Hives, also known as urticaria. More likely than lice. An old remedy was to place stinging nettles on the inflamed areas. Today a doctor would give a shot of anti-histimine. Calamine lotion would have helped, too. How awful to live in the days before modern medicine. Did Sam say what he'd been eating? Shellfish is often the culprit. Other foods, too.
"and so home and had a good dinner with my wife, with which I was pleased to see it neatly done, and this troubled me to think of parting with Jane, that is come to be a very good cook."
". . .which vexes me cruelly, but it cannot be helped". It sounds to me as if Sam is saying he feels sorry for the incident and E's loss but he has no intention of buying another one. "There, there, dry your tears, dear, it can't be helped. I'm off to the office."
Sam doesn't seem to have the least twinge of conscience about spending a whole day at the office, going out in the evening, enjoying the ladies and generally having a good time while his wife is sick in bed, no matter what the cause of her pain was.. Monthies or toothache or something else, he apparently doesn't give her a second thought if there's his "work" to do, fun to be had and ladies to admire. Out of sight, out of mind. He doesn't mention in the diary about being worried about his wife all day and evening, who he has left in great distress. but he does write about Mrs, Ackworth being "a pretty and modest woman" who spins so well. What a guy!
E. might have had nothing else to do but have children, as Gerald Berg says, but that was common at the time and for centuries after. Even having something else to do would probably not have affected the longing for a baby . Even today, when women are "liberated" (in a way never dreamed of by E. or her co-horts) and have plenty to do, many still pine for a baby , often going to great lengths to have one. In E's day there was nothing to be done except to drink an occasional witch's brew from a midwife. I feel sorry for her and wish she had written a diary so we could know her other than solely through Sam. I wonder if there were any diaries from women at the time that have survived. Of course, they would be less likely to have been saved, being considered women's silly scribblings, best disposed of.
After reading a few of these posts, it occurs to me why Elisabeth is as lonely as she is. She is pining for a baby. Nothing is going to fill that loneliness, though a companion might offer a pretense of help. It won't bring her peace or contentment and Sam will probably never understand it. Even the letters he destroyed were probably helping her to deal wih the lonliness.
Not a word is ever said about vegetables or fruit. Not even potatoes, just meat. Sam doesn't even mention bread. I guess Yorkshire pudding hadn't made its way to London yet. It's no wonder people had severe digestive complaints in those days. -------- He refers to his "poor" wife. He is probably saying she is unhappy with the work she has to do and Sam's uncaring and controlling attitude. So he refers to her as a "poor" girl, not that Sam would do much to make her life easier. She has her duty to serve him, and her burden to bear, after all, and if she complains, well, too bad--she'll remain a "poor" wife and she should be happy to have as much as he deigns to give her. --------- What changed domestic help as much as anything were modern conveniences--flush toilets, dishwashers, washing machines, vacuum cleaners. It was cheaper, easier and more efficient to buy machinery to do the work than to hire people, and people who would work as servants became less and less available after WWI. Growing up in the 50s, in the US, we never had one servant in our house--except for my grandmother, but we had a few of the other, somewhat primitive by today's standards, labor-saving appliances, such as a wringer washer. Clothes were hung out on clotheslines to dry, even in freezing weather. What luxury!
Thanks to those who responded. I was writing from my own experience during the later part of the 20th Century in the United States. My own young life and child-raising years were, let's say, unfortunate in many ways, but neither I nor my children had to be sent out to fend for ourselves. I come from a long line of coal miners where many kids younger than 12 worked full time at coal breakers, including my grandfather and great grandfather. I am able to see young kids as vulnerable children because I never had to send mine to work, so I know I can be seen to be wearing blinders of a sort. But I am aware of other societies, other times and grinding poverty. Poor Wayneman's treatment brought this home to me. I was touched by Christopher Williams' experience. Fortunately life is better today for most children at least in Western societies. My point was that no child should have had such a life as Wayneman had, in the 1600s--or now. I wish all children could to be allowed to be children when they are children, as mine were.
