'The Harmoniac is over, and, what is worse, they threaten hard to indict Mrs. Cornely's as a house of ill-fame, and say that forty beds are made and unmade every day, which is hard, for a friend of ours says it is never more than twenty. But, joking apart, if they choose to demolish Mrs. Cornely, all elegance and spectacle will end in this town; for she never yet had her equal in these things, and I believe got but little, as all she undertakes is clever to a degree.'

There is a wonderful want of logical sequence in these few lines; and as to whether the scandalous charge was true or false, Mrs. Harris apparently was as little in a position to judge as we are now. Mrs. Cornely was originally Mademoiselle Pompeiati, a singer. She hired Carlisle House, in Soho-square, and established balls and assemblies by subscription. This place of fashionable resort, however, as well as its mistress, quickly thereafter declined in reputation. In 1774, we find Mrs. Harris writing:—'I went to Carlysle House, which Bach has taken for his concerts; the furniture, like Mrs. Cornely, is much on the decline; but, in my opinion, the place is better for the concert than Almack's.' Bach soon left these rooms, and opened a place of his own, splendidly fitted up. But even he was not allowed to carry on his performances without opposition, although of a different kind from that which proved fatal to Mrs. Cornely. 'Lord Hillsborough, Sir James Porter, and some others (writes Mrs. Harris) have entered into a subscription to prosecute Bach for a nuisance, and I was told the jury had found a bill against him. One would scarce imagine his house could molest either of these men, for Bach's is at the corner of Hanover-street.'

Amateur theatrical performances were in those days in great vogue among the upper classes, and usually took place in the country residences of the nobility and gentry in the winter months—during the Parliamentary recess, when even members of the Ministry (notably Mr. Fox) took part in them. Winterslow House was the famous place for these amateur performances. The ordinary audience consisted of the servants of the house and the neighbouring townspeople, as well as a select circle of visitors, which on one occasion included the Duke and Duchess of Queensberry, the Duchess of Bedford, Lord and Lady Pembroke, Lady Charles and Lord Robert Spencer, Lord Dunkellin, Lady Louisa Fitzpatrick, &c. At the close of one of those performances at Winterslow House (in January, 1774), in which Mr. Fox and another member of his family acted, a lamentable accident occurred, which destroyed the greater part of the mansion. Mrs. Harris writes of it next day as follows:—

'We got home in whole bones [an allusion apparently to the bad roads] soon after one, and in high spirits; but our joy is now turned to sorrow, for this morning, at five, a fire broke out in the new building at Winterslow House, and entirely consumed that and also the old house, except the kitchen and laundry. Though the house was full of company, fortunately no life was lost. The fire was discovered by some Salisbury chairmen, who, for want of a bed, were deposited on a carpet under the great stairs; they alarmed the house, and probably, thereby, saved some lives. Lady Pembroke, Lady Mary Fox and her children, were carried to King's House; Miss Herbert, Mrs. Hodges, and the other ladies stayed in the laundry; all the gentlemen stood by. As they had no engines, and little or no water but violent rain, they in a manner gave up all hopes of the house; but their object was to save the furniture, in which they have succeeded, though 'tis greatly damaged by dirt and rain. 'Tis thought, but not certain, that the fire was owing to some timber near a chimney in the new building. I think of the contrast: we left that house this morning between twelve and one, all mirth and jollity, and by seven it was consumed; it really hurts me when I think how many agreeable days I have spent in those rooms.

'Some say that, during the flames, Stephen and Charles Fox and Fitzpatrick got to a proper distance, and laid bets as to which beam would fall in first. The friends of the house, who resort to Almack's and White's, say they are sorry they were not at Winterslow that night, as "they might have had an opportunity of seeing the family in a new light. I could mention profane things uttered at the very time, but they are too bad."

Amateur dramatic and operatic performances were a frequent amusement at Mr. Harris's house in Salisbury. Miss Gertrude, the elder daughter, was an adept in such performances, and, moreover, retained this taste throughout the whole of her long life. This lady afterwards became the wife of Mr. Robinson, younger son of Lord Grantham. She lived, in the London world, to the age of eighty-five, preserving to the last her faculties and cheerful character. She used to give private theatricals at her house, in which Lord de Grey, Mr. F. Robinson, Hugh Elliott, and Canning were the chief actors—Canning writing the prologues and epilogues, which are still extant. In the letters we find frequent allusions to the performances in Mr. Harris's family residence; but we shall content ourselves with mentioning one of them, which aroused the satirical ire of some provincial Juvenal, whose poetic outburst serves to show the great, indeed too great, change between the notions on such subjects then and now. Mrs. Harris, in a letter to her son, thus alludes to a rehearsal of the piece, which a few days afterwards was performed, as usual, to an audience of the townsfolk and the visitors at the house:—

'I have but little to send from hence; we are so totally taken up with our own theatrical business that nothing else is thought of. The ladies acted last night in their dresses to all their servants, and a most crowded house they had. Although I was not admitted to the performance, I saw all the ladies. Their dresses are fine and elegant. Miss Townshend makes an excellent Spanish ambassador, a fine figure and richly dressed; she had a prodigious long sword, and not being accustomed to wear one, she contrived, as she walked, to run it up through a scene, and damaged it greatly. Louisa has taken a sword you left her [here?], and manages it right well. She is very fine in a purple Spanish dress, all the buttons Irish diamonds, a handsome button and loop to her hat, and your King of Spain's picture hanging from her neck. The Queen, Miss Hussey, was dressed in blue and silver, with a number of diamonds; Miss Wyndham, who is Elvira, in white, trimmed with pearls; Gertrude, the Princess, in a black Spanish dress, trimmed with red and silver, and a great quantity of diamonds; it becomes her much.

'Lord Pembroke [the tenth Earl] sent a note to your father, which was as follows:—"I can snuff candles, I can scrape on the violoncello; if either of these sciences will entitle me to a place in your theatre, I will perform gratis. P.S. My wife says she can thrum the harpsichord or viol-de-gamba."

'We have sent them and the Amesbury House tickets for Saturday. Everybody is making interest to get in. The ladies mean to perform five times, so I hope everybody will see it.'