl of Arundel, Mr. Bramstone, the son of the Lord Chief Justice, and Mr. Henshaw came to visit me from Venice. We went to another part of the city to stay near St. Catherine's, across from the monastery of nuns, where we rented the whole house, and lived very well. Here I learned to play the theorbo, taught by Signor Dominico Bassano, who had a daughter married to a doctor of laws. She played and sang with nine different instruments, with a skill and talent that few masters in Italy could match; she also composed several excellent pieces. I had never seen anyone play the viola from Naples before. She later gifted me two of her recitatives, both the lyrics and the music.
31st October, 1645. Being my birthday, the nuns of St. Catherine's sent me flowers of silkwork. We were very studious all this winter till Christmas, when on Twelfth-day, we invited all the English and Scots in town to a feast, which sunk our excellent wine considerably.
31st October, 1645. On my birthday, the nuns of St. Catherine's sent me silk flowers. We were very focused on our studies all winter until Christmas, when on Twelfth Night, we invited all the English and Scots in town to a feast, which significantly depleted our excellent wine.
1645-46. In January, Signor Molino was chosen Doge of Venice, but the extreme snow that fell, and the cold, hindered my going to see the solemnity, so as I stirred not from Padua till Shrovetide, when all the world repair to Venice, to see the folly and madness of the Carnival; the women, men, and persons of all conditions disguising themselves in antique dresses, with extravagant music and a thousand gambols, traversing the streets from house to house, all places being then accessible and free to enter. Abroad, they fling eggs filled with sweet water, but sometimes not over-sweet. They also have a barbarous custom of hunting bulls about the streets and piazzas, which is very dangerous, the passages being generally narrow. The youth of the several wards and parishes contend in other masteries and pastimes, so that it is impossible to recount the universal madness of this place during this time of license. The great banks are set up for those who will play at bassett; the comedians have liberty, and the operas are open; witty pasquils are thrown about, and the mountebanks have their stages at every corner. The diversions which chiefly took me up was three noble operas, where were excellent voices and music, the most celebrated of which was the famous Anna Rencia, whom we invited to a fish dinner after four days in Lent, when they had given over at the theater. Accompanied with an eunuch whom she brought with her, she entertained us with rare music, both of them singing to a harpsichord. It growing late, a gentleman of Venice[Pg 214] came for her, to show her the galleys, now ready to sail for Candia. This entertainment produced a second, given us by the English consul of the merchants, inviting us to his house, where he had the Genoese, the most celebrated bass in Italy, who was one of the late opera band. This diversion held us so late at night, that, conveying a gentlewoman who had supped with us to her gondola at the usual place of landing, we were shot at by two carbines from another gondola, in which were a noble Venetian and his courtesan unwilling to be disturbed, which made us run in and fetch other weapons, not knowing what the matter was, till we were informed of the danger we might incur by pursuing it farther.
1645-46. In January, Signor Molino was elected Doge of Venice, but the heavy snowfall and cold kept me from attending the ceremony, so I didn’t leave Padua until Shrovetide, when everyone heads to Venice to experience the craziness of the Carnival; men, women, and people of all backgrounds dressing up in old-fashioned costumes, accompanied by loud music and a variety of antics, wandering through the streets from house to house, with all places open and welcoming. Outside, they throw eggs filled with sweet water, though sometimes not very sweet. They also have a dangerous custom of chasing bulls through the streets and squares, which is risky since the pathways are usually narrow. The youth from different neighborhoods compete in various contests and games, making it impossible to list all the madness that takes over the place during this festive season. Large tables are set up for those wishing to play bassett; comedians are free to perform, and operas are running; clever jokes are tossed around, and street performers set up stages at every corner. The main activities that caught my attention were three amazing operas, featuring outstanding voices and music, the most notable being the famous Anna Rencia, whom we invited to a fish dinner after four days of Lent when the theater performances had stopped. Accompanied by an eunuch she brought along, she treated us to beautiful music, both of them singing to a harpsichord. As it got late, a Venetian gentleman came to escort her, showing her the galleys that were ready to sail for Candia. This event led to a second invitation from the English consul of the merchants, who welcomed us to his house, where he had the renowned Genoese bass from Italy, who was part of the recent opera troupe. We stayed so late that when we escorted a lady who had dined with us to her gondola at the usual landing spot, we were shot at by two carbines from another gondola, where a noble Venetian and his courtesan were trying to avoid disturbance, prompting us to rush back and grab our weapons, unaware of the trouble we might face by pursuing it further.
Three days after this, I took my leave of Venice, and went to Padua, to be present at the famous anatomy lecture, celebrated here with extraordinary apparatus, lasting almost a whole month. During this time, I saw a woman, a child, and a man dissected with all the manual operations of the chirurgeon on the human body. The one was performed by Cavalier Veslingius and Dr. Jo. Athelsteninus Leonœnas, of whom I purchased those rare tables of veins and nerves, and caused him to prepare a third of the lungs, liver, and nervi sexti par: with the gastric veins, which I sent into England, and afterward presented to the Royal Society, being the first of that kind that had been seen there, and, for aught I know, in the world, though afterward there were others. When the anatomy lectures, which were in the mornings, were ended, I went to see cures done in the hospitals; and certainly as there are the greatest helps and the most skillful physicians, so there are the most miserable and deplorable objects to exercise upon. Nor is there any, I should think, so powerful an argument against the vice reigning in this licentious country, as to be spectator of the misery these poor creatures undergo. They are indeed very carefully attended, and with extraordinary charity.
Three days later, I left Venice and headed to Padua to attend the famous anatomy lecture, known for its impressive equipment, which lasted almost a whole month. During this time, I witnessed the dissection of a woman, a child, and a man, with all the manual techniques of a surgeon applied to the human body. The dissections were carried out by Cavalier Veslingius and Dr. Jo. Athelsteninus Leonœnas, from whom I bought those rare illustrations of veins and nerves. I also had him prepare a sample of a third of the lungs, liver, and the six cranial nerves, along with the gastric veins, which I sent to England and later presented to the Royal Society. It was the first of its kind seen there, and, as far as I know, in the world, though others followed after. When the anatomy lectures, held in the mornings, finished, I went to observe treatments being done in the hospitals; and surely, while there are excellent resources and highly skilled physicians, there are also the most pitiful and distressing cases to work on. I believe there’s no stronger argument against the corruption present in this dissolute country than witnessing the suffering these poor individuals endure. They are indeed given careful attention and extraordinary compassion.
20th March, 1646. I returned to Venice, where I took leave of my friends.
20th March, 1646. I came back to Venice, where I said goodbye to my friends.
22d March, 1646. I was invited to excellent English potted venison, at Mr. Hobbson's, a worthy merchant.
22nd March, 1646. I was invited to some great English potted venison at Mr. Hobbson's, a respectable merchant.
23d March, 1646. I took my leave of the Patriarch and the Prince of Wirtemberg, and Monsieur Grotius (son of the learned Hugo) now going as commander to Candia;[Pg 215] and, in the afternoon, received of Vandervoort, my merchant, my bills of exchange of 300 ducats for my journey. He showed me his rare collection of Italian books, esteemed very curious, and of good value.
23rd March, 1646. I said goodbye to the Patriarch and the Prince of Württemberg, and Monsieur Grotius (son of the learned Hugo) who was heading as commander to Candia;[Pg 215] and in the afternoon, I received my bills of exchange for 300 ducats for my journey from Vandervoort, my merchant. He showed me his rare collection of Italian books, which were considered quite unique and valuable.
The next day, I was conducted to the Ghetto, where the Jews dwell together in as a tribe or ward, where I was present at a marriage. The bride was clad in white, sitting in a lofty chair, and covered with a white veil; then two old Rabbis joined them together, one of them holding a glass of wine in his hand, which, in the midst of the ceremony, pretending to deliver to the woman, he let fall, the breaking whereof was to signify the frailty of our nature, and that we must expect disasters and crosses amid all enjoyments. This done we had a fine banquet, and were brought into the bride-chamber, where the bed was dressed up with flowers, and the counterpane strewn in works. At this ceremony, we saw divers very beautiful Portuguese Jewesses, with whom we had some conversation.
The next day, I was taken to the Ghetto, where the Jews live together like a community, and I attended a wedding. The bride was dressed in white, sitting in a high chair and covered with a white veil. Then, two elderly Rabbis joined the couple, one of them holding a glass of wine, which he pretended to hand to the woman but let fall instead. The breaking of the glass was meant to symbolize the fragility of our nature and the idea that we should expect hardships and challenges even amidst happiness. After that, we had a wonderful banquet and were brought into the bridal chamber, where the bed was decorated with flowers and the coverlet was adorned with intricate designs. At this event, we saw several very beautiful Portuguese Jewish women, and we talked with them.
I went to the Spanish Ambassador with Bonifacio, his confessor, and obtained his pass to serve me in the Spanish dominions; without which I was not to travel, in this pompous form:
I went to the Spanish Ambassador with Bonifacio, his confessor, and got his pass to allow me to travel in the Spanish territories; without this, I couldn't travel, in this formal way:
"Don Caspar de Teves y Guzman, Marques de la Fuente, Señor
Le Lerena y Verazuza, Commendador de Colos, en la Orden de Sant
Yago, Alcalde Mayor perpetuo y Escrivano Mayor de la Ciudad
de Sevilla, Gentilhombre de la Camara de S. M. su Azimilero
Mayor, de su Consejo, su Embaxador extraordinario a los Principes
de Italia, y Alemania, y a esta serenissima Republica de
Venetia, etc. Haviendo de partir de esta Ciudad para La Milan
el Signior Cavallero Evelyn Ingles, con un Criado, mi han pedido
Passa-porte para los Estates de su M. Le he mandado dar
el presente, firmando de mi mano, y sellado con el sello de mis
armas, por el qual encargo a todos los menestros de S. M. antes
quien le presentase y a los que no lo son, supplico les dare passar
libramente sin permitir que se le haya vexation alguna antes
mandar le las favor para continuar su viage. Fecho en Venecia
a 24 del mes de Marzo del an'o 1646.
Mar. de la Fuentes, etc."
"Don Caspar de Teves y Guzman, Marquis de la Fuente, Lord of Le Lerena and Verazuza, Commander of Colos in the Order of Saint James, Perpetual Mayor and Chief Scribe of the City of Seville, Gentleman of the Chamber of His Majesty and his Chief Steward, a member of his Council, and his extraordinary Ambassador to the Princes of Italy and Germany, and to this most serene Republic of Venice, etc. As Sir Evelyn English is about to leave this City for Milan with a servant, they have requested a passport for their Majesty's estates. I have ordered that this document be issued, signed by my hand and sealed with my coat of arms, through which I instruct all ministers of His Majesty who may see it, and those who are not, to allow him to pass freely without permitting any vexation before granting him the favors necessary to continue his journey. Done in Venice on the 24th of March in the year 1646.
Mar. de la Fuentes, etc.
Having packed up my purchases of books, pictures, casts, treacle, etc. (the making an extraordinary ceremony whereof I had been curious to observe, for it is extremely pompous and worth seeing), I departed from Venice, accompanied with Mr. Waller (the celebrated[Pg 216] poet), now newly gotten out of England, after the Parliament had extremely worried him for attempting to put in execution the commission of Array, and for which the rest of his colleagues were hanged by the rebels.
Having packed up my purchases of books, pictures, casts, treacle, and so on (I had been curious to witness the elaborate ceremony of packing, since it’s very pompous and worth seeing), I left Venice, accompanied by Mr. Waller (the famous poet), who had just returned from England after Parliament had really given him a hard time for trying to carry out the commission of Array, which got the rest of his colleagues hanged by the rebels.
The next day, I took leave of my comrades at Padua, and receiving some directions from Dr. Salvatico as to the care of my health, I prepared for my journey toward Milan.
The next day, I said goodbye to my friends in Padua, and after getting some advice from Dr. Salvatico on how to take care of my health, I got ready for my trip to Milan.
It was Easter-Monday that I was invited to breakfast at the Earl of Arundel's. I took my leave of him in his bed, where I left that great and excellent man in tears on some private discourse of crosses that had befallen his illustrious family, particularly the undutifulness of his grandson Philip turning Dominican Friar (since Cardinal of Norfolk), and the misery of his country now embroiled in civil war. He caused his gentleman to give me directions, all written with his own hand, what curiosities I should inquire after in my journey; and, so enjoining me to write sometimes to him, I departed. There stayed for me below, Mr. Henry Howard (afterward Duke of Norfolk), Mr. J. Digby, son of Sir Kenelm Digby, and other gentlemen, who conducted me to the coach.
It was Easter Monday when I was invited to breakfast at the Earl of Arundel's. I said goodbye to him in his bed, where I left that great and wonderful man in tears over some private conversation about the hardships his distinguished family had faced, especially the disappointment of his grandson Philip becoming a Dominican Friar (now Cardinal of Norfolk) and the suffering of his country now caught up in civil war. He had his gentleman provide me with written directions, all in his own handwriting, about what curiosities I should look for on my journey; and after asking me to write to him occasionally, I took my leave. Waiting for me downstairs were Mr. Henry Howard (later Duke of Norfolk), Mr. J. Digby, son of Sir Kenelm Digby, and other gentlemen, who escorted me to the coach.
The famous lapidaries of Venice for false stones and pastes, so as to emulate the best diamonds, rubies, etc., were Marco Terrasso and Gilbert.
The famous jewelers of Venice known for creating fake stones and glass to imitate the finest diamonds, rubies, and so on, were Marco Terrasso and Gilbert.
An account of what Bills of Exchange I took up at Venice since my coming from Rome, till my departure from Padua:
An account of the Bills of Exchange I handled in Venice since I arrived from Rome, until my departure from Padua:
11th Aug., 1645 | 200 |
7th Sept. | 135 |
1st Oct. | 100 |
15th Jan., 1646 | 100 |
23d April | 300 |
835 Ducati di Banco. |
In company, then, with Mr. Waller, one Captain Wray (son of Sir Christopher, whose father had been in arms against his Majesty, and therefore by no means welcome to us), with Mr. Abdy, a modest and learned man, we got that night to Vicenza, passing by the Euganéan hills, celebrated for the prospects and furniture of rare simples, which we found growing about them. The ways were something deep, the whole country flat and even as a[Pg 217] bowling-green. The common fields lie square, and are orderly planted with fruit trees, which the vines run and embrace, for many miles, with delicious streams creeping along the ranges.
In the company of Mr. Waller, Captain Wray (the son of Sir Christopher, whose father had fought against the King and was therefore not welcomed by us), and Mr. Abdy, a humble and knowledgeable man, we arrived that night in Vicenza, passing through the Euganean hills, known for their views and the variety of rare plants that we discovered growing there. The roads were somewhat uneven, and the entire region was flat and smooth like a bowling green. The common fields are square and neatly organized with fruit trees, which the vines stretch and wrap around, for many miles, with lovely streams flowing along the landscape.
Vicenza is a city in the Marquisate of Treviso, yet appertaining to the Venetians, full of gentlemen and splendid palaces, to which the famous Palladio, born here, has exceedingly contributed, having been the architect. Most conspicuous is the Hall of Justice; it has a tower of excellent work; the lower pillars are of the first order; those in the three upper corridors are Doric; under them, are shops in a spacious piazza. The hall was built in imitation of that at Padua, but of a nobler design, à la moderne. The next morning, we visited the theater, as being of that kind the most perfect now standing, and built by Palladio, in exact imitation of the ancient Romans, and capable of containing 5,000 spectators. The scene, which is all of stone, represents an imperial city, the order Corinthian, decorated with statues. Over the Scenario is inscribed: "Virtuti ac Genio Olympior: Academia Theatrum hoc à fundamentis erexit Palladio Architect: 1584." The scene declines eleven feet, the soffito painted with clouds. To this there joins a spacious hall for solemn days to ballot in, and a second for the Academics. In the piazza is also the podesta, or governor's house, the facciata being of the Corinthian order, very noble. The piazza itself is so large as to be capable of jousts and tournaments, the nobility of this city being exceedingly addicted to this knight-errantry, and other martial diversions. In this place are two pillars in imitation of those at St. Mark's at Venice, bearing one of them a winged lion, the other the statue of St. John the Baptist.
Vicenza is a city in the Marquisate of Treviso, yet it belongs to the Venetians, filled with gentlemen and magnificent palaces. The renowned Palladio, who was born here, greatly contributed as the architect. The most impressive structure is the Hall of Justice; it has a beautifully crafted tower, the lower pillars are of the first order, and the three upper corridors feature Doric columns. Below them, there are shops in a spacious piazza. The hall was modeled after the one in Padua but has a more refined design, à la moderne. The next morning, we visited the theater, which is the most perfect of its kind still standing today, built by Palladio in precise imitation of the ancient Romans and capable of seating 5,000 spectators. The scene, made entirely of stone, depicts an imperial city in the Corinthian style, adorned with statues. Above the stage, it reads: "Virtuti ac Genio Olympior: Academia Theatrum hoc à fundamentis erexit Palladio Architect: 1584." The stage slopes down eleven feet, with the soffito painted to look like clouds. Attached to this is a large hall for formal events and another for the Academics. In the piazza, there’s also the podesta, or governor's house, with a very noble Corinthian façade. The piazza itself is so large that it can accommodate jousts and tournaments, as the nobility of this city is very fond of such knightly adventures and other martial activities. Here stand two pillars modeled after those at St. Mark's in Venice, one bearing a winged lion and the other featuring a statue of St. John the Baptist.
In a word, this sweet town has more well-built palaces than any of its dimensions in all Italy, besides a number begun and not yet finished (but of stately design) by reason of the domestic dissensions between them and those of Brescia, fomented by the sage Venetians, lest by combining, they might think of recovering their ancient liberty. For this reason, also, are permitted those disorders and insolences committed at Padua among the youth of these two territories. It is no dishonor in this country to be some generations in finishing their palaces,[Pg 218] that without exhausting themselves by a vast expense at once, they may at last erect a sumptuous pile. Count Oleine's Palace is near perfected in this manner. Count Ulmarini is more famous for his gardens, being without the walls, especially his cedrario, or conserve of oranges, eleven score of my paces long, set in order and ranges, making a canopy all the way by their intermixing branches for more than 200 of my single paces, and which being full of fruit and blossoms, was a most delicious sight. In the middle of this garden, was a cupola made of wire, supported by slender pillars of brick, so closely covered with ivy, both without and within, that nothing was to be perceived but green; between the arches there dangled festoons of the same. Here is likewise a most inextricable labyrinth.
In short, this charming town has more well-built palaces than anywhere else of its size in all of Italy, along with several that are started but not yet finished (but are grand in design) due to the domestic conflicts between its residents and those from Brescia, stirred up by the wise Venetians, as they feared that if they united, they might try to reclaim their former freedom. Because of this, the chaos and recklessness among the youth from these two regions in Padua are allowed. It’s not considered shameful here to take several generations to complete their palaces, allowing them to avoid exhausting their finances all at once, so they can ultimately build a magnificent structure. Count Oleine's Palace is nearly completed in this way. Count Ulmarini is more renowned for his gardens, which are outside the walls, especially his orange grove, which is 220 paces long, arranged in neat rows, creating a canopy as the branches weave together for over 200 of my paces, and which, full of fruit and blossoms, is a delightful sight. In the center of this garden, there’s a dome made of wire, held up by thin brick columns, so thoroughly covered with ivy inside and out that all you can see is green; between the arches, there are garlands of the same. There is also a very intricate labyrinth here.
I had in this town recommendation to a very civil and ingenious apothecary, called Angelico, who had a pretty collection of paintings. I would fain have visited a palace, called the Rotunda, which was a mile out of town, belonging to Count Martio Capra; but one of our companions hastening to be gone, and little minding anything save drinking and folly, caused us to take coach sooner than we should have done.
I had a recommendation in this town for a really polite and clever apothecary named Angelico, who had a nice collection of paintings. I wanted to visit a palace called the Rotunda, which was a mile outside of town and belonged to Count Martio Capra; however, one of our companions was eager to leave and only cared about drinking and having fun, which made us take the coach earlier than we should have.
A little from the town, we passed the Campo Martio, set out in imitation of ancient Rome, wherein the nobles exercised their horses, and the ladies make the Corso; it is entered by a stately triumphal arch, the invention of Palladio.
A short distance from the town, we passed the Campo Martio, designed to mimic ancient Rome, where the nobles rode their horses and the ladies stroll during the Corso; it is accessed through an impressive triumphal arch, created by Palladio.
Being now set out for Verona, about midway we dined at Ostaria Nova, and came late to our resting-place, which was the Cavaletto, just over the monument of the Scalageri,36 formerly princes of Verona, adorned with many devices in stone of ladders, alluding to the name.
Being now on our way to Verona, we had lunch at Ostaria Nova, and arrived late at our lodging, which was the Cavaletto, right across from the Scalageri monument,36 former princes of Verona, decorated with various stone carvings of ladders, reflecting their name.
Early next morning, we went about the city, which is built on the gentle declivity, and bottom of a hill, environed in part with some considerable mountains and downs of fine grass, like some places in the south of England, and, on the other side, having the rich plain where Caius Marius overthrew the Cimbrians. The city is divided in the midst by the river Adige, over which are divers stately bridges, and on its banks are many goodly palaces, whereof one is well painted in chiaro-oscuro[Pg 219] on the outside, as are divers in this dry climate of Italy.
Early the next morning, we explored the city, which is built on a gentle slope at the bottom of a hill, surrounded partly by significant mountains and lush grassy hills, similar to some areas in southern England. On the other side lies the fertile plain where Caius Marius defeated the Cimbrians. The city is split in the middle by the Adige River, which has several impressive bridges, and along its banks stand many beautiful palaces, one of which is well painted in chiaro-oscuro[Pg 219] on the outside, as are several others in this dry climate of Italy.
The first thing that engaged our attention and wonder, too, was the amphitheater, which is the most entire of ancient remains now extant. The inhabitants call it the Arena: it has two porticos, one within the other, and is thirty-four rods long, twenty-two in breadth, with forty-two ranks of stone benches, or seats, which reach to the top. The vastness of the marble stones is stupendous. "L. V. Flaminius, Consul. anno. urb. con. liii." This I esteem to be one of the noblest antiquities in Europe, it is so vast and entire, having escaped the ruins of so many other public buildings for above 1,400 years.
The first thing that caught our attention and amazement was the amphitheater, which is the best-preserved ancient structure still standing. The locals refer to it as the Venue: it has two porticos, one inside the other, and is thirty-four rods long, twenty-two rods wide, with forty-two rows of stone benches that go all the way to the top. The sheer size of the marble stones is impressive. "L. V. Flaminius, Consul. anno. urb. con. liiii." I consider this to be one of the finest ancient sites in Europe; it’s so enormous and well-preserved, having survived the decay of many other public buildings for over 1,400 years.
There are other arches, as that of the victory of Marius; temples, aqueducts, etc., showing still considerable remains in several places of the town, and how magnificent it has formerly been. It has three strong castles and a large and noble wall. Indeed, the whole city is bravely built, especially the Senate house, where we saw those celebrated statues of Cornelius Nepos, Æmilius Marcus, Plinius, and Vitruvius, all having honored Verona by their birth; and, of later date, Julius Cæsar Scaliger, that prodigy of learning.
There are other arches, like the one commemorating Marius's victory; temples, aqueducts, and more, showing significant remains in various parts of the town, reflecting how magnificent it once was. It has three strong castles and a large, impressive wall. In fact, the entire city is well-built, especially the Senate house, where we saw those famous statues of Cornelius Nepos, Æmilius Marcus, Pliny, and Vitruvius, all of whom honored Verona by being born there; and more recently, Julius Caesar Scaliger, a remarkable scholar.
In the evening we saw the garden of Count Giusti's villa where are walks cut out of the main rock, from whence we had a pleasant prospect of Mantua and Parma, though at great distance. At the entrance of this garden, grows the goodliest cypress, I fancy, in Europe, cut in a pyramid; it is a prodigious tree both for breadth and height, entirely covered, and thick to the base.
In the evening, we visited Count Giusti's villa garden, where paths are carved into the main rock, giving us a lovely view of Mantua and Parma, even though they were quite far away. At the entrance of this garden stands what I think is the most impressive cypress tree in Europe, shaped like a pyramid; it’s an enormous tree, both wide and tall, completely covered and thick at the base.
Dr. Cortone, a civilian, showed us, among other rarities, a St. Dorothea, of Raphael. We could not see the rare drawings, especially of Parmensis, belonging to Dr. Marcello, another advocate, on account of his absence.
Dr. Cortone, a civilian, showed us, among other rarities, a St. Dorothea by Raphael. We couldn't see the rare drawings, especially those by Parmensis, that belonged to Dr. Marcello, another advocate, because he wasn't present.
Verona deserved all those elogies Scaliger has honored it with; for in my opinion, the situation is the most delightful I ever saw, it is so sweetly mixed with rising ground and valleys, so elegantly planted with trees on which Bacchus seems riding as it were in triumph every autumn, for the vines reach from tree to tree; here, of all places I have seen in Italy, would I fix a residence. Well has that learned man given it the name of the very eye of the world:[Pg 220]
Verona deserves all the praise Scaliger has given it; in my opinion, the scenery is the most beautiful I’ve ever seen. It’s so charmingly mixed with hills and valleys, so elegantly filled with trees that Bacchus seems to ride in triumph every autumn, as the vines connect from tree to tree. Here, of all the places I've seen in Italy, is where I would choose to live. That knowledgeable man has rightly named it the very eye of the world:[Pg 220]
Flos Urbium, charming flower of crows, How many there are, will be, or have been, Verona.
The next morning we traveled over the downs where Marius fought and fancied ourselves about Winchester, and the country toward Dorsetshire. We dined at an inn called Cavalli Caschieri, near Peschiera, a very strong fort of the Venetian Republic, and near the Lago di Garda, which disembogues into that of Mantua, near forty miles in length, highly spoken of by my Lord Arundel to me, as the most pleasant spot in Italy, for which reason I observed it with the more diligence, alighting out of the coach, and going up to a grove of cypresses growing about a gentleman's country-house, from whence indeed it presents a most surprising prospect. The hills and gentle risings about it produce oranges, citrons, olives, figs, and other tempting fruits, and the waters abound in excellent fish, especially trouts. In the middle of this lake stands Sermonea, on an island; here Captain Wray bought a pretty nag of the master of our inn where we dined, for eight pistoles, which his wife, our hostess, was so unwilling to part with, that she did nothing but kiss and weep and hang about the horse's neck, till the captain rode away.
The next morning we traveled over the hills where Marius fought and imagined ourselves near Winchester, and towards Dorsetshire. We had lunch at an inn called Cavalli Caschieri, close to Peschiera, a strong fort of the Venetian Republic, and near Lake Garda, which flows into that of Mantua, about forty miles long, highly praised by my Lord Arundel to me as the most pleasant place in Italy. For that reason, I paid extra attention to it, getting out of the coach and walking over to a grove of cypress trees surrounding a gentleman's country house, from where it offers a stunning view. The hills and gentle slopes around it produce oranges, citrons, olives, figs, and other tempting fruits, and the waters are full of excellent fish, especially trout. In the middle of this lake stands Sermonea on an island; here Captain Wray bought a nice horse from the innkeeper where we lunched for eight pistoles, which his wife, our hostess, was so reluctant to part with that she just kept kissing and crying, hanging around the horse's neck until the captain rode away.
We came this evening to Brescia, which next morning we traversed, according to our custom, in search of antiquities and new sights. Here, I purchased of old Lazarino Cominazzo my fine carbine, which cost me nine pistoles, this city being famous for these firearms, and that workman, Jo. Bap. Franco, the best esteemed. The city consists most in artists, every shop abounding in guns, swords, armorers, etc. Most of the workmen come out of Germany. It stands in a fertile plain, yet the castle is built on a hill. The streets abound in fair fountains. The Torre della Pallada is of a noble Tuscan order, and the Senate house is inferior to few. The piazza is but indifferent; some of the houses arched as at Padua. The Cathedral was under repair. We would from hence have visited Parma, Piacenza, Mantua, etc.; but the banditti and other dangerous parties being abroad, committing many enormities, we were contented with a Pisgah sight of them.
We arrived in Brescia this evening, and the next morning, we explored the city, as we usually do, looking for antiques and new sights. I bought a nice carbine from the old Lazarino Cominazzo for nine pistoles, as this city is known for its firearms, and Jo. Bap. Franco is highly regarded as a craftsman. The city is mostly filled with artists, and every shop is stocked with guns, swords, armor, and so on. Most of the craftsmen come from Germany. It’s located in a fertile plain, but the castle is positioned on a hill. The streets are filled with beautiful fountains. The Torre della Pallada is of a distinguished Tuscan style, and the Senate house is impressive. The piazza is just average; some of the buildings have arches like those in Padua. The Cathedral was being repaired. We considered visiting Parma, Piacenza, Mantua, and others from here; however, due to the bandits and other dangerous groups causing havoc, we were satisfied with just a distant view of them.
We dined next day, at Ursa Vecchia, and, after din[Pg 221]ner, passed by an exceeding strong fort of the Venetians, called Ursa Nova, on their frontier. Then by the river Oglio, and so by Sonano, where we enter the Spanish dominions, and that night arrived at Crema, which belongs to Venice, and is well defended. The Podesta's Palace is finely built, and so is the Duomo, or Cathedral, and the tower to it, with an ample piazza.
We had dinner the next day at Ursa Vecchia, and after dinner, we passed by a very strong Venetian fort called Ursa Nova on their border. Then we went along the Oglio River and passed through Sonano, where we entered Spanish territory. That night, we arrived in Crema, which belongs to Venice and is well defended. The Podesta's Palace is beautifully built, as is the Cathedral, along with its tower, which overlooks a spacious plaza.
Early next day, after four miles' riding, we entered into the State of Milan, and passed by Lodi, a great city famous for cheese, little short of the best Parmeggiano. We dined at Marignano, ten miles before coming to Milan, where we met half a dozen suspicious cavaliers, who yet did us no harm. Then, passing as through a continual garden, we went on with exceeding pleasure; for it is the Paradise of Lombardy, the highways as even and straight as a line, the fields to a vast extent planted with fruit about the inclosures, vines to every tree at equal distances, and watered with frequent streams. There was likewise much corn, and olives in abundance. At approach of the city, some of our company, in dread of the Inquisition (severer here than in all Spain), thought of throwing away some Protestant books and papers. We arrived about three in the afternoon, when the officers searched us thoroughly for prohibited goods; but, finding we were only gentlemen travelers, dismissed us for a small reward, and we went quietly to our inn, the Three Kings, where, for that day, we refreshed ourselves, as we had need. The next morning, we delivered our letters of recommendation to the learned and courteous Ferrarius, a Doctor of the Ambrosian College, who conducted us to all the remarkable places of the town, the first of which was the famous Cathedral. We entered by a portico, so little inferior to that of Rome that, when it is finished, it will be hard to say which is the fairest; the materials are all of white and black marble, with columns of great height, of Egyptian granite. The outside of the church is so full of sculpture, that you may number 4,000 statues, all of white marble, among which that of St. Bartholomew is esteemed a masterpiece. The church is very spacious, almost as long as St. Peter's at Rome, but not so large. About the choir, the sacred Story is finely sculptured, in snow-white marble, nor know I where it is exceeded. About the body of the church[Pg 222] are the miracles of St. Charles Borromeo, and in the vault beneath is his body before the high altar, grated, and inclosed, in one of the largest crystals in Europe. To this also belongs a rich treasure. The cupola is all of marble within and without, and even covered with great planks of marble, in the Gothic design. The windows are most beautifully painted. Here are two very fair and excellent organs. The fabric is erected in the midst of a fair piazza, and in the center of the city.
Early the next day, after riding four miles, we entered the State of Milan and passed through Lodi, a big city famous for cheese, almost as good as the best Parmigiano. We had lunch at Marignano, ten miles before arriving in Milan, where we encountered a handful of suspicious gentlemen, but they did us no harm. Then, traveling through what felt like a continuous garden, we continued with great pleasure; for it is the Paradise of Lombardy, with roads as smooth and straight as a line, fields widely planted with fruit around the enclosures, vines evenly spaced among the trees, and plenty of streams for irrigation. There were also lots of grain and plenty of olives. As we neared the city, some in our group, fearing the Inquisition (which is stricter here than anywhere in Spain), contemplated discarding some Protestant books and papers. We arrived around three in the afternoon, when the officials thoroughly searched us for banned items; but finding that we were just gentlemen travelers, they let us go for a small fee, and we quietly went to our inn, the Three Kings Day, where we refreshed ourselves for the day, as we needed. The next morning, we delivered our letters of recommendation to the learned and courteous Ferrarius, a doctor from the Ambrosian College, who showed us around all the notable sites in the city, starting with the famous Cathedral. We entered through a portico that is only slightly less impressive than that of Rome, and when it’s finished, it’ll be hard to decide which is more beautiful; the materials are all white and black marble, with very tall columns made of Egyptian granite. The outside of the church is so filled with sculptures that you could count 4,000 statues, all made of white marble, among which the statue of St. Bartholomew is regarded as a masterpiece. The church is quite spacious, nearly as long as St. Peter's in Rome, but not as large. Around the choir, the sacred Story is finely carved in bright white marble; I can't say I've seen any place that exceeds it. Around the body of the church[Pg 222] are the miracles of St. Charles Borromeo, and beneath, in the vault, lies his body before the high altar, enclosed and graced, in one of the largest crystals in Europe. This also holds a rich treasure. The dome is entirely made of marble both inside and out, and even covered with large marble planks, in a Gothic style. The windows are beautifully painted. There are two very beautiful and excellent organs here. The structure stands in the center of a lovely piazza and right in the heart of the city.
Hence, we went to the Palace of the Archbishop, which is a quadrangle, the architecture of Theobaldi, who designed much for Philip II. in the Escurial, and has built much in Milan. Hence, into the Governor's Palace, who was Constable of Castile. Tempted by the glorious tapestries and pictures, I adventured so far alone, that peeping into a chamber where the great man was under the barber's hands, he sent one of his negroes (a slave) to know what I was. I made the best excuse I could, and that I was only admiring the pictures, which he returning and telling his lord, I heard the Governor reply that I was a spy; on which I retired with all the speed I could, passed the guard of Swiss, got into the street, and in a moment to my company, who were gone to the Jesuits' Church, which in truth is a noble structure, the front especially, after the modern. After dinner, we were conducted to St. Celso, a church of rare architecture, built by Bramante; the carvings of the marble facciata are by Annibal Fontana, whom they esteem at Milan equal to the best of the ancients. In a room joining to the church, is a marble Madonna, like a Colosse, of the same sculptor's work, which they will not expose to the air. There are two sacristias, in one of which is a fine Virgin, of Leonardo da Vinci; in the other is one of Raphael d'Urbino, a piece which all the world admires. The Sacristan showed us a world of rich plate, jewels, and embroidered copes, which are kept in presses.
So, we headed to the Archbishop's Palace, which is a square building designed by Theobaldi, who created much for Philip II at the Escurial and has done a lot in Milan. From there, we went to the Governor's Palace, where the Constable of Castile was. Drawn in by the stunning tapestries and paintings, I wandered in alone and peeked into a room where the important man was getting a shave. He sent one of his servants to ask who I was. I came up with the best excuse I could, saying I was just admiring the paintings. When the servant reported back, I heard the Governor say I must be a spy, so I quickly left, got past the Swiss guard, and made my way to the street to rejoin my friends, who had gone to the Jesuits' Church, which is, honestly, an impressive building, especially its modern façade. After lunch, we were taken to St. Celso, a church with remarkable architecture built by Bramante; the marble carvings on the façade are by Annibal Fontana, who is highly regarded in Milan, on par with the greatest ancient artists. In a room next to the church, there’s a marble Madonna, similar to a Colosse, also by that sculptor, which they don’t expose to the elements. There are two sacristies—one features a beautiful Virgin by Leonardo da Vinci, and the other contains a piece by Raphael d’Urbino, which is admired worldwide. The sacristan showed us a collection of rich silverware, jewels, and embroidered church vestments, all kept in presses.
Next, we went to see the Great Hospital, a quadrangular cloister of a vast compass, a truly royal fabric, with an annual endowment of 50,000 crowns of gold. There is in the middle of it a cross building for the sick, and, just under it, an altar so placed as to be seen in all places of the Infirmary.[Pg 223]
Next, we went to see the Great Hospital, a large square building that is truly impressive, with an annual funding of 50,000 gold crowns. In the center, there's a cross-shaped area for the sick, and right underneath it, an altar positioned so that it can be seen from everywhere in the Infirmary.[Pg 223]
There are divers colleges built in this quarter, richly provided for by the same Borromeo and his nephew, the last Cardinal Frederico, some not yet finished, but of excellent design.
There are several colleges built in this area, generously funded by Borromeo and his nephew, the recent Cardinal Frederico. Some of these colleges are not finished yet, but they have great design.
In St. Eustorgio, they tell us, formerly lay the bodies of the three Magi, since translated to Cologne in Germany; they, however, preserve the tomb, which is a square stone, on which is engraven a star, and, under it, "Sepulchrum trium Magorum."
In St. Eustorgio, it is said that the remains of the three Magi were once buried here, but have since been moved to Cologne in Germany. They still keep the tomb, which is a square stone engraved with a star and the inscription, "Sepulchrum trium Magorum."
Passing by St. Laurence, we saw sixteen columns of marble, and the ruins of a Temple of Hercules, with this inscription yet standing:
Passing by St. Laurence, we saw sixteen marble columns and the ruins of a Temple of Hercules, with this inscription still intact:
We concluded this day's wandering at the Monastery of Madonna delle Grazie, and in the refectory admired that celebrated Cœna Domini of Leonardo da Vinci, which takes up the entire wall at the end, and is the same that the great virtuoso, Francis I., of France, was so enamored of, that he consulted to remove the whole wall by binding it about with ribs of iron and timber, to convey it into France. It is indeed one of the rarest paintings that was ever executed by Leonardo, who was long in the service of that Prince, and so dear to him that the King, coming to visit him in his old age and sickness, he expired in his arms. But this incomparable piece is now exceedingly impaired.
We wrapped up our day’s exploration at the Monastery of Madonna delle Grazie, and in the dining hall, we admired the famous Cœna Domini by Leonardo da Vinci, which covers the entire wall at the end. This is the same artwork that the great virtuoso, Francis I of France, loved so much that he considered removing the whole wall by reinforcing it with iron and wood to take it to France. It truly is one of the rarest paintings ever created by Leonardo, who spent many years in service to that King. He was so dear to Francis that when the King visited him in his old age and illness, Leonardo passed away in his arms. However, this exceptional piece is now severely damaged.
Early next morning came the learned Dr. Ferrarius to visit us, and took us in his coach to see the Ambrosian Library, where Cardinal Fred Borromeo has expended so vast a sum on this building, and in furnishing with curiosities, especially paintings and drawings of inestimable value among painters. It is a school fit to make the ablest artists. There are many rare things of Hans Breugel, and among them the Four Elements. In this room, stands the glorious [boasting] inscription of Cavaliero Galeazzo Arconati, valuing his gift to the library of several drawings by Da Vinci; but these we could not see, the keeper of them being out of town, and he always carrying the keys with him; but my Lord Marshal, who had seen them, told me all but one book are small that[Pg 224] a huge folio contained 400 leaves full of scratches of Indians, etc. But whereas the inscription pretends that our King Charles had offered £1,000 for them,—the truth is, and my Lord himself told me, that it was he who treated with Galeazzo for himself, in the name and by permission of the King, and that the Duke of Feria, who was then Governor, should make the bargain; but my Lord, having seen them since, did not think them of so much worth.
Early the next morning, the knowledgeable Dr. Ferrarius came to visit us and took us in his carriage to see the Ambrosian Library, where Cardinal Fred Borromeo has spent a huge amount on this building and filled it with curiosities, especially valuable paintings and drawings from great artists. It’s a place that could truly nurture the most talented artists. There are many rare works by Hans Breugel, including the Four Elements. In this room, there's the proud inscription from Cavaliero Galeazzo Arconati, highlighting his donation to the library of several drawings by Da Vinci; however, we couldn't see them since the keeper was out of town, and he always took the keys with him. My Lord Marshal, who had seen them, told me that all but one book are small, but a huge folio contained 400 pages filled with sketches of Indians, etc. While the inscription claims that our King Charles offered £1,000 for them, the reality is, as my Lord himself told me, that he negotiated with Galeazzo on his own behalf, with the King's approval, and that the Duke of Feria, who was the Governor at the time, should finalize the deal. However, my Lord, having seen them later, did not think they were worth that much.
In the great room, where is a goodly library, on the right hand of the door, is a small wainscot closet, furnished with rare manuscripts. Two original letters of the Grand Signor were shown us, sent to two Popes, one of which was (as I remember) to Alexander VI. [Borgia], and the other mentioning the head of the lance which pierced our Blessed Savior's side, as a present to the Pope: I would feign have gotten a copy of them, but could not; I hear, however, that they are since translated into Italian, and that therein is a most honorable mention of Christ.
In the great room, which has a nice library, to the right of the door is a small paneled closet filled with rare manuscripts. We were shown two original letters from the Grand Signor, sent to two Popes—one was to Alexander VI. [Borgia], if I remember correctly, and the other mentioned the head of the lance that pierced our Blessed Savior's side as a gift for the Pope. I really wanted to get a copy of them, but I couldn't. I’ve heard, though, that they’ve since been translated into Italian, and that there’s a very honorable mention of Christ in them.
We revisited St. Ambrose's church. The high altar is supported by four porphyry columns, and under it lie the remains of that holy man. Near it they showed us a pit, or well (an obscure place it is), where they say St. Ambrose baptized St. Augustine, and recited the Te Deum; for so imports the inscription. The place is also famous for some Councils that have been held here, and for the coronation of divers Italian Kings and Emperors, receiving the iron crown from the Archbishop of this see.37 They show the History by Josephus, written on the bark of trees. The high altar is wonderfully rich.
We visited St. Ambrose's church again. The high altar is supported by four porphyry columns, and beneath it lie the remains of that holy man. Nearby, they showed us a pit, or well (it's a rather obscure spot), where they say St. Ambrose baptized St. Augustine and recited the Te Deum; that's what the inscription says. This place is also well-known for some Councils that have been held here and for the coronation of various Italian Kings and Emperors, who received the iron crown from the Archbishop of this diocese.37 They display the History by Josephus, written on tree bark. The high altar is incredibly lavish.
Milan is one of the most princely cities in Europe: it has no suburbs, but is circled with a stately wall for ten miles, in the center of a country that seems to flow with milk and honey. The air is excellent; the fields fruitful to admiration, the market abounding with all sorts of provisions. In the city are near 100 churches, 71 monasteries, and 40,000 inhabitants; it is of a circular figure, fortified with bastions, full of sumptuous palaces and rare artists, especially for works in crystal, which is here cheap, being found among the Alps. They have curious straw-work among the nuns, even to admiration. It has a good river, and a citadel at some small distance from the city,[Pg 225] commanding it, of great strength for its works and munitions of all kinds. It was built by Galeatius II., and consists of four bastions, and works at the angles and fronts; the graff is faced with brick to a very great depth; has two strong towers as one enters, and within is another fort, and spacious lodgings for the soldiers, and for exercising them. No accommodation for strength is wanting, and all exactly uniform. They have here also all sorts of work and tradesmen, a great magazine of arms and provisions. The fosse is of spring water, with a mill for grinding corn, and the ramparts vaulted underneath. Don Juan Vasques Coronada was now Governor; the garrison Spaniards only.
Milan is one of the most prestigious cities in Europe: it has no suburbs but is surrounded by an impressive wall for ten miles, in the center of a region that seems to flow with milk and honey. The air is excellent; the fields are extraordinarily fertile, and the markets are filled with all kinds of goods. The city has nearly 100 churches, 71 monasteries, and 40,000 residents; it has a circular shape, fortified with bastions, and is home to magnificent palaces and talented artists, especially known for their crystal work, which is affordable here due to its availability in the Alps. The nuns also create impressive straw work. There’s a good river, and a citadel located not far from the city,[Pg 225] which commands it and is very strong due to its structures and armaments. It was built by Galeatius II., features four bastions, and includes works at its corners and fronts; the ditch is lined with brick to a significant depth; it has two strong towers at the entrance, and inside is another fort with ample housing for soldiers and space for their training. There’s no shortage of defensive features, and everything is perfectly uniform. They also have various tradesmen, a large storage for arms and supplies. The moat is filled with spring water, equipped with a mill for grinding grain, and the ramparts are vaulted underneath. Don Juan Vasques Coronada was the current Governor, and the garrison was composed solely of Spaniards.
There is nothing better worth seeing than the collection of Signor Septalla, a canon of St. Ambrose, famous over Christendom for his learning and virtues. Among other things, he showed us an Indian wood, that has the perfect scent of civet; a flint, or pebble, that has a quantity of water in it, which is plainly to be seen, it being clear as agate; divers crystals that have water moving in them, some of them having plants, leaves, and hog's bristles in them; much amber full of insects, and divers things of woven amianthus.
There’s nothing better to see than the collection of Signor Septalla, a canon of St. Ambrose, who is well-known throughout Christendom for his knowledge and virtues. Among other things, he showed us a piece of Indian wood with a perfect scent of civet; a flint or pebble containing visible water, clear as agate; various crystals with moving water inside them, some even containing plants, leaves, and hog's bristles; plenty of amber filled with insects; and various woven items made of amianthus.
Milan is a sweet place, and though the streets are narrow, they abound in rich coaches, and are full of noblesse, who frequent the course every night. Walking a turn in the portico before the dome, a cavaliero who passed by, hearing some of us speaking English, looked a good while earnestly on us, and by and by sending his servant, desiring we would honor him the next day at dinner. We looked on this as an odd invitation, he not speaking to us himself, but we returned his civility with thanks, though not fully resolved what to do, or indeed what might be the meaning of it in this jealous place; but on inquiry, it was told us he was a Scots Colonel, who had an honorable command in the city, so that we agreed to go. This afternoon, we were wholly taken up in seeing an opera represented by some Neapolitans, performed all in excellent music with rare scenes, in which there acted a celebrated beauty.
Milan is a charming city, and even though the streets are narrow, they are filled with luxurious carriages and lots of nobles who gather at the promenade every evening. While we were strolling in the portico in front of the cathedral, a gentleman passed by, and upon hearing us speak English, he looked at us for a while. After some time, he sent his servant to invite us to dinner the next day. We found this invitation a bit unusual since he hadn’t approached us himself, but we thanked him for his politeness, although we were still uncertain about what to do or what it might imply in this cautious environment. Upon asking around, we learned he was a Scottish Colonel with an esteemed position in the city, so we decided to accept his invitation. This afternoon, we spent our time watching an opera performed by a group of Neapolitans, complete with beautiful music and stunning scenes, featuring a famous beauty.
Next morning, we went to the Colonel's, who had sent his servant again to conduct us to his house, which we found to be a noble palace, richly furnished. There were[Pg 226] other guests, all soldiers, one of them a Scotchman, but we could not learn one of their names. At dinner, he excused his rudeness that he had not himself spoken to us; telling us it was his custom, when he heard of any English travelers (who but rarely would be known to pass through that city for fear of the Inquisition), to invite them to his house, where they might be free. We had a sumptuous dinner; and the wine was so tempting, that after some healths had gone about, and we had risen from the table, the Colonel led us into his hall, where there hung up divers colors, saddles, bridles, pistols, and other arms, being trophies which he had taken with his own hands from the enemy; among them, he would needs bestow a pair of pistols on Captain Wray, one of our fellow-travelers, and a good drinking gentleman, and on me a Turkish bridle woven with silk and very curiously embossed, with other silk trappings, to which hung a half moon finely wrought, which he had taken from a bashaw whom he had slain. With this glorious spoil, I rode the rest of my journey as far as Paris, and brought it afterward into England. He then showed us a stable of brave horses, with his menage and cavalerizzo. Some of the horses he caused to be brought out, which he mounted, and performed all the motions of an excellent horseman. When this was done, and he had alighted,—contrary to the advice of his groom and page, who knew the nature of the beast, and that their master was a little spirited with wine, he would have a fiery horse that had not yet been managed and was very ungovernable, but was otherwise a very beautiful creature; this he mounting, the horse, getting the reins in a full carriere, rose so desperately that he fell quite back, crushing the Colonel so forcibly against the wall of the menage, that though he sat on him like a Centaur, yet recovering the jade on all fours again, he desired to be taken down and so led in, where he cast himself on a pallet; and, with infinite lamentations, after some time we took leave of him, being now speechless. The next morning, going to visit him, we found before the door the canopy which they usually carry over the host, and some with lighted tapers; which made us suspect he was in a very sad condition, and so indeed we found him, an Irish Friar standing by his bedside as confessing him, or at least disguising a con[Pg 227]fession, and other ceremonies used in extremis; for we afterward learned that the gentleman was a Protestant, and had this Friar, his confidant; which was a dangerous thing at Milan, had it been but suspected. At our entrance, he sighed grievously, and held up his hands, but was not able to speak. After vomiting some blood, he kindly took us all by the hand, and made signs that he should see us no more, which made us take our leave of him with extreme reluctancy and affliction for the accident. This sad disaster made us consult about our departure as soon as we could, not knowing how we might be inquired after, or engaged, the Inquisition being so cruelly formidable and inevitable, on the least suspicion. The next morning, therefore, discharging our lodgings, we agreed for a coach to carry us to the foot of the Alps, not a little concerned for the death of the Colonel, which we now heard of, and who had so courteously entertained us.
The next morning, we went to the Colonel’s place, who had sent his servant again to guide us to his home, which we found to be a grand palace, lavishly furnished. There were[Pg 226] other guests, all soldiers, one of them a Scotsman, but we didn't catch any of their names. At dinner, he apologized for his rudeness in not speaking to us personally, explaining that it was his custom, whenever he heard of English travelers (who rarely passed through that city for fear of the Inquisition), to invite them to his home so they might feel free. We enjoyed a lavish dinner, and the wine was so tempting that after a few toasts and once we had gotten up from the table, the Colonel took us into his hall, where various colors, saddles, bridles, pistols, and other arms were on display, trophies he had taken with his own hands from the enemy. Among them, he insisted on giving a pair of pistols to Captain Wray, one of our fellow travelers and a good drinking companion, and to me a Turkish bridle woven with silk and beautifully embossed, along with other silk decorations, which had a finely crafted half-moon attached that he had taken from a bashaw he had slain. With this splendid trophy, I rode for the rest of my journey as far as Paris and later brought it back to England. He then showed us a stable of fine horses, along with his menage and cavalerizzo. Some of the horses were brought out for him to ride, and he demonstrated all the skills of an excellent horseman. Once he finished and had dismounted—against the advice of his groom and page, who knew how the horse was and that their master was a bit tipsy—he chose a fiery horse that had not yet been tamed and was very unruly, though it was otherwise a stunning animal. As he mounted, the horse took off in a full gallop and reared back so violently that it threw the Colonel against the wall of the menage. Even though he stayed on the horse like a Centaur, when the horse finally got back on all fours, he asked to be taken down and led inside, where he collapsed onto a pallet. After numerous lamentations, we took our leave of him, now rendered speechless. The next morning, when we went to visit him, we found the canopy they usually carry over the host set up outside his door, along with some people holding lighted tapers; this made us suspect he was in very bad shape, and indeed, we found him so, with an Irish Friar standing by his bedside as if hearing his confession, or at least pretending to conduct a confession, and performing other rituals usually done at the point of death; we later learned that the gentleman was a Protestant and had this Friar as his confidant, which was a risky situation in Milan, even if it was just suspected. Upon our entrance, he sighed deeply and raised his hands, but couldn’t speak. After vomiting some blood, he kindly shook hands with all of us and gestured that he wouldn’t see us again, prompting us to leave with deep reluctance and sorrow over the incident. This tragic turn of events prompted us to discuss our departure as soon as we could, not knowing how we might be scrutinized or entangled, as the Inquisition was tremendously cruel and inevitable, even over the slightest suspicion. Therefore, the next morning, we checked out of our lodgings and arranged for a coach to take us to the foot of the Alps, deeply saddened by news of the Colonel's death, who had welcomed us so graciously.
The first day we got as far as Castellanza, by which runs a considerable river into Lago Maggiore; here, at dinner, were two or three Jesuits, who were very pragmatical and inquisitive, whom we declined conversation with as decently as we could; so we pursued our journey through a most fruitful plain, but the weather was wet and uncomfortable. At night, we lay at Sesto.
The first day we traveled as far as Castellanza, where a sizable river flows into Lago Maggiore. At dinner, there were two or three Jesuits who were quite pushy and curious, and we politely avoided talking to them as best as we could. So, we continued our journey through a very fertile plain, but the weather was rainy and uncomfortable. That night, we stayed in Sesto.
The next morning, leaving our coach, we embarked in a boat to carry us over the lake (being one of the largest in Europe), and whence we could see the towering Alps, and among them the great San Bernardo, esteemed the highest mountain in Europe, appearing to be some miles above the clouds. Through this vast water, passes the river Ticinus, which discharges itself into the Po, by which means Helvetia transports her merchandizes into Italy, which we now begin to leave behind us.
The next morning, after leaving our coach, we got into a boat to take us across the lake (which is one of the largest in Europe), and from there we could see the towering Alps, including the great San Bernardo, considered the highest mountain in Europe, looking like it was miles above the clouds. The river Ticinus runs through this vast body of water, flowing into the Po, allowing Helvetia to transport its goods into Italy, which we are now starting to leave behind.
Having now sailed about two leagues, we were hauled ashore at Arona, a strong town belonging to the Duchy of Milan, where, being examined by the Governor, and paying a small duty, we were dismissed. Opposite to this fort, is Angiera, another small town, the passage very pleasant with the prospect of the Alps covered with pine and fir trees, and above them snow. We passed the pretty island Isabella, about the middle of[Pg 228] the lake, on which is a fair house built on a mount; indeed, the whole island is a mount ascended by several terraces and walks all set above with orange and citron trees.
Having now sailed about two leagues, we were pulled ashore at Arona, a strong town in the Duchy of Milan. After being checked by the Governor and paying a small fee, we were let go. Across from this fort is Angiera, another small town, making the journey very pleasant with views of the Alps covered in pine and fir trees, and above them, snow. We passed the lovely island of Isabella, located roughly in the middle of[Pg 228] the lake, which features a beautiful house built on a hill. In fact, the entire island is a hill with several terraces and pathways adorned with orange and citron trees.
The next we saw was Isola, and we left on our right hand the Isle of St. Jovanni; and so sailing by another small town built also on an island, we arrived at night at Margazzo, an obscure village at the end of the lake, and at the very foot of the Alps, which now rise as it were suddenly after some hundreds of miles of the most even country in the world, and where there is hardly a stone to be found, as if Nature had here swept up the rubbish of the earth in the Alps, to form and clear the plains of Lombardy, which we had hitherto passed since our coming from Venice. In this wretched place, I lay on a bed stuffed with leaves, which made such a crackling and did so prick my skin through the tick, that I could not sleep. The next morning, I was furnished with an ass, for we could not get horses; instead of stirrups, we had ropes tied with a loop to put our feet in, which supplied the place of other trappings. Thus, with my gallant steed, bridled with my Turkish present, we passed through a reasonably pleasant but very narrow valley, till we came to Duomo, where we rested, and, having showed the Spanish pass, the Governor would press another on us, that his secretary might get a crown. Here we exchanged our asses for mules, sure-footed on the hills and precipices, being accustomed to pass them. Hiring a guide, we were brought that night through very steep, craggy, and dangerous passages to a village called Vedra, being the last of the King of Spain's dominions in the Duchy of Milan. We had a very infamous wretched lodging.
The next place we saw was Isola, and we passed the Isle of St. Jovanni on our right. After sailing by another small town also located on an island, we arrived that night at Margazzo, a little-known village at the end of the lake and right at the foot of the Alps, which rise abruptly after hundreds of miles of the flattest land in the world. There isn’t even a stone to be found, as if Nature had cleared away the debris of the earth in the Alps to create and smooth out the plains of Lombardy that we had traveled through since leaving Venice. In this miserable place, I lay on a bed stuffed with leaves that crackled so loudly and poked my skin through the cover that I couldn’t sleep. The next morning, I was given an ass since we couldn’t find horses; instead of stirrups, we had ropes tied in loops to put our feet in, which worked as substitutes for regular tack. So, with my noble steed, equipped with my Turkish gift, we passed through a fairly pleasant but very narrow valley until we reached Duomo, where we rested. After showing our Spanish pass, the Governor tried to get us to take another one, just so his secretary could earn a crown. Here, we exchanged our asses for mules, sure-footed in the hills and on cliffs since they were used to navigating them. After hiring a guide, we were led through very steep, rocky, and dangerous paths that night to a village called Vedra, the last of the King of Spain’s territories in the Duchy of Milan. We had a really terrible place to stay.
The next morning we mounted again through strange, horrid, and fearful crags and tracts, abounding in pine trees, and only inhabited by bears, wolves, and wild goats; nor could we anywhere see above a pistol shot before us, the horizon being terminated with rocks and mountains, whose tops, covered with snow, seemed to touch the skies, and in many places pierced the clouds. Some of these vast mountains were but one entire stone, between whose clefts now and then precipitated great cataracts of melted snow, and other waters, which made[Pg 229] a terrible roaring, echoing from the rocks and cavities; and these waters in some places breaking in the fall, wet us as if we had passed through a mist, so as we could neither see nor hear one another, but, trusting to our honest mules, we jogged on our way. The narrow bridges, in some places made only by felling huge fir trees, and laying them athwart from mountain to mountain, over cataracts of stupendous depth, are very dangerous, and so are the passages and edges made by cutting away the main rock; others in steps; and in some places we pass between mountains that have been broken and fallen on one another; which is very terrible, and one had need of a sure foot and steady head to climb some of these precipices, besides that they are harbors for bears and wolves, who have sometimes assaulted travelers. In these straits, we frequently alighted, now freezing in the snow, and anon frying by the reverberation of the sun against the cliffs as we descend lower, when we meet now and then a few miserable cottages so built upon the declining of the rocks, as one would expect their sliding down. Among these, inhabit a goodly sort of people, having monstrous gullets, or wens of flesh, growing to their throats, some of which I have seen as big as an hundred pound bag of silver hanging under their chins; among the women especially, and that so ponderous, as that to ease them, many wear linen cloth bound about their head, and coming under the chin to support it; but quis tumidum guttur miratur in Alpibus? Their drinking so much snow water is thought to be the cause of it; the men using more wine, are not so strumous as the women. The truth is, they are a peculiar race of people, and many great water drinkers here have not these prodigious tumors; it runs, as we say, in the blood, and is a vice in the race, and renders them so ugly, shriveled and deformed, by its drawing the skin of the face down, that nothing can be more frightful; to this add a strange puffing dress, furs, and that barbarous language, being a mixture of corrupt High German, French, and Italian. The people are of great stature, extremely fierce and rude, yet very honest and trusty.
The next morning, we set out again through strange, terrifying crags and areas filled with pine trees, inhabited only by bears, wolves, and wild goats. We could hardly see more than a pistol shot ahead of us, with rocks and mountains blocking our view. The mountain tops, covered in snow, seemed to reach the sky and often pierced the clouds. Some of these massive mountains were solid stone, with great waterfalls of melted snow and other waters cascading through their crevices, creating a terrible roar that echoed off the rocks and hollows. In some places, the falling water splashed down and soaked us as if we had walked through mist, making it hard to see or hear one another. Trusting our reliable mules, we continued on our way. The narrow bridges, made from massive fallen fir trees laid across deep gorges, were quite dangerous, as were the paths carved into the main rock, some in steps. At times, we passed between mountains that had collapsed onto one another, which was quite frightening. You needed to have sure footing and a steady mind to climb some of these cliffs, besides the fact that they were homes to bears and wolves, which sometimes attacked travelers. In these tough conditions, we often got off our mules, freezing in the snow one moment and then roasting in the heat reflected off the cliffs as we descended lower. Occasionally, we would come across a few miserable cottages precariously perched on the sloping rocks, as if they might slide down at any moment. Among these lived a peculiar group of people who had large growths, or wens, around their throats. I’ve seen some as big as a hundred-pound bag of silver hanging under their chins, especially among the women, who, overwhelmed by the weight, often wear linen cloth tied around their heads and under their chins for support. But quis tumidum guttur miratur in Alpibus? It’s believed that drinking so much snow water is the cause; the men, who consume more wine, don’t develop these swellings as much as the women do. The truth is that they are a unique group of people, and many heavy water drinkers here don’t have these massive tumors; it runs in the blood, we say, and is a flaw in their lineage, making them so ugly, shriveled, and deformed that it’s quite frightening. To that, add their strange, puffy clothing, furs, and that harsh language, a mix of broken High German, French, and Italian. The people are tall, very fierce and rough, yet quite honest and trustworthy.
This night, through almost inaccessible heights, we came in prospect of Mons Sempronius, now Mount Sampion, which has on its summit a few huts and a chapel.[Pg 230] Approaching this, Captain Wray's water spaniel (a huge filthy cur that had followed him out of England) hunted a herd of goats down the rocks into a river made by the melting of the snow. Arrived at our cold harbor (though the house had a stove in every room) and supping on cheese and milk with wretched wine, we went to bed in cupboards so high from the floor, that we climbed them by a ladder; we were covered with feathers, that is, we lay between two ticks stuffed with them, and all little enough to keep one warm. The ceilings of the rooms are strangely low for those tall people. The house was now (in September) half covered with snow, nor is there a tree, or a bush, growing within many miles.
This night, after navigating some pretty tough terrain, we reached Mons Sempronius, now known as Mount Sampion, which has a few huts and a chapel at the top.[Pg 230] As we got closer, Captain Wray's water spaniel (a huge, dirty mutt that had followed him all the way from England) chased a group of goats down the rocks into a river formed by melting snow. We finally made it to our cold shelter (even though there was a stove in every room), and while having cheese and milk with terrible wine for dinner, we went to bed in cupboards so high off the floor that we had to use a ladder to climb into them. We were covered with feathers, sleeping between two mattress ticks stuffed with them, which were just big enough to keep us warm. The ceilings in the rooms were surprisingly low for such tall people. By September, the house was half covered with snow, and there wasn’t a tree or bush in sight for miles.
From this uncomfortable place, we prepared to hasten away the next morning; but, as we were getting on our mules, comes a huge young fellow demanding money for a goat which he affirmed that Captain Wray's dog had killed; expostulating the matter, and impatient of staying in the cold, we set spurs and endeavored to ride away, when a multitude of people being by this time gotten together about us (for it being Sunday morning and attending for the priest to say mass), they stopped our mules, beat us off our saddles, and, disarming us of our carbines, drew us into one of the rooms of our lodging, and set a guard upon us. Thus we continued prisoners till mass was ended, and then came half a score grim Swiss, who, taking on them to be magistrates, sat down on the table, and condemned us to pay a pistole for the goat, and ten more for attempting to ride away, threatening that if we did not pay it speedily, they would send us to prison, and keep us to a day of public justice, where, as they perhaps would have exaggerated the crime, for they pretended we had primed our carbines and would have shot some of them (as indeed the Captain was about to do), we might have had our heads cut off, as we were told afterward, for that among these rude people a very small misdemeanor does often meet that sentence. Though the proceedings appeared highly unjust, on consultation among ourselves we thought it safer to rid ourselves out of their hands, and the trouble we were brought into; and therefore we patiently laid down the money, and with fierce countenances had our mules and arms delivered to us, and glad we were to escape as we did.[Pg 231] This was cold entertainment, but our journey after was colder, the rest of the way having been (as they told us) covered with snow since the Creation; no man remembered it to be without; and because, by the frequent snowing, the tracks are continually filled up, we passed by several tall masts set up to guide travelers, so as for many miles they stand in ken of one another, like to our beacons. In some places, where there is a cleft between two mountains, the snow fills it up, while the bottom, being thawed, leaves as it were a frozen arch of snow, and that so hard as to bear the greatest weight; for as it snows often, so it perpetually freezes, of which I was so sensible that it flawed the very skin of my face.
From this uncomfortable spot, we got ready to leave the next morning; but as we were getting on our mules, a big guy came up demanding money for a goat that he claimed Captain Wray's dog had killed. After arguing about it, and feeling impatient in the cold, we kicked our mules into motion to try to escape. However, a crowd had gathered around us (since it was Sunday morning and everyone was waiting for the priest to say mass), and they stopped our mules, threw us off our saddles, took our carbines, dragged us into one of the rooms in our lodging, and put us under guard. We remained prisoners until the mass was over, when a group of stern Swiss, who acted like magistrates, sat down at the table and ordered us to pay a pistole for the goat, plus ten more for trying to ride away. They threatened to send us to prison if we didn't pay quickly, warning that we would face a public trial where they might exaggerate our crime, suggesting we had primed our carbines and would have shot at them (which the Captain was indeed about to do). We could have faced execution, as we were later told, since in that rough crowd even a minor offense often leads to severe punishment. Although the whole situation felt extremely unfair, after discussing it among ourselves, we decided it would be safer to get out of their grasp and the trouble it brought us. So, we reluctantly paid the money, received our mules and weapons back with grim faces, and were just glad to escape as we did. [Pg 231] This was a cold experience, but our journey afterward was even colder; the path ahead had been, as they told us, covered with snow since the beginning of time, and no one remembered it ever being without snow. Because of the frequent snowfall, the tracks were constantly filled in, and we passed by several tall masts set up to guide travelers, which stood visible for many miles, similar to our beacons. In places where there was a gap between two mountains, the snow filled it up, while the bottom, being thawed, left a frozen arch of snow so solid it could bear a great weight. Since it snows often, it also freezes continuously, and I could feel it so much that it actually chafed the skin on my face.
Beginning now to descend a little, Captain Wray's horse (that was our sumpter and carried all our baggage) plunging through a bank of loose snow, slid down a frightful precipice, which so incensed the choleric cavalier, his master, that he was sending a brace of bullets into the poor beast, lest our guide should recover him, and run away with his burden; but, just as he was lifting up his carbine, we gave such a shout, and so pelted the horse with snow-balls, as with all his might plunging through the snow, he fell from another steep place into another bottom, near a path we were to pass. It was yet a good while ere we got to him, but at last we recovered the place, and, easing him of his charge, hauled him out of the snow, where he had been certainly frozen in, if we had not prevented it, before night. It was as we judged almost two miles that he had slid and fallen, yet without any other harm than the benumbing of his limbs for the present, but, with lusty rubbing and chafing he began to move, and, after a little walking, performed his journey well enough. All this way, affrighted with the disaster of this horse, we trudged on foot, driving our mules before us; sometimes we fell, sometimes we slid, through this ocean of snow, which after October is impassible. Toward night, we came into a larger way, through vast woods of pines, which clothe the middle parts of these rocks. Here, they were burning some to make pitch and rosin, peeling the knotty branches, as we do to make charcoal, reserving what melts from them, which hardens into pitch. We passed several cascades of dissolved snow, that had made channels of formidable depth in the[Pg 232] crevices of the mountains, and with such a fearful roaring as we could hear it for seven long miles. It is from these sources that the Rhone and the Rhine, which pass through all France and Germany, derive their originals. Late at night, we got to a town called Briga, at the foot of the Alps, in the Valteline. Almost every door had nailed on the outside and next the street a bear's, wolf's, or fox's head, and divers of them, all three; a savage kind of sight, but, as the Alps are full of the beasts, the people often kill them. The next morning, we returned to our guide, and took fresh mules, and another to conduct us to the Lake of Geneva, passing through as pleasant a country as that we had just traveled was melancholy and troublesome. A strange and sudden change it seemed; for the reverberation of the sunbeams from the mountains and rocks that like walls range it on both sides, not above two flight-shots in breadth, for a very great number of miles, renders the passage excessively hot. Through such extremes we continued our journey, that goodly river, the Rhone, gliding by us in a narrow and quiet channel almost in the middle of this Canton, fertilizing the country for grass and corn, which grow here in abundance.
Starting to go down a bit, Captain Wray's horse (our pack animal that carried all our gear) got caught in some loose snow, slid down a steep cliff, which made the hot-tempered captain so angry that he fired a couple of shots at the poor animal to stop our guide from rescuing it and taking off with our stuff. Just as he was raising his rifle, we shouted really loud and threw snowballs at the horse, which made it plunge through the snow and fall down another steep spot near the path we needed to take. It took us a while to reach it, but eventually, we found the spot, relieved it of its load, and pulled it out of the snow, where it would have certainly frozen if we hadn’t gotten there before nightfall. We estimated it had slid and fallen for almost two miles, but it was only slightly hurt, more cold than anything. After some vigorous rubbing and warming up, it began to move again, and after walking a bit, it was able to finish its journey just fine. All this time, worried about the horse's accident, we trudged on foot, herding our mules ahead of us; sometimes we fell, sometimes we slid through this sea of snow, which is impassable after October. As night fell, we reached a wider path through large pine woods that cover the central areas of these mountains. Here, they were burning some trees to make pitch and rosin, stripping the knotty branches like we do for making charcoal, saving the melted substance that hardens into pitch. We passed several waterfalls from melted snow, which had carved deep channels in the mountain crevices, making a loud roar that we could hear for seven long miles. This is where the Rhone and the Rhine rivers, which flow through all of France and Germany, originate. Late at night, we arrived at a town called Briga, at the foot of the Alps in Valteline. Almost every door had a bear's, wolf's, or fox's head nailed to it, sometimes all three; a brutal sight, but since the Alps are full of these animals, the locals often hunt them. The next morning, we went back to our guide, got fresh mules, and another one to take us to Lake Geneva, passing through a much nicer area compared to the bleak and difficult terrain we just traveled. It seemed like a strange and sudden change; the reflection of sunlight off the mountains and rocks lining both sides of the narrow passage made it extremely hot, with no more than two shots of a gun in width for a great distance. We continued our journey through such extremes, the beautiful Rhone River flowing beside us in a narrow, calm channel right in the middle of this region, making the land fertile for grass and crops that grow here abundantly.
We arrived this night at Sion, a pretty town and city, a bishop's seat, and the head of Valesia. There is a castle, and the bishop who resides in it, has both civil and ecclesiastical jurisdiction. Our host, as the custom of these Cantons is, was one of the chiefest of the town, and had been a Colonel in France: he treated us with extreme civility, and was so displeased at the usage we received at Mount Sampion, that he would needs give us a letter to the Governor of the country, who resided at St. Maurice, which was in our way to Geneva, to revenge the affront. This was a true old blade, and had been a very curious virtuoso, as we found by a handsome collection of books, medals, pictures, shells, and other antiquities. He showed two heads and horns of the true capricorn, which animal he told us was frequently killed among the mountains; one branch of them was as much as I could well lift, and near as high as my head, not much unlike the greater sort of goat's, save that they bent forward, by help whereof they climb up and hang on inaccessible rocks, from whence the[Pg 233] inhabitants now and then shoot them. They speak prodigious things of their leaping from crag to crag, and of their sure footing, notwithstanding their being cloven-footed, unapt (one would think) to take hold and walk so steadily on those horrible ridges as they do. The Colonel would have given me one of these beams, but the want of a convenience to carry it along with me, caused me to refuse his courtesy. He told me that in the castle there were some Roman and Christian antiquities, and he had some inscriptions in his own garden. He invited us to his country-house, where he said he had better pictures, and other rarities; but, our time being short, I could not persuade my companions to stay and visit the places he would have had us see, nor the offer he made to show us the hunting of the bear, wolf, and other wild beasts. The next morning, having presented his daughter, a pretty well-fashioned young woman, with a small ruby ring, we parted somewhat late from our generous host.
We arrived tonight in Sion, a beautiful town and city, a bishop's seat, and the capital of Valesia. There's a castle, and the bishop who lives there has both civil and church authority. Our host, as is the custom in these Cantons, was one of the prominent citizens of the town and had been a Colonel in France. He treated us with great kindness and was so upset by the treatment we received at Mount Sampion that he insisted on giving us a letter to the Governor of the region, who lived in St. Maurice, which was on our way to Geneva, to seek revenge for the insult. He was a true gentleman and had a fascinating collection of books, medals, pictures, shells, and other antiques. He showed us the heads and horns of the true capricorn, which he said were often hunted in the mountains; one horn was heavy enough that I could barely lift it, and it was nearly as tall as my head, not unlike a large goat's, except that they curved forward, helping them to climb and hang onto steep cliffs, from which the local inhabitants occasionally shoot them. They say amazing things about how they leap from rock to rock and have such sure footing, despite being cloven-footed, which one would think would make it hard for them to balance on those treacherous ledges. The Colonel offered to give me one of these horns, but I had no way to carry it, so I had to decline his generous offer. He mentioned that there were some Roman and Christian antiquities in the castle and that he had some inscriptions in his own garden. He invited us to his country house, where he claimed he had better paintings and other rarities, but since we were short on time, I couldn't convince my companions to stay and visit the sites he wanted to show us, nor accept his offer to take us bear, wolf, and other wild animal hunting. The next morning, after giving his daughter, a charming young woman, a small ruby ring, we parted ways from our generous host a bit later than planned.
Passing through the same pleasant valley between the horrid mountains on either hand, like a gallery many miles in length, we got to Martigni, where also we were well entertained. The houses in this country are all built of fir boards, planed within, low, and seldom above one story. The people very clownish and rusticly clad, after a very odd fashion, for the most part in blue cloth, very whole and warm, with little variety of distinction between the gentleman and common sort, by a law of their country being exceedingly frugal. Add to this their great honesty and fidelity, though exacting enough for what they part with: I saw not one beggar. We paid the value of twenty shillings English, for a day's hire of one horse. Every man goes with a sword by his side, the whole country well disciplined, and indeed impregnable, which made the Romans have such ill success against them; one lusty Swiss at their narrow passages is sufficient to repel a legion. It is a frequent thing here for a young tradesman, or farmer, to leave his wife and children for twelve or fifteen years, and seek his fortune in the wars in Spain, France, Italy, or Germany, and then return again to work. I look upon this country to be the safest spot of all Europe, neither envied nor envying; nor are any of them rich,[Pg 234] nor poor; they live in great simplicity and tranquillity; and, though of the fourteen Cantons half be Roman Catholics, the rest reformed, yet they mutually agree, and are confederate with Geneva, and are its only security against its potent neighbors, as they themselves are from being attacked by the greater potentates, by the mutual jealousy of their neighbors, as either of them would be overbalanced, should the Swiss, who are wholly mercenary and auxiliaries, be subjected to France or Spain.
Passing through the same pleasant valley between the terrible mountains on either side, like a gallery many miles long, we arrived in Martigni, where we were also well received. The houses in this area are all made of fir boards, smooth on the inside, low, and usually only one story tall. The people are quite rustic and dressed in a very peculiar way, mostly in durable, warm blue cloth, with little distinction between the gentlemen and common folks, due to a local law that promotes frugality. In addition to this, they are known for their great honesty and loyalty, though they do expect fair value for what they sell: I saw not a single beggar. We paid the equivalent of twenty shillings in English money for one day's rental of a horse. Every man carries a sword at his side; the whole country is well-disciplined and quite impressive, which is why the Romans had such poor success against them; one strong Swiss soldier at their narrow passes is enough to fend off an entire legion. It's common here for a young tradesman or farmer to leave his wife and kids for twelve or fifteen years to seek his fortune in wars in Spain, France, Italy, or Germany, and then return to work. I see this country as the safest place in all of Europe, neither envied nor envious; they are neither rich nor poor; they live with great simplicity and peace; and even though half of the fourteen Cantons are Roman Catholics and the other half are Reformed, they coexist peacefully and are allied with Geneva, which helps protect them from powerful neighbors, while they themselves are safeguarded from being attacked by stronger powers due to the mutual distrust among their neighbors, as either side would be at a disadvantage if the Swiss, who are entirely mercenaries and auxiliaries, were to fall under the rule of France or Spain.
