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Samuel Harrington’s Diaries
1793-1795
London, England


April 26, 1793.
A rather uneventful day.
I accomplished some profitable business at the Exchange; trade was excellent, a rare thing these days. Owen’s coffeehouse was livelier than usual, very spirited with political debate and talk of the war. It was quite enjoyable.
The vicar stopped in for a late afternoon visit. He was brimming with accounts of our new neighbours, Henri Forain, and the cousin, Eleanor de Burgh. The vicar seems to think they are foreign, of French origin he believes. I do hope they are not Catholic; the vicar did not seem to think they were. I know such things are not taken into much account these days, but one does have to have standards.
I wearily listened to Eliza at dinner, as she complained about the household accounts. She never ceases to beg for more money. I cannot reason why she has such trouble keeping expenses to a minimum. She is the one who insisted we hire a cook, and staff. She must make do on the money that has been allowed.

April 30, 1793.
Eliza has invited those foreign neighbours to her card party tomorrow. They are to be her honoured guests and she plans to make the proper introductions into our little neighbourhood community. She is all aflutter over the details, and the household is in a domestic uproar.
I do wish Eliza would not carry on so about her parties. It is so tedious and annoying.

May 2, 1793.
Eliza’s little card party was quite the success; even I enjoyed myself. Our favoured guests were witty and charming; utterly delightful. Henri was particularly well versed in all manner of subjects. It made for fine conversation. He also has good taste in port, bringing an excellent vintage as a gift. The cousin, Miss de Burgh, was likewise well mannered and poised, a proper lady.
Both were excellent whist players; several of the other guests remarked on their skill. I had the privilege of being partnered with Henri during the evening and the fortune to have the winning hands as a result. I do enjoy a lively card game with a good partner.
I fear our neighbours may be in slightly ill health, though, as both were of rather a pale complexion. And they did not seem to partake much of the cheese and wine that was served.
I may suggest a good elixir to restore their vigour.

May 7, 1793.
I talked to Henri again this day.
He kindly thanked me for the invitation, and remarked on the fine time he had enjoyed. I replied it had been our pleasure to have him as a guest, and would happily extend another invitation. He seemed quite pleased.
As such, I informed Eliza to make a point of inviting both Henri and Eleanor to her next card party; she was ecstatic. Eliza so lives for her entertainments and it does keep her quite occupied, for which I am thankful.

May 9, 1793.
Eliza has arranged for a family outing tomorrow evening. She insists we take the children to Vauxhall. I am sure Flora will enjoy it and I am equally certain Edmund would much rather be carousing with his friends. I would prefer to stay at home, but Eliza insists. She says this will be one of the few times we have together as a family before Edmund goes off to Oxford.

May 10, 1793.
Vauxhall was tedious, crowded and a wasted expense. Of course Eliza loved it, and Flora was swept up in the whole garish entertainment. Edmund strayed from our little party, no doubt trysting in the shadows with some gullible young lady.

May 11, 1793.
I ran into Henri today at the bookshop. It seems we have similar taste in books; we both take an interest in the works of William Blake. We shared the walk back to Holburn Street, and had the most lively, invigorating discussion.

May 12, 1793.
The vicar was in rare form this morning at services. He preached soundly on morality and family, a subject I heartily approve, but I would have preferred to do without the lecture on the sins of the brothels. There is nothing wrong with a gentleman indulging on occasion.
I will say, though, the vicar did hold the congregation spellbound; even Edmund did not fidget in the pew. Perhaps that year abroad has instilled some decorum in the young man. My darling Flora was the perfect angel, as always. She has become quite the lady at seventeen, with her mother’s fair and delicate features. Thank heavens she has not inherited her disposition. Eliza even managed some cheer; the vicar had informed her before services she was on the ladies’ committee to raise funds for foundlings.
Disappointing that neither Henri, nor Eleanor came to services. The vicar thinks they may indeed be Catholic after all; such a pity. I hope I can overlook that flaw, for Henri is such an interesting gentleman.

May 15, 1793.
The vicar visited this morning. He was rather disturbed regarding some neighbourhood disappearances that have happened recently. It seems that some vagrants have gone missing. I do not know why he is so concerned, they were just hired labourers. Most likely they simply left. That type is always so ungrateful.

May 17, 1793.
Eliza held another of her soirees last evening. A dull affair, but at least Henri put in an appearance. He provided good conversation and pleasant company; we have a great deal in common.

May 27, 1793.
I must say Henri is becoming rather an agreeable friend, and I have taken to spending at least one afternoon a week in his company.
A pity that Eleanor has not fostered quite the same relationship with Eliza, my wife could use someone to keep her occupied.

June 4, 1793.
We spent a quiet family evening last night. It was agreeable to have everyone gathered together. With Edmund off to school soon, and Flora near to a marrying age, it will be nice to have such pleasant memories when they are no longer under this roof.

June 12, 1793.
The trading went very poorly this morning, good investments are becoming scarce. This blasted war with France is still interfering with business, and I may have to contemplate new ventures.

June 20, 1793.
This morning Eliza was going on about redecorating the house and I was absolutely appalled at the proposed cost. I had to be firm and tell her such expense was not to be borne. Which caused a terrible argument; she refuses to recognize the situation.
She simply does not understand how bad the financial market is of late, with trade being so depressed because of this damned war. There are fewer opportunities at the Exchange these days. I can always hope for some luck at the coffeehouse this afternoon, a hint of some lucrative holding.
Perhaps I may discuss my problems with Henri, he has espoused some interesting ideas on finance.

June 27, 1793.
Henri has expressed interest in seeing more of London. I believe his social circle is still small, poor man, being he is a foreigner. It is a pity he is not English.
Still, one cannot judge him too harshly. He is a good enough fellow, I could make judicious introductions.

July 8, 1793.
I invited Henri to accompany me to Owen’s this afternoon. He fit in well with the fellows, as he is a fair conversationalist and well versed in politics, the war and business. He can discourse in debate with the best, and thank heaven he does not hold to radical views.
Henri left a fine impression.

July 10, 1793.
Henri enjoyed his visit to the coffeehouse, and expressed interest in returning. I certainly would enjoy the company.

July 25, 1793.
My associates and friends have taken to Henri and spoken highly of him. I can say I am glad of that, for I would dislike having to shun his friendship. He is a great wit, and well versed in politics. I dare say that is why they ignore the fact he is foreign.

August 4, 1793.
Henri has taken to joining me regularly in my visits to Owen’s coffeehouse. He is astute and I have benefited well from his sound advice. I may even make a tidy profit on some of the investments he advocated, despite the unease in the market this war with the French has been causing.

August 8, 1793.
Business is better. I managed to invest in a venture for supplying the Navy. I should make some fair profit if this war continues for any length.

August 17, 1793.
Eliza had taken to fussing again, with Edmund to leave soon for school. I caught her weeping this morning in the back parlour. The fact a neighbourhood boy smiled at Flora last Sunday has not helped matters. Why do women get so emotional?

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