samuel pepys

the historicity of queerness in black sails, pt. 1

Hello, Tumblr! Let’s talk about pirates, queer stuff, and historical accuracy

There’s been renewed talk in certain spaces this week about queer narratives in historical drama. This has been spurred almost entirely by the series finale of Black Sails, which made the (distressingly) controversial decision to end its four-year run by giving its queer protagonists a largely happy ending.

If any show currently airing was going to take such a leap, it was always going to be Black Sails, which from the outset possessed a keen interest in exploring queer narratives. This was seen–correctly–as being something almost unheard of among historical dramas: a genre whose queer characters, if any, are relegated to the status of minor character or tragic subplot. But why is this, and why did Black Sails provoke some ire for heading in the opposite direction? There is an easy answer; an assumption lurking in the undertow of many an irate Facebook or Reddit comment: queer people in the 18th century didn’t get happy endings, did they?

This is part of a bigger question: There were no gay people then, right? In other words, characters can’t be openly gay in the show, because they killed men for that, didn’t they, and isn’t this supposed to be a ‘historical’ drama? So: how accurate is the queerness in Black Sails? Let’s take a look at some history.

Trigger warning for discussions of period-typical homophobia and a brief mention of rape. 

Keep reading

The play done, we to White Hall; where my wife staid while I up to the Duchesse’s and Queen’s side, to speak with the Duke of York: and here saw all the ladies, and heard the silly discourse of the King, with his people about him, telling a story of my Lord Rochester’s having of his clothes stole, while he was with a wench; and his gold all gone, but his clothes found afterwards stuffed into a feather bed by the wench that stole them.
—  Samuel Pepys’ Diary for Wednesday 2nd December, 1668.

September 5th 1666: Great Fire of London ends

On this day in 1666, the Great Fire of London ended after raging for three days. The fire originally broke out in Thomas Farynor’s bakery in Pudding Lane, near London Bridge. Strong winds created a firestorm which destroyed thousands of buildings, leaving almost 100,000 people without homes. St. Paul’s Cathedral also fell victim to the flames, leading to it being rebuilt to the designs of Sir Christopher Wren; Wren’s design remains an iconic feature of the London skyline. Despite the destruction of the old St. Paul’s, several of London’s historic areas were spared, including Westminster and Whitehall. There were only six recorded deaths in the fire, however, there may have been more which were not recorded. The fire ended due to the fact that the strong east winds died down, and firebreaks were used by the Tower of London to prevent the fire spreading.

“It made me weep to see it”
- Samuel Pepys on the fire

Samuel Pepys was a total perv.

Have you ever read this guy’s diary? 

Holy crap, dude. Keep it in your pants, please.

His diary basically reads as follows:

“September 2, 1666 - London’s on fire. Ogled at Mistress #1 while packing up my things so they wouldn’t burn to a crisp. Ogled at Mistress #2 when the wifey wasn’t looking. Ate at the neighbor’s house. Ogled at his wife–Mistress #3–while eating bacon. Crap, everything’s still on fire. Told my neighbor to watch my wife so she wouldn’t catch fire. Ogled at my maid. Ogled at the neighbor’s maid. Ate more bacon. Is it hot in here, or is it just me? Heh, you know what it is? It’s probably that hot little wench running in fear for her life down the street. Nice ye olde rack, hot little wench.”

October 25, 1668 -Went to church. Pretty boring. Ogled at Jack Fen’s new wife the whole time. She’s pretty hot. I never noticed her before because I was too busy sticking my hand up the wife’s maid’s skirt….CRAP. Wifey saw the whole thing. Oh, she is pissed. She is ye olde pissed now. She’s threatening to convert to Catholicism again. She always does that–never actually goes through with it, though. I told her I was sorry and all that s*** and that I’d never play swish the petticoats with Deb the maid again. Heh. Stupid wifey totally bought it." 

"Oct. 27 - You know, in hindsight, I do feel kind of bad about the whole thing. Mostly because the wife keeps waking me up in the middle of the night to beat the crap out of me with her pillow and tell me what useless tool I am. Says she’s going to tell everybody that I played private parts peek-a-boo with good old Deb. I told her I’d never do it again. Heh. Stupid wifey totally bought it.”