We were now arrived at St. Maurice, a large handsome town and residence of the President, where justice is done. To him we presented our letter from Sion, and made known the ill usage we had received for killing a wretched goat, which so incensed him, that he swore if we would stay he would not only help us to recover our money again, but most severely punish the whole rabble; but our desire of revenge had by this time subsided, and glad we were to be gotten so near France, which we reckoned as good as home. He courteously invited us to dine with him; but we excused ourselves, and, returning to our inn, while we were eating something before we took horse, the Governor had caused two pages to bring us a present of two great vessels of covered plate full of excellent wine, in which we drank his health, and rewarded the youths; they were two vast bowls supported by two Swiss, handsomely wrought after the German manner. This civility and that of our host at Sion, perfectly reconciled us to the highlanders; and so, proceeding on our journey we passed this afternoon through the gate which divides the Valais from the Duchy of Savoy, into which we were now entering, and so, through Montei, we arrived that evening at BEVERETTABeveretta. Being extremely weary and complaining of my head, and finding little accommodation in the house, I caused one of our hostess's daughters to be removed out of her bed and went immediately into it while it was yet warm, being so heavy with pain and drowsiness that I would not stay to have the sheets changed; but I shortly after paid dearly for my impatience, falling sick of the smallpox as soon as I came to GENEVAGeneva, for by the smell of frankincense and the tale the good woman told me of her daughter having had an ague, I afterward concluded she had been newly recovered of the[Pg 235] smallpox. Notwithstanding this, I went with my company, the next day, hiring a bark to carry us over the lake; and indeed, sick as I was, the weather was so serene and bright, the water so calm, and air so temperate, that never had travelers a sweeter passage. Thus, we sailed the whole length of the lake, about thirty miles, the countries bordering on it (Savoy and Berne) affording one of the most delightful prospects in the world, the Alps covered with snow, though at a great distance, yet showing their aspiring tops. Through this lake, the river Rhodanus passes with that velocity as not to mingle with its exceeding deep waters, which are very clear, and breed the most celebrated trout for largeness and goodness of any in Europe. I have ordinarily seen one of three feet in length sold in the market for a small price, and such we had in the lodging where we abode, which was at the White Cross. All this while, I held up tolerably; and the next morning having a letter for Signor John Diodati, the famous Italian minister and translator of the Holy Bible into that language, I went to his house, and had a great deal of discourse with that learned person. He told me he had been in England, driven by tempest into Deal, while sailing for Holland, that he had seen London, and was exceedingly taken with the civilities he received. He so much approved of our Church-government by Bishops, that he told me the French Protestants would make no scruple to submit to it and all its pomp, had they a king of the Reformed religion as we had. He exceedingly deplored the difference now between his Majesty and the Parliament. After dinner, came one Monsieur Saladine, with his little pupil, the Earl of Caernarvon, to visit us, offering to carry us to the principal places of the town; but, being now no more able to hold up my head, I was constrained to keep my chamber, imagining that my very eyes would have dropped out; and this night I felt such a stinging about me, that I could not sleep. In the morning, I was very ill, but sending for a doctor, he persuaded me to be bled. He was a very learned old man, and, as he said, he had been physician to Gustavus the Great, King of Sweden, when he passed this way into Italy, under the name of Monsieur Gars, the initial letters of Gustavus Adolphus Rex Sueciæ, and of our famous Duke of Buckingham, on his returning out of Italy. He afterward[Pg 236] acknowledged that he should not have bled me, had he suspected the smallpox, which broke out a day after. He afterward purged me, and applied leeches, and God knows what this would have produced, if the spots had not appeared, for he was thinking of bleeding me again. They now kept me warm in bed for sixteen days, tended by a vigilant Swiss matron, whose monstrous throat, when I sometimes awakened out of unquiet slumbers, would affright me. After the pimples were come forth, which were not many, I had much ease as to pain, but infinitely afflicted with heat and noisomeness. By God's mercy, after five weeks' keeping my chamber, I went abroad. Monsieur Saladine and his lady sent me many refreshments. Monsieur Le Chat, my physician, to excuse his letting me bleed, told me it was so burnt and vicious as it would have proved the plague, or spotted fever, had he proceeded by any other method. On my recovering sufficiently to go abroad, I dined at Monsieur Saladine's, and in the afternoon went across the water on the side of the lake, and took a lodging that stood exceedingly pleasant, about half a mile from the city for the better airing; but I stayed only one night, having no company there, save my pipe; so, the next day, I caused them to row me about the lake as far as the great stone, which they call Neptune's Rock, on which they say sacrifice was anciently offered to him. Thence, I landed at certain cherry gardens and pretty villas by the side of the lake, and exceedingly pleasant. Returning, I visited their conservatories of fish; in which were trouts of six and seven feet long, AS THEY AFFIRMED.
We had now arrived at St. Maurice, a large, beautiful town and residence of the President, where justice takes place. We presented our letter from Sion and explained the mistreatment we endured for killing a miserable goat, which made him so angry that he promised if we stayed, he would not only help us recover our money but also severely punish the entire mob. However, by that point, our desire for revenge had faded, and we were just happy to be close to France, which we considered practically like home. He kindly invited us to dinner, but we declined and returned to our inn. While we were having a little something to eat before heading out, the Governor had two pages bring us a gift of two large covered vessels full of excellent wine. We toasted to his health and rewarded the young men. The vessels were huge bowls supported by two Swiss figures, beautifully crafted in the German style. This kindness, along with that of our host in Sion, completely reconciled us to the highlanders. So, continuing our journey, we passed through the gate that separates Valais from the Duchy of Savoy, into which we were now entering. We arrived that evening at BEVERETTABeveretta. Extremely tired and feeling ill, I found little comfort in the house, so I had one of our host’s daughters moved out of her bed and immediately climbed in while it was still warm. I was so weighed down with pain and drowsiness that I didn’t wait for the sheets to be changed. Soon after, I paid dearly for my impatience, as I fell sick with smallpox as soon as I reached GENEVAGeneva, because of the smell of frankincense and the tale the kind woman told me about her daughter having had an ague made me conclude she had just recovered from the [Pg 235]smallpox. Despite this, I traveled with my group the next day, hiring a boat to take us across the lake. Indeed, as sick as I was, the weather was so clear and bright, the water so calm, and the air so pleasant that we had an incredibly enjoyable passage. We sailed the entire length of the lake, about thirty miles, with the surrounding lands (Savoy and Berne) providing one of the most delightful views in the world, the snow-covered Alps visible even from a distance, their towering peaks standing tall. Through this lake runs the river Rhodanus with such speed that it does not mix with its extremely deep, clear waters, which are known for producing the largest and finest trout in Europe. I've often seen ones three feet long sold at a low price in the market, and we had some at our lodging, which was at the White Cross. Throughout this time, I managed to hold up fairly well. The next morning, I had a letter for Signor John Diodati, the well-known Italian minister and translator of the Bible into Italian, so I went to his house and had a lengthy conversation with the learned man. He told me he had been in England, blown off course into Deal while sailing for Holland, that he had seen London, and was greatly impressed by the kindness he received. He so much admired our governance by Bishops that he said the French Protestants would not hesitate to accept it along with all its traditions if they had a king of the Reformed religion as we did. He lamented the current rift between his Majesty and the Parliament. After dinner, a Monsieur Saladine came to visit us with his young pupil, the Earl of Caernarvon, offering to show us the main attractions of the town. But, unable to hold my head up any longer, I had to stay in my room, feeling as if my eyes might pop out. That night, I felt such a stinging sensation all over that I couldn’t sleep. In the morning, I was feeling very ill, but when I called for a doctor, he encouraged me to get bled. He was an elderly, learned man, who mentioned that he had been the physician to Gustavus the Great, King of Sweden, when he passed through this way into Italy under the name of Monsieur Gars, the initials of Gustavus Adolphus Rex Sueciæ, and of our famous Duke of Buckingham, on his return from Italy. He later admitted that he wouldn't have bled me had he suspected the smallpox, which broke out a day later. He then gave me a purgative and applied leeches, and God knows how that would have turned out if the spots hadn’t appeared, because he was thinking of bleeding me again. They kept me warm in bed for sixteen days, cared for by a diligent Swiss matron, whose monstrous throat would frighten me whenever I awoke from restless slumbers. Once the pimples appeared, which weren’t many, I felt much relief from pain but was still extremely troubled by heat and unpleasantness. By God’s mercy, after being confined to my room for five weeks, I was able to go outside. Monsieur Saladine and his wife sent me many treats. Monsieur Le Chat, my physician, tried to justify his letting me be bled by saying it was so burnt and contaminated that it would have led to the plague or spotted fever had he taken any other approach. Once I had recovered enough to go out, I dined at Monsieur Saladine’s and in the afternoon crossed the lake to stay in a wonderfully pleasant lodge about half a mile from the city for better air. But I only stayed one night, having nobody there but my pipe, so the next day I had them row me around the lake as far as the big stone they call Neptune's Rock, where they say sacrifices were once made to him. From there, I landed at some cherry orchards and lovely villas by the lakeside, which were very charming. On my way back, I visited their fish conservatories, where they had trouts six and seven feet long, AS THEY CONFIRMED.
The Rhone, which parts the city in the midst dips into a cavern underground, about six miles from it, and afterward rises again, and runs its open course, like our Mole, or Swallow, by Dorking, in Surrey. The next morning (being Thursday) I heard Dr. Diodati preach in Italian, many of that country, especially of Lucca, his native place, being inhabitants of Geneva, and of the Reformed religion.
The Rhone, which divides the city, dips into an underground cavern about six miles away, then rises again and flows freely, similar to our Mole or Swallow rivers near Dorking in Surrey. The next morning (Thursday), I heard Dr. Diodati preach in Italian, as many people from his native place of Lucca were residents of Geneva and followed the Reformed religion.
The town lying between Germany, France, and Italy, those three tongues are familiarly spoken by the inhabitants. It is a strong, well-fortified city, part of it built on a rising ground. The houses are not despicable, but the high pent-houses (for I can hardly call them clois[Pg 237]ters, being all of wood), through which the people pass dry and in the shade, winter and summer, exceedingly deform the fronts of the buildings. Here are abundance of booksellers; but their books are of ill impressions; these, with watches (of which store are made here), crystal, and excellent screwed guns, are the staple commodities. All provisions are good and cheap.
The town located between Germany, France, and Italy has residents who commonly speak all three languages. It’s a strong, well-fortified city, with part of it built on a hill. The houses aren’t bad, but the high penthouses (which I can barely call cloisters, since they’re all made of wood) create a dry, shaded passage for people to walk through in both winter and summer, which really detracts from the appearance of the buildings. There are plenty of booksellers here; however, their books have poor quality prints. The main products sold include these books, along with watches (which are produced here), crystal, and well-made guns. All food items are good quality and inexpensive.
The town-house is fairly built of stone; the portico has four black marble columns; and, on a table of the same, under the city arms, a demi-eagle and cross, between cross-keys, is a motto, "Post Tenebras Lux," and this inscription:
The townhouse is solidly constructed from stone; the porch features four black marble columns; and on a table of the same stone, beneath the city emblem, a half-eagle and cross, flanked by crossed keys, is a motto, "After Darkness, Light," along with this inscription:
Quum anno 1535 profligatâ Romanâ Anti-Christi Tyrannide, abrogatisq; ejus superstitionibus, sacro-sancta Christi Religio hìc in suam puritatem, Ecclesiâ in meliorem ordinem singulari Dei beneficio repositâ, et simul pulsis fugatisq; hostibus, urbs ipsa in suam libertatem, non sine insigni miraculo, restituta fuerit; Senatus Populusq; Genevensis Monumentum hoc perpetuæ memoriæ causâ fieri atque hoc loco erigi curavit, quod suam erga Deum gratitudinem ad posteros testatum fuerit.
When in the year 1535 the tyranny of the Roman Anti-Christ was defeated, and its superstitions abolished, the sacred religion of Christ was restored to its purity here, the Church placed in a better order by a singular blessing of God, and at the same time, with enemies put to flight, the city itself was restored to its freedom, not without a remarkable miracle; the Senate and the People of Geneva made this monument to serve as a lasting memory, to testify their gratitude towards God for future generations.
The territories about the town are not so large as many ordinary gentlemen have about their country farms, for which cause they are in continual watch, especially on the Savoy side; but, in case of any siege the Swiss are at hand, as this inscription in the same place shows, toward the street:
The areas around the town aren't as expansive as what many regular gentlemen have on their country estates, which is why they are always on alert, especially on the Savoy side. However, if there's ever a siege, the Swiss are nearby, as this inscription in the same spot indicates, facing the street:
D.O.M.S.
Delayed Onset Muscle Soreness.
Anno a verâ Religione divinitûs cum veteri Libertate Genevæ restitutâ, et quasi novo Jubilæo ineunte, plurimis vitatis domi et forsi insidiis et superatis tempestatibus, et cum Helvetiorum Primari Tigurini æquo jure in societatem perpetuam nobiscum venerint, et veteres fidissimi socii Bernenses prius vinculum novo adstrinxerint, S.P.Q.G. quod felix esse velit D.O.M. tanti, beneficii monumentum consecrârunt, anno temporis ultimi CCƆ.IƆ.XXXIV.
In the year of true religion restored with the old freedom of Geneva, and almost like a new jubilee beginning, after many dangers at home and perhaps from plots, and after overcoming storms, the leading Helvetii from Tigurini joined us in a fair and lasting partnership, and our old, most loyal allies from Bern first renewed their bond; the Senate and People of Geneva have dedicated a monument to commemorate this great benefit from God, in the year of the last time CCƆ.IƆ.XXXIV.
In the Senate-house, were fourteen ancient urns, dug up as they were removing earth in the fortifications.
In the Senate house, there were fourteen ancient urns that were found while they were digging up the ground for the fortifications.
A little out of the town is a spacious field, which they call Campus Martius; and well it may be so termed, with better reason, than that at Rome at present (which is no more a field, but all built into streets), for here on every Sunday, after the evening devotions, this precise people permit their youth to exercise arms, and shoot in guns, and in the long and cross bows, in which they are[Pg 238] exceedingly expert, reputed to be as dexterous as any people in the world. To encourage this, they yearly elect him who has won most prizes at the mark, to be their king, as the king of the long-bow, gun, or cross-bow. He then wears that weapon in his hat in gold, with a crown over it made fast to the hat like a brooch. In this field, is a long house wherein their arms and furniture are kept in several places very neatly. To this joins a hall, where, at certain times, they meet and feast; in the glass windows are the arms and names of their kings [of arms]. At the side of the field, is a very noble Pall-Mall, but it turns with an elbow. There is also a bowling-place, a tavern, and a trey-table, and here they ride their menaged horses. It is also the usual place of public execution of those who suffer for any capital crime, though committed in another country, by which law divers fugitives have been put to death, who have fled hither to escape punishment in their own country. Among other severe punishments here, adultery is death. Having seen this field, and played a game at mall, I supped with Mr. Saladine.
A little outside of town is a large field they call Campus Martius, and it’s rightly named since it makes more sense than the one in Rome today (which is completely built up into streets). Here, every Sunday, after evening prayers, this specific community allows their youth to practice archery and shoot guns, as well as use long and crossbows, in which they are extremely skilled, believed to be as proficient as any group in the world. To promote this, they elect each year the person who has won the most prizes in archery to be their king— the king of the longbow, gun, or crossbow. He then wears that weapon in gold on his hat, secured with a crown attached like a brooch. In this field, there’s a long building where their weapons and equipment are kept very neatly in various places. Next to it is a hall where, at certain times, they gather and feast; the glass windows showcase the arms and names of their kings [of arms]. Alongside the field, there’s a very nice Pall-Mall, although it has a bend in it. There’s also a bowling area, a tavern, and a three-table, and this is where they ride their trained horses. It’s also the usual spot for public executions of those who have committed serious crimes, even if those crimes were committed in another country, which has led to various fugitives being executed here to escape punishment in their own land. Among other harsh punishments here, adultery is punishable by death. After exploring this field and playing a game of mall, I had dinner with Mr. Saladine.
On Sunday, I heard Dr. Diodati preach in French, and after the French mode, in a gown with a cape, and his hat on. The Church Government is severely Presbyterian, after the discipline of Calvin and Beza, who set it up, but nothing so rigid as either our Scots or English sectaries of that denomination. In the afternoon, Monsieur Morice, a most learned young person and excellent poet, chief Professor of the University, preached at St. Peter's, a spacious Gothic fabric. This was heretofore a cathedral and a reverend pile. It has four turrets, on one of which stands a continual sentinel; in another cannons are mounted. The church is very decent within; nor have they at all defaced the painted windows, which are full of pictures of saints; nor the stalls, which are all carved with the history of our Blessed Savior.
On Sunday, I heard Dr. Diodati preach in French, wearing a gown with a cape and his hat on. The church governance is strictly Presbyterian, following the rules of Calvin and Beza, who established it, but it's not as strict as either our Scottish or English sectarians of that branch. In the afternoon, Monsieur Morice, a highly knowledgeable young man and excellent poet, who is the chief professor at the university, preached at St. Peter's, a large Gothic structure. This used to be a cathedral and a revered building. It has four turrets, one of which has a constant guard, while another is equipped with cannons. The church is quite decent inside; they haven't damaged the stained glass windows, which are filled with images of saints, nor the pews, all of which are carved with the story of our Blessed Savior.
In the afternoon, I went to see the young townsmen exercise in Mars' Field, where the prizes were pewter-plates and dishes; 'tis said that some have gained competent estates by what they have thus won. Here I first saw huge ballistæ, or cross-bows, shot in, being such as they formerly used in wars, before great guns were known; they were placed in frames, and had great screws[Pg 239] to bend them, doing execution at an incredible distance. They were most accurate at the long-bow and musket, rarely missing the smallest mark. I was as busy with the carbine I brought from Brescia as any of them. After every shot, I found them go into a long house, and cleanse their guns, before they charged again.
In the afternoon, I went to watch the young townsmen practice in Mars' Field, where the prizes were pewter plates and dishes. It's said that some have built decent fortunes from what they’ve won this way. Here, I first saw massive crossbows, or ballistae, being used, similar to those used in battles before the invention of cannons. They were mounted in frames and had large screws to draw them back, capable of shooting with incredible accuracy over long distances. They were especially precise with the longbow and musket, rarely missing the smallest target. I was as engaged with the carbine I brought from Brescia as anyone there. After every shot, I noticed them going into a long building to clean their guns before reloading.
On Monday, I was invited to a little garden without the works, where were many rare tulips, anemones, and other choice flowers. The Rhone, running athwart the town out of the Lake, makes half the city a suburb, which, in imitation of Paris, they call St. Germain's Fauxbourg, and it has a church of the same name. On two wooden bridges that cross the river are several water-mills, and shops of trades, especially smiths and cutlers; between the bridges is an island, in the midst of which is a very ancient tower, said to have been built by Julius Cæsar. At the end of the other bridge is the mint, and a fair sun-dial.
On Monday, I was invited to a charming garden without any frills, filled with many rare tulips, anemones, and other beautiful flowers. The Rhone River, flowing through the town from the Lake, makes half the city feel like a suburb, which they’ve named St. Germain's Fauxbourg, after Paris. There's a church with the same name. Two wooden bridges cross the river, with several water mills and workshops, especially blacksmiths and knife makers. Between the bridges is an island with a very old tower, rumored to have been built by Julius Caesar. At the end of the other bridge, there’s the mint and a lovely sundial.
Passing again by the town-house, I saw a large crocodile hanging in chains; and against the wall of one of the chambers, seven judges were painted without hands, except one in the middle, who has but one hand; I know not the story. The Arsenal is at the end of this building, well furnished and kept.
Passing by the town-house again, I saw a large crocodile hanging in chains; and against the wall of one of the rooms, seven judges were painted without hands, except for one in the middle who has just one hand; I don't know the story behind it. The Arsenal is at the end of this building, well stocked and maintained.
After dinner Mr. Morice led us to the college, a fair structure; in the lower part are the schools, which consist of nine classes; and a hall above, where the students assemble; also a good library. They showed us a very ancient Bible, of about 300 years old, in the vulgar French, and a MS. in the old Monkish character: here have the Professors their lodgings. I also went to the Hospital, which is very commodious; but the Bishop's Palace is now a prison.
After dinner, Mr. Morice took us to the college, which is a nice building. The lower part has the schools, which are made up of nine classes, and there’s a hall above where the students gather, along with a good library. They showed us a very old Bible, around 300 years old, in common French, and a manuscript in an old monkish style. This is where the professors live. I also visited the hospital, which is quite comfortable, but the Bishop's Palace is now a prison.
This town is not much celebrated for beautiful women, for, even at this distance from the Alps, the gentlewomen have somewhat full throats; but our Captain Wray (afterward Sir William, eldest son of that Sir Christopher, who had both been in arms against his Majesty for the Parliament) fell so mightily in love with one of Monsieur Saladine's daughters that, with much persuasion, he could not be prevailed on to think on his journey into France, the season now coming on extremely hot.
This town isn’t really known for its beautiful women, as even at this distance from the Alps, the ladies have somewhat fuller necks. However, our Captain Wray (later Sir William, the eldest son of Sir Christopher, who had both fought against the King for the Parliament) fell so deeply in love with one of Monsieur Saladine's daughters that, despite a lot of persuasion, he couldn’t be convinced to continue his journey to France, especially with the hot season approaching.
My sickness and abode here cost me forty-five pistoles of[Pg 240] gold to my host, and five to my honest doctor, who for six weeks' attendance and the apothecary thought it so generous a reward that, at my taking leave, he presented me with his advice for the regimen of my health, written with his own hand in Latin. This regimen I much observed, and I bless God passed the journey without inconvenience from sickness, but it was an extraordinarily hot unpleasant season and journey, by reason of the craggy ways.
My illness and stay here cost me forty-five gold pistoles for my host, and five for my trustworthy doctor, who felt that after six weeks of care and the apothecary’s service, I was so generous that when I was leaving, he gave me his advice for maintaining my health, written in Latin in his own handwriting. I followed this advice closely, and I thank God that I completed the journey without any issues from my sickness, but it was an unusually hot and uncomfortable season for traveling, especially because of the rough paths.
5th July, 1646. We took, or rather purchased, a boat, for it could not be brought back against the stream of the Rhone. We were two days going to Lyons, passing many admirable prospects of rocks and cliffs, and near the town down a very steep declivity of water for a full mile. From Lyons, we proceeded the next morning, taking horse to Roanne, and lay that night at Feurs. At Roanne we indulged ourselves with the best that all France affords, for here the provisions are choice and plentiful, so as the supper we had might have satisfied a prince. We lay in damask beds, and were treated like emperors. The town is one of the neatest built in all France, on the brink of the Loire; and here we agreed with an old fisher to row us as far as Orleans. The first night we came as far as Nevers, early enough to see the town, the Cathedral (St. Cyre), the Jesuits' College, and the Castle, a palace of the Duke's, with the bridge to it nobly built.
5th July, 1646. We took, or rather bought, a boat, since it couldn’t be brought back against the current of the Rhone. It took us two days to reach Lyon, during which we enjoyed many stunning views of rocks and cliffs, and near the town we descended a very steep stretch of water for a full mile. The next morning, we continued by horseback to Roanne, spending the night in Feurs. In Roanne, we treated ourselves to the best that France has to offer, as the food here is both exquisite and abundant—our dinner would have satisfied a prince. We slept in damask beds and were treated like royalty. The town is one of the best-built in all of France, situated on the banks of the Loire; here we arranged with an old fisherman to row us all the way to Orleans. That first night, we made it as far as Nevers, early enough to explore the town, the Cathedral (St. Cyre), the Jesuits' College, and the Castle, a palace of the Duke’s, with its beautifully constructed bridge.
The next day we passed by La Charité, a pretty town, somewhat distant from the river. Here I lost my faithful spaniel Piccioli, who had followed me from Rome. It seems he had been taken up by some of the Governor's pages, or footmen, without recovery; which was a great displeasure to me, because the cur had many useful qualities.
The next day we passed by La Charité, a charming town a bit away from the river. It was here that I lost my loyal spaniel Piccioli, who had been with me since Rome. It seems he was picked up by some of the Governor's servants, and I couldn't get him back; this really upset me because the little guy had many great qualities.
The next day we arrived at Orleans, taking our turns to row, of which I reckon my share came to little less than twenty leagues. Sometimes, we footed it through pleasant fields and meadows; sometimes, we shot at fowls, and other birds; nothing came amiss: sometimes, we played at cards, while others sung, or were composing verses; for we had the great poet, Mr. Waller, in our company, and some other ingenious persons.
The next day we got to Orleans, taking turns rowing, which I estimate my part was just under twenty leagues. Sometimes, we walked through nice fields and meadows; other times, we hunted for birds; everything was enjoyable: occasionally, we played cards while others sang or wrote verses; we had the great poet, Mr. Waller, with us, along with some other talented people.
At Orleans we abode but one day; the next, leaving our mad Captain behind us, I arrived at Paris, rejoiced that, after so many disasters and accidents in a tedious[Pg 241] peregrination, I was gotten so near home, and here I resolved to rest myself before I went further.
At Orleans, we stayed for just one day; the next day, leaving our crazy Captain behind, I arrived in Paris, relieved that after so many mishaps and struggles during a long journey, I was so close to home. I decided to take a break here before continuing my travels.
It was now October, and the only time that in my whole life that I spent most idly, tempted from my more profitable recesses; but I soon recovered my better resolutions and fell to my study, learning the High Dutch and Spanish tongues, and now and then refreshing my dancing, and such exercises as I had long omitted, and which are not in much reputation among the sober Italians.
It was now October, and for the first time in my life, I found myself spending most of my time idly, distracted from my more productive pursuits; but I quickly got back to my better intentions and focused on my studies, learning German and Spanish, and every now and then refreshing my dancing and other activities I had neglected for a while, which aren't very popular among the serious Italians.
28th January, 1647. I changed my lodging in the Place de Monsieur de Metz, near the Abbey of St. Germains; and thence, on the 12th of February, to another in Rue Columbier, where I had a very fair apartment, which cost me four pistoles per month. The 18th, I frequented a course of Chemistry, the famous Monsieur Le Febure operating upon most of the nobler processes. March 3d, Monsieur Mercure began to teach me on the lute, though to small perfection.
28th January, 1647. I moved to a new place in the Place de Monsieur de Metz, close to the Abbey of St. Germain; and then, on the 12th of February, I relocated again to another spot on Rue Columbier, where I had a really nice apartment that cost me four pistoles a month. On the 18th, I started attending a chemistry course, with the renowned Monsieur Le Febure demonstrating many of the more advanced processes. On March 3rd, Monsieur Mercure began teaching me the lute, although I wasn’t very good at it.
In May, I fell sick, and had very weak eyes; for which I was four times let bleed.
In May, I got sick and had really weak eyesight, so I was bled four times.
22d May, 1647. My valet (Herbert) robbed me of clothes and plate, to the value of three score pounds; but, through the diligence of Sir Richard Browne, his Majesty's Resident at the Court of France, and with whose lady and family I had contracted a great friendship (and particularly set my affections on a daughter), I recovered most of them, obtaining of the Judge, with no small difficulty, that the process against the thief should not concern his life, being his first offense.
22nd May, 1647. My servant (Herbert) stole clothes and silver from me, worth sixty pounds; but, thanks to the efforts of Sir Richard Browne, the King's representative at the Court of France, with whom I had developed a strong friendship (and I particularly took a liking to his daughter), I managed to recover most of my belongings. I persuaded the Judge, with considerable difficulty, not to impose a death sentence on the thief since it was his first offense.
10th June, 1647. We concluded about my marriage, in order to which I went to St. Germains, where his Majesty, then Prince of Wales, had his court, to desire of Dr. Earle, then one of his chaplains (since Dean of Westminster, Clerk of the Closet, and Bishop of Salisbury), that he would accompany me to Paris, which he did; and, on Thursday, 27th of June, 1647, he married us in Sir Richard Browne's chapel, between the hours of eleven and twelve, some few select friends being present. And this being Corpus Christi feast, was solemnly observed in this country; the streets were sumptuously hung with tapestry, and strewed with flowers.
10th June, 1647. We made a decision about my marriage, and to follow through, I went to St. Germains, where his Majesty, then Prince of Wales, held his court. I asked Dr. Earle, who was one of his chaplains at the time (later becoming Dean of Westminster, Clerk of the Closet, and Bishop of Salisbury), to come with me to Paris, and he agreed. On Thursday, 27th of June, 1647, he married us in Sir Richard Browne's chapel, between eleven and twelve o'clock, with a few close friends present. Since it was the feast of Corpus Christi, the occasion was celebrated in this country; the streets were beautifully decorated with tapestries and covered in flowers.
10th September, 1647. Being called into England, to settle my affairs after an absence of four years, I took[Pg 242] leave of the Prince and Queen, leaving my wife, yet very young, under the care of an excellent lady and prudent mother.
10th September, 1647. Being summoned back to England to sort out my affairs after being away for four years, I said goodbye to the Prince and Queen, leaving my young wife in the care of a wonderful lady and wise mother.
4th October, 1647. I sealed and declared my will, and that morning went from Paris, taking my journey through Rouen, Dieppe, Ville-dieu, and St. Vallerie, where I stayed one day with Mr. Waller, with whom I had some affairs, and for which cause I took this circle to Calais, where I arrived on the 11th, and that night embarking in a packet boat, was by one o'clock got safe to Dover; for which I heartily put up my thanks to God who had conducted me safe to my own country, and been merciful to me through so many aberrations. Hence, taking post, I arrived at London the next day at evening, being the 2d of October, new style.
4th October, 1647. I signed and declared my will, and that morning left Paris, traveling through Rouen, Dieppe, Ville-dieu, and St. Vallerie, where I stayed for a day with Mr. Waller, with whom I had some business to attend to. That’s why I took this route to Calais, where I arrived on the 11th. That night, I boarded a packet boat and by one o'clock I safely reached Dover; for this, I genuinely thanked God for guiding me safely back to my homeland and being merciful to me through so many wanderings. From there, I took a post and arrived in London the following evening, which was the 2nd of October, new style.
5th October, 1647. I came to Wotton, the place of my birth, to my brother, and on the 10th to Hampton Court where I had the honor to kiss his Majesty's hand, and give him an account of several things I had in charge, he being now in the power of those execrable villains who not long after murdered him. I lay at my cousin, Sergeant Hatton's at Thames Ditton, whence, on the 13th, I went to London.
5th October, 1647. I arrived in Wotton, my birthplace, to visit my brother, and on the 10th, I went to Hampton Court where I had the honor of kissing the King's hand, and giving him a report on several matters I had been tasked with, even as he was now in the control of those despicable villains who would soon murder him. I stayed at my cousin, Sergeant Hatton's place in Thames Ditton, and on the 13th, I traveled to London.
14th October, 1647. To Sayes Court, at Deptford, in Kent (since my house), where I found Mr. Pretyman, my wife's uncle, who had charge of it and the estate about it, during my father-in-law's residence in France. On the 15th, I again occupied my own chambers in the Middle Temple.
14th October, 1647. To Sayes Court, at Deptford, in Kent (now my house), where I found Mr. Pretyman, my wife's uncle, who was in charge of it and the estate while my father-in-law was in France. On the 15th, I moved back into my own rooms in the Middle Temple.
9th November, 1647. My sister opened to me her marriage with Mr. Glanville.
9th November, 1647. My sister shared with me her marriage to Mr. Glanville.
14th January, 1647-48. From London I went to Wotton to see my young nephew; and thence to Baynards [in Ewhurst], to visit my brother Richard.
14th January, 1647-48. From London, I traveled to Wotton to visit my young nephew; and then to Baynards [in Ewhurst] to see my brother Richard.
5th February, 1648. Saw a tragi-comedy acted in the cockpit, after there had been none of these diversions for many years during the war.
5th February, 1648. Watched a tragicomedy performed in the cockpit, after not having any of these entertainments for many years due to the war.
28th February, 1648. I went with my noble friend, Sir William Ducy (afterward Lord Downe), to Thistleworth, where we dined with Sir Clepesby Crew, and afterward to see the rare miniatures of Peter Oliver, and rounds of plaster, and then the curious flowers of Mr. Barill's garden, who has some good medals and pictures.[Pg 243] Sir Clepesby has fine Indian hangings, and a very good chimney-piece of water colors, by Breughel, which I bought for him.
28th February, 1648. I went with my noble friend, Sir William Ducy (later Lord Downe), to Thistleworth, where we had lunch with Sir Clepesby Crew. After that, we checked out the rare miniatures by Peter Oliver and some plaster rounds, and then the interesting flowers in Mr. Barill's garden, who has some nice medals and paintings. [Pg 243] Sir Clepesby has beautiful Indian hangings and a really nice watercolor chimney piece by Breughel, which I bought for him.
26th April, 1648. There was a great uproar in London, that the rebel army quartering at Whitehall, would plunder the City, on which there was published a Proclamation for all to stand on their guard.
26th April, 1648. There was a huge commotion in London that the rebel army stationed at Whitehall would loot the City, leading to a Proclamation being issued for everyone to be on alert.
4th May, 1648. Came up the Essex petitioners for an agreement between his Majesty and the rebels. The 16th, the Surrey men addressed the Parliament for the same; of which some of them were slain and murdered by Cromwell's guards, in the new palace yard. I now sold the impropriation of South Malling, near Lewes, in Sussex, to Messrs. Kemp and Alcock, for £3,000.
4th May, 1648. The Essex petitioners came forward to seek an agreement between the king and the rebels. On the 16th, the men from Surrey addressed Parliament for the same purpose; some of them were killed by Cromwell's guards in the new palace yard. I just sold the rights to South Malling, near Lewes, in Sussex, to Messrs. Kemp and Alcock, for £3,000.
30th May, 1648. There was a rising now in Kent, my Lord of Norwich being at the head of them. Their first rendezvous was in Broome-field, next my house at Sayes Court, whence they went to Maidstone, and so to Colchester, where was that memorable siege.
30th May, 1648. There was a rebellion in Kent, with my Lord of Norwich leading. Their first meeting point was in Broome-field, near my house at Sayes Court, from where they headed to Maidstone and then to Colchester, where the significant siege took place.
27th June, 1648. I purchased the manor of Hurcott, in Worcestershire, of my brother George, for £3,300.
27th June, 1648. I bought the manor of Hurcott, in Worcestershire, from my brother George, for £3,300.
1st July, 1648. I sate for my picture, in which there is a Death's head, to Mr. Walker, that excellent painter.
1st July, 1648. I sat for my portrait, which includes a skull, with Mr. Walker, that great painter.
10th July, 1648. News was brought me of my Lord Francis Villiers being slain by the rebels near Kingston.
10th July, 1648. I was informed that my Lord Francis Villiers had been killed by the rebels near Kingston.
16th August, 1648. I went to Woodcote (in Epsom) to the wedding of my brother, Richard, who married the daughter and coheir of Esquire Minn, lately deceased; by which he had a great estate both in land and money on the death of a brother. The coach in which the bride and bridegroom were, was overturned in coming home; but no harm was done.
16th August, 1648. I went to Woodcote (in Epsom) for my brother Richard's wedding, where he married the daughter and coheir of the late Esquire Minn. He gained a great estate in land and money from the death of a brother. On their way home, the coach carrying the bride and groom was overturned, but luckily, no one was hurt.
28th August, 1648. To London from Sayes Court, and saw the celebrated follies of Bartholomew Fair.
28th August, 1648. From Sayes Court to London, and saw the famous attractions of Bartholomew Fair.
16th September, 1648. Came my lately married brother, Richard, and his wife, to visit me, when I showed them Greenwich, and her Majesty's Palace, now possessed by the rebels.
16th September, 1648. My recently married brother, Richard, and his wife came to visit me, and I showed them Greenwich and the Queen's Palace, which is now occupied by the rebels.
28th September, 1648. I went to Albury, to visit the Countess of Arundel, and returned to Wotton.
28th September, 1648. I went to Albury to visit the Countess of Arundel and then returned to Wotton.
31st October, 1648. I went to see my manor of Preston Beckhelvyn, and the Cliffhouse.
31st October, 1648. I went to check out my estate at Preston Beckhelvyn and the Cliffhouse.
29th November, 1648. Myself, with Mr. Thomas Offley,[Pg 244] and Lady Gerrard, christened my niece Mary, eldest daughter of my brother, George Evelyn, by my Lady Cotton, his second wife. I presented my niece a piece of plate which cost me £18, and caused this inscription to be set on it—
29th November, 1648. I, along with Mr. Thomas Offley,[Pg 244] and Lady Gerrard, baptized my niece Mary, the eldest daughter of my brother, George Evelyn, with my Lady Cotton, his second wife. I gave my niece a piece of silverware that cost me £18, and had the following inscription put on it—
In memoriam facti.
In memory of the deed.
Anno cIc Ix. xliix. Cal. Decem. viii. Virginum castiss: Xtianorum innocentis: Nept: suavis: Mariæ. Johan. Evelynus Avunculus et Susceptor Vasculum hoc cum Epigraphe L. M. Q. D.
In the year 1199, on the 4th of December. Eight pure Virgins: Innocent Christians: Sweet Neptune: Mary. John. Evelyn Uncle and Guardian This vessel with the inscription. L. M. Q. D.
Ave Maria Gratiâ sis plena; Dominus tecum.
Hail Mary, full of grace; the Lord is with you.
2d December, 1648. This day I sold my manor of Hurcott for £3,400 to one Mr. Bridges.
2nd December, 1648. Today I sold my manor of Hurcott for £3,400 to a Mr. Bridges.
13th December, 1648. The Parliament now sat up the whole night, and endeavored to have concluded the Isle of Wight Treaty; but were surprised by the rebel army; the members dispersed, and great confusion every where in expectation of what would be next.
13th December, 1648. The Parliament stayed up all night, trying to finalize the Isle of Wight Treaty; however, they were caught off guard by the rebel army. The members scattered, leading to widespread chaos as everyone wondered what would happen next.
17th December, 1648. I heard an Italian sermon, in Mercers' Chapel, one Dr. Middleton, an acquaintance of mine, preaching.
17th December, 1648. I listened to an Italian sermon at Mercers' Chapel, preached by Dr. Middleton, who is a friend of mine.
18th December, 1648. I got privately into the council of the rebel army, at Whitehall, where I heard horrid villanies.
18th December, 1648. I quietly entered the council of the rebel army at Whitehall, where I heard terrible deeds.
This was a most exceedingly wet year, neither frost nor snow all the winter for more than six days in all. Cattle died every where of a murrain.
This was an incredibly rainy year, with no frost or snow throughout the winter for more than six days total. Cattle everywhere died from a disease.
1st January, 1648-49. I had a lodging and some books at my father-in-law's house, Sayes Court.
1st January, 1648-49. I had a place to stay and some books at my father-in-law's house, Sayes Court.
2d January, 1649. I went to see my old friend and fellow-traveler, Mr. Henshaw, who had two rare pieces of Stenwyck's perspective.
2d January, 1649. I went to visit my old friend and travel companion, Mr. Henshaw, who had two rare pieces of Stenwyck's perspective.
17th January, 1649. To London. I heard the rebel, Peters, incite the rebel powers met in the Painted Chamber, to destroy his Majesty; and saw that archtraitor, Bradshaw, who not long after condemned him.
17th January, 1649. To London. I heard the rebel, Peters, encouraging the rebel forces gathered in the Painted Chamber to overthrow his Majesty; and I saw that archtraitor, Bradshaw, who soon afterward condemned him.
19th January, 1649. I returned home, passing an extraordinary danger of being drowned by our wherries falling foul in the night on another vessel then at anchor, shooting the bridge at three quarters' ebb, for which His mercy God Almighty be praised.
19th January, 1649. I came back home, narrowly escaping the risk of drowning when our boats collided with another ship that was anchored during the night, while we were navigating the bridge at three-quarters tide, for which I praise God Almighty for His mercy.
21st January, 1649. Was published my translation of Liberty and Servitude, for the preface of which I was severely threatened.[Pg 245]
21st January, 1649. I published my translation of Liberty and Servitude, for which I received serious threats in the preface.[Pg 245]
22d January, 1649. I went through a course of chemistry, at Sayes Court. Now was the Thames frozen over, and horrid tempests of wind.
22nd January, 1649. I attended a chemistry class at Sayes Court. The Thames was frozen over, and there were terrible storms.
The villany of the rebels proceeding now so far as to try, condemn, and murder our excellent King on the 30th of this month, struck me with such horror, that I kept the day of his martyrdom a fast, and would not be present at that execrable wickedness; receiving the sad account of it from my brother George, and Mr. Owen, who came to visit me this afternoon, and recounted all the circumstances.
The evil actions of the rebels, who went as far as to try, condemn, and murder our wonderful King on the 30th of this month, filled me with such horror that I observed the day of his martyrdom as a day of fasting and refused to witness that despicable act. I received the sad details from my brother George and Mr. Owen, who came to visit me this afternoon and shared all the circumstances.
1st February, 1649. Now were Duke Hamilton, the Earl of Norwich, Lord Capell, etc., at their trial before the rebels' New Court of Injustice.
1st February, 1649. Duke Hamilton, the Earl of Norwich, Lord Capell, and others were on trial before the rebels' New Court of Injustice.
15th February, 1649. I went to see the collection of one Trean, a rich merchant, who had some good pictures, especially a rare perspective of Stenwyck; from thence, to other virtuosos.
15th February, 1649. I went to check out the collection of a wealthy merchant named Trean, who had some impressive paintings, especially a rare perspective piece by Stenwyck; after that, I visited other art collectors.
The painter, La Neve has an Andromeda, but I think it a copy after Vandyke from Titian, for the original is in France. Webb, at the Exchange, has some rare things in miniature, of Breughel's, also Putti, in twelve squares, that were plundered from Sir James Palmer.
The painter, La Neve, has an Andromeda, but I think it’s a copy of Vandyke's version from Titian, since the original is in France. Webb, at the Exchange, has some rare miniature pieces by Breughel, along with Putti in twelve squares, which were taken from Sir James Palmer.
At Du Bois, we saw two tables of Putti, that were gotten, I know not how, out of the Castle of St. Angelo, by old Petit, thought to be Titian's; he had some good heads of Palma, and one of Stenwyck. Bellcar showed us an excellent copy of his Majesty's Sleeping Venus and the Satyr, with other figures; for now they had plundered, sold, and dispersed a world of rare paintings of the King's, and his loyal subjects. After all, Sir William Ducy showed me some excellent things in miniature, and in oil of Holbein's; Sir Thomas More's head, and a whole-length figure of Edward VI., which were certainly his Majesty's; also a picture of Queen Elizabeth; the Lady Isabella Thynne; a rare painting of Rothenhamer, being a Susanna; and a Magdalen, of Quintin, the blacksmith; also a Henry VIII., of Holbein; and Francis I., rare indeed, but of whose hand I know not.
At Du Bois, we saw two tables of Putti that were obtained, I don’t know how, from the Castle of St. Angelo by the old Petit, who is thought to be Titian's. He had some good heads of Palma and one of Stenwyck. Bellcar showed us an excellent copy of the King’s Sleeping Venus and the Satyr, along with other figures; they had plundered, sold, and scattered a lot of rare paintings belonging to the King and his loyal subjects. After all, Sir William Ducy showed me some impressive miniatures and oil paintings by Holbein, including Sir Thomas More's head and a full-length figure of Edward VI., which were definitely the King’s. There was also a picture of Queen Elizabeth, Lady Isabella Thynne, a rare painting of Rothenhamer featuring Susanna, and a Magdalen by Quintin the blacksmith; plus a Henry VIII. by Holbein, and a Francis I., which is quite rare, but I don’t know who painted it.
16th February, 1649. Paris being now strictly besieged by the Prince de Condé, my wife being shut up with her father and mother, I wrote a letter of consolation to her: and, on the 22d, having recommended Obadiah Walker,[Pg 246] a learned and most ingenious person, to be tutor to, and travel with, Mr. Hillyard's two sons, returned to Sayes Court.
16th February, 1649. With Paris now under strict siege by the Prince de Condé, and my wife locked away with her parents, I wrote her a letter to lift her spirits. On the 22nd, after suggesting Obadiah Walker,[Pg 246] a knowledgeable and very clever individual, to be a tutor for, and travel with, Mr. Hillyard's two sons, I returned to Sayes Court.
25th February, 1649. Came to visit me Dr. Joyliffe, discoverer of the lymphatic vessels, and an excellent anatomist.
25th February, 1649. Dr. Joyliffe, who discovered the lymphatic vessels and is an excellent anatomist, came to visit me.
26th February, 1649. Came to see me Captain George Evelyn, my kinsman, the great traveler, and one who believed himself a better architect than really he was; witness the portico in the Garden at Wotton; yet the great room at Albury is somewhat better understood. He had a large mind, but over-built everything.
26th February, 1649. Captain George Evelyn, my relative and the well-known traveler, came to visit me. He thought he was a better architect than he actually was; just look at the portico in the Garden at Wotton. However, the grand room at Albury is somewhat better designed. He had big ideas but ended up overdoing everything.
27th February, 1649. Came out of France my wife's uncle (Paris still besieged), being robbed at sea by the Dunkirk pirates: I lost, among other goods, my wife's picture, painted by Monsieur Bourdon.
27th February, 1649. My wife's uncle came out of France (Paris is still under siege), but he was robbed at sea by the Dunkirk pirates: I lost, among other things, my wife's portrait painted by Monsieur Bourdon.
5th March, 1649. Now were the Lords murdered in the Palace Yard.
5th March, 1649. Now the Lords were killed in the Palace Yard.
18th March, 1649. Mr. Owen, a sequestered and learned minister, preached in my parlor, and gave us the blessed Sacrament, now wholly out of use in the parish churches, on which the Presbyterians and fanatics had usurped.
18th March, 1649. Mr. Owen, a secluded and knowledgeable minister, preached in my living room and provided us with the blessed Sacrament, which is now completely unused in the parish churches, taken over by the Presbyterians and extremists.
21st March, 1649. I received letters from Paris from my wife, and from Sir Richard [Browne], with whom I kept up a political correspondence, with no small danger of being discovered.
21st March, 1649. I received letters from Paris from my wife and from Sir Richard [Browne], with whom I maintained a political correspondence, risking being discovered.
25th March, 1649. I heard the Common Prayer (a rare thing in these days) in St. Peter's, at Paul's Wharf, London; and, in the morning, the Archbishop of Armagh, that pious person and learned man, Usher, in Lincoln's-Inn Chapel.
25th March, 1649. I attended the Common Prayer (which is a rare occurrence these days) at St. Peter's, near Paul's Wharf, London; and, in the morning, the Archbishop of Armagh, that devout and knowledgeable man, Usher, held services at Lincoln's-Inn Chapel.
2d April, 1649. To London, and inventoried my movables that had hitherto been dispersed for fear of plundering: wrote into France, touching my sudden resolutions of coming over to them. On the 8th, again heard an excellent discourse from Archbishop Usher, on Ephes. 4, v. 26-27.
2nd April, 1649. Went to London and took stock of my belongings that had previously been scattered out of fear of looting: wrote to France about my sudden decision to come over to them. On the 8th, I heard a great talk from Archbishop Usher on Ephesians 4:26-27.
My Italian collection being now arrived, came Moulins, the great chirurgeon, to see and admire the Tables of Veins and Arteries, which I purchased and caused to be drawn out of several human bodies at Padua.
My Italian collection has now arrived, and Moulins, the great surgeon, came to see and admire the tables of veins and arteries that I purchased and had drawn from several human bodies in Padua.
11th April, 1649. Received news out of France that peace was concluded; dined with Sir Joseph Evelyn, at[Pg 247] Westminster; and on the 13th I saw a private dissection at Moulins's house.
11th April, 1649. I received word from France that peace had been agreed upon; I had dinner with Sir Joseph Evelyn, at[Pg 247] Westminster; and on the 13th, I witnessed a private dissection at Moulins's house.
17th April, 1649. I fell dangerously ill of my head; was blistered and let bleed behind the ears and forehead: on the 23d, began to have ease by using the fumes of camomile on embers applied to my ears, after all the physicians had done their best.
17th April, 1649. I became seriously ill with my head; I was blistered and had blood taken from behind my ears and forehead: on the 23rd, I started to feel better by using chamomile fumes on hot coals applied to my ears, after all the doctors had done their best.
29th April, 1649. I saw in London a huge ox bred in Kent, 17 feet in length, and much higher than I could reach.
29th April, 1649. I saw in London a massive ox raised in Kent, 17 feet long, and much taller than I could reach.
12th May, 1649. I purchased the manor of Warley Magna, in Essex: in the afternoon went to see Gildron's collections of paintings, where I found Mr. Endymion Porter, of his late Majesty's bedchamber.
12th May, 1649. I bought the manor of Warley Magna in Essex; in the afternoon, I went to check out Gildron's collection of paintings, where I met Mr. Endymion Porter from the late King's bedchamber.
17th May, 1649. Went to Putney by water, in the barge with divers ladies, to see the schools, or colleges, of the young gentlewomen.
17th May, 1649. Took a boat to Putney with several ladies to visit the schools or colleges for young women.
19th May, 1649. To see a rare cabinet of one Delabarr, who had some good paintings, especially a monk at his beads.
19th May, 1649. To check out a unique cabinet belonging to a guy named Delabarr, who had some nice paintings, particularly one of a monk with his beads.
30th May, 1649. Unkingship was proclaimed, and his Majesty's statues thrown down at St. Paul's Portico, and the Exchange.
30th May, 1649. The end of kingship was announced, and the statues of his Majesty were toppled at St. Paul's Portico and the Exchange.
7th June, 1649. I visited Sir Arthur Hopton38 (brother to Sir Ralph, Lord Hopton, that noble hero), who having been Ambassador extraordinary in Spain, sojourned some time with my father-in-law at Paris, a most excellent person. Also Signora Lucretia, a Greek lady, whom I knew in Italy, now come over with her husband, an English gentleman. Also, the Earl and Countess of Arundel, taking leave of them and other friends now ready to depart for France. This night was a scuffle between some rebel soldiers and gentlemen about the Temple.
7th June, 1649. I visited Sir Arthur Hopton38 (brother of Sir Ralph, Lord Hopton, that noble hero), who had been an extraordinary ambassador in Spain and spent some time with my father-in-law in Paris, a truly remarkable person. I also saw Signora Lucretia, a Greek lady I had met in Italy, who is now here with her husband, an English gentleman. Additionally, I encountered the Earl and Countess of Arundel, saying goodbye to them and other friends who are getting ready to leave for France. That night, there was a fight between some rebel soldiers and gentlemen near the Temple.
June 10th, 1649. Preached the Archbishop of Armagh in Lincoln's-Inn, from Romans 5, verse 13. I received the blessed Sacrament, preparatory to my journey.
June 10th, 1649. The Archbishop of Armagh preached at Lincoln's Inn from Romans 5, verse 13. I received the blessed Sacrament to prepare for my journey.
13th June, 1649. I dined with my worthy friend, Sir John Owen, newly freed from sentence of death among the lords that suffered. With him was one Carew, who played incomparably on the Welsh harp; afterward I treated divers ladies of my relations, in Spring Garden.[Pg 248]
13th June, 1649. I had dinner with my good friend, Sir John Owen, who had just been released from a death sentence among the nobles who were executed. With him was a musician named Carew, who played the Welsh harp incredibly well; afterward, I entertained several lady relatives of mine in Spring Garden.[Pg 248]
This night was buried with great pomp, Dorislaus, slain at the Hague, the villain who managed the trial against his sacred Majesty.
This night was marked with great ceremony, Dorislaus, killed at the Hague, the bastard who handled the trial against his sacred Majesty.
17th June, 1649. I got a pass from the rebel Bradshaw, then in great power.
17th June, 1649. I received a pass from the rebel Bradshaw, who was in a position of great power at the time.
20th June, 1649. I went to Putney, and other places on the Thames, to take prospects in crayon, to carry into France, where I thought to have them engraved.
20th June, 1649. I went to Putney and other locations along the Thames to sketch scenes in crayon, intending to take them to France for engraving.
2d July, 1649. I went from Wotton to Godstone (the residence of Sir John Evelyn), where was also Sir John Evelyn of Wilts., when I took leave of both Sir Johns and their ladies. Mem. the prodigious memory of Sir John of Wilts' daughter, since married to Mr. W. Pierrepont, and mother of the present Earl of Kingston. I returned to Sayes Court this night.
2nd July, 1649. I traveled from Wotton to Godstone (the home of Sir John Evelyn), where I also saw Sir John Evelyn of Wilts. I said goodbye to both Sir Johns and their wives. I remember the incredible memory of Sir John of Wilts' daughter, who is now married to Mr. W. Pierrepont and is the mother of the current Earl of Kingston. I returned to Sayes Court tonight.
4th July, 1649. Visited Lady Hatton, her lord sojourning at Paris with my father-in-law.
4th July, 1649. Visited Lady Hatton, her husband staying in Paris with my father-in-law.
9th July, 1649. Dined with Sir Walter Pye, and my good friend, Mr. Eaton, afterward a judge, who corresponded with me in France.
9th July, 1649. Had dinner with Sir Walter Pye and my good friend, Mr. Eaton, who later became a judge and exchanged letters with me while I was 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.
11th July, 1649. Old Alexander Rosse, the divine historian and poet, came to see me; Mr. Henshaw, Mr. Scudamore, and other friends came by to say goodbye.
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 passage, 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 Hoare, 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[Pg 249] with the guards, let us pass 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 Assumption. The citadel seems to be impregnable, and the whole country about it to be laid under water by sluices for many miles.
12th July, 1649. It was around three in the afternoon when I took a boat to Gravesend, accompanied by my cousin, Stephens, and my sister, Glanville, who joined me for dinner there before heading back. From there, I immediately took a coach to Dover, arriving by nine in the morning. Later that night, around eleven, I boarded a ship protected by a small boat with eight cannons; this was the first time the Packet-boat had received a convoy, as it had been stolen multiple times before. We had a smooth journey, although we were chased for several hours by a pirate; however, he didn't dare to attack our frigate, and we chased him until he took refuge under the castle at Calais. The pirate was a small privateer owned by the Prince of Wales. I brought along my servant, Richard Hoare, a remarkable scribe skilled in various scripts, whom I later appointed at the Prerogative Office upon the return of His Majesty. Lady Catherine Scott, daughter of the Earl of Norwich, followed us in a small boat, accompanied by Mr. Arthur Slingsby, who left England discreetly. At the entrance of the town, the Lieutenant Governor, mounted on his horse alongside the guards, let us pass politely. I visited Sir Richard Lloyd, an English gentleman, and walked through the church, where the decoration around the high altar made of black marble is quite beautiful, and there's a good painting of the Assumption. The citadel appears to be impregnable, and the surrounding area seems to be flooded 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.
16th July, 1649. We left Paris, along with the lovely Lady Catherine Scott and a few others. During the whole trip, we were quite worried about groups we might encounter, which made us frequently get out of the coach and walk separately on foot, carrying our guns on our shoulders, in all the areas we found suspect.
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.
1st August, 1649. At three in the afternoon, we arrived at St. Denis, checked out the unique items in the church and treasury, and then headed 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.
The next day, the Lord High Treasurer Cottington, Sir Edward Hyde, the Chancellor, Sir Edward Nicholas, the Secretary of State, Sir George Carteret, the Governor of Jersey, and Dr. Earle came to welcome me at dinner, after I had now been away from my wife for more than 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 mistress39 and mother to the Duke of Monmouth, a brown, beautiful, bold, but insipid creature.
18th August, 1649. I went to St. Germains to kiss the King’s hand; in the coach, which belonged to Lord Wilmot, was Mrs. Barlow, the King’s mistress39 and mother of the Duke of Monmouth, a stunning, confident, yet uninteresting woman.
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.
19th August, 1649. I went to greet 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, now known as 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 Condé. Returning to Paris, we went to see the President Maison's palace, built cas[Pg 250]tle-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 noble 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.
7th September, 1649. I went with my wife and dear cousin to St. Germains, and kissed the Queen Mother’s hand; we had lunch with my Lord Keeper and Lord Hatton. Several of the prominent figures of France came to see the King. The next day, the Prince of Condé arrived. On our way back to Paris, we visited President Maison's palace, which is built like a castle out of fine milk-white freestone; the house isn’t huge, but it’s well designed, especially the staircase, and the decorations of Putti around it. It is surrounded by a dry moat, with the service areas underground, and the gardens are excellent, featuring extraordinary long paths lined with elms and a beautiful view toward the forest and over the Seine toward Paris. All things considered—the meadows, paths, river, forest, farmland, and vineyards—I hardly saw anything in Italy that could top it. The iron gates are quite magnificent. He has even demolished an entire village to make space for his pleasure grounds.
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.
12th September, 1649. Dr. Crighton, a Scotsman and one of the King’s chaplains, a knowledgeable Greek scholar who outlined the Council of Florence, delivered a sermon.
13th September, 1649. The King invited the Prince of Condé 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.
13th September, 1649. The King invited the Prince of Condé to dinner at St. Cloud; there I kissed the Duke of York's hand in the tennis court, where I watched a famous match between Monsieur Saumeurs and Colonel Cooke, and then returned to Paris. It was rumored that I was knighted, an honor I often turned down.
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 superstitious anchorite at Mount Calvary, and so to Paris.
1st October, 1649. I went with my cousin Tuke (later Sir Samuel) to check out the fountains of St. Cloud and Ruel; and after lunch, we talked with the unfortunate, naïve, and superstitious hermit at Mount Calvary, then headed to Paris.
2d October, 1649. Came Mr. William Coventry (afterward Sir William) and the Duke's secretary, etc., to visit me.
2d October, 1649. Mr. William Coventry (later Sir William) came to visit me along with the Duke's secretary and others.
5th October, 1649. Dined with Sir George Ratcliffe, the great favorite of the late Earl of Stratford, formerly Lord Deputy of Ireland, decapitated.
5th October, 1649. Had dinner with Sir George Ratcliffe, the close associate of the late Earl of Stratford, who was previously the Lord Deputy of Ireland and was beheaded.
7th October, 1649. To the Louvre, to visit the Countess of Moreton, governess to Madame.
7th October, 1649. I went to the Louvre to visit the Countess of Moreton, who is the 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.
15th October, 1649. We heard that the rebels had taken Drogheda and that everyone there was killed, which made us very sad, foreshadowing the loss of all of 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.
21st October, 1649. I went to hear Dr. d'Avinson's lecture in the botanical garden and check out his lab, as he is the head of that amazing garden and a botany professor.
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[Pg 251] 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, Gassion, 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.
30th October, 1649. I attended the funeral of Mr. Downes, a respectable English gentleman. We took his body to Charenton, where he was buried in a[Pg 251] cabbage garden, yet with the church service held earlier in our chapel in Paris. While there, I also saw the burial site of the great soldier, Gassion, who has a tomb built over him resembling a fountain, though the design and materials were quite plain. I returned to Paris with Sir Philip Musgrave and Sir Marmaduke Langdale, since Lord Langdale.—Memorandum. This autumn was very unhealthy and deadly.
5th November, 1649. I received divers letters out of England, requiring me to come over about settling some of my concerns.
5th November, 1649. I received several letters from England, urging me to come over to sort out some of my matters.
7th November, 1649. Dr. George Morley (since Bishop of Winchester) preached in our chapel on Matthew 4, verse 3.
7th November, 1649. Dr. George Morley (later 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.
18th November, 1649. I went with my father-in-law to see his audience at the French Court, where, just after the Pope's Nuncio, he was introduced by the master of ceremonies. After presenting his credentials from our King, since his father's murder, he was warmly received by the King of France and his mother, with whom he had a lengthy meeting. This took place 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 illustrious 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 spacious as to contain a noble 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[Pg 252] home in Prince Edward's coach with Mr. Paul, the Prince Elector's agent.
After this, I was introduced to His Majesty and the Queen Regent, and then I went to see the house built by the late great Cardinal de Richelieu. The most noticeable feature is the gallery, adorned with portraits of the most distinguished individuals and significant events in France, with countless emblems between each painting. In the center of the gallery is a lovely chapel, beautifully paved with various types of marble, in addition to the altar piece and two white marble statues, one of St. John and the other of the Virgin Mary, created by Bernini. The rest of the rooms are finely gilded and carved, with some impressive modern paintings. Hanging in the room are three large crystal chandeliers. In the French King’s bedroom, there’s an alcove that feels like another room, set like a movable box, featuring a richly embroidered bed. The building of the palace isn’t grand, consisting of just two stories; however, the garden is so spacious that it includes a grand basin and a fountain that’s always running, along with a tree-lined path that has a curve to extend the walk. So I left His Majesty on the terrace, occupied watching a bull-baiting event, and headed 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.
19th November, 1649. I visited Mr. Waller, where I met Dr. Holden, an English scholar from Sorbonne, and we ended up having a conversation 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 glass is well painted, and the tapestry hung up this day about the choir, representing the conversion of Constantine, was exceedingly rich.
28th December, 1649. While waiting for Mr. Waller, I took a look at St. Stephen's Church. The building, although Gothic, is richly detailed with carvings. Inside, it’s beautiful, especially the choir and the winding stairs. The stained glass is well-designed, and the tapestry displayed today around the choir, depicting the conversion of Constantine, was exceptionally luxurious.
I went to that excellent engraver, Du Bosse, for his instruction about some difficulties in perspective which were delivered in his book.
I went to the great engraver, Du Bosse, to get his advice on some challenges in perspective that he discussed in his book.
I concluded this year in health, for which I gave solemn thanks to Almighty God.40
I finished this year in good health, for which I sincerely thanked Almighty God.40
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.
29th December, 1649. I baptized Sir Hugh Rilie's child with Sir George Radcliffe in our chapel, as the parents were so poor that they had arranged for no godparents. Since several of us were drawing lots, it ended up being me, with the Dean of Peterborough (Dr. Cousin) officiating: we named the child Andrew, as it was 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.
1st January, 1649-50. I started this Jubilee with a public service in our chapel: had lunch at Lady Herbert's, the wife of Sir Edward Herbert, who later became Lord Keeper.
18th January, 1650. This night was the Prince of Condé and his brother carried prisoners to the Bois de Vincennes.
18th January, 1650. Tonight, the Prince of Condé and his brother were taken as 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.
6th February, 1650. In the evening, Signor Alessandro, one of Cardinal Mazarin's musicians and a well-known expert in that field, came to visit my wife and performed for several distinguished guests in my room.
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.
1st March, 1650. I went to see the masked performers, which was really amazing; but nothing felt as calm and serious as I experienced in Venice.
13th March, 1650. Saw a triumph in Monsieur del Camp's Academy, where divers of the French and English noblesse, especially my Lord of Ossory, and Richard, sons to the Marquis of Ormond (afterward Duke), did[Pg 253] their exercises on horseback in noble equipage, before a world of spectators and great persons, men and ladies. It ended in a collation.
13th March, 1650. I witnessed a celebration at Monsieur del Camp's Academy, where several French and English nobles, especially my Lord of Ossory and Richard, sons of the Marquis of Ormond (later Duke), showcased their horseback skills in splendid attire, in front of a large audience of distinguished guests, both men and women. It concluded with a feast.
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.
25th April, 1650. I went out of town to check out Madrid, a palace built by Francis I. It's notable for its open architectural style, featuring many terraces and galleries stacked on top of each other all the way to the roof, and for its materials, which are mostly earth painted to look like porcelain or China, with colors that seem very bright but are quite delicate. There are entire statues and reliefs made from this pottery, along with fireplace mantels and columns both inside and outside. Under the chapel, there's a chimney in the middle of a room separated from the Salle des Gardes. The house is protected by a deep ditch and has a stunning view of the Bois de Boulogne and the 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.
30th April, 1650. I went to check out the collection of the famous sculptor, Steffano de la Bella, who was returning to Italy, and bought some prints; I also visited Perelle, the landscape engraver.
3d May, 1650. At the hospital of La Charité 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 God hearty thanks that I had not been subject to this deplorable infirmity.
3rd May, 1650. At the hospital of La Charité, I witnessed the operation for removing a stone. A child about eight or nine years old had the procedure and showed remarkable patience, expressing great joy when the stone was taken out. I took this as an opportunity to sincerely thank God that I had not been afflicted with this terrible condition.
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 butter; 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[Pg 254] 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 Nôtre 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 assaulted; but when he saw the King's officers, the gentlemen and noblemen, 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 assist and meet us on horseback, and would fain have alarmed the town we received the affront from: which, with much ado, we prevented.
7th May, 1650. I went with Lady Browne, my wife, the Earl of Chesterfield, Lord Ossory, and his brother to Vamber, a place near the city known for butter. On our way back, while walking, a disagreement broke out between Lord Ossory and a man in a garden, who rudely pushed Lord Ossory away from the gate. Our young companions hit the guy on the head and told him to apologize, which he did with much humility, and then we split up. But we hadn't gone far before we heard a commotion behind us and saw people coming at us with guns, swords, sticks, and forks, throwing stones as they followed. We turned around and had to fight back. With our swords, stones, and the help of our servants (one of whom had a pistol), we managed to retreat for almost a quarter of a mile before taking shelter in a house, where we were besieged and eventually forced to accept being taken prisoner. Lord Hatton and a few others were captured during the escape, and he was locked up with three locks and as many doors in the house of this rude man's master, who claimed to be the steward for Monsieur St. Germain, one of the presidents of the Grand Chamber of Parliament, and a Canon of Notre Dame. Several of us were quite hurt. One of our servants managed to escape to Paris and got the bailiff of St. Germain to come with his guards and rescue us. Soon after, Monsieur St. Germain himself arrived, furious upon hearing that his housekeeper had been attacked; but when he saw the King's officers, the gentlemen and noblemen, and understood the situation, he was embarrassed about what happened. He asked for the man’s pardon and invited the ladies to accept his apology and a dinner at his house. It was ten o'clock at night by the time we reached Paris, escorted by Prince Griffith (a Welsh hero going by that name, well-known in England for his antics), along with students from two academies who came out to help us and wanted to alert the town where we had the incident, which we managed to prevent after some effort.
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 Thuanus [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.
12th May, 1650. After a complaint was brought to the Queen and the Court of France about the insult we’d received, the President was instructed to apologize to Sir R. Browne, the King’s Resident, and for the other party to submit and be dismissed. Accompanying him was President de Thou, son of the famous Thuanus [the historian], and everything was settled. However, I have often heard the brave gentleman, my Lord Ossory, state with conviction that in all the battles he fought at sea or on land (in the most desperate situations of both, which he often faced), he never felt so much danger as when these people turned against us. He used to refer to it as the bataile de Vambre and recall it with much laughter as an adventure, en cavalier.
24th May, 1650. We were invited by the Noble Academies to a running at the ring where were many brave horses, gallants, and ladies, my Lord Stanhope entertaining us with a collation.
24th May, 1650. We were invited by the Noble Academies to a race at the ring where there were many fine horses, gentlemen, and ladies, with my Lord Stanhope treating us to refreshments.
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[Pg 255] 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 God; 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.
12th June, 1650. On Trinity Sunday, the Dean of Peterborough delivered a sermon; after which, there was an ordination of two ministers, Durell and Brevent (one later became Dean of Windsor, the other of Durham, both very knowledgeable individuals). The Bishop of Galloway officiated with great seriousness, following a heartfelt and insightful speech about the significance and honor of their role, especially in this difficult time for the Church of England. He highlighted the nobility of their calling, focused on the salvation of souls and the glory of God; he shared many examples illustrating the fleeting nature and emptiness of other types of prestige. He stated that none of the victories won by Roman conquerors could compare to that of our Blessed Savior, who triumphed by leading captivity captive and giving gifts to humanity, particularly the Holy Spirit, with which his devoted ministers conquer Satan every time they guide a sinner away from error. He then moved on to the ordination. They were presented by the Dean in their white robes before the altar, with the Bishop seated in a chair to one side; thus, they were both ordained as Deacons and Priests at the same time, due to the pressing circumstances, as there were so few Bishops left in England, posing a risk of losing both roles. Finally, they moved on to the Communion. All of this took place in Sir Richard Browne's chapel in 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.
13th June, 1650. I sat for the famous sculptor, Nanteuil, who was later knighted by the French King for his art. He engraved my portrait in copper. Later on, he gifted me my own picture, created entirely with his pen; a remarkable 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 Titus, incomparably drawn by Monsieur St. Clere himself; two boys and three skeletons, molded by Fiamingo; a book[Pg 256] 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.
21st June, 1650. I went to see the Samaritan, or pump, at the end of the Pont Neuf, which, although it may not seem impressive at first glance, is full of countless rarities in both art and nature, aside from the machine itself; especially the expensive grotto, home to the most beautiful corals, growing right out of the rock, that I've ever seen; along with large pieces of crystals, amethysts, gold in its raw form, and other metals and marcasites, including two large shells, which the owner told us cost him 200 crowns in Amsterdam. He showed us many landscapes and scenes, painted in miniature, some using pen and crayon; various antiquities and reliefs from Rome; most notably, the interior of the amphitheater of Titus, which was exceptionally drawn by Monsieur St. Clere himself; two boys and three skeletons, sculpted by Fiamingo; a book[Pg 256] of statues, made with pen for Henry IV., skillfully done, which reveals many mistakes in Perrier's taille-douce, who added several ideas of his own that aren't in the originals. He also has an endless collection of taille-douces, beautifully 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 brass; the looking-glass and stands rarely carved. In a word, all was great, choice, and magnificent, and not to be passed 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.
He took us into a grand room that seemed fit for a prince, filled with artwork from the greatest masters, especially a Venus by Perino del Vaga; the cherubs carved into the fireplace by a Flemish artist; porcelain vases, some designed by Raphael; paintings by Poussin and Fioravanti; antique brass pieces; and beautifully carved mirrors and stands. In short, everything was impressive, carefully selected, and magnificent, not to be overlooked as I had often done, unaware that such rare treasures were hidden in that place. On a later visit, he showed us a new grotto and a bathing area, carved through the battlements of the arches of Pont Neuf into a large vault, letting the coaches and horses rumble above our heads.
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 passage 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.
June 27, 1650. I made my will, and after saying goodbye to my wife and friends, rode to England, paying the messenger eight pistoles for me and my servant to Calais. I set out with seventeen companions, all well-armed, including some Portuguese, Swiss, and French, six of whom were captains and officers. We reached Beaumont the first night; the next day, we went to Beauvais and stayed at Pois, and the following day, without stopping for lunch, we arrived in Abbeville. Then we had lunch in Montreuil, and as we continued, we encountered a group on foot (now within the territories troubled by bands that pose serious dangers on this route from St. Omers and the borders), and we prepared to charge through them, led by a captain from our group. However, as we got closer, they called out and turned out to be Scotsmen, newly raised and landed, with few of them armed. That night, we were treated well in Boulogne. The next day, we marched in good order, as the passage was now extremely dangerous, and arrived in Calais shortly after two. The sun scorched my face so much that my skin started to peel off.
I dined with Mr. Booth, his Majesty's agent; and, about three in the afternoon, embarked in the packet-[Pg 257]boat; hearing there was a pirate then also setting sail, we had security from molestation, and so with a fair S. W. wind in seven hours we landed at Dover. The busy watchman would have us to the mayor to be searched, but the gentleman being in bed, we were dismissed.
I had lunch with Mr. Booth, the king's agent; and, around three in the afternoon, I got on the packet-[Pg 257]boat. Since we heard there was a pirate also heading out, we felt safe from trouble, and with a nice southwest wind, we arrived in Dover in seven hours. The eager watchman wanted us to go to the mayor for a search, but since the gentleman was in bed, we were let go.
Next day, being Sunday, they would not permit us to ride post, so that afternoon our trunks were visited.
Next day, which was Sunday, they wouldn't let us ride post, so that afternoon our trunks were checked.
The next morning, by four, we set out for Canterbury, where I met with my Lady Catherine Scott, whom that very day twelve months before I met at sea going for France; she had been visiting Sir Thomas Peyton, not far off, and would needs carry me in her coach to Gravesend. We dined at Sittingbourne, came late to Gravesend, and so to Deptford, taking leave of my lady about four the next morning.
The next morning, around four, we headed out for Canterbury, where I met Lady Catherine Scott, whom I had encountered exactly a year ago at sea on my way to France; she had been visiting Sir Thomas Peyton nearby and insisted on giving me a ride in her coach to Gravesend. We had lunch in Sittingbourne, arrived late in Gravesend, and then went to Deptford, saying goodbye to my lady around four the following morning.
5th July, 1650. I supped in the city with my Lady Catherine Scott, at one Mr. Dubois, where was a gentlewoman called Everard, who was a very great chemist.
5th July, 1650. I had dinner in the city with Lady Catherine Scott, at Mr. Dubois's place, where there was a woman named Everard, who was a very skilled chemist.
Sunday 7th July, 1650. In the afternoon, having a mind to see what was doing among the Rebels, then in full possession at Whitehall, I went thither, and found one at exercise in the chapel, after their way; thence, to St. James's, where another was preaching in the court abroad.
Sunday, July 7, 1650. In the afternoon, wanting to see what was happening among the Rebels, who were fully in control at Whitehall, I went there and found one person practicing in the chapel, in their usual manner; then I went to St. James’s, where another was preaching in the courtyard outside.
17th July, 1650. I went to London to obtain a pass,41 intending but a short stay in England.
17th July, 1650. I went to London to get a pass,41 intending to stay in England for only a short time.
25th July, 1650. I went by Epsom to Wotton, saluting Sir Robert Cook and my sister Glanville; the country was now much molested by soldiers, who took away gentlemen's horses for the service of the state, as then called.[Pg 258]
25th July, 1650. I passed through Epsom on my way to Wotton, greeting Sir Robert Cook and my sister Glanville; the area was heavily troubled by soldiers, who were taking gentlemen's horses for what they called the service of the state.[Pg 258]
4th August, 1650. I heard a sermon at the Rolls; and, in the afternoon, wandered to divers churches, the pulpits full of novices and novelties.
4th August, 1650. I listened to a sermon at the Rolls; and, in the afternoon, I explored different churches, the pulpits crowded with novices and new ideas.
6th August, 1650. To Mr. Walker's, a good painter, who showed me an excellent copy of Titian.
6th August, 1650. To Mr. Walker's, a talented painter, who showed me a great replica of Titian.
12th August, 1650. Set out for Paris, taking post at Gravesend, and so that night to Canterbury, where being surprised by the soldiers, and having only an antiquated pass, with some fortunate dexterity I got clear of them though not without extraordinary hazard, having before counterfeited one with success, it being so difficult to procure one of the rebels without entering into oaths, which I never would do. At Dover, money to the searchers and officers was as authentic as the hand and seal of Bradshawe himself, where I had not so much as my trunk opened.
12th August, 1650. I headed out for Paris, starting at Gravesend, and that night I made it to Canterbury. There, I was taken by surprise by some soldiers, and with only an old pass, I managed to slip away from them through some clever maneuvering, though it was extremely risky. I had previously faked a pass successfully, as it was hard to get a genuine one from the rebels without making oaths, which I refused to do. At Dover, money given to the searchers and officers was as good as Bradshawe’s own signature; my trunk wasn’t even searched.
13th August, 1650. At six in the evening, set sail for Calais; the wind not favorable, I was very sea-sick, coming to an anchor about one o'clock; about five in the morning, we had a long boat to carry us to land, though at a good distance; this we willingly entered, because two vessels were chasing us; but, being now almost at the harbor's mouth, through inadvertency there broke in upon us two such heavy seas, as had almost sunk the boat, I being near the middle up in water. Our steersman, it seems, apprehensive of the danger, was preparing to leap into the sea and trust to swimming, but seeing the vessel emerge, he put her into the pier, and so, God be thanked! we got to Calais, though wet.
13th August, 1650. At six in the evening, we set sail for Calais; the wind wasn't in our favor, and I got really seasick, finally anchoring around one o'clock. By five in the morning, we had a small boat to take us to shore, even though it was quite a distance; we gladly got in because two ships were chasing us. But just as we were almost at the harbor, we were hit by two enormous waves that nearly capsized the boat, leaving me almost submerged. Our steersman, sensing the danger, was about to jump into the sea and try to swim, but seeing the ship come up, he steered us into the pier, and thankfully! we made it to Calais, even though we were wet.
Here I waited for company, the passage toward Paris being still infested with volunteers from the Spanish frontiers.
Here I waited for company, the road to Paris still crowded with volunteers from the Spanish frontiers.
16th August, 1650. The Regiment of Picardy, consisting of about 1,400 horse and foot (among them was a captain whom I knew), being come to town, I took horses for myself and servant, and marched under their protection to Boulogne. It was a miserable spectacle to see how these tattered soldiers pillaged the poor people of their sheep, poultry, corn, cattle, and whatever came in their way; but they had such ill pay, that they were ready themselves to starve.
16th August, 1650. The Picardy Regiment, made up of around 1,400 cavalry and infantry (including a captain I knew), arrived in town, so I got horses for myself and my servant and traveled under their protection to Boulogne. It was a sad sight to watch these ragged soldiers rob the poor people of their sheep, chickens, grain, cattle, and anything else they could find; they were so poorly paid that they were on the brink of starving themselves.
As we passed St. Denis, the people were in uproar, the guards doubled, and everybody running with their[Pg 259] movables to Paris, on an alarm that the enemy was within five leagues of them; so miserably exposed was even this part of France at this time.
As we went by St. Denis, there was chaos; the guards were doubled, and everyone was rushing with their[Pg 259] belongings to Paris because of a warning that the enemy was just five leagues away; this part of France was incredibly vulnerable at that time.
The 30th, I got to Paris, after an absence of two months only.
The 30th, I arrived in Paris after being away for just two months.
1st September, 1650. My Lady Herbert invited me to dinner; Paris, and indeed all France, being full of loyal fugitives.
1st September, 1650. Lady Herbert invited me to dinner; Paris, and all of France, is filled with loyal refugees.
Came Mr. Waller to see me, about a child of his which the Popish midwife had baptized.
Mr. Waller came to see me about a child of his that the Catholic midwife had baptized.
15th October, 1650. Sir Thomas Osborne (afterward Lord Treasurer) and Lord Stanhope shot for a wager of five louis, to be spent on a treat; they shot so exact that it was a drawn match.
15th October, 1650. Sir Thomas Osborne (later Lord Treasurer) and Lord Stanhope shot for a bet of five louis to be spent on a meal; they shot so accurately that it ended in a tie.
1st November, 1650. Took leave of my Lord Stanhope, going on his journey toward Italy; also visited my Lord Hatton, Comptroller of his Majesty's Household, the Countess of Morton, Governess to the Lady Henrietta, and Mrs. Gardner, one of the Queen's maids of honor.
