Welcome, Rusty! I recommend that while you begin at the beginning, as you have, also catch up with where the current "Reading" is, at Jan. 2, 1661, so that you can catch any "live" comments being posted.
"and my having a book, I believe did spoil it a little."
But he just bought the book the same day. He doesn't say that he read it sometime previously. He's sitting there with the book open in his lap, following along, and that's what spoils it for him. I don't believe this means "spoilers" in our sense of knowing in advance how it all turns out; I think he means to say that following along in the book didn't enhance his experience of the book.
Recapping the saga of the candlesticks and plate, so far: -- On December 24, Sam hears from Commissioner Pett that Pett presented a couple of silver plated flagons to Mr. Coventry, but Coventry "did not receive them" — turned them down. Sam, wishing also to remain in Coventry's good graces, decides to offer a similar gift (perhaps in hopes of having it turned down, as well), and bespeaks a pair of candlesticks at Alderman Blackwell's, a gold and silversmith. -- On December 26, he calls at Blackwell's, but the candlesticks are not yet ready. -- On the 27th, he stops by again, picks them up, and rides with Blackwell in a coach to Sandwich's place. (Blackwell was likely heading over there himself for other business.) Sam gives the sticks to Mr. Shepley, a servant of Sandwich's, perhaps so that Sandwich can get them to Coventry on Sam's behalf, or maybe so Sandwich can advise whether they are appropriate. -- Today, he heads back to Blackwell's and exchanges the candlesticks for "a brave state-plate and cupp", and carries those to Sandwich's. Clearly something has been left out of the story, but maybe either Sandwich advised Sam to get the plate and cup instead, or word came back from Coventry that he had plenty of candlesticks. -- Stay tuned, we should hear how the story ends.
What was the 17thC system for pulpit rotations? Presumably the regular fellow was on vacation (hah!) or sick, or called somewhere else for church business or some personal exigency. Where did the stranger come from to substitute? Was there a pool of retired priests, or some other source? Or, did priests swap places now and then just for a change of pace? Inquiring minds want to know.
Indications that Sam is paying the workmen out of his own pocket: -- He always refers to them as "my workmen". -- He keeps a close eye on them, "looking upon my workmen" often in this and previous projects. -- Sometimes their "laziness does much trouble" him — if the Navy were paying, maybe it wouldn't matter so much. -- The improvements are all designed to suit his needs and preferences (a door to the rooftop, a new entry door, wainscoting, etc., not necessary maintenance to keep the house in good repair. -- He gets Navy permission for certain changes, such as the rooftop access, but there is never mention that the Navy board agreed to pay for something or reimburse him.
On the other hand, so far he never mentions the cost of these improvement, which you'd expect him to do given his careful guardianship of his monetary wealth.
Small spoiler: It will be around two years before Sam is fully content with the house; until then workmen will be there, on and off, for a number of additional projects.
Sarah, upon review I think you are correct, the my Ladies are confusing but this must be Lady Batten. Liz had just spent two days in her company so maybe she did not tag along for that reason.
Note to Sam: Patience. You've been Clerk of the Acts for less than one year. Don't get ahead of yourself — knighthoods have to be earned. Sir Peter Buck held the job for seven years before getting tapped on the shoulder by James I. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pet…
Enough about the wine. "Only at noon" is telling: had Liz gotten home sooner, she might have had time to prepare a decent dinner. But since there's nothing to eat but some leftovers, he skedaddles over to my Lady's, where there's always good food and he appears to be welcome anytime. Liz probably hopped over to the Battens', where the larger household must have had a good repast ready.
Note "to pass away the time" in the passage about visiting the Batten household. And then the "wench" keeping him company as each is passing the time in their own way, reading and mending. Sam is genuinely lonely ("troubled with the absence of my wife"); he often passes time at home in conversation with Elizabeth, but she's off gallivanting, and there's no TV or internet to fill the gap.
It was with Laud the page that Sam was roaming Whitehall Palace back on Nov. 22, trying to get past locked doors in search of Montagu. At the time I though Laud was My Lord's equivalent of one of Sam's houseboys. But now today we have Laud's mom dining with My Lady, and Sam quizzing his proficiency in Latin. So clearly, Laud is not a common servant, but a gentleman-in-training.
