lost if the Prince had not come in, they having chased
us the greatest part of Saturday and Sunday.
Thence with my Lord Bruncker and Creed by coach to
White Hall, where fresh letters are come from Harwich,
where the Gloucester, Captain Clerke, is come in,
and says that on Sunday night upon coming in of the
Prince, the Duke did fly; but all this day they have
been fighting; therefore they did face again, to be
sure. Captain Bacon of The Bristoll is killed.
They cry up Jenings of The Ruby, and Saunders of The
Sweepstakes. They condemn mightily Sir Thomas
Teddiman for a coward, but with what reason time must
shew. Having heard all this Creed and I walked
into the Parke till 9 or 10 at night, it being fine
moonshine, discoursing of the unhappinesse of our
fleete, what it would have been if the Prince had
not come in, how much the Duke hath failed of what
he was so presumptuous of, how little we deserve of
God Almighty to give us better fortune, how much this
excuses all that was imputed to my Lord Sandwich,
and how much more he is a man fit to be trusted with
all those matters than those that now command, who
act by nor with any advice, but rashly and without
any order. How bad we are at intelligence that
should give the Prince no sooner notice of any thing
but let him come to Dover without notice of any fight,
or where the fleete were, or any thing else, nor give
the Duke any notice that he might depend upon the Prince’s
reserve; and lastly, of how good use all may be to
checke our pride and presumption in adventuring upon
hazards upon unequal force against a people that can
fight, it seems now, as well as we, and that will not
be discouraged by any losses, but that they will rise
again. Thence by water home, and to supper (my
father, wife, and sister having been at Islington today
at Pitt’s) and to bed.
5th. Up, and to the office, where all the morning,
expecting every houre more newes of the fleete and
the issue of yesterday’s fight, but nothing
come. At noon, though I should have dined with
my Lord Mayor and Aldermen at an entertainment of
Commissioner Taylor’s, yet it being a time of
expectation of the successe of the fleete, I did not
go, but dined at home, and after dinner by water down
to Deptford (and Woolwich, where I had not been since
I lodged there, and methinks the place has grown natural
to me), and thence down to Longreach, calling on all
the ships in the way, seeing their condition for sayling,
and what they want. Home about 11 of the clock,
and so eat a bit and to bed, having received no manner
of newes this day, but of The Rainbow’s being
put in from the fleete, maimed as the other ships
are, and some say that Sir W. Clerke is dead of his
leg being cut off.