Drove over to Fingringhoe this morning with the little grey pony, and went down to the gravel pits at the Wick [to look for archaeological material]. Coming back by Jaggers Farmhouse, I met Mrs. Furneaux and Mr. Gooch from Wivenhoe Park. She is rather keen to buy the pony for young Lennox, and I should like her to have it.
Tonight I made a thorough inspection of the Castle, and I find that there is not one drop of water on the roof, and only two buckets of sand. The hose pipe, which was fitted months ago after I had agitated for a year, does not work. I reported all this to Poulter this evening, but he still takes the view that Hull and Hull alone is responsible, and that he will not interfere with Castle affairs.