The Journals of Mary Butts Book

The year 1665 is filled with much joy and much suffering. In this year, owing to new job responsibilities, Sam's wealth increases two-and-a-half fold. It seems rather than being an outright crook, Sam profits from a form of sanctioned skim off the many provisioning contracts that pass his office. Sam often computes his take when discussing the business that he's conducting for the crown. Oh, for the good old days?

This year is also a great year of plague in London. Recent news headlines have mentioned a few hundred persons being sickened from vaping in the US, from a population of over 300 million. Well, in the later part of 1665, there were days where approximately 1,000 persons were dying a day in London alone from plague. To protect themselves, the elites left the city for the country, returning once the disease significantly weakened. While Sam's immediate family escaped unscathed, many friends, distant relatives and business associates were affected.

There's naval conflict with the Dutch throughout the year and Sam's mentor, Lord Sandwich incurs the court's disapproval from his perceived naval leadership failures. Sam stands by his man, however. His Lordship is sent packing, as ambassador to Spain.

Sam continues to carry on with women, too many to remember, throughout the year, and even plays matchmaker when asked, proudly advancing dating tips to his young understudy. He attends a wedding at year's end. To church in the morning, and there saw a wedding in the church, which I have not seen many a day; and the young people so merry one with another, and strange to see what delight we married people have to see these poor fools decoyed into our condition, every man and woman gazing and smiling at them. Sam doesn't dwell too long on this thought, for in the very next sentence he writes: Here I saw again my beauty Lethulier. This is a man keen to his priorities.

Sam has a remarkable ability for introspection, which really surprises me. How many persons, even today, are so truthful with themselves, let alone committing that truth to writing? He recounts a conversation with a friend, where Sam noted … how little merit do prevail in the world, but only favour; and that for myself, chance without merit brought me in; and that diligence only keeps me so, and will, living as I do among so many lazy people that the diligent man becomes necessary, that they cannot do anything without him, ….
Yet, given that self-awareness, Sam maintains a rather high opinion of his performance. I do take too much business upon me, more than I can do, and that therefore some do lie undone. This I confess to my trouble is true, but it arises from my being forced to take so much on me, more than is my proper task to undertake. I find this difficult to believe for all Sam's extracurriculars.

Sam receives a visit from Thomas Pepys, a cousin, in mid-December. Sam writes: I made mighty much of him, but a sorry dull fellow he is, fit for nothing that is ingenious, nor is there a turd of kindnesse or service to be had from him. So much for family love.