CHAPTER X
The Prince as a musician – A bon-mot of his – Lady Lade – Her husband, Sir John – The Prince's pecuniary difficulties – His dealings with his jeweller – The latter's story – Another financial mess
The King being ordered to Weymouth, the Prince left, early in July, for Brighton. We do not hear much of him there, and more of what we read is pleasant. Fitzgerald53 says: 'On one of the evenings at the Pavilion (one of Sir P. Francis's daughters reports) his Royal Highness, after dinner, having proposed music, and being actively engaged in performing, with Mr. Francis and some other person, the pretty hunting trio of "Azioli," of which the burden is Ritorneremo a Clori. But the story is amusing, and bears such a favourable testimony to the Prince's good humour, that the lady must be allowed to tell it herself.
'"It is well known that, to an excessive love of music, he added much real taste as an amateur, and some power as a performer; but his execution was not particularly good, and Mr. Francis, Sir Philip's son, with whom he frequently sang, was, sometimes, comically struck by the loudness of his voice, and his peculiar manner. On one of the above-mentioned evenings at the Pavilion, his Royal Highness, after dinner, having proposed music, and being actually engaged in performing with Mr. Francis and some other person the pretty hunting trio of 'Azioli,' of which the burden is Ritorneremo a Clori al tramontar del di, Mr. Francis suddenly found the full face of the Prince, somewhat heated by the eagerness of his performance, in immediate contact with his own; and this circumstance, combined with that of the loud bass tones in which his Royal Highness was singing the words Ritorneremo a Clori, striking him in some ludicrous point of view, he became absolutely unable to resist the effect on his nerves, and burst out laughing. The Prince evidently perceived that his own singing had produced the unseasonable laughter; but, instead of showing a displeasure at a rudeness which, however involuntary, would have been resented by many far less illustrious persons, he only called the offender to order with the words 'Come, come, Philip!' his countenance betraying, at the same time, a strong inclination to join in the laugh himself; and the trio proceeded to a conclusion. Sir Philip (adds his daughter) by his original humour, and great powers of conversation, was, often, the life of the Pavilion; though his temperate habits made the excesses occasionally committed at the Prince's table distasteful to him; and his royal host, perceiving him ready to drop asleep when the revels were long protracted, would say, 'We must carry grandpapa away to bed.'"'
The same ready good humour is shown in a pleasant scene which took place at the Pavilion. Cricket was often played on the lawn, and the dinner which followed was served in a marquee. On one of these occasions the Duke of York and Sheridan fell into dispute on some point of the game. Sheridan at length angrily told the Duke 'that he was not to be talked out of his opinion there, or anywhere else; and that, at play, all men were on a par.' The Duke was evidently about to make some peculiarly indignant reply, when the Prince stood up and addressed them both.
Dr. Croly, in his 'Life of George IV.,' tells the remainder of the story: 'The narrator of the circumstance, a person of rank, who was present, himself one of the most attractive public speakers of the day, has often declared that he never, on any occasion, saw any individual, under the circumstances, acquit himself with more ability. The speech was of some length – ten or fifteen minutes; it was alternately playful and grave, expressed with perfect self-possession, and touching on the occurrence of the game, the characters of both disputants, and the conversation at the table, with the happiest delicacy and dexterity. Among other points, the Prince made a laughing apology for Sheridan's use of the phrase "on a par," by bidding his brother remember that the impressions of school were not easily effaced; that Dr. Parr had inflicted learning upon Sheridan; and that, like the lover in The Wonder,54 who mixes his mistress's name with everything, and calls to his valet, "Roast me these Violantes," the name of Parr was uppermost in Sheridan's sleep: he then ran into a succession of sportive quotations of the word par, in the style of Ludere par impar, equitare in arundina longâ, until the speech was concluded in general gaiety, and the dispute was thought of no more.'
