the war this year; that is, we shall keep what fleete
we have abroad in several squadrons: so that now
all is come out; but we are to keep it as close as
we can, without hindering the work that is to be done
in preparation to this. Great preparations there
are to fortify Sheernesse and the yard at Portsmouth,
and forces are drawing down to both those places,
and elsewhere by the seaside; so that we have some
fear of an invasion; and the Duke of York himself did
declare his expectation of the enemy’s blocking
us up here in the River, and therefore directed that
we should send away all the ships that we have to fit
out hence. Sir W. Pen told me, going with me
this morning to White Hall, that for certain the Duke
of Buckingham is brought into the Tower, and that he
hath had an hour’s private conference with the
King before he was sent thither. To Westminster
Hall. There bought some news books, and, as
every where else, hear every body complain of the dearness
of coals, being at L4 per chaldron, the weather, too,
being become most bitter cold, the King saying to-day
that it was the coldest day he ever knew in England.
Thence by coach to my Lord Crew’s, where very
welcome. Here I find they are in doubt where
the Duke of Buckingham is; which makes me mightily
reflect on the uncertainty of all history, when, in
a business of this moment, and of this day’s
growth, we cannot tell the truth. Here dined
my old acquaintance, Mr. Borfett, that was my Lord
Sandwich’s chaplain, and my Lady Wright and
Dr. Boreman, who is preacher at St. Gyles’s in
the Fields, who, after dinner, did give my Lord an
account of two papist women lately converted, whereof
one wrote her recantation, which he shewed under her
own hand mighty well drawn, so as my Lord desired a
copy of it, after he had satisfied himself from the
Doctor, that to his knowledge she was not a woman
under any necessity. Thence by coach home and
staid a very little, and then by water to Redriffe,
and walked to Bagwell’s, where ’la moher’
was ‘defro, sed’ would not have me ‘demeurer’
there ‘parce que’ Mrs. Batters and one
of my ‘ancillas’, I believe Jane (for she
was gone abroad to-day), was in the town, and coming
thither; so I away presently, esteeming it a great
escape. So to the yard and spoke a word or two,
and then by water home, wondrous cold, and reading
a ridiculous ballad made in praise of the Duke of
Albemarle, to the tune of St. George, the tune being
printed, too; and I observe that people have some great
encouragement to make ballads of him of this kind.
There are so many, that hereafter he will sound like
Guy of Warwicke. Then abroad with my wife, leaving
her at the ’Change, while I to Sir H. Cholmly’s,
a pretty house, and a fine, worthy, well-disposed
gentleman he is. He and I to Sir Ph. Warwicke’s,
about money for Tangier, but to little purpose.
H. Cholmley tells me, among other things, that he
hears of little hopes of a peace, their demands being
so high as we shall never grant, and could tell me