‘Billiards were indispensable, but something more was wanted. Without a theatre, life was felt to be unendurable. But how was a theatre to be secured? There was nothing of the kind in the place. The more eager of the visitors managed to get out of the difficulty. There was an old and disused ball-room. It was rather of confined dimensions, and low in the roof, with a gallery at one end, over the entrance, for the musicians.... Walter Scott’s mother, when a girl, (I was told,) had crossed Minchmoor, a dangerously high hill, in a chaise, from the adjacent country, to dance for a night in that little old ball-room. Now set aside as unfashionable, the room was at anybody’s service, and came quite handily for the Frenchmen. They fitted it up with a stage at the inner end, and cross benches to accommodate 120 persons, independently of perhaps 20 more in the musicians’ gallery. The thing was neatly got up with scenery painted by M. Walther and M. Ragulski, the latter a young Pole. No licence was required for the theatre, for it was altogether a private undertaking. Money was not taken at the door, and no tickets were sold. Admission was gained by complimentary billets distributed chiefly among persons with whom the actors had established an intimacy. ‘Among these favoured individuals was my father, who, carrying on a mercantile concern, occupied a prominent position. He felt a degree of compassion for these foreigners, constrained to live in exile, and, besides welcoming them to his house, gave them credit in articles of drapery of which they stood in need; and through which circumstance they soon assumed an improved appearance in costume. Introduced to the family circle, their society was agreeable, and in a sense instructive. Though with imperfect speech, a sort of half-English, half-French, they related interesting circumstances in their careers.