Sunday 9 August 1663

(Lord’s day). Up, and leaving my brother John to go somewhere else, I to church, and heard Mr. Mills (who is lately returned out of the country, and it seems was fetched in by many of the parishioners, with great state,) preach upon the authority of the ministers, upon these words, “We are therefore embassadors of Christ.” Wherein, among other high expressions, he said, that such a learned man used to say, that if a minister of the word and an angell should meet him together, he would salute the minister first; which methought was a little too high. This day I begun to make use of the silver pen (Mr. Coventry did give me) in writing of this sermon, taking only the heads of it in Latin, which I shall, I think, continue to do. So home and at my office reading my vowes, and so to Sir W. Batten to dinner, being invited and sent for, and being willing to hear how they left things at Portsmouth, which I found but ill enough, and are mightily for a Commissioner to be at seat there to keep the yard in order. Thence in the afternoon with my Lady Batten, leading her through the streets by the hand to St. Dunstan’s Church, hard by us (where by Mrs. Russell’s means we were set well), and heard an excellent sermon of one Mr. Gifford, the parson there, upon “Remember Lot’s wife.” So from thence walked back to Mrs. Russell’s, and there drank and sat talking a great while. Among other things talked of young Dawes that married the great fortune, who it seems has a Baronet’s patent given him, and is now Sir Thos. Dawes, and a very fine bred man they say he is. Thence home, and my brother being abroad I walked to my uncle Wight’s and there staid, though with little pleasure, and supped, there being the husband of Mrs. Anne Wight, who it seems is lately married to one Mr. Bentley, a Norwich factor. Home, and staid up a good while examining Will in his Latin below, and my brother along with him in his Greeke, and so to prayers and to bed. This afternoon I was amused at the tune set to the Psalm by the Clerke of the parish, and thought at first that he was out, but I find him to be a good songster, and the parish could sing it very well, and was a good tune. But I wonder that there should be a tune in the Psalms that I never heard of.

19 Annotations

aqua   Link to this

"...my brother along with him in his Greeke,. .." reading and comprehending the Masters at he same time- wow!.

Patricia   Link to this

"But I wonder that there should be a tune in the Psalms that I never heard of."
Usually Sam says "the first time I ever (heard/saw/etc.) in my whole life", but not this time. Evidently he thinks he knows all there is to know on this subject, which he should, since he goes to church twice nearly every Sunday.

dirk   Link to this

Around this time, on the "Eastern Front"...

Thomas Maynard writes to "My Lord" Sandwich
Lisboa, dated 8 or 18 August 1663

After earnest thanks for favours conferred upon the writer, he proceeds to say that "the King of Portugal's large promises to his Lordship that he would punctually observe the Articles of Peace ... are almost forgotten already." He sees no one Article of the Treaty, in the breaking of which the Portuguese had any interest, that has been really kept.
As to Tangier, the writer hopes to see such a structure built, upon the foundation which Lord Sandwich laid, "as will be to the eternal glory of the English Nation".

Source:
The Carte Papers -- Bodleian Library
http://www.bodley.ox.ac.uk/dept/scwmss/projects...

Thomas Maynard was the British Consul in Lisboa (Lisbon), Portugal. The "Articles of Peace" must be the Articles of the Royal Marriage from 1661. The "broken Articles" then would refer to the trouble with payments of the dowry (basically the Portuguese weren't honouring the original agreement, because they weren't able to), the problems surrounding the handover of Bombay, and the poor treatment of English troops, etc. .

A the time Maynard had given valuable assistance to the Portuguese ambassador with regard to negotiating the Marriage Treaty, and had presumably been working very closely with Sandwich in Lisbon to make the arrangements for the dowry. [Info from Pedro -- thanks!]

Michael Robinson   Link to this

"a tune in the Psalms that I never heard of"

The Clerk was almost certainly using, and Pepys alluding to, an edition of Sternhold and Hopkins "Psalms of David in Metre" (1562, first complete edition, which included tunes or chants based on the so called “old Geneva psalter” used by French Hugenots.) The editions published by Ravenscroft after 1621 include additional tunes by Morley, Tompkins, Dowland and Tallis. Copies were frequently bound in the back of C17th and C 18th. printings of the Prayer Book, if they had not already been included in the volume printed in a additional section at the rear.

Michael Robinson   Link to this

The Whole Booke of Psalmes (1621)

There is a complete scan of Ravenscroft's Edition on the web, with some of the tunes in modern notation as well.

http://www.pbm.com/~lindahl/ravenscroft/psalter/

TerryF   Link to this

Today's sermons' texts

"We are therefore ambassadors of Christ."

2 Corinthians 5
20 "Now then we are ambassadors for Christ, as though God did beseech you by us: we pray you in Christ's stead, be ye reconciled to God."

------------------

"Remember Lot's wife"

Luke 17
32 "Remember Lot's wife! 33 Whoever seeks to save his life loses it, but whoever loses his life preserves it."

(supposing the pericope on which the sermon was based included verse 33)

aqua   Link to this

factor: ii. 197 mercantile agent factory: v. 49 trading station
"...and supped, there being the husband of Mrs. Anne Wight, who it seems is lately married to one Mr. Bentley, a Norwich factor...."