1st November, 1650. Said goodbye to my Lord Stanhope, who is heading on his journey to Italy; also visited my Lord Hatton, Comptroller of the King's Household, the Countess of Morton, Governess to Lady Henrietta, and Mrs. Gardner, one of the Queen's maids of honor.
6th November, 1650. Sir Thomas Osborne supping with us, his groom was set upon in the street before our house, and received two wounds, but gave the assassin nine, who was carried off to the Charité Hospital. Sir Thomas went for England on the 8th, and carried divers letters for me to my friends.
6th November, 1650. Sir Thomas Osborne was having dinner with us when his groom was attacked in the street outside our house and got wounded twice, but he managed to injure the attacker nine times before the assailant was taken to the Charité Hospital. Sir Thomas left for England on the 8th, taking several letters for me to my friends.
16th November, 1650. I went to Monsieur Visse's, the French King's Secretary, to a concert of French music and voices, consisting of twenty-four, two theorbos, and but one bass viol, being a rehearsal of what was to be sung at vespers at St. Cecilia's, on her feast, she being patroness of Musicians. News arrived of the death of the Princess of Orange of the smallpox.
16th November, 1650. I went to Monsieur Visse's, the French King's Secretary, for a concert of French music and voices, featuring twenty-four singers, two theorbos, and just one bass viol, which was a rehearsal for what would be sung at vespers at St. Cecilia's on her feast day, as she is the patroness of Musicians. News came in about the death of the Princess of Orange from smallpox.
14th December, 1650. I went to visit Mr. Ratcliffe, in whose lodging was an imposter that had liked to have imposed upon us a pretended secret of multiplying gold; it is certain he had lived some time in Paris in extraordinary splendor, but I found him to be an egregious cheat.
14th December, 1650. I went to visit Mr. Ratcliffe, where there was a con artist trying to fool us with a fake secret for turning base metals into gold; it's true he had lived in Paris for a while in remarkable luxury, but I realized he was a huge fraud.
22d December, 1650. Came the learned Dr. Boet to visit me.
22nd December, 1650. The knowledgeable Dr. Boet came to visit me.
31st December, 1650. I gave God thanks for his mercy and protection the past year, and made up my accounts, which came this year to 7,015 livres, near £600 sterling.
31st December, 1650. I thanked God for His mercy and protection over the past year, and I settled my accounts, which amounted to 7,015 livres, nearly £600 sterling.
1st January, 1650-51. I wrote to my brother at Wotton,[Pg 260] about his garden and fountains. After evening prayer, Mr. Wainsford called on me: he had long been Consul at Aleppo, and told me many strange things of those countries, the Arabs especially.
1st January, 1650-51. I wrote to my brother at Wotton,[Pg 260] about his garden and fountains. After evening prayer, Mr. Wainsford visited me; he had been Consul at Aleppo for a long time, and shared many interesting stories about those countries, especially the Arabs.
27th January, 1651. I had letters of the death of Mrs. Newton, my grand-mother-in-law; she had a most tender care of me during my childhood, and was a woman of extraordinary charity and piety.
27th January, 1651. I received news about the death of Mrs. Newton, my grandmother-in-law; she took such tender care of me during my childhood and was a woman of remarkable kindness and devotion.
29th January, 1651. Dr. Duncan preached on 8 Matt. v. 34, showing the mischief of covetousness. My Lord Marquis of Ormonde and Inchiquin, come newly out of Ireland, were this day at chapel.
29th January, 1651. Dr. Duncan preached on Matthew 8:34, highlighting the dangers of greed. My Lord Marquis of Ormonde and Inchiquin, who had just come from Ireland, were at chapel today.
9th February, 1651. Cardinal Mazarin was proscribed by Arrêt du Parlement, and great commotions began in Paris.
9th February, 1651. Cardinal Mazarin was banned by a ruling from the Parliament, and significant turmoil erupted in Paris.
23d February, 1651. I went to see the Bonnes Hommes, a convent that has a fair cloister painted with the lives of hermits; a glorious altar now erecting in the chapel; the garden on the rock with divers descents, with a fine vineyard, and a delicate prospect toward the city.
23d February, 1651. I went to visit the Bonnes Hommes, a convent that has a beautiful cloister decorated with paintings of the lives of hermits; a magnificent altar currently being built in the chapel; a garden on the rock with various levels, featuring a lovely vineyard and a delightful view of the city.
24th February, 1651. I went to see a dromedary, a very monstrous beast, much like the camel, but larger. There was also dancing on the rope; but, above all, surprising to those who were ignorant of the address, was the water-spouter, who, drinking only fountain-water, rendered out of his mouth in several glasses all sorts of wine and sweet waters. For a piece of money he discovered the secret to me. I waited on Friar Nicholas at the convent at Chaillot, who, being an excellent chemist, showed me his laboratory, and rare collection of spagyrical remedies. He was both physician and apothecary of the convent, and, instead of the names of his drugs, he painted his boxes and pots with the figure of the drug, or simple, contained in them. He showed me as a rarity some ☿ of antimony. He had cured Monsieur Senatin of a desperate sickness, for which there was building a monumental altar that was to cost £1,500.
24th February, 1651. I went to see a dromedary, a very strange animal, similar to a camel but bigger. There was also tightrope dancing; but what amazed those who didn't know better was the water-spouter, who, drinking only fountain water, poured out various kinds of wine and sweet waters from his mouth into several glasses. For a small fee, he shared the secret with me. I visited Friar Nicholas at the convent in Chaillot, who, being an excellent chemist, showed me his lab and his rare collection of alchemical remedies. He was both the doctor and the pharmacist of the convent, and instead of labeling his drugs, he painted the containers with images of the ingredients inside. He proudly showed me some antimony. He had cured Monsieur Senatin of a serious illness, for which a monumental altar was being built that was set to cost £1,500.
11th March, 1651. I went to the Châtelet, or prison, where a malefactor was to have the question, or torture, given to him, he refusing to confess the robbery with which he was charged, which was thus: they first bound his wrist with a strong rope, or small cable, and one end of it to an iron ring made fast to the wall, about[Pg 261] four feet from the floor, and then his feet with another cable, fastened about five feet further than his utmost length to another ring on the floor of the room. Thus suspended, and yet lying but aslant, they slid a horse of wood under the rope which bound his feet, which so exceedingly stiffened it, as severed the fellow's joints in miserable sort, drawing him out at length in an extraordinary manner, he having only a pair of linen drawers on his naked body. Then, they questioned him of a robbery (the lieutenant being present and a clerk that wrote), which not confessing, they put a higher horse under the rope, to increase the torture and extension. In this agony, confessing nothing, the executioner with a horn (just such as they drench horses with) stuck the end of it into his mouth, and poured the quantity of two buckets of water down his throat and over him, which so prodigiously swelled him, as would have pitied and affrighted any one to see it; for all this, he denied all that was charged to him. They then let him down, and carried him before a warm fire to bring him to himself, being now to all appearance dead with pain. What became of him, I know not; but the gentleman whom he robbed constantly averred him to be the man, and the fellow's suspicious pale looks, before he knew he should be racked, betrayed some guilt; the lieutenant was also of that opinion, and told us at first sight (for he was a lean, dry, black young man) he would conquer the torture; and so it seems they could not hang him, but did use in such cases, where the evidence is very presumptive, to send them to the galleys, which is as bad as death.
March 11, 1651. I went to the Châtelet, or prison, where a criminal was about to be tortured for refusing to confess to the robbery he was accused of. Here’s how it went: they first tied his wrist with a strong rope, attaching one end to an iron ring secured in the wall, about four feet off the ground. Then they secured his feet with another rope, fastened to a ring on the floor, which was five feet further than his maximum reach. Suspended and lying at an angle, they slid a wooden horse under the rope binding his feet, which stiffened it so much that it painfully dislocated his joints, stretching him out in a terrible manner, leaving him with only a pair of linen drawers on his bare body. They questioned him about the robbery (with the lieutenant and a clerk present), and when he refused to confess, they placed a larger horse under the rope to escalate the torture. In that agony, refusing to say anything, the executioner used a horn, like the ones they use to douse horses, shoved it in his mouth, and poured two buckets of water down his throat and over him, which made him swell up so much that it would have shocked and horrified anyone to see it; despite all that, he denied the charges against him. They let him down and brought him to a warm fire to revive him, as he appeared to be on the verge of death from the pain. I don’t know what happened to him afterward, but the man he robbed insisted he was the one, and the suspect’s pale, guilty look before he knew he was going to be tortured gave him away. The lieutenant agreed; upon first seeing him (he was a lean, wiry young man), he suspected he would break under the torture. It seems they couldn’t hang him, so in such cases, where the evidence is very strong, they would send them to the galleys, which is almost as bad as death.
There was another malefactor to succeed, but the spectacle was so uncomfortable, that I was not able to stay the sight of another. It represented yet to me the intolerable sufferings which our Blessed Savior must needs undergo, when his body was hanging with all its weight upon the nails on the cross.
There was another criminal about to be executed, but the scene was so disturbing that I couldn't bear to watch another. It reminded me of the unbearable agony our Blessed Savior had to endure while his body was hanging with all its weight on the nails of the cross.
20th March, 1651. I went this night with my wife to a ball at the Marquis de Crevecœur's, where were divers princes, dukes, and great persons; but what appeared to me very mean was, that it began with a puppet-play.
20th March, 1651. I went tonight with my wife to a ball at the Marquis de Crevecœur's, where there were various princes, dukes, and important people; but what struck me as quite ridiculous was that it started with a puppet show.
6th May, 1651. I attended the ambassador to a masque at Court, where the French King in person danced five entries, but being engaged in discourse, and better enter[Pg 262]tained with one of the Queen-Regent's secretaries, I soon left the entertainment.
6th May, 1651. I went with the ambassador to a masquerade at Court, where the French King himself danced five performances. However, I got caught up in conversation and enjoyed talking to one of the Queen-Regent's secretaries, so I left the event early.
11th May, 1651. To the Palace Cardinal, where the Master of the Ceremonies placed me to see the royal masque, or opera. The first scene represented a chariot of singers composed of the rarest voices that could be procured, representing Cornaro42 and Temperance; this was overthrown by Bacchus and his revelers; the rest consisted of several entries and pageants of excess, by all the elements. A masque representing fire was admirable; then came a Venus out of the clouds. The conclusion was a heaven, whither all ascended. But the glory of the masque was the great persons performing in it, the French King, his brother the Duke of Anjou, with all the grandees of the Court, the King performing to the admiration of all. The music was twenty-nine violins, vested à l'antique, but the habits of the masquers were stupendously rich and glorious.
11th May, 1651. At the Palace Cardinal, where the Master of Ceremonies arranged for me to watch the royal masque, or opera. The first scene featured a chariot of singers with the most exquisite voices possible, representing Cornaro42 and Temperance; this was interrupted by Bacchus and his party-goers. The rest included various entries and displays of extravagance, embodying all the elements. A depiction of fire was spectacular; then came Venus descending from the clouds. The finale was a heaven to which everyone ascended. But the highlight of the masque was the notable figures participating, including the French King, his brother the Duke of Anjou, and all the high-ranking nobles of the Court, with the King performing to everyone's admiration. The music featured twenty-nine violins dressed à l'antique, while the costumes of the masquers were incredibly lavish and magnificent.
23d May, 1651. I went to take leave of the ambassadors for Spain, which were my Lord Treasurer Cottington and Sir Edward Hyde; and, as I returned, I visited Mr. Morine's garden, and his other rarities, especially corals, minerals, stones, and natural curiosities; crabs of the Red Sea, the body no bigger than a small bird's egg, but flatter, and the two legs, or claws, a foot in length. He had abundance of shells, at least 1,000 sorts, which furnished a cabinet of great price; and had a very curious collection of scarabees and insects, of which he was compiling a natural history. He had also the pictures of his choice flowers and plants in miniature. He told me there were 10,000 sorts of tulips only. He had taille-douces out of number; the head of the rhinoceros bird, which was very extravagant, and one butterfly resembling a perfect bird.
23rd May, 1651. I went to say goodbye to the ambassadors from Spain, my Lord Treasurer Cottington and Sir Edward Hyde; and as I was coming back, I stopped by Mr. Morine's garden to check out his other wonders, especially corals, minerals, stones, and natural curiosities; crabs from the Red Sea, which were no bigger than a small bird's egg but flatter, with two legs or claws about a foot long. He had an abundance of shells, at least 1,000 different types, which made up a very valuable collection; and he also had a fascinating collection of scarabs and insects, which he was putting together for a natural history project. He had miniature paintings of his favorite flowers and plants as well. He told me there were 10,000 different types of tulips alone. He had countless taille-douces; the head of a rhinoceros bird, which was quite extravagant, and one butterfly that looked just like a perfect bird.
25th May, 1651. I went to visit Mr. Thomas White, a learned priest and famous philosopher,43 author of the book "De Mundo," with whose worthy brother I was well[Pg 263] acquainted at Rome. I was shown a cabinet of Maroquin, or Turkey leather, so curiously inlaid with other leather, and gilding, that the workman demanded for it 800 livres.
25th May, 1651. I went to visit Mr. Thomas White, a knowledgeable priest and well-known philosopher,43 author of the book "De Mundo," whose respected brother I knew well in Rome. I was shown a cabinet made of Maroquin, or Turkey leather, so intricately inlaid with other leathers and gold that the craftsman asked for 800 livres.
The Dean (of Peterborough) preached on the feast of Pentecost, perstringing those of Geneva for their irreverence of the Blessed Virgin.
The Dean of Peterborough preached on the feast of Pentecost, criticizing the people of Geneva for their disrespect towards the Blessed Virgin.
4th June, 1651. Trinity Sunday, I was absent from church in the afternoon on a charitable affair for the Abbess of Bourcharvant, who but for me had been abused by that chemist, Du Menie. Returning, I stepped into the Grand Jesuits, who had this high day exposed their Cibarium, made all of solid gold and imagery, a piece of infinite cost. Dr. Croydon, coming out of Italy and from Padua, came to see me, on his return to England.
4th June, 1651. Trinity Sunday, I didn't make it to church in the afternoon because I was helping the Abbess of Bourcharvant, who had been mistreated by that chemist, Du Menie. On my way back, I visited the Grand Jesuits, who showcased their Cibarium for this special day, made entirely of solid gold and intricate designs, a piece worth a fortune. Dr. Croydon, who was returning from Italy and Padua, came to see me on his way back to England.
5th June, 1651. I accompanied my Lord Strafford, and some other noble persons, to hear Madam Lavaran sing, which she did both in French and Italian excellently well, but her voice was not strong.
5th June, 1651. I went with my Lord Strafford and a few other noble people to listen to Madam Lavaran sing, and she performed excellently in both French and Italian, although her voice wasn't very strong.
7th June, 1651. Corpus Christi Day, there was a grand procession, all the streets tapestried, several altars erected there, full of images, and other rich furniture, especially that before the Court, of a rare design and architecture. There were abundance of excellent pictures and great vases of silver.
7th June, 1651. Corpus Christi Day, there was a big procession, all the streets decorated, several altars set up, filled with images and other fancy items, especially the one in front of the Court, which had a unique design and architecture. There were plenty of beautiful paintings and large silver vases.
13th June, 1651. I went to see the collection of one Monsieur Poignant, which for variety of agates, crystals, onyxes, porcelain, medals, statues, relievos, paintings, taille-douces, and antiquities, might compare with the Italian virtuosos.
13th June, 1651. I went to check out the collection of a guy named Monsieur Poignant, which, with its variety of agates, crystals, onyxes, porcelain, medals, statues, reliefs, paintings, taille-douces, and antiques, could compete with the Italian masters.
21st June, 1651. I became acquainted with Sieur William Curtius, a very learned and judicious person of the Palatinate. He had been a scholar to Alstedius, the Encyclopedist, was well advanced in years, and now Resident for his Majesty at Frankfort.
21st June, 1651. I met Sieur William Curtius, a highly knowledgeable and wise individual from the Palatinate. He had studied under Alstedius, the Encyclopedist, was quite a bit older, and was currently serving as a representative for his Majesty in Frankfurt.
2d July, 1651. Came to see me the Earl of Strafford, Lord Ossory and his brother, Sir John Southcott, Sir Edward Stawell, two of my Lord Spencer's sons, and Dr. Stewart, Dean of St. Paul's, a learned and pious man, where we entertained the time upon several subjects, especially the affairs of England, and the lamentable condition of our Church. The Lord Gerrard also called to see my collection of sieges and battles.
2nd July, 1651. The Earl of Strafford, Lord Ossory and his brother, Sir John Southcott, Sir Edward Stawell, two of Lord Spencer's sons, and Dr. Stewart, the Dean of St. Paul's, a knowledgeable and devout man, came to visit me. We spent the time discussing various topics, especially the state of England and the unfortunate situation of our Church. Lord Gerrard also stopped by to see my collection of sieges and battles.
21st July, 1651. An extraordinary fast was celebrated in our Chapel, Dr. Stewart, Dean of St. Paul's, preaching.[Pg 264]
21st July, 1651. An extraordinary fast was held in our Chapel, with Dr. Stewart, the Dean of St. Paul's, delivering the sermon.[Pg 264]
2d August, 1651. I went with my wife to Conflans, where were abundance of ladies and others bathing in the river; the ladies had their tents spread on the water for privacy.
2nd August, 1651. I went with my wife to Conflans, where there were plenty of ladies and others swimming in the river; the ladies had their tents set up on the water for privacy.
29th August, 1651. Was kept as a solemn fast for the calamities of our poor Church, now trampled on by the rebels. Mr. Waller, being at St. Germains, desired me to send him a coach from Paris, to bring my wife's goddaughter to Paris, to be buried by the Common Prayer.
29th August, 1651. This day was observed as a solemn fast for the troubles facing our poor Church, now oppressed by the rebels. Mr. Waller, who was at St. Germains, asked me to send him a coach from Paris to bring my wife's goddaughter to Paris, so she could be buried according to the Common Prayer.
6th September, 1651. I went with my wife to St. Germains, to condole with Mr. Waller's loss. I carried with me and treated at dinner that excellent and pious person the Dean of St. Paul's, Dr. Stewart, and Sir Lewis Dives (half-brother to the Earl of Bristol), who entertained us with his wonderful escape out of prison in Whitehall, the very evening before he was to have been put to death, leaping down out of a jakes two stories high into the Thames at high water, in the coldest of winter, and at night; so as by swimming he got to a boat that attended for him, though he was guarded by six musketeers. After this, he went about in women's habit, and then in a small-coal-man's, traveling 200 miles on foot, embarked for Scotland with some men he had raised, who coming on shore were all surprised and imprisoned on the Marquis of Montrose's score; he not knowing anything of their barbarous murder of that hero. This he told us was his fifth escape, and none less miraculous; with this note, that the charging through 1,000 men armed, or whatever danger could befall a man, he believed could not more confound and distract a man's thoughts than the execution of a premeditated escape, the passions of hope and fear being so strong. This knight was indeed a valiant gentleman; but not a little given to romance, when he spoke of himself. I returned to Paris the same evening.
6th September, 1651. I went with my wife to St. Germains to express our condolences for Mr. Waller's loss. I brought along and treated at dinner the excellent and devout Dean of St. Paul's, Dr. Stewart, and Sir Lewis Dives (half-brother to the Earl of Bristol), who entertained us with his remarkable escape from Whitehall prison, just the night before he was supposed to be executed. He leaped down from a toilet two stories high into the Thames at high tide, in the coldest part of winter, and at night; by swimming, he managed to reach a boat that was waiting for him, despite being guarded by six musketeers. After that, he disguised himself as a woman, and then as a small-coal man, traveling 200 miles on foot. He set out for Scotland with some men he had gathered, but when they landed, they were all captured and imprisoned due to the actions of the Marquis of Montrose, unaware of their brutal murder of that hero. He told us this was his fifth escape, each equally miraculous; noting that charging through a thousand armed men or facing any danger could not disrupt a man's thoughts as much as executing a premeditated escape, with the feelings of hope and fear being so intense. This knight was indeed a brave gentleman but had a tendency to romanticize his own stories. I returned to Paris the same evening.
7th September, 1651. I went to visit Mr. Hobbes, the famous philosopher of Malmesbury, with whom I had long acquaintance. From his window we saw the whole equipage and glorious cavalcade of the young French Monarch, Louis XIV., passing to Parliament, when first he took the kingly government on him, now being in his[Pg 265] 14th year, out of his minority and the Queen Regent's pupilage. First came the captain of the King's Aids, at the head of 50, richly liveried; next, the Queen-Mother's Light Horse, 100, the lieutenant being all over covered with embroidery and ribbons, having before him four trumpets habited in black velvet, full of lace, and casques of the same. Then, the King's Light Horse, 200, richly habited, with four trumpets in blue velvet embroidered with gold, before whom rode the Count d'Olonne coronet [cornet], whose belt was set with pearl. Next went the grand Prévôt's company on foot, with the Prévôt on horseback; after them, the Swiss in black velvet toques, led by two gallant cavaliers habited in scarlet-colored satin, after their country fashion, which is very fantastic; he had in his cap a pennach of heron, with a band of diamonds, and about him twelve little Swiss boys, with halberds. Then, came the Aide des Cérémonies; next, the grandees of court, governors of places and lieutenants-general of provinces, magnificently habited and mounted; among whom I must not forget the Chevalier Paul, famous for many sea-fights and signal exploits there, because it is said he had never been an Academist, and yet governed a very unruly horse, and besides his rich suit his Malta Cross was esteemed at 10,000 crowns. These were headed by two trumpets, and the whole troop, covered with gold, jewels, and rich caparisons, were followed by six trumpets in blue velvet also, preceding as many heralds in blue velvet semée with fleurs-de-lis, caduces in their hands, and velvet caps on their heads; behind them, came one of the masters of the ceremonies; then, divers marshals and many of the nobility, exceeding splendid; behind them Count d'Harcourt, grand Ecuyer, alone, carrying the King's sword in a scarf, which he held up in a blue sheath studded with fleurs-de-lis; his horse had for reins two scarfs of black taffeta.
7th September, 1651. I went to visit Mr. Hobbes, the famous philosopher from Malmesbury, whom I've known for a long time. From his window, we watched the entire procession and magnificent parade of the young French Monarch, Louis XIV, passing by on his way to Parliament, marking the beginning of his rule as king at just 14 years old, having come out of his minority and the Queen Regent's guardianship. First, we saw the captain of the King's Aids, leading 50 richly dressed attendants; next was the Queen-Mother's Light Horse, 100 strong, with the lieutenant adorned all over in embroidery and ribbons, leading four trumpeters dressed in black velvet, decorated with lace and helmets of the same material. Then came the King's Light Horse, 200 in number, elegantly outfitted, with four trumpeters in blue velvet embroidered with gold, ahead of whom rode the Count d'Olonne, whose belt was adorned with pearls. Following them was the grand Prévôt's foot company, with the Prévôt mounted on horseback; after whom came the Swiss wearing black velvet hats, led by two gallant gentlemen dressed in scarlet satin, in their traditional and very elaborate fashion; one of them wore a heron feather in his cap surrounded by diamonds, accompanied by twelve little Swiss boys with halberds. Next was the Aide des Cérémonies; then the grand nobility, including governors and lieutenants-general of provinces, all magnificently dressed and mounted; among them was the Chevalier Paul, well-known for numerous naval battles and remarkable feats, who reportedly had never been an Academist yet managed to control a very unruly horse, and in addition to his lavish outfit, his Malta Cross was valued at 10,000 crowns. They were preceded by two trumpeters, and the whole procession, glittering with gold, jewels, and fine decorations, was followed by six trumpeters in blue velvet as well, leading several heralds in blue velvet scattered with fleurs-de-lis, holding caduceus in their hands, and wearing velvet caps; behind them came one of the masters of ceremonies; then various marshals and many members of the nobility, exceptionally splendid; after them came Count d'Harcourt, the grand Ecuyer, alone carrying the King's sword in a scarf, which he raised in a blue sheath adorned with fleurs-de-lis; his horse was guided by two black taffeta scarves.
Then came abundance of footmen and pages of the King, new-liveried with white and red feathers; next, the garde du corps and other officers; and lastly, appeared the King himself on an Isabella barb, on which a housing semee, with crosses of the Order of the Holy Ghost, and fleurs-de-lis; the King himself, like a young Apollo, was in a suit so covered with rich embroidery, that one could perceive nothing of the stuff under it; he went almost[Pg 266] the whole way with his hat in hand, saluting the ladies and acclamators, who had filled the windows with their beauty, and the air with Vive le Roi. He seemed a prince of a grave yet sweet countenance. After the King, followed divers great persons of the Court, exceeding splendid, also his esquires; masters of horse, on foot; then the company of Exempts des Gardes, and six guards of Scotch. Between their files were divers princes of the blood, dukes, and lords; after all these, the Queen's guard of Swiss, pages, and footmen; then, the Queen-Mother herself, in a rich coach, with Monsieur the King's brother, the Duke of Orleans, and some other lords and ladies of honor. About the coach, marched her Exempts des Gardes: then the company of the King's Gens d'armes, well mounted, 150, with four trumpets, and as many of the Queen's; lastly, an innumerable company of coaches full of ladies and gallants. In this equipage, passed the monarch to the Parliament, henceforth exercising his kingly government.
Then came a bunch of footmen and pages of the King, dressed in new white and red feather outfits; next, the bodyguards and other officers appeared; and finally, the King himself rode in on a beautiful horse, adorned with a decorative blanket featuring crosses of the Order of the Holy Ghost and fleurs-de-lis. The King, looking like a young Apollo, wore a suit so richly embroidered that you couldn't see the fabric underneath. He rode most of the way with his hat in hand, greeting the ladies and spectators who filled the windows with their beauty and filled the air with "Vive le Roi." He had a serious yet pleasant expression. After the King came several high-ranking people from the Court, looking very splendid, along with his attendants; horse masters on foot; then the group of Exempts des Gardes and six Scottish guards. Among their ranks were various princes, dukes, and lords; after all these, the Queen's guard of Swiss, pages, and footmen followed; then the Queen Mother herself, in a lavish coach, with Monsieur the King’s brother, the Duke of Orleans, and some other lords and ladies of honor. Surrounding her coach were her Exempts des Gardes; then came the King's Gens d'armes, well mounted, 150 in total, with four trumpets and just as many from the Queen’s. Finally, an endless procession of coaches filled with ladies and gentlemen followed. In this grand procession, the monarch made his way to the Parliament, beginning to exercise his kingly authority.
15th September, 1651. I accompanied Sir Richard Browne, my father-in-law, to the French Court, when he had a favorable audience of the French King, and the Queen, his mother; congratulating the one on his coming to the exercise of his royal charge, and the other's prudent and happy administration during her late regency, desiring both to preserve the same amity for his master, our King, as they had hitherto done, which they both promised, with many civil expressions and words of course upon such occasions. We were accompanied both going and returning by the Introductor of Ambassadors and Aid of Ceremonies. I also saw the audience of Morosini, the Ambassador of Venice, and divers other Ministers of State from German Princes, Savoy, etc. Afterward I took a walk in the King's gardens, where I observed that the mall goes the whole square there of next the wall, and bends with an angle so made as to glance the wall; the angle is of stone. There is a basin at the end of the garden fed by a noble fountain and high jetto. There were in it two or three boats, in which the King now and then rows about. In another part is a complete fort, made with bastions, graft, half-moons, ravelins, and furnished with great guns cast on purpose to instruct the King in fortification.[Pg 267]
15th September, 1651. I went with Sir Richard Browne, my father-in-law, to the French Court, where he had a positive audience with the French King and his mother, the Queen. We congratulated the King on taking up his royal duties and praised the Queen for her wise and successful rule during her recent regency. We expressed our hope that they would continue to maintain the good relationship with our King, and they both assured us they would, with many polite words and typical formalities for such occasions. We were accompanied both ways by the Ambassador's Introductor and the Ceremonial Assistant. I also witnessed the audience of Morosini, the Ambassador from Venice, along with several other State Ministers from German princes, Savoy, and others. Afterwards, I strolled through the King's gardens, where I noticed that the mall runs all the way around the square next to the wall, curving at an angle designed to reflect off the wall; the angle is made of stone. At the end of the garden, there’s a basin fed by a grand fountain shooting water high into the air. There were two or three boats in it that the King occasionally uses for rowing. In another area, there is a complete fort featuring bastions, a moat, half-moons, ravelins, and equipped with large cannons specifically cast to teach the King about fortifications.[Pg 267]
22d September, 1651. Arrived the news of the fatal battle at Worcester, which exceedingly mortified our expectations.
22nd September, 1651. We received news of the devastating battle at Worcester, which greatly crushed our hopes.
28th September, 1651. I was shown a collection of books and prints made for the Duke of York.
28th September, 1651. I was shown a set of books and prints created for the Duke of York.
1st October, 1651. The Dean of Peterborough [Dr. Cosin] preached on Job xiii., verse 15, encouraging our trust in God on all events and extremities, and for establishing and comforting some ladies of great quality, who were then to be discharged from our Queen-Mother's service unless they would go over to the Romish Mass.
1st October, 1651. The Dean of Peterborough [Dr. Cosin] preached on Job xiii., verse 15, encouraging our trust in God in all situations and difficulties, and to support and comfort some high-status ladies, who were about to be released from our Queen-Mother's service unless they agreed to attend the Roman Catholic Mass.
The Dean, dining this day at our house, told me the occasion of publishing those Offices, which among the Puritans were wont to be called Cosin's cozening Devotions, by way of derision. At the first coming of the Queen into England, she and her French ladies were often upbraiding our religion, that had neither appointed nor set forth any hours of prayer, or breveries, by which ladies and courtiers, who have much spare time, might edify and be in devotion, as they had. Our Protestant ladies, scandalized it seems at this, moved the matter to the King; whereupon his Majesty presently called Bishop White to him and asked his thoughts of it, and whether there might not be found some forms of prayer proper on such occasions, collected out of some already approved forms, that so the court ladies and others (who spent much time in trifling) might at least appear as devout, and be so too, as the new-come-over French ladies, who took occasion to reproach our want of zeal and religion. On which, the Bishop told his Majesty that it might be done easily, and was very necessary; whereupon the King commanded him to employ some person of the clergy to compile such a Work, and presently the Bishop naming Dr. Cosin, the King enjoined him to charge the Doctor in his name to set about it immediately. This the Dean told me he did; and three months after, bringing the book to the King, he commanded the Bishop of London to read it over, and make his report; this was so well liked, that (contrary to former custom of doing it by a chaplain) he would needs give it an imprimatur under his own hand. Upon this there were at first only 200 copies printed; nor, said he, was there anything in the whole book of my own composure, nor did I set any[Pg 268] name as author to it, but those necessary prefaces, etc., out of the Fathers, touching the times and seasons of prayer; all the rest being entirely translated and collected out of an Office published by authority of Queen Elizabeth, anno 1560, and our own Liturgy. This I rather mention to justify that industrious and pious Dean, who had exceedingly suffered by it, as if he had done it of his own head to introduce Popery, from which no man was more averse, and one who in this time of temptation and apostacy held and confirmed many to our Church.
The Dean, who was having dinner at our house today, explained to me the reason behind publishing those Offices, which the Puritans mockingly referred to as Cosin's deceitful Devotions. When the Queen first arrived in England, she and her French ladies frequently criticized our religion for not having set times for prayer or any devotional texts that would help ladies and courtiers—who have plenty of free time—be more pious, like they did. This seemed to scandalize our Protestant ladies, who then took the issue to the King. As a result, his Majesty called Bishop White to discuss it and asked for his opinion on whether there could be some prayer forms put together from already approved prayers for such occasions, so that the court ladies and others (who often wasted time) could at least seem devout and actually be so, unlike the newly arrived French ladies who criticized us for lacking zeal and devotion. The Bishop assured his Majesty that it could be easily done and was quite necessary. Consequently, the King instructed him to assign someone from the clergy to compile such a Work. The Bishop suggested Dr. Cosin, and the King ordered him to have the Doctor start on it right away. The Dean told me that he did just that; three months later, when he presented the book to the King, the King directed the Bishop of London to review it and report back. It was so well received that, contrary to usual practice of having a chaplain handle it, the King insisted on giving it an imprimatur in his own handwriting. Initially, only 200 copies were printed; the Dean remarked that there wasn’t anything in the entire book written by him personally, nor did he put his name as the author, except for the necessary prefaces, etc., taken from the Church Fathers regarding times and seasons of prayer; everything else was entirely translated and compiled from an Workplace authorized by Queen Elizabeth in 1560, along with our own Liturgy. I mention this to defend that diligent and pious Dean, who faced great criticism as if he had concocted it on his own to introduce Popery, something he was strongly opposed to, and who during this period of temptation and apostasy kept many aligned with our Church.
29th October, 1651. Came news and letters to the Queen and Sir Richard Browne (who was the first that had intelligence of it) of his Majesty's miraculous escape after the fight at Worcester; which exceedingly rejoiced us.
29th October, 1651. News and letters arrived for the Queen and Sir Richard Browne (who was the first to hear about it) regarding His Majesty's miraculous escape after the battle at Worcester; this brought us great joy.
7th November, 1651. I visited Sir Kenelm Digby, with whom I had much discourse on chemical matters. I showed him a particular way of extracting oil of sulphur, and he gave me a certain powder with which he affirmed that he had fixed ☿ (mercury) before the late King. He advised me to try and digest a little better, and gave me a water which he said was only rain water of the autumnal equinox, exceedingly rectified, very volatile; it had a taste of a strong vitriolic, and smelt like aqua fortis. He intended it for a dissolvent of calx of gold; but the truth is, Sir Kenelm was an arrant mountebank. Came news of the gallant Earl of Derby's execution by the rebels.
7th November, 1651. I visited Sir Kenelm Digby, and we talked a lot about chemical topics. I showed him a specific method for extracting oil of sulphur, and he gave me a certain powder that he claimed he had used to fix mercury in front of the late King. He urged me to try digesting it a bit better and gave me a water that he said was just rainwater from the autumn equinox, highly purified and very volatile; it had a strong vitriolic taste and smelled like aqua fortis. He intended it to be a dissolvent for gold calx; but honestly, Sir Kenelm was quite the fraud. I also heard news of the brave Earl of Derby's execution by the rebels.
14th November, 1651. Dr. Clare preached on Genesis xxviii., verses 20, 21, 22, upon Jacob's vow, which he appositely applied, it being the first Sunday his Majesty came to chapel after his escape. I went, in the afternoon, to visit the Earl of Norwich; he lay at the Lord of Aubigny's.
14th November, 1651. Dr. Clare preached on Genesis xxviii., verses 20, 21, 22, focusing on Jacob's vow, which he relevantly connected to the occasion, as it was the first Sunday that His Majesty attended chapel after his escape. In the afternoon, I went to visit the Earl of Norwich; he was staying at the Lord of Aubigny's.
16th November, 1651. Visited Dean Stewart, who had been sick about two days; when, going up to his lodging, I found him dead; which affected me much, as besides his particular affection and love to me, he was of incomparable parts and great learning, of exemplary life, and a very great loss to the whole church. He was buried the next day with all our church's ceremonies, many noble persons accompanying the corpse.
16th November, 1651. I visited Dean Stewart, who had been sick for about two days; when I went up to his room, I found him dead, which really upset me. In addition to his personal affection and love for me, he was incredibly talented and knowledgeable, lived an exemplary life, and was a significant loss to the entire church. He was buried the next day with all the ceremonies of our church, and many noble people attended the funeral.
17th November, 1651. I went to congratulate the marriage of Mrs. Gardner, maid of honor, lately married to[Pg 269] that odd person, Sir Henry Wood: but riches do many things.
17th November, 1651. I went to congratulate Mrs. Gardner, the maid of honor, who recently married that peculiar man, Sir Henry Wood: but money can accomplish a lot.
To see Monsieur Febure's course of chemistry, where I found Sir Kenelm Digby, and divers curious persons of learning and quality. It was his first opening the course and preliminaries, in order to operations.
To see Mr. Febure's chemistry course, where I found Sir Kenelm Digby and several other interesting people of knowledge and status. It was his first introduction to the course and the basics, preparing for the experiments.
1st December, 1651. I now resolved to return to England.
1st December, 1651. I have now decided to go back to England.
3d December, 1651. Sir Lewis Dives dined with us, who relating some of his adventures, showed me divers pieces of broad gold, which, being in his pocket in a fight, preserved his life by receiving a musket bullet on them, which deadened its violence, so that it went no further; but made such a stroke on the gold as fixed the impressions upon one another, battering and bending several of them; the bullet itself was flatted, and retained on it the color of the gold. He assured us that of a hundred of them, which it seems he then had in his pocket, not one escaped without some blemish. He affirmed that his being protected by a Neapolitan Prince, who connived at his bringing some horses into France, contrary to the order of the Viceroy, by assistance of some banditti, was the occasion of a difference between those great men, and consequently of the late civil war in that kingdom, the Viceroy having killed the Prince standing on his defense at his own castle. He told me that the second time of the Scots coming into England, the King was six times their number, and might easily have beaten them; but was betrayed, as were all other his designs and counsels, by some, even of his bedchamber, meaning M. Hamilton, who copied Montrose's letters from time to time when his Majesty was asleep.
3rd December, 1651. Sir Lewis Dives had dinner with us, and while sharing some of his adventures, he showed me various pieces of broad gold. He explained that during a fight, these pieces were in his pocket and saved his life by stopping a musket bullet, which was softened by the gold and didn’t go any further. However, the bullet made such an impact on the gold that it left impressions on each piece, damaging and bending several of them; the bullet itself was flattened and kept the color of the gold. He assured us that of the hundred pieces he had in his pocket, not one was without some flaw. He stated that he was protected by a Neapolitan Prince, who turned a blind eye to him bringing some horses into France, against the Viceroy’s orders, with the help of some bandits. This caused a rift between those prominent figures and ultimately led to the recent civil war in that kingdom, as the Viceroy ended up killing the Prince while he defended himself at his own castle. He also told me that during the second invasion of the Scots into England, the King outnumbered them six to one and could have easily defeated them; however, he was betrayed, like with all his other plans and advice, by some in his own personal circle, specifically M. Hamilton, who would copy Montrose's letters while the King was asleep.
11th December, 1651. Came to visit me, Mr. Obadiah Walker, of University College, with his two pupils, the sons of my worthy friend, Henry Hyldiard, Esq., whom I had recommended to his care.
11th December, 1651. Mr. Obadiah Walker from University College came to visit me, along with his two students, the sons of my good friend, Henry Hyldiard, Esq., whom I had suggested he take care of.
21st December, 1651. Came to visit my wife, Mrs. Lane,44 the lady who conveyed the King to the seaside at his escape from Worcester. Mr. John Cosin, son of[Pg 270] the Dean, debauched by the priests, wrote a letter to me to mediate for him with his father. I prepared for my last journey, being now resolved to leave France altogether.
21st December, 1651. I visited my wife, Mrs. Lane,44 the woman who helped the King escape to the seaside from Worcester. Mr. John Cosin, the Dean's son, led astray by the priests, wrote to me asking me to talk to his father on his behalf. I got ready for my final journey, as I've now decided to leave France for good.
25th December, 1651. The King and Duke received the Sacrament first by themselves, the Lords Byron and Wilmot holding the long towel all along the altar.
25th December, 1651. The King and Duke took the Sacrament first by themselves, while Lords Byron and Wilmot held the long towel across the altar.
26th December, 1651. Came news of the death of that rebel, Ireton.
26th December, 1651. News arrived about the death of that rebel, Ireton.
31st December, 1651. Preached Dr. Wolley, after which was celebrated the Holy Communion, which I received also, preparative of my journey, being now resolved to leave France altogether, and to return God Almighty thanks for His gracious protection of me this past year.
31st December, 1651. Dr. Wolley preached, after which we celebrated Holy Communion, which I also received in preparation for my journey, as I have now decided to leave France completely and to give thanks to God Almighty for His gracious protection over me this past year.
2d January, 1651-52. News of my sister Glanville's death in childbed, which exceedingly affected me.
2d January, 1651-52. I received news that my sister Glanville passed away during childbirth, which deeply affected me.
I went to one Mark Antonio, an incomparable artist in enameling. He wrought by the lamp figures in boss, of a large size, even to the life, so that nothing could be better molded. He told us stories of a Genoese jeweler, who had the great ARCANUM, and had made projection before him several times. He met him at Cyprus traveling into Egypt; in his return from whence, he died at sea, and the secret with him, that else he had promised to have left it to him; that all his effects were seized on, and dissipated by the Greeks in the vessel, to an immense value. He also affirmed, that being in a goldsmith's shop at Amsterdam, a person of very low stature came in, and desired the goldsmith to melt him a pound of lead; which done, he unscrewed the pommel of his sword, and taking out of a little box a small quantity of powder, casting it into the crucible, poured an ingot out, which when cold he took up, saying, "Sir, you will be paid for your lead in the crucible," and so went out immediately. When he was gone the goldsmith found four ounces of good gold in it; but could never set eye again on the little man, though he sought all the city for him. Antonio asserted this with great obtestation; nor know I what to think of it, there are so many impostors and people who love to tell strange stories, as this artist did, who had been a great rover, and spoke ten different languages.
I went to see Mark Antonio, an incredible artist in enameling. He created lifelike figures in relief under the lamp, all large-sized, and they were perfectly crafted. He shared stories about a Genoese jeweler who had a great ARCANUM and had shown it to him multiple times. He met this jeweler in Cyprus while traveling to Egypt; on his way back, he died at sea, taking the secret with him—he had promised to pass it on. All his belongings were seized and scattered by the Greeks on the ship, valued at an immense amount. He also claimed that while he was in a goldsmith's shop in Amsterdam, a very short man came in and asked the goldsmith to melt a pound of lead for him. Once he did that, the man unscrewed the pommel of his sword, took out a small box with some powder, tossed it into the crucible, and poured out an ingot. When it was cool, he picked it up and said, "Sir, you'll get paid for your lead in the crucible," before leaving immediately. After he was gone, the goldsmith found four ounces of pure gold in it, but he could never find that little man again, even after searching the entire city. Antonio insisted on this with great conviction; I don’t know what to think since there are so many frauds and people who love to tell bizarre stories, just like this artist who had traveled extensively and spoke ten different languages.
13th January, 1652. I took leave of Mr. Waller, who,[Pg 271] having been proscribed by the rebels, had obtained of them permission to return, was going to England.
13th January, 1652. I said goodbye to Mr. Waller, who, [Pg 271] having been banned by the rebels, had received permission from them to return and was heading to England.
29th January, 1652. Abundance of my French and English friends and some Germans came to take leave of me, and I set out in a coach for Calais, in an exceedingly hard frost which had continued for some time. We got that night to Beaumont; 30th, to Beauvais; 31st, we found the ways very deep with snow, and it was exceedingly cold; dined at Pois; lay at Pernèe, a miserable cottage of miserable people in a wood, wholly unfurnished, but in a little time we had sorry beds and some provision, which they told me they hid in the wood for fear of the frontier enemy, the garrisons near them continually plundering what they had. They were often infested with wolves. I cannot remember that I ever saw more miserable creatures.
29th January, 1652. A lot of my French and English friends, along with some Germans, came to say goodbye to me, and I left in a coach for Calais during a bitter frost that had been going on for a while. That night, we reached Beaumont; on the 30th, we got to Beauvais; on the 31st, we encountered deep snow, and it was extremely cold; we had lunch at Pois and stayed the night at Pernèe, a miserable cottage inhabited by very poor people in a woods, completely bare of furniture. But after a while, we managed to get some sorry beds and a bit of food, which they told me they hid in the woods out of fear of the enemy from the frontier, as the nearby garrisons were constantly plundering what they had. They were often troubled by wolves. I can't recall ever seeing more wretched people.
1st February, 1652. I dined at Abbeville; 2d, dined at Montreuil, lay at Boulogne; 3d, came to Calais, by eleven in the morning; I thought to have embarked in the evening, but, for fear of pirates plying near the coast, I dared not trust our small vessel, and stayed till Monday following, when two or three lusty vessels were to depart.
1st February, 1652. I had lunch in Abbeville; on the 2nd, I had lunch in Montreuil and stayed overnight in Boulogne; on the 3rd, I arrived in Calais by eleven in the morning. I planned to leave in the evening, but because I was worried about pirates along the coast, I didn’t feel safe taking our small boat, so I decided to wait until the following Monday, when two or three sturdy boats were set to leave.
I brought with me from Paris Mr. Christopher Wase, sometime before made to resign his Fellowship in King's College, Cambridge, because he would not take the Covenant. He had been a soldier in Flanders, and came miserable to Paris. From his excellent learning, and some relation he had to Sir R. Browne, I bore his charges into England, and clad and provided for him, till he should find some better condition; and he was worthy of it. There came with us also Captain Griffith, Mr. Tyrell, brother to Sir Timothy Tyrell, of Shotover (near Oxford).
I brought Mr. Christopher Wase with me from Paris. He had previously been forced to give up his Fellowship at King's College, Cambridge, because he refused to take the Covenant. He had been a soldier in Flanders and arrived in Paris in terrible condition. Because of his impressive education and his connection to Sir R. Browne, I covered his expenses to come to England and supported him until he could find a better situation; he deserved it. Along with us were also Captain Griffith and Mr. Tyrell, brother of Sir Timothy Tyrell from Shotover (near Oxford).
At Calais, I dined with my Lord Wentworth, and met with Mr. Heath, Sir Richard Lloyd, Captain Paine, and divers of our banished friends, of whom understanding that the Count de la Strade, Governor of Dunkirk, was in the town, who had bought my wife's picture, taken by pirates at sea the year before (my wife having sent it for me in England), as my Lord of Norwich had informed me at Paris, I made my address to him, who frankly told me that he had such a picture in his own bedchamber among other ladies, and how he came by it; seeming well pleased that it was his fortune to preserve it for me,[Pg 272] and he generously promised to send it to any friend I had at Dover; I mentioned a French merchant there and so took my leave.
At Calais, I had dinner with Lord Wentworth and ran into Mr. Heath, Sir Richard Lloyd, Captain Paine, and several of our exiled friends. I learned that the Count de la Strade, the Governor of Dunkirk, was in town and had bought my wife's picture, which pirates had captured at sea the year before (my wife had sent it to me while I was in England), as Lord Norwich had told me in Paris. I introduced myself to him, and he honestly told me that he had that picture in his own bedroom among other ladies, explaining how he acquired it. He seemed quite pleased that it was fortunate for him to keep it for me, and he generously offered to send it to any friend I had in Dover. I mentioned a French merchant there and then took my leave.[Pg 272]
6th February, 1652. I embarked early in the packet boat, but put my goods in a stouter vessel. It was calm, so that we got not to Dover till eight at night. I took horse for Canterbury, and lay at Rochester; next day, to Gravesend, took a pair of oars, and landed at Sayes Court, where I stayed three days to refresh, and look after my packet and goods, sent by a stouter vessel. I went to visit my cousin, Richard Fanshawe, and divers other friends.
6th February, 1652. I set sail early in the packet boat but put my belongings in a sturdier ship. It was calm, so we didn’t reach Dover until eight at night. I hired a horse to Canterbury and stayed overnight in Rochester; the next day, I went to Gravesend, took a pair of oars, and landed at Sayes Court, where I stayed for three days to rest and check on my packet and belongings sent by the stronger vessel. I visited my cousin, Richard Fanshawe, and several other friends.
6th March, 1652. Saw the magnificent funeral of that arch-rebel, Ireton, carried in pomp from Somerset House to Westminster, accompanied with divers regiments of soldiers, horse and foot; then marched the mourners, General Cromwell (his father-in-law), his mock-parliament-men, officers, and forty poor men in gowns, three led horses in housings of black cloth, two led in black velvet, and his charging horse, all covered over with embroidery and gold, on crimson velvet; then the guidons, ensigns, four heralds, carrying the arms of the State (as they called it), namely, the red cross and Ireland, with the casque, wreath, sword, spurs, etc.; next, a chariot canopied of black velvet, and six horses, in which was the corpse; the pall held up by the mourners on foot; the mace and sword, with other marks of his charge in Ireland (where he died of the plague), carried before in black scarfs. Thus, in a grave pace, drums covered with cloth, soldiers reversing their arms, they proceeded through the streets in a very solemn manner. This Ireton was a stout rebel, and had been very bloody to the King's party, witness his severity at Colchester, when in cold blood he put to death those gallant gentlemen, Sir Charles Lucas and Sir George Lisle. My cousin, R. Fanshawe, came to visit me, and informed me of many considerable affairs. Sir Henry Herbert presented me with his brother, my Lord Cherbury's book, "De Veritate."
6th March, 1652. I witnessed the grand funeral of the notorious rebel, Ireton, being carried in splendor from Somerset House to Westminster, accompanied by various regiments of soldiers on horseback and on foot. The mourners followed, including General Cromwell (his father-in-law), his mock-parliament members, officers, and forty poor men in gowns, along with three led horses draped in black cloth, two led in black velvet, and his charging horse covered in embroidery and gold on crimson velvet. Next came the guidons, ensigns, and four heralds carrying the State's arms (as they called it), which included the red cross and the emblem of Ireland, along with the helmet, wreath, sword, spurs, etc. Following them was a chariot draped in black velvet, pulled by six horses, with the corpse inside; the pall was held up by the mourners on foot. The mace and sword, along with other symbols of his command in Ireland (where he died of the plague), were carried in front, draped in black scarves. In a solemn fashion, with drums covered in cloth and soldiers reversing their arms, they proceeded through the streets. Ireton was a fierce rebel and had been brutal towards the King’s side, as evidenced by his harsh treatment at Colchester when he coldly executed those brave gentlemen, Sir Charles Lucas and Sir George Lisle. During this time, my cousin, R. Fanshawe, came to visit me and told me about several important matters. Sir Henry Herbert also gave me his brother, my Lord Cherbury's book, "De Veritate."
9th March, 1652. I went to Deptford, where I made preparation for my settlement, no more intending to go out of England, but endeavor a settled life, either in this or some other place, there being now so little appearance of any change for the better, all being entirely[Pg 273] in the rebels' hands; and this particular habitation and the estate contiguous to it (belonging to my father-in-law, actually in his Majesty's service) very much suffering for want of some friend to rescue it out of the power of the usurpers, so as to preserve our interest, and take some care of my other concerns, by the advice and endeavor of my friends I was advised to reside in it, and compound with the soldiers. This I was besides authorized by his Majesty to do, and encouraged with a promise that what was in lease from the Crown, if ever it pleased God to restore him, he would secure to us in fee farm. I had also addresses and cyphers, to correspond with his Majesty and Ministers abroad: upon all which inducements, I was persuaded to settle henceforth in England, having now run about the world, most part out of my own country, near ten years. I therefore now likewise meditated sending over for my wife, whom as yet I had left at Paris.
9th March, 1652. I went to Deptford, where I got ready to settle down, no longer planning to leave England but instead aiming for a stable life, either here or somewhere else. There seemed to be so little chance of things improving, with everything completely in the rebels' hands. This particular place and the land next to it (belonging to my father-in-law, who is currently in the King's service) were suffering a lot because there was no one to help take it back from the usurpers, which would protect our interests and look after my other affairs. Based on the advice and efforts of my friends, I decided to live here and work out an agreement with the soldiers. I was also authorized by the King to do this and was encouraged with a promise that if God ever restored him to the throne, he would secure whatever was leased from the Crown for us in fee farm. I also had contacts and codes to communicate with the King and his ministers abroad. With all these reasons, I was convinced to settle here in England, having spent almost ten years wandering around the world, mostly away from my own country. Therefore, I also planned to send for my wife, whom I had left in Paris.
14th March, 1652. I went to Lewisham, where I heard an honest sermon on 1 Cor. ii. 5-7, being the first Sunday I had been at church since my return, it being now a rare thing to find a priest of the Church of England in a parish pulpit, most of which were filled with Independents and Fanatics.
14th March, 1652. I went to Lewisham, where I heard a straightforward sermon on 1 Cor. ii. 5-7. It was the first Sunday I had been to church since my return, and it’s now pretty rare to find a priest from the Church of England in a parish pulpit, as most of them are filled with Independents and Fanatics.
15th March, 1652. I saw the "Diamond" and "Ruby" launched in the Dock at Deptford, carrying forty-eight brass cannon each; Cromwell and his grandees present, with great acclamations.
15th March, 1652. I saw the "Diamond" and "Ruby" launched in the Dock at Deptford, each carrying forty-eight brass cannons; Cromwell and his top officials were present, receiving great cheers.
18th March, 1652. That worthy divine, Mr. Owen, of Eltham, a sequestered person, came to visit me.
18th March, 1652. That esteemed clergyman, Mr. Owen, from Eltham, a retired individual, came to visit me.
19th March, 1652. Invited by Lady Gerrard, I went to London, where we had a great supper; all the vessels, which were innumerable, were of porcelain, she having the most ample and richest collection of that curiosity in England.
19th March, 1652. Invited by Lady Gerrard, I went to London, where we had a great dinner; all the dishes, which were countless, were made of porcelain, as she had the largest and most valuable collection of that rarity in England.
22d March, 1652. I went with my brother Evelyn to Wotton, to give him what directions I was able about his garden, which he was now desirous to put into some form; but for which he was to remove a mountain overgrown with huge trees and thicket, with a moat within ten yards of the house. This my brother immediately attempted, and that without great cost, for more than a hundred yards south, by digging down the mountain,[Pg 274] and flinging it into a rapid stream; it not only carried away the sand, etc., but filled up the moat, and leveled that noble area, where now the garden and fountain is. The first occasion of my brother making this alteration was my building the little retiring place between the great wood eastward next the meadow, where, some time after my father's death, I made a triangular pond, or little stew, with an artificial rock after my coming out of Flanders.
22nd March, 1652. I went with my brother Evelyn to Wotton to give him whatever advice I could about his garden, which he was eager to shape into some order. However, he needed to clear a mountain covered with large trees and underbrush, along with a moat just ten yards from the house. My brother immediately set to work on this, and he did it without spending much. He dug down the mountain for over a hundred yards to the south and tossed the dirt into a fast-moving stream; this not only carried away the sand and other debris but also filled in the moat and leveled the beautiful area where the garden and fountain now stand. The initial reason my brother decided to make this change was my construction of a small retreat between the large woods to the east next to the meadow, where, some time after my father's death, I created a triangular pond, or small fishery, with a decorative rock after returning from Flanders.
29th March, 1652. I heard that excellent prelate, the primate of Ireland (Jacobus Usher) preach in Lincoln's Inn, on Heb. iv. 16, encouraging of penitent sinners.
29th March, 1652. I heard that great church leader, the primate of Ireland (James Usher) preach at Lincoln's Inn, on Hebrews 4:16, encouraging repentant sinners.
5th April, 1652. My brother George brought to Sayes Court Cromwell's Act of Oblivion to all that would submit to the Government.
5th April, 1652. My brother George brought to Sayes Court Cromwell's Act of Oblivion to all who would submit to the Government.
13th April, 1652. News was brought me that Lady Cotton, my brother George's wife was delivered of a son.
13th April, 1652. I received news that Lady Cotton, my brother George's wife, had given birth to a son.
I was moved by a letter out of France to publish the letter which some time since I sent to Dean Cosin's proselyted son; but I did not conceive it convenient, for fear of displeasing her Majesty, the Queen.
I was inspired by a letter from France to publish the letter I previously sent to Dean Cosin's converted son; however, I didn't think it was appropriate, as I didn't want to upset her Majesty, the Queen.
15th April, 1652. I wrote to the Dean, touching my buying his library, which was one of the choicest collections of any private person in England.
15th April, 1652. I wrote to the Dean about purchasing his library, which was one of the finest collections owned by any private individual in England.
The Count de Strade most generously and handsomely sent me the picture of my wife from Dunkirk, in a large tin case without any charge. It is of Mr. Bourdon, and is that which has the dog in it, and is to the knees, but it has been somewhat spoiled by washing it ignorantly with soapsuds.
The Count de Strade kindly and generously sent me the picture of my wife from Dunkirk, packaged in a large tin case at no cost. It’s by Mr. Bourdon and features her with the dog, and it’s a knee-length portrait, but it has been a bit damaged because someone washed it carelessly with soapy water.
25th April, 1652. I went to visit Alderman Kendrick, a fanatic Lord Mayor, who had married a relation of ours, where I met with a Captain who had been thirteen times to the East Indies.
25th April, 1652. I went to visit Alderman Kendrick, a fanatical Lord Mayor who had married a relative of ours, where I met a Captain who had been to the East Indies thirteen times.
29th April, 1652. Was that celebrated eclipse of the sun, so much threatened by the astrologers, and which had so exceedingly alarmed the whole nation that hardly any one would work, nor stir out of their houses. So ridiculously were they abused by knavish and ignorant star-gazers.
29th April, 1652. That was the famous solar eclipse that the astrologers warned about, which caused such a panic across the nation that almost everyone refused to work or leave their homes. They were so foolishly misled by deceitful and ignorant stargazers.
We went this afternoon to see the Queen's house at Greenwich, now given by the rebels to Bulstrode White[Pg 275]locke, one of their unhappy counselors, and keeper of pretended liberties.
We went this afternoon to see the Queen's house at Greenwich, which has now been given by the rebels to Bulstrode White[Pg 275]locke, one of their unfortunate advisors, and keeper of fake freedoms.
10th May, 1652. Passing by Smithfield, I saw a miserable creature burning, who had murdered her husband. I went to see some workmanship of that admirable artist, Reeves, famous for perspective, and turning curiosities in ivory.
10th May, 1652. Passing by Smithfield, I saw a hopeless soul being burned, who had killed her husband. I went to see some work by that amazing artist, Reeves, known for his perspective and ivory curiosities.
29th May, 1652. I went to give order about a coach to be made against my wife's coming, being my first coach, the pattern whereof I brought out of Paris.
29th May, 1652. I went to arrange for a coach to be made for my wife's arrival, which will be my first coach; I brought the design from Paris.
30th May, 1652. I went to obtain of my Lord Devonshire that my nephew, George, might be brought up with my young Lord, his son, to whom I was recommending Mr. Wase. I also inspected the manner of camleting silk and grograms at one Monsieur La Dorées in Moor-fields, and thence to Colonel Morley, one of their Council of State, as then called, who had been my schoolfellow, to request a pass for my wife's safe landing, and the goods she was to bring with her out of France; which he courteously granted, and did me many other kindnesses, that was a great matter in those days.
30th May, 1652. I went to speak with my Lord Devonshire about my nephew, George, being raised alongside his young Lord, his son, to whom I was recommending Mr. Wase. I also checked out how they were making silk and grograms at a place run by Monsieur La Dorées in Moor-fields, then went to see Colonel Morley, one of their Council of State, who had been my schoolmate, to ask for a pass for my wife’s safe arrival and the goods she was bringing back from France; he kindly granted it and did me many other favors, which was a big deal in those days.
In the afternoon, at Charlton church, where I heard a Rabinical sermon. Here is a fair monument in black marble of Sir Adam Newton, who built that fair house near it for Prince Henry, and where my noble friend, Sir Henry Newton, succeeded him.
In the afternoon, at Charlton church, I listened to a Rabinical sermon. There’s an impressive monument in black marble of Sir Adam Newton, who built that beautiful house nearby for Prince Henry, and where my noble friend, Sir Henry Newton, took over from him.
3d June, 1652. I received a letter from Colonel Morley to the Magistrates and Searchers at Rye, to assist my wife at her landing, and show her all civility.
3rd June, 1652. I got a letter from Colonel Morley to the Magistrates and Searchers at Rye, asking them to help my wife when she arrives and to treat her with all respect.
4th June, 1652. I set out to meet her now on her journey from Paris, after she had obtained leave to come out of that city, which had now been besieged some time by the Prince of Condé's army in the time of the rebellion, and after she had been now near twelve years from her own country, that is, since five years of age, at which time she went over. I went to Rye to meet her, where was an embargo on occasion of the late conflict with the Holland fleet, the two nations being now in war, and which made sailing very unsafe.
4th June, 1652. I set out to meet her on her journey from Paris, after she was granted permission to leave the city, which had been under siege for some time by Prince Condé's army during the rebellion. She had also been away from her own country for nearly twelve years, since she left at the age of five. I went to Rye to meet her, where there was an embargo due to the recent conflict with the Dutch fleet; the two nations were now at war, making sailing very dangerous.
On Whit Sunday, I went to the church (which is a very fair one), and heard one of the canters, who dismissed the assembly rudely, and without any blessing. Here I stayed till the 10th with no small impatience, when I[Pg 276] walked over to survey the ruins of Winchelsea, that ancient cinq-port, which by the remains and ruins of ancient streets and public structures, discovers it to have been formerly a considerable and large city. There are to be seen vast caves and vaults, walls and towers, ruins of monasteries and of a sumptuous church, in which are some handsome monuments, especially of the Templars, buried just in the manner of those in the Temple at London. This place being now all in rubbish, and a few despicable hovels and cottages only standing, hath yet a Mayor. The sea, which formerly rendered it a rich and commodious port, has now forsaken it.
On Whit Sunday, I went to church (which is quite beautiful) and listened to one of the canters, who dismissed the congregation rudely and without any blessing. I stayed there until the 10th with considerable impatience, when I[Pg 276] walked over to check out the ruins of Winchelsea, that ancient cinque port, which through the remnants of old streets and public buildings shows that it was once a significant and sizable city. You can see large caves and vaults, walls and towers, ruins of monasteries and an impressive church, which contains some beautiful monuments, particularly of the Templars, buried just like those in the Temple in London. This place, now all in ruins with just a few shabby huts and cottages still standing, still has a Mayor. The sea, which once made it a wealthy and convenient port, has now abandoned it.
11th June, 1652. About four in the afternoon, being at bowls on the green, we discovered a vessel which proved to be that in which my wife was, and which got into the harbor about eight that evening, to my no small joy. They had been three days at sea, and escaped the Dutch fleet, through which they passed, taken for fishers, which was great good fortune, there being seventeen bales of furniture and other rich plunder, which I bless God came all safe to land, together with my wife, and my Lady Browne, her mother, who accompanied her. My wife being discomposed by having been so long at sea, we set not forth toward home till the 14th, when, hearing the smallpox was very rife in and about London, and Lady Browne having a desire to drink TUNBRIDGETunbridge waters, I carried them thither, and stayed in a very sweet place, private and refreshing, and took the waters myself till the 23d, when I went to prepare for their reception, leaving them for the present in their little cottage by the Wells.
June 11, 1652. Around four in the afternoon, while we were playing bowls on the green, we spotted a ship that turned out to be the one my wife was on. It arrived in the harbor around eight that night, which brought me great joy. They had been at sea for three days and had successfully avoided the Dutch fleet by being mistaken for fishermen, which was quite fortunate. They brought back seventeen bales of furniture and other valuable goods, and I thank God they all arrived safely, along with my wife and her mother, Lady Browne, who was with her. Since my wife was feeling unwell from the long sea journey, we didn't leave for home until the 14th. However, after learning that smallpox was quite prevalent in and around London, and with Lady Browne wanting to drink the Tunbridge waters, I took them there. We stayed in a lovely, secluded, and refreshing area while I also took the waters myself until the 23rd, when I went to prepare for their arrival, leaving them for now in their little cottage by the Wells.
The weather being hot, and having sent my man on before, I rode negligently under favor of the shade, till, within three miles of Bromley, at a place called the Procession Oak, two cutthroats started out, and striking with long staves at the horse, and taking hold of the reins, threw me down, took my sword, and hauled me into a deep thicket, some quarter of a mile from the highway, where they might securely rob me, as they soon did. What they got of money, was not considerable, but they took two rings, the one an emerald with diamonds, the other an onyx, and a pair of buckles set with rubies and diamonds, which were of value, and[Pg 277] after all bound my hands behind me, and my feet, having before pulled off my boots; they then set me up against an oak, with most bloody threats to cut my throat if I offered to cry out, or make any noise; for they should be within hearing, I not being the person they looked for. I told them that if they had not basely surprised me they should not have had so easy a prize, and that it would teach me never to ride near a hedge, since, had I been in the midway, they dared not have adventured on me; at which they cocked their pistols, and told me they had long guns, too, and were fourteen companions. I begged for my onyx, and told them it being engraved with my arms would betray them; but nothing prevailed. My horse's bridle they slipped, and searched the saddle, which they pulled off, but let the horse graze, and then turning again bridled him and tied him to a tree, yet so as he might graze, and thus left me bound. My horse was perhaps not taken, because he was marked and cropped on both ears, and well known on that road. Left in this manner, grievously was I tormented with flies, ants, and the sun, nor was my anxiety little how I should get loose in that solitary place, where I could neither hear nor see any creature but my poor horse and a few sheep straggling in the copse.
The weather was hot, and after sending my servant ahead, I rode lazily under the shade until, about three miles from Bromley, at a spot called the Procession Oak, two thugs jumped out, striking at my horse with long staffs and grabbing the reins. They threw me down, took my sword, and dragged me into a deep thicket, about a quarter of a mile from the road, where they could rob me safely, which they did. They didn’t get much money, but they took two rings—one an emerald with diamonds and the other an onyx—and a pair of buckles set with rubies and diamonds, which were valuable. They then tied my hands behind me and my feet, having removed my boots first. They propped me up against an oak tree, threatening to cut my throat if I made any noise because they were nearby, and I wasn’t the person they were after. I told them that if they hadn’t sneakily ambushed me, they wouldn’t have had such an easy target and that it taught me never to ride near a hedge since, if I had been on the road, they wouldn’t have dared approach me. They cocked their pistols and told me they also had long guns and that there were fourteen of them. I begged for my onyx, saying that since it was engraved with my family crest, it would betray them, but nothing worked. They slipped off my horse's bridle and searched the saddle, which they took off but let my horse graze. Then they bridled him again and tied him to a tree, still allowing him to graze, and left me bound. My horse wasn’t taken, perhaps because he was marked and cropped on both ears, making him well-known on that road. Left like this, I was tormented by flies, ants, and the sun, and I was anxious about how I would get free in that lonely place where I could see and hear no one but my poor horse and a few sheep wandering in the thicket.
After near two hours attempting, I got my hands to turn palm to palm, having been tied back to back, and then it was long before I could slip the cord over my wrists to my thumb, which at last I did, and then soon unbound my feet, and saddling my horse and roaming a while about, I at last perceived dust to rise, and soon after heard the rattling of a cart, toward which I made, and, by the help of two countrymen, I got back into the highway. I rode to Colonel Blount's, a great justiciary of the times, who sent out hue and cry immediately. The next morning, sore as my wrists and arms were, I went to London, and got 500 tickets printed and dispersed by an officer of Goldsmiths' Hall, and within two days had tidings of all I had lost, except my sword, which had a silver hilt, and some trifles. The rogues had pawned one of my rings for a trifle to a goldsmith's servant, before the tickets came to the shop, by which means they escaped; the other[Pg 278] ring was bought by a victualer, who brought it to a goldsmith, but he having seen the ticket seized the man. I afterward discharged him on his protestation of innocence. Thus did God deliver me from these villains, and not only so, but restored what they took, as twice before he had graciously done, both at sea and land, I mean when I had been robbed by pirates, and was in danger of a considerable loss at Amsterdam; for which, and many, many signal preservations, I am extremely obliged to give thanks to God my Savior.
After almost two hours of trying, I managed to get my hands to turn palm to palm, even though they were tied back to back. It wasn't long before I could slip the cord over my wrists to my thumb, which I finally did, and soon I was able to untie my feet. After saddling my horse and wandering around for a bit, I noticed dust rising and soon heard the sound of a cart, so I headed toward it. With the help of two local men, I got back onto the main road. I rode to Colonel Blount's, a prominent justice of the time, who immediately sent out a search party. The next morning, even though my wrists and arms were sore, I went to London and had 500 tickets printed and distributed by an officer from Goldsmiths' Hall. Within two days, I heard about all the items I had lost, except my sword, which had a silver hilt, and some minor things. The thieves had pawned one of my rings for a small amount to a goldsmith's servant before the tickets arrived at the shop, which allowed them to evade capture. The other ring was purchased by a food seller who brought it to a goldsmith, but he recognized the ticket and seized the man. I later let him go after he insisted he was innocent. In this way, God saved me from these villains, and not only that, but He also restored what they took, just as He had graciously done twice before, once at sea and once on land, when I had been robbed by pirates and was in danger of losing a significant amount in Amsterdam. For this, and for many other miraculous rescues, I feel deeply grateful to God, my Savior.
25th June, 1652. After a drought of near four months, there fell so violent a tempest of hail, rain, wind, thunder, and lightning, as no man had seen the like in his age; the hail being in some places four or five inches about, broke all glass about London, especially at Deptford, and more at Greenwich.
25th June, 1652. After nearly four months of drought, a violent storm of hail, rain, wind, thunder, and lightning hit, unlike anything anyone had seen in their lifetime; the hail in some areas measured four or five inches in diameter, shattering all the glass in London, especially in Deptford, and even more so in Greenwich.
29th June, 1652. I returned to Tunbridge, and again drank the water, till 10th of July.
29th June, 1652. I went back to Tunbridge and drank the water again until the 10th of July.
We went to see the house of my Lord Clanrickarde at Summer hill, near Tunbridge (now given to that villain, Bradshawe, who condemned the King). 'Tis situated on an eminent hill, with a park; but has nothing else extraordinary.
We went to see the house of my Lord Clanrickarde at Summer Hill, near Tunbridge (now given to that guy, Bradshawe, who condemned the King). It's located on a prominent hill, with a park; but there's nothing else special about it.
4th July, 1652. I heard a sermon at Mr. Packer's chapel at Groomsbridge, a pretty melancholy seat, well wooded and watered. In this house was one of the French kings45 kept prisoner. The chapel was built by Mr. Packer's father, in remembrance of King Charles the First's safe return out of Spain.
4th July, 1652. I attended a sermon at Mr. Packer's chapel in Groomsbridge, a rather gloomy spot, nicely wooded and filled with water. In this house, one of the French kings45 was kept as a prisoner. Mr. Packer's father built the chapel to commemorate King Charles the First's safe return from Spain.
9th July, 1652. We went to see Penshurst, the Earl of Leicester's, famous once for its gardens and excellent fruit, and for the noble conversation which was wont to meet there, celebrated by that illustrious person, Sir Philip Sidney, who there composed divers of his pieces. It stands in a park, is finely watered, and was now full of company, on the marriage of my old fellow-collegiate, Mr. Robert Smith, who married my Lady Dorothy Sidney, widow of the Earl of Sunderland.
9th July, 1652. We went to visit Penshurst, the Earl of Leicester's estate, which was once famous for its gardens and amazing fruit, as well as the great conversations that used to take place there, celebrated by the distinguished Sir Philip Sidney, who wrote several of his works there. It’s situated in a beautiful park, has nice waterways, and was crowded with guests for the wedding of my old college mate, Mr. Robert Smith, who married Lady Dorothy Sidney, widow of the Earl of Sunderland.
One of the men who robbed me was taken; I was accordingly summoned to appear against him; and, on the[Pg 279] 12th, was in Westminster Hall, but not being bound over, nor willing to hang the fellow, I did not appear, coming only to save a friend's bail; but the bill being found, he was turned over to the Old Bailey. In the meantime, I received a petition from the prisoner, whose father I understood was an honest old farmer in Kent. He was charged, with other crimes, and condemned, but reprieved. I heard afterward that, had it not been for his companion, a younger man, he would probably have killed me. He was afterward charged with some other crime, but, refusing to plead, was pressed to death.
One of the guys who robbed me was caught; I was therefore called to testify against him. On the [Pg 279] 12th, I showed up at Westminster Hall, but since I wasn’t legally required to be there and didn’t want to send the guy to the gallows, I didn’t testify. I was really just there to help a friend with his bail; however, the prosecution went ahead, and he was sent to the Old Bailey. In the meantime, I got a letter from the prisoner, whose father I heard was an honest old farmer from Kent. He was charged with several crimes, found guilty, but then his sentence was postponed. I later learned that if it hadn't been for his partner, a younger guy, he probably would have killed me. He was later charged with another crime but refused to enter a plea, and as a result, he was pressed to death.
23d July, 1652. Came my old friend, Mr. Spencer, to visit me.
23rd July, 1652. My old friend, Mr. Spencer, came to visit me.
30th July, 1652. I took advice about purchasing Sir Richard's [Browne] interest of those who had bought Sayes Court.
30th July, 1652. I sought advice on buying Sir Richard Browne's share from those who purchased Sayes Court.
1st August, 1652. Came old Jerome Lennier, of Greenwich, a man skilled in painting and music, and another rare musician, called Mell. I went to see his collection of pictures, especially those of Julio Romano, which surely had been the King's, and an Egyptian figure, etc. There were also excellent things of Polydore, Guido, Raphael, and Tintoretto. Lennier had been a domestic of Queen Elizabeth, and showed me her head, an intaglio in a rare sardonyx, cut by a famous Italian, which he assured me was exceedingly like her.
1st August, 1652. Old Jerome Lennier from Greenwich, a guy who was talented in both painting and music, came by along with another amazing musician named Mell. I went to check out his collection of paintings, especially the ones by Julio Romano, which I believe used to belong to the King, and an Egyptian figure, among other things. There were also fantastic works by Polydore, Guido, Raphael, and Tintoretto. Lennier had been a servant for Queen Elizabeth and showed me her portrait, an intaglio on a rare sardonyx, carved by a famous Italian, which he claimed looked just like her.
24th August, 1652. My first child, a son, was born precisely at one o'clock.
24th August, 1652. My first child, a son, was born exactly at one o'clock.
2d September, 1652. Mr. Owen, the sequestered divine, of Eltham, christened my son by the name of Richard.
2nd September, 1652. Mr. Owen, the sequestered clergyman of Eltham, baptized my son with the name Richard.
22d September, 1652. I went to Woodcott, where Lady Browne was taken with scarlet fever, and died. She was carried to Deptford, and interred in the church near Sir Richard's relations with all decent ceremonies, and according to the church-office, for which I obtained permission, after it had not been used in that church for seven years. Thus ended an excellent and virtuous lady, universally lamented, having been so obliging on all occasions to those who continually frequented her house in Paris, which was not only an hospital, but an asylum to all our persecuted and afflicted countrymen, during eleven years' residence there in that honorable situation.[Pg 280]
22nd September, 1652. I went to Woodcott, where Lady Browne fell ill with scarlet fever and passed away. She was taken to Deptford and buried in the church near Sir Richard's relatives with all appropriate ceremonies, following the church's rites, for which I got permission after it hadn't been used there for seven years. Thus ended the life of an excellent and virtuous lady, who was widely mourned, having always been kind and accommodating to everyone who often visited her home in Paris, which served not only as a hospital but also as a refuge for all our persecuted and suffering countrymen during her eleven years in that honorable position.[Pg 280]
25th September, 1652. I went to see Dr. Mason's house, so famous for the prospect (for the house is a wretched one) and description of Barclay's "Icon Animarum."46
25th September, 1652. I went to check out Dr. Mason's house, which is well-known for the view (even though the house itself is pretty awful) and the description of Barclay's "Icon Animarum."46
5th November, 1652. To London, to visit some friends, but the insolences were so great in the streets that I could not return till the next day.
5th November, 1652. I went to London to visit some friends, but the rudeness in the streets was so overwhelming that I couldn't come back until the next day.
Dr. Scarborough was instant with me to give the Tables of Veins and Arteries to the College of Physicians, pretending he would not only read upon them, but celebrate my curiosity as being the first who caused them to be completed in that manner, and with that cost; but I was not so willing yet to part with them, as to lend them to the College during their anatomical lectures; which I did accordingly.
Dr. Scarborough was eager to give the Tables of Veins and Arteries to the College of Physicians, claiming he would not only study them but also recognize my curiosity for being the first to have them completed in that way and at that expense. However, I wasn't quite ready to hand them over just yet, so I agreed to lend them to the College for their anatomy lectures, which I did.
22d November, 1652. I went to London, where was proposed to me the promoting that great work (since accomplished by Dr. Walton, Bishop of Chester), "Biblia Polyglotta," by Mr. Pierson, that most learned divine.
22nd November, 1652. I went to London, where I was asked to support the creation of that great project (which was later completed by Dr. Walton, Bishop of Chester), "Biblia Polyglotta," by Mr. Pierson, that highly educated scholar.
25th December, 1652. Christmas day, no sermon anywhere, no church being permitted to be open, so observed it at home. The next day, we went to Lewisham, where an honest divine preached.
25th December, 1652. Christmas Day, no sermons anywhere, no church allowed to be open, so we celebrated it at home. The next day, we went to Lewisham, where a good preacher delivered a sermon.
31st December, 1652. I adjusted all accompts, and rendered thanks to Almighty God for his mercies to me the year past.
31st December, 1652. I settled all accounts and gave thanks to Almighty God for His blessings to me over the past year.
1st January, 1652-53. I set apart in preparation for the Blessed Sacrament, which the next day Mr. Owen administered to me and all my family in Sayes Court, preaching on John vi. 32, 33, showing the exceeding benefits of our blessed Savior taking our nature upon him. He had christened my son and churched my wife in our own house as before noticed.
1st January, 1652-53. I set aside time to prepare for the Blessed Sacrament, which Mr. Owen administered to me and my family the following day at Sayes Court, preaching on John 6:32-33, highlighting the incredible benefits of our blessed Savior taking on our human nature. He had baptized my son and welcomed my wife back to church in our own home, as mentioned earlier.
