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THE LIBRARY
OF
THE UNIVERSITY
OF CALIFORNIA
RIVERSIDE
GIFT OF
Dr. Richard Hostetter
>v--L-i*iii'^
m^
THE
QUEENS OE ENGLAND
OP THE
HOUSE OF HANOVER
VOL. I.
LONDON' : PllISTKI) IIY
'rolTIsWOCUK AM> 10.. KKW-STICKKT (^QfARK
AND IVMM.IAJIKXT .STUKKT
LIVES
QUEENS OE ENGLAND
OF THE
HOUSE OF HANOVEE
DE. DOBAN, F.S.A.
AUTHOR OF -TABLK TRAITS' 'IIABITS ANIl MKx' KTC.
FOURTH EDITION
CAREFULLY REVISED ASD MUCH ESLARGED
IN TWO VOLUMES
VOL. I.
LONDON
RICHARD BENTLEY & SON, NEW BURLINGTON STREET
^iiblisljcvs in ©rbiniTrn to fitr JIfajfstn
1875
TO
HENEY HILL, Esq, E.S.A.
ONE OF THE MOST ZKAI.UUS OF ANTIQUARIES
AND
MOST HOSPITABLE OF FRIEXDS
^hb ijcbi anb ilcbiscb (!:Ditioii is fasmbeb
Br
THE AUTHOR
CONTENTS
OF
THE FIRST VOLUME.
SOPHIA DOROTHEA, OF ZELL,
WIFE OF GEORGE I.
CHAPTER I.
GEORGE OF BRUNSWICK-ZELL AXD ELEANORA d'oLBREUSE.
PAGE
Woden, the father of the line of Brunswick — The seven brothers at
dice, for a wife — D'Esmiers d'Olbreuse and his daughter Elt?anora
— Love-passages, and a mamage — A Bishop of Osnabriick — Birth
of Sophia Dorothea 1
CHAPTER II.
WIVES AND FAVOURITES.
A ducal household — Elevation in rank of the mother of Sophia
Dorothea — Births and deaths — A lover for Sophia — The Bishop
of Osnaburgh an imitator of the Grand Monarqtie — Two success-
ful female adventurers at Osnaburgh . . . . . .11
CHAPTER III.
THE BRUNSWICKER IN ENGLAND.
Prince Augustus of Wolfenbiittel, the accepted lover of Sophia —
Superstition of the Duke of Zell — Intrigues of Madame von Platen
— A rival lover — Prince George Louis : makes an oft'er of marriage
to Princess Anne — Policy of the Prince of Orange — Prince
George in England : festivities on account of his visit — Execution
of Lord Stafford — Illness of Prince Rupert — Tlio Bill of Exclu-
Vlll CONTENTS OF
PACK
sion, and the Duke of York at Holyrood — Probable succession of
the House of Brunswick — Prince George recalled — Successful
intrigues of Sophia, wife of Ernest — A group for au artist — Ill-
fated marriage of Sophia — Elizabeth, Queen of Bohemia — ' Goody
Palsgrave ' — The Electress Sophia, and her intellectual skirmishes 1
CHAPTER IV.
THE HOUSEHOLD OF GEORGE AND SOPHIA.
Reception of Sophia at the Court of Ernest Augu.stus — Similar posi-
tion of Marie Antoinette and Sophia— Misfortune of the abigail
Use — Compassionated by the Duchess of Zell — Intrigues and
revenge of Madame von I'laten — A new favourite, Mademoiselle
Erraengarda von der .Schulenburg — A marriage /(^^e, and intended
insult to the Princess Sophia — Grdss vice of George Louis .
CHAPTER V.
THE ELECTORATE OF HANOVER.
The House of Hanover ranges itself against France — Ernest Augustus
created Elector — Domestic rebellion of Ids son Maximilian — His
accomplice, Count von Mollke, beheaded — The Electors of
Germanv ........... 4']
CHAPTER VI.
THE KONIGSMARKS.
Count Charles Ji^hn Konigsniark's roving and adventurous life — The
great heiress— An intriguing countess — 'Tom of Ten Thousand ' —
'i'he murder of Lord John Thynue — The fate of the count's iv-
complices — Court influence shelters the guilty count
CHAPTER VII.
KONIGSMAKK AT COURT.
\'arious accomplishments of Count Philip Christopher Konigsmark —
The early compaidon id" Sophia Dorothea — Her friendship for him
— An interesting interview — Intrigues of Madame von Platen —
Foiled in her machinations — A dramatic incident — The unlucky
glove — Scandal iigainst the honour of the Trincess— A unstress
THE FIRST VOLUME. IX
PAGE
euragecl on discovery of her using rouge — Indiscretion of the
Princess — Her visit to Zell — The Elector's criminal intimacy with
Madame von der Schnlenburg — William the Xorman's brutality
to his wife — The elder Aymon — Brutality of the Austrian
Empress to ' Madame Royale " — Return of Sophia, and reception
by her husband 08
CHAPTER VIII.
THE CATASTROPHE.
The scheming mother foiled — Count Konigsmark too garrulous in his
cups — An eaves-dropper — A forged note — A mistress's revenge —
Murder of the count — The Countess Aurora Konigsmark's accoujit
• of her brother's intimacy with the Princess — Horror of the Princess
un healing of the count's death — Seizure and escape of Mademoi-
selle vou Ivnesebeck — A divorce mooted — The Princess's declara-
tion of her innocence — Decision of the consistorial court — The sages
of the law foiled by the Princess — Condemned to captivity in the
castle of Ahlden — Decision procured by bribery — Bribery universal
in England — The Countess Aurora Konigsmark becomes the mis-
tress of Augustus, King of Poland — Iler unsuccessful mission to
Charles XTI. — Exemplary conduct in her latter years — Becomes
pi'ioress of the nunnery of Quedlinburg . . . . . I'l
CHAPTER IX.
PRISON AND PALACE.
The prison of the captive Sophia Dorothea — -Employment other time
— The church of Ahlden repaired by lier — Cut off from her children
— Sympathy of Ernest Augustus for his daughter-in-law — Her
lather's returning atlection for her — Opening prospects of the House
of Hanover — Lord ^lacclesfield's embassy to Hanover, and his
right-royal reception — Description of the Electrt-ss — Toland's de-
scription of Prince George Louis — AlagniMceut present to Lord
Macclesfield — The Princess Sophia and the English liturgy — Death
of the Duke of Zell — Visit of Prince George to his captive mother
prevented ...........
M CHAPTER X.
THE SUCCESSION DEATH OF THE ELECTRESS.
Marriage of Prince George to Princess Caroline of Anspach, and of his
sisier to the Crown Prince of Prussia — Honours conferred by Queen
Anne on Prince George — Intenrion to bring over to England the
CONTENTS OF
Princess Sophia — Opposed by Queen Anne — Foundation of the
Idugdom of Prussia — The establishment of this Protestant kingdom
promoted by the Jesuits — The I^lectress Sophia's visit to Loo —
The law granting taxes on birtlis. deaths, and marriages — Com-
plaint of Queen Anne againt^t the Electress — Tom D'L'rfey's
11:
CHAPTER XI.
AHLDEN AND ENGLAXD.
The neglected captive of Ahlden — Unnoticed by her son-in-law, except
to secure her property — Madame von der Schulenburg — The Queen
of Prussia prohibited from corresponding with her imprisoned mother
— The captive betrayed by Count de Bar — Death of Queen Anne —
Anxiety felt for the arrival of King George — The Duke of Marl-
borough's entry — Funeral of the Q.ueeu — Public entry of the King
— Adulation of Dr. Young— Madame Kielmansegge, the new royal
favourite — Horace Walpole's account of her — ' A Hanover garland '
— Ned Ward, the Tory poet — Expression of the public opinion —
The Duchess of Kendal bribed by Lord Bolingbroke — Bribery and
corruption general — Abhorrence of parade by the King . . .119
CHAPTER XII.
CROWN AND GKAVE.
Arrival of Caroline, Princess of Wales — Tlie King dines at the Guild-
hall — I'rocliimation of the Pretender — Counter-proclamations —
Government prosecutions — A mutiny among the troops — Impeach-
ment of the Duko of Ormond of high treason — Punishment of
political offenders — Failure of rebellion in Scotland — Punishment
for wearing oak-boughs — Riot at the mug-house in Salisbury
Court, and its fatal consequences — The Prince of Wales removed
from the palace — Dissensions between the King and the Prince —
Attempt on the life of King George— Marriage of the King's ille-
gitimate daughter — The South-Sea Bubble — Birth of Prince
William (Duke of Cumberland) — Death of the Duchess of Zell —
Stricter iraprisonmt>nt of the captive of Ahlden — Her calm death —
A new royal favourite, Mrs. Brett — Death of the King — The alleged
correspondence of Soplii.i Dorothea and Kiiiiigsmark . . . 1,'U)
THE FIRST VOLUME. xi
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA,
WIFE OF GEORGE II.
CHAPTER 1.
BEFORE THE ACCESSION.
PAGK
Birth of Princess Caroline — Her early married life — Eulogised by the
poets — Gaiety of the Court of the Prince and Princess at Leicester
House — Beauty of Miss Bellenden — Mrs. Howard, the Prince's
favourite — Intolerable grossness of the Court of George I. —
Lord Chesterfield and the Princess— The mad Duchess— Bucking-
ham House — Rural retreat of the Prince at Richmond ; the resort
of wit and beauty — Swift's pungent verses — The fortunes of the
young adventurers, Mr. and Mrs. Howard — The Queen at her
toilette — Mrs. Clayton, her influence with Queen Caroline — The
Prince ruled by his wife — Dr. Arbuthnot and Dean Swift — The
Princess's regard for Newton and Halley — Lord Macclesfield's fall
— His superstition, and that of the Princess — Prince Frederick's
vices — Not permitted to come to England — Severe rebufl" to Lord
Hardwicke— Dr. Mead — Courage of the Prince and Princess — The
Princess's friendship for Dr. Friend- Swift at Leicester House —
Royal visit to ' Bartlemy Fair ' 15;^
CHAPTER n.
THE FIRST TEAKS OF A REIGN.
Death of George I. — Adroitness of Sir Robert Walpole— The first
royal reception — L^nceremonious treatment of the late King's will
— The coronation — Magnificent dress of Queen Caroline — Mrs.
Oldfield, as Anne Boleyn, in < Henry VIIL' — The King's revenue
and the Queen's jointure, the result of Walpole's exertions — His
success — Management of the King by Queen Caroline- — Unseemlv
dialogue between Walpole and LordTownshend — Gay's 'Beggars'
Opera,' and satire on Walpole — Origin of the opera — Its great
success — Gav's cause espoused by the Duchess of Queensberry —
Her smart reply to a royal message — The tragedy of ' Frederick,
Duke of Brunswick' — The Queen appointed Regent — Prince
Frederick becomes chief of the opposition — His silly reflections
on the King — Agitation about the repeal of the Corporation and
Test Acts — The Queen's inefl'ectual efforts to gain over Bishop
Iloadly — Sir Robert extricates himself — The Church made the
scapegoat — Queen Caroline earnest about trifles — Etiquette of the
toilette — Frui^aa betwepu INIr. Howard and the Queen — Modest re-
quest of Mrs. Howard — Lord Chesterfield's description of her . 177
XI I CONTENTS OF
CHAPTER III.
THK MARRIAGE OF IHK PRINCESS ANNE.
PAGE
Violent opposition to the King by Triuce Frederick — Readings at
Windsor Castle— The Queen's patronage of Stephen Duck — His
melancholy end — Cxlance at passing events — Precipitate flight of
Dr. Nichols — Princess Anne's determination to get a husband —
Louis XV. proposed as a suitor : negotiation broken oft' — The Prince
.if Orange's oUer accepted — Ugly and deformed — The King and
(^ueen averse to the union — Dowry settled on the Princess — Anec-
dote of the Duchess of Marlborough — Rlness of the bridegroom —
Ceremonies attendant on the marriage — Mortification of the Queen
— The public nuptial chamber — Olfence given to the Irish peers —
— The Queen and Lady Sutlblk — Homage paid by the Princess to
her deformed husband — Discontent of Prince Frederick — His
anxiety not unnatural — Congratulatory addresses by the Lords and
Commons — Spirited conduct of the Queen — Lord Chesterfield —
Agitations on Walpole's celebrated Excise scheme — Lord Stair
delegated to remonstrate witli the Queen— Awkward performance
of liis mission — Sharply rebuked by the Queen — Details of the in-
terview — The Queen's success in overcoming the King's antipathy
to Walpole — Comments of the populace— Royal interview with a
bisliop ' . . . . l-'OO
CHAPTER IV.
KAMU-V AXl) NATIONAL t^UAUIiELS.
Keliicuie-nt ol' Lady Suflblk — Tact of Queen Caroline— Arrogance of
I'rince.^s .\nne — Private life of the royal family — The Count de
Ivoncy, the French refugee — German predilections of the Queen —
A scene at (!ourt — Queen Caroline's declining health — Ambitious
aspirations of Princess Anne — Bishop Hoadly and the see of Win-
chester — The Queen and the clergy — The Queen appointed Regent
— The King and Madame Walnioden — Lord Ilervey's imaginary
post-obit diary — Tiie (Queen's farewell interview with Lady Suffolk
— Grief made fashionable — The temper of the King on his return
— A scene : ihamniis pcrnufifi; the King, (iueen, and Lord
Ilervev — Lady Deloraini^ (Pope's Delia) a royal favourite — An
iingry scene between the King and (^ucen — Tlie King's opinion of
Iiifhu]) Ilondly — Di.s,sension between the King and I'rince — Tlie
royal libertine at Hanover — Court revels — Lady I'oliniibroke and
the Queeu i'2.'^
THE FIRST VOLUME. XIU
CHAPTER V.
THE MARBUGE OF FREDERICK, I'RINCE OF WALES.
VAOE
The Queeu's cleverness — Princess Augusta of Saxe Gotha, the
selected bride of Prince Frederick — Spirited conduct of Miss Vane,
the Prince's mistress — The King anxious for a matrimonial
alliance witli the Court of Prussia — Prussian intrigue to prevent
this — 'J'he Prussian inandaU for entrapping recruits — Quarrels and
challenge to duel, between King George and the Prussian monarch
— The silly duel prevented — Arrival of the bride — -The royal
lovers — Disgraceful squabbles of tlie Princes and Princesses — The
marriage — Brilliant assemblage in the bridal chamber — Lady
Diana Spencer proposed as a match for the Prince — Debut of Mr.
Pitt, afterwards Lord Chatham, in the House of Commons — Riot
of the footmen at Drury Lane Theatre — Ill-humour exhibited by
the Prince towards the Queen ....... 21 i2
CHAPTER VI.
AT HOME AND OVER THE WATER.
The Queen and Walpole govern the kingdom — The bishops reproved
by the Queen— Good ui.shes for the bishops entertained by the King
— Anecdote of Bishop Hare — Riots — An infernal machine — Wilson
the smuggler and the Porteous mob — General Moyle — Coldness of
the Queen for the King — Walpole advises her Majesty — Unworthy
conduct of Caroline and vice of her worthless husband — Que.stion-
able fidelity of Madame Walmoden — Conduct of the Princess at the
Chapel Royal — The Princess and her doll — Pasquinades, &c. on
the King — Farewell royal supper at Hanover — Dangerous voyage
of the King — Anxiety of the Court about him — Unjust blame
thrown on Admiral AVager — The Queen congratulates the Eng
on his escape — The King's warm reply — Discussions about the
Prince's revenue — Investigation into the affairs of the Porteous
mob — The Queen and the Bill for reduction of the National Debt
— Vice in high life universal — Represented on the stage, occasions
the censorship — .■\nimosity of the Queen and Princess towards
Prince Frederick .......... 282
CHAPTER VII.
THE BIRTH OF AN HEIRESS.
Ru.ssian invasion of the Crimea — Announcement of an heir disbe-
lieved by the Queen — The Princess of Wales conveyed to St.
Jame.s's bv the Prince in a state of labour — Birth of a Princess —
XIV COA'TEXTS OF
PAGK
Ilauipton Court Palace on this uiglit — The palace iu au uproar —
Indignation of Caroline — Reception of the Queen by the Prince —
.Minute particulars aflbrded her by him — Explanatory notes be-
tween the royal family — Message of the King — His severity to the
Prince — The Princess Amelia double-sided — Message of Princess
Caroline to the Prince — Unseemly conduct of the Prince — The
Prince an agreeable ' rattle ' — The Queen's anger never subsided
— Tiie Prince ejected from the palace — The Queen and Lord
Carteret — Keconciliation of the royal family attempted — Popu-
larity of the Prince — The Queen's outspoken opinion of the Prince
— An interview between the King, Queen, and Lord Hervey —
Bishop Sherlock and the Queen — The King a purchaser of lottery-
tickets 316
CHAPTER VIII.
DEATH OF CAKOLINE.
Indisposition of the Q.iieen — Pier anxiety to conceal the cause — "Wal-
pole closeted with her — Her illness assumes a grave character —
Obliged to retire from the Drawing-room — Affectionate attentions
of Princess Caroline — Continued bitter feeling towards the Prince —
Discussions of the physicians — The Queen takes leave of the Dulce of
Cumberland — Parting scene with the King — Interview with Wal-
pole — The Prince denied the palace — (h-eat patience of the Queen
— The Archbishop summoned to the palace — Eulogy on tlie
Queen pronounced by the King — His oddities — The Queen's ex-
emplary conduct — Iler death — Terror of Dr. Hulse — Singular
conduct of the King — Opposition to Sir II. Walpole — Lord
Chesterfield pays court to the Prince's favourite .... .'i.'.D
CHAPTER IX.
CAUOLINK, HER TIMKS AND COXTPnU'OHARIES.
Whi&ton patronised by Queen Caroline — His boldness and reproof of
the Queen — Vanity of the poet Young punished — Dr. Potter, a high
churchman — A benefice missed — Masquerades denounced by the
clergy — Anger of the Court — "Warburton, a favourite of the Queen
— Butler's 'Analogy,' her ordinary companion — Ilise of Seeker —
Tiie Queen's regard for Dr. Berkeley — Iler fondness for witnessing
intellectual struggles between Clarke and Leibnitz — Character (tf
(^ueen (.'aroline by Lord Chesterfield — The King encouraged in his
wickedness by the Queen — General grossness of manners — The
King managed by the Queen — Feeling exhibited by the King on
sight of her portrait — The Duchess of Brunswick's daughters —
.Standard of morality low — Ilidicule of Marlborough by Peter-
borough — Morality of (Jenernl Cadogan — Anecdote of (Jeneral
THE FIRST VOLUME. XV
PAGE
Webb — Lord Cobham — Dishonourable conduct of Lord Stair —
General PLiwley and his singular will— Disgraceful state of the
prisons, and cruelty to prisoners — Roads bad and ill-lighted —
Brutal punishment — Insolent treatment of a British naval officer
by the Sultan — Brutality of a mob — Encroachment on Hyde Park
by Queen Caroline — Ambitious projects of Princess Anne — Eulogy
on the Queen — The children of King George and Queen Caroline —
Verses on the Queen's death ........ oo9
CHAPTER X.
THE REION OF THE WIDOWER.
Success of Admiral Vernon — Royal visit to 'Bartlemy Fair'— Party-
spirit runs liigh about the King and Prince — Lady Pomfret— The
mad Duchess of Buckingham — Anecdote of Lady Sundon — Witty
remark of Lady Mary Wortley — Fracas at Kensington Palace — The
battle of Dettingen — A precocious child — Marriage of Princess
Mary — A new opposition — Prince George — Lady Yarmouth in-
stalled at Kensington — Death of Prince Frederick — Conduct of the
King on hearing of this event — Bubb Dodington's extravagant
grief — The funeral scant — Conduct of the widowed Princess — Op-
position of the Prince to the King not undignified — Jacobite
epitaph on the Prince — The Prince's rebuke for a frivolous jeer on
Lady Huntingdon — The Prince's patronage of literary men — Lady
Archibald LLamilton, the Prince's favourite — The Prince and the
Quakers — Anecdote of Prince George — Princely appreciation of
Ladv Huntinodon .......... oSO
CHAPTER XI.
THE LAST TEARS OF A REIGX.
J'rincess Augusta named Regent in the event of a minority — Cause of
the Prince's death — Death of the Prince of Orange — The King's
fondness for the theatre — Allusion to the King's age — Death of the
Queen of Denmark — Her married life unhappy — Suftered from a
similar cause with her mother — Rage of Lad}- Suftblk at a sermon
bv Whitfield — Lady Huntingdon insulted by her — AVar in Canada
— Daily life of the King — Establishments of the sons of Frederick
— Death of the truth-loving Princess Caroline — Deaths of Princess
Elizabeth and Princess Anne — Queen Caroline's rebuke of her —
Death of the Iving — Dr. Porteous's eulogistic epitaph on him —
The King's personal property — -The royal funeral — The biu'lesque
Duke of Newcastle ......... 408
XVI CChyTEAys OF THE FIRST VOLUME.
CllA HL TTE SOPHIA,
\\\VK OF GEORGE III.
CHAPTER I.
■IHI-: coMiNc; ov TH1-: uride.
I'Acii-:
i<!uly .Sarali Ia-uhux, the object of George III.'s early allectioDs
— The I'iiir (^)uaker — .Matrimonial commission of Colonel Graeme —
Priiicegs Charlotte of Mecklenburgh — Iler spirited letter to the
King of Prussia — Demanded in marriage by George III. —
Arrival in England — Her progress to London — Colchester and its
candied eringo-root — Entertained by Lord Aberconi — Arrival in
London, and reception — Claim of the Irish peeresses advocated by
Lord Charlemont — The royal marriage — The first Drawing-room
— A comic anecdote — 'l"he King and Queen at the Chapel Royal
— At the theatre ; accidents on the occasion — The corouation —
Incidents and anecdotes connected with it — The young Pretender
said to have been present — The coronation produced at the
theatre 423
CHAPTER II.
COURT AND CITY.
Tlie levee — The King goes to parliament — The first night of the opera —
Garrick grievously offended — The Iving and Queen present on the
Lord Mayor's Day — Entertained by Robert Barclay, the Quaker —
Banquet at Guildhall to the King and Queen — Popular entliu-
siasm for Mr. Pitt — Buckingham House purchased by the King for
(^ueen Charlotte — Defoe's account of it — The Duke of Bucking-
ham's description of it — West and his pictures — The hou.se de-
molished by George IV. — First illness of the King — Domestic life
of the King and Queen — Royal carriage — Selwyn's joke on the
royal frugality — Prince Charles of Strelitz — Costume — Gracel'ul
action of the Queen— Birth of Prince George .... 4U-J
CHAPTER III.
ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS.
Scenes, and per.M.nal sketches of (^ueen Charlotte — Her fondness for
diamonds- V'i>it to Mrs. Garrick — Orphan establishment at Bed-
ford foimded by tiie Queen — Her benevolence on the breaking of
th(! Windsor bank — Marriage of I'rincess Caroline Matilda — Un-
founded rumours about the Queen — Hannah Lightfoot — The
King's illnew.s — A Regency recommended by the King— Discus-
sions relative to it — Birth of Prince Frederick— Failing Health of
the Duke of Cumberland . . ' . -170
)(
LIVES
OF THE
QUEENS OF ENGLAND,
SOPHIA DOROTHEA, OF ZELL,
WIFE OF GEORGE I.
Das Glanzende ist uicht immer das Bessere.
KoTZEBUE, Binder Moritz.
CHAPTEE I.
GEORGE OF BRUNSWICK-ZELL AND ELEANORE d'OLBREUSE.
Woden, the father of the line of Brunswick — The seven brothers at dice, for
a wife — D'Esmiers d'Olbreuse and his daughter Eleonora — Love-pas-
sages, and a marriage — A Bishop of Osnaburgh — Birth of Sophia
Dorothea.
When George I. ascended the throne of England, the
heralds provided him with an ancestry. They pretended
that his Majesty, who had few god-like virtues of his
own, was descended from that deified hero Woden, whose
virtues, according to the bards, were all of a god-hke
quality. The two had little in common, save lack of true-
heartedness toward their wives.
The more modest builders of ancestral pride, who
ventured to water genealogical trees for all the branches
VOL. I, B
2 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
of Brunswick to bud upou, did not dig deeper for a root,
or 20 ilirther for a fountain liead, than into tlie Italian
soil of the year 1028. Even then, they found nothing
more or less noble than a certain Azon d'Este, Marquis of
Tuscany, who having little of sovereign about him, except
his will, joined the banner of the Emperor Conrad, and
hoped to make a fortune in Germany, either by cutting
throats, or by subduing hearts whose owners were heiresses
of unencumbered lands.
Azon espoused Cunegunda of Guelph, a lady who was
not only wealthy, but who was the last of her race. The
household was a happy one ; and when an heir to its
honours appeared in the person of Guelph d'Este the
Eobust, the court-poet who foretold brilliant fortunes for
his house failed to see the culminating brilliancy Avhich
awaited it in Britain.
This same Piince 'Eobust,' when he had come to
man's estate, wooed no maiden heiress as his father had
done, but won the widowed sister-in-law of our great
Harold, Judith, daughter of Baldwin de Lisle, Count of
Flanders, and widow of Tostic, Earl of Kent. He took
her by the liand while she was yet seated under the shadow
of her great sorrow, and, looking up at Guelph the Eobust,
she smiled and was comforted.
Guelph was less satisfactorily provided witli wealth
than the cornel}^ Judith ; but Guel[)h and Judith found
favour in the eyes of the Emperor Henry IV., who forth-
with ejected Othoof Saxony from his possessions in Bavaria,
and conferred the same, with a long list of rights and
ai)purtenances, on the newly-married couple.
These possessions were lost to tlie iamily Ijy the
rebellion of Guelph's great-grandson against Frederick
Jiarban^ssa. Tiie disinherited prince, however, found
fortune again, by help of a marriage and an English king.
He Jiad l)een pieviously united to Maud, the daughter of
SOPHIA DOROTHEA.
Henry II., and liis royal father-in-law took unwearied
pains to find gome one who could afford him material
assistance. He succeeded, and Guelph received, from
another emperor, the gift of the countships of Brunswick
and Luneburg. Otho IV. raised them to duchies, and
William (Guelph) was the first duke of the united posses-
sions, about the year 1200.
The early dukes were for the most part warlike, but
their bravery was rather of a rash and excitable character
than heroically, yet calmly firm. Some of them were
remarkable for their unhappy tempers, and they acquired
names which unpleasantly distinguish them in this respect.
Henry was not only called the ' young,' from his years,
and 'the black,' from his swarthiness, but 'the dog,'
because of his snarling propensities. So Magnus, who was
surnamed ' the collared,' in allusion to the gold chain which
hung from his buU neck, was also known as the ' insolent '
and the ' violent,' from the circumstance that he was ever
either insufferably haughty or insanely passionate.
The House of Brunswick has, at various times, been
divided into the branches of Brunswick-Luneburg, Bruns-
wick- Wolfenbiittel , Brunswick-Zell , Brunswick-Danneberg,
&c. These divisions have arisen from marriages, transfers,
and interchanges. The first duke who created a division
was Duke Bernard, who, early in the fifteenth century,
exchanged with a kinsman his duchy of Brunswick for
that of Luneburg, and so founded the branch which bears,
or bore, that double name.
The sixteenth duke, Otho, was the first who is sup-
posed to have brought a blot upon the ducal scutcheon, by
honestly marrying rather according to his heart than his
interests. His wife was a simple lady of Brunswick, named
Matilda de Campen. It became the common object of all
the dukes of the various Brunswick branches to increase
B 2
4 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
the i'.nportaiice of a liouse wliicli luid contributed something
to the imperial greatness of Germany. They endeavoured
to accomplish this common object by intermarriages ; but
the desired consummation was not achieved until a com-
paratively recent period, when the branch of Brunswick-
Luneburg became Electors, and subsequently Kings of
Hanover, and that of Brunswick- Wolfenbiittel, Sovereign
Dukes of Brunswick.
The grandfather of our George I., William, Duke of
Bnuiswick-Luneburg, had seven sons, and all tliese were
dukes, like their father. On the decease of tlie latter,
they affected to discover that if the seven heirs, each
with his little dukedom, were to marry, the greatness of
the house would suffer alarming diminution. They
accordingly determined that one alone of the brothers
should form a legal matrimonial connection, and that the
naming of the lucky re-founder of the dignity of Bruns-
Avick should be left to chance !
The seven brothers met in the hall of state in their
deceased father's mansion, and there threw dice as to wlio
should live on in single blessedness, and which should
gain the prize, not of a wife, but of permission to find
one. ' Double sixes ' were thrown by George, the sixth
son. The lady whom he cavalierly wooed and readily
won, was "Anne Eleanore, daughter of the Landgraf of
Ilesse-Darmstadt.
The heir-a})parent of this marriage was Frederick
Ernest Augustus, who, in 1659, married Sophia, the
daughter of Frederick and Ehzal^eth, the short-lived
King and Queen of Bohemia ; the latter the daughter of
James I. The eldest cliild of this last marriage was
Getjrge L(juis, wlio ultimately became King of Great
l^ritain.
When Louis XIV. revoked the Edict of Nantes, the
French Protestants who refused to be converted were
SOPHIA DOROTHEA, 5
executed or imprisoned. Some found safety, with suffering,
in exile ; and confiscation made l)eggars of thousands.
When towns, wdiere tlie Protestants were in the majority,
exhibited tardiness in coming over to the king's way of
thinking, dragoons were ordered thither, and this order
was of such significance, that when it w^as made known,
the population, to escape massacre, usually professed
recantation of error in a mass. This daily accession of
thousands who made abjuration under the sword, and
walked thence to confession and reception of the Sacra-
ment under an implied form in which they had no faith,
was described to the willingly duped king by the idira-
monfane bishops as a miracle as astounding as any in
Scripture.
Of some few individuals, places at court for them-
selves, commissions for their sons, or honours which
sometimes little deserved the name, for their daughters,
made-, if not converts, hypocrites. Far greater was the
number of the good and faithful servants who left all and
followed their Master. Alexander D'Esmiers, Seigneur
D'Olbreuse, a gallant Protestant gentleman of Poitou,
preferred exile and loss of estate to apostacy. When he
crossed the frontier, a banished man, he brought small
w^orldly wealth with him, but therewith one child, a
daughter, who was to him above all wealth ; and, to
uphold his dignity, the memory of being descended from
the gallant Pulques D'Esmiers, the valiant and courteous
Lord of Lolbroire.