I am amazed at how differently people viewed 12-year-olds in Pepys' time compared to today. Imagine expecting a 12-year-old to work what amounted then to a full-time job and to be beaten if he failed! 12-year-olds, by today's standards, are nowhere near adulthood or any kind of maturity. I don't suppose they were actually any different then--expectations were just harsher. I can't imagine my own three boys (now adults) being expected to support themselves and being treated as Wayneman was in Pepys' time when they were a mere 12 years old! They were children, doing what children do--playing instead of working, often forgetting what they were supposed to do, still needing warm hugs and parental understanding. I see Wayneman as no different from my own 12-year-olds, despite more than 400 years between them. Boys will be boys! It's society's attitudes and expectations that have changed (for which we should be eternally grateful) not the boys (or the girls), themselves.
An excellent site for an explanation of plum porridge, how it was made and its origins and use, with a good dash of wit in the telling can be found here:
I think adoption as we know it in modern times is very different than it was in Pepys' time. Of course it happened sometimes, but it was almost always within families. I doubt it was common for a child who was not a family member to be taken in as a child of an adoptive family with all the privileges of a natural born child. Even Jane Austen's brother was a member of the family, not a child of the streets. In addition, Jane Austen and her brother lived 100 years after Pepys. A lot can happen in 100 years, and even in her day stranger adoption as we know it today was rare.
Anyone know exactly what "housekeeping" entailed for Pepys? Even £573 in today's money doesn't seem beyond what might be expected if it covers all food, drink, supplies, fuel for heating and cooking for Pepys, his wife and all their servants and guests, including servants' pay. Would it also cover rent or whatever he paid for his housing?
Jeannine wrote: Question about Sam's "usual" Christmas celebration with Elizabeth--for the past 2 years I couldn't find any mention of his giving a gift to Elizabeth - any idea what would be the norm for them (or other couples) in this area???
There was a time when speaking of gifts given or received was considered unseemly. It would too often be seen as bragging. Though Sam would only have been writing in his diary, habits die hard.
As for adopting children, the upper and middle classes might "take in" (not adopt) a relative's child, they would never be seen taking a common gutter snipe into their home--or even so much as touching one. They might give some charity money to an orphanage or foundling home, but they'd draw the line at actually taking in street children. They'd sooner take in a mangey dog.
"Up and to the office, Mr. Coventry and I alone sat till two o’clock, and then he inviting himself to my house to dinner, "
That doesn't sound as if there could have been much time to prepare the meal. Of course it had to be Liz's fault! It couldn't have been Sam's! The man of the house snaps his fingers and a fully cooked meal is supposed to magically appear on the table. Glad to see times have changed a little, anyway.
Let this be a lesson to everyone to keep his or her own diary, just in case a spouse or S/O decides to keep one and it gets published 500 years down the road. Too bad no one gave Elizabeth this advice. Then, at least, we'd know something about what SHE was thinking day by day. It would be endlessly fascinating. As it is, we never hear Elizabeth's voice or have any idea of her thoughts or reactions to anything except through Sam. More's the pity. How delicious it would be able to read day by day account by Elizabeth, Sam's parents, and some of Sam's contacts, including the servants.
Maybe we should all assume that SOMEONE close to us is keeping a diary and we have only one chance to get our two-cent's worth in--and defend ourselves.
Comments
Second Reading
About Sunday 15 February 1662/63
Louise Hudson • Link
In school in the states we were always told Newfoundland was pronounced NEWfundlind. Then I met a girl from there and she pronounced it NewFOUNDland.
My husband, who's a Brit, always pronounces St. john as Sint JOHN. Americans say SAINT John.
But who knows how they pronounced anything in Pepys' time. It wasn't that long after Shakespeare.
About Sunday 8 February 1662/63
Louise Hudson • Link
Hives, also known as urticaria. More likely than lice. An old remedy was to place stinging nettles on the inflamed areas. Today a doctor would give a shot of anti-histimine. Calamine lotion would have helped, too. How awful to live in the days before modern medicine. Did Sam say what he'd been eating? Shellfish is often the culprit. Other foods, too.
About Saturday 7 February 1662/63
Louise Hudson • Link
There is a comprehensive history called Pepys's Navy: Ships, Men and Warfare 1649-89
by J. D. Davies
It has received excellent reviews.
It's available through Amazon.
