language hat on 19 Mar 2003  •  Link

between him and I:
Note that this is not a modern "mistake" but a long-standing feature of colloquial English!

David Quidnunc on 19 Mar 2003  •  Link

Blagrave

Two annotations are now on the Blagrave page for anyone curious about him.

David Quidnunc on 19 Mar 2003  •  Link

The transaction with Blagrave

The sentenced toward the end of this entry about Pepys and the pawning of his lute to Blagrave are confusing. To pawn something, of course, is to borrow money by letting someone have some property of yours, with ownership reverting to the lender if you don't pay the money back in time. (As a musician, Blagrave would be able to either use the lute or sell it to a fellow musician relatively easily if Pepys never paid the money back.)

But don't assume Pepys paid Blagrave and took the lute back today. A search for the word "lute" in the diary entries comes up with nine previous mentions, including four in which he was playing his lute early in the morning. Possibly it was a different lute -- but what if Pepys previously got the lute back and gave Blagrave a note (IOU)? That might make the passage above a bit easier to understand.

Can anyone tell us *exactly* what these words mean: "where I TOOK UP my note that he had OF MINE for 40s." Does "took up" mean "took over to him and presented to him"? Online dictionaries don't help with the meaning of "take up." Does "of mine" refer back (not necessary grammatically) to "my note" or to the (not yet mentioned) lute? Or to something unstated ("notes of mine"?)?

David Quidnunc on 19 Mar 2003  •  Link

RE: Between him and I

Feature, schmeature, LH! That's just a longstanding *mistake*!

Seriously, does anyone know whether, in Latin (or for that matter, any other language Pepys knew -- Ancient Greek, Ancient Hebrew), the I/me distinction is clear? In French it's je/moi, right? Did that apply back then? Or is it just I who's interested in this?

Bert Winther on 19 Mar 2003  •  Link

David, I agree with your interpretation that Sam had gotten his lute back earlier and had given Blagrave an IOU on that occasion. Today he brought up ("took up") this matter (i.e., brought the transaction to Blagrave's attention) and redeemed the note.

language hat on 19 Mar 2003  •  Link

between him and I:
Latin and other languages are irrelevant; people have used this construction for centuries without knowing any other language than English. There is a long and well-considered discussion of the issue in The Merriam-Webster Dictionary of English Usage, an excellent source that steers a reasoned course between the prescriptive and the descriptive and that I routinely recommend to people who want usage guidance. They say not enough is known about the history of the construction (which they place under the rubric of "between you and I"), but refer to Sweet's theory that it "resulted from 'you and I' being so frequently joined together as subject of a sentence that the words formed a sort of group compound with an invariable last element." It's common from the late 16th century to the early 18th, then rare for 150 years (at least in written evidence), then becomes common again in the 20th. Shakespeare used it; so did Twain. M-W's conclusion: "You are probably safe in retaining 'between you and I' in your casual speech... [but] it seems to have no place in modern edited prose."

Pauline on 19 Mar 2003  •  Link

"...took up my note ..."
I would guess gave the money and "took" away his note. Bought out, redeemed--but physically picked it up and took it away with him.

Also: easy to imagine some pre-diary recordkeeping that Sam is consulting as he settles his affairs now that he is making better money and preparing for a sea voyage. Or maybe this is a debt that nagged at him because he respected Blagrave as an accomplished musician.

Nix on 19 Mar 2003  •  Link

"Taking up" a promissory note does not mean raising the subject but paying it off or redeeming it (I believe "redeem" is Latin for "take up" or "take back"). I agree with the parsing -- it was the 40 shillings (not the note) "which he two years ago did give me", holding the lute as security, and Samuel subsequently gave a note and got the lute back. While there is no collateral to secure the promissory note, it has certain advantages for the creditor: if he needs money before the loan falls due, he can sell the note to a third party for cash (he couldn't get the full face value, of course -- there would be a discount for the time lag and for the risk that the debtor couldn't pay). A pawned item, on the other hand, must be held for the term of the loan.

David Quidnunc on 19 Mar 2003  •  Link

To "take up" a note

Nix is absolutely correct: "pay back" or "redeem." I didn't realize I could find "take up" under "take" in my Webster's New World Dictionary ("to pay off . . . a mortgage, note etc.") or at the Unabridged Webster's online (which has a very cloudy definition).

