Monday, February 23 2009
Not a Pepys Outta Me
Portrait of the artist as a 17th-Century crypto-blogger
It's a busy day in the annals of human history: in 1455 Gutenberg published his first book (go moveable type!), in 1836 the battle of the Alamo began, in 1942 Glenn Seaborg isolated and purified Plutonium for the first time in human history, in 1932 geek cultural icon Majel Barret and in 1944 melanin-challenged blues guitarist Johnny Winter were born, and it's Terminalia, the festival of Jupiter Terminalis. Whew!
By far the most interesting cat associated with today is Samuel Pepys (pronounced 'peeps', mostly). Pepys was a member of parliament during the English restoration period, working in the admirality (Britain's naval arm) and organising and getting things done for the British government. He's best remembered for his diary, an exhaustive and exhausting chronicle of his life during the period of 1660 to 1669. Published in the 19th century, the volumes of his diary represent a invaluable insight into the events of the second Anglo-dutch war, the Great Fire, and the Great Plague (was it a Great time to be alive, or what?)
The Grateful Dead, still rockin' after all these years
Second, he loved a drink. He was methodical and accomplished, but also curious and impulsive, and rarely denied himself the opportunity to act on any impulse that looked like fun, be it with wine, women or song. New Year's eve 1661 he took one of those fearsomely solemn oaths that many people with terrible hangovers often undertake, to lay off booze and petty entertainments to devote himself to abstemious pursuits and hard work. Six weeks later he notes, 'Here I drank wine by necessity, being ill for want of it.'
He also stayed ahead of what brands were hot and interesting. In April 10th of 1663 he wrote about "A sort of French wine, called Ho Bryan that hath a good and most particular taste that I ever met with." Haut-Brion, an emerging quality brand from the house of Pontiac would have been a very pricey and cool thing to drink at the time, and perhaps a little daring: because England and France were at war every alternating Thursday, there was a decent chance the wine was smuggled and illicit at any give time.
Finally, he was a guy who had his priorities on straight: when the Great Fire was bearing down on his home, and there wasn't time to get his goods out of harm's way, the intrepid Pepys buried them in the back yard:
Sir W. Batten not knowing how to remove his wine, did dig a pit in the garden, and laid it in there; and I took the opportunity of laying all the papers of my office that I could not otherwise dispose of. And in the evening Sir W. Pen and I did dig another, and put our wine in it; and I my Parmazan cheese, as well as my wine and some other things.Here's to you Sam: happy birthday. I hope the wine and cheese made it out okay.
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