Samuel Pepys and the Royal Navy — Story, Setting & Ideas
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d been a fruitful topic for anonymous writers long before his day, and if the scattered papers on the subject were collected they would constitute a complete literature. The charges begin at least as early as the time of Hawkyns, and one writer[4] accuses him of what has always been regarded as one of the more modern refinements of cheating—the manufacture of a complete set of false books and vouchers for the purpose of baffling enquiry. The Pepysian Library contains copies of a number of exposures ranging from 1587 to 1611. The Reports of the Commissions of 1608 and 1618, and in a lesser degree of that of 1626, are of special importance in the history of the evolution of fraud. Sir William Monson, who in 1635 'turned physician' and studied 'how to cure the malignant diseases of corruption' that had 'crept in and infected his Majesty's whole navy,'[5] assigns some passages in his _Naval Tracts_ to naval abuses; and in 1636 the Earl of Northumberland, fresh from the experience of a naval command, denounces them in a state paper to the King in Council[6]. Hollond only develops in detail earlier themes, and Pepys, who thought very highly of his _Discourses_, 'they hitting the very diseases of the navy which we are troubled with now-a-days,'[7] takes up the same tale. And such is the tenacity of life exhibited by a well-established naval abuse, that a Parliamentary enquiry of 1783[8] into the Victualling Department at Portsmouth revealed malpractices of a kind very similar to those described by Hollond. The keys of the victualling storehouses had been entrusted to improper recipients, who had access to the stores at all hours; certain persons kept hogs in the King's storehouses, which were 'fed with the King's serviceable biscuit'; planks, spars, staves, and barrels were converted to private use; 'mops and brooms' from the store were appropriated by an official who 'kept a shop and dealt in those articles'; the King's wine was drawn off in large quantities 'in bottles in a clandestine manner'; certificates were granted for stores before they were actually received, and for articles received short, these being signed in blank by the clerk of the check beforehand; it was a 'common practice' to send in bags of bread deficient in weight; the accounts were imperfectly kept, and showed enormous deficiencies of stores; by collusion with the contractor stores were accepted that were 'of improper quality and not according to contract'; and the victualling board paid excessive prices to a bread contractor with whom they were in collusion and refused to allow others to tender.
2. Let me give you next a few illustrations of the kind of abuse which Hollond and his predecessors had pointed out, and with which Pepys and his colleagues had to deal.
(_a_) Hollond, like Pepys, appears to have had a genuine sympathy for the sorrows of the 'poor seaman,' and he complains bitterly of the long delays in paying wages; the 'intolerable abuse to poor seamen in their wages' by naval captains' who are of late turned merchants, and have and do lay magazines of clothes, ... tobacco, strong waters, and such like commodities into their ships upon pretence of relieving poor seamen in their wants, but indeed for no other reason than their private profit'[9]; the practice of discharging sick men without adequate funds to take them home; and the payment of wages by tickets instead of cash, thus creating a depreciated paper currency.
J. R. Tanner's 1920 Lees Knowles Lectures, delivered at Trinity College, Cambridge, approach Samuel Pepys not as a diarist but as a naval administrator. The lectures draw heavily on the Catalogue of Pepysian Manuscripts, which Tanner edited for the Navy Records Society. Rather than narrating Pepys's life, Tanner dissects administrative machinery: ticket offices, victualling contracts, and the chronic shortage of funds that plagued the Restoration navy. The excerpts show a precise focus on institutional dysfunction—such as the 'infinite great disorder' of the Ticket Office—and the piecemeal reforms Pepys pursued.
The Ticket System as a Window on Naval Finance
The excerpts devote sustained attention to the seaman's ticket, a promissory note meant to replace cash wages. Tanner explains that tickets were originally intended to avoid transporting specie aboard ships, but chronic underfunding turned them into 'inconvertible paper.' Seamen were discharged with tickets for part or all of their wages, and the delay in redemption caused steep depreciation. Tanner cites a specific discount: women brokers bought tickets from seamen at a loss of 'at least 5 s. in the £,' sometimes more. The practice sparked unrest—on 13 February 1667, Pepys recorded a 'very great disorder' at the Ticket Office, with a clerk beaten. The House of Commons investigated in 1667, but the Navy Board's reply was blunt: the only remedy was a reliable supply of money.
Continuous Pay and the 1668 Order in Council
Tanner highlights a shift in naval employment policy. Before 1668, officers were appointed for specific services and had no claim to pay in peacetime. The Second Dutch War prompted a change: an Order in Council of 17 July 1668 recognized officers' claims to pay in time of peace, 'in consideration of the eminent services performed in the late war.' Tanner notes this was a first step, but it established the principle that would lead to continuous employment. The evidence comes from the Pepysian manuscripts, not from Pepys's diary. The lecture frames this as a structural reform, not a personal achievement, and ties it to the broader problem of retaining skilled officers when war ended.
Fraud, Dead Pays, and the Limits of Reform
Tanner does not shy from the seamier side of naval administration. The ticket system, even when solvent, enabled abuse. John Hollond, a contemporary commentator, complained that 'wrong parties'—pursers, clerks, alehouse-keepers, or 'pretended sweethearts'—secured seamen's wages by exploiting their necessities. More serious was the practice of 'dead pays': tickets issued for seamen who were dead or had never served, with men suborned to personate them at the pay-table. Tanner notes this was especially easy in wartime, when the pressure of business prevented proper examination. The lectures thus present a navy struggling with fraud, underfunding, and administrative overload, where even well-intentioned reforms could be undermined by systemic weaknesses.
Tanner's lectures are best read as a companion to the Catalogue of Pepysian Manuscripts rather than as a biography. Readers interested in the human side of Pepys should look elsewhere; this work is about ledgers, orders, and the slow accretion of bureaucratic procedure. The excerpts suggest a methodical, evidence-driven argument that rewards attention to dates, document numbers, and the precise wording of official replies. For those studying Restoration governance, Tanner offers a clear, if narrow, window into how the navy actually operated.
Some evenings, I think of Pepys, poring over his ledgers—the tick of pens, the weight of order reclaimed from chaos. His patient tidying of a faltering world mirrors another quiet diligence, that of women who steadied fragile households after an ocean crossing. In The Women Who Came in the Mayflower — A Reader’s Guide, I find the same tenderness for small, unsung reforms, kept safe between covers.
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