A Google.com search for "take up my note" brings up several 19th century American sources (diaries, memoirs, letters) that clearly mean the formal payment of a debt on or before a stated date. Most of them are rural, even frontier sources. For instance, on 23 May 1859, diarist William Walker of Missouri writes "I gave my note" when he borrows money, then later writes "take up my note" when referring to payment. The lender, we can assume, keeps the borrower's note, and, as Pauline says, the borrower takes up his note when he puts down his money.

For Walker's complete diary entry:
http://www.rootsweb.com/~neresour…

Pauline on 19 Mar 2003  •  Link

Latin dictionary now in Background/General Reference
http://www.sunsite.ubc.ca/LatinDi…
redimo = to redeem, ransom, buy back; hire, buy, purchase

gail on 19 Mar 2003  •  Link

Who's taking care of the dog while Sam is at sea? Or did he act on his threat to throw it out the window?

Laura K on 19 Mar 2003  •  Link

the dog

I believe Sam only referred to it as his wife's dog. Presumably if it didn't go out the window, it's still with her.

j a gioia on 19 Mar 2003  •  Link

the pawned lute

pure specualtion but perhaps blagrave wanted the lute as collateral until that time when sam was established enough that his i o u was sufficient.

Pauline on 19 Mar 2003  •  Link

"...while he had my lute."...
...sounds more like borrowing the lute was the reason for the transaction. Also, Blagrave giving Sam the pawn makes it sound like Blagrave's transaction--not Sam giving Blagrave the pawn (the lute).

Tomalin indicates that Jane and the dog went into the country with Elizabeth.

Roger Miller on 19 Mar 2003  •  Link

Exactly how could toasted cakes be objects of mirth?

francesca on 19 Mar 2003  •  Link

Roger, I think that Pepys states the cakes were 'very good' but I believe the mistress of the house is what Pepys is enjoying more. Im assuming mirth is the same as flirting. Hmmmm.. I see more of this 'mirth' what with Elizabeth gone.

MBobryk on 19 Mar 2003  •  Link

Where is Sam going on his trip, and to what purpose? Unless I missed it, he's not confided any such information to his diary. Does he not know, or is he being discrete?

Glyn on 19 Mar 2003  •  Link

If you're British, take out your wallet or purse and take a look at any £5 or £10 notes that you have (it may apply to higher-value notes, but I wouldn't know). Next to the 5 or 10 are the words "I promise to pay the bearer on demand the sum of" £5 or £10. Originally it meant pay that value in gold but nowadays this is essentially meaningless.

But in other words, a modern banknote is another version of a promissory note. As NIX has mentioned, these notes could be traded to other people for cash (at a slight discount) and so were an early form of paper money. There are lots of banks and goldsmiths around (with their gold, and strong vaults, they are especially trusted): within Pepys lifetime the Bank of England will be founded and become the most trusted bank in Britain, so its promissory notes will be the most trusted.

Please note however, that there are still banks in Scotland and Northern Ireland that are allowed to issue their own bank notes; and there were private English banks entitled to issue their own notes well into the 20th century.

Glyn on 19 Mar 2003  •  Link

MBobryk's question is a very good one to which I'd like to know the answer to that as well. Is Montagu going abroad on official Government business, with everyone's knowledge, or in a private capacity?

As Pepys has recently been promoted, is this journey connected in any way?

Like a fool, I have for the last several days been expecting Montagu, Pepys etc to climb into carriages and travel the 50 or so miles to the coast to board their ships there. I had forgotten that sea-going vessels could go up the River Thames as far as what is still known as the "Pool of London" (near London Bridge and the Tower of London) which would obviously be more convenient for them.

Obviously, however, the ships were too large to pass beneath London Bridge. It is useful to take a look at Susanna's map of London but to focus on the ships rather than the streets.

http://www.motco.com/Map/81002/im…

Click on the square containing London Bridge and see the difference the cartographer has shown between the boats left of London Bridge (upriver; on the west) and those right of London Bridge (downriver; on the east). The difference between them in size and character is striking.

