We passed our time very agreeably; both Nugent and his wife are very good-humoured, and easy in their house to a degree.  There was nobody else but the Marquis of Tweedale; his new Marchioness,(1451) who is infinitely good-humoured and good company, and sang a thousand French songs mighty prettily; a sister of Nugent’s, who does not figure; and a Mrs. Elliot,(1452) sister to Mrs. Nugent, who crossed over and figured in with Nugent:  I mean she has turned Catholic, as he has Protestant.  She has built herself a very pretty small house in the path-, and is only a daily visiter.  Nugent was extremely communicative of his own labours; repeated us an ode of ten thousand stanzas to abuse Messieurs de la Gallerie, and reid me a whole tragedy, which has really a great many @ pretty things in it; not indeed equal to his glorious ode on religion and liberty, but with many of those absurdities which are so blended with his parts.  We were overturned coming back, but, thank YOU, we were not it all hurt, and have been to-day to see a large house and a pretty park, belonging to a Mr. Williams; it is to be sold.  You have seen in the papers that Dr. Bloxholme is dead.  He cut his throat.  He always was nervous and vapoured; and so good-natured, that he left off his practice from not being able to bear seeing so many melancholy objects.  I remember him with as much wit as ever I knew; there was a pretty correspondence of Latin odes that passed between him and Hodges.

You will be diverted to hear that the Duchess of Newcastle was received at Calais by Locheil’s regiment under arms, who did duty himself while she stayed.  The Duke of Grafton is going to Scarborough; don’t you love that endless back-stairs policy? and at his time of life!  This fit of ill health is arrived on the Prince’s going to shoot for a fortnight at Thetford, and his grace is afraid of not being civil enough or too civil.

Since I wrote my letter I have been fishing in Rapin for any Particulars relating to the Veres, and have already found that Robert de Vere,(1453) the great Duke of Ireland, and favourite of Richard the Second, is buried at Earl’s COlnE, and probably under one of the tombs I saw there; I long to be certain that the lady with the strange coiffure is Lancerona, the joiner’s daughter, that he married after divorcing a princess of the blood for her.  I have found, too, that King Stephen’s Queen died at Henningham, a castle belonging to Alberic de Vere:,(1454) in short, I am just now Vere mad, and extremely mortified to have Lancerona and lady Vere Beauclerk’s, Portuguese grandmother blended with this brave old blood.  Adieu!  I go to town the day after to-morrow, and immediately from thence to Strawberry Hill.  Yours ever.