Father and daughter sojourned for a time beyond the
northern frontier of the kingdom, having their native
country within sight. There they tabernacled in much
sorrow, perplexity, and poverty, but friends ultimately
supplied them with funds ; and M. D'Esmiers, Seigneur
D'Olbreuse, found himself in a condition to appear in
Brussels without sacrifice of dignity. Into the gay circles
6 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
of that gay city lie led his daughter Eleanora, who was
met by warm homage from the gallants, and much
criticism at the hands of her intimate friends — the ladies.
The sharpest criticism could not deny her beauty ;
and her wit and accomplishments won for her the respect
and homage of those whose allegiance was better worth
having than that of mere jpeiiU maitres with their
stereotyped flattery. Eleanora, like the lady in Gothe's
tragedy, loved the society and the good opinion of wise
men, while she hardly thought herself worthy of either.
She was a Frenchwoman, and consequently she was not
out of love Avith gaiety. Slie was the fairest and the
liveliest in the train of the brilliant Duchess of Tarento,
and she was following and eclipsing her noble patroness
at a ball, when she was first seen by George William,
second son of George, Duke of Brunswick-Luneburg,
and heir to the pocket but sovereign dukedom of Zell.
The heir of Zell became an honest wooer. lie whose
gallant ry luid been liitherto remarkable for its dragooning
tone, was now more subdued than Cymon in the subduing
presence of Iphigenia. He had hated conversation,
because he was incapable of sustaining it ; but now love
made him eloquent. lie had abhorred study, and knew
little of any other language than his own ; but now he
took to French vocabularies and dictionaries, and Ions
before he had got so far as to ask Eleanora to hear him
conjugate the verb aimer ' to love,' he apphed to her to
interpret the difficult passages he met with in books ; and
throughout long summer days the graceful pair might
have been seen sitting together, book in hand, fully as
ha[)j)y ,111(1 twice as hopeful as Paolo and Francesca.
George WilHam was sorely puzzled as to his pro-
ceedings. To marriage he could have condescended with
alacrity, but unfortunately there was 'a promise in bar.'
With the view romiiion to many co-heirs of the family,
SOPHIA DOROTHEA. 7
he had entered into an engagement with his brother
Ernest Augustus, of Brunswick-Luneburg, and Bishop of
Osnaburgli, never to marry. This concession had been
purchased at a certain cost, and the end in view was the
further enlargement of the dominions and influence of
the House of Brunswick. If George Wilham should not
only succeed to Zell, but should leave the same to a
legitimate heir, that was a case which Ernest Augustus
would be disposed to look upon as a grievous wrong. A
price was paid, therefore, for the promised celibacy of his
brother, and that brother was now actively engaged in
meditating as to how he might, without disgrace, break a
promise, and yet retain the money by which it had been
purchased. His heart leaped within him as he thought
how easily the whole matter might be arranged by a
morganatic marriage — a marriage, in other words, with
the left hand ; an union sanctioned by the church but so
far disallowed by the law that the children of such wed-
lock were, in technical terms, infantes nullius^ ' children
of nobody,' and could of course succeed to nobody's in-
heritance.
George William waited on the Seigneur d'Olbreuse with
his morganatic offer : the poor refugee noble entertained the
terms with much complacency, but left his child to deter-
mine on a point which involved such serious considerations
for herself. They were accordingly placed with much
respect at Eleanora's feet, but she mused angrily thereon.
She would not listen to the offer.
In the meantime, these love -passages of young George
William were productive of much unseemly mirth at Han-
over, where the Bishop of Osnaburgli was keeping a not very
decorous court. He was much more of a dragoon than a
bishop, and indeed his flock wei'e more to be pitied than
his soldiers. The diocese of Osnaburgh was supplied with
bishops by the most curious of rules ; the rule was fixed
8 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
at tlie period of the peace which followed the religious
wars of Germany, and this rule was, that as Osnaburgh
was very nearly divided as to the number of those who
followed either church, it should have alternately a Pro-
testant and a Romanist bishop. The result has been that
Osnaburgh has had sad scapegraces for her prelates, but
yet, in spite thereof, has maintained a religious respecta-
bility which might be envied by dioceses blessed with two
diverse bishops at once, for ever anathematising the flocks
of each other and their shepherds.
The Protestant Prince-Bishop of Osnaburgh made
merry with his ladies at the wooing of his honest and
sinfjle-minded brother, whom he wounded to the uttermost
by scornfully speaking of Eleanora d'Olbreuse as the duke's
' Madame! It was a sorry and unmanly joke, for it lacked
wit, and insulted a true-hearted woman. But it had the
effect also of arousing a true-hearted man.
George William had now succeeded to the little duke-
dom of Zell, not indeed without difficulty, for as tlie ducal
chair had become vacant while the next heir was absent,
paying homage at Brussels to a lady rather than receiving
it from his lieges in Zell, his younger brother, John Fred-
erick, liad played his lord-suzeraine a shabb}^ trick, by
seating himself in that chair, and fixing the ducal parcel-
gilt coronet on his own brows.
George William having toppled down the usurper from
his ill-earned elevation, and having bought off further
treason by ])ensioning the traitor, returned to Brussels with
a renewal of his former offer. He added weight thereto
by the intimation, that if a morganatic marriage were
consented to now, he had hopes, by the favour of the
emperor, to consolidate it at a subsequent period by a
legal public union, whereat Eleanora d'Olbreuse should be
recognised Duchess of Zell, without chance of that proud
title ever being disputed.
SOPHIA DOROTHEA. 9
Tliereiipon a family council was holden. The poor
father thought a morcranatic marriaEje micfht be entered
upon Avithout ' derogation ; ' au reste^ he left all to his
daughter's love, fihal and otherwise. Eleanora did not
disappoint either sire or suitor by her decision. She made
the first happy by her obedience, her lover by her gentle
concession ; and she espoused the ardent duke, with the
left hand, because her father advised it, her lover urged
it, and the council and the suit were agreeable to the lady,
who professed to be influenced by them to do that for
which her own heart was guide and warrant.
The marriage was solemnised in the month of Septem-
ber, 1665, the bride being then in the twenty-sixth year
of her age. With her new position, she assumed the name
and style of Lady von Harburg, from an estate of the
duke's so called. The Bishop of Osnaburgh was merrier
than ever at what he styled tlie mock marriage, and more
unmanly than ever in the coarse jokes he flung at the Lady
of Harburg. But even this marriage was not concluded
without fresh concessions made by the duke to the bishop,
in order to secure to the latter an undivided inheritance of
Brunswick, Hanover, and Zell. His mirth was founded
on the idea that he had provided for himself and his lieirs,
and left the children of his brother, should any be born,
and these survive him, to nourish their left-handed dignity
on the smallest possible means. The first heiress to such
dignity, and to much heart-crushing and undeserved sor-
row, soon appeared to gladden for a brief season, to sadden
for long and weary years, the hearts of her parents.
Sophia Dorothea was born on the 15th of September, 1666.
Her birth was hailed with more than ordinary joy in the
little court of her parents : at that of the bishop it was
productive of some mirtli and a few bad epigrams. The
bishop had taken provident care that neitlier heir nor
heiress should affect his succession to what sliould have
lO LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
been their own inheritance, and, simply lookincj upon
Sopliia Dorotliea as a cliild whose existence did not
menace a diminution of the prospective greatness of his
house, he tolerated the same with an ineffable, gracious
condescension.
1 1
CHAPTER II.
WIVES AND FAVOURITES.
A ducal household — Elevation in rank of the mother of Sophia Dorothea —
Births and deaths — A lover for Sophia — The Bishop of Osnaburgh an
imitator of the Grmid Monarque — Tvfo successful female adventurers at
Osnaburgh.
Such a household as the one maintained in sober happi-
ness and freedom from anxiety by the duke and his wife
was a rare sight in German courts. The duke was broadly
ridiculed because of his ftiithful affection for one who was
worthy of all the truth and esteem which a true-hearted wife
could claim. The only fault ever brought by the bitterest
of the enemies of the wife of the Duke of Zell against
that unexceptionable lady was, that she was over-fond of
nominating natives of France to little places in her hus-
band's little court. Considering that the Germans, wlio
looked upon her as an intruder, would not recognise her
as having become naturalised by marriage, it is hardly to
be wondered at that she gathered as much of France
around her as she could assemble in another land.
Three other children were the fruit of this marriage,
whose early deaths were deplored as so many calamities.
Their mother lived long enough to deplore that Sophia
Dorothea had survived them. The merits of the mother
won, as they deserved to do, increase of esteem and affec-
tion on the part of the duke. His most natural wish was
to raise her to a rank equal to his own, as far as a mere
name could make assertion of such equality. It was
12 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
tlioiiiilit a wonderful act of condescension on the part of
the emperor, tliat lie gave his ini})erial sanction to the
elevation of the Lady of Harbiirg to ihe rank and title of
Countess of Wilhc^lmsburg.
The Bishop of Osnaburgh was harder to treat with
than the emperor. He bound down his brother by
stringent engagements, solemnly engrossed in lengthy
phrases, guarding against all mistake by horribly technical
tautoloo'v, to aszree that the encirclin" his wife with the
coronet of a countess bestowed upon her no legal i-ights,
and conferred no shadow of legitimacy, in the eye of the
law, on the children of the marriage, actual or prospective.
For such children, modest j^et sufficient provision was
secured ; but they were never to dream of claiming cousin-
ship with the alleged better-born descendants of Henry the
Dos, or Mac^nus the Irascible.
Duke George William, however, was resolved not to
rest until his wife should also be his duchess. He ap-
pealed to the Estates of Germany. The Estates thought
long and adjourned often before they came to a tardy
and reluctant conclusion, by which the boon sought was
at length conceded. The em]:)eror added his consent.
The concession made by the Estates, and the sanction
su})eradded by the emperor, were, however, only ob-
tained upon the military bishop withholding all opposition.
The princely prelate was, in foct, bougiit ofl'. Again
his muniment-box was unlocked ; once more he and his
.stall' of lawyers were deep in parchments, and curious in
the geography of territorial maps and plans. The result
of much dry labour and heavy speculation was an agree-
ment entered into by the two l)rotheis. The Duke of
Zell contracted that the children of his marriage with the
daughter of the Poitevin seigneur should inherit only
Iiis private j)roperty, and the empty title of Counts, or
Countesses, of Wilhelinshurg. Tlie tei-ritory of Zell
SOPHIA DOROTHEA. I 3
with other estates added to the sovereign dukedom were
to pass to tlie prince-bishop or his heirs. On these terms
Eleanora of Olbreuse, Lady of Harburg, and Countess of
Wilhehnsburg, became Duchess of Zell.
' Ah ! ' exclaimed the very apostohc bishop to the dis-
solute disciples at his court, on the night that the family
compact was made an accomplished ftict, ' my brother's
French Madame is not a jot the more his wife for being
duchess ' — which was true, for married is married,
and there is no comparative degree of intensity which
can be applied to the circumstance. ' But she has a
dignity the more, and therewith may Madame rest con-
tent ' — which was not true, for no new title could add
dignity to a woman like the wife of Duke George
William.
When k^ophia Dorothea was but seven years old, she
had for an occasional playfellow in the galleries and
gardens of Zell and Calenberg, a handsome lad, Swedish
by birth, but German by descent, whose name was Philip
Christopher von Konigsmark. He was a few years older
than Sophia Dorothea (some accounts say ten years older),
and he was in Zell for the purpose of education, and he
fulfilled the office of page. Many of his vacation hours
were spent with the child of George William, who was
his ftitlier's friend. When gossips saw the two hand-
some children, buoyant of spirit, beaming with health,
and ignorant of care, playing hand in hand at sports
natural to their age, those gossips prophesied of future
marriage. But their speculation had soon no food
whereon to live, for the young Konigsmark was speedily
withdrawn from Zell, and Sophia bloomed on alone, or
with other companions, good, graceful, fair, accomplished,
and supremely happy.
But, even daughter as she was of a left-handed mar-
riage, there was hanging to her name a dower sufficiently
1 4 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
costly to dazzle and allure even princely suitors. To one
of these she was betrothed before she .was ten years old.
The suitor was a soldier and a prince. Augustus
Frederick, Crown Prince of Brunswiek-Wolfenbiittel,
was allured by the ' beaux yeux de la casette ' of the
little heiress, which contained, after all, only one hun-
dred thousand thalers, fifteen thousand pounds sterling ;
but an humble dower for a duke's only daughter. In
the meantime the affianced lover had to prove himself, by
force of arms, worthy of his lady and her fortune. To
the siege of Philipsburg, in the year 167 6, repaired the
chivalrous Augustus of Brunswick- Wolfenbiittel. He
bore himself with a dignity and daring which entitled
him to respect, but a fatal bullet slew him suddenly : a
brief notice in a despatch was his soldierly requiem, and
when the affianced child-bride was solemnly informed by
circumstance of Hof-Marshal that her lord was slain and
her heart was free, she was too young to be sorry, and
too unconscious to be glad.
Meanwhile, the two courts of the Bishop of Osna-
burgh and the Duke of Zell continued to present a
striking contrast. The bishop was one of those men
who think themselves nothing unless they are imitating
some greater man, not in his virtues but his vices.
There was one man in Europe whom Ernest Augustus
described as a ' paragon,' and that distinguished personage
was Louis XIV. The vices, extravagance, the pomposity
of the great king, were the dear delights of the Httle
prince. As Louis neglected his wife, so Ernest Augustus
disregarded his. Fortunately, Sophia, the wife of the
latter, had resources in her mind, wliich made her con-
sider with exemplary indifference the faithlessness of her
lord.
At this court of Hanover, two sisters, Catherine and
Elizabeth von Meisenbuch, had, for some time, set the
SOPHIA DOROTHEA. 1 5
fashion of a witchery of costume, remarkable for its taste,
and sometimes for outraging it. They possessed, too, the
great talent of Madame de Sillery Genlis, and were in-
imitable in their ability and success in getting up little
fetes.^ at home or abroad, in the salon or al fresco —
formal and full-dressed, or rustic and easy — where major-
generals were costumed as agricultural swains, and ladies
of honour as nymphs or dairymaids, with costumes rural
of fashioning, but as resplendent and costly as silkman
and jeweller could make them. At a sort of Masque, in-
vented by the sisters von Meisenbuch, one appeared as
Diana, the other as Bellona, and they captivated all
hearts, from those of the prince-bishop and his son to
that of the humblest aspirant in the court circle.
These young ladies came to court to push their
fortunes. They hoped in some way to serve the sovereign
bishop ; or, failing him, to be agreeable to' his lieir,
George Louis (afterwards George I. of England). But
even tliis prince, a little and not an attractive person, to
say nothing of the bishop, seemed for a time a flight
above tliem. They could wait a new opportunity ; for
as for defeat in their aspirations, they would not think
of it. They had the immense power of those persons who
are possessed by one single idea, and who are under
irresistible compulsion to carry it out to reality. They
could not all at once reach the prince-bishop or his heir,
and accordiiigly they directed the full force of their
enchantments at two very unromantie-looking personages,
the private tutors of the young princes of Hanover. The
ladies were soon mighty at Greek particles, learned in the
aorists, fluent on the digamma, and familiar with the
mysteries of the differential calculus.
Catherine and Elizabeth von Meisenbuch opened a
new grammar before their learned pundits, the Herrn
von Busche and von Platen (the latter was of a noble
1 6 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
and ancient house) ; and truth to tell, the philoso|)hers
^vel•e nothing lolh to pursue the new study tauglit by-
such professors. ^V^lcll this educational course had come
to a close, the public recognised at once its aim, quality,
and etfects, by learning that the sage preceptors had
actually married two of the liveliest aud lightest-footed
of girls who had ever danced a hranle at the balls in
Brunswick. The wives, on first appearing in public after
their marriage, looked radiant with joy. The tutors wore
about them an ah' of constraint, as if they thought the
world needed an a})ology, by way of explaining how two
Elders had permitted themselves to be vanquished by a
brace of Susannas. Their ideas were evidently confused,
but they took courage as people cheerfully laughed, though
they may have lost it again on discovering that tliey had
been drawn into matrimony by two gracefully-graceless
nymphs, whose sole object was to use theu' spouses as
stepping-stones to a higher greatness.
There must have been many attendant advantages in
connection with such an object, or the two mariied phi-
losophers would hardly have worn the air of content
which they put on as soon as they saw the aim of their
estimable wives, and felt the gain thence accruing.
Elizabeth von Meisenbuch, the wife of von Platen,
was the true mistress of the situation. Von Platen,
principally through her intrigues, had been ai)})ointed
prime-minister of the sovereign bishop. The time passed
by von Platen with his sovereign master aflorded him
ample leisure to talk of his wife, praise her i)olitical
abilities, and over-eulogise her. The prince-bishop felt
his curiosity excited to study more nearly tliis jihoenix of
a woman. It was, thereibre, the most natural of con-
sequences that von Platen should lead his lady to his
master's feet, though it perhaps was not so natural that
he should leave her there to ' improve ' the position thus
reached.
SOPHIA DOROTHEA. 17
Tlie lady lost no time in justifying all that her hus-
band had advanced in warranty of her talent, skill, and
willingness to use them for the advantage of the bishop
and his dominions ; the powerful prelate was enchanted
with her — enchanted with her in every sense. To sum
up all, Madame von Platen became the mistress of her
husband's master ; and her sister, who had given her
hand to von Busche, gave herself body and soul to the
bishop's son, George Louis. This arrangement seemed
in no way to disturb the equanimity of the bishop's
wife, the prince's mother.
VOL. I.
1 8 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
CHAPTER III.
THE BRUNSWICKER IN ENGLAND.
rrinco Aupustus of "NVolfenLiittel, the accepted lover of Sophia — Superstition
of the Duke of Zell — Intrigues of Madame von Platen — A rival lover — •
Prince George Louis : makes an offer of marriage to Princess Anne —
Policy of the Prince of Orange — Prince George in England : festivities
on account of his visit — Execution of Lord Stafford — Illness of Prince
Rupert — The Pill of Exclusion, and the Duke of York at Holyrood —
Probable succession of the House of Brunswick — Prince George recalled
— Successful intrigues of Sophia, wife of Ernest — A group for an artist —
Ill-fated marriage of Sophia — Elizabeth, Queen of Bohemia — 'Goody
Palsgrave ' — The Electress Sophia, and her intellectual skirmishes.
WiliLE all was loose and lively at the court of the bishop,
the daily routine of simple pleasures and duties alone
marked the course of events at the modest court of the
Duke of Zell. The monotony of the latter locality was,
however, agreeably interrupted by the arrival there of his
Serene Highness Prince Augustus William of Wolfen-
blittel. He had just been edified by what he had
witnessed during his brief sojourn in tlie episcopal circle
of Osnaburgh, where lie had seen two ladies exercising a
double influence, Madame von Platen ruling her husband
and his master, while her sister Caroline von Busche was
equally obeyed by her consort and his Highness Geoi'ge
Louis, the bishop's son.
Prince Augustus of Wolfenbiittel was the brother of
that early suitor of the little Sophia Dorothea who had
met a soldier's death at the siege of P]iilipsl)urg. He
was, like his brother, not so rich in gold pieces as in good
qualities, and was more wealthy in virtues than in acres.
SOPHIA DOROTHEA. 19
He was a bachelor prince, with a strong inchnation to lay
down his bachelorship at the feet of a lady who would,
by addition of her dowry, increase the greatness and
material comforts of both. Not that Augustus of Wolfen-
blittel was mercenary ; he was simply prudent. A little
princely state in Germany costs a great deal to maintain,
and when the errant prince went forth in search of a lady
with a dower, his last thought w^as to offer himself to one
who had no heart or could have no place in his own.
If there was some system, a little method, and an air of
business about the passion and principle of the puissant
Prince Augustus, something thereof must be laid to the
charge of the times, and a little to the princely matter-of-
fact good sense : he is a wise and mercifiil man who,
before he comes to conclusions with a lady on the chapter
of matrimony, first weighs prospects, and establishes, as
ftir as in him lies, a security of sunshine,
Augustus Wolfenblittel had long suspected that the
sun of his future home was to be found at Zell, and in the
person of his young cousin Sophia Dorothea, Even yet,
tradition exists among Brunswick maidens as to the love-
passages of this accomplished and handsome young couple.
Those passages have been enlarged for the purposes of
romance writers, but divested of all exaggeration there
I'emains enough to prove, as touching this pair, that they
were well assorted both as to mind and person ; that
their inclinations were towards each other ; and that they
were worthy of a better fate than that which fell upon
the honest and warm affection which reigned in the hearts
of both.
The love of these cousins was not the less ardent for
the fact of its being partially discouraged. The Duke of
Zell looked upon the purpose of Prince Augustus with an
unfavourable eye. The simple-minded duke had an un-
feigned superstitious awe of the new lover ; and the idea
c2
20 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF- ENGLAND.
of conseutim:: to a match under the circumstances as they
presented themselves, seemed to him tantamount to a
species of sacrilege, outraging the mams and memory of
the defunct brother. The duke loved his daughter, and
the daughter assuredly loved Augustus of Wolfenbiittel ;
and, added thereto, the good Duchess Eleanora was quite
disposed to see the cherished union accomplished, and to
bestow her benediction upon the well-favoured pair. The
father was influenced, however, by his extensive reading
in old legendary ballad-lore, metrical and melancholy
German romances, the commonest incident in which is the
interruption of a marriage ceremony by a spiritual person-
age professing priority of right.
The opposition to the marriage was not, however, all
surmounted when the antagonism of the duke had been
successfully overcome. Madame von Platen has the credit
of having carried out her opposition to the match to a very
successful issue.
It is asserted of this clever lady, that she was the first
who caused the Bishop of Osnaburgh thoroughly to com-
prehend that Sophia Dorothea would form a very desirable
match for his son George Louis. The young lady had
lands settled on her which might as well be added to the
territory of that electoral Hanover of which the prince-
bishop was soon to be the head. Every acre added to the
possessions of the chief of the family would be by so much
an increase of dignity, and little sacrifices were worth
making to effect great and profitable results. The worthy
pair, bishop and female prime-minister, immediately pro-
ceeded to employ every conceivable engine whereby they
might destroy the fortress of the hopes of Sophia Dorothea
and Augustus of Wolfenbiittel. They cared for nothing,
save that the hand of the former should be conferred
u[)on tlie l)islio[)'s eldest son, George Louis, who Jiad as
little desire to l)e matciu'd witli his cousin, or his cousin
SOPHIA DOROTHEA _ 21
with him, as kinsfolk can have who cordially detest each
other,
George Louis was not shaped for a lover. He was
mean in person and in character. George was brave
indeed ; to none of the princes of the House of Brunswick
can be denied the possession of bravery. In all the bloody
and useless wars of the period, lie had distinguished him-
self by his dauntless courage and his cool self-possession.
He was not heroic, but he really looked heroic at the
head of his squadron, charging across the battle-field, and
carrying his sword and his fringed and feathered hat into
the very thickest of the fray. He did not fail, it may be
added, in one of the characteristics of bravery, liumanity
on the field. For a wounded foe he had a thorough
respect. Out of the field of battle George Louis was (ui
extremely oixlinary personage, except in his vices. He wns
coarsely minded and coarsely spoken, and his profligacy
was so extreme of character — it bore about it so little of
what Lord Chesterfield recommended when he said a man
might be gentlemanlike even in his vices — that the bishop,
easy as he was both as parent and prelate, and rich as he
was himself in evil example to a son who needed no such
warrant to plunge headlong into sin — even the bisho[)
felt uncomfortable for awhile. He thouglit, however,
tliat marriage would cure profligacy.
George Louis was now in his twenty-second year. He
was born in 1660, and he had recently acquired increase
of importance from the fact of his sire having succeeded to
the estates, grandeur, and expectations of his predecessor,
Duke John Frederick. The latter was on his way to
Home, in 1679, a city which he much loved, holding in
respect a good portion of what is taught there. He was
proceeding thither with a view of a little more of pleasure
and something therewith of instruction, when a sudden
attack of illness carried him ofl'; and his death excited as
22 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
much grief in tlie bishop as it ])Ossibly could in one who
had Uttle reverence for tlie duke, by whose death he
profited largely.
When the bishop (now Duke Ernest Augustus, of
Hanover), as a natural consequence of this death, esta-
blished a gayer court at Hanover than had ever yet been
seen there, and had raised George Louis to the rank of a
' Crown Prince ' — a title given to many heirs who could
inherit nothing but coronets — the last-named individual
began to consider speculatively as to what royal lady he
might, with greatest prospect of advantage to himself, make
offer of his hand.
At this time Charles 11. was King in England. The
King's brother, James, Duke of York, had a daughter,
' Lady Anne,' who is better known to us all b}' her after-
title of ' good Queen Anne.' In the year 1680, George
of Hanover came over to England with matrimonial views
respecting that j^oung princess. He had on his way visited
William of Orange, at the Hague ; and when that calcu-
lating prince was made the confidential depository of the
views of George Louis respecting the Princess Anne of
England, he listened with much complacency, but is sus-
pected of having forthwith set on foot the series of intrigues
which, helped forward by Madame von Platen, ended in
the recall of George from England, and in his hapless
marriage with the more hapless Sophia Dorothea.
George of Hanover left the Hague with the con-
viction that he had a friend in William ; but William was
no abettor of marriages with the Princess Anne, and
least of all could he wish success to the hereditary prince
of Hanover, whose union with one of the heiresses of the
British throne might, under certain contingencies, miser-
ably mar his own prospects. The Sidney Diary fixes the
arrival of George liOuis at Greenwich on the Gtli of
December, 1G80. On the 29th of the month, Viscount
SOPHIA DOROTHEA. 23
Stafford was beheaded on Tower Ilill, and at this hvely
spectacle George of Hanover was probably present, for on
the 30th of the niontli he sends a long letter to her Serene
Highness, his mother, stating that ' they cut off the
head of Lord Stafford yesterday, and made no more ado
about it than if they had chopped off the head of a
pullet.' In this letter, the Aviiter enters into details of
the incidents of his reception in England. The tenor
of his epistle is, that he remained one whole day at
anchor at ' Grunnwitsch ' (which is his reading of Green-
wich) while his secretary, Mr. Beck, went ashore to look
for a house for him, and find out his uncle Prince Eupert.
Scant ceremony was displayed, it would appear, to render
hospitable welcome to such a visitor. Hospitahty, how-
ever, was not altogether lacking. The zealous Beck
found out ' Uncle Eobert,' as the prince ungermanises
Eupert, and the uncle, having little of his own to offer to
his nephew, straightway announced to Charles H. the
circumstance that the princely lover of his niece was
lying in the mud off Grunnwitsch. ' His Majesty,' says
George Louis, ' immediately ordered them apartments
at Writhall ' — and he then proceeds to state that he had
not been there above two hours when Lord Hamilton
arrived to conduct him to the King, who received him
most obhgingly. He then adds, ' Prince Robert had pre-
ceded me, and was at Court when I saluted King Charles.
In making my obeisance to the King, I did not omit to
give him the letter of your Serene Highness ; after which
he spoke of your Highness, and said that he " remem-
bered you very well." When he had talked ^vith me
some time, he went to the Queen, and as soon as I
arrived, he made me kiss the hem of her Majesty's pet-
ticoat. The next day I saw the Princess of York (tlie
Lady Anne), and I saluted her by kissing her, with the
consent of the King. The day after I went to visit Prince
24 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
Itohert^ wlio received me in bed, for lie has a malady in Ids
leg, which makes him very often keep his bed. It ap-
pears that it is so, without any pretext, and he has to take
care of himself. He had not failed of coming to see me
one day. All the lords come to see me, sans pretendre
la main chez moi ' (probably, rather meaning without
ceremony, without kissing hands, than, as has been sug-
gested, that ' they came without venturing to shake hands
Avitli him ').
Cold and deaf did the Princess Anne remain to the
suit of the Hanoverian wooer. The suit, indeed, was not
])ressed by any sanction of the lad3''s father, who, during
the three months' sojourn of George Louis in England,
remained in rather secluded state at Holyrood. Neither
was the suit opposed by James. James was troubled but
little touching the suitor of his daughter. He had per-
sonal troubles enough of his own wherewith to be con-
cerned, and therewith sundry annoyances.
Among the ' celebrations ' of the visit of George Louis
to this country, was the pomp of the ceremony which
welcomed him to Cambridge. Never had the groves or
stream of Cam been made vocal by the echoes of such
laudation as was given and taken on this solemnly hilarious
occasion. There was much feasting, which included very
much drinking, and much expenditure of heavy com-
pliment in very light Latin. George and his trio of fol-
lowers were made doctors of law by the scholastic au-
thorities. The honour, however, was hardly more ap-
j)ropriate than when a similar one was conferred, in after
years, upon Blucher and the celebrated artillery officer,
Gneisenau. ' Ah ! ' exclaimed the veteran leader, ' they
are going to make me a doctor ; but it was Gneisenau
that furnished all the pills.'
That parliament was convened at Oxford whereby
there was, as Evelyn remarks, 'great expectation of his
Koyal Highness's cause, as, to the succession against which
SOPHIA DOROTHEA. 2$
the lioiise was set,' and therewith there was, according to
the same diarist, ' an extraordinary sharp, cold spring,
not yet a leaf upon the trees, frost and snow lying while
the whole nation was in the greatest ferment.' Sucli was
the parliament, and such the spring, when George Louis
was suddenly called home. He was highly interested in
the bill, which was read a first time at that parliament,
as also in the ' expedients ' which were proposed in lieu
of such bill, and rejected. The expedients proposed
instead of the Bill of Exclusion in this parhament, were
that the wliole government, upon the death of Charles II.,
should be vested in a regent, the Princess of Orange, and
if she died without issue, then the Princess Anne sliould be
regent. But if James, Duke of York, should have a son
educated a Protestant, then the regency should last no
longer than his minorit}^, and that the regent sliould
govern in the name of the father while he lived ; but that
the father should be obliged to reside live hundred miles
fi'om the British dominions ; and if the duke sliould
return to these kingdoms, the crown should immediately
devolve on the regent, and the duke and his adherents
be deemed guilty of high treason.
Here was matter in which the Hanoverian suitor was
doubly interested both as man and as lover. Nor was there
anything unnatural or unbecoming in such concern. The
possible inheritance of such a throne as that of England
was not to be contemplated without emotion. An ex-
clusive Protestant succession made such a heritage pos-
sible to the House of Brunswick, and if ever the heads
of that house, before the object of their hopes v/as realised,
ceased to be active for its realisation, it w^as when a^^sur-
ance was made doubly sure, and action was unnecessary.
It is not easy to determine what part William of
Orange had in the recall of George Louis from England,
but the suddenness of that I'ccall was an object of some
admiring perplexity to a lover, who left a lady who was
26 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
by no means inconsolable, and who, two years afterwards,
was gaily married at St. James's to tlie Prince of Den-
mark, on the first leisure day between the executions of
Eussell and of Sidney.