“November 14 -Tried to slip Deb some money this morning as a nice little "thanks for letting me violate you in the worst possible way” present, but wifey wouldn’t let me out of her sight the entire frickin’ time. She blew a gasket; called me a dog and a rogue – you know, the usual. Poor thing is pretty upset. I rattled off some nonsense about how I was a slave to her and blah, blah blah. Made the mistake of saying it would probably be kind of hard to stop thinking about Deb, though, because face it, she is a hot little English tamale tart. Wifey wasn’t terribly happy with that little announcement, so I banged her and she managed to shut up for the next few hours. Make up/revenge/angry sex is ye olde best, man.“

"November 18 - The wife’s freaking out about my having to go abroad because she says I’ll just go around doin’ stuff with Deb all day. I told her, ‘No, babe, I’m done with all that, remember?’ Then I snuck out to try to find Deb’s house. Dude she was staying with said she wasn’t there. Spent all afternoon wandering around trying to find her seductively lurking behind some pillar so I could nail her in public like one of those guys from 300. No luck until night rolled around. Riding around in my pimped out carriage and who should I see but Do-It-All-Day Deb? So yo did make her tener mi cosa in her mano, while mi mano was sobra her pectus, and so did hazer with grand delight, which is the douchey, fake Spanish way of saying, 'We did really dirty, nasty things in the carriage and I feel super bad for the dude that has to clean up in there.’ Came home after that, made up some crock tale about how I spent all day, I don’t know, at the farmer’s market buying kumquats. Stupid wifey totally bought it.”

“November 19 - Stupid wifey totally did not buy it. CRAP. She knows about the carriage thing, and man, she is suuuuper p-o’d this time. I tried lying, but she wouldn’t stop with the 'you’re a rotten-hearted rogue’ tirade, so I had to own up to everything. Bad idea. Wifey says she’s going to slit Deb’s nose off and leave me after getting a huge alimony settlement. I pulled the old 'woe and sorrow and shame upon me’ act and promised never to see Deb again. Then I went and saw Deb and there you did hazer con ella to her content, which is the douchey fake Spanish way of saying, 'I did more anatomically-impossible things to her in her bed and now I feel really bad for whoever has to wash the sheets tomorrow.’ I hope God will give me the grace more and more eery day to fear Him, and to be true to my poor wife. …Ha, you totally thought I was serious for a minute there, didn’t you?”


Obviously, the rest of it is paraphrased, but oh. My. WORD.

This is simultaneously the most disgusting and most hilarious thing I have ever read in my life. Because I am now dying to see someone try that awful Spanglish stuff as a pick-up line in a bar somewhere. 

“Heyyy, baby. Wanna go back to my place so I can make you tener mi cosa in your mano, while mi mano is sobra your pectus, and so will hazer with grand delight?”


Samuel Pepys. At the coronation of Charles II: “I had so great a list to pisse, that I went out a little while before the King had done all the ceremonies.” That night he drinks so much “my head begun to turne and I to vomitt … When I waked I found myself wet with my spewing. Thus did the day end, with joy everywhere.” 23rd April 1661. What a legend.

Nell Gwynne was born on this day in history (02.02.1650 - 14.11.1687)

Eleanor Gwynn, better known by the familiar name of Nell, was, at her first setting out in the world, a plebeian of the lowest rank, and sold oranges in the playhouse. Nature seems to have qualified her for the theatre. Her person, though below the middle size, was well turned; she had a good natural air, and a sprightliness that promised every thing in comedy. She was instructed by Hart and Lacy who were both actors of eminence; and, in a short time, she became eminent herself in the same profession. She acted the most spirited and fantastic parts, and spoke a prologue or epilogue with admirable address. The pert and vivacious prattle of the orange-wench, was, by degrees, refined into such wit as could please Charles II. Indeed it was sometimes carried to extravagance: but even her highest flights were so natural, that they rather provoked laughter than excited disgust. She is said to have been kept by lord Dorset, before she was retained by the king, and to have been introduced to the latter, by the duke of Buckingham, with a view of supplanting the dutchess of Cleveland. Nell ,who knew how to mimic every thing ridiculous about the court, presently ingratiated herself with her merry sovereign, and retained a considerable place in his affection to the time of his death.—She continued to hang on her cloaths with her usual negligence when she was the king’s mistress: but whatever she did became her. Ob. 1687.
—A Biographical History of England. J. Granger, 1775.

‘Cinder Nelly’, people called her, after Cinderella, and in the later, richer years of her life she did indeed purchase herself a coach of glass.

