19th December 1663
“Up and to the office, where we sat all the morning, and I laboured hard at Deering’s business of his deals more than I would if I did not think to get something, though I do really believe that I did what is to the King’s advantage in it, and yet, God knows, the expectation of profit will have its force and make a man the more earnest. Dined at home, and then with Mr. Bland to another meeting upon his arbitration, and seeing we were likely to do no good I even put them upon it, and they chose Sir W. Rider alone to end the matter, and so I am rid of it. Thence by coach to my shoemaker’s and paid all there, and gave something to the boys’ box against Christmas. To Mrs. Turner’s, whom I find busy with Sir W. Turner, about advising upon going down to Norfolke with the corps, and I find him in talke a sober, considering man. So home to my office late, and then home to supper and to bed. My head full of business, but pretty good content.” (Samuel Pepys)
19th December 1920
“So we reach the end of the year; which is for us cheerful, I think. For one thing we want to get to Rodmell; to see what has happened to the garden. I shall like a soft grey walk. Then the post. Then reading. Then sitting in the chimney corner […] (I use my new blotter, just given me by L., for the first time).” (Virginia Woolf)
19th December 1923
“I went to dinner at Freda’s house in Portland Place. Freda asked me at luncheon time saying that Poppy Baring wanted me to come. I was rather surprised to find when I arrived that Freda wasn’t there and that our party consisted only of Poppy, Myrtle Farquharson and a young man called Astaire – an American actor. Poppy was looking lovely, all in white, like a dark red rose. She is what I imagine Josephine must have been when young. It was a strange and beautiful evening. After dinner we sat around the fire , talking and telling ghost stories. The we went to the Embassy where while the others danced I talked to Poppy and liked her very much. When I was alone with Poppy in the taxi home, I put my arms around her and kissed her She clung to me passionately. We drove to Gower Street and she came in with me. She lay on the sofa looking so lovely in a dim light – a flutter of white silk from which her head emerged with the short jet black hair spread out behind it – her large dark eyes were bent on me sometimes full of grave and anxious meditation at others starlit with laughter, for even when she was saying the most sad and solemn things – such as what must I think of her – or how she had tonight broken her last resolution of never being made love to by a married man – even at such moments I could make her laugh. I felt very unrepentant of my sin.” (Duff Cooper)
19th December 1946
“It was snowing when I left for the office. Was invited to three cocktail parties, and went to one. John Murray’s, at delightful No. 50 Albermarle Street, surrounded by Byron relics. Surrounded by old faces. The party was given for Freya Stark. Why? When dozens of the other guests were just as distinguished. I was much moved by Byron’s glove in a case, and the shirt worn at his wedding which had been George II’s (shirt not wedding).” (James Lees-Milne)
19th December 1955
“To House of Lords – dull committee stage of copyright Bill. Then to H of C. Cheese and wine party in Members’ Dining Room. Somebody asks Reginald Maudling, Minister of Supply, if he is a gourmet. ‘No,’ he replies, ‘I just like food.’” (Kenneth Rose)
19th December 1970
“Martin Gilliat calls for me at 6.15 to drive me down to his house at Welwyn for the weekend. He has been acting as a steward at Ascot this afternoon, where he had to take the Queen, Princess Margaret and a covey of Royal children to see a race from one of the jumps. ‘The trouble is,’ he says, ‘they never know when they have had enough. Having seen one race, they insisted on staying there for another. It was not easy to interest them in an open ditch for forty minutes. But I enjoyed hearing the Queen tell Princess Margaret, dressed in bright yellow, not to get too close to the fence in case she frightened the horses.’ ” (Kenneth Rose)