Sunday 24 June 1660

Sunday. Drank my morning draft at Harper’s, and bought a pair of gloves there. So to Mr. G. Montagu, and told him what I had received from Dover, about his business likely to be chosen there.

So home and thence with my wife towards my father’s. She went thither, I to Mr. Crew’s, where I dined and my Lord at my Lord Montagu of Boughton in Little Queen Street.

In the afternoon to Mr. Mossum’s with Mr. Moore, and we sat in Mr. Butler’s pew. Then to Whitehall looking for my Lord but in vain, and back again to Mr. Crew’s where I found him and did give him letters. Among others some simple ones from our Lieutenant, Lieut. Lambert to him and myself, which made Mr. Crew and us all laugh. I went to my father’s to tell him that I would not come to supper, and so after my business done at Mr. Crew’s I went home and my wife within a little while after me.

My mind all this while full of thoughts for my place of Clerk of the Acts.

28 Annotations

First Reading

Paul Brewster  •  Link

Drank my morning draft at Harper's, and bought a pair of gloves there
apparently one could do more than eat and drink in taverns and coffee-houses.

Tim Bray  •  Link

I bet there was a peddler in the tavern.

Paul Brewster  •  Link

my Lord Montagu of Boughton
This may in fact be yet another Edward.

Montagu, Edward (1616-1684) 2nd Baron Montagu of Boughton. Not listed in L&M companion.

Yet another Edward was 1st Baron Montagu of Boughton (c. 1562 - 1644)

Like a shipment of consonants to Bosnia ... England badly needs a shipment of first names.

Firenze  •  Link

I think it was consonants to Ethiopia, vowels to Bosnia... (I take it the reference here is to a Dave Barry column? -… - for the non-addicted)

On names (limited choice of) - it was certainly the case in my background - rural Ireland - that eldest sons were named for fathers, and grandparents' names given to further siblings. I can remember being at college with girls - born in the 1960s - who were nevertheless called 'Mabel' and 'Bertha' after Edwardian grannies or aunts.

Mostly this seemed to stem from a strong sense of family, not untainted sometimes by a consideration that the named-for relative might thereby 'remember' them when it came to disposing of property. So, pretty consistent with Pepys' day.

Martin Richards  •  Link

On lack of variety in names...
Looking back at my family tree, the lack of variety in first names continues right through 19th century in families from a variety of backgrounds, including teachers and domestic staff. Of course this seems to lead to nicknames, which makes tieing the oral history to the written much more fun.

The determination to name a son after the father can also be a sad reminder of the infant mortality rate: in one case, George and Mary have George, George, Thomas and then another George :-(

Phil  •  Link

Edward Mountagus.

Yes, I was rather confused by who this was. The Latham Index lists both Edwards: 1st Baron Mountagu of Boughton (d. 1644) and 2nd Lord Mountagu of Boughton (d. 1684). But it doesn't refer to this mention in the diary under the latter's entry. For now, I'll assume this was the 2nd Lord, rather than anyone else, and create a page for them.

Todd Bernhardt  •  Link

Are they having a laugh at Lieut. Lambert's expense?

It sounds to me as if they could be laughing *at* Lambert's letters to Montagu and Pepys, rather than laughing *with* them. Am I reading this use of the word "simple" correctly?

helena murphy  •  Link

The tradition of naming children after older family members still runs in Ireland today ,especially in more conservative educated families. As I attended a convent school the majority of my classmates bore continental or Irish saints' names. It was at the turn of the century with the rise of Irish nationalism that names of Gaelic origin became very fashionable,a trend which continues to this day.Interestingly enough, in cities many children were also named after members of the English royal family, this is especially true of the 19th century.

Ann  •  Link

Todd -- I took the "simple" to mean it was a chatty-type letter, rather than all the business type ones they've been dealing with. Therefore, it was amusing, instead of serious....

M.Stolzenbach  •  Link

I agree with Todd, that the "simple" letters, to the mind of Pepys and his friends, revealed some quality of ineptness or ignorance that made them laugh.

My grandmothers were "Mabel" and "Bertha," and my poor mother got landed with "Gertrude" after an aunt, but luckily only as a middle name.

But then names which once seemed "hick" may come back into fashion; right now a lot of American boys are being called "Jake."

In Africa the missionaries tended to work off some of the more obscure saints upon their converts, "Polycarp Dlamini" and the like. "John Dlamini" etc. looked perfectly normal to me, but when I ran into names from a nearby country that had had German missionaries, the "Gottfried Mbolaponga" type names made me see the incongruity.

Sorry to go on like this but I've always had a fascination for names. My personal preference (being from the US South) is for the old, familiar and family-linked - my own "M" represents such a name.

