To-day was a drawing-room:  every body was presented to her; but she spoke to nobody, as she could not know a soul.  The crowd was much less than at a birthday, the magnificence very little more.  The King looked very handsome, and talked to her continually with great good-humour.- It does not promise as if they two would be the two most unhappy persons in England, from this event.  The bridemaids, especially Lady Caroline Russel, Lady Sarah Lenox, and Lady Elizabeth Keppel, were beautiful figures.  With neither features nor air, Lady Sarah was by far the chief angel.  The Duchess of Hamilton was almost in possession of her former beauty today:  and your other Duchess, your daughter, was much better dressed than ever I saw her.  Except a pretty Lady Sutherland, and a most perfect beauty, an Irish Miss Smith,(183) I don’t think the Queen saw much else to discourage her:  my niece,(184) Lady Kildare, Mrs. Fitzroy, were none of them there.  There is a ball to-night, and two more drawing-rooms; but I have done with them.  The Duchess of Queensbury and Lady Westmoreland were in the procession, and did credit to the ancient nobility.

You don’t presume to suppose, I hope, that we are thinking of you, and wars, and misfortunes, and distresses, in these festival times.  Mr. Pitt himself Would be mobbed if he talked of any thing but clothes, and diamonds, and bridemaids.  Oh! yes, we have wars, civil wars; there is a campaign opened in the bedchamber.  Every body is excluded but the ministers; even the lords of the bedchamber, cabinet counsellors, and foreign ministers:  but it has given such offence that I don’t know whether Lord Huntingdon must not be the scapegoat.  Adieu!  I am going to transcribe most of this letter to your Countess.

(183) Afterwards married to Lord Llandaff.

(184) The Countess of Waldegrave.

Letter 92 To George Montagu, Esq.  Arlington Street, Sept. 24, 1761. (page 145)

I am glad you arrived safe in Dublin, and hitherto like it so well; but your trial is not begun yet.  When your King comes;, the ploughshares will be put into the fire.  Bless your stars that your King is not to be married or crowned.  All the vines of Bordeaux, and all the fumes of Irish brains cannot make a town so drunk as a regal wedding and coronation.  I am going to let London cool, and will not venture into it again this fortnight.  O! the buzz, the prattle, the crowds, the noise, the hurry!  Nay, people are so little come to their senses, that though the coronation was but the day before yesterday, the Duke of Devonshire had forty messages yesterday, desiring tickets for a ball, that they fancied was to be at court last night.  People had sat up a night and a day, and yet wanted to see a dance.  If I was to entitle ages, I would call this the century of crowds.  For the coronation, if a puppet-show could be worth a million, that is.  The multitudes,