Finally, if you go to the south bank of London Bridge nowadays you will see moored there a full-scale replica of the Golden Hind in which Sir Francis Drake became the first Englishman to circumnavigate the world, and it is absolutely tiny, and this replica has sailed several thousand miles. These ships really were very frail, so no wonder Pepys considered it prudent to make his will.

mw on 19 Mar 2003  •  Link

Both the expressions, taking up a note ( an issue) and between him and I, are regular parts of our ( australian) lexicon. A curio, is the idiomatic in language more the cause of concern rather than the accepted (dictionary) meaning? The idiomatic in diaries are one of their charms.
The tasty cakes etc is possibly related to the notion of crumpet or that other expression, a slice off a cut cake is never missed. Either way the mirth has familiar objectives.

Pauline on 19 Mar 2003  •  Link

"Where is Sam going on his trip, and to what purpose?"
From the Claire Tomalin biography:

On March 2 Montagu (and Monck) were voted generals at sea. "Montague was replacing Lawson as commander of the fleet, a crucial appointment at this juncture, but he was still uncertain about Monck's untimate intentions."

On March 6 Montagu asks Sam to go to sea with him as his secretary and "told him he believed the king would be restored...."

For the rest...we'll have several days of preparation before sailing. Then Sam will pack up the diary and take us along.

It's an odd place we're in: not knowing, yet knowing so much of the coming history. Waiting for Sam to tell us things, yet knowing things Sam doesn't know yet and things he will never know.

David Bell on 19 Mar 2003  •  Link

The Pool of London is the stretch of river between London Bridge and Tower Bridge. London Bridge has been rebuilt several times, twice since Pepys' time. Tower Bridge is Victorian engineering.

The particular stretch of the river has the City of London on the north bank, now lost in the middle of the modern metropolis. Modern maps show various docks downstream of the Tower. In Pepys' time there would be none of this.

I can recommend the tourist-oriented trips along the river, from Westminster Pier, stopping at Tower Pier and Greenwich, and running down to the Thames Barrier. You'll hear, and see, a lot of the history of the river. The infamous Execution Dock has now been replaced by the base for the River Police.

Incidentally, Greenwich has the maritime museum and the original Royal Greenwith Observatory within easy walking distance of the pier, and the Cutty Sark. You get a different view of London by using the foot tunnel from Greenwich, and returning to the Tower on the Docklands Light Railway.

(All this was eight years ago: things may have changed a bit)

Alan Bedford on 19 Mar 2003  •  Link

Thanks to Pauline for reminding us that, at this point, Sam doesn't actually know where the impending voyage will take him. He has a clue (see diary entry for March 6), but almost certainly, only Mountagu knows details.

KVK on 19 Mar 2003  •  Link

Pepys and Montagu aren't really going anywhere. They're just going to get on board the Naseby, as that's the appropriate headquarters for a General-at-Sea. There's no active war at present, so the fleet is either anchored in harbor or patrols the coast (probably the latter).

Montagu has been in touch with agents of Charles II, but he certainly isn't making plans to collect him because Charles has not even issued a declaration of his plans to return; he is sitting in Brussels right now waiting to see what Monck does. Hyde, his chief adviser, has not ruled out the possibility that it will still take a foreign army to bring Charles back to power.

KVK on 19 Mar 2003  •  Link

I found a brief (spurious) interview with Edward Montagu in which he recounts his career and motivations. Not new information, but it's a bit more vivid to read it this way.
http://www.hinchbk.cambs.sch.uk/h…

MBobryk on 19 Mar 2003  •  Link

Re: Pepys and Montagu aren't really going anywhere: I don't get the impression that Sam expects his ship to be moored in harbor, or to be cruising the coast. He seems to think he's about some serious and perhaps dangerous business - but he gives no particulars in the diary. Seems odd. Why is he reticent?

Bert Winther on 19 Mar 2003  •  Link

KVK, interesting "interview". But I think it contains a factual error. Sam didn't go with Montagu on his trip to Scandinavia in 1659.

Pauline on 19 Mar 2003  •  Link

Sam abroad/aboard in 1659
Yes, the "interview" is interesting and gives a quick and easy reprise of all that has gone before--getting "spoiler" only in its last two questions.