M.Stolzenbach  •  Link


Pepys seems to have a lot of gloves. Were they part of daily attire for men more than they are today? As, when I was a girl, a lady went out on all formal occasions with gloves?

There's nothing about gloves yet on the "Fashion" page.

Glen Nichol  •  Link

I am fairly new to this site and someone may already have explained the very frequent phrase "drank my morning draft". But would be interested in knowing more about this practice.

Mary  •  Link

that morning draft

See background pages for food and drink/beer

Paul Brewster  •  Link

drank my morning draft

Here are some of our references:……

The Cadbury website references SP for a morning draft of chocolate:…

Shakespeare has Bardolph say "Sir John, there's one Master Brook below would fain speak with you, and be acquainted with you; and hath sent your worship a morning's draught of sack.…

It didn't seem to be a purely masculine enterprise:
From The Cruell Shrow; Or the Patient Mans Woe. (1673) To the Tune of Cuckolds all arowe.
My wife she will be snorting,
and in her bed shy'le lurke
Vntil the Chimes doe goe at Eight,
then she'le beginne to wake ;
Her morning's draught, well spiced straight,
to cleare her eyes, she'le take.

Fred Bacon  •  Link

Name Calling

Gertrude and Mabel are fairly commonplace names. When I was growing up in Arkansas, the women in my family had some of the strangest names I've ever heard--Iula, Eulala, Viva...and many more that I can't recall. By contrast, the men all had rather pedestrian names--Edmund, Thomas etc..

So let it be a warning to you guys, when it comes to name calling, women are much better at it than men.

David A. Smith  •  Link

"my mind all this while full of thoughts for my place of Clerk of the Acts"
We love Sam because in his diary he is so human, so ingenuous. He is writing by himself, for himself, ignorant of his future (as we are of our own but not of his!), blissfully unaware that anyone will ever read his jottings. And so he is unguarded, and in these moments we can completely imagine ourselves in his place, lying abed while visions of sugar plums dance in our heads. This makes him real for us, and makes the age transparent rather than opaque to us.

Linda Camidge  •  Link

Martin - a rather belated post this (is anyone else reading through at the "exact 400 years ago" point? Surely I'm not the only one seized with a compulsive need to do so...)

I read somewhere (yes, I know, I know...) that domestic staff were often given the name of their predecessor - so a new lady's maid arrives and she's called "Mary" by the household, as will her successor be, regardless of "real" name. Of course, a lot of symbolic appropriation and de-humanising going on here.

cum salis grano  •  Link

what is a name, it is a rose, the people in charge hate change, thus many are called by the position they serve in life,

Second Reading

Terry Foreman  •  Link

"Drank my morning draft at Harper’s, and bought a pair of gloves there."

"As with a handshake, in the 17th century gloves meant faith in the transaction or confidence in the person, so transactions of land or property could be made by handing over the symbol of a glove. The tradition of “throwing down the gauntlet”, has survived in language at least, where a knight might challenge another to a duel by casting a glove at his feet – the glove being a symbol of hand to hand combat.

" In the 16th and 17th centuries so much etiquette developed around them that men’s gloves in particular grew wider and more decorative as they were so often carried rather than worn. It was taboo to offer to shake a hand wearing gloves, or to accept a gift in a glove. Nor was it acceptable to remove them with the teeth. Approaching an altar in Church, men had to remove their gloves, and the right glove had to be removed when coming into the presence of a social superior as a mark of respect. The keeping on of your gloves indicated that you retained power by declining physical contact, whereas the removal meant you deferred to a higher position. Gloves were also to be put off when playing cards (to deter cheating, I suppose) or when eating.

"From the symbolic use of gloves the custom grew up of presenting them to people of distinction on special occasions. The wardrobe accounts for Charles I record the making of more than 1,000 pairs of gloves during a three-year period."

The Symbolism of Gloves in the 17th Century, By Deborah Swift

Sasha Clarkson  •  Link

Simple letters from "our" Lieut Lambert.....

Pepys was loyal to his friends, and he liked and trusted Lambert. We soon know when he has a low opinion of someone. I think they were laughing with him rather than at him, a "simple" pleasure perhaps. The language of Pepys' day is closely related to ours, but not the same: one must be careful not to interpret it anachronistically. :)

MarkS  •  Link

I'm pretty sure that 'simple' here is used disparagingly, and means 'silly', 'inept', 'childish', 'foolish'. This would be the normal meaning of the word in this context at the time.

Think of 'simpleton' - a person who is simple. That is, backward, 'intellectually challenged'.

From the Book of Proverbs (King James Version): "The simple believeth every word, but the prudent man looketh well to his going."

