Final rupture between the Prince and Mrs. Fitzherbert--That lady
and William IV.--Her kindly relations with the Royal Family--Her
death--The King's illness--The Regency--Visitors at the
Pavilion--Queen Charlotte there--The 'Royal Rantipoles.'
The episode of Miss Seymour indirectly led to the final separation of
the Prince and Mrs. Fitzherbert, which was mainly brought about by
her false friend, Lady Hertford. Lord Stourton, speaking of the Mary
Seymour incident, says:
'This long negotiation, in which the Prince was the principal
instrument, led him, at last, to those confidential relations which,
ultimately, gave to Lady Hertford, an ascendancy over him, superior
to that possessed by Mrs. Fitzherbert herself; and, from a friend,
converted her into a successful rival. Lady Hertford, anxious for
the preservation of her own reputation, which she was not willing to
compromise with the public, even when she ruled the Prince with the
most absolute sway, exposed Mrs. Fitzherbert, at this time, to very
severe trials, which, at last, almost, as she said, ruined her health
and destroyed her nerves. Attentions were required from her towards
Lady Hertford herself, even when most aware of her superior influence
over the Prince, and these attentions were extorted by the menace of
taking away her child. To diminish her apparent influence in public, as
well as in private, was now the object. When at Brighton, the Prince,
who had passed part of his mornings with Mrs. Fitzherbert on friendly
terms at her own house, did not even notice her in the slightest manner
at the Pavilion on the same evenings, and she, afterwards, understood
that such attentions would have been reported to her rival.
'She was frequently on the point of that separation which afterwards
took place, but was prevented by the influence of the Royal Family from
carrying her resolution into effect. A dinner, however, given to Louis
XVIII.[77] brought matters, at last, to a conclusion; and, satisfied
of a systematic intention to degrade her before the public, she then,
at last, attained the reluctant assent of some of the members of the
Royal Family, to her determination of finally closing her connection
with the Prince, to whom, in furtherance of this decision, she never,
afterwards, opened the doors of her house. Upon all former occasions,
to avoid etiquette in circumstances of such delicacy as regarded her
own situation with reference to the Prince, it had been customary to
sit at table, without regard to rank. Upon the present occasion, this
plan was to be altered, and Mrs. Fitzherbert was informed, through her
friends at Court, that, at the Royal table, the individuals invited
were to sit according to their rank.
'When assured of this novel arrangement, she asked the Prince, who had
invited her with the rest of his company, where she was to sit. He
said, "You know, Madam, you have no place." "None, Sir," she replied,
"but such as you choose to give me." Upon this, she informed the Royal
Family that she would not go. The Duke of York, and others, endeavoured
to alter the preconcerted arrangement, but the Prince was inflexible;
and, aware of the peculiar circumstances of her case, and the
distressing nature of her general situation, they no longer hesitated
to agree with her, that no advantage was to be obtained by further
postponement of her own anxious desire to close her connection with the
Prince, and to retire once more into private life. She told me, she
often looked back with wonder that she had not sunk under the trials of
those two years.
'Having come to this resolution, she was obliged, on the very evening,
or on that which followed the Royal dinner, to attend an assembly
at Devonshire House, which was the last evening she saw the Prince
previously to their final separation. The Duchess of Devonshire, taking
her by the arm, said to her, "You must come and see the Duke in his own
room, as he is suffering from a fit of the gout, but he will be glad to
see an old friend." In passing through the rooms, she saw the Prince
and Lady Hertford in a _tête-à-tête_ conversation, and nearly fainted
under all the impressions which then rushed upon her mind; but, taking
a glass of water, she recovered, and passed on.[78]
'Thus terminated this fatal, ill-starred connection, so unfortunate,
probably, for both the parties concerned. Satisfied as I was with the
very full explanation of all the circumstances, and of the propriety,
and almost necessity of the course which Mrs. Fitzherbert was compelled
to pursue, I yet felt, that her intimate relations with the Prince
might have imposed upon her some duties during his last illness, the
non-fulfilment of which would have left my mind not fully satisfied.
I, therefore, again availed myself of the confidence which had been so
repeatedly urged upon me, to inquire of her, whether any communication
had taken place previous to his demise. She told me "Yes," and that
she would show me the copy of a letter which she had written to the
King, a very short time before his death, which, she said, had been
safely delivered by a friendly hand; the person assuring her, that the
King had seized it with eagerness, and placed it immediately under his
pillow; but, that she had not received any answer. She was, however,
informed that, on the few last days of his life, he was very anxious to
be removed to Windsor Cottage.