Thanks Sarah, I will not call it a humble household anymore! Still, I enjoy that Sam is drafting papers for the King and Parliament in the morning, and hunting for a kidney stone (or bladder stone; I should not have said gallstone) at night. A nice story arc.
A nice journal entry that typifies the worlds that Sam is straddling these days. In the morning, as an officer of the Navy, he is writing legislation to be reviewed by the King and voted on by Parliament. At night he is visiting the humble household of his father, a taylor, and helping his mother look for a gallstone she chucked into the smoldering ashes of the fireplace.
"do bless Almighty God that he is pleased to send so sudden and unexpected payment of my salary so soon after my great disbursements. So that now I am worth 200l. again."
Sam appears to figure his new worth on a cash basis, which is probably smart in these uncertain times. Technically, he was worth the same 200l. yesterday, on what we call an accrual basis today, since he could count his salary as a receivable. But now he is worth 200l. in cold cash. (Side note to Sam: The Lord God Almighty doesn't actually disburse your salary.)
"In one day he collects 34L 19s ,9d Plus he will get more {30L} and he did not have to sue." (Vincent, 2003)
So to be clear, based on Peter and Pauline's later comments: He is NOT getting the 30l., because he already received it. Technically, until until his bill of impress was cleared, he owed that money back to the state. But not anymore. So this improves his balance sheet, but doesn't put cash into his pocket.
"6 men drinking 4 pints of absinthe, if that's what it was. That's an awful lot of absinthe per person!" (Ivan, 2015)
Indeed. All the talk in 2003 notwithstanding, we are not talking about absinthe, as we know it, at all. Wikipedia says that absinthe was "created in the canton of Neuchâtel in Switzerland in the late 18th century by the French doctor Pierre Ordinaire. Well past Sam's time; they were not consuming a spirit.
However, Wikipedia adds that wormwood extracts and "wine-soaked wormwood leaves" were in made as long ago as the ancient Greeks. And the Wikipedia page for wormwood itself says that "in the Middle Ages, wormwood was used to spice mead," and "in 18th-century England, wormwood was sometimes used instead of hops in beer."
And of course, it has been used to spice wine (remember, Sam calls it "wormwood wine". This page (https://www.medicinetraditions.co…) has a more detailed description of all the ills it cures, and includes specific mention of Rhenish wine. (They were at the Rhenish winehouse).
Today's entry is so full of interesting tidbits that in the course of 20 years of discussion, we still have not covered all of them. Here are a few more that are worth of note:
"At the end of dinner, my Lord Sandwich’s health was drunk in the gilt tankard that I did give to Mrs. Fox the other day."
"Drunk in the gilt tankard" means that this toast was drunk out of the tankard, with all assembled taking turns, not poured out of the tankard into individual cups or glasses. This practice survived into the 20th c. (and to the present day here and there) in the form of shared communion cups in worship services. Sam is rightly proud that the very tankard he purchased and delivered is now the center of attention at this gathering.
"my Lord did inquire for me, so I went to find him, and met him and the Duke of York in a coach going towards Charing Cross. I endeavoured to follow them but could not"
Without cell phones, it's amazing how often Sam manages to locate someone he's looking for, or who is looking for him. In this case, my Lord might have offered him a ride, but not when he is sharing a cab with the Duke of York (the king's brother). So Sam is forced to jog after them, but this being right after dinner (and more than just that one toast), he has to give up.
"[My Lady] took occasion to inquire (by Madame Dury’s late discourse with her) how I did treat my wife’s father and mother. At which I did give her a good account, and she seemed to be very well opinioned of my wife."
Why is my Lady asking about Elizabeth's parents? Maybe she is assessing Elizabeth's background and upbringing to see whether the Pepyses merit further advancement in society?
"From thence to White Hall at about 9 at night, and there, with Laud the page that went with me, we could not get out of Henry the Eighth’s gallery into the further part of the boarded gallery, where my Lord was walking with my Lord Ormond; and we had a key of Sir S. Morland’s, but all would not do; till at last, by knocking, Mr. Harrison the door-keeper did open us the door. And, after some talk with my Lord about getting a catch to carry my Lord St. Albans a goods to France..."
