Pepys into the majestic past

SAM THE MAN: Samuel Pepys' diary illuminates the "British character".

SHOULD this crazy topsy-turvy process that is the Great Flag referenda go ahead, there's an outside chance that the distinctive Jack in the top quarter of our current flag will get the royal heave-ho.

Like it or not, the Union Jack symbolises a significant part of our collective history - plus it is a classy piece of graphic design that looks cool on coffee mugs and underpants alike.

But at one time it represented - for better or worse - the greatest empire the world has ever known. We knew this by those great wodges of red on the old school atlases - a remarkable achievement for an island conglomerate smaller than New Zealand.

This dominance came, in part, from Britain's proximity to the fruits of European civilisation as a whole. It later got the edge through its own technological breakthroughs that powered what we call the Industrial Revolution.

But even before this, its maritime expertise and appetite for aggrandisement and a quick quid allowed it to build a remarkable culture and very quaint customs.

A 17th century snapshot of this is captured in the astounding document known as The Diary of Samuel Pepys.

Pepys came from a modest background but rose to be secretary of the Admiralty, an influential position during momentous times. His candid entries on personal and professional matters provided illuminating observations on what came to be known as the "British character".

Take, for instance, his entry for October 13, 1660, evidencing a prime example of good old British stiff upper lip:

"I went out to Charing Cross to see Major-General Harrison hanged, drawn and quartered - which was done there - he looking as cheerfully as any man could do in that condition."

Now, at first reading, the terms being "hanged, drawn and quartered" can easily slip off the eyeballs if one is unfamiliar with their nuances. But if one is aware that it refers to first being hung by the neck, but cut down while still alive, then having your abdomen sliced open, your genitals excised and all your lower vital organs "drawn" out for public display, before eventual quartering (meaning literally chopped into four pieces), then you can start to appreciate how Major-General Harrison's cheerful disposition in the face of such goings-on was most commendable.

Obviously someone thought he'd been a naughty boy. Perhaps he was an early tagger.

Or Pepys' entry for January 28, 1661, illustrating fine old British forbearance:

"To the theatre, where I saw again The Lost Lady, which doth now please me better than before. And here, I sitting behind in a dark place, a lady spat backwards upon me by mistake, not seeing me. But after seeing her to be a very pretty lady, I was not troubled at all."

A minor spat, it seems, assuaged by a fetching cheek.

June 5, 1661: "It being very hot weather, I took my flagilette [flute] and played upon the leads in the garden, where Sir W Penn came out in his shirt into the leads and there we stayed talking and singing and drinking of great draughts of claret and eating botargo and bread and butter till 12 at night, it being moonshine. And so to bed - very near fuddled."

Here we see the British disposition for playing silly buggers and getting soused. And whether Sam and his Penn friend ended up co-fuddled in the same bed is moot.

June 30. 1662: "Up betimes to my office, where I find Griffens girl making it clean; but God forgive me, what a mind I have to her, but did not meddle with her. She being gone, I fell upon boring holes for me to see from my closet into the great office without going forth, wherein I please myself much."

Here we have the classic tableau that defines us inheritors of the great British traditions - tempting ponytail, temptation resisted; as substitute, bore holes to gratuitously spy on your fellows.

Thank you Samuel Pepys for all your insights.