From Claire's bio, pp72-73:

"...in May [1659], when Montagu summoned him [Sam] to the Baltic as a messenger who could be trusted to carry private papers. Pepys himself said he had no idea what he was taking to his master, though it has been conjectured that he took letters from both Richard Cromwell and the republican army leader Charles Fleetwood, each asking for the support of the fleet. But it was too late for Richard, and on 24 May [1659] he signed a paper promising to retire. By now Pepys was well on his way north aboard a ketch, the Hind....and on the 26th he handed his packet of letters to Montagu, who gave no indication at all of what they contained or what his response to them might be. He simply had Pepys courteously entertained aboard the Naseby by his lieutenant, David Lambert, then sent him straight back to London."

Bert Winther on 19 Mar 2003  •  Link

Pauline, I checked Tomalin's book and apparently I was mistaken in my belief that Sam hadn't served Montagu at sea before 1660. The service, however, was only as a messenger on one occasion. The "interview" says Montagu was accompanied by his clerk, Samuel Pepys. This might be splitting hairs, but that isn't really what happened.

Pauline on 20 Mar 2003  •  Link

Bert, you were 99% right
I should have said that before cribbing away at Claire. "accompanied by your young clerk Samuel Pepys" is an inaccurate telling of Sam's quick trip to the Baltic with a packet of letters for Montagu in 1659.

Mary on 20 Mar 2003  •  Link

The aim of the voyage

Whilst I gree that Sam probably doesn't know the precise destination of the voyage in terms of a specific port, I cannot believe that he expects to make landfall anywhere other than in the Low Countries, where Charles Stuart's travels in exile have now taken him. For some days now he has told us that he has been seeing and sorting all the papers that come to Mountagu, not just a selected few of them, so he must know that the trip is concerned with the matter of Charles Stuart's possible return to England. What he probably does not know is the precise stage that the negotiations between the Stuarts and the changing English government have reached at this point.

KVK on 20 Mar 2003  •  Link

Not a voyage
Neither Pepys nor Monatagu are planning a voyage to Europe. England has a standing navy, they just finished a naval war against Spain, and the navy is patrolling the Coast because there is a real possibility that Charles II is going to attempt an invasion with the help of a foreign power. Montagu is one of the two commanders of the navy (Monck is the other), and he has to be with the fleet.

We're getting ahead of ourselves by talking about the expedition to collect Charles II. It's true that's going to happen two months from now, but no one knows this yet. As of mid-March Charles has not exchanged one word with the Parliament or the Council of State. He is carrying on a secret correspondance with Monck, who is a member of the Council of State, but it would be a mistake to think that the restoration is already guaranteed.

Mary on 20 Mar 2003  •  Link

Not a voyage?

Sam has been told that he is 'going to sea', not that he is going on naval patrol.

Monck has been in communication with Charles already and, according to the Companion, "he[Mountagu] and Monck, *by arrangement with the King*, accepted appointment from the Rump as generals-at-sea and Councillors of State."

This voyage is not being made in any certainty that the restoration of Charles is at hand or guaranteed, but Sam would have to be less intelligent than Mountagu needs him to be if he were not to suspect that their business concerns the state of negotiation between Parliament and the King. And the King is in the Low Countries.

I agree that the case cannot be proven one way or the other, but feel that this intepretation doesn't necessitate getting too far ahead of oneself.

Pauline on 20 Mar 2003  •  Link

"Going to sea" on a "naval patrol"
Don't we have a contemporary example that ships can be sent in a general direction, be available for unfolding events, ultimate destination depending on ongoing negotiations?

melinda trapelo on 20 Mar 2003  •  Link

"ships can be sent in a general direction, be available for unfolding events," but in Sam's day, there was no way to communicate with a ship at sea. They would either have to go to a port and meet a person with messages or orders, or meet another ship bearing the same.

Hhomeboy on 20 Mar 2003  •  Link

My understanding of the situation is that there has been a "plot" sealed chez Manchester (remember Sam' waiting outisde in the great hall before going by carriage with Montagu) whereby Montagu and friends will hasten the King's arrival--with Monk as a potential ally and/or rival.

In the days preceding Sam's departure for the Naseby, Montagu and Monk have formed a pact.

The only matters which remain in doubt are the exact timetable, the weather, who shall bear the king home and from what country/city he shall depart.

If someone could check one of the authoritative tomes on the restoration in the coming days, I believe that there were several sound reasons, why France was out and Holland was already the preferred staging ground.

Remember that Downing has been in the Hague plotting and a lot of royalist traffic has occurred of late between France and Holland.