'"Nothing," she said, "had so cut her up," to use her own expression,
as not having received one word in reply to that last letter. It
is true, she observed, that she had been informed by the Duke of
Wellington, that he, more than once, expressed his anxiety that a
particular picture should be hung round his neck, and deposited with
him in the grave; and it seemed to be the opinion of his Grace, that
this portrait was one which had been taken of her in early life, and
was set round with brilliants. It appeared the more likely, as this
portrait was afterwards missing when the others were returned to her.
The copy of the letter, which, in answer to my question, she went
into her bedroom to fetch, she put into my hands to read. It was an
expression of her fears that the King was very ill, and an affecting
tender of any services she could render him, in a strain which I could
not read without sympathising deeply in her distress.
'Soon after his death, she left town for Brighton. There, she, a second
time, received the kindest messages from William the Fourth; but, upon
his inquiry, why she did not come to see him, she stated the peculiar
difficulties of her situation, and a wish, if it was not asking too
much from his condescension, that he would graciously honour her with a
personal communication at her own house, previously to her visit to the
Pavilion.
'The King complied with her request, without delay, and she told him
that she could not, in her present circumstances, avail herself of the
honour of waiting upon his Majesty, without asking his permission to
place her papers before him, and requesting his advice upon them. Upon
her placing in his hands the Documents which have been preserved, in
justification of her character, and, especially, the certificate of
her marriage, and another, and most interesting paper, this amiable
Sovereign was moved to tears by their perusal, and expressed his
surprise at so much forbearance with such Documents in her possession,
and under pressure of such long and severe trials. He asked her what
amends he could make her, and offered to make her a Duchess. She
replied, that she did not wish for any rank; that she had borne through
life the name of Mrs. Fitzherbert; that she had never disgraced it, and
did not wish to change it; that, therefore, she hoped his Majesty would
accept her unfeigned gratitude for his gracious proposal, but that he
would permit her to retain her present name.
'"Well, then," said he, "I shall insist upon your wearing my livery,"
and ended by authorising her to put on weeds for his Royal brother. He
added, "I must, however, soon see you at the Pavilion"; and, I believe,
he proposed the following Sunday, a day on which his family were more
retired, for seeing her at dinner, and spending the evening at the
Pavilion. "I shall introduce you myself to my family," said he, "but
you must send me word of your arrival."
'At the appointed hour, upon her reaching the Pavilion, the
condescending monarch came himself and handed her out of her carriage,
and introduced her to his family, one after the other, as one of
themselves. He, ever after, treated her in the same gracious manner,
and, on one occasion, upon her return from Paris, made her a present of
some jewels, which he said he had had some time, but would not send
them to her abroad, as he wished to give them to her himself, on her
return to England. He afterwards entered into conversation on matters
relating to her dearest interests, and to sanction the custody of such
papers as were thought most available in support of her honour and fair
reputation with posterity.
'Mrs. Fitzherbert told me that, the first day, when, in compliance
with the commands of the King, she went to the Pavilion, and was
presented by him to the Queen and Royal Family, she was, herself, much
surprised at the great composure with which she was able to sustain
a trial of fortitude which appeared so alarming at a distance; but
she believed the excitement had sustained her. It was not so the next
dinner at which she was present in the same family circle; and the many
reflections which then oppressed her mind, very nearly overpowered her.
Afterwards, she frequently attended the King's small Sunday parties at
Brighton, and then, as upon all other occasions, she was received with
uniform kindness and consideration.
'Many letters of hers, even when writing from abroad to fight off her
marriage, had been preserved by the King. Some were in the possession
of Sir William Knighton,[79] who had obtained possession of the King's
correspondence, either as being his executor, or from having Colonel
MacMahon's letters in his custody. She had, also, various letters of
her own, from the Prince. It was, therefore, agreed, by the friends of
both parties, that, with a few exceptions, the whole correspondence
should be destroyed.
'In this arrangement, William the Fourth kindly concurred, and it
was carried into effect; only such papers being preserved as Mrs.
Fitzherbert thought fit to select to bear witness to her character.