In a Pepys biopic, this would make a nice comic interlude — Sam and a page rattling around way after hours in a sprawling palace, trying keys in locks but nothing will work, finally knocking up the doorkeeper, all so he can briefly talk to Sandwich about shuttling the Earl of St. Albans and his stuff across the Channel. (Or maybe it's just the Earl's goods? Or should it say "Lord St. Albans and goods"?) It appears that St. Albans was being appointed ambassador to France, a post he held, on and off, from 1660 to 1668. (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lis…)
Here is such a cup, from Sam's time, that sold in 2016 for 11,500l. https://www.christies.com/en/lot/… As a turner, this is the kind of thing cozen Thomas may have been making.
To echo Bruce, above, about the survival of the laborious wash day into the 20thC: I remember my grandmother in the Netherlands going through that ritual in the 50s and 60s, complete with boiling pot and tongs for pulling things out. I also had an uncle who was a Dutch forest warden, and thus entitled to state-owned residence. As it happens, he got a brand new house, constructed around 1945 to his specifications. His wife, my aunt, came from a region in the Netherlands where laundry was like a religion, so they installed a fully-tiled room larger than the kitchen that was entirely devoted to laundrification, with built-in giant pots for washing and rinsing, a mangle, drying racks and whatever else. We were only allowed to look into this room from the hall. By the 50s, the washing machine was a standard item in Dutch homes, but they continued to use this anachronistic wash room for another couple of decades.
I read this particular investment proposal as relating to Sam's own stash, not Sandwich's. He is meanwhile looking for ways to invest Sandwich's 3000l.
Comments
Third Reading
About Sunday 1 January 1659/60
MartinVT • Link
Welcome, Rusty! I recommend that while you begin at the beginning, as you have, also catch up with where the current "Reading" is, at Jan. 2, 1661, so that you can catch any "live" comments being posted.
About Monday 31 December 1660
MartinVT • Link
"and my having a book, I believe did spoil it a little."
But he just bought the book the same day. He doesn't say that he read it sometime previously. He's sitting there with the book open in his lap, following along, and that's what spoils it for him. I don't believe this means "spoilers" in our sense of knowing in advance how it all turns out; I think he means to say that following along in the book didn't enhance his experience of the book.
About Saturday 29 December 1660
MartinVT • Link
Recapping the saga of the candlesticks and plate, so far:
-- On December 24, Sam hears from Commissioner Pett that Pett presented a couple of silver plated flagons to Mr. Coventry, but Coventry "did not receive them" — turned them down. Sam, wishing also to remain in Coventry's good graces, decides to offer a similar gift (perhaps in hopes of having it turned down, as well), and bespeaks a pair of candlesticks at Alderman Blackwell's, a gold and silversmith.
-- On December 26, he calls at Blackwell's, but the candlesticks are not yet ready.
-- On the 27th, he stops by again, picks them up, and rides with Blackwell in a coach to Sandwich's place. (Blackwell was likely heading over there himself for other business.) Sam gives the sticks to Mr. Shepley, a servant of Sandwich's, perhaps so that Sandwich can get them to Coventry on Sam's behalf, or maybe so Sandwich can advise whether they are appropriate.
-- Today, he heads back to Blackwell's and exchanges the candlesticks for "a brave state-plate and cupp", and carries those to Sandwich's. Clearly something has been left out of the story, but maybe either Sandwich advised Sam to get the plate and cup instead, or word came back from Coventry that he had plenty of candlesticks.
-- Stay tuned, we should hear how the story ends.
About Sunday 23 December 1660
MartinVT • Link
"A stranger made a dull sermon"
What was the 17thC system for pulpit rotations? Presumably the regular fellow was on vacation (hah!) or sick, or called somewhere else for church business or some personal exigency. Where did the stranger come from to substitute? Was there a pool of retired priests, or some other source? Or, did priests swap places now and then just for a change of pace? Inquiring minds want to know.
About Saturday 15 December 1660
MartinVT • Link
Indications that Sam is paying the workmen out of his own pocket:
-- He always refers to them as "my workmen".
-- He keeps a close eye on them, "looking upon my workmen" often in this and previous projects.
-- Sometimes their "laziness does much trouble" him — if the Navy were paying, maybe it wouldn't matter so much.
-- The improvements are all designed to suit his needs and preferences (a door to the rooftop, a new entry door, wainscoting, etc., not necessary maintenance to keep the house in good repair.