About Sunday 1 February 1662/63
Louise Hudson • Link
"and so home and had a good dinner with my wife, with which I was pleased to see it neatly done, and this troubled me to think of parting with Jane, that is come to be a very good cook."
Serves you right, Sam.
About Wednesday 28 January 1662/63
Louise Hudson • Link
". . .which vexes me cruelly, but it cannot be helped". It sounds to me as if Sam is saying he feels sorry for the incident and E's loss but he has no intention of buying another one. "There, there, dry your tears, dear, it can't be helped. I'm off to the office."
About Wednesday 21 January 1662/63
Louise Hudson • Link
Sam doesn't seem to have the least twinge of conscience about spending a whole day at the office, going out in the evening, enjoying the ladies and generally having a good time while his wife is sick in bed, no matter what the cause of her pain was.. Monthies or toothache or something else, he apparently doesn't give her a second thought if there's his "work" to do, fun to be had and ladies to admire. Out of sight, out of mind. He doesn't mention in the diary about being worried about his wife all day and evening, who he has left in great distress. but he does write about Mrs, Ackworth being "a pretty and modest woman" who spins so well. What a guy!
About Sunday 18 January 1662/63
Louise Hudson • Link
Sam sounds like St Augustine when he said, "Give me chastity and continence, but not yet."
About Wednesday 14 January 1662/63
Louise Hudson • Link
E. might have had nothing else to do but have children, as Gerald Berg says, but that was common at the time and for centuries after. Even having something else to do would probably not have affected the longing for a baby . Even today, when women are "liberated" (in a way never dreamed of by E. or her co-horts) and have plenty to do, many still pine for a baby , often going to great lengths to have one. In E's day there was nothing to be done except to drink an occasional witch's brew from a midwife. I feel sorry for her and wish she had written a diary so we could know her other than solely through Sam. I wonder if there were any diaries from women at the time that have survived. Of course, they would be less likely to have been saved, being considered women's silly scribblings, best disposed of.
About Wednesday 14 January 1662/63
Louise Hudson • Link
After reading a few of these posts, it occurs to me why Elisabeth is as lonely as she is. She is pining for a baby. Nothing is going to fill that loneliness, though a companion might offer a pretense of help. It won't bring her peace or contentment and Sam will probably never understand it. Even the letters he destroyed were probably helping her to deal wih the lonliness.
About Tuesday 13 January 1662/63
Louise Hudson • Link
Not a word is ever said about vegetables or fruit. Not even potatoes, just meat. Sam doesn't even mention bread. I guess Yorkshire pudding hadn't made its way to London yet. It's no wonder people had severe digestive complaints in those days.
--------
He refers to his "poor" wife. He is probably saying she is unhappy with the work she has to do and Sam's uncaring and controlling attitude. So he refers to her as a "poor" girl, not that Sam would do much to make her life easier. She has her duty to serve him, and her burden to bear, after all, and if she complains, well, too bad--she'll remain a "poor" wife and she should be happy to have as much as he deigns to give her.
---------
What changed domestic help as much as anything were modern conveniences--flush toilets, dishwashers, washing machines, vacuum cleaners. It was cheaper, easier and more efficient to buy machinery to do the work than to hire people, and people who would work as servants became less and less available after WWI. Growing up in the 50s, in the US, we never had one servant in our house--except for my grandmother, but we had a few of the other, somewhat primitive by today's standards, labor-saving appliances, such as a wringer washer. Clothes were hung out on clotheslines to dry, even in freezing weather. What luxury!
About Saturday 3 January 1662/63
Louise Hudson • Link
"and the getting of the bills well over for my building of my house here, which however are as small and less than any of the others."
I take that to mean less than any of the other bills he has to pay.
About Saturday 27 December 1662
Louise Hudson • Link
Thanks to those who responded. I was writing from my own experience during the later part of the 20th Century in the United States. My own young life and child-raising years were, let's say, unfortunate in many ways, but neither I nor my children had to be sent out to fend for ourselves. I come from a long line of coal miners where many kids younger than 12 worked full time at coal breakers, including my grandfather and great grandfather. I am able to see young kids as vulnerable children because I never had to send mine to work, so I know I can be seen to be wearing blinders of a sort. But I am aware of other societies, other times and grinding poverty. Poor Wayneman's treatment brought this home to me. I was touched by Christopher Williams' experience. Fortunately life is better today for most children at least in Western societies. My point was that no child should have had such a life as Wayneman had, in the 1600s--or now. I wish all children could to be allowed to be children when they are children, as mine were.