Even Montagu has been kept in the dark but is holding high hopes he will be asked to use his flagship as a glorified Royal barge.

Had Monk not come over and/or had parliament not proved malleable, then the Presbyterians would have held a much stronger hand and probably would have secreted the Stuart king via Scotland (although, definitely not via Ireland!).

As I have noted before, Sam knows some things, has several sources, wants to keep a dramatic record of events and would never commit indiscreet gossip or foreknowledge re: afffairs of state to the diary prior to the events taking place.

Pauline on 20 Mar 2003  •  Link

Melinda, see above at 11:22 pm for one way to communicate with a ship at sea.

michael f vincent on 31 Mar 2003  •  Link

1: "he gave me a piece of gold and 20s. in silver"
see the extra income our man is getting for references: popular pass time:
2:"where I took up my note that he had of mine for 40s., which he two years ago did give me as a pawn while he had my lute"
It appears when SP was poorer then (2 yrs ago) he pawned the lute for for some money at 8 to 10 % interest (no credit cards then) now he has the doe ray me; He pays up to get it back ;Pawnshops were available ; Most personal possessions were worth money even old dirty cloths: everything had value; there were always people who spent more than they have, and the others always spent less and loaned it out ( I did it many times that is loan out) Personnel loans- big business

Nigel Pond on 7 Apr 2003  •  Link

Re: Between him and I

In reply to David Quidnunc's question at the start of today's annotations: yes Latin and Greek (both heavily inflected languages) scrupulously distinguish between the nominative and other cases. For example, no Latin scholar would use "ego" (the nominative) where "me" (the accusative) was the correct case. Similarly in Greek.

In fact in both languages, nominative pronouns were only used for particular emphasis. Usually they were omitted, leaving the inflection of the verb to fill in that detail.

David Quidnunc on 9 Apr 2003  •  Link

Latin and "between him and I"

Thanks Nigel. And, thanks to Pauline's link to the Latin dictionary, I see that if Pepys were writing "between" in Latin, he would say "inter" which takes the accusative case (which in English would be "him and me").

My serious point, way back at the annotation near the top (19 March, 2:10 a.m.) was that, if (as I suspected) Latin and Ancient Greek followed scrupulous rules in this regard, then I would expect Sam to follow the accusative case almost without thinking because he was so familiar with those languages.

My "feature, schmeature" crack diverted attention from the question that really interests me here (although it sparked a great response from LanguageHat). Never mind whether Sam *should* have written "me" instead of "I" -- WHY did he?

My best guess is that when he's writing, he tends to be much more attentive to the spoken language than to precise rules (not so often, though, that he's frequently ungrammatical). That's often characteristic of better writers (but they usually correct for grammar after the writing is done). Maybe he's been writing so much over the years that he's become confident enough not to be constantly looking over his shoulder at the rules. He has a relaxed attitude.

Todd Bernhardt on 9 Apr 2003  •  Link

re: formal vs. informal writing

I think you're right, David, about Sam's attitude. I think the context of his writing in this case also makes a difference. Because it's a diary, and by definition personal and informal, he's much more willing to use spoken-language forms than he would otherwise be, and to not edit himself.

Emilio on 9 Apr 2003  •  Link

Grammar rules
I agree w/ you both about Sam's style being closer to spoken language, but not that he's reacting against a set of commonly accepted grammar rules.
DQ, keep in mind that 'the rules' back then were not nearly so set in stone as they are now. Even spelling wasn't as well set; there were various dictionaries out already, but none of them will be very comprehensive until Johnson's dictionary, published almost a century from now.
Many of the 'rules' people so commonly violate - by splitting infinitives, using multiple negation, or saying phrases such as "between him and I" - are the product of 18th century grammarians who thought that English should work more like Latin or like formal logic. In Pepys's time there wasn't such an awareness of what the standard should be, so he wasn't necessarily flouting it by using "him and I."
I see the spoken quality of the phrase as just part of Sam's refreshing directness, so different from the flowery official style of the time that he used in his more 'official' writings.

vk on 9 Apr 2003  •  Link

'him and I'
'Between him and me' isn't a pedantic Latinism. 'Between' takes the objective case in English and always has.

