Well, that's a few hours of my life I shall never get back. An unbelievable farrago, so badly researched that I found myself actually looking up things I knew were wrong just in case I was mistaken after all. The story itself is trivial - one potentially interesting idea, the debasement of the currency, is very lightly touched on at the end, and all the witchery seems to be abandoned without us ever knowing any more about it. This may well be because there are more books to come. The 'secret scene' doesn't help much, and its Pinterest link doesn't work.
The characters are inconsistently drawn, with no particular effort to pull together motives and habits from their past into a coherent whole, and no development in our knowledge of them or theirs of themselves. Charlie just about stands up, I suppose (though his occasionally selflessly tender heart isn't credibly embedded into his Artful Dodger background). But Maria is a cipher and the relationship between them is embarrassing. As for the other characters, Thomas and Teresa give absolutely no insight into why they behave as they do (it's really not enough to hint at post traumatic stress disorder), and the glimpses of others, royal or common, are cartoonish.
But it's the history that really makes me cringe. Where shall I start? Tower Bridge or Regent Street?
Her idea of 17thC London is bananas, not to put too fine a point on it. Actually, her idea of London at any period is bonkers, and I am stunned to find that she is apparently English and a journalist, which would suggest that she should know London. She has clearly no idea at all what the City of London actually is, or was. It is a discrete authority with very precise boundaries, and is presided over by the Lord Mayor of London (not 'Mayor Lawrence', he was no Boris, but always Lord Mayor, or Sir John). Westminster is another discrete city, a Royal one, no Mayor here. The wards and parishes between the two and out towards the suburbs were all under varying jurisdictions. The autor continually confuses all of these.
The two major journeys that Charlie and Maria take are nonsensical - from Covent Garden, where the tavern is supposed to be, to Holborn, where I think Maria is supposed to live though there is some confusion, could not have included Cockspur Street (which is the other side of St Martin in the Fields). They might have gone via Cock Lane, but how could an author do that and simply witter on about Charterhouse when the reeking mess of Smithfield and the ancient priory of St Bartholomew are right in your way? And what Londoner, nay, what intelligent human being with access to Google Maps, could put Wapping several hours ride from Stratford? Or FOUR HOURS downstream from the Tower? And C Quinn has worked at The Times?
Here are a few really terrible howlers of the dozens I've bookmarked. Life is too short to mention them all:
Foundling Hospital (p. 19).
There was no Foundling Hospital in pre-Fire London. There were two City Orphanages and they weren't run by nuns.
+++++
Why do you not eat the biscuits straightaway ? The crown stamped on them shows your crime. (p. 26)
Ships biscuit was not marked for the Navy until Victorian times. Nor was there a regular supply to the Navy until Pepys started to reorganise it. Nor, in fact, were there naval uniforms as such at the time. All that navy *blue* and gold braid came later.
+++++
A set of new guards had been posted on Shaftesbury Circus. Plague security was certainly stepping up, thought Charlie. (p. 27)
Shaftesbury Circus did not and does not exist. Shaftesbury (of Shaftesbury Avenue) lived in the 19thC. The place I think she means would have been deep in the slum of St Giles in the Fields, oddly enough where the first Plague cases were identified in 1665. Somewhere to avoid, erm, like the plague.
++++
The King’s mistress Louise Keroulle was walking across the room.(p. 61)
The author doesn't even spell her name correctly. Louise de Keroualle was not the King's Mistress until after 1670. She had no brother George. and was made Duchess of Portsmouth in 1673.
++++
Ordinarily the smuggler brought in tobacco, wine, lace and silk to avoid paying duty at Tower Bridge. (p. 67)
This is ridiculous. Tower Bridge was built in the late 19thC.
+++++
The whole Mother Mitchell storyline is bizarre - she lives apparently in Mayfair, which was quite literally an open field in 1665, with a small market called Shepherds Market. The development of townhouses in Mayfair came in the 1680's. Later she is supposed to live in Regent Street, which is not Mayfair, is of course named after the Prince Regent, and was laid out in 1825.
+++++
Marc-Anthony appears to be able to transport a sedan-chair single-handed (did she think it was a kind of rickshaw?) and takes Charlie to a bear-baiting. Bear baiting was actually suppressed during the Plague but in any case the bear-gardens were on the South Bank. Later on they talk of Regents Park, which again was named for the Prince Regent and was much later.(p. 74)
Marc-Anthony also has
... a cottage in the little hamlet of Greenwich . He commuted once a week into the City by rowboat through the marshlands at Deptford Creek.(p. 68)
This is also bizarre. Greenwich harboured a Royal Palace and is quite a grand little place. Deptford was and is marshy, but was also the home of enormous Royal Dockyards. It's perhaps an hour's rowing upriver to the Tower (past Wapping, by the way). Why would a boatman commute once a week such a short distance?
+++++
‘The actress Lynette? She is your wife?’ ‘Was my wife.’ ‘But she is known all over the city.’(p. 191)
This is also just silly. The names of the (very few) actresses performing in the 1660's are very well known and there is neither any Lynette nor would anyone have spoken of her like that. She would have been 'Mistress Tuesday' or whatever her own name was.
+++++
the chill of Cripplegate (p. 386)
The whole Fenchurch/Aldersgate/Cripplegate mess only tells me again that the author never looked at a map.
+++++
Oh yes. Buboils. Buboils? Since when? *Buboes* is and was the name for the swellings. Interestingly, there's not a single hit on Google for this idiotic word buboils.
What was the editor thinking of when he or she passed this book fit for publication? I checked all these points in half-an-hour on Wikipedia, hardly a PhD research project. I can't think that C S Quinn has ever done any research at all, let alone historical.