George Louis, however, obeyed the summons of his
sovereign and father, but it was not until his arrival in
Hanover that he found himself called upon to transfer
the prosecution of his matrimonial suit from one object
to another. The ruling idea in the mind of Ernest Au-
gustus was, that hov/ever he might have provided to
secure his succession to the dominion of Zell, the marriage
of his son with the duke's only child would add many
broad acres to his possessions in Hanover.
Sophia Dorothea was still little more than a child ; but
that very circumstance was made use of in order to procure
the postponement of her marriage with Augustus of Wol-
fenbuttel. The Duke of Zell did not stand in need of
much argument from his brother to understand that the
union of the young lovers might more properly be cele-
brated when the bride was sixteen than a year earher.
The duke was ready to accept any reasoning, the object
of which was to enable him to retain his daughter another
year at his side.
The sixteenth birthday of Sophia Dorothea had
ariived, and George Louis had made no impression on
her heart — the image of the absent Augustus still lived
there ; and tlie whole plot would have failed, but for the
sudden, and active, and efficient energy of one who
seemed as if she had allowed matters to proceed to ex-
tremity, in order to exhibit tlie better her own powers
wlien she condescended to interfere personally and
remedy the ill-success of others by a triumph of her own.
That person was Sophia, the wife of Ernest, a lady wlio
rivalled Griselda in one point of her patience — that which
she felt for her husband's infidelities. In other respects
SOPHIA DOROTHEA. 27
she was crafty, pliilosopliical, and frec-tliiokiiig ; but she
was as ambitious as any of her family, and as she had
resolved on the marriage of her son, George Louis, with
Sophia Dorothea, she at once proceeded to accomphsh
that upon which she had resolved.
It had suddenly come to her knowledge that Augustus
of Wolfenblittel had made his reappearance at the Court
of Zell. Coupling the knowledge of this fiict with the
remembrance that Sophia Dorothea was now sixteen
years of age, and that at such a period her marriage had
been fixed, the mother of George Louis addressed herself
at once to the task of putting her son in the place of the
favoured lover. She ordered out the heavy coach and
heavier Mecklenburg horses, by which German poten-
tates w^ere wont to travel stately and leisiu^ely by post
some two centuries ago. It was night when she left
Hanover ; and although she had not further to travel
than an ordinary train could now accomplish in an hour,
it was broad daylight before this match-making and
match-breaking lady reached the portals of the ducal
palace of Zell.
There was something dehghtfully primitive in the
method of her proceeding. She did not despise state,
except on occasions when serious business was on hand.
The present was such an occasion, and she therefore
waited for no usher to marshal her way and announce
her coming to the duke. She descended from her pon-
derous coach, pushed aside the sleepy sentinel, who ap-
peared disposed to question her before he made way,
and, entering the hall of the mansion, loudly demanded
of the few servants who came hurrying to meet her, to
be conducted to the duke. It was intimated to her that
he was then dressing, but tliat liis Highness would soon
be in a condition to descend and wait upon her.
Too impatient to tarry, and too eager to care for
28 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
ceremony, slic mounted tlie stairs, bade a groom of the
chamber ])oint out to her tlie door of the duke's room ;
and, lier order liaving been obej^ed, she forthwith pushed
open the door, entered the apartment, and discovered the
dismayed duke in the most neglige of deshabilles. She
neither made a]:)oIogy nor would receive any ; but, inti-
mating lliat slie came u])on business, at once asked,
' Where is your wife ? ' The flurried Duke of Zell
pointed througli an open door to a capacious bed in the
adjacent room, wherein lay the wondering duchess, lost
in eider-down and deep amazement.
The ' old Sophia ' could have wished, it would seem,
tliat she had been further off. She was not quite rude
enough to close the door, and so cut off all connnunica-
tion and listening ; but, remembering that the Duchess of
Zell was but very indifferently acquainted with German,
she ceased to speak in the language then common to the
German courts — French — and innnediately addressed
the duke in hard Teutonic phrase, which was" luiintelli-
gible to the vexed and suspecting duchess.
Half undressed, the duke occupied a chair close to
his toilet-table, while the astute wife of Ernest Augustus,
seated near him, inifolded a narrative to which he listened
with every moment an increase of complacency and con-
viction. The Duchess Eleanora, from her bed in the
adjacent room, could see the actors, but could not com-
prehend the dialogue. I5ut, if tlie narrative was unin-
telligible to her, slie could understand the drift of the
argument, as the names of her daughter and lover were
being constantly pronounced witli that of George Louis.
Tlie case was forcibly put by the mother of George.
She showed how union makes strength, how little profit
could arise from a match between So])hia Dorothea and
Augustus of Wijlfcnbiiltel, and liow advantageous nuist
be an union between llic licir of Hanover and the heiress
SOPHIA DOROTHEA. 29
of the domains which her provident fatlier liad added to
Zell, and had bequeathed to his daughter. She spoke ot
the certainty of Ernest Augustus being created nrch-
standard-bearer of the empire of Germany, and there-
with Elector of Hanover, She hinted at the possibihty
even of Sophia Dorothea one day sharing with her son
the throne of Great Britain. The hint w^as something
prematiue, but the astute lady may have strengthened
her case by reminding her hearer that the crown of Eng-
land would most probably be reserved only for a Pro-
testant succession, and that her son was, if a distant, yet
not a very distant, and certainly a possible heir.
The obsequious Duke of Zell was bewildered by the
visions of greatness presented to his mind by his clever
sister-in-law. With ready lack of honesty he consented
to break off the match between Sophia Dorothea and her
lover, and to bestow her hand upon the careless prince
for whom it was now demanded by his mother. The
latter returned to Hanover perfectly satisfied with the
work of that night and morning.
The same satisfaction was not experienced by the
Duchess Eleanora. When she came to learn the facts,
she burst forth in expressions of grief and indignation.
The marriage which had now been definitely broken, had
been with her an affair of a mother's heart. It had not
been less an affair of a young girl's heart with Sophia
Dorothea. Duke Anton Ulrich of Wolfenbiittel came in
person to Zell, to ask tlie fulfilment of the promise of her
hand to his son. On learning tliat the alleged promise
had been broken, he left Zell with the utmost indigna-
tion ; and romance, at least, says of Konigsmark, that he
too, had left it with a feeling of sorrow that Sophia
Dorothea was to be sacrificed to such an unworthy per-
son as George Louis. It was a pitiable case ! There
were three persons who were to be rendered irretrievably
30 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
wretched, in order, not thut any one might be rendered
happy, but that a man without a heart might be made
a httle more rich in the possession of dirt. Tlie acres
of Zell were to bring misery on their heiress, and every
acre was to purcliase its season of sorrow.
No entreaty could move the duke.^ In his dignity
he forgot the father : and tlie prayers and tears of his
child failed to touch the parent, who really loved her
Avell, but ^vdiose affection was dissolved beneath the fiery
heat of his ambition. lie was singularly ambitious ; for
the possible effect of a marriage with George Louis was
merely to add his own independent duchy of Luneburg
to the dominions of Hanover, His daughter, moreover,
detested her cousin, and his wife detested her sister-in-
law ; above all, the newly accepted bridegroom, if he
did not detest, had no shadow, nor affected to have any
shadow of respect, regard, or affection for the poor
young victim who was to be flung to him with indecent
and unnatural disregard of all her feelinojs as daughter
and maiden. Sophia Dorothea's especial distaste for
George Louis was grounded not only in her knowledge
of his character, but also of his want of respect for her
mother, of whom he always spoke in contemptuous
terms, Sophia Dorothea's inclinations, her father said,
he would never constrain ; but when tliis seemed to give
her some hope of release, her father observed that a good
daughter's inclinations were always identical with those
of her parents. She had a heart to listen to, she
thought. She had a father whom she was bound to
obey, he said — and said it with terrible iteration. Her
aversion is reported to have been so determined that, when
^ It is even alleged that he had been, through his representative, M. de
Gourville, at tlie Court of Hanover, the lirst to suggest the expediency of a
marriage between his daughter and George Louis. The suggestion was
made as coming, not only from himself, hut from the Duchess of Zell also,
who certainly was no party to ?uch a proposition.
SOPHIA DOROTHEA. 3 I
the portrait of her future lord was presented to her, she
flung it against the wall with such violence that the glass
was smashed, and the dismounted diamonds were scat-
tered over the room.
The matter, however, was urged onward by Sophia
of Hanover ; and in formal testimony of the freedom of
inclination with which Sophia Dorothea acted, she was
brought to address a formal letter to the mother of her
proposed husband, expressive of her obedience to the
will of her father, and promissory of the same obedience
to the requirements of her future mother-in-law. It is a
mere formal document, proving nothing but that it was
penned for the assumed -writer by a cold-hearted inventor,
and that the heart of the copier, subdued by sickness,
was far away from her words. This docimient is in the
British Museum. During the time that intervened before
George Louis arrived at Zell to take his bride to Hanover,
Sophia Dorothea seemed to have passed years instead of
weeks. It was only when her mother looked sadly at
her that she contrived painfully to smile. She even pro-
fessed a sort of joyful obedience ; but when the bride-
groom dismounted at her father's gate, Sophia Dorothea
fainted in her mother's arms.
After a world of misery and mock wooing, crowded
into a few months, the hateful and ill-omened marriage
took place at Zell on the 21st of I^ovember, 1682. The
bride was sixteen, the bridegroom twenty-two. Of the
splendour which attended the ceremony court historio-
graphers wrote in loyal ecstasy and large folios, describing
every character and dress, every incident and dish, every
tableau and trait, with a minuteness almost inconceivable,
and a weariness saddening even to think of. They thought
of everything but the heart of the principal pei-sonage in
tlie ceremony — that of the bride. They could describe
the superb lace which veiled it, and prate of its value
32 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
and workmanship ; but of the worth and woe of the heart
"wliioh beat beneath it, these courtly historians knew no
more than they did of honesty. Their flattery was of the
grossest, but they had no comprehension of ' the situa-
tion,' To them all mortals Avere but as ballet-dancers
and pantomimists ; and if they were but bravely dressed
and picturesquely grouped, the describers thereof thought
of nothing beyond. The bride preserved her mournful
dignity on that dark and fierce November day. Tradi-
tion says that there was a storm Avithout as well as
sorrow within ; and that the moaning of the wind and
strange noises in the old castle seemed as if the elements
and the very home of the bride's youth sympathised with
her present and her future destiny.
33
CHAPTER IV.
THE HOUSEHOLD OF GEORGE AND SOPHIA.
Reception of Sophia at the Court of Ernest Augustus — Similar position of
Marie Antoinette and Sophia — Misfortune of the abigail Use — Compas-
sionated by the Duchess of Zell — Intrigues and revenge of Madame von
Platen — A new favourite, Mademoiselle Ernieugarda von der Schulenburg
— A marriage fete, and intended insult to the Princess Sophia — Gross
vice of George Louis.
It is said that a certain becomiiigness of compliment was
paid to the bride in an order given to Katharine von
Busche to absent herself from the palace when the bride
was brought home. The mistress, it is alleged, deferred
her departure till it was too late, and from a window
of Madame von Platen's bedchamber the sisters witnessed
the sight of George Louis dismounting from his horse,
and hastening to help his wife to descend from the
carriage.
Madame von Platen, as she gazed, may have thought
that her sister's influence was over. If she did, Madame
von Busche felt convinced of the contrary. The latter
took her departure, for a season. The other prepared
herself to join in the splendid court festivities held in
honour of the event by the command of Ernest Augustus.
Sophia Dorothea, subdued by past suflering, was so gentle
that even Madame von Platen would have found it difii-
cult to have felt offended with her sister's rival.
For a few months after Sophia Dorothea's husband
had taken her to Hanover, she experienced, perhaps, a
VOL. L D
34 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
less degree of uiihaj^piuess than was ever her lot subse-
qllentl3^ Her open and gentle nature won the regard
even of Ernest Augustus. Tliat is, he paid her as much
regard as a man so coarsely minded as he was could
feel for one of such true womanly dignity as his daughter-
in-law.
His respect for her, however, maybe best appreciated
by the companionship to which he sometimes subjected
her. He more frequently saw her in society with the
immoral Madame von Platen than in the society of his
own wife. Ernest looked gratefully upon her as the
pledge of the future union of the two duchies under one
duke. On this account, even if she had possessed less
attractive qualities, he would have held Sophia Dorothea
in great esteem. A certain measure of esteem Ernest
experienced for all wlio had in any way furthered his
scheme. His mistress, Madame von Platen, had always
pretended to think favourably of the scheme, and ad-
nmdngly of the wisdom of the schemer ; in return for
which, Ernest made his mistress's husband a baron, and
afterwards a count. Let us employ the higher dignity.
In the beginning, George Louis seemed fairly in love with
his w^ife ; there appeared a promise of increased felicity
Avhcn the first child of this marriage was born at Hanover,
on the 30 til of October 1683 ; his father conferred on
him the names of George Augustus, he expressed pleasure
at liaving an heir, and he even added some words of
reo^ard for the mother. The second child of this marriao-o
was a daughter, born in IG87. She was that Sophia
Dorothea who subsequently married the King of Prussia.
In tending these two children the mother found all the
happiness she ever experienced dui'ing her married life.
Soon after the birtli of the daughter, George Louis openly
neglected and openly exhibited his hatred of his wife.
He lost no opportunity of inltatiiig and outraging her.
SOPHIA DOROTHEA. 35
and she could not even walk through the rooms of the
palace which she called lier home witliout encountering
the abandoned female flxvourites of her husband, whose
presence beneath such a roof was the most flagrant of
outrages. Her very sense of lielplessness was a great
grief to her. All that her own motlier could do when
her daughter complained to her of the presence near her
of her husband's mistress, was to advise her to imitate, on
this point, the indifference of her mother-in-law, and
make tlie best of it !
The Countess von Platen kept greater state in Hanover
than Sophia Dorothea herself. In her own palatial
mansion two dozen servants helped lier helplessness.
Every morning she had ' a cucle,' as if she were a royal
lady holding a court. Her dinners were costly banquets ;
her ' evenings ' were renowned for the brilliancy of her
fetes and the reckless fury of gambling. Sophia Dorothea,
whose talent for listening and for putting apt and sympa-
thetic questions when the conversation required it, gave
considerable satisfaction to her clever, but somewhat
pedantic mother-in-law, failed to at all satisfy the Countess
von Platen. This lady had tried to bring the princess
into something like sympathy with herself, but she found
only antipathy. She detested Sophia Dorothea accord-
ingly, and she obtained permission to invite her sister,
Madame von Busche, to retmii to Hanover.
The prime mover of the hatred of George Louis for
his consort was the Countess von Platen, and this fact was
hardly known to George Louis himself. There was one
thing in which that individual had a fixed belief: liis
own sagacity and, it may be added, his own imaginary
independence of outward influences. He was profound
in some things ; but, as frequently happens with persons
who fancy themselves deep in all, he was very shallow in
many. It was often impossible to guess his purpose, but
36 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
quite as often his thoiiglits were as clearly discernible as
the pebbles in the bed of a transparent brook. The
C'oinitess von Platen saw througli him thoroughly, and
she employed her discernment for the furtherance of her
own detestable objects.
Sophia Dorothea had, however, contrived to wAw the
good opinion of her mother-in-law, and also the wai'm
fiivour of Ernest Augustus. The latter took her with
him on a journey he made to Switzerland and Italy. It
was on this journey that her portrait was taken, at Venice,
by Gascar, who, when in England, had painted, among
others, that of I^ouise de Querouaille, Duchess of Ports-
mouth. This portrait of Sophia Dorothea is still in exist-
ence in Germany. The beauty of the lady represented
is so remarkable, it is said, as to justify the admiration
she generally excited. This admiration sometimes went
beyond decent bounds. One French adorer, the cele-
l^rated and eccentric Marquis de Lassay, was impudent
enough, not only to address declarations of love to her,
but subsequently, in his ' Memoirs,' to publish liis letters.
It has not yet occurred to the ever-busy autograph fabri-
cators on the continent to forge the supposed replies of
the princess.
After the return of Ernest Augustus and liis daughter-
in-law to Hanover, the praise of Sophia Dorothea was
ever the theme wliicli hung on the lips of the former,
and such eidogy was as poison poui-ed in the ears of
Madame von Platen. She dreaded the loss of her own
influence over the father of George Louis, and she fancied
she might preserve it by destroying the happiness of the
wife of his son. Her hatred of tliat poor lady had been
increased by a circinnstance with which slie could not
be counectetl, l)ut wliicli nearly concerned the Duchess
(jf Zell.
Ernest Augustus used occasionally to visit Madame
SOPHIA DOROTHEA. 37
von Platen at her own residence, with more than enough
of pubhcity. He was nK^re inclined to conversation with
her than with his prime- minister, her husband ; and she
had wit enough, if not worth, to give warrant for such
preference. Now and then, however, the ducal sovereign
would repair to pay his homage to the lady without
previous notice being forwarded of his coming ; and it
was on one of these occasions that, on arriving at the
mansion, or in the gardens of the mansion of his minister's
spouse, he found, not the lady of the house, who was
absent, but her bright-eyed, ordinary-featured, and quick-
witted handmaid, who bore a name which might have
been given to such an official in Elizabethan plays by
Ford or Fletcher. Her name was ' Use.'
Ernest AuQ;ustus found the wit of Use much to his
taste ; and the delighted abigail was perfectly self-possessed,
and more brilliant than common in the converse which she
sustained for the pleasure of the sovereign, and her own
expected profit. She had just, it is supposed, come to the
point of some exquisitely epigrammatic tale, for the prince
was laughing with his full heart, and her hand in his, and
the 'tiring maiden was as radiant as successful wit and
endeavour could make her, when Madame von Platen
interrupted the sparkling colloquy by her more fiery
presence. She affected to be overcome with indignation
at the boldness of a menial who dared to make merry with
a sovereign duke ; and when poor Use had been rudely
dismissed from the two presences — the one august and the
other angry — the Countess von Platen probably remon-
strated with Ernest Augustus, respectfully or otherwise,
upon his deplorable want of dignity and good taste.
Revenge certainly followed, whether remonstrance may
or may not have been offered. Ernest Augustus went to
sojourn for a time at one of his rural palaces, and he had
no sooner left his capital than the countess committed the
3 8 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
terrified Use to close imprisonment in tlie common gaol.
The history of little German courts assures us that this
exercise and abuse of power were not at all uncommon
with the ' favourites ' of German princes. Their word was
' all potential as the duke's,' and doubtless the Countess
von Platen's authority was as good warrant for a Hano-
verian gaoler to hold Use in custody as if he had shut up
that maid, who offended by her wit, under the sign manual
of Ernest Augustus himself
Use was kept captive, and very shabbily treated, until the
Countess von Platen had resolved as to the further course
which should be ultimately adopted towards her. She could
bring no charge against her, save a pretended accusation
of lightness of conduct and immorality scandalous to
Hanoverian decorum. Under this charge she had her old
handmaid drummed out of the town ; and if the elder
Sophia heard the tap of the drums which accompanied the
alleged culprit to the gates, we can only suppose that she
would have expelled the countess to the same music.
But, in the first place, the wives of princes were by no
means so powerful as their favourites ; and secondly, the
friend of the philosophical Leibnitz was too much occupied
with the sage to trouble herself with the affairs which gave
concern to the Countess von Platen.
Use found herself outside the city walls, friendless,
penniless, with a damaged character, and nothing to cover
it but the light costume which she had worn in the process
of her march of expulsion to the roll of ' dry drums.'
When she had found a refuge, her first course was to apply
to Ernest Augustus for redress. The prince, however, was
at once oblivious, ungrateful, and powerless; and, confining
liiniself to sending to the poor petitioner a paltry eleemosy-
nary half-dozen of gold ])ieces, he forbade her return to
Hanover, counselled her to settle elsewhere, and congratu-
lated her that she had not received even rougher treatment.
SOPHIA DOROTHEA. 39
Use next made full statement of her case to the Duchess
of Zell ; and that lady, deeming the case one of peculiar
hardship, and the penalty inflicted on a giddy girl too
unmeasured for the pardonable offence of amusing an old
prince who encouraged her to the task, after much con-
sideration, due weighing of the statement, and befitting
inquiry, took the offender into her own service, and gave
to the exiled Hanoverian a refuge, asylum, and employment
in Zell.
These are but small politics, but they illustrate the
nature of things as they then existed at little German
courts. They had, moreover, no small influence on the
happiness of Sophia Dorothea. The Countess von Platen
was enraged that the mother of that princess should have
dared to give a home to one whom she had condemned to
be homeless ; and she in consequence is suspected of having
been fired with the more satanic zeal to make desolate the
home of the young wife. She adopted the most efficient
means to arrive at such an end. Her wicked zeal was
stimulated by the undisguised contempt with which Sophia
Dorothea treated her on all public occasions. She urged
her sister, Madame von Busche, to recover her power over
George Louis. Madame von Busche embraced with
alacrity the mission with which she was charged, again to
throw such meshes of fascination as she was possessed of
around the heart of tlie not over-susceptible prince. But
George Louis stolidly refused to be charmed, and Madame
von Busche gave up the attempt in a sort of offended
despair". Her sister, like a true genius, fertile in expedi-
ents, and prepared for every emergency, bethought herself
of a simple circumstance, whereby she hoped to attain her
ends. She remembered that George Louis, though short
himself of stature, had a predilection for tall women. At
the next fete at which he was present at the mansion of
Madame von Platen, he was enchanted by a majestic young
40 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
lady, with a name almost as long as lier person — it was
Ermengarda Melusina von der Schulenburg.
She was more shrewd tlian witty, this ' tall mawkin,'
as the Electress Sophia once called the lofty Ermengarda ;
and, as George Louis was neither witty himself, nor much
cared for wit in others, she was the better enabled to
establish herself in tlie most worthless of hearts. This was
tliL" work of the countess, who saw in the tender blue eyes,
the really fine features, the imposing figure, and the nine-
teen years of Ermengarda, means to an end. When the
countess hinted at the distinction that was within reach of
her, tlie tall beauty is said to have blushed and hesitated,
and then to have yielded herself w4th alacrity to the
glittering circumstance. She and the prince first met on
liis return from a campaign in Hungary, He was at once
subjected to her magic influences. She was an inimitable
flatterer, and in this way she fooled her victim to ' the very
top of his bent.' She exquisitely cajoled him, and with
exquisite carelessness did he sin-render himself to be cajoled.
Gradually, by watching his inclinations, anticipating his
wishes, admiring even his coarseness, and lauding it as
candour, she so won upon the lazily excited feelings of
George Louis that he began to think her presence indis-
pensable to liis well-being. If he hunted, she was in the
field, tlie nearest to his saddle-bow. If he went out to
walk alone, he invariably fell in with Ermengarda. At the
court theatre, when he was present, the next conspicuous
object was the towering von der Schulenburg, ' in all her
diamonds,' beneath the glare of which, and the blazing
impudence of tlieir wearer, the modest Sophia Dorothea
was almost extinguislied. Ermengarda was speedily
established at Hanover, as hof-dame, or lady-in-waiting.
Madame von Platen hnd ainiounccd a festival, to be
celebrated at her mansion, which was to surpass in splen-
dour anything that had ever been witnessed by the existing
SOPHIA DOROTHEA. 4 1
generation. The occasion was the second marriage of her
sister, Madame von Busche, who had worried the poor
ex-tutor of George Louis into the grave, with General
Weyhe, a gallant soldier, equal, it would seem, to any feat
of darini^. Whenever the Countess von Platen desio-ned
to appear with more than ordinary brilliancy in her own
person, she was accustomed to indulge in the extravagant
luxury of a milk bath ; and it wa^ added by the satirical
or the scandalous, that the milk which had just lent softness
to her skin was charitably distributed among the poor of
the district wherein she occasionally affected to play the
character of Dorcas.
The fete and the giver of it were not only to be of a
splendour that had never been equalled, but George
Louis had promised to grace it with his presence, and
luid even pledged himself to ' walk a measure ' with the
irresistible Ermengarda Melusina von der Scliulenbiir<r.
Madame von Platen thought that her cup of joy and
pride and revenge would be complete and full to the
brim if she could succeed in bringing Sophia Dorothea
to tne misery of witnessing a spectacle, the only true
significance of which was, that the faithless George Louis
publicly acknowledged the gigantic Ermengarda for his
' favourite.'
More activity was employed to encompass the desired
end than if the aim in view had been one of good pur-
pose. It so far succeeded that Sophia Dorothea intimated
her intention of being present at the festival given by the
Countess von Platen ; and when the latter lady received
the desired and welcome intelligence she was conscious
of an enjoyment that seemed to her an antepast of Para-
dise.
The eventful night at lengtli arrived. The bride had
exchanged rings with the bridegroom, congratulations
had been duly paid, the floor was ready for the dancers,
42 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
and nothing lacked but the presence of Sophia Dorothea.
There walked the proudly eminent von der Schulen-
burg, looking blandly down upon George Louis, who
held her by the hand ; and there stood the impatient
von Platen, eager that the wife of that light-o'-love
cavalier should arrive and be crushed by the spectacle.
Still she came not ; and finally her lady of honour,
Fraulein von Knesebeck, arrived, not as her attendant but
her representative, with excuses for the non-appearance
of her mistress, whom unfeigned indisposition detained
at her own hearth.
The course of the festival was no longer delayed ; in
it the bride and bridegroom were forgotten, and George
and Ermengarda were the hero and heroine of the
hour. After that hour no one doubted as to the bad
eminence achieved by tliat lady — unworthy daughter of
an ancient and honourable race. So narrowly and
sharply observant was the lynx-eyed von Knesebeck
of all that passed between her mistress's husband and that
husband's mistress, that when she returned to her duties
of dame cVatours, she unfolded a narrative that inflicted a
stab in every phrase and tore the heart of the despairing
listener.
43
CHAPTEli V.
THE ELECTORATE OF HANOVER.
The House of Hanover ranges itself against France — Ernest Augustus
created Elector — Domestic rebellion of his son Maximilian — His accom-
plice, Count von Moltke, beheaded — The Electors of Germany.
While Sophia Dorothea was daily growing more
imliappy, her father-in-law was growing more ambitious
and the prospects of her husband more brilliant. The
younger branch of Brunswick was outstripping the elder
in dignity, and not merely an electoral but a kingly
crown seemed the prize it was destined to attain.
When Ernest's elder brother, John Frederick, died
childless, and left him the principalities of Calemberg and
Grubenberg, with Hanover or a ' residenz,' he hailed an
increase of influence which he hoped to see heightened
by securing the Duchy of Zell also to his family. He
had determined that George Louis should succeed to
Hanover and Zell united. In other words, he established
primogeniture, recognised his eldest son as heir lo all his
land, and only awarded to his other sons moderate
appanages whereby to support a dignity which he con-
sidered sufficiently splendid by the glory which it would
receive, by reflection, from the head of the house.
This arrangement by no means suited the views of one
of Ernest's sons, Maximilian. He had no inclination
whatever to borrow glory from the better fortune of his
brother, and was resolved, if it might be, to achieve
splendour by his own. He protested loudly against the
44 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
accumulation of the family territorial estates upon the
eklest heir ; claimed his own share ; and even raised a
species of domestic rebellion against his sire, to which
weight, without peril, was given by the alleged adhesion
of a couple of confederates, Count von Moltke and a con-
spirator of burgher degree.
Ernest Augustus treated ' Max ' like a rude child. He
put him under arrest in the paternal palace, and confined
the filial rebel to the mild imprisonment of his own room.
Maximilian was as obstinate as either Henry the Dog or
Magnus the Violent, and he not only opposed his sire's
wishes with respect to the aggrandisement of the family
by the enriching of the heir-apparent, but went counter
to Inm in matters of religion. In after-years he was not
only a good Jacobite, but he also conformed to the faith
of the Stuarts, and Maximilian ultimately died, a tolerable
Eoman Catholic, in the service of the Emperor.
In the meanwhile, his domestic antagonism against his
father was not productive of much inconvenience to him-
self. His arrest was soon raised, and he was restored to
freedom, though not to favour or affection. It went harder,
however, with his friend and confedei"ate Count von
Moltke, against whom, as nothing could be proved, much
was invented. An absurd story was coined to the effect,
that at the time when Maximilian was opiDOsing his
father's projects. Count von Moltke, at a court entertain-
ment, had presented his snuff-box to Ernest Augustus.
Tliis illustrious individual having taken therefrom the pun-
gent tribute respectfully offered, presented the same to an
Italian greyhound which lay at his feet, who thereon
suddenl}'^ sneezed and swiftly died. The count was sent
into close arrest, and the courtly gossips forged the story
to account for the result. The unforJuiiatc von Moltke
was, indeed, as severely puni.shed as though he had been
a murderer. He was judged in something of the old
SOPHIA DOROTHEA. 45
Jedburgh fashion, whereby execution preceded judgment ;
and the head of Count von Moltke had fallen before men
could well guess why he had forfeited it. The fact was
that this penalty had been enacted as a vicarious infliction
on Prince Maximilian. The more ignoble plotter was
only banished, and in the death of a friend and the exile
of a follower, Maximilian, it was hoped, would see a
double suggestion from which he would draw a healthy
conclusion. This course had its desired effect. The dis-
inherited heir accepted his ill-fortune with a humour of
the same quality, and, openly at least, he ceased to be a
trouble to his more ambitious than affectionate father.
The next important public circumstance was the
raising Hanover to an Electorate ; and this was not
effected without much bribery and intrigue. In those
warlike times, when France and the German empire
were in antagonism, the attitude assumed by such a state
as Hanover was matter of interest to the adverse powers.
It is said tliat the last argument which decided the
Emperor's course was a hint from De Groot, the Hano-
verian minister, that Ernest Augustus might cast in his
lot with France. A prince who had so often w^ell served
tlie empire was not to be allowed to assist France for
lack of flinging to him the title of Elector. This title was
granted, but under heavy stipulations. The two Dukes
of Hanover and Zell bound themselves, as long as the
war lasted, on the side of the Emperor aejainst the
French and against the Turks, to pay annually 500,000
thalers, to furnish a contingent amounting to 9,000 men,
to uphold the claim of the Arch-Duke Charles on the
Spanisli throne, and at any election of a new Emperor to
vote invariably for the eldest heir of the House of
Hapsburg. The 19th of December 1692 was the joyful
day on which Ernest Augustus was nominated Elector
of Hanover.
46 LIVES OF ^THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
The (lay, liowevcr, was anything but one of joy to the
brancli of Biunswick-Wolfenbiitteh Tliat elder branch
felt itself dishonoured by the august dignity which had
been conferred upon tlie younger scion of the family.
