about dividing the fleete, that the Dutch would not
be out in six weeks, which W. Coventry says is as
false as is possible, and he can prove the contrary
by the Duke of Albemarle’s own letters.
The Duke of Albemarle says that he did upon sight
of the Dutch call a council of officers, and they did
conclude they could not avoid fighting the Dutch; and
yet we did go to the enemy, and found them at anchor,
which is a pretty contradiction. And he tells
me that Spragg did the other day say in the House,
that the Prince, at his going from the Duke of Albemarle
with his fleete, did tell him that if the Dutch should
come on, the Duke was to follow him, the Prince, with
his fleete, and not fight the Dutch. Out of all
this a great deal of good might well be picked.
But it is a sad consideration that all this picking
of holes in one another’s coats—nay,
and the thanks of the House to the Prince and the
Duke of Albemarle, and all this envy and design to
ruin Sir W. Coventry—did arise from Sir
W. Coventry’s unfortunate mistake the other
day, in producing of a letter from the Duke of Albemarle,
touching the good condition of all things at Chatham
just before the Dutch come up, and did us that fatal
mischiefe; for upon this they are resolved to undo
him, and I pray God they do not. He tells me upon
my demanding it that he thinks the King do not like
this their bringing these narratives, and that they
give out that they would have said more but that the
King hath hindered them, that I suppose is about my
Lord Sandwich. He is getting a copy of the Narratives,
which I shall then have, and so I parted from him
and away to White Hall, where I met Mr. Creed and Yeabsly,
and discoursed a little about Mr. Yeabsly’s
business and accounts, and so I to chapel and there
staid, it being All-Hallows day, and heard a fine anthem,
made by Pelham (who is come over) in France, of which
there was great expectation, and indeed is a very
good piece of musique, but still I cannot call the
Anthem anything but instrumentall musique with the
voice, for nothing is made of the words at all.
I this morning before chapel visited Sir G. Carteret,
who is vexed to see how things are likely to go, but
cannot help it, and yet seems to think himself mighty
safe. I also visited my Lord Hinchingbroke,
at his chamber at White Hall, where I found Mr. Turner,
Moore, and Creed, talking of my Lord Sandwich, whose
case I doubt is but bad, and, I fear, will not escape
being worse, though some of the company did say otherwise.
But I am mightily pleased with my Lord Hinchingbroke’s
sobriety and few words. After chapel I with Creed
to the Exchange, and after much talk he and I there
about securing of some money either by land or goods
to be always at our command, which we think a thing
advisable in this critical time, we parted, and I
to the Sun Taverne with Sir W. Warren (with whom I
have not drank many a day, having for some time been
strange to him), and there did put it to him to advise