Category: Pepys Diary erasure project

Office day. There all the morning. Dined at home alone with my wife, and so staid within all the afternoon and evening; at my lute, with great pleasure, and so to bed with great content.

All alone
with my wife,
with my lute,
with great pleasure,
with great content.

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Friday 28 December 1660.

In the morning to Alderman Backwell’s again, where I found the candlesticks done, and went along with him in his coach to my Lord’s and left the candlesticks with Mr. Shepley. I staid in the garden talking much with my Lord, who do show me much of his love and do communicate his mind in most things to me, which is my great content.
Home and with my wife to Sir W. Batten’s to dinner, where much and good company. My wife not very well went home, I staid late there seeing them play at cards, and so home to bed.
This afternoon there came in a strange lord to Sir William Batten’s by a mistake and enters discourse with him, so that we could not be rid of him till Sir Arn. Breames and Mr. Bens and Sir W. Pen fell a-drinking to him till he was drunk, and so sent him away. About the middle of the night I was very ill — I think with eating and drinking too much — and so I was forced to call the maid, who pleased my wife and I in her running up and down so innocently in her smock, and vomited in the bason, and so to sleep, and in the morning was pretty well, only got cold, and so had pain in pissing as I used to have.

I found a garden in my mind,
and good company.
I stayed there
till I was ill and vomited,
and in the morning got cold
and had pain in pissing.

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Thursday 27 December 1660.

In the morning to Alderman Backwell’s for the candlesticks for Mr. Coventry, but they being not done I went away, and so by coach to Mr. Crew’s, and there took some money of Mr. Moore’s for my Lord, and so to my Lord’s, where I found Sir Thomas Bond (whom I never saw before) with a message from the Queen about vessells for the carrying over of her goods, and so with him to Mr. Coventry, and thence to the office (being soundly washed going through the bridge) to Sir Wm. Batten and Pen (the last of whom took physic to-day), and so I went up to his chamber, and there having made an end of the business I returned to White Hall by water, and dined with my Lady Sandwich, who at table did tell me how much fault was laid upon Dr. Frazer and the rest of the Doctors, for the death of the Princess!
My Lord did dine this day with Sir Henry Wright, in order to his going to sea with the Queen.
Thence to my father Bowyer’s where I met my wife, and with her home by water.

A candlestick coven
over her oven,
an ash and ham sandwich at table.
How much fault was laid
upon the doctor Death!
Going to sea,
the queen met her water.

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Wednesday 26 December 1660.

(Christmas day). In the morning very much pleased to see my house once more clear of workmen and to be clean, and indeed it is so, far better than it was that I do not repent of my trouble that I have been at.
In the morning to church, where Mr. Mills made a very good sermon. After that home to dinner, where my wife and I and my brother Tom (who this morning came to see my wife’s new mantle put on, which do please me very well), to a good shoulder of mutton and a chicken. After dinner to church again, my wife and I, where we had a dull sermon of a stranger, which made me sleep, and so home, and I, before and after supper, to my lute and Fuller’s History, at which I staid all alone in my chamber till 12 at night, and so to bed.

I see clear and far;
my trouble made
a good sermon.
I lease a shoulder to my wife
and a dull sleep to my lute.

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Tuesday 25 December 1660.

In the morning to the office and 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, which also put me upon doing the same too; and so after dinner I went and chose a payre of candlesticks to be made ready for me at Alderman Backwell’s. To the office again in the afternoon till night, and so home, and with the painters till 10 at night, making an end of my house and the arch before my door, and so this night I was rid of them and all other work, and my house was made ready against to-morrow being Christmas day. This day the Princess Royal died at Whitehall.

Morning is a present
I did not receive.
I chose a pair
of candlesticks, made
a well in the night,
and so was rid
of another Christmas.

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Monday 24 December 1660.

(Lord’s day). In the morning to Church, where our pew all covered with rosemary and baize. A stranger made a dull sermon.
Home and found my wife and maid with much ado had made shift to spit a great turkey sent me this week from Charles Carter, my old colleague, now minister in Huntingdonshire, but not at all roasted, and so I was fain to stay till two o’clock, and after that to church with my wife, and a good sermon there was, and so home.
All the evening at my book, and so to supper and to bed.

To church, where
I made my home
in a book.

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Sunday 23 December 1660.

All the morning with my painters, who will make an end of all this day I hope. At noon I went to the Sun tavern; on Fish Street hill, to a dinner of Captn. Teddimans, where was my Lord Inchiquin (who seems to be a very fine person), Sir W. Pen, Captn. Cuttance, and one Mr. Lawrence (a fine gentleman now going to Algiers), and other good company, where we had a very fine dinner, good musique, and a great deal of wine. We staid here very late, at last Sir W. Pen and I home together, he so overcome with wine that he could hardly go; I was forced to lead him through the streets and he was in a very merry and kind mood. I home (found my house clear of the workmen and their work ended), my head troubled with wine, and I very merry went to bed, my head akeing all night.

With my paint I make a tavern,
fish, a dinner.
And fine company:
wine together with wine,
my head troubled with my head,
aching all night.

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Saturday 22 December 1660.

By water to Whitehall (leaving my wife at Whitefriars going to my father’s to buy her a muff and mantle), there I signed many things at the Privy Seal, and carried 200l. from thence to the Exchequer, and laid it up with Mr. Hales, and afterwards took him and W. Bowyer to the Swan and drank with them. They told me that this is St. Thomas’s, and that by an old custom, this day the Exchequer men had formerly, and do intend this night to have a supper; which if I could I promised to come to, but did not.
To my Lady’s, and dined with her: she told me how dangerously ill the Princess Royal is and that this morning she was said to be dead. But she hears that she hath married herself to young Jermyn, which is worse than the Duke of York’s marrying the Chancellor’s daughter, which is now publicly owned.
After dinner to the office all the afternoon. At seven at night I walked through the dirt to Whitehall to see whether my Lord be come to town, and I found him come and at supper, and I supped with him. He tells me that my aunt at Brampton has voided a great stone (the first time that ever I heard she was troubled therewith) and cannot possibly live long, that my uncle is pretty well, but full of pain still.
After supper home and to bed.

Water to the sea:
wan men
said to be dead
walk through the dirt
to see a great stone.

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Friday 21 December 1660.

All day at home with my workmen, that I may get all done before Christmas. This day I hear that the Princess Royal has the small pox.

All day at my work,
all Christmas day
in the mall.

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Thursday 20 December 1660.

At noon I went and dined with my Lady at Whitehall, and so back again to the office, and after that home to my workmen. This night Mr. Gauden sent me a great chine of beef and half a dozen of tongues.

A din
at the office after work:
a great chin,
half a dozen tongues.

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Wednesday 19 December 1660.