Nell’s particular talent was comedy. She had to respond to gibes and catcalls from the rowdy Restoration crowds.  But she effortlessly put down the hecklers with her rapier wit: ‘pretty, witty Nell’ was how man-about-town Samuel Pepys described her. She also excelled in the ‘breeches parts’, in which females played women disguised as men. This was partly to show off their legs in trousers, but also to mock masculine values. 

List of shibboleth names

by which the privileged judge their inferiors


Chinua Achebe (chin-oo-ah ah-chay-bae)

Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie (chim-ah-man-da nnnn-go-zeh ah-dee-che)

James Agee (a-jee)

Anna Akhmatova (onna ock-mah-taugh-vah)

Louis Althusser (lou-wee al-too-sair)

Jerzy Andrzejewski (yer-zhay ahn-zhay-ev-ski)

Roger Angell (angel)

Jean Anouilh (~ahn’oo-ee)

Hannah Arendt (hahn-ah ahr-ent)

Martha Argerich (mar-tah herr-each)

Eugène Atget (oo-zhenne at-zhey)

Augustine of Hippo (aw-gus-tin)

Autechre (aw-tekk-er)

Richard Ayoade (eye-oh-wah-dee)


Angelo Badalamenti (bottle-ah-menti)

Walter Bagehot (badget)

Balliol College (bay-lee-uhl)

Donald/Frederick Barthelme (barth-uhl-me)

Karl Barth (bart)

Roland Barthes (bart)

Tom Beauchamp (beachum)

Walter Benjamin (ben-yameen)

John Berger (berdger)

Bishop Berkeley (barkley)

Hans Bethe (beta)

John Betjeman (betch-uh-mun)

Joseph Beuys (boyz)

Hieronymus Bosch (Flemish pronunciation: heer-rone-nee-mohse boss)

Tadeusz Borowski (tah-de-yoosh borr-off-ski)

Tycho Brahe (Danish pronunciation: too-ghoh brahhh)

Broad Art Museum (brode)

Hermann Broch (~hair-monn brohhh)

Burgundy Street, New Orleans (burr-gun-dee)

Steve Buscemi (boo-semm-ee)

Bowdoin College (boh-din)


Gonville and Caius College (keys)

Menzies Campbell (ming-iss)

Thomas Carew (carey)

Vija Celmins (vee-yah tell-midge)

Michael Chabon (shay-bonn)

Jan Czochralski (yann choh-h’ral-ski)

J.C. Chandor (shann-door)

Dan Chaon (shawn)

Cimabue (chee-ma-boo-ee)

Karel Čapek (kah-rell chap-eck)

Michael Cimino (chee-me-noh)

Emil Cioran (chore-ahn)

Ta-Nehisi Coates (tah-nuh-hah-see)

Alexander/Andrew/Patrick Cockburn (coburn)

Paulo Coelho (~pow-lu kuh-whey.l-you.)1

J.M. Coetzee (koot-see)

Robert Campin (com-pin)

William Cowper (cooper)

Cré na Cille, Máirtín Ó Cadhain book (~kreh neh kill-eh)

Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi (me-high cheek-sent-me-high)

Countee Cullen (cown-tay)

Marie Skłodowska-Curie (skwoh-doaf-ska)

Alfonso/Jonás/Carlo Cuarón (al-fone-so/ho-nas kwah-roan)


Gerard David (Flemish pronunciation: ~hhheer-ahrd dahh-fidd)

The Dalles, Oregon (the dolls)

Guy Debord (ghee du-borrh)

Louis De Broglie (duh broy)

Richard Dedekind (between day-dah-kin and day-dah-kint)

Wilhelm Dilthey (dill-tai)

Alfred Döblin (deu-bleen)

Don Juan, Byron character (jew-un)

Gerrit/Gerard Dou (dow)

W.E.B. DuBois (duh-boyz)

Andre Dubus (duh-byoose)


Chiwetel Ejiofor (choo-we-tell edge-ee-oh-for)

Cary Elwes (ell-wiss)

Paul Erdős (~pal ehr-deush)

John Scotus Eriugena (era-jee-nah)

Leonhard Euler (oiler)


Nuruddin Farah (Somali pronunciation: ~nour-oo-deen farr-ah)

Colm Feore (column fury)

Ferdydurke (fair-deh-dure-kuh)

Paul Feyerabend (fire-ah-bent)

Johann Gottlieb Fichte (feesh-tuh)3

Ralph/Ranulph/Sophie/Joseph/Magnus/Martha Fiennes (rayf finezzzzzzzzzzzzz)

Gustave Flaubert (flow-bear)

William Foege (fay-ghee)

