May, 1819.]

The frost is intense. The town is empty. I returned from Whersted
last Wednesday se'nnight, and went to Oatlands on Thursday; there
was nearly the same party. Prince Leopold came and dined there on
Saturday. He is very dull and heavy in his manner, and seems
overcome with the weight of his dignity. This Prince will not
succeed here; everybody is civil to him from the interest he
excited at the time of the Princess's death--an interest which
has not yet subsided. There seems to be no harm in him, but
everybody contrasts his manners with those of the Duke of York,
and the comparison is not to his advantage. The Duchess likes the
society of men of wit and letters; more, I think, from the
variety of having them around her than from any pleasure she
takes in their conversation. Lord Alvanley is the man in whom she
takes the greatest delight.

1820.

London, January 20th, 1820 {p.023}

I went last Sunday se'nnight to Woburn. The Duke of York, Duke of
Wellington, Lievens, Jerseys, Worcesters, Tavistocks, Mr.
Russell, Lady Sandwich, Alvanley, C. Smith, Huntleys, Frederick
Ponsonby, Lauderdale, and others were there. The house, place,
establishment, and manner of living are magnificent. The _chasse_
was brilliant; in five days we killed 835 pheasants, 645 hares,
59 rabbits, 10 partridges, and 5 woodcocks. The Duchess was very
civil and the party very gay. I won at whist, and liked it very
much.

January 22nd, 1820 {p.023}

Just before the advance of the allied army on Paris a council of
war was held, when it was unanimously resolved to retreat. The
Emperor of Russia entered the room, and said he had reasons for
advancing, and ordered the advance; the generals remonstrated,
but the Emperor was determined. Woronzoff told Sydenham that that
day a courier arrived at his outposts with a letter for the
Emperor in the handwriting of Talleyrand. This was told me by
Frederick Ponsonby.

[Page Head: ILLNESS OF GEORGE IV.]

February 4th, 1820 {p.023}

I returned to Woburn on Sunday. We shot the whole week and killed
an immense quantity of game; the last two days we killed 245 and
296 pheasants, 822 and 431 head. On Sunday last arrived the news
of the King's death.[36] The new King has been desperately ill.
He had a bad cold at Brighton, for which he lost eighty ounces of
blood; yet he afterwards had a severe oppression, amounting
almost to suffocation, on his chest. Halfo