The elder branch, and the Sacred College with it, affirmed
ihat the Emperor was invested with no prerogative by
which he could, of his own spontaneous act, add a ninth
Elector to the eight already existing. Originally there
were but seven, and the accession of one more to that
time-honoured number was pronounced to be an innova-
tion by which ill-fortune must ensue. Something still
more deplorable was vaticinated as the terrible conse-
quence of a step so peremptorily taken by the Emperor,
in despite of the other Electors.
It was said by the supporters of the Emperor and
Hanover that the addition of a ninth and Protestant
Elector was the more necessary, that there were only
two Electors on the sacred roll who now followed the
faith of the Eeformed Church, and that the sincerity of
one, at least, of these was very questionable. The
reformed states of Germany had a right to be properly
represented, and the Emperor was worthy of all praise
for respecting this right. With regard to the nomination,
it was stated that, though it had been made spontaneously
by the Emperor, it had been confirmed by the Electoral
College — a majority of the number of which had carried
the election of the Emperor's candidate.
Now, this last point was the weak point of the Hano-
verians ; for it was asserted by many adversaries, and
not denied by many supporters, that in such a case as
tliis no vote of the Electoral College was good unless it
were an unanimous vote. To this objection, strongly
urged l)y the elder branch of Brimswick-Wolfcnbiittel,
no answer was made, except, indeed, by praising ihc new
Elector, of whom it was correctly stated that he had
SOPHIA DOROTHEA. 47
introduced into his states sucli a taste for masquerades,
operas, and ballets as had never been known before ; and
that he had made a merry and a prosperous people of what
had been previously but a dull nation, as regarded both
manners and commerce. The Emperor only thought of
the good service which Ernest Augustus had rendered
him in the field, and he stood by the ' accomplished fact '
of which he was the chief author.
The College was to the full as obstinate, and would
not recognise any vote tendered by the Elector of Hanover,
or of Brunswick, as he was at first called. For nearly
sixteen years was this opposition carried on. At length,
on the 30th of June 1708, this affair of the ninth elec-
torate was adjusted, and the three colleges of the empire
resolved to admit the Elector of Hanover to sit and vote
in the Electoral College. In the same month, he was
made general of the imperial troops, then assembled in
the vicinity of the Upper Rhine.
His original selection by the Emperor had much
reference to his military services. The efforts of Louis
XIV. to get possession of the Palatinate, after the death of
the Palatine Louis, had caused the formation of the
German Confederacy to resist the aggression of France —
an aggression not checked till the day when Marlborough
defeated Tallard, at Blenheim. Louis was hurried into
the war by his minister, Lou vols, who was annoyed by
his interference at home in matters connected with
Louvois's department. It was to make the confederation
more firm and united that Ernest Augustus was created,
rather than elected, a ninth Elector. The three Pro-
testant Electors were those of Saxony, Brandenburg, and
Hanover ; the three Eoman Catholic, Bohemia, Bavaria,
and the Palatinate ; and the three spiritual Electors, the
Prince-Archbishops of Metz, Treves, and Cologne.
The history of the creation of the ninth Electorate
48 LIV'ES OF THE (lUEENS OF E AG LAND.
would not be complete without citing what is said iu
respect thereof by the author of a pamphlet su}) pressed
by the Hanoverian government, and entitled ' Impeach-
ment of the Ministry of Count Munster.' It is to this
effect : ' During the war between Leopold I. and France,
at the close of the 17th century, Ernest Augustus, Duke
of Brunswick, and administrator of Osnabriick, father of
George I., had been paid a considerable sum of money
on condition of aiding the French monarch with ten
thousand troops. The Emperor, aware of the engage-
ment, and anxious to prevent the junction of these forces
^\ith the enemy, proposed to create a ninth electorate, in
favour of the Duke, provided he brought his levies to the
imperial banner. The degrading offer was accepted, and
the envoys of Brunswick-Luneberg received the electoral
caji, the symbol of their master's dishonour, at Vienna, on
the lOtJi of December 1692. From the opposition of the
college and princes, Ernest was never more than nominally
an Elector, and even his son's nomination was with diffi-
culty accomplished in 1710. It was in connection with
this new dignity that Hanover, a name till then applied
only to a })rincipal and almost independent city of the
Dukedom of Biamswick, became known in the list of
European sovereignties,'
But wdiile the Court of Hanover was engaged in the
important or trivial circumstances which have been
already narrated, a notable individual had been pursuing
fortime in various countries of Europe, and had made his
appearance on the scene at Hanover, to play a part in a
drama which had a tragical catastrophe — namely. Count
Konigsmark.
49
CHAPTEE VI.
THE KONIGSMARKS.
Count Charles John Konigsmark's roving and adventurous life — The great
heiress — An intriguing countess — 'Tom of Ten Thousand' — The
murder of Lord John Thynne — The fate of the count's accomplices —
Court influence shelters the guilty count.
The circumstance of the sojourn of a Count Konigs-
mark at Zell, during the childhood of Sophia Dorothea,
has been before noticed. Originally the family of the
Konigsmarks was of the Mark of Brandenburgh, but a
chief of the family settled in Sweden, and the name
carried lustre with it into more than one country. In the
army, the cabinet, and the church, the Konigsmarks had
representatives of whom they might be proud ; and
generals, statesmen, and prince-bishops, aU labouring with
glory in their respective departments, sustained the high
reputation of this once celebrated name. From the
period, early in the seventeenth century, that the first
Konigsmark (Count John Christopher) withdrew from the
imperial service and joined that of Sweden, the men of
that house devoted themselves, almost exclusively, to the
profession of arms. This Count John is famous as the
subduer of Prague, in 1648, at the end of the Thirty
Years' War. Of all the costly booty which he carried
with him from that city, none has continued to be so
well cared for by the Swedes as the silver book con-
taining the Moeso-Gothic Gospels of Bishop Ulphilas, still
preserved with pride at learned Upsal.
VOL. I. E
50 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
John Christoplier was the father of two sons. Otho
William, a marshal of France, a valued friend of Charles
XII., and a gallant servant of the state of Venice, whose
government honoured his tomb with an inscription,
Semper Victoria was the younger. He was pious as well
as brave, and he enriched German literature with a collec-
tion of very fervid and spiritual hymns. Tlie elder son,
Conrad Christopher, was killed in the year 1G73, when
fighting on the Dutch and imperial side, at the siege of
Bonn. He left four children, three of whom became
famous. His sons were Charles John, and Philip
Christopher. His daughters were Maria Aiu'ora (mother
of the famous Maurice of Saxony) and Amelia Wilhel-
mina. The latter was fortunate enough to achieve
happiness without being celebrated. If she has not been
talked of beyond her own Swedish fireside, she passed
there a life of as calm felicity as she and her husband,
Charles von Loewenhaupt, could enjoy when they had
relations so celebrated, and so troublesome, as Counts
Charles John and Philip Christoplier, and tlie Countess
Maria Aurora, the ' favourite ' of Augustus of Poland, and
the only royal concubine, perhaps, who almost deserved
as much respect as though she had won greatness by a
legitimate process.
It was this Philip Christopher who was for a brief
season the playfellow or companion of Sophia Dorothea,
in the young days of both, in the quiet gardens and
galleries of Zell. It is only told of liim that, after his
departure from Zell, he sojourned witli various members
of his family, travelled with them, and returned at in-
tervals to reside with his mother, Maria Christina, of the
German fomily of Wrangel, who luihappily survived long
enough to be acquainted with the crimes as well as mis-
fortunes of three of her children.
In the year 1G82, Philip Christopher was in England.
SOPHIA DOROTHEA. 51
The elder brother, who had more than once been a
visitor to this country, and a welcome, because a witty,
one at the Court of Charles II., had brought his younger
brother hither, in order (so it was said) to have him in-
structed more completely in the tenets of the Protestant
religion, and ultimately to place him at Oxford. In the
meantime Charles John lodged Philip with a ' governor,'
at the riding academy, near the Haymarket, of that
Major Foubert, whose second establishment (where he
taught ' noble horsemanship ') is still commemorated by
the passage out of Eegent Street, which bears the name
of the French Protestant refugee and professor of eques-
trianism.
The elder brother of these two Konigsmarks was a
superb scoundrel. He had led a roving and adventurous
life, and was in England when not more that fifteen years
of age, in the year 1674. During the next half-dozen
years he had rendered the ladies of the Court of France
ecstatic at his impudence, and had won golden opinions
from the ' marine knights ' of Malta, whom he had accom-
panied on a ' caravane,' or cruise, against the Turks, wherein
he took hard blows cheerfully, and had well-nigh been
drowned by his impetuous gallantry. At some of the
courts of southern Europe he appeared with an eclat which
made the men hate and envy him ; but nowhere did he
produce more effect than at Madrid, where he appeared
at the period of the festivities held to celebrate the
marriage of Charles 11. with Maria Louisa of Orleans.
The marriage of the last-named august pair was followed
by the fiercest and the finest bull-fights which had ever
been witnessed in Spain. At one of these Charles John
made himself the champion of a lady, fought in her honour
in the arena, with the wildest bull of the company, and
got dreadfully mauled for his pains. His horse was slain,
and he himself, staggering and faint, and blind with loss
E 2
52 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
of blood, and with deep wounds, had finally only strength
enough left to pass his sword into the neck of the other
brute, his antagonist, and to be carried half-dead and quite
senseless out of the arena, amid the approbation of the
gentle ladies, who purred applause upon the unconscious
hero, like satisfied tigresses.
In 1681, at the age of twenty- two, master of all manly
vices, and ready for any adventure, he was once more in
England, where he seized the opportunity afforded him by
the times and their events, and hastened to join the expe-
dition against Tangier. On the conclusion of the warm affair
at Tangier, he went as an amateur against the Algerines,
and without commission inflicted on them and their ' uncle '
(as the word dey implies) as much injury as though he
had been chartered general at the head of a destroying
host. Wlien he returned to England, he was received
with enthusiasm. His handsome face, his long flaxen hair,
his stupendous periwig for state occasions, and his ineffable
impudence, made him the dehght of the impudent people
of those impudent times.
Now, of all those people, the supercihous Charles John
cared but for one, and she, there is reason to believe, knew
little and cared less for this presuming scion of tlie House
of Konigsmark.
Joscelyn, eleven tli Earl of Northumberland, who died
in the year 1670 — the last of the male line of his house —
left an only daughter, four years of age, named Elizabeth.
Her father's death made her the possessor — awaiting her
majority — of vast wealth, to which increase was made
by succession to other inheritances. Her widowed mother
married Ealph Montague, English ambassador in Paris.
When the widow of Joscelyn espoused Montague, her
daughter Elizabeth went to reside with the mother of
Joscelyn, Dowager Countess of Northumberland, and
co-heiress to the Suflblk estate, destined to be added to
SOPHIA DOROTHEA. 53
the possessions of the httle Ehzabeth. She was an
intriguing, indehcate, self-willed, and worthless old woman ;
and with respect to the poor little girl of whom she was
the unworthy guardian, she made her the subject of
constant intrigues with men of power who wished for
wealth, and with rich men who wished for rank and power.
Before the unhappy little heiress had attained the age of
thirteen, her grandmother had bound her in marriage with
Henry Cavendish, Earl Ogle. Though the ceremony was
performed, the parties did not, of course, reside together.
The dowager countess and the earl were satisfied that the
fortune of the heiress was secured, and they were further
content to wait for what might follow.
That which followed was what they least expected —
death ; the bridegroom died within a year of his union
with Elizabeth Percy ; and this child, wife, and widow
was again at the disposal of her wretched grandmother.
The heiress of countless thousands was anything but the
mistress of herself.
At this period the proprietor of the house and domain
of Longleat, in Wiltshire, was that Thomas Thynne, whom
Dryden has celebrated as the Issachar of his ' Absalom
and AchitopheL' He was the friend of the Duke of
Monmouth, was spoken of as ' Tom of Ten Thousand,' and
was a very unworthy fellow, although the member of a
worthy house. Tom's Ten Thousand virtues were of that
metal which the Dowager Countess of Northumberland
most approved ; and her grand-daughter had not been
many months the widow of Lord Ogle, when her precious
guardian united her by private marriage to Thynne. The
newly-married couple were at once separated. The
marriage was the result of an infamous intrigue between
infamous people, some of whom, subsequently to Thynne's
death, sued his executors for money which he had bound
himself to pay for services rendered to further the marriage.
54 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
Wlien Charles Jolm Konigsmark returiiecl to England,
in January 1682, all England was talking of the match
wherein a poor child had been sold, although the purchaser
had not yet possession of either his victim or her fortune.
The common talk must have had deep influence on the
count, who appears to have been impressed with the idea
that if Thynne were dead, Count Charles John Konigsmark
might succeed to his place and expectations.
On the evening of Sunday, the 12th of February 1 682,
Thynne was in his coach, from which the Duke of
Monmouth had only just previously ahghted, and was
riding along that part of Pali-Mall which abuts upon
Cockspur Street, when the carriage was stopped by three
men on horseback, one of whom discharged a carbine into
it, whereby Tom of Ten Thousand was so desperately
wounded that he died in a few hours.
The persons charged with this murder were chiefly
discovered by means of individuals of ill repute with whom
they associated. By such means were arrested a German,
Captain Vratz, Borosky a Pole, and a fellow, half knave,
half enthusiast, described as Lieutenant Stern. Vratz had
accompanied Konigsmark to England. They lodged
together, first in the Haymarket, next in Eupert Street,
and finally in St. Martin's Lane. Borosky had been
clothed and armed at the count's expense ; and Stern was
emploj^ed as a likely tool to help them in this enterprise.
It was proved on the trial, that, after the deed was com-
mitted, these men were at the count's lodgings, that a
sudden separation took place, and that the count himself,
upon some sudden fear, took flight to the water-side ;
there he lay hid for a while, and then dodged about the
river, in various disguises, in order to elude pursuit, until
he finally landed at Gravesend, where he was pounced
upon by two expert thief-catchers.
The confession of the accomplices, save Vratz, did not
SOPHIA DOROTHEA. 55
affect the count. His defence took a high Protestant
tiu'n — made alkision to his Protestant ancestors and their
deeds in behalf of Protestantism, lauded Protestant England,
alluded to his younger brother, brought expressly here to
be educated in Protestant principles, and altogether was
exceedingly clever, but in no wise convincing. It was
known that the King would learn with pleasure that the
count had been acquitted. As this knowledge was
possessed by judges who were removable at the King's
pleasure, it had a strong influence ; and the arch-murderer,
the most cowardly of the infamous company, was acquitted
accordingly. In his case, the verdict, as regarded him,
was given in, last. The other three persons were indicted
for the actual commission of the fact, Konigsmark as
accessory before the fact, hiring them, and instigating them
to the crime. Thrice he had heard the word ' Guilty '
pronounced, and, despite his recklessness, was somewhat
moved when the jury were asked as to their verdict
respecting him. 'Not Guilty,' murmured the foreman;
and then the noble count, mindful only of himself, and
forgetful of the three unhappy men whom he had dragged
to death, exclaimed in his unmanly joy, ' God bless the
King, and this honourable bench ! ' The meaner assassins
were flung to the gallows. Vratz went to his fate, hke
Pierre ; declared that the murder was the result of a
mistake, that he had no hand in it, and that as he was a
gentleman, God would assuredly deal with him as such !
This ' gentleman ' accounted for his presence at the
murder as having arisen by his entertaining a quarrel
with Mr. Thynne, whom he was about to challenge, when
the Pole, mistaking his orders and inclinations, discharged
his carbine into the carriage, and slew the occupant. The
other two confessed to the murder, as the hired instru-
ments of Vratz. Count Charles John repaired to the
Court of France, where he was received in that sort of
56 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
gentlemanly foshion which Vratz looked for in Paradise.
His sword gleamed in many an action fought in various
battle-fields of Europe during the next few years, at the
head of a French regiment, of which he was colonel.
Finally, in 1686, he was in the service of the Venetians in
the Morea. On the 29th of August he was before Argos,
when a sortie was made by the garrison, and in the bloody
struggle which ensued he was mortally wounded. For
Thynne's monument in Westminster Abbey a Latin inscrip-
tion was prepared, which more than merely hinted that
Konigsmark was the murderer of Tom of Ten Thousand.
' Small, servile, Spratt,' then Dean of Westminster,
would not allow the inscription to be set up ; and his
apologists, who advance in his behalf that he would have
done wrong had he allowed a man, cleared by a jury from
the charge of murder, to be permanently set down in hard
record of marble as an assassin, have much reason in what
they advance.
The youthful maid, wife, and widow. Lady Ogle, re-
mained at Amsterdam (whither she had gone, some
persons saidy?6<i), after her marriage with Thynne, until
the three of his murderers, who had been executed,
had expiated their crime, as far as human justice was
concerned, upon the scaffold. She then returned to
England ; but the young lady did not ' appear public,'
as the phrase went, for six or seven weeks, and
when she did so, it was found that she had just married
Charles Seymour, third Duke of Somerset — a match which
made one of two silly persons and a couple of colossal
fortunes.
This red-haired lady died in the fifty-sixth year of her
age, A.D. 1722 ; and the duke, then sixty-four, found
speedy consolation for his loss in a marriage with the
youthful Lady Charlotte Finch, who was at once his wife,
nurse, and secretary. It is said of her, that she one day,
SOPHIA DOROTHEA. 57
in the course of conversation, tapped her husband fami-
harly on the shoulder with lier fan ; whereupon that
amiable gentleman indignantly cried out : ' Madam, my
first wife was a Percy, and she never took such a
liberty ! '
Konigsmark, whose fate was so bound up with that of
Sophia Dorothea, left England with his brother, and like
his brother, he led an adventurous and roving life, never be-
traying any symptom of the Christian spirit of the religion
of the Church of England, of which he first tasted what
little could be found in Major Foubert's riding-school. A
portion of his time was spent at Hamburg with his mother
and two sisters. His renown was sufficient for a cavalier
who loved to live splendidly ; and when he appeared at
the Court of Hanover, in search of military employment,
he was welcomed as cavaliers are who are so comfortably
endowed. In 1688 we first hear of him in the electoral
capital, bearing arms under the Elector and a guest at the
table of George Louis and Sophia Dorothea. This was a
year after the birth of the second and last child of that
ill- matched couple.
58 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
CHAPTER VII.
KOXIGSMAKK AT COUKT.
"Various accomplishments of Count Philip Christopher Konigsmark — The
early companion of Sophia Dorothea — Her friendship for him — An
interesting interview — Intrigues of Madame von Platen — Foiled in her
machinations — A dramatic incident — The unlucky glove — Scandal
against the honour of the princess — A mistress enraged on discovery of
her using rouge — Indiscretion of the princess — Her visit to Zell —
The Elector's criminal intimacy with Madame von der Schulenburg —
William the Norman's brutality to his wife — The elder Aymon — Bru-
tality of the Austrian Empress to ' Madame Royale ' — Return of
Sophia, and reception by her husband.
The estimation in whicli Count Philip Christopher von
Konigsmark was held at the Court of Hanover was soon
manifested, by his elevation to the post of Colonel of the
Guards. He was the handsomest colonel in the small
electoral army, and passed for the richest. His house-
hold, when thoroughly established, in 1690, consisted of
nine-and-twenty servants ; and about half a hundred
horses and mules were stalled in his stables. His way of
life was warrant for the opinion entertained of his wealth,
but more flimsy warrant could hardly have existed, for
the depth of a purse is not to be discovered by the man-
ner of life of him who owns it. He continued withal to
enchant every one with whom he came in contact. The
spendthrifts reverenced him, for he was royally extrava-
gant ; the few people of taste spoke of him encouragingly,
for at an era when little taste was shown, he exhibited much
both in his dress and his equi})ages. These were splendid
SOPHIA DOROTHEA. 59
without being gaudy. The scholars even could speak with
and of him without a sneer expressed or reserved, for
Philip Christopher was intellectually endowed, had read
more than most of the mere cavaliers of his day, and had
a good memory, with an understanding whose digestive
powers a philosopher might have envied. He spelt, how-
ever, and he wrote little better than his grooms. He
was not less welcome to the soldier than the scholar,
for he had had experience in ' the tented field,' and
had earned in the ' imminently deadly breach ' much
reputation, without having been himself, in the slightest
degree, ' illustriously maimed.' Konigsmark was as
daring in speech as in arms. It is said of him that when
George Louis in crowded court once asked him why he
had quitted the Saxon service, Konigsmark replied, ' It
moved me to anger to see a prince poison the life and
happiness of his lovable young wife, by his connection
with an impudent and worthless mistress ! ' The whole
audience gaped with astonishment, and the speech was
reported in many a ballroom. But ball-rooms also
re-echoed with the ringing eulogiums of his gracefulness,
and his witty sayings are reported as having been in
general circulation ; but they have not been strong enough
to travel by the rough paths of time down to these later
days. He is praised, too, as having been satirical^' with-
out any samples of his satire having been offered for our
opinion. He was daringly irreligious, for which free-
thinkers applauded him as a man of liberal sentiments,
believing little, and fearing less. He was pre-eminently
gay, which, in modern and honest English, means that he
was terribly licentious ; and such was the temper of the
times, that probably he was as popular for this character-
istic as for all the other qualities by which he was
distinguished, put together.
There was nothing remarkable in the fact that he
6o LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
speedily attracted the notice of Sophia Dorothea. She may,
without fault, have remembered with pleasure the compa-
nion of her romping youth ; and have ' wished him well and
no harm done,' as Pierre says. lie was not a mere stranger ;
and the two met, just as the husband of Sophia Dorothea
had publicly insulted her by ostentatiously parading his
attachment and his bad taste for women, no more to be
compared with her in worth and virtue than Lais with
Lucretia. Up to this time, the only confidantes of her
secret sorrows were her mother and her faithful von
Knesebeck. She had repulsed the affected sympathy of
the Countess von Platen ; and had concealed her feelings,
when her jealousy was stirred by allusions to the
countess's sister and to Ermengarda von der Schulenburg.
The Countess von Platen, mature of age, cast admiring
eyes on Konigsmark. It is asserted, that the count had
scarcely been made Colonel of the Guards when the
Countess von Platen fixed upon him as one of the instru-
ments by which she would ruin Sophia Dorothea, and
relieve George Louis of a wife whose virtues were a con-
tinual reproach to him.
The princess had been taking some exercise in the
gardens of the palace, returning from which she met her
little son, George Augustus, whom she took from his
attendant, and with him in her arms began to ascend the
stairs which led to her apartments. Her good will was
greater than her strength, and Count Konigsmark hap-
pened to see her at the moment when she was exhibiting
symptoms of weakness and irresolution, embarrassed by
her burthen, and not knowing how to proceed with it.
The count at once, with ready gallantry, not merely
proffered, but gave his aid. He took the young
prince from his mother, ascended the stairs, holding tlie
future King of England in his arms, and at the door of
the apartment of Sophia Dorothea again consigned him to
SOPHIA DOROTHEA. 6 I
maternal keeping. They tarried for a few brief
moments at the door, exchanging a few conventional
terms of thanks and civility, when they were seen by the
ubiquitous von Platen, and out of this simple fact she
is supposed to have gradually worked the subsequent
terrible calamity which may be said to have slain both
victims, for Sophia Dorothea was only for years slowly
accomplishing death, which fell upon the cavalier so
surely and so swiftly.
This incident was reported to Ernest Augustus (Mon
Sieur, as the countess used to call him) with much
exaggeration of detail, and liberal suggestion not war-
ranted by the facts. The conduct of the princess was
mildly censured as indiscretion, that of the count as
disloyal impertinence ; and, thereto, a mountain of com-
ment seems to have been added, and a misty world
of hints, which annoyed the duke without convincing
him.
Foiled in her first attempt to ruin Sophia Dorothea, von
Platen addressed herself to the task of cementing strict
friendship with the count ; and he, a gallant cavalier,
was nothing loth, nought suspecting. Of the terms
of this friendly alliance little is known. They were
only to be judged of by the conduct of the parties whom
that alliance bound. A perfect understanding appeared
to have been established between them ; and the Countess
von Platen was often heard to rally the count upon the
love-passages in his life, and even upon his alleged admira-
tion of Sophia Dorothea. What was said jokingly, or was
intended to seem as if said jokingly, was soon accepted
by casual hearers as a sober, and a sad as sober, truth.
The countess referred often to his visits paid to Sophia
Dorothea as ^ rendezvous ' ; but at these, Fraulein von
Knesebeck was (as she subsequently affirmed) present
from first to last ; and two other ladies-in-waiting, pages,
62 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
women, and George Louis' own servant, Solinian (a Turk),
bad free and frequent ingress and egress.
This first step having been made, no time was lost in
pursuing the object for which it had been accomphshed.
At one of those splendid masquerades, iu which Ernest
Augustus especially delighted, Kouigsmark distinguished
himself above all the other guests by the variety, as well
as richness, of his costume, and by the sparkling talent with
which he supported each assumed character. He excited a
universal admiration, and — so it was said by the Countess
von Platen — in none more than in Sophia Dorothea. This
may have been true, and the poor princess may possibly
have found some oblivion for her domestic trials in
allowing herself to be amused with the exercise of the
count's dramatic talent. She honestly complimented him
on his ability, and on the advantages which the fete
derived from his presence, his talent, and his good-nature.
Out of this compliment the countess forged another link
of the chain whereby she intended to bind the princess to
a ruin from which she shoidd not escape. At this time
the countess is said to have hated the handsome Kouigs-
mark as much as she had previously admired him. He
had met her liberal advances with disregard, or had dis-
regarded her after reciprocating them. In either case,
the offence was deadly.
The next incident told is more dramatic of character,
perhaps, than any of the others. The countess had
engaged the count in conversation in a pavilion of the
gardens in the Electoral Palace, when, making the
approacli of two gentlemen an excuse for retiring, they
withdrew together. The gentlemen alluded to were
George Louis and the Count von Platen ; and these
entering tlie pavilion which had just been vacated, the
former picked up a glove which liad been dropped
by the countess. The prince recognised it by the
SOPHIA DOROTHEA. 63
embroidery, and perliaps by a crest, or some mark
impressed upon it, as being a glove belonging to bis
consort. He was musingly examining it, when a servant
entered the place, professedly in search of a glove which
the princess had lost. On some explanation ensuing, it
was subsequently discovered that Madame von Weyhe,
the sister of tlie Countess von Platen, had succeeded in
persuading Prince Maximilian to procure for her this
glove, on pretext that she wished to copy the pattern of
the embroidery upon it, and that the prince had thought-
lessly done so, leaving the glove of Madame von Weyhe
in its place. But this, which might have accounted for
its appearance in the pavilion, was not known to George
Louis, who would probably in such case have ceased to
think more of the matter, but that he was obligingly
informed that Count Konigsmark had been before him in
the pavihon where the glove was found ; been there,
indeed, with the excellent Countess von Platen, who
acknowledged the fact, adding, that no glove was on the
ground when she was there, and that tlie one found could
not have been hers, inasmuch as she never wore Nether-
land gloves — as the one in question was — but gloves
altogether of different make and quality. Konigsmark
had been there, and the glove of the Princess Sophia
Dorothea had been found there, and this German speci-
men of Mrs. Candour knew nothing beyond.
Thenceforth, George Louis was not merely rude and
faithless to his wife, but cruel in the extreme — the
degrading blow, so it was alleged, following the harsh
word. The Elector of Hanover was more just than his
rash and worthless son : he disbelieved the insinuations
made against his daughter-in-law. The Electress was
less reasonable, less merciful, less just, to her son's wife.
She treated her with a coolness which interpreted a
belief in the slander uttered against her ; and wlien
64 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
Sophia Dorotliea expressed a wish to visit her mother,
the electoral permission was given with an alacrity
which testified to the pleasure with which the Electress
of Hanover would ^v^tness the depa.rtuie of Sophia
Dorothea from her court.
Sophia Dorothea, as soon as she descended at the
gates of her father's residence, found a mother there,
indeed, ready to receive her with the arms of a mother's
love, and to feel that the love was showered upon a
daughter worthy of it. Not of like quality were the old
duke's feelincrs. Communications had been made to him
from Hanover, to the effect that his daughter was
obstinate, disobedient, disrespectful to the Elector and
Electress, neglectful of her children, and faithless in
heart, if not in fact, to their father. The Duke of Zell
had been, as he thought, slow to believe the charges
brought against his child's good name, and had applied
to the Elector for some further explanation But poor
Ernest Augustus was just then perplexed by another
domestic quarrel. His son, the ever troublesome Prince
Maximilian, having long entertained a suspicion that the
Countess von Platen's denial of the light offence laid to
her charge, of wearing romje^ was also a playful denial,
mischievously proved the fact one day, by not very
gallantly ' flicking ' from his finger a little water in which
peas had been boiled, and which was then a popularly
mischievous test to try the presence of rouge^ as, if the
latter were there, the pea-water left an indelible fieck
or stain upon it. At this indignity, the Countess von
Platen was the more enraged as her denial had been
disproved. She rushed to the feet of the Elector, and
told her complaint with an energy as if the whole state
were in peril. The Elector listened, threatened Prince
Maximilian with arrest, and wished his fomily were as
easy to govern as his electoral dominions. He had
SOPHIA DOROTHEA. 65
scarcely relieved himself of this particular source of
trouble, by binding Prince Maximilian to his, good
behaviour, when he was applied to by the Duke of
Zell on the subject of his daughter. He angrily referred
the duke to three of his ministers, who, he said, were
acquainted with the facts. Now these ministers were the
men who had expressly distorted them.
These worthy persons, if report may be trusted,
performed their wicked office with as wicked an alacrity.
However the result was reached, its • existence cannot
be denied, and its consequences were fatal to Sophia
Dorothea. The Electress Sophia is said to have at last
so thoroughly hated her daughter-in-law, as to have
entered partly into these misrepresentations, which
acquired for her the temporary wrath of her father.
But of this enmity of her mother-in-law the younger
Sophia does not appear to liave suspected anything.
Sophia Dorothea, at all events, bore her father's tem-
porary aversion with a wondering patience, satisfied
that ' time and the hour ' would at length do her
justice.
The duke's prejudice, however, was rather stubborn
of character, and he was guilty of many absurdities to
show, as he thought, that his obstinacy of ill-merited
feeling against his own child was not ill-founded. He
refused to listen to her own statement of her wrongs, in
order to show how he guarded himself against being
unduly biassed. The mother of the princess remained
her firmest friend and truest champion. If misrepre-
sentations had shaken her confidence for a moment, it
was only for a moment. She knew the disposition of
Sophia Dorothea too well to lend credit to false repre-
sentations which depicted her as a wife, compared with
whom Petruchio's Katherine would have been the
gentlest of Griseldas. As little did she believe — and to
VOL. I. F
66 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
the expression of ]ier disbelief slie gave much indignant
force gf phrase — as httle did she beheve in the sugges-
tions of the ministers of the Elector that the familiar
terms which, as they alleged, existed between the
Electoral Princess and Count Konigsmark were such as
did wroiig to her husband George Louis. Those judges
of morality had jumped to the conclusion that youth and
good looks were incompatible with propriety of conduct.