Dick Wilson  •  Link

Hereabouts, there is a tendency to preserve maternal surnames, by using them as first names in the succeeding generations, hence, boys named Robinson, Owsley, Booker, etc. As a girl's name, "Chenoweth" has an almost melodic sound, but you have to pity the schoolboy who is saddled with the first name "Dinwiddie".

Third Reading

San Diego Sarah  •  Link

"My mind all this while full of thoughts for my place of Clerk of the Acts."

I bet it was. Quite intimidating, I suspect.

Nick Hedley  •  Link

Given Names
Virtues, or perceived virtues, were also a rich source of given names. Jemimah Montagu (nee Crewe, Lady Sandwich) had aunts named Patience (1608 - 1642), Temperance (1610-1634), Silence (1611-?) and Prudence ( 1615-?), although her eldest aunt was a more conventional Anne. These were her father's sisters. Her uncles were also more conventionally named, Thomas, Nathaniel and Salathiel and her father was John, while her mother was also Jemimah. One cannot help but be sorry for Silence and hope that she did not live up to her name.

Stephane Chenard  •  Link

Here's a job for Sam, between lookin' for Mylord and delivering letters: Capt. Roger Cuttance - of the Naseby, remember him? - send him a letter today (June 24, No. 144 in the State Papers) to advise that "the Vice-Admiral has brought Lord [Montague] a canoe from Greenland". Oh joy. It's "for one man to sit in a round hole to row in, and the rest close like a ship's deck" - well, a kayak, you get the picture.

Why a kayak? Where from? Is this a gift from the king of Denmark? Does it come with one of these sealskin-clad Arctick Indians? And where is it now? Will we ever know? Anyway, "he wants his Lordship to see it before he sends it away [to whom?], but does not like to lose the opportunity of sending it by the bark that is ready". In other words, could Sam perhaps come fetch the kayak, "18 or 19 feet long", show it to Montague and rush it back to wherever "the bark" is? Because perhaps Montague has other fish to fry than get into a coach to go look at it.

Sam for all his taste for curios kept the canoe out of the Diary, but he did jump into it as it will reappear on July 4 in a letter (State Papers again) from VAdm Lawson, confirming to Sam that he "will command, as ordered, his Excellency's barge, and the canoe to be carried to Lynn, in Norfolk". And there the canoe disappears. So at least it didn't have to be manoeuvered with a team of horses through the cramped streets of London, all the way to Westminster. Pity; what a scene, what a team they would have made, Sam and the harpoon-wielding Eskimo, chasing off little boys as they tried to get inside the canoe.

San Diego Sarah  •  Link

Great find, Stephane.

I can tell you why they had the canoe taken to King's Lynn -- same reason Charles II's landing barge is going there:

"The River Great Ouse (/uːz/) is a river in England, the longest of several British rivers called "Ouse". From Syresham in Northamptonshire, the Great Ouse flows through Buckinghamshire, Bedfordshire, Cambridgeshire and Norfolk to drain into the Wash and the North Sea near Kings Lynn." -- Google

The sailors/servants can then row/tow/sail it up the Ouse, with only a short land haul to Hinchingbrooke, where there is a sizeable lake, so it can be used by the children.

The roads were narrow and awful -- sea and river transportation was the preferred/cheapest/safest -- and possibly fastest -- mode.

Stephane Chenard  •  Link

We have now seen a dispatch from our well-informed friend, Venetian ambassador Giavarina (his letters at…) dated October 22 (new style), which we thinks explains the kayak mystery.

"When I was at Court the other evening in the chamber of the princess, the king called me to him and spoke of the great pleasure he takes in the river here and discoursed about a delightful canal which he is now having dug in St. James's park near the palace, and his desire to have boats of every sort there", Giavarina writes. "He had written to Holland and other places for foreign ones and was very curious to see the gondolas of Venice as well which, by general consent, he understood were so noble and dainty. He asked me to write to request the republic to send him two by some English ship, saying it would be a most distinguished favour. I promised to report his wish to the Senate and felt sure your Excellencies would oblige him."

All we can say is, 'tis good to be the king, and this one isn't losing time as he moves from exile, to parades, to lopping off a few heads, to frolicking in vanity projects. "He sent a gentleman of the chamber to me again to-day to beg me not to forget to write, showing his eagerness to have them, and I must needs obey his Majesty's order." Moreover, "As the gondolas could not be used here without the boatmen of Venice [don't ask why], the king asked me to request the Senate to send three or four, promising to pay and treat them well."

Here begins, perhaps, some gondoliers' great life-changing adventure. Time will tell if the canoe museum will indeed materialise, and how the Venetian Senate reacts to this kingly request for gifts.

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