Emilio on 9 Apr 2003  •  Link

True
. . . but as LH noted, fudging w/ case has a long history as a feature of English that it did not in Latin.
Sam wouldn't have necessarily been as sensitive to "him and I" being wrong as we are, even though it probably did already have a more informal, spoken feel to it.

vk on 9 Apr 2003  •  Link

17th century usage
But language hat is making a point about this particular phrase only. In general it is not at all true that 17th century English was less scrupulous about grammar. Spelling, yes - that was irregular.

There were dialectical variants in English grammar, based on region and class; but that fact only served to reinforce 'correct' usage among the elite. One of the purposes of a university education would have been to associate with other young members of the gentry in order to learn to speak exactly like them.

Emilio on 10 Apr 2003  •  Link

17th-c usage
Oh, I had been talking about just the one usage, which as LH said is still part of speech today. I certainly didn't mean my posts as a blanket statement that they din no how ta rait purty bak th'n.
From Barbara Fennell's A History of English: "What is noticeable to a present-day reader of Early Modern English is its comparative variability. In the period between 1500 and 1700, there was considerable free variation of forms in comparison with Present-Day English. This is hardly surprising in a language that was only just beginning to be accepted as a legitimate medium of communication in science, the arts, and administration." Sam was writing in the middle of this flux, before many were interested in enforcing which spoken forms were 'good' and which weren't.
I still remember my mother correcting me one day for asking if a friend could go "with Casey and I," and I still get self-conscious every once in a while about which pronoun I've just used. I'm quite happy to think that Sam didn't have to be quite so self-conscious before opening his mouth, or indeed as he was writing.

language hat on 13 Apr 2003  •  Link

Thanks, Emilio--You've saved me a lot of trouble!

vk: It is not true that "'Between' takes the objective case in English and always has." Very few statements that sweeping can be made about anything in English (or any other language). The very existence of "case" in English is pretty dubious; the forms "me," "him," "her," "us," and "them" are used in certain situations, some of which are comparable to those of the accusative form in Latin and some of which aren't. Unfortunately, grammarians with more Latin than sense tried to cram English into the mold of Latin (Greek wasn't really an issue) and stigmatized those native English usages that didn't happen to match up with Latin ("It's me" is a notorious example). The phrase under discussion here is of a type that has wavered back and forth, with the grammarians putting their weight behind the Latinate form and causing the sort of self-consciousness Emilio describes. If I could drum one idea into everyone's head, it would be "The only rules in a language are the ones the native speakers themselves use without thinking about them." Everything else is claptrap, and usually elitist claptrap ("Well, if you haven't studied Latin, you really have no right to speak at all, have you?").

vk on 13 Apr 2003  •  Link

English grammar
lh - English and Latin are both descended from the same ancient language, and that language was a synthetic language. Old English (Anglo-Saxon) had a full system of case endings. Most of them have been lost (Latin lost all of its case system in Western Europe to become the modern Romance languages), but a few inflected words hold on - and they are of ancient date.

Old English had an accusative and genitive case (among others), but since several other cases have collapsed into it, it is easier to refer to subjective, objective, and possessive, rather than subjective, accusative and genitive.

The role of 18th century grammarians in the history of the language is marginal - a fleeting episode which left a half-dozen or so odd 'rules' - but for some reason this is the one episode in the history of English that is well known and it is inevitably dragged into every discussion of the subject.

As for your one rule - You offer no reason in favor of it, but I can think of a very large reason against it. Those of us who want to maintain a coherent literary link to the past - who want generations in the future to be able to read us and the last four centuries of English writers - have to fight against the tendency for the living generation to modify the basic structure of the language at whim. If you want to see what happens when this link is lost, just show a page of Chaucer to someone who has never studied it - it took just one century for Chaucer's English to become obsolete. I think it is worth fighting against that kind of disruption, whereas I do not particularly think it is worth fighting contemporary speakers from the minor nuisance of pedantic grammarians.

If the elite consists of those who care about handing down a literary tradition, there's no shame in being an elitist.

language hat on 14 Apr 2003  •  Link

"English and Latin are both descended from the same ancient language..."