Michel Foucault (~foo-coh)

Gottlob Frege (got-lobe free-geh)

James Frey (fry)


Gallaudet University (gal-uh-debt)

Clifford Geertz (gurtz)

Alberto Giacometti (Swiss pronunciation: yah-coh-mett-ee)2

André Gide (zheed)

Giotto (jhott-oh)

H.R. Giger (ghee-guh)

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (~ger-tuh)

Nikolai Gogol (goggle)

Witold Gombrowicz (vee-told gomm-broh-vitch)

Jan Gossaert (~yann ho-sight) aka ‘Mabuse’ (mah-buu-zuh)

Philip Gourevitch (guh-ray-vitch)

Antonio Gramsci (gromm-she)

Matt Groening (graining)

Alexander Grothendieck (groat-enn-deek)

David Guetta (gay-tah)


Vaclav Havel (vott-slav hah-vell)

Michael Haneke (hanukkah)

Margaret H’Doubler (dough-blur)

Seamus Heaney (shay-muss hee-knee)

Aleksandar Hemon (between heh-monn and heh-mown)

Zbigniew Herbert (z’beeg-nyeff herr-behrt)

John Hersey (hearse-ey)

Hesiod (he-see-uhd)

Hermann Hesse (~hair-monn heh-seh)

Guy Hocquenghem (ghee ock-en-g’yem)

homo sacer, Agamben concept (Italian pronunciation: oh-moh satch-air)

Houston Street, Manhattan (house-ton)

Joris-Karl Huysmans (zhour-ris karl weese-moss)4

Bohumil Hrabal (boh-who-meal h’rah-ball)

Alfred Hrdlička (German pronunciation: ~hairt-litch-kah)


Jean-Auguste-Dominique Ingres (angh)

Eugène Ionesco (Romanian pronunciation: ~yoh-ness-koh)

Luce Irigaray (loose ear-ee-garr-eh)


Roman Jakobson (jacob-son)

Jacques, Shakespeare character (jay-kwiss)

Erica Jong (zhong)

Seu Jorge (~sewe zhawzhe)1

Carl Jung (yoong)


Frigyes Karinthy (free-gesh car-inn-tee)

Keble College (keeble)

Kelis Rogers (kuh-leece)

Imre Kertész (imm-reh kare-tace)

John Maynard Keynes (kanes)

Omar Khayyam (high-yahm)

Krzysztof Kieślowski (krish-toff keesh-loff-skee)

Q'orianka/Xihuaru Kilcher (core-i-an-ka/see-wahr-oo)

Danilo Kiš (dann-eel-oh keesh)

Paul Klee (powell clay)

Stephen Cole Kleene (cleany)

Phil Klay (kligh)

Karl Ove Knausgård (Norwegian pronunciation: ~kahl oo-veh kuh-nauss-gahd)

Zoltán Kodály (zohwl-tahn koh-die)

Sarah Koenig (kay-nig)

Alexandre Kojève (koh-zhevv)

Tadeusz Konwicki (tah-de-yoosh konn-vitz-ski)

Jerzy Kosiński (yer-zhay koh-shin-ski)

Alexandre Koyré (kwah-ray)

Saul Kripke (crip-key)

Thomas Kuhn (coon)

Milan Kundera (Czech pronunciation: mill-ahn koon-der-uh)


Henri Lefebvre (luh-fevv-ruh)

Stanisław Lem (stan-ni-swaf lemm)

Jonathan Lethem (leeth-um)

Jared Leto (let -oh)

Primo Levi (leh-vee)

Marina Lewycka (leh-vitz-kah)

Mario Vargas Llosa (yoh-sah)

Peter Lorre (laura)

Jan Łukasiewicz (yann wu-kah-shey-vitch)


Magdalen College, Oxford/Cambridge (mawd-lin)

Mannes College of Music (mannis)

Quentin Matsys/Quinten Matsijs (Flemish pronunciation: kvinn-tin mott-sayse)

Somerset Maugham (mawm)

Kazimir Malevich (may-lay-vich)

Thomas Mann (toe-mahs mahn)

Don Marquis (mar-kwiss)

Olivier Messiaen (oh-leev-yay meh-syonh)

Czesław Miłosz (chess-waff me-woahsh)

Joan Miró (zhwamn me-roh)

László Moholy-Nagy (~lass-low moh-holy noidge-eh)

Robert Moog (mogue)

George Mosse (mossy)

Sławomir Mrożek (swah-voh-meer m’roh-zhek)

