Chronicles of the Undead - Samuel Harrington's Diaries: 1793-1795, London, England by A. F. Stewart
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Chronicles of the Undead is a novella that is narrated as the personal journals of Samuel, Edmund, and Charlotte Harrington. It tells three
stories of temptation, vengeance, and redemption. The plot unfolds as the lives of this family unexpectedly intersect with two vampires. Find out who succumbs to the seduction of a vampire, and who struggles to combat this evil influence
that permeates their lives.
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chapter 1:
Samuel Harrington's Diaries: 1793-1795, London, England
Samuel Harrington's Diaries: 1793-1795, London, England
chapter 1
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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?
September 5, 1793.
We celebrated a friend’s birthday last evening. Several of us went to a tavern on the Strand, and ended the night at my favourite brothel, run by Dame Montague. The lovely proprietor has a discreet arrangement with the Watch, so there is never any trouble with the law when one visits.
Everyone enjoyed himself immensely and it was a fine festive night.
September 6, 1793.
Eliza is in a snit because of my late night. She is barely speaking to me. I find I rather like the quiet.
September 17, 1793.
I had such a pleasant time at Dame Montague’s the other week, I asked Henri to accompany me there this evening. He has yet to visit the establishment, so I will make the necessary introductions. It should be an entertaining evening.
September 18, 1793.
Eliza made the most frightful scene this morning. I simply cannot imagine how she knows when I call on Dame Montague. Or why she objects to my visits.
It is not as if marital relations between us are essential anymore, now that we have our children. Really, our present arrangement is quite satisfactory.
September 21, 1793.
Edmund went off early to Oxford this morning, to get settled. I was supposed to accompany him next week, but an opportunity arose for him to go down with one of his fellows. Of course, I allowed the boy his independence. It was good to see him assert himself.
September 27, 1793.
Henri and I went again to Dame Montague’s, despite Eliza’s protests. I have a perfectly delightful time there, and see no reason why should not indulge. Having Henri accompany me simply adds camaraderie to the experience.
Eliza will simply have to adjust her thinking.
October 5, 1793.
Eliza has been occupying her time recently with Flora, leaving me to my own devices. I believe she thinks it to be some form of punishment.
I, of course, am glad for the respite from her tongue, and even Flora’s girlish giggles. Sometimes living with women can be very tiring.
October 9, 1793.
I went with Henri to his gambling club last night. It was a far more pleasant outing than I expected.
It was rather exhilarating to play cards again for money, and I won a considerable sum.
October 16, 1793.
Henri kindly extended another invitation to visit his gambling club, and I eagerly accepted.
Oh, it was a sinful delight. The whiskey, cards, the wagers, it was high enjoyment. I caroused until the wee hours of the morning, came home quite drunk and several pounds richer.
I have not had such sport in many years.
November 7, 1793.
Eliza is now complaining over my gambling and late nights. She even went so far as to suggest Henri was a bad influence!
Occasionally that woman astounds me.
November 12, 1793.
Henri astonished me today. The talk had turned to France, and all the upheaval. Of course, some radicals had to voice their good opinion of the Revolution and incite heated debate over the war.
I feared Henri would become incensed, but he actually laughed. He said their grand revolution and conflict was just a moment in time, and soon would be a memory.
What an odd thing to say.
December 12, 1793.
Eliza is in a better mood these days, with Edmund home for the Christmas season. She is even promised to have Eleanor and Henri over for Christmas dinner.
December 14, 1793.
What a shame. Henri informed this morning they are leaving London for Christmas, to visit some friends in the country. I hope they have decent weather; trips this time of year can be unpleasant.
December 20, 1793.
The house is certainly festive, with the holly wreaths and the festooned greenery. Cook made a toothsome cake yesterday that was most palatable. No doubt she has more such delicacies to come.
It will be wonderful to spend a genial Christmas with family, to hear Edmund’s tales of Oxford and to hear Flora sing the carols.
But I do miss Henri.
January 10, 1794.
The holidays are over, and Edmund shall be returning to Oxford soon. It was a pleasantly adequate Christmas.
The house is now far more tranquil than during the celebrations. I suppose we shall all have to return to our routines.
January 16, 1794.
Henri has returned at last. I shall again have some stimulating conversation and companionship. I am looking forward to our next outing.
February 5, 1794.
Oh, there has been such sport since Henri’s return, with our nights spent at the gambling club or the brothels.
I have wondered why I chose to cease these activities during Henri’s absence. My family’s presence seems to have curtailed my own wishes. That thought disturbs me.
February 11, 1794.
I believe I am dissatisfied with my life and my marriage. I have long known I was not the man I had been in my youth, wild with an appetite for life, but I had fallen further than I realized. Henri has opened my eyes to what I left behind, what I sacrificed for my marriage and my family.
I used to carouse, drink and gamble as I pleased, even into the early years of the marriage. Eliza was the one who disapproved, she shamed me, and I let it all go.
I think I want that life back.
February 25, 1794.
I have discussed my dissolution with Henri, and he has encouraged me to liberate myself from these self-imposed shackles of marriage.
I must assert myself.
March 17, 1794.
I have put much consideration into my quandary, and I have decided. I will do as I please, but discreetly, as to avoid any impropriety.
