This order could not have been obeyed by the _petits maîtres_ among the officers. Perhaps they were exceptional, the Sybarites, whose tents were little palaces――tapestried and carpeted. Their gorgeously curtained beds were covered with heavily laced counterpanes. The military _petit maître_ in the Park rose at ten, took his tea, and received friends in his dressing-gown till eleven. Then he slowly, languidly, yet elaborately, adorned himself, and when the world was sufficiently well aired for his Prettiness to appear in it, he issued from his retreat, a plumed, powdered, periwigged Adonis――a sword on his thigh, dice in his pocket, a gold-headed cane attached to one of his buttons, and a snuff-box, from which his diamonded finger, ever and anon, gave dust to the nose. The officers gave splendid entertainments to ladies from Court and ladies from the City. Of these, some took tea, some preferred ratifia. It was the humour of the belles to conform as nearly as they could to military fashions, by wearing red cloaks. These ladies in camp were severely satirised in a pungent pamphlet called ‘Whipping Tom, or a rod for a proud lady, bundled up in four feeling discourses, both serious and merry. First, of the foppish mode of taking snuff. Second, of the expensive use of drinking tea. Third, of their ridiculous walking in red cloaks, like soldiers. Fourth, of their immodest wearing of hoop-petticoats. To which is added a new satire for the use of the Female Volunteers in Hyde Park.’ [Sidenote: _A CAVALRY BISHOP._] But for military fashion the ladies had an example in no less a person than the Bishop of Durham. That prelate was the nearly nonagenarian Nathaniel, Lord Crew, the first bishop of noble birth since the Reformation. At one of the reviews by the king――gallant spectacle, when peers and commoners, and illustrious foreigners, gathered round the sovereign, and ‘the Right Honourable Robert Walpole, the famous Minister,’ was coming among them, with bevies of semi-military ladies to soften the scene――the noble old bishop nobly caracolled in the presence, on a well-trained war-horse, which the right reverend father in God bestrode in a lay habit of purple, jack-boots, his hat cocked, and his black wig tied up behind in true military fashion. The ladies adored the old bishop; they perhaps had some awe of a man who as a boy had ridden his pony in the park in the days of Charles I. The amazons having seen him ride away, and gazed at the spectacle of the procession of royalty, from its position near the walnut trees, to the magnificent banqueting pavilion, they prepared for the dance, and, oblivious of politics, ended the day in camp to the stimulating music of the fiddles. One of the disciplinary regulations seemed harsh to the gayer lads in arms, namely, the prohibition to ‘lie out of their tents at night,’ but as the ladies remained late to dance, there was not much to complain of. [Sidenote: _THE LADIES IN CAMP._]