Samuel Pepys is as much a paragon of literature as Chaucer and Shakespeare. His Diary is one of the principal sources for many aspects of the history of its period. In spite of its significance, all previous editions were inadequately edited and suffered from a number of omissions--until Robert Latham and William Matthews went back to the 300-year-old original manuscript and deciphered each passage and phrase, no matter how obscure or indiscreet. The Diary deals with some of the most dramatic events in English history. Pepys witnessed the London Fire, the Great Plague, the Restoration of Charles II, and the Dutch Wars. He was a patron of the arts, having himself composed many delightful songs and participated in the artistic life of London. His flair for gossip and detail reveals a portrait of the times that rivals the most swashbuckling and romantic historical novels. In none of the earlier versions was there a reliable, full text, with commentary and notation with any claim to completeness. This edition, first published in 1970, is the first in which the entire diary is printed with systematic comment. This is the only complete edition available; it is as close to Pepys's original as possible.
Samuel Pepys was an English naval administrator and Member of Parliament, who is now most famous for his diary. Although Pepys had no maritime experience, he rose by patronage, hard work and his talent for administration, to be the Chief Secretary to the Admiralty under King James II. His influence and reforms at the Admiralty were important in the early professionalization of the Royal Navy.
The detailed private diary he kept during 1660–1669 was first published in the nineteenth century, and is one of the most important primary sources for the English Restoration period. It provides a combination of personal revelation and eyewitness accounts of great events, such as the Great Plague of London, the Second Dutch War and the Great Fire of London.
His surname is usually pronounced /'pi:ps/ ('peeps').
The last volume (1668, with 128,000 words; 1669, with 52,500 words) and last years of Samuel Pepys' famous diary.
So, after 9 volumes, 3,100 pages and 1,250,000 words covering 10 years (1660-1669, I am done. And so too, finally, is Pepys:
"And thus ends all that I doubt I shall ever be able to do with my own eyes in the keeping of my journal, I being not able to do it any longer, having done now so long as to undo my eyes almost every time that I take a pen in my hand; and, therefore, whatever comes of it, I must forbear: and, therefore, resolve, from this time forward, to have it kept by my people in long-hand, and must therefore be contented to set down no more than is fit for them and all the world to know; or, if there be any thing, which cannot be much, now my amours to Deb. are past, and my eyes hindering me in almost all other pleasures, I must endeavour to keep a margin in my book open, to add, here and there, a note in short-hand with my own hand.
And so I betake myself to that course, which is almost as much as to see myself go into my grave: for which, and all the discomforts that will accompany my being blind, the good God prepare me!"
In 1668 Pepys finds his eyes are getting daily worse. Which, for a man like Pepys who draws so much satisfaction from reading and writing is a real burden. He starts trying different things (having servants and family read to him, limit his reading, limit his writing, using paper Tubes, eye drops, limiting drink, etc) to satisfy his eyes.
The Parliament has been investigating the Navy office and he has to respond to the Committee of Accounts (concerning Prizes) and the Committee for Miscarriages to the Parliament (concerning tickets). His speech before Parliament was so well taken that several people report to Pepys that his speech was "best thing they ever heard" and that he "got the most honor that any could have had opportunity of getting", even that Pepys was "another Cicero."
It might be vanity, but I loved seeing him buying Montaigne's essays in March and Hobb's Leviathan in September.
Things also shift for Pepys late in October of 1668 when Pepys' wife walks in while he is "embracing the girl [Deb Willet, the maid to Mrs Pepys] con my hand sub su coats; and ended, I was with my main in her cunny." Pepys is sorry, indeed, but not repentant. He likes Deb, likes his freedom, likes the strange, but now that he has been caught with his hand, literally, in the maid, his wife requires him to only go out with his servant or her. So his ability to travel alone and grope has severely been limited. Vexing.
While Pepys' position and reputation with the King and in the Navy continues to increase, the deterioration of his eyesight and health requires him to take a vacation and stop writing in his diary. His diary ends in May of 1669.
