Daily entries from the 17th century London diary
jeannine has posted 1237 annotations/comments since 16 June 2004.
The most recent…
About Wednesday 4 April 1660
Journal of the Earl of Sandwich; Navy Records Society, edited by R.C. Anderson“5th. Thursday. We sailed out of the Hope and came back to an anchor between the buoy of the Nore and Blacktail. “
About Monday 2 April 1660
Journal of the Earl of Sandwich; Navy Records Society, edited by R.C. Anderson“April 2nd. Monday. I went out of the Swiftsure into the Naseby to remain there. “
About Tuesday 27 March 1660
Journal of the Earl of Sandwich; Navy Records Society, edited by R.C. Anderson“27th. Tuesday. We fell down into the Hope.”
Interesting contrast to Sam's diary entry of the day.
About Monday 26 March 1660
Journal of the Earl of Sandwich; Navy Records Society, edited by R.C. Anderson“26th. Monday. We fell down over against Northfleete.”
About Friday 23 March 1659/60
Journal of the Earl of Sandwich; Navy Records Society, edited by R.C. Anderson"Friday March 23. On Friday, March 23 1659, I took barge at the Tower Wharf and about noon boarded the Swiftsure, then riding in the Long Reach in the river of the Thames, off Greenhithe. About 2 oclock Vice Admiral Lawson and divers other commanders out of Tilbury Hope came on board me."
About Thursday 22 March 1659/60
From the comment above re: the journals of Lord Sandwich, and with some spoilers. Journal of the Earl of Sandwich; Navy Records Society, edited by R.C. AndersonIntroduction: “From September 1659 to March 1659/60 Mountagu (Sandwich) was ashore, for the most part in retirement at Hinchingbrooke. Of the troubles and intrigues of the autumn and winter his Journal says nothing; in fact, even for the final scenes of the Restoration it adds little to what was already known. Mountagu’s place in command of the fleet had been taken by Lawson and Vice-Admiral and the new commander, by bringing the fleet up the Thames at a critical moment and by declaring firmly for the return of Parliament, had a great share in the series of events that which made the Restoration inevitable. “
About Monday 31 May 1669
The was a man named Samuel PepysA Diary Samuel did keepHe recorded his lifeI’ll miss him and his wifeBut all of you my dear friends, I will keep……
Many thanks to the world’s most wonderful host, Phil Gyford, all of the annotators and lurkers who’ve shared the adventure. It’s been a wonderful community to share each day.
About Sunday 30 May 1669
Sam's final entry is coming with tomorrow's entry -May has 31 days, so we have one left to enjoy!
"and so to bed"...we have one more day to enjoy before he pulls up the covers for good.. we'll cherish while we can..
About Wednesday 26 May 1669
From Davidson’s “Catherine of Braganza” p. 241-2
“For the fourth time, in the early spring…..Catherine was raised to the seventh heaven of hope, only to descend to the abyss of regret and disappointment. On May 19th, she was dining in her own apartments at Whitehall, in her white pinner and apron, with the King, and Pepys, who had come to see Charles on business, and was admitted to the Queen’s lodging, thought that she seemed handsomer so than in her smart attire.. On the 26th of the month, Catherine was taken suddenly ill, and Madame Nun, Chiffinch’s sister, and another of her women, had to be sent for in haste, from dinner with Pepys, which confirmed the world in its hopes of the Queen’s condition. This Chiffinch, or “Chivens’ as Pepys calls him, was one of the King’s confidential servants.
On June 1 Arlington wrote to Temple that the Queen was very well, and that everyone was rejoicing in the hopes that they dared to believe well founded. But on June 7 Charles had to write to Madame [his sister in Paris], to whom he had a month before confided his expectations.“My wife after all hopes has miscarried, again, without visible incident. The physicians are divided whether it were false conception, or a good one”.
The physicians present were Dr. Cox and Dr. Williams, but they were instructed by Buckingham, at least so Burnet says, to deny that there had ever been any miscarriage, and to spread a report abroad that it was an impossibility for the Queen ever to have children.
It is odd, after Charles’s declaration that there had been no visible incident, to read in Clayton’s letter to Sir Robert Paston that Catherine’s illness was produced by fright, caused by an ‘unfortunate accident with one of the King’s tame foxes, which, stealing after the King unknown into the bedchamber, lay there all night and in the morning, very early, leaped upon the bed, and run over the Queen’s face and into the bed.” This was quite enough to account for anything, and Catherine suffered from Charles’s inconvenient attachment to his pets, which he carried on to an excess. His King Charles spaniels not only followed him on all his walks, but brought up their families in his rooms, and even his bed. The consequence, on this occasion, of his passion for pets was somewhat fatal.
Buckingham and Lauderdale seized at once on the miscarriage to raise the divorce question once more….”