* * * * *
'Upon one memorable exception, only, she was called upon by the Prince;
and, indeed, expressly sent for to Brighton, to give her opinion on a
step of great political importance which he was about to take, but her
influence, then, had been, some time, on the wane. He told her that he
had sent for her to ask her opinion, and that he demanded it of her,
with regard to the party to which he was about, as Regent, to confide
the administration of the country. At his commands, she urged in the
most forcible manner that she was able, his adherence to his former
political friends. Knowing all his engagements to that party, she used
every argument and every entreaty to induce him not to sever himself
from them. "Only retain them, Sir, six weeks in power. If you please,
you may find some pretext to dismiss them at the end of that time; but
do not break with them without some pretext or other." Such was her
request to him. He answered, "It was impossible, as he had promised";
but, at the same time, she observed that he seemed much overpowered by
the effort it cost him. Finding that resistance to a determination so
fixed was unavailing, she asked to be allowed to return to Brighton,
which she did; but, previously to leaving him, she said that, as he
had done her the honour of imposing upon her his commands of freely
declaring her sentiments upon this occasion, she hoped he would permit
her, before she left him, to offer one suggestion, which she trusted
he would not take amiss.
'She then urged upon him, as strongly as she was able, the
disadvantages which must accrue to his future happiness from treating
his daughter, the Princess Charlotte, with so little kindness. "You,
now, Sir," she said, "may mould her at your pleasure, but, soon, it
will not be so; and she may become, from mismanagement, a thorn in your
side, for life." "That is your opinion, Madam," was his only reply.
'I must, here, also add that, not only with the Royal Family, but,
also, with the Princess Caroline, Mrs. Fitzherbert was always on the
best terms. As to the Princess Charlotte, Mrs. Fitzherbert said,
the Prince was much attached to her for some years; indeed, he was
generally fond of children and young people, and it was only when
the Princess Charlotte became the subject of constant altercation
betwixt him and those who took part with Queen Caroline, that he, at
last, began to see her with more coolness. Upon one occasion, Mrs.
Fitzherbert told me, she was much affected by the Princess Charlotte
throwing her arms round her neck, and beseeching her to speak to her
father, that he would receive her with greater marks of his affection;
and she told me that she could not help weeping with this interesting
child.'
She spent the latter part of her life almost entirely at Brighton,
beloved by the townsfolk for her goodness and charity, and whilst she
lived her servants invariably wore the Royal livery. She died in 1837,
and was buried in the Old Catholic Church[80] at Brighton, where a
handsome monument was erected to her memory by the Hon. Mrs. Lionel
Dawson Damer, whom we have known as Miss Mary Seymour. It bears the
following inscription:
'In a vault near this spot, are deposited the remains of Maria
Fitzherbert. She was born on the 26th July, 1756, and expired at
Brighton, on the 29th March, 1837. One, to whom she was more than a
parent, has placed this monument to her revered and beloved memory, as
a humble tribute of her gratitude and affection.'
On her wedding-finger are three rings, in allusion to her three
marriages.
The Prince was more or less at Brighton in 1808, 1809, and 1810, when
came the death of the Princess Amelia, and the mental aberration of the
poor old King. On February 11, 1811, the Prince of Wales was sworn in
as Regent, and for the next two or three years Brighton saw little of
him; only the Pavilion was always growing bigger. Marlborough House was
purchased, in 1812, for £9,000, and in 1813 a series of improvements
and additions were made, which lasted till 1818. In 1814 the King of
Prussia and the Emperor of Russia came to England on a visit--the
former, in passing through Brighton, spending ten minutes at the
Pavilion for refreshment, and the latter going all over it, besides
walking on the Steine.
Queen Charlotte paid a visit to the Prince Regent at the Pavilion on
October 24, 1814, accompanied by the Princesses Elizabeth and Mary,
and they stopped until the 29th, visiting, during their stay, various
parts of the town, and expressing themselves much satisfied with the
situation and appearance of the place, and the general respectability
and conduct of the inhabitants. Before her Majesty left the town, she
ordered £50 to be distributed among the poor, and became the patroness
of the Dollar Society for their relief, towards which both she and the
Princesses liberally subscribed.
They paid another visit to Brighton the next year, as the _Gentleman's
Magazine_ for 1815 records:
'_Brighton. Dec. 14._--Her Majesty and the two Princesses arrived on a
visit to the Prince Regent, at the Pavilion. The principal inhabitants,
having received permission, went to Patcham, dressed in buff and
mounted, to escort her Majesty; a dutiful address was presented on
the occasion, to which her Majesty returned a gracious verbal answer.