Eliza and I have had a fine enough marriage, but it has served its purpose as to children. It is time I enjoy my life, and take some pleasure from living.
March 19, 1794.
Eliza reacted badly to my going out to the club last evening with Henri.
I nearly lost my resolve, but I resisted and told her firmly to mind her own business. I will do as I please and she will simply live with my decision. As my wife I will see she obeys me.
back to top
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?
September 5, 1793.
We celebrated a friend’s birthday last evening. Several of us went to a tavern on the Strand, and ended the night at my favourite brothel, run by Dame Montague. The lovely proprietor has a discreet arrangement with the Watch, so there is never any trouble with the law when one visits.
Everyone enjoyed himself immensely and it was a fine festive night.
September 6, 1793.
Eliza is in a snit because of my late night. She is barely speaking to me. I find I rather like the quiet.
September 17, 1793.
I had such a pleasant time at Dame Montague’s the other week, I asked Henri to accompany me there this evening. He has yet to visit the establishment, so I will make the necessary introductions. It should be an entertaining evening.
September 18, 1793.
Eliza made the most frightful scene this morning. I simply cannot imagine how she knows when I call on Dame Montague. Or why she objects to my visits.
It is not as if marital relations between us are essential anymore, now that we have our children. Really, our present arrangement is quite satisfactory.
September 21, 1793.
Edmund went off early to Oxford this morning, to get settled. I was supposed to accompany him next week, but an opportunity arose for him to go down with one of his fellows. Of course, I allowed the boy his independence. It was good to see him assert himself.
September 27, 1793.
Henri and I went again to Dame Montague’s, despite Eliza’s protests. I have a perfectly delightful time there, and see no reason why should not indulge. Having Henri accompany me simply adds camaraderie to the experience.
Eliza will simply have to adjust her thinking.
October 5, 1793.
Eliza has been occupying her time recently with Flora, leaving me to my own devices. I believe she thinks it to be some form of punishment.
I, of course, am glad for the respite from her tongue, and even Flora’s girlish giggles. Sometimes living with women can be very tiring.
October 9, 1793.
I went with Henri to his gambling club last night. It was a far more pleasant outing than I expected.
It was rather exhilarating to play cards again for money, and I won a considerable sum.
October 16, 1793.
Henri kindly extended another invitation to visit his gambling club, and I eagerly accepted.
Oh, it was a sinful delight. The whiskey, cards, the wagers, it was high enjoyment. I caroused until the wee hours of the morning, came home quite drunk and several pounds richer.
I have not had such sport in many years.
November 7, 1793.
Eliza is now complaining over my gambling and late nights. She even went so far as to suggest Henri was a bad influence!
Occasionally that woman astounds me.
November 12, 1793.
Henri astonished me today. The talk had turned to France, and all the upheaval. Of course, some radicals had to voice their good opinion of the Revolution and incite heated debate over the war.
I feared Henri would become incensed, but he actually laughed. He said their grand revolution and conflict was just a moment in time, and soon would be a memory.
What an odd thing to say.
December 12, 1793.
Eliza is in a better mood these days, with Edmund home for the Christmas season. She is even promised to have Eleanor and Henri over for Christmas dinner.
December 14, 1793.
What a shame. Henri informed this morning they are leaving London for Christmas, to visit some friends in the country. I hope they have decent weather; trips this time of year can be unpleasant.
December 20, 1793.
The house is certainly festive, with the holly wreaths and the festooned greenery. Cook made a toothsome cake yesterday that was most palatable. No doubt she has more such delicacies to come.
It will be wonderful to spend a genial Christmas with family, to hear Edmund’s tales of Oxford and to hear Flora sing the carols.
But I do miss Henri.
January 10, 1794.
The holidays are over, and Edmund shall be returning to Oxford soon. It was a pleasantly adequate Christmas.
The house is now far more tranquil than during the celebrations. I suppose we shall all have to return to our routines.
January 16, 1794.
Henri has returned at last. I shall again have some stimulating conversation and companionship. I am looking forward to our next outing.
February 5, 1794.
Oh, there has been such sport since Henri’s return, with our nights spent at the gambling club or the brothels.
I have wondered why I chose to cease these activities during Henri’s absence. My family’s presence seems to have curtailed my own wishes. That thought disturbs me.
February 11, 1794.
I believe I am dissatisfied with my life and my marriage. I have long known I was not the man I had been in my youth, wild with an appetite for life, but I had fallen further than I realized. Henri has opened my eyes to what I left behind, what I sacrificed for my marriage and my family.
I used to carouse, drink and gamble as I pleased, even into the early years of the marriage. Eliza was the one who disapproved, she shamed me, and I let it all go.
I think I want that life back.
February 25, 1794.
I have discussed my dissolution with Henri, and he has encouraged me to liberate myself from these self-imposed shackles of marriage.
I must assert myself.
March 17, 1794.
I have put much consideration into my quandary, and I have decided. I will do as I please, but discreetly, as to avoid any impropriety.
Eliza and I have had a fine enough marriage, but it has served its purpose as to children. It is time I enjoy my life, and take some pleasure from living.
March 19, 1794.
Eliza reacted badly to my going out to the club last evening with Henri.
I nearly lost my resolve, but I resisted and told her firmly to mind her own business. I will do as I please and she will simply live with my decision. As my wife I will see she obeys me.
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