Goodwood Races being due, I brought up at the “Keppel’s Head,” and let my kinsman, Henry Delmé, at Cams (a mansion at the head of Portsmouth Harbour), know that I was ready for a seat on his drag. [Sidenote: Aug. 13.] On the 13th I intercepted the yellow coach at Cosham, and had my portmanteau placed in the boot. Mrs. Delmé was on the box, sitting behind the same four greys I recollected so well. Fanny Delmé and Mrs. Delmé Radcliffe inside, George Delmé and other friends outside. Such a day! Everything lovely. On the course I was soon spotted by Captain Rous. Not the enclosure or any part of the course that I had not access to. Jack Crosbie took me to his father, a smart old soldier in a neat phaeton, with a pretty daughter by his side. I was invited to Watergate, and forgot all previous engagements. Portmanteau shifted from the drag; friends going back had to order my six newly-made shirts, with cambric front and frills, to be sent after me! There was another open Crosbie carriage, from which four posters were being removed. Two handsome girls got out, attended by same number of brothers, who saw them into the grand stand, but no further. I recognised many of the Goodwood party, whom I came to know better later on. There was room for me in the phaeton, with a pleasant drive of twelve miles across the Sussex Downs to Watergate. [Sidenote: Aug. 15.] The last day of the races appeared much too soon. [Sidenote: Aug. 18.] I was conveyed to Petersfield, where I caught the Portsmouth “Regulator,” and so to London. A night with my brother-in-law, Stephenson, and sister Mary, in Arlington Street. In the morning on by Norwich “Telegraph” to Larlingford and Quidenham. [Sidenote: Aug. 29.] My dear father’s large family told heavily; the Hall was closed, and he was living in the Parsonage. At end of the month the kind Duke of Sussex took me with him to Kinmel, followed by Charlie Gore, his aunt Lady Cæcilia Underwood, and her brother, Captain Gore, R.N., and others. [Sidenote: Sept.] After dinner His Royal Highness smoked the best tobacco, through a convenient boxwood mouth-piece, which I had charge of. We, the staff, in the evening wore green coats, with his Royal Highness’s buttons, buff cloth waistcoats, and trousers. One afternoon, luckily an hour before dinner-time, I sat on the tail of my dress-coat; in the pocket was the cigar-holder, shortened by a quarter of an inch. Colonel Hughes was a clever turner. I ran to him in my trouble, and he turned what was left so cleverly that no one could detect it was not new. I watched His Royal Highness changing the holder in his mouth; he never found out the difference, and I took care that his black page did not either. Sir Richard Bulkeley, who married the eldest daughter of Colonel and Mrs. Hughes in May 1828, lost her within a year; so we were very quiet. I drove with him in his mail phaeton several trips to Baron Hill at Beaumaris.