Her Majesty, on entering Brighton, seemed to be highly pleased with
the attention paid her, and repeatedly bowed to the gentlemen who
escorted her. The Prince Regent remained from three o'clock until the
arrival of his august mother, outside the gate of the Pavilion, with
the Duke of Clarence and several of the nobility, to receive the Queen
and Princesses.--On the 16th, her Majesty, accompanied by the Duke of
Clarence, with the two Princesses, in a carriage, passed through the
principal streets of the town, notwithstanding the dampness of the
atmosphere, and was every where received with the most marked respect
and homage.'
It was of this visit that the following satire[81] (believed to have
been written by C. F. Lawler) was penned. I can only give a portion, as
it is too long; but I give it, as it exhibits the popular belief of the
doings at the Pavilion:
'ROYAL RANTIPOLES.
'"I'll stick to state affairs no more,
But banish toil and sorrow;
So order, Mac,[82] my coach and four
And we'll away to-morrow.
'"Of Rhenish take an ample store;
Be careful how you pack it;
My whiskers, too, my hearty cock;
And eke my shooting jacket.
'"I mean to pass a month or so,
'Midst rural scenes so pleasant;
In waging war with buck and doe,
With partridge, hare and pheasant.
'"The pockets of the coach well cram
With brandy, gin and carraway
That we may take a social dram,
When snugly riding far away."
'Thus spake the Prince, a demi-god,
The pink of earthly Regents,
Who shakes three nations with his nod,
And bows them to obedience.
* * * * *
'Thro' Brighton streets the carriage rolls,
Loud greeted by the million,
Who, crowding thick as herring shoals,
Block'd up the gay Pavilion.
'Now from his carriage Cæsar hopp'd,
(No second Master Ellar[83])
Just like a butt of porter dropp'd
Into an alehouse cellar.
'Then happy Cæsar cry'd "Huzza!
As sure as thou'rt a sinner,
Since here we are, Mac, here we'll stay,
And eat our Christmas dinner.
'"And we will sport and feast away,
In one unbroken revel;
Venus all night, and wine all day,
We'll play the very devil."
* * * * *
'The next day came a group of lords,
And eke of ladies plenty;
Deck'd out in jewels, wigs and swords,
Of each not less than twenty.
'High at the head of this gay throng
Shone mighty Cæsar's mother;
And, like a pine, the shrubs among,
Stood Y--k, his favourite brother.
'And brother K--t, too, shew'd his face;
And Austria's budding roses,[84]
To swell th' attractions of the place,
Thrust in their royal noses.
'And Cæsar's glorious sisters came,
Each like a butter firkin,
A round, unwieldy, greasy dame,
With visage gay and smirking.
'And H----d,[86] too, the prince of peers,
The monarch of the stables.
Who, like a glutton leech, for years
Had suck'd the royal tables.
'And H----d's frisky Mar----ss,[85]
The very pink of beauty,
Came, Cæsar's banquet to caress,
And pay her humble duty.
'And then came quibbling Cast----gh,[86]
And C----h's proud spousy;[86]
And placemen green, and placemen grey,
And many a Lady Blowsy.
'But sure some dire mishap befel
Red-headed Whiskerandos,[87]
Or frolick'd he with wanton belle,
In that fam'd street call'd _Chandos_?
'Or had he some contusion gain'd
While at the Fives court sparring?
Or, murky thought! a scratch obtain'd
In some domestic jarring?
'No, truth to tell, for truth will out,
Cæsar and this hot stager,
Had quarrell'd, as the thing fell out,
About some trifling wager.
'Says Redhead, "One to five, this pea
(And in the fire he cast it);
Will bounce against your Grace's knee,
As soon as fire shall blast it."
'"Done!" Cæsar cry'd.--The hot pea bounc'd,
Outrageously disloyal,
And with most trait'rous aim it pounc'd
Against the forehead royal.
'"Knave!" Cæsar roar'd, and Cæsar look'd
With most prodigious fury;
And said--"Such pranks shall not be brook'd,
No, Redhead, I assure ye!"
'Then Redhead swore his Highness jok'd,
And seem'd but to be fluster'd;
At which his Grace grew more provok'd,
And still more loudly bluster'd.
'And then he d----d the pea so vile,
And d----d poor Redhead's folly;
Whilst he stood staring all the while,
Quite dumb with melancholy.
'And from that hour, as courtiers say,
High ran the mutual malice;
Nor was hot Redhead, from that day,
Seen in the Royal Palace.
