Wednesday 7 April 1669
Up, and by coach to my cozen Turner’s, and invited them to dine at the Cocke to-day, with my wife and me; and so to the Lords of the Treasury, where all the morning, and settled matters to their liking about the assignments on the Customes, between the Navy Office and Victualler, and to that end spent most of the morning there with D. Gawden, and thence took him to the Cocke, and there left him and my clerk Gibson together evening their reckonings, while I to the New Exchange to talk with Betty, my little sempstress; and so to Mrs. Turner’s, to call them to dinner, but my wife not come, I back again, and was overtaken by a porter, with a message from my wife that she was ill, and could not come to us: so I back again to Mrs. Turner’s, and find them gone; and so back again to the Cocke, and there find Mr. Turner, Betty, and Talbot Pepys, and they dined with myself Sir D. Gawden and Gibson, and mighty merry, this house being famous for good meat, and particularly pease-porridge and after dinner broke up, and they away; and I to the Council-Chamber, and there heard the great complaint of the City, tried against the gentlemen of the Temple, for the late riot, as they would have it, when my Lord Mayor was there. But, upon hearing the whole business, the City was certainly to blame to charge them in this manner as with a riot: but the King and Council did forbear to determine any thing it, till the other business of the title and privilege be decided which is now under dispute at law between them, whether Temple be within the liberty of the City or no. But I, sorry to see the City so ill advised as to complain in a thing where their proofs were so weak. Thence to my cousin Turner’s, and thence with her and her daughters, and her sister Turner, I carrying Betty in my lap, to Talbot’s chamber at the Temple, where, by agreement, the poor rogue had a pretty dish of anchovies and sweetmeats for them; and hither come Mr. Eden, who was in his mistress’s disfavour ever since the other night that he come in thither fuddled, when we were there. But I did make them friends by my buffoonery, and bringing up a way of spelling their names, and making Theophila spell Lamton, which The. would have to be the name of Mr. Eden’s mistress, and mighty merry we were till late, and then I by coach home, and so to bed, my wife being ill of those, but well enough pleased with my being with them. This day I do hear that Betty Turner is to be left at school at Hackney, which I am mightily pleased with; for then I shall, now and then, see her. She is pretty, and a girl for that, and her relations, I love.
10 Annotations
First Reading
Terry Foreman • Link
"the great complaint of the City, tried against the gentlemen of the Temple, for the late riot, as they would have it, when my Lord Mayor was there...; but the King and Council did forbear to determine any thing it, till the other business of the title and privilege be decided which is now under dispute at law between them, whether Temple be within the liberty of the City or no."
For the root of the still-unresolved jurisdictional dispute Pepys reports see Wednesday 3 March 1668/69 http://www.pepysdiary.com/diary/1…
ONeville • Link
Pease pottage, not porridge? Although it will have the consistency of porridge. Lot of to-ing and fro-ing by Sam today, but a good time was had by all (except Bess). She seems to trust him with the Turners, though.
AnnieC • Link
"to Talbot’s chamber at the Temple, where, by agreement, the poor rogue had a pretty dish of anchovies and sweetmeats for them"
I'd be glad to know what "the poor rogue" means in modern English.
E. • Link
It's been interesting to see post-Cromwell London's restaurant culture evolving. On one hand, of course young Samuel Pepys did not have money for dining out, but on the other, the variety of meals, beverages, snacks, banquets, and meetings he eats not at home or sends out for is not out of line with a modern urbanite's rate of dining-out.
Chris Squire • Link
re “the poor rogue” :
‘rogue, n. and adj. Etym: Origin unknown.
. . 2. a. A dishonest, unprincipled person; a rascal, a scoundrel.
. . 1701 C. Cibber Love makes Man ii. 12 What, will none of my Rogues come near me now? O! Here they are. [Enter several Servants.]
. . 3. A mischievous person, esp. a child; a person whose behaviour one disapproves of but who is nonetheless likeable or attractive. Freq. as a playful term of reproof or reproach or as a term of endearment.
. . 1672 Duke of Buckingham Rehearsal i. 6 It's a pretty little rogue; she is my Mistress. I knew her face would set off Armor extreamly . . ‘ [OED]
AnnieC • Link
Thank you, Chris.
Second Reading
Terry Foreman • Link
"but the King and Council did forbear to determine any thing it, till the other business of the title and privilege be decided which is now under dispute at law between them, whether Temple be within the liberty of the City or no. "
The City in fact never took the dispute to court, and to this day the issue has never been tested in the courts. (Per L&M note)
Terry Foreman • Link
"making Theophila spell Lamton, which The. would have to be the name of Mr. Eden’s mistress"
Margaret lambton later married Robert Eden (d. 1720), the first baronet. Both came from distinguished co. Durham families. (L&M)
Terry Foreman • Link
"She is pretty, and a girl for that, and her relations, I love."
L&M: Sc. 'a girl whom I love both because she is pretty and because she is a relative."
Stephane Chenard • Link
Sam's appearance with Dennis Gauden before the Treasury Commissioners is duly listed among their minutes for today. The session, the last before a two-week recess, must have been quite intense, as Sam's turn is item No. 54 out of 57, not bad for a morning's business, especially as only two Treasurers are recorded to have been there: "When the Navy privy seal is passed the Treasurers of the Navy are to have the 30,000L. on the Wine Act; also a warrant for 6,000L. out of the ready money of the Customs in the Exchequer" [https://www.british-history.ac.uk…].
Makes sense. Surely that didn't take "most of the morning", which must have been spent waiting to be called. Sam then may have attended this earlier discussion: "A letter to be written to all the nobility that are in arrear with their Poll money" - well, almost by definition that should be all the nobility, period - "and their warrants are to be stopped till they have paid". The warrants include the "creation money" their lordships receive from the crown just for being who they are (or were made, rather), and sundry other subsidies such as "stable money". A few deadbeats are specifically named, including no less than "the Lord Chamberlain" and, gasp but of course, "the Earl of Sandwich", whose "last warrant" (unspecified) hangs in the balance. Either Sam wasn't in the room at that time, or his Sandwich account is so written off that the above that he just shrugged and thought comfy thoughts of the coming pea porridge instead. All the better, if Sam was in this rare mood for "buffoonery" (Sam Pepys the buffoon not being so often in evidence).
Surely none of their lordships saw fit to attend so base and absurd a phant'sy as their actually paying taxes, like vulgar merchants. Every day new complications are thought up! This makes what should be the simple exercise of living on credit far beyond your means and without working, sooo outlandishly and needlessly complex! Why can't we just be given money by his Majestie, without having to give it back the next day to his clerkes, and in exchange, I dunno, ride to the crusades or somethin'?