e buoy of the Nore, and great
reason I had to rejoice at it, for it proved the night of as great a
storme as was almost ever remembered. Late at the office, and so home to
bed. This day, calling at Mr. Rawlinson's to know how all did there, I
hear that my pretty grocer's wife, Mrs. Beversham, over the way there,
her husband is lately dead of the plague at Bow, which I am sorry for,
for fear of losing her neighbourhood.

15th. Up and all the morning at the office, busy, and at noon to the
King's Head taverne, where all the Trinity House dined to-day, to choose
a new Master in the room of Hurlestone, that is dead, and Captain Crispe
is chosen. But, Lord! to see how Sir W. Batten governs all and tramples
upon Hurlestone, but I am confident the Company will grow the worse for
that man's death, for now Batten, and in him a lazy, corrupt, doating
rogue, will have all the sway there. After dinner who comes in but my
Lady Batten, and a troop of a dozen women almost, and expected, as I
found afterward, to be made mighty much of, but nobody minded them;
but the best jest was, that when they saw themselves not regarded, they
would go away, and it was horrible foule weather; and my Lady Batten
walking through the dirty lane with new spicke and span white shoes, she
dropped one of her galoshes in the dirt, where it stuck, and she forced
to go home without one, at which she was horribly vexed, and I led
her; and after vexing her a little more in mirth, I parted, and to
Glanville's, where I knew Sir John Robinson, Sir G. Smith, and Captain
Cocke were gone, and there, with the company of Mrs. Penington, whose
father, I hear, was one of the Court of justice, and died prisoner, of
the stone, in the Tower, I made them, against their resolutions, to stay
from houre to houre till it was almost midnight, and a furious, darke
and rainy, and windy, stormy night, and, which was best, I, with
drinking small beer, made them all drunk drinking wine, at which Sir
John Robinson made great sport. But, they being gone, the lady and I
very civilly sat an houre by the fireside observing the folly of this
Robinson, that makes it his worke to praise himself, and all he say
and do, like a heavy-headed coxcombe. The plague, blessed be God! is
decreased 400; making the whole this week but 1300 and odd; for which
the Lord be praised!

16th. Up, and fitted myself for my journey down to the fleete, and
sending my money and boy down by water to Eriffe,--[Erith]