The Book, Cat, & Cat Book Lovers Almanac

of historical trivia regarding books, cats, and other animals. Actually this blog has evolved so that it is described better as a blog about cats in history and culture. And we take as a theme the advice of Aldous Huxley: If you want to be a writer, get some cats. Don't forget to see the archived articles linked at the bottom of the page.

May 26, 2014

May 26, 1703

Samuel Pepys (February 23, 1633 to May 26, 1703) renowned Restoration figure, came from a modest but respectable family in Cambridgeshire. His older sister married the brother of Sir Sydney Montagu. Pepys' uncle also served in the household of the Montagu family where family ties were more complicated than I can trace now. Samuel spent much of his youth with the Montagus, since their country manor was considered a safer environment for the frail boy he was. Back in London later, Pepys was safer also during the Restoration since no one recalled his boyish enthusiasm for the regicides. His wife was high-spirited and pretty, the child of French refugees from the anti-Huguenot sentiments across the channel. He certainly was unfaithful, but he fit well into that libertine period. He created a comfortable life due to his family connections and his skills as an administrator, but it is his diary that is his contribution to English history.

That diary includes several references to felines. Here is one dated November 29, 1667:


Waked about seven o'clock this morning with a noise I supposed I heard, near our chamber, of knocking, which, by and by, increased: and I, more awake, could, distinguish it better. I then waked my wife, and both of us wondered at it, and lay so a great while, while that increased, and at last heard it plainer, knocking, as if it were breaking down a window for people to get out; and then removing of stools and chairs; and plainly, by and by, going up and down our stairs. We lay, both of us, afeard; yet I would have rose, but my wife would not let me. Besides, I could not do it without making noise; and we did both conclude that thieves were in the house, but wondered what our people did, whom we thought either killed, or afeard, as we were. Thus we lay till the clock struck eight, and high day. At last, I removed my gown and slippers safely to the other side of the bed over my wife: and there safely rose, and put on my gown and breeches, and then, with a firebrand in my hand, safely opened the door, and saw nor heard any thing. Then (with fear, I confess) went to the maid's chamber-door, and all quiet and safe. Called Jane up, and went down safely, and opened my chamber door, where all well. Then more freely about, and to the kitchen, where the cook-maid up, and all safe. So up again, and when Jane come, and we demanded whether she heard no noise, she said, "yes, and was afeard," but rose with the other maid, and found nothing; but heard a noise in the great stack of chimnies that goes from Sir J. Minnes through our house; and so we sent, and their chimnies have been swept this morning, and the noise was that, and nothing else. 

It is one of the most extraordinary accidents in my life, ... and the more from an accident last night, that our young gibb-cat did leap down our stairs from top to bottom, at two leaps, and frighted us, that we could not tell well whether it was the cat or a spirit, and do sometimes think this morning that the house might be haunted. Glad to have this so well over, and indeed really glad in my mind, for I was much afeard, I dressed myself and to the office both forenoon and afternoon, mighty hard putting papers ...[and]  things in order to my extraordinary satisfaction.... I home and there to supper, it being late, and to bed.

This site makes his entire diary available. Much of it is as good as the above quote.

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