ng, and
at noon going to the 'Change; and seeing people flock in the City, I
enquired, and found that Turner was not yet hanged. And so I went among
them to Leadenhall Street, at the end of Lyme Street, near where the
robbery was done; and to St. Mary Axe, where he lived. And there I got
for a shilling to stand upon the wheel of a cart, in great pain, above
an houre before the execution was done; he delaying the time by long
discourses and prayers one after another, in hopes of a reprieve;
but none came, and at last was flung off the ladder in his cloake. A
comely-looked man he was, and kept his countenance to the end: I was
sorry to see him. It was believed there were at least 12 or 14,000
people in the street. So I home all in a sweat, and dined by myself,
and after dinner to the Old James, and there found Sir W. Rider and Mr.
Cutler at dinner, and made a second dinner with them, and anon came
Mr. Bland and Custos, and Clerke, and so we fell to the business of
reference, and upon a letter from Mr. Povy to Sir W. Rider and I telling
us that the King is concerned in it, we took occasion to fling off the
business from off our shoulders and would have nothing to do with it,
unless we had power from the King or Commissioners of Tangier, and I
think it will be best for us to continue of that mind, and to have
no hand, it being likely to go against the King. Thence to the
Coffee-house, and heard the full of Turner's discourse on the cart,
which was chiefly to clear himself of all things laid to his charge but
this fault, for which he now suffers, which he confesses. He deplored
the condition of his family, but his chief design was to lengthen time,
believing still a reprieve would come, though the sheriff advised him
to expect no such thing, for the King was resolved to grant none. After
that I had good discourse with a pretty young merchant with mighty
content. So to my office and did a little business, and then to my aunt
Wight's to fetch my wife home, where Dr. Burnett did tell me how poorly
the sheriffs did endeavour to get one jewell returned by Turner, after
he was convicted, as a due to them, and not to give it to Mr. Tryan,
the true owner, but ruled against them, to their great dishonour.
Though they plead it might be another jewell for ought they know and not
Tryan's. After supper home, and my wife tells me mighty stories of my
uncle's fond and kind discourses to her to-day, which makes me confident
that he has thoug