No, really?? No offense, vk, but you're teaching your grandmother to suck eggs. I've read more Old English (and Old Saxon and Old High German and Middle Friesian, too) than I care to remember, and even more Latin, having been trained as an Indo-Europeanist. I'm well aware of the historical origin of the English forms, but that has nothing to do with their function in the living language (or perhaps you'd like to restore the word "bead" to its Old English meaning 'prayer'?). From the Safiresque rhetoric in your last two paragraphs, it's clear to me that you've never studied language scientifically, and I can't hope to give you a basic education in linguistics in the space of this comment box, but the basic fact of language is that it changes. All languages change, constantly, and to call it "disruption" and fight against it is to curse the incoming tide. If it makes you feel better, fine, but it doesn't affect the world outside yourself.

Hhomeboy on 14 Apr 2003  •  Link

Sam's style is personalized 'interior monologue':

"...If the elite consists of those who care about handing down a literary tradition, there’s no shame in being an elitist."

Hear, hear VK...

(one that drives me batty these days is the substitution of adjectives in place of adverbs--eg. 'How are you?'; "I'm good.")

BTW, If I were asked to describe Sam's language, I would characterize it as 'interior monologue': a combo of formal written and 'informal'--as opposed to vernacular-- spoken English, the odd colloquialism plus some personal or environmentally conditioned (ie. Admiralty, Huntingdon, Cambridge, Westminster) spelling, syntax, grammar and expressions or idioms.

On the whole, I'd characterize Sam's diary as mid-century, educated, upper middle-class, plain English... as opposed to say foppish/elitist, stylized (see Evelyn's diary or Milton's prose), or full of regional dialect or joual.

His spoken language likely contained an idiosyncratic accretion of influences and inflections--eg. yeomen class, Huntingdon, Cambridge, the City and Westminster. We should not forget also the recent likely influences brought to bear by Sam's French speaking Huguenot wife.

I have often wondered what Sam's spoken accent and inflections would sound like in contrast with Montagu or the Widdringtons or John Evelyn vs. say fleet sailours' vocabulary or those Westminster water taxi drivers' accents and vernacular.

I wonder if Sr. lang. hat might be good enough to accommodate with some linguists' or cultural anthropologists' commentary (plus learned monograph or book references) on mid 17th- century spoken English, regional differences and socio-economic, educational and class differences...

Re: spelling...I note my own is a distinctive post-colonial Canuck mélange of Brit 'n Yank with some Québanglo-isms sprinkled into the mix.

{re: my environmental conditioning... I first learned English from privileged albeit unilingual Canadian parents who then moved to Montreal & thence to London where they mixed with a London professional class peer group and also with aristocratic country-house/horsy set types while I was often in the presence of rural yeomen plus our heavily brogued working-class, Dublin-raised Irish nanny and spent a lot of time amongst Cockney vendors & tradesman in London and upper-middle-class grammar school students & teachers. My parents read the Times and we all listened to the Beeb, watched the telly, which had two channels as I recall...my favourite kid's song album was an Andy Stewart recordfeaturing his comic hit song "Donald, where's yer trousers."

{I then was taught by colonial Scots and Brits in anglo Montréal, listened to Brit wave pop, folk rockers and black blues singers, learned French on the street and entre les draps, spent several years at an 'eastern establishment' boarding school near Boston, university years in Toronto and a provicial city in Ontario, etc., etc.}

P.S. I added the above personal background because I have been corresponding individually with a dozen or so of you Pepysters and have found tremendous stylistic differences and variations between the written styles of many of your e-mailed notes and the more formalistic expository writing used by most of you (Mr. Vincent excepted) in your annotations--considerations you may wish to keep in mind when categorizing Sam's "language."

Bert Winther on 14 Apr 2003  •  Link

L-hat, Did you ever study Norse (Old Scandinavian)? As spoken by the Vikings, and indirectly transmitted via English and Scottish dialects, this language probably had a more powerful (or at least a more recent) impact on OE than Old Saxon or Old High German. You mention the OE word

maureen on 14 Apr 2003  •  Link

I’m with language hat on this one.

We do not berate Chaucer for the second and fifth words in "whan that aprill with his shoures soote" so why pick a fight with Pepys over between "him and I?"

English is a language with several thousand dialects - including the Home-Counties-horsey one - and an infinite number of usages. Add the time dimension and the numbers just get larger!

I, for instance, grew up speaking a language which was later recorded by the technical people as a full dialect, although it covered at most 30 square miles and 25,000 people. But it was definitely English!

(Pedants please note: a conjunction was deliberately used at the start of a sentence for emphasis.)

