Re San Diego Sarah's "I'd love to hear Pepys' pithy comments on the old blind Parliamentarian [Milton] who somehow escaped being a Regicide," I agree that it's a shame that they didn't meet, but the fact that Milton was already in his 40s and blind by the time young Sam launched his diary in 1660 meant that Pepys wasn't likely to rub elbows with him while traipsing from tavern to tavern, and Sam also wasn't likely to bump into Milton at church, since Milton didn't believe in organized religion and possibly? used blindness as his reason to skip the compulsory attendance.
Regarding "Where? Does he have a commode in his chamber? . . . Or was he reduced to squatting over a chamber pot in his chamber?" I have wondered about this too, and I've read that church pews even had chamber pots in them, in case somebody needed to take a leak during a long sermon. Slight spoiler (Vincent started it!): Vincent mentions that at one time Sam entered a main room in his house and embarrassed an "eminent lady" who (as Sam wrote) was "doing something on the pot," so chamber pots seem to have been placed conveniently throughout the living spaces. That eminent lady was My Lady herself, Countess Sandwich, who was perennially pregnant and therefore undoubtedly needed access to chamber pots frequently.
Re Puccini: ". . . when he refers to Louisiana as a desert he meant a place with very few inhabitants." I'm happy to hear this and only wish every opera fan in New Orleans, where the first opera house in the United States was built (in the French Quarter, where I live), knew this, since the final scene of "Manon Lescaut" in the "desert" around bog-swampy below-sea-level New Orleans always elicits giggles and loud guffaws, as does the mention in "La Boheme" of "Gentilly," which is the name of a prominent section of New Orleans. (New Orleans is divided into "sections," like Carrollton, Uptown, Tremé, French Quarter.)
I wonder if there were also community "tenting grounds" for drying laundered sheets on frames set up like very large sandwich boards. The sheets would be stretched on the frames and held there by by "tenterhooks."
" . . . that it took a suitable (perhaps wittily chosen) classical author for the model of its style." Perhaps Sam's rusticated brother John was clever enough to choose the form of the banished Ovid's "Epistulae ex Ponto." Re Tonyel's reference to a "pine box," Tonyel must be a Southern US bro.
Re spitting, I recall reading somewhere that Queen Anne Boleyn had a gentlewoman seated beside her at meals whose duty it was to raise a napkin to hide the queen's face "if she list to spit."
TC, Admiral Nelson once used the tactic of staying at anchor for two years to prevent seamen from leaving the ship! Dick Wilson, Bligh was completely exonerated after the second mutiny, which was about rum in Australia. Also, he must have been a gentleman, since he retired as Vice-Admiral of the Blue.
Martin, You are absolutely right, as I see in the Jan 10 entry: "After dinner Will comes to tell me that he had presented my piece of plate to Mr. Coventry, who takes it very kindly, and sends me a very kind letter, and the plate back again; of which my heart is very glad." The antecedent of "he" in "he did not receive them," IS Coventry after all, and "receive" means "accept," after all. (I should have quit when I was ahead.)
Re Charlezzzzz's comment above about Coventry and the flagons, this goes back to yesterday and the matter of Pett having ordered some silver flagons to be sent to Coventry "but he did not receive them." I took this to mean that "receive" meant "accept," i.e., Coventry did not accept them. Perhaps based on my error (sorry!), several others thought the same, and, since the gifts could be interpreted as a bribe, they attributed Coventry's non-acceptance to his virtuous character, But I was wrong. "Receive" did not mean "accept," and it's just another case of something that happens occasionally in Pepys's diary, the knotty question of "what or who" is the antecedent of a pronoun, this time the antecedent of the "he" in "he did not receive them. The answer is not Coventry, it's Pett. Pett did not receive the flagons timely, and therefore he had to wait to send them to Coventry, who, virtue to the contrary notwithstanding, did accept them.
The pictures and other information about diarist Josselin were most welcome. In 2023 the Eastern Orthodox [Catholic] Church officially changed the date of their Christmas (the Feast of the Nativity) to December 25th.
In the American Deep South the unmarried daughter or sister of the head of the household was called the "ole miss" (old maid) to distinguish her from the family's young marriageable misses, and you can be sure that the ole miss sat with the family at table. For some reason that I have never been able to figure out, the University of Mississippi is called Ole Miss. And when they play football it's not "the University of Mississippi versus Texas" or some other team. It's always "Ole Miss versus Texas" or some other team. I don't admire Sam's attitude toward his sister. She's not an ole miss, she's a young miss, and a good brother would include her in order to marry her off to someone in his circle.
With regard to all the comments above regarding infant or child mortality, it is worth noting that James, Duke of York, and Anne Hyde had eight children, and today King Charles II attended the christening of the first one, a boy, Charles, Duke of Cambridge. That child died, and only two of their eight children lived to be adults. Both were girls, and both became queens: Mary and Anne.
