Thursday 8^th October 1868

The annual distribution of clothing by the benevolent lady founder of this Club, took place on Wednesday week in the beautiful room built for the purpose by her ladyship. As usual, it was tastefully decorated. At the upper end was the address presented to her ladyship by the member of the Club on her return to this country from India, sundry pictures on the walls – views of the Shell Coves here, and Harvest Scenes from real Morte fields, the figures in which were all known to the “natives,” and trimmed round with ripe bright corn; grey flags, banners and mottoes were in profusion.

About mid-day happy faced groups were seen wending their way to Woolacombe: arrived in the club room, we see shopping, gossiping, tea, cake, bread and butter operations carried on harmoniously together. In the clothing department was a sight to do one good: Lady Chichester busy admist grey calico and woollen comforters, scarves etc. No light thing to listen to the various wants and requirements of more than sixty people, and to supply them , too. A variety of articles made by her ladyships own hands were quickly caught up; not so much, it struck one, because they were made as they were made by “the lady’s” fingers. Business which lasted till dark was at length suspended; and the Ball commenced in good earnest. By this time husbands, families and children had arrived and a few of Sir Bruce’s tenantry. Dancing was kept up with great spirit throughout, to the concord of sweet sounds. The performance of the evening was a Highland reel perpetrated by the celebrated Mrs. Polly Watts and others unknown to fame. Talk about “Sport that wrinkled Care dreides!” If old “Care” himself could have come into that room for five minutes, he would have walk about the world fresh and blooming and unwrinkled ever afterwards. The people seemed to remember the words of one of the mottoes “Be merry: Be wise.” Somebody remarked to a staid matron of the Club, “ You are as merry as a girl.” She replied, “And why shouldn’t I; it’s the only bit of pleasure I get from one year’s end to the other.” By and bye, the streaming punch bowl was introduced and the toast of the evening was proposed with enthusiasm, “The health of Lady Chichester,” 

We cannot do better than close our report by endorsing the words of one of their own mottoes, “Long live Lady Chichester, the friend of the poor; God bless her.”