John Aubrey: My Own Life (28 page)

. . .

Glass is becoming
¹⁰⁹
more common in England. I remember that before the civil wars, ordinary poor people had none. But now the poorest people on alms have it. This year, between Gloucester and Worcester, three new houses with glass are being built. Soon it will be all over the country.

. . .

February

I have been helping
¹¹⁰
Mr Wood in his biographical researches and have discovered that Christopher Wren has played a trick on us by making himself a year younger than he really is. He has no reason to be ashamed of his age, given that he has made such admirable use of his time.

I have introduced
¹¹¹
Mr Wood to Mr Ralph Sheldon, another esteemed antiquary, who has devoted himself to study since he was widowed in 1663. He has a fine library and a cabinet of curiosities in his house at Weston in Warwickshire, and has been working on a catalogue of the nobility of England since the Norman Conquest. He is a Roman Catholic.

. . .

My friend Walter Charleton
¹¹²
, physician to the present King and the late King, has warned me against too much credulity in astrology. He has fulfilled my request and sent me the double scheme of his unhappy nativity, which Lord Brouncker worked out for him. But he says he has no belief in astrology and does not believe his birth considerable enough to be registered by the stars. He has personal experience of the inaccuracy of Lord Brouncker’s predictions: and thus he hopes to divert me from the rock upon which he has been shipwrecked.

. . .

Surely my stars
¹¹³
impelled me to be an antiquary. I have the strangest luck at it: things seem just to drop into my mouth, as though I were a baby bird.

. . .

March

I have now completed
¹¹⁴
the sale of that most lovely seat, my beloved Easton Pierse. I handed over possession of it today, and the farmland at Broad Chalke. I have lost 500 li. + 200 li. + goods + timber. I am absconded as a banished man.

There are places unlucky to possessors. Easton Pierse has had six owners since the reign of Henry VII (I myself have played a role in this), and one part of it, called Lyte’s Kitchin, has been sold four times since 1630. The new owner is Mr Robert Sherwin.

It is certain that there are some houses lucky and some that are unlucky; for example, a handsome brick house on the south side of Clarkenwell churchyard has been so unlucky for at least these forty years that it is seldom tenanted; and now no one will venture to live there. Also a handsome house in Holbourne that looked into the fields: about six tenants, one after another, did not prosper there.

. . .

Would I find refuge from my troubles by entering a monastery?

Of late, I have begun to wish there had been no dissolution of the monasteries under Henry VIII and that his reformers had been more moderate. The Turks still have monasteries. Why were our reformers so severe? There should be receptacles and provision for contemplative men, if not five hundred at a time, at least one or two. I have been thinking recently what a pleasure it would have been to travel from monastery to monastery. In the Lutheran countries the reformers were more prudent: they did not destroy the monasteries, only altered the religion.

I leave the task of reconciling the differences of the Roman and English Churches to them that have nothing else to do and know not how to spend their pains better. For my part, after so many tossings and troubles in the world, I cannot think of a better place for a man to withdraw than that learned Society of Jesus where the Jesuits study what they have a mind to: music, heraldry, chemistry, etc. I have always reserved this as my
ultimum refugium
. I do not waste my time and thoughts on religious disagreements, but how I wish I could retire to a monastery to advance my work in peaceful surrounds.

PART VII

Work

Anno 1671

MY CHIEF VIRTUE:
gratitude.

. . .

Now that I have sold my house and have lost all the money I ever received, I find I have a strong impulse to finish my description of Wiltshire. I cannot rest until I have done it, though I live in fear of the catchpoll crocodiles pursuing me for the debts I inherited from my father. I am in constant danger of arrest and am shifting between the households of my generous friends who help me.

. . .

Providence, thank goodness, has raised me good friends in my time of need and impoverishment. My lord Nicholas, Earl of Thanet, has invited me to stay with him at Hothfield in Kent. Also, Sir Christopher Wren and Mr Edmund Wylde will help me if they can.

. . .

April

I am concerned
¹
to discover that some of my letters to Mr Wood have gone astray. Almost all my letters to Mr Wood contain information I have found to help him in his biographical researches. He sends me queries and I search for the answers to them. I long to see him for one whole day with the longing of a woman. If I were more at liberty, I could serve him more. I must find a way to send him the manuscripts of Sir Walter Raleigh’s that I have collected.

I have now collected notes on half of Wiltshire, but I should go through and sort them, for I know nobody else will do it for me. My description of Wiltshire is two volumes in folio already. There is also Monumenta Druidum, my tract on Avebury and stone antiquities, to finish. And I must pursue some ideas that have occurred to me on the education of gentlemen.

. . .

In London I have received
²
some astrological advice from my friend Mr Henry Coley, but he warns me to use my own judgement too in the coming months.

. . .

Henry Coley was born
³
in Magdalen parish in Oxford on 18 October 1633. His father was a joiner, who lived close to where the Sheldonian Theatre has now been built on Broad Street. Henry works as a women’s tailor in Grays Inn Lane. His book on astrology,
Clavis Astrologiae
, was published three years ago in 1669; it is a most ingenious discourse. He comes by his learning through the strong impulse of his genius – understands Latin and French – yet never learnt grammar. He became enamoured of astrology and grew proficient at it in a short time. He is working on a second edition of his book, in which he will compile an account of the whole science of astrology from the best authorities. He is as good a natured man as can be and more is to be expected of him every day.