-- He gets Navy permission for certain changes, such as the rooftop access, but there is never mention that the Navy board agreed to pay for something or reimburse him.
On the other hand, so far he never mentions the cost of these improvement, which you'd expect him to do given his careful guardianship of his monetary wealth.
Small spoiler: It will be around two years before Sam is fully content with the house; until then workmen will be there, on and off, for a number of additional projects.
About Thursday 13 December 1660
MartinVT • Link
Sarah, upon review I think you are correct, the my Ladies are confusing but this must be Lady Batten. Liz had just spent two days in her company so maybe she did not tag along for that reason.
About Friday 14 December 1660
MartinVT • Link
Note to Sam: Patience. You've been Clerk of the Acts for less than one year. Don't get ahead of yourself — knighthoods have to be earned. Sir Peter Buck held the job for seven years before getting tapped on the shoulder by James I. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pet…
About Thursday 13 December 1660
MartinVT • Link
Enough about the wine. "Only at noon" is telling: had Liz gotten home sooner, she might have had time to prepare a decent dinner. But since there's nothing to eat but some leftovers, he skedaddles over to my Lady's, where there's always good food and he appears to be welcome anytime. Liz probably hopped over to the Battens', where the larger household must have had a good repast ready.
About Wednesday 12 December 1660
MartinVT • Link
Note "to pass away the time" in the passage about visiting the Batten household. And then the "wench" keeping him company as each is passing the time in their own way, reading and mending. Sam is genuinely lonely ("troubled with the absence of my wife"); he often passes time at home in conversation with Elizabeth, but she's off gallivanting, and there's no TV or internet to fill the gap.
About Sunday 9 December 1660
MartinVT • Link
For a Lord's Day, quite a bit of busy-ness! (And no afternoon sermon.)
About Friday 7 December 1660
MartinVT • Link
It was with Laud the page that Sam was roaming Whitehall Palace back on Nov. 22, trying to get past locked doors in search of Montagu. At the time I though Laud was My Lord's equivalent of one of Sam's houseboys. But now today we have Laud's mom dining with My Lady, and Sam quizzing his proficiency in Latin. So clearly, Laud is not a common servant, but a gentleman-in-training.
About Wednesday 5 December 1660
MartinVT • Link
Thanks Sarah, I will not call it a humble household anymore! Still, I enjoy that Sam is drafting papers for the King and Parliament in the morning, and hunting for a kidney stone (or bladder stone; I should not have said gallstone) at night. A nice story arc.
About Wednesday 5 December 1660
MartinVT • Link
A nice journal entry that typifies the worlds that Sam is straddling these days. In the morning, as an officer of the Navy, he is writing legislation to be reviewed by the King and voted on by Parliament. At night he is visiting the humble household of his father, a taylor, and helping his mother look for a gallstone she chucked into the smoldering ashes of the fireplace.
About Thursday 29 November 1660
MartinVT • Link
"do bless Almighty God that he is pleased to send so sudden and unexpected payment of my salary so soon after my great disbursements. So that now I am worth 200l. again."
Sam appears to figure his new worth on a cash basis, which is probably smart in these uncertain times. Technically, he was worth the same 200l. yesterday, on what we call an accrual basis today, since he could count his salary as a receivable. But now he is worth 200l. in cold cash. (Side note to Sam: The Lord God Almighty doesn't actually disburse your salary.)
About Wednesday 28 November 1660
MartinVT • Link
"In one day he collects 34L 19s ,9d Plus he will get more {30L} and he did not have to sue." (Vincent, 2003)
So to be clear, based on Peter and Pauline's later comments: He is NOT getting the 30l., because he already received it. Technically, until until his bill of impress was cleared, he owed that money back to the state. But not anymore. So this improves his balance sheet, but doesn't put cash into his pocket.
About Saturday 24 November 1660
MartinVT • Link
"6 men drinking 4 pints of absinthe, if that's what it was. That's an awful lot of absinthe per person!" (Ivan, 2015)
Indeed. All the talk in 2003 notwithstanding, we are not talking about absinthe, as we know it, at all. Wikipedia says that absinthe was "created in the canton of Neuchâtel in Switzerland in the late 18th century by the French doctor Pierre Ordinaire. Well past Sam's time; they were not consuming a spirit.