Right at the top of today's annotations "Joe" wondered in 2003 what Will's diary would say for today. Will was Pepys's "boy" and was for Pepys what a footman is for the king or queen, someone in the background, always silently on hand to do whatever is needed, and not noticed if nothing is needed. Will was probably with Pepys the whole time. (As for his diary, he probably didn't have one because he undoubtedly couldn't write.)
"Commissioner Pett (who seldom comes there) told me that he had lately presented a piece of plate (being a couple of flaggons) to Mr. Coventry, but he did not receive them . . . ." At first I thought that "he did not receive them" meant that they had somehow gone astray on the way to Coventry, but apparently everybody but me knew that "receive" here means "accept." Coventry did not accept them.
With regard to Sam's singing today, the fact that in Blagrave's pew he sang along competently while sight-reading proves to me that he had perfect pitch. I've thought so before. Also, it was a real treat to read all the Navy knowledge displayed in today's comments. It makes the work of the Navy Board so much more accessible.
I love Latin. I was the geek wandering through the hall in high school griping to anyone who would listen that our high school didn't offer a third year of Latin. Many years later I wound up in graduate school working toward a Ph.D. in German Literature. Realizing that most of the German authors we were studying had had a true classical education, including Latin and Greek, I had a hunch that I should pursue Latin and Greek again in case knowledge of those languages and literatures would give me insight into the workings of the minds of the gymnasium-educated German authors of preceding centuries. (Notice that I avoided saying hyper- or über-educated (-: ) And it worked. Not to brag, but while I was still a graduate student, I scored an article in the prestigious "German Quarterly" that explained the puzzling structure of Kleist's "Penthesilea," and my dissertation was informed by Johann Christian Günther's imitation of Ovid's "Letters from the Black Sea." My point: Latin and Greek still rock, especially in Comparative Literature.
Comments
Third Reading
About Monday 11 February 1660/61
LKvM • Link
Re San Diego Sarah's "I'd love to hear Pepys' pithy comments on the old blind Parliamentarian [Milton] who somehow escaped being a Regicide," I agree that it's a shame that they didn't meet, but the fact that Milton was already in his 40s and blind by the time young Sam launched his diary in 1660 meant that Pepys wasn't likely to rub elbows with him while traipsing from tavern to tavern, and Sam also wasn't likely to bump into Milton at church, since Milton didn't believe in organized religion and possibly? used blindness as his reason to skip the compulsory attendance.
About Sunday 10 February 1660/61
LKvM • Link
Regarding "Where? Does he have a commode in his chamber? . . . Or was he reduced to squatting over a chamber pot in his chamber?"
I have wondered about this too, and I've read that church pews even had chamber pots in them, in case somebody needed to take a leak during a long sermon.
Slight spoiler (Vincent started it!): Vincent mentions that at one time Sam entered a main room in his house and embarrassed an "eminent lady" who (as Sam wrote) was "doing something on the pot," so chamber pots seem to have been placed conveniently throughout the living spaces. That eminent lady was My Lady herself, Countess Sandwich, who was perennially pregnant and therefore undoubtedly needed access to chamber pots frequently.
About Thursday 7 February 1660/61
LKvM • Link
Re Puccini: ". . . when he refers to Louisiana as a desert he meant a place with very few inhabitants."
I'm happy to hear this and only wish every opera fan in New Orleans, where the first opera house in the United States was built (in the French Quarter, where I live), knew this, since the final scene of "Manon Lescaut" in the "desert" around bog-swampy below-sea-level New Orleans always elicits giggles and loud guffaws, as does the mention in "La Boheme" of "Gentilly," which is the name of a prominent section of New Orleans. (New Orleans is divided into "sections," like Carrollton, Uptown, Tremé, French Quarter.)
About Tuesday 5 February 1660/61
LKvM • Link
I wonder if there were also community "tenting grounds" for drying laundered sheets on frames set up like very large sandwich boards. The sheets would be stretched on the frames and held there by by "tenterhooks."
About Wednesday 30 January 1660/61
LKvM • Link
" . . . that it took a suitable (perhaps wittily chosen) classical author for the model of its style." Perhaps Sam's rusticated brother John was clever enough to choose the form of the banished Ovid's "Epistulae ex Ponto."
Re Tonyel's reference to a "pine box," Tonyel must be a Southern US bro.
About Monday 28 January 1660/61
LKvM • Link
Re spitting, I recall reading somewhere that Queen Anne Boleyn had a gentlewoman seated beside her at meals whose duty it was to raise a napkin to hide the queen's face "if she list to spit."
About Friday 25 January 1660/61
LKvM • Link
Twenty years later: "Well said, Chauncey."
About Wednesday 23 January 1660/61
LKvM • Link
Remember, "ate" was pronounced "et" back then, as it was still pronounced by my Deep South Grandmother Reeves in rural Mississippi in the 1950s.
About Monday 21 January 1660/61
LKvM • Link
TC, Admiral Nelson once used the tactic of staying at anchor for two years to prevent seamen from leaving the ship!
