21st (Office day). There all the morning and afternoon till 4 o’clock. Hence to Whitehall, thinking to have put up my, books at my Lord’s, but am disappointed from want of a chest which I had at Mr. Bowyer’s. Back by water about 8 o’clock, and upon the water saw the corpse of the Duke of Gloucester brought down Somerset House stairs, to go by water to Westminster, to be buried to-night. I landed at the old Swan and went to the Hoop Tavern, and (by a former agreement) sent for Mr. Chaplin, who with Nicholas Osborne and one Daniel came to us and we drank off two or three quarts of wine, which was very good; the drawing of our wine causing a great quarrel in the house between the two drawers which should draw us the best, which caused a great deal of noise and falling out till the master parted them, and came up to us and did give us a large account of the liberty that he gives his servants, all alike, to draw what wine they will to please his customers; and we did eat above 200 walnuts. About to o’clock we broke up and so home, and in my way I called in with them at Mr. Chaplin’s, where Nicholas Osborne did give me a barrel of samphire,
[Samphire was formerly a favourite pickle; hence the “dangerous trade” of the samphire gatherer ("King Lear,” act iv. sc. 6) who supplied the demand. It was sold in the streets, and one of the old London cries was “I ha’ Rock Samphier, Rock Samphier!”]
and showed me the keys of Mardyke Fort,
[A fort four miles east
of Dunkirk, probably dismantled when that
town was sold to Louis
XIV.]
which he that was commander of the fort sent him as a token when the fort was demolished, which I was mightily pleased to see, and will get them of him if I can. Home, where I found my boy (my maid’s brother) come out of the country to-day, but was gone to bed and so I could not see him to-night. To bed.
22nd. This morning I called up my boy, and found him a pretty, well-looked boy, and one that I think will please me. I went this morning by land to Westminster along with Luellin, who came to my house this morning to get me to go with him to Capt. Allen to speak with him for his brother to go with him to Constantinople, but could not find him. We walked on to Fleet street, where at Mr. Standing’s in Salsbury Court we drank our morning draft and had a pickled herring. Among other discourse here