# Diary of the times of Charles II/Volume 1/Lady Sunderland to Mr. Sidney, December 16

LADY SUNDERLAND TO MR. SIDNEY.
December 16, 1679.
I began in my own mind to blame you, and to think the care I had taken to write every post, except one, had been utterly lost upon you; but yours of the 9th revived me much, which I received just now, and I know scarce any body that I could have patience to write to, except yourself, being sick with the headache and a thousand maladies, which will make my letter very short. I have told my Lord all you bid me, and he will give you an account of it himself; but I shall not trust to that, for he is so very ill of a cold that I fear he may fail you; therefore, I will charge myself with ​telling how your dispatches are approved when they are seen, for he received them but to-day. One part which relates to the Parliament I suppose you may answer yourself before this comes to your hands out of the Gazette, where you will find the Parliament prorogued till the 11th November next.
My Lord Hallifax and Essex are once again in very good humour, and will draw again. I leave you to make what reflections you think fit upon it, but sure they don't think things so desperate by their cheerful spirits; but more of this the next. I am not able to write in cipher, but out of it I can tell you I keep still my usual desponding temper; by the next, I believe, I may write you somewhat new. I think the King neglects the Duke of Monmouth enough of all conscience; all his places are disposed of but the Master of the Horse, and that is in commission, and he has no more to do with it than you. I have not heard his name these three days, and, when I did last, it was occasioned by my Lord Huntington and Stanford drinking his health, by which you may judge how considerable he is; he makes great court to Nelly, and is shut up in her closet when the King comes, from which in time he expects ​great matters. I can tell you nothing new but that poor Mrs. Crofts lies under grievous mortification, being most shamefully turned out of her lodgings, after having, like a fool, bestowed a great deal of money upon them. My Lord Plymouth is made the author of this rough action, but the Lady at the end of the gallery could not support her being there for fear of dangerous visits; but that which makes it yet more cruel to the poor maid was, that there is not so much as a pretence of any ​body's buying them, for she had got the money of old St. Alban's, and she won't be permitted to buy her pennyworth for a penny. After such a pretty expression, and being come to my fourth page, 'tis time to bid you good-night, and assure you I am unalterably yours,
A. S.
Mr. Godolphin, I believe, will best like your saying nothing to him on that subject, for I dare swear there neither is, nor ever will be, any such thing as his marriage.
* ↑ "Following his Majesty this morning through the gallery, I went, with the few that attended him, into the Duchess of Portsmouth's dressing-room, within her bedchamber, where she was in her morning loose garment, her maids combing her, newly out of her bed, his Majesty and the gallants standing about her; but that which engaged my curiosity was the rich and splendid furniture of this woman's apartment, now twice or thrice pulled down and rebuilt to satisfy her prodigal and expensive pleasures, whilst her Majesty does not exceed some gentlemen's ladies in furniture and accommodation. Here I saw the new fabriq of French tapistry; for design, tenderness of worke, and incomparable imitation of the best paintings, beyond any thing I ever beheld. Some pieces had Versailles, St. Germain's, and other palaces of the French king; with huntings, figures, and landskips, exotiq fowls, and all to the life rarely don. Then, for japan cabinets, screenes, pendule clocks, great vases of wrought plate, tables, stands, chimney furniture, sconces, branches, braseras, &c., all of massive silver, and out of number, besides some of her Majesty's best paintings."—Evelyn's Mem, i. 562. Such was the lodging of the lady at the end of the gallery.
* ↑ Mr. Godolphin married Mrs. Blagge, one of the Maids of Honour. She died in childbed of her first child. "She died," says Evelyn, "in the 26th yeare of her age, to the inexpressible affliction of her deare husband and all her relations, but of none of the world more than of myselfe, who lost the most excellent and inestimable friend that ever lived. Never was a more virtuous and inviolable friendship—never a more religious, discreet, and admirable creature—beloved of all, admired of all, for all possible perfections of her sex." Godolphin did not marry again.—Evelyn's Mem. i. 501.