It was eight o’clock in the evening before the procession broke up at St. James’s Palace, and even then the festivities were not over, for bonfires were lighted in the streets and squares, oxen roasted whole, and barrels of beer broached for the people, who enjoyed themselves in high good humour until the small hours of the morning. The day was not to end without some blood being spilled. A dispute took place that night at St. James’s between one Aldworth, the Tory member of Parliament for Windsor, and Colonel Chudleigh, a truculent Whig. The colonel called Aldworth, who had been in the royal procession, a Jacobite. Aldworth resented this as an insult, and, both being the worse for wine, the quarrel grew. Nothing would settle it but to fight a duel with swords, and the pair set off at once with seconds to Marylebone Fields. Aldworth was killed, “which is no great wonder,” writes an eye-witness, “for he had such a weakness in both his arms that he could not stretch them, and this from being a child it is suppos’d not to be a secret to Chudleigh”.[47] The King and Prince slept that night in St. James’s Palace. Did the ghosts of their Stuart ancestors mock their slumbers? The next day King George held a levée, which was largely attended, and the day after he presided over a meeting of the Privy Council, when George Augustus was created Prince of Wales. In the patent the King declared that his “most dear son is a Prince whose eminent filial piety hath always endeared him to us”. Yet, though the Prince was nominally a member of the Privy Council, the King was careful not to allow him the slightest influence in political affairs, or to admit him to his confidence or to that of his Ministers.