Friday 8 March 1666/67

Up, and to the Old Swan, where drank at Michell’s, but not seeing her whom I love I by water to White Hall, and there acquainted Sir G. Carteret betimes what I had to say this day before the Duke of York in the business of Carcasse, which he likes well of, being a great enemy to him, and then I being too early here to go to Sir W. Coventry’s chamber, having nothing to say to him, and being able to give him but a bad account of the business of the office (which is a shame to me, and that which I shall rue if I do not recover), to the Exchequer about getting a certificate of Mr. Lanyon’s entered at Sir R. Longs office, and strange it is to see what horrid delays there are at this day in the business of money, there being nothing yet come from my Lord Treasurer to set the business of money in action since the Parliament broke off, notwithstanding the greatness and number of the King’s occasions for it. So to the Swan, and there had three or four baisers of the little ancilla there, and so to Westminster Hall, where I saw Mr. Martin, the purser, come through with a picture in his hand, which he had bought, and observed how all the people of the Hall did fleer and laugh upon him, crying, “There is plenty grown upon a sudden;” and, the truth is, I was a little troubled that my favour should fall on so vain a fellow as he, and the more because, methought, the people do gaze upon me as the man that had raised him, and as if they guessed whence my kindness to him springs. So thence to White Hall, where I find all met at the Duke of York’s chamber; and, by and by, the Duke of York comes, and Carcasse is called in, and I read the depositions and his answers, and he added with great confidence and good words, even almost to persuasion, what to say; and my Lord Bruncker, like a very silly solicitor, argued against me and us all for him; and, being asked first by the Duke of York his opinion, did give it for his being excused. I next did answer the contrary very plainly, and had, in this dispute, which vexed and will never be forgot by my Lord, many occasions of speaking severely, and did, against his bad practices. Commissioner Pett, like a fawning rogue, sided with my Lord, but to no purpose; and [Sir] W. Pen, like a cunning rogue, spoke mighty indifferently, and said nothing in all the fray, like a knave as he is. But [Sir] W. Batten spoke out, and did come off himself by the Duke’s kindness very well; and then Sir G. Carteret, and Sir W. Coventry, and the Duke of York himself, flatly as I said; and so he was declared unfit to continue in, and therefore to be presently discharged the office; which, among other good effects, I hope, will make my Lord Bruncker not ‘alloquer’ so high, when he shall consider he hath had such a publick foyle as this is. So home with [Sir] W. Batten, and [Sir] W. Pen, by coach, and there met at the office, and my Lord Bruncker presently after us, and there did give order to Mr. Stevens for securing the tickets in Carcasses hands, which my Lord against his will could not refuse to sign, and then home to dinner, and so away with my wife by coach, she to Mrs. Pierce’s and I to my Lord Bellasses, and with him to [my] Lord Treasurer’s, where by agreement we met with Sir H. Cholmly, and there sat and talked all the afternoon almost about one thing or other, expecting Sir Philip Warwicke’s coming, but he come not, so we away towards night, Sir H. Cholmly and I to the Temple, and there parted, telling me of my Lord Bellasses’s want of generosity, and that he [Bellasses] will certainly be turned out of his government, and he thinks himself stands fair for it. So home, and there found, as I expected, Mrs. Pierce and Mr. Batelier; he went for Mrs. Jones, but no Mrs. Knipp come, which vexed me, nor any other company. So with one fidler we danced away the evening, but I was not well contented with the littleness of the room, and my wife’s want of preparing things ready, as they should be, for supper, and bad. So not very merry, though very well pleased. So after supper to bed, my wife and Mrs. Pierce, and her boy James and I. Yesterday I began to make this mark (V) stand instead of three pricks, which therefore I must observe every where, it being a mark more easy to make.

12 Annotations

Terry Foreman   Link to this

"all the people of the Hall did fleer and laugh upon him"

fleer = to look contemptuously at, sneer (L&M Large Glossary)

Michael Robinson   Link to this

"Yesterday I began to make this mark (V) stand instead of three pricks, which therefore I must observe every where, it being a mark more easy to make."

L&M " ... this mark ...' insert [Image of a tick]
L&M " ... three pricks, thus ..." insert [three dots in an equilateral triangle with two forming the base]

Per L&M footnote 'these marks represent major pauses or dashes. Pepys had tentatively begun to use the new mark on 7 March and he frequently used the old one until 17 March.'

Bradford   Link to this

"I was a little troubled that my favour should fall on so vain a fellow as [Mr. Martin, the purser], and the more because, methought, the people do gaze upon me as the man that had raised him, and as if they guessed whence my kindness to him springs."

As my momma used to say when I was a little boy, "Your conscience bothers you, doesn't it?"

Robert Gertz   Link to this

"...because, methought, the people do gaze upon me as the man that had raised him, and as if they guessed whence my kindness to him springs."

Heaven...

"Can't imagine why they'd think that unless they saw Mrs. Martin always making goo-goo eyes at you and heard her telling everyone in sight that she and you were ... "

"'...'?"

"Tres '...'"

"Bess, I'm truly ashamed."

"That 1)you got caught, 2) you are in my debt for your ticket out of Purgatory, 3) (because) you love me, 4) all of the above. Remember this is Heaven, Sam'l."