17th January, 1653. I began to set out the oval garden at Sayes Court, which was before a rude orchard, and[Pg 281] all the rest one entire field of 100 acres, without any hedge, except the hither holly hedge joining to the bank of the mount walk. This was the beginning of all the succeeding gardens, walks, groves, inclosures, and plantations there.
17th January, 1653. I started to develop the oval garden at Sayes Court, which used to be a rough orchard, and[Pg 281] the rest was a single field of 100 acres, with no hedge at all, except for the nearby holly hedge next to the bank of the mount walk. This was the beginning of all the future gardens, paths, groves, enclosures, and plantings there.
21st January, 1653. I went to London, and sealed some of the writings of my purchase of Sayes Court.
21st January, 1653. I went to London and signed some documents regarding my purchase of Sayes Court.
30th January, 1653. At our own parish church, a stranger preached. There was now and then an honest orthodox man got into the pulpit, and, though the present incumbent was somewhat of the Independent, yet he ordinarily preached sound doctrine, and was a peaceable man; which was an extraordinary felicity in this age.
30th January, 1653. At our local church, a stranger preached. Occasionally, an honest orthodox man would take to the pulpit, and while the current pastor had some Independent views, he usually preached sound doctrine and was a peaceful person; which was quite a rare blessing in this time.
1st February, 1653. Old Alexander Rosse (author of "Virgilius Evangelizans," and many other little books) presented me with his book against Mr. Hobbes's "Leviathan."
1st February, 1653. Old Alexander Rosse (author of "Virgilius Evangelizans" and several other small books) gave me his book responding to Mr. Hobbes's "Leviathan."
19th February, 1653. I planted the orchard at Sayes Court; new moon, wind west.
19th February, 1653. I planted the orchard at Sayes Court; new moon, wind from the west.
22d February, 1653. Was perfected the sealing, livery, and seisin of my purchase of Sayes Court. My brother, George Glanville, Mr. Scudamore, Mr. Offley, Co. William Glanville (son to Sergeant Glanville, sometime Speaker of the House of Commons), Co. Stephens, and several of my friends dining with me. I had bargained for £3,200, but I paid £3,500.
22nd February, 1653. The sealing, delivery, and possession of my purchase of Sayes Court were completed. My brother, George Glanville, Mr. Scudamore, Mr. Offley, Co. William Glanville (son of Sergeant Glanville, who was once Speaker of the House of Commons), Co. Stephens, and several of my friends joined me for dinner. I had agreed to pay £3,200, but I ended up paying £3,500.
17th May, 1653. My servant Hoare, who wrote those exquisite several hands, fell of a fit of an apoplexy, caused, as I suppose, by tampering with mercury about an experiment in gold.
17th May, 1653. My servant Hoare, who had such beautiful handwriting, suffered a stroke, which I think was caused by handling mercury during a gold experiment.
29th May, 1653. I went to London, to take my last leave of my honest friend, Mr. Barton, now dying; it was a great loss to me and to my affairs. On the sixth of June, I attended his funeral.
29th May, 1653. I went to London to say my final goodbye to my good friend, Mr. Barton, who is now dying; it was a huge loss for me and my business. On the sixth of June, I went to his funeral.
8th June, 1653. Came my brother George, Captain Evelyn, the great traveler, Mr. Muschamp, my cousin,[Pg 282] Thomas Keightly, and a virtuoso, fastastical Simons, who had the talent of embossing so to the life.
8th June, 1653. My brother George, Captain Evelyn, the great traveler, Mr. Muschamp, my cousin, [Pg 282] Thomas Keightly, and a talented virtuoso named Simons, who had an amazing skill for lifelike embossing, came to visit.
9th June, 1653. I went to visit my worthy neighbor, Sir Henry Newton [at Charlton], and consider the prospect, which is doubtless for city, river, ships, meadows, hill, woods, and all other amenities, one of the most noble in the world; so as, had the house running water, it were a princely seat. Mr. Henshaw and his brother-in-law came to visit me, and he presented me with a seleniscope.
9th June, 1653. I visited my esteemed neighbor, Sir Henry Newton [at Charlton], and marveled at the view, which is undoubtedly one of the most magnificent in the world, featuring the city, river, ships, meadows, hills, woods, and all other attractive elements; if the house had running water, it would be a royal residence. Mr. Henshaw and his brother-in-law came to see me, and he gifted me a seleniscope.
19th June, 1653. This day, I paid all my debts to a farthing; oh, blessed day!
19th June, 1653. Today, I paid off all my debts to the last penny; oh, what a wonderful day!
21st June, 1653. My Lady Gerrard, and one Esquire Knight, a very rich gentleman, living in Northamptonshire, visited me.
21st June, 1653. My Lady Gerrard and a wealthy gentleman, an Esquire Knight from Northamptonshire, came to see me.
23d June, 1653. Mr. Lombart, a famous graver, came to see my collections.
23rd June, 1653. Mr. Lombart, a well-known engraver, came to check out my collections.
27th June, 1653. Monsieur Roupel sent me a small phial of his aurum potabile, with a letter, showing the way of administering it, and the stupendous cures it had done at Paris; but, ere it came to me, by what accident I know not, it was all run out.
27th June, 1653. Monsieur Roupel sent me a small vial of his aurum potabile, along with a letter explaining how to use it and the amazing cures it had achieved in Paris; however, by the time it reached me, I don't know what happened, but it had all leaked out.
17th August, 1653. I went to visit Mr. Hyldiard, at his house at Horsley (formerly the great Sir Walter Raleigh's47), where met me Mr. Oughtred, the famous mathematician; he showed me a box, or golden case, of divers rich and aromatic balsams, which a chemist, a scholar of his, had sent him out of Germany.
17th August, 1653. I went to visit Mr. Hyldiard at his house in Horsley (formerly the great Sir Walter Raleigh's47), where I met Mr. Oughtred, the famous mathematician. He showed me a box, or gold case, filled with various rich and fragrant balsams that a chemist, one of his students, had sent him from Germany.
21st August, 1653. I heard that good old man, Mr. Higham, the parson of the parish of Wotton where I was born, and who had baptized me, preach after his very plain way on Luke, comparing this troublesome world to the sea, the ministers to the fishermen, and the saints to the fish.
21st August, 1653. I heard that good old man, Mr. Higham, the parson of the parish of Wotton where I was born, and who had baptized me, preach in his very straightforward way on Luke, comparing this challenging world to the sea, the ministers to the fishermen, and the saints to the fish.
22d August, 1653. We all went to Guildford, to rejoice at the famous inn, the Red Lion, and to see the hospital, and the monument of Archbishop Abbot, the founder, who lies buried in the chapel of his endowment.
22nd August, 1653. We all went to Guildford to celebrate at the famous inn, the Red Lion, and to visit the hospital and the monument of Archbishop Abbot, the founder, who is buried in the chapel of his endowment.
28th September, 1653. At Greenwich preached that holy martyr, Dr. Hewer, on Psalm xc. 11, magnifying the grace of God to penitents, and threatening the[Pg 283] extinction of his Gospel light for the prodigious impiety of the age.
28th September, 1653. At Greenwich, the holy martyr Dr. Hewer preached on Psalm 90:11, emphasizing God's grace for those who repent and warning of the potential loss of His Gospel light due to the immense wickedness of the time.
11th October, 1653. My son, John Stansfield, was born, being my second child, and christened by the name of my mother's father, that name now quite extinct, being of Cheshire. Christened by Mr. Owen, in my library, at Sayes Court, where he afterward churched my wife, I always making use of him on these occasions, because the parish minister dared not have officiated according to the form and usage of the Church of England, to which I always adhered.
11th October, 1653. My son, John Stansfield, was born, making him my second child. He was named after my grandfather, a name that has now faded away, originating from Cheshire. He was baptized by Mr. Owen in my library at Sayes Court, where he also blessed my wife afterward. I always preferred to have him officiate during these events because the parish minister was hesitant to conduct the ceremony according to the practices and traditions of the Church of England, which I have always followed.
25th October, 1653. Mr. Owen preached in my library at Sayes Court on Luke xviii. 7, 8, an excellent discourse on the unjust judge, showing why Almighty God would sometimes be compared by such similitudes. He afterward administered to us all the Holy Sacrament.
25th October, 1653. Mr. Owen preached in my library at Sayes Court on Luke xviii. 7, 8, an excellent talk about the unjust judge, explaining why Almighty God might sometimes be compared to such examples. He afterward administered the Holy Sacrament to all of us.
28th October, 1653. Went to London, to visit my Lady Gerrard, where I saw that cursed woman called the Lady Norton, of whom it was reported that she spit in our King's face as he went to the scaffold. Indeed, her talk and discourse was like an impudent woman.
28th October, 1653. I went to London to visit Lady Gerrard, where I saw that awful woman known as Lady Norton, who was rumored to have spit in our King's face as he went to the scaffold. Honestly, her words and behavior were just like that of a shameless woman.
21st November, 1653. I went to London, to speak with Sir John Evelyn, my kinsman, about the purchase of an estate of Mr. Lambard's at Westeram, which afterward Sir John himself bought for his son-in-law, Leech.
21st November, 1653. I went to London to talk with Sir John Evelyn, my relative, about buying an estate from Mr. Lambard in Westeram, which Sir John later purchased himself for his son-in-law, Leech.
4th December, 1653. Going this day to our church, I was surprised to see a tradesman, a mechanic, step up; I was resolved yet to stay and see what he would make of it. His text was from 2 Sam. xxiii. 20: "And Benaiah went down also and slew a lion in the midst of a pit in the time of snow"; the purport was, that no danger was to be thought difficult when God called for shedding of blood, inferring that now the saints were called to destroy temporal governments; with such feculent stuff; so dangerous a crisis were things grown to.
4th December, 1653. Today, I went to our church and was surprised to see a tradesman, a mechanic, step up to speak. I decided to stay and see what he would say. His sermon was from 2 Sam. xxiii. 20: "And Benaiah went down also and killed a lion in the midst of a pit in the time of snow." The message was that no danger should seem too great when God calls for bloodshed, suggesting that now the saints were called to overthrow earthly governments. Such filthy ideas—things had become so dangerous.
25th December, 1653. Christmas day. No churches, or public assembly. I was fain to pass the devotions of that Blessed day with my family at home.
25th December, 1653. Christmas day. No churches or public gatherings. I was eager to spend the worship of that Blessed day with my family at home.
20th January, 1653-54. Come to see my old acquaintance and the most incomparable player on the Irish harp, Mr. Clark,48 after his travels. He was an excellent musician, a discreet gentleman, born in Devonshire (as I re[Pg 284]member). Such music before or since did I never hear, that instrument being neglected for its extraordinary difficulty; but, in my judgment, far superior to the lute itself, or whatever speaks with strings.
20th January, 1653-54. I went to see my old friend and the most amazing player of the Irish harp, Mr. Clark,48 after his travels. He was an excellent musician and a refined gentleman, born in Devonshire (as I remember). I’ve never heard such music before or since, as that instrument is often overlooked due to its exceptional difficulty; but, in my opinion, it's far superior to the lute or anything else that uses strings.
8th February, 1654. Ash Wednesday. In contradiction to all custom and decency, the usurper, Cromwell, feasted at the Lord Mayor's, riding in triumph through the city.
8th February, 1654. Ash Wednesday. Contrary to all custom and decency, the usurper, Cromwell, celebrated at the Lord Mayor's, riding triumphantly through the city.
14th February, 1654. I saw a tame lion play familiarly with a lamb; he was a huge beast, and I thrust my hand into his mouth and found his tongue rough like a cat's; a sheep also with six legs, which made use of five of them to walk; a goose that had four legs, two crops, and as many vents.
14th February, 1654. I saw a domesticated lion playing playfully with a lamb; he was a massive creature, and I put my hand into his mouth and discovered that his tongue was rough like a cat's; a sheep with six legs, using five of them to walk; a goose that had four legs, two crops, and as many vents.
29th March, 1654. That excellent man, Mr. Owen, preached in my library on Matt. xxviii. 6, a resurrection sermon, and after it we all received the Holy Communion.
29th March, 1654. That wonderful man, Mr. Owen, preached in my library on Matt. xxviii. 6, a sermon about the resurrection, and afterwards we all took part in the Holy Communion.
6th April, 1654. Came my Lord Herbert, Sir Kenelm Digby, Mr. Denham, and other friends to see me.
6th April, 1654. My Lord Herbert, Sir Kenelm Digby, Mr. Denham, and a few other friends came to visit me.
15th April, 1654. I went to London to hear the famous Jeremy Taylor (since Bishop of Down and Connor) at St. Gregory's (near St. Paul's) on Matt. vi, 48, concerning evangelical perfection.
15th April, 1654. I went to London to hear the renowned Jeremy Taylor (who later became Bishop of Down and Connor) at St. Gregory's (near St. Paul's) on Matt. vi, 48, about evangelical perfection.
5th May, 1654. I bound my lackey, Thomas Headly, apprentice to a carpenter, giving with him five pounds and new clothing; he thrived very well, and became rich.
5th May, 1654. I hired my servant, Thomas Headly, as an apprentice to a carpenter, giving him five pounds and new clothes; he did very well and became wealthy.
8th May, 1654. I went to Hackney, to see Lady Brook's garden, which was one of the neatest and most celebrated in England, the house well furnished, but a despicable building. Returning, visited one Mr. Tomb's garden; it has large and noble walks, some modern statues, a vineyard, planted in strawberry borders, staked at ten feet distances, the banqueting-house of cedar, where the couch and seats were carved à l'antique; some good pictures in the house, especially one of Vandyke's, being a man in his shirt; also some of Stenwyck. I also called at Mr. Ducie's, who has indeed a rare collection of the best masters, and one of the largest stories of H. Hol[Pg 285]bein. I also saw Sir Thomas Fowler's aviary, which is a poor business.
8th May, 1654. I went to Hackney to check out Lady Brook's garden, which was one of the neatest and most famous in England. The house was nicely furnished, but the building itself was unimpressive. On the way back, I stopped by Mr. Tomb's garden; it has large, impressive walkways, some modern statues, and a vineyard planted with strawberry borders spaced ten feet apart. There's also a cedar banqueting house, where the couch and seats were carved in an ancient style; there are some good paintings in the house, especially one by Vandyke of a man in his shirt, and a few by Stenwyck. I also visited Mr. Ducie's place, who has an extraordinary collection of works by the best masters, including one of the largest collections of H. Holbein. I also saw Sir Thomas Fowler's aviary, which was quite disappointing.

OLIVER CROMWELL DICTATING TO JOHN MILTON
OLIVER CROMWELL DICTATING TO JOHN MILTON
The letter to the Duke of Savoy to stop the persecution of the Protestants of Piedmont, 1655. Photogravure from an engraving by Sartain after Newenham
The letter to the Duke of Savoy to stop the persecution of the Protestants of Piedmont, 1655. Photogravure from an engraving by Sartain after Newenham
10th May, 1654. My Lady Gerrard treated us at Mulberry Garden, now the only place of refreshment about the town for persons of the best quality to be exceedingly cheated at; Cromwell and his partisans having shut up and seized on Spring Garden, which, till now, had been the usual rendezvous for the ladies and gallants at this season.
10th May, 1654. My Lady Gerrard hosted us at Mulberry Garden, now the only spot in town for high-quality people to be seriously overcharged; Cromwell and his supporters have closed down and taken over Spring Garden, which had been the usual meeting place for ladies and gentlemen this season.
11th May, 1654. I now observed how the women began to paint themselves, formerly a most ignominious thing, and used only by prostitutes.
11th May, 1654. I now noticed how women started to wear makeup, which used to be a shameful thing, only done by prostitutes.
14th May, 1654. There being no such thing as church anniversaries in the parochial assemblies, I was forced to provide at home for Whit Sunday.
14th May, 1654. Since there were no church anniversaries in the local gatherings, I had to prepare for Whit Sunday at home.
15th May, 1654. Came Sir Robert Stapylton, the translator of "Juvenal," to visit me.
15th May, 1654. Sir Robert Stapylton, the translator of "Juvenal," came to visit me.
8th June, 1654. My wife and I set out in a coach and four horses, in our way to visit relations of hers in Wiltshire, and other parts, where we resolved to spend some months. We dined at Windsor, saw the Castle and Chapel of St. George, where they have laid our blessed Martyr, King Charles, in the VAULT JUST BEFORE THE ALTAR. The church and workmanship in stone is admirable. The Castle itself is large in circumference; but the rooms melancholy, and of ancient magnificence. The keep, or mount, hath, besides its incomparable prospect, a very profound well; and the terrace toward Eton, with the park, meandering Thames, and sweet meadows, yield one of the most delightful prospects. That night, we lay at Reading. Saw my Lord Craven's house at Causam [Caversham], now in ruins, his goodly woods felling by the Rebels.
8th June, 1654. My wife and I set off in a coach pulled by four horses to visit her relatives in Wiltshire and other areas, where we planned to spend a few months. We had lunch in Windsor and toured the Castle and Chapel of St. George, where they have laid our blessed Martyr, King Charles, in the VAULT RIGHT BEFORE THE ALTAR. The church and the stonework are impressive. The Castle itself is large, but the rooms feel gloomy and are of old grandeur. The keep, or mount, not only offers an incomparable view but also has a very deep well; the terrace facing Eton, along with the park, winding Thames, and lovely meadows, provides one of the most delightful prospects. That night, we stayed in Reading. I saw my Lord Craven's house at Causam [Caversham], which is now in ruins, with his splendid woods being cut down by the Rebels.
9th June, 1654. Dined at Marlborough, which having been lately fired, was now new built. At one end of this town, we saw my Lord Seymour's house, but nothing observable save the Mount, to which we ascended by windings for near half a mile. It seems to have been cast up by hand. We passed by Colonel Popham's, a noble seat, park, and river. Thence, to Newbury, a considerable town, and Donnington, famous for its battle, siege, and castle, this last had been in the possession of old Geoffrey Chaucer. Then to Aldermaston, a house of Sir Humphrey Forster's, built à la moderne. Also, that exceedingly[Pg 286] beautiful seat of my Lord Pembroke, on the ascent of hill, flanked with wood, and regarding the river, and so, at night, to Cadenham, the mansion of Edward Hungerford, Esq., uncle to my wife, where we made some stay. The rest of the week we did nothing but feast and make good cheer, to welcome my wife.
9th June, 1654. Had dinner in Marlborough, which had recently burned down and was now rebuilt. On one side of the town, we saw my Lord Seymour's house, but nothing much to note except the Mount, which we climbed up through winding paths for almost half a mile. It seems to have been built by hand. We passed by Colonel Popham's, a grand estate with a park and a river. Then we headed to Newbury, a significant town, and Donnington, known for its battle, siege, and castle; the castle had once been owned by the old Geoffrey Chaucer. After that, we went to Aldermaston, the house of Sir Humphrey Forster, which was built in a modern style. We also saw the extremely beautiful estate of my Lord Pembroke, located on the hill, surrounded by woods, and overlooking the river, and finally, at night, we arrived at Cadenham, the home of Edward Hungerford, Esq., my wife's uncle, where we stayed for a while. The rest of the week, we just feasted and celebrated to welcome my wife.
27th June, 1654. We all went to see Bath, where I bathed in the cross bath. Among the rest of the idle diversions of the town, one musician was famous for acting a changeling, which indeed he personated strangely.
27th June, 1654. We all went to see Bath, where I bathed in the cross bath. Among the other leisurely activities in the town, one musician was well-known for pretending to be a changeling, which he really portrayed in a remarkable way.
The facciáta of this cathedral is remarkable for its historical carving. The King's Bath is esteemed the fairest in Europe. The town is entirely built of stone, but the streets narrow, uneven and unpleasant. Here, we trifled and bathed, and intervisited with the company who frequent the place for health, till the 30th, and then went to Bristol, a city emulating London, not for its large extent, but manner of building, shops, bridge, traffic, exchange, market-place, etc. The governor showed us the castle, of no great concernment. The city wholly mercantile, as standing near the famous Severn, commodiously for Ireland, and the Western world. Here I first saw the manner of refining sugar and casting it into loaves, where we had a collection of eggs fried in the sugar furnace, together with excellent Spanish wine. But, what appeared most stupendous to me, was the rock of St. Vincent, a little distance from the town, the precipice whereof is equal to anything of that nature I have seen in the most confragose cataracts of the Alps, the river gliding between them at an extraordinary depth. Here, we went searching for diamonds, and to the Hot Wells, at its foot. There is also on the side of this horrid Alp a very romantic seat: and so we returned to Bath in the evening, and July 1st to Cadenham.
The facciáta of this cathedral is outstanding because of its historical carvings. The King's Bath is considered the most beautiful in Europe. The town is entirely made of stone, but the streets are narrow, uneven, and unpleasant. Here, we lingered and bathed, socializing with the people who visit for their health until the 30th, and then went to Bristol, a city that rivals London, not for its size, but for its architecture, shops, bridge, traffic, exchange, and marketplace. The governor showed us the castle, which wasn’t very significant. The city is completely commercial, situated near the famous Severn River, making it convenient for trade with Ireland and the Western world. It was here that I first witnessed how sugar is refined and made into loaves, and we enjoyed fried eggs from the sugar furnace along with excellent Spanish wine. However, what impressed me the most was the rock of St. Vincent, a short distance from the town, whose cliff is as impressive as any I have seen in the huge waterfalls of the Alps, with the river flowing between them at an astonishing depth. Here, we looked for diamonds and visited the Hot Wells at its base. There’s also a very picturesque spot on the side of this rugged mountain. We then returned to Bath in the evening and on July 1st went to Cadenham.
4th July, 1654. On a letter from my wife's uncle, Mr. Pretyman, I waited back on her to London, passing by Hungerford, a town famous for its trouts, and the next day arrived at Deptford, which was 60 miles, in the extremity of heat.
4th July, 1654. After receiving a letter from my wife's uncle, Mr. Pretyman, I returned to London with her, passing through Hungerford, a town known for its trout, and the next day I arrived in Deptford, which was 60 miles away, in the extreme heat.
6th July, 1654. I went early to London, and the following day met my wife and company at Oxford, the eve of the Act.[Pg 287]
6th July, 1654. I went to London early, and the next day I met my wife and companions at Oxford, the night before the Act.[Pg 287]
8th July, 1654. Was spent in hearing several exercises in the schools; and, after dinner, the Proctor opened the Act at St. Mary's (according to custom), and the Prevaricators, their drollery. Then, the Doctors disputed. We supped at Wadham College.
8th July, 1654. Was spent attending various presentations at the schools; and, after lunch, the Proctor started the event at St. Mary's (as usual), and the Prevaricators, with their humor. Then, the Doctors debated. We had dinner at Wadham College.
9th July, 1654. Dr. French preached at St. Mary's, on Matt. xii. 42, advising the students the search after true wisdom, not to be had in the books of philosophers, but in the Scriptures alone. In the afternoon, the famous Independent, Dr. Owen, perstringing Episcopacy. He was now Cromwell's Vice-Chancellor. We dined with Dr. Ward, Mathematical Professor (since Bishop of Sarum), and at night supped in Baliol College Hall, where I had once been student and fellow-commoner, and where they made me extraordinarily welcome.
9th July, 1654. Dr. French preached at St. Mary's, on Matt. xii. 42, encouraging the students to seek true wisdom, which can be found not in the works of philosophers but in the Scriptures alone. In the afternoon, the well-known Independent, Dr. Owen, criticized Episcopacy. At this time, he was Cromwell's Vice-Chancellor. We had dinner with Dr. Ward, the Mathematical Professor (who later became Bishop of Sarum), and that night we had supper in Baliol College Hall, where I had once been a student and fellow-commoner, and they made me feel exceptionally welcome.
10th July, 1654. On Monday, I went again to the schools, to hear the several faculties, and in the afternoon tarried out the whole Act in St. Mary's, the long speeches of the Proctors, the Vice-Chancellor, the several Professors, creation of Doctors, by the cap, ring, kiss, etc., those ancient ceremonies and institution being as yet not wholly abolished. Dr. Kendal, now Inceptor among others, performing his Act incomparably well, concluded it with an excellent oration, abating his Presbyterian animosities, which he withheld, not even against that learned and pious divine, Dr. Hammond. The Act was closed with the speech of the Vice-Chancellor, there being but four in theology, and three in medicine, which was thought a considerable matter, the times considered. I dined at one Monsieur Fiat's, a student of Exeter College, and supped at a magnificent entertainment of Wadham Hall, invited by my dear and excellent friend, Dr. Wilkins, then Warden (after, Bishop of Chester).
10th July, 1654. On Monday, I went back to the schools to attend the various faculties, and in the afternoon, I stayed for the entire Act at St. Mary's, watching the lengthy speeches from the Proctors, the Vice-Chancellor, and the different Professors, the awarding of Doctorates with the cap, ring, kiss, etc., as those old ceremonies and institutions have not yet been completely abolished. Dr. Kendal, now an Inceptor among others, performed his Act incredibly well, finishing with an excellent oration, setting aside his Presbyterian biases, which he kept even towards that learned and pious divine, Dr. Hammond. The Act concluded with the Vice-Chancellor's speech, with only four in theology and three in medicine, which was considered significant given the circumstances. I had lunch at the home of Monsieur Fiat, a student from Exeter College, and had dinner at a lavish gathering at Wadham Hall, invited by my dear and wonderful friend, Dr. Wilkins, who was then the Warden (later Bishop of Chester).
11th July, 1654. Was the Latin sermon, which I could not be at, though invited, being taken up at All Souls, where we had music, voices, and theorbos, performed by some ingenious scholars. After dinner, I visited that miracle of a youth, Mr. Christopher Wren, nephew to the Bishop of Ely. Then Mr. Barlow (since Bishop of Lincoln), bibliothecarius of the Bodleian Library, my most learned friend. He showed us the rarities of that most famous place, manuscripts, medals, and other curiosities. Among the MSS. an old English Bible, wherein[Pg 288] the Eunuch mentioned to be baptized by Philip, is called the Gelding: "and Philip and the Gelding went down into the water," etc. The original Acts of the Council of Basil 900 years since, with the bulla, or leaden affix, which has a silken cord passing through every parchment; a MS. of Venerable Bede of 800 years antiquity; the old Ritual secundum usum Sarum exceeding voluminous; then, among the nicer curiosities, the "Proverbs of Solomon," written in French by a lady, every chapter of a several character, or hand, the most exquisite imaginable; an hieroglyphical table, or carta, folded up like a map, I suppose it painted on asses' hide, extremely rare; but, what is most illustrious, there were no less than 1,000 MSS. in nineteen languages, especially Oriental, furnishing that new part of the library built by Archbishop Laud, from a design of Sir Kenelm Digby and the Earl of Pembroke. In the closet of the tower, they show some Indian weapons, urns, lamps, etc., but the rarest is the whole Alcoran, written on one large sheet of calico, made up in a priest's vesture, or cope, after the Turkish and Arabic character, so exquisitely written, as no printed letter comes near it; also, a roll of magical charms, divers talismans, and some medals.
July 11, 1654. I missed the Latin sermon at All Souls, even though I was invited, where they had music, voices, and theorbos performed by some talented scholars. After dinner, I visited the amazing young man, Mr. Christopher Wren, who is the nephew of the Bishop of Ely. Then I saw Mr. Barlow, who later became the Bishop of Lincoln, the librarian of the Bodleian Library and my highly knowledgeable friend. He showed us the treasures of that famous place, including manuscripts, medals, and other curiosities. Among the manuscripts, there was an old English Bible where the Eunuch mentioned to be baptized by Philip is called the Gelding: "and Philip and the Gelding went down into the water," etc. There were the original Acts of the Council of Basil from 900 years ago, with the bulla, or leaden seal, that has a silken cord running through every parchment; a manuscript of Venerable Bede that is 800 years old; the old Ritual according to the use of Sarum, which is extremely large; and among the more delicate curiosities, the "Proverbs of Solomon," written in French by a woman, each chapter in a different beautiful style; a hieroglyphic table, or map, folded like a map, probably painted on donkey hide, which is extremely rare; but what is most impressive is that there were no less than 1,000 manuscripts in nineteen languages, especially Oriental, filling the new part of the library built by Archbishop Laud, designed by Sir Kenelm Digby and the Earl of Pembroke. In the closet of the tower, they displayed some Indian weapons, urns, lamps, etc., but the rarest of all is the entire Quran, written on one large piece of calico, made into a priest's garment, in Turkish and Arabic script, so exquisitely written that no printed letter comes close to it; also, a roll of magical charms, various talismans, and some medals.
Then, I led my wife into the Convocation House, finely wainscoted; the Divinity School, and Gothic carved roof; the Physic, or Anatomy School, adorned with some rarities of natural things; but nothing extraordinary save the skin of a jackal, a rarely-colored jackatoo, or prodigious large parrot, two humming birds, not much bigger than our bumblebee, which indeed I had not seen before, that I remember.
Then, I took my wife into the Convocation House, beautifully paneled; the Divinity School, with its intricately carved Gothic roof; the Physic, or Anatomy School, decorated with some unique natural items; but nothing remarkable except for the skin of a jackal, a brightly colored cockatoo, or a huge parrot, and two hummingbirds, which were not much bigger than our bumblebee, which honestly I had never seen before, as far as I can remember.
12th July, 1654. We went to St. John's, saw the library and the two skeletons, which are finely cleansed and put together; observable is here also the store of mathematical instruments, chiefly given by the late Archbishop Laud, who built here a handsome quadrangle.
12th July, 1654. We visited St. John's, checked out the library and the two skeletons, which are nicely cleaned and assembled; there's also a collection of mathematical instruments, mainly donated by the late Archbishop Laud, who constructed a beautiful quadrangle here.
Thence we went to New College, where the chapel was in its ancient garb, notwithstanding the scrupulosity of the times. Thence, to Christ's Church, in whose library was shown us an Office of Henry VIII., the writing, miniatures, and gilding whereof is equal, if not surpassing, any curiosity I had seen of that kind; it was given by their founder, Cardinal Wolsey. The glass win[Pg 289]dows of the cathedral (famous in my time) I found much abused. The ample hall and column, that spreads its capital to sustain the roof as one goes up the stairs, is very remarkable.
Then we went to New College, where the chapel still looked ancient despite the strictness of the times. Next, we visited Christ Church, where we were shown a book from Henry VIII.'s office. The writing, illustrations, and gilding in it were just as impressive, if not more so, than any other artifact of that kind I had seen; it was given by their founder, Cardinal Wolsey. I found the stained glass windows of the cathedral (which were famous during my time) to be quite damaged. The large hall and column that supports the roof as you go up the stairs are very noteworthy.
Next we walked to Magdalen College, where we saw the library and chapel, which was likewise in pontifical order, the altar only I think turned tablewise, and there was still the double organ, which abominations (as now esteemed) were almost universally demolished; Mr. Gibbon, that famous musician, giving us a taste of his skill and talents on that instrument.
Next, we walked to Magdalen College, where we saw the library and chapel, which was also set up in a grand style. The altar, I think, was turned sideways, and the double organ, which is now considered an eyesore, was still there; Mr. Gibbon, the famous musician, showcased his skills and talent on that instrument.
Hence, to the Physic Garden, where the sensitive plant was shown us for a great wonder. There grew canes, olive trees, rhubarb, but no extraordinary curiosities, besides very good fruit, which, when the ladies had tasted, we returned in our coach to our lodgings.
Hence, we went to the Physic Garden, where we were shown the sensitive plant, which was quite a wonder. There were canes, olive trees, rhubarb, but no extraordinary curiosities, besides some really good fruit, which the ladies tasted. Afterwards, we returned to our lodgings in our coach.
13th July, 1654. We all dined at that most obliging and universally-curious Dr. Wilkins's, at Wadham College. He was the first who showed me the transparent apiaries, which he had built like castles and palaces, and so ordered them one upon another, as to take the honey without destroying the bees. These were adorned with a variety of dials, little statues, vanes, etc.; and, he was so abundantly civil, finding me pleased with them, to present me with one of the hives which he had empty, and which I afterward had in my garden at Sayes Court, where it continued many years, and which his Majesty came on purpose to see and contemplate with much satisfaction. He had also contrived a hollow statue, which gave a voice and uttered words by a long, concealed pipe that went to its mouth,49 while one speaks through it at a good distance. He had, above in his lodgings and gallery, variety of shadows, dials, perspectives, and many other artificial, mathematical, and magical curiosities, a waywiser, a thermometer, a monstrous magnet, conic, and other sections, a balance on a demi-circle; most of them of his own, and that prodigious young scholar Mr. Christopher Wren, who presented me with a piece of white marble, which he had stained with a lively red, very deep, as beautiful as if it had been natural.
13th July, 1654. We all had dinner at the incredibly accommodating and widely curious Dr. Wilkins's place at Wadham College. He was the first to show me the transparent beehives he had constructed like castles and palaces, arranged one on top of the other so he could collect honey without harming the bees. These were decorated with various dials, small statues, weather vanes, etc.; and he was so gracious, noticing my enjoyment, that he gave me one of the empty hives, which I later placed in my garden at Sayes Court, where it remained for many years and was visited by His Majesty, who came specifically to see and admire it with great pleasure. He also created a hollow statue that could speak and produce words through a long hidden pipe leading to its mouth, while someone spoke into it from a distance. In his rooms and gallery, he had a variety of shadows, dials, perspectives, and many other artificial, mathematical, and magical curiosities, a wayfinder, a thermometer, a huge magnet, conic sections, and other geometrical shapes, along with a balance on a semicircle; most of them were his own creations, alongside that remarkable young scholar, Mr. Christopher Wren, who gifted me a piece of white marble that he had beautifully stained with a deep, vibrant red, as stunning as if it were natural.
Thus satisfied with the civilities of Oxford, we left it,[Pg 290] dining at Farringdon, a town which had been newly fired during the wars; and, passing near the seat of Sir Walter Pye, we came to Cadenham.
Thus satisfied with the hospitality of Oxford, we left it,[Pg 290] dining in Farringdon, a town that had recently been burned during the wars; and, passing by the estate of Sir Walter Pye, we arrived at Cadenham.
16th July, 1654. We went to another uncle and relative of my wife's, Sir John Glanville, a famous lawyer, formerly Speaker of the House of Commons; his seat is at Broad Hinton, where he now lived but in the gate-house, his very fair dwelling house having been burnt by his own hands, to prevent the rebels making a garrison of it. Here, my cousin William Glanville's eldest son showed me such a lock for a door, that for its filing, and rare contrivances was a masterpiece, yet made by a country blacksmith. But, we have seen watches made by another with as much curiosity as the best of that profession can brag of; and, not many years after, there was nothing more frequent than all sorts of ironwork more exquisitely wrought and polished than in any part of Europe, so as a door lock of a tolerable price was esteemed a curiosity even among foreign princes.
16th July, 1654. We visited another uncle and relative of my wife's, Sir John Glanville, a well-known lawyer who used to be the Speaker of the House of Commons. He lived at Broad Hinton, currently in the gate-house since his beautiful house had been burned down by him to stop the rebels from using it as a stronghold. Here, my cousin William Glanville's eldest son showed me an impressive door lock that, with its craftsmanship and clever designs, was a true masterpiece, made by a local blacksmith. We've seen watches made by others with just as much detail as the best in the field can boast of. Not many years later, it became common to find various types of ironwork that were more beautifully designed and polished than anything else in Europe, making a reasonably priced door lock a point of fascination even among foreign princes.
Went back to Cadenham, and, on the 19th, to Sir Edward Baynton's at Spie Park, a place capable of being made a noble seat; but the humorous old knight has built a long single house of two low stories on the precipice of an incomparable prospect, and landing on a bowling-green in the park. The house is like a long barn, and has not a window on the prospect side. After dinner, they went to bowls, and, in the meantime, our coachmen were made so exceedingly drunk, that in returning home we escaped great dangers. This, it seems, was by order of the knight, that all gentlemen's servants be so treated; but the custom is barbarous, and much unbecoming a knight still less a Christian.
Went back to Cadenham, and on the 19th, to Sir Edward Baynton's at Spie Park, a place that could be made into an impressive estate; but the quirky old knight has built a long, single-story house with two low levels on the edge of an amazing view, landing on a bowling green in the park. The house looks like a long barn and has no windows on the side facing the view. After dinner, they played bowls, and in the meantime, our drivers got so incredibly drunk that on the way home we faced serious dangers. Apparently, this was by the knight's order, that all gentlemen's servants be treated this way; but the custom is barbaric and hardly fitting for a knight, let alone a Christian.
20th July, 1654. We proceeded to Salisbury; the cathedral I take to be the most complete piece of Gothic work in Europe, taken in all its uniformity. The pillars, reputed to be cast, are of stone manifestly cut out of the quarry; most observable are those in the chapter house. There are some remarkable monuments, particularly the ancient Bishops, founders of the Church, Knights Templars, the Marquis of Hertford's, the cloisters of the palace and garden, and the great mural dial.
20th July, 1654. We went to Salisbury; I believe the cathedral is the most complete example of Gothic architecture in Europe, especially in its uniformity. The pillars, thought to be cast, are clearly made of stone quarried from the ground; the ones in the chapter house are particularly striking. There are some notable monuments, especially those of the ancient Bishops, founders of the Church, Knights Templars, the Marquis of Hertford, the cloisters of the palace and garden, and the large mural sundial.
In the afternoon we went to Wilton, a fine house of the Earl of Pembroke, in which the most observable are[Pg 291] the dining room in the modern-built part toward the garden, richly gilded and painted with story, by De Crete; also some other apartments, as that of hunting landscapes, by Pierce; some magnificent chimney-pieces, after the best French manner; a pair of artificial winding stairs of stone, and divers rare pictures. The garden, heretofore esteemed the noblest in England, is a large handsome plain, with a grotto and waterworks, which might be made much more pleasant, were the river that passes through cleansed and raised; for all is effected by a mere force. It has a flower garden, not inelegant. But, after all, that which renders the seat delightful is, its being so near the downs and noble plains about the country contiguous to it. The stables are well ordered and yield a graceful front, by reason of the walks of lime trees, with the court and fountain of the stables adorned with the Cæsars' heads.
In the afternoon, we went to Wilton, a lovely house owned by the Earl of Pembroke. The highlights include [Pg 291] the dining room in the newly built section facing the garden, which is richly gilded and painted with stories by De Crete. There are also some other rooms, like the one featuring hunting landscapes by Pierce, stunning fireplace mantels in a top-notch French style, a pair of winding stone stairs, and various rare paintings. The garden, once considered the finest in England, is a large and attractive open space with a grotto and waterworks that could be much more enjoyable if the river running through it were cleaned and raised, as it currently relies on just basic flow. It has a flower garden that isn’t too shabby either. But ultimately, what makes the place delightful is its proximity to the downs and beautiful plains surrounding it. The stables are well-kept and present an elegant front, thanks to the lime tree walkways, with the courtyard and fountain adorned with the heads of the Caesars.
We returned this evening by the plain, and fourteen-mile race, where out of my lord's hare warren we were entertained with a long course of a hare for near two miles in sight. Near this, is a pergola, or stand, built to view the sports; and so we came to Salisbury, and saw the most considerable parts of the city. The market place, with most of the streets, are watered by a quick current and pure stream running through the middle of them, but are negligently kept, when with a small charge they might be purged and rendered infinitely agreeable, and this made one of the sweetest towns, but now the common buildings are despicable, and the streets dirty.
We came back this evening via the plain and the fourteen-mile course, where we enjoyed a long chase of a hare for nearly two miles in sight from my lord's hare warren. Close by, there's a pergola or stand built for watching the sports; then we arrived in Salisbury and explored the main parts of the city. The marketplace, along with most of the streets, is lined by a quick-flowing, clean stream running through the middle of them, but they are poorly maintained when, for a small cost, they could be cleaned up and made incredibly pleasant. This used to be one of the sweetest towns, but now the common buildings are shabby, and the streets are dirty.
22d July, 1654. We departed and dined at a farm of my Uncle Hungerford's, called Darnford Magna, situated in a valley under the plain, most sweetly watered, abounding in trouts caught by spear in the night, when they come attracted by a light set in the stern of a boat.
22nd July, 1654. We left and had lunch at my Uncle Hungerford's farm, called Darnford Magna, located in a valley below the plain, beautifully watered, full of trout caught by spear at night when they are drawn to a light placed at the back of a boat.
After dinner, continuing our return, we passed over the goodly plain, or rather sea of carpet, which I think for evenness, extent, verdure, and innumerable flocks, to be one of the most delightful prospects in nature, and reminded me of the pleasant lives of shepherds we read of in romances.
After dinner, on our way back, we crossed the lovely plain, or more like a sea of carpet, which I believe, for its smoothness, size, greenery, and countless flocks, is one of the most beautiful sights in nature, and it made me think of the nice lives of shepherds we read about in stories.
Now we arrived at Stonehenge, indeed a stupendous monument, appearing at a distance like a castle; how so[Pg 292] many and huge pillars of stone should have been brought together, some erect, others transverse on the tops of them, in a circular area as rudely representing a cloister or heathen and more natural temple, is wonderful. The stone is so exceedingly hard, that all my strength with a hammer could not break a fragment; which hardness I impute to their so long exposure. To number them exactly is very difficult, they lie in such variety of postures and confusion, though they seemed not to exceed 100; we counted only 95. As to their being brought thither, there being no navigable river near, is by some admired; but for the stone, there seems to be the same kind about 20 miles distant, some of which appear above ground. About the same hills, are divers mounts raised, conceived to be ancient intrenchments, or places of burial, after bloody fights. We now went by Devizes, a reasonable large town, and came late to Cadenham.
Now we’ve arrived at Stonehenge, truly an amazing monument that looks like a castle from a distance. It's incredible how so many massive stone pillars have been assembled, some standing upright and others laid across the tops, creating a circular area that vaguely resembles a cloister or a more natural temple. The stone is so hard that I couldn't break off even a small piece with all my strength using a hammer; I believe this toughness comes from being exposed to the elements for such a long time. It's quite difficult to count them accurately since they’re in various positions and in disarray, but they don’t seem to exceed 100; we counted only 95. As for how they were transported here, some find it remarkable since there’s no navigable river nearby. However, there seem to be similar stones about 20 miles away, some of which are visible above ground. Around the same hills, there are several mounds believed to be ancient fortifications or burial sites from past battles. We then passed through Devizes, a reasonably large town, and arrived late at Cadenham.
27th July, 1654. To the hunting of a sorel deer, and had excellent chase for four or five hours, but the venison little worth.
27th July, 1654. Went hunting for a sorel deer and had a great chase for four or five hours, but the meat was not very good.
29th July, 1654. I went to Langford to see my Cousin Stephens. I also saw Dryfield, the house heretofore of Sir John Pretyman, grandfather to my wife, and sold by her uncle; both the seat and house very honorable and well built, much after the modern fashion.
29th July, 1654. I went to Langford to visit my cousin Stephens. I also saw Dryfield, the former home of Sir John Pretyman, my wife's grandfather, which was sold by her uncle; both the estate and the house are quite impressive and well-constructed, much like modern style.
31st July, 1654. Taking leave of Cadenham, where we had been long and nobly entertained, we went a compass into Leicestershire, where dwelt another relation of my wife's; for I indeed made these excursions to show her the most considerable parts of her native country, who, from her childhood, had lived altogether in France, as well as for my own curiosity and information.
31st July, 1654. After saying goodbye to Cadenham, where we had been graciously hosted for a long time, we took a detour into Leicestershire, where another relative of my wife lived. I made these trips to show her the most notable parts of her home country, since she had spent her entire childhood in France, as well as for my own curiosity and knowledge.
About two miles before coming to Gloucester, we have a prospect from woody hills into a most goodly vale and country. Gloucester is a handsome city, considerable for the church and monuments. The minster is indeed a noble fabric. The whispering gallery is rare, being through a passage of twenty-five yards in a many-angled cloister, and was, I suppose, either to show the skill of the architect, or some invention of a cunning priest, who, standing unseen in a recess in the middle of the chapel,[Pg 293] might hear whatever was spoken at either end. This is above the choir, in which lies buried King Stephen50 under a monument of Irish oak, not ill carved considering the age. The new library is a noble though a private design. I was likewise pleased with the Severn gliding so sweetly by it. The Duke's house, the castle works, are now almost quite dismantled; nor yet without sad thoughts did I see the town, considering how fatal the siege had been a few years before to our good King.
About two miles before reaching Gloucester, we get a view from the wooded hills into a really beautiful valley and countryside. Gloucester is a nice city, notable for its church and monuments. The cathedral is truly impressive. The whispering gallery is unique, located through a 25-yard passage in a multi-angled cloister, and I think it was designed to showcase the architect's skill or maybe it was some invention by a clever priest who, hidden in a recess in the middle of the chapel, could hear everything said at either end. This is above the choir, where King Stephen is buried under a monument of Irish oak, which is pretty well carved for its age. The new library is a grand, though private, design. I was also charmed by the Severn flowing gently by. The Duke's house and the castle are now almost completely in ruins; it was hard not to feel sad seeing the town, especially considering how devastating the siege was just a few years earlier for our good King.
1st August, 1654. We set out toward Worcester, by a way thickly planted with cider fruit. We deviated to the Holy Wells, trickling out of a valley through a steep declivity toward the foot of the great Malvern Hills; they are said to heal many infirmities, as king's evil, leprosy, sore eyes, etc. Ascending a great height above them to the trench dividing England from South Wales, we had the prospect of all Herefordshire, Radnor, Brecknoch, Monmouth, Worcester, Gloucester, Shropshire, Warwick, Derbyshires, and many more. We could discern Tewkesbury, King's road, toward Bristol, etc.; so as I esteem it one of the goodliest vistas in England.
1st August, 1654. We headed toward Worcester, along a route lined with apple trees. We took a detour to the Holy Wells, which flow out of a valley down a steep slope toward the base of the great Malvern Hills; they are said to cure many ailments, like scrofula, leprosy, sore eyes, and more. Climbing to a high point at the trench that separates England from South Wales, we had a view of all of Herefordshire, Radnor, Brecknock, Monmouth, Worcester, Gloucester, Shropshire, Warwick, Derbyshire, and many others. We could see Tewkesbury and the main road to Bristol, among other sights; I consider it one of the most beautiful views in England.
2d August, 1654. This evening we arrived at Worcester, the Judges of Assize and Sheriff just entering as we did. Viewing the town the next day, we found the Cathedral much ruined by the late wars, otherwise a noble structure. The town is neatly paved and very clean, the goodly river Severn running by it, and standing in a most fertile country.
2nd August, 1654. This evening we arrived in Worcester, just as the judges and sheriff were entering. The next day, while exploring the town, we noticed that the Cathedral was quite damaged from the recent wars, but it’s still an impressive building. The town is well-paved and very clean, with the beautiful River Severn flowing nearby, all set in a highly fertile area.
3d August, 1654. We passed next through Warwick, and saw the castle, the dwelling house of the Lord Brook, and the furniture noble. It is built on an eminent rock which gives prospect into a most goodly green, a woody and plentifully watered country; the river running so delightfully under it, that it may pass for one of the most surprising seats one should meet with. The gardens are prettily disposed; but might be much improved. Here they showed us Sir Guy's great two-handed sword, staff, horse-arms, pot, and other relics of that famous knight-errant. Warwick is a fair old town, and hath one church full of ancient monuments.
3rd August, 1654. We then went through Warwick and saw the castle, the residence of Lord Brook, and its impressive furnishings. It's built on a high rock that overlooks beautiful greenery, a wooded area rich in water; the river flows so charmingly underneath it that it’s one of the most stunning locations you could find. The gardens are nicely arranged, though they could definitely be better. Here, they showed us Sir Guy's great two-handed sword, staff, horse armor, pot, and other relics from that famous knight-errant. Warwick is a lovely old town and has one church filled with ancient monuments.
Having viewed these, I went to visit my worthy friend,[Pg 294] Sir H. Puckering, at the Abbey, and though a melancholy old seat, yet in a rich soil.
Having seen these, I went to visit my good friend,[Pg 294] Sir H. Puckering, at the Abbey. It's a sad old place, but it has fertile land.
Hence to Sir Guy's grot, where they say he did his penances, and died. It is a squalid den made in the rock, crowned yet with venerable oaks and looking on a goodly stream, so as, were it improved as it might be, it were capable of being made a most romantic and pleasant place. Near this, we were showed his chapel and gigantic statue hewn out of the solid rock, out of which there are likewise divers other caves cut, and some very capacious.
So we went to Sir Guy's grotto, where they say he did his penances and died. It’s a shabby cave carved into the rock, yet surrounded by ancient oaks and overlooking a lovely stream. If it were improved, it could really become a romantic and nice place. Nearby, we were shown his chapel and a huge statue carved from solid rock, along with several other caves that are quite spacious.
The next place to Coventry. The cross is remarkable for Gothic work and rich gilding, comparable to any I had ever seen, except that of Cheapside in London, now demolished. This city has many handsome churches, a beautiful wall, a fair free school and library to it; the streets full of great shops, clean and well paved. At going forth the gate, they show us the bone, or rib, of a wild boar, said to have been killed by Sir Guy, but which I take to be the chine of a whale.
The next stop is Coventry. The cross there is impressive, with Gothic designs and rich gold leaf, rivaling anything I’ve ever seen, except for the one in Cheapside in London, which is now gone. This city has many beautiful churches, a lovely wall, and a nice free school and library. The streets are filled with great shops, clean, and well-paved. As we exit the gate, they show us a bone or rib from a wild boar, said to have been killed by Sir Guy, but I think it’s actually a whale's backbone.
4th August, 1654. Hence, riding through a considerable part of Leicestershire, an open, rich, but unpleasant country, we came late in the evening to Horninghold, a seat of my wife's uncle.
4th August, 1654. So, after riding through a large part of Leicestershire, which is an open, wealthy, but not very charming area, we arrived late in the evening at Horninghold, my wife's uncle's home.
7th August, 1654. Went to Uppingham, the shire town of Rutland, pretty and well built of stone, which is a rarity in that part of England, where most of the rural parishes are but of mud; and the people living as wretchedly as in the most impoverished parts of France, which they much resemble, being idle and sluttish. The country (especially Leicestershire) much in common; the gentry free drinkers.
7th August, 1654. Went to Uppingham, the county town of Rutland, which is nice and well-built with stone, something rare for that area of England where most villages are made of mud; and the people live as poorly as in the most destitute parts of France, which they closely resemble, being lazy and unkempt. The countryside (especially Leicestershire) is quite similar; the gentry are heavy drinkers.
9th August, 1654. To the old and ragged city of Leicester, large and pleasantly seated, but despicably built, the chimney flues like so many smiths' forges; however, famous for the tomb of the tyrant, Richard III., which is now converted to a cistern, at which (I think) cattle drink. Also, here in one of the churches lies buried the magnificent Cardinal Wolsey. John of Gaunt has here also built a large but poor hospital, near which a wretch has made him a house out of the ruins of a stately church. Saw the ruins of an old Roman Temple, thought to be of Janus. Entertained at a very fine collection of fruits, such as I did not expect to meet with[Pg 295] so far North, especially very good melons. We returned to my uncle's.
9th August, 1654. To the old and shabby city of Leicester, large and nicely located, but poorly constructed, with chimney flues resembling numerous blacksmiths' forges; however, it's famous for the tomb of the tyrant Richard III., which is now turned into a cistern where (I think) cattle drink. Also, buried in one of the churches is the magnificent Cardinal Wolsey. John of Gaunt also built a large but inadequate hospital here, near which a miserable person has made a house from the ruins of a grand church. I saw the remnants of an old Roman Temple, believed to be dedicated to Janus. I enjoyed a very nice assortment of fruits, which I didn't expect to find this far North, especially some excellent melons. We returned to my uncle's.
14th August, 1654. I took a journey into the Northern parts, riding through Oakham, a pretty town in Rutlandshire, famous for the tenure of the Barons (Ferrers), who hold it by taking off a shoe from every nobleman's horse that passes with his lord through the street, unless redeemed with a certain piece of money. In token of this, are several gilded shoes nailed up on the castle gate, which seems to have been large and fair. Hence, we went by Brook, a very sweet seat and park of the old Lady Camden's. Next, by Burleigh House, belonging to the Duke of Buckingham, and worthily reckoned among the noblest seats in England, situate on the brow of a hill, built à la moderne near a park walled in, and a fine wood at the descent.
14th August, 1654. I took a trip to the northern regions, riding through Oakham, a charming town in Rutlandshire, known for the Barons' unique practice (Ferrers), who claim it by removing a shoe from every nobleman's horse that passes with his lord through the street, unless they pay a specific amount of money to redeem it. To signify this, several gilded shoes are nailed to the castle gate, which appears to have been large and impressive. From there, we went by Brook, a lovely estate and park belonging to the old Lady Camden. Next, we passed by Burleigh House, owned by the Duke of Buckingham, which is justly regarded as one of the finest estates in England, located on a hilltop, built in a modern style near a walled park, with a beautiful wood at the slope.
Now we were come to Cottsmore, a pretty seat belonging to Mr. Heath, son of the late Lord Chief Justice of that name. Here, after dinner, parting with the company that conducted us thus far, I passed that evening by Belvoir Castle, built on a round mount at the point of a long ridge of hills, which affords a stately prospect, and is famous for its strenuous resistance in the late civil war.
Now we had arrived at Cottsmore, a lovely estate owned by Mr. Heath, son of the late Lord Chief Justice of the same name. Here, after dinner, saying goodbye to the group that brought us this far, I spent that evening near Belvoir Castle, which is built on a rounded hill at the end of a long ridge, offering a grand view and is famous for its strong defense during the recent civil war.
Went by Newark-on-Trent, a brave town and garrison. Next, by Wharton House, belonging to the Lord Chaworth, a handsome seat; then by Home, a noble place belonging to the Marquis of Dorchester, and passed the famous river Trent, which divides the South from the North of England; and so lay that night at Nottingham.
Went by Newark-on-Trent, a bold town and military post. Next, passed Wharton House, owned by Lord Chaworth, a beautiful estate; then by Home, an impressive place owned by the Marquis of Dorchester, and crossed the famous River Trent, which separates the South from the North of England; and settled in for the night at Nottingham.
This whole town and county seems to be but one entire rock, as it were, an exceedingly pleasant shire, full of gentry. Here, I observed divers to live in the rocks and caves, much after the manner as about Tours, in France. The church is well built on an eminence; there is a fair house of the Lord Clare's, another of Pierrepont's; an ample market place; large streets, full of crosses; the relics of an ancient castle, hollowed beneath which are many caverns, especially that of the Scots' King, and his work while there.
This entire town and county seems like one solid rock, a really pleasant area filled with well-to-do people. Here, I noticed several people living in the rocks and caves, similar to those around Tours in France. The church is well-constructed on a hillside; there’s a nice house belonging to Lord Clare and another one belonging to Pierrepont; a spacious marketplace; wide streets filled with crosses; and the remnants of an old castle, beneath which there are many caverns, especially the one of the Scots' King, along with his works while he was there.
This place is remarkable for being the place where his Majesty first erected his standard at the beginning[Pg 296] of our late unhappy differences. The prospects from this city toward the river and meadows are most delightful.
This place is impressive because it’s where His Majesty first raised his standard at the start of our recent unfortunate conflicts. The views from this city towards the river and fields are absolutely beautiful.
15th August, 1654. We passed next through Sherwood Forest, accounted the most extensive in England. Then, Paplewick, an incomparable vista with the pretty castle near it. Thence, we saw Newstead Abbey, belonging to the Lord Byron, situated much like Fontainebleau in France, capable of being made a noble seat, accommodated as it is with brave woods and streams; it has yet remaining the front of a glorious abbey church. Next, by Mansfield town; then Welbeck, the house of the Marquis of Newcastle, seated in a bottom in a park, and environed with woods, a noble yet melancholy seat. The palace is a handsome and stately building. Next to Worksop Abbey, almost demolished; the church has a double flat tower entire, and a pretty gate. The manor belongs to the Earl of Arundel, and has to it a fair house at the foot of a hill in a park that affords a delicate prospect. Tickel, a town and castle, has a very noble prospect. All these in Nottinghamshire.
15th August, 1654. We next traveled through Sherwood Forest, known as the largest in England. Then, we reached Paplewick, with its breathtaking view and lovely castle nearby. After that, we saw Newstead Abbey, which belongs to Lord Byron, situated much like Fontainebleau in France, capable of being a magnificent residence, surrounded by beautiful woods and streams; it still has the façade of a grand abbey church. Next, we passed through Mansfield town; then Welbeck, the home of the Marquis of Newcastle, located in a valley within a park, surrounded by woods, a grand yet somber estate. The palace is an elegant and impressive structure. Then we visited Worksop Abbey, which is almost in ruins; the church retains a pair of flat towers and a charming gate. The manor belongs to the Earl of Arundel and features a lovely house at the base of a hill in a park that offers a gorgeous view. Tickel, a town and castle, boasts a very noble view. All of these are in Nottinghamshire.
16th August, 1654. We arrived at Doncaster, where we lay this night; it is a large fair town, famous for great wax lights, and good stockings.
16th August, 1654. We arrived at Doncaster, where we stayed the night; it’s a big, popular town known for its large wax candles and quality stockings.
17th August, 1654. Passed through Pontefract; the castle famous for many sieges both of late and ancient times, and the death of that unhappy King murdered in it (Richard II.), was now demolishing by the Rebels; it stands on a mount, and makes a goodly show at a distance. The Queen has a house here, and there are many fair seats near it, especially Mr. Pierrepont's, built at the foot of a hill out of the castle ruins. We all alighted in the highway to drink at a crystal spring, which they call Robin Hood's Well; near it, is a stone chair, and an iron ladle to drink out of, chained to the seat. We rode to Tadcaster, at the side of which we have prospect of the Archbishop's Palace (which is a noble seat), and in sight of divers other gentlemen's fair houses. This tract is a goodly, fertile, well-watered, and wooded country, abounding with pasture and plenty of provisions.
17th August, 1654. We passed through Pontefract; the castle, known for many sieges both recent and long ago, and for the tragic death of the unfortunate King murdered there (Richard II.), was being demolished by the Rebels. It sits on a hill and looks impressive from a distance. The Queen has a residence here, and there are many beautiful estates nearby, especially Mr. Pierrepont's, which was built at the base of a hill using stone from the castle ruins. We all stopped on the roadside to drink from a crystal spring known as Robin Hood's Well; nearby, there's a stone chair and an iron ladle chained to it for drinking. We rode on to Tadcaster, where we could see the Archbishop's Palace (a grand residence) alongside several other fine houses belonging to gentlemen. This area is a lovely, fertile, well-watered, and wooded region, rich in pasture and abundant food supplies.
To York, the second city of England, fairly walled, of a circular form, watered by the brave river Ouse, bearing vessels of considerable burden on it; over it is a[Pg 297] stone bridge emulating that of London, and built on; the middle arch is larger than any I have seen in England, with a wharf of hewn stone, which makes the river appear very neat. But most remarkable and worth seeing is St. Peter's Cathedral, which of all the great churches in England had been best preserved from the fury of the sacrilegious, by composition with the Rebels when they took the city, during the many incursions of Scotch and others. It is a most entire magnificent piece of Gothic architecture. The screen before the choir is of stone carved with flowers, running work and statues of the old kings. Many of the monuments are very ancient. Here, as a great rarity in these days and at this time, they showed me a Bible and Common Prayer Book covered with crimson velvet, and richly embossed with silver gilt; also a service for the altar of gilt wrought plate, flagons, basin, ewer, plates, chalices, patins, etc., with a gorgeous covering for the altar and pulpit, carefully preserved in the vestry, in the hollow wall whereof rises a plentiful spring of excellent water. I got up to the tower, whence we had a prospect toward Durham, and could see Ripon, part of Lancashire, the famous and fatal Marston Moor, the Spas of Knaresborough, and all the environs of that admirable country. Sir —— Ingoldsby has here a large house, gardens, and tennis court; also the King's house and church near the castle, which was modernly fortified with a palisade and bastions. The streets are narrow and ill-paved, the shops like London.
To York, the second city of England, well-fortified and circular in shape, lined by the strong river Ouse that carries sizable boats. There's a stone bridge over it similar to London's, and the central arch is the biggest I've seen in England, complete with a crafted stone wharf that makes the river look very tidy. But the most impressive sight to see is St. Peter's Cathedral, which has managed to remain remarkably intact amidst the fury of the sacrilegious, thanks to negotiations with the Rebels when they seized the city during several invasions by the Scots and others. It is a stunning example of Gothic architecture. The screen in front of the choir is made of stone carved with floral designs, intricate patterns, and statues of past kings. Many of the monuments are quite old. Here, as a rare find these days, they showed me a Bible and a Book of Common Prayer covered in crimson velvet, richly embossed with silver gilt; also, an altar service made of gilt wrought plate, including flagons, a basin, a ewer, plates, chalices, patins, and so on, along with a beautiful altar and pulpit covering, all carefully kept in the vestry, where a plentiful spring of excellent water rises from the hollow wall. I climbed up to the tower, from where we had a view toward Durham, and could see Ripon, parts of Lancashire, the infamous Marston Moor, the Spas of Knaresborough, and all the surrounding picturesque countryside. Sir —— Ingoldsby has a large house here, with gardens and a tennis court; the King also has a house and church near the castle, which has recently been protected with a palisade and bastions. The streets are narrow and poorly paved, with shops similar to those in London.
18th August, 1654. We went to Beverley, a large town with two stately churches, St. John's and St. Mary's, not much inferior to the best of our cathedrals. Here a very old woman showed us the monuments, and, being above 100 years of age, spoke the language of Queen Mary's days, in whose time she was born; she was widow of a sexton who had belonged to the church a hundred years.
18th August, 1654. We went to Beverley, a large town with two impressive churches, St. John's and St. Mary's, that are not much less grand than our finest cathedrals. An elderly woman, over 100 years old, showed us the monuments and spoke in the language of Queen Mary's time, as she was born then. She was the widow of a sexton who had served the church for a hundred years.
Hence, we passed through a fenny but rich country to Hull, situated like Calais, modernly and strongly fortified with three block-houses of brick and earth. It has a good market place and harbor for ships. Famous also (or rather infamous) is this town for Hotham's refusing entrance to his Majesty. The water-house is worth seeing. And here ends the south of Yorkshire.[Pg 298]
So, we traveled through a marshy but fertile area to Hull, which is well-fortified like Calais, with three sturdy blockhouses made of brick and earth. It has a good marketplace and a harbor for ships. This town is also known (or rather notorious) for Hotham's refusal to let the king in. The water-house is worth a visit. And here ends the southern part of Yorkshire.[Pg 298]
19th August, 1654. We pass the Humber, an arm of the sea of about two leagues breadth. The weather was bad, but we crossed it in a good barge to Barton, the first town in that part of Lincolnshire. All marsh ground till we came to Brigg, famous for the plantations of licorice, and then had brave pleasant riding to LINCOLNLincoln, much resembling Salisbury Plain. Lincoln is an old confused town, very long, uneven, steep, and ragged; formerly full of good houses, especially churches and abbeys. The Minster almost comparable to that of York itself, abounding with marble pillars, and having a fair front (herein was interred Queen Eleanora, the loyal and loving wife who sucked the poison out of her husband's wound); the abbot founder, with rare carving in the stone; the great bell, or Tom, as they call it. I went up the steeple, from whence is a goodly prospect all over the country. The soldiers had lately knocked off most of the brasses from the gravestones, so as few inscriptions were left; they told us that these men went in with axes and hammers, and shut themselves in, till they had rent and torn off some barge loads of metal, not sparing even the monuments of the dead; so hellish an avarice possessed them: beside which, they exceedingly ruined the city.
19th August, 1654. We crossed the Humber, a part of the sea about two leagues wide. The weather was bad, but we made it over in a good boat to Barton, the first town in that area of Lincolnshire. It was all marshland until we reached Brigg, known for its licorice plantations, and then we had a nice ride to LINCOLN Lincoln, which looked a lot like Salisbury Plain. Lincoln is an old, messy town, very long, uneven, steep, and rough; it used to be full of nice houses, especially churches and abbeys. The Minster is almost as impressive as York Minster itself, filled with marble pillars and having a beautiful facade (this is where Queen Eleanora, the loyal and loving wife who sucked the poison out of her husband's wound, was buried); the founder abbot features rare stone carvings; and then there’s the great bell, or Tom, as they call it. I climbed up the steeple, which offers a lovely view all over the countryside. The soldiers had recently taken most of the brass from the gravestones, leaving very few inscriptions; we were told that these men came in with axes and hammers and locked themselves in until they had ripped off loads of metal, not even sparing the monuments of the dead; such was their hellish greed. On top of that, they severely damaged the city.
Here, I saw a tall woman six feet two inches high, comely, middle-aged, and well-proportioned, who kept a very neat and clean alehouse, and got most by people's coming to see her on account of her height.
Here, I saw a tall woman six feet two inches tall, attractive, middle-aged, and well-built, who ran a very tidy and clean pub, and mostly benefited from people coming to see her because of her height.
20th August, 1654. From hence we had a most pleasant ride over a large heath open like Salisbury Plain, to Grantham, a pretty town, so well situated on the side of a bottom which is large and at a distance environed with ascending grounds, that for pleasure I consider it comparable to most inland places of England; famous is the steeple for the exceeding height of the shaft, which is of stone.
20th August, 1654. From here, we had a lovely ride over a large, open heath similar to Salisbury Plain, heading to Grantham, a charming town. It's nicely placed on the side of a large valley, surrounded at a distance by rising hills. For enjoyment, I think it compares favorably to many inland places in England; the steeple is famous for the remarkable height of its stone shaft.
About eighteen miles south, we pass by a noble seat, and see Boston at a distance. Here, we came to a parish of which the parson had tithe ale.
About eighteen miles south, we pass by an impressive estate and see Boston off in the distance. Here, we arrived at a parish where the pastor was allowed to have tithe ale.
Thence through Rutland, we brought night to Horninghold, from whence I set out on this excursion.
From there, we traveled through Rutland and brought night to Horninghold, where I started this journey.
22d August, 1654. I went a setting and hawking, where we had tolerable sport.[Pg 299]
22nd August, 1654. I went out to set and go hawking, where we had a decent time. [Pg 299]
25th August, 1654. To see Kirby, a very noble house of my Lord Hatton's, in Northamptonshire, built à la moderne; the garden and stables agreeable, but the avenue ungraceful, and the seat naked: returned that evening.
25th August, 1654. Visited Kirby, a very impressive house owned by Lord Hatton in Northamptonshire, built in a modern style; the garden and stables were nice, but the avenue was awkward, and the seating area felt bare: returned that evening.
27th August, 1654. Mr. Allington preached an excellent discourse from Romans vi. 19. This was he who published those bold sermons of the members warring against the mind, or the Jews crucifying Christ, applied to the wicked regicides; for which he was ruined. We had no sermon in the afternoon.
27th August, 1654. Mr. Allington delivered an outstanding sermon based on Romans vi. 19. He was the one who released those daring sermons about the members battling against the mind, or the Jews crucifying Christ, relating it to the evil regicides; for this, he faced destruction. We had no sermon in the afternoon.
30th August, 1654. Taking leave of my friends, who had now feasted me more than a month, I, with my wife, etc., set our faces toward home, and got this evening to Peterborough, passing by a stately palace (Thorpe) of St. John's (one deep in the blood of our good king), built out of the ruins of the Bishop's palace and cloister. The church is exceeding fair, full of monuments of great antiquity. Here lies Queen Catherine, the unhappy wife of Henry VIII., and the no less unfortunate Mary, Queen of Scots. On the steeple, we viewed the fens of Lincolnshire, now much inclosed and drained with infinite expense, and by many sluices, cuts, mounds, and ingenious mills, and the like inventions; at which the city and country about it consisting of a poor and very lazy sort of people, were much displeased.
30th August, 1654. After saying goodbye to my friends, who had hosted me for over a month, my wife and I began our journey home and arrived in Peterborough this evening. We passed by the impressive palace (Thorpe) of St. John's, built from the ruins of the Bishop's palace and cloister, which is tied to our good king's legacy. The church is exceedingly beautiful, filled with ancient monuments. Here lies Queen Catherine, the unfortunate wife of Henry VIII, and the equally unfortunate Mary, Queen of Scots. From the steeple, we looked out over the Lincolnshire fens, which are now heavily enclosed and drained at great expense, with numerous sluices, cuts, mounds, and clever mills, among other inventions; the poor and very lazy locals in the city and surrounding areas were not pleased with this.
Peterborough is a handsome town, and hath another well-built church.
Peterborough is a beautiful town, and it has another well-constructed church.
31st August, 1654. Through part of Huntingdonshire, we passed that town, fair and ancient, a river running by it. The country about it so abounds in wheat that, when any King of England passes through it, they have a custom to meet him with a hundred plows.
31st August, 1654. As we traveled through part of Huntingdonshire, we went by that fair and ancient town, with a river flowing beside it. The surrounding area is so rich in wheat that, whenever a King of England passes through, they have a tradition of greeting him with a hundred plows.
This evening, to Cambridge; and went first to St. John's College, well built of brick, and library, which I think is the fairest of that University. One Mr. Benlowes has given it all the ornaments of pietra commessa,51 whereof a table and one piece of perspective is very fine; other trifles there also be of no great value, besides a vast old song-book, or Service, and some fair manuscripts. There hangs in the library the picture of John[Pg 300] Williams, Archbishop of York, sometime Lord Keeper, my kinsman, and their great benefactor.
This evening, I went to Cambridge and first visited St. John's College, which is well-built with brick, and its library, which I think is the most beautiful in the university. A man named Mr. Benlowes has adorned it with all sorts of pietra commessa,51 including a very fine table and a piece of perspective. There are also a few other trinkets of little value, aside from a large old songbook or service and some nice manuscripts. In the library hangs a portrait of John[Pg 300] Williams, the Archbishop of York, former Lord Keeper, my relative, and their major benefactor.
Trinity College is said by some to be the fairest quadrangle of any university in Europe; but in truth is far inferior to that of Christ Church, in Oxford; the hall is ample and of stone, the fountain in the quadrangle is graceful, the chapel and library fair. There they showed us the prophetic manuscript of the famous Grebner, but the passage and emblem which they would apply to our late King, is manifestly relating to the Swedish; in truth, it seems to be a mere fantastic rhapsody, however the title may bespeak strange revelations. There is an office in manuscript with fine miniatures, and some other antiquities, given by the Countess of Richmond, mother of Henry VIII., and the before-mentioned Archbishop Williams, when Bishop of Lincoln. The library is pretty well stored. The Greek Professor had me into another large quadrangle cloistered and well built, and gave us a handsome collation in his own chamber.
Trinity College is considered by some to be the most beautiful quad in any university in Europe; however, it's actually far less impressive than Christ Church in Oxford. The hall is spacious and made of stone, the fountain in the quad is elegant, and the chapel and library are decent. They showed us the prophetic manuscript of the famous Grebner, but the passage and symbol they connected to our late King clearly refer to the Swedish one; honestly, it seems like a mere whimsical fantasy, despite the title suggesting some strange revelations. There's a manuscript with fine miniatures and some other antiques, given by the Countess of Richmond, mother of Henry VIII, and the previously mentioned Archbishop Williams when he was Bishop of Lincoln. The library is fairly well-stocked. The Greek Professor took me to another large, cloistered quad that was well-constructed, and he treated us to a nice meal in his own room.
Thence to Caius, and afterward to King's College, where I found the chapel altogether answered expectation, especially the roof, all of stone, which for the flatness of its laying and carving may, I conceive, vie with any in Christendom. The contignation of the roof (which I went upon), weight, and artificial joining of the stones is admirable. The lights are also very fair. In one aisle lies the famous Dr. Collins, so celebrated for his fluency in the Latin tongue. From this roof we could descry Ely, and the encampment of Sturbridge fair now beginning to set up their tents and booths; also Royston, Newmarket, etc., houses belonging to the King. The library is too narrow.
Then I went to Caius and later to King's College, where I found the chapel completely met my expectations, especially the roof, which is all stone. Its flatness and intricate carving can compete with any in Christendom. The structure of the roof (which I walked on), the weight, and the way the stones are joined together is impressive. The windows are also quite beautiful. In one aisle lies the famous Dr. Collins, well-known for his fluency in Latin. From this roof, we could see Ely and the Sturbridge fair, which was just starting to set up its tents and booths; also Royston, Newmarket, and other properties belonging to the King. The library is too small.
Clare-Hall is of a new and noble design, but not finished.
Clare-Hall has a new and impressive design, but it's not complete.
Peter-House, formerly under the government of my worthy friend, Dr. Joseph Cosin, Dean of Peterborough; a pretty neat college, having a delicate chapel. Next to Sidney, a fine college.
Peter-House, previously overseen by my good friend, Dr. Joseph Cosin, Dean of Peterborough; a rather tidy college with a lovely chapel. Next to Sidney, which is a great college.
Catherine-Hall, though a mean structure, is yet famous for the learned Bishop Andrews, once Master. Emanuel College, that zealous house, where to the hall they have a parlor for the Fellows. The chapel is reformed, ab origine, built north and south, and meanly erected, as is the library.[Pg 301]
Catherine Hall, although a modest building, is still well-known for the scholarly Bishop Andrews, who was once the Master. Emanuel College, a passionate institution, has a common room for the Fellows off the hall. The chapel has been renovated from its original design, constructed in a north-south orientation, and is simply built, just like the library.[Pg 301]
Jesus-College, one of the best built, but in a melancholy situation. Next to Christ-College, a very noble erection, especially the modern part, built without the quadrangle toward the gardens, of exact architecture.
Jesus College, one of the best constructed, but in a rather sad location. Next to Christ College, a very impressive building, especially the modern section, which was built without the courtyard facing the gardens, featuring precise architecture.
The Schools are very despicable, and Public Library but mean, though somewhat improved by the wainscoting and books lately added by the Bishop Bancroft's library and MSS. They showed us little of antiquity, only King James's Works, being his own gift, and kept very reverently.
The schools are quite terrible, and the public library is lacking, although it has been somewhat improved by the paneling and the books recently added from Bishop Bancroft's library and manuscripts. They showed us little from the past, just King James's works, which are a personal gift and kept with great respect.
The market place is very ample, and remarkable for old Hobson, the pleasant carrier's beneficence of a fountain.52 But the whole town is situate in a low, dirty, unpleasant place, the streets ill-paved, the air thick and infected by the fens, nor are its churches, (of which St. Mary's is the best) anything considerable in compare to Oxford.53
The marketplace is quite spacious and notable for old Hobson, the friendly carrier's gift of a fountain.52 But the entire town is located in a low, dirty, unpleasant area, with poorly paved streets and air that is thick and polluted by the fens. Its churches, with St. Mary's being the most significant, are not even close to comparing to those in Oxford.53
From Cambridge, we went to Audley-End, and spent some time in seeing that goodly place built by Howard, Earl of Suffolk, once Lord Treasurer. It is a mixed fabric, between antique and modern, but observable for its being completely finished, and without comparison is one of the stateliest palaces in the kingdom. It consists of two courts, the first very large, winged with cloisters. The front had a double entrance; the hall is fair, but somewhat too small for so august a pile. The kitchen is very large, as are the cellars, arched with stone, very neat and well disposed; these offices are joined by a wing out of the way very handsomely. The gallery is the most cheerful and I think one of the best in England; a fair dining-room, and the rest of the lodgings answerable, with a pretty chapel. The gardens are not in order, though well inclosed. It has also a bowling-alley, a noble well-walled, wooded and watered park, full of fine collines and ponds: the river glides before the palace, to which is an avenue of lime trees, but all this is much diminished by its being placed in an obscure bottom. For the rest, is a perfectly uniform structure, and shows without like a diadem, by the decorations of the cupolas and other ornaments on the pavilions; instead of rails and balusters, there is a border of capital letters, as was[Pg 302] lately also on Suffolk-House, near Charing-Cross, built by the same Lord Treasurer.
From Cambridge, we went to Audley End and spent some time exploring that impressive place built by Howard, Earl of Suffolk, who was once the Lord Treasurer. It’s a blend of old and new architecture, but it stands out for being completely finished and is undoubtedly one of the grandest palaces in the country. It has two courtyards, with the first being very large and flanked by cloisters. The front has a double entrance; the hall is nice but a bit too small for such a grand building. The kitchen is very spacious, as are the cellars, which are vaulted with stone, very neat and well organized; these service areas are connected by a beautifully designed wing that is out of the way. The gallery is the brightest and I think one of the best in England; it has a lovely dining room, and the rest of the rooms are equally impressive, along with a charming chapel. The gardens are a bit unkempt, though well enclosed. There’s also a bowling alley, a grand well-fenced park filled with beautiful hills and ponds: the river flows in front of the palace, which is approached by a lime tree-lined avenue, but all of this is somewhat diminished by its location in a secluded hollow. Overall, it’s a perfectly uniform structure that looks like a crown from the outside, adorned with cupolas and other decorations on the pavilions; instead of railings and balusters, there’s a border of capital letters, similar to what was recently seen at Suffolk House near Charing Cross, built by the same Lord Treasurer.
This house stands in the parish of Saffron Walden, famous for the abundance of saffron there cultivated, and esteemed the best of any foreign country.
This house is located in the parish of Saffron Walden, known for its rich saffron production, which is considered the best compared to any other country.
