Heavy rain and cold. I remained at home all the morning, trying to revive my taste for the examination of Cromwell’s life. I did not do much in that way as I could not find the authorities upon which the assertions against him are founded.

At noon, I accompanied my father to a Meeting of the Proprietors of Neponset Bridge. They generally have a Dinner at Squantum, Mr. Beale’s place, upon that day. The weather was dreadful for so exposed a situation. Mr. T. Greenleaf, Mr. Miller, Mr. Gourgas, Mr. Beale, Price Greenleaf and I were the only persons there. Our dinner was Chowder, Wine and indifferent Fruit. It was so cold that I drank an unusual quantity of Wine.

We returned home, and I read to the Ladies part of the Book of Mr. Vidocq, a scoundrel of the French Revolution.1 But my Wine being Claret and turning very acid upon my Stomach, I felt quite unwell before going to bed. I read the Adventurer as usual.