Ron Mueck (myoo-ick)

Harry Mulisch (mool-ish)

Edvard Munch (ed-vart moonk)

Robert Musil (moo-zeal/moo-seal)

Eadweard Muybridge (edward my-bridge)


Nacogdoches, Texas (nack-uh-dough-chis)

Natchitoches, Louisiana (nack-uh-tush)

Otto Neurath (noi-raht)

Bill Nighy (nye)

Anaïs Nin (ah-nayh-ees ninn)

Emmy Noether (neur-tuh)

Cees Nooteboom (sayze note-uh-bome)

Lupita Nyong'o (~nnnnn yong-oh)


Obergefell v. Hodges (oh-burr-geh-fell)

Máirtín Ó Cadhain (marr-teen oh kai-un)

Adepero Oduye (add-uh-pair-oh oh-doo-yay)

Jenny Offill (oh-full)

Claes Oldenburg (kloss)

Michael Ondaatje (awn-datch-ee)

The River Ouse (ooze)

David Oyelowo (oh-yell-uh-whoah)


Chuck Palahniuk (paul-uh-nik)

Wolfgang Pauli (pow-lee)

Charles Sanders Peirce (purse)

Samuel Pepys (peeps)

Jodi Picoult (pee-coe)

Max Planck (plonk)

Plotinus (ploh-tine-us)

Anthony Powell (po-uhl)

John Cowper Powys (cooper poh-iss)

Principia Mathematica (prin-kipp-ee-yah)

Annie Proulx (proo)

Marcel Proust (proost)

Joseph Pulitzer (puh-litz-ur)


Qatar (cutter/gutter)5

Quinnipiac University (kwinn-uh-pea-ack)


Ayn Rand (well-fare recipient)

Sławomir Rawicz (swah-voh-meer rahh-vitch)

Satyajit Ray (Bengali pronunciation: ~shut-uh-jeet rye)

Steve Reich (raish)

Tom Regan (ray-gun)

Rainer Maria Rilke (rhine-er mahr-ee-a reel-kuh)

Nicolas Roeg (rogue)

Theodore Roethke (ret-key)

Wilhelm Conrad Röntgen/Roentgen (vill-helm rhont-gn)

Klaus Roth (roath)

Mary Ruefle (roo-full)

Ed Ruscha (roo-shay)


Edward Said (sigh-eed)

Antoine de Saint-Exupéry (sanh-eks-oo-pear-ee)

Luc Sante (sahnt)

Leonardo Sciascia (shah-shah)

Schlumberger (slumber-zhay)

Bruno Schulz (schooltz)

Martin Scorsese (score-sess-ee)

Henry Scrope, Shakespeare character (scroop)

W.G. Sebald (zay-bald)

Chloë Sevigny (sevv-un-ee)

Choire Sicha (corey seeka)

Charles Simić (Serbian pronunciation: simm-itch, but often called simmick)

Victor Sjöström (Swedish pronunciation: veek-torr hhhwhere-strome)

Theda Skocpol (scotch-pole)

Josef Škvorecký (yoh-zeff shkvore-etz-ski)

William Smellie (smiley)

Todd Solondz (suh-lawnz)

Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn (saul-zhuh-neat-sin)

Léon Spilliaert (Dutch pronunciation: lay-on spilly-art)

Strange, barony (strang)

William Stukeley (stoo-key)

Wisława Szymborska (vee-swa-va shim-bor-ska)


Gay Talese (tuh-leeze)

Chief Justice Roger Taney (tawny)

Nahum Tate (neigh-m)

Tchoupitoulas Street, New Orleans (chop-uh-too-luss)

Wayne Thiebaud (tee-bo)

Uwe Timm (ooh-veh)

Tzvetan Todorov (tsveh-tahn toh-duh-roff)

Colm Tóibín (~column toh-been)

Ernst Troeltsch (trolch)

Edward Tufte (tuff-tee)

Tulane University (too-lane)

Ivan Turgenev (yvonne turr-gain-yevv)

George W. S. Trow (like ’grow’)


Michel Houllebecq (he doesn’t care)

Joos van Cleve (yohss fon clay-vuh)

Ludwig Mies van der Rohe (meez fonn der roh-uh)

Rogier van der Weyden (~ro-kheer fon dur vay-dun)

Arnoldus Vanderhorst, ultimate namesake of Luther (vandross)

Vincent van Gogh (Dutch pronunciation: ~finch-ant fan hawh)