3d October, 1654. Having dined here, we passed through Bishop Stortford, a pretty watered town, and so by London, late home to Sayes Court, after a journey of 700 miles, but for the variety an agreeable refreshment after my turmoil and building.
3rd October, 1654. After having lunch here, we went through Bishop Stortford, a lovely town with good water, and then headed towards London, arriving late at Sayes Court after a journey of 700 miles, but the variety made it a pleasant break after my hectic work and building.
10th October, 1654. To my brother at Wotton, who had been sick.
10th October, 1654. To my brother at Wotton, who had been unwell.
14th October, 1654. I went to visit my noble friend Mr. Hyldiard, where I met that learned gentleman, my Lord Aungier, and Dr. Stokes, one of his Majesty's chaplains.
14th October, 1654. I went to visit my esteemed friend Mr. Hyldiard, where I met that knowledgeable gentleman, my Lord Aungier, and Dr. Stokes, one of the King’s chaplains.
15th October, 1654. To Betchworth Castle, to Sir Ambrose Browne, and other gentlemen of my sweet and native country.
15th October, 1654. To Betchworth Castle, to Sir Ambrose Browne, and other gentlemen from my lovely and hometown.
24th October, 1654. The good old parson, Higham, preached at Wotton Church: a plain preacher, but innocent and honest man.
24th October, 1654. The good old pastor, Higham, preached at Wotton Church: a straightforward preacher, but an innocent and honest man.
23d November, 1654. I went to London, to visit my cousin Fanshawe, and this day I saw one of the rarest collections of agates, onyxes, and intaglios, that I had ever seen either at home or abroad, collected by a conceited old hatmaker in Blackfriars, especially one agate vase, heretofore the great Earl of Leicester's.
23rd November, 1654. I went to London to visit my cousin Fanshawe, and today I saw one of the rarest collections of agates, onyxes, and intaglios that I have ever seen, either at home or abroad. It was collected by a pompous old hatmaker in Blackfriars, especially one agate vase that used to belong to the great Earl of Leicester.
28th November, 1654. Came Lady Langham, a kinswoman of mine, to visit us; also one Captain Cooke, esteemed the best singer, after the Italian manner, of any in England; he entertained us with his voice and theorbo.
28th November, 1654. Lady Langham, a relative of mine, came to visit us; also Captain Cooke, considered the best singer in England, in the Italian style; he entertained us with his voice and theorbo.
30th November, 1654. My birthday, being the 34th year of my age: blessing God for his providence, I went to London to visit my brother.
30th November, 1654. It was my birthday, marking my 34th year. Grateful to God for his guidance, I went to London to visit my brother.
3d December, 1654. Advent Sunday. There being no Office at the church but extemporary prayers after the Presbyterian way, for now all forms were prohibited, and most of the preachers were usurpers, I seldom went to church upon solemn feasts; but, either went to London, where some of the orthodox sequestered divines did privately use the Common Prayer, administer sacraments,[Pg 303] etc., or else I procured one to officiate in my house; wherefore, on the 10th, Dr. Richard Owen, the sequestered minister of Eltham, preached to my family in my library, and gave us the Holy Communion.
3d December, 1654. Advent Sunday. Since there was no formal service at the church other than spontaneous prayers in the Presbyterian style, as all structured services were banned and most preachers were unauthorized, I rarely attended church on important holidays. Instead, I either went to London, where some orthodox exiled ministers privately conducted the Common Prayer and administered sacraments,[Pg 303] etc., or I arranged for someone to lead a service at my home. Therefore, on the 10th, Dr. Richard Owen, the exiled minister from Eltham, preached to my family in my library and offered us Holy Communion.
25th December, 1654. Christmas day. No public offices in churches, but penalties on observers, so as I was constrained to celebrate it at home.
25th December, 1654. Christmas Day. No public services in churches, but consequences for those who observe, so I had to celebrate it at home.
1st January, 1654-55. Having with my family performed the public offices of the day, and begged a blessing on the year I was now entering, I went to keep the rest of Christmas at my brother's, R. Evelyn, at Woodcot.
1st January, 1654-55. After my family and I completed the public duties of the day and asked for blessings on the new year, I went to spend the remaining days of Christmas at my brother R. Evelyn's place in Woodcot.
19th January, 1655. My wife was brought to bed of another son, being my third, but second living. Christened on the 26th by the name of John.
19th January, 1655. My wife gave birth to another son, our third child but the second who is living. He was baptized on the 26th and named John.
28th January, 1655. A stranger preached from Colossians iii. 2, inciting our affections to the obtaining heavenly things. I understood afterward that this man had been both chaplain and lieutenant to Admiral Penn, using both swords; whether ordained or not I cannot say; into such times were we fallen!
28th January, 1655. A stranger preached from Colossians iii. 2, encouraging our hearts to seek heavenly things. I learned later that this man had served as both chaplain and lieutenant to Admiral Penn, wielding both a sword and the Word; whether he was ordained or not, I can't say; what strange times we were living in!
24th February, 1655. I was showed a table clock whose balance was only a crystal ball, sliding on parallel wires, without being at all fixed, but rolling from stage to stage till falling on a spring concealed from sight, it was thrown up to the utmost channel again, made with an imperceptible declivity, in this continual vicissitude of motion prettily entertaining the eye every half minute, and the next half giving progress to the hand that showed the hour, and giving notice by a small bell, so as in 120 half minutes, or periods of the bullet's falling on the ejaculatory spring, the clock part struck. This very extraordinary piece (richly adorned) had been presented by some German prince to our late king, and was now in the possession of the usurper; valued at £200.
24th February, 1655. I was shown a table clock that used a crystal ball as its balance, gliding on parallel wires, completely loose, rolling from stage to stage until it fell onto a hidden spring. It was then propelled back up through a subtle incline, continuously entertaining the eye every thirty seconds, while the hand that showed the hour progressed, giving a chime with a small bell. After 120 intervals, or moments of the ball falling onto the spring, the clock struck. This remarkable piece, richly decorated, had been gifted by a German prince to our late king and was now in the possession of the usurper, valued at £200.
2d March, 1655. Mr. Simpson, the King's jeweler, showed me a most rich agate cup, of an escalop-shape, and having a figure of Cleopatra at the scroll, her body, hair, mantle, and veil, of the several natural colors. It was supported by a half Mark Antony, the colors rarely natural, and the work truly antique, but I conceived they were of several pieces; had they been all of one stone, it were invaluable.
2nd March, 1655. Mr. Simpson, the King's jeweler, showed me a beautifully crafted agate cup shaped like a scallop, featuring a figure of Cleopatra on the scroll, with her body, hair, mantle, and veil in various natural colors. It was held up by a half Mark Antony, the colors unusually realistic, and the craftsmanship genuinely antique; however, I suspected they were made from different pieces. If it had all been carved from a single stone, it would have been priceless.
18th March, 1655. Went to London, on purpose to[Pg 304] hear that excellent preacher, Dr. Jeremy Taylor, on Matt. xiv. 17, showing what were the conditions of obtaining eternal life; also, concerning abatements for unavoidable infirmities, how cast on the accounts of the cross. On the 31st, I made a visit to Dr. Jeremy Taylor, to confer with him about some spiritual matters, using him thenceforward as my ghostly father. I beseech God Almighty to make me ever mindful of, and thankful for, his heavenly assistances!
March 18, 1655. I went to London specifically to hear that amazing preacher, Dr. Jeremy Taylor, speak on Matthew 14:17, discussing the conditions for obtaining eternal life and how to handle unavoidable weaknesses in light of the cross. On the 31st, I visited Dr. Jeremy Taylor to discuss some spiritual matters, and from that point on, I considered him my spiritual mentor. I ask God Almighty to keep me always aware of and thankful for his heavenly guidance!
2d April, 1655. This was the first week, that, my uncle Pretyman being parted with his family from me, I began housekeeping, till now sojourning with him in my own house.
2nd April, 1655. This was the first week that my uncle Pretyman, having separated from his family, left me to start housekeeping on my own, after staying with him in my own house until now.
9th April, 1655. I went to see the great ship newly built by the usurper, Oliver, carrying ninety-six brass guns, and 1,000 tons burden. In the prow was Oliver on horseback, trampling six nations under foot, a Scot, Irishman, Dutchman, Frenchman, Spaniard, and English, as was easily made out by their several habits. A Fame held a laurel over his insulting head; the word, God with us.
9th April, 1655. I went to see the big ship recently built by the usurper, Oliver, armed with ninety-six brass guns and weighing 1,000 tons. At the front was Oliver on horseback, trampling six nations underfoot: a Scot, an Irishman, a Dutchman, a Frenchman, a Spaniard, and an Englishman, which was clear from their different clothing. A Fame held a laurel over his arrogant head; the words, God is with us.
15th April, 1655. I went to London with my family, to celebrate the feast of Easter. Dr. Wild preached at St. Gregory's; the ruling Powers conniving at the use of the Liturgy, etc., in the church alone. In the afternoon, Mr. Pierson (since Bishop of Chester) preached at Eastcheap, but was disturbed by an alarm of fire, which about this time was very frequent in the city.
15th April, 1655. I went to London with my family to celebrate Easter. Dr. Wild preached at St. Gregory's; the authorities were turning a blind eye to the use of the Liturgy, etc., in the church alone. In the afternoon, Mr. Pierson (who later became Bishop of Chester) preached at Eastcheap, but he was interrupted by a fire alarm, which was quite common in the city at that time.
29th May, 1655. I sold Preston to Colonel Morley.
29th May, 1655. I sold Preston to Colonel Morley.
17th June, 1655. There was a collection for the persecuted churches and Christians in Savoy, remnants of the ancient Albigenses.
17th June, 1655. There was a fundraiser for the persecuted churches and Christians in Savoy, the remaining followers of the ancient Albigenses.
3d July, 1655. I was shown a pretty Terella, described with all the circles, and showing all the magnetic deviations.
3rd July, 1655. I was shown a nice little globe, complete with all the circles and illustrating all the magnetic deviations.
14th July, 1655. Came Mr. Pratt, my old acquaintance at Rome, also Sir Edward Hales, Sir Joseph Tufton, with Mr. Seymour.
14th July, 1655. Mr. Pratt, my old friend from Rome, also came, along with Sir Edward Hales, Sir Joseph Tufton, and Mr. Seymour.
1st August, 1655. I went to Dorking, to see Mr. Charles Howard's amphitheater, garden, or solitary recess, being fifteen acres environed by a hill. He showed us divers rare plants, caves, and an elaboratory.
1st August, 1655. I went to Dorking to visit Mr. Charles Howard's amphitheater, garden, or private retreat, which is fifteen acres surrounded by a hill. He showed us several rare plants, caves, and a laboratory.
10th August, 1655. To Albury, to visit Mr. Howard, who had begun to build, and alter the gardens much. He showed me many rare pictures, particularly the Moor[Pg 305] on horseback; Erasmus, as big as the life, by Holbein; a Madonna, in miniature, by Oliver; but, above all, the skull, carved in wood, by Albert Durer, for which his father was offered £100; also Albert's head, by himself, with divers rare agates, intaglios, and other curiosities.
10th August, 1655. I went to Albury to visit Mr. Howard, who had started building and making a lot of changes to the gardens. He showed me many rare paintings, especially the Moor on horseback; a life-sized Erasmus by Holbein; a miniature Madonna by Oliver; but most impressive was the wooden skull carved by Albrecht Dürer, for which his father was offered £100. He also had a self-portrait by Dürer, along with various rare agates, intaglios, and other curiosities.
21st August, 1655. I went to Ryegate, to visit Mrs. Cary, at my Lady Peterborough's, in an ancient monastery well in repair, but the park much defaced; the house is nobly furnished. The chimney-piece in the great chamber, carved in wood, was of Henry VIII., and was taken from a house of his in Bletchingley. At Ryegate, was now the Archbishop of Armagh, the learned James Usher, whom I went to visit. He received me exceeding kindly. In discourse with him, he told me how great the loss of time was to study much the Eastern languages; that, excepting Hebrew, there was little fruit to be gathered of exceeding labor; that, besides some mathematical books, the Arabic itself had little considerable; that the best text was the Hebrew Bible; that the Septuagint was finished in seventy days, but full of errors, about which he was then writing; that St. Hierome's was to be valued next the Hebrew; also that the seventy translated the Pentateuch only, the rest was finished by others; that the Italians at present understood but little Greek, and Kircher was a mountebank; that Mr. Selden's best book was his "Titles of Honor"; that the church would be destroyed by sectaries, who would in all likelihood bring in Popery. In conclusion he recommended to me the study of philology, above all human studies; and so, with his blessing, I took my leave of this excellent person, and returned to Wotton.
21st August, 1655. I went to Ryegate to visit Mrs. Cary at Lady Peterborough's in an old monastery, which is well maintained, though the park is quite damaged; the house is beautifully furnished. The fireplace in the great room, carved from wood, belonged to Henry VIII. and was taken from one of his homes in Bletchingley. At Ryegate, the Archbishop of Armagh, the learned James Usher, was present, and I went to see him. He welcomed me very warmly. In our conversation, he explained how much time is wasted studying Eastern languages; that, aside from Hebrew, there is little valuable knowledge to be gained from extensive effort; that besides a few mathematical texts, Arabic is not particularly significant; that the best text is the Hebrew Bible; that the Septuagint was completed in seventy days but is full of errors, which he was currently addressing; that St. Jerome's work is second only to the Hebrew; also that the seventy translated only the Pentateuch while others completed the rest; that Italians today understand very little Greek, and Kircher is a charlatan; that Mr. Selden's best book is his "Titles of Honor"; and that the church is likely to be undermined by sectarians who will probably reintroduce Popery. In closing, he urged me to pursue the study of philology above all other human studies; and so, with his blessing, I took my leave of this remarkable person and returned to Wotton.
27th August, 1655. I went to Boxhill, to see those rare natural bowers, cabinets, and shady walks in the box copses: hence we walked to Mickleham, and saw Sir F. Stidolph's seat, environed with elm trees and walnuts innumerable, and of which last he told us they received a considerable revenue. Here are such goodly walks and hills shaded with yew and box, as render the place extremely agreeable, it seeming from these evergreens to be summer all the winter.
27th August, 1655. I went to Boxhill to check out those amazing natural arbors, cozy spots, and shady paths in the boxwoods. From there, we walked to Mickleham and saw Sir F. Stidolph's estate, surrounded by countless elm and walnut trees, the latter of which he said brought in a good income. There are such lovely paths and hills shaded by yews and boxwoods that make the place really pleasing; it feels like summer all winter thanks to these evergreens.
28th August, 1655. Came that renowned mathematician, Mr. Oughtred, to see me, I sending my coach to bring him to Wotton, being now very aged. Among other discourse,[Pg 306] he told me he thought water to be the philosopher's first matter, and that he was well persuaded of the possibility of their elixir; he believed the sun to be a material fire, the moon a continent, as appears by the late selenographers; he had strong apprehensions of some extraordinary event to happen the following year, from the calculation of coincidence with the diluvian period; and added that it might possibly be to convert the Jews by our Savior's visible appearance, or to judge the world; and therefore, his word was, "Parate in occursum"; he said original sin was not met with in the Greek Fathers, yet he believed the thing; this was from some discourse on Dr. Taylor's late book, which I had lent him.
28th August, 1655. The famous mathematician, Mr. Oughtred, came to visit me. I sent my coach to pick him up and bring him to Wotton, as he is now quite old. During our conversation,[Pg 306] he mentioned that he believed water to be the philosopher's first matter and that he was convinced of the possibility of the philosopher's stone; he thought the sun was a source of material fire and the moon a landmass, as recent lunar studies have suggested. He had a strong feeling that something extraordinary would happen the following year, based on calculations coinciding with the flood period. He also suggested that it might be the time for our Savior to visibly appear and convert the Jews or to judge the world; therefore, his words were, "Parate in occursum"; he stated that original sin was not found in the Greek Fathers, yet he believed in the concept; this came up during our discussion about Dr. Taylor's recent book, which I had lent him.
16th September, 1655. Preached at St. Gregory's one Darnel, on Psalm iv. 4, concerning the benefit of self-examination; more learning in SO SHORT A TIME AS AN HOUR I have seldom heard.
16th September, 1655. I preached at St. Gregory's one Darnel, on Psalm iv. 4, about the value of self-examination; I have rarely heard so much insight in AS LITTLE AS AN HOUR.
17th September, 1655. Received £2,600 of Mr. Hurt, for the Manor of Warley Magna, in Essex, purchased by me some time since. The taxes were so intolerable that they ate up the rents, etc., surcharged as that county had been above all others during our unnatural war.
17th September, 1655. Received £2,600 from Mr. Hurt for the Manor of Warley Magna in Essex, which I bought some time ago. The taxes were so outrageous that they consumed the rents because that county had been more burdened than any other during our unnatural war.
19th September, 1655. Came to see me Sir Edward Hales, Mr. Ashmole, Mr. Harlakenton, and Mr. Thornhill: and, the next day, I visited Sir Henry Newton at Charlton, where I met the Earl of Winchelsea and Lady Beauchamp, daughter to the Lord Capel.
19th September, 1655. Sir Edward Hales, Mr. Ashmole, Mr. Harlakenton, and Mr. Thornhill came to see me; the next day, I visited Sir Henry Newton at Charlton, where I met the Earl of Winchelsea and Lady Beauchamp, daughter of Lord Capel.
On Sunday afternoon, I frequently staid at home to catechize and instruct my family, those exercises universally ceasing in the parish churches, so as people had no principles, and grew very ignorant of even the common points of Christianity; all devotion being now placed in hearing sermons and discourses of speculative and national things.
On Sunday afternoon, I often stayed home to teach and guide my family, as those activities had largely stopped at the local churches. As a result, people lacked foundational beliefs and became uninformed about even the basic aspects of Christianity, with all devotion now focused on listening to sermons and discussions about theoretical and societal issues.
26th September, 1655. I went to see Colonel Blount's subterranean warren, and drank of the wine of his vineyard, which was good for little.
26th September, 1655. I went to check out Colonel Blount's underground complex and tried the wine from his vineyard, which wasn’t very good.
30th September, 1655. Sir Nicholas Crisp came to treat with me about his vast design of a mole to be made for ships in part of my grounds at Sayes Court.
30th September, 1655. Sir Nicholas Crisp came to discuss his ambitious plan for a mole to be built for ships on part of my property at Sayes Court.
3d November, 1655. I had accidentally discourse with a Persian and a Greek concerning the devastation of Poland by the late incursion of the Swedes.[Pg 307]
3rd November, 1655. I happened to have a conversation with a Persian and a Greek about the destruction of Poland caused by the recent invasion of the Swedes.[Pg 307]
27th November, 1655. To London about Sir Nicholas Crisp's designs.
27th November, 1655. To London regarding Sir Nicholas Crisp's plans.
I went to see York House and gardens, belonging to the former great Buckingham, but now much ruined through neglect.
I went to check out York House and gardens, which used to belong to the famous Buckingham, but now they're pretty much falling apart due to neglect.
Thence, to visit honest and learned Mr. Hartlib, a public spirited and ingenious person, who had propagated many useful things and arts. He told me of the castles which they set for ornament on their stoves in Germany (he himself being a Lithuanian, as I remember), which are furnished with small ordnance of silver on the battlements, out of which they discharge excellent perfumes about the rooms, charging them with a little powder to set them on fire, and disperse the smoke: and in truth no more than need, for their stoves are sufficiently nasty. He told me of an ink that would give a dozen copies, moist sheets of paper being pressed on it; and remain perfect; and a receipt how to take off any print without the least injury to the original. This gentleman was master of innumerable curiosities, and very communicative. I returned home that evening by water; and was afflicted for it with a cold that had almost killed me.
Then, I went to visit the honest and knowledgeable Mr. Hartlib, a public-spirited and clever person who had shared many useful ideas and skills. He told me about the decorative castles they place on their stoves in Germany (he himself being from Lithuania, if I remember correctly), which are equipped with small silver cannons on the battlements that release wonderful perfumes into the rooms, using a little powder to ignite them and disperse the smoke. And honestly, that’s all they need, since their stoves are quite dirty. He mentioned an ink that could produce a dozen copies when moist sheets of paper were pressed onto it, remaining perfect afterward, and a method for removing any print without harming the original. This gentleman had countless fascinating items and was very open about sharing them. I returned home that evening by boat and ended up catching a cold that almost made me really ill.
This day, came forth the Protector's Edict, or Proclamation, prohibiting all ministers of the Church of England from preaching or teaching any schools, in which he imitated the apostate, Julian; with the decimation of all the royal party's revenues throughout England.
This day, the Protector's Edict or Proclamation was issued, banning all ministers of the Church of England from preaching or teaching in any schools, similar to how the apostate Julian did; along with the reduction of all the royal party's revenues across England.
14th December, 1655. I visited Mr. Hobbes, the famous philosopher of Malmesbury, with whom I had been long acquainted in France.
14th December, 1655. I visited Mr. Hobbes, the renowned philosopher from Malmesbury, whom I had known for a long time in France.
Now were the Jews admitted.
Now the Jews were admitted.
25th December, 1655. There was no more notice taken of Christmas-day in churches.
25th December, 1655. Christmas Day was no longer acknowledged in churches.
I went to London, where Dr. Wild preached the funeral sermon of Preaching, this being the last day; after which Cromwell's proclamation was to take place, that none of the Church of England should dare either to preach, or administer Sacraments, teach schools, etc., on pain of imprisonment, or exile. So this was the most mournful day that in my life I had seen, or the Church of England herself, since the Reformation; to the great rejoicing of both Papist and Presbyter.54 So pathetic[Pg 308] was his discourse, that it drew many tears from the auditory. Myself, wife, and some of our family, received the Communion, God make me thankful, who hath hitherto provided for us the food of our souls as well as bodies! The Lord Jesus pity our distressed Church, and bring back the captivity of Zion!
I went to London, where Dr. Wild gave the funeral sermon for Preaching on this final day; afterward, Cromwell's proclamation was to be announced, stating that no one from the Church of England should dare to preach, administer Sacraments, teach in schools, etc., under the threat of imprisonment or exile. This was the saddest day I had ever witnessed in my life, or for the Church of England itself, since the Reformation; much to the joy of both Papists and Presbyterians. So touching was his speech that it caused many in the audience to cry. My wife, some family members, and I took Communion, and I thank God, who has continued to provide for us spiritually as well as physically! May the Lord Jesus have compassion on our troubled Church and restore Zion!
5th January, 1655-56. Came to visit me my Lord Lisle, son to the Earl of Leicester, with Sir Charles Ouseley, two of the Usurper's council; Mr. John Hervey, and John Denham, the poet.
5th January, 1655-56. My Lord Lisle, son of the Earl of Leicester, came to visit me, along with Sir Charles Ouseley, two members of the Usurper's council; Mr. John Hervey, and the poet John Denham.
18th January, 1656. Went to Eltham on foot, being a great frost, but a mist falling as I returned, gave me such a rheum as kept me within doors near a whole month after.
18th January, 1656. I walked to Eltham since it was really cold, but on my way back, some mist started falling, giving me a cold that kept me inside for nearly a whole month afterward.
5th February, 1656. Was shown me a pretty perspective and well represented in a triangular box, the great Church of Haarlem in Holland, to be seen through a small hole at one of the corners, and contrived into a handsome cabinet. It was so rarely done, that all the artists and painters in town flocked to see and admire it.
5th February, 1656. I was shown a beautiful view, creatively displayed in a triangular box, of the great Church of Haarlem in Holland, visible through a small hole in one of the corners, and designed into a stylish cabinet. It was so well done that all the artists and painters in town gathered to see and admire it.
10th February, 1656. I heard Dr. Wilkins preach before the Lord Mayor in St. Paul's, showing how obedience was preferable to sacrifice. He was a most obliging person, who had married the Protector's sister, and took great pains to preserve the Universities from the ignorant, sacrilegious commanders and soldiers, who would fain have demolished all places and persons that pretended to learning.
10th February, 1656. I heard Dr. Wilkins preach before the Lord Mayor at St. Paul's, explaining how obedience is better than sacrifice. He was a very accommodating person, who had married the Protector's sister, and worked hard to protect the Universities from the ignorant, sacrilegious commanders and soldiers, who wanted to destroy all places and people that claimed to have knowledge.
11th February, 1656. I ventured to go to Whitehall, where of many years I had not been, and found it very glorious and well furnished, as far as I could safely go, and was glad to find they had not much defaced that rare piece of Henry VII., etc., done on the walls of the King's privy chamber.
11th February, 1656. I decided to visit Whitehall, a place I hadn't been to in many years, and I found it very impressive and well-decorated, as much as I could access safely. I was pleased to see that they hadn't done much damage to that wonderful piece of artwork from Henry VII, etc., that's on the walls of the King's private chamber.
14th February, 1656. I dined with Mr. Berkeley, son of Lord Berkeley, of Berkeley Castle, where I renewed my acquaintance with my Lord Bruce, my fellow-traveler in Italy.
14th February, 1656. I had dinner with Mr. Berkeley, son of Lord Berkeley, from Berkeley Castle, where I reconnected with my Lord Bruce, my travel companion in Italy.
19th February, 1656. Went with Dr. Wilkins to see Barlow, the famous painter of fowls, beasts, and birds.[Pg 309]
19th February, 1656. Went with Dr. Wilkins to see Barlow, the well-known painter of animals and birds.[Pg 309]
4th March, 1656. This night I was invited by Mr. Roger L'Estrange to hear the incomparable Lubicer on the violin. His variety on a few notes and plain ground, with that wonderful dexterity, was admirable. Though a young man, yet so perfect and skillful, that there was nothing, however cross and perplexed, brought to him by our artists, which he did not play off at sight with ravishing sweetness and improvements, to the astonishment of our best masters. In sum, he played on the single instrument a full concert, so as the rest flung down their instruments, acknowledging the victory. As to my own particular, I stand to this hour amazed that God should give so great perfection to so young a person. There were at that time as excellent in their profession as any were thought to be in Europe, Paul Wheeler, Mr. Mell, and others, till this prodigy appeared. I can no longer question the effects we read of in David's harp to charm evil spirits, or what is said some particular notes produced in the passions of Alexander, and that King of Denmark.
4th March, 1656. Tonight I was invited by Mr. Roger L'Estrange to hear the incredible Lubicer play the violin. His ability to create variety from just a few notes and a simple melody, along with his amazing skill, was impressive. Even though he was young, he was so perfect and talented that there was nothing too complicated brought to him by our musicians that he couldn't play effortlessly with stunning beauty and improvements, leaving even our best masters in awe. In short, he managed to produce a full concert from just one instrument, causing the others to put down their instruments in recognition of his superiority. As for me, I am still amazed that God has granted such perfection to someone so young. At that time, there were others who were considered exceptional in their field, like Paul Wheeler, Mr. Mell, and others, until this prodigy appeared. I can no longer doubt the effects we read about in the stories of David's harp that could soothe evil spirits, or the special notes said to have stirred the passions of Alexander and the King of Denmark.
12th April, 1656. Mr. Berkeley and Mr. Robert Boyle (that excellent person and great virtuoso), Dr. Taylor, and Dr. Wilkins, dined with me at Sayes Court, when I presented Dr. Wilkins with my rare burning-glass. In the afternoon, we all went to Colonel Blount's, to see his newly-invented plows.
12th April, 1656. Mr. Berkeley and Mr. Robert Boyle (that amazing person and great inventor), Dr. Taylor, and Dr. Wilkins had dinner with me at Sayes Court, where I gave Dr. Wilkins my rare burning-glass. In the afternoon, we all went to Colonel Blount's to check out his newly invented plows.
22d April, 1656. Came to see Mr. Henshaw and Sir William Paston's son, since Earl of Yarmouth. Afterward, I went to see his Majesty's house at Eltham, both palace and chapel in miserable ruins, the noble woods and park destroyed by Rich, the rebel.
22nd April, 1656. I visited Mr. Henshaw and Sir William Paston’s son, who is now the Earl of Yarmouth. Later, I went to check out the King’s residence at Eltham; both the palace and chapel are in terrible disrepair, and the magnificent woods and park have been ruined by Rich, the rebel.
6th May, 1656. I brought Monsieur le Franc, a young French Sorbonnist, a proselyte, to converse with Dr. Taylor; they fell to dispute on original sin, in Latin, upon a book newly published by the Doctor, who was much satisfied with the young man. Thence, to see Mr. Dugdale, our learned antiquary and herald. Returning, I was shown the three vast volumes of Father Kircher's, "Obeliscus Pamphilius" and "Ægyptiacus"; in the second volume I found the hieroglyphic I first communicated and sent to him at Rome by the hands of Mr. Henshaw, whom he mentions; I designed it from the stone itself brought me to Venice from Cairo by Captain Powell.[Pg 310]
6th May, 1656. I brought Monsieur le Franc, a young French student from Sorbonne, who was eager to learn, to talk with Dr. Taylor; they got into a debate about original sin in Latin, based on a book recently published by the Doctor, who was quite pleased with the young man. Afterwards, I went to see Mr. Dugdale, our knowledgeable antiquary and herald. On the way back, I was shown the three large volumes of Father Kircher's, "Obeliscus Pamphilius" and "Ægyptiacus"; in the second volume, I discovered the hieroglyphic I first shared with him and sent to Rome through the hands of Mr. Henshaw, whom he mentions; I based it on the stone itself that Captain Powell brought to Venice from Cairo.[Pg 310]
7th May, 1656. I visited Dr. Taylor, and prevailed on him to propose Monsieur le Franc to the Bishop that he might have Orders, I having sometime before brought him to a full consent to the Church of England, her doctrine and discipline, in which he had till of late made some difficulty; so he was this day ordained both deacon and priest by the Bishop of Meath. I paid the fees to his lordship, who was very poor and in great want; to that necessity were our clergy reduced! In the afternoon I met Alderman Robinson, to treat with Mr. Papillion about the marriage of my cousin, George Tuke, with Mrs. Fontaine.
7th May, 1656. I visited Dr. Taylor and convinced him to recommend Monsieur le Franc to the Bishop so he could receive Orders. I had previously helped Monsieur le Franc fully accept the Church of England, its beliefs, and practices, which he had struggled with until recently. So today, he was ordained as both a deacon and a priest by the Bishop of Meath. I paid the fees to his lordship, who was very poor and in great need; our clergy have really been brought down to such necessity! In the afternoon, I met Alderman Robinson to discuss my cousin, George Tuke's, marriage to Mrs. Fontaine with Mr. Papillion.
8th May, 1656. I went to visit Dr. Wilkins, at Whitehall, when I first met with Sir P. Neal, famous for his optic glasses. Greatorix, the mathematical instrument maker, showed me his excellent invention to quench fire.
8th May, 1656. I went to visit Dr. Wilkins at Whitehall, where I first met Sir P. Neal, well-known for his optical lenses. Greatorix, the maker of mathematical instruments, demonstrated his impressive invention for extinguishing fires.
12th May, 1656. Was published my "Essay on Lucretius," with innumerable errata by the negligence of Mr. Triplet, who undertook the correction of the press in my absence. Little of the Epicurean philosophy was then known among us.
12th May, 1656. My "Essay on Lucretius" was published, filled with countless mistakes due to the carelessness of Mr. Triplet, who took on the proofreading while I was away. At that time, very little of the Epicurean philosophy was known to us.
28th May, 1656. I dined with Nieuport, the Holland Ambassador, who received me with extraordinary courtesy. I found him a judicious, crafty, and wise man. He gave me excellent cautions as to the danger of the times, and the circumstances our nation was in. I remember the observation he made upon the ill success of our former Parliaments, and their private animosities, and little care of the public.
28th May, 1656. I had lunch with Nieuport, the Dutch Ambassador, who welcomed me with great kindness. I found him to be a thoughtful, clever, and wise man. He gave me valuable warnings about the dangers of the times and the situation our country was facing. I remember his comments on the poor outcomes of our previous Parliaments, their internal conflicts, and their lack of concern for the public good.
Came to visit me the old Marquis of Argyle (since executed), Lord Lothian, and some other Scotch noblemen, all strangers to me. Note, the Marquis took the turtle-doves in the aviary for owls.
Came to visit me the old Marquis of Argyle (who has since been executed), Lord Lothian, and some other Scottish noblemen, all strangers to me. Note that the Marquis mistook the turtle-doves in the aviary for owls.
The Earl of Southampton (since Treasurer) and Mr. Spencer, brother to the Earl of Sunderland, came to see my garden.
The Earl of Southampton (now Treasurer) and Mr. Spencer, brother of the Earl of Sunderland, came to check out my garden.
7th July, 1656. I began my journey to see some parts of the northeast of England; but the weather was so excessively hot and dusty, I shortened my progress.
7th July, 1656. I started my trip to explore some areas in the northeast of England, but the weather was extremely hot and dusty, so I decided to cut my journey short.
8th July, 1656. To Colchester, a fair town, but now wretchedly demolished by the late siege, especially the suburbs, which were all burned, but were then repairing. The town is built on a rising ground, having fair[Pg 311] meadows on one side, and a river with a strong ancient castle, said to have been built by King Coilus, father of Helena, mother of Constantine the Great, of whom I find no memory save at the pinnacle of one of their wool-staple houses, where is a statue of Coilus, in wood, wretchedly carved. The walls are exceedingly strong, deeply trenched, and filled with earth. It has six gates, and some watchtowers, and some handsome churches. But what was shown us as a kind of miracle, at the outside of the Castle, the wall where Sir Charles Lucas and Sir George Lisle, those valiant and noble persons who so bravely behaved themselves in the last siege, were barbarously shot, murdered by Ireton in cold blood, after surrendering on articles; having been disappointed of relief from the Scotch army, which had been defeated with the King at Worcester. The place was bare of grass for a large space, all the rest of it abounding with herbage. For the rest, this is a ragged and factious town, now swarming with sectaries. Their trading is in cloth with the Dutch, and baize and says with Spain; it is the only place in England where these stuffs are made unsophisticated. It is also famous for oysters and eringo root, growing hereabout, and candied for sale.
8th July, 1656. We went to Colchester, a once-great town that has been sadly wrecked by the recent siege, especially the suburbs, which were all burned but are currently being repaired. The town is located on a hill, with beautiful meadows on one side and a river with a strong ancient castle, which is said to have been built by King Coilus, the father of Helena, who was the mother of Constantine the Great. The only reminder of him I found was at the top of one of their wool-staple houses, where there is a poorly carved wooden statue of Coilus. The walls are extremely strong, deeply dug, and filled with earth. There are six gates, some watchtowers, and a few nice churches. What we were shown as a sort of miracle was the spot outside the Castle where Sir Charles Lucas and Sir George Lisle, those brave and noble men who fought valiantly during the last siege, were barbarically shot and killed by Ireton in cold blood after surrendering under agreed terms; they had been let down by help from the Scottish army, which had been defeated with the King at Worcester. That area was bare of grass for a large stretch, while the rest was full of greenery. Overall, it's a rough and troubled town, now filled with various factions. Their trade mainly consists of cloth with the Dutch, and baize and says with Spain; it's the only place in England where these materials are made pure. It’s also well-known for its oysters and eringo root, which grow in this area and are sold candied.
Went to Dedham, a pretty country town, having a very fair church, finely situated, the valley well watered. Here, I met with Dr. Stokes, a young gentleman, but an excellent mathematician. This is a clothing town, as most are in Essex, but lies in the unwholesome hundreds.
Went to Dedham, a lovely country town, with a nice church in a great location, and the valley is well watered. Here, I met Dr. Stokes, a young man but an excellent mathematician. This is a clothing town, like most in Essex, but it’s located in an unhealthy area.
Hence to Ipswich, doubtless one of the sweetest, most pleasant, well-built towns in England. It has twelve fair churches, many noble houses, especially the Lord Devereux's; a brave quay, and commodious harbor, being about seven miles from the main; an ample market place. Here was born the great Cardinal Wolsey, who began a palace here, which was not finished.
So, to Ipswich, definitely one of the loveliest, most enjoyable, well-constructed towns in England. It has twelve beautiful churches, many impressive houses, especially Lord Devereux's; a fine quay and a convenient harbor, located about seven miles from the coast; a spacious market place. The great Cardinal Wolsey was born here, who started building a palace that was never completed.
I had the curiosity to visit some Quakers here in prison; a new fanatic sect, of dangerous principles, who show no respect to any man, magistrate, or other, and seem a melancholy, proud sort of people, and exceedingly ignorant. One of these was said to have fasted twenty days; but another, endeavoring to do the like, perished on the 10th, when he would have eaten, but could not.[Pg 312]
I was curious to meet some Quakers here in prison; a new fanatic group with dangerous beliefs, who show no respect for anyone, including magistrates, and seem to be a gloomy, prideful bunch, incredibly uninformed. One of them was said to have fasted for twenty days; however, another one, trying to do the same, died on the 10th when he wanted to eat but couldn't.[Pg 312]
10th July, 1656. I returned homeward, passing again through Colchester; and, by the way, near the ancient town of Chelmsford, saw New Hall, built in a park by Henry VII. and VIII., and given by Queen Elizabeth to the Earl of Sussex, who sold it to the late great Duke of Buckingham, and since seized on by Oliver Cromwell (pretended Protector). It is a fair old house, built with brick, low, being only of two stories, as the manner then was; the gate-house better; the court, large and pretty; the staircase, of extraordinary wideness, with a piece representing Sir Francis Drake's action in the year 1580, an excellent sea-piece; the galleries are trifling; the hall is noble; the garden a fair plot, and the whole seat well accommodated with water; but, above all, I admired the fair avenue planted with stately lime trees, in four rows, for near a mile in length. It has three descents, which is the only fault, and may be reformed. There is another fair walk of the same at the mall and wilderness, with a tennis-court, and pleasant terrace toward the park, which was well stored with deer and ponds.
July 10, 1656. I headed home, passing through Colchester once more; on the way, near the historic town of Chelmsford, I saw New Hall, built in a park by Henry VII and VIII, and given by Queen Elizabeth to the Earl of Sussex, who sold it to the late great Duke of Buckingham. It was later taken over by Oliver Cromwell (the so-called Protector). It's a lovely old house, made of brick, low since it only has two stories, as was common back then; the gatehouse is nicer; the courtyard is large and attractive; the staircase is remarkably wide, featuring a painting depicting Sir Francis Drake's action in 1580, which is an excellent seascape; the galleries are minor; the hall is impressive; the garden is a nice spot, and the entire estate is well-supplied with water; but what stood out the most to me was the beautiful avenue lined with majestic lime trees, arranged in four rows extending nearly a mile. It has three levels, which is the only drawback, and could be improved. There's another lovely walk like this one at the mall and wilderness, with a tennis court and a pleasant terrace facing the park, which was well-stocked with deer and ponds.
11th July, 1656. Came home by Greenwich ferry, where I saw Sir J. Winter's project of charring sea-coal, to burn out the sulphur, and render it sweet. He did it by burning the coals in such earthen pots as the glass men melt their metal, so firing them without consuming them, using a bar of iron in each crucible, or pot, which bar has a hook at one end, that so the coals being melted in a furnace with other crude sea-coals under them, may be drawn out of the pots sticking to the iron, whence they are beaten off in great half-exhausted cinders, which being rekindled, make a clear, pleasant chamber-fire, deprived of their sulphur and arsenic malignity. What success it may have, time will discover.55
11th July, 1656. Came home by Greenwich ferry, where I saw Sir J. Winter's idea of charring sea-coal to burn off the sulfur and make it cleaner. He did this by burning the coal in earthen pots similar to those used by glassmakers, firing them without completely consuming the coal. He used a bar of iron in each crucible or pot, with a hook at one end, so the molten coal can be pulled out of the pots, sticking to the iron. The coal is then knocked off into large, partially exhausted cinders, which, when reignited, provide a clear, pleasant fire free from sulfur and harmful arsenic. Time will reveal its success.55
3d August, 1656. I went to London, to receive the Blessed Sacrament, the first time the Church of England was reduced to a chamber and conventicle; so sharp was the persecution. The parish churches were filled with sectaries of all sorts, blasphemous and ignorant mechanics usurping the pulpits everywhere. Dr. Wild preached in a[Pg 313] private house in Fleet Street, where we had a great meeting of zealous Christians, who were generally much more devout and religious than in our greatest prosperity. In the afternoon, I went to the French Church in the Savoy, where I heard Monsieur d'Espagne catechize, and so returned to my house.
3rd August, 1656. I went to London to receive the Blessed Sacrament, the first time the Church of England was reduced to a small gathering and informal meeting; the persecution was so severe. The parish churches were overcrowded with all kinds of nonconformists, with blasphemous and uneducated workers taking over the pulpits everywhere. Dr. Wild preached in a [Pg 313] private home on Fleet Street, where we had a significant gathering of passionate Christians, who were generally much more devout and religious than during our peak times. In the afternoon, I attended the French Church in the Savoy, where I listened to Monsieur d'Espagne teaching the catechism, and then returned home.
20th August, 1656. Was a confused election of Parliament called by the Usurper.
20th August, 1656. There was a chaotic election for Parliament called by the Usurper.
7th September, 1656. I went to take leave of my excellent neighbor and friend, Sir. H. Newton and lady, now going to dwell at Warwick; and Mr. Needham, my dear and learned friend, came to visit me.
7th September, 1656. I went to say goodbye to my wonderful neighbor and friend, Sir H. Newton and his wife, who are now moving to Warwick; and Mr. Needham, my dear and knowledgeable friend, came to visit me.
14th September, 1656. Now was old Sir Henry Vane56 sent to Carisbrook Castle, in Wight, for a foolish book he published; the pretended Protector fortifying himself exceedingly, and sending many to prison.
14th September, 1656. Now old Sir Henry Vane56 was sent to Carisbrook Castle, on the Isle of Wight, for a silly book he published; the so-called Protector was fortifying himself a lot and sending many people to prison.
2d October, 1656. Came to visit me my cousin, Stephens, and Mr. Pierce (since head of Magdalen College, Oxford), a learned minister of Brington, in Northamptonshire, and Captain Cooke, both excellent musicians.
2d October, 1656. My cousin, Stephens, along with Mr. Pierce (who is now the head of Magdalen College, Oxford), a knowledgeable minister from Brington in Northamptonshire, and Captain Cooke, both great musicians, came to visit me.
2d November, 1656. There was now nothing practical preached, or that pressed reformation of life, but high and speculative points and strains that few understood, which left people very ignorant, and of no steady principles, the source of all our sects and divisions, for there was much envy and uncharity in the world; God of his mercy amend it! Now, indeed, that I went at all to church, while these usurpers possessed the pulpits, was that I might not be suspected for a Papist, and that, though the minister was Presbyterianly affected, he yet was as I understood duly ordained, and preached sound doctrine after their way, and besides was an humble, harmless, and peaceable man.
2nd November, 1656. There was nothing practical being preached anymore or anything that encouraged real change in people's lives, just high-level, theoretical ideas that few could grasp. This left people very uninformed and without solid principles, which was the root of all our sects and divisions, as there was a lot of envy and unkindness in the world; may God in His mercy fix it! The only reason I even went to church while these usurpers occupied the pulpits was to avoid being suspected of being a Papist. The minister, although leaning towards Presbyterian views, was, as far as I knew, properly ordained and preached sound doctrine according to their way, and besides, he was a humble, harmless, and peaceful man.
25th December, 1656. I went to London, to receive the Blessed Communion, this holy festival at Dr. Wild's lodgings, where I rejoiced to find so full an assembly of devout and sober Christians.[Pg 314]
25th December, 1656. I went to London to receive the Blessed Communion on this holy festival at Dr. Wild's place, where I was happy to find such a large group of devoted and sensible Christians.[Pg 314]
26th December, 1656. I invited some of my neighbors and tenants, according to custom, and to preserve hospitality and charity.
26th December, 1656. I invited some of my neighbors and tenants, as is customary, to maintain hospitality and goodwill.
28th December, 1656. A stranger preached on Luke xviii. 7, 8, on which he made a confused discourse, with a great deal of Greek and ostentation of learning, to but little purpose.
28th December, 1656. A stranger preached on Luke xviii. 7, 8, delivering a muddled discourse filled with a lot of Greek and a show of learning, but it was mostly pointless.
30th December, 1656. Dined with me Sir William Paston's son, Mr. Henshaw, and Mr. Clayton.
30th December, 1656. Had dinner with me Sir William Paston's son, Mr. Henshaw, and Mr. Clayton.
31st December, 1656. I begged God's blessing and mercies for his goodness to me the past year, and set my domestic affairs in order.
31st December, 1656. I asked for God's blessing and kindness for all the good I've received in the past year, and I organized my home affairs.
1st January, 1656-57. Having prayed with my family, and celebrated the anniversary, I spent some time in imploring God's blessing the year I was entered into.
1st January, 1656-57. After praying with my family and celebrating the anniversary, I took some time to ask for God's blessing on the new year I was entering.
7th January, 1657. Came Mr. Matthew Wren (since secretary to the Duke), slain in the Dutch war, eldest son to the Bishop of Ely, now a prisoner in the Tower; a most worthy and honored gentleman.
7th January, 1657. Mr. Matthew Wren came by (now the secretary to the Duke), killed in the Dutch war, the oldest son of the Bishop of Ely, currently a prisoner in the Tower; a truly esteemed and respected gentleman.
10th January, 1657. Came Dr. Joyliffe, that famous physician and anatomist, first detector of the lymphatic veins; also the old Marquis of Argyle, and another Scotch Earl.
10th January, 1657. Dr. Joyliffe, the renowned physician and anatomist who was the first to discover the lymphatic veins, came by; along with him were the old Marquis of Argyle and another Scottish Earl.
5th February, 1657. Dined at the Holland Ambassador's; he told me the East India Company of Holland had constantly a stock of £400,000 in India, and forty-eight men-of-war there: he spoke of their exact and just keeping their books and correspondence, so as no adventurer's stock could possibly be lost, or defeated; that it was a vulgar error that the Hollanders furnished their enemies with powder and ammunition for their money, though engaged in a cruel war, but that they used to merchandise indifferently, and were permitted to sell to the friends of their enemies. He laughed at our Committee of Trade, as composed of men wholly ignorant of it, and how they were the ruin of commerce, by gratifying some for private ends.
5th February, 1657. Dined at the Dutch Ambassador's; he told me that the Dutch East India Company always had a stock of £400,000 in India, along with forty-eight warships there. He described how precisely and accurately they kept their records and correspondence, ensuring that no investor's capital could possibly be lost or defeated. He mentioned that it was a common misconception that the Dutch supplied their enemies with gunpowder and ammunition for profit, despite being in a brutal war, but that they traded indiscriminately and were allowed to sell to the allies of their enemies. He mocked our Trade Committee, saying it was made up of people completely ignorant of the matter, and that they were ruining commerce by catering to personal interests.
10th February, 1657. I went to visit the governor of Havannah, a brave, sober, valiant Spanish gentleman, taken by Captain Young, of Deptford, when, after twenty years being in the Indies, and amassing great wealth, his lady and whole family, except two sons, were burned, destroyed, and taken within sight of Spain, his eldest[Pg 315] son, daughter, and wife, perishing with immense treasure. One son, of about seventeen years old, with his brother of one year old, were the only ones saved. The young gentleman, about seventeen, was a well-complexioned youth, not olive-colored; he spoke Latin handsomely, was extremely well-bred, and born in the Caraccas, 1,000 miles south of the equinoctial, near the mountains of Potosi; he had never been in Europe before. The Governor was an ancient gentleman of great courage, of the order of St. Jago, sorely wounded in his arm, and his ribs broken; he lost for his own share £100,000 sterling, which he seemed to bear with exceeding indifference, and nothing dejected. After some discourse, I went with them to Arundel House, where they dined. They were now going back into Spain, having obtained their liberty from Cromwell. An example of human vicissitude!
10th February 1657. I went to visit the governor of Havana, a brave, serious, and valiant Spanish gentleman, taken by Captain Young from Deptford. After spending twenty years in the Indies and accumulating great wealth, his wife and entire family, except for two sons, were burned and killed right before his eyes, with his eldest son, daughter, and wife perishing along with immense treasure. Only one son, around seventeen years old, and his one-year-old brother were saved. The young gentleman, about seventeen, had a fair complexion, not an olive tone; he spoke Latin beautifully, was extremely well-mannered, and was born in Caracas, a thousand miles south of the equator, near the mountains of Potosí; he had never been to Europe before. The Governor was an elderly gentleman of great courage, a member of the Order of St. James, who was badly wounded in his arm and had broken ribs. He lost £100,000 sterling, which he seemed to accept with remarkable indifference and without any sign of being upset. After some conversation, I went with them to Arundel House, where they had dinner. They were now planning to return to Spain after gaining their freedom from Cromwell. What an example of human unpredictability!
14th February, 1657. To London, where I found Mrs. Cary; next day came Mr. Mordaunt (since Viscount Mordaunt), younger son to the Countess of Peterborough, to see his mistress, bringing with him two of my Lord of Dover's daughters: so, after dinner, they all departed.
14th February, 1657. I went to London, where I met Mrs. Cary; the next day, Mr. Mordaunt (now Viscount Mordaunt), the younger son of the Countess of Peterborough, came to see his girlfriend, bringing along two of my Lord of Dover's daughters. After dinner, they all left.
5th March, 1657. Dr. Rand, a learned physician, dedicated to me his version of Gassendi's "Vita Peiriskii."
5th March, 1657. Dr. Rand, a knowledgeable doctor, dedicated his version of Gassendi's "Vita Peiriskii" to me.
25th March, 1657. Dr. Taylor showed me his MS. of "Cases of Conscience," or "Ductor Dubitantium," now fitted for the press.
25th March, 1657. Dr. Taylor showed me his manuscript of "Cases of Conscience," or "Ductor Dubitantium," now ready for printing.
The Protector Oliver, now affecting kingship, is petitioned to take the title on him by all his newly-made sycophant lords, etc.; but dares not, for fear of the fanatics, not thoroughly purged out of his rebel army.
The Protector Oliver, who is now trying to act like a king, is being asked by all his newly appointed yes-men lords, etc., to take on the title, but he is too afraid to do so because of the fanatics who are still present in his rebel army.
21st April, 1657. Came Sir Thomas Hanmer, of Hanmer, in Wales, to see me. I then waited on my Lord Hatton, with whom I dined: at my return, I stepped into Bedlam, where I saw several poor, miserable creatures in chains; one of them was mad with making verses. I also visited the Charter House, formerly belonging to the Carthusians, now an old, neat, fresh, solitary college for decayed gentlemen. It has a grove, bowling green, garden, chapel, and a hall where they eat in common. I likewise saw Christ Church and Hospital, a very good Gothic building; the hall, school, and lodgings in great order for bringing up many hundreds of poor children of both sexes; it is an exemplary charity. There is a[Pg 316] large picture at one end of the hall, representing the governors, founders, and the institution.
21st April, 1657. Sir Thomas Hanmer from Hanmer, Wales, came to see me. I then visited Lord Hatton, with whom I had lunch: on my way back, I went into Bedlam, where I saw several poor, miserable people in chains; one of them was mad from writing verses. I also visited the Charter House, which used to belong to the Carthusians and is now a neat, quiet college for elderly gentlemen. It has a grove, a bowling green, a garden, a chapel, and a hall where they eat together. I also saw Christ Church and Hospital, a nice Gothic building; the hall, school, and accommodations are well kept for raising many hundreds of poor children of both genders; it's a commendable charity. There is a[Pg 316]large painting at one end of the hall, depicting the governors, founders, and the institution.
25th April, 1657. I had a dangerous fall out of the coach in Covent Garden, going to my brother's, but without harm; the Lord be praised!
25th April, 1657. I had a risky fall out of the coach in Covent Garden while heading to my brother's, but I came out fine; thank the Lord!
1st May, 1657. Divers soldiers were quartered at my house; but I thank God went away the next day toward Flanders.
1st May, 1657. Several soldiers were staying at my house; but I thank God they left the next day for Flanders.
5th May, 1657. I went with my cousin, George Tuke, to see Baynard, in Surrey, a house of my brother Richard's, which he would have hired. This is a very fair, noble residence, built in a park, and having one of the goodliest avenues of oaks up to it that ever I saw: there is a pond of 60 acres near it; the windows of the chief rooms are of very fine painted glass. The situation is excessively dirty and melancholy.
5th May, 1657. I went with my cousin, George Tuke, to see Baynard, in Surrey, a house owned by my brother Richard, which he was considering renting. It's a beautiful, grand place, set in a park, and has one of the most impressive tree-lined drives up to it that I've ever seen: there’s a 60-acre pond nearby, and the main rooms have really nice stained glass windows. However, the area is extremely muddy and gloomy.
15th May, 1657. Lawrence, President of Oliver's Council, and some other of his Court-Lords, came in the afternoon to see my garden and plantations.
15th May, 1657. Lawrence, President of Oliver's Council, and some other members of his Court came in the afternoon to check out my garden and plantings.
7th June, 1657. My fourth son was born, christened George (after my grandfather); Dr. Jeremy Taylor officiated in the drawing-room.
7th June, 1657. My fourth son was born, named George (after my grandfather); Dr. Jeremy Taylor performed the ceremony in the drawing-room.
18th June, 1657. At Greenwich I saw a sort of cat57 brought from the East Indies, shaped and snouted much like the Egyptian racoon, in the body like a monkey, and so footed; the ears and tail like a cat, only the tail much longer, and the skin variously ringed with black and white; with the tail it wound up its body like a serpent, and so got up into trees, and with it would wrap its whole body round. Its hair was woolly like a lamb; it was exceedingly nimble, gentle, and purred as does the cat.
18th June, 1657. At Greenwich, I saw a type of cat57 brought from the East Indies. It was shaped and snouted a lot like an Egyptian raccoon, had a body similar to a monkey, and its feet resembled those of a monkey too. Its ears and tail looked like a cat's, but the tail was much longer, and its skin was patterned with black and white rings. The cat would wind its tail around its body like a serpent to climb trees and would wrap its whole body around branches. Its fur was woolly like a lamb's; it was extremely quick, gentle, and purred like a cat.
16th July, 1657. On Dr. Jeremy Taylor's recommendation, I went to Eltham, to help one Moody, a young man, to that living, by my interest with the patron.
16th July, 1657. Based on Dr. Jeremy Taylor's suggestion, I went to Eltham to assist a young man named Moody in securing that position, using my influence with the patron.
6th August, 1657. I went to see Colonel Blount, who showed me the application of the waywiser58 to a coach,[Pg 317] exactly measuring the miles, and showing them by an index as we went on. It had three circles, one pointing to the number of rods, another to the miles, by 10 to 1,000, with all the subdivisions of quarters; very pretty and useful.
6th August, 1657. I visited Colonel Blount, who demonstrated how the waywiser58 was applied to a coach,[Pg 317] accurately measuring the miles and displaying them on an index as we traveled. It had three dials: one indicating the number of rods, another for miles, scaled from 10 to 1,000, with all the quarter subdivisions; very neat and practical.
10th August, 1657. Our vicar, from John xviii. 36, declaimed against the folly of a sort of enthusiasts and desperate zealots, called the Fifth-Monarchy-Men, pretending to set up the kingdom of Christ with the sword. To this pass was this age arrived when we had no King in Israel.
10th August, 1657. Our vicar, from John xviii. 36, spoke out against the foolishness of a group of enthusiasts and desperate zealots, called the Fifth Monarchists, who claimed they could establish the kingdom of Christ through violence. This is where we found ourselves in a time when there was no King in Israel.
1st September, 1657. I visited Sir Edmund Bowyer, at his melancholy seat at Camberwell. He has a very pretty grove of oaks, and hedges of yew in his garden, and a handsome row of tall elms before his court.
1st September, 1657. I visited Sir Edmund Bowyer at his gloomy home in Camberwell. He has a lovely grove of oak trees and yew hedges in his garden, along with a beautiful line of tall elms in front of his courtyard.
15th September, 1657. Going to London with some company, we stepped in to see a famous rope-dancer, called THE TURK. I saw even to astonishment the agility with which he performed. He walked barefooted, taking hold by his toes only of a rope almost perpendicular, and without so much as touching it with his hands; he danced blind-fold on the high rope, and with a boy of twelve years old tied to one of his feet about twenty feet beneath him, dangling as he danced, yet he moved as nimbly as if it had been but a feather. Lastly, he stood on his head, on the top of a very high mast, danced on a small rope that was very slack, and finally flew down the perpendicular, on his breast, his head foremost, his legs and arms extended, with divers other activities.—I saw the hairy woman, twenty years old, whom I had before seen when a child. She was born at Augsburg, in Germany. Her very eyebrows were combed upward, and all her forehead as thick and even as grows on any woman's head, neatly dressed; a very long lock of hair out of each ear; she had also a most prolix beard, and moustachios, with long locks growing on the middle of her nose, like an Iceland dog exactly, the color of a bright brown, fine as well-dressed flax. She was now married, and told me she had one child that was not hairy, nor were any of her parents, or relations. She was very well shaped, and played well on the harpsichord.[Pg 318]
15th September, 1657. While heading to London with some companions, we decided to check out a famous rope dancer known as THE TURK. I was amazed by the agility with which he performed. He walked barefoot, gripping a nearly vertical rope only with his toes, never touching it with his hands; he danced blindfolded on the high rope with a twelve-year-old boy tied to one of his feet about twenty feet below him, swaying as he danced, yet he moved as nimbly as if he was just balancing a feather. To top it off, he stood on his head atop a very high mast, danced on a loose small rope, and finally descended face-first down a vertical drop, body extended, completing various other impressive feats. I also saw the hairy woman, now twenty years old, whom I had seen as a child. She was born in Augsburg, Germany. Her eyebrows were styled upward, and her forehead was thick and even like that of any woman, neatly groomed; she had very long strands of hair hanging from each ear and a prominent beard and mustache, with long tufts of hair growing down the center of her nose, resembling an Icelandic dog, a bright brown color, and fine as well-prepared flax. She was now married and told me she had one child who was not hairy, and neither were any of her parents or relatives. She was very shapely and played the harpsichord beautifully.[Pg 318]
17th September, 1657. To see Sir Robert Needham, at Lambeth, a relation of mine; and thence to John Tradescant's museum, in which the chiefest rarities were, in my opinion, the ancient Roman, Indian, and other nations' armor, shields, and weapons; some habits of curiously-colored and wrought feathers, one from the phœnix wing, as tradition goes. Other innumerable things there were printed in his catalogue by Mr. Ashmole, to whom after the death of the widow they are bequeathed, and by him designed as a gift to Oxford.
17th September, 1657. I went to visit Sir Robert Needham, a relative of mine, in Lambeth; and then I headed to John Tradescant's museum. In my opinion, the most interesting items were the ancient Roman, Indian, and armor, shields, and weapons from other nations. There were also some garments made of beautifully colored and crafted feathers, including one from a phoenix wing, according to tradition. There were countless other items listed in his catalog by Mr. Ashmole, to whom they were bequeathed after the widow’s death, and he intended to give them to Oxford.
19th October, 1657. I went to see divers gardens about London: returning, I saw at Dr. Joyliffe's two Virginian rattlesnakes alive, exceeding a yard in length, small heads, slender tails, but in the middle nearly the size of my leg; when vexed, swiftly vibrating and shaking their tails, as loud as a child's rattle; this, by the collision of certain gristly skins curiously jointed, yet loose, and transparent as parchment, by which they give warning; a providential caution for other creatures to avoid them. The Doctor tried their biting on rats and mice, which they immediately killed: but their vigor must needs be much exhausted here, in another climate, and kept only in a barrel of bran.
19th October, 1657. I visited several gardens around London. On my way back, I saw two live Virginian rattlesnakes at Dr. Joyliffe's, each over a yard long, with small heads and slender tails, but in the middle, nearly the size of my leg. When they were annoyed, they shook their tails rapidly, making a sound as loud as a child's rattle. This noise came from the collision of certain flexible, intricately jointed, transparent skins that serve as a warning for other creatures to stay away. The Doctor tested their bites on rats and mice, which they killed instantly. However, their energy must be greatly diminished after being in this different climate and kept only in a barrel of bran.
22d October, 1657. To town, to visit the Holland Ambassador, with whom I had now contracted much friendly correspondence, useful to the intelligence I constantly gave his Majesty abroad.
22nd October, 1657. I went to town to visit the Dutch Ambassador, with whom I had developed a lot of friendly correspondence, helpful for the information I always provided to his Majesty abroad.
26th November, 1657. I went to London, to a court of the East India Company on its new union, in Merchant-Taylors' Hall, where was much disorder by reason of the Anabaptists, who would have the adventurers obliged only by an engagement, without swearing, that they still might pursue their private trade; but it was carried against them. Wednesday was fixed on for a general court for election of officers, after a sermon and prayers for good success. The Stock resolved on was £800,000.
26th November, 1657. I went to London for a meeting of the East India Company about its new partnership at Merchant-Taylors' Hall, where there was a lot of chaos because of the Anabaptists, who wanted the investors to be bound only by a commitment instead of an oath, so they could still trade privately; but their proposal was voted down. Wednesday was set for a general meeting to elect officers, following a sermon and prayers for success. The agreed stock amount was £800,000.
27th November, 1657. I took the oath at the East India House, subscribing £500.
27th November, 1657. I took the oath at the East India House, contributing £500.
2d December, 1657. Dr. Raynolds (since Bishop of Norwich) preached before the company at St. Andrew Under-shaft, on Nehemiah xiii. 31, showing, by the example of Nehemiah, all the perfections of a trusty per[Pg 319]son in public affairs, with many good precepts apposite to the occasion, ending with a prayer for God's blessing on the company and the undertaking.
2nd December, 1657. Dr. Raynolds (later Bishop of Norwich) preached to the group at St. Andrew Under-shaft, focusing on Nehemiah xiii. 31, illustrating through Nehemiah's example all the qualities of a reliable person in public matters, along with several beneficial guidelines relevant to the situation, concluding with a prayer for God's blessing on the group and the endeavor.
3d December, 1657. Mr. Gunning preached on John iii. 3, against the Anabaptists, showing the effect and necessity of the sacrament of baptism. This sect was now wonderfully spread.
3rd December, 1657. Mr. Gunning preached on John iii. 3, criticizing the Anabaptists and demonstrating the importance and necessity of the sacrament of baptism. This group was now remarkably widespread.
25th December, 1657. I went to London with my wife, to celebrate Christmas-day, Mr. Gunning preaching in Exeter chapel, on Micah vii. 2. Sermon ended, as he was giving us the Holy Sacrament, the chapel was surrounded with soldiers, and all the communicants and assembly surprised and kept prisoners by them, some in the house, others carried away. It fell to my share to be confined to a room in the house, where yet I was permitted to dine with the master of it, the Countess of Dorset, Lady Hatton, and some others of quality who invited me. In the afternoon, came Colonel Whalley, Goffe, and others, from Whitehall, to examine us one by one; some they committed to the marshal, some to prison. When I came before them, they took my name and abode, examined me why, contrary to the ordinance made, that none should any longer observe the superstitious time of the nativity (so esteemed by them), I durst offend, and particularly be at common prayers, which they told me was but the mass in English, and particularly pray for Charles Stuart; for which we had no Scripture. I told them we did not pray for Charles Stuart, but for all Christian kings, princes, and governors. They replied, in so doing we prayed for the king of Spain, too, who was their enemy and a Papist, with other frivolous and ensnaring questions, and much threatening; and, finding no color to detain me, they dismissed me with much pity of my ignorance. These were men of high flight and above ordinances, and spoke spiteful things of our Lord's nativity. As we went up to receive the Sacrament, the miscreants held their muskets against us, as if they would have shot us at the altar; but yet suffering us to finish the office of Communion, as perhaps not having instructions what to do, in case they found us in that action. So I got home late the next day; blessed be God!
25th December, 1657. I went to London with my wife to celebrate Christmas Day, with Mr. Gunning preaching at Exeter Chapel on Micah vii. 2. After the sermon ended, while he was giving us the Holy Sacrament, soldiers surrounded the chapel, capturing all the communicants and the assembly, some were held in the house, while others were taken away. I was confined to a room in the house but was allowed to have dinner with the host, the Countess of Dorset, Lady Hatton, and some other high-status guests who invited me. In the afternoon, Colonel Whalley, Goffe, and others arrived from Whitehall to question us one by one; some were handed over to the marshal, and some were imprisoned. When it was my turn, they took my name and residence and asked me why, contrary to their ordinance which prohibited observing the so-called superstitious time of the nativity, I dared to offend by being present at common prayers, which they claimed was just the mass in English, and especially for praying for Charles Stuart, for which they said there was no scripture. I replied that we didn’t pray specifically for Charles Stuart, but for all Christian kings, princes, and governors. They countered that by doing this, we were also praying for the King of Spain, who was their enemy and a Papist, along with other trivial and entrapment questions, coupled with a lot of threats. Finding no grounds to hold me, they let me go, expressing pity for my ignorance. These were men of high status who disregarded ordinances and spoke harshly about our Lord's nativity. As we approached to receive the Sacrament, the miscreants pointed their muskets at us, as if they were ready to shoot us at the altar; but they allowed us to complete the Communion service, perhaps not knowing what to do if they caught us in that act. I got home late the next day; blessed be God!
27th January, 1657-58. After six fits of a quartan ague, with which it pleased God to visit him, died my dear son,[Pg 320] Richard, to our inexpressible grief and affliction, five years and three days old only, but at that tender age a prodigy for wit and understanding; for beauty of body, a very angel; for endowment of mind, of incredible and rare hopes. To give only a little taste of them, and thereby glory to God, who "out of the mouths of babes and infants does sometimes perfect his praises," he had learned all his catechism; at two years and a half old, he could perfectly read any of the English, Latin, French, or Gothic letters, pronouncing the first three languages exactly. He had, before the fifth year, or in that year, not only skill to read most written hands, but to decline all the nouns, conjugate the verbs regular, and most of the irregular; learned out "Puerilis," got by heart almost the entire vocabulary of Latin and French primitives and words, could make congruous syntax, turn English into Latin, and vice versâ, construe and prove what he read, and did the government and use of relatives, verbs, substantives, ellipses, and many figures and tropes, and made a considerable progress in Comenius's "Janua"; began himself to write legibly, and had a strong passion for Greek. The number of verses he could recite was prodigious, and what he remembered of the parts of plays, which he would also act; and, when seeing a Plautus in one's hand, he asked what book it was, and, being told it was comedy, and too difficult for him, he wept for sorrow. Strange was his apt and ingenious application of fables and morals; for he had read Æsop; he had a wonderful disposition to mathematics, having by heart divers propositions of Euclid that were read to him in play, and he would make lines and demonstrate them. As to his piety, astonishing were his applications of Scripture upon occasion, and his sense of God; he had learned all his catechism early, and understood the historical part of the Bible and New Testament to a wonder, how Christ came to redeem mankind, and how, comprehending these necessaries himself, his godfathers were discharged of their promise.
27th January, 1657-58. After suffering through six episodes of quartan fever, which God saw fit to inflict upon him, my dear son, [Pg 320] Richard, passed away, leaving us in deep sorrow and grief. He was only five years and three days old, but even at such a young age, he was extraordinary in wit and understanding; he was an angel in beauty and possessed a mind full of incredible and rare potential. To give just a glimpse of his abilities and to honor God, who "sometimes perfects his praises out of the mouths of babes and infants," let me share that he had learned all his catechism. By two and a half years old, he could read perfectly in English, Latin, French, and Gothic letters, pronouncing the first three languages flawlessly. Before or by the time he turned five, he could read most handwriting, decline all nouns, conjugate regular verbs, and many irregular ones; he memorized "Puerilis," almost the entire vocabulary of Latin and French foundational words, could create proper sentences, translate English to Latin and vice versa, construct and prove what he read, understand the use of relatives, verbs, nouns, ellipses, and various figures and tropes, and made significant progress in Comenius's "Janua." He even began to write legibly and had a strong interest in Greek. The number of verses he could recite was incredible, and he memorized parts of plays that he would act out. When he saw someone holding a book by Plautus and asked what it was, upon learning it was comedy and too challenging for him, he cried out of disappointment. It was remarkable how adeptly he applied fables and morals; he had read Æsop. He had a natural talent for mathematics, memorizing various Euclidean propositions that were shared with him during playtime, and he would draw lines and demonstrate them. As for his piety, his understanding of Scripture was astonishing, as he grasped the essence of God and had learned all his catechism at an early age. He had a remarkable comprehension of the historical parts of the Bible and New Testament, understanding how Christ came to redeem humanity, and recognizing that in grasping these crucial truths himself, his godfathers were released from their promise.
These and the like illuminations, far exceeding his age and experience, considering the prettiness of his address and behavior, cannot but leave impressions in me at the memory of him. When one told him how many days a Quaker had fasted, he replied that was no wonder; for[Pg 321] Christ had said that man should not live by bread alone, but by the Word of God. He would of himself select the most pathetic psalms, and chapters out of Job, to read to his maid during his sickness, telling her, when she pitied him, that all God's children must suffer affliction. He declaimed against the vanities of the world, before he had seen any. Often he would desire those who came to see him to pray by him, and a year before he fell sick, to kneel and pray with him alone in some corner. How thankfully would he receive admonition! how soon be reconciled! how indifferent, yet continually cheerful! He would give grave advice to his brother, John, bear with his impertinences, and say he was but a child. If he heard of or saw any new thing, he was unquiet till he was told how it was made; he brought to us all such difficulties as he found in books, to be expounded. He had learned by heart divers sentences in Latin and Greek, which, on occasion, he would produce even to wonder. He was all life, all prettiness, far from morose, sullen, or childish in anything he said or did. The last time he had been at church (which was at Greenwich), I asked him, according to custom, what he remembered of the sermon; two good things, Father, said he, bonum gratiæ and bonum gloriæ, with a just account of what the preacher said.
These and similar insights, far beyond his age and experience, along with his charming way of speaking and acting, definitely leave a lasting impression on me when I think of him. When someone told him how many days a Quaker had fasted, he replied that it was no surprise; for Christ said that man shouldn't live by bread alone, but by the Word of God. He would personally choose the most moving psalms and chapters from Job to read to his maid during her illness, telling her, when she felt sorry for him, that all of God's children must endure suffering. He preached against the emptiness of the world before he had even experienced it. He often asked visitors to pray with him, and a year before he got sick, he would kneel and pray with them alone in a corner. He welcomed advice with gratitude! He made up quickly after conflicts! He was calm, yet always cheerful! He offered serious advice to his brother, John, tolerating his annoying behavior, and would say he was just a child. If he heard about or saw something new, he couldn't rest until he found out how it was made; he brought us any questions he encountered in books to discuss. He had memorized various phrases in Latin and Greek, which he would share on occasion to everyone's amazement. He was full of energy and charm, far from being gloomy, sulky, or childish in anything he said or did. The last time he went to church (which was at Greenwich), I asked him, as usual, what he remembered from the sermon; "Two good things, Father," he said, bonum gratiæ and bonum gloriæ, along with a precise summary of what the preacher said.
The day before he died, he called to me: and in a more serious manner than usual, told me that for all I loved him so dearly I should give my house, land, and all my fine things to his brother Jack, he should have none of them; and, the next morning, when he found himself ill, and that I persuaded him to keep his hands in bed, he demanded whether he might pray to God with his hands unjoined; and a little after, while in great agony, whether he should not offend God by using his holy name so often calling for ease. What shall I say of his frequent pathetical ejaculations uttered of himself: "Sweet Jesus, save me, deliver me, pardon my sins, let thine angels receive me!" So early knowledge, so much piety and perfection! But thus God, having dressed up a saint fit for himself, would not longer permit him with us, unworthy of the future fruits of this incomparable hopeful blossom. Such a Child I never saw: for such a child I bless God, in whose bosom he is! May I and mine[Pg 322] become as this little child, who now follows the child Jesus that Lamb of God in a white robe, whithersoever he goes; even so, Lord Jesus, fiat voluntas tua! Thou gavest him to us, thou hast taken him from us, blessed be the name of the Lord! That I had anything acceptable to thee was from thy grace alone, seeing from me he had nothing but sin, but that thou hast pardoned! blessed be my God for ever, Amen.
The day before he passed away, he called for me and, more seriously than usual, told me that even though I loved him dearly, I should give my house, land, and all my possessions to his brother Jack, while he would have none of it. The next morning, when he realized he was ill and I urged him to keep his hands resting in bed, he asked if he could pray to God without putting his hands together. A little later, in great pain, he wondered if he was offending God by repeatedly calling on His holy name for relief. What can I say about his frequent heartfelt pleas: "Sweet Jesus, save me, deliver me, forgive my sins, let Your angels receive me!" Such early wisdom, such piety and perfection! But God, having prepared a saint fit for Himself, would no longer allow him to stay with us, unworthy of the future blessings from this remarkable and promising life. I have never seen such a child: for this child, I thank God, in whose arms he now rests! May I and my family [Pg 322] become like this little child, who now follows the child Jesus, the Lamb of God, in a white robe, wherever He goes; even so, Lord Jesus, fiat voluntas tua! You gave him to us, you have taken him from us, blessed be the name of the Lord! Everything I had that was acceptable to you was by your grace alone, since from me he had nothing but sin, but you have forgiven that! Blessed be my God forever, Amen.
In my opinion, he was suffocated by the women and maids that attended him, and covered him too hot with blankets as he lay in a cradle, near an excessive hot fire in a close room. I suffered him to be opened, when they found that he was what is vulgarly called liver-grown. I caused his body to be coffined in lead, and deposited on the 30th at eight o'clock that night in the church at Deptford, accompanied with divers of my relations and neighbors, among whom I distributed rings with this motto: "Dominus abstulit;" intending, God willing, to have him transported with my own body to be interred in our dormitory in Wotton Church, in my dear native county of Surrey, and to lay my bones and mingle my dust with my fathers, if God be gracious to me, and make me as fit for him as this blessed child was. The Lord Jesus sanctify this and all other my afflictions, Amen.
In my opinion, he was overwhelmed by the women and maids around him, who covered him too warmly with blankets as he lay in a cradle, next to an overly hot fire in a small room. I allowed him to be examined, and they discovered that he had what is commonly known as liver failure. I had his body placed in a lead coffin and buried on the 30th at eight o'clock that night in the church at Deptford, accompanied by several of my relatives and neighbors, among whom I handed out rings with this motto: "Dominus abstulit;" intending, God willing, to have him transported with my own body to be buried in our dormitory at Wotton Church, in my beloved native county of Surrey, and to lay my bones and mix my dust with my ancestors, if God is gracious to me and makes me as worthy of Him as this blessed child was. May the Lord Jesus sanctify this and all my other sufferings, Amen.
Here ends the joy of my life, and for which I go even mourning to the grave.
Here ends the joy of my life, and for this, I even mourn to the grave.
15th February, 1658. The afflicting hand of God being still upon us, it pleased him also to take away from us this morning my youngest son, George, now seven weeks languishing at nurse, breeding teeth, and ending in a dropsy. God's holy will be done! He was buried in Deptford Church, the 17th following.
15th February, 1658. The distressing hand of God is still upon us, and this morning He chose to take away my youngest son, George, who had been suffering for seven weeks with nurse care, teething, and ultimately succumbing to dropsy. May God's will be done! He was buried in Deptford Church on the 17th.
25th February, 1658. Came Dr. Jeremy Taylor, and my brothers, with other friends, to visit and condole with us.
25th February, 1658. Dr. Jeremy Taylor came by with my brothers and other friends to visit and express their condolences to us.
7th March, 1658. To London, to hear Dr. Taylor in a private house on Luke xiii. 23, 24. After the sermon, followed the blessed Communion, of which I participated. In the afternoon, Dr. Gunning, at Exeter House, expounding part of the Creed.
7th March, 1658. I went to London to hear Dr. Taylor speak in a private house on Luke xiii. 23, 24. After the sermon, we had the blessed Communion, which I took part in. In the afternoon, Dr. Gunning was at Exeter House, explaining part of the Creed.
This had been the severest winter that any man alive had known in England. The crows' feet were frozen to their prey. Islands of ice inclosed both fish and fowl frozen, and some persons in their boats.[Pg 323]
This was the harshest winter anyone had ever experienced in England. The crows' feet were frozen to their food. Islands of ice trapped both fish and birds, and some people in their boats.[Pg 323]
15th May, 1658, was a public fast, to avert an epidemical sickness, very mortal this spring.
15th May, 1658, was a public day of fasting to prevent a deadly epidemic that was affecting many people this spring.
20th May, 1658. I went to see a coach race in Hyde Park, and collationed in Spring Garden.
20th May, 1658. I went to watch a coach race in Hyde Park and had some refreshments in Spring Garden.
23d May, 1658. Dr. Manton, the famous Presbyterian, preached at Covent Garden, on Matthew vi. 10, showing what the kingdom of God was, how pray for it, etc.
23rd May, 1658. Dr. Manton, the well-known Presbyterian, preached at Covent Garden on Matthew 6:10, explaining what the kingdom of God is and how to pray for it, among other things.
There was now a collection for persecuted and sequestered Ministers of the Church of England, whereof divers are in prison. A sad day! The Church now in dens and caves of the earth.
There was now a collection for persecuted and isolated Ministers of the Church of England, many of whom are in prison. A sad day! The Church now in dens and caves of the earth.
