he chandeliers,
when Lord Camelford, as one of the ringleaders, was taken into
custody, charged by a Mr. Humphries with having knocked him down
repeatedly and nearly beaten out one of his eyes. For this he was sued
at the Court of King's Bench, and was condemned to pay L500.

In town Lord Camelford was incessantly embroiled with the watchmen,
and was either had up before the magistrates, or else obliged to bribe
the constables to let him off. He was a terror and a nuisance to quiet
citizens passing through the streets at night.

In 1801, when the return of peace was celebrated by a general
illumination, no persuasions of his landlord, a grocer in New Bond
Street, could induce him to have lights placed in the windows of his
apartments.

Consequently the mob assailed the house and smashed every pane of
glass in his windows. Whereupon his lordship sallied forth, armed with
a cudgel, and fell on the rabble, and was severely mauled by it,
rolled in the kennel, much beaten, and his clothes torn off his back.
As the illuminations were to be continued on succeeding nights, he
hired a party of sailors to defend his house.

One evening he entered a coffee-house in Conduit Street in shabby
costume, and sat down to peruse the paper. Shortly after a buck of the
first water came up, threw himself into the box opposite, and shouted
to the waiter to bring him a pint of Madeira and a couple of wax
candles. Till these arrived he coolly took to himself Lord Camelford's
candle, set himself to read.

Lord Camelford shouted to the waiter to fetch him a pair of snuffers,
and then walking into the <DW2>'s box extinguished his candle.

Boiling with rage, the indignant beau roared out, "Waiter! waiter! who
the deuce is that fellow who has insulted me?"

The waiter, coming up with the pint of Madeira and the desired
candles, replied, "Lord Camelford, sir."

"Lord Camelford!" shouted the dandy, jumped up, threw down his money,
and bolted without having tasted his Madeira.

For some time Lord Camelford had been acquainted with a Mrs. Simmons