The worst that coidd have been alleged against Sophia
Dorothea at this period was, that some letters had passed
between her and Count Konigsmark, and that the latter
had once or twice had private audience of the Electoral
Princess. Whatever may be thought of such things here
in England, and in the present age, they have never been
accounted of in Germany but as commonplace circum-
stances, involving neither blame nor injury. A corre-
spondence between two persons of the respective ranks
of the Electoral Princess and the count was not an
uncommon occurrence ; save that it was not often that
two such persons had either the taste or capacity to
maintain such intercourse. As to an occasional inter-
view, such a favour, granted by ladies of rank to clever
conversational men, was as common an event as any
throughout the empire ; and as harmless as the inter-
views of Leonora and that very selfish personage, the
poet Tasso. The simple fact appears to have been that,
out of a very small imprudence — if imprudence it may
be called — the enemies of Sopliia Dorothea contrived to
rear a structure which should threaten her with ruin.
Her exemplary husband, Avho affected to hold himself
wronged by the alleged course adopted by his consort,
had abandoned her, in the worst sense of that word.
He had never, in absence, made her hours glad by
letters, whose every word is dew to a soul athirst for
assurances of even simple esteem. In his own household
SOPHIA DOROTHEA. 67 ^
his conversation was seldom or never addressed to liis
wife ; and, when it was, never to enhghten, raise, or
cheer her. She may have conversed and corresponded
with Konigsmark, but no society tlien construed such
conversation and correspondence as crimes ; and even
had they approached in this case to a hmit which would
have merited censure, the last man wdio should have
stooped to pick up a stone to cast at the reputation of his
consort was that George Louis, whose affected indignation
was expressed from a couch with Mademoiselle von der
Schulenburg at his side, and their very old-fashioned
(as to look, but not less illegitimate as to fact) baby,
playing, in much unconsciousness of her future distinction,
between them.
It was because Sophia Dorothea had not been alto-
gether tamely silent touching her own wrongs, that she
had found enemies trumpet-tongued publishing a forged
record of her transgressions. When Count von Moltke had
become implicated in the little domestic rebellion of
Prince Maximilian, some intimation was conveyed to him
that, if lie would contrive, in his defence, to mingle the
name of Sophia Dorothea in the details of the trumpery
conspiracy, so as to attach suspicion to such name, his
own acquittal would be secured. The count was a
gallant man, refused to injure an unoffending lady, and
was beheaded ; as though he had conspired to overthrow
a state, instead of having tried to help a discontented
heir in the disputed settlement of some family accounts.
The contempt of Sophia Dorothea, on discovering to
what lengths the intimacy of George Louis and Ermen-
garda von der Scliulenburg had gone, found bitter and
eloquent expression. Where an angry contest was to be
maintained, George Louis could be eloquent too ; and in
these domestic quarrels, not only is he said to have been
as coarse as any of his own grooms, but, at least on one
p 2
68 LIVES OF THE (2UEENS Of ENGLAND.
occasion, to liave proceeded to blows. His hand was on
her throat, and the wife and mother of a King of Enghmd
would have been strangled by her exasperated lord, had
it not been for the intervention of the courtiers, who
rushed in, and, presumedly, prevented murder. To such
a story wide currency was given ; and, if not exact to the
letter, neither can it be said to be without foundation.
The circumstances which led Sophia Dorothea to
formally complain of the treatment she experienced at
her husband's hands were these. One evening, after
being one of a group in the open air, witnessing an
eclipse of the moon, and listening to Leibnitz's explana-
tions, Sophia Dorothea (attended by Friiulein Knesebeck
and Madame Sassdorf) returned towards the castle.
The ladies missed their way in the dark, but they found
themselves at last at the door of a newly-erected building,
which Sophia Dorothea entered, despite Frau Sassdorf's
entreaties to the contrary. She equally disregarded the
same lady's urgent entreaties not to enter a room at the
end of the ante-chamber where the ladies were standing
together. Sophia Dorothea opened the door of the room,
and there beheld Mademoiselle von der Schulenburg on a
couch ; one hand in that of George Louis, who with
the other was rocking a sleeping baby (the future
Countess of Chesterfield) in a cradle.
After the scene of unseemly violence which followed,
and after Sophia Dorothea's recovery from a consequent
illness, she made her indignant com})laint to her husband's
parents. ' Old Sophia ' censured her son, and found
fault with So})hia Dorotliea's rashness. Ernest Augustus
intimated that all princes had their little weaknesses, and
that it was her duty to condone her husband's.
This treatment drove So[)hia Dorothea to Zell ; but
the wrath of her husband and the intrigues of von Platen
made of that residence anything but a refuj/e. The duko
SOPHIA DOROTHEA. 69
refused to give permission to liis daughter to remain
longer in liis palace than was consistent with the limit of
an ordinary visit. She petitioned most urgently, and her
mother seconded her prayer with energy as warm, that
for the present she might make of Zell a temporary home.
Her angry father would not listen to the request of either
petitioner ; on the contrary, he intimated to his daughter,
that if she did not return to Hanover by a stated period,
she would be permanently separated from her children.
On the expression of tliis threat, she ceased to press for
leave to remain longer absent from Hanover ; and when
the day named for her departure arrived, she set out once
more for the scene of her old miseries, anticipation of
misery yet greater in her heart, and with nothing to
strengthen her l^ut a mother's love, and to guide her but
a mother's counsel. Neither was able to save her from
the ruin under which she was so soon overwhelmed.
Her return liad been duly announced to the Court of
Hanover, and so much show of outward respect was
vouchsafed her as consisted in a portion of the Electoral
family repairing to the country residence of Herrnhausen
to meet her on her way, and accompany her to the
capital. Of this attention, however, she was unaware,
or was scornfully unappreciative, and she passed Herrn-
hausen at as much speed as could then be shown by
Electoral post-horses. It is said that her first intention
was to have stopped at the country mansion, where the
Electoral party was waiting to do her honour ; that she
was aware of the latter fact, but that she hurried on her
way for the reason that she saw the Countess von Platen
seated at one of the windows looking on to the road, and
that, rather than encounter lier^ she offended nearly a
whole family, who were more nice touching matters of
etiquette than they were touching matters of morality.
The members of this family, in waiting to receive a young
70 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
lady, against wliom they considered that they were not
witlioiit grounds of complaint, were lost in a sense of
horror whicli was farcical, and of indignation at violated
proprieties which must have been as comical to look at
as it no doubt was intense. The farcical nature of the
scene is to be found in the fact, that these good people,
by piling their agony beyond measure, made it ridiculous.
There was no warrant for their horror, no cause for their
indignation ; and when they all returned to Hanover,
following on the track of a young princess, whose con-
tempt of ceremony tended to give them strange suspi-
cions as to whether she possessed any remnant of virtue
at all, these very serene princes and princesses were
as supremely ridiculous as any of the smaller people
worshipping ceremony in that never-to-be-forgotten city
of Kotzebue's painting, called Krahwinkel.
When Sophia Dorothea passed by Herrnhausen, re-
gardless of the company who awaited her there, she left
the persons of a com])licated drama standing in utter
amazement on one of the prettiest of theatres. Hernn-
hausen was a name given to trim gardens, as well as to
the edifice surromided by them. At the period of which
we are treating the grounds were a scene of dehght ; the
fountains tasteful, the basins large, and the water abun-
dant. The maze, or wilderness, was the wonder of
Germany, and the orangery the pride of Europe. There
was also, what may still be seen in some of the pleasure-
grounds of German princes, a perfectly rustic theatre, com-
plete in itself, with but little help from any hand but that
of nature. The seats were cut out of the turf, the verdure
resembled green velvet, and the chances of rheumatism
must liave been many. There was no roof but the sky,
and the dressing-rooms of the actors were lofty bowers
constructed near the stage ; the whole was adorned with
a profusion of gilded statues, and kept continually damp
SOPHIA DOROTHEA. 7 1
by an incessant play of spray-scattering water-works. The
grand tableau of rage in this locahty, as Sophia Dorothea
passed unheedingly by, must liave been a spectacle worth
the contemplating. Perhaps she had passed the more
scornfully as George Louis was there, who, of all men,
must at this time have been to her the most hateful.
N
72 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
CHAPTER VIIL
THE CATASTROPHE.
The scheming mother foiled — Count Konigsmark too garrulous in his cups —
An eaves-dropper — A forged note — A mistress's revenge — Murder of the
count — The Countess Aurora Konigsmark's account of her brother's inti-
macy with the princess— Horror of the princess on hearing of the count's
death — Seizure and escape of Mademoiselle von Knesebeck — A divorce
mooted — The princess's declaration of her innocence — Decision of the
consistorial court — The sages of the law foiled by the princess — Con-
demned to captivity in the castle of Ahlden — Decision procured by
bribery — Bribery universal in England — The Countess Aurora Konigs-
mark becomes the mistress of Augustus, King of Poland — Tier unsuc-
cessful mission to Charles XII. — Exemplary conduct in her latter years —
Becomes prioress of the nunnery of Quedlinburg.
With the return of Sophia Dorothea to Hanover, her
enemies appear to have commenced more actively their
operations against her. George Louis was languidly
amusing himself with Ermengarda von dei Schulenburg
and tlieii- little daughter Tetronilla Melusina. The Countess
von Platen was in a state of irritability at the presence of
Sophia Dorothea and the absence of Konigsmark. The
last-mentioned person had, in his wide-s]:)read adoration,
offered a portion of his homage to both the countess and
her daugliter. The elder lady, while accepting as much
of the incense for herself as was safe to inhale, endeavoured
to secure tlie count as a husband for her daughter. Her
lailure only increased her bitterness against the count,
and by no means lent less asperity to the sentiment with
which she viewed Sophia Dorothea. She was, no doubt.
SOPHIA DOROTHEA. 73
the chief cause, primarily and approximate, of the ruin
which fell upon both.
It was not merely the absence of Konigsmark, who
was on a visit to the riotous court of Augustus of Saxony,
which had scared her spirit ; the reports which wei'e made
to her of his conversation there gave fierceness to her
resentment, and called into existence that desire of
vengeance which she accomplished, but without profiting
by the wickedness.
There was no more welcome 2;uest at Dresden than
Konigsmark. An individual, so gallant of bearing, hand-
some of feature, easy of principle, and lively of speech, was
sure to be warmly welcomed at that dissolute court. He
played deeply, and whatever sums he might lose, he never
lost his temper. He drank as deeply as he played, and he
then became as loquacious as Cassio, but more given to
slander. He spoke ill of others out of mere thoughtless-
ness, or at times out of mere vanity. He possessed not
what Swift calls the ' lower prudence ' of discretion.
His vanity, and the stories to which it prompted him,
seemed to amuse and interest the idle and scandalous
court where he was so welcome a guest.
He kept the illustriously wicked company there in an
uninterrupted ecstacy by the tales he told, and the point
he gave to them, of the chief personages of the Court of
Hanover. He retailed anecdotes of the Elector and his
son, George Louis, and warmly-tinted stories of the shame-
less mistresses of that exemplary parent, and no less
exemplary child. He did not spare even the Electress
Sophia ; but she was, after all, too respectable for Konigs-
mark to be able to make of her a subject of ridicule. This
subject he found in ladies of smaller virtue and less merit
generally. But every word he uttered, in sarcastic de-
scription of the hfe, character, and behaviour of the
favourites of the Elector of Hanover and his son, found
74 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
its way, with no loss of pungency on the road, to the ears
of those persons whom the report was most hkely to
offend. His warm advocacy of Sophia Dorothea, ex-
pressed at the table of Augustus of Saxony, was only an
additional offence ; and George Louis w\as taught to think
that Count Konigsmark had no right to ask, with Pierre,
* May not a man wish his friend's wife well, and no harm
done ? '
The count returned to Hanover soon after Sophia
Dorothea had arrived there, subsequent to her painful
visit to the little court of her ducal parents at Zell.
Konigsmark, who had entered the Saxon service, returned
to Hanover to complete the form of withdrawal from
service in the Hanoverian army. It is alleged that Sophia
Dorothea, otherwise friendless, entreated him to procure
her an asylum, or to protect her in her flight to the
court of her kinsman, Duke Anton Ulrich, at Wolfen-
biittel. The duke is reported to have been willing to
receive her. Other reports state that the princess was
more than willing to fly with Konigsmark to Paris ! Out
of all such rumours there is this certainty, that on Sunday,
the 1st of July 1694 (George Louis being then in Berlin),
Konigsmark found a letter in pencil on a table in the
sitting-room of his house in Hanover. It was to this effect :
' To-night, after ten o'clock, the Princess Sophia Dorothea
will expect Count Konigsmark.' He recognised the hand
of the princess. All that afternoon he was busy writing.
His secretary and servants thought his manner strange.
He went out soon after ten, unattended. He was in a
light, simple, summer-dress. He went on his way to the
palace, crossed the threshold, and never was seen outside
it again.
The note was a forged document, confessedly by
the Countess von Platen, when confession came too late
for the repair of evil which could not be undone. Never-
SOPHIA DOROTHEA. 75
theless, the count, on presenting himself to Mademoiselle
Knesebeck, the lady of honour to the princess, was
admitted to the presence of the latter. This indiscreet
step was productive of terrible consequences to all the
three who were present. The count, on being asked to
explain the reason of his seeking an interview with the
princess at an advanced hour of the evening, produced
the note of invitation, which Sophia Dorothea at once
pronounced to be a forgery. Had they then separated
little of ill consequence might have followed. The most
discreet of the three, and the most perplexed at the
' situation,' was the lady of honour. The ' Memoirs ' which
bear her name, and which describe this scene, present to
us a woman of some weakness, yet one not wanting in
discernment.
Sophia Dorothea, it would seem, could dwell upon no
subject but that of her domestic troubles, the cruel neglect
of her husband, and her desire to find somewhere the
refuge from persecution which had been denied to her in
her old home at Zell. More dangerous topics could not
have been treated by two such persons. The count, it is
affirmed, was the first to suggest that Paris would afford her
such a refuge, and that he should be but too happy to be
permitted to give her such protection as she could derive
from his escort thither. This was probably rather hinted
than suggested ; but however that may be, only one
course should have followed even a distant hint leadino- to
so unwarrantable an end. The interview should have
been brought to a close. It was still continued, never-
theless, to the annoyance, if not scandal, of the faithful
Knesebeck, whose fears may have received some Httle
solace on hearing her mistress reiterate her desire to find
at least a temporary home at the court of her cousin, Duke
Anton Ulric of Wolfenbiittel.
While this discussion was proceeding, the Countess
76 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
vou Platen was by no means idle. She had watched the
count to tlie bower into which she had sent him by the
employment of a false lure, and she thereupon hastened to
the Elector to communicate what she termed her discovery.
Ernest Augustus, albeit waxing old, was by no means
infirm of judgment. If Konigsmark was then in the
chamber of his daughter-in-law, he refused to see in the
fact anything more serious than its own impropriety,
That^ however, was crime enough to warrant the arrest
which the countess solicited. The old Elector yielded to
all she asked, except credence of her assurance that Sophia
Dorothea must be as guilty as Konigsmark was presuming.
He would consent to nothing further than the arrest of
him who was guilty of the presumption ; and the method
of this arrest he left to the conduct of the countess, who
urgently solicited it as a favour, and with solicitation of
such earnestness that the old Elector affected to be jealous
of the interest she took in such a case, and added playfully
the expression of his opinion, that, angry as she seemed
to be with the count, he was too handsome a man to be
likely to meet with ill-treatment at her hands.
Armed with this permission, slie proceeded to the
body of soldiers or watch for the night, and exliibiting
her written warrant for what she demanded, requested
that a guard might be given to her, for a purpose which
she would explain to them. Some four or five men of this
household body were told off, and these were conducted
by her to a large apartment, called the Hall of Knights,
througli which Konigsmark must pass, as he had not yet
quitted the princess's chamber.
They were then informed that their office was to arrest
a criminal, whose person was described to them, of whose
safe custody the Elector was so desirous that he would
rather that such criminal sliould be slain than that he should
escape. They were accordingly instructed to use their
SOPHIA DOROTHEA. J J
weapons if he should resist ; and as their courage had
been heightened by the double bribe of much wine and a
shower of gold pieces, they expressed their willingness to
execute her bidding, and only too well showed by their
subsequent act the sincerity of their expression.
At length Konigsmark appeared, coming from the
princess's apartment. It was now midnight. He entered
the Eitter Hall, unsuspecting the fate before him. In
this hall was a huge, square, ponderous stove, looking like
a mausoleum, silent and cold. It reached from floor to
roof, and, hidden by one of its sides, the guard awaited the
coming of the count. He approached the spot, passed it,
was seized from behind, and he immediately drew his
sword to defend himself from attack. His enemies gave
him but scant opportunity to assail them in his own defence,
and after a few wild passes with his weapon, he was struck
down by the spear, or old-fashioned battle-axe, of one
of the (jjuards, and when lie fell there were three wounds
in him, out of any one of which life might find passage.
On feehng himself grow faint, he — and in this case,
like a true and gallant man— thought of the lady and her
reputation. The last words he uttered were, ' Spare the
innocent princess!' soon after which he expired; but not
before, as is reported by those who love to dwell minutely
on subjects of horror, not before the Countess von Platen
had set her foot triumphantly upon his bloody face.
Such is the German detail of this assassination. It is
added, that it gave extreme annoyance to the Elector, to
whom it was immediately communicated ; that the body
was forthwith consigned to a secure resting-place, and
covered with lime; and that the whole bloody drama
was enacted without any one being aware of what was
going on, save the actors themselves.
In Cramer's ' Memoirs of the Countess of Konigsmark,'
the fete of the count is told upon the alleged evidence of
78 LIVES OF THE (JUEENS OF ENGLAND.
a so-called eye-witness. It diflfers in several respects from
other accounts, but is clear and simple in its details. It is
to the following effect : —
'Bernhard Zayer, a native of Heidelberg, in the
Palatinate, a wax-image maker and artist in lacquer- work,
was engaged by the Electoral Princess to teach her his art.
Being, on this account, continually in the princess's
apartment, he had frequently seen Count Konigsmark
there, who looked on while the princess worked. He
once learned in confidence, from tlie Electoral Princess's
croom of the chaml^ers, tliat the Electoral Prince was
displeased about the count, and had sworn to break his
neck, whicli Bernhard revealed to the princess, who
answered : — " Let them attack Konigsmark : he knows how
to defend himself. " Some time afterwards there was an
opera, but the princess was unwell and kept her bed. The
opera began, and as the count was absent as well as the
princess, first a page and then the hoff-fourier were sent
out for intelhgence. The hoff-fourier came back running,
and whispered to the Electoral Prince, and then to his
highness the Elector. But the Electoral Prince went away
from the opera witli the hoff-fourier. Now Bernhard saw
all this and knew what it meant, and as he knew the
count was with the princess, he left the opera secretly, to
warn her ; and as he went in at the door, the other door
was opened, and two masked persons rushed in, one
exclaiming, " So ! then I find you !" The count, who was
stitting on the bed, witli liis back to the door by which
the two entered, started up, and wliipped out his sword,
saying, " Wlio can say anytliing unbecoming of me ? " The
princess, clasping lier hands, said " I, a princess, am I not
allowed to converse with a gentleman?" But the masks,
without listening to reason, slashed and stabbed away at
the count. ]3ut he pressed so upon both, that the Electoral
Prince unmasked, and begged for his life, while the hoff-
SOPHIA DOROTHEA. 79
fourier came behind the count, and run him through
between the ribs with his sword, so tliat he fell, saying,
" You are murderers, before God and man, who do me
wrong ! " But they both of them gave him more wounds,
so that he lay as dead. Bernhard, seeing all this, hid
himself behind the door of the other room. '
Bernhard was subsequently sent by the princess to spy
out what they would do with Konigsmark.
' When the count was in the vault, he came a little to
himself, and spoke : — " You take a guiltless man's hfe.
On that I'll die, but do not let me perish like a dog, in my
blood and my sins. Grant me a priest, for my soul's sake, "
Then the Electoral Prince went out, and the fourier remained
alone with him. Then was a strange parson fetched, and
a strange executioner, and the fourier fetched a great
chair. And when the count had confessed, he was so
weak that three or four of them lifted him into the chair ;
and there in the prince's presence was his head laid at his
feet. And they had tools with them, and they dug a
hole in the right corner of the vault, and there they laid
him, and there he must be to be found. When all was
over, this Bernhard slipped away from the castle ; and
indeed Counsellor Lucius, who was a friend of the princess's,
sent him some of his livery to save him ; for they sought
him in all corners, because they had seen him in the room
during the affray. . . . And what Bernhard Zayer saw in
the vault, he saw through a crack. '
Clear as this narrative is in its details, it is contradictory
and rests on small basis of truth. The Electoral Prince
was undoubtedly absent on the night Konigsmark was
murdered.
The Countess Aurora of Konigsmark has left a state-
ment of her brother's intimacy with the princess, in
which the innocence of the latter is maintained, but his
imprudence acknowledged. The statement referred to
8o LIVES OF THE (JUEENS OF ENGLAND.
explains the guilty nature of the intercourse kept up
between Kunigsmark and the Countess von Platen. It is
written in terms of extreme iudelicacy. We may add
that the faithful von Knesebeck, on whose character no
one ever cast an imputation, in her examination before
the judges, argued the innocence of her accused mistress
upon grounds the nature of which cannot even be alluded
to. The princess, it is clear, had urged Konigsmark to
renew his interrupted intrigue with von Platen, out of
dread that the latter, taking the princess as the cause
of the intercourse having been broken off, should work a
revenge, which she did not hesitate to menace, upon the
princess herself.
The details of all the stories are marked by great im-
probability, and they have not been substantiated by the
alleged death-bed confessions of the Countess von Platen,
and Baumain, one of the guards — the two criminals
having, without so intending it, confessed to the same
clergyman, a minister named Kramer ! Tliough these
confessions are spoken of, and are even cited by German
authors, their authenticity cannot be warranted. At all
events, there is an English version of the details of this
murder given by Horace Walpole ; and as that lively
writer founded his lugubrious details upon authority which
he deemed could not be gainsaid, they may fairly find a
place, by way of supplement to the foreign version.
' Konigsmark's vanity,' says Walpole, ' the beauty of
the Electoral Princess, and the neglect under which he
found her, encouraged his presumptions to make his
addresses to her, not covertly, and she, though beheved
not to have transgressed her duty, did receive them too
indiscreetly. The old Elector flamed at the insolence of
so stigmatised a pretender, and ordered him to quit his
dominions the next day. This princess, surrounded by
women too closely connected with lier husband and con-
SOPHIA DOROTHEA. 8 1
sequeiitly enemies of the lady they injured, was persuaded
by them to suffer the count to kiss her hand, before his
a,brupt departure ; and lie was actually introduced by
them into her bedchamber the next morning before she
rose. From that moment he disappeared, nor was it
known what became of him, till on the death of George
I., on his son, the new King's first journey to Hanover,
some alterations in the jialace being ordered by him, the
body of Konigsmark was discovered under the floor of
the Electoral Princess's dressing-room — the count having
probably been strangled there, the instant he left her,
and his body secreted. The discovery was hushed up.
George II, (the son of Sophia Dorothea) entrusted the
secret to his wife. Queen Caroline, who told it to my
i^ither ; but the King was too tender of the lionour of his
mother to utter it to his mistress ; nor did Lady SufTolk
ever hear of it, till I informed her of it several years
afterwards. The disappearance of the count made his
murder suspected, and various reports of the discovery of
his body have of late years been spread, but not with the
authentic circumstances.'
To turn to the German sources of information : we
are told by these, that after the departure of Konigsmark
from the chamber of the princess, she was engaged in
arranging her papers, and in securing her jewels, prepara-
tory, as slie hoped, to her anticipated removal to the Court of
Wolfe nbiittel. Konigsmark must have been murdered and
the body made away with silently and swiftly, for not a
dweller in the palace was disturbed h^ the doing of this
bloody deed. All signs of its having been done had been so
effaced that no trace of it was left to attract notice in the
early morning. On that next morning the count's servants
were not troubled at his absence ; such an occurrence was
not uimsual. When it was prolonged and enquiry became
necessary, nothing could be learnt of him. Every soul
VOL. I. « .
82 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
ill the paliice was .silent, designedly or tlu'ough ignorance.
Rumour, of course, was busy and full of confidence in
what it put forth. George Louis himself said that the
gay count would reappear, perhaps, when least expected.
The tremendous secret was faithfully kept by the few
who knew the truth ; and when speculation was busiest
as to the count's whereabout, there was probably no atom
of his body left, if it be true that it had been cast into a
drain and had been consumed in slack-lime.
The princess was, for a time, kept in ignorance of the
count's assassination ; but she was perplexed by his dis-
appearance, and alarmed when she heard that all his
papers had been seized and conveyed to the Elector for
his examination. Some notes had passed between them :
and, innocent as they were, she felt annoyed at the
thought that their existence should be known, still more
that they should be perused. To their most innocent
expressions the Countess von Platen, who examined
them with the Elector, gave a most guilty interpretation ;
and she so wrought upon Ernest Augustus, that he com-
missioned no less a person than the Count von Platen to
interrogate the princess on the subject. She did not lack
spirit ; and when the coarse-minded count began to put
coarse questions to her, as to the degree of intercourse
which had existed between herself and the count, she
spiritedly remarked that he appeared to imagine that he
was examining into the conduct of his own wife ; a thrust
which he repaid by bluntly informing her that whatever
intercourse may have existed, it would never be renewed,
seeing that sure intelligence had been received of Konigs-
mark's death.
Sophia Dorothea, shocked at this information, and at
the manner in which it was conveyed, had no friend in
whom she could rejiose confidence but her faithful lady-
in-waiting, Fraulein von Knesebeck. The ])rincess could
have had no more ardent defender than this worthy
SOPHIA DOROTHEA. 83
attendant. But the assertions made by the latter, in
favour of the mistress whom she loved, were not at all to
the taste of the enemies of that mistress, and tlie speedy
result was, that Fraulein von Knesebeck was arrested and
carried away to the castle of Schartzfeld in the Hartz.
She was there kept in confinement many years ; but she
ultimately escaped so cleverly through the roof, by the
help of a tiler, or a friend in the likeness of a tiler, that
the credit of the success of the attempt was given by the
governor of the gaol to the demons of the adjacent
mountains. She subsequently became lady-in-waiting to
Sophia Dorothea's daughter.
Sophia Dorothea had now but one immediate earnest
wish, namely, to retire from Hanover. Already the
subject of a divorce had been mooted, but the Elector
being somewhat fearful that a divorce might affect his
son's succession to his wife's inheritance, and even obstruct
the union of Zell with Hanover, an endeavour was made
to reconcile the antagonistic spouses, and to bury past
dissensions in oblivion.
It was previous to this attempt being entered upon,
and perhaps because it was contemplated, that the
princess voluntarily underwent a very solemn ordeal.
The ceremony was as public as it could be rendered by
the presence of part of the Electoral family and the great
official dignitaries of the church and government. Before
them Sophia Dorothea partook of the sacrament, and
then made solemn protestation of her innocence, and of
her unspotted faith towards the Electoral Prince, her
husband. At the termination of this ceremony she was
insulted by an incredidous smile which she saw upon the
face of Count von Platen ; whereat the natural woman
was moved within her to ask him if his own excellent
wife could take the same oath, in attestation of her
unbroken faithfulness to him I
G 2
84 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
Tlie strange essay at reconciliation was marred by an
attempt made to indnce the Electoral Princess to confess
that she had been guilty of sins of disobedience towards
the expressed will of her consort. All endeavour in this
direction was fruitless; and though grave men made it, it
shows how very little they comprehended their delicate
mission. The princess remained fixed in her desire to
withdraw from Hanover ; but when she was informed of
the wound this would be to the feelings of the Elector and
Electress, and that George Louis himself was heartily
averse to it, she began to waver, and applied to her
friends at Zell, among others to Bernstorf, the Hanoverian
minister there, asking for counsel in this her great need.
Bernstorf, an ally of the von Platens, secretly advised
her to insist upon leaving Hanover. He assured her,
pledging his word for what he said, that she would find a
happy asylum at Zell ; that even her father, so long
estranged from her, would receive her with open arms ;
and that in the adoption of such a step alone could she
hope for happiness and peace during the remainder of her
life.
• She was as untruthfully served by some of the ladies
of her circle, who, while professing friendship and fidelity,
were really the spies of her husband and her husband's
mistress. They were of that class of women who were
especially bred for courts and court intrigues, and whose
hopes of fortune rested upon their doing credit to their
education.
As the princess not merely insisted upon quitting
Hanover, but firmly refused to acknowledge that she had
been guilty of any wrong to her most guilty husband, a
course was adopted by her enemies which, they considered,
would not merely punish her, but would transfer her
possessions to her consort, Avithout affecting the long pro-
jected union of Zell, after the duke's death, with the
' '-- SOPHIA DOROTHEA. 85
territory of Hanover. An accusation of adultery, even if
it could be sustained, of which there was not the shadow
of a chance, might, if carried out and followed by a
divorce, in some way affect the transfer of a dominion to
Hanover, which transfer rested partly on the rights of the
wife of the Electoral Prince. A divorce might destroy the
ex-husband's claims ; but he was well-provided with
lawyers to watch and guard the case to an ultimate
conclusion in his favour.
A Consistorial Court was formed, of a strangely mixed
character, for it consisted of four ecclesiastical lawyers
and four civil authorities of Hanover and Zell. It had
no other authority to warrant its proceedings than the
command or sanction of the Elector, and the consent of
the Duke of Zell, whose ill-feeling towards his child
seemed to increase daily. The only charge laid against
the princess before this anomalous court was one of
incompatibility of temper, added to some little failings of
character ; not the most distant allusion to serious guilt
with Konigsmark, or any one else, was made. His name
was never once mentioned. Her consent to live again in
Hanover and let by-gones be by-gones was indignantly
refused by her. She would never, she protested, live
again among people who had murdered the only man in
the world who loved her well enough to be a friend to
her who was otherwise friendless. Her passionate tears
flowed abundantly ; Fraulein von Knesebeck states that
whenever the mysterious fate of Konigsmark was referred
to, the princess's grief was so violent that it might almost
lead those who witnessed it to suspect that she took too
great an interest in the man made away with almost at
her chamber-door.
The court affected to attempt an adjustment of the
matter ; but as the attempt was always based on another
to drag from the princess a confession of her having,
86 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
wittingly or unwittingly, given cause of offence to her hus-
band, she continued firmly to refuse to place her consort in
the right by doing herself and her cause extremest wrong.
