In the morning wrote out one window tax book. About 9 o’clock Mr French called me to go to Laughton with him in order to see a funeral there; to wit, the Hon Lady Frances, dowager of Castlecomer, sister to his Grace the Duke of Newcastle, and accordingly we went.
She was brought to Halland about 11 o’clock, but not taken out of the hearse, and was interred in their family vault at Laughton about 1:30, and in the 69th year of her age. The pall was supported by the Hon Col Pelham, Sir Francis Poole, — Campion Esq, T. Pelham Esq., John Pelham Esq. and Henry Pelham Esq. The funeral service was read by the Bishop of Chichester. There were two mourning coaches, Mr Pelham’s and Col Pelham’s and the bishop’s, but not so great a number of people as might have imagined.
We called at the keeper’s as we went and also went into Markwick’s at the Pound both before and after the funeral. For Mr French is that man who would willingly never be without a dram of gin in his hand. Oh, that mankind should be so abiggated to that baneful liquor, a liquor more sure to kill than even a cannon ball. We called at T. Jones’s as we came home, but, however, I got home about 6 o’clock, and sober.
After I came home, I dined on what my family left; to wit, a cold eel pie and batter pudding and cold bacon (but that I ate none of). Afterwards I finished writing out the land and window tax books. In the evening Mr Elless and I walked up to John Vine the younger’s to borrow his little horse to ride to the [Tunbridge] Wells upon, but he was not at home, which was a good excuse for not lending me it. I spent 6d, and James Marchant came home with us from Laughton.