Dick Wilson, Bligh was completely exonerated after the second mutiny, which was about rum in Australia. Also, he must have been a gentleman, since he retired as Vice-Admiral of the Blue.
About Monday 14 January 1660/61
LKvM • Link
Pepys admired "the houses so neat" when he was in Holland, too.
About Tuesday 25 December 1660
LKvM • Link
Martin,
You are absolutely right, as I see in the Jan 10 entry:
"After dinner Will comes to tell me that he had presented my piece of plate to Mr. Coventry, who takes it very kindly, and sends me a very kind letter, and the plate back again; of which my heart is very glad."
The antecedent of "he" in "he did not receive them," IS Coventry after all, and "receive" means "accept," after all.
(I should have quit when I was ahead.)
About Tuesday 25 December 1660
LKvM • Link
Re Charlezzzzz's comment above about Coventry and the flagons, this goes back to yesterday and the matter of Pett having ordered some silver flagons to be sent to Coventry "but he did not receive them."
I took this to mean that "receive" meant "accept," i.e., Coventry did not accept them.
Perhaps based on my error (sorry!), several others thought the same, and, since the gifts could be interpreted as a bribe, they attributed Coventry's non-acceptance to his virtuous character,
But I was wrong. "Receive" did not mean "accept," and it's just another case of something that happens occasionally in Pepys's diary, the knotty question of "what or who" is the antecedent of a pronoun, this time the antecedent of the "he" in "he did not receive them.
The answer is not Coventry, it's Pett. Pett did not receive the flagons timely, and therefore he had to wait to send them to Coventry, who, virtue to the contrary notwithstanding, did accept them.
About Sunday 6 January 1660/61
LKvM • Link
The pictures and other information about diarist Josselin were most welcome.
In 2023 the Eastern Orthodox [Catholic] Church officially changed the date of their Christmas (the Feast of the Nativity) to December 25th.
About Wednesday 2 January 1660/61
LKvM • Link
In the American Deep South the unmarried daughter or sister of the head of the household was called the "ole miss" (old maid) to distinguish her from the family's young marriageable misses, and you can be sure that the ole miss sat with the family at table.
For some reason that I have never been able to figure out, the University of Mississippi is called Ole Miss. And when they play football it's not "the University of Mississippi versus Texas" or some other team. It's always "Ole Miss versus Texas" or some other team.
I don't admire Sam's attitude toward his sister. She's not an ole miss, she's a young miss, and a good brother would include her in order to marry her off to someone in his circle.
About Tuesday 1 January 1660/61
LKvM • Link
With regard to all the comments above regarding infant or child mortality, it is worth noting that James, Duke of York, and Anne Hyde had eight children, and today King Charles II attended the christening of the first one, a boy, Charles, Duke of Cambridge.
That child died, and only two of their eight children lived to be adults. Both were girls, and both became queens: Mary and Anne.
About Sunday 30 December 1660
LKvM • Link
Right at the top of today's annotations "Joe" wondered in 2003 what Will's diary would say for today. Will was Pepys's "boy" and was for Pepys what a footman is for the king or queen, someone in the background, always silently on hand to do whatever is needed, and not noticed if nothing is needed. Will was probably with Pepys the whole time. (As for his diary, he probably didn't have one because he undoubtedly couldn't write.)
About Sunday 30 December 1660
LKvM • Link
"I to the Abby and walked there" -- wouldn't it be wonderful today to be able to just walk in and mosey around?
About Monday 24 December 1660
LKvM • Link
"Commissioner Pett (who seldom comes there) told me that he had lately presented a piece of plate (being a couple of flaggons) to Mr. Coventry, but he did not receive them . . . ."
At first I thought that "he did not receive them" meant that they had somehow gone astray on the way to Coventry, but apparently everybody but me knew that "receive" here means "accept." Coventry did not accept them.
About Sunday 9 December 1660
LKvM • Link
With regard to Sam's singing today, the fact that in Blagrave's pew he sang along competently while sight-reading proves to me that he had perfect pitch. I've thought so before.
Also, it was a real treat to read all the Navy knowledge displayed in today's comments. It makes the work of the Navy Board so much more accessible.
About Monday 3 December 1660
LKvM • Link
I love Latin. I was the geek wandering through the hall in high school griping to anyone who would listen that our high school didn't offer a third year of Latin.
Many years later I wound up in graduate school working toward a Ph.D. in German Literature. Realizing that most of the German authors we were studying had had a true classical education, including Latin and Greek, I had a hunch that I should pursue Latin and Greek again in case knowledge of those languages and literatures would give me insight into the workings of the minds of the gymnasium-educated German authors of preceding centuries. (Notice that I avoided saying hyper- or über-educated (-: )
And it worked. Not to brag, but while I was still a graduate student, I scored an article in the prestigious "German Quarterly" that explained the puzzling structure of Kleist's "Penthesilea," and my dissertation was informed by Johann Christian Günther's imitation of Ovid's "Letters from the Black Sea."
My point: Latin and Greek still rock, especially in Comparative Literature.