TerryF   Link to this

factor (n.)
1432, "agent, deputy," from M.Fr. facteur "agent, representative," from L. factor "doer or maker," from facere "to do" (see factitious). Sense of "circumstance producing a result" is from 1816; the v. use in mathematics is attested from 1837. http://www.etymonline.com/index.php?term=factor

Bryan M   Link to this

factor (n.)

Of course, the definitive text for anyone who want to know more about the life of a factor in the late 17th century is John Barth's novel "The Sot-Weed Factor".

The opening sentence:
IN THE LAST YEARS of the Seventeenth Century there was to be found among the fops and fools of the London coffee-houses one rangy, gangling flitch called Ebenezer Cooke, more ambitious than talented, and yet more talented than prudent, who, like his friends-in-folly, all of whom were supposed to be educating at Oxford or Cambridge, had found the sound of Mother English more fun to game with than her sense to labor over, and so rather than applying himself to be the pains of scholarship, had learned the knack of versifying, and ground out quires of couplets after the fashion of the day, afroth with Joves and Jupiters, aclang with jarring rhymes, and string-taut with similes stretched to the snapping-point.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Sot-Weed_Factor

Xjy   Link to this

Sam's silver pen
Hm, a compulsive note-taker? But he only noted the headings down. A bit obsessive with his habits? Does anyone know if he took his notes in shorthand, too?
So many forces at work in Sam at once. ADHD?

Peter   Link to this

So, Phil, is George Gifford a relative of yours?

Robert Gertz   Link to this

"...leaving my brother John to go somewhere else..."

John's Adventure of Five Hours...

"Having escaped the clutches of my pedantic brother, I did make at once for a certain house I knew of old wherein to make the most of my liberty...And to meet, to better my fortune, with a certain party..."

A disreputable Fleet Street house of ill repute...Womanned by a force of ladies of "pleasure"...

"Mr. Pepys..." nervous voice, darting look round.

"Mr. Fields." John nods.

"Please, sir. Not so loud." Fields again looks round. The mistress of the house, a rather surprisingly innocent-looking lady, given her occupation, frowns at him.

Not so good for business hanging round at the bar talking in whispers like that, Mrs. Bagwell shakes her lovely head. Hmmn, that young fellow looks a little like that pompous, lecherous idiot William works for...

The one I might actually have to break my rule of never involving myself with the customers for...But that what love of one's sweet husband can do for you.

"Betty..." she turns to one of her part-timers, a large lady who ran her own stall business in Westminster as well. "Go over to those two and remind them this is a house of pleasure...Not a secret political debating club. If they don't want "company" they can go commit verbal treason in the coffee house."

"Sure. Say, isn't that young Mr. Pepys, brother of Mr. Pepys of the Naval Office?" Betty asks, staring.

"Now, Pepys." Fields continues. "Lets keep this simple. Just give me what you've learned of your brother's dealings with Sir William Warren and I should have enough to go to the Parliament. And when I recover my position and am properly rewarded, so you'll be."

"Hardly in the family interest, Fields." John begins. "Still..." he appreciatively eyes the bag of cash Fields has just placed on the table to move things along. "If my brother's done wrong, naturally I'd want justice done for the King's sake."

"Johnny Pepys..." Betty has reached them, pulling him round in his chair to face her and taking a seat in his lap to his somewhat groaning surprise...

"Now what's a young scholar like you doing in a place like this on a Sunday? Hello, Fieldsy..." she grins at the evermore nervous Fields.

"Betty Lane. How's the girl?" John pats her, discreetly trying to rescue his crushed legs...

"Your brother's not going to be pleased with you, Johnny." she mock frowns, pinching his cheek.

"Think he'll tell you that himself next time he towses you, Betty?" John grins, Fields looking a bit nonplused...

Self-appointed demigod of virtue Pepys?
And this one? He eyes the ample Betty.

With his wife, little Pepys goes this way? God, I have taken the wrong approach with him...And could've save a good deal of cash, sighing at the bag now firmly in John's possession.

"Here's what I found in Sam's closet so far. I'll get the documents on the new Warren mast contract to you by tomorrow, Fields." John pushes a small stack of paper taken from a pouch at his side to Fields.

Ah...Come to Poppa. Fields eagerly grabs, looking over.

"Johnny...You want to take me somewhere? Or maybe..." Betty nods to the door to the stairs leading to other even more "pleasant" parts of the house.

"I have another meeting here, lass. Business, you know. Can only be done in London. But stick around, Betty. I'll take you for a walk to Halfway House for some cheesecake."

"Good enow, Johnny. But don't get our ladyship Bagwell riled. She don't like the clients doing all their affairs here...Depresses the trade."

"She won't mind this one. He's a spender, Betty."

"Oh...?" perk of head. "Is he...nice?"

"Nice enough. A Dutchman."

"I must be going, Pepys." Fields offers a quick hand. "I'll be looking forward to hearing from you. As will my allies in Parliament."

"You will, Fields." John nods.