Antonie van Leeuwenhoek (ahn-toe-nee fon lay-when-hook)

Rembrandt van Rijn (remm-brondt fon rain)

Ludvík Vaculík (lood-veek vatz-oo-leek)

Johannes Vermeer (yo-hann-iss furr-meer)

Jones Very (jonas veery)

Vladimir Voinovich (vlah-dee-meer voy-noh-vitch)

Ludwig von Mises (fonn meez-ess)

Georg Henrik von Wright (fon vrikt)


Ayelet Waldman (eye-yell-it)

Quvenzhané Wallis (kwuh-ven-zhuh-nay)

Robert Walser (valzer)

Evelyn St. John Waugh (eve-linn sin-jun wahh)

Max Weber (veigh-burr)

Simone Weil (zee-moan veigh)

Elie Wiesel (eel-ee vee-zell)

Ludwig Wittgenstein (vitt-genn-shtein)

Pelham Grenville Wodehouse (wood-house)

David Wojnarowicz (voy-nah-roh-vitch)

Hermann Wouk (woke)

Woyzeck, Büchner play (voight-zikk)

Joseph Wright of Derby (right of dahr-bee)


William Butler Yeats (yates)

Yerkes Observatory (yer-keys)

Yoknapatawpha County, Faulkner setting (yolk-nuh-pah-taw-fa)


Robert Zajonc (zai-unts)

Slavoj Žižek (slah-voi zhee-zhek)

Andrzej Żuławski (ahn-drey zhu-wavv-ski)

1 Portuguese has a much more complicated phonetics than English & so these are especially approximate.

2 Because Giacometti was from the Italian-speaking part of Switzerland a kind of second order snobbishness has descended on the pronunciation of his name. Most people who would judge you pronounce it as you would in Italian (jah-coh-mett-ee) but an inner-inner circle insist on correcting even these people with the Swiss-Italian pronunciation listed here.

3 The pronunciation of the -ch as soft instead of hard, unlike every other instance in German, was contrived after the philosopher’s death to avoid a near-homophony with that language’s word for ‘fuck.’

4 The last syllable doesn’t have an English equivalent but rhymes with the French pronunciation of Jean’s.

5 The first letter (qaf/qof/ق) has no equivalent in English or any other Western language and is more glottal than either of the sounds starting these approximations.

More? Better phonetic versions?

Incandescent +  Beyond Newton = Gay

I talked about how Eurus is Sherlock and Mycroft’s gay feelings in their childhood.  The question is: how intelligent/different/gay was she?  Incandescent.  Aka Flaming (Flaming Homosexual is a term for someone who is very easily perceived by others as gay, usually a term reserved for men).  (Notice that John asks if Eurus was smart, too, and he says, ‘enlighten me’, another light/fire reference).  And she was like Newton.  Now let’s ask ourselves if there’s reason to think he was gay?  hmmm…

“Personal relations
Although it was claimed that he was once engaged,[95] Newton never married. The French writer and philosopher Voltaire, who was in London at the time of Newton’s funeral, said that he “was never sensible to any passion, was not subject to the common frailties of mankind, nor had any commerce with women—a circumstance which was assured me by the physician and surgeon who attended him in his last moments”.[96] The widespread belief that he died a virgin has been commented on by writers such as mathematician Charles Hutton,[97] economist John Maynard Keynes,[98] and physicist Carl Sagan.[99]Newton did have a close friendship with the Swiss mathematician Nicolas Fatio de Duillier, whom he met in London around 1690.[100] Their intense relationship came to an abrupt and unexplained end in 1693, and at the same time Newton suffered a nervous breakdown.[101] Some of their correspondence has survived.[102][103]In September of that year, Newton had a breakdown which included sending wild accusatory letters to his friends Samuel Pepys and John Locke. His note to the latter included the charge that Locke “endeavoured to embroil me with woemen”.[104]”


So, yeah, why else describe Eurus as, ‘…incandescent…  an era-defining genius beyond Newton’?  She was basically, so very gay, she was flaming.  She was also gayer than Newton, who never slept with a woman and clearly had a relationship with a man whose breakup nearly destroyed him.  

So, if genius is code for gay then we can see that Eurus, as the Holmes brothers’ obvious gayness since their childhood, was very, very obvious.  They were incandescently gay.  Gayer than Newton, even.

PS yes, it was John Locke who was apparently  (very unpleasantly) trying to set Newton up with women.

PPS John Locke was gay, too, btw.  