About Saturday 27 December 1662
Louise Hudson • Link
I am amazed at how differently people viewed 12-year-olds in Pepys' time compared to today. Imagine expecting a 12-year-old to work what amounted then to a full-time job and to be beaten if he failed! 12-year-olds, by today's standards, are nowhere near adulthood or any kind of maturity. I don't suppose they were actually any different then--expectations were just harsher. I can't imagine my own three boys (now adults) being expected to support themselves and being treated as Wayneman was in Pepys' time when they were a mere 12 years old! They were children, doing what children do--playing instead of working, often forgetting what they were supposed to do, still needing warm hugs and parental understanding. I see Wayneman as no different from my own 12-year-olds, despite more than 400 years between them. Boys will be boys! It's society's attitudes and expectations that have changed (for which we should be eternally grateful) not the boys (or the girls), themselves.
About Thursday 25 December 1662
Louise Hudson • Link
An excellent site for an explanation of plum porridge, how it was made and its origins and use, with a good dash of wit in the telling can be found here:
http://www.theguardian.com/lifean…
About Saturday 20 December 1662
Louise Hudson • Link
I think adoption as we know it in modern times is very different than it was in Pepys' time. Of course it happened sometimes, but it was almost always within families. I doubt it was common for a child who was not a family member to be taken in as a child of an adoptive family with all the privileges of a natural born child. Even Jane Austen's brother was a member of the family, not a child of the streets. In addition, Jane Austen and her brother lived 100 years after Pepys. A lot can happen in 100 years, and even in her day stranger adoption as we know it today was rare.
About Tuesday 23 December 1662
Louise Hudson • Link
Anyone know exactly what "housekeeping" entailed for Pepys? Even £573 in today's money doesn't seem beyond what might be expected if it covers all food, drink, supplies, fuel for heating and cooking for Pepys, his wife and all their servants and guests, including servants' pay. Would it also cover rent or whatever he paid for his housing?
About Saturday 20 December 1662
Louise Hudson • Link
Jeannine wrote: Question about Sam's "usual" Christmas celebration with Elizabeth--for the past 2 years I couldn't find any mention of his giving a gift to Elizabeth - any idea what would be the norm for them (or other couples) in this area???
There was a time when speaking of gifts given or received was considered unseemly. It would too often be seen as bragging. Though Sam would only have been writing in his diary, habits die hard.
As for adopting children, the upper and middle classes might "take in" (not adopt) a relative's child, they would never be seen taking a common gutter snipe into their home--or even so much as touching one. They might give some charity money to an orphanage or foundling home, but they'd draw the line at actually taking in street children. They'd sooner take in a mangey dog.
About Thursday 11 December 1662
Louise Hudson • Link
Pepys wrote:
"Up and to the office, Mr. Coventry and I alone sat till two o’clock, and then he inviting himself to my house to dinner, "
That doesn't sound as if there could have been much time to prepare the meal. Of course it had to be Liz's fault! It couldn't have been Sam's! The man of the house snaps his fingers and a fully cooked meal is supposed to magically appear on the table. Glad to see times have changed a little, anyway.
About Monday 8 December 1662
Louise Hudson • Link
Justice Jiggins! A truly Dickensian name, though Dickens would not be born for another 150 years.
About Thursday 4 December 1662
Louise Hudson • Link
Let this be a lesson to everyone to keep his or her own diary, just in case a spouse or S/O decides to keep one and it gets published 500 years down the road. Too bad no one gave Elizabeth this advice. Then, at least, we'd know something about what SHE was thinking day by day. It would be endlessly fascinating. As it is, we never hear Elizabeth's voice or have any idea of her thoughts or reactions to anything except through Sam. More's the pity. How delicious it would be able to read day by day account by Elizabeth, Sam's parents, and some of Sam's contacts, including the servants.
Maybe we should all assume that SOMEONE close to us is keeping a diary and we have only one chance to get our two-cent's worth in--and defend ourselves.