In Pepys' celebrated 'Diary' there is a description of a bull-baiting to which he seems to have gone to divert his mind from the furious letter which a friend told him was on his way to him from Lord Peterborough, which letter seems to have preyed upon him more than the news recorded on a previous page of three people in one house "dead of the plague." The bull-baiting, however, was pronounced, even by the sight-loving Samuel Pepys, as a "very rude and very nasty pleasure." Yet, more than a century and a half later, we find the usually quiet and peaceful city of Wells all agog to witness the bull-baiting in the market square. It was as Lord Maythorne said; every window was engaged, and the tradespeople commanded high prices for the day. Ladies in smart dresses, with gentlemen in attendance, were to be seen sitting at the old lattice bay windows, all along the line of houses in the square. Lord Maythorne had engaged places over the principal draper's shop, where Joyce and Charlotte had made their purchases, on the day of Gilbert Arundel's arrival at Fair Acres. It was with some difficulty that Lord Maythorne and Gratian made their way through the turnstile by Penniless Porch, and gained the door of the shop to the left, which was kept guarded by a stalwart son of the owner. It was a good position, and if a bull-baiting were worth seeing, perhaps on the principle of comparative value, the place was worth the five guineas which Lord Maythorne had paid for it. His style and title being known, great respect was shown him and Gratian, and the circular bay window was appropriated to them, while less distinguished people thought themselves honoured to take their position behind them, further back in the room. The space where the bull was baited was railed off, and the kennels for the dogs prepared behind it. It was some time before the bull could be got into position, and he showed at first no signs of fight. Presently Gratian exclaimed: "There is little Mr. Dacres elbowing through the crowd; I knew he was dying to come. Now he has said his prayers, I suppose he thinks he is free to do so. And do look at that little woman in the yellow hood, pushing and fighting to get a place on the window-sill of the house by Penniless Porch. What a crowd! Who could have believed so many people lived in Wells? There is seldom a creature to be seen. When we drove through the market-place the other day there was only an old woman by the 'Cross,' selling potatoes."