This opening sentence leaves me with the mental image of Mr. Moore arriving at the Pepys’ residence early in the morning, knocking at the door, receiving no answer, and then feeling free to let himself in and halloo up the stairs to see if anyone was at home. One wonders where the servants were and why Mr. Moore had to announce himself in this fashion. Perhaps this explains why Elizabeth was in Sam’s “dressing-chamber”; she might have been helping him get dressed in the absence of the usual servants. Since Mr. Moore was Lord Sandwich’s “man of business” and Sam was enjoying the patronage of Lord Sandwich, Mr. Moore may have felt free to make himself at home at the Pepys’ as Sam was hardly in a position to object.
In any case, unless I’m being overly analytical there seems to be something significant in the way Elizabeth quickly gets dressed as soon as she hears Mr. Moore’s voice and then runs downstairs “and challenged him for her valentine” before he and Sam could leave the house. This must be the same Mr. Moore whom Sam found at his home—presumably with Elizabeth—back on February 10th. Did Elizabeth find Mr. Moore attractive? Did they make plans on the 10th for him to be her valentine on the 14th? Or did Sam orchestrate this whole scene as a way of improving his standing with his patron by arranging for his comely young wife to ingratiate herself with Lord Sandwich’s representative by asking him to be her valentine?
"... and indeed the City is very open-handed to the soldiers, that they are most of them drunk all day, and have money given them."
I'm sure the tavern keepers and those pursuing other professions in town were just as eager for the soldiers to be given their back-pay as the troops themselves. No sooner do the men have their money than it's gone again, spent on drink and other pursuits.
Speaking of January 6th and related events, I thought of Samuel Pepys while watching Cassidy Hutchinson give her testimony to the January 6th Committee. I don't know whether or not she kept a diary, but she was just a little younger than Pepys and, like him, was aware than she was living through historic events. These events and the words and actions of the people involved in them obviously registered in her mind and she was later able to recall them in some detail, unlike so many of her White House colleagues who would have us believe their memories are like sieves.
Thanks, San Diego Sarah, for your thoughtful response to my comment from February 11th. I agree with your opinion of the pernicious influence of TV and other modern technology. I don't have a bank card as I prefer to do all my banking face-to-face. For the same reason, I avoid the self check-out lanes at the grocery store. But at the same time, without the internet we wouldn't be able to share our interest in the life and times of Samuel Pepys with other people around the world. I guess it all confirms the truth of the old saying that "There's no free lunch" and that everything comes with a trade-off.
“Thence I went home … and there I found Mr. Moore … At home I found Mr. Hunt …”
One of the things that strikes me in reading the Diary is how people—Londoners, anyway—in Pepys’ time seem to have had a habit of just dropping in to visit their friends, neighbours, and business associates. Sam doesn’t seem at all surprised or annoyed that Mr. Moore and Mr. Hunt feel free to show up at his door apparently unannounced. There are numerous other incidents throughout the Diary where Sam describes people arriving at his house at almost any hour of the day expecting to visit, be entertained, enjoy a musical interlude, share a meal, and even stay overnight.
Occasionally, one reads of Sam receiving a note or a messenger telling him of someone wanting to see him at home, but for the most part it appears that people—Sam included—simply showed up at their friends’ homes taking their chances on whether or not the person they wanted to see would be present or willing to receive them. Perhaps it’s just me, but I would find that irksome.
Of course, the 17th century lacked telephones and other modern communications, and I don’t claim to be an authority on the evolution of social practices, but it does seem as if in Sam’s time the present concept of the private home hadn't fully developed, and the family home was still, in some ways, a community arena.
"... would we still be reading and appreciating it as much as we do?" Well, I for one would certainly like to have had more Pepys to read and enjoy. I would have liked to have had his inside view of the Exclusion Crisis and the Popish Plot of the early 1670s, more observations of King Charles and the Duke of York as they grappled with the stratagems of their political enemies. And especially, more court and country gossip, more accounts of going to the theatre and around and about town to see and be seen, and more incidental details of daily life in the Restoration Period.