The rupture between the Prince and his father was complete, the Prince refusing to visit him while he was stopping at Weymouth, but sending the Duke of York instead; he pursued his course of folly at Brighton, where Fox visited him, and they went to Lewes Races, where the Prince was received by the High Sheriff of the county, attended by a host of javelin men. Three ladies were conspicuous at these races for their equipages, each drawn by four gray ponies – Mrs. Fitzherbert, the Duchess of Rutland, and Lady Lade.
This latter was no fit companion for any decent woman. The first heard of her was in St. Giles's, where she was said to be the mistress of Jack Rann, commonly known as Sixteen String Jack, a highwayman, who was executed in 1774. She married Sir John Lade, a boon companion of the Prince, and his tutor in the art of driving. She was famous for her bad language and skill in riding and driving. Of her the following lines were written:
'More than one steed Letitia's empire feels,
Who sits triumphant o'er the flying wheels;
And, as she guides them through th' admiring throng,
With what an air she smacks the silken thong!
Graceful as John, she moderates the reins;
And whistles sweet her diuretic strains;
Sesostris like, such charioteers as these,
May drive six harness'd monarchs, if they please.'
Sir John Lade, of Haremere, was a mere country squire who, when he came of age, inherited a fair fortune, which he soon dissipated. Mrs. Thrale was his guardian, and it was when he attained his majority in 1780 that Dr. Johnson wrote the following prophetic verses:
'Long expected one and twenty,
Ling'ring year, at length, is flown;
Pride and pleasure, pomp and plenty,
Great Sir John, are now your own.
'Loosen'd from the minor's tether,
Free to mortgage, or to sell;
Wild as wind, and light as feather,
Bid the sons of thrift farewell.
'Call the Betsies, Kates and Jennies,
All the names that banish care;
Lavish of your grandsire's guineas,
Show the spirit of an heir.
'All that prey on vice and folly,
Joy to see their quarry fly;
There the gamester, light and jolly,
There the lender, grave and sly.
'Wealth, my lad, was made to wander,
Let it wander as it will;
Call the jockey, call the pander,
Bid them come and take their fill.
'When the bonny blade carouses,
Pockets full – and spirits high —
What are acres? What are houses?
Only dirt, or wet and dry.
'Should the guardian friend or mother
Tell the woes of wilful waste;
Scorn their counsels, scorn their pother,
You can hang, or drown, at last.'
He kept race-horses, and lost. He gambled and betted on anything. One of his bets is somewhat amusing. It is in the Times of October 2, 1795: 'A curious circumstance occurred here (Brighton) yesterday. Sir John Lade, for a trifling wager, undertook to carry Lord Cholmondely, on his back, from opposite the Pavilion, twice round the Steine. Several ladies attended to be the spectators of this extraordinary feat of the dwarf carrying a giant. When his Lordship declared himself ready, Sir John desired him to STRIP. "Strip!" exclaimed the other: "why, surely you promised to carry me in my clothes!" "By no means," exclaimed the Baronet. "I engaged to carry you, but not an inch of clothes. So, therefore, my Lord, make ready, and let us not disappoint the ladies." After much laughable altercation, it was, at length, decided that Sir John had won his wager, the Peer declining to exhibit in puris naturalibus.'
When he got poor, I presume the Prince cut him, for he ended his days as groom and coachman to the Earl of Anglesey.
The two following paragraphs from the St. James's Chronicle for 1789 tell us something about the Prince's doings at Brighton:
August 13-15. – 'The Prince of Wales's birthday, on Thursday, was very splendidly celebrated at Brighthelmstone. – St. George, the famous fencing master, exhibited several trials of his skill, with two French masters, before the Prince and a large company, in a pavilion and marquees pitched about a mile from the town: an ox was roasted whole, and given to the populace. The Duke of Clarence gave prizes to several sailing boats, which afforded much diversion – the company dined in the pavilion, and the evening concluded with a supper and ball at the Castle Inn, given by the Dukes of York and Clarence. – The illuminations were universal and elegant.'
September 5-8. – 'The foundation for the Prince's dog-kennel was laid, last week, in the North fields near Brighton. – Six or seven acres of these fields are to be inclosed as a paddock, with the building in the centre, which is to be finished in a month.'
Yes, the repentant prodigal had forgotten all his promises of never again running into debt. He was deeply dipped, and yet he kept altering his 'Marine Pavilion,' and now was building most expensive stables. He tried to borrow money on post-obits, and Weltje was the go-between with the money-lenders. A Mr. Cator lent £10,000 on condition of being repaid treble the amount, and about £30,000 was raised in £100 bonds, repayable in twelve years, which bonds were signed by the Prince, the Duke of York, and Prince William. They then tried to raise about £350,000 abroad on the security of the Duchy of Cornwall and the Bishopric of Osnaburg, and it is said they received over £100,000 in cash and jewels; but the story of this loan is a long one, and does not come within the scope of this book.
Here is a story of his dealings with his jeweller Jefferys, whom he eventually ruined by not paying him, told by himself.55 He was appointed jeweller to the Prince in 1788 or 1789.
'About the period to which I allude, the Prince of Wales (upon Mr. Gray56 requiring a settlement of the great demands he had upon his Royal Highness) was so much displeased at that circumstance, as to cease giving him farther employment. His Royal Highness then sent for me to Carlton House, and conferred upon me (most unfortunately) the favour which he had withdrawn from Mr. Gray. From this time, not a day passed, for several years, in which, neglecting any general business, I did not spend half my time at Carlton House; and in which some entries were not made in my books of large amounts for goods sold to his Royal Highness.
*****
'On the twenty eighth day of January, One Thousand Seven Hundred and Ninety, the Prince of Wales sent for me to Carlton House, at a much earlier hour in the morning than he was accustomed to do; and, taking me into an inner apartment, with very visible marks of agitation in his countenance and manner, said, he had a great favour to ask of me, which, if I could accomplish, would be doing him the greatest service, and he should ever consider it accordingly. I replied, that I feared what his Royal Highness might consider a great favour done towards him, must be more than my limited means could accomplish; but, in all that I could do, I was entirely at his service, and requested his Royal Highness to name his commands.
'His Royal Highness then proceeded to state, that a creditor of Mrs. Fitzherbert had made a very peremptory demand for the payment of about sixteen hundred pounds: that Mr. Weltje had been sent by his Royal Highness to the creditor making such demand, to desire that it might be placed to the Prince's account: this, the creditor refused to do, on the ground that Mrs. Fitzherbert, being a woman of no rank, or consideration, in the eye of the law, as to personal privilege, was amenable to an immediate process, which was not the case with his Royal Highness. This, the Prince stated, to have caused in his mind the greatest uneasiness, for fear of the consequences that might ensue; as it was not in the power of his Royal Highness to pay the money then, or to name an earlier period for so doing than three or four months. The request, therefore, that his Royal Highness had to make to me was, that I would interfere upon the occasion, and prevent, if possible, any personal inconvenience to Mrs. Fitzherbert, which would be attended with extreme mortification to the feelings of his Royal Highness.
'I assured his Royal Highness that I would do all I could in the business; and I was appointed to attend, with the result of my endeavours, at Carlton House, the next morning. I did attend, as appointed, and presented the Prince of Wales with a receipt for the whole sum: – fifteen hundred and eighty-five pounds, eleven shillings, and sevenpence, which I had, that morning, paid, being the only effectual means of pacifying the creditor, and removing from the mind of his Royal Highness, the anxiety he appeared so strongly to labor under.
'His Royal Highness was unbounded in his expressions of satisfaction at what I had so promptly accomplished, and in his assurances of future support, a support so strongly made, and so frequently repeated, as well as accompanied with such apparent marks of sincerity, as to have fixed my faith, (even had it been wavering) in the entire confidence I might place in all his promises and assurances.
'But what will the world think, or say, when I inform them, that in ten long years of the most bitter adversity, occasioned by a continuance of similar confidence, I have repeatedly applied, in vain, to his Royal Highness for relief, even in any degree to which he might have been induced, or enabled to have afforded it me, but he has ever been deaf to my entreaties.
'The moment misfortune overtook me, the Prince of Wales totally deserted me; and my services, and his promises, were then alike forgotten.
*****
'In the afternoon of the same day on which I had so highly gratified the Prince, and heard from his lips such kind expressions of regard; the Prince of Wales came to my house, in Piccadilly, and brought with him, Mrs. Fitzherbert, for the express purpose, as His Royal Highness condescendingly said, that she might, herself, thank me for the great and essential service I had, that morning, rendered to her, by the relief my exertions had produced on the minds of his Royal Highness and Mrs. Fitzherbert. And his Royal Highness continued to repeat the same expressions of satisfaction, and assurances of support, which he had so abundantly made use of, in the former part of the day.'
Huish57 is responsible for the following: 'The person of Mrs. Fitzherbert was, one morning, taken in execution for a debt of £1,825, the Prince of Wales being in the house at the time. The writ being returnable on the morrow, and no bail being available, the money must be paid, or the lady conveyed to prison. The Prince lost not a moment in making the application to his customary resources, but they appeared to be, most unaccountably, hermetically closed against him. In some instances, the most shallow excuses were returned; in others, the impossibility of supplying so large a sum on so short a notice; all of which the Prince knew to be false, and, therefore, he began, justly, to suspect that there was some secret machinery at work to prevent the necessary supplies from being advanced.
'In this emergency, Mr. C – l was despatched to an eminent pawnbroker in Fleet Street, who at that time was in the habit of lending large sums of money to the nobility, on their plate and jewels, and who was the actual holder of the celebrated jewels of the Duchess of Devonshire, the publicity of which hurried her prematurely to the grave. On the present occasion, Mr. Parker, the pawnbroker, lost no time in repairing to Park Lane, where the unfortunate lady was in the custody of the sheriff's officers; and, here, a new difficulty presented itself in the way of her emancipation. The harpies of the law objected to any part of the plate or jewels being deposited in the hands of Mr. Parker, until their demand was satisfied. On the other hand, the wily pawnbroker refused to advance the money until the property was placed in his hands, as he did not know but what there might be other actions in reserve, for the liquidation of which the property in the house might prove inadequate. Under these circumstances, C – l was secretly despatched to Carlton House, with instructions to bring away with him a particular casket, which contained the Prince's state jewels, which, although exceeding in value ten times the amount of the sum which he had to pay, was borne away by the pawnbroker to his depository in Fleet Street, but which, however, was redeemed on the following day by an advance which the Prince obtained from the wealthy Jew in St. Mary Axe.'
CHAPTER XI
Rowlandson and Brighton – Poem on the Prince's birthday, 1790 – Lord Barrymore – Anecdotes respecting him and his family
FROM the pencil of Rowlandson the caricaturist, who with his friend Wigstead, a Bow Street magistrate, went a trip to Brighton in 1789, we have an excellent picture of the Pavilion, as it then was, and a view of the Steyne.
Their opinion of the building is that 'the tout ensemble is, in short, perfect Harmony. The whole was executed by Mr. Holland, under the immediate inspection and Direction of Mr. Weltjie, whose Attachment to his Royal Master was faithful and disinterested.' In the same book Rowlandson gives us a sketch of the beach at Brighton at the same period.
On July 23, 1790, the Prince went to Brighton for the season, being preceded by a day or two by the Duke of York, and his birthday was kept on August 17 in a most festive fashion, immortalized in verse in the Sussex Weekly Advertiser of August 23:
'Hail Brighton's Down! Your velvet green,
Hill, ocean, dale, each varying scene,
The distant flock, the sloping mount,
And spring, of sparkling Health, the fount;
But chief, the dimpling Sea, where lave
A thousand Naiads in the wave.