31st May, 1658. I went to visit my Lady Peterborough, whose son, Mr. Mordaunt, prisoner in the Tower, was now on his trial, and acquitted but by one voice; but that holy martyr, Dr. Hewer, was condemned to die without law, jury, or justice, but by a mock Council of State, as they called it. A dangerous, treacherous time!
31st May, 1658. I went to visit Lady Peterborough, whose son, Mr. Mordaunt, was a prisoner in the Tower and was on trial, acquitted by only one vote; but that holy martyr, Dr. Hewer, was condemned to die without any law, jury, or justice, just by a mock Council of State, as they called it. A dangerous, treacherous time!
2d June, 1658. An extraordinary storm of hail and rain, the season as cold as winter, the wind northerly near six months.
2d June, 1658. An incredible storm of hail and rain, the season as cold as winter, the wind blowing from the north for almost six months.
3d June, 1658. A large whale was taken between my land abutting on the Thames and Greenwich, which drew an infinite concourse to see it, by water, horse, coach, and on foot, from London, and all parts. It appeared first below Greenwich at low water, for at high water it would have destroyed all the boats, but lying now in shallow water encompassed with boats, after a long conflict, it was killed with a harping iron, struck in the head, out of which spouted blood and water by two tunnels; and after a horrid groan, it ran quite on shore, and died. Its length was fifty-eight feet, height sixteen; black skinned, like coach leather; very small eyes, great tail, only two small fins, a peaked snout and a mouth so wide, that divers men might have stood upright in it; no teeth, but sucked the slime only as through a grate of that bone which we call whalebone; the throat yet so narrow, as would not have admitted the least of fishes. The extremes of the cetaceous bones hang downward from the upper jaw, and are hairy toward the ends and bottom within side: all of it prodigious; but in nothing more wonderful than that an animal of so great a bulk should be nourished only by slime through those grates.[Pg 324]
3rd June, 1658. A large whale was caught between my land along the Thames and Greenwich, which attracted a huge crowd to see it, arriving by water, on horseback, in carriages, and on foot, from London and surrounding areas. It first showed up below Greenwich at low tide; if it had appeared at high tide, it would have destroyed all the boats. But now, lying in shallow water surrounded by boats, after a long struggle, it was killed with a harpoon, struck in the head, from which spouted blood and water through two openings; and after a terrible groan, it ran ashore and died. It measured fifty-eight feet long and sixteen feet high; its skin was black like coach leather, with very small eyes, a large tail, only two small fins, a pointed snout, and a mouth so wide that several men could have stood upright in it; it had no teeth, but filtered slime through the grates of the bone we call whalebone; its throat was still so narrow that it wouldn't fit even the tiniest fish. The ends of the cetacean bones hung down from the upper jaw, and were hairy toward the ends and inside; all of it was extraordinary, but most astonishing was that such a massive creature was sustained only by slime through those grates.[Pg 324]
8th June, 1658. That excellent preacher and holy man, Dr. Hewer, was martyred for having intelligence with his Majesty, through the Lord Marquis of Ormond.
8th June, 1658. That great preacher and holy man, Dr. Hewer, was killed for communicating with his Majesty, via the Lord Marquis of Ormond.
9th June, 1658. I went to see the Earl of Northumberland's pictures, whereof that of the Venetian Senators was one of the best of Titian's and another of Andrea del Sarto, viz, a Madonna, Christ, St. John, and an Old Woman; a St. Catherine of Da Vinci, with divers portraits of Vandyck; a Nativity of Georgioni; the last of our blessed Kings (Charles I.), and the Duke of York, by Lely, a Rosary by the famous Jesuits of Brussels, and several more. This was in Suffolk House: the new front toward the gardens is tolerable, were it not drowned by a too massy and clumsy pair of stairs of stone, without any neat invention.
9th June, 1658. I went to check out the Earl of Northumberland's paintings, including one of the Venetian Senators, which is one of Titian's best works, and another by Andrea del Sarto, featuring a Madonna, Christ, St. John, and an Old Woman; a St. Catherine by Da Vinci, along with several portraits by Vandyck; a Nativity by Giorgione; the last portrait of our blessed King (Charles I.), and the Duke of York, by Lely; a Rosary by the famous Jesuits of Brussels, and several others. This was at Suffolk House: the new facade facing the gardens is decent, if only it weren't overshadowed by a heavy and awkward pair of stone stairs that lack any stylish design.
10th June, 1658. I went to see the Medical Garden at Westminster, well stored with plants, under Morgan, a very skillful botanist.
10th June, 1658. I went to check out the Medical Garden at Westminster, which is filled with plants, managed by Morgan, a very skilled botanist.
26th June, 1658. To Eltham, to visit honest Mr. Owen.
26th June, 1658. To Eltham, to visit trustworthy Mr. Owen.
3d July, 1658. To London, and dined with Mr. Henshaw, Mr. Dorell, and Mr. Ashmole, founder of the Oxford repository of rarities, with divers doctors of physic and virtuosos.
3rd July, 1658. Went to London and had dinner with Mr. Henshaw, Mr. Dorell, and Mr. Ashmole, the founder of the Oxford repository of rarities, along with several doctors and collectors.
15th July, 1658. Came to see my Lord Kilmurry and Lady, Sir Robert Needham, Mr. Offley, and two daughters of my Lord Willoughby, of Parham.
15th July, 1658. Visited my Lord Kilmurry and Lady, Sir Robert Needham, Mr. Offley, and two daughters of my Lord Willoughby, of Parham.
3d August, 1658. Went to Sir John Evelyn at Godstone. The place is excellent, but might be improved by turning some offices of the house, and removing the garden. The house being a noble fabric, though not comparable to what was first built by my uncle, who was master of all the powder mills.
3rd August, 1658. Visited Sir John Evelyn at Godstone. The location is great, but it could be better if some parts of the house were rearranged and the garden moved. The house is impressive, although it doesn't compare to what my uncle originally built, who was in charge of all the powder mills.
5th August, 1658. We went to Squirries to visit my Cousin Leech, daughter to Sir John; a pretty, finely wooded, well watered seat, the stables good, the house old, but convenient. 6th. Returned to Wotton.
5th August, 1658. We went to Squirries to visit my cousin Leech, daughter of Sir John; a beautiful place with lovely woods, plenty of water, decent stables, and an old but comfortable house. 6th. Returned to Wotton.
10th August, 1658. I dined at Mr. Carew Raleigh's, at Horsley, son to the famous Sir Walter.
10th August, 1658. I had dinner at Mr. Carew Raleigh's place in Horsley, the son of the famous Sir Walter.
14th August, 1658. We went to Durdans [at Epsom] to a challenged match at bowls for £10, which we won.
14th August, 1658. We went to Durdans [at Epsom] for a challenge match at bowls for £10, which we won.
18th August, 1658. To Sir Ambrose Browne, at Betchworth Castle, in that tempestuous wind which threw down my greatest trees at Sayes Court, and did so much mis[Pg 325]chief all over England. It continued the whole night; and, till three in the afternoon of the next day, in the southwest, and destroyed all our winter fruit.
18th August, 1658. To Sir Ambrose Browne, at Betchworth Castle, in that wild wind that knocked down my biggest trees at Sayes Court and caused so much damage all over England. It lasted all night and until three in the afternoon the next day, coming from the southwest, and wrecked all our winter fruit.
3d September, 1658. Died that arch-rebel, Oliver Cromwell, called Protector.
3rd September, 1658. Died that arch-rebel, Oliver Cromwell, known as the Protector.
16th September, 1658. Was published my translation of St. Chrysostom on "Education of Children," which I dedicated to both my brothers to comfort them on the loss of their children.
16th September, 1658. I published my translation of St. Chrysostom's "Education of Children," which I dedicated to both my brothers to comfort them after the loss of their children.
21st September, 1658. My Lord Berkeley, of Berkeley Castle, invited me to dinner.
21st September, 1658. My Lord Berkeley, from Berkeley Castle, invited me to dinner.
26th September, 1658. Mr. King preached at Ashted, on Proverbs xv. 24; a Quaker would have disputed with him. In the afternoon, we heard Dr. Hacket (since Bishop of Litchfield) at Cheam, where the family of the Lumleys lie buried.
26th September, 1658. Mr. King preached at Ashted, on Proverbs xv. 24; a Quaker would have argued with him. In the afternoon, we listened to Dr. Hacket (who later became Bishop of Litchfield) at Cheam, where the Lumley family is buried.
27th September, 1658. To Beddington, that ancient seat of the Carews, a fine old hall, but a scambling house, famous for the first orange garden in England, being now overgrown trees, planted in the ground, and secured in winter with a wooden tabernacle and stoves. This seat is rarely watered, lying low, and environed with good pastures. The pomegranates bear here. To the house is also added a fine park. Thence, to Carshalton, excellently watered, and capable of being made a most delicious seat, being on the sweet downs, and a champaign about it full planted with walnut and cherry trees, which afford a considerable rent.
27th September, 1658. To Beddington, the historic home of the Carews, a beautiful old hall, but a bit of a jumble, known for having the first orange garden in England, which is now overrun with trees, planted in the ground, and kept safe in winter with a wooden shelter and stoves. This place rarely gets watered, sitting low and surrounded by good pastures. The pomegranates thrive here. There’s also a lovely park attached to the house. From there, to Carshalton, which is well-watered and could be turned into a truly delightful home, located on the gentle downs and surrounded by a landscape filled with walnut and cherry trees, providing a decent income.
Riding over these downs, and discoursing with the shepherds, I found that digging about the bottom near Sir Christopher Buckle's,59 near Banstead, divers medals have been found, both copper and silver, with foundations of houses, urns, etc. Here, indeed, anciently stood a city of the Romans. See Antonine's "Itineraries."
Riding over these hills and chatting with the shepherds, I discovered that digging near Sir Christopher Buckle's,59 near Banstead has revealed various medals, both copper and silver, along with the foundations of houses, urns, and more. This was once the site of an ancient Roman city. Check Antonine's "Itineraries."
29th September, 1658. I returned home, after a ten weeks' absence.
29th September, 1658. I came back home after being away for ten weeks.
2d October, 1658. I went to London, to receive the Holy Sacrament.
2nd October, 1658. I went to London to receive the Holy Sacrament.
On the 3d, Dr. Wild preached in a private place on[Pg 326] Isaiah i. 4, showing the parallel between the sins of Israel and those of England. In the afternoon, Mr. Hall (son to Joseph, Bishop of Norwich) on 1 Cor. vi. 2, of the dignity of the Saints; a most excellent discourse.
On the 3rd, Dr. Wild preached in a private place on[Pg 326] Isaiah 1:4, highlighting the similarities between the sins of Israel and those of England. In the afternoon, Mr. Hall (son of Joseph, Bishop of Norwich) spoke on 1 Corinthians 6:2, discussing the dignity of the Saints; it was a truly excellent talk.
4th October, 1658. I dined with the Holland ambassador, at Derby House: returning, I diverted to see a very WHITE RAVEN, bred in Cumberland; also a porcupine, of that kind that shoots its quills, of which see Claudian; it was headed like a rat, the fore feet like a badger, the hind feet like a bear.
4th October, 1658. I had dinner with the Holland ambassador at Derby House. On my way back, I stopped to see a very White Raven from Cumberland, as well as a porcupine of the kind that shoots its quills, as mentioned by Claudian. It had a head like a rat, front feet like a badger, and back feet like a bear.
19th October, 1658. I was summoned to London, by the commissioners for new buildings; afterward, to the commission of sewers; but because there was an oath to be taken of fidelity to the Government as now constituted without a king, I got to be excused, and returned home.
19th October, 1658. I was called to London by the commissioners for new buildings; later, I was summoned by the commission of sewers. However, since there was an oath to uphold loyalty to the Government as it currently was, without a king, I was able to get excused and went back home.
22d October, 1658. Saw the superb funeral of the protector. He was carried from Somerset House in a velvet bed of state, drawn by six horses, housed with the same; the pall held by his new lords; Oliver lying in effigy, in royal robes, and crowned with a crown, sceptre, and globe, like a king. The pendants and guidons were carried by the officers of the army; the imperial banners, achievements, etc., by the heralds in their coats; a rich caparisoned horse, embroidered all over with gold; a knight of honor, armed cap-a-pie, and, after all, his guards, soldiers, and innumerable mourners. In this equipage, they proceeded to Westminster: but it was the most joyful funeral I ever saw; for there were none that cried but dogs, which the soldiers hooted away with a barbarous noise, drinking and taking tobacco in the streets as they went.
22nd October, 1658. I witnessed the grand funeral of the protector. He was transported from Somerset House on a velvet bed of state, pulled by six horses, similarly adorned; the pall was held by his new lords; Oliver lay in effigy, dressed in royal robes and crowned with a crown, sceptre, and globe, resembling a king. The pendants and guidons were carried by army officers; the imperial banners and symbols, etc., were carried by the heralds in their coats; a richly adorned horse, covered in gold embroidery; a knight of honor, fully armored, and, besides all this, his guards, soldiers, and countless mourners. In this procession, they made their way to Westminster: but it was the most cheerful funeral I ever attended; for the only ones who cried were dogs, which the soldiers chased away with rude shouts, drinking and smoking in the streets as they passed.
I returned not home till the 17th of November.
I didn't get home until November 17th.
6th December, 1658. Now was published my "French Gardener," the first and best of the kind that introduced the use of the olitory garden to any purpose.
6th December, 1658. Now my "French Gardener" has been published, the first and best of its kind that introduced the concept of the vegetable garden for practical use.
23d December, 1658. I went with my wife to keep Christmas at my cousin, George Tuke's, at Cressing Temple, in Essex. Lay that night at Brentwood.
23rd December, 1658. I went with my wife to celebrate Christmas at my cousin George Tuke's place in Cressing Temple, Essex. We stayed the night in Brentwood.
25th December, 1658. Here was no public service, but what we privately used. I blessed God for his mercies[Pg 327] the year past; and 1st of January, begged a continuance of them. Thus, for three Sundays, by reason of the incumbent's death, here was neither praying nor preaching, though there was a chapel in the house.
25th December, 1658. There was no public service, but we practiced our own privately. I thanked God for His blessings over the past year[Pg 327] and on the 1st of January, asked for more of the same. Therefore, for three Sundays, due to the incumbent's death, there was neither prayer nor preaching, even though there was a chapel in the house.
17th January, 1659. Our old vicar preached, taking leave of the parish in a pathetical speech, to go to a living in the city.
17th January, 1659. Our old vicar preached, saying goodbye to the parish in an emotional speech, as he was leaving for a position in the city.
24th March, 1659. I went to London, to speak to the patron, Alderman Cuttler, about presenting a fit pastor for our destitute parish church.
24th March, 1659. I went to London to talk to the patron, Alderman Cuttler, about finding a suitable pastor for our struggling parish church.
5th April, 1659. Came the Earl of Northampton and the famous painter, Mr. Wright, to visit me.
5th April, 1659. The Earl of Northampton and the well-known painter, Mr. Wright, came to visit me.
10th April, 1659. One Mr. Littler, being now presented to the living of our parish, preached on John vi. 55, a sermon preparatory to the Holy Sacrament.
10th April, 1659. Mr. Littler, now introduced to our parish, preached on John 6:55, giving a sermon in preparation for the Holy Communion.
25th April, 1659. A wonderful and sudden change in the face of the public; the new protector, Richard, slighted; several pretenders and parties strive for the government: all anarchy and confusion; Lord have mercy on us!
25th April, 1659. A remarkable and sudden shift in the public’s mood; the new protector, Richard, is overlooked; several claimants and factions are vying for control: it’s total anarchy and chaos; Lord have mercy on us!
5th May, 1659. I went to visit my brother in London; and next day, to see a new opera, after the Italian way, in recitative music and scenes, much inferior to the Italian composure and magnificence; but it was prodigious that in a time of such public consternation such a vanity should be kept up, or permitted. I, being engaged with company, could not decently resist the going to see it, though my heart smote me for it.
5th May, 1659. I went to visit my brother in London; and the next day, I attended a new opera, in the Italian style, featuring recitative music and scenes, which was far less impressive than Italian productions in terms of composition and grandeur. It was astonishing that during such a time of public distress, this frivolity was still being upheld or allowed. I, being with company, couldn’t politely refuse to go see it, even though I felt guilty for doing so.
7th May, 1659. Came the Ambassador of Holland and his lady to visit me, and stayed the whole afternoon.
7th May, 1659. The Ambassador of Holland and his wife came to visit me and stayed the whole afternoon.
12th May, 1659. I returned the visit, discoursing much of the revolutions, etc.
12th May, 1659. I returned the visit, talking a lot about the changes and so on.
19th May, 1659. Came to dine with me my Lord Galloway and his son, a Scotch Lord and learned: also my brother and his lady, Lord Berkeley and his lady, Mrs. Shirley, and the famous singer, Mrs. Knight,60 and other friends.
19th May, 1659. My Lord Galloway and his son, a Scottish lord and learned man, came to have dinner with me; also my brother and his wife, Lord Berkeley and his wife, Mrs. Shirley, and the famous singer, Mrs. Knight,60 and other friends.
23d May, 1659. I went to Rookwood, and dined with Sir William Hicks, where was a great feast and much company. It is a melancholy old house, environed with trees and rooks.
23rd May, 1659. I went to Rookwood and had dinner with Sir William Hicks, where there was a big feast and a lot of people. It’s a gloomy old house surrounded by trees and rooks.
26th May, 1659. Came to see me my Lord George[Pg 328] Berkeley, Sir William Ducie, and Sir George Pott's son of Norfolk.
26th May, 1659. My Lord George[Pg 328] Berkeley, Sir William Ducie, and Sir George Pott's son from Norfolk came to see me.
29th May, 1659. The nation was now in extreme confusion and unsettled, between the Armies and the Sectaries, the poor Church of England breathing as it were her last; so sad a face of things had overspread us.
29th May, 1659. The nation was in complete chaos and turmoil, caught between the armies and the sects, the poor Church of England seemed to be at its last breath; such a bleak situation had taken over us.
7th June, 1659. To London, to take leave of my brother, and see the foundations now laying for a long street and buildings in Hatton Garden, designed for a little town, lately an ample garden.
7th June, 1659. To London, to say goodbye to my brother and check out the foundations being laid for a long street and buildings in Hatton Garden, planned for a small town, which was recently a large garden.
1st September, 1659. I communicated to Mr. Robert Boyle, son to the Earl of Cork, my proposal for erecting a philosophic and mathematic college.
1st September, 1659. I shared with Mr. Robert Boyle, son of the Earl of Cork, my idea for establishing a college focused on philosophy and mathematics.
15th September, 1659. Came to see me Mr. Brereton,61 a very learned gentleman, son to my Lord Brereton, with his and divers other ladies. Also, Henry Howard of Norfolk, since Duke of Norfolk.
15th September, 1659. Mr. Brereton,61 a very knowledgeable man, son of my Lord Brereton, visited me along with several other ladies. Also present was Henry Howard of Norfolk, who later became the Duke of Norfolk.
30th September, 1659. I went to visit Sir William Ducie and Colonel Blount, where I met Sir Henry Blount, the famous traveler and water drinker.
30th September, 1659. I went to visit Sir William Ducie and Colonel Blount, where I met Sir Henry Blount, the well-known traveler and teetotaler.
10th October, 1659. I came with my wife and family to London: took lodgings at the Three Feathers, in Russell Street, Covent Garden, for the winter, my son being very unwell.
10th October, 1659. I arrived in London with my wife and family, and we took a place to stay at the Three Feathers on Russell Street in Covent Garden for the winter, as my son was quite ill.
11th October, 1659. Came to visit me Mr. William Coventry (since secretary to the Duke), son to the Lord Keeper, a wise and witty gentleman.
11th October, 1659. Mr. William Coventry (now the secretary to the Duke) came to visit me. He is the son of the Lord Keeper and a clever and charming gentleman.
The Army now turned out the Parliament. We had now no government in the nation: all in confusion; no magistrate either owned or pretended; but the soldiers, and they not agreed. God Almighty have mercy on us, and settle us!
The Army has now expelled Parliament. We have no government in the nation; everything is in chaos; no official is willing to take charge or even pretend to. The soldiers are in disagreement. May God help us and bring order!
17th October, 1659. I visited Mr. Howard, at Arundel House, who gave me a fair onyx set in gold, and showed me his design of a palace there.
17th October, 1659. I visited Mr. Howard at Arundel House, who gave me a nice onyx set in gold and showed me his design for a palace there.
21st October, 1659. A private fast was kept by the Church of England Protestants in town, to beg of God the removal of his judgments, with devout prayers for his mercy to our calamitous Church.
21st October, 1659. The Church of England Protestants in town held a private fast to ask God to lift his judgments, offering earnest prayers for his mercy on our troubled Church.
7th November, 1659. Was published my bold "Apology[Pg 329] for the King" in this time of danger, when it was capital to speak or write in favor of him. It was twice printed; so universally it took.
7th November, 1659. I published my daring "Apology[Pg 329] for the King" during this perilous time when it was dangerous to speak or write in his favor. It was printed twice; it gained such widespread acceptance.
9th November, 1659. We observed our solemn Fast for the calamity of our Church.
9th November, 1659. We observed our solemn fast for the suffering of our Church.
12th November, 1659. I went to see the several drugs for the confection of treacle, dioscordium, and other electuaries, which an ingenious apothecary had not only prepared and ranged on a large and very long table, but covered every ingredient with a sheet of paper, on which was very lively painted the thing in miniature, well to the life, were it plant, flower, animal, or other exotic drug.
12th November, 1659. I went to check out the different drugs for making treacle, dioscordium, and other remedies. An inventive apothecary had not only organized them on a long table but also covered each ingredient with a sheet of paper, which had a vibrant miniature painting of the item—whether it was a plant, flower, animal, or some other exotic drug—accurately depicted.
15th November, 1659. Dined with the Dutch Ambassador. He did in a manner acknowledge that his nation mind only their own profit, do nothing out of gratitude, but collaterally as it relates to their gain, or security; and therefore the English were to look for nothing of assistance to the banished King. This was to me no very grateful discourse, though an ingenuous confession.
15th November, 1659. Had dinner with the Dutch Ambassador. He somewhat admitted that his country only looks out for its own interests, does nothing out of gratitude, but instead acts based on what benefits them or keeps them secure; therefore, the English shouldn't expect any help for the exiled King. This wasn't very pleasant to hear, even though it was an honest admission.
18th November, 1659. Mr. Gunning celebrated the wonted Fast, and preached on Phil. ii. 12, 13.
18th November, 1659. Mr. Gunning observed the usual Fast and preached on Philippians 2:12, 13.
24th November, 1659. Sir John Evelyn [of Godstone] invited us to the forty-first wedding-day feast, where was much company of friends.
24th November, 1659. Sir John Evelyn [of Godstone] invited us to the 41st wedding anniversary celebration, which had many friends in attendance.
26th November, 1659. I was introduced into the acquaintance of divers learned and worthy persons, Sir John Marsham, Mr. Dugdale, Mr. Stanley, and others.
26th November, 1659. I was introduced to several learned and respectable individuals, Sir John Marsham, Mr. Dugdale, Mr. Stanley, and others.
9th December, 1659. I supped with Mr. Gunning, it being our fast day, Dr. Fearne, Mr. Thrisco, Mr. Chamberlain, Dr. Henchman, Dr. Wild, and other devout and learned divines, firm confessors, and excellent persons. Note: Most of them since made bishops.
9th December, 1659. I had dinner with Mr. Gunning on our fasting day, along with Dr. Fearne, Mr. Thrisco, Mr. Chamberlain, Dr. Henchman, Dr. Wild, and other devout and knowledgeable clergy, strong believers, and outstanding individuals. Note: Most of them have since become bishops.
10th December, 1659. I treated privately with Colonel Morley, then Lieutenant of the Tower, and in great trust and power, concerning delivering it to the King, and the bringing of him in, to the great hazard of my life, but the Colonel had been my schoolfellow, and I knew would not betray me.
10th December, 1659. I had a private conversation with Colonel Morley, who was then the Lieutenant of the Tower and held a lot of trust and power, about handing it over to the King and bringing him in, which put my life in serious danger. However, the Colonel was my old schoolmate, and I was confident he wouldn’t betray me.
12th December, 1659. I spent in public concerns for his Majesty, pursuing the point to bring over Colonel Morley, and his brother-in-law, Fay, Governor of Portsmouth.[Pg 330]
12th December, 1659. I was busy with public matters for his Majesty, working to secure the support of Colonel Morley and his brother-in-law, Fay, the Governor of Portsmouth.[Pg 330]
18th December, 1659. Preached that famous divine, Dr. Sanderson (since Bishop of Lincoln), now eighty years old, on Jer. xxx. 13, concerning the evil of forsaking God.
18th December, 1659. Preached by the renowned divine, Dr. Sanderson (who later became Bishop of Lincoln), now eighty years old, on Jer. xxx. 13, about the sin of abandoning God.
29th December, 1659. Came my Lord Count Arundel, of Wardour, to visit me. I went also to see my Lord Viscount Montague.
29th December, 1659. My Lord Count Arundel of Wardour came to visit me. I also went to see my Lord Viscount Montague.
31st December, 1659. Settling my domestic affairs in order, blessed God for his infinite mercies and preservations the past year.
31st December, 1659. I organized my home affairs and thanked God for His endless blessings and protection over the past year.
Annus Mirabilis, January 1st, 1659-60. Begging God's blessings for the following year, I went to Exeter Chapel, when Mr. Gunning began the year on Galatians iv. 3-7, showing the love of Christ in shedding his blood so early for us.
Amazing Year, January 1st, 1659-60. Asking for God’s blessings for the coming year, I went to Exeter Chapel, where Mr. Gunning started the year by preaching on Galatians iv. 3-7, highlighting Christ's love in shedding his blood so early for us.
12th January, 1660. Wrote to Colonel Morley again to declare for his Majesty.
12th January, 1660. Wrote to Colonel Morley again to support his Majesty.
22d January, 1660. I went this afternoon to visit Colonel Morley. After dinner I discoursed with him; but he was very jealous, and would not believe that Monk came in to do the King any service; I told him that he might do it without him, and have all the honor. He was still doubtful, and would resolve on nothing yet, so I took leave.
22nd January, 1660. I went this afternoon to visit Colonel Morley. After dinner, I talked with him; but he was very jealous and wouldn’t believe that Monk came to serve the King. I told him that he could do it without Monk and take all the credit. He was still unsure and wouldn’t decide on anything yet, so I said goodbye.
3d February, 1660. Kept the Fast. General Monk came now to London out of Scotland; but no man knew what he would do or declare; yet he was met on his way by the gentlemen of all the counties which he passed with petitions that he would recall the old long-interrupted Parliament, and settle the nation in some order, being at this time in most prodigious confusion, and under no government, everybody expecting what would be next and what he would do.
3rd February, 1660. Observed the Fast. General Monk arrived in London from Scotland; however, no one knew what his intentions were or what he would proclaim. He was greeted along his route by gentlemen from the counties he passed, presenting petitions for him to restore the old, long-disrupted Parliament and bring some order back to the nation, which was in a state of extreme chaos and lacked any government. Everyone was anxiously waiting to see what would happen next and what he would decide.
10th February, 1660. Now were the gates of the city broken down by General Monk; which exceedingly exasperated the city, the soldiers marching up and down as triumphing over it, and all the old army of the fanatics put out of their posts and sent out of town.
10th February, 1660. The city's gates were now broken down by General Monk, which really angered the citizens. The soldiers marched around as if they were victorious, and all the old army of the fanatics were removed from their positions and sent out of town.
11th February, 1660. A signal day. Monk, perceiving how infamous and wretched a pack of knaves would have still usurped the supreme power, and having intelligence that they intended to take away his commission, repenting of what he had done to the city, and where he and[Pg 331] his forces were quartered, marches to Whitehall, dissipates that nest of robbers, and convenes the old Parliament, the Rump Parliament (so called as retaining some few rotten members of the other) being dissolved; and for joy whereof were many thousands of rumps roasted publicly in the streets at the bonfires this night, with ringing of bells, and universal jubilee. This was the first good omen.
11th February, 1660. A significant day. Monk, realizing how disgraceful and miserable a group of rogues would still steal the highest power, and having learned that they planned to strip him of his commission, regretting what he had done to the city, where he and his troops were stationed, marches to Whitehall, breaks up that den of thieves, and brings together the old Parliament, with the Rump Parliament (named for keeping a few corrupt members of the other) being dissolved; in celebration, thousands of rumps were roasted publicly in the streets at the bonfires that night, along with the ringing of bells and a widespread jubilee. This was the first good sign.
From 17th February to 5th April, I was detained in bed with a kind of double tertian, the cruel effects of the spleen and other distempers, in that extremity that my physicians, Drs. Wetherborn, Needham, and Claude, were in great doubt of my recovery; but it pleased God to deliver me out of this affliction, for which I render him hearty thanks: going to church the 8th, and receiving the blessed eucharist.
From February 17 to April 5, I was stuck in bed with a type of double tertian fever, suffering from the harsh effects of my spleen and other ailments. My doctors, Drs. Wetherborn, Needham, and Claude, were very worried about whether I would recover; but thankfully, God saw fit to free me from this suffering, for which I am truly grateful. I went to church on the 8th and received the blessed Eucharist.
During this sickness came divers of my relations and friends to visit me, and it retarded my going into the country longer than I intended; however, I wrote and printed a letter in defense of his Majesty,62 against a wicked forged paper, pretended to be sent from Brussels to defame his Majesty's person and virtues and render him odious, now when everybody was in hope and expectation of the General and Parliament recalling him, and establishing the Government on its ancient and right basis. The doing this toward the decline of my sickness, and sitting up long in my bed, had caused a small relapse, out of which it yet pleased God also to free me, so as by the 14th I was able to go into the country, which I did to my sweet and native air at Wotton.
During my illness, several of my relatives and friends came to visit me, which delayed my trip to the countryside longer than I had planned. Still, I wrote and published a letter defending His Majesty,62 against a malicious forged document that was supposedly sent from Brussels to slander His Majesty's character and virtues, making him seem despicable, just as everyone was hopeful that the General and Parliament would reinstate him and return the government to its rightful order. Writing this towards the end of my illness and spending long hours sitting up in bed caused a slight relapse, but thankfully, God helped me recover, and by the 14th, I was able to head to the countryside, which I did, breathing in the sweet and familiar air of Wotton.
3d May, 1660. Came the most happy tidings of his Majesty's gracious declaration and applications to the Parliament, General, and people, and their dutiful acceptance and acknowledgment, after a most bloody and unreasonable rebellion of near twenty years. Praised be forever the Lord of Heaven, who only doeth wondrous things, because his mercy endureth forever.
3rd May, 1660. We received the wonderful news of his Majesty's gracious declaration and outreach to Parliament, the military, and the people, and their loyal acceptance and acknowledgment, following nearly twenty years of a violent and unjust rebellion. Praise forever be to the Lord of Heaven, who alone does amazing things, because his mercy lasts forever.
8th May, 1660. This day was his Majesty proclaimed in London, etc.[Pg 332]
8th May, 1660. Today, His Majesty was proclaimed in London, etc.[Pg 332]
9th May, 1660. I was desired and designed to accompany my Lord Berkeley with the public address of the Parliament, General, etc., to the King, and invite him to come over and assume his Kingly Government, he being now at Breda; but I was yet so weak, I could not make that journey by sea, which was not a little to my detriment, so I went to London to excuse myself, returning the 10th, having yet received a gracious message from his Majesty by Major Scot and Colonel Tuke.
9th May, 1660. I was asked to join my Lord Berkeley to deliver the Parliament's public address, inviting the King to come over and take up his royal duties since he was in Breda. However, I was still so weak that I couldn't make the sea journey, which was quite a setback for me, so I went to London to explain my situation. I returned on the 10th, having received a gracious message from His Majesty via Major Scot and Colonel Tuke.
24th May, 1660. Came to me Colonel Morley, about procuring his pardon, now too late, seeing his error and neglect of the counsel I gave him, by which, if he had taken it he had certainly done the great work with the same ease that Monk did it, who was then in Scotland, and Morley in a post to have done what he pleased, but his jealousy and fear kept him from that blessing and honor. I addressed him to Lord Mordaunt, then in great favor, for his pardon, which he obtained at the cost of £1,000, as I heard. Oh, the sottish omission of this gentleman! what did I not undergo of danger in this negotiation, to have brought him over to his Majesty's interest, when it was entirely in his hands!
24th May, 1660. Colonel Morley came to me about getting his pardon, but it was too late. He realized his mistake and ignored my advice, which, if he had followed, would have made his task as easy as it was for Monk, who was then in Scotland. Morley had the opportunity to do what he wanted, but his jealousy and fear prevented him from seizing that blessing and honor. I referred him to Lord Mordaunt, who was then in high favor, for his pardon, which he got for the price of £1,000, as I heard. Oh, the foolish neglect of this man! What risks did I not face during this negotiation to bring him over to the King's side when it was entirely within his grasp!
29th May, 1660. This day, his Majesty, Charles II. came to London, after a sad and long exile and calamitous suffering both of the King and Church, being seventeen years. This was also his birthday, and with a triumph of above 20,000 horse and foot, brandishing their swords, and shouting with inexpressible joy; the ways strewn with flowers, the bells ringing, the streets hung with tapestry, fountains running with wine; the Mayor, Aldermen, and all the companies, in their liveries, chains of gold, and banners; Lords and Nobles, clad in cloth of silver, gold, and velvet; the windows and balconies, all set with ladies; trumpets, music, and myriads of people flocking, even so far as from Rochester, so as they were seven hours in passing the city, even from two in the afternoon till nine at night.
29th May, 1660. Today, His Majesty, Charles II, arrived in London after a long and unfortunate exile that lasted seventeen years, causing great suffering for both the King and the Church. This was also his birthday, celebrated with a triumph involving over 20,000 soldiers, waving their swords and shouting with immense joy. The streets were covered in flowers, church bells rang, and the streets were decorated with tapestries. The Mayor, Aldermen, and all the guilds wore their formal attire, adorned with gold chains and banners. Lords and nobles were dressed in silver, gold, and velvet. Windows and balconies were filled with ladies. There were trumpets, music, and countless people gathered, even coming from as far as Rochester. It took them seven hours to pass through the city, from two in the afternoon until nine at night.
I stood in the Strand and beheld it, and blessed God. And all this was done without one drop of blood shed, and by that very army which rebelled against him: but it was the Lord's doing, for such a restoration was never mentioned in any history, ancient or modern, since the return of the Jews from their Babylonish captivity; nor[Pg 333] so joyful a day and so bright ever seen in this nation, this happening when to expect or effect it was past all human policy.
I stood on the Strand and looked at it, feeling grateful to God. All this happened without a single drop of blood being shed, and by the very army that had rebelled against Him: but it was the Lord's doing, because such a restoration has never been recorded in any history, ancient or modern, since the Jews returned from their captivity in Babylon; nor[Pg 333] has there ever been a day as joyful and bright as this in our nation, especially considering that expecting or causing it was beyond all human strategy.
4th June, 1660. I received letters of Sir Richard Browne's landing at Dover, and also letters from the Queen, which I was to deliver at Whitehall, not as yet presenting myself to his Majesty, by reason of the infinite concourse of people. The eagerness of men, women, and children, to see his Majesty, and kiss his hands, was so great, that he had scarce leisure to eat for some days, coming as they did from all parts of the nation; and the King being as willing to give them that satisfaction, would have none kept out, but gave free access to all sorts of people.
4th June, 1660. I received news that Sir Richard Browne had arrived in Dover, along with letters from the Queen that I was supposed to deliver at Whitehall. I hadn’t presented myself to the King yet due to the huge crowd of people. The excitement among men, women, and children to see the King and kiss his hands was so intense that he hardly had time to eat for a few days, as they came from all over the country. The King, eager to please them, refused to exclude anyone and allowed everyone to approach him.
Addressing myself to the Duke, I was carried to his Majesty, when very few noblemen were with him, and kissed his hands, being very graciously received. I then returned home, to meet Sir Richard Browne, who came not till the 8th, after nineteen years exile, during all which time he kept up in his chapel the Liturgy and Offices of the Church of England, to his no small honor, and in a time when it was so low, and as many thought utterly lost, that in various controversies both with Papists and Sectaries, our divines used to argue for the visibility of the Church, from his chapel and congregation.
I approached the Duke and was taken to see His Majesty, with very few noblemen around. I kissed his hands, and he received me graciously. After that, I went back home and met Sir Richard Browne, who returned on the 8th after nineteen years in exile. Throughout that time, he maintained the Liturgy and Offices of the Church of England in his chapel, to his great credit, especially during a period when the Church seemed to be at a low point and many believed it was completely lost. In various debates with Catholics and other sects, our theologians often used his chapel and congregation as evidence of the Church's existence.
I was all this week to and fro at court about business.
I’ve been going back and forth at court all week about business.
16th June, 1660. The French, Italian, and Dutch Ministers came to make their address to his Majesty, one Monsieur Stoope pronouncing the harangue with great eloquence.
16th June, 1660. The French, Italian, and Dutch Ministers came to speak to his Majesty, with a Monsieur Stoope delivering the speech very eloquently.
18th June, 1660. I proposed the embassy to Constantinople for Mr. Henshaw; but my Lord Winchelsea struck in.
18th June, 1660. I proposed the embassy to Constantinople for Mr. Henshaw; but my Lord Winchelsea intervened.
Goods that had been pillaged from Whitehall during the Rebellion were now daily brought in, and restored upon proclamation; as plate, hangings, pictures, etc.
Goods that had been looted from Whitehall during the Rebellion were now being brought in daily and returned as announced; including silverware, tapestries, paintings, and so on.
22d June, 1660. The Warwickshire gentlemen (as did all the shires and chief towns in all the three nations) presented their congratulatory address. It was carried by my Lord Northampton.
22nd June, 1660. The gentlemen from Warwickshire (just like those from all the counties and major towns across all three nations) presented their congratulatory message. It was delivered by my Lord Northampton.
30th June, 1660. The Sussex gentlemen presented their address, to which was my hand. I went with it, and kissed his Majesty's hand, who was pleased to own me[Pg 334] more particularly by calling me his old acquaintance, and speaking very graciously to me.
30th June, 1660. The gentlemen from Sussex presented their address, which I signed. I went along with it and kissed the King’s hand, who was kind enough to acknowledge me more specifically by referring to me as his old acquaintance and speaking very kindly to me.[Pg 334]
3d July, 1660. I went to Hyde Park, where was his Majesty, and abundance of gallantry.
3rd July, 1660. I went to Hyde Park, where His Majesty was and there was a lot of elegance.
4th July, 1660. I heard Sir Samuel Tuke harangue to the House of Lords, in behalf of the Roman Catholics, and his account of the transaction at Colchester in murdering Lord Capel, and the rest of those brave men, that suffered in cold blood, after articles of rendition.
4th July, 1660. I listened to Sir Samuel Tuke speak to the House of Lords on behalf of the Roman Catholics, and he recounted the events at Colchester where Lord Capel and the other brave men were killed in cold blood, despite having surrendered.
5th July, 1660. I saw his Majesty go with as much pomp and splendor as any earthly prince could do to the great city feast, the first they had invited him to since his return; but the exceeding rain which fell all that day much eclipsed its lustres. This was at Guildhall, and there was also all the Parliament men, both Lords and Commons. The streets were adorned with pageants, at immense cost.
5th July, 1660. I saw the King go with as much pomp and splendor as any earthly prince could for the grand city feast, the first one they had invited him to since his return; but the heavy rain that fell all day really dampened the mood. This was at Guildhall, and all the members of Parliament were there, both Lords and Commons. The streets were decorated with elaborate displays, at a huge cost.
6th July, 1660. His Majesty began first to TOUCH FOR THE EVIL! according to custom, thus: his Majesty sitting under his state in the banqueting house, the chirurgeons cause the sick to be brought, or led, up to the throne, where they kneeling, the King strokes their faces, or cheeks with both his hands at once, at which instant a chaplain in his formalities says, "He put his hands upon them, and he healed them." This is said to every one in particular. When they have all been touched, they come up again in the same order, and the other chaplain kneeling, and having angel gold63 strung on white ribbon on his arm, delivers them one by one to his Majesty, who puts them about the necks of the touched as they pass, while the first chaplain repeats, "That is the true light who came into the world." Then follows, an Epistle (as at first a Gospel) with the Liturgy, prayers for the sick, with some alteration; lastly the blessing; and then the Lord Chamberlain and the Comptroller of the Household bring a basin, ewer, and towel, for his Majesty to wash.
6th July, 1660. His Majesty began first to TOUCH FOR THE BAD! as per tradition, like this: his Majesty sat on his throne in the banqueting house, while the surgeons brought the sick people forward, either by leading or carrying them, to kneel before him. The King gently stroked their faces or cheeks with both hands at the same time. At that moment, a chaplain recited, "He put his hands upon them, and he healed them." This was said for each individual. After all had been touched, they returned in the same order, and the other chaplain, kneeling with angel gold63 strung on a white ribbon around his arm, presented them one by one to his Majesty, who placed the gold around the necks of the healed as they passed by, while the first chaplain repeated, "That is the true light who came into the world." Then there was a reading from an Epistle (followed by a Gospel) along with the Liturgy, prayers for the sick, with some changes; finally, the blessing was given. After that, the Lord Chamberlain and the Comptroller of the Household brought a basin, ewer, and towel for his Majesty to wash himself.
The King received a congratulatory address from the city of Cologne, in Germany, where he had been some time in his exile; his Majesty saying they were the best people in the world, the most kind and worthy to him that he ever met with.[Pg 335] I recommended Monsieur Messary to be Judge Advocate in Jersey, by the Vice-Chamberlain's mediation with the Earl of St. Albans; and saluted my excellent and worthy noble friend, my Lord Ossory, son to the Marquis of Ormond, after many years' absence returned home.
The King received a congratulatory message from the city of Cologne, Germany, where he had spent some time during his exile. His Majesty remarked that they were the best people in the world, the kindest and most deserving he had ever met.[Pg 335] I recommended Monsieur Messary for the position of Judge Advocate in Jersey, with the Vice-Chamberlain's help in speaking to the Earl of St. Albans; and I greeted my excellent and deserving noble friend, my Lord Ossory, the son of the Marquis of Ormond, who had returned home after many years away.
8th July, 1660. Mr. Henchman preached on Ephes. v. 5, concerning Christian circumspection. From henceforth, was the Liturgy publicly used in our churches, whence it had been for so many years banished.
8th July, 1660. Mr. Henchman preached on Ephes. v. 5, about being careful as Christians. From this point on, the Liturgy was used publicly in our churches, from which it had been banished for so many years.
15th July, 1660. Came Sir George Carteret and lady to visit us: he was now Treasurer of the Navy.
15th July, 1660. Sir George Carteret and his wife came to visit us; he was now the Treasurer of the Navy.
28th July, 1660. I heard his Majesty's speech in the Lords' House, on passing the Bills of Tonnage and Poundage; restoration of my Lord Ormond to his estate in Ireland; concerning the commission of sewers, and continuance of the excise. In the afternoon I saluted my old friend, the Archbishop of Armagh, formerly of Londonderry (Dr. Bramhall). He presented several Irish divines to be promoted as Bishops in that kingdom, most of the Bishops in the three kingdoms being now almost worn out, and the Sees vacant.
28th July, 1660. I listened to the King’s speech in the House of Lords regarding the passing of the Tonnage and Poundage Bills, the restoration of Lord Ormond to his estate in Ireland, the commission of sewers, and the continuation of the excise. In the afternoon, I caught up with my old friend, the Archbishop of Armagh, who used to be in Londonderry (Dr. Bramhall). He introduced several Irish theologians being considered for promotion to Bishop positions in that kingdom, as most of the Bishops across the three kingdoms are now nearly retired, leaving the Sees vacant.
31st July, 1660. I went to visit Sir Philip Warwick, now secretary to the Lord Treasurer, at his house in North Cray.
31st July, 1660. I went to visit Sir Philip Warwick, now the secretary to the Lord Treasurer, at his house in North Cray.
19th August, 1660. Our vicar read the Thirty-nine Articles to the congregation, the national assemblies beginning now to settle, and wanting instruction.
19th August, 1660. Our vicar read the Thirty-nine Articles to the congregation, as the national assemblies were starting to settle and needed guidance.
23d August, 1660. Came Duke Hamilton, Lord Lothian, and several Scottish Lords, to see my garden.
23rd August, 1660. Duke Hamilton, Lord Lothian, and several Scottish Lords came to visit my garden.
25th August, 1660. Colonel Spencer, colonel of a regiment of horse in our county of Kent, sent to me, and intreated that I would take a commission for a troop of horse, and that I would nominate my lieutenant and ensigns; I thanked him for the honor intended me; but would by no means undertake the trouble.
25th August, 1660. Colonel Spencer, the head of a cavalry regiment in our county of Kent, reached out to me and asked if I would accept a commission for a troop of cavalry, as well as nominate my lieutenant and ensigns. I thanked him for the honor but made it clear that I didn’t want to take on the responsibility.
4th September, 1660. I was invited to an ordination by the Bishop of Bangor, in Henry VII.'s chapel, Westminster, and afterward saw the audience of an Envoyée from the Duke of Anjou, sent to compliment his Majesty's return.
4th September, 1660. I was invited to an ordination by the Bishop of Bangor in Henry VII's chapel at Westminster, and afterward I attended the audience of an envoy from the Duke of Anjou, who was sent to congratulate His Majesty on his return.
5th September, 1660. Came to visit and dine with me the Envoyée of the King of Poland, and Resident of the King of Denmark, etc.[Pg 336]
5th September, 1660. The envoy of the King of Poland and the resident of the King of Denmark came to visit and have dinner with me.[Pg 336]
7th September, 1660. I went to Chelsea to visit Mr. Boyle, and see his pneumatic engine perform divers experiments. Thence, to Kensington, to visit Mr. Henshaw, returning home that evening.
7th September, 1660. I went to Chelsea to visit Mr. Boyle and see his air pump do various experiments. Then, I went to Kensington to see Mr. Henshaw, returning home that evening.
13th September, 1660. I saw in Southwark, at St. Margaret's fair, monkeys and apes dance, and do other feats of activity on the high rope; they were gallantly clad á la monde, went upright, saluted the company, bowing and pulling off their hats; they saluted one another with as good a grace as if instructed by a dancing master; they turned heels over head with a basket having eggs in it, without breaking any; also, with lighted candles in their hands, and on their heads, without extinguishing them, and with vessels of water without spilling a drop. I also saw an Italian wench dance, and perform all the tricks on the high rope to admiration; all the Court went to see her. Likewise, here was a man who took up a piece of iron cannon of about 400lb. weight with the hair of his head only.
13th September, 1660. I saw at St. Margaret's fair in Southwark monkeys and apes dancing and doing amazing tricks on a high rope; they were stylishly dressed, walked upright, greeted the audience with bows and by removing their hats; they greeted each other with as much elegance as if they had been trained by a dance instructor; they flipped upside down while balancing a basket of eggs without breaking any; they also balanced lit candles in their hands and on their heads without blowing them out, and carried vessels of water without spilling a drop. I also saw an Italian woman dance and perform all the high rope tricks to everyone's admiration; the entire Court came to see her. Additionally, there was a man who lifted a piece of iron cannon weighing about 400 lbs. using only his hair.
17th September, 1660. Went to London, to see the splendid entry of the Prince de Ligne, Ambassador extraordinary from Spain; he was general of the Spanish King's horse in Flanders, and was accompanied with divers great persons from thence, and an innumerable retinue. His train consisted of seventeen coaches, with six horses of his own, besides a great number of English, etc. Greater bravery had I never seen. He was received in the Banqueting House, in exceeding state, all the great officers of Court attending.
17th September, 1660. I went to London to witness the grand arrival of the Prince de Ligne, the extraordinary ambassador from Spain. He was the general of the Spanish King’s cavalry in Flanders and was accompanied by several important figures from there, along with a countless entourage. His procession included seventeen coaches, each pulled by six of his own horses, along with many English horses, and so on. I had never seen such splendor. He was welcomed in the Banqueting House with great ceremony, attended by all the high-ranking officials of the Court.
23d September, 1660. In the midst of all this joy and jubilee, the Duke of Gloucester died of the smallpox, in the prime of youth, and a prince of extraordinary hopes.
23rd September, 1660. In the midst of all this joy and celebration, the Duke of Gloucester died of smallpox, in the prime of his youth, and was a prince of great promise.
27th September, 1660. The King received the merchant's addresses in his closet, giving them assurances of his persisting to keep Jamaica, choosing Sir Edward Massey Governor. In the afternoon, the Danish Ambassador's condolences were presented, on the death of the Duke of Gloucester. This evening, I saw the Princess Royal, mother to the Prince of Orange, now come out of Holland in a fatal period.
27th September, 1660. The King met with the merchants in his private chamber, assuring them that he would continue to maintain control of Jamaica, appointing Sir Edward Massey as Governor. In the afternoon, the Danish Ambassador offered his condolences for the death of the Duke of Gloucester. This evening, I saw the Princess Royal, mother of the Prince of Orange, who has now arrived from Holland during this unfortunate time.
6th October, 1660. I paid the great tax of poll money, levied for disbanding the army, till now kept up. I[Pg 337] paid as an Esquire £10, and one shilling for every servant in my house.
6th October, 1660. I paid the hefty poll tax, imposed to disband the army that had been maintained until now. I[Pg 337] paid £10 as an Esquire, and one shilling for each servant in my household.
7th October, 1660. There dined with me a French count, with Sir George Tuke, who came to take leave of me, being sent over to the Queen-Mother, to break the marriage of the Duke with the daughter of Chancellor Hyde. The Queen would fain have undone it; but it seems matters were reconciled, on great offers of the Chancellor's to befriend the Queen, who was much in debt, and was now to have the settlement of her affairs go through his hands.
7th October, 1660. A French count had dinner with me, along with Sir George Tuke, who came to say goodbye as he was being sent to the Queen-Mother to break off the marriage between the Duke and Chancellor Hyde's daughter. The Queen really wanted to stop it, but it seems things were smoothed over due to the Chancellor's generous offers to support the Queen, who was in significant debt, and was now going to have her affairs handled by him.
11th October, 1660. The regicides who sat on the life of our late King, were brought to trial in the Old Bailey, before a commission of oyer and terminer.
11th October, 1660. The regicides who were responsible for the death of our late King were put on trial at the Old Bailey before a special court.
14th October, 1660. Axtall, Carew, Clement, Hacker, Hewson, and Peters, were executed.
14th October, 1660. Axtall, Carew, Clement, Hacker, Hewson, and Peters were executed.
17th October, 1660. Scot, Scroop, Cook, and Jones, suffered for reward of their iniquities at Charing Cross, in sight of the place where they put to death their natural prince, and in the presence of the King his son, whom they also sought to kill. I saw not their execution, but met their quarters, mangled, and cut, and reeking, as they were brought from the gallows in baskets on the hurdle. Oh, the miraculous providence of God!
17th October, 1660. Scot, Scroop, Cook, and Jones were punished for their wrongdoings at Charing Cross, right in front of the spot where they executed their rightful king, and in the presence of his son, whom they also tried to kill. I didn’t witness their execution, but I came across their dismembered bodies, mangled and bloody, as they were taken from the gallows in baskets on the hurdle. Oh, the amazing providence of God!
28th October, 1660. His Majesty went to meet the Queen-Mother.
28th October, 1660. His Majesty went to meet the Queen Mother.
29th October, 1660. Going to London, my Lord Mayor's show stopped me in Cheapside; one of the pageants represented a great wood, with the royal oak, and history of his Majesty's miraculous escape at Boscobel.
29th October, 1660. On my way to London, I got caught up in the Lord Mayor's parade in Cheapside; one of the floats depicted a large forest with the royal oak and the story of His Majesty's miraculous escape at Boscobel.
31st October, 1660. Arrived now to my fortieth year, I rendered to Almighty God my due and hearty thanks.
31st October, 1660. Now that I've reached my fortieth year, I offered my sincere and grateful thanks to Almighty God.
1st November, 1660. I went with some of my relations to Court, to show them his Majesty's cabinet and closet of rarities; the rare miniatures of Peter Oliver, after Raphael, Titian, and other masters, which I infinitely esteem; also, that large piece of the Duchess of Lennox, done in enamel, by Petitot, and a vast number of agates, onyxes, and intaglios, especially a medallion of Cæsar, as broad as my hand; likewise, rare cabinets of pietra-commessa, a landscape of needlework, formerly presented by the Dutch to King Charles I. Here I saw a vast book of maps, in a volume near four yards large; a curious ship[Pg 338] model; and, among the clocks, one that showed the rising and setting of the sun in the zodiac; the sun represented by a face and rays of gold, upon an azure sky, observing the diurnal and annual motion, rising and setting behind a landscape of hills,—the work of our famous Fromantil,—and several other rarities.
1st November, 1660. I went to Court with some of my family to show them the King’s collection of oddities; the rare miniatures by Peter Oliver after Raphael, Titian, and other masters, which I highly admire; also, that large piece of the Duchess of Lennox done in enamel by Petitot, and a huge number of agates, onyxes, and intaglios, especially a medallion of Caesar, as wide as my hand; and some unique cabinets of pietra-commessa, along with a needlework landscape that was previously given to King Charles I by the Dutch. I also saw a huge book of maps, nearly four yards long; a detailed ship model; and among the clocks, one that indicated the sunrise and sunset in the zodiac; the sun shown as a face with rays of gold on a blue sky, tracking the daily and yearly motion, rising and setting behind a hillside landscape,—the work of our famous Fromantil,—and various other rarities.
3d October, 1660. Arrived the Queen-Mother in England, whence she had been banished for almost twenty years; together with her illustrious daughter, the Princess Henrietta, divers princes and noblemen, accompanying them.
3rd October, 1660. The Queen Mother arrived in England, having been exiled for nearly twenty years; along with her distinguished daughter, Princess Henrietta, and several princes and nobles who accompanied them.
15th October, 1660. I kissed the Queen-Mother's hand.
15th October, 1660. I kissed the hand of the Queen Mother.
20th October, 1660. I dined at the Clerk Comptroller's of the Green Cloth, being the first day of the re-establishment of the Court diet, and settling of his Majesty's household.
20th October, 1660. I had lunch at the Clerk Comptroller's of the Green Cloth, marking the first day of the re-establishment of the Court diet and the organization of his Majesty's household.
23d October, 1660. Being this day in the bedchamber of the Princess Henrietta, where were many great beauties and noblemen, I saluted divers of my old friends and acquaintances abroad; his Majesty carrying my wife to salute the Queen and Princess, and then led her into his closet, and with his own hands showed her divers curiosities.
23rd October, 1660. Today, I was in the bedroom of Princess Henrietta, where there were many beautiful ladies and noblemen. I greeted several of my old friends and acquaintances from abroad; the King took my wife to greet the Queen and Princess, and then brought her into his private chamber, where he personally showed her various curiosities.
25th October, 1660. Dr. Rainbow preached before the King, on Luke ii. 14, of the glory to be given God for all his mercies, especially for restoring the Church and government; now the service was performed with music, voices, etc., as formerly.
25th October, 1660. Dr. Rainbow preached before the King, on Luke 2:14, about the glory to be given to God for all His mercies, especially for restoring the Church and government; the service was conducted with music, voices, etc., as it had been before.
27th November, 1660. Came down the Clerk Comptroller [of the Green Cloth] by the Lord Steward's appointment, to survey the land at Sayes Court, on which I had pretense, and to make his report.
27th November, 1660. The Clerk Comptroller [of the Green Cloth] came down at the Lord Steward's request to look over the land at Sayes Court, which I had a claim to, and to prepare his report.
6th December, 1660. I waited on my brother and sister Evelyn to Court. Now were presented to his Majesty those two rare pieces of drollery, or rather a Dutch Kitchen, painted by Dowe, so finely as hardly to be distinguished from enamel. I was also shown divers rich jewels and crystal vases; the rare head of Jo. Bellino, Titian's master; Christ in the Garden, by Hannibal Caracci; two incomparable heads, by Holbein; the Queen-Mother in a miniature, almost as big as the life; an exquisite piece of carving; two unicorn's horns, etc. This in the closet.[Pg 339]
6th December, 1660. I visited my brother and sister Evelyn at Court. We were shown to His Majesty some amazing artworks, specifically a Dutch Kitchen painted by Dowe, so finely done that it was hard to tell it apart from enamel. I was also shown various rich jewels and crystal vases; the rare head of Jo. Bellino, who was Titian's mentor; "Christ in the Garden" by Hannibal Caracci; two incredible portraits by Holbein; a miniature of the Queen-Mother, almost life-sized; a beautiful piece of carving; and two unicorn horns, among other things. This was all in the closet.[Pg 339]
13th December, 1660. I presented my son, John, to the Queen-Mother, who kissed him, talked with and made extraordinary much of him.
13th December, 1660. I introduced my son, John, to the Queen-Mother, who kissed him, chatted with him, and made a big deal out of him.
14th December, 1660. I visited my Lady Chancellor, the Marchioness of Ormond, and Countess of Guildford, all of whom we had known abroad in exile.
14th December, 1660. I visited my Lady Chancellor, the Marchioness of Ormond, and Countess of Guildford, all of whom we had known while living in exile abroad.
18th December, 1660. I carried Mr. Spellman, a most ingenious gentleman, grandchild to the learned Sir Henry, to my Lord Mordaunt, to whom I had recommended him as secretary.
18th December, 1660. I took Mr. Spellman, a very clever gentleman and the grandson of the learned Sir Henry, to my Lord Mordaunt, to whom I had suggested him as a secretary.
21st December, 1660. This day died the Princess of Orange, of the smallpox, which entirely altered the face and gallantry of the whole Court.
21st December, 1660. Today, the Princess of Orange passed away from smallpox, which completely changed the demeanor and style of the entire Court.
22d December, 1660. The marriage of the Chancellor's daughter being now newly owned, I went to see her, she being Sir Richard Browne's intimate acquaintance when she waited on the Princess of Orange; she was now at her father's, at Worcester House, in the Strand. We all kissed her hand, as did also my Lord Chamberlain (Manchester) and Countess of Northumberland. This was a strange change—can it succeed well?—I spent the evening at St. James's, whither the Princess Henrietta was retired during the fatal sickness of her sister, the Princess of Orange, now come over to salute the King her brother. The Princess gave my wife an extraordinary compliment and gracious acceptance, for the "Character"64 she had presented her the day before, and which was afterward printed.
22nd December, 1660. Now that the Chancellor's daughter has recently been married, I went to visit her since she was a close friend of Sir Richard Browne when she served the Princess of Orange. She was currently at her father's place, Worcester House, in the Strand. We all kissed her hand, including my Lord Chamberlain (Manchester) and the Countess of Northumberland. This is quite a change—will it turn out well? I spent the evening at St. James's, where Princess Henrietta had retreated during the tragic illness of her sister, the Princess of Orange, who has now come over to greet her brother, the King. The Princess gave my wife an extraordinary compliment and graciously accepted the "Character"64 she had presented to her the day before, which was later printed.
25th December, 1660. Preached at the Abbey, Dr. Earle, Clerk of his Majesty's Closet, and my dear friend, now Dean of Westminster, on Luke ii. 13, 14, condoling the breach made in the public joy by the lamented death of the Princess.
25th December, 1660. Preached at the Abbey, Dr. Earle, Clerk of his Majesty's Closet, and my dear friend, now Dean of Westminster, on Luke ii. 13, 14, expressing sorrow over the interruption of public joy caused by the sad passing of the Princess.
30th December, 1660. I dined at Court with Mr. Crane, Clerk of the Green Cloth.
30th December, 1660. I had dinner at Court with Mr. Crane, Clerk of the Green Cloth.
31st December, 1660. I gave God thanks for his many signal mercies to myself, church, and nation, this wonderful year.
31st December, 1660. I thanked God for his numerous blessings to me, my church, and our nation this amazing year.
2d January, 1661. The Queen-Mother, with the Princess Henrietta, began her journey to Portsmouth, in order to her return into France.[Pg 340]
2nd January, 1661. The Queen Mother, along with Princess Henrietta, started their trip to Portsmouth to return to France.[Pg 340]
5th January, 1661. I visited my Lord Chancellor Clarendon, with whom I had been well acquainted abroad.
5th January, 1661. I visited my Lord Chancellor Clarendon, whom I had known well while I was overseas.
6th January, 1661. Dr. Allestree preached at the Abbey, after which four Bishops were consecrated, Hereford, Norwich, ...
6th January, 1661. Dr. Allestree preached at the Abbey, after which four Bishops were consecrated: Hereford, Norwich, ...
This night was suppressed a bloody insurrection of some Fifth-Monarchy enthusiasts. Some of them were examined at the Council the next day; but could say nothing to extenuate their madness and unwarrantable zeal.
This night was marked by a bloody uprising of some Fifth Monarchy supporters. Some of them were questioned by the Council the next day, but they couldn’t say anything to justify their madness and reckless fervor.
I was now chosen (and nominated by his Majesty for one of the Council), by suffrage of the rest of the members, a Fellow of the Philosophic Society now meeting at Gresham College, where was an assembly of divers learned gentlemen. This being the first meeting since the King's return; but it had been begun some years before at Oxford, and was continued with interruption here in London during the Rebellion.
I was now chosen (and nominated by his Majesty for one of the Council) by the vote of the other members as a Fellow of the Philosophic Society now meeting at Gresham College, where there was a gathering of various learned gentlemen. This was the first meeting since the King returned; however, it had started a few years earlier at Oxford and continued with interruptions here in London during the Rebellion.
There was another rising of the fanatics, in which some were slain.
There was another uprising of the fanatics, in which some were killed.
16th January, 1661. I went to the Philosophic Club, where was examined the Torricellian experiment. I presented my Circle of Mechanical Trades, and had recommended to me the publishing what I had written of Chalcography.
16th January, 1661. I went to the Philosophic Club, where the Torricelli experiment was discussed. I presented my Circle of Mechanical Trades and was advised to publish what I had written about Chalcography.
25th January, 1661. After divers years since I had seen any play, I went to see acted "The Scornful Lady," at a new theater in Lincoln's-Inn Fields.
25th January, 1661. After several years since I had seen any play, I went to watch "The Scornful Lady" performed at a new theater in Lincoln's Inn Fields.
30th January, 1661. Was the first solemn fast and day of humiliation to deplore the sins which had so long provoked God against this afflicted church and people, ordered by Parliament to be annually celebrated to expiate the guilt of the execrable murder of the late King.
30th January, 1661. It was the first official day of fasting and humility to mourn the sins that had long angered God against this suffering church and its people, mandated by Parliament to be celebrated every year to atone for the horrific murder of the late King.
This day (Oh, the stupendous and inscrutable judgments of God!) were the carcasses of those arch-rebels, Cromwell, Bradshawe (the judge who condemned his Majesty), and Ireton (son-in-law to the Usurper), dragged out of their superb tombs in Westminster among the Kings, to Tyburn, and hanged on the gallows there from nine in the morning till six at night, and then buried under that fatal and ignominious monument in a deep pit; thousands of people who had seen them in all their pride being[Pg 341] spectators. Look back at October 22, 1658,65 and be astonished! and fear God and honor the King; but meddle not with them who are given to change!
This day (Oh, the amazing and mysterious judgments of God!) the bodies of those chief rebels, Cromwell, Bradshawe (the judge who condemned the king), and Ireton (the Usurper's son-in-law), were pulled from their grand tombs in Westminster among the kings, taken to Tyburn, and hanged on the gallows there from nine in the morning until six at night, and then buried under that infamous and disgraceful monument in a deep pit; thousands of people who had seen them in all their glory were spectators. Look back at October 22, 1658, and be amazed! Fear God and honor the King; but don’t get involved with those who are always looking to change things!
6th February, 1661. To London, to our Society, where I gave notice of the visit of the Danish Ambassador-Extraordinary, and was ordered to return him their acceptance of that honor, and to invite him the next meeting day.
6th February, 1661. To London, to our Society, where I informed them about the visit of the Danish Ambassador-Extraordinary, and I was instructed to send him their acceptance of that honor and to invite him to the next meeting day.
10th February, 1661. Dr. Baldero preached at Ely-house, on Matthew vi. 33, of seeking early the kingdom of God; after sermon, the Bishop (Dr. Wren) gave us the blessing, very pontifically.
10th February, 1661. Dr. Baldero preached at Ely-house, on Matthew 6:33, about seeking the kingdom of God first; after the sermon, the Bishop (Dr. Wren) gave us his blessing in a very ceremonial way.
13th February, 1661. I conducted the Danish Ambassador to our meeting at Gresham College, where were shown him various experiments in vacuo, and other curiosities.
13th February, 1661. I took the Danish Ambassador to our meeting at Gresham College, where we demonstrated various experiments in a vacuum and other curiosities.
21st February, 1661. Prince Rupert first showed me how to grave in mezzo tinto.
21st February, 1661. Prince Rupert first showed me how to engrave in mezzo tinto.
26th February, 1661. I went to Lord Mordaunt's, at Parson's Green.
26th February, 1661. I went to Lord Mordaunt's place at Parson's Green.
27th February, 1661. Ash Wednesday. Preached before the King the Bishop of London (Dr. Sheldon) on Matthew xviii. 25, concerning charity and forgiveness.
27th February, 1661. Ash Wednesday. The Bishop of London (Dr. Sheldon) preached before the King on Matthew 18:25, discussing charity and forgiveness.
8th March, 1661. I went to my Lord Chancellor's, and delivered to him the state of my concernment at Sayes Court.
8th March, 1661. I went to see my Lord Chancellor and presented him with the status of my matters at Sayes Court.
9th March, 1661. I went with that excellent person and philosopher, Sir Robert Murray, to visit Mr. Boyle at Chelsea, and saw divers effects of the eolipile for weighing air.
9th March, 1661. I went with that amazing person and philosopher, Sir Robert Murray, to visit Mr. Boyle in Chelsea, and I saw various results of the eolipile for measuring air.
13th March, 1661. I went to Lambeth, with Sir R. Browne's pretense to the Wardenship of Merton College, Oxford, to which, as having been about forty years before a student of that house, he was elected by the votes of every Fellow except one; but the statutes of the house being so that, unless every Fellow agree, the election devolves to the Visitor, who is the Archbishop of Canterbury (Dr. Juxon), his Grace gave his nomination to Sir T. Clayton, resident there, and the Physic Professor: for which I was not at all displeased, because, though Sir Richard missed it by much ingratitude and wrong of the Archbishop (Clayton being no Fellow), yet it would[Pg 342] have hindered Sir Richard from attending at Court to settle his greater concerns, and so have prejudiced me, though he was much inclined to have passed his time in a collegiate life, very unfit for him at that time, for many reasons. So I took leave of his Grace, who was formerly Lord Treasurer in the reign of Charles I.
13th March, 1661. I went to Lambeth regarding Sir R. Browne's claim to the Wardenship of Merton College, Oxford. He had been a student there about forty years ago and was elected by the votes of every Fellow except one. However, the college's rules state that if every Fellow does not agree, the election goes to the Visitor, who is the Archbishop of Canterbury (Dr. Juxon). His Grace nominated Sir T. Clayton, who lives there and is the Physic Professor. I wasn’t too upset about this because, although Sir Richard lost out due to the Archbishop's ingratitude and wrong decision (Clayton wasn’t a Fellow), it would have prevented Sir Richard from attending at Court to address his more significant issues, which could have negatively affected me. He was quite keen on living a college life, which wasn’t suitable for him at that time for various reasons. So, I took my leave of his Grace, who had previously been Lord Treasurer during the reign of Charles I.
This afternoon, Prince Rupert showed me, with his own hands, the new way of graving, called mezzo tinto, which afterward, by his permission, I published in my "History of Chalcography"; this set so many artists on work, that they soon arrived to the perfection it is since come to, emulating the tenderest miniatures.
This afternoon, Prince Rupert personally demonstrated to me the new technique of engraving known as mezzo tinto. Later, with his permission, I published it in my "History of Chalcography." This inspired many artists to start working, and they quickly achieved the level of perfection that has since been reached, rivaling the most delicate miniatures.
Our Society now gave in my relation of the Peak of Teneriffe, in the Great Canaries, to be added to more queries concerning divers natural things reported of that island.
Our Society has now included my account of the Peak of Tenerife, in the Great Canaries, to add to more questions regarding various natural phenomena reported about that island.
I returned home with my Cousin, Tuke, now going for France, as sent by his Majesty to condole the death of that great Minister and politician, Count Mazarine.
I came back home with my cousin, Tuke, who is now heading to France since his Majesty sent him to express condolences for the death of that great minister and politician, Count Mazarine.
29th March, 1661. Dr. Heylin (author of the "Geography") preached at the Abbey, on Cant. v. 25, concerning friendship and charity; he was, I think, at this time quite dark, and so had been for some years.
29th March, 1661. Dr. Heylin (author of the "Geography") preached at the Abbey, on Cant. v. 25, about friendship and charity; I think he was quite obscure at this time, and had been for several years.
31st March, 1661. This night, his Majesty promised to make my wife Lady of the Jewels (a very honorable charge) to the future Queen (but which he never performed).
31st March, 1661. Tonight, his Majesty promised to make my wife Lady of the Jewels (a very honorable position) to the future Queen (which he never actually did).
1st April, 1661. I dined with that great mathematician and virtuoso, Monsieur Zulichem, inventor of the pendule clock, and discoverer of the phenomenon of Saturn's annulus: he was elected into our Society.
1st April, 1661. I had dinner with the great mathematician and expert, Monsieur Zulichem, who invented the pendulum clock and discovered the phenomenon of Saturn's rings: he was elected into our Society.
19th April, 1661. To London, and saw the bathing and rest of the ceremonies of the Knights of the Bath, preparatory to the coronation; it was in the Painted Chamber, Westminster. I might have received this honor; but declined it. The rest of the ceremony was in the chapel at Whitehall, when their swords being laid on the altar, the Bishop delivered them.
19th April, 1661. I went to London and witnessed the bathing and other rituals of the Knights of the Bath, in preparation for the coronation; it took place in the Painted Chamber, Westminster. I could have received this honor, but I turned it down. The rest of the ceremony happened in the chapel at Whitehall, where their swords were placed on the altar and then given to them by the Bishop.
22d April, 1661. Was the splendid cavalcade of his Majesty from the Tower of London to Whitehall, when I saw him in the Banqueting House create six Earls, and as many Barons, viz:
22d April, 1661. It was the grand procession of his Majesty from the Tower of London to Whitehall, when I saw him in the Banqueting House make six Earls and as many Barons, namely:
Edward Lord Hyde, Lord Chancellor, Earl of Claren[Pg 343]don; supported by the Earls of Northumberland and Sussex; the Earl of Bedford carried the cap and coronet, the Earl of Warwick, the sword, the Earl of Newport, the mantle.
Edward Lord Hyde, Lord Chancellor, Earl of Clarendon; supported by the Earls of Northumberland and Sussex; the Earl of Bedford carried the cap and coronet, the Earl of Warwick, the sword, the Earl of Newport, the mantle.
Next, was | Capel, created Earl of | Essex. |
Brudenell, | Cardigan; | |
Valentia, | Anglesea; | |
Greenvill, | Bath; and | |
Howard, Earl of Carlisle. |
The Barons were: Denzille Holles; Cornwallis; Booth; Townsend; Cooper; Crew; who were led up by several Peers, with Garter and officers of arms before them; when, after obedience on their several approaches to the throne, their patents were presented by Garter King-at-Arms, which being received by the Lord Chamberlain, and delivered to his Majesty, and by him to the Secretary of State, were read, and then again delivered to his Majesty, and by him to the several Lords created; they were then robed, their coronets and collars put on by his Majesty, and they were placed in rank on both sides of the state and throne; but the Barons put off their caps and circles, and held them in their hands, the Earls keeping on their coronets, as cousins to the King.
The Barons were: Denzille Holles; Cornwallis; Booth; Townsend; Cooper; Crew; and they were escorted by several Peers, with Garter and the officers of arms leading the way. After they showed their respect while approaching the throne, their patents were presented by Garter King-at-Arms. Once received by the Lord Chamberlain and handed over to his Majesty, they were read, then returned to his Majesty and given to the various newly created Lords. They were then dressed in their robes, with their coronets and collars placed on them by his Majesty, and positioned in rank on both sides of the state and throne. However, the Barons took off their caps and circles, holding them in their hands, while the Earls kept their coronets on as relatives of the King.
I spent the rest of the evening in seeing the several archtriumphals built in the streets at several eminent places through which his Majesty was next day to pass, some of which, though temporary, and to stand but one year, were of good invention and architecture, with inscriptions.
I spent the rest of the evening checking out the various triumphal arches built in the streets at several notable spots where his Majesty was set to pass the next day. Some of these, although temporary and meant to last just one year, were well-designed and beautifully constructed, featuring inscriptions.
23d April, 1661. Was the coronation of his Majesty Charles II. in the Abbey-Church of Westminster; at all which ceremony I was present. The King and his Nobility went to the Tower, I accompanying my Lord Viscount Mordaunt part of the way; this was on Sunday, the 22d; but indeed his Majesty went not till early this morning, and proceeded from thence to Westminster in this order:
23rd April, 1661. It was the coronation of King Charles II in Westminster Abbey, and I was there for the whole ceremony. The King and his nobles went to the Tower, and I accompanied my Lord Viscount Mordaunt part of the way; this was on Sunday, the 22nd; however, the King did not leave until early this morning and then traveled from there to Westminster in this order:
First went the Duke of York's Horse Guards. Messengers of the Chamber. 136 Esquires to the Knights of the Bath, each of whom had two, most richly habited. The Knight Harbinger. Sergeant Porter. Sewers of the Chamber. Quarter Waiters. Six Clerks of Chancery. Clerk of the Signet. Clerk of the Privy Seal. Clerks of[Pg 344] the Council, of the Parliament, and of the Crown. Chaplains in ordinary having dignities, 10. King's Advocates and Remembrancer. Council at Law. Masters of the Chancery. Puisne Sergeants. King's Attorney and Solicitor. King's eldest Sergeant. Secretaries of the French and Latin tongue. Gentlemen Ushers. Daily Waiters, Sewers, Carvers, and Cupbearers in ordinary. Esquires of the body, 4. Masters of standing offices, being no Counsellors, viz, of the Tents, Revels, Ceremonies, Armory, Wardrobe, Ordnance, Requests. Chamberlain of the Exchequer. Barons of the Exchequer. Judges. Lord Chief-Baron. Lord Chief-Justice of the Common Pleas. Master of the Rolls. Lord Chief-Justice of England. Trumpets. Gentlemen of the Privy Chamber. Knights of the Bath, 68, in crimson robes, exceeding rich, and the noblest show of the whole cavalcade, his Majesty excepted. Knight Marshal. Treasurer of the Chamber. Master of the Jewels. Lords of the Privy Council. Comptroller of the Household. Treasurer of the Household. Trumpets. Sergeant Trumpet. Two Pursuivants at Arms. Barons. Two Pursuivants at Arms. Viscounts. Two Heralds. Earls. Lord Chamberlain of the Household. Two Heralds. Marquises. Dukes. Heralds Clarencieux and Norroy. Lord Chancellor. Lord High Steward of England. Two persons representing the Dukes of Normandy and Acquitaine, viz, Sir Richard Fanshawe and Sir Herbert Price, in fantastic habits of the time. Gentlemen Ushers. Garter. Lord Mayor of London. The Duke of York alone (the rest by twos). Lord High Constable of England. Lord Great Chamberlain of England. The sword borne by the Earl Marshal of England. The King, in royal robes and equipage. Afterward, followed equerries, footmen, gentlemen pensioners. Master of the Horse, leading a horse richly caparisoned. Vice-Chamberlain. Captain of the Pensioners. Captain of the Guard. The Guard. The Horse Guard. The troop of Volunteers, with many other officers and gentlemen.
First, the Duke of York's Horse Guards marched in. Next were the Chamber Messengers. 136 Esquires for the Knights of the Bath, each with two attendants, all dressed splendidly. The Knight Harbinger. Sergeant Porter. Sewers of the Chamber. Quarter Waiters. Six Clerks of Chancery. Clerk of the Signet. Clerk of the Privy Seal. Clerks of the Council, of Parliament, and of the Crown. Chaplains with dignities, 10. King's Advocates and Remembrancer. Council at Law. Masters of Chancery. Puisne Sergeants. King's Attorney and Solicitor. King's eldest Sergeant. Secretaries fluent in French and Latin. Gentlemen Ushers. Daily Waiters, Sewers, Carvers, and Cupbearers in ordinary. 4 Esquires of the body. Masters of standing offices who are not Counsellors, including those of the Tents, Revels, Ceremonies, Armory, Wardrobe, Ordnance, and Requests. Chamberlain of the Exchequer. Barons of the Exchequer. Judges. Lord Chief-Baron. Lord Chief-Justice of the Common Pleas. Master of the Rolls. Lord Chief-Justice of England. Trumpets. Gentlemen of the Privy Chamber. 68 Knights of the Bath in rich crimson robes, the finest display of the whole procession, aside from His Majesty. Knight Marshal. Treasurer of the Chamber. Master of the Jewels. Lords of the Privy Council. Comptroller of the Household. Treasurer of the Household. Trumpets. Sergeant Trumpet. Two Pursuivants at Arms. Barons. Two Pursuivants at Arms. Viscounts. Two Heralds. Earls. Lord Chamberlain of the Household. Two Heralds. Marquises. Dukes. Heralds Clarencieux and Norroy. Lord Chancellor. Lord High Steward of England. Two individuals representing the Dukes of Normandy and Aquitaine, Sir Richard Fanshawe and Sir Herbert Price, in extravagant attire of the time. Gentlemen Ushers. Garter. Lord Mayor of London. The Duke of York by himself (everyone else in pairs). Lord High Constable of England. Lord Great Chamberlain of England. The sword carried by the Earl Marshal of England. The King, dressed in royal robes and attire. Following were equerries, footmen, gentlemen pensioners. Master of the Horse, leading a richly adorned horse. Vice-Chamberlain. Captain of the Pensioners. Captain of the Guard. The Guard. The Horse Guard. The troop of Volunteers, along with many other officers and gentlemen.
