then came to them in this capacity. Such a situation is at best. beset with difficulties, and as a matter of fact the experiment was not a success. Pepys himself attempted it with many misgivings, and out of pure benevolence to his sister. But 'Pall' was not an amiable character. He was 'afeard of her ill temper'; and this was not the worst of her faults, for, even as a guest, she had been caught pilfering. He determined to keep her in her place from the first, and refused to let her sit at table with himself and his wife, 'so that she may not expect it hereafter' from him. However, she soon grew lazy, and demoralised the other maid, Jane. Matters finally came to a head on the 25th of August 1661, and after a stormy interview, at which he brought down her proud spirit,' it was arranged that she should retire to his father's house at Brampton in Huntingdonshire, whither she departed on the 5th of September 1661, ' crying exceedingly,' with 20s. and some excellent advice from Pepys. Some others followed in rather rapid succession, none of whom were of any note except the brilliant Gosnell, whose term of service, however, was only four or five days-from the 4th to the 9th of December 1662. Ostensibly she was withdrawn by her uncle, Justice Jiggins, who required her services for some special business. But from Pepys' account of the matter she seems to have expected more liberty than she would have obtained in his household, and probably was not unwilling to give up her place. Shortly afterwards we hear of her appearance on the stage, where she rose to considerable distinction. By this time the number of servants in the house had increased to at least three; but Mrs. Pepys seems to have managed without a maid of her own till Mary Ashwell was engaged in this capacity on the 12th of March 1662, at 4l. a year. Pepys considered these wages (equivalent to about 181. of our money) high; but on the 6th of October 1666, he speaks of a maid who asked 201. a year, and who, though coming with a great reputation, turned out to be 'a tawdry wench who would take 81.' It is not quite easy to determine whether it was servants' wages or Pepys' ideas which had risen in the interval of four years. Pretty, witty, a good dancer, and 'with a very fine carriage' which put his wife's to shame, Ashwell delighted Pepys with her merry talk, and still more with her musical ability. Before long, however, Mrs. Pepys, stimulated perhaps by the 'very fine carriage,' became jealous, reproaching her husband and rating her maid. Domestic relations became very strained, and once, much to Pepys' annoyance, there was an altercation between them at Hinchingbrooke House. At length they came to blows, and soon afterwards Ashwell left, on the 25th of August 1663.

Incidents of this kind, though somewhat startling to us, were by no means unusual in the domestic life of the period. Mrs. Pepys seems to have used her fists freely in her household management, though, judging by her portrait, the punishment can hardly have 1 Domestic Life under the Stuarts, by Elizabeth Godfrey, p. 209.

been very painful. On the 11th of January 1663, Pepys, being angered at the idleness of his servants, directs his wife to beat at least the little girl'; and on a subsequent occasion the same or a similar small culprit was punished rather mercilessly for the sins of the others (February 19, 1664):

At supper, hearing by accident of my mayds their letting in a rogueing Scotch woman that haunts the office, to helpe them to washe and scoure in our house, and that very lately, I fell mightily out, and made my wife, to the disturbance of the house and neighbours, to beat our little girle, and then we shut her down into the cellar, and there she lay all night.

He himself frequently chastises his boy, and he once committed an atrocious assault upon a woman servant (April 12, 1667):

Coming homeward again, saw my door and hatch open, left so by Luce, our cook mayde, which so vexed me that I did give her a kick in our entry and offered a blow at her.

Nemesis, however, was present in the shape of Sir William Penn's footboy, who witnessed the incident, and as Pepys feared (probably with good reason) would be telling the family of it.' Even Mrs. Pepys was not safe from corporal admonishment, and he once came to blows with her in bed—an arena which must have seriously cramped the style of the combatants (October 7, 1664):

Lay pretty while with some discontent abed, even to the having bad words with my wife, and blows too, about the ill-serving of our victuals yesterday; but all ended in love.

