The house was all arbours and bowers, but rather more approaching to Calcutta, where so many English were stewed to death; for as the Queen would not dis-Maid of Honour herself of Miss Vernon till after the Oratorio, the ball-room was not opened till she arrived, and we were penned together in the little hall till we could not breathe.  The quadrilles were very pretty:  Mrs. Darner, Lady Sefton, Lady Melbourne, and the Princess Czartoriski in blue satin, with blond and collets montes a la reine Elizabeth; Lord Robert Spencer, Mr. Fitzpatrick, Lord Carlisle, and I forget whom, in like dresses with red sashes, derouge, black hats with diamond loops and a few feathers before, began; then the Henri Quatres and Quatresses, who were Lady Craven, Miss Minching, the two Misses Vernons, Mr. Storer, Mr. Hanger, the Duc de Lauzun, and George Damer, all in white, the men with black hats and white feathers napping behind, danced another quadrille, and then both quadrilles joined; after which Mrs. Hobart, all in gauze and spangles, like a spangle-pudding, a Miss I forget, Lord Edward Bentinck, and a Mr. Corbet, danced a pas-de-quatre, in which Mrs. Hobart indeed performed admirably.

The fine Mrs. Matthews in white, trimmed down all the neck and petticoat with scarlet cock’s feathers, appeared like a new macaw brought from Otaheite; but of all the pretty creatures next to the Carrara (who was not there) was Mrs. Bunbury; so that with her I was in love till one o’clock, and then came home to bed.  The Duchess of Queensberry had a round gown of rose-colour, with a man’s cape, which, with the stomacher and sleeves, was all trimmed with mother-of-pearl earrings.  This Pindaric gown was a sudden thought to surprise the Duke, with whom she had dined in another dress.  Did you ever see so good a joke?...

Lord Chesterfield was dead before my last letter that foretold his death set out.  Alas!  I shall have no more of his lively sayings, Madam, to send you.  Oh yes!  I have his last:  being told of the quarrel in Spitalfields, and even that Mrs. F[itzroy] struck Miss P[oole], he said, I always thought Mrs. F. a striking beauty.’

Thus, having given away all his wit to the last farthing, he has left nothing but some poor witticisms in his will, tying up his heir by forfeitures and jokes from going to Newmarket.

I wrote this letter at Strawberry, and find nothing new in town to add but a cold north-east that has brought back all our fires and furs.  Pray tell me a little of your Ladyship’s futurity, and whether you will deign to pass through London.

TO THE REV.  WILLIAM COLE

Antiquaries and authors

Arlington Street, 27 April, 1773.