'At ten o'clock, the Princes and the whole of the Royal dinner party left the Pavilion, for the ball at the Castle. The rooms had a good show of company as early as half past eight, but, towards nine, they began to arrive in crowds. Carriages with four and six horses rattled through the town from Worthing, Rottingdean, Lewes and Eastbourne. Before ten o'clock, not less than four hundred persons were present; and, before eleven, the assemblage had received an addition of two hundred, at least. The crowd occasioned heat, and many ladies nearly fainted, though every possible precaution was taken to prevent it.
'When the Royal Brothers entered the ball room, the band (the Prince's) struck up, "God save the King," all the company standing until they had passed down the room. All the rank, elegance, fashion and beauty in Sussex were present. A few minutes subsequent to the arrival of the Princes, dancing commenced with the Honey Moon. About fifty couple stood up; who led off, it was impossible correctly to ascertain. This dance was succeeded by Lord Macdonald's reel; at the end of which, about half an hour after midnight, the Prince and his Royal brothers removed to the supper rooms: tables were laid in three separate rooms, but the company was so numerous, that many could not be accommodated with seats; and, consequently, sans refreshment, they were compelled to remain in the ball room. The tables were decorated with every delicacy of the season. The ladies were dressed in an unusual style of elegance; such a rich display of diamonds we never saw at a public entertainment before, and such a fascinating display of beautiful women, in one house, was not to be found, perhaps, in any other part of the world. The Princes were all in regimentals, and all appeared in high health and spirits. The attention paid by those illustrious personages to the company was highly flattering. They entered into conversation with all they knew; and the ladies were highly gratified with the marked attention which was so peculiarly bestowed upon them; and all ultimately retired, highly gratified with the entertainment they had received.'
My readers must pardon my introducing an episode unconnected with this book, except as regards Brighton; but it is so curious that I cannot refrain. It is chronicled in the Annual Register for 1806:
'Oct. 25.—Among the personages who lately attracted public notice at Brighton, was an original, or would be original, generally known by the appellation of The Green man. He dressed in green pantaloons, green waistcoat, green frock, green cravat: and, though his ears, whiskers, eyebrows, and chin were powdered, his countenance, no doubt, from the reflection of his clothes, was also green. He ate nothing but greens, fruits and vegetables; had his rooms painted green, and furnished with green sofa, green chairs, green tables, green bed, and green curtains. His gig, his livery, his portmanteau, his gloves and his whip were all green. With a green silk handkerchief in his hand, and a large watch chain with green seals, fastened to the green buttons of his green waistcoat, he paraded every day on the Steine.
'This morning, at six o'clock, this gentleman leaped from the window of his lodging, on the south parade, into the street, ran thence to the verge of the cliff nearly opposite, and threw himself over the precipice, to the beach below. The height of the cliff whence he precipitated himself, is about 20 feet perpendicular. From the general demeanour of the above gentleman, it is supposed he is deranged. His name, we understand, is Henry Cope, and that he is related to some highly distinguished families.'
There were some contemporary verses on Mr. Cope:
'A spruce little man in a doublet of green,
Perambulates, daily, the streets and the Steyne.
Green striped is his waistcoat, his small clothes are green,
And, oft, round his neck a green 'kerchief is seen.