Sometimes, however, she was not so easily appeased (December 19,

· 1664):

Going to bed betimes last night we waked betimes, and from our people's being forced to take the key to go out to light a candle, I was very angry and begun to find fault with my wife, for not commanding her servants as she ought. Thereupon she giving me some cross answer, I did strike her over her left eye such a blow as the poor wretch did cry out and was in great pain, but yet her spirit was such as to endeavour to bite and scratch me.

So again (July 12, 1667):

So home, and there find my wife in a dogged humour for my not dining at home, and I did give her a pull by the nose and some ill words, which she provoked me to by something she spoke, that we fell extraordinarily out, insomuch that I going to the office to avoid further anger, she followed me in a devilish manner thither, and with much ado I got her into the garden out of hearing to prevent shame, and so home, and by degrees I found it necessary to calme her.

Our natural indignation at Pepys' behaviour is half paralysed by the indifference with which it is narrated. Cuffs and blows seem incidents of domestic life too ordinary for comment, and, though Pepys displays his usual sensitiveness to outside opinion on the

subject, internal family relations do not appear to have been disturbed by them. But it shows incidentally that, in reference to women, the chivalry of the day still savoured of the age when woman was half wife, half chattel.'

Five centuries before Pepys the Troubadours had preached, and to a certain extent effected, the deliverance of woman from this thraldom; but even they could not wholly shake off the instincts of the old Adam.

My boy, if you wish to make constant your Venus,

Attend to the plan I disclose—

Her first naughty word you meet with a menace,

Her next-drop your fist on her nose.

RUTHERFORD, The Trouba ou 's, p. 129.

This was the advice of Rambaud of Vaquieras in the twelfth century, and it was evidently not out of date at the end of the seventeenth.

However, to return to the story. After Ashwell's departure, Mrs. Pepys remained without a lady's-maid for more than a year, till, on the 8th of September 1664, Mary Mercer came to fill her place. Her engagement had been a matter of much consideration by the Pepys. On the 28th of July 1664 he writes

My present posture is thus: my wife in the country and my mayde Besse with her and all quiett there. I am endeavouring to find a woman for her to my mind, and above all one that understands musique, especially singing. I am the willinger to keepe one because I am in good hopes to get 2 or 300l. per annum extraordinary by the business of the victualling of Tangier.

But as he further tells us :

I do now live very prettily at home, being most seriously, quietly, and neatly served by my two mayds Jane and Sue, with both of whom I am mightily well pleased.

It was accordingly with some misgivings that he ventured to disturb this peaceful state of things; and even after Mercer had been definitely engaged, he writes on the 29th of August 1664:

But I must remember that, never since I was a housekeeper, I ever lived so quietly, without any noise or one angry word almost, as I have done since my present mayds Besse, Jane, and Susan came and were together. Now I have taken a boy and am taking a woman, I pray God we may not be worse, but I will observe it.

The boy was Tom Edwards, also a songster, 'having been bred in the Kings Chappell these four years.' Pepys engaged him as a clerk, but no doubt with an eye to his musical capabilities. These gave great satisfaction to his master, who writes of him on the 9th of September 1664: 'My boy, a brave boy, sings finely, and is the most pleasant boy at present, while his ignorant boy's tricks last, that I

ever saw.' The last part of this eulogy may sound strange to us, but Pepys had a large heart.

Mercer came on the recommendation of Will Hewer, Pepys' clerk and factotum, but the situation had almost been promised to a kinswoman' of his friend Mr. Blagrave, who seems to have been prevented at the last moment by ill-health from accepting it. Pepys was at first not over-anxious to engage Mercer, for a reason which illustrates his sensitiveness to public opinion (August 1, 1664):

So home, and there talked long with Will about the young woman of his family which he spoke of for to live with my wife, but though she hath very many good qualitys, yet being a neighbour's child and young and not very staid, I dare not venture of having her, because of her being able to spread any report. of our family upon any discontent among the heart of our neighbours. So that my dependence is upon Mr. Blagrave.