Queens consort of England - Henrietta Maria of France

The daughter of Henry IV of France and his second wife, Marie de Medici, Henrietta Maria was born at the Palais du Louvre, on 25th November, 1609.

The child was of decidedly mixed European ancestry, her father, the good humoured and compassionate Henry IV, was the son of the French Antoine de Bourbon, Duc de Vendôme and Jeanne III, Queen of Navarre, who was half French and half Spanish. Henrietta Maria’s mother, Marie d’ Medici contributed both dark Italian and Austrian Habsburg characteristics to the gene pool of the French royal house, she was the daughter of Francesco I de’ Medici, Grand Duke of Tuscany and of Johanna, Archduchess of Austria, who was herself the granddaughter of Phillip I and Joanna ‘the Mad’ of Castille.

Henry IV and Marie de Medici produced six children of which Henrietta Maria was the youngest. Her siblings included King Louis XIII of France, Elisabeth, who became the consort of Phillip IV of Spain, Christine Marie, who became Duchess of Savoy, Nicholas Henri, Duke of Orléans and the wayward Gaston Jean-Baptiste, Duke of Orleans.

King Henry IV, although a popular King of France, was assassinated in Paris by a fanatic Catholic, before the infant Henrietta Maria was but a year old. Her mother was banished from the French court by her brother the new king in 1617. She was brought up a strict Roman Catholic and grew into a thin, adolescent with protruding teeth. A contemporary, Sophia of Hanover, the daughter of Elizabeth of Bohemia provides an unflattering description of Henrietta Maria as “a short woman perched on her chair, with long bony arms, irregular shoulders and teeth protruding from her mouth like a fence” but in a kinder vein, she added that she possessed “beautiful eyes, a well shaped nosed and an admirable complexion”.

With the aid of a special dispensation from the Pope, a marriage was arranged with the new English sovereign, King Charles I, Louis XIII consented to the match on the condition that some measure of toleration would be afforded to Roman Catholics in England. The couple were married by proxy on 11th May 1625. They were married in person at St. Augustine’s Church, Canterbury, Kent, on 13th June 1625. Henrietta was at the time 15 years old and Charles 24, the arch-Catholic Henrietta Maria was to prove an unpopular choice of bride amongst Charles’ Protestant subjects. The new Queen of England and Scotland was not crowned beside her husband at Westminster Abbey, since her rigid Catholicism would not allow her to swear the necessary Anglican oath required in the ceremony.

The relationship did not get off to a particularly good start, Charles found his wife frigid and when he eventually sent her accompanying expensive Roman Catholic retinue home to France, the Queen felt homesick and neglected. The attentions her husband were reserved for his favourite, the Duke of Buckingham and frequent arguments between the couple resulted. On the assassination of Buckingham in 1628, Charles transferred his affections to his wife, after which their relationship grew far stronger and they were to become devoted to each other.

The children of Charles IThe first child of the marriage, Charles James, Duke of Cornwall, was born prematurely and died the same day in March, 1629, but was replaced by a much larger and healthier brother, Charles, (the future Charles II) born on 29 May 1630. The Queen’s brother and mother, Louis XIII of France and Marie de Medici, stood as godparents to the new Prince of Wales. The couple were to eventually produce a large family of nine children.

The Queen did much to encourage her unpopularity amongst the country’s majority Protestant element by meddling in affairs of state. When rumours reached the King’s ears that Parliament intended to impeach his Queen, he was spurred into action. Led on by the outraged Queen, he went to the House of Commons on 4th January, 1642, to arrest the five members who were perceived to be the most troublesome on charges of high treason, to find on his arrival that they had been forewarned and had fled.

As Civil War with Parliament war became inevitable, the Queen did much to aid her husband’s cause and was active in seeking funds and support for the Royalist cause, she was on the continent at the outbreak of the war in 1642 but returned to England in early 1643. Landing at Bridlington in Yorkshire with men and arms, she established her base at York until meeting up with her husband at Oxford some months later.

The collapse of the Royalist cause led the Queen to flee to her native France in 1644, where she received a pension from the French court and lived with her youngest daughter Henrietta Anne . Following the end of the war, King Charles I was put on trial at Westminster Hall and executed at Whitehall in January, 1649. It is reported that on receipt of the ominous news, Henrietta Maria stood “deaf and insensible” for a whole hour’s duration, before regaining her senses. She was said to have never totally recovered from the shock of her husband’s execution and dressed in black mourning for him for the rest of her life.