. . .

Whitsuntide

I have sent Mr Wood Mr Hobbes’s dates and a list of his writings. I have also written to him of Henry Coley, and of John Florio, whom King James made tutor in Italian and French to Prince Henry and Clerk of the Closet to Queen Anne.

. . .

John Florio was born
⁴
in London at the beginning of Edward VI’s reign (his father and mother having fled Italy for religious reasons). Under the persecutions of Queen Mary, the family returned to Italy, where he was educated. He came back to England under King James. He wrote two books on learning Italian, a dictionary, and a translation of Montaigne’s
Essays
. He died of the plague at Fulham in 1625.

. . .

I find my stomach better ordered this past year. Previously it was so tender that I could never drink claret without sugar, and white wine would cause it to disgorge. I do not know what has made the difference.

If you dissolve sugar
⁵
in some kind of waters (hard waters), you cannot boil it into sugar again. I had this for a truth from a sugar-baker of my acquaintance: a sober person.

It is a relief
⁶
to me to spend less time on horseback. It seems to me that between the years 1649 and 1670, I was never off horseback, but even so, I managed to glean some observations on my travels, of which I have a collection, two quires of paper in folio and a dust basket full of papers, some of which are valuable.

. . .

A man’s spirit rises and falls with his fortune: mine makes me lethargic of late.

. . .

June

I am interested
⁷
in Mr Gadbury’s Almanac for this year, and his proposals for the advancement of astrology. Mr friend Ralph Bathurst would laugh at this, but others take astrology as seriously as I do. I hope to contribute to the science by making a collection of the nativities of thirty distinguished men. I shall need to know the exact year, day, hour, if possible, of their birth, and the place.

Mr Gadbury assures me
⁸
that the first printing in England was in Westminster Abbey. For this reason, the name ‘Treasurer of the Chapel’ is retained.

. . .

I think it might be said
⁹
of antiquaries as of poets: they are born, not made. Mr Wood and I are driven by the same impulse towards antiquities. I would do some good in the world before I die,
ne videar inutilis esse servus
(lest I should seem a useless servant). The good I would do arises from my passion for the past.

. . .

I have never been riotous or prodigal, but sloth and carelessness are equivalent to all other vices. They have played their part in my troubles.

. . .

Mr Wood writes
¹⁰
to tell me that he will mention me in his book. This brings me such joy. My name will live within his living work, to remain there for ever, like an unprofitable elder or yew tree growing on the ramparts of some noble structure. I will ask him to add the name of my beloved house at Easton Pierse, where I was born, which would still be mine, if that had pleased Heaven.

. . .

I am rumoured
¹¹
to be beyond the sea; at Salisbury they say I am in Italy, which is good. Perhaps it will prove prophetically true. I have often considered joining the Jesuits, or some such learned society, as my last refuge. I have no leaning towards the Roman Church but would welcome a living and an opportunity to study in peace.

. . .

October

Mr Thomas Gore
¹²
has written to me to say he is sorry not to have been shown my collections of Wiltshire antiquities by my brother. He has asked me to look out for any newly printed heraldry books, so he can insert them into his catalogue ready for the press.

. . .

Sir John Hoskyns
¹³
wishes I would accompany him on a journey through Wales where there are many natural and antiquarian beauties to be observed. He believes there are many solitary places waiting to be discovered, unheard of in the late civil war and no doubt of much natural curiosity. Also, he tells me that by using a pendulum he has discovered a universal standard measure.

. . .

I have asked
¹⁴
my brother Tom to copy Bishop Jewell’s epitaph at Sarum so I can send it to Mr Wood for his book. I wrote to my old acquaintance Seth Ward, Bishop of Sarum, with many apologies, not expecting he would trouble himself about such matters, but perhaps get his secretary, or chaplain, to help answer Mr Wood’s questions. But Seth Ward sent me the devil of an answer and scorns the task. I am sure none of the cardinals would have treated me with such disdain. I have sent the questions on to others who might help in Devonshire and Cornwall.

Riches and honours are fine things at the age of twenty-five or thirty, but I vow to God I would not be Bishop of Sarum now for the trouble it would bring. My mother and I were left 700 li. per annum together by my father, and I would have been glad to keep it, or at least turn it over to my brothers. But never was a man so plagued by an estate. I have had more enjoyment since losing Easton Pierse and my land, than I had throughout the rest of the nineteen years since my father died.

. . .

Now that I have more leisure to write, I am making good progress with my notes for Mr Wood and my observations of antiquities. I have also nearly finished a comedy for the young playwright and poet Thomas Shadwell. His first play,
The Sullen Lovers
, was performed by the Duke’s Company in 1668, when he was twenty-eight years old. Afterwards, I intend to provide him with another play,
The Country Revell
, which will be very satirical against some of the most mischievous enemies I have collected in my tumbling up and down in the world. Revels are fallen from fashion now, but they used to be a time for the elders and betters of the parish to sit and observe the pastimes of young men: wrestling, shooting, bowling and dancing.