The first proof of the agreeable alteration in his people's feelings towards him was made clear to the King, when, by his physician's advice, he left Windsor in June 1789 for Weymouth. That seaside resort went mad with loyalty, and so great was the enthusiasm that in the parish church of Lyndhurst "God save the King" was substituted for a psalm. "The preparations of festive loyalty were universal," Miss Burney has written. "Not a child could we meet that had not a _bandeau_ round its head, cap, or hat, of 'God save the King'; all the bargemen wore it in cockades, and even the bathing-women had it in large coarse girdles round their waists. It is printed in golden letters upon most of the bathing-machines, and in various scrolls and devices it adorns every shop and almost every house in the two towns ... Melcombe Regis and Weymouth. The King bathes, and with great success; a machine follows the royal one into the sea, filled with fiddlers, who play 'God save the King,' as his Majesty takes his plunge!"[291] [291] _Diary and Letters of Madame D'Arblay._ At Weymouth, George bathed, rode, paid visits to various towns and country seats in the neighbourhood, went to the little theatre, and was everywhere welcomed with a heartiness to which he had been a stranger since the first months of his reign. The life of the Court there was, of course, very quiet. "The King's bathing agreed beyond anything with him," Mrs. Harcourt wrote, "the Princess also looks well, but the Queen looks, I think, very ill, and by all accounts has been so low and languid that nothing but real illness can account for it. She always appears to me to look worse and worse every time I have seen her for the last half-year. Her foot is bad, but she walks a little. They have no society at all but those you know of. Mr. Pitt and Lord Grenville are here, but never asked in. The party has always been the Queen, Princess Royal, Lord Chesterfield and General Harcourt at casino; Princess Elizabeth, Lady Mary, Lady Caroline, Colonel Gwyn at cribbage; the King, Colonel Garth, and Lord Chesterfield at piquet. Lord and Lady Courtoun and Princess Augusta have hitherto played at piquet, but now I make a fourth. On Sunday, at eight, we all went to the rooms, which is, without exception, the oddest ceremony I ever saw. A very large room, two or three hundred people, none of which, except the two Lady Beauclerks and three or four men, one ever heard of. It is a circle like a drawing-room exactly, and there they stand--or walk, if they can--for about half-an-hour; then go into the card room, which opens into it, and where there are two or three tables. The King and Queen or Princesses play, the people all walking by the door, and looking in, but not coming in. The King walked about a little more; and they all went away at ten."[292] [292] Quoted in Fitzgerald: _The Good Queen Charlotte_.