This magnificent train on horseback, as rich as embroidery, velvet, cloth of gold and silver, and jewels, could make them and their prancing horses, proceeded through the streets strewed with flowers, houses hung with rich tapestry, windows and balconies full of ladies; the London militia lining the ways, and the several com[Pg 345]panies, with their banners and loud music, ranked in their orders; the fountains running wine, bells ringing, with speeches made at the several triumphal arches; at that of the Temple Bar (near which I stood) the Lord Mayor was received by the Bailiff of Westminster, who, in a scarlet robe, made a speech. Thence, with joyful acclamations, his Majesty passed to Whitehall. Bonfires at night.
This amazing parade on horseback, adorned with embroidery, velvet, gold and silver fabric, and jewels, made its way through flower-strewn streets, with beautiful houses draped in rich tapestries and windows and balconies filled with ladies. The London militia lined the streets, along with various groups, all in formation with their banners and loud music. Fountains flowed with wine, bells rang, and speeches were given at the different triumphal arches. At Temple Bar (where I was standing), the Lord Mayor was welcomed by the Bailiff of Westminster, who was dressed in a scarlet robe and delivered a speech. From there, with joyful cheers, his Majesty proceeded to Whitehall. Bonfires lit up the night.
The next day, being St. George's, he went by water to Westminster Abbey. When his Majesty was entered, the Dean and Prebendaries brought all the regalia, and delivered them to several noblemen to bear before the King, who met them at the west door of the church, singing an anthem, to the choir. Then, came the Peers, in their robes, and coronets in their hands, till his Majesty was placed on a throne elevated before the altar. Afterward, the Bishop of London (the Archbishop of Canterbury being sick) went to every side of the throne to present the King to the people, asking if they would have him for their King, and do him homage; at this, they shouted four times "God save King Charles II!" Then, an anthem was sung. His Majesty, attended by three Bishops, went up to the altar, and he offered a pall and a pound of gold. Afterward, he sat down in another chair during the sermon, which was preached by Dr. Morley, Bishop of Worcester.
The next day, which was St. George's Day, he traveled by boat to Westminster Abbey. When the King arrived, the Dean and Prebendaries brought all the regalia and handed them over to several noblemen to carry in front of the King, who greeted them at the west door of the church, singing an anthem to the choir. Then the Peers entered in their robes, holding their coronets, until the King was seated on a throne raised in front of the altar. After that, the Bishop of London (since the Archbishop of Canterbury was ill) went to each side of the throne to present the King to the people, asking if they would have him as their King and give him their loyalty; in response, they shouted four times, "God save King Charles II!" After that, an anthem was performed. The King, accompanied by three Bishops, went up to the altar, where he offered a pall and a pound of gold. Then he took a seat in another chair during the sermon, which was delivered by Dr. Morley, Bishop of Worcester.
After sermon, the King took his oath before the altar to maintain the religion, Magna Charta, and laws of the land. The hymn Véni S. Sp. followed, and then the Litany by two Bishops. Then the Archbishop of Canterbury, present, but much indisposed and weak, said "Lift up your hearts"; at which, the King rose up, and put off his robes and upper garments, and was in a waistcoat so opened in divers places, that the Archbishop might commodiously anoint him, first in the palms of his hands, when an anthem was sung, and a prayer read; then, his breast and between the shoulders, bending of both arms; and, lastly, on the crown of the head, with apposite hymns and prayers at each anointing; this done, the Dean closed and buttoned up the waistcoat. After which, was a coif put on, and the cobbium, sindon or dalmatic, and over this a super-tunic of cloth of gold, with buskins and sandals of the same, spurs, and the sword; a prayer being[Pg 346] first said over it by the Archbishop on the altar, before it was girt on by the Lord Chamberlain. Then, the armill, mantle, etc. Then, the Archbishop placed the crown imperial on the altar, prayed over it, and set it on his Majesty's head, at which all the Peers put on their coronets. Anthems, and rare music, with lutes, viols, trumpets, organs, and voices, were then heard, and the Archbishop put a ring on his Majesty's finger. The King next offered his sword on the altar, which being redeemed, was drawn, and borne before him. Then, the Archbishop delivered him the sceptre, with the dove in one hand, and, in the other, the sceptre with the globe. The King kneeling, the Archbishop pronounced the blessing. His Majesty then ascending again his royal throne, while Te Deum was singing, all the Peers did their homage, by every one touching his crown. The Archbishop, and the rest of the Bishops, first kissing the King; who received the Holy Sacrament, and so disrobed, yet with the crown imperial on his head, and accompanied with all the nobility in the former order, he went on foot upon blue cloth, which was spread and reached from the west door of the Abbey to Westminster stairs, when he took water in a triumphal barge to Whitehall where was extraordinary feasting.
After the sermon, the King took his oath at the altar to uphold the religion, Magna Carta, and the laws of the land. The hymn Véni S. Sp. followed, along with the Litany led by two Bishops. Then the Archbishop of Canterbury, who was present but quite weak, said, "Lift up your hearts"; at this, the King stood up, removed his robes and outer garments, and wore a waistcoat that was open in several places so the Archbishop could easily anoint him. First, he anointed the palms of the King's hands while an anthem was sung and a prayer was read; then he anointed his chest and between his shoulders, bending both arms; and finally, he anointed the crown of his head, accompanied by appropriate hymns and prayers at each anointing. Once this was done, the Dean closed and buttoned the waistcoat. Afterward, a coif was placed on him, along with the cobbium, sindon, or dalmatic, and over this, a super-tunic made of gold cloth, along with buskins and sandals of the same material, spurs, and the sword, after a prayer was said over it by the Archbishop on the altar before the Lord Chamberlain fastened it to him. Then came the armill, mantle, etc. The Archbishop then set the imperial crown on the altar, prayed over it, and placed it on the King's head, at which all the Peers put on their coronets. Anthems and beautiful music filled the air, with lutes, viols, trumpets, organs, and voices, while the Archbishop placed a ring on the King's finger. The King then offered his sword at the altar, which was redeemed, drawn, and carried before him. Next, the Archbishop handed him the scepter with the dove in one hand and in the other, the scepter with the globe. The King knelt, and the Archbishop pronounced the blessing. His Majesty then ascended again to his royal throne while Te Deum was sung, and all the Peers paid their homage by each touching his crown. The Archbishop and the other Bishops first kissed the King, who received the Holy Sacrament, and so disrobed, still wearing the imperial crown on his head. Accompanied by all the nobility in the same order, he walked on foot over blue cloth that was spread from the west door of the Abbey to Westminster stairs, where he took a ceremonial barge to Whitehall for a grand feast.
24th April, 1661. I presented his Majesty with his "Panegyric"66 in the Privy Chamber, which he was pleased to accept most graciously; I gave copies to the Lord Chancellor, and most of the noblemen who came to me for it. I dined at the Marquis of Ormond's where was a magnificent feast, and many great persons.
24th April, 1661. I presented his Majesty with his "Panegyric"66 in the Privy Chamber, which he graciously accepted. I also gave copies to the Lord Chancellor and most of the nobles who requested one. I had dinner at the Marquis of Ormond's, where there was a magnificent feast and many important guests.
1st May, 1661. I went to Hyde Park to take the air, where was his Majesty and an innumerable appearance of gallants and rich coaches, being now a time of universal festivity and joy.
1st May, 1661. I went to Hyde Park to enjoy the fresh air, where the King was along with a countless number of stylish people and luxurious carriages, as it was a time of widespread celebration and happiness.
2d May, 1661. I had audience of my Lord Chancellor about my title to Sayes Court.
2nd May, 1661. I met with my Lord Chancellor regarding my claim to Sayes Court.
3d May, 1661. I went to see the wonderful engine for weaving silk stockings, said to have been the invention of an Oxford scholar forty years since; and I returned by Fromantil's, the famous clockmaker, to see some pendules, Monsieur Zulichem being with us.[Pg 347]
3rd May, 1661. I went to check out the amazing machine for weaving silk stockings, which is said to have been invented by an Oxford scholar forty years ago. I returned via Fromantil's, the famous clockmaker, to look at some clocks, with Monsieur Zulichem accompanying us.[Pg 347]
This evening, I was with my Lord Brouncker, Sir Robert Murray, Sir Patrick Neill, Monsieur Zulichem, and Bull (all of them of our Society, and excellent mathematicians), to show his Majesty, who was present, Saturn's annulus, as some thought, but as Zulichem affirmed with his balteus (as that learned gentleman had published), very near eclipsed by the moon, near the Mons Porphyritis; also, Jupiter and satellites, through his Majesty's great telescope, drawing thirty-five feet; on which were divers discourses.
This evening, I was with Lord Brouncker, Sir Robert Murray, Sir Patrick Neill, Monsieur Zulichem, and Bull (all of them members of our Society and excellent mathematicians) to show His Majesty, who was present, Saturn's ring, as some believed, but as Zulichem insisted with his *balteus* (as that learned gentleman had published), it was very close to being eclipsed by the moon, near Mons Porphyritis; we also observed Jupiter and its moons through His Majesty's large telescope, which was thirty-five feet long; many discussions took place about this.
8th May, 1661. His Majesty rode in state, with his imperial crown on, and all the peers in their robes, in great pomp to the Parliament now newly chosen (the old one being dissolved); and, that evening, declared in council his intention to marry the Infanta of Portugal.
8th May, 1661. His Majesty rode in state, wearing his imperial crown, and all the nobles in their robes, with great pomp to the newly elected Parliament (the old one having been dissolved); and that evening, he announced in council his intention to marry the Infanta of Portugal.
9th May, 1661. At Sir Robert Murray's, where I met Dr. Wallis, Professor of Geometry in Oxford, where was discourse of several mathematical subjects.
9th May, 1661. At Sir Robert Murray's, where I met Dr. Wallis, Professor of Geometry at Oxford, and we discussed various mathematical topics.
11th May, 1661. My wife presented to his Majesty the Madonna she had copied in miniature from P. Oliver's painting, after Raphael, which she wrought with extraordinary pains and judgment. The King was infinitely pleased with it, and caused it to be placed in his cabinet among his best paintings.
11th May, 1661. My wife showed his Majesty the Madonna she had replicated in miniature from P. Oliver's painting, based on Raphael's work, which she created with remarkable effort and skill. The King was extremely pleased with it and had it displayed in his cabinet among his finest paintings.
13th May, 1661. I heard and saw such exercises at the election of scholars at Westminster School to be sent to the University in Latin, Greek, Hebrew, and Arabic, in themes and extemporary verses, as wonderfully astonished me in such youths, with such readiness and wit, some of them not above twelve or thirteen years of age. Pity it is, that what they attain here so ripely, they either do not retain, or do not improve more considerably when they come to be men, though many of them do; and no less is to be blamed their odd pronouncing of Latin, so that out of England none were able to understand, or endure it. The examinants, or posers, were, Dr. Duport, Greek Professor at Cambridge; Dr. Fell, Dean of Christ Church, Oxford; Dr. Pierson; Dr. Allestree, Dean of Westminster, and any that would.
May 13, 1661. I witnessed an incredible display of talent during the election of scholars at Westminster School, where they were evaluated for their readiness to attend the University in Latin, Greek, Hebrew, and Arabic, through essays and spontaneous poetry. I was truly amazed by these young students, some not older than twelve or thirteen, who demonstrated such quick thinking and intelligence. It's unfortunate that the skills they develop here so effectively often don't stick with them or grow significantly as they become adults, although many do manage to improve. Their peculiar way of pronouncing Latin is also a drawback, making it difficult for anyone outside of England to understand or tolerate. The examiners included Dr. Duport, the Greek Professor at Cambridge; Dr. Fell, the Dean of Christ Church, Oxford; Dr. Pierson; Dr. Allestree, the Dean of Westminster, along with anyone else who wanted to participate.
14th May, 1661. His Majesty was pleased to discourse with me concerning several particulars relating to our Society, and the planet Saturn, etc., as he sat at supper in the withdrawing-room to his bedchamber.[Pg 348]
14th May, 1661. His Majesty kindly talked with me about various details regarding our Society, the planet Saturn, and more, while he was having dinner in his bedroom's sitting room.[Pg 348]
16th May, 1661. I dined with Mr. Garmus, the Resident from Hamburg, who continued his feast near nine whole hours, according to the custom of his country, though there was no great excess of drinking, no man being obliged to take more than he liked.
16th May, 1661. I had dinner with Mr. Garmus, the Resident from Hamburg, who kept the feast going for nearly nine hours, as is customary in his country, although there wasn't a lot of heavy drinking, and no one was required to drink more than they wanted.
22d May, 1661. The Scotch Covenant was burnt by the common hangman in divers places in London. Oh, prodigious change!
22nd May, 1661. The Scottish Covenant was burned by the public executioner in various locations in London. Oh, what a huge change!
29th May, 1661. This was the first anniversary appointed by act of Parliament to be observed as a day of general thanksgiving for the miraculous restoration of his Majesty: our vicar preaching on Psalm cxviii. 24, requiring us to be thankful and rejoice, as indeed we had cause.
29th May, 1661. This was the first anniversary designated by an act of Parliament to be observed as a day of general thanksgiving for the miraculous restoration of his Majesty: our vicar preached on Psalm cxviii. 24, urging us to be thankful and rejoice, as we truly had reason to.
4th June, 1661. Came Sir Charles Harbord, his Majesty's surveyor, to take an account of what grounds I challenged at Sayes Court.
4th June, 1661. Sir Charles Harbord, the King's surveyor, came by to assess the land I claimed at Sayes Court.
27th June, 1661. I saw the Portugal ambassador at dinner with his Majesty in state, where was excellent music.
27th June, 1661. I saw the ambassador of Portugal having dinner with his Majesty in a formal setting, where there was great music.
2d July, 1661. I went to see the New Spring-Garden, at Lambeth, a prettily contrived plantation.
2d July, 1661. I went to check out the New Spring-Garden at Lambeth, a nicely designed garden.
19th July, 1661. We tried our Diving-Bell, or engine, in the water dock at Deptford, in which our curator continued half an hour under water; it was made of cast lead, let down with a strong cable.
19th July, 1661. We tested our Diving-Bell, or device, in the water dock at Deptford, where our curator stayed underwater for half an hour; it was made of cast lead and lowered with a strong cable.
3d August, 1661. Came my Lord Hatton, Comptroller of his Majesty's household to visit me.
3d August, 1661. My Lord Hatton, the Comptroller of the King's household, came to visit me.
9th August, 1661. I tried several experiments on the sensitive plant and humilis, which contracted with the least touch of the sun through a burning glass, though it rises and opens only when it shines on it.
9th August, 1661. I conducted several experiments on the sensitive plant and humilis, which closed up with the slightest touch of sunlight through a magnifying glass, even though it only rises and opens when it's directly lit up.
I first saw the famous Queen Pine brought from Barbadoes, and presented to his Majesty; but the first that were ever seen in England were those sent to Cromwell four years since.
I first saw the famous Queen Pine brought from Barbados and given to his Majesty; but the first ones ever seen in England were the ones sent to Cromwell four years ago.
I dined at Mr. Palmer's in Gray's Inn, whose curiosity excelled in clocks and pendules, especially one that had innumerable motions, and played nine or ten tunes on the bells very finely, some of them set in parts: which was very harmonious. It was wound up but once in a quarter. He had also good telescopes and mathematical instruments, choice pictures, and other curiosities. Thence, we went to that famous mountebank, Jo. Punteus.[Pg 349]
I had dinner at Mr. Palmer's place in Gray's Inn, where his collection of clocks and pendulums was impressive, especially one that had countless movements and played nine or ten tunes on the bells really well, with some of them in harmony. It only needed to be wound up once every three months. He also had nice telescopes, math tools, beautiful paintings, and other interesting items. From there, we went to see the famous showman, Jo. Punteus.[Pg 349]
Sir Kenelm Digby presented every one of us his "Discourse of the Vegetation of Plants"; and Mr. Henshaw, his "History of Saltpeter and Gunpowder." I assisted him to procure his place of French Secretary to the King, which he purchased of Sir Henry De Vic.
Sir Kenelm Digby shared with all of us his "Discourse of the Vegetation of Plants," and Mr. Henshaw presented his "History of Saltpeter and Gunpowder." I helped him secure his position as French Secretary to the King, which he bought from Sir Henry De Vic.
I went to that famous physician, Sir Fr. Prujean, who showed me his laboratory, his workhouse for turning, and other mechanics; also many excellent pictures, especially the Magdalen of Caracci; and some incomparable paysages done in distemper; he played to me likewise on the polythore, an instrument having something of the harp, lute, and theorbo; by none known in England, nor described by any author, nor used, but by this skillful and learned Doctor.
I visited the well-known doctor, Sir Fr. Prujean, who showed me his lab, his workshop for turning, and various mechanical devices. He also had many amazing paintings, especially the Magdalen by Caracci, and some incredible landscapes done in distemper. He even played for me on the polythore, an instrument that resembles a mix of the harp, lute, and theorbo; something that isn't recognized in England, hasn't been described by any author, and is only played by this skilled and knowledgeable doctor.
15th August, 1661. I went to Tunbridge-Wells, my wife being there for the benefit of her health. Walking about the solitudes, I greatly admired the extravagant turnings, insinuations, and growth of certain birch trees among the rocks.
15th August, 1661. I went to Tunbridge-Wells, where my wife was for the sake of her health. As I strolled through the quiet areas, I was really impressed by the wild twists, subtle curves, and growth of some birch trees among the rocks.
13th September, 1661. I presented my "Fumifugium"67 dedicated to his Majesty, who was pleased that I should publish it by his special commands, being much gratified with it.
13th September, 1661. I presented my "Fumifugium"67 dedicated to His Majesty, who was pleased that I could publish it under his special instructions, as he was quite pleased with it.
18th September, 1661. This day was read our petition to his Majesty for his royal grant, authorizing our Society to meet as a corporation, with several privileges.
18th September, 1661. Today, we presented our petition to his Majesty for his royal approval, allowing our Society to assemble as a corporation, along with several privileges.
An exceedingly sickly, wet autumn.
A very sickly, rainy autumn.
1st October, 1661. I sailed this morning with his Majesty in one of his yachts (or pleasure boats), vessels not known among us till the Dutch East India Company presented that curious piece to the King; being very excellent sailing vessels. It was on a wager between his other new pleasure boat, built frigate-like, and one of the Duke of York's; the wager £100; the race from Greenwich to Gravesend and back. The King lost it going, the wind being contrary, but saved stakes in returning. There were divers noble persons and lords on board, his Majesty sometimes steering himself. His barge and kitchen boat attended. I brake fast this morning with the King at return in his smaller vessel, he being pleased to take me and only four more, who[Pg 350] were noblemen, with him; but dined in his yacht, where we all ate together with his Majesty. In this passage he was pleased to discourse to me about my book inveighing against the nuisance of the smoke of London, and proposing expedients how, by removing those particulars I mentioned, it might be reformed; commanding me to prepare a Bill against the next session of Parliament, being, as he said, resolved to have something done in it. Then he discoursed to me of the improvement of gardens and buildings, now very rare in England comparatively to other countries. He then commanded me to draw up the matter of fact happening at the bloody encounter which then had newly happened between the French and Spanish Ambassadors near the Tower, contending for precedency, at the reception of the Swedish Ambassador; giving me orders to consult Sir William Compton, Master of the Ordnance, to inform me of what he knew of it, and with his favorite, Sir Charles Berkeley, captain of the Duke's life guard, then present with his troop and three foot companies; with some other reflections and instructions, to be prepared with a declaration to take off the reports which went about of his Majesty's partiality in the affairs, and of his officers' and spectators' rudeness while the conflict lasted. So I came home that night, and went next morning to London, where from the officers of the Tower, Sir William Compton, Sir Charles Berkeley, and others who were attending at this meeting of the Ambassadors three days before, having collected what I could, I drew up a Narrative in vindication of his Majesty, and the carriage of his officers and standers-by.
1st October, 1661. I sailed this morning with the King in one of his yachts, which are pleasure boats that weren't known to us until the Dutch East India Company gifted this remarkable vessel to the King; they are excellent sailing boats. It was a bet between his other new pleasure boat, which was built like a frigate, and one of the Duke of York's boats; the wager was £100, with the race going from Greenwich to Gravesend and back. The King lost on the way there due to contrary winds, but he saved his stake on the return trip. There were several noble people and lords on board, and the King sometimes steered the boat himself. His barge and kitchen boat were following. I had breakfast with the King on his smaller vessel upon our return, as he invited me and just four others, who were also noblemen, with him; we dined on his yacht, where we all ate together with the King. During this time, he discussed my book criticizing the smoke nuisance in London and suggested ways to address the issues I mentioned, commanding me to prepare a Bill for the next session of Parliament, as he said he was determined to take action on it. Then he talked with me about improving gardens and buildings, which are quite rare in England compared to other countries. He then instructed me to outline the events of the bloody encounter that had just occurred between the French and Spanish Ambassadors near the Tower, who were arguing over precedence during the reception of the Swedish Ambassador; he ordered me to consult Sir William Compton, Master of the Ordnance, for information on the matter, as well as with his favorite, Sir Charles Berkeley, captain of the Duke’s life guard, who was then present with his troop and three foot companies. Along with some other reflections and instructions, I was to prepare a statement to dispel rumors about the King’s partiality in these matters and the rudeness of his officers and spectators during the conflict. That night, I returned home and went to London the next morning, where I gathered information from the officers at the Tower, Sir William Compton, Sir Charles Berkeley, and others who had been present at the meeting of the Ambassadors three days earlier. After collecting what I could, I wrote up a Narrative to vindicate the King and the conduct of his officers and bystanders.
On Thursday his Majesty sent one of the pages of the back stairs for me to wait on him with my papers, in his cabinet where was present only Sir Henry Bennett (Privy-Purse), when beginning to read to his Majesty what I had drawn up, by the time I had read half a page, came in Mr. Secretary Morice with a large paper, desiring to speak with his Majesty, who told him he was now very busy, and therefore ordered him to come again some other time; the Secretary replied that what he had in his hand was of extraordinary importance. So the King rose up, and, commanding me to stay, went aside to a corner of the room with the Secretary; after a while,[Pg 351] the Secretary being dispatched, his Majesty returning to me at the table, a letter was brought him from Madame out of France;68 this he read and then bid me proceed from where I left off. This I did till I had ended all the narrative, to his Majesty's great satisfaction; and, after I had inserted one or two more clauses, in which his Majesty instructed me, commanded that it should that night be sent to the posthouse, directed to the Lord Ambassador at Paris (the Earl of St. Alban's), and then at leisure to prepare him a copy, which he would publish. This I did, and immediately sent my papers to the Secretary of State, with his Majesty's express command of dispatching them that night for France. Before I went out of the King's closet, he called me back to show me some ivory statues, and other curiosities that I had not seen before.
On Thursday, the King sent one of the page boys from the back stairs to ask me to bring my papers and wait for him in his office, where only Sir Henry Bennett (the Privy Purse) was present. When I started reading what I had prepared, halfway through the page, Mr. Secretary Morice walked in with a large document, asking to speak with the King. The King informed him he was busy and suggested he come back later. The Secretary insisted that what he had was extremely important. So, the King stood up, told me to wait, and stepped aside with the Secretary in a corner of the room. After a while, once the Secretary was done, the King returned to the table where I was. A letter from Madame in France was brought to him; he read it and then instructed me to continue from where I had stopped. I carried on until I finished the entire narrative, which greatly pleased the King. After adding a couple more clauses based on his instructions, he ordered that it be sent to the posthouse that night, addressed to the Lord Ambassador in Paris (the Earl of St. Alban's), and also asked me to prepare a copy for him to publish at his leisure. I did this and promptly sent my papers to the Secretary of State with the King's direct order to dispatch them that night to France. Before I left the King's study, he called me back to show me some ivory statues and other curiosities that I hadn't seen before.
3d October, 1661. Next evening, being in the withdrawing-room adjoining the bedchamber, his Majesty espying me came to me from a great crowd of noblemen standing near the fire, and asked me if I had done; and told me he feared it might be a little too sharp, on second thoughts, for he had that morning spoken with the French Ambassador, who it seems had palliated the matter, and was very tame; and therefore directed me where I should soften a period or two, before it was published (as afterward it was). This night also he spoke to me to give him a sight of what was sent, and to bring it to him in his bedchamber; which I did, and received it again from him at dinner, next day. By Saturday, having finished it with all his Majesty's notes, the King being gone abroad, I sent the papers to Sir Henry Bennett (Privy-Purse and a great favorite), and slipped home, being myself much indisposed and harassed with going about, and sitting up to write.
3rd October, 1661. The next evening, while I was in the sitting room next to the bedroom, the King spotted me and came over from a large group of noblemen by the fire. He asked if I was done and mentioned he was worried it might be a bit too harsh upon second thought. Earlier that morning, he had spoken with the French Ambassador, who had downplayed the issue and seemed quite agreeable. So, he instructed me on where to soften a few sentences before it was published (which it later was). That night, he asked to see what was sent and requested I bring it to him in his bedroom, which I did, and I got it back from him during dinner the next day. By Saturday, after incorporating all his notes and with the King away, I sent the papers to Sir Henry Bennett (Privy-Purse and a close favorite) and went home, feeling quite unwell and exhausted from all the running around and staying up late to write.
19th October, 1661. I went to London to visit my Lord of Bristol, having been with Sir John Denham (his Majesty's surveyor) to consult with him about the placing of his palace at Greenwich, which I would have had built between the river and the Queen's house, so as a large square cut should have let in the Thames like a bay; but Sir John was for setting it on piles at the very brink of the water, which I did not assent to; and so[Pg 352] came away, knowing Sir John to be a better poet than architect, though he had Mr. Webb (Inigo Jones's man) to assist him.
19th October, 1661. I went to London to visit my Lord of Bristol, after meeting with Sir John Denham (the King's surveyor) to discuss the location of his palace at Greenwich. I wanted to build it between the river and the Queen's house, creating a large square that would open up to the Thames like a bay. However, Sir John preferred to construct it on piles right at the water's edge, which I didn't agree with; and so[Pg 352] I left, knowing that Sir John is a better poet than an architect, even though he had Mr. Webb (Inigo Jones's guy) helping him.
29th October, 1661. I saw the Lord Mayor pass in his water triumph to Westminster, being the first solemnity of this nature after twenty years.
29th October, 1661. I saw the Lord Mayor go by in his water procession to Westminster, marking the first event of this kind in twenty years.
2d November, 1661. Came Sir Henry Bennett, since Lord Arlington, to visit me, and to acquaint me that his Majesty would do me the honor to come and see my garden; but, it being then late, it was deferred.
2nd November, 1661. Sir Henry Bennett, now Lord Arlington, came to visit me and let me know that His Majesty would be honored to come and see my garden; however, since it was late, it was postponed.
3d November, 1661. One Mr. Breton preached his probation sermon at our parish church, and indeed made a most excellent discourse on John i. 29, of God's free grace to penitents, so that I could not but recommend him to the patron.
3rd November, 1661. Mr. Breton preached his probation sermon at our parish church, and he really gave an excellent talk on John 1:29 about God's free grace for those who repent, so I couldn't help but recommend him to the patron.
10th November, 1661. In the afternoon, preached at the Abbey Dr. Basire, that great traveler, or rather French Apostle, who had been planting the Church of England in divers parts of the Levant and Asia. He showed that the Church of England was, for purity of doctrine, substance, decency, and beauty, the most perfect under Heaven; that England was the very land of Goshen.
10th November, 1661. In the afternoon, Dr. Basire, that great traveler or rather French Apostle, preached at the Abbey. He had been establishing the Church of England in various parts of the Levant and Asia. He demonstrated that the Church of England was, in terms of doctrine, substance, decency, and beauty, the most perfect under Heaven; that England was truly the land of Goshen.
11th November, 1661. I was so idle as to go to see a play called "Love and Honor." Dined at Arundel House; and that evening discoursed with his Majesty about shipping, in which he was exceedingly skillful.
11th November, 1661. I was lazy enough to go watch a play called "Love and Honor." I had dinner at Arundel House; and that evening, I talked with his Majesty about shipping, where he was extremely knowledgeable.
15th November, 1661. I dined with the Duke of Ormond, who told me there were no moles in Ireland, nor any rats till of late, and that in but one county; but it was a mistake that spiders would not live there, only they were not poisonous. Also, that they frequently took salmon with dogs.
15th November, 1661. I had dinner with the Duke of Ormond, who told me that there were no moles in Ireland, and until recently, no rats either, but only in one county; however, it was a misconception that spiders couldn’t live there, just that they weren't poisonous. He also mentioned that they often caught salmon using dogs.
16th November, 1661. I presented my translation of "Naudæus concerning Libraries" to my Lord Chancellor; but it was miserably false printed.
16th November, 1661. I presented my translation of "Naudæus concerning Libraries" to my Lord Chancellor; but it was poorly printed.
17th November, 1661. Dr. Creighton, a Scot, author of the "Florentine Council," and a most eloquent man and admirable Grecian, preached on Cant. vi. 13, celebrating the return and restoration of the Church and King.
17th November, 1661. Dr. Creighton, a Scotsman, author of the "Florentine Council," and a very eloquent speaker and skilled Greek scholar, preached on Cant. vi. 13, celebrating the return and restoration of the Church and the King.
20th November, 1661. At the Royal Society, Sir William Petty proposed divers things for the improvement of shipping; a versatile keel that should be on hinges and concerning sheathing ships with thin lead.[Pg 353]
20th November, 1661. At the Royal Society, Sir William Petty suggested various ideas to improve shipping, including a flexible keel that would be on hinges and the idea of sheathing ships with thin lead.[Pg 353]
24th November, 1661. This night his Majesty fell into discourse with me concerning bees, etc.
24th November, 1661. Tonight, His Majesty engaged in a conversation with me about bees, etc.
26th November, 1661. I saw "Hamlet, Prince of Denmark" played; but now the old plays began to disgust this refined age, since his Majesty's being so long abroad.
26th November, 1661. I watched "Hamlet, Prince of Denmark" performed; however, the classic plays started to lose their appeal in this sophisticated time, especially with His Majesty being away for so long.
28th November, 1661. I dined at Chiffinch's house-warming, in St. James's Park; he was his Majesty's closet-keeper, and had his new house full of good pictures, etc. There dined with us Russell, Popish Bishop of Cape Verd, who was sent out to negotiate his Majesty's match with the Infanta of Portugal, after the Ambassador was returned.
28th November, 1661. I had dinner at Chiffinch's housewarming in St. James's Park; he was the King's closet-keeper and had his new house filled with great paintings, and so on. Joining us for dinner were Russell, the Catholic Bishop of Cape Verde, who had been sent out to negotiate the King's marriage with the Infanta of Portugal, after the Ambassador had returned.
29th November, 1661. I dined at the Countess of Peterborough's and went that evening to Parson's Green with my Lord Mordaunt, with whom I stayed that night.
29th November, 1661. I had dinner at the Countess of Peterborough's and that evening went to Parson's Green with Lord Mordaunt, with whom I stayed that night.
1st December, 1661. I took leave of my Lord Peterborough, going now to Tangier, which was to be delivered to the English on the match with Portugal.
1st December, 1661. I said goodbye to my Lord Peterborough, as I was now heading to Tangier, which was to be handed over to the English according to the agreement with Portugal.
3d December, 1661. By universal suffrage of our philosophic assembly, an order was made and registered that I should receive their public thanks for the honorable mention I made of them by the name of Royal Society, in my Epistle dedicatory to the Lord Chancellor, before my Traduction of Naudæus. Too great an honor for a trifle.
3rd December, 1661. By the collective agreement of our philosophical group, it was decided and officially recorded that I should receive their public gratitude for the distinguished reference I gave them as the Royal Society in my dedication to the Lord Chancellor, prior to my translation of Naudæus. A far too great honor for something trivial.
4th December, 1661. I had much discourse with the Duke of York, concerning strange cures he affirmed of a woman who swallowed a whole ear of barley, which worked out at her side. I told him of the KNIFE SWALLOWED69 and the pins.
4th December, 1661. I had a long conversation with the Duke of York about some strange remedies he claimed involved a woman who swallowed an entire ear of barley, which then came out of her side. I mentioned the Knife swallowed69 and the pins.
I took leave of the Bishop of Cape Verd, now going in the fleet to bring over our new Queen.
I said goodbye to the Bishop of Cape Verd, who is now heading out with the fleet to bring home our new Queen.
7th December, 1661. I dined at Arundel House, the day when the great contest in Parliament was concerning the restoring the Duke of Norfolk; however, it was carried for him. I also presented my little trifle[Pg 354] of Sumptuary Laws, entitled "Tyrannus" [or "The Mode"].
7th December, 1661. I had lunch at Arundel House on the day when the big debate in Parliament was about reinstating the Duke of Norfolk; in the end, it was approved for him. I also shared my small effort on Sumptuary Laws, called "Tyrannus" [or "The Mode"].[Pg 354]
14th December, 1661. I saw otter hunting with the King, and killed one.
14th December, 1661. I went otter hunting with the King and caught one.
16th December, 1661. I saw a French comedy acted at Whitehall.
16th December, 1661. I watched a French play performed at Whitehall.
20th December, 1661. The Bishop of Gloucester preached at the Abbey at the funeral of the Bishop of Hereford, brother to the Duke of Albemarle. It was a decent solemnity. There was a silver miter, with episcopal robes, borne by the herald before the hearse, which was followed by the Duke his brother, and all the bishops, with divers noblemen.
20th December, 1661. The Bishop of Gloucester preached at the Abbey during the funeral of the Bishop of Hereford, who was the brother of the Duke of Albemarle. It was a respectful ceremony. A silver miter and episcopal robes were carried by the herald in front of the hearse, followed by the Duke, his brother, and all the bishops, along with various noblemen.
23d December, 1661. I heard an Italian play and sing to the guitar with extraordinary skill before the Duke.
23rd December, 1661. I listened to an Italian perform and sing to the guitar with amazing skill in front of the Duke.
1st January, 1661-62. I went to London, invited to the solemn foolery of the Prince de la Grange, at Lincoln's-Inn, where came the King, Duke, etc. It began with a grand masque, and a formal pleading before the mock Princes, Grandees, Nobles, and Knights of the Sun. He had his Lord Chancellor, Chamberlain, Treasurer, and other Royal Officers, gloriously clad and attended. It ended in a magnificent banquet. One Mr. Lort was the young spark who maintained the pageantry.
1st January, 1661-62. I went to London, invited to the grand spectacle of the Prince de la Grange at Lincoln's Inn, where the King, Duke, and others attended. It started with an elaborate masquerade, followed by a formal mock trial before the pretend Princes, Grandees, Nobles, and Knights of the Sun. He had his Lord Chancellor, Chamberlain, Treasurer, and other Royal Officers, all dressed in splendid attire and accompanied by attendants. It concluded with a lavish banquet. A young man named Mr. Lort was the one who upheld the lavishness of the event.
6th January, 1662. This evening, according to custom, his Majesty opened the revels of that night by throwing the dice himself in the privy chamber, where was a table set on purpose, and lost his £100. (The year before he won £1,500.) The ladies also played very deep. I came away when the Duke of Ormond had won about £1,000, and left them still at passage, cards, etc. At other tables, both there and at the groom-porter's, observing the wicked folly and monstrous excess of passion among some losers; sorry am I that such a wretched custom as play to that excess should be countenanced in a Court, which ought to be an example of virtue to the rest of the kingdom.
6th January, 1662. This evening, as usual, his Majesty started the festivities by throwing the dice himself in the private chamber, where a table was set up for the occasion, and lost £100. (The year before, he won £1,500.) The ladies also played quite fiercely. I left when the Duke of Ormond had won about £1,000 and left them still playing passage, cards, etc. At other tables, both there and at the groom-porter's, I observed the reckless foolishness and extreme passion among some losers; it troubles me that such a miserable custom as gambling to that extent is tolerated in a Court, which should set an example of virtue for the rest of the kingdom.
9th January, 1662. I saw acted "The Third Part of the Siege of Rhodes." In this acted the fair and famous comedian called Roxalana from the part she performed; and I think it was the last, she being taken to be the Earl of Oxford's Miss (as at this time they began to call lewd women). It was in recitative music.[Pg 355]
9th January, 1662. I saw "The Third Part of the Siege of Rhodes" performed. In this, the beautiful and well-known actress named Roxalana played a significant role; I believe it was her last performance, as she was considered the Earl of Oxford’s Ms. (which is what they started calling promiscuous women at that time). It featured recitative music.[Pg 355]
10th January, 1662. Being called into his Majesty's closet when Mr. Cooper, the rare limner, was crayoning of the King's face and head, to make the stamps for the new milled money now contriving, I had the honor to hold the candle while it was doing, he choosing the night and candlelight for the better finding out the shadows. During this, his Majesty discoursed with me on several things relating to painting and graving.
10th January, 1662. I was summoned to the King's private chamber while Mr. Cooper, the talented painter, was drawing the King’s face and head to create stamps for the new milled money that was being planned. I had the honor of holding the candle while he worked, as he preferred the night and candlelight to better capture the shadows. During this time, the King talked with me about various topics related to painting and engraving.
11th January, 1662. I dined at Arundel House, where I heard excellent music performed by the ablest masters, both French and English, on theorbos, viols, organs, and voices, as an exercise against the coming of the Queen, purposely composed for her chapel. Afterward, my Lord Aubigny (her Majesty's Almoner to be) showed us his elegant lodging, and his wheel-chair for ease and motion, with divers other curiosities; especially a kind of artificial glass, or porcelain, adorned with relievos of paste, hard and beautiful. Lord Aubigny (brother to the Duke of Lennox) was a person of good sense, but wholly abandoned to ease and effeminacy.
11th January, 1662. I had dinner at Arundel House, where I listened to amazing music played by the best masters, both French and English, on theorbos, viols, organs, and voices, as a performance in anticipation of the Queen's arrival, specifically composed for her chapel. Afterwards, my Lord Aubigny (her Majesty's future Almoner) showed us his stylish accommodations and his wheelchair for comfort and mobility, along with various other curiosities; especially a type of artificial glass or porcelain, decorated with lovely, raised designs. Lord Aubigny (brother to the Duke of Lennox) was a sensible man, but completely devoted to comfort and luxury.
I received of Sir Peter Ball, the Queen's attorney, a draft of an Act against the nuisance of the smoke of London, to be reformed by removing several trades which are the cause of it, and endanger the health of the King and his people. It was to have been offered to the Parliament, as his Majesty commanded.
I got a draft of a law from Sir Peter Ball, the Queen's attorney, aimed at tackling the problem of smoke in London. The plan was to fix this by getting rid of certain trades that are causing it and putting the King and his people's health at risk. This was supposed to be presented to Parliament, as the King ordered.
12th January, 1662. At St. James's chapel preached, or rather harangued, the famous orator, Monsieur Morus, in French. There were present the King, Duke, French Ambassador, Lord Aubigny, Earl of Bristol, and a world of Roman Catholics, drawn thither to hear this eloquent Protestant.
12th January, 1662. At St. James's chapel, the famous speaker, Monsieur Morus, preached—or rather gave a lengthy speech—in French. There were present the King, the Duke, the French Ambassador, Lord Aubigny, the Earl of Bristol, and a large crowd of Roman Catholics gathered to hear this eloquent Protestant.
15th January, 1662. There was a general fast through the whole nation, and now celebrated in London, to avert God's heavy judgments on this land. Great rain had fallen without any frost, or seasonable cold, not only in England, but in Sweden, and the most northern parts, being here near as warm as at midsummer in some years.
15th January, 1662. There was a nationwide day of fasting, also observed in London, to seek God's mercy and prevent severe judgments on the land. There had been heavy rain without frost or any typical cold weather, not just in England but also in Sweden and the northern regions, where it was almost as warm as during midsummer in some years.
This solemn fast was held for the House of Commons at St. Margaret's. Dr. Reeves, Dean of Windsor, preached on Joshua vii. 12, showing how the neglect of exacting justice on offenders (by which he insinuated such of the old King's murderers as were yet reprieved[Pg 356] and in the Tower) was a main cause of God's punishing a land. He brought in that of the Gibeonites, as well as Achan and others, concluding with an eulogy of the Parliament for their loyalty in restoring the Bishops and Clergy, and vindicating the Church from sacrilege.
This serious fast was observed for the House of Commons at St. Margaret's. Dr. Reeves, the Dean of Windsor, preached on Joshua 7:12, highlighting how failing to seek justice against wrongdoers (referring to some of the old King’s murderers who were still given clemency and held in the Tower) was a major reason for God punishing a nation. He referenced the case of the Gibeonites, as well as Achan and others, and concluded with praise for Parliament for their loyalty in restoring the Bishops and Clergy, and defending the Church against sacrilege.[Pg 356]
16th January, 1662. Having notice of the Duke of York's intention to visit my poor habitation and garden this day, I returned, when he was pleased to do me that honor of his own accord, and to stay some time viewing such things as I had to entertain his curiosity. Afterward he caused me to dine with him at the Treasurer of the Navy's house, and to sit with him covered at the same table. There were his Highness, the Duke of Ormond, and several Lords. Then they viewed some of my grounds about a project for a receptacle for ships to be moored in, which was laid aside as a fancy of Sir Nicholas Crisp. After this, I accompanied the Duke to an East India vessel that lay at Blackwall, where we had entertainment of several curiosities. Among other spirituous drinks, as punch, etc., they gave us Canary that had been carried to and brought from the Indies, which was indeed incomparably good. I returned to London with his Highness. This night was acted before his Majesty "The Widow," a lewd play.
16th January, 1662. I learned that the Duke of York planned to visit my humble home and garden today. I returned just in time for him to honor me with his presence and spend some time exploring what I had to pique his interest. Later, he invited me to dine with him at the house of the Treasurer of the Navy, where I had the privilege of sitting with him at the same table while wearing my hat. There were his Highness, the Duke of Ormond, and several Lords. Afterwards, they looked over some of my land regarding a project for a place to moor ships, which had been dismissed as a mere idea of Sir Nicholas Crisp. Following this, I went with the Duke to an East India ship docked at Blackwall, where we were treated to various curiosities. Among other drinks, including punch and so on, we were served some Canary wine that had been taken to and brought back from the Indies, which was truly exceptional. I returned to London with his Highness. That evening, "The Widow," an inappropriate play, was performed before his Majesty.
18th January, 1662. I came home to be private a little, not at all affecting the life and hurry of Court.
18th January, 1662. I came home to have some private time, not affecting the life and hustle of the Court at all.
24th January, 1662. His Majesty entertained me with his intentions of building his Palace of Greenwich, and quite demolishing the old one; on which I declared my thoughts.
24th January, 1662. His Majesty shared with me his plans for building the Palace of Greenwich, completely tearing down the old one; to which I expressed my thoughts.
25th January, 1662. I dined with the Trinity Company at their house, that corporation being by charter fixed at Deptford.
25th January, 1662. I had lunch with the Trinity Company at their place, as that organization is officially based in Deptford.
3d February, 1662. I went to Chelsea, to see Sir Arthur Gorges' house.
3rd February, 1662. I went to Chelsea to visit Sir Arthur Gorges' house.
11th February, 1662. I saw a comedy acted before the Duchess of York at the Cockpit. The King was not at it.
11th February, 1662. I watched a comedy performed for the Duchess of York at the Cockpit. The King wasn't there.
17th February, 1662. I went with my Lord of Bristol to see his house at Wimbledon, newly bought of the Queen-Mother, to help contrive the garden after the modern. It is a delicious place for prospect and the thickets, but the soil cold and weeping clay. Returned that evening with Sir Henry Bennett.[Pg 357]
17th February, 1662. I went with my Lord of Bristol to check out his newly purchased house in Wimbledon from the Queen-Mother, to help design the garden in a modern style. It's a lovely place for views and the greenery, but the soil is cold and damp clay. I returned that evening with Sir Henry Bennett.[Pg 357]
This night was buried in Westminster Abbey the Queen of Bohemia, after all her sorrows and afflictions being come to die in the arms of her nephew, the King; also this night and the next day fell such a storm of hail, thunder, and lightning, as never was seen the like in any man's memory, especially the tempest of wind, being southwest, which subverted, besides huge trees, many houses, innumerable chimneys (among others that of my parlor at Sayes Court), and made such havoc at land and sea, that several perished on both. Divers lamentable fires were also kindled at this time; so exceedingly was God's hand against this ungrateful and vicious nation and Court.
This night, the Queen of Bohemia was buried in Westminster Abbey. After all her sorrows and struggles, she passed away in the arms of her nephew, the King. On this night and the following day, an incredible storm of hail, thunder, and lightning hit, unlike anything anyone could remember. The wind, coming from the southwest, was so powerful that it uprooted large trees, destroyed many houses, and knocked down countless chimneys, including the one from my parlor at Sayes Court. The devastation on both land and sea was so severe that many perished. Numerous tragic fires also broke out during this time; God's wrath was truly against this ungrateful and wicked nation and Court.
20th February, 1662. I returned home to repair my house, miserably shattered by the late tempest.
20th February, 1662. I came back home to fix my house, which was badly damaged by the recent storm.
24th March, 1662. I returned home with my whole family, which had been most part of the winter, since October, at London, in lodgings near the Abbey of Westminster.
24th March, 1662. I came home with my entire family, who had spent most of the winter, since October, in a place near Westminster Abbey in London.
6th April, 1662. Being of the Vestry, in the afternoon we ordered that the communion-table should be set (as usual) altar-wise, with a decent rail in front, as before the Rebellion.
6th April, 1662. As members of the Vestry, in the afternoon we decided that the communion table should be arranged (as usual) in an altar style, with a decent railing in front, just like it was before the Rebellion.
17th April, 1662. The young Marquis of Argyle, whose turbulent father was executed in Scotland, came to see my garden. He seemed a man of parts.
17th April, 1662. The young Marquis of Argyle, whose troubled father was executed in Scotland, visited my garden. He appeared to be a man of substance.
7th May, 1662. I waited on Prince Rupert to our Assembly where were tried several experiments in Mr. Boyle's VACUUM. A man thrusting in his arm, upon exhaustion of the air, had his flesh immediately swelled so as the blood was near bursting the veins: he drawing it out, we found it all speckled.
7th May, 1662. I visited Prince Rupert at our meeting where we tried several experiments in Mr. Boyle's Clean with a vacuum.. A man thrust his arm in, and when the air was removed, his flesh immediately swelled up so much that it looked like the blood was about to burst through the veins. When he pulled it out, we saw that it was all speckled.
14th May, 1662. To London, being chosen one of the Commissioners for reforming the buildings, ways, streets, and incumbrances, and regulating the hackney coaches in the city of London, taking my oath before my Lord Chancellor, and then went to his Majesty's Surveyor's office, in Scotland Yard, about naming and establishing officers, adjourning till the 16th, when I went to view how St. Martin's Lane might be made more passable into the Strand. There were divers gentlemen of quality in this commission.
14th May, 1662. I went to London after being chosen as one of the Commissioners to improve the buildings, roads, streets, and other obstacles, and to regulate the hackney coaches in the city. I took my oath before my Lord Chancellor, and then went to the King’s Surveyor's office in Scotland Yard to discuss naming and establishing officers. We adjourned until the 16th, when I went to see how to make St. Martin's Lane more accessible to the Strand. There were several gentlemen of distinction on this commission.
25th May, 1662. I went this evening to London, in[Pg 358] order to our journey to Hampton Court, to see the Queen; who, having landed at Portsmouth, had been married to the King a week before by the Bishop of London.
25th May, 1662. I went to London this evening, in[Pg 358] preparation for our trip to Hampton Court, to see the Queen; who, after arriving at Portsmouth, had been married to the King a week earlier by the Bishop of London.
30th May, 1662. The Queen arrived with a train of Portuguese ladies in their monstrous fardingales, or guard-infantes, their complexions olivader70 and sufficiently unagreeable. Her Majesty in the same habit, her foretop long and turned aside very strangely. She was yet of the handsomest countenance of all the rest, and, though low of stature, prettily shaped, languishing and excellent eyes, her teeth wronging her mouth by sticking a little too far out; for the rest, lovely enough.
30th May, 1662. The Queen arrived with a group of Portuguese ladies wearing their extravagant fardingales or guard-infantes, their skin tones a bit olive and not very pleasant. Her Majesty was dressed in the same style, with her hair long and styled oddly to the side. She was still the most beautiful of them all, and although short in height, she had a lovely figure, captivating and expressive eyes, and her teeth stuck out just a bit too much. Overall, she was quite lovely.
31st May, 1662. I saw the Queen at dinner; the Judges came to compliment her arrival, and, after them, the Duke of Ormond brought me to kiss her hand.
31st May, 1662. I saw the Queen at dinner; the Judges came to congratulate her on her arrival, and, after them, the Duke of Ormond brought me to kiss her hand.
2d June, 1662. The Lord Mayor and Aldermen made their addresses to the Queen, presenting her £1,000 in gold. Now saw I her Portuguese ladies, and the Guardadamas, or mother of her maids,71 and the old knight, a lock of whose hair quite covered the rest of his bald pate, bound on by a thread, very oddly. I saw the rich gondola sent to his Majesty from the State of Venice; but it was not comparable for swiftness to our common wherries, though managed by Venetians.
2nd June, 1662. The Lord Mayor and Aldermen spoke to the Queen, presenting her with £1,000 in gold. I noticed her Portuguese ladies, and the Guardadamas, or the head of her maids, and the old knight, who had a lock of hair that completely covered his bald head, held in place by a thread, which looked quite odd. I saw the luxurious gondola sent to His Majesty from the State of Venice; however, it couldn't match the speed of our regular wherries, even though it was operated by Venetians.
4th June, 1662. Went to visit the Earl of Bristol, at Wimbledon.
4th June, 1662. Visited the Earl of Bristol at Wimbledon.
8th June, 1662. I saw her Majesty at supper privately in her bedchamber.
8th June, 1662. I saw her Majesty having supper privately in her bedroom.
9th June, 1662. I heard the Queen's Portugal music, consisting of pipes, harps, and very ill voices.
9th June, 1662. I listened to the Queen's Portuguese music, featuring flutes, harps, and some pretty terrible singers.
Hampton Court is as noble and uniform a pile, and as capacious as any Gothic architecture can have made it. There is an incomparable furniture in it, especially hangings designed by Raphael, very rich with gold; also many rare pictures, especially the Cæsarean Triumphs of[Pg 359] Andrea Mantegna, formerly the Duke of Mantua's; of the tapestries, I believe the world can show nothing nobler of the kind than the stories of Abraham and Tobit. The gallery of horns is very particular for the vast beams of stags, elks, antelopes, etc. The Queen's bed was an embroidery of silver on crimson velvet, and cost £8,000, being a present made by the States of Holland when his Majesty returned, and had formerly been given by them to our King's sister, the Princess of Orange, and, being bought of her again, was now presented to the King. The great looking-glass and toilet, of beaten and massive gold, was given by the Queen-Mother. The Queen brought over with her from Portugal such Indian cabinets as had never before been seen here. The great hall is a most magnificent room. The chapel roof excellently fretted and gilt. I was also curious to visit the wardrobe and tents, and other furniture of state. The park, formerly a flat and naked piece of ground, now planted with sweet rows of lime trees; and the canal for water now near perfected; also the air-park. In the garden is a rich and noble fountain, with Sirens, statues, etc., cast in copper, by Fanelli; but no plenty of water. The cradle-work of horn beam in the garden is, for the perplexed twining of the trees, very observable. There is a parterre which they call Paradise, in which is a pretty banqueting-house set over a cave, or cellar. All these gardens might be exceedingly improved, as being too narrow for such a palace.
Hampton Court is a grand and cohesive structure, as spacious as any Gothic architecture can be. Inside, it features incomparable furniture, especially hangings designed by Raphael, richly adorned with gold. There are also many rare paintings, notably the Cæsarean Triumphs of[Pg 359] Andrea Mantegna, which belonged to the Duke of Mantua. Regarding the tapestries, I believe the world can show nothing finer than the stories of Abraham and Tobit. The gallery of horns is particularly impressive with its large beams of stags, elks, antelopes, and more. The Queen's bed was embroidered with silver on crimson velvet and cost £8,000; it was a gift from the States of Holland when His Majesty returned and had previously been given to our King's sister, the Princess of Orange, before being repurchased and now presented to the King. The grand mirror and dressing table, made of beaten and solid gold, were gifts from the Queen Mother. The Queen also brought stunning Indian cabinets from Portugal that had never been seen here before. The great hall is a magnificent space, and the chapel roof is exquisitely carved and gilded. I was also eager to see the wardrobe, tents, and other state furnishings. The park, which was once flat and bare, is now planted with lovely rows of lime trees, and the water canal is almost completed, along with the air park. In the garden, there is an elegant fountain adorned with copper Sirens and statues, crafted by Fanelli, though it lacks a sufficient water supply. The hornbeam lattice in the garden is notable for the intricate twisting of the trees. There's a parterre they call Paradise, which includes a charming banqueting house set over a cave or cellar. All these gardens could be significantly enhanced as they are too small for such a palace.
10th June, 1662. I returned to London, and presented my "History of Chalcography" (dedicated to Mr. Boyle) to our Society.72
10th June, 1662. I came back to London and submitted my "History of Chalcography" (dedicated to Mr. Boyle) to our Society.72
19 June, 1662. I went to Albury, to visit Mr. Henry Howard, soon after he had procured the Dukedom to be restored. This gentleman had now compounded a debt of £200,000, contracted by his grandfather. I was much obliged to that great virtuoso, and to this young gentleman, with whom I stayed a fortnight.
19 June, 1662. I went to Albury to visit Mr. Henry Howard, shortly after he had arranged for the Dukedom to be restored. This gentleman had now settled a debt of £200,000 incurred by his grandfather. I was very grateful to that great expert and to this young man, with whom I stayed for two weeks.
2d July, 1662. We hunted and killed a buck in the park, Mr. Howard inviting most of the gentlemen of the country near him.
2d July, 1662. We tracked down and killed a buck in the park, with Mr. Howard inviting most of the local gentlemen.
3d July, 1662. My wife met me at Woodcot, whither Mr. Howard accompanied me to see my son John, who[Pg 360] had been much brought up among Mr. Howard's children at Arundel House, till, for fear of their perverting him in the Catholic religion, I was forced to take him home.
3rd July, 1662. My wife met me at Woodcot, where Mr. Howard joined me to see my son John, who[Pg 360] had been spending a lot of time with Mr. Howard's children at Arundel House, until I had to bring him home out of concern that they might influence him towards Catholicism.
8th July, 1662. To London, to take leave of the Duke and Duchess of Ormond, going then into Ireland with an extraordinary retinue.
8th July, 1662. To London, to say goodbye to the Duke and Duchess of Ormond, who are then going to Ireland with a remarkable entourage.
13th July, 1662. Spent some time with the Lord Chancellor, where I had discourse with my Lord Willoughby, Governor of Barbadoes, concerning divers particulars of that colony.
13th July, 1662. I spent some time with the Lord Chancellor, having a conversation with my Lord Willoughby, the Governor of Barbados, about various details of that colony.
28th July, 1662. His Majesty going to sea to meet the Queen-Mother, now coming again for England, met with such ill weather as greatly endangered him. I went to Greenwich, to wait on the Queen, now landed.
28th July, 1662. The King went to sea to meet the Queen-Mother, who was returning to England, and encountered such bad weather that it seriously endangered him. I went to Greenwich to see the Queen, who had just landed.
30th July, 1662. To London, where was a meeting about Charitable Uses, and particularly to inquire how the city had disposed of the revenues of Gresham College, and why the salaries of the professors there were no better improved. I was on this commission, with divers Bishops and Lords of the Council; but little was the progress we could make.
30th July, 1662. To London, where there was a meeting about Charitable Uses, specifically to investigate how the city had managed the revenues of Gresham College and why the professors' salaries were not better. I was on this commission, along with several Bishops and Lords of the Council; however, we made little progress.
31st July, 1662. I sat with the Commissioners about reforming buildings and streets of London, and we ordered the paving of the way from St. James's North, which was a quagmire, and also of the Haymarket about Piqudillo [Piccadilly], and agreed upon instructions to be printed and published for the better keeping the streets clean.
31st July, 1662. I met with the Commissioners about improving the buildings and streets of London, and we decided to pave the road from St. James's North, which was a muddy mess, as well as the Haymarket around Piccadilly, and we agreed on instructions to be printed and published for keeping the streets cleaner.
1st August, 1662. Mr. H. Howard, his brothers Charles, Edward, Bernard, Philip,73 now the Queen's Almoner (all brothers of the Duke of Norfolk, still in Italy), came with a great train, and dined with me; Mr. H. Howard leaving with me his eldest and youngest sons, Henry and Thomas, for three or four days, my son, John, having been sometime bred up in their father's house.
1st August, 1662. Mr. H. Howard, along with his brothers Charles, Edward, Bernard, and Philip, now the Queen's Almoner (all brothers of the Duke of Norfolk, who is still in Italy), arrived with a large group and had dinner with me. Mr. H. Howard left his eldest and youngest sons, Henry and Thomas, with me for three or four days since my son, John, had been raised in their father's household.
4th August, 1662. Came to see me the old Countess of Devonshire, with that excellent and worthy person, my Lord her son, from Roehampton.
4th August, 1662. The old Countess of Devonshire came to visit me, along with her noble and admirable son, my Lord, from Roehampton.
5th August, 1662. To London, and next day to Hampton Court, about my purchase, and took leave of Sir R. Fanshawe, now going Ambassador to Portugal.
5th August, 1662. Went to London, and the next day to Hampton Court regarding my purchase, and said goodbye to Sir R. Fanshawe, who is now heading to Portugal as Ambassador.
13th August, 1662. Our Charter being now passed[Pg 361] under the broad Seal, constituting us a corporation under the name of the Royal Society for the improvement of natural knowledge by experiment, was this day read and was all that was done this afternoon, being very large.
13th August, 1662. Our Charter has now been approved[Pg 361] under the Great Seal, officially establishing us as a corporation named the Royal Society for the advancement of natural knowledge through experiments. It was read today and was all that took place this afternoon, as it was quite extensive.
14th August, 1662. I sat on the commission for Charitable Uses, the Lord Mayor and others of the Mercers' Company being summoned, to answer some complaints of the Professors, grounded on a clause in the will of Sir Thomas Gresham, the founder.
14th August, 1662. I was part of the commission for Charitable Uses, with the Lord Mayor and other members of the Mercers' Company being called in to respond to some complaints from the Professors, which were based on a clause in the will of Sir Thomas Gresham, the founder.
This afternoon, the Queen-Mother, with the Earl of St. Alban's and many great ladies and persons, was pleased to honor my poor villa with her presence, and to accept of a collation. She was exceedingly pleased, and staid till very late in the evening.
This afternoon, the Queen Mother, along with the Earl of St. Alban and many distinguished ladies and guests, generously honored my humble villa with her presence and accepted a light meal. She was very pleased and stayed until quite late in the evening.
15th August, 1662. Came my Lord Chancellor (the Earl of Clarendon) and his lady, his purse and mace borne before him, to visit me. They were likewise collationed with us, and were very merry. They had all been our old acquaintance in exile, and indeed this great person had ever been my friend. His son, Lord Cornbury, was here, too.
15th August, 1662. My Lord Chancellor (the Earl of Clarendon) and his wife came to visit me, with his purse and mace carried in front of him. They joined us for a meal and had a great time. They were all old friends from our time in exile, and this important person has always been my friend. His son, Lord Cornbury, was also here.
17th August, 1662. Being the Sunday when the Common Prayer Book, reformed and ordered to be used for the future, was appointed to be read, and the solemn League and Covenant to be abjured by all the incumbents of England under penalty of losing their livings; our vicar read it this morning.
17th August, 1662. This Sunday was designated for the new Common Prayer Book to be read, and all clergy in England were required to reject the solemn League and Covenant, with the risk of losing their positions; our vicar read it this morning.
20th August, 1662. There were strong guards in the city this day, apprehending some tumults, many of the Presbyterian ministers not conforming. I dined with the Vice-Chamberlain, and then went to see the Queen-Mother, who was pleased to give me many thanks for the entertainment she received at my house, when she recounted to me many observable stories of the sagacity of some dogs she formerly had.
20th August, 1662. There were heavy guards in the city today due to some unrest, as many Presbyterian ministers were not conforming. I had lunch with the Vice-Chamberlain, and afterwards went to see the Queen-Mother, who kindly thanked me for the hospitality she received at my house. She shared with me several interesting stories about the cleverness of some dogs she had in the past.
21st August, 1662. I was admitted and then sworn one of the Council of the Royal Society, being nominated in his Majesty's original grant to be of this Council for the regulation of the Society, and making laws and statutes conducible to its establishment and progress, for which we now set apart every Wednesday morning till they were all finished. Lord Viscount[Pg 362] Brouncker (that excellent mathematician) was also by his Majesty, our founder, nominated our first President. The King gave us the arms of England to be borne in a canton in our arms, and sent us a mace of silver gilt, of the same fashion and size as those carried before his Majesty, to be borne before our president on meeting days. It was brought by Sir Gilbert Talbot, master of his Majesty's jewel house.
21st August, 1662. I was admitted and then sworn in as a member of the Council of the Royal Society, having been nominated in the original grant from His Majesty to be part of this Council for overseeing the Society and creating laws and rules for its establishment and growth, for which we now set aside every Wednesday morning until they were all completed. Lord Viscount[Pg 362] Brouncker (that brilliant mathematician) was also appointed by His Majesty, our founder, as our first President. The King provided us with the arms of England to feature in a canton of our coat of arms and sent us a gilt silver mace, in the same style and size as those carried before His Majesty, to be held in front of our president on meeting days. Sir Gilbert Talbot, master of the King's jewel house, delivered it.
22d August, 1662. I dined with my Lord Brouncker and Sir Robert Murray, and then went to consult about a newly modeled ship at Lambeth, the intention being to reduce that art to as certain a method as any other part of architecture.
22nd August, 1662. I had lunch with Lord Brouncker and Sir Robert Murray, and then went to discuss a newly designed ship at Lambeth, aiming to make that craft as systematic as any other area of architecture.
23d August, 1662. I was spectator of the most magnificent triumph that ever floated on the Thames, considering the innumerable boats and vessels, dressed and adorned with all imaginable pomp, but, above all, the thrones, arches, pageants, and other representations, stately barges of the Lord Mayor and companies, with various inventions, music, and peals of ordnance both from the vessels and the shore, going to meet and conduct the new Queen from Hampton Court to Whitehall, at the first time of her coming to town. In my opinion, it far exceeded all the Venetian Bucentoras, etc., on the Ascension, when they go to espouse the Adriatic. His Majesty and the Queen came in an antique-shaped open vessel, covered with a state, or canopy, of cloth of gold, made in form of a cupola, supported with high Corinthian pillars, wreathed with flowers, festoons and garlands. I was in our newly built vessel, sailing among them.
23rd August, 1662. I witnessed the most magnificent parade ever to float on the Thames, with countless boats and ships decorated with every kind of splendor. Above all were the thrones, arches, pageants, and other displays, the grand barges of the Lord Mayor and his companies, featuring various inventions, music, and cannon fire from both the vessels and the shore, all going to greet and escort the new Queen from Hampton Court to Whitehall on her first visit to the city. In my view, it surpassed all the Venetian Bucentoras, etc., during the Ascension when they go to wed the Adriatic. His Majesty and the Queen arrived in an elegantly shaped open boat, covered with a canopy of gold cloth in the form of a dome, supported by tall Corinthian pillars, adorned with flowers, festoons, and garlands. I was on our newly built vessel, sailing among them.
29th August, 1662. The Council and Fellows of the Royal Society went in a body to Whitehall, to acknowledge his Majesty's royal grace in granting our Charter, and vouchsafing to be himself our founder; when the President made an eloquent speech, to which his Majesty gave a gracious reply and we all kissed his hand. Next day we went in like manner with our address to my Lord Chancellor, who had much promoted our patent: he received us with extraordinary favor. In the evening I went to the Queen-Mother's Court, and had much discourse with her.
29th August, 1662. The Council and Fellows of the Royal Society went together to Whitehall to express our gratitude for the King’s royal favor in granting our Charter and for agreeing to be our founder. The President delivered an eloquent speech, to which the King gave a kind response, and we all kissed his hand. The next day, we similarly presented our thanks to my Lord Chancellor, who had greatly supported our patent; he welcomed us with exceptional warmth. In the evening, I went to the Queen-Mother's Court and had a lengthy conversation with her.
1st September, 1662. Being invited by Lord Berkeley, I went to Durdans, where dined his Majesty, the Queen,[Pg 363] Duke, Duchess, Prince Rupert, Prince Edward, and abundance of noblemen. I went, after dinner, to visit my brother of Woodcot, my sister having been delivered of a son a little before, but who had now been two days dead.
1st September, 1662. After being invited by Lord Berkeley, I went to Durdans, where the King, the Queen, the Duke, the Duchess, Prince Rupert, Prince Edward, and a lot of nobles had lunch. After dinner, I went to visit my brother at Woodcot, since my sister had recently given birth to a son who had unfortunately passed away two days earlier.
4th September, 1662. Commission for Charitable Uses, my Lord Mayor and Aldermen being again summoned, and the improvements of Sir Thomas Gresham's estate examined. There were present the Bishop of London, the Lord Chief Justice, and the King's attorney.
4th September, 1662. Commission for Charitable Uses, my Lord Mayor and Aldermen were once again called together to review the improvements of Sir Thomas Gresham's estate. Present were the Bishop of London, the Lord Chief Justice, and the King's attorney.
6th September, 1662. Dined with me Sir Edward Walker, Garter King-at-Arms, Mr. Slingsby, master of the Mint, and several others.
6th September, 1662. Had dinner with Sir Edward Walker, Garter King-at-Arms, Mr. Slingsby, master of the Mint, and several others.
17th September, 1662. We now resolved that the Arms of the Society should be a field argent, with a canton of the arms of England; the supporters two talbots argent; crest, an eagle Or holding a shield with the like arms of England, viz, three lions. The words "Nullius in verbâ." It was presented to his Majesty for his approbation, and orders given to Garter King-at-Arms to pass the diploma of their office for it.
17th September, 1662. We have decided that the emblem of the Society should be a silver field with a corner of the arms of England; the supporters will be two silver talbots; the crest will be an eagle in gold holding a shield featuring the same arms of England, which includes three lions. The words "Nullius in verbâ." It was presented to His Majesty for his approval, and orders were given to Garter King-at-Arms to finalize the diploma for this.
20th September, 1662. I presented a petition to his Majesty about my own concerns, and afterward accompanied him to Monsieur Febure his chemist (and who had formerly been my master in Paris), to see his accurate preparation for the composing Sir Walter Raleigh's rare cordial: he made a learned discourse before his Majesty in French on each ingredient.
20th September, 1662. I submitted a petition to his Majesty regarding my own issues, and afterwards accompanied him to Monsieur Febure, his chemist (who had previously been my teacher in Paris), to watch his precise preparation of Sir Walter Raleigh's unique cordial: he gave an informative talk in French about each ingredient before his Majesty.
27th September, 1662. Came to visit me Sir George Saville, grandson to the learned Sir Henry Saville, who published St. Chrysostom. Sir George was a witty gentleman, if not a little too prompt and daring.
27th September, 1662. Sir George Saville, the grandson of the learned Sir Henry Saville who published St. Chrysostom, came to visit me. Sir George was a clever guy, though he was a bit too quick and bold at times.
3d October, 1662. I was invited to the College of Physicians, where Dr. Meret, a learned man and library-keeper, showed me the library, theater for anatomy, and divers natural curiosities; the statue and epigram under it of that renowned physician, Dr. Harvey, discoverer of the circulation of the blood. There I saw Dr. Gilbert, Sir William Paddy's and other pictures of men famous in their faculty.
3rd October, 1662. I was invited to the College of Physicians, where Dr. Meret, a knowledgeable man and librarian, showed me the library, the anatomy theater, and various natural curiosities; the statue and inscription underneath of that famous physician, Dr. Harvey, who discovered the circulation of blood. There I saw Dr. Gilbert, Sir William Paddy’s portrait, and other pictures of notable figures in their field.
Visited Mr. Wright, a Scotchman, who had lived long at Rome, and was esteemed a good painter. The pictures of the Judges at Guildhall are of his hand, and so are some pieces in Whitehall, as the roof in his[Pg 364] Majesty's old bedchamber, being Astræa, the St. Catherine, and a chimney-piece in the Queen's privy chamber; but his best, in my opinion, is Lacy, the famous Roscius or comedian, whom he has painted in three dresses, as a gallant, a Presbyterian minister, and a Scotch highlander in his plaid. It is in his Majesty's dining room at Windsor. He had at his house an excellent collection, especially that small piece of Correggio, Scotus of de la Marca, a design of Paulo; and, above all, those ruins of Polydore, with some good agates and medals, especially a Scipio, and a Cæsar's head of gold.
Visited Mr. Wright, a Scotsman, who had lived in Rome for a long time and was regarded as a skilled painter. He painted the pictures of the Judges at Guildhall, along with several pieces in Whitehall, including the ceiling in His Majesty's old bedroom featuring Astraea, St. Catherine, and a fireplace in the Queen's private chamber. But in my opinion, his best work is Lacy, the famous Roscius or comedian, which he painted in three outfits: as a dashing gentleman, a Presbyterian minister, and a Scottish Highlander in his plaid. It is displayed in His Majesty's dining room at Windsor. At his home, he had an outstanding collection, especially that small piece by Correggio, Scotus of de la Marca, a design by Paulo; and, above all, those ruins of Polydore, along with some fine agates and medals, particularly a Scipio and a gold head of Caesar.
15th October, 1662. I this day delivered my "Discourse concerning Forest Trees" to the Society, upon occasion of certain queries sent to us by the Commissioners of his Majesty's Navy, being the first book that was printed by order of the Society, and by their printer, since it was a corporation.
15th October, 1662. Today, I presented my "Discourse concerning Forest Trees" to the Society in response to some questions from the Commissioners of His Majesty's Navy. This is the first book that was printed by the Society’s order and by their printer since the organization became a corporation.
16th October, 1662. I saw "Volpone" acted at Court before their Majesties.
16th October, 1662. I saw "Volpone" performed at Court in front of their Majesties.
21st October, 1662. To the Queen-Mother's Court, where her Majesty related to us divers passages of her escapes during the Rebellion and wars in England.
21st October, 1662. To the Queen-Mother's Court, where her Majesty shared with us various accounts of her narrow escapes during the Rebellion and wars in England.
28th October, 1662. To Court in the evening where the Queen-Mother, the Queen-Consort, and his Majesty being advertised of some disturbance, forbore to go to the Lord Mayor's show and feast appointed next day, the new Queen not having yet seen that triumph.
28th October, 1662. In the evening, I went to Court where the Queen Mother, the Queen Consort, and His Majesty, upon being informed of some disturbance, decided not to attend the Lord Mayor's show and feast scheduled for the next day, since the new Queen had not yet seen that celebration.
29th October, 1662. Was my Lord Mayor's show, with a number of sumptuous pageants, speeches, and verses. I was standing in a house in Cheapside against the place prepared for their Majesties. The Prince and heir of Denmark was there, but not our King. There were also the maids of honor. I went to Court this evening, and had much discourse with Dr. Basiers, one of his Majesty's chaplains, the great traveler, who showed me the syngraphs and original subscriptions of divers eastern patriarchs and Asian churches to our confession.
29th October, 1662. It was my Lord Mayor's show, featuring a number of lavish parades, speeches, and poems. I was standing in a house in Cheapside, opposite the area set up for the royal family. The Prince and heir of Denmark was present, but our King was not. There were also the maids of honor. I attended Court this evening and had a lengthy conversation with Dr. Basiers, one of His Majesty's chaplains and a renowned traveler, who showed me the documents and original signatures from various Eastern patriarchs and Asian churches affirming our confession.
4th November, 1662. I was invited to the wedding of the daughter of Sir George Carteret (The Treasurer of the Navy and King's Vice-Chamberlain), married to Sir Nicholas Slaning, Knight of the Bath, by the Bishop of London, in the Savoy chapel; after which was an extraordinary feast.[Pg 365]
4th November, 1662. I was invited to the wedding of the daughter of Sir George Carteret (the Treasurer of the Navy and the King's Vice-Chamberlain), who married Sir Nicholas Slaning, Knight of the Bath, officiated by the Bishop of London, in the Savoy chapel; afterward, there was an extraordinary feast.[Pg 365]
5th November, 1662. The Council of the Royal Society met to amend the Statutes, and dined together; afterward meeting at Gresham College, where was a discourse suggested by me, concerning planting his Majesty's Forest of Dean with oak, now so much exhausted of the choicest ship timber in the world.
5th November, 1662. The Council of the Royal Society met to revise the Statutes and had dinner together; afterward, they gathered at Gresham College, where a discussion I proposed took place about planting His Majesty's Forest of Dean with oak, which is now so depleted of the finest ship timber in the world.
20th November, 1662. Dined with the Comptroller, Sir Hugh Pollard; afterward saw "The Young Admiral" acted before the King.
20th November, 1662. Had dinner with the Comptroller, Sir Hugh Pollard; afterward, watched "The Young Admiral" performed for the King.
27th November, 1662. Went to London to see the entrance of the Russian Ambassador, whom his Majesty ordered to be received with much state, the Emperor not only having been kind to his Majesty in his distress, but banishing all commerce with our nation during the Rebellion.
27th November, 1662. Went to London to see the arrival of the Russian Ambassador, who his Majesty ordered to be received with great ceremony, as the Emperor had not only been supportive to his Majesty in his troubles, but also cut off all trade with our country during the Rebellion.
First, the city companies and trained bands were all in their stations: his Majesty's army and guards in great order. His Excellency came in a very rich coach, with some of his chief attendants; many of the rest on horseback, clad in their vests, after the Eastern manner, rich furs, caps, and carrying the presents, some carrying hawks, furs, teeth, bows, etc. It was a very magnificent show.
First, the city companies and trained bands were all in their places: His Majesty's army and guards were in great order. His Excellency arrived in an elaborate coach, accompanied by some of his main attendants; many others were on horseback, dressed in their vests, in the Eastern style, wearing rich furs and caps, and carrying gifts, some with hawks, furs, teeth, bows, etc. It was a truly magnificent display.
I dined with the Master of the Mint, where was old Sir Ralph Freeman;74 passing my evening at the Queen-Mother's Court; at night, saw acted "The Committee," a ridiculous play of Sir R. Howard, where the mimic, Lacy, acted the Irish footman to admiration.
I had dinner with the Master of the Mint, where the old Sir Ralph Freeman was; I spent my evening at the Queen Mother’s Court. Later that night, I watched "The Committee," a funny play by Sir R. Howard, where the performer Lacy played the Irish footman incredibly well.
30th November, 1662. St. Andrew's day. Invited by the Dean of Westminster to his consecration dinner and ceremony, on his being made Bishop of Worcester. Dr. Bolton preached in the Abbey Church; then followed the consecration by the Bishops of London, Chichester, Winchester, Salisbury, etc. After this, was one of the most plentiful and magnificent dinners that in my life I ever saw; it cost near £600 as I was informed. Here were the judges, nobility, clergy, and gentlemen innumerable, this Bishop being universally beloved for his sweet and gentle disposition. He was author of those Characters which go under the name of Blount. He translated his late Majesty's "Icon" into Latin, was Clerk of his Closet, Chaplain, Dean of Westminster, and yet a most humble, meek, and cheerful man, an excellent scholar, and rare preacher. I had the honor to be loved by him. He married me at Paris, during his Majesty's and the Church's exile. When I took leave of him, he brought me to the cloisters in his episcopal habit. I then went to prayers at Whitehall, where I passed that evening.
30th November, 1662. St. Andrew's Day. I was invited by the Dean of Westminster to his consecration dinner and ceremony for being made Bishop of Worcester. Dr. Bolton preached in the Abbey Church, and then the consecration was performed by the Bishops of London, Chichester, Winchester, Salisbury, and others. After that, there was one of the most abundant and impressive dinners I've ever seen; I was told it cost nearly £600. There were judges, nobility, clergy, and countless gentlemen, as this Bishop was universally loved for his sweet and gentle nature. He was the author of the Characters known as Blount. He translated the late King’s "Icon" into Latin, was Clerk of his Closet, Chaplain, Dean of Westminster, and yet remained a very humble, meek, and cheerful man, an excellent scholar, and a remarkable preacher. I had the privilege of being loved by him. He married me in Paris during the exile of His Majesty and the Church. When I said goodbye to him, he took me to the cloisters in his episcopal robes. I then went to prayers at Whitehall, where I spent that evening.