In the meantime, during an adjournment of the court,
she withdrew to Lauenau. She was prohibited from
repairing to Zell, but there was no longer any opposition
made to her leaving the capital of the Electorate. She was,
however, strictly prohibited from taking her children with
her. Her parting from these was as painful a scene as
can well be imagined, for she is said to have felt that she
would nevei- again be united with them. Her son,
George Augustus, was then ten years of age ; her
daughter, Sophia, was still younger. The homage of
these children was rendered to their mother long after
their hearts liad ceased to pay any to their father beyond
a mere conventional respect.
In her temporary retirement at Lauenau, she was
permitted to enjoy very little repose. The friends of the
Electoral Prince seem to have been anxious lest she should
publish more than was yet known of the details of his
private life. This fear alone can account for their anxiety,
or professed anxiety, for a reconciliation. The lawyers,
singly or in couples, and now and then a leash of them
together, went down to Lauenau to hold conference with
her. They assailed her socially, scripturally, legally ;
they pointed out how salubrious was the discipline which
subjected a wife to confess her faults. They read to her
whole chapters from Corinthians, on the duties of married
ladies, and asked her if she could be so obstinate and
unorthodox as to disregard the injunctions of St, Paul.
Finally, they quoted codes and pandects, to prove that a
sentence might be j)r()nounced against her under contu-
macy, and conclud(,'d by lecommending her to trust to
the mercy of the Crown Prince, if she would but cast
herself upon \\\> honour.
SOPHIA DOROTHEA. 87
Tliey were grave men ; sage, learned, experienced
men ; crafty, cunning, far-seeing men ; in all the circles
of the empire men were not to be found more skilled in
surmounting difficulties than these indefatigable men, who
were all foiled by the simplicity and firmness of a mere
child. ' If I am guilty,' said she, ' I am unworthy of the
prince : if I am innocent, he is unworthy of me ! '
Here was a conclusion with which she utterly con-
founded the sages. They could not gainsay it, nor refute
the logic by which it was arrived at, and which gave it
force. They were ' perplexed in the extreme,' but neither
social experience, nor scriptm^al reading, nor legal know-
ledge afforded them weapons wherewith to beat down
the simple defences behind which the princess had en-
trenched herself. They tried repeatedly, but tried in
vain. At the end of every trial she slowly and calmly
enunciated the same reply : — ' If I am guilty I am un-
worthy of him : if I am innocent, he is unworthy of
me ! '
From this text she would not depart ; nor could all
the chicanery of all the courts of Germany move her.
' At least,' said the luminaries of the law, as they took
their way homewards, re infecta^ ' at least this woman
may, of a surety, be convicted of obstinacy.' We always
stigmatise as obstinate those whom we cannot convince.
It is the only, and the poor, triumph of the vanquished.
This triumph was achieved by the Consistory Court,
the members of which, unable to prove the princess
guilty of crime, were angry because she would not even
confess to the commission of a fault ; that is, of such a
fault as should authorise her husband, covered with guilt
triple-piled, to separate from her person, yet maintain
present and future property over her estates.
In point of fact, George Louis did not wish to be
separated from his wife. His counsel, Rath Livius, ac-
88 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
cused her, in lier Imsbaiid's ntnne, of lack of both love
and obedience towards him ; of having falsely charged
him with infidelity, to his parents and her own ; and of
having repeatedly refused to again live with him ; for
this act of disobedience, and for no other reason, he asked
the judgment of the court. Sophia Dorothea's own
counselloi's, Rudolph Thies and Joachin von Bulow, put
it to her whether she would return to her husband or
abide judgment for disobeying his repeated desire. No-
thing could move her. She despised her husband, and
would never again live under the same roof with him.
Her own desire was to live, henceforward, in seclusion —
to pass the remainder of her unhappy life in peace and
humihation.
The court came to a decision on the 28th of December,
1694. Their judgment was, that as she refused to live
with her liusband, she was guilty of desertion, and on
that ground alone a decree of separation, or divorce, was
recorded. Wlien told that she had a right to appeal, she
contemptuously refused to avail lierself of it. The terms
of the sentence were extraordinary, for they amounted
to a decree of divorce without expressly mentioning
the fact. The judgment, wherein nothing was
judged, conferred on the prince, George Louis, the
rigjit of mariying again, if he should be so minded and
could find a lady willing to be won. It, however, ex-
j)licitly debarred liis wife from entering into a second
uni(^n. Not a word was written down against her, alleging
that she was criminal. The name of Konigsma.rk was
not even alluded to. Notwithstanding these facts, and
that the husliand was the really guilty party, while the
utmost which can be said against the princess was that
she may have been indiscreet — notwithstanding this, not
only was he declared to be an exceedingly injured in-
dividual, l)ut tlie ])o()r lady, whom he held in his heart's
SOFHIA DOROTHEA. 89
hottest hate, was deprived of lier property, possession of
which was transferred to George Louis, in trust for tlie
ciiildren ; and the princess, endowed with an annual pen-
sion of some eight or ten thousand thalers, wtts condennied
to close captivity in the castle of Ahlden, near Zell, with
a retinue of domestics, whose office was to watch her
actions, and a body of armed gaolers, whose only duty
was to keep the captive secure in her bonds.
Sophia Dorothea entered on her imprisonment with a
calm, if not with a cheerful lieart : certainly with more
placidity and true joy than George Louis felt, siu'rounded
by his mistresses and all the pomp of the Electoral State.
All Germany is said to have been scandalised by the
judgment delivered by the court. The illegality and the
incompetency of the court from which it emanated, were
so manifest, that the sentence was looked upon as a mere
wanton cruelty, carrying with it neither conviction nor
lawful consequence. So satisfied was the princess's
advocate on this point that he requested her to give him
a letter declaring him non-responsible for having so far
recognised the authority of the court as to have pleaded
her cause before it ! What is perhaps more singular still
is the doubt which long existed whether this court ever
sat at all ; and whether decree of separation or divorce
was ever pronounced in the cause of Sophia Dorothea of
Zell and George Louis, Electoral Prince of Hanover.
Horace Walpole says, on this subject : ' I am not
acquainted with the laws of Germany relative to divorce
or separation, nor do I know or su})pose that despotism
and pride allow the law to insist on much formality when
a sovereign has reason or mind to get rid of his wife.
Perhaps too much difficulty in untying the Gordian knot
of matrimony, thrown in the way of an absolute prince,
would be no kindness to the ladies, but might prompt
him to use a sharper weapon, like that butchering hus-
90 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
band, our Henry VIII. Sovereigns who narrow or let out
the law of God according to their prejudices and passions
mould their own laws, no doubt, to the standard of their
convenience.' Genealogic purity of blood is the pre-
dominant folly of Germany ; and the Code of Malta
seems to have more force in the empire than the Ten
Connnandments. Thence was introduced that most
absurd evasion of tlie indissolubility of marriage, espousals
with the left hand, as if the Almiglity had restrained his
ordinance to one half of a man's person, and allowed a
greater latitude to his left side than to his right, or pro-
nounced the former more ignoble than the latter. The
consciences both of princely and noble persons in Ger-
many are quieted if the more plebeian side is married to
one who would degrade the more illustrious moiety ; but,
as if the laws of matrimony had no reference to the
children to be thence propagated, tlie children of a left-
handed alliance are not entitled to inherit. Shockinsj con-
sequence of a senseless equivocation, wliicli oidy satisfies
pride, not justice, and is calculated for an acquittal at
tlie herald's office, not at the last tribunal.
' Se})arated the Princess (Sophia) Dorothea certainly
was, and never admitted even to the nominal honours of
her rank, being thenceforward always styled the Duchess
of Halle (Ahlden). Whether divorced is problematic, at
least to me ; nor can I pronounce — as, though it was gene-
rally believed, I am not certain — that George espoused the
Duchess of Kendal (Mdlle. von der Schidenburg) with his
left hand. But though German casuistry might allow a
husband to take another wife with his left hand because
his legal wife had suffered her right hand to be kissed by
a gallant, even Westphalian or Aulic counsellors could
not have pronounced that such a momentary adieu
constituted adultery ; and, therefore, of a formal divorce I
must doubt ; and there I must leave that case of conscience
SOPHIA DOROTHEA. 9 1
undecided until future search into the Hanoverian Chan-
cery shall clear up a point of little real importance.'
Coxe, in his Memoirs of Walpole, says, on the other
hand, very decidedly :—' George I., who never loved his
wife, gave implicit credit to the acc(junt of her infidelity,
as related by his father ; consented to her imprisonment,
and obtained from the ecclesiastical consistory a divorce,
which was passed on the 20th of December 1694.'
The researches into the Chancery of Hanover, which
Walpole left to posterity, appear to have been made, and
the decree of the Consistorial Court which condemned
Sophia Dorothea has been copied and published. It
is quoted in the ' Life of the Princess,' published anony-
mously in 184:5, and it is inserted below for the benefit of
those who like to read history by the light of documents.
It has been said that such a decree could only have
been purchased by rank bribery, which is likely enougli ;
for the courts of Germany were so utterly corrupt that
nothing could equal them in inftxmy — except the cor-
ruption which prevailed in England.
' In the matrimonial suit of the illustrious Prince
George Louis, Crown Prince of Hanover, against his
consort, the illustrious Princess Sophia Dorothea, we,
constituted president and judges of the Matrimonial
Court of the Electorate and Duchy of Brunswick-
Lunenberg, declare and pronounce judgment, after
attempts have been tried and have failed, to settle the
matter amicably^ and, in accordance with the documents
and verbal declarations of the Princess, and other detailed
circumstances, we agree that her continued denial of
matrimonial duty and cohabitation is well founded, and
consequently that it is to be considered as an intentional
desertion. In consequence whereof, we consider, sen-
tence, and declare the ties of matrimony to be entirely
dissolved and annulled. Since, in similar cases of deser-
92 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
tion, it lias been permitted to the iunocent party to
re-marry, which the other is forbidden, the same judicial
power will be exercised in the present instance in favour
of his Serene Highness the Crown Prince.
' Published in the Consistorial Court at Hanover,
December 28th, 1694.
(Signed) ' Phillip Von Busche.
Francis Eichfeld (Pastor).
Anthony George Hildberg.
Gerhardt Art.
gustavus molan.
Bernhard Spilken.
Erythropal.
David Eupertus.
H. L. Hattorf.'
The work from which the above document is extracted
furnishes also the following, as a copy of the letter written
by the princess at the lequest of the legal conductor of
her case, as ' security from proceedings in relation to his
connexion with her affairs : ' —
' As we have now, after being made acquainted with
the sentence, given it proper consideration, and resolved
not to offer any opposition to it, our solicitor must act
accordingly, and is not to act or proceed any further in
this matter. For the rest, we hereby declare that we are
gratefully content with the conduct of our aforesaid
solicitor of the Court, Thies, and that by this we free him
from all responsibility regarding these transactions.
(Signed) 'Sophia Dorothea.
' Lauenau, December .'il, 1694.'
By this last document it would seem tliat tlie Hof-
Rath Thies would have denied the competency of the
ct)urt had he been permitted to do so ; and that he was
so convinced of its illegality tis to require a written
SOPHIA DOROTHEA. 93
prohibition from asserting the same, and acknowledgment
of exemption from all responsibility, before he would feel
satisfied that he had accomplished his duty towards his
illustrious client.
Long before the case was heard, and four months
previous to the publication of the sentence of the Consis--
torial Court, the two brothei-s, the Elector of Hanover
and the Duke of Zell, had actually agreed by an enact-
ment that the unhappy marriage between the cousins
should be dissolved. The enactment provided for the
means whereby this end was to be achieved, and for the
disposal of the princess during the progress of the case.
The anonymous author of the biography of 1845 then
proceeds to state that ' It was therein specified that her
domestics should take a particular oath, and that the
princess should enjoy an annual income of eight thousand
thalers (exclusive of the wages of her household), to be
increased one-half on the death of her father, with a
further increase of six thousand thalers on her attaining
the age of forty years. It was provided that the castle of
Ahlden should be her permanent residence, where she
was to remain well guarded. The domain of Wilhehns-
burg, near Hamburg, was, at the death of the Duke of
Zell, to descend to the prince, son of the Princess Sophia
Dorothea — the Crown Prince, however, during his own
life retaining the revenues ; but should the grandson die
before his father, the property would then, on payment
of a stipulated sum, be inherited by the successor in the
government of the son of the Elector. By a further
arrangement, the mother of the princess was to possess
Wienhausen, with an annual income of twelve thousand
thalers, secured on the estates of Schernebeck, Garze,
and Bluettingen ; the castle at Lunenburg to be allowed
as her residence from the commencement of her widow-
hood.'
94 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
Never was so mucli care taken to secure property on
one side, and tlie person on the other. The contracting
parties appear to have been afraid lest the prisoner should
ever have an opportunity of appealing against the wrong
of which she was made the victim ; and her strait
imprisonment was but the effect of that fear. That
nothing might be neglected to make assurance doubly
sure, and to deprive her of any help she might hope
hereafter to receive at the hands of a father, wliose heart
might possibly be made to feel his own injustice and his
daughter's sorrows, the Duke of Zell was induced to
promise that he would neither see nor hold connnunication
with the daughter he had repudiated.
During the so-called trial, at Lauenau, the princess
resided in the chief official residence in that place. At
the close of the inquiry she took a really final leave of
her children — George Augustus and Sophia Dorothea
— with bitter tears, which would have been more bitter
still if she had thought that she was never again to
look upon them. She had concluded that she would
have liberty to live with her mother in Zell. She had
no idea that her father had already agreed to his brother
the Elector's desire that she should be shut up in the
castle of Ahlden. She found herself a state prisoner.
The oath to be taken by her appointed household, or
rather by the personal attendants — counts and countesses
in waiting and persons of similar rank — was stringent and
illustrative of the importance attached to the safe-keeping
of the prisoner. It was to the effect ' that nothing should
be wanting to prevent anticipated intrigues ; or for the
perfect security of the place fixed as a residence for the
Princess Sophia Dorothea, in order to maintain tranquility,
and to ])revent any oj)portuiiity oc<"urring to an enemy
for undertaking or imagining anything which might cause
a division in the illustrious family.'
95
CHAPTEE IX.
PEISON AND PALACE.
The prison of the captive Sophia Dorothea — Employment of her time — The
church of Ahlden repaired by her — Cut off" from her children — Sym-
pathy of Ernest Augustus for his daughter-in-law — Her father's returning
affection for her — Opening prospects of the House of Hanover — Lord Mac-
clesfield's embassy to Hanover, and his right-royal reception — Description
of the Electress — Toland's description of Prince George Louis — Magnifi-
cent present to Lord Macclesfield — The Princess Sophia and the English
liturgy — Death of the Duke of Zell — Visit of Prince George to his captive
mother prevented.
The castle of Ahlden is situated on the small and sluggish
stream, the AUer ; and seems to guard, as it once op-
pressed, the little village sloping at its feet. This edifice
was appointed as the prison-place of Sophia Dorothea ;
and from the territory she acquired a title, that of Duchess
of Ahlden. She was mockingly called sovereign lady of
a locality where all were free but herself!
On looking over the list of the household which was
formed for the service, if the phrase be one that may be
admitted, of her captivity, the first thing which strikes us
as singular is the presence of ' three cooks ' — a triad of
' ministers of the mouth ' for one poor imprisoned lady !
The singularity vanishes when we find that around
this encaged duchess there circled a really extensive
household, and there lived a world of ceremony, of whicli
no one was so much the slave as she was. Her captivity
in its commencement was decked with a certain sort of
splendour, about which she^ who was its object, cared
96 LIVES OF THE (lUEENS OF ENGLAND.
by fur the least. Tliere was a military governor of the
castle, gentlemen and ladies in waiting — spies all. Among
the lionester servants of the house were a brace of pages
and as many valets, a dozen female domestics, and four-
teen footmen, who had to undergo the intense labour of
doing very little in a very lengthened space of time. To
sui)ply the material wants of these, the three cooks, one
confectioner, a baker, and a butler, were provided. There
was, besides, a military force, consisting of infantry and
artillery. Altogether, there must have been work enough
for tlie three cooks.
The forms of a court were long maintained, although
only on a small scale. The duchess held her little levees,
and the local authorities, clei-gy, and neighbouring nobility
and gentry offered her such respect as could be mani-
fested by paying her visits on certain appointed days.
These visits, however, were always narrowly watched by
the officials, whose office lay in such service and was hid
beneath a show of duty.
The successive governors of the castle were men of
uote, and their presence betokened the importance at-
tached to the person and safe keeping of the captive.
During the first three years of her imprisonment, the post
of goveinor was held by the Hof Grand-Marshal von
Bothmar. He was succeeded by the Count Bergest, who
enjoyed his equivocal dignity of gaoler-governor about a
quarter of a century. During the concluding years of the
imprisonment of Sophia, her seneschal was a relative of
one of her judges, Georg von Busclie.
These men behaved to their prisoner with as much
courtesy as they dared to show ; nor was her captivity
severe in anything but the actual deprivation of liberty,
and of all intercourse with those she best loved, unlil after
the first few years. The escape of Fiiiulein .Knesebeck
from her place of confinement appears to have given the
SOPHIA DOROTHEA. 97
husband of Sophia Dorothea an affectionate uneasiness,
which he evidenced by giving orders that his wife's safe-
keeping should be maintained with greater stringency.
From tlie day of the issuing of that order, she was
never allowed to walk, even in the garden of the castle,
without a guard. She never rode out, or drove through
the neighbouring woods, without a strong escort. Even
parts of the castle were prohibited from being intruded
upon by her ; and so much severity was shown in this
respect, that when, on one occasion, a fire broke out in
the edifice, to escape from which she must have traversed
a gallery which she was forbidden to pass, she stood short
of the proscribed limit, her jewel-box in her arms, and
herself in ahuost speechless terror, but refusing to advance
beyond the prohibited line until permission reached her
from the proper authority.
On such a prisoner time must have hung especially
licavy. She had, however, many resources, and every
liour, with her, had its occupation. She was the land-
steward of her little ducal estate, and performed all the
duties of that office. She kept a diary of her thoughts as
well as actions ; and if this be extant it would be well
worthy of being publislied. The one which has been put
forth as hers is a poor w^ork of fancy by some writer
unknown, set in dramatic scenes, and altogether to be
rejected. Her correspondence, during the period she was
permitted to write, was extensive. Every day she had
interviews with, and gave instructions to, each of her
servants, from the chief of the three cooks downwards.
With this, she was personally active in charity. Finally,
she was the Lady Bountiful of the district, laying out half
her income in charitable uses for the good of her neigh-
bours, and, as Bonifiice said of the good lady of Lichfield,
' curing more people in and about the place within ten
VOL. T. n
9^ LIVES OF THE (JOE ENS OF ENGLAND.
years, than tlie doctors jiad killed in twenty; and tliat's a
bold word.'
There was a church in tlie \illagc, which was in ratlier
ruinous condition Avhcn her captivity commenced ; but this
she put in thorough repair, decorated it handsomely, pre-
sented it with an organ, and was refused permission to
attend there after it had been reopened for public
service. For her religious consolation a chaplain had
been provided, and she was never trusted, even under
guard, to join with the villagers in common worship in
the church of the village below. In this respect a some-
what royal etiquette was observed. The chaplain read
prnyers to the garrison and household in one room, to
which the princess and her ladies listened rather than
therewith joined, placed as they were in an adjacent
room, where they could hear without being seen.
With no relative was she allowed to hold never so
brief an interview ; and at last even her mother was not
permitted to soften by her presence for an hour the rigid
and ceremonious captivity of her luckless daughter.
Mother and child were allowed to correspond at stated
periods, tluiir letters passing open. The princess herself
was as much cut off from her own children as if these
had been dead and entombed. The little prince and
princess were expressly ordered to utterly forget that they
had a mother — her very name on their lips would have
been condemned as a grievous fault. Tlie boy, George
Augustus, was in many points of character similar to his
father, and, accordingly, being commanded to forget his
mother, he obstinately bore her in memory; and when he
was told that he would never have an o])portunity afforded
liim to see her, mentally resolved to make one for himself.
It is but justice to the old Elector to say that in his
advanced years, when pleasant sins were no longer pro-
fitable to him, he gave them u[) ; and when the youngest
SOJ'HIA DO JW THE A. 99
of his mistresses had ceased to be attractive, he began to
think snch appendages little worth the hanging on to his
Electoral dignity. For, ceasing to love and live with his
' favourites,' he did not the more respect, or hold closer
intercourse with, his wife — a course about which the
Electress Sophia troubled herself very little.
Ernest Augustus, when he ceased to be under the
influence of the disgraced Countess von Platen, began to
be sensible of some sympathy for his daughter-in-law,
Sophia. He softened in some degree the rigour of her
imprisonment and corresponded with her by letter ; a
correspondence which inspired her with hope that her
freedom might result from it. This hope was, however,
frustrated by the death of Ernest Augustus, on the 20th
of January 1698. Erom that time the rigour of her
imprisonment was increased fourfold.
If the heart of her old father-in-law began to incline
towards her as he increased in years, it is not to be
wondered at that the heart of her a2;ed father melted
towards her as time began to press heavily upon him.
But it was the weakest of hearts allied to the weakest of
minds. In the comfortlessness of his f^^reat ao;e he souorht
to be comforted by loving her whom he had insanely and
unnaturally oppressed — the sole child of his heart and
liouse. In his weakness he addressed himself to that tool
of Hanover at Zell, the minister Bernstorf ; and that indi-
vidual so terrified the poor old man by details of the ill
consequences which might ensue if the wrath of the new
Elector, George Louis, were aroused by the interference
of the Duke of Zell in matters which concerned the
Elector and his wife, that the old man, feeble in mind and
body, yielded, and for a time at least left his daughter to
her fate. He thought to compensate for the wrong which
he inflicted on her under the impulse of his evil genius,
Bernstorf, by adding a codicil to his will.
H 2
lOO LIVES 01'\ THE OUEEXS OF EXuLAXD.
By this codicil lie bequeathed to the daughter whom
he had wronged all that it was in his power to leave, in
jewels, moneys, and lands ; but liberty he could not give
her, and so his love could do little more than try to
lighten the fetters which he had aided to put on. But
there was a short-lived joy in store, both for child and
parents. The fetters were to be cast aside for a brief
season, and the poor captive was to enjoy an hour of
home, of love, and of liberty.
The last year of the seventeenth century (1700)
l^rought with it an accession of greatness to the Electoral
family of Hanover, inasmuch as in that year a bill was
introduced into parliament, and accepted by that body,
which fixed the succession to the crown of En^iand after
the Princess Anne, and in default of such princess dying
Avitliout heirs of her own body, in the person of Sophia of
Hanover. William III. had been very desirous for the
introduction of this bill ; but under various pretexts it
had been deferred, the commonest business being allowed
to take precedence of it, until tlie century had nearly
expired. The limitations to the royal action, which formed
a part of the bill as recommended in the report of the
connnittee, were little to the King's taste ; for they not
only affected his employment of foreign troops in England,
but shackled his own free and frequent departures fi'om
the kingdom. It was imagined by many that these limi-
tations were designed by the leaders in the cabinet, in
order to raise disputes between the two houses, by which
the bill might be lost. Such is Burnet's report ; and he
sarcastically adds thereto, that when much time had been
spent in preliminaries, and it was necessary to come to
tlie nomination of the person who sliould be named pre-
sumi)tive lieir next to Queen Anne, tlic office of doing so
was confided to ' Sir Jolm Bowles, who was then dis-
ordered in his senses, and soon after quite lost them.'
SOPHIA DOROTHEA. . '. lOI
' He was,' says Burnet, ' set on by tlie party to be the first
tliat should name the Electress-dowager of Brunswick,
which seemed done to make it less serious when moved
by such a person.' So that the solemn question of naming
the heir to a throne was entrusted to an idiot, who, by the
forms of the house, was appointed chairman of the com-
mittee for the conduct of the bill. Burnet adds, that the
' thing,' as he calls it, was ' still put off for many weeks at
every time that it was called for ; the motion was enter-
tained with coldness, which served to heii^hten the
jealousy ; the committee once or twice sat upon it, but all
the members ran out of the house with so much indecency
that the contrivers seemed asliamed of this manacrement :
there were seldom fifty or sixty at the committee, yet in
conclusion it passed, and was sent up to the Lords.' Great
opposition was expected from the peers, and many of their
lordships designedly absented themselves from the discus-
sion. The opposition was slight, and confined to the
Marquis of Xormanby, who spoke, and the Lords Hun-
tingdon, Plymouth, Guildford, and JefTeries, who protested,
against the bill. Burnet affirms, that those who wished
well to the Act were glad to have it passed any way, and
so would not examine the limitations that were in it, and
which they thought might be considered afterwards. 'We
reckoned it,' says Burnet, ' a great point carried that we
had now a lavv' on our side for a Protestant successor.'
Tlie law was stoutly protested against by the Duchess of
Savoy, grand-daughter of Charles I. Tlie protest did not
trouble the King, who despatched the Act to the Electress-
dowager, and the Garter to her son, by the hands of the
Earl of Macclesfield.
The earl was a fitting bearer of so costly and significant
a present. He had been attached to the service of the
mother of Sophia, and was highly esteemed by the Elec-
tress-dowager herself. The earl had no especial commission
102 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
bej^ond that which enjoined liini to dehver the Act, nor
was lie dignified by any official appellation. lie was
neither ambassador, legate, plenipotentiary, nor envoy,
lie had with him, however, a most splendid suite; which
was in some res})ects strangely constituted, for among its
members was the famous Toland, whose book in support
of rationality as applied to religion had been publicly
burnt by the hangman, in Ireland.
The welcome to this body of gentlemen was right
royal. It may be said that the Electoral family had
neither cared for the dignity now rendered probable for
them, nor in any way toiled or intrigued to bring it
within their grasp ; but it is certain that their joy was
great when the Earl of Macclesfield appeared on the
frontier of the Electorate with the Act in one hand and the
Garter in the other. He and his suite were met there
with a welcome of extraordinary maGi;nilicence. betokeninu;;
ample appreciation of the double gift he brought with
him. He himself seemed elevated by his mission, for he
was in his general deportment little distinguished by
courtly manners or by ceremonious bearing ; but it was
observed that, on this occasion, nothing could have been
more becoming than the way in which he acquitted him-
self of an office which brought a whole fjimily within
view of succession to a royal and powerful throne.
On reaching the confines of the Electorate, the mem-
bers of the deputation from England were received by
personages of the highest official rank, who not only
escorted them to the capital, but treated them on the way
with a liberality so profuse as to be the wonder of all
beholders. They were not allowed to disburse a fiirthing
from their own purses; all ihey thought fit. to order was
])aid for by the Electoral government, by whose orders
they were hjdged in the most commodious palace in
llanover, where as much homage was paid them as if
SOPHIA DOROTHEA. IO3
each man had been a Kaiser in his own person. The
Hanoverian gratitude went so far, that not only were the
ambassador and suite treated as favoured guests, and those
not alone of the princess but of the people — the latter
being commanded to refrain from taking payment from
any of them for any article of refreshment they required
— but for many days all English travellers visiting the
city were made equally free of its caravansaries, and were
permitted to enjoy all that the inns could afford without
being required to pay for the enjoyment.
The delicate treatment of the Electoral government
extended even to the servants of the earl and his suite.
It was thought that to require them to dine upon the
fragments of their master's banquets would be derogatory
to the splendour of tlie hospitality of the House of Han-
over and an insult to the domestics who followed in the
train of tlie earl. The government accordingly disbursed
half-a-crown a day to eacli liveried follower, and con-
sidered such a ' composition ' as glorious to the reputation
of the Electoral house. The menials were even emanci-
pated from service during the sojourn of the deputation
in Hanover, and the Elector's numerous servants waited
upon the Englisli visitors zealously throughoift the day,
but with most splendour in the morning ; tlien, tliey were
to be seen hurrying to the bed-rooms of the different
members of the suite, bearing witli them silver coffee and
tea pots, and other requisites for breakihst, wliich meal
appears to have been lazily indulged in — as if the legation
had been hal)itually wont to ' make a niglit of it ' — in bed.
And there wcih a good deal of hard drinking on tliese
occasions, but all at the expense of the luisband of Sophia
Dorothea, Avho, in her castle of Ahlden, was not even
aware of that increase of honour which had fallen upon
her consort, and in which she had a right to share.
For those who were, the next day, ill or indolent,
104 LIVES OF. THE (lUEEXS OF EXGLAXD.
there were the ponderous state coaches to carry them
whithersoever they would go. The most gorgeous of the
fetes given on this occasion was on the evening of
the day on which the Act was solemnly presented to the
Electress-dowager. Hanover, ftimous as it was for its
balls, had never seen so glorious a Terpsichorean festival
as marked this particular night. At the balls in the old
Elector's time Sophia Dorothea used to shine, first in
beauty and in grace ; but now her place was ill supplied
by the not fair and quite graceless Mademoiselle von der
Schulcnburg. The su])per which followed was Olympian
in its ])rofusion, wit, and magnificence. This was at a
time when to be sober was to be respectable, but when to
be drunk was not to be ungentlemanly. Consequently
we find Toland, who wrote an account of the achieve-
ments of the day, congratulating himself and readers by
stating that, although it was to be expected that in so
large and so jovial a party some would be found even
more ecstatic than the occasion and the company
warranted, yet that, in truth, the number of those who
were guilty of excess was but small. Even Lord Mohun
kept himself sober, and to the end was able to converse
as clearly and intelligibly as Lord Saye and Sele, and his
friend ' my Lord Tunbridge.'
This day of presentation of the Act, and of the
festival in honour of it, was one of the greatest days which
Hanover had ever seen. Speaking of the mother-in-law
of Sophia Dorothea, Toland says : — 'The Electress is three-
and-seventy years old, which she bears so wonderfully
well, that, had I not many vouchers, I should scarce dare
venture to relate it. Slie has ever enjoyed extraordinary
health, which keeps her still very vigorous, of a cheerful
countenance, and a merry disposition. She steps as firm
and erect as any young lady, has not one wrinkle in her
face, which is still very agreeable, nor one tooth out of
SOPHIA DOROTHEA. I05
lier head, and reads without spectacles, as I have often
seen her do, letters of a small character, in the dusk of
the evening. She is as great a writer as our late queen
(Mary), and you cannot tin*n yourself in the palace
without meeting some monument of her industry, all the
chairs of the presence-chamber being wrought with her
own hands. The ornaments of the altar in the electoral
chapel are all of her work. She bestowed the same
favour on the Protestant abbey, or college, of Lockurn,
with a thousand other instances, fitter for yoiu" lady to
know than for yourself. She is the most constant and
greatest walker I ever knew, never missing a da}^, if it
proves fair, for one or two hours, and often more, in the
fine garden at Herrenhausen. She perfectly tires all those
of her court who attend her in that exercise but such as
have the honour to be entertained by her in discourse.