"If I say 3, and 1, and very slightly 2...?"

"I'd be a little less sad..."

"If I also promise to attend your Celebrity Deathmatch against Robert Louis Stevenson and call him "tubercular wuss" from the stands with FDR while you beat the crap out of him while Mrs. Roosevelt clobbers Westbrook Pegler...?"

"Even less sad..."

Robert Gertz   Link to this

"...which vexed and will never be forgot by my Lord..."

"Abby?"

"Snookums? Good day?"

"Fair to middlin'...Took out that worthless Carcasse in council with the office. Roasted him but good."

"Well done, my Brunky."

"Yes, I must say. Pepys was talking a lot as well...Kept looking at me with this strange stare, little fellow."

"What did he say?"

"God knows...I was much too busy to pay heed. Obligatory stuff in defense of Carcasse I suppose. Good of him, you know. Can't let it look like we're all just rolling over the man. Anyway, I truly gave it to one James Carcasse."

"My dear Brunky..."

Robert Gertz   Link to this

"...my wife and Mrs. Pierce, and her boy James and I."

Betty Pierce does it again. Reminds me of a story about a very lovely British actress who was invited to rehearse some passionate TV scenes at the home of a very famous US movie/TV actor and got nervous via his rep for "amours". So she brought her very young kids along to each rehearsal, much to his annoyance.

I hate to think about the conversations she and James must have about Sam at home.

Carl in Boston   Link to this

and so he was declared unfit to continue in, and therefore to be presently discharged the office...
I am confused as to who is he. Carcasse? Lord Bruncker?

cape henry   Link to this

"...to Sir W. Coventry’s chamber, having nothing to say to him, and being able to give him but a bad account of the business of the office (which is a shame to me, and that which I shall rue if I do not recover)..."When you boil it out, the DoY and Coventry are the men that Pepys currently respects and fears the most.The rest is politics and gamesmanship.

Roger   Link to this

from 'yesterday',
'This day was reckoned by all people the coldest day that ever was remembered in England; and, God knows! coals at a very great price.'

to perhaps make clearer yesterday's annotations and questions on the weather of March 1667.....

March 1667 was the 5th coldest March ever recorded in 'Central England' and was indeed an average of 2C colder than February 1667. It quite rare for the average temperature in England to be colder in March than February but not unknown. The London temperature would normally be a touch 'milder' than in Central England. However, if London gets very cold in March it's often in an easterly airstream(as at present in 2010) and in this case is often colder than than further north(ie in central England) and so its possible that London's average may have been even colder than 2C?. Anyway, Pepys and co experienced temperatures in March lower than what I've known in my 58 years in London. It would not have been very pleasant for the poor of the time.
Follow the links to the Met Office website for more details.....

Paul Chapin   Link to this

@Carl in Boston, "he" in this context has to be Carcasse who was being discharged from his office. The next sentence relates how Bruncker, against his will, had to sign the order to confiscate ("secure") the tickets that Carcasse was holding.

Terry Foreman   Link to this

The vote on whether Carkasse should be discharged is one Carkasse himself never forgot. "Throughout his ‘Lucid Intervals’ [written in Bedlam and at Finsbury in 1678-79], Carkesse maintains that he has been thrown into Bedlam by the contrivance of his enemies:

"Satan’s Agents, my false Friends, combine
A Minister to Silence and confine.
I’m forc’d (though Sober) Bedlam to inherit,
When they, who put me here, the Prison merit;
For they’re possest, not I, by th’Evil Spirit…

"These enemies seem to include, interestingly, Samuel Pepys, who had caught Carkesse peculating at the Navy Office, and had him dismissed from office:

"… Mr. Pepys, who hath my Rival been
For the Duk’es favour, more than years thirteen:
But I excluded, he High and Fortunate…"

http://roy25booth.blogspot.com/2009/11/mad-hous...

Robert Gertz   Link to this

Wonder if anyone else who crossed a member of the Navy Office ended up in Bedlam? Sort of the seventeenth century equivalent of Patrick McGoohan's "Village".

"Where am I?"

"In St. Mary's of Bethlehem..."

"Who are you?"

"The new number 2 warder."

"Whose side are you on?"

"My friend, that would be telling..."

"I demand to speak to Warder number 1."

"You are patient number 60."

"I am not a patient, but James Carkasse, a free man."

"Ah, ha, ha, ha, ha...." window slot closes.

Aside "Well, Mr. Howe, another 'free man'...Like our dear Mr. Pembleton." Warder number 2 notes to warder number 3.

"Indeed, Mr. Creed. Though I did think the dancing master showed a bit more spirit in his first days here." Howe reflects.

"Mr. Pepys, I just wanted to speak to you about my husband's promotion..." murmurs a passing woman in the hall outside cell 60, she in the attendance of a guard.

"Now, number 23..." Creed eyes the faded Mrs. Bagwell as she pauses to eye him in terror. "Whose name do we never, never mention?"

"Sir." an attendant approaches. "Number 37 is at it again, claiming she's the true Lady Castlemaine, falsely imprisoned here for offending the King while an imposter takes her place outside."

"Room 101." Creed, coldly. Sigh to Howe. "They never learn, do they, 3?"

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