first table, No. 1, the new Lord Mayor and his wife dined, the
Lord Chancellor, the two sheriffs, the Duke of Lids [Leeds], the
minister Pitt, and others of the highest rank in the Cabinet. I was
seated at No. 2 with Mr Sylvester, the most celebrated advocate and
first King's counsel in London. In this hall, called the Geld Hall
[Guildhall], were six tables, besides others in the adjoining room.
About twelve hundred persons altogether dined, and everything was
in the greatest splendour. The dishes were very nice and well
dressed. Wines of every kind in abundance. We sat down to dinner at
six o'clock and rose from table at eight. The guests accompanied
the Lord Mayor both before and after dinner in their order of
precedence. There were various ceremonies, sword bearing, and a
kind of golden crown, all attended by a band of wind instruments.
After dinner, the whole of the aristocratic guests of No. 1
withdrew into a private room prepared for them, to have tea and
coffee, while the rest of the company were conducted into another
room. At nine o'clock No. 1 repaired to a small saloon, when the
ball began. There was a raised platform in this room, reserved for
the highest nobility, where the Lord Mayor and his wife were seated
on a throne. Dancing then commenced in due order of precedence,
but only one couple at a time, just as on January 6, the King's
birthday. There were raised benches on both sides of this room
with four steps, where the fair sex chiefly prevailed. Nothing
but minuets were danced in this saloon, but I could only remain for
a quarter of an hour, first, because the heat of so many people
assembled in such a narrow space was so oppressive, and, secondly,
on account of the bad music for dancing, the whole orchestra
consisting of two violins and a violoncello; the minuets were more
in the Polish style than in our own, or that of the Italians.
I proceeded into another room, which really was more like a