Sunday 8 March 1662/63
(Lord’s day). Being sent to by Sir J. Minnes to know whether I would go with him to White Hall to-day, I rose but could not get ready before he was gone, but however I walked thither and heard Dr. King, Bishop of Chichester, make a good and eloquent sermon upon these words, “They that sow in tears, shall reap in joy.”
Thence (the chappell in Lent being hung with black, and no anthem sung after sermon, as at other times), to my Lord Sandwich at Sir W. Wheeler’s. I found him out of order, thinking himself to be in a fit of an ague, but in the afternoon he was very cheery. I dined with Sir William, where a good but short dinner, not better than one of mine commonly of a Sunday.
After dinner up to my Lord, there being Mr. Rumball. My Lord, among other discourse, did tell us of his great difficultys passed in the business of the Sound, and of his receiving letters from the King there, but his sending them by Whetstone was a great folly; and the story how my Lord being at dinner with Sydney, one of his fellow plenipotentiarys and his mortal enemy, did see Whetstone, and put off his hat three times to him, but the fellow would not be known, which my Lord imputed to his coxcombly humour (of which he was full), and bid Sydney take notice of him too, when at the very time he had letters in his pocket from the King, as it proved afterwards. And Sydney afterwards did find it out at Copenhagen, the Dutch Commissioners telling him how my Lord Sandwich had hired one of their ships to carry back Whetstone to Lubeck, he being come from Flanders from the King. But I cannot but remember my Lord’s aequanimity in all these affairs with admiration.
Thence walked home, in my way meeting Mr. Moore, with whom I took a turn or two in the street among the drapers in Paul’s Churchyard, talking of business, and so home to bed.
18 Annotations
First Reading
Robert Gertz • Link
My Sunday dinner's as good as a wealthy, influential, and respected knight's...Hee.>>
Dinner with your "mortal enemy"...>>
"Welcome...To dinner, Sydney." Narrow, suspicious look round. "Have...A seat."
>>
Sydney eyes seat carefully. One never knows in such times...And with such a mortal foe as Sandwich. Takes seat with air of possession. All yours will be mine one day...>>
"A drink? Sydney?" Making the name a sneer. Sydney catching the veiled threat...And challenge. Got the guts to taste what I'd give you?>>
"Love one." Challenge boldly returned.>>
Servant waved in. Sydney turning quickly...Yet with a relaxed air. No showing of fear, utter confidence. Wine is brought. Both men eyeing their glasses. Sydney finally grasping his and taking a swig with dash and courage.>>
Phew.>>
"Care to see what we've done with the place?>>
Hmmn...Another challenge? An ambush waiting in the darkening halls?>>
"I must show you the new...Wine cellar. The King himself has praised it.">>
Ah, ha. A cask of amontillado awaiting me, no doubt. But, the challenge must be met. Sydney rises, body tensed for action. Surreptious glance for hidden assassins and needlessly lounging...Lurking...Servants.
>>
A cool stare from the newly risen Sandwich acknowledging his foe's steely courage.>>
"And then...?" Bess hangs on Sam'l tale.>>"Well...They had an extraordinary good dinner...And parted seeming friends.">> "Though, like a certain admiral and neighbor of ours, my lord knew him for a cunning knave that is false in his heart. And remains, as do I to said person, on guard with him in every thing."
TerryF • Link
“They that sow in tears, shall reap in joy.”
Pss.126
[1] When the LORD turned again the captivity of Zion, we were like them that dream.
[2] Then was our mouth filled with laughter, and our tongue with singing: then said they among the heathen, The LORD hath done great things for them.
[3] The LORD hath done great things for us; whereof we are glad.
[4] Turn again our captivity, O LORD, as the streams in the south.
[5] They that sow in tears shall reap in joy.
[6] He that goeth forth and weepeth, bearing precious seed, shall doubtless come again with rejoicing, bringing his sheaves with him.
http://www.hti.umich.edu/cgi/k/kj…
A. De Araujo • Link
"the chappell in Lent being hung with black"
In the Catholic Church at least in Brazil it used to be purple.
TerryF • Link
Black may be used during Lent in a number of ways. While paramaments and vestments may be purple -- the strong color over time having been "ameliorated" - made less severe -- there may even yet still be a hanging of black, as there is on the cross (not crucifix) in my Presbyterian Church in the US mid-South. Later Anglican tradition uses purple as the Lenten color as do the Catholic, Lutheran, Methodist and many Presbyterian churches.
Clement • Link
"...the business of the Sound"
was Sandwich shifting allegiances during the turmoil at the end of governance under "the Protector."
