At this time, at all events, the public were free from the sickening details of the illness of Royalty, such as they have lately had--in the case of the German Emperor, Frederic--details which could do no good whatever to the outer world, and which must have been very painful to the relatives of the deceased Kaiser. They managed things better in George III.'s reign. If the medical men quarrelled, they did not openly wash their dirty linen, but it only was known to a few that Dr. Willis's treatment of his Royal patient, during his former illness, had been considered unnecessarily severe, and that, perhaps, they were not too well content to have him associated with them in the present crisis: still for the first year or so, the people, who really loved old Farmer George, were kept fairly acquainted with the state of his health, until it became hopeless--and then, perhaps very wisely, they only were fed with the merest details of his disorder. In February, the King was getting so well that the Queen and one of the Princesses, on more than one occasion visited him: then he suffered from a paroxysm of mania, to which succeeded a calm, during which he took his constitutional walks on the Terrace. In March, he got better, so much so, that on the 31st of March, the prayers for his recovery were discontinued in the Chapel Royal, and, at the Queen's Monthly Council, it was hoped that he would recover, so that he had the key of the Cabinet Council Despatch Boxes, and, in other ways, was treated as a responsible being. In May, his health was capricious, but still he was able to walk and ride in public. June brought a relapse, and his case was deemed hopeless, yet he still occasionally took walks. In July, he was in a very dangerous state, opiates had to be administered, and he partook of very little solid food. In August, it was said that his suite of apartments were padded to prevent his doing himself a mischief, but this was denied. September was a better month for him, but, in October, he retrograded. November and December only show him as leading a fairly healthy animal existence. [Illustration: 1812, or Regency à la Mode. (_Drawn and etched by W. Heath._)] CHAPTER VI. 1812. The Regent's doings -- The Royal Sprain -- Colonel McMahon -- Luddite and Factory Riots -- Scarcity of Bullion -- Murder of Mr. Perceval. Judging by the barometer of public opinion, the satirical prints, the topic of conversation in the commencement of this year, was the Prince Regent. Occupying the exalted position that he did, he naturally was the observed of all, and his foibles and peccadilloes were made the laughing-stock, or were censured of all. And the Caricaturists did not spare him. Take this illustration as a sample; it is called "1812 or REGENCY à la Mode," where we see our "fat friend," as Brummell called him, having his stays laced, and, during that operation, occupying himself by rouging his cheeks.