She has been long admired by all the learned world as a
woman of incomparable knowledge in divinity, philosophy,
history, and the subjects of all sorts of books, of which
she has read a prodigious quantity. She speaks five
languages so well, that by her accent it might be a
dispute which of them was her first. They are Low
Dutch, German, French, Italian, and English, which last
she speaks as triil}^ and easily as any native ; ^vhich to me
is a matter of amazement, whatever advantages she might
have in her youth by the conversation of her mother ;
for though the late king's (William's) mother was likewise
an Englishwoman, of the same royal family ; though he
had been more than once in England before the Revolu-
tion ; though he was married there, and his court
contiiuially full of many of that nation, yet he could
never conquer his foreign accent. But, indeed, the
Electress is so entirely English in her person, in her
behaviour, in her humour, and in all her inchnations,
that naturally she could not miss of anything that
I06 LIVES OF THE (JUEEXS OF ENGLAND.
peculiarly belongs to our land. She was ever glad to see
Eni>;lislinien, Ion"' before the Act of Succession. She
professes to admire our form of government, and
understands it mighty well, yet she asks so many
questions al)out fiunilics, customs, laws, and the like, as
sudieiently demonstrate her profound wisdom and
experience. She has a deep veneration for the Church
of England, without losing affection or charity for any
other sort of Protestants, and appears charmed with the
moderate temper of our present bishops and other of
our learned clergy, especially for their approbation of the
liberty allowed by law to Protestant Dissenters. She is
adored for her goodness among the inhabitants of the
country, and gains the hearts of all strangers by her
imparalleled affability. No distinction is ever made in her
court concerning the parties into which Englishmen are
divided, and whereof they carrj- the effects and im-
pressions with them whithersoever they go, which makes
others sometimes luieasy as well as themselves. There it
is enough that you are an Englishman ; nor can you ever
discover by your treatment which are better liked, the
Whiirs or the Toi'ies. These are the instructions o-iven to
all the servants, and ihey take care to execute them with
tlie utmost exactness. I was the first who had the
honour of kneelin<( and kissins]!; her hand on account of
the Act of Succession ; and she said, among other
discourse, that she was afraid the nation had already
repented their choice of an old woman, but that she
hoped none of her ])()sterity would give her any reasons
to grow weary of their dominion. I answered, that the
English liad loo well considered what thev did to chan<)-e
their minds so soon, and they still remembered they were
never so happy as when they were last under a woman's
government. Since that time, sir,' adds the conrtly but
iniortliodfjx 'J'olaiid to tlie 'Minister of State in Holland,'
SOPHIA DOROTHEA. 107
to whom his letter is addressed, ' we have a further
confirination of this truth by the glorious administration
of Queen Anne.'
The record would be imperfect if it were not accom-
panied by another ' counterfeit presentment,' that of her
son, Prince George Louis, the husband of Sophia Dorothea.
Toland describes him as ' a proper, middle-sized, well-
proportioned man, of a genteel address, and good
appearance ;' but he adds, that his Highness ' is reserved,
and therefore speaks little, but judiciously.' ' He is not
to be exceeded,' says Toland, ' in his zeal against the
intended universal monarchy of France, and so is most
hearty for the common cause of Europe,' for the very
good reason, that therein ' his own is so necessarily
involved.' Toland adds, that George Louis understood
the constitution of England better than any ' foreigner '
he had ever met with ; a very safe remark, for our con-
stitution was ill understood abroad ; and even had the
theoretical knowledge of George Louis been ever so
correct, his practice with our constitution betrayed such
ignorance that Toland's assertion may be taken only for
what it is worth. ' Though,' says the writer just named,
' though he be well versed in the art of w^ar, and of in-
vincible courage, having often exposed his person to great
dangers in Hungary, in the Morea, on the Ehine, and in
Flanders, yet he is naturally of peaceable inclination ;
which mixture of qualities is agreed, by the experience
of all ages, to make the best and most glorious princes.
He is a perfect man of business, exactly regular in the
economy of his revenues ' (which he never was of those
of England, seeing that he outran his liberal allowance,
and coolly asked tlie parliament to pay his debts), ' reads
all despatches himself at first hand, writes most of his
own letters, and spends a considerable part of his time
about such occupations, in his closet, and with his
108 LIVES OF THE (JUEEMS OF EXuL.lXD.
ministers.' ' I hope,' Toland says, ' that none of our
countrymen will be so injudicious as to think his reserved-
nc.-^s the effect of sullenuess or piide ; nor mistuke that
for state which really proceeds from modesty, caution,
and deliberation ; for he is very affable to such as accost
liim, and expects that others should speak to him first,
which is the best information I could have from all about
him, and I partly know to be true by experience.'
' As to vdiat I said of his frugality in laying
out I lie public money, I need not give a more particular
proof than that all the expenses of his court, as to eating,
drinking, fire, candles, and the like, are duly paid every
Saturday night ; the officers of his army receive their
pay every month, so likewise his envoys in every part of
Europe ; and all the officers of his household, with the
rest that are on the civil list, are cleared off every half-
year.' We are then assured that his administration was
equable, mild, and prudent — a triple assertion which his
own life and that of his hardly-used wife flatly denied.
Toland, however, will have it that there never existed a
prince who was so ardently beloved by his subjects.
Hanover itself is said to be without division or faction,
and all Hanoverians as being in a condition of ecstasy at
the Solomon-like rectitude and jurisdiction of his very
Serene Highness. He describes Madame Kielmansegge
as a woman of sense and wit ; and of ' Mademoiselle
Sclnilcniberg,' he says that she is especially worthy oi the
rank she enjoj^s, and that 'in tlie opinion of others, as
well as mine, she is a lady of extraordinary merit ! ' Of
Sophia Dorothea, Toland makes no note whatever.
There only remains to be added, that the legation left
Hanover loaded with presents. The earl received the
])ortrait of the Electrcss, with an Electoral crown in
diamonds by way of mounting to the frame. George
Louis bestowed up(jn him a gold basin and CAver. Gold
SOPHIA DOROTHEA. IO9
mediils and suufFboxes were sliowered among the other
members. The chaplain, Dr. Sandys, was especially
honoured by rich gifts in medals and books. He was tlie
first who ever read the service of our Chm^li in the
presence of the Electress. She joined in it with apparent
fervour, and admired it generally ; but when a hint was
conveyed to her that it miglit be well were she to intro-
duce it in place of the Calvinistic form used in her chapel,
as of the Lutheran in that of the Elector, she shook her
head, with a smile ; said that there was no difference
between the three forms, in essentials, and that episcopacy
was merely the established form in England. She thought
for the present she would ' let well idone.' And it was
done accordingly !
In th-e year 1705 the war Avas raging which France was
carrying on for the purpose of extending her limits and
influence, and which England and her allies had entered
into in oi'der to resist such aggression and restore tin it
terribly oscillating matter — the balance of European
power. The Duke of Marlborough had, at the prayer of
the Dutch States, left the banks of the Moselle, in order
to help Holland, menaced on the side of Liege by a
strono- French force. Our f-reat duke left General
D'Aubach at Treves to secure the maj:fazines which the
English and Dutch had laid up there ; but upon tlie
approach of Marshal Vihars, D'Aubach destroyed the
magazines and abandoned Treves, of whicli the Frencli
immediately took possession. This put an end to all the
schemes which had been laid for attacking France on the
side of the Moselle, where her frontiers Vv'ere but Aveak,
and carried her confederates back to Flanders, where, as
the old-fashioned chronicler, Salmon, remarks, ' they
yearl}^ threw away thousands of brave fellows against
stone walls.' Thereupon, Hanover became menaced.
On this, Horace Walpole has something in point :
no LIVES OF THE OUEEXS OF EXGLAXD.
' As tlie genuine wife wa.s always detained in her
luisband's power, he seems not to have wliolly dissolved
their union ; for on the approach of the French array
toAvards Hanover, during Queen Anne's reign, the Duchess
of Halle (Ahlden) was sent home to her father and
mother, who doted on tlieir only child, and did retain lier
for a whole year, and did implore, though in vain, that
!^]ie miofht continue to reside with tliem.' On the return
of ' tlie genuine wife ' to captivity some of the old restric-
tions were taken off. There was no prohibition of
intercourse Avith the parents ; for the Duke of Zell had
resolved on proceeding to visit his daughter, but only
deferred his visit until theconclusion of a grand hunt in
which he was anxious to take part. He went ; and
between fatigue, exposure to inclement weather, and
neglect on his return, he became seriously ill, rapidly grew
w^orse, died on the 28th of August 1705, and by his death
gave the domains of a dukedom to Hanover and deprived
his daughter of a newly-acquired friend.
The death of the Duke of Zell was followed by honour
to Pjernstorf. George Louis appointed him to the post of
])rime-minister of Hanover, and at the same time made
liim a count. The death of the fother of Sophia Dorothea
was, however, folloAved by consequences more fatal than
those just named. The severity of the imprisonment of the
princess was much aggravated ; and though she was per-
mitted to have an occasional interview with her mother, all
a])phcation to be allowed to see her two children was
sternly refused — and this refusal, as the poor prisoner used
to I'emark, was the bitterest portion of her misery.
It was of her son that George TiOuis used to say, in
later years, ' II est fougueux, mais il a du coeur' — liot-
headed but not heartless. George Augustus manifested
this disposition very early in life. He was on one
occasion hunting in the neighbourhood of Luisberg, not
SOPHIA DOROTHEA. Ill
many miles from tlie scene of his motlier's imprisonment,
wlien he made a sudden resolution to visit her, regardless
of the strict prohibition against such a course laid on him
by his father and the Hanoverian government. Laying
spin's to his horse, he galloped at full speed from the
field, and in the direction of Ahlden, His astonished
suite, seeincf the direction which he was followino- at so
furious a rate, immediately suspected his design and
became legally determined to frustrate it. They left
pursuing the stag and took to chasing the prince. The
heir-apparent led them far away over field and furrow,
to the great detriment of the wind and persons of his
pursuers ; and he would have distanced the whole bod}-
of flying huntsmen, but that his steed was less fleet than
those of two ofiicers of the Electoral household, who kept
close to the fugitive, and at last came up with him on the
skirts of a wood adjacent to Ahlden. With mingled
courtesy and firmness they represented to him that he
could not be permitted to go fiirther in a direction which
was forbidden, as by so doing he would not only be
treating the paternal command with contempt, but would
be making them accomplices in his crime of disobedience.
George Augustus, vexed and chafed, argued the matter
Avith them, appealed to their affections and feelings, and
endeavoured to convince them both as men and as
ministers, as human beings and as mere official red-tapists,
that he was authorised to continue his route to Ahlden
])y every law, earthly or divine.
The red-tapists, however, acknowledged no law under
such circumstances but that of their Electoral lord and
master, and that hiw they would not permit to be broken.
Laying hold of the bridle of the prince's steed, they
turned its head homew^ards and rode away with George
Augustus in a state of full discontent and strict arrest.
112 LIVES OF. THE QUEEXS Of EXGL.LW.
CHAPTER X.
THE SUCCESSION DEATH OF THE ELECTRESS.
Marriage of Prince George to Princess Caroline of Anspach, and of bis sister
to the Crown Prince of Prussia — Honours conferred by Queen Anne on
Prince George — Intention to bring over to England the Princess Sophia
— Opposed bv Queen Anne — Foundation of the kingdom of Prussia —
The establishment of this Protestant kingdom promoted by the Jesuits
— The Electress Sophia's visit to Loo — The law granting taxes on births,
deaths, and man-iages — Complaint of Queen Anne against the Electress
— Tom D'Urfey's doggrel verses on her — Death of the Electress — Cha-
racter of her.
The Elector, meditating on this sudden development of
the domestic affections of his son, resolved to aid such
development, not by giving him access to his mother,
but by bestowing on him the hand of a consort, Caro-
line of Anspach was a very accomplished young lady,
owing to the careful education which she received at the
hands of the best-loved child of Sophia Charlotte, Elec-
tress of Brandenburg, and the first, but short-lived,
Queen of Prussia. If the instructress was able, the pupil
was apt. She was quick, enquiring, intelligent, and
studious. Her application was great, her perseverance
imwearied, and her inemory excellent. She learned
quickly and retained largely, seldom forgetting anything
w^ortli remembrance ; and was an equally good judge of
books and individuals. Her perception of character has,
perhaps, never been surpassed. She had no inclination
for trivial subjects, nor affection for trivial people. She
had a heart and mind only for philosophers and philo-
SOPHIA DOROTHEA. 113
sophy ; but she was not the less a Uvely girl, or the more
a pedant on that account. She dehghted in lively con-
versation, and could admirably lead or direct it. Her
knowledge of languages was equal to that of Sophia of
Hanover, of whom she was also the equal in wit and
in repartee. But therewith she was more tender, more
gentle, more generous.
The marriage of George Augustus, Electoral Prince
of Brunswick-Hanover, with Caroline, daughter of John
Frederick, Margrave of Anspach, was solemnised in the
year 1705. The wife of George Augustus was of the
same asje as her husband. She had had the misfortune
to lose her father when she was yet extremely young,
and had been brought up at the Court of Berlin luider
the guardianship of Sophia Charlotte, the consort of
Frederick of Prussia.
The sister of George Augustus, the only daughter of
Sophia Dorothea, and bearing the same baptismal names
as her mother, was also married during the captivity of
the latter. Three remarkable Englishmen were present
at the marriage of the daughter of Sophia Dorothea with
the Prince Eoyal of Prussia. These were Lord Halifax,
Sir John Vanbrugh, and Joseph Addison. Queen Anne,
who had restored Halifax to a favour from which he had
fallen, entrusted him to carry the bill for the naturahsa-
tion of the Electoral femily and for the better security
of the Protestant line of succession, and also the Order
of the Garter for the Electoral Prince. On this mission,
Addison was the invited companion of the patron whom
he so choicely flattered. Vanbrugh was present in his
official character of Clarencieux King-at-Arms, and per-
formed the ceremony of investiture. The little Court of
Hanover was joyfully splendid on this doubly festive
occasion. The nuptials were celebrated with more ac-
companying gladness than ever followed them. The
VOL. I. I
114 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
pomp was something uncommon in its way, and tlie bride
must have been wearied of beino- married long; before the
stupendous solemnity liad at length reached its slowly-
arrived-at conclusion. She became Queen of Prussia
in 1712.
Honours now fell thick upon the Electoral family, but
Sophia Dorothea was not permitted to have any share
tlierein. In 1706, Queen Anne created her son, George
Augustus, Baron of Tewkesbury, Viscount JSTorthallerton,
Earl of Milford Haven, Marquis and Duke of Cambridge.
With these honours it was also decreed that he should
enjoy full precedence over the entire peerage.
There was a strong party in England whose most
earnest desire it was that the Electress Sophia, in whose
person the succession to the crown of Great Britain was
settled, should repair to London — not permanently to
reside there, but in order that during a brief visit she
might receive the homage of the Protestant party. She
was, however, reluctant to move from her books, philo-
sophy, and cards, until she could be summoned as Queen.
Eailing here, an attempt was made to bring oyer George
Louis, who was nothing loth to come ; but the idea of a visit
from him was to poor Queen Anne the uttermost abomina-
tion. Her Majesty had some grounds for her dislike to
a visit from her old wooer. She was nervously in terror of
a monster popular demonstration. Such a demonstration
was publicly talked of ; and the enemies of the house of
Stuart, by way of instruction and warning to the Queen,
whose Jacobite bearing towards her brother was matter
of notoriety, had determined, in tlie event of George Louis
visiting England, to give him an escort into London that
should amount to the very significant number of some forty
or fifty tliousand men.
Tlie journal of the hjrd-keeper, Cowpcr, states the
ollicial answer of tlie princess to all the invilations which
SOPHIA DOROTHEA. 1 I 5
had been agitated by the Hanoverian Tories during tlie
year 1704 and the succeeding summer. ' At the Queen's
Cabinet Council, Sunday, the 11th of November 1705,
foreign letters read in her Majesty's presence, the substance
remarkable, that at Hanover was a person, agent to the
discontented party here, to invite over the Princess Sophia
and the Electoral Prince (afterwards George II.) into
England, assuring them that a party here was ready to
propose it. That the Princess Sophia had caused the same
person to be acquainted, "that she judged the message
came from such as were enemies to her family ; that she
would never hearken to such a proposal but when it came
from the Queen of England herself; " and withal she had
discouraged the attempt so much that it was believed
nothing more could be said in it.'
Sophia, who was naturally reluctant to come to Eng-
land upon a mere popular or partisan invitation, would
gladly have come on the bidding of the Queen. This was
never given. In one year the Queen sent a request to the
Electress to aid her in promoting the peace of Europe,
and a present to her god-daughter Anne, the first child of
George Augustus and Caroline of Anspach. Earl Eivers
carried both letter and present. The letter was acknow-
ledged with cold courtesy by the Electress, in a communi-
cation to the Earl of Strafford, secretary of state. The com-
munication bears date the lltli of November 1711 ; 'and,
after saying that the gift is infinitely esteeriied, the Electress
adds — ' I would not, however, give my 'parchment for it,
since that will be an everlastino; monument in the archives
of Hanover, and the present for the little princess will go,
when she is grown up, into another family.'
Early in 1714 Anne addressed a powerful remon-
strance to the aged Electress, complaining that ever since
the Act of Succession had been settled, there had been a
constant agitation, the object of which was to bring over
Il6 LIVES OF THE (2UEENS OF ENGLAND.
a prince of tlie Hanoverian house to reside in England,
even during tlie writer's life. She accuses the Electress of
having come, tliough perhaps tardily, into tliis sentiment,
wliich had its origin in political pretensions, and she adds,
that if persevered in, it may end in consequences dangerous
to the succession itself, ' which is not secure any other
ways than as the princess who actually wears the crown
maintains her authority and prerogative.'
Her Majesty addressed a second letter to George
Augustus, as Duke of Cambridge, expressing her thouglits
with respect to the design he had of coming into her king-
dom. ' I should tell you,' she says, ' nothing can be more
dangerous to the tranquillity of my dominions, and the
right of succession in your line, and consequently most
disagreeable to me.'
The proud Dowager-Electress had declared tliat ' she
cared not when she died, if on her tomb could be recorded
that she was Queen of Great Britain and Ireland.' These
words are said to have given great offence to Queen Anne.
There is evidence that the last letters of Anne had
something to do witli the death of the Electress. They
had liardly been received and read, wlien her health,
which had been for some time foiling, grew worse. She
rallied, however, for a time, and was al:>le to take
exercise, but the blow had been given from which she
never recovered.
Molyneux, an ag(3nt of the Duke of Marlborough at
Hanover, says lie was on his way to tlie country palace
of the Electress, when he was suddenly informed tliat
she had been seized with mortal illness in one of the
garden-walks.
'I ran uj) there, and found her fost expiring in the
arm;-' of the ])Oor Electoral Princess (Caroline, afterwards
Queen of George II.) and amidst tlie tears of a great
many of her servants, who endeavoured in vain to help
SOPHIA DOROTHEA. 117
her, I can give 3'oii no account of licr illness, but that I
beheve tlie chagrin of those viHainous letters I sent you
last post has been in a great measure the cause of it.
The Elieingravine who has been with her these fifteen
years has told me she never knew anything make so deep
an impression on her as the affair of the prince's journey,
which I am sure she had to the last degree at heart, and
she has done me the honour to tell me so twenty times.
In the midst of this, however, these letters arrived, and
these, I verily believe, have broken her heart and brought
her Avith sorrow to the grave. The letters were delivered
on Wednesday, at seven.
' When I came to court she was at cards, but was so
full of these letters that she got up and ordered me to
follow her into the garden, where she gave them to me
to read, and walked, and spoke a great deal in relation to
them. I believe slie walked three hours that night. The
next morning, which was Thursday, I heard that she was
out of order, and on going immediately to court, she
ordered me to be called into her bed-chamber. She gave
me the letters I sent you to copy ; she bade me send
them next post, and bring them afterwards to her to court.
This was on Friday. In the morning, on Friday, they
told me she was very well, but seemed much chagrined.
She was dressed, and dined with the Elector as usual. At
four, she did me the honour to send to town for some
other copies of the same letters ; and then she was still
perfectly well. She walked and talked very heartily in
the orangery. After that, about six, she went out to walk
in the garden, and was still very well. A shower of rain
came, and as she was walking pretty fast to get to shelter,
the}^ told her she was walking a little too fast. Slie
answered, " I believe I do," and dropped down on saying
these words, which were her last. They raised her up,
1 1 8 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
cliafed her with spirits, tried, to bleed her ; but it was all
iu vain, and when I came up, she was as dead as if she had
been four days so.'^ Such was the end, on the 10th of
June 1714, of a very remarkable woman.
' Letter to the Duke of Marlborough.
119
CHAPTEE XI.
AIiLDEN AI\^D ENGLAND.
The neglected captive of Ahlden — Unnoticed by her son-in-law, except to
secure her property — Madame von Schulenburg — The Queen of Prussia
prohibited from corresponding with her imprisoned mother — The captive
betrayed by Count de Bar — Death of Queen Anne — Anxiety felt for the
arrival of King George — The Duke of Marlborough's entry — Funeral of
the Queen — Public entry of the King — Adulation of Dr. Young —
Madame Kielmansegge, the new royal favourite — Horace Walpole's ac-
count of her — 'A Hanover garland' — Ned Ward, the Tory poet — Ex-
pression of the public opinion — The Duchess of Kendal bribed by Lord
Bolingbroke — Bribery and corruption general — Abhorrence of parade by
the King.
DuEiNG marriage festivals and court /t'^^s held to celebrate
some step in greatness, Sophia Dorothea continued to
vegetate in Ahlden. She was politically dead ; and even
in the domestic occurrences of her family, events in which-
a mother might be gracefully allowed to have a part, she
enjoyed no share. The marriages of her children and
the births of their children were not officially communicated
to her. She was left to learn them through chance or the
courtesy of individuals.
Her daughter was now the second Queen of Prussia,
but the King cared not to exercise his influence in behalf
of his unfortunate mother-in-hiw. Not that he was
unconcerned with respect to her. His consort was heiress
to property over which her mother had control, and
Frederick was not tranquil of mind until this property
had been secured as the indisputable inheritance of his
I 20 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
wife. He was eai'nest enough in his correspondence with
Sopliia Dorothea until this consummation was arrived at;
and wlien lie lield the writings wliicli secured the succes-
sion of certain portions of tlie property of the duchess on
his consort, he ceased to trouble himself further with any
question connected with the unfortunate prisoner ; except,
indeed, that he forbade his wife to hold any further inter-
course with her mother, by letter or otherwise.
Few and trivial are the incidents told of her long
captivity. The latter had been embittered, in 1703, by
the knowledge that Mademoiselle von der Schulenburg
was the mother of another daughter, Margaret Gertrude,
of whom the Elector was the father. This child was ten
years younger tJian her sister, Petronilla Melusina, who
subsequently figured at the Court of George 11. as
Countess of Walsingham, and who was the uncared-for
v/ife of Philip Stanhope, Earl of Chesterfield.
Previous to the prohibition laid on his wife by the
King of Prussia, an epistolary intercourse had been
privately maintained between Sophia Dorothea and her
daughter. Such intercourse had never received the
King's sanction ; and when it came to his knowledge, at
the period of tlie settlement of part of the maternal
property on the daughter, he peremptorily ordered its
cessation. It had been maintained chiefly by means of a
Chevalier de Bar ; Ludwig, a privy-coinicillor at Berlin ;
Frederick, a page of the Queen's ; and a bailiff of the
castle of Ahlden. There were too many confederates in
a matter so simple, and the whole of them betrayed the
poor lady, for whom they professed to act. The most
important agent was the chevalier : in liim the duchess
confided longest, and in liis want of faith she was the
last to believe. lie had introduced himself to her by
sending her presents of snuff, no unusual present to a
lady in those days — though it is pretended tliat these
SOPHIA DOROTHEA. 121
gifts bore a peculiar signification, known only to the donor
and the recipient. They probably had less meaning than
the presents forwarded to the prisoner by her daughter,
consisting now of her portrait, another time of a watch,
or some other trinket, which served to pass a letter Avith
it, in which were filial injinictions to the poor mother to
be patient and resigned, and to put no trust in the Count
de Bar.
The prisoner did not heed the counsel, but continued
to confide in a man who was prodigal of promise, and
traitorous of performance. Her hopes were fixed upon
escaping, but they were foiled by the watchfulness of
noble spies, who exultingly told her that her Inisband
was a king. And it is asserted that she might have been
a recognised queen if she would but have confessed that
she had failed in obedience towards her husband. It is
certain that a renewed, but it may not have been an
honest, attempt at reconciliation was made just previous
to the accession of George I., but the old reply fell from
the prisoner's lips : — ' If I am guilty, I am not worthy of
him : if I am innocent, he is not worthy of me.'
The death of the Electress Sophia, in 1714, was fol-
lowed very shortly after by the demise of Queen Anne.
This event had taken all parties somewhat by surprise.
They stood face to face, as it were, over the dying Queen.
The Jacobites were longing for her to name her brother
as her successor, whom they would have proclaimed at
once at the head of the army. The Hanoverian party
were feverish with fears and anticipations ; but they had
the regency dressed up and ready in the back ground,
and Secretary Craggs, booted and spurred, was making
such haste as could then be made on his road to Hanover,
to summon King George. The Jacobite portion of the
cabinet was individually bold in resolving what ouglit to
be done, S^but they were, bodily, afraid of the responsi-
122 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
bility of doing it. Each man of each faction liacl his
king's name ready upon his lips, awaiting only that the
lethargy of the Queen should be succeeded by irre-
trievable death to give it joyful utterance. Anne died
on the 1st of August 1714 ; the Jacobites drew a breath
of hesitation ; and in the meantime the active '\\niigs
instantly proclaimed King George, gave Addison the
mission of announcing the demise of one sovereign to
another, who was that sovereign's successor, and left the
Jacobites to their vexation and their threatened redress.
Lord Berkley was sent with the fleet to Orange
Polder, in Holland, there to bring over the new King ;
but Craggs had not only taken a very long time to carry
his invitation to the monarch, but the husband of Sophia,
when he received it, showed no hot haste to take advan-
tage thereof. The Earl of Dorset was despatched over
to press his immediate coming, on the ground of the
affectionate impatience of his new subjects. The King
was no more moved thereby than he was by the first
announcement of Lord Clarendon, the English ambas-
sador, at Hanover. On the night of the 5th of August
that envoy had received an express, announcing the
demise of the Queen. At two o'clock in the morning
he hastened with what he supposed the jo}^ul intelligence
to Herrnhausen, and caused George Louis to be aroused,
that he might be the first to salute him as King. The
nc^v monarch yawned, expressed himself vexed, and went
to sleep again as calmly as any serene highness. In the
morning some one delicately hinted, as if to encourage
the husband of Sophia Dorothea in staying where he was,
that the presbyterian party in England was a dangerous
regicidal party. ' Not so,' said George, who seemed
to be satisfied that there was no peril in the new great-
ness ; ' not so ; I have nothinf? to fear from the kins-
killers ; they are all on my side.' But still he tamed ;
SOPHIA DOROTHEA. I 23
one clay decreeing the abolition of the excise, the next
ordering, like King Arthur in Fielding's tragedy, all the
insolvent debtors to be released from prison. While thus
engaged, London was busy with various pleasant occu-
pations.
On the 3rd of August the late Queen was opened ; and
on the following day her bowels were buried, with as much
ceremony as they deserved, in Westminster Abbey. The
day subsequent to this ceremony, the Duke of Marl-
borough, who had been in voluntaiy exile abroad, and
whose office in command of the imperial armies had been
held for a short time, and not discreditably, by George
Louis, made a triumphant entry into London. The
triumph, however, was marred by the sudden breaking
down of his coach at Temple-Bar — an accident ominous
of his not again rising to power. The Lords and Com-
mons then sent renewed assurances of loyalty to Hanover,
and renewed prayers that the lord there would doff his
electoral cap, and come and try his kingly crown. To
quicken this, the lower house, on the 10th, voted him
the same revenues the late Queen had enjoyed — except-
ing those arising from the Duchy of Cornwall, which
were, by law, invested in the Prince of Wales. On the
loth Craggs arrived in town to herald the King's coming ;
and on the 14th the Hanoverian party w^ere delighted to
hear that on the Pretender repairing from Lorraine to
Versailles, to implore of Louis to acknowledge him pub-
licly as king, the French monarch had pleaded, in bar,
his engagements with the House of Hanover, and that
thereon the Pretender had returned dispirited to Lon-aine.
On the 24th of the month tlie late Queen's body was
privately buried in Westminster Abbey, by order of her
successor, who appeared to have a dread of finding the
old lady of his young love yet upon the earth. Tliis
order was followed by another, which ejected from their
124 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND,
places many officials avIio liad hoped to retain them — and
chief of these was Bolingbroke. London then be-
came excited at hearing that the King had arrived at the
Hague on tlie 5th of September. It was calculated that the
nearer he got to his kingdom the more accelerated would
be his speed ; but George was not to be hurried. Madame
Kielmanseggc, who shared what was called his regard
with Mademoiselle von der Schulenburg, had been re-
tarded in her departure from Hanover by the heaviness
of her debts. The daughter of the Countess von Platen
would not have been worthy of her mother had slie
suffered herself to be long detained by such a trifle. She,
accordingly, gave her creditors the slip, set off to Hol-
land, and was received with a heavy sort of delight by
the King. The exemplary couple tarried above a week
at the Hague ; and, on the 1 6th of September George and
his retinue set sail for England. Between that day and the
day of his arrival at GreenwicJi, tlie heads of the Ee-
gency were busy in issuing decrees : — now it was for the
prohibition of fireworks on the day of his Majesty's entry ;
next against the admission of unprivileged carriages into
Greenwich Park on the King's arrival ; and, lastly, one
promising one hundred thousand pounds to any loyal sub-
ject who might be lucky enough to catch the Pretender in
En^dand, and who Avould brini:^ him a iirisoner to London.
On the 18th of September the King landed at Green-
wich ; and on the two following days, while he sojourned
there, he was waited on by various officials, who went smiling
to tlie foot of the tlirone, and came away frowning at the
cold treatment tliey received there. They wlio thought
tliemselves the most secure endured the most disgraceful
falls, es[)ecially the Duke of Ormond, avIio, as captain-general,
had been three parts inclined to proclaim the Pretender.
He repaired in gorgeous array to do homage to King
George ; but the King would only receive his staff of office,
SOPHIA DOROTHEA. I 25
and would not see the ex-bearer of it ; who returned home
with one dignity the less, and for George one enemy the
more.