The Danish Øresund (Sound) is one of three straits connecting the Baltic with the Atlantic, and continues as a busy sealane today. Denmark exacted tolls for passage from the late 15th C. until the mid 19th C..
For those catching up, today's story relates to Sandwich's earlier conversion the side of Charles II before the Restoration. Sandwich was at the Sound receiving secret correspondence from Chas II in Flanders, and his carful and cool handling ("aequanimity") of the matter whilst in the company of more than one "mortal enemy" impresses Sam. Sydney was a devoted Republican, and Montague would have been a traitor in his eyes.
Sam accompanied Montague to the Sound in 1659, and there are several previous mentions in the diary.
http://www.pepysdiary.com/diary/1…
Sandwich cites James I's elevation of his father as influencing his conversion to the Royalist side (a less pragmatic reason than previously given):
http://www.pepysdiary.com/diary/1…
http://www.pepysdiary.com/diary/1…
Sandwich's last words to Richard Cromwell before changing sides:
http://www.pepysdiary.com/diary/1…
Sandwich dates his "conversion to the King’s cause":
http://www.pepysdiary.com/diary/1…
Clement • Link
Correction of sloppy editing to Sam's travel above: He traveled with Montague to Holland in 1660, but was not with him in 1659.
Mary • Link
The drapers in Paul's churchyard.
Within living memory (certainly up until the end of the fifties) there remained a draper's(? Nicholsons?) in St. Paul's Churchyard. Gone now, of course.
Wim van der Meij • Link
Further to Clement's note on the 'letters in his pocket from the King': "these letters are in Thurloe's 'State Papers', vol vii. One was from the king, the other from Chancellor Hyde". (Warrington)
david ross mcirvine • Link
The letters seem to be in Whetstone's pocket at this point in the anecdote.
One of Charles's spies, by the way, has informed Whetstone of Parliament's orders concerning Admiral Mountagu--Parliament has ordered Algernon Sidney to summarily arrest Mountagu if he shows any sign of disloyalty. This is what
gives the whole scene such tension--Sidney has been authorized to detain Mountagu if he makes one false moves, or if he blinks at the wrong time.
By the way, the whole incident is reconstructed in *The Porcupine*, James Carswell's biography of Algernon Sydney.
"The Cavalier agent [Whetstone] had arrived in Denmark only a week or so after Algernon... and immediately put himself in Montagu's way, first at a public dinner, where he professed not to recognize the admiral (who, however, recognized him), and then during a sight-seeing trip... to Copenhagen. ... Two secret meetings followed, at which the King's letter to Montagu was delivered and answered, and Whetstone left ... in a ship thoughtfully provided by the Dutch... and ... reported ... that `upon any appearance of disorders in England' the King `might expect a good account' of Montagu, who would write further when he got home."
http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/…
mary mcintyre • Link
In my Presbyterian church in Ontario, the alter & lectern were stripped altogether. Not that you'd notice :D
Bradford • Link
As has been noted before, Pepys's spelling of proper names reflects how they were pronounced, or how he heard them; but Rumbold isn't nearly as fun as Mr. Rumball, especially if he's joined by Mr. Spongebag and Dr. Slop.
“They that sow in tears, shall reap in joy.” Alas, alas, as has been said, "Isn't it pretty to think so." Whether black or purple, if I remember correctly, on Easter all the hangings &c. will change to white.
Ah, the annotations are returned to their former comeliness! See link at bottom of this page (where I nearly overlooked it).
Pedro • Link
The Sound...Following on from Clement and David…
Ollard says, in his biography of Montagu, that he left his own account, written within two or three weeks of the event, of the negotiations with the Swedes and the Dutch and, even more important, the fierce arguments between himself and Sidney at the private discussions of the Commissionaires.
“Sidney, while we discussed, leaned in the window by himself apart in a discontented manner, afterwards expressed himself against what we had asked and that he was fully satisfied upon their obligation offered and walked about the room with Monsieur Slingelandt alone discoursing.
What was at issue was whether the fleet should remain in the Sound, should leave a token force, or should abandon what had become a pointless exercise and sail home forthwith. Sidney was for the first or second. Montagu was for the third, arguing that the second would be an unacceptable task undertaken with no conceivable advantage, and that the first, the only true alternative, was impracticable because provisions were already short, the ships had been at sea for four months and sickness had taken its usual heavy toll.