The monarchy was then abolished and England became a republic. During their exile in France, a rift developed between Henrietta Maria and her eldest son, Charles, now head of the family, when she attempted to convert her youngest son, Henry, to Catholicism. Henry, however, remained steadfast in his Protestantism. She later helped with the upbringing of her grandson, James Crofts, Duke of Monmouth, Charles’ illegitimate son by Lucy Walters.

Following the Restoration, Henritta Maria returned to England, where she lived at Somerset House in London. Parliament granted the Dowager Queen £30,000 a year in compensation for the loss of her personal estates and Charles II paid an additional annuity from his own resources. She was at this time described by the diarist Samuel Pepys as “ A very little , plain old woman”. She was reported to be livid when her second son, James, Duke of York, married Anne Hyde, the daughter of Edward Hyde, Earl of Clarendon, Charles I’s Lord Chancellor, she considered her son had married far beneath him. She returned to France to be present at the wedding of her youngest daughter, Henriette Anne, who was married to her foppish first cousin, Phillip, Duke of Orleans, the brother of Louis XIV, which took place on March 31, 1661. Both parties to the marriage were grandchildren of Henry IV of France and Marie de’ Medici.

In 1665, in failing health, she returned permanently to France where she founded a convent at Chaillot. Henrietta Maria died on 10th September 1669 at Château de Colombes, and lies buried in the royal tombs at the Cathedral of Saint Denis near Paris. Her heart was interred separately at Chaillot in a silver casket.

Things that you think didn’t happen but did: 

A lady accidentally spat at Samuel Pepys at the playhouse and turned quickly to apologise because he was obviously kind of pissed but as soon as he saw she was very very pretty, he basically wanted her to spit on him again.

Barbara Palmer, 1st Duchess of Cleveland, Countess of Castlemaine, also known as Lady Castlemaine.

English courtesan from the Villiers family and perhaps the most notorious of the many mistresses of King Charles II of England, by whom she had five children. Her influence was so great that she has been referred to as “The Uncrowned Queen."  

Barbara was known for her dual nature. Her extravagance, foul temper and promiscuity provoked diarist John Evelyn into describing her as the "curse of the nation”, whereas diartist Samuel Pepys often noted seeing her, admiringly, and others described her as great fun, keeping a good table and with a heart to match her famous temper

Tall, voluptuous, with masses of brunette hair, slanting, heavy-lidded violet eyes, alabaster skin, and a sensuous, sulky mouth, Barbara was considered to be one of the most beautiful of the Royalist women

Lady Barbara took advantage of her influence over the King, using it to her own benefit. She would help herself to money from the Privy Purse and take bribes from the Spanish and the French. But there are accounts of exceptional kindness from Barbara; once, after a scaffold had fallen onto a crowd of people at the theater, she rushed to assist an injured child, and was the only court lady to have done so.



Another tag thingy

I was tagged yet again by @quizzikemen! :D But it’s fun so let’s get into it.

5 things you’ll find in my bag:

  • my tablet
  • a book (currently Samuel Pepys’ Journal or The Fellowship of the Ring)
  • hand sanitizer because I can’t stand the metro at Budapest
  • water
  • a notebook/sketchbook

5 things you’ll find in my bedroom:

  • nail polish (so much nail polish…)
  • books. books everywhere.
  • water
  • yoga mat

5 things I’ve always wanted to do in life:

  • make a videogame (which is actually will happen someday, because my boyfriend makes games for Android, and we might collab or something :D)
  • live in Italy (Florence or Rome is my dream)
  • publish a book
  • publish something in history or art history (the first is my major, the second my minor at uni, and I have ideas)
  • have a pottery workshop. because that’s actually my profession :D

5 things that make me happy:

  • my boyfriend :3
  • when he buys me vegetarian burger
  • digital art
  • videogames

5 things I’m currently into:

  • Dragon Age
  • painting Solas’ stupid face
  • crochet
  • Halestorm
  • yoga

5 things on my to-do list:

  • study
  • study
  • study
  • study
  • maybe five minutes in Kirkwall… just five minutes… *two hours later* OMG I HAVE TO STUDY

5 things people may not know about me:

  • I’m very stubborn, but I can see if I’m wrong
  • I write. Like, a lot.
  • I would spend all my money on art supplies
  • If I’m sleeping alone, I have to turn on a light for the whole night, because otherwise I can’t sleep
  • Before digital art, I couldn’t stand painting, I always used pencils at art school