* * * * *
'Then Cæsar quoth--"My friends, give ear:
This Christmas, to my thinking,
Is the fit season for good cheer,
For frolic, fun, and drinking:
'"And, since my Mother will not stay
A week for recreation,
Our Christmas sports will have, to-day,
A sweet anticipation:
'"So, pray you, name, some lord or gent,
How we may all make merry,
How best the moments may be spent,
How we dull care may bury."
'Then quoth the Q--n, and with her snuff,
Rais'd thick terrestrial vapours--
"Suppose we play at blindman's buff,
Or cut some country capers."
'"Faith" (Cæsar cry'd) "catch who catch can,
I'll do my best endeavour;
So blind my eyes; 'ware maid and man,
And blindman's buff for ever!"
'Queen Dollalolla[88] straightway bound
Round Cæsar's eyes the linen,
And three times thrice she turn'd him round,
While all the group sat grinning.
'"Now!" cry'd the Q--n; and, at the word,
Off hood-wink'd Cæsar started;
While lady, from his grope, and lord,
With cunning archness darted.
'Now, Cæsar's hand profanely press'd
The bosom of his mother;
Now, grasp'd this fair one's naked breast,
Now wandered to another.
'Now, on some lady's carmine cheek,
His erring fingers lighted,
But not one timid shrug, nor shriek,
Told that the fair was frighted.
'At length, with am'rous fire, he seized
Round her white neck, his sister;
And clasp'd her to his heart, well pleas'd,
And, still mistaking, kiss'd her.
'And Heaven alone knows when and where
Had paus'd the panting Cæsar,
But the dame whisper'd in his ear--
"'Tis Mary; pray don't teaze her."
'Then Cæsar quick relax'd his hold,
And grip'd to find another;
And, soon, with hand most lewd and bold,
He clasp'd his wither'd mother.
'But she, too old for am'rous guile,
For Cupid's conflagration,
Felt his embrace, and stood the while
Secure from perturbation.
'Yes, like a stock or stone, she stood,
While naughty Cæsar linger'd,
Her gay attire and attitude,
Her varying graces finger'd.
'But gay, good temper'd Y--k, just by,
Felt for his brother's blunder,
And, whisp'ring in his ear, so sly,
Soon tore the pair asunder.
'"Take care, the belles!" then Cæsar cry'd,--
"I'll hug 'em if I reach 'em!"
Then Cæsar made a desp'rate stride,
And caught young Lady B----mp.[89]
'Young Lady B----mp, strange to tell,
Was much attached to virtue;
And scream'd, and Cæsar said, "Sweet belle,
I'll tickle, but not hurt you."
'And, then, his wicked fingers stray'd
About the fair one's graces;
The neck and bosom of the maid,
And such forbidden places.
'Then, in the maiden's eyes, a tear
Glisten'd, and seem'd to linger;
And then, she loudly cry'd "O, dear!"
And pinch'd the Royal finger.
'But, still, the Royal finger stay'd
And shew'd no signs of flinching;
But, further in the lab'rinth stray'd,
In spite of sighs and pinching.
'So high then grew the maiden's fears,
Lest scandal should traduce her;
That hard she box'd great Cæsar's ears,
And called him "_Vile Seducer!_"
'Then, dumb with anger and surprise,
And not without much reason,
Cæsar unveil'd his royal eyes,
To see who did the treason.
'Then Lady B----mp's mother rush'd,
Nor lords, nor ladies heeding,
And vow'd to Cæsar that she blush'd
To see the girl's ill breeding.
'But, if his Highness would, for once,
Benignantly forget her,
She would take home the silly dunce,
And teach the rustic better.
'Queen Dollalolla interpos'd,
To wipe off the transgression,
And Cæsar's wounds, at length, were clos'd
By this most vile concession.'
Then they played at 'hunt the slipper,' and would have tried forfeits,
only none of the gentlemen could be found with wit enough to invent the
penalties, and--
'Now wearied Cæsar call'd for wine,
And Y-- his brother Gracchus,
With Momus cut, and left his shrine,
To pay his vows to Bacchus.
'The peers, of sport and frolic cur'd,
Soon put their chairs in motion,
And join'd, by high example lur'd,
The jolly god's devotion.
'Then rose the dame of mighty mind,
The graceful Dollalolla,
And walk'd across the room, and sign'd
The peeresses to follow.