The public entry into London on the 20tli was splen-
did, and so was the court holden at St. James's on the
following day. A lively incident, however, marked the
proceedings of this first court. Colonel Chudleigh, in the
crowd, branded Mi\ Allworth, M.P. for New Windsor, as
a Jacobite ; whereupon they both left the palace, went in
a coach to Marylebone Fields, and there fought a duel,
in whicli Mr. Allworth was killed on the spot. This was
the first libation of blood offered to the Kin<]^.
No poet affected to deplore the decease of Anne with
such profundity of jingling grief as Young. He had not
then achieved a name, and he was eagerly desirous to build
up a fortune. His threnodia on the death of Queen Anne is
a line piece of measured maudlin ; but the author appears
to have bethought himself, before he had expended half
his stock of sorrows, that there would be more profit in
welcoming a living than bewailing a defunct monarch.
Accordingly, wiping up his tears, and arraying his face in
the blandest of smiles, he addressed himself to the double
task of recording the reception of George and registering
his merits. He first, however, apologetically states, as his
warrant for turning from weeping for Anne to cheering
for George, that all the sorrow in the world cannot reverse
doom, that groans cannot ' unlock th' inexorable tomb ' ;
that a fond indulgence of woe is sad folly, for, from such
a course, he exclaims, with a fine eye to a poet's profit —
What fruit can rise or what advantage flow !
So, turninsf his face from the tomb of Anne to the throne
of George, he grandiosely waves his hat, and thus lie
sings : —
1 26 LIVES OF THE (2UEENS OF ENGLAND.
Welcome great atranf^er to Britannia's tlirone !
Nor let thy conutry tliink tLee all her own.
Of thy delay how oft did we complain !
Our hope reach'd out and met thee on the main.
With pray'r we smooth the billows for thy feet,
With ardent wishes fill thy swelling sheet ;
And when thy foot took place on Albion's shore,
We, hendiiKj, bless'' d the Gods and ask'd no more!
What hand but thine should conquer and compose,
Join those whom interest joins, and chase our foes,
Tlepel the daring youth's presumptuous aim,
And by his rival's greatness give him fame ?
Now, in some foreign court he may sit down.
And quit without a blush the British crown ;
Secure his honour, though he lose his store,
And take a lucky moment to be poor.
This sneer at the Pretender is as contemptible as the
flattery of George is gross ; and the picture of an entire
nation on its knees, blessing. Olympus, and bidding the
gods to restrain all further gifts, is as magnificent a
mixture of bombast and blasphemy as ever was made up
by venal poet. But here is more of it : —
Nor think, great sir, now first at this late hour.
In Britain's favour you exert your power ;
To us, far back in time, I joy to trace
The numerous tokens of your princely grace ;
Whether you chose to thunder on the Hhine,
Inspire grave councils, or in courts to shine,
In the more scenes your genius was display'd
The greater debt was on Britannia laid :
They all conspired this mighty man to raise,
And your new subjects proudly share the praise.
Such is the record of a rhymer : Walpole, in plain
and trutliful prose, tells a very different story. He informs
us tliat the London mob were highly diverted at the im-
portation by the King of his uncommon seraglio of ugly
women. ' They were food,' he says, ' for all the venom
of the Jacobites,' and so far from Britain thanldng him for
coming liimself, or for bringing witli him these numerous
tokens of his princely grace, ' nothing could be grosser
SOPHIA DOROTHEA. 12J
than the ribaldry vomited out in lampoons, libels, and
every channel of abuse, against the sovereign and the new
court, and chanted even in their hearing about the public
streets.' Mademoiselle von Schulemberg {sic) was created
Duchess of Kendal. 'The younger Mademoiselle von
Schulemberg, who came over with her, and was created
Countess of Walsingham, passed for her niece, but was so
like the King, that it is not very credible that the duchess,
who had affected to pass for cruel, had waited for the left-
handed marriage.' Lady Walsingham, as previously said,
was afterwards married to the celebrated Philip Stanhope,
Earl of Chesterfield.
To the Duchess of Kendal — George (who was so
shocked at the infidehty of which his wife was alleged to
be guilty) was to the mistress as inconstant as to the wife
he had been untrue. He set aside the former, to put in
her place Madame Kielmansegge, called, like her mother.
Countess von Platen. On the death of her husband, in
1721, he raised her to the rank of Countess of Leinster in
Ireland, Countess of Darlington and Baroness of Brentford
in England. Coxe says of her, that her power over the
King was not equal to that of the Duchess of Kendal, but
her character for rapacity was not inferior. Horace Wal-
pole has graphically portrayed Lady Darlington in the
following passage : —
' Lady Darlington, whom I saw at my mother's in my
infancy, and whom I remember by being terrified at her
enormous figure, was as corpulent and ample as the duchess
was long and emaciated. The fierce black eyes, large, and
rolhng beneath two lofty arched eyebrows, two acres of
cheeks spread with, crimson, an ocean of neck that over-
flowed, and was not distinguished from, the lov/er part of
her body, and no part restrained by stays — no wonder that
a child dreaded such an ogress.'
The mob had a strong Tory leaven at this time, and
128 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
among tlie multitude circulated a mass of broadsides and
ballads, of so openly a seditious character that the
power of the law was stringently applied to suppress the
evil. Before the year was out half the provincial towns
in England were infected with seditious sentiments
against the Whig government, which had brought in a
King whose way of life was a scandal to them. This feel-
ing of contempt for both King and government was wide
as well as deep ; and it was so craftily made use of by the
leaders of public opinion, that, before George had been
three montlis upon tlie throne, the ' High-church rabble,'
as the Tory party was called, in various country towns
were violent in their proceedings against the govern-
ment ; and at Axminster, in Devonshire, shouted for the
Pretender, and drank his health as King of England.
The conduct of George to his wife, Sophia Dorothea, was
as satirically dealt with, in the way of censure, as any of
his delinquencies, and his character as a husband was not
forgotten in the yearly tumults of his time, which broke
out on every recurring anniversary of Queen Anne's birth-
day (April the 23rd) to the end of his reign.
If the new Kino; was dissatisfied with his new sub-
jects, he liked as little the manners of England. ' This
is a strange country,' said his Majesty ; ' the first morn-
ing after my arrival at St. James's, I looked out of the
window, and saw a park, with walks, a canal, and so
forth, which they told me were mine. The next day,
Lord Chetwynd, the ranger of my park, sent me a fine
brace of carp out of my canal, and I was told that I
must give five guineas to Lord Chetwynd's servant, for
bringing me my own carp, out of m^j own canal, in my
own park ! '
The monarch's mistresses loved as much to receive
money as the King himself loved little to part from it.
The Duchess of Kendal's ra[)acity has been mentioned :
SOPHIA DOROTHEA. I 29
one instance of it is mentioned by Coxe, on the authority of
Sir Robert Walpole, to tlie effect that ' the restoration of
Lord BoHngbroke was the work of tlie Duchess of KendaL
He gained the duchess by a present of eleven thousand
pounds, and obtained, a promise to use her influence over
the King for the purpose of forwarding his complete re-
storation.' Horace Walpole states that the duchess was
no friend of Sir Robert, and wished to make Lord Boling-
broke minister in his room. The rapacious mistress was
jealous of Sir Robert's credit with the monarch. Monarch
and minister transacted business through the medium of
indifferent Latin ; the King not being able to speak
Englisli, and Sir Robert, like a country gentleman of
England, knowing nothing of either German or French.
' It was much talked of,' says the lively writer of the
' Reminiscences of the Courts of the first two Georges,'
' that Sir Robert, detecting one of the Hanoverian minis-
ters in some trick or falsehood before the King's face,
had the firmness to say to the German, " Mentiris im-
pudentissime ! " Tlie good-humoured monarch only
laughed, as he often did when Sir Robert complained to
him of his Hanoverians selling places, nor would be per-
suaded that it was not the practice of the English court.'
The singularity of this complaint is, that it was made by
a minister who was notorious for complacently saying,
that ' Every man in the House of Commons had his price.'
VOL. I.
130 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
CHAPTEE XII.
CROWX AXD GRAVE.
Ai-rival of Cai'oliuo, Princess of Wales — The King dines at the Guildhall —
Proclamation of the Pretender — Counter-proclamations— Govemment
prosecutions — A mutiny among the troops— Impeachment of the Duke
of Ormond of high treason — Punishment of political offenders — Failure
of rebellion in Scotland — Punishment for wearing oak-houghs — Riot at
the mug-house in Salisbury Court, and its fatal consequences — The
Prince of Wales removed from the palace — Dissensions between the
King and the Prince — Attempt on the life of King George — Marriage
of the Iving's illegitimate daughter — The South-Sea Bubble — Birth of
Prince William, the butcher of Culloden — Death of the Duchess of Zell
— Stricter imprisonment of the captive of Ahlden — Her calm death — A
new royal favourite, Mrs. Brett — Death of the King.
While Sephia Dorothea continued to linger in her prison,
her husband and son, with tlie mistresses of the former
and the wife of the latter, were enjoying the advantages
and anxieties which surround a throne. The wife of the
Prince of Wales, Caroline, arrived at Margate on the 13th
of October. She was accompanied by her two eldest
daughters, Anne and Amelia. Mother and children rested
during one day in the town where they had landed, sle])t one
night at Rochester, and arrived at St. James's on the 15th.
The royal coronation took place in Westminster Abbey
on the 20th of the same month. Amid the pomp of the
occasion, no one appears to have thought of her who
should have been Queen-consort. There was much
splendour and some calamity, for as the ])rocession was
sweeping by, several people were killed by tlic fall of
scafFokhng in the Pakice Yard. The new King entered
SOPHIA DOROTHEA. 131
the Abbey amid the cheers and screams of an excited
multitude.
Tliree days after, the monarch, with the Prince and
Princess of Wales, dined with the Lord Mayor and cor-
poration in the Guildhall, London, and there George per-
formed the first grateful service to his people, by placing
a thousand guineas in the hands of the sheriffs, for tlie
relief of the wretched debtors then immured in the neigh-
Ijouring horril3le prisons of-Xewgate and the Pleet.
Within a month, the general festivities were a little
man'bd by the proclamation of the Pretender, dated from
Lorraine, wherein he laid claim to the throne which
George was declared to have usurped. At this period
the Duke of Lorraine was a sovereign prince, maintaining
an envoy at our court ; but the latter was ordered to
withdraw from the country immediately after the amval
of the ' Lorraine proclamation ' by the French mail.
Already George I. began to feel that on the throne he
was destined to enjoy less quiet than his consort in her
prison.
The counter-proclamations made in this country,
chiefly on account of the Jacobite riots at Oxford and
some other places, were made up of nonsense and malig-
nity, and were well calculated to make a good cause wear
the semblance of a bad one. They decreed, or announced,
thanksgiving on the 20th of January, for the accession
of the House of Hanover ; and, to show what a portion
of the people had to be thankful for, they ordered a
rigorous execution of the laws against papists, non-jurors,
and dissenters generally, who were assumed to be, as a
matter of course, disaffected to the reioihno; house.
After some of the first troubles of his reign had been
got over, the King visited Hanover, where he invested his
brother, the Duke of York, and Prince Frederick with the
Order of the Garter. He even partook of the pleasures of
132 LIVES OF THE OUEENS OF ENGLAND.
tlie chase in the woods nroiind Alildeii ; but except ordering
a more stringent rule for the safe-kee])ing of his consort,
he took no further notice of Sophia Dorothea. lie returned,
to London on the IStli of January 1716-17, and on tliat
day week, hearing that the episcopal clergy of Scotland
continued to refuse to pray for him, he issued a decree,
which compelled many to fly the country or otherwise
abscond. The English clergy experienced even harsher
treatment for less offence. I may mention, as an instance,
the case of the Eev. Laurence Howell, who, for writing a
pamphlet called ' The State of Schism in the Church of Eng-
land truly stated,' was stripped of his gown by the execu-
tioner, fined 500/., imprisoned tln^ee years, and was sen-
tenced to be twice publicly whipped by tlie hangman !
On the first absence of the King from England, the
Prince of Wales was appointed regent, but he was never
entrusted with that high office a second time. ' It is pro-
bable,' says Walpole, ' that the son discovered too nuich
fondness for acting the king, as that the father conceived
a jealousy of his having done so. Sure it is, that on the
King's return, great divisions arose in the court, and the
Whigs were divided — some devoting themselves to the
wearer of the crown and others to the expectant.' So
that, in the second year of his reign, the King not only held
his wife in prison, but his son and heir was banished from
his presence.
Passing over the record of })ublic events, the next
interesting fact connected with the private life of the
faithless husband of Sophia Dorothea was the marriage of
liis illegitimate daughter Charlotte with Lord Viscount
Howe. The bride"s mother was Charlotte Sophia, daugliter
of the Countess von Platen ; and Charlotte Sophia was
decently mariied to Baron Kielmanseggc, Master of the
Horse to George I. In 1719, at the time of the above
marriage, the baroness was a widow. Georfje L himself
SOPHIA DOROTHEA. I 33
gave away the bride as the baroness's niece. ' The King,'
says Walpole, ' was indisputably her father ; and the first
child born of this union was named George, after the King.'
The Princess Amelia, daughter of George II., 'treated
Lady Howe's daughter, " Mistress Howe," as a princess of
tlie blood-royal, and presented her with a ring, containing
a small portrait of George I., witli a crown in diamonds.'
The best result of this marriage was, that the famous
Admiral Howe was one of the sons born of it, and tliat was
the only benefit which the country derived from the vicious
conduct of George I. If the marriage of the child of one
mistress tended to mortify the vanity of another, as is said
to have been the case with Von der Schulenburo;, Kinij
George found a way to pacify her. That lady was already
Duchess of Munster, in L^eland, and the King, in April
17 19, created her a baroness, countess, and duchess of Great
Britain, by the name, style, and title of Baroness of Glaston-
bury, Countess of Feversham, and Duchess of Kendal ;
and this done, the King soon after embarked at Gravesend
for Hanover.
The year 1720 saw King George more upon the Con-
tinent than at home, where indeed universal misery reigned,
in consequence of the bursting of the great South Sea
Bubble, which had promised such golden solidity — which
ended in such disappointment and ruin, and for furthering
which the Duchess of Kendal and her daughter received
bribes of 10,000/. each. In April of the following year,
William Auo-ustus was born at Leicester House. The
daughter of Sophia Dorothea was his godmother ; her
liusband and the Duke of York were the godfathers. This
son of George Augustus and Carohne of Anspach, Prince
and Princess of Wales, was afterwards famous as the Duke
of Cumberland.
On the 17th of January 1721, the royal family went into
mourning, and this was the only domestic incident of tlie
134 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
reigu in wliicli Sophia Dorothea was allowed to participate.
With her, the mourning was not a mere formality ; it was
not assumed, but was a testimony offered, in sign of her
sorrow, for the death of her mother, Eleanora, Duchess of
Zell. The Duchess had seen little of her daughter for
some time previous to her death, but she bequeathed to her
as much of her private property as she had power to
dispose of by ^vill.
Sophia Dorothea had now a considerable amount of
funds placed to her credit in the bank of Amsterdam. Of
the incidents of her captivity nothing whatever is known,
save that it was most rigidly maintained. She was for-
gotten by the world, because unseen, and they who kept
her in prison were as silent about her as the keepers of the
Man in the Iron Mask were about that mysterious object
of their soHcitude. Where little is known there is little
to be told. The captive bore her restraint with a patience
which even her daughter must have admired ; but she was
not without hopes of escaping from a thraldom from which
it w^as clear she could never be released by the voluntary
act of those who kept her in an undeserved custody. It
is beheved that her funds at Amsterdam were intended by
her to be disposed of in the purchase of aid to secure her
escape ; but it is added that her agents betrayed her,
embezzled her property, and by revealing for what purpose
they were her agents, brought upon her a closer arrest
than any under whicli she had hitherto suffered. Eomance
has made some additions to these items of intellicfence —
items, great portions of which rest only on conjecture.
The inidoubted fact that much of the pro])erty which she
inherited was to pass to her children rendered the death
of a mother a consummation to be desired by (it was said)
so indifferent a son and daughter as the Prince of Wales
and the Queen of Trussia. The interest held by her
huslxmd was of a similar description, and the fatal con-
SOPHIA DOROTHEA. 135
sequences tlmt might follow were not unprovided for by
the friends of the prisoner. ' It is known,' says Walpole,
' that in Queen Anne's time there was much noise about
French prophets. A female of that vocation (for we know
from Scripture that the gift of prophecy is not limited to
one gender) warned George I. to take care of his wife, as
he would not survive her a year. That oracle was pro-
bably dictated to the French Deborah by the Duke and
Duchess of Zell, who might be apprehensive that the
Duchess of Kendal might be tempted to remove entirely
the obstacle to her conscientious union with their son-in-
law. Most Germans are superstitious, even such as have
few other impressions of religion. George gave such
credit to the denunciation, that, on the eve of his last
departure, he took leave of his son and the Princess of
Wales with tears, telling them he should never see them
more. It was certainly his own approaching end that
melted him, not the thought of quitting for ever two per-
sons that he hated.'
The poor princess, ' Queen of Great Britain,' as those
who loved her were wont to call her, had been long
in declining health, born of declining hopes ; and yet she
endured all things with patience, contenting herself in her
last moments with reasserting her innocence, commending
herself to God, naming her children, and pardoning her
oppressors. On the 2ud of November 1726, after much
hope, not only deferred but crushed out; after much disap-
pointment of expectations, built on the promises of false
friends ; and after marked but gradual decrease of health,
Sophia Dorothea became suddenly and dangerously ill.
She lost all consciousness, and on the 13th of the month
she lay d.ead on her bed in the castle of Ahlden.
The news soon reached Hanover, where the authori-
ties, with a feeling of becomingness, ordered a general
mourning as for the death of a queen in the land. As
T36 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
soon as tliis decent ^^tep was known in England, the
Xing Avas vulgar in his wrath. lie sent peremptory
orders to Hanover to do away immediately with all signs
of mourning, and the officials, if not the public, went into
ordinary, or holiday, gear.
At the Court of Berlin, the daughter of Sophia
Dorothea, the King, and consequently all the Prussian
fashionable world, assumed the deepest mourning, as for
a Queen of England so nearly allied to the Queen of
Prussia. The King of Great Britain took this natural
circumstance for an insult ; but he was obliged to bear,
albeit with blaspheming impatience, what he could not
resent. The simple royal order for the funeral was that
the Duchess of Ahlden should be buried in a grave dug
for her on the banks of the Aller. The soil was dug
into, over and over again, but the water rushed in and
mocked the attempts of the workmen. Meanwhile, the
body of So])hia Dorothea lay in a plain leaden coffin in
the castle and no one knew what to do with it, for fear
of offending the King. After several weeks had passed,
a few strong men carried it. down to a cellar, and, cover-
ing it over with a cart-load or two of sand, left it till
further gracious orders should arrive from over the
water.
At the end of six months there was a stir in the
royal stud stables at Zell. Four of the King's horses were
taken thence and were ridden over to Ahlden. The chief
of the men in charge there showed the ro3-al order by
which he was commissioned to take u]) the b(xly from
l)eneath the heap of sand and carry it back to Zell. And
this was to be done without any ceremon}' whatever.
Accordingly, at midnight the coffin was dragged
from under the sand, hoisted into a suitable vehicle, and
it was imceremoniously jolted over the rough roads till
it reached the chief church in the old ducal city of Zell.
SOPHIA DOROTHEA. 137
The necessary workpeople were ready. They carried
the plain leaden coffin down to the vault below, and
without any circumstance of prayer or outward respect,
they cast it into a corner ; and there it still lies, without
even a name on the rough lead to indicate whose sad
burthen of life is deposited within.
Her royal husband in England simply notified in the
London Gazette that a Duchess of Ahlden had died at
her residence on the date above named ; but he did not
add that he had thereby lost a wife, or his children lost
a mother. No intimation was given of the relation-
ship she held towards him or them. The quality
of his affection was illustrated by his explosion
of rage when he heard that his daughter, with
the Court of Prussia, had gone into mourning for the
death of her mother. The husband of Sophia Dorothea
became of gayer humour than usual after her death.
After receiving intelligence of that event, the royal
widower went to see the Italian comedians in the Hay-
market act ' II Mercante Prodigo,' or ' Harlequin Pro-
digal Merchant.' He liked this sort of entertainment so
well, that, a few nights later, he commanded the perform-
ance of ' Pantalone, Barone di Sloffenburgo,' at the
King's Theatre. On Christmas Eve, the newspapers re-
corded the fiict that Prince Waldeck (who had come over
with despatches in November) had taken leave of his
Majesty and had returned to Hanover. Therewith seemed
to have come the end of a long, and dark, and mournful
history.
In the list of the persons of note and distinction iu
Great Britain and Ireland, and of the Foreign Princes
who died in the year 1726 — published in the Daily Post
hi January 1727, no record was made of the demise of
Sophia Dorothea. On the other hand, there is an entry
of a bereavement by which her husband, the King, had
J
8 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
been alllicted, in the same month of November, namely,
in the death of ' Mr. Mahomet, valet de cJiambre to his
Majesty.'
A story was current that Sophia Dorothea, on her
death-bed, liad summoned her husband, the King, to
meet her at the great judgment seat of Heaven within a
year. This summons was conveyed in a letter addressed
by her to him, but it was not dehvered to the King till
after he had, in nervous restlessness, set out for Hanover.
On the night of the 2nd of June 1727, little Horace
Walpole, then ten years old, was conducted by the King's
illegitimate daughter, Petronilla Melusina (Lady Walsing-
ham) to the King himself, to kiss the royal hand as his Majesty
passed on his Avay to sup (for the last time, as it proved)
with Petronilla's mother (the former von der Schulen-
burg, now Duchess of Kendal) the King's old mistress.
This presentation had been accorded to the prayer of the
first minister's wife, Horace Walpole's mother.
On the following day, the 3rd of June, the King left Eng-
land. On the night of that day week he died at Osnaburgh,
aged sixty-seven years and thirteen days. The King had
landed at Vaer, in Holland, on the 7th, and he travelled
thence to Utrecht, by land, escorted by the Guards to
the frontiers of Holland. On Friday, the 9th, he reached
Dalden, at twelve at night, when he was apparently in
excellent health. He partook of supper largely, and
with appetite, eating, among other things, part of a
melon, a fruit which has killed more than one emperor
of Germany. At three the next morning he resumed his
j(jurney. According to the story to which allusion has
just been made, the letter of Sophia Dorothea was then
given to him. He read it, appeared shocked, and became
ill. He was probably moved 1)y something more than
mere sentiment, for he had not travelled two hours when
he was attacked by violent abd(jminal pains. He hurried
SOPHIA DOROTHEA, 139
on to Liudeii, where dinner awaited him ; but, being able
to eat nothing, he was immediately bled, and other reme-
dies made use of. Anxious to reach Hanover, he ordered
the journey to be continued with all speed. He fell into
a lethargic doze in the carriage, and so continued, leaning
on a gentleman in waiting who was with him in the
carriage. To this attendant he feebly announced in
French, ' I am a dead man.' He reached the episcopal
palace at Osnaburgh at ten that night ; was again bled in
the arm and foot, but ineffectually ; his lethargy increased,
and he died about midniglit.
The King's mistress, the Duchess of Kendal, who had
gone thither to meet him, tore her hair, beat her breast,
and uttered loud cries of despair at this bereavement.
She repaired to Brunswick and shut lierself up, for three
months, as the most afflicted of widows. Subsequently,
she returned to her house near Isleworth. A raven was
the last pet of this lady ; and the familiarity of the two
gave rise to the popular legend that George had pro-
mised to visit his old mistress, after death, if such cir-
cumstance were allowed, and that he was keeping his
word in the shape of the much caressed bird in sables.
Even in her estrangement from her husband, Sophia
Dorothea never uttered a word of complaint against him.
She never failed to exhibit either mildness or dignity in
her captivity : on the contrary, she manifested both ; and
Coxe saj^s of her, in his ' Memoirs of Walpole,' that, ' on
receiving the sacrament once every week, she never
omitted making the most solemn asseverations that she
was not guilty of the crime laid to her charge.' Her
son (George II.) had a double fault in his father's eyes,
namely, his popularity, and, at one time, his love for his
mother — whom he loved, we are told, as much as he
hated his liither. A pleasant household, a sorry hearth ;
mistresses resting their rouged cheeks on the monarch's
140 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
bosom, a wife in prison, and a son hating her oppressor,
and loving, but not redressing, the oppressed. Had
Sophia Dorothea survived lier consort, lier son, it is said,
had determined to bring lier over to England and pro-
claim her Queen-dowager. Lad}' Suffolk, the snubbed
mistress of that son, expressed to Horace Walpole her
siu'prise on going (in the morning after the intelligence of
the death of George I. had reached England) to the new
Queen, ' at seeing, hung u}) in the Queen's dressing-
room, a whole-length of a lady in ro3'al robes ; and, in
the bed-chamber, a half-length of the same person, neither
of which Lady Suffolk had ever seen before. The prince
had kept them concealed, not daring to produce them
during the life of his father. The whole-length he pro-
bably sent to Hanover. The half-length I liave fi-equently
seen in the library of the Princess Amelia, who told me it
was the property of her grandmother. Slie bequeathed it,
with other pictures of her family, to her nephew, the
Lando-rave of Hesse.'
If George II. never in his later days named his mother,
it was because the enemies of the d^masty pretended to
trace in the features of the second George a likeness to
Count Konigsmark, his mother's gallant cavalier ! The
Whigs had denied tlie legitimacy of the son of James II.,
and the Tories embi'aced with eagerness an opportunity to
deny that of the heir of Brunswick.
The son of Sophia Dorothea was the pupil of his
grandmother, So])hia of Hanover ; and his boyhood did
little credit to tlie system, or the acknowledged good
sense of his instructress.
Wlien the Earl of Macclesfield was at Hanover, in the
year ] 700, bearing with him tliat Act of Succession which
secured a lln'one for the husbiuid and son of Sopliia
Dorothea, tliat son, George Augustus, was not j'ct out of
his ' teens.' He was of that age at which a ])rince is
SOPHIA DOROTHEA. \\\
considered wise enoiigli to rule kingdoms, but is yet
incapable of governing liimself. At that time he was
said to ' give the greatest hopes of himself that we, or any
people on earth, could desire.' He was not of proud
stature, indeed — and Alexander was not six feet liigh ;
but Toland asserts, what is very hard to believe, that
George possessed a winning countenance, and a manly
aspect and deportment. In later years, he was rigid of
feature, and walked as a man does who is stiff in the
joints. He was, in the days of his youth, a graceful and
easy speaker ; that is, his phrases were well constructed,
and he expressed them with facility. His complexion
was foir, and his hair a light brown. Like his father, he
spoke Latin fkiently ; and English nuich better tlian his
father, but with a decided foreign accent, like William
of Orange. As the utmost care was taken, according to
Toland, to furnish him with such other accomplishments
as are lit for a gentleman and a prince, it is a pity that
he made so unprofitable a use of so desirable a provision.
He was tolerably well-versed in history, but history to
him was not philosopliy teaching by example ; for though,
in his earlier years, panegyrists said of him, not only that
his inclinations were virtuous, but that he was ' wholly
free from all vice,' his life, subsequently, could not be so
characterised, and the later practice marred the fair pre-
cedent. But let Toland limn the object of his love.
' These acquired parts,' he sa3^s, ' with a generous dis-
position and a virtuous inclination, will deservedly render
him tlie darling of our people, and probably grace the
English throne with a most kno^ving prince.' In the
popular sense of the term, the last words cannot be
denied ; and yet he never knew how to obtain, or cared
how to merit, his people's love. ' He learns Englisli with
inexpressible facility, and has not only learned of his
grandmother to have a real esteem for Englishmen, but
142 LIVES OF THE (lUEENS OF ENGLAND.
lie likewise entertains a high notion of the wisdom, good-
ness, and power of the English government, concerning
which I heard him, to my great satisfaction, ask several
pertinent questions, and such as betokened no mean or
common observation. I w\as surprised to find he imder-
stood so much of our affairs already ; but his gi'eat
vivacity will not let him be ignorant of anything. There
is nothing more to be wished,' says Toland, ' but that he
be proof against the temptations which accompany great-
ness, and defended from the poisonous infection of
flatterers, wrho are the greatest bane of society, and com-
monly occasion the ruin of princes, if not in their lives,
yet, at least, in their fame and reputation.' It was under
the temptations alluded to that George Augustus made
shipwreck of his fame. His history, however, will be
traced more fully hereafter. At present we will only
consider the career and character of his sister.
The daughter of Sophia Dorothea, some years younger
than her brother, was a promising girl when the Act of
Succession opened a throne to her ftither, but not to her
mother. She had in her youth sweetness of manners,
fiiirness of features, and a soft and winning voice. Her
fjiir brown hair, as in her mother's case, heightened the
grace and cliarms of a fair complexion ; and her blue
eyes were tlie admiration of the poets, and the inspiration
even of those whom the gods had not made poetical.
Her features, taken singly, were not without defect ; but
the expression which pervaded them was a good sub-
stitute for purely unintellectual beauty. The Electress
Sophia was, if not her governess, the superintendent of her
governesses ; and the training, rigid and formal, failed in
the development that was most to be desired. ' In minding
her discourse to others,' says Toland, ' and by what she
was pleased to say to myself, she appears to have a more
than ordinary share of good sense and wit. The whole
SOPHIA DORO THE A . 143
town and court commend the easiness of her manners,
and the evenness of her disposition ; but, above all her otlier
quaUties, they highly extol her good humour, which is the
most valuable endowment of either sex, and the foundation
of most other virtues. Upon the whole, considering her
personal merit and the dignity of her family, I heartily
wish and hope to see her some day Queen of Sweden.'
This hearty wish was not to be realised. The younger
Sophia Dorothea became the wife of a brute and the mother
of a hero. The old paternal Seigneurie of ' D'Olbreuse,
dans le pays D'Aulnis,' was raised to the dignity of a
Countship in 1729. It became the property of Sopliia
Dorothea's children, George II., King of England, and
Sophia, Queen of Prussia. They, with some propriety —
but "probably under constraint of the lav/ of France —
made it over to the nearest French relative of Eleanora
D'Olbreuse, Sophia Dorothea's mother — Alexandre Pre-
vost de Gayemont.
This would seem to be the end of a sad history. But
the persecution of Sophia Dorothea did not terminate
with her life.
A hundred and seven years after Sophia Dorothea
had ended that unhappy life, her unhappy story was
revived, and lier memory was now made to suffer under
calumny that had not been thought of in her hfe-time.
In the year 1833 a Swede, named Propst Wisselgren,
contributed to No. 33 of the ' Magazin fiir die Literatur
des Auslandