126 • Confusionwell’s shipwright husband for the fool by dangling hopes of lucrative carpen-
try work with the navy before him while dallying with his wife time after
time. On this occasion he was not lucky in love, however, and he took the
river home through pelting rain, falling into bed “in a most violent sweat.”
On another night’s adventure, returning in pitch dark from Hampton Court,
he docked at the heavily infected tapestry-making village of Mortlake for
some pleasure with his friend Nan.^26
Pepys’ most death-defying adventure happened late that night after ca-
rousing with Nan. He steered a wherry homeward, and as it approached
London Bridge he chose the narrow route through the middle two supports.
Here the water rushed in a torrent; the supports had been built up at the base
many times during the past century, narrowing the passage and increasing
the force of the water. The rider would go through at breakneck speed, with
a sudden drop as the water pooled out on the farther side. The sane way was
to go through the widely spaced supports on either side, where the water
moved gently. This night Pepys chose the fast way and maneuvered his boat
through successfully—no easy feat, for many had perished in the attempt—
making it home safely by 2 :00 a.m.He recorded the event without revealing
why he had chosen the route or acknowledging the risk of dying.
As July ended Pepys reflected on what had passed since the great exodus
from his city. The parish church bells tolled five or six times a day, he said. “I
begin to think of setting things in order, which pray God enable me to put,
both as to soul and body.” He missed Elizabeth, yet when he visited his wife
he was troubled “that this absence makes us a little strange instead of more
fond.” There were reports that the Exchequer office, which handled royal fi-
nances, would soon be moved to the country. Navy officials sometimes met
at Deptford, but that port town had also become infected. John Evelyn,
commissioner for the sick and captured sailors, lived very close to shut-up
houses.^27
Regardless of the encroaching epidemic, Pepys had enjoyed spectacular
successes these past four weeks and was able to compartmentalize his pluses
and minuses. “But Lord,” he said with detachment from his own perils, “to
see what fear all the people [removed to the country] do live would make one
mad.” How different it was for him: “Thus I end this month with the great-
est joy that ever I did in all my life, because I have spent the greater part of it
with abundance of joy and honour, and pleasant Journys and brave entertain-
ments, and without cost of money.”^28 This euphoria was brought on by his
profits this month—greater than at any time in his life—and there was still