Hewer, and Tom Edwards,
have lost their fathers, both in St. Sepulchre's parish of the
plague this week, do put me into great apprehension of
melancholy, and with good reason.
17th. To Gravesend in the Bezan Yacht, and there come to anchor
for all night.
18th. By break of day we come to within sight of the fleet,
which was a very fine thing to behold, being above 100 ships,
great and small; with the flag ships of each squadron,
distinguished by their several flags on their main, fore, or
mizen masts. Among others, the Soveraigne, Charles, and Prince;
in the last of which my Lord Sandwich was. And so we come on
board, and we and my Lord Sandwich newly up in his night-gown
very well. He received us kindly; telling us the state of the
fleet, lacking provisions, having no beer at all, nor have had
most of them these three weeks or month, and but few days' dry
provisions. and indeed he tells us that he believes no fleet was
ever set to sea in so ill condition of provision, as this was
when it went out last. He did inform us in the business of
Bergen, so as to let us see how the judgment of the world is not
to be depended on in things they know not; it being a place just
wide enough, and not so much hardly, for ships to go through to
it, the yard-armes sticking in the very rocks.
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