They paid another visit to Brighton the next year, as the _Gentleman's Magazine_ for 1815 records: '_Brighton. Dec. 14._--Her Majesty and the two Princesses arrived on a visit to the Prince Regent, at the Pavilion. The principal inhabitants, having received permission, went to Patcham, dressed in buff and mounted, to escort her Majesty; a dutiful address was presented on the occasion, to which her Majesty returned a gracious verbal answer. Her Majesty, on entering Brighton, seemed to be highly pleased with the attention paid her, and repeatedly bowed to the gentlemen who escorted her. The Prince Regent remained from three o'clock until the arrival of his august mother, outside the gate of the Pavilion, with the Duke of Clarence and several of the nobility, to receive the Queen and Princesses.--On the 16th, her Majesty, accompanied by the Duke of Clarence, with the two Princesses, in a carriage, passed through the principal streets of the town, notwithstanding the dampness of the atmosphere, and was every where received with the most marked respect and homage.' It was of this visit that the following satire[81] (believed to have been written by C. F. Lawler) was penned. I can only give a portion, as it is too long; but I give it, as it exhibits the popular belief of the doings at the Pavilion: 'ROYAL RANTIPOLES. '"I'll stick to state affairs no more, But banish toil and sorrow; So order, Mac,[82] my coach and four And we'll away to-morrow. '"Of Rhenish take an ample store; Be careful how you pack it; My whiskers, too, my hearty cock; And eke my shooting jacket. '"I mean to pass a month or so, 'Midst rural scenes so pleasant; In waging war with buck and doe, With partridge, hare and pheasant. '"The pockets of the coach well cram With brandy, gin and carraway That we may take a social dram, When snugly riding far away." 'Thus spake the Prince, a demi-god, The pink of earthly Regents, Who shakes three nations with his nod, And bows them to obedience. * * * * * 'Thro' Brighton streets the carriage rolls, Loud greeted by the million, Who, crowding thick as herring shoals, Block'd up the gay Pavilion. 'Now from his carriage Cæsar hopp'd, (No second Master Ellar[83]) Just like a butt of porter dropp'd Into an alehouse cellar. 'Then happy Cæsar cry'd "Huzza! As sure as thou'rt a sinner, Since here we are, Mac, here we'll stay, And eat our Christmas dinner. '"And we will sport and feast away, In one unbroken revel; Venus all night, and wine all day, We'll play the very devil." * * * * * 'The next day came a group of lords, And eke of ladies plenty; Deck'd out in jewels, wigs and swords, Of each not less than twenty.