Afterwards, to give his eyes a rest he travels to France with his wife. She, unfortunately, ends up getting sick in France and dies of a fever shortly after they get back in late 1669. Pepys lives a good and comfortable life both with work and retirement (member of Parliament, Master of Trinity House, President of the Royal Society). Pepys dies almost 34 years after his diary ends in May of 1703.
A good tribute to Pepys is found in an entry by Pepys' contemporary and fellow diarist John Evelyn who writes in his diary about Pepys's death:
"1703, May 26th.
This day died Mr. Sam Pepys, a very worthy, industrious, and curious person, none in England exceeding him in knowledge of the navy, in which he had passed thro' all the most considerable offices, Clerk of the Acts and Secretary of the Admiralty, all which he performed with great integrity. When K. James II. went out of England, he laid down his office, and would serve no more, but withdrawing himselfe from all public affaires, he liv'd at Clapham with his partner Mr. Hewer, formerly his clerk, in a very noble and sweete place, where he enjoy'd the fruits of his labours in greate prosperity.
He was universally belov'd, hospitable, generous, learned in many things, skilfd in music, a very greate cherisher of learned men of whom he had the conversation . . . .
Mr. Pepys had been for neere 40 yeeres so much my particular friend that Mr. Jackson sent me compleat mourning, desiring me to be one to hold up the pall at his magnificent obsequies, but my indisposition hinder'd me from doing him this last office."
After following nine years and five months of daily diary entries, most regrettably, it is now time to say a final farewell to Sam. What a treat it’s been to know, to enjoy, the mental wanderings of our fellow traveler. Who among us is so candid? Samuel Pepys recorded his authentic, honest and most private musings throughout his journals, doing so without commercial motivation, solely to leave his personal record to future generations. Reading the diaries leads me to wonder what’s really transpiring in the lives of those around me. We’re unlikely to know the comprehensive truths that swirl inside another’s head, it seems. Sam lays it all out fearlessly, some centuries before the advent of talk therapy, a remarkable achievement.
In this final volume, Sam contends with uncomfortable scrutiny from Parliament regarding his financial conduct as an agent of government. Questions have been asked before, however, this time he’s a direct target. The heat is on, big time. He ultimately succeeds in avoiding condemnation and penalty. He comes to terms with declining eyesight, which leads him to quit his daily diary. Sam’s womanizing launches into high orbit, then crashes with a spectacular fireball, with lasting consequence, when Elizabeth, his wife, catches our friend in flagrante delicto with Deb, the maid. There’s some palliative comfort to be found, though, in the purchase of a new coach, properly gilded and lacquered, with attending coachman and a pair of fashionable horses, to the envy of many. I will miss Sam.
A big thank you to the organizer of the Pepys Diary website, where I read the entire collection, found at https://www.pepysdiary.com/.
A gilded coach, arguments with the wife over her receiving diamond lockets from other men and who wants to leave for France. A horrid year, the pressure is on. This is the last of Pepys's diaries, his eyesight is deteriorating rapidly. A saddening loss.
“And thus ends all that I doubt I shall ever be able to do with my own eyes in the keeping of my journal, I being not able to do it any longer, having done now so long as to undo my eyes almost every time that I take a pen in my hand; and, therefore, whatever comes of it, I must forbear: and, therefore, resolve, from this time forward, to have it kept by my people in long-hand, and must therefore be contented to set down no more than is fit for them and all the world to know; or, if there be any thing, which cannot be much, now my amours to Deb are past, and my eyes hindering me in almost all other pleasures, I must endeavour to keep a margin in my book open, to add, here and there, a note in short-hand with my own hand.”
“And so I betake myself to that course, which is almost as much as to see myself go into my grave: for which, and all the discomforts that will accompany my being blind, the good God prepare me!”