I was lucky enough to pick up a two-volume set of the Wheatley edition of the Diary in good condition at a charity book sale some years ago, and finally started reading it last summer. I'm now--sadly--down to the last 150-odd pages or so and I grieve that Elizabeth has only about a year left to live. I know that when I come to the last entry I'll feel the same pang as I did as a young boy reading of Sherlock Holmes' final encounter with Professor Moriarty at the Reichenbach Falls. Holmes eventually returned to deduce another day, but alas, Pepys' Diary will not.
Forgot to mention that Sam sometimes refers to dining on "powdered beef" in taverns, the powder being salt used as a preservative in lieu of refrigeration. During one spell of hot, humid weather Sam refers to it being too hot to serve meat as it spoils before it can be cooked.
"... in the absence of a freezer?" Yes, refrigeration in the 17th century was a definite problem, mainly because there wasn't any. Though I may be wrong on that point as I seem to recall Sam referring to sipping iced drinks during one of his promenades in the city with the ice being cut in blocks from the frozen Thames in winter and stored in underground cellars for future use during the warmer months.
In any case, there was one occasion when some country friend sent Sam a haunch of venison to enjoy. Unfortunately, the meat was olfactorily past its best before date so Sam regifted it to someone else. I recall at least two occasions in the Diary where Sam mentions sitting down to eat and being served a "stinking" venison pasty.
As for despatching the turkeys, I think the only neck I would be grabbing in Jane's situation would be the neck of Sam's lute to use as a club to bash the birds into submission. The wild turkeys that show up in my backyard from time to time in flocks of a dozen or so are sizable birds and have formidable looking beaks and clawed feet. At a distance in the early morning ground mist they look like so many carnivorous theropods from the late Cretaceous. I wouldn't want to get much closer than a lute's length to any of them.
There was a similar situation of a civilian government being threatened by its own military at the end of the American Revolution. In March of 1783 the American colonists had won their independence and were only awaiting the outcome of formal peace talks with the British Crown. Meanwhile, the Continental Army’s encampment at Newburgh, New York, was full of angry and frustrated officers and men who were still awaiting months of back pay as well as confirmation of promised pensions. Congress became alarmed that the troops would mutiny and use force of arms to enforce their demands. But the crisis of the Newburgh Conspiracy was defused when George Washington—declining to play the role of General Monck—gave a conciliatory speech to his officers reminding them of their duty and pledging to redress their grievances.
This was one of the episodes that confirmed Congress in its dread of standing armies, such as the New Model Army, and led to the decision to entrust the new Republic’s defence to “a well regulated Militia” instead.
Perhaps we underestimate how much the leaders of the American Revolution were influenced by the events and aftermath of the English Civil War, to which they were closer in time than we are to the American Civil War. As Charles Carlton writes in his 1992 book, "Going to the Wars: The Experience of the British Civil Wars": “The ghost of Oliver Cromwell sat with the Founding Fathers as they wrote the Constitution in 1787.”
Responding to Francois -- The idea of a group of musketeers and/or pikemen fending off some cavalrymen in an urban setting seems entirely plausible. Pepys writes of "hearing the noise of guns" so presumably the foot soldiers were armed. In the streets of London, I can easily imagine the infantry being able to take up a position where their flanks and rear were covered by buildings or other obstructions. In such a confined location the horsemen would have been deprived of their ability to manoeuvre freely, placing them at a disadvantage.
Reading these early entries of the diary, I wish that Pepys had included a few details about how these soldiers were armed and equipped as well as the cut, colour, and general appearance of their uniforms.
Comments
Third Reading
About Tuesday 14 February 1659/60
Ensign Tom • Link
“Called out in the morning by Mr. Moore … “
This opening sentence leaves me with the mental image of Mr. Moore arriving at the Pepys’ residence early in the morning, knocking at the door, receiving no answer, and then feeling free to let himself in and halloo up the stairs to see if anyone was at home. One wonders where the servants were and why Mr. Moore had to announce himself in this fashion. Perhaps this explains why Elizabeth was in Sam’s “dressing-chamber”; she might have been helping him get dressed in the absence of the usual servants. Since Mr. Moore was Lord Sandwich’s “man of business” and Sam was enjoying the patronage of Lord Sandwich, Mr. Moore may have felt free to make himself at home at the Pepys’ as Sam was hardly in a position to object.