Whilst, rising from th' abyss below,
The quicken'd vitals warmer glow,
And nerves, new strung, with vigour dance,
And every pleasing thought enhance,
And make men fonder of their lives,
And of their Sweethearts, and their – Wives —
These are the common joys and boast
Of Brighton's full frequented coast,
So honoured by the gay and fair,
By Britain's Princes, and her HEIR.
The Morning breaks – of jocund bells
The wat'ry sound melodious tells
The sports, that banishing delay,
Are treasured for the chosen day.
See, borne upon the smiling tide,
The Mariner triumphant ride,
And Cricketers, in Royal Match,
Pray Fortune for a tingling catch.
Two roasting steers, with novel sight
The neighbourhood to feast invite;
Groan solid beams beneath the weight,
Hinds crowding round, with joy elate.
And now they're done – from knives and cleavers
Some fill their pockets – some their beavers;
Loaves plentiful, in show'rs are thrown,
And pails of ale wash clean all down.
Better, like manna, loaves to rain,
Than flams prepare 'gainst haughty Spain;
Cannons to ram, but their mouths muzzle,
And even Solomon to puzzle:
And like poor mice, when caught by cats,
Britons to turn to Baltic rats.
Meanwhile the Founder circles round,
Six jetty steeds before him bound;
And while the jolly huzzahs rise,
Of joy unfeign'd, and reach the skies,
Glad shiv'ring transports round him fly
And the tear trembles in his eye;
And York's high Duke, with lively glee
Views, turned to spits, a mighty tree.
Now, music of two princely bands,
Sudden, attention mute commands;
Alternate strains float sweet in air,
And thrill the breast of every Fair,
Bears to each manly heart their charms,
And all the trembling soul alarms.
When evening mild, at length invades
And spreads o'er earth and sea her shades,
Chequer well fancied lights her face,
Tell Britain's charming Hope and Grace.
Then hasten some to laugh their hour,
At the gay Stage's mirthful pow'r;
Whilst gentry of the nobler sort
To a grand dance and treat resort.
Ah! what avail the Castle's rays,
Of British beauty to the blaze,
Or the bright show of mimic fire,
To living flames of high desire?
See, cull'd from Cytherea's dove,
Thick, nodding feathers scatter love;
Beware the gem, the artful wreath
Where all Arabia's spices breathe,
The envious glove, the melting eye;
Nor dare the heaving neck descry,
Nor quiv'ring ancle's sprightly bound
To Harmony's enraptured sound —
Or, vent'rous youths, too sure you'll find
Your hearts and souls are left behind.
Did Anstie's Muse to me belong,
Brighton should rival Bath in song;
Since, ocean sprung, great Beauty's Queen
Delights to trip along the Steine.'
It was in this year that one of the Prince's boon companions, Richard Barry, seventh Lord Barrymore, made himself somewhat notorious at Brighton. He had just come of age, and into a fortune of £20,000 a year, of which he tried to make ducks and drakes as quickly as possible, especially on the turf. A characteristic anecdote of him is related in the Sussex Weekly Advertiser, of June 21, 1790: 'Lord Barrymore had his watch taken from him at Ascot Heath races. He missed it immediately, and followed the fellow, who stopped, and entered into conversation with a well-known boxer. As soon as the conversation between these gentlemen ended, his Lordship went to the champion of the fist, and took his watch. The latter expostulating, Lord Barrymore informed him that his friend had just taken his watch, and that, if he would recover it, he should have his own. The Knight of the Knuckle soon regained his Lordship's watch from the pupil of Barrington, and retrieved his own.'
In compliment to his manners and language, his lordship was generally known as Hell-gate; his next brother, the Hon. and Rev. Augustus Barry, was called Newgate, because he had been 'in prisons oft'; and their younger brother, the Hon. Henry Barry,58 Cripple-gate, because of some physical deformity. To complete this delightful family, there was a sister, who from her habit of swearing was called Billings-gate.