So too in the following entry (August 31, 1664):

She is one that Will finds out for us, and understands a little musique, and and I think will please us well, only her friends live too near us.

6

And a similar fear of social criticism sharpens the sting of remorse for his behaviour to the 'cook mayde Luce' already mentioned. But these doubts speedily vanished on the arrival of Mercer, who rose at once into high favour. Probably the strange slavery that I stand in to beauty, that I value nothing near it' (September 6, 1664), contributed to her esteem in her master's eyes; but independently of her looks, she undoubtedly possessed some attractive social qualities. Unlike poor Pall, she is admitted from the first to her master's dinner table (September 9, 1664):

Mercer dined with us at table, this being her first dinner in my house. After dinner left them and to White Hall, where a small Tangier Committee, and so back again home, and there my wife and Mercer and Tom and I sat till eleven at night, singing and fiddling, and a great joy it is to see me master of so much pleasure in my house, that it is and will be still, I hope, a constant pleasure to me to be at home. The girle plays pretty well upon the harpsicord, but only ordinary tunes, but hath a good hand; sings a little, but hath a good voyce and eare.

Pepys must have made no secret of his admiration, for Mrs. Pepys very soon took occasion to interfere (September 19, 1664):

Up, my wife and I having a little anger about her woman already, she thinking that I take too much care of her at table to mind her (my wife) of cutting for her, but it soon over.

Pepys, however, took the hint, and evidently became more discreet. On the 29th of September 1664 he finds Mercer playing on her 'Vyall,' 'So I to the Vyall and singing till late.' But with this exception we hear no more of music with her till the 11th of November 1664; and for many months afterwards, so far as appears from the

Diary, there was nothing more than the most ordinary intercourse between master and maid. Moreover, in May 1665 the plague made its appearance, and on the 5th of July 1665 Mrs. Pepys and two of her maids leave London for Woolwich, her husband following early in September, and taking up his quarters at Greenwich, whither his office had been removed in the middle of August. Notwithstanding the natural anxieties of the time, he continued, as usual, to enjoy himself. He admits in his retrospect of the year (December 31, 1665) to the 'great store of dancings we have had at my cost (which I was willing to indulge myself and my wife) at my lodgings.' Mercer figured in these entertainments and distinguished herself as a dancer. On the 11th of October 1665 we hear of

a fine company at my lodgings at Woolwich, where my wife and Mercer, and Mrs. Barbara danced, and mighty merry we were, but especially at Mercer's dancing a jigg, which she does the best I ever did see, having the most natural way of it, and keeps time the most perfectly I ever did see.

This corroborates his previous testimony to her good ear.

About this time, however, began Mrs. Pepys' quarrels with Mercer, which broke out periodically afterwards. Their first serious dispute occurred towards the end of August (August 29, 1665):

In the morning waking, among other discourse my wife began to tell me the difference between her and Mercer, and that it was only from restraining her to gad abroad to some Frenchmen that were in the town, which I do not wholly yet in part believe, and for my quiet would not enquire into.

Probably Pepys was right in concluding that the charge had a foundation in fact, though his wife's account of it might be rather highly coloured; and every man must sympathise with his truly masculine cowardice in keeping clear of the quarrel altogether.

Mrs. Pepys returned to their London home on the 2nd of December 1665, but Pepys himself did not return there finally till the 7th of January 1666. In the February following, Mercer accompanies them on their visit to Sir George Carteret, at Cranbourne, and thence to Windsor. This visit, and the reception which greeted him, pleased Pepys' vanity enormously. As he tells us (February 26, 1665):

So much love and kindnesse from my Lady Carteret, Lady Jemimah, and Lady Slaning, that it joys my heart, and when I consider the manner of my going hither, with a coach and four horses and servants and a woman with us, and coming hither being so much made of, and used with that state, and then going to Windsor and being shown all that we were there, and had wherewith to give every body something for their pains, and then going home, all in fine weather and no fears or cares upon me, I do thinke myself obliged to thinke myself happy.

Possibly the ladies may have been a little upset by their exertions,