Each of us has a choice - we can use a language to patronise and to exclude, often on the basis of our own ignorance, or we can use it to communicate. I prefer the latter.

We know, as fact, that Samuel Pepys was a native English speaker, more than adequately educated and an effective communicator. If he wrote between "him and I" then it was appropriate to the writer, the place, the time and the purpose. The, then still hypothetical, reader would have understood it, as do we. It is, therefore and by definition, correct English usage.

Phil on 14 Apr 2003  •  Link

As interesting as this conversation is it has nothing to do with today's entry.

Mary K on 19 Mar 2013  •  Link

those toasted cakes.

Expanding on MW's earlier note I suspect that Samuel and his companions were having a bit of mildly ribald fun with the idea of the excellence of the lady's "buns." One hears the same joke today; hence the apparently inadvertent double-entendre of "We're certainly going to need more buns!" in the film "Calendar Girls."

Dick Wilson on 19 Mar 2013  •  Link

Re: What happened to the dog?
The other missing character is Jane Edwards, "The Wench". Pepys has paid the rent on his house in Ax Yard and stored his furniture there. Yet, it would be unwise to let it stand empty. Perhaps Jane is there, with the dog. It is equally possible that she is attending her mistress at Mr. Bowyer's, and has the dog with her. Until Pepys deigns to mention Jane or the dog, we can't know.
And about the buns, toasted or otherwise, I suspect that the mistress of that house heard the same joke several times daily, every day, day after day. Making nice with the customers was good business. I do not believe that tipping had been invented, but repeat business was desireable.

Chris Squire UK on 22 Mar 2013  •  Link

The ' toasted cakes' were of course 'hot cross buns', a seasonal food (for Easter):

‘hot cross bun, n. A type of sweet spiced currant bun marked with a cross and traditionally eaten hot or toasted on Good Friday . .
1733 Poor Robin sig. A7, Good Friday comes this Month, the old woman runs With one or two a Penny hot cross Bunns.
. . 2001 Church Times 6 Apr. 12/5 The shops in St Albans tempt us with Easter eggs and hot cross buns.’ [OED]

San Diego Sarah on 3 Apr 2023  •  Link

I'm not sure the toasted cakes were hot cross buns, Chris. Easter had been outlawed a decade ago. Buns, pancakes, Lent and Carnival went with it.

On the other hand, perhaps some hardy Anglican innkeepers were pretty sure no one would punish them for such a small token of resistance, and Pepys didn't recognize what he was eating?

San Diego Sarah on 3 Apr 2023  •  Link

Diary of Ralph Josselin (Private Collection)
15.3.1660, 16.3.1660, 18.3.1660, 20.3.1660, 21.3.1660, 24.3.1660 (Thursday 15 March 1660) document 70012375
https://wwwe.lib.cam.ac.uk/earls_…

Worcester journey.
...
18: I preached twice dined with the Lord Mayor [OF LONDON?]. lord give a blessing to the word. SUNDAY ...

WOW, Rev. Ralph, I suspect that was a highlight of your life. Well done,

Sir Thomas Allen, 1st Baronet (c. 1633 – 15 December 1690) also spelt Aleyn or Alleyn, was an English politician and grocer. Allen was appointed Sheriff of London in 1654 and Lord Mayor of London in 1659.
For spoilers see https://www.pepysdiary.com/encycl…

Stephane Chenard on 5 Apr 2023  •  Link

To return to MBobryk's question of 2003: does Sam know where he's deploying, or is he waiting for Montagu to open the envelope-in-the-safe once on the open sea?

As of March 19 (new style - March 8 as Sam saw it) what Venetian ambassador Francesco Giavarina knew of the mission, was that "Parliament has (...) ordered [Montagu] to go on board the fleet and put to sea as soon as possible with a squadron, to cruise in the Channel and look after those parts where his presence may be required." Giavarina's dispatch is at https://www.british-history.ac.uk…. He also notes that "with the wind quite contrary Montagu cannot get out of the Thames, although urged to sail", which presumably the Diary will shortly confirm.

This should be the least that Sam and other men-about-town would likely know, but it's hard to believe that Sam in his position wouldn't have got the full briefing; or, in fact, that Montagu's orders are not to be found in some archive, though we're aware that records for the period are a bit of a mess.