However, Wikipedia adds that wormwood extracts and "wine-soaked wormwood leaves" were in made as long ago as the ancient Greeks. And the Wikipedia page for wormwood itself says that "in the Middle Ages, wormwood was used to spice mead," and "in 18th-century England, wormwood was sometimes used instead of hops in beer."
And of course, it has been used to spice wine (remember, Sam calls it "wormwood wine". This page (https://www.medicinetraditions.co…) has a more detailed description of all the ills it cures, and includes specific mention of Rhenish wine. (They were at the Rhenish winehouse).
About Thursday 22 November 1660
MartinVT • Link
Today's entry is so full of interesting tidbits that in the course of 20 years of discussion, we still have not covered all of them. Here are a few more that are worth of note:
"At the end of dinner, my Lord Sandwich’s health was drunk in the gilt tankard that I did give to Mrs. Fox the other day."
"Drunk in the gilt tankard" means that this toast was drunk out of the tankard, with all assembled taking turns, not poured out of the tankard into individual cups or glasses. This practice survived into the 20th c. (and to the present day here and there) in the form of shared communion cups in worship services. Sam is rightly proud that the very tankard he purchased and delivered is now the center of attention at this gathering.
"my Lord did inquire for me, so I went to find him, and met him and the Duke of York in a coach going towards Charing Cross. I endeavoured to follow them but could not"
Without cell phones, it's amazing how often Sam manages to locate someone he's looking for, or who is looking for him. In this case, my Lord might have offered him a ride, but not when he is sharing a cab with the Duke of York (the king's brother). So Sam is forced to jog after them, but this being right after dinner (and more than just that one toast), he has to give up.
"[My Lady] took occasion to inquire (by Madame Dury’s late discourse with her) how I did treat my wife’s father and mother. At which I did give her a good account, and she seemed to be very well opinioned of my wife."
Why is my Lady asking about Elizabeth's parents? Maybe she is assessing Elizabeth's background and upbringing to see whether the Pepyses merit further advancement in society?
"From thence to White Hall at about 9 at night, and there, with Laud the page that went with me, we could not get out of Henry the Eighth’s gallery into the further part of the boarded gallery, where my Lord was walking with my Lord Ormond; and we had a key of Sir S. Morland’s, but all would not do; till at last, by knocking, Mr. Harrison the door-keeper did open us the door. And, after some talk with my Lord about getting a catch to carry my Lord St. Albans a goods to France..."
In a Pepys biopic, this would make a nice comic interlude — Sam and a page rattling around way after hours in a sprawling palace, trying keys in locks but nothing will work, finally knocking up the doorkeeper, all so he can briefly talk to Sandwich about shuttling the Earl of St. Albans and his stuff across the Channel. (Or maybe it's just the Earl's goods? Or should it say "Lord St. Albans and goods"?) It appears that St. Albans was being appointed ambassador to France, a post he held, on and off, from 1660 to 1668. (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lis…)
"Weary to bed," indeed!
About Wednesday 21 November 1660
MartinVT • Link
"A cup of lignum vitae"
Here is such a cup, from Sam's time, that sold in 2016 for 11,500l. https://www.christies.com/en/lot/…
As a turner, this is the kind of thing cozen Thomas may have been making.
About Tuesday 20 November 1660
MartinVT • Link
To echo Bruce, above, about the survival of the laborious wash day into the 20thC: I remember my grandmother in the Netherlands going through that ritual in the 50s and 60s, complete with boiling pot and tongs for pulling things out. I also had an uncle who was a Dutch forest warden, and thus entitled to state-owned residence. As it happens, he got a brand new house, constructed around 1945 to his specifications. His wife, my aunt, came from a region in the Netherlands where laundry was like a religion, so they installed a fully-tiled room larger than the kitchen that was entirely devoted to laundrification, with built-in giant pots for washing and rinsing, a mangle, drying racks and whatever else. We were only allowed to look into this room from the hall. By the 50s, the washing machine was a standard item in Dutch homes, but they continued to use this anachronistic wash room for another couple of decades.
About Friday 16 November 1660
MartinVT • Link
"but I would not now part with my money easily"
I read this particular investment proposal as relating to Sam's own stash, not Sandwich's. He is meanwhile looking for ways to invest Sandwich's 3000l.