In any case, unless I’m being overly analytical there seems to be something significant in the way Elizabeth quickly gets dressed as soon as she hears Mr. Moore’s voice and then runs downstairs “and challenged him for her valentine” before he and Sam could leave the house. This must be the same Mr. Moore whom Sam found at his home—presumably with Elizabeth—back on February 10th. Did Elizabeth find Mr. Moore attractive? Did they make plans on the 10th for him to be her valentine on the 14th? Or did Sam orchestrate this whole scene as a way of improving his standing with his patron by arranging for his comely young wife to ingratiate herself with Lord Sandwich’s representative by asking him to be her valentine?
About Monday 13 February 1659/60
Ensign Tom • Link
"... and indeed the City is very open-handed to the soldiers, that they are most of them drunk all day, and have money given them."
I'm sure the tavern keepers and those pursuing other professions in town were just as eager for the soldiers to be given their back-pay as the troops themselves. No sooner do the men have their money than it's gone again, spent on drink and other pursuits.
About Monday 13 February 1659/60
Ensign Tom • Link
Speaking of January 6th and related events, I thought of Samuel Pepys while watching Cassidy Hutchinson give her testimony to the January 6th Committee. I don't know whether or not she kept a diary, but she was just a little younger than Pepys and, like him, was aware than she was living through historic events. These events and the words and actions of the people involved in them obviously registered in her mind and she was later able to recall them in some detail, unlike so many of her White House colleagues who would have us believe their memories are like sieves.
About Friday 10 February 1659/60
Ensign Tom • Link
Thanks, San Diego Sarah, for your thoughtful response to my comment from February 11th. I agree with your opinion of the pernicious influence of TV and other modern technology. I don't have a bank card as I prefer to do all my banking face-to-face. For the same reason, I avoid the self check-out lanes at the grocery store. But at the same time, without the internet we wouldn't be able to share our interest in the life and times of Samuel Pepys with other people around the world. I guess it all confirms the truth of the old saying that "There's no free lunch" and that everything comes with a trade-off.
About Friday 10 February 1659/60
Ensign Tom • Link
“Thence I went home … and there I found Mr. Moore … At home I found Mr. Hunt …”
One of the things that strikes me in reading the Diary is how people—Londoners, anyway—in Pepys’ time seem to have had a habit of just dropping in to visit their friends, neighbours, and business associates. Sam doesn’t seem at all surprised or annoyed that Mr. Moore and Mr. Hunt feel free to show up at his door apparently unannounced. There are numerous other incidents throughout the Diary where Sam describes people arriving at his house at almost any hour of the day expecting to visit, be entertained, enjoy a musical interlude, share a meal, and even stay overnight.
Occasionally, one reads of Sam receiving a note or a messenger telling him of someone wanting to see him at home, but for the most part it appears that people—Sam included—simply showed up at their friends’ homes taking their chances on whether or not the person they wanted to see would be present or willing to receive them. Perhaps it’s just me, but I would find that irksome.
Of course, the 17th century lacked telephones and other modern communications, and I don’t claim to be an authority on the evolution of social practices, but it does seem as if in Sam’s time the present concept of the private home hadn't fully developed, and the family home was still, in some ways, a community arena.
About Friday 10 February 1659/60
Ensign Tom • Link
Responding to Sarah C. above -- Check out the annotations for the previous day, February 9th, for more info on Sam's canker sore.
About Sunday 5 February 1659/60
Ensign Tom • Link
"... would we still be reading and appreciating it as much as we do?" Well, I for one would certainly like to have had more Pepys to read and enjoy. I would have liked to have had his inside view of the Exclusion Crisis and the Popish Plot of the early 1670s, more observations of King Charles and the Duke of York as they grappled with the stratagems of their political enemies. And especially, more court and country gossip, more accounts of going to the theatre and around and about town to see and be seen, and more incidental details of daily life in the Restoration Period.