"There's your Dutchman..." Betty notes, spying a solemn, out-of-place-looking, stolid, though rather handsome middle-aged man peering round at the entrance, Mrs. Bagwell hurrying over to offer greeting and make inspection.

"No...That's Admiral Penn. Guess his gout really has let up. There's my man." he points to a tall, blond fellow who smiles over in response.

Hmmn...Haven't I seen him with Mr. Pepys? Betty ponders.

"Mr Turner? Or should I say, Herr DeRutyer?" John greets the man.

Yes, one of Mr. Pepys' lads following him about...Betty nods.

"Cautiously, Mr. Pepys." Turner/DeRutyer smiles. "Though we're not yet at war again, some might find my true name offensive...And suspicious." he eyes Betty who smiles at him.

"Betty, get Mr...Turner a good pint of ale, will you?" John pats her and gives a slight sigh as his thigh is unburdened...

"So Turner?"

"Pepys? Did you manage to acquire the little item I described to you?"

"Aye...All the Hague waiting breathlessly, Turner?" John smiles coolly, pushing a document over. "I'm surprised you couldn't get hold of this yourself."

"Your brother keeps it locked up at home always, only brings it to the Duke and Coventry on meeting days...Ah, the only thing." Turner smiles. Discreetly shoving a bag John's way.

"Worth this whole miserable time in England. My poor wife will be pleased, she's been longing to speak her native tongue again. All Holland's in your debt, Mr. Pepys."

"I'm for a free trade world, Mr. Turner. And have investments in all parties." John notes. "If this will level the playing field, I can only see it as increasing world trade to the benefit of all."

"An internationalist. I salute you, John." Turner nods.

"Ale, boys." Betty returns.

"Ah, just in time, Betty. We shall be off in just a mo. Turner, to a morning's business well done." John raises mug.

***

Robert Gertz   Link to this

"Say, Betty...You still read Aristotle?" John leading Betty to the door, nodding to a somewhat startled Admiral Penn.

"Johnny, I be next to a booksellers, what else 'ave I got to do all day...When not at my second trade."

"Well, do think you could explain...?"

C.J.Darby   Link to this

Great stuff Robert, I hope you do this professionly,or it's a grat talent wasted.

Gay F. Gertz   Link to this

So I and his story fans tell him. But he's also a brilliant scientist and a pretty fair husband.

Though that was mean to poor John. Not to mention poor Mrs. Bagwell. I'd rather another letter from Brampton.

Does anyone else think Lady Batten seems to pay Sam a lot of attention?

Robert Gertz   Link to this

Off topic, Gay. (Thank you, dear)

Yes, she does. But I have faith in Mingo's abilities to keep the lady fully entertained.

***

"So lobsters, eh? Brother Sam's getting extravagant with his ladies." John grins as he sits with Betty Lane at the Halfway House.

"Johnny...Your brother's a sweet little thing and very kind to me."

"No doubt my Lady Bess would appreciate hearing of his kindnesses."

"John...Such a forward lad you are. And here your brother's done so much for you. Now behave yourself, boy. I rather think your brother's...Johnny!" Pulls away from a hearty grab and kiss.

"Tell me, Betty. Do his knees knock in fright the whole time for fear someone'll see the great and lordly Clerk of the Act? 'Sir...Why do you kiss the gentlewoman so?'..." a grin.

"Johnny?!" a shocked Ms. Lane. "Was that you?"

"One of Sam's boy Wayneman's pals. The boy laughed himself sick over it telling me the story last time he was in Brampton."

***

SamualP   Link to this

Meanwhile, back in the 21st C, at the Gertz household:

Bobby… Bobby. Time for bed, dear

Yes, Mom.

Your not still on the Internet are you, Bobby?

Yes, Mom.

You might be a child prodigy, dear, but you’re only 11 years old and you need your 8 hours sleep.

Yes, Mom.

You’re not “pretending” to be other people again, are you Bobby? Remember what your probation officer said about those kind of games.

Yes, Mom

And you won’t be helping those nice men from Nigeria with their emails again will you?

No, Mom.

If Interpol had found out it was all your idea, there would have been real trouble. It was just so lucky that all your FBI files disappeared as well. Your father was very upset, even after you bought him that nice new BMW.

Yes, Mom.

And, Bobby;

Yes, Mom.

Don’t forget to brush your teeth, dear.

Yes, Mom.

As his mother’s voice trails off down the hall, young Robert presses a hidden button on his desk and takes his diary from its secret compartment. Before making his daily entry, he pauses to admire the title written in a juvenile but confident hand on the cover: BOBBY GERTZ – BOY GENIUS/CRIMINAL MASTERMIND

Australian Susan   Link to this

Sam and his note-taking

As Mr Mills was preaching a rather near the edge sermon (well, according to Sam, anyway), he must have been disconcerted to see someone (known to often snooze in sermons) not only wide-awake, but taking notes........
C'mon RG - how about an insight into the Mills household??

Gay F. Gertz   Link to this

I tell him he's a little boy all the time, Sam. But I love to think of him giving a CDC presentation and all the time anxious to run off and write down his latest idea for a note here or a story.

Yeah, RG-Mills household!

(If only Mrs. Pepys could've sometimes used her husband's computer)

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