This volume i found was very sad in general in tone and matter. There is talk of skirmishes and war again, Pepys gets caught out with his new maid and mistress Deb Willet and has to suffer the fallout of his wife who then puts him on a tight lead and insists Will Hewer accompanies him everywhere due to her with good reason mistrust and jealousy. Also on a sombre note we have Pepys eye trouble advance to the point where he feels he cannot continue with the diary so the whole volume consists of 1668 and upto and including May 1669. Some passages are very sad as it describes his fear and worry at the decay of his eyesight and the feeling that everything is being denied him, his work is suffering to the point that with the political and domestic troubles he feels he doesn't care if he loses his post at work, his playgoing is affected as he cannot see as well as he used to and his beloved reading is now having to be done by his wife or employees in the evenings. On a lighter note the Pepys' are getting out and about more and due as narrated to his wife's being more forthright and demanding more enjoyment and spending lavished on her maybe in part due to the fact she is feeling neglected but also due to the paranoia of him cheating on her again and him having plenty of freedom and enjoyment there are more instances of them doing more things together as a couple, plays, parties and meals etc and also a lot more pleasure trips aided by addition of a coach and horses which Pepys has invested in and which he has long cherished acquiring as his status and income has expanded. There is also talk of them going abroad to France so socially and financially the Pepys at this point are doing very well in life. Such a shame that the personal diary finishes at this point as its a valuable insight into so many aspects of history, eyewitness accounts of historical happenings, fashions, plays, food of the time. Overall a sad loss to history and to fans of his writing.
This is the paperback of the Latham Matthews edition. The first printing (cover as shown) is well constructed on good paper, lacking only the illustrations of the first edition. Some later reprintings, like the 1995 one with the whitish cover, are cheaply printed on poor paper. Buyer beware!
Going to miss this now I've got to the end of the whole diary. This volume covers quite a bit of office politics, the beginning of the rebuilding of London, lots of court gossip (some of it correct and some not true), a lovely trip as far as Bristol, Bath and Stonehenge, the acquisition of a coach, many theatre visits, and increasing amounts of womanising, some of which seems to verge on assault. After reading this, one can only hope that the current purge of office jobs and public sector opportunities isn't going to drive us all back into domestic service, which clearly wasn't a lot of fun judging by this. Towards the end of the diary Sam is caught out by his wife with his hand where it shouldn't have been, and his excursions are somewhat limited thereafter although he begins to find ways and means. The diary ends rather abruptly at the end of May1669, due to his eyesight problems, with him having obtained permission to take four months off (to rest his eyes) and planning a trip to France with his wife. The whole diary is very readable and is such a good window into life of the 1660s in London at an interesting time, and Sam's own voice is lively and human. He mentions near the end that he has told hardly anyone that he has been keeping the diary, and one can see the advantages of secrecy. The edition is very thorough, with lots of informative footnotes, although some of these refer you back to previous volumes, which is no good if they are not all to hand. Feeling a bit lost now without it to turn to - that's the trouble with long-running diaries, you feel as if a door has shut when they come to an end.
I have just completed the nine volumes of diary edited by Latham and Matthews. I find the diary completely interesting. It is a good dose of history with a huge ladle of reality. Pepys is very candid in the subjects he covers. Mostly, yes, his work as rising clerk in the office of the Navy. But we find out about his exploits with the ladies, his arguments with his wife, his fears and his short comings, even things about his body that maybe would have been left better unsaid. But, nevertheless, it is quite an insight into the 17th century. No electricity, no running water, no conveniences at all and living in a big city. First hand descriptions of the Fire of London and the Plague and the restoration of King Charles II. He's always watching people watch him. He is really the common person who finds himself in the presence of the king. My opinion is that there is a huge presence of "Hyacinth Bucket" (if you've ever watched the hilarious escapades of this English lady who want to come across as higher middle class.) Being a meticulous ready, these volumes have entertained my for a few years. If you allow yourself to get into the diary, you may find yourself feeling as though you have a friend in the 17th century. He talks about "everything!".