This view, unanimously supported by his captains and by Vice-Admiral Goodson, was accepted by the other commissioners…
(On return to London he was effectively replaced by Lawson)
Like many a political survivor Edward was saved by a combination of the speed at which events moved, the mistakes of his opponents and, last but not least, his rare ability to keep his mouth shut. A bare month after this virtual public disgrace the government had fallen.
david ross mcirvine • Link
On this envoy to the sound, from Masson's *Life of Milton*:
"In this matter the rule of the new Government was a very simple one. It was to withdraw, as speedily as possible, from all foreign entanglements. No longer now could Charles Gustavus of Sweden calculate on help from England. Montague's Fleet, indeed, was still in the Baltic; Meadows was re-commissioned as envoy-in-ordinary to the Kings of Denmark and Sweden; envoys from Sweden had audiences in London; and at length, early in July, the importance of the Baltic business was fully recognised by the despatch of Algernon Sidney and Sir Robert Honeywood, two of the members of the Council of State, and Mr. Boone, a member of the House, to act as plenipotentiaries with Montague for the settlement of the differences between Sweden and Denmark and between Sweden and the Dutch. The instructions, however, were to compel the Swedish King to a pacification, and to co-operate with the Dutch and the Danes in that interest."
Michael Robinson • Link
draper’s(? Nicholsons?) in St. Paul’s Churchyard. Gone now, of course.
Nicholson's closed circa 1962-3 from my memory - was just to the East of St. Paul's Chapter House, which stands still -- the building had been compulsorily purchased and was demolished to make way for the Paternoster Squares development; in its own turn demolished.
I remember the place fondly; 'twas where the Fuller's iced walnut layer cakes came from, white boxed and tied up with thin parti colored cotton string, for my birthdays when a child.
Second Reading
Bill • Link
"his receiving letters from the King there"
I had a little trouble understanding this anecdote, which is happening in Denmark, after Richard Cromwell's death, and concerns the return of Charles. Here's my take on it:
Sydney and Mountagu are on the same side (Parliament's) but are not friendly, Sydney is wholeheartedly a Republican, Mountagu wants a position after the Restoration. Charles wants Admiral Mountagu to bring Parliament's fleet over to him, a nice turn-about. Whetstone, though he is Cromwell's nephew, switched sides in 1659, and is now a royalist envoy who has letters to Mountagu from Charles about the fleet. When Mountagu and Sydney see Whetstone, Sydney is suspicious of Whetstone's presence so Mountagu is friendly to Whetstone "to allay suspicion." A quite valid suspicion. "Coxcombly" Whetstone won't acknowlege Mountagu which arouses Sydney's suspicions even more!
Mountagu, as we know, "converted" to royalism. Sydney didn't return to England until 1677 and was executed for treason in 1683. Whetstone was knighted.
JayW • Link
Thanks to Sam and annotators above, I can hear my late mother's voice singing one of her old Sunday School songs:
'Bringing in the sheaves, bringing in the sheaves,
we shall come rejoicing bringing in the sheaves.
At the time of harvest, and the time of reaping
we shall come rejoicing bringing in the sheaves. '
It's a lovely memory for Mothering Sunday.
StanB • Link
Plenipotentiarys
Before the era of rapid international transport or essentially instantaneous communication (such as telegraph in the mid-19th century and then radio), diplomatic mission chiefs were granted full (plenipotentiary) powers to represent their government in negotiations with their host nation. Conventionally, any representations made or agreements reached with a plenipotentiary would be recognized and complied with by their government.
Chris Squire UK • Link
Bill account is roughly correct:
‘ . . Royalist doubts about Montagu's loyalty to the Rump were shared by that body itself, which removed him from the admiralty commission on 31 May, sent the known republican John Lawson to command a fleet off Flanders as a counterweight to Montagu's, and dispatched . . Algernon Sidney, ostensibly to assist Montagu with the negotiations but in reality at least partly to monitor his activities.
The new commissioners . . agreed to form a joint Anglo-Dutch fleet to enforce their proposed treaty. Montagu ( . . argued) that the rapidly diminishing level of provisions in the fleet made its immediate return to England essential. Sidney suspected that Montagu was in touch with the royalists—he had seen Whetstone ashore in Copenhagen—and that the real reason for taking the fleet home would be to assist that cause.
The fleet sailed on 24 August, arriving in Hollesley Bay on 6 September. The fact that Montagu had persistently rejected the option of obtaining provisions ashore, and that a nationwide royalist uprising took place during August . . led to immediate suspicions that he had covertly planned to use the fleet for the royalist . . (he) argued his case before the Rump and no hard evidence could be found against him. Nevertheless, he ceased to command at sea and retired to Hinchingbrooke. Montagu's agents in London, notably Samuel Pepys . . , kept him informed of the bewildering pace of political change over the winter of 1659–60 . . ‘
(DNB)