Sheridan was helplessly drunk, and one of the players, noticing this, made the suggestion that he should be left as a hostage. The idea appealed too strongly to the vivacious crew to be scoffed, so poor Sheridan was left to sleep off his wine and to pay the full reckoning in the morning.

In 1798 Hanger was in the King's Bench Prison, not being released until April of 1799, when he compounded with his creditors, and with a capital of £40 set up as a coal merchant. The Prince on horseback met him one day and called with a laugh, "Well, George, how do coals go now?" "Black as ever, your Royal Highness," was the cheerful reply.

He was known as "Georgey-a-cock-horse," because, with his hat on one side, he rode a Scotch pony named Punch. Though in 1814 he inherited the title and estates of Baron Coleraine, he refused to recognise any other name than that of Colonel Hanger, the reason being that, having no wife by ceremonial rites but the errant gipsy, he yet had a partner who was called Mrs. Hanger, and he would not slight her by taking a title which she could not share. In the latter part of his life he grew too coarse for the Regent to find pleasure in his society, and he lived quietly in Somers Town until he died in 1824.

His elder brother, Baron Coleraine, was known as “Old Blue Hanger," from a liking he once showed for a blue coat. "He was a Beau of the first water, always beautifully powdered, in a light green coat with a rose in his buttonhole. Having lived much in Paris before the Revolution, he affected the manners of the French Court, and made his mild repartees with such an access of ceremony, that they raised a laugh where real wit sometimes failed. For instance, once when starting on a river party the Duchess

"Les Trois Magots"

287

of York was informed that she must wait for the tide, Coleraine, with a profound bow said, "If I had been the tide I should have waited for your Royal Highness." "Nothing could have been more stupid," adds Raikes; "but there was something in the manner in which it was said that made everybody burst out laughing."

The Three Barrymores-" Les Trois Magots," as Gillray named them below the caricature he made of them are worth no more than a mention as companions of the Prince of Wales. They were exceedingly wild Irishmen, and Lord Barrymore alternated between a gentleman and a blackguard. A refined wit and a most vulgar bully, he was equally well known at St. Giles's and St. James's. He could fence, dance, drive, 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 blood in a quarrel in a cider cellar. He was generous to prodigality, and always independent of prejudice, and was so foul-mouthed as to gain the nickname of "Hellgate." He died by misadventure in 1793, at the early age of twenty-four.

Henry Barry, his brother, eighth Earl of Barrymore, the inventor of the "Tiger," or boy-groom, being lame, was known as "Cripplegate." The third brother, Augustus, was in Holy Orders in the Church of Ireland, but this did not save him from being an inveterate gambler, always in debt and in danger of the sponging house. He was said to have been in every prison in England except Newgate, therefore he was hilariously christened "Newgate." To this precious trio we must add a word about their sister, Lady Melfort, who had so bad, a temper, and made use of such foul language, that she earned the name of "Billingsgate." These Barrymores always said what

came into their minds, their wit always ready and their spirits always high.

As for the Duke of Norfolk, generally known as "Jockey," he too was one of the constant visitors at Brighton, wearing a sky-blue suit with lace ruffles, with which, when shooting, he would at times wipe out the of his In him drunkenness was hereditary, says Wraxall, and Thackeray gives us a picture of the "poor old sinner" being deliberately made drunk with bumpers of brandy by the First Gentleman in Europe.

pan

gun.

Sir John Lade, a creature of the Prince's, was one of the false Dandies, for his highest ambition was to be thought a jockey, and he generally dressed as such. One good story about him is to the effect that he wagered Lord Cholmondeley that he would carry him twice round the Steine at Brighton, and as he was a small man and Cholmondeley a large one a great crowd assembled to witness the feat. The two men met on the Steine, and Sir John stood waiting. "Well," said his lordship, "I am ready." No," replied the baronet; "I said I would carry you round the Steine, but I said nothing of your clothing. Please strip that we may not disappoint the ladies." Cholmondeley paid the wager.

When one thinks of the orgies which took place at Brighton with such a set of men and women--men lying under the table, wine spilled, cards all over the place; the intrigues and schemings, the races, the publicity of everything, no wonder can be felt at the King's dislike for his son's friends, nor at the indignation expressed by his subjects against the Prince.

One of Brummell's contemporaries was Sir Lumley Skeffington, who set up as a man of fashion as soon as he had finished his education. He was a stage-struck youngster, who attended the production of every new