'But whether, as the Frenchman notes,
They went to closet handy,
To wet their pretty little throats,
And glut themselves with brandy:
'Or, whether, as the aforesaid saith,
Adjourning to their houses,
They went to plan their plans of death
Against their thoughtless spouses:
'Of this, the bard relateth not,
Nor with the ladies went he,
But chose to stay (far happier lot!)
Where claret flow'd in plenty.
'Now Cæsar at the head took place,
With Y-- and K-- beside him;
And those who said he shew'd no grace,
Most wofully belied him.
'Quoth he, when in his brain, a rout
The wine began to kick up,
Tho' lamely hopp'd the language out,
Delay'd by many a hiccup.
'Quoth he--"Upon my soul, Lord L.,[90]
You are a funny fellow,
And it would please me vastly well
If you a song would bellow;
'"Or, if Lord C.[91] and you will try
To sing my favourite duet,
I'll dub you dukes before you die,
So mind and keep me to it."
'Then did Lord C---- most gravely swear,
For songs he could not hum 'em;
For sharps and naturals made him stare,
He could not overcome 'em.
'"And," said Lord L----, "I gravely vow
By him the blessed Saviour,
I, never, from my youth, could know
A crotchet from a quaver."
'Then Cæsar cry'd--"Well, sing in flats,
I want no grace nor science;
And, if you mew like two Tom Cats,
I'll have a prompt compliance."
'When these two nobles saw 'twas vain,
To oppose his R----l Highness,
They pick'd them out a simple strain,
Suited to birds of shyness.
'The key once pitch'd, they puff'd their cheeks,
And gave the ears a griper,
Like the discordant sound that breaks
From an old Scotch bagpiper.
'But L----l soon got before,
And C----h jogg'd after,
While all their friends were in a roar,
And Cæsar shook with laughter.
'Cry'd Cæsar--"Of your notes be spare,
A little economic;
For though a vastly tragic air,
Your genius makes it comic.
'"When next, with long, Munchausen hop,
The Post[92] your praise is ringing,
Your politics the knave should drop,
And blazon out your singing."
'Then Cæsar volunteer'd a song,
And volunteer'd it gaily;
And bellow'd out, in cadence strong,
"Unfortunate Miss Bailey!"
'But, as his voice approach'd the close,
Its tones began to woddle;
The claret fumes so quickly rose,
While reaching to the noddle.
'Dimly the lights began to burn,
And care appear'd a bubble,
And ev'ry noble, in his turn,
Saw wine and glasses double.
'Now Cæsar from his cushion popp'd,
And none to help were able;
For, one by one, the whole group dropp'd,
Like logs, beneath the table.
'And now, God bless all men who breathe,
And shield the Royal _crania_,
That they may never break beneath
The Bacchanalian mania.'
[Illustration: Decorative motif]
FOOTNOTES:
[77] On June 19, 1811.
[78] On June 1, 1812, _Town Talk_ published a satirical print, Worse
and Worse, or the Sports of the 19th Century.' Mrs. Fitzherbert and
Lady Hertford are playing at shuttlecock with the Prince of Wales's
feathers. Mrs. F. says, 'This shuttlecock is too light for me. I'll
have no more to do with it.' Lady H. calls out, 'You have play'd with
it till you are tired, but it suits me to a nicety; the game's mine.
Y--h, take care of the shuttlecock.' Lord Yarmouth, who is behind Mrs.
F., says, 'O yes, Ma'am, I'll take care of the shuttlecock, I warrant
you.'
[79] Physician-in-ordinary to George IV.
[80] St. John the Baptist in Upper St. James's Street.
[81] 'Royal Rantipoles; or the Humours of Brighton.' A poem, by Peter
Pindar, Esq.; London, 1816, 8vo.
[82] Colonel MacMahon, the Regent's Privy Purse.
[83] A famous equestrian at Astley's Amphitheatre.
[84] The Archdukes John and Lewis, who spent a few days at Brighton
with the Prince.
[85] Marquess and Marchioness of Hertford.
[86] Lord and Lady Castlereagh.
[87] Lord Yarmouth, who had red hair and was a notable bruiser.
[88] According to the novelist Fielding, in his play of 'Tom Thumb,'
1730, Dollalolla was the consort of King Arthur, very fond of stiff
punch, but scorning 'vulgar sips of brandy, gin and rum.'
[89] Beauchamp, pronounced 'Beacham.'
[90] Liverpool.
[91] Castlereagh.
[92] The _Morning Post_.
[Illustration: Decorative panel]