We read in the St. James's Chronicle, July 29-31, 1790: 'A pugilistick rencontre took place, a few days since, at Brighton, between Lord Barrymore and young Fox, son to the manager of the Theatre, in which the conduct of some of the parties is represented as very little to their credit.' The Sussex Weekly Advertiser, August 2, says: 'The Rencounter which took place on the Steine at Brighton, on Monday evening last, and the cause of it have been grossly misrepresented in the London papers; they were set out with the wrong day: but, as Lord Barrymore has, through the goodness of the Prince, forgiven the insult he received, we shall not revive it by a relation of its attendant circumstances.'
The caricaturist soon caught hold of it, and we have 'Scrub and Boniface, or, Three Brave Lads, against one poor Roscius – London, pub. Aug. 9 by Steine Briton, Newgate Invt, Cripple-gate Direxit, Hell-gate Fecit.' Mr. Fox, son to the manager of the Brighton theatre is on the ground, calling out, 'Foul, foul.' The Earl of Barrymore is still raining blows upon him, and kicking him, encouraged by his two brothers, one of whom says, 'B – t me, I'll lay 3 to 1 we lick him.' The other calls out, 'Bloody Newgate to me, if I don't take his father's licence.' Sheridan deprecates with, 'Dam it, Newgate, fight like a man, no kicking.' The Duke of York, looking on, thus alludes to his duel with Colonel Lenox, 'Fie donc – If he had hit my head, instead of my curl, I would have fought fair.'
The World of August 2, 1790, says: 'A report was circulated in town, that it was Charles Fox, and not the Manager's Son, who fought Lord Barrymore at Brighton. The report gained credit from the addition that the parties, immediately after the battle, coalesced.'
But fisticuffs were fashionable, vide the Sussex Weekly Advertiser of August 9, 1790: 'Between the heats, on Saturday, a Boxing Match took place between a young man of this town, and one of the black legged society; which, after a contest of about half an hour, terminated in favour of the latter. The number of spectators, we should think, were not less than 2,000.
'In making the ring, several scuffles ensued, that had like to have produced more battles. Captain Aston, who, lately, fought a duel, was with difficulty prevented in engaging in a conflict of the knuckle.
'One gentleman, who had struck a youth, as was supposed by some others that saw it, without provocation, was set upon, and had his shirt almost torn from his back.
'We could but both admire and applaud the singular good humour of the Duke of York, during the above battle. His Royal Highness, with a degree of freedom and politeness that might not have been expected even from a private gentleman, permitted any one who chose it, to take the benefit of his lofty Phaeton to see the fight, and actually accommodated, in, upon, and about it, near 30 persons, himself holding the reins, and observing the utmost care that the horses did not move forward, to endanger their lives and limbs, as on that, alone, depended the safety of many, who, either to gratify their Broughtonian curiosity, or ambitious desire to partake of so much of the Royal favour, had placed themselves on the wheels and every other part of the carriage, till it was completely covered.
'On the race-ground, on Saturday, Mr. Beeby, of Ringmer, near this town, feeling himself affronted at some words spoken by Lord Barrymore, told his Lordship, he should, in consequence, expect to see him the next morning. But an explanation, we hear, afterwards took place, and the matter was amicably adjusted; the offensive words not being directed to Mr. Beeby.'
Here is another of his fights recorded in the same paper of September 19, 1791: 'A circumstance occurred, last week, near the Steine at Brighton, that precipitated Lord Barrymore and Mr. Donadieu, a perfumer, in London, into a pugilistic encounter; but his Lordship, after a few rounds, being likely to obtain no advantage in single combat, an interference ensued, that soon brought Mr. Donadieu into a situation so perilous, that he summoned the assistance of the spectators by the cry of murder, which so operated on the humanity of a young man, a linen draper, present, that he remonstrated on the violence offered to Mr. D., and, in consequence, got very roughly handled. The matter, we hear, has since been compromised with the perfumer to his satisfaction. But the linen draper, we understand, is seeking redress through the medium of the law.' There is another paragraph in the next week's paper, confirming the intention of the linen-draper to go to law.
The same newspaper of September 26 gives the following story, which has been universally credited to Lord Barrymore: 'A coffin has been borne about by men, through the streets of Brighton, for several evenings, in dismal annoyance to the peaceable inhabitant, and valetudinarian visitant. The Merry Mourners happened, unfortunately, to call at one, among many other houses, where pregnancy gave a natural increase of sensibility to the nerves of a poor woman, who opened the door at their wanton summons, and, soon after, by miscarriage, produced a premature candidate for a coffin, in melancholy earnest. An Italian, who, having heard, or, perhaps read, that Thespis, daubed with wine lees, squeaked his satire from a cart, got into this comic coffin, in order to grin a death's head moral to mortality. When his horizontal site got tiresome, Signor Cataletto resigned in favour of another, a dependent of the same household, who was conveyed in the coffin to the churchyard, whither, by consent between the parties, one of them, soon after, conducted a fair companion. On taking their stand near the coffin, Master Dead-alive rose, and sat up therein. The affrighted Rep, thinking it was some ghost which rose to avenge the profanation intended, scoured over the tombs with the pace of Camilla. Mr. O. a gentleman, having been honoured, one evening, with a visit by this drear procession, sallied out with a brace of pistols. They fled – but the bearers were, at last, obliged to drop their sable burden. The spirited pursuer soon brought the cased menial to own, that though so confined, he was yet alive, and belonged to the Wargrave59 family.'
One who knew him well thus describes him: 'His Lordship was alternately between the gentleman and the black guard, the refined wit and the most vulgar bully were equally well known in St. James's and St. Giles's. He could fence, dance, drive, or drink, box, or bet with any man in the kingdom. He could discourse slang as trippingly as French, relish porter after port, and compliment her ladyship, at a ball, with as much ease and brilliance, as he could bespatter in blood in a cider cellar.'
Henry Angelo,60 the fencing master, tells many anecdotes of him; and, as he was very frequently in his company, owing to their mutual taste for amateur theatricals, they may be taken as authentic. I will only transcribe two of them: 'The year after I played Mother Cole, at Brighton, I received an invitation from Lord Barrymore to his house, then upon the Steyne. One night, when the champagne prevented the evening finishing tranquilly, Lord Barrymore proposed, as there was a guitar in the house, that I should play on it. I was to be the musician, and he, dressed in the cook-maid's clothes, was to sing "Ma chère amie." Accordingly, taking me to another part of the Steyne, under Mrs. Fitzherbert's window, (it was then three o'clock) he sang, whilst I played the accompaniment. The next day, he told me (quizzing, I should think,) that the Prince said, "Barrymore, you may make yourself a fool as much as you please; but, if I had known it was Angelo, I would have horsewhipped him into the sea."'61
'Lord Barrymore's fondness for eccentricities ever engaged his mind. Whether in London, or at Wargrave, 'twas all the same, always in high spirits, thinking of what fun he should have during the day. I shall begin with London. Seated, after dinner, at eleven o'clock, on one of the hottest evenings in July, he proposed that the whole party should go to Vauxhall. The carriage being ordered, it was directly filled inside; and the others, outside, with more wine than wit, made no little noise through the streets. We had not been long at Vauxhall, when Lord Barrymore called out to a young clergyman, some little distance from us; who, when he approached, and was asked, "Have you had any supper?" to our surprise, he answered, "Vy, as how, my Lord, I have not, as yet, had none." A waiter passing by at the time, Lord Barrymore said, "You know me; let that gentleman have whatever he calls for: " when he told the parson to fall to, and call for as much arrack punch as he pleased. "Thank ye, my Lord," said he, "for I begins to be hungry, and I don't care how soon I pecks a bit."