I was lucky enough to pick up a two-volume set of the Wheatley edition of the Diary in good condition at a charity book sale some years ago, and finally started reading it last summer. I'm now--sadly--down to the last 150-odd pages or so and I grieve that Elizabeth has only about a year left to live. I know that when I come to the last entry I'll feel the same pang as I did as a young boy reading of Sherlock Holmes' final encounter with Professor Moriarty at the Reichenbach Falls. Holmes eventually returned to deduce another day, but alas, Pepys' Diary will not.
About Saturday 4 February 1659/60
Ensign Tom • Link
Forgot to mention that Sam sometimes refers to dining on "powdered beef" in taverns, the powder being salt used as a preservative in lieu of refrigeration. During one spell of hot, humid weather Sam refers to it being too hot to serve meat as it spoils before it can be cooked.
About Saturday 4 February 1659/60
Ensign Tom • Link
"... in the absence of a freezer?" Yes, refrigeration in the 17th century was a definite problem, mainly because there wasn't any. Though I may be wrong on that point as I seem to recall Sam referring to sipping iced drinks during one of his promenades in the city with the ice being cut in blocks from the frozen Thames in winter and stored in underground cellars for future use during the warmer months.
In any case, there was one occasion when some country friend sent Sam a haunch of venison to enjoy. Unfortunately, the meat was olfactorily past its best before date so Sam regifted it to someone else. I recall at least two occasions in the Diary where Sam mentions sitting down to eat and being served a "stinking" venison pasty.
As for despatching the turkeys, I think the only neck I would be grabbing in Jane's situation would be the neck of Sam's lute to use as a club to bash the birds into submission. The wild turkeys that show up in my backyard from time to time in flocks of a dozen or so are sizable birds and have formidable looking beaks and clawed feet. At a distance in the early morning ground mist they look like so many carnivorous theropods from the late Cretaceous. I wouldn't want to get much closer than a lute's length to any of them.
About Friday 3 February 1659/60
Ensign Tom • Link
There was a similar situation of a civilian government being threatened by its own military at the end of the American Revolution. In March of 1783 the American colonists had won their independence and were only awaiting the outcome of formal peace talks with the British Crown. Meanwhile, the Continental Army’s encampment at Newburgh, New York, was full of angry and frustrated officers and men who were still awaiting months of back pay as well as confirmation of promised pensions. Congress became alarmed that the troops would mutiny and use force of arms to enforce their demands. But the crisis of the Newburgh Conspiracy was defused when George Washington—declining to play the role of General Monck—gave a conciliatory speech to his officers reminding them of their duty and pledging to redress their grievances.
This was one of the episodes that confirmed Congress in its dread of standing armies, such as the New Model Army, and led to the decision to entrust the new Republic’s defence to “a well regulated Militia” instead.
Perhaps we underestimate how much the leaders of the American Revolution were influenced by the events and aftermath of the English Civil War, to which they were closer in time than we are to the American Civil War. As Charles Carlton writes in his 1992 book, "Going to the Wars: The Experience of the British Civil Wars": “The ghost of Oliver Cromwell sat with the Founding Fathers as they wrote the Constitution in 1787.”
About Thursday 2 February 1659/60
Ensign Tom • Link
Responding to Francois -- The idea of a group of musketeers and/or pikemen fending off some cavalrymen in an urban setting seems entirely plausible. Pepys writes of "hearing the noise of guns" so presumably the foot soldiers were armed. In the streets of London, I can easily imagine the infantry being able to take up a position where their flanks and rear were covered by buildings or other obstructions. In such a confined location the horsemen would have been deprived of their ability to manoeuvre freely, placing them at a disadvantage.
Reading these early entries of the diary, I wish that Pepys had included a few details about how these soldiers were armed and equipped as well as the cut, colour, and general appearance of their uniforms.