1st December, 1662. Having seen the strange and wonderful dexterity of the sliders on the new canal in St. James's Park, performed before their Majesties by divers gentlemen and others with skates, after the manner of the Hollanders, with what swiftness they pass, how suddenly they stop in full career upon the ice; I went home by water, but not without exceeding difficulty, the Thames being frozen, great flakes of ice encompassing our boat.
1st December, 1662. I witnessed the amazing skill of the sliders on the new canal in St. James's Park, performed before the royal couple by various gentlemen and others on skates, just like the Dutch do. I was struck by how fast they moved and how suddenly they could stop on the ice. I made my way home by boat, but it was quite difficult since the Thames was frozen, with large chunks of ice surrounding our boat.
17th December, 1662, I saw acted before the King "The Law against Lovers."75
17th December, 1662, I saw performed for the King "The Law against Lovers."75
21st December, 1662. One of his Majesty's chaplains preached; after which, instead of the ancient, grave, and solemn wind music accompanying the organ, was introduced a concert of twenty-four violins between every pause, after the French fantastical light way, better suiting a tavern, or playhouse, than a church. This was the first time of change, and now we no more heard the cornet which gave life to the organ; that instrument quite left off in which the English were so skillful. I dined at Mr. Povey's, where I talked with Cromer, a great musician.
21st December, 1662. One of the king's chaplains preached; afterward, instead of the traditional, serious, and solemn wind music that usually accompanied the organ, a concert of twenty-four violins was played between each pause, following the fanciful French style that seemed more appropriate for a tavern or theater than a church. This was the first instance of this change, and we no longer heard the cornet that used to bring the organ to life; that instrument, in which the English were so skilled, was completely gone. I had dinner at Mr. Povey's, where I spoke with Cromer, a talented musician.
23d December, 1662. I went with Sir George Tuke, to hear the comedians con and repeat his new comedy, "The Adventures of Five Hours," a play whose plot was taken out of the famous Spanish poet, Calderon.
23rd December, 1662. I went with Sir George Tuke to hear the actors perform and read his new comedy, "The Adventures of Five Hours," a play that was inspired by the famous Spanish poet, Calderón.
27th December, 1662. I visited Sir Theophilus Biddulph.
27th December, 1662. I visited Sir Theophilus Biddulph.
29th December, 1662. Saw the audience of the Muscovy Ambassador, which was with extraordinary state, his retinue being numerous, all clad in vests of several colors, with buskins, after the Eastern manner! their caps of fur; tunics, richly embroidered with gold and pearls,[Pg 367] made a glorious show. The King being seated under a canopy in the Banqueting House, the Secretary of the Embassy went before the Ambassador in a grave march, holding up his master's letters of credence in a crimson taffeta scarf before his forehead. The Ambassador then delivered it with a profound reverence to the King, who gave it to our Secretary of State: it was written in a long and lofty style. Then came in the presents, borne by 165 of his retinue, consisting of mantles and other large pieces lined with sable, black fox, and ermine; Persian carpets, the ground cloth of gold and velvet; hawks, such as they said never came the like; horses said to be Persian; bows and arrows, etc. These borne by so long a train rendered it very extraordinary. Wind music played all the while in the galleries above. This finished, the Ambassador was conveyed by the master of the ceremonies to York House, where he was treated with a banquet, which cost £200, as I was assured.
29th December, 1662. I attended the audience with the Muscovy Ambassador, which was quite grand. His entourage was large, all dressed in colorful vests and Eastern-style boots, wearing fur caps and richly embroidered tunics adorned with gold and pearls,[Pg 367] creating a spectacular display. The King sat beneath a canopy in the Banqueting House, while the Embassy's Secretary walked in a serious manner ahead of the Ambassador, holding his master's letters of credence in a crimson taffeta scarf before his forehead. The Ambassador then presented it with deep respect to the King, who handed it to our Secretary of State; it was written in an elaborate and formal style. Following this, the gifts arrived, carried by 165 members of his retinue. They included cloaks and large pieces lined with sable, black fox, and ermine; Persian carpets with gold and velvet backgrounds; hawks that were claimed to be unmatched; and horses said to be Persian; along with bows and arrows, etc. The lengthy procession made the occasion particularly remarkable. Wind instruments played continuously in the galleries above. Once this was done, the Ambassador was escorted by the master of ceremonies to York House, where he was treated to a banquet that reportedly cost £200.
7th January, 1663. At night I saw the ball, in which his Majesty danced with several great ladies.
7th January, 1663. At night I saw the ball where his Majesty danced with several esteemed ladies.
8th January, 1663. I went to see my kinsman, Sir George Tuke's, comedy acted at the Duke's theater, which took so universally, that it was acted for some weeks every day, and it was believed it would be worth to the comedians £400 or £500. The plot was incomparable; but the language stiff and formal.
8th January, 1663. I went to see my relative, Sir George Tuke's, comedy performed at the Duke's theater, which became so popular that it was shown every day for several weeks, and it was thought it would earn the actors £400 or £500. The plot was exceptional; however, the language was stiff and formal.
10th January, 1663. I saw a ball again at Court, danced by the King, the Duke, and ladies, in great pomp.
10th January, 1663. I attended another ball at Court, where the King, the Duke, and the ladies danced in grand style.
21st January, 1663. Dined at Mr. Treasurer's, of the Household, Sir Charles Berkeley's, where were the Earl of Oxford, Lord Bellassis, Lord Gerard, Sir Andrew Scrope, Sir William Coventry, Dr. Fraser, Mr. Windham, and others.
21st January, 1663. Had dinner at Mr. Treasurer's, of the Household, Sir Charles Berkeley's, where the Earl of Oxford, Lord Bellassis, Lord Gerard, Sir Andrew Scrope, Sir William Coventry, Dr. Fraser, Mr. Windham, and others were present.
5th February, 1663. I saw "The Wild Gallant," a comedy;76 and was at the great ball at Court, where his Majesty, the Queen, etc., danced.
5th February, 1663. I watched "The Wild Gallant," a comedy;76 and I attended the big ball at Court, where His Majesty, the Queen, and others danced.
6th February, 1663. Dined at my Lord Mayor's, Sir John Robinson, Lieutenant of the Tower.
6th February, 1663. Had dinner at my Lord Mayor's, Sir John Robinson, Lieutenant of the Tower.
15th February, 1663. This night some villains broke into my house and study below, and robbed me to the[Pg 368] value of £60 in plate, money and goods:—this being the third time I have been thus plundered.
15th February, 1663. Last night, some criminals broke into my house and study downstairs, stealing about £60 worth of silver, cash, and other valuables—this is the third time I’ve been robbed like this.
26th March, 1663. I sat at the Commission of Sewers, where was a great case pleaded by his Majesty's counsel; he having built a wall over a water course, denied the jurisdiction of the Court. The verdict went for the plaintiff.77
26th March, 1663. I was at the Commission of Sewers, where a significant case was argued by the King’s lawyers; he had built a wall over a watercourse and disputed the Court’s authority. The ruling was in favor of the plaintiff.77
30th April, 1663. Came his Majesty to honor my poor villa with his presence, viewing the gardens, and even every room of the house, and was pleased to take a small refreshment. There were with him the Duke of Richmond, Earl of St. Alban's, Lord Lauderdale, and several persons of quality.
30th April, 1663. His Majesty visited my humble villa, taking a look at the gardens and every room in the house, and he was kind enough to enjoy a light snack. Accompanying him were the Duke of Richmond, the Earl of St. Alban's, Lord Lauderdale, and several other distinguished guests.
14th May, 1663. Dined with my Lord Mordaunt, and thence went to Barnes, to visit my excellent and ingenious friend, Abraham Cowley.
14th May, 1663. Had dinner with my Lord Mordaunt, and then went to Barnes to visit my brilliant and talented friend, Abraham Cowley.
17th May, 1663. I saluted the old Bishop of Durham, Dr. Cosin, to whom I had been kind, and assisted in his exile; but which he little remembered in his greatness.
17th May, 1663. I greeted the old Bishop of Durham, Dr. Cosin, to whom I had been kind and helped during his exile; however, he hardly remembered that when he was in a position of power.
29th May, 1663. Dr. Creighton preached his extravagant sermon at St. Margaret's, before the House of Commons.
29th May, 1663. Dr. Creighton delivered his elaborate sermon at St. Margaret's, in front of the House of Commons.
30th May, 1663. This morning was passed my lease of Sayes Court from the Crown, for the finishing of which I had been obliged to make such frequent journeys to London. I returned this evening, having seen the Russian Ambassador take leave of their Majesties with great solemnity.
30th May, 1663. This morning, I signed my lease for Sayes Court from the Crown, which had required me to make so many trips to London. I came back this evening after witnessing the Russian Ambassador bid farewell to Their Majesties with great formality.
2d July, 1663. I saw the great Masque at Court, and lay that night at Arundel House.
2nd July, 1663. I saw the amazing Masque at Court and stayed the night at Arundel House.
4th July, 1663. I saw his Majesty's Guards, being of horse and foot 4,000, led by the General, the Duke of Albemarle, in extraordinary equipage and gallantry, consisting of gentlemen of quality and veteran soldiers, excellently clad, mounted, and ordered, drawn up in battalia before their Majesties in Hyde Park, where the old Earl of Cleveland trailed a pike, and led the right-hand file in a foot company, commanded by the Lord Wentworth, his son; a worthy spectacle and example, being both of them old and valiant soldiers. This was to show the French Ambassador, Monsieur Comminges; there being a great assembly of coaches, etc., in the park.[Pg 369]
4th July, 1663. I saw the King's Guards, made up of 4,000 soldiers, both cavalry and infantry, led by the General, the Duke of Albemarle. They were dressed and equipped in a remarkable and impressive way, consisting of distinguished gentlemen and seasoned soldiers, all well-dressed, mounted, and organized, arranged in formation before Their Majesties in Hyde Park. The old Earl of Cleveland carried a pike and led the right flank of an infantry company commanded by his son, Lord Wentworth; a commendable sight and example, as both were old and brave soldiers. This event was held to impress the French Ambassador, Monsieur Comminges, with a large gathering of coaches and other vehicles in the park.[Pg 369]
7th July, 1663. Dined at the Comptroller's; after dinner we met at the Commission about the streets, and to regulate hackney coaches, also to make up our accounts to pass the Exchequer.
7th July, 1663. Had dinner at the Comptroller's; after dinner, we gathered at the Commission to discuss the streets, regulate hackney coaches, and settle our accounts to submit to the Exchequer.
16th July, 1663. A most extraordinary wet and cold season.
16th July, 1663. An unusually wet and cold season.
Sir George Carteret, Treasurer of the Navy, had now married his daughter, Caroline, to Sir Thomas Scott, of Scott's Hall, in Kent. This gentleman was thought to be the son of Prince Rupert.
Sir George Carteret, Treasurer of the Navy, had now married his daughter, Caroline, to Sir Thomas Scott, of Scott's Hall, in Kent. This man was believed to be the son of Prince Rupert.
2d August, 1663. This evening I accompanied Mr. Treasurer and Vice-Chamberlain Carteret to his lately married son-in-law's, Sir Thomas Scott, to Scott's Hall. We took barge as far as Gravesend, and thence by post to Rochester, whence in coach and six horses to Scott's Hall; a right noble seat, uniformly built, with a handsome gallery. It stands in a park well stored, the land fat and good. We were exceedingly feasted by the young knight, and in his pretty chapel heard an excellent sermon by his chaplain. In the afternoon, preached the learned Sir Norton Knatchbull (who has a noble seat hard by, and a plantation of stately fir trees). In the churchyard of the parish church I measured an overgrown yew tree, that was eighteen of my paces in compass, out of some branches of which, torn off by the winds, were sawed divers goodly planks.
2nd August, 1663. This evening, I went with Mr. Treasurer and Vice-Chamberlain Carteret to visit his recently married son-in-law, Sir Thomas Scott, at Scott's Hall. We took a barge as far as Gravesend, then traveled by post to Rochester, and from there went by coach with six horses to Scott's Hall; a truly impressive estate, built uniformly, with a lovely gallery. It sits in a well-stocked park, the land rich and fertile. We were treated to an amazing feast by the young knight, and in his charming chapel, we heard an excellent sermon from his chaplain. In the afternoon, the learned Sir Norton Knatchbull preached (he has a grand estate nearby with a grove of majestic fir trees). In the churchyard of the parish church, I measured a massive yew tree that was eighteen of my paces in circumference; from some branches torn off by the winds, several beautiful planks were sawed.
10th August, 1663. We returned by Sir Norton's, whose house is likewise in a park. This gentleman is a worthy person, and learned critic, especially in Greek and Hebrew. Passing by Chatham, we saw his Majesty's Royal Navy, and dined at Commissioner Pett's,78 master-builder there, who showed me his study and models, with other curiosities belonging to his art. He is esteemed for the most skillful shipbuilder in the world. He hath a pretty garden and banqueting house, pots, statues, cypresses, resembling some villas about Rome. After a great feast[Pg 370] we rode post to Gravesend, and, sending the coach to London, came by barge home that night.
10th August, 1663. We returned via Sir Norton's, whose house is also in a park. This gentleman is a respectable and knowledgeable critic, particularly in Greek and Hebrew. As we passed by Chatham, we saw His Majesty's Royal Navy and had lunch at Commissioner Pett's,78 the master-builder there, who showed me his study and models, along with other interesting items related to his craft. He is regarded as the most skilled shipbuilder in the world. He has a lovely garden and a banquet house, complete with pots, statues, and cypress trees, resembling some villas around Rome. After a grand feast[Pg 370] we rode post to Gravesend and, sending the coach to London, took a barge home that night.
18th August, 1663. To London, to see my Lord Chancellor, where I had discourse with my Lord Archbishop of Canterbury and the Bishop of Winchester, who enjoined me to write to Dr. Pierce, President of Magdalen College, Oxford, about a letter sent him by Dr. Goffe, a Romish Oratorian, concerning an answer to Dean Cressy's late book.
18th August, 1663. I went to London to see my Lord Chancellor, where I had a conversation with my Lord Archbishop of Canterbury and the Bishop of Winchester. They urged me to write to Dr. Pierce, President of Magdalen College, Oxford, about a letter sent to him by Dr. Goffe, a Roman Oratorian, regarding a response to Dean Cressy's recent book.
20th August, 1663. I dined at the Comptroller's [of the Household] with the Earl of Oxford and Mr. Ashburnham; it was said it should be the last of the public diets, or tables, at Court, it being determined to put down the old hospitality, at which was great murmuring, considering his Majesty's vast revenue and the plenty of the nation. Hence, I went to sit in a Committee, to consider about the regulation of the Mint at the Tower; in which some small progress was made.
20th August, 1663. I had dinner at the Comptroller’s [of the Household] with the Earl of Oxford and Mr. Ashburnham; it was said this would be the last of the public dinners, or tables, at Court, as it was decided to end the old hospitality, which caused a lot of grumbling, given the King’s large income and the country’s abundance. After that, I went to a Committee meeting to discuss the regulation of the Mint at the Tower; we made some small progress there.
27th August, 1663. Dined at Sir Philip Warwick's, Secretary to my Lord Treasurer, who showed me the accounts and other private matters relating to the revenue. Thence, to the Commissioners of the Mint, particularly about coinage, and bringing his Majesty's rate from fifteen to ten shillings for every pound weight of gold.
27th August, 1663. Had dinner at Sir Philip Warwick's, Secretary to my Lord Treasurer, who shared with me the accounts and other private matters regarding the revenue. After that, I went to meet with the Commissioners of the Mint, specifically discussing coinage and reducing his Majesty's rate from fifteen to ten shillings for every pound weight of gold.
31st August, 1663. I was invited to the translation of Dr. Sheldon, Bishop of London, from that see to Canterbury, the ceremony performed at Lambeth. First, went his Grace's mace bearer, steward, treasurer, comptroller, all in their gowns, and with white staves; next, the bishops in their habits, eight in number; Dr. Sweate, Dean of the Arches, Dr. Exton, Judge of the Admiralty, Sir William Merick, Judge of the Prerogative Court, with divers advocates in scarlet. After divine service in the chapel, performed with music extraordinary, Dr. French and Dr. Stradling (his Grace's chaplains) said prayers. The Archbishop in a private room looking into the chapel, the bishops, who were commissioners, went up to a table placed before the altar, and sat round it in chairs. Then Dr. Chaworth presented the commission under the broad seal to the Bishop of Winchester, and it was read by Dr. Sweate. After which, the Vicar-General went to the vestry, and brought his Grace into the chapel, his other officers marching before. He being presented to the Commis[Pg 371]sioners, was seated in a great armchair at one end of the table, when the definitive sentence was read by the Bishop of Winchester, and subscribed by all the bishops, and proclamation was three times made at the chapel door, which was then set open for any to enter, and give their exceptions; if any they had. This done, we all went to dinner in the great hall to a mighty feast. There were present all the nobility in town, the Lord Mayor of London, Sheriffs, Duke of Albemarle, etc. My Lord Archbishop did in particular most civilly welcome me. So going to visit my Lady Needham, who lived at Lambeth, I went over to London.
31st August, 1663. I was invited to attend the ceremony for Dr. Sheldon, Bishop of London, as he was transferred to Canterbury, which took place at Lambeth. First, his Grace's mace bearer, steward, treasurer, and comptroller entered, all wearing gowns and carrying white staves; next came the bishops in their formal attire, eight in total; Dr. Sweate, Dean of the Arches, Dr. Exton, Judge of the Admiralty, Sir William Merick, Judge of the Prerogative Court, along with several advocates in scarlet. After a divine service in the chapel, accompanied by extraordinary music, Dr. French and Dr. Stradling (his Grace's chaplains) led the prayers. The Archbishop was in a private room overlooking the chapel while the bishops, who were the commissioners, approached a table set before the altar and sat around it in chairs. Then Dr. Chaworth presented the commission under the broad seal to the Bishop of Winchester, which Dr. Sweate read aloud. After this, the Vicar-General went to the vestry and brought his Grace into the chapel, with his other officers marching ahead. When he was presented to the Commissioners, he took a seat in a large armchair at one end of the table, where the definitive sentence was read by the Bishop of Winchester and signed by all the bishops. A proclamation was made three times at the chapel door, which was then opened for anyone to enter and voice any objections they might have. Once this was completed, we all proceeded to dinner in the great hall to enjoy a lavish feast. All the nobility from town were present, including the Lord Mayor of London, Sheriffs, Duke of Albemarle, etc. The Archbishop was particularly gracious in welcoming me. After that, I went to visit my Lady Needham, who lived at Lambeth, and then headed over to London.
10th September, 1663. I dined with Mr. Treasurer of the Navy, where, sitting by Mr. Secretary Morice, we had much discourse about books and authors, he being a learned man, and had a good collection.
10th September, 1663. I had dinner with the Treasurer of the Navy, where I sat next to Secretary Morice. We had a lot of discussions about books and authors since he is a knowledgeable man and has a great collection.
24th October, 1663. Mr. Edward Phillips came to be my son's preceptor: this gentleman was nephew to Milton, who wrote against Salmasius's "Defensio"; but was not at all infected with his principles, though brought up by him.
24th October, 1663. Mr. Edward Phillips became my son's tutor. This gentleman was the nephew of Milton, who wrote against Salmasius's "Defensio"; however, he was not influenced by Milton's beliefs, despite being raised by him.
5th November, 1663. Dr. South, my Lord Chancellor's chaplain, preached at Westminster Abbey an excellent discourse concerning obedience to magistrates, against the pontificians and sectaries. I afterward dined at Sir Philip Warwick's, where was much company.
5th November, 1663. Dr. South, my Lord Chancellor's chaplain, delivered an excellent sermon at Westminster Abbey about obeying government officials, speaking out against the papists and various sects. I later had lunch at Sir Philip Warwick's, where there was a large group of people.
6th November, 1663. To Court, to get Sir John Evelyn, of Godstone, off from being Sheriff of Surrey.
6th November, 1663. Went to Court to get Sir John Evelyn, of Godstone, out of being Sheriff of Surrey.
30th November, 1663. Was the first anniversary of our Society for the choice of new officers, according to the tenor of our patent and institution. It being St. Andrew's day, who was our patron, each fellow wore a St. Andrew's cross of ribbon on the crown of his hat. After the election we dined together, his Majesty sending us venison.
30th November, 1663. It was the first anniversary of our Society for choosing new officers, as stated in our charter and founding documents. Since it was St. Andrew's day, our patron, each member wore a St. Andrew's cross of ribbon on the top of his hat. After the election, we had dinner together, with His Majesty sending us venison.
16th December, 1663. To our Society, where Mr. P. Balle, our treasurer at the late election, presented the Society with an iron chest, having three locks, and in it £100 as a gift.
16th December, 1663. To our Society, where Mr. P. Balle, our treasurer from the recent election, gave the Society an iron chest with three locks, containing £100 as a gift.
18th December, 1663. Dined with the gentlemen of his Majesty's bedchamber at Whitehall.
18th December, 1663. Had dinner with the gentlemen of His Majesty's bedchamber at Whitehall.
2d January, 1663-64. To Barn Elms, to see Abraham Cowley after his sickness; and returned that evening to London.[Pg 372]
2nd January, 1663-64. I went to Barn Elms to see Abraham Cowley after his illness and came back to London that evening.[Pg 372]
4th February, 1664. Dined at Sir Philip Warwick's; thence, to Court, where I had discourse with the King about an invention of glass-grenades, and several other subjects.
4th February, 1664. Had dinner at Sir Philip Warwick's; then, went to Court, where I spoke with the King about an invention of glass grenades, and various other topics.
5th February, 1664. I saw "The Indian Queen" acted, a tragedy well written,79 so beautiful with rich scenes as the like had never been seen here, or haply (except rarely) elsewhere on a mercenary theater.
5th February, 1664. I saw "The Indian Queen" performed, a well-written tragedy,79 so stunning with lavish scenes that nothing like it had ever been seen here, or perhaps (only rarely) anywhere else on a commercial stage.
16th February, 1664. I presented my "Sylva" to the Society; and next day to his Majesty, to whom it was dedicated; also to the Lord Treasurer and the Lord Chancellor.
16th February, 1664. I presented my "Sylva" to the Society; and the next day to his Majesty, to whom it was dedicated; also to the Lord Treasurer and the Lord Chancellor.
24th February, 1664. My Lord George Berkeley, of Durdans, and Sir Samuel Tuke came to visit me. We went on board Sir William Petty's double-bottomed vessel, and so to London.
24th February, 1664. My Lord George Berkeley of Durdans and Sir Samuel Tuke came to visit me. We boarded Sir William Petty's double-bottomed vessel and headed to London.
26th February, 1664. Dined with my Lord Chancellor; and thence to Court, where I had great thanks for my "Sylva," and long discourse with the King of divers particulars.
26th February, 1664. Had dinner with my Lord Chancellor; and then went to Court, where I received great thanks for my "Sylva," and had a long conversation with the King about various topics.
2d March, 1664. Went to London to distribute some of my books among friends.
2nd March, 1664. Went to London to give out some of my books to friends.
4th March, 1664. Came to dine with me the Earl of Lauderdale, his Majesty's great favorite, and Secretary of Scotland; the Earl of Teviot; my Lord Viscount Brouncker, President of the Royal Society; Dr. Wilkins, Dean of Ripon; Sir Robert Murray, and Mr. Hooke, Curator to the Society.
4th March, 1664. The Earl of Lauderdale, the King's close favorite and Secretary of Scotland, came to have dinner with me, along with the Earl of Teviot, my Lord Viscount Brouncker, President of the Royal Society; Dr. Wilkins, Dean of Ripon; Sir Robert Murray, and Mr. Hooke, Curator to the Society.
This spring I planted the Home field and West field about Sayes Court with elms, being the same year that the elms were planted by his Majesty in Greenwich Park.
This spring, I planted the Home field and West field around Sayes Court with elms, which was the same year that his Majesty planted the elms in Greenwich Park.
9th March, 1664. I went to the Tower, to sit in commission about regulating the Mint; and now it was that the fine new-milled coin, both of white money and guineas, was established.
9th March, 1664. I went to the Tower to meet with the commission about managing the Mint; and it was during this time that the new, high-quality coins, both silver and guineas, were officially established.
26th March, 1664. It pleased God to take away my son, Richard, now a month old, yet without any sickness of danger perceivably, being to all appearance a most likely child; we suspected much the nurse had overlain him; to our extreme sorrow, being now again reduced to one: but God's will be done.[Pg 373]
26th March, 1664. It pleased God to take my son, Richard, who was only a month old and seemed perfectly healthy, with no visible signs of illness or danger. We suspected that the nurse had accidentally suffocated him. This has brought us immense sorrow, as we are now left with just one child again; but we accept God's will.[Pg 373]
29th March, 1664. After evening prayers, was my child buried near the rest of his brothers—my very dear children.
29th March, 1664. After evening prayers, my child was buried close to the rest of his brothers—my very dear children.
27th April, 1664. Saw a facetious comedy, called "Love in a Tub"; and supped at Mr. Secretary Bennett's.
27th April, 1664. Saw a funny play called "Love in a Tub"; and had dinner at Mr. Secretary Bennett's.
3d May, 1664. Came the Earl of Kent, my kinsman, and his Lady, to visit us.
3rd May, 1664. The Earl of Kent, my relative, and his Lady came to visit us.
5th May, 1664. Went with some company a journey of pleasure on the water, in a barge, with music, and at Mortlake had a great banquet, returning late. The occasion was, Sir Robert Carr now courting Mrs. Bennett, sister to the Secretary of State.
5th May, 1664. Went out with some friends for a nice time on the water in a barge, with music, and had a big feast at Mortlake, returning late. The reason for this was that Sir Robert Carr was now pursuing Mrs. Bennett, sister to the Secretary of State.
6th May, 1664. Went to see Mr. Wright the painter's collection of rare shells, etc.
6th May, 1664. Went to check out Mr. Wright the painter's collection of rare shells, etc.
8th June, 1664. To our Society, to which his Majesty had sent that wonderful horn of the fish which struck a dangerous hole in the keel of a ship in the India sea, which, being broken off with the violence of the fish, and left in the timber, preserved it from foundering.
8th June, 1664. To our Society, to which His Majesty had sent that incredible horn from the fish that damaged a ship's keel in the Indian Ocean. The horn, broken off by the force of the fish, was left in the wood and saved the ship from sinking.
9th June, 1664. Sir Samuel Tuke80 being this morning married to a lady, kinswoman to my Lord Arundel of Wardour, by the Queen's Lord Almoner, L. Aubigny in St. James's chapel, solemnized his wedding night at my house with much company.
9th June, 1664. Sir Samuel Tuke80 got married this morning to a woman who is a relative of my Lord Arundel of Wardour. The Queen's Lord Almoner, L. Aubigny, officiated the ceremony in St. James's chapel. They celebrated their wedding night at my house with a big group of guests.
22d June, 1664. One Tomson, a Jesuit, showed me such a collection of rarities, sent from the Jesuits of Japan and China to their Order at Paris, as a present to be reserved in their repository, but brought to London by the East India ships for them, as in my life I had not seen. The chief things were, rhinoceros's horns; glorious vests, wrought and embroidered on cloth of gold, but with such lively colors, that for splendor and vividness we have nothing in Europe that approaches it; a girdle studded with agates and rubies of great value and size; knives, of so keen an edge as one could not touch them, nor was the metal of our color, but more pale and livid; fans, like those our ladies use, but much larger, and with long handles curiously carved and filled with Chinese characters; a sort of paper very broad, thin, and fine, like abortive parchment, and exquisitely polished, of an amber yellow, exceedingly glorious and pretty to look on, and seeming to be like that which my[Pg 374] Lord Verulam describes in his "Nova Atlantis"; several other sorts of paper, some written, others printed; prints of landscapes, their idols, saints, pagods, of most ugly serpentine monstrous and hideous shapes, to which they paid devotion; pictures of men and countries, rarely painted on a sort of gummed calico, transparent as glass; flowers, trees, beasts, birds, etc., excellently wrought in a kind of sleeve silk, very natural; divers drugs that our druggists and physicians could make nothing of, especially one which the Jesuit called Lac Tigridis: it looked like a fungus, but was weighty like metal, yet was a concretion, or coagulation, of some other matter; several book MSS.; a grammar of the language written in Spanish; with innumerable other rarities.
22nd June, 1664. A Jesuit named Tomson showed me an amazing collection of rarities sent from the Jesuits of Japan and China to their Order in Paris, intended as a gift to be kept in their repository, but brought to London by the East India ships. I had never seen anything like it in my life. The main items included rhinoceros horns; stunning vests, beautifully designed and embroidered on gold cloth, with colors so vivid that nothing in Europe could compare; a belt adorned with valuable and large agates and rubies; knives with such sharp edges they were unsafe to touch, made of a pale, unusual metal; fans similar to the ones our ladies use, but much larger, with long, intricately carved handles filled with Chinese characters; a type of paper that was very broad, thin, and fine, resembling unfinished parchment and brilliantly polished, with an amber yellow color that was incredibly beautiful, similar to what my Lord Verulam describes in his "Nova Atlantis"; various other types of paper, some written and others printed; prints of landscapes, their idols, saints, pagodas, and various monstrous, hideous shapes that were grotesque, to which they offered prayers; images of people and places beautifully painted on a kind of gummed calico that was transparent like glass; flowers, trees, animals, birds, etc., expertly crafted in a silky material that looked very realistic; various drugs that our pharmacists and doctors couldn't identify, especially one called Lac Tigridis: it resembled a fungus but was heavy like metal and was a solid form of some other substance; several manuscript books; a grammar of the language written in Spanish; along with countless other rarities.
1st July, 1664. Went to see Mr. Povey's elegant house in Lincoln's-Inn Fields, where the perspective in his court, painted by Streeter, is indeed excellent, with the vases in imitation of porphyry, and fountains; the inlaying of his closet; above all, his pretty cellar and ranging of his wine bottles.
1st July, 1664. Went to see Mr. Povey's beautiful house in Lincoln's-Inn Fields, where the view in his courtyard, painted by Streeter, is truly impressive, with the vases looking like porphyry, and fountains; the design of his study; most importantly, his lovely cellar and the arrangement of his wine bottles.
7th July, 1664. To Court, where I subscribed to Sir Arthur Slingsby's lottery, a desperate debt owing me long since in Paris.
7th July, 1664. To Court, where I signed up for Sir Arthur Slingsby's lottery, a long-overdue debt owed to me from Paris.
14th July, 1664. I went to take leave of the two Mr. Howards, now going to Paris, and brought them as far as Bromley; thence to Eltham, to see Sir John Shaw's new house, now building; the place is pleasant, if not too wet, but the house not well contrived; especially the roof and rooms too low pitched, and the kitchen where the cellars should be; the orangery and aviary handsome, and a very large plantation about it.
14th July, 1664. I went to say goodbye to the two Mr. Howards, who were heading to Paris, and accompanied them as far as Bromley; from there to Eltham to check out Sir John Shaw's new house, which is currently under construction. The location is nice, though a bit damp, but the house isn’t well designed; especially the roof and the rooms are too low, and the kitchen is where the cellars should be. The orangery and aviary are impressive, and there’s a very large garden surrounding it.
19th July, 1664. To London, to see the event of the lottery which his Majesty had permitted Sir Arthur Slingsby to set up for one day in the Banqueting House, at Whitehall; I gaining only a trifle, as well as did the King, Queen-Consort, and Queen-Mother, for near thirty lots; which was thought to be contrived very unhandsomely by the master of it, who was, in truth, a mere shark.
19th July, 1664. Went to London to witness the lottery event that His Majesty allowed Sir Arthur Slingsby to hold for one day in the Banqueting House at Whitehall; I only gained a small amount, just like the King, Queen Consort, and Queen Mother, after nearly thirty draws; it was believed that the organizer of it was being quite unfair, as he was really just a fraud.
21st July, 1664. I dined with my Lord Treasurer at Southampton House, where his Lordship used me with singular humanity. I went in the afternoon to Chelsea, to wait on the Duke of Ormond, and returned to London.[Pg 375]
21st July, 1664. I had dinner with my Lord Treasurer at Southampton House, where he treated me with great kindness. In the afternoon, I went to Chelsea to visit the Duke of Ormond, and then I returned to London.[Pg 375]
28th July, 1664. Came to see me Monsieur Zuylichen, Secretary to the Prince of Orange, an excellent Latin poet, a rare lutinist, with Monsieur Oudart.
28th July, 1664. Monsieur Zuylichen, Secretary to the Prince of Orange, an outstanding Latin poet and a remarkable lutinist, came to visit me, accompanied by Monsieur Oudart.
3d August, 1664. To London; a concert of excellent musicians, especially one Mr. Berkenshaw, that rare artist, who invented a mathematical way of composure very extraordinary, true as to the exact rules of art, but without much harmony.
3rd August, 1664. To London; a concert featuring excellent musicians, particularly one Mr. Berkenshaw, a unique artist who created a mathematical method of composition that is very unusual, true to the precise rules of art, but lacking in harmony.
8th August, 1664. Came the sad and unexpected news of the death of Lady Cotton, wife to my brother George, a most excellent lady.
8th August, 1664. We received the tragic and surprising news of Lady Cotton's death, the wife of my brother George, a truly remarkable woman.
9th August, 1664. Went with my brother Richard to Wotton, to visit and comfort my disconsolate brother; and on the 13th saw my friend, Mr. Charles Howard, at Dipden, near Dorking.
9th August, 1664. Went with my brother Richard to Wotton to visit and comfort my upset brother; and on the 13th, I saw my friend, Mr. Charles Howard, at Dipden, near Dorking.
16th August, 1664. I went to see Sir William Ducie's house at Charlton; which he purchased of my excellent friend, Sir Henry Newton, now nobly furnished.
16th August, 1664. I visited Sir William Ducie's house in Charlton, which he bought from my great friend, Sir Henry Newton, and it's now beautifully furnished.
22d August, 1664. I went from London to Wotton, to assist at the funeral of my sister-in-law, the Lady Cotton, buried in our dormitory there, she being put up in lead. Dr. Owen made a profitable and pathetic discourse, concluding with an eulogy of that virtuous, pious, and deserving lady. It was a very solemn funeral, with about fifty mourners. I came back next day with my wife to London.
22nd August, 1664. I traveled from London to Wotton to attend the funeral of my sister-in-law, Lady Cotton, who was buried in our dormitory there, placed in a lead coffin. Dr. Owen delivered a moving and meaningful speech, ending with a tribute to that virtuous, pious, and deserving lady. It was a very solemn funeral, attended by about fifty mourners. The next day, my wife and I returned to London.
2d September, 1664. Came Constantine Huygens, Signor de Zuylichen, Sir Robert Morris, Mr. Oudart, Mr. Carew, and other friends, to spend the day with us.
2d September, 1664. Constantine Huygens, Signor de Zuylichen, Sir Robert Morris, Mr. Oudart, Mr. Carew, and some other friends came to spend the day with us.
5th October, 1664. To our Society. There was brought a newly-invented instrument of music, being a harpsichord with gut-strings, sounding like a concert of viols with an organ, made vocal by a wheel, and a zone of parchment that rubbed horizontally against the strings.
5th October, 1664. To our Society. A new musical instrument was presented, a harpsichord with gut strings, which produced a sound like a mix of viols and an organ, made vocal by a wheel and a strip of parchment that rubbed against the strings horizontally.
6th October, 1664. I heard the anniversary oration in praise of Dr. Harvey, in the Anatomy Theatre in the College of Physicians; after which I was invited by Dr. Alston, the President, to a magnificent feast.
6th October, 1664. I attended the anniversary speech honoring Dr. Harvey at the Anatomy Theatre in the College of Physicians; afterward, Dr. Alston, the President, invited me to an amazing feast.
7th October, 1664. I dined at Sir Nicholas Strood's, one of the Masters of Chancery, in Great St. Bartholomew's; passing the evening at Whitehall, with the Queen, etc.
7th October, 1664. I had dinner at Sir Nicholas Strood's, one of the Masters of Chancery, in Great St. Bartholomew's; spent the evening at Whitehall with the Queen, and others.
8th October, 1664. Sir William Curtius, his Majesty's Resident in Germany, came to visit me; he was a wise[Pg 376] and learned gentleman, and, as he told me, scholar to Henry Alstedius, the Encyclopedist.
8th October, 1664. Sir William Curtius, the King's Representative in Germany, came to visit me; he was a knowledgeable and educated man, and, as he mentioned, a student of Henry Alstedius, the Encyclopedist.
15th October, 1664. Dined at the Lord Chancellor's, where was the Duke of Ormond, Earl of Cork, and Bishop of Winchester. After dinner, my Lord Chancellor and his lady carried me in their coach to see their palace (for he now lived at Worcester-House in the Strand), building at the upper end of St. James's street, and to project the garden. In the evening, I presented him with my book on Architecture,81 as before I had done to his Majesty and the Queen-Mother. His lordship caused me to stay with him in his bedchamber, discoursing of several matters very late, even till he was going into his bed.
15th October, 1664. Had dinner at the Lord Chancellor's, where the Duke of Ormond, the Earl of Cork, and the Bishop of Winchester were present. After dinner, my Lord Chancellor and his wife took me in their coach to see their palace (since he now lived at Worcester House in the Strand), which was being built at the top of St. James's Street, and to plan the garden. In the evening, I gave him my book on Architecture,81 just like I had previously done for his Majesty and the Queen-Mother. His lordship had me stay in his bedroom, discussing various topics late into the night, even until he was getting into bed.
17th October, 1664. I went with my Lord Viscount Cornbury, to Cornbury, in Oxfordshire, to assist him in the planting of the park, and bear him company, with Mr. Belin and Mr. May, in a coach with six horses; dined at Uxbridge, lay at Wycombe.
17th October, 1664. I went with my Lord Viscount Cornbury to Cornbury in Oxfordshire to help him with the park planting and keep him company, along with Mr. Belin and Mr. May, in a coach with six horses; we had lunch at Uxbridge and stayed overnight at Wycombe.
18th October, 1664. At Oxford. Went through Woodstock, where we beheld the destruction of that royal seat and park by the late rebels, and arrived that evening at Cornbury, a house lately built by the Earl of Denbigh, in the middle of a sweet park, walled with a dry wall. The house is of excellent freestone, abounding in that part, (a stone that is fine, but never sweats, or casts any damp); it is of ample dimensions, has goodly cellars, the paving of the hall admirable for its close laying. We designed a handsome chapel that was yet wanting: as Mr. May had the stables, which indeed are very fair, having set out the walks in the parks and gardens. The lodge is a pretty solitude, and the ponds very convenient; the park well stored.
18th October, 1664. At Oxford. We passed through Woodstock, where we saw the destruction of that royal residence and park caused by the recent rebels, and arrived that evening at Cornbury, a house recently built by the Earl of Denbigh, situated in the middle of a beautiful park, enclosed by a dry stone wall. The house is made of excellent freestone, which is abundant in that area (a stone that is nice but doesn't sweat or produce any dampness); it is spacious, has great cellars, and the hall's flooring is remarkable for its tight installation. We planned a beautiful chapel that was still needed; Mr. May had the stables, which are indeed very nice, having designed the paths in the parks and gardens. The lodge is a nice retreat, and the ponds are very convenient; the park is well-stocked.
20th October, 1664. Hence, to see the famous wells, natural and artificial grots and fountains, called Bushell's Wells, at Enstone. This Bushell had been Secretary to my Lord Verulam. It is an extraordinary solitude. There he had two mummies; a grot where he lay in a hammock, like an Indian. Hence, we went to Dichley, an ancient seat of the Lees, now Sir Henry Lee's; it is a low ancient timber-house, with a pretty bowling-green. My Lady gave[Pg 377] us an extraordinary dinner. This gentleman's mother was Countess of Rochester, who was also there, and Sir Walter St. John. There were some pictures of their ancestors, not ill painted; the great-grandfather had been Knight of the Garter; there was a picture of a Pope, and our Savior's head. So we returned to Cornbury.
20th October, 1664. So, we went to check out the famous wells, natural and artificial grottos and fountains, known as Bushell's Wells, at Enstone. This Bushell had been Secretary to my Lord Verulam. It's an amazing place of solitude. He had two mummies there; a grotto where he would lie in a hammock, like an Indian. After that, we headed to Dichley, an old estate of the Lees, now owned by Sir Henry Lee; it's a low, old timber house with a nice bowling green. My Lady treated us to an incredible dinner. This gentleman's mother was the Countess of Rochester, who was also present, along with Sir Walter St. John. There were some portraits of their ancestors, not badly painted; the great-grandfather had been a Knight of the Garter; there was a portrait of a Pope, and the head of our Savior. Then we returned to Cornbury.
24th October, 1664. We dined at Sir Timothy Tyrill's at Shotover. This gentleman married the daughter and heir of Dr. James Usher, Archbishop of Armagh, that learned prelate. There is here in the grove a fountain of the coldest water I ever felt, and very clear. His plantation of oaks and other timber is very commendable. We went in the evening to Oxford, lay at Dr. Hyde's, principal of Magdalen-Hall (related to the Lord Chancellor), brother to the Lord Chief Justice and that Sir Henry Hyde, who lost his head for his loyalty. We were handsomely entertained two days. The Vice-Chancellor, who with Dr. Fell, Dean of Christ Church, the learned Dr. Barlow, Warden of Queen's, and several heads of houses, came to visit Lord Cornbury (his father being now Chancellor of the University), and next day invited us all to dinner. I went to visit Mr. Boyle (now here), whom I found with Dr. Wallis and Dr. Christopher Wren, in the tower of the schools, with an inverted tube, or telescope, observing the discus of the sun for the passing of Mercury that day before it; but the latitude was so great that nothing appeared; so we went to see the rarities in the library, where the keepers showed me my name among the benefactors. They have a cabinet of some medals, and pictures of the muscular parts of man's body. Thence, to the new theater, now building at an exceeding and royal expense by the Lord Archbishop of Canterbury [Sheldon], to keep the Acts in for the future, till now being in St. Mary's Church. The foundation had been newly laid, and the whole designed by that incomparable genius my worthy friend, Dr. Christopher Wren, who showed me the model, not disdaining my advice in some particulars. Thence, to see the picture on the wall over the altar of All Souls, being the largest piece of fresco painting (or rather in imitation of it, for it is in oil of turpentine) in England, not ill designed by the hand of one Fuller; yet I fear it will not hold long. It seems too full of nakeds for a chapel.[Pg 378]
24th October, 1664. We had dinner at Sir Timothy Tyrill's place at Shotover. He is married to the daughter and heir of Dr. James Usher, Archbishop of Armagh, a highly respected cleric. In the grove, there's a fountain with the coldest and clearest water I’ve ever felt. His plantation of oaks and other timber is quite impressive. In the evening, we went to Oxford and stayed at Dr. Hyde's, the principal of Magdalen-Hall (who is related to the Lord Chancellor), and brother to the Lord Chief Justice and to Sir Henry Hyde, who lost his head for his loyalty. We were graciously entertained for two days. The Vice-Chancellor, along with Dr. Fell, Dean of Christ Church, the learned Dr. Barlow, Warden of Queen's, and several heads of houses, came to visit Lord Cornbury (his father is currently Chancellor of the University), and the next day invited us all to dinner. I went to visit Mr. Boyle (who's now here), and I found him with Dr. Wallis and Dr. Christopher Wren in the tower of the schools, using an inverted tube or telescope to observe the disc of the sun for the transit of Mercury that day; however, the latitude was so great that nothing was visible. So, we went to see the interesting items in the library, where the keepers showed me my name among the benefactors. They have a cabinet with some medals and pictures of the muscular parts of the human body. From there, we went to see the new theater, which is currently under construction at a considerable and royal expense by the Lord Archbishop of Canterbury [Sheldon], meant to host the Acts in the future, as they had been held in St. Mary's Church until now. The foundation has just been laid, and the entire design is by that remarkable genius and my esteemed friend, Dr. Christopher Wren, who showed me the model and valued my input on some details. Next, we visited the painting on the wall above the altar of All Souls, the largest piece of fresco painting (or more accurately, in imitation of it, as it is in oil of turpentine) in England. It's not poorly done by the hand of one Fuller; however, I fear it won't last long. It seems to have too many naked figures for a chapel.[Pg 378]
Thence, to New College, and the painting of Magdalen chapel, which is on blue cloth in chiar oscuro, by one Greenborow, being a Cœna Domini, and a "Last Judgment" on the wall by Fuller, as in the other, but somewhat varied.
Thence, to New College, and the painting of Magdalen chapel, which is on blue cloth in chiar oscuro, by one Greenborow, featuring a Cœna Domini, and a "Last Judgment" on the wall by Fuller, similar to the other, but with some variations.
Next to Wadham, and the Physic Garden, where were two large locust trees, and as many platani (plane trees), and some rare plants under the culture of old Bobart.
Next to Wadham and the Physic Garden, there were two large locust trees, as well as several plane trees, and some rare plants tended by the old Bobart.
26th October, 1664. We came back to Beaconsfield; next day to London, where we dined at the Lord Chancellor's, with my Lord Bellasis.
26th October, 1664. We returned to Beaconsfield; the next day to London, where we had dinner at the Lord Chancellor's with Lord Bellasis.
27th October, 1664. Being casually in the privy gallery at Whitehall, his Majesty gave me thanks before divers lords and noblemen for my book of "Architecture," and again for my "Sylva" saying they were the best designed and useful for the matter and subject, the best printed and designed (meaning the taille-douces of the Parallel of Architecture) that he had seen. He then caused me to follow him alone to one of the windows, and asked me if I had any paper about me unwritten, and a crayon; I presented him with both, and then laying it on the window-stool, he with his own hands designed to me the plot for the future building of Whitehall, together with the rooms of state, and other particulars. After this, he talked with me of several matters, asking my advice, in which I find his Majesty had an extraordinary talent becoming a magnificent prince.
27th October, 1664. While I was casually in the private gallery at Whitehall, the king thanked me in front of various lords and noblemen for my book on "Architecture," and again for my "Sylva," saying they were the best designed and most useful for the topics they covered, the best printed and illustrated (referring to the taille-douces of the Parallel of Architecture) that he had ever seen. He then asked me to follow him alone to one of the windows and inquired if I had any blank paper and a crayon with me. I provided him with both, and then, placing it on the window sill, he personally sketched out the plan for the new building of Whitehall, including the state rooms and other details. After this, he discussed several topics with me, seeking my advice, in which I discovered his Majesty had an exceptional talent for being a magnificent ruler.
The same day at Council, there being Commissioners to be made to take care of such sick and wounded and prisoners of war, as might be expected upon occasion of a succeeding war and action at sea, war being already declared against the Hollanders, his Majesty was pleased to nominate me to be one, with three other gentlemen, Parliament men, viz, Sir William Doily, Knt. and Bart., Sir Thomas Clifford, and Bullein Rheymes, Esq.; with a salary of £1,200 a year among us, besides extraordinaries for our care and attention in time of station, each of us being appointed to a particular district, mine falling out to be Kent and Sussex, with power to constitute officers, physicians, chirurgeons, provost-marshals, and to dispose of half of the hospitals through England. After the Council, we kissed his Majesty's hand. At this Council I heard Mr. Solicitor Finch plead most elegantly[Pg 379] for the merchants trading to the Canaries, praying for a new Charter.
The same day at the Council, there were Commissioners assigned to oversee the care of sick and wounded soldiers and prisoners of war that might arise from an upcoming conflict at sea, with war already declared against the Dutch. His Majesty appointed me as one of them, along with three other gentlemen from Parliament: Sir William Doily, Knt. and Bart., Sir Thomas Clifford, and Bullein Rheymes, Esq. We were to receive a total salary of £1,200 a year among us, plus extra pay for our responsibilities during our assignments, each of us designated to a specific area; mine being Kent and Sussex. We were given the authority to appoint officers, physicians, surgeons, provost marshals, and to manage half of the hospitals across England. After the Council meeting, we kissed His Majesty's hand. At this Council, I heard Mr. Solicitor Finch plead very elegantly for the merchants trading to the Canaries, asking for a new Charter.
29th October, 1664. Was the most magnificent triumph by water and land of the Lord Mayor. I dined at Guildhall at the upper table, placed next to Sir H. Bennett, Secretary of State, opposite to my Lord Chancellor and the Duke of Buckingham, who sat between Monsieur Comminges, the French Ambassador, Lord Treasurer, the Dukes of Ormond and Albemarle, Earl of Manchester, Lord Chamberlain, and the rest of the great officers of state. My Lord Mayor came twice up to us, first drinking in the golden goblet his Majesty's health, then the French King's as a compliment to the Ambassador; we returned my Lord Mayor's health, the trumpets and drums sounding. The cheer was not to be imagined for the plenty and rarity, with an infinite number of persons at the tables in that ample hall. The feast was said to cost £1,000. I slipped away in the crowd, and came home late.
29th October, 1664. It was the most spectacular celebration by land and water for the Lord Mayor. I had dinner at Guildhall at the main table, sitting next to Sir H. Bennett, the Secretary of State, across from my Lord Chancellor and the Duke of Buckingham, who was seated between Monsieur Comminges, the French Ambassador, the Lord Treasurer, the Dukes of Ormond and Albemarle, the Earl of Manchester, the Lord Chamberlain, and other high-ranking officials. The Lord Mayor came up to us twice, first raising a golden goblet to toast the health of His Majesty, then toasting the French King as a courtesy to the Ambassador; we returned the Lord Mayor’s toast, accompanied by the sound of trumpets and drums. The celebration was beyond imagination because of the abundance and variety of food, with countless guests at the tables in that spacious hall. The feast was said to have cost £1,000. I slipped away in the crowd and got home late.
31st October, 1664. I was this day 44 years of age; for which I returned thanks to Almighty God, begging his merciful protection for the year to come.
31st October, 1664. I turned 44 years old today; for this, I gave thanks to Almighty God, asking for His merciful protection for the year ahead.
2d November, 1664. Her Majesty, the Queen-Mother, came across the gallery in Whitehall to give me thanks for my book of "Architecture," which I had presented to her, with a compliment that I did by no means deserve.
2d November, 1664. Her Majesty, the Queen-Mother, walked through the gallery in Whitehall to thank me for my book on "Architecture," which I had given to her, along with a compliment that I definitely didn’t deserve.
16th November, 1664. We chose our treasurer, clerks, and messengers, and appointed our seal, which I ordered should be the good Samaritan, with this motto, "Fac similiter." Painters' Hall was lent us to meet in. In the great room were divers pictures, some reasonably good, that had been given to the Company by several of the wardens and masters of the Company.
16th November, 1664. We elected our treasurer, clerks, and messengers, and decided on our seal, which I instructed to be the good Samaritan, with the motto, "Fac similiter." We were given access to Painters' Hall for our meeting. In the large room, there were several paintings, some of which were quite good, donated to the Company by various wardens and masters of the Company.
23d November, 1664. Our statutes now finished, were read before a full assembly of the Royal Society.
23rd November, 1664. Our completed statutes were presented to a full gathering of the Royal Society.
24th November, 1664. His Majesty was pleased to tell me what the conference was with the Holland Ambassador, which, as after I found, was the heads of the speech he made at the reconvention of the Parliament, which now began.
24th November, 1664. His Majesty kindly shared with me the details of his meeting with the Dutch Ambassador, which, as I later learned, included the main points of the speech he gave at the reconvening of Parliament, which was now beginning.
2d December, 1664. We delivered the Privy Council's letters to the Governors of St. Thomas's Hospital, in[Pg 380] Southwark, that a moiety of the house should be reserved for such sick and wounded as should from time to time be sent from the fleet during the war. This being delivered at their Court, the President and several Aldermen, Governors of that Hospital, invited us to a great feast in Fishmongers' Hall.
2nd December, 1664. We delivered the Privy Council's letters to the Governors of St. Thomas's Hospital, in[Pg 380] Southwark, requesting that a portion of the house be set aside for any sick and wounded individuals sent from the fleet during the war. After presenting this at their court, the President and several Aldermen, who govern the hospital, invited us to a grand feast at Fishmongers' Hall.
20th December, 1664. To London, our last sitting, taking order for our personal visiting our several districts. I dined at Captain Cocke's (our treasurer), with that most ingenious gentleman, Matthew Wren, son to the Bishop of Ely, and Mr. Joseph Williamson, since Secretary of State.
20th December, 1664. To London, our final meeting, organizing our personal visits to our various districts. I had lunch at Captain Cocke's (our treasurer), with the very clever gentleman, Matthew Wren, son of the Bishop of Ely, and Mr. Joseph Williamson, who later became Secretary of State.
22d December, 1664. I went to the launching of a new ship of two bottoms, invented by Sir William Petty, on which were various opinions; his Majesty being present, gave her the name of the "Experiment": so I returned home, where I found Sir Humphry Winch, who spent the day with me.
22nd December, 1664. I went to the launch of a new ship with two hulls, designed by Sir William Petty, which sparked various opinions. His Majesty was present and named her the "Experiment." I returned home, where I found Sir Humphry Winch, who spent the day with me.
This year I planted the lower grove next the pond at Sayes Court. It was now exceedingly cold, and a hard, long, frosty season, and the comet was very visible.
This year I planted the lower grove next to the pond at Sayes Court. It was really cold, and a long, harsh winter, and the comet was very visible.
28th December, 1664. Some of my poor neighbors dined with me, and others of my tenants, according to my annual custom.
28th December, 1664. Some of my less fortunate neighbors had dinner with me, along with some of my tenants, as I do every year.
31st December, 1664. Set my affairs in order, gave God praise for His mercies the past year, and prepared for the reception of the Holy Sacrament, which I partook of the next day, after hearing our minister on the 4th of Galatians, verses 4, 5, of the mystery of our Blessed Savior's Incarnation.[Pg 381]
31st December, 1664. I got my affairs in order, thanked God for His blessings over the past year, and got ready to receive the Holy Sacrament, which I took part in the next day after listening to our minister talk about Galatians 4:4-5, concerning the mystery of our Blessed Savior's Incarnation.[Pg 381]
FOOTNOTES:
1 This expression is, perhaps, hardly applicable to the fact of Evelyn's having witnessed a siege merely as a curious spectator. He reached the camp on the 2d, and left it on the 8th of August, 1641. It is certain, however, that during these six days he took his turn on duty, and trailed a pike.—See Diary.
1 This phrase probably doesn’t quite fit Evelyn's experience of observing a siege as just an interested onlooker. He arrived at the camp on August 2nd and departed on August 8th, 1641. However, it's clear that during these six days, he participated in duty and handled a pike.—See Diary.
2 2d October, 1665, he writes to the Lord Chancellor, Lord Arlington, Sir William Coventry, and Sir Philip Warwick, complaining of want of money for the prisoners: praying that while he and his brother Commissioners adventure their persons and all that is dear to them, in this uncomfortable service, they may not be exposed to ruin, and to a necessity of abandoning their care; and adding that they have lost their officers and servants by the pestilence, and are hourly environed with the saddest objects of perishing people. "I have," says he, "fifteen places full of sick men, where they put me to unspeakable trouble; the magistrates and justices, who should further us in our exigencies, hindering the people from giving us quarters, jealous of the contagion, and causing them to shut the doors at our approach."
2 On October 2, 1665, he writes to the Lord Chancellor, Lord Arlington, Sir William Coventry, and Sir Philip Warwick, expressing concern about the lack of funds for the prisoners. He pleads that while he and his fellow Commissioners risk their lives and everything dear to them in this difficult task, they should not be left in ruin or forced to abandon their responsibilities. He adds that they have lost their officers and servants to the plague and are constantly surrounded by the heartbreaking scenes of dying people. "I have," he says, "fifteen places filled with sick men, which puts me in unspeakable distress; the magistrates and justices, who should support us in our urgent needs, are preventing people from offering us shelter, fearing the infection and making them close their doors as we approach."
4 He was married at St. Thomas's, Southwark, 27th January, 1613. My sister Eliza was born at nine at night, 28th November, 1614; Jane at four in the morning, 16th February, 1616; my brother George at nine at night, Wednesday, 18th June, 1617; and my brother Richard, 9th November, 1622.—Note by Evelyn.
4 He got married at St. Thomas's, Southwark, on January 27, 1613. My sister Eliza was born at 9 PM on November 28, 1614; Jane at 4 AM on February 16, 1616; my brother George at 9 PM on Wednesday, June 18, 1617; and my brother Richard on November 9, 1622.—Note by Evelyn.
5 The whole of this passage, so characteristic of the writer's tastes and genius, and both the paragraphs before and after it, are printed for the first time in this edition. Portions of the preceding description of Wotton are also first taken from the original; and it may not be out of place to add that, more especially in the first fifty pages of this volume, a very large number of curious and interesting additions are made to Evelyn's text from the Manuscript of the Diary at Wotton.
5 This entire passage, which perfectly reflects the writer's tastes and talent, along with the paragraphs before and after it, is published for the first time in this edition. Parts of the earlier description of Wotton are also taken directly from the original; and it might be worth mentioning that, especially in the first fifty pages of this volume, many fascinating and intriguing additions have been included in Evelyn's text from the Manuscript of the Diary at Wotton.
8 On the 15th of April Strafford made his eloquent defense, which it seems to have been Evelyn's good fortune to be present at. And here the reader may remark the fact, not without significance, that between the entries on this page of the Diary which relate to Lord Strafford, the young Prince of Orange came over to make love to the Princess Royal, then twelve years old; and that the marriage was subsequently celebrated amid extraordinary Court rejoicings and festivities, in which the King took a prominent part, during the short interval which elapsed between the sentence and execution of the King's great and unfortunate minister.
8 On April 15th, Strafford gave his powerful defense, and luckily, Evelyn was able to attend. It’s worth noting that between the diary entries about Lord Strafford, the young Prince of Orange came to woo the twelve-year-old Princess Royal; their marriage was later celebrated with much joy and festivities at court, where the King played a major role, during the brief time between the sentencing and execution of the King’s esteemed but unfortunate minister.
9 His own portrait.
His portrait.
10 In such manner Evelyn refers to the tax of Ship-money. But compare this remarkable passage, now first printed from the original, with the tone in which, eight years later, he spoke of the only chance by which monarchy in England might be saved; namely, that of "doing nothing as to government but what shall be approved by the old way of a free parliament, and the known laws of the land."
10 In this way, Evelyn mentions the tax of Ship-money. But compare this notable passage, now being published from the original for the first time, with the attitude he had eight years later when he talked about the only way to save the monarchy in England: that is, by "doing nothing regarding government except what is approved by the traditional method of a free parliament and the established laws of the land."
14 That of Charles V.
That of Charles V.
15 A. D. 630.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ A.D. 630.
16 Or Sheba.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Or Sheba.
17 Dauphin.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Dauphin.
18 In the first and second editions of the "Diary" many trifling personal details, such as this mention of the author having sent his own picture in water colors to his sister, were omitted. It is not necessary to point them out in detail. They are always of this personal character; as, among other examples, the mention of the wet weather preventing the diarist from stirring out, and that of his coming weary to his lodgings.
18 In the first and second editions of the "Diary," many minor personal details, like the author sending a watercolor portrait to his sister, were left out. There's no need to highlight them individually. They all have this personal touch; for instance, the note about the rainy weather keeping the diarist indoors and him returning exhausted to his lodging.
19 Evelyn seems to have been much enchanted by the fragrancy of the air of this coast, for he has noticed it again in his dedication of the "Fumifugium," to Charles the Second.
19 Evelyn appears to have been quite captivated by the scent of the air along this coast, as he mentions it again in his dedication of the "Fumifugium" to Charles the Second.
22 The wine so called.
The wine that's called that.
23 The sense in which Evelyn uses this word is that of its old signification, as being very active and full of business, setting to work systematically with what he came upon, namely, to view the antiquities and beauties of Rome.
23 Evelyn uses this word in its traditional sense, meaning very active and busy, getting to work methodically with what he encountered, specifically to explore the historical sites and wonders of Rome.
24 Pope Alexander III., flying from the wrath and violence of the Emperor Frederick I., took shelter at Venice, where he was acknowledged, and most honorably received by the Senate. The Emperor's son, Otho, being conquered and taken in a naval battle, the Emperor, having made peace, became a suppliant to the Pope, promising fealty and obedience. Thus his dignity was restored to the Pontiff, by the aid of the Republic of Venice, MCLXXVIII.
24 Pope Alexander III, fleeing from the anger and violence of Emperor Frederick I, took refuge in Venice, where he was recognized and warmly welcomed by the Senate. The Emperor's son, Otho, was defeated and captured in a naval battle, and after making peace, the Emperor sought the Pope's favor, promising loyalty and obedience. This restored the Pope's dignity, thanks to the support of the Republic of Venice, 1778.
25 This very book, by one of those curious chances that occasionally happen, found its way into England some forty years ago, and was seen by the Editor of the early edition of this "Diary." It may be worth remarking that wherever, in the course of it, the title of "Defender of the Faith" was subjoined to the name of Henry, the Pope had drawn his pen through the title. The name of the King occurred in his own handwriting both at the beginning and end; and on the binding were the Royal Arms. Its possessor had purchased it in Italy for a few shillings from an old bookstall.
25 This very book, by one of those unexpected turns of fate that sometimes happen, found its way to England about forty years ago, and was seen by the Editor of the early edition of this "Diary." It's worth noting that wherever the title "Defender of the Faith" was added to Henry's name, the Pope had crossed it out with his pen. The King’s name appeared in his own handwriting both at the beginning and end, and the Royal Arms were on the binding. Its owner had bought it in Italy for just a few shillings from an old bookstall.
26 Such is the inscription, as copied by Evelyn; but as its sense is not very clear, and the Diary contains instances of incorrectness in transcribing, it may be desirable to subjoin the distich said (by Keysler in his "Travels," ii. 433) to be the only one in the whole mausoleum:
26 This is the inscription as copied by Evelyn; however, since its meaning isn't very clear and the Diary has some errors in transcription, it might be helpful to include the couplet that Keysler claims (in his "Travels," ii. 433) is the only one in the entire mausoleum:
He who sung this praises the pastures, the countryside, and the leaders.
Richer than what four consecutive kings In Denmark's crown have worn. —Shakespeare, "Hamlet," Act v. Sc. 2.
Theobald says, an UNION is the finest sort of pearl, and has its place in all crowns and coronets. The Latin word for a single large pearl, it is hardly necessary to add, is unio.
Theobald says, a COLLABORATION is the best type of pearl and belongs in every crown and coronet. The Latin word for a single large pearl, it goes without saying, is unio.
30 A guillotine.
A guillotine.
31 What particular Richard King of England this was, it is impossible to say; the tomb still exists, and has long been a crux to antiquaries and travelers.
31 It’s impossible to determine exactly which Richard, King of England, this was; the tomb still exists and has long been a puzzle to historians and travelers.
35 The celebrated Thomas, Earl of Arundel, part of whose collection was eventually procured for the University of Oxford by Evelyn, and is distinguished by the name Marmora Arundeliana.
35 The famous Thomas, Earl of Arundel, whose collection was eventually obtained for the University of Oxford by Evelyn, is known by the name Marmora Arundeliana.
36 Or della Scala.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ or della Scala.
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.
39 The lady mentioned here was Lucy, daughter of Richard Walters, Esq., from Haverfordwest. She had two children with the King: James, who later became well-known as the Duke of Monmouth, and Mary, whose life was less prominent compared to her brother's, but certainly much happier. She married Mr. William Sarsfield from Ireland, and after his death, she married William Fanshawe, Esq.
41 A copy of it is subjoined. "These are to will and require you to permit and suffer the bearer thereof, John Evelyn, Esq., to transport himself, two servants, and other necessaries, into any port of France without any your lets or molestations, of which you are not to fail, and for which this shall be your sufficient warrant. Given at the Council of State at Whitehall this 25th of June, 1650.
41 Here’s a copy of it: "You are hereby instructed to allow the bearer, John Evelyn, Esq., to travel with himself, two servants, and any necessary items into any port of France without any hindrance or interference from you. This will serve as your official authorization. Issued by the Council of State at Whitehall on June 25th, 1650."
appointed by Parliament authority,
Jo. Bradshawe, President.
"To all Customers, Comptrollers and Searchers, and
all other officers of the Ports, or Customs."
"To all Customers, Comptrollers, Searchers, and
all other Port or Customs officials."
Subjoined to the signature, Evelyn has added in his own writing; "The hand of that villain who sentenced our Charles I. of B[lessed] M[emory."] Its endorsement, also in his writing, is, "The Pass from the Council of State, 1650."
Subjoined to the signature, Evelyn has added in his own writing; "The hand of that villain who sentenced our Charles I. of Blessed Memory." Its endorsement, also in his writing, is, "The Pass from the Council of State, 1650."
43 A native of Essex, who was born in 1582, educated abroad, and, his family being Catholic, became a priest of that church, the sub-rector of the college at Douay. He advocated the Cartesian philosophy, and this brought him into an extensive correspondence with Hobbes and Descartes, in the course of which he Latinized his name into Thomas Albius, or De Albis. He died in 1676.
43 A native of Essex, born in 1582, he was educated overseas. Coming from a Catholic family, he became a priest in that church and served as the sub-rector of the college at Douay. He supported Cartesian philosophy, which led to extensive correspondence with Hobbes and Descartes, during which he Latinized his name to Thomas Albius, or De Albis. He passed away in 1676.
44 Sister of Colonel Lane, an English officer in the army of Charles II. dispersed at the battle of Worcester. She assisted the King in effecting his escape after that battle, his Majesty traveling with her disguised as her serving man, William Jackson.
44 Sister of Colonel Lane, an English officer in Charles II's army. She helped the King escape after the battle of Worcester, with His Majesty traveling disguised as her servant, William Jackson.
45 The Duke of Orleans, taken at the battle of Agincourt, 4 Hen. V., by Richard Waller, then owner of this place. See Hasted's "Kent," vol. i., p. 431.
45 The Duke of Orleans, captured during the battle of Agincourt, 4 Hen. V., by Richard Waller, who was the owner of this location at that time. Refer to Hasted's "Kent," vol. i., p. 431.
46 The book here referred to is in the British Museum, entitled "Joannis Barclaii Icon Animarum," and printed at London, 1614, small 12mo. It is written in Latin, and dedicated to Louis XIII. of France, for what reason does not appear, the author speaking of himself as a subject of this country. It mentions the necessity of forming the minds of youth, as a skillful gardener forms his trees; the different dispositions of men, in different nations; English, Scotch, and Irish, etc. Chapter second contains a florid description of the beautiful scenery about Greenwich, but does not mention Dr. Mason, or his house.
46 The book being referred to is in the British Museum, titled "Joannis Barclaii Icon Animarum," printed in London in 1614, small 12mo. It’s written in Latin and dedicated to Louis XIII of France, although the reason for this isn’t clear, as the author refers to himself as a subject of this country. It discusses the importance of shaping young minds, similar to how a skilled gardener shapes his trees; it also touches on the different temperaments of people across various nations, like the English, Scots, and Irish, etc. The second chapter includes an elaborate description of the beautiful scenery around Greenwich, but it doesn’t mention Dr. Mason or his house.
54 The text was 2 Cor. xiii 9. That, however persecution dealt with the Ministers of God's Word, they were still to pray for the flock, and wish their perfection, as it was the flock to pray for and assist their pastors, by the example of St. Paul.—Evelyn's Note.
54 The text was 2 Cor. 13:9. Despite the persecution faced by the ministers of God's Word, they were still to pray for their congregation and hope for their well-being, just as the congregation was to pray for and support their pastors, following the example of St. Paul.—Evelyn's Message.
55 Many years ago, Lord Dundonald revived the project, with the proposed improvement of extracting and saving the tar. Unfortunately he did not profit by it. The coal thus charred is sold as COKE, a very useful fuel for many purposes.
55 Many years ago, Lord Dundonald brought back the project, aiming to extract and save the tar. Unfortunately, he didn't benefit from it. The coal that was charred is sold as Cola, which is a very useful fuel for many purposes.
56 Evelyn means the younger Vane. This was "Vane, young in years, but in sage counsel old," the nobleness and independence of whose character, as well as his claims to the affection of posterity, are not ill expressed in the two facts recorded by Evelyn—his imprisonment by Cromwell, and his judicial murder by Charles II. The foolish book to which Evelyn refers was an able and fearless attack on Cromwell's government.
56 Evelyn refers to the younger Vane. This was "Vane, young in years, but old in wise advice," whose noble character and independence, along with his deserving place in history, are summed up in two events noted by Evelyn—his imprisonment by Cromwell, and his wrongful execution by Charles II. The foolish book mentioned by Evelyn was a bold and fearless critique of Cromwell's regime.
58 Beckmann, in his "History of Inventions," has written an account of the different instruments applied to carriages to measure the distance they pass over. He places the first introduction of the adometer in England at about the end of the seventeenth century, instead of about the middle, and states it to have been the invention of an ingenious artist named Butterfield.
58 Beckmann, in his "History of Inventions," has written a description of the various instruments used on carriages to measure the distance traveled. He suggests that the first appearance of the adometer in England was around the end of the seventeenth century, rather than the middle, and claims it was invented by a clever artist named Butterfield.
59 Not far from the course of the Roman Road from Chichester, through Sussex, passing through Ockley, and Dorking churchyard. Considerable remains of a Roman building have since been found on Waltonheath, south of this house.
59 Not far from the route of the Roman Road from Chichester, through Sussex, passing by Ockley and Dorking churchyard. Significant remains of a Roman building have since been discovered on Walton Heath, south of this house.
62 With the title of "The Late News, or Message from Brussels Unmasked." This, and the pamphlet which gave rise to it, are reprinted in "Evelyn's Miscellaneous Writings."
62 Titled "The Late News, or Message from Brussels Unmasked." This and the pamphlet that inspired it are reprinted in "Evelyn's Miscellaneous Writings."
68 Henrietta Maria.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Henrietta Maria.
69 This refers to the Dutchman, ante, 28th August, 1641; and to an extraordinary case contained in a "Miraculous Cure of the Prussian Swallow Knife, etc., by Dan Lakin, P. C." quarto, London, 1642, with a woodcut representing the object of the cure and the size of the knife.
69 This refers to the Dutchman, ante, August 28, 1641; and to an unusual case found in a "Miraculous Cure of the Prussian Swallow Knife, etc., by Dan Lakin, P. C." quarto, London, 1642, featuring a woodcut showing the object of the cure and the size of the knife.
70 Of a dark olive complexion. It has been noticed in other accounts that Katharine of Braganza's Portuguese Ladies of Honor, who came over with her, were uncommonly ill-favored, and disagreeable in their appearance. See Faithorne's curious print of the Queen in the costume here described.
70 With a dark olive skin tone. Other accounts have pointed out that Katharine of Braganza's Portuguese Ladies of Honor, who accompanied her, were notably unattractive and unpleasant in their appearance. Check out Faithorne's interesting print of the Queen in the outfit described here.
71 The Maids of Honor had a mother at least as early as the reign of Elizabeth. The office is supposed to have been abolished about the period of the Revolution of 1688.
71 The Maids of Honor had a mother at least as early as the reign of Elizabeth. The position is believed to have been abolished around the time of the Revolution of 1688.
72 See Evelyn's "Miscellaneous Writings."
74 Of Betchworth, in Surrey.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ From Betchworth, Surrey.
78 A monument to him in Deptford Church bears a most pompous inscription: "Qui fuit patriæ decus, patriæ suæ magnum munimentum;" to the effect that he had not only restored our naval affairs, but he invented that excellent and new ornament of the Navy which we call Frigate, formidable to our enemies, to us most useful and safe: he was to be esteemed, indeed, by this invention, the Noah of his age, which, like another Ark, had snatched from shipwreck our rights and our dominion of the seas.
78 A monument to him in Deptford Church has a very grand inscription: "Qui fuit patriæ decus, patriæ suæ magnum munimentum;" meaning that he not only restored our naval operations, but also invented the impressive and innovative naval vessel we call a Frigate, which is intimidating to our enemies and incredibly useful and safe for us. By this invention, he should truly be regarded as the Noah of his time, who, like another Ark, saved our rights and control of the seas from disaster.
80 A Roman Catholic.
A Catholic.
81 "Parallel between Ancient and Modern Architecture, originally written in French, by Roland Freart, Sieur de Chambray," and translated by Evelyn. See his "Miscellaneous Writings."
81 "A Comparison of Ancient and Modern Architecture," originally written in French by Roland Freart, Sieur de Chambray, and translated by Evelyn. Check out his "Miscellaneous Writings."
Transcriber's Note
Page headers in the original text indicated the location of the author. I have converted these to sidenotes. When the location did not change over several pages, only one sidenote was used.
Page headers in the original text showed where the author was located. I changed these to sidenotes. When the location stayed the same over several pages, I used only one sidenote.
Footnotes have been moved to the end of the book.
Footnotes have been relocated to the end of the book.
Inconsistencies have been retained in spelling, hyphenation, punctuation, and grammar, except where indicated in the list below:
Inconsistencies in spelling, hyphenation, punctuation, and grammar have been kept, except where noted in the list below:
- Comma removed after "King" on Page xxii
- Comma removed after "ARTIBUS" and word was moved to the start of following line on Page 17
- "extrordinary" changed to "extraordinary" on Page 22
- Period changed to comma after "considerable" on Page 50
- Colon changed to semicolon after "good" on Page 57
- "Cum-anno" changed to "Cum anno" on Page 60
- "ceörcuit" changed to "coërcuit" on Page 60
- Period added after "capital" on Page 66
- Comma changed to a period added after "head" on Page 68
- Comma added after "churches" on Page 70
- Period added after "Paris" on Page 73
- Period changed to a colon after after "vetustiss" on Page 98
- "qu" changed to "qui" on Page 99
- "suffiently" changed to "sufficiently" on Page 100
- "theorboes" changed to "theorbos" on Page 107
- "hicerigi" changed to "hic erigi" on Page 112
- "d Arpino" changed to "d'Arpino" on Page 119
- "Mosiac" changed to "Mosaic" on Page 123
- "Sextns" changed to "Sextus" on Page 124
- "S.P. Q.R.D.D." changed to "S.P.Q.R.D.D." on Page 124
- "tune" changed to "tunc" on Page 124
- "Mosiac" changed to "Mosaic" on Page 132
- "viz." changed to "viz" on Page 138
- Period added after "grosse" on Page 138
- Semicolon added after "Cybel" on Page 140
- "Scipio'o" changed to "Scipio's" on Page 140
- "forman" changed to "formam" on Page 144
- Quote added before "Inclyta" on Page 146
- "cinceres" changed to "cineres" on Page 153
- Colon changed to a semicolon after "brass" on Page 161
- Round bracket added after "excepted" on Page 164
- "Lanframe" changed to "Lanfranc" on Page 166
- Comma changed to a period after "VIII" on Page 167
- "sinking" changed to "stinking" on Page 178
- "suphurous" changed to "sulphurous" on Page 178
- Comma added after "Pegasus" on Page 178
- "gread" changed to "great" on Page 179
- Colon changed to semicolon after "mummy" on Page 182
- Period changed to comma after "ordnance" on Page 187
- Comma changed to a semicolon after "marble" on Page 200
- Period added after "October" on Page 212
- "thought" changed to "taught" on Page 213
- Extra "to" removed on Page 214
- Extra "of" removed on Page 217
- "Poti" changed to "Pot." on Page 223
- Comma added after "August" on Page 243
- "father s" changed to "father's" on Page 251
- "Cecelia's" changed to "Cecilia's" on Page 259
- "Musician's" changed to "Musicians" on Page 259
- Extra "the" removed on Page 264
- "captan" changed to "captain" on Page 265
- "taffet" changed to "taffeta" on Page 265
- "Febur's" changed to "Febure's" on Page 269
- "Cromwells" changed to "Cromwell's" on Page 274
- "Condè's" changed to "Condé's" on Page 275
- Period added after "1653" on Page 281
- Period added after "1653" on Page 281
- Duplicate "the" removed on Page 284
- Comma changed to a period after "Mr" on Page 284
- "delighful" changed to "delightful" on Page 285
- "Pophams" changed to "Popham's" on Page 285
- "June" changed to "July" on Page 287
- "June" changed to "July" on Page 287
- Comma added after "music" on Page 287
- "MSS." changed to "MS." on Page 288
- "meantine" changed to "meantime" on Page 290
- Period added after "prospect" on Page 296
- Comma added after "December" on Page 302
- Comma changed to a period after "it" on Page 308
- "indiffierently" changed to "indifferently" on Page 314
- "January" changed to "February" on Page 314
- "January" changed to "February" on Page 315
- "deperate" changed to "desperate" on Page 317
- Period added after "1657" on Page 317
- Period added after "country" on Page 317
- "commisioners" changed to "commissioners" on Page 326
- Comma added after "November" on Page 328
- "1650" changed to "1660" on Page 336
- Period added after "Crisp" on Page 356
- Comma changed to a period after "modern" on Page 356
- Period added after "St" on Page 360
- Extra "the" removed on Page 362
- Comma changed to a period after "St" on Page 364
- Period added after "Sylva" on Page 365
- "October" changed to "November" on Page 366
- Period added after "Worcester" on Page 366
- Period added after "St" on Page 366
- Comma changed to a period after "1664" on Page 376
- "againt" changed to "against" on Page 378
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