The Regent was always being satirized by the publication of some of his own puerilities, or those of his suite, who, of course, took their tone from him. The _Brighton Herald_ is answerable for the following: "A gallant Admiral, residing at the Pavilion, was, a few days since, presented by a certain Great Personage, with a beautiful milk-white mare, which it was stated, had just arrived from Hanover. Nothing was talked of but this fine creature; and every one seemed anxious to have her merits put to the test. The Admiral mounted, tried her in all her paces, and though he could but approve, yet he pronounced her to be greatly inferior to a favourite black mare of his own. The present, however, coming from so high a quarter, was, of course, received with every expression of duty and thankfulness. The long switching tail of the animal, not exactly suiting the Admiral's taste, he sent her to a farrier to have it cropped,--when, lo! he speedily received intelligence that it was a _false_ tail, and that, beneath it, appeared a short black, one. This curious fact led to a minuter inspection, when it was at length discovered that this _beautiful white Hanoverian horse_ was no other than the good-humoured Admiral's own _black mare_, which had been painted in a manner to elude his detection." Thus it was that "_le Roi s'amuse_." But the Regent was fit for better things. On the very same date that the above was recorded, we find that he ordered, at his own expense, a splendid monument to be erected at Rome, in memory of Cardinal York, the last legitimate descendant of the Stuarts. Another serious event was preparing for him, the marriage of his daughter. We have seen that she would have none of the Prince of Orange--it is not quite certain whether, at this time, she was dotingly fond of him who was to be her partner in life for the brief portion of time allotted her. At all events, he came over here, in February, as the suitor for her hand--arriving on the 21st, and dutifully waited upon "papa" on the 23rd. That his suit would be a prosperous one, there could hardly be a doubt, for he was received by the Duke of Clarence, Sir R. Bloomfield (the Regent's Chamberlain), Count Hardenberg, and the Nobility then residing at the Pavilion. "Happy's the wooing, that's not long a-doing," says the old rhyme, and this was speedily brought to a conclusion. The Prince paid his devoirs to his future bride, and her "stern parent," and then gracefully retired from the scene. In those days of no Telegraphs, the news of people's happiness, or misfortunes, was longer in reaching them than now, for a King's Messenger had to go to Paris, only to find Prince Leopold gone to Berlin, and to follow him there, in order to tell him that the English Princess Royal had been graciously pleased to accept him for her husband. On the Messenger's return, the consent of the Prince Regent was officially given, and the Lord Chancellor affixed the great Seal to the Marriage Contract.