We drove through Cassiobury, Lord Essex’s; to The Grove, Ld. Clarendon’s, and so on to Russell Farm, the Ladies’ Capel. Pretty ground and fertile country. Ld. H. fished, and caught a few trout. Beauclerk did not articulate ten words; he seems happy, but it is the bliss of torpor. She resides reluctantly in the dignified solitude of a guinguette in the skirts of a petty town. From Beauclerk’s practice one should think his precept was that conversation spoilt society; he rarely incurs that risque. It is to be regretted, as he has a most acute perception, and an uncommon degree of subtilty in his argument. No person is clearer on the obscure subject of abstract metaphysics; his definitions are ingenious and brilliant. Finance is also a branch of political economy he is profound in, and had he entered Parliament he would have distinguished himself. At present he is lost; shyness, indolence, and a sort of content deprive society of his exertions and his friends of his company.

THE KING SHOT AT

The papers on Friday announced a singular accident which happened to the King at the Review on Thursday in Hyde Park; a musket ball wounded a Mr. Ongley standing near him. The question was whether it was from design or chance—the chance of an unloaded musket. When I came home, the first question I asked the porter in getting out of my carriage was whether there was anything new; he replied with eager alarm that the King had been shot at from a pistol at the play. I thought this story an exaggeration of the former one, but to my surprise found that the evening of the day on which he had escaped the bullet, he was deliberately aimed at from the pit. The ball lodged in the upper boxes, and the King escaped unhurt. His behaviour was like that of a hero of antiquity; he was in full possession of all his faculties, and was cool enough to tell the Queen, who was not in the box when the pistol was fired, that the report was from a squib. He remained on during the play with the utmost sang-froid. He told a person that he observed the fiddlers expected another shot as they covered their heads with their cremonas. The enthusiasm was boundless; additional verses were added by Sheridan to God Save the King.[100] The King was so delighted with Sheridan’s behaviour to the Princesses, for he prevented them going into their box by saying that a pickpocket was taken in the pit which made a riot and his presence was required, and begged their R.H. to wait in the room. He shall feel gratitude to the latest hour of his life, he says, to him for this sensibility. Sheridan, Mrs. S., and Tom are all to go to Court, both to-morrow and Thursday. Mr. Fawkener[101] dined with us on Friday; he had attended the examination of the man at the Privy Council, and he said he was certainly mad. He was dismissed the army for insanity a few months ago, and he has since worked as a silver-smith; his name is Hadfield. I was vexed at not being present. I never much liked Money Hill, but this has disgusted me, for had I been at home I should have gone in my own box, from where I should have seen the whole representation, and with safety.

Ld. Morpeth was to have come to Money Hill on Wednesday; he came to tell me on Saturday that his carriage was at the door at one o’clock to convey him thither, but that he was at White’s, not returned from Tuesday evening’s occupation; he owned to losing two thousand pounds. He will grow a decided gambler.

My old friend and admirer, Ld. Berkeley, gave Lord Chesterfield a reproving repartee. Ld. B. has killed two or three highwaymen, and it is known that he is distressed when the occurrence is alluded to. Ld. C., meaning to annoy him, asked him ‘When he had last killed a highwayman?’ ‘It was, my Lord, as well as I can recollect, just at the time when you hung your tutor,’ alluding to the unfeeling and wicked transaction about Dr. Dodd, who, though deserving of punishment, should not have met with it from his pupil, who from youth and gratitude ought to have felt more indulgence for the errors of Dodd.[102]

The Prince of Wales has notified his Royal pleasure of dining here. He grew quite angry at not being invited; he even spoke to my mother about it. He comes on Saturday, and Prince Augustus.[103] The latter came home to England without the knowledge and against the consent of their Majesties. He arrived at the house of Lady Augusta.

MRS. FITZHERBERT

I went last night to the Opera. The Princess of Wales glanced many an inquiring look towards Mrs. Fitzherbert’s box, in which the Prince was as usual. This old amour is revived. The opinion of the world is so whimsical. Every prude, dowager, and maiden visited Mrs. F. before, and the decline of her favour scarcely reduced her visitors; but now they all cry out shame for doing that which she did notoriously five years ago. There is a sort of morality I can never comprehend.

Ld. H. took a fancy for about a week to write me some verses every night after he went to undress; I complained of his keeping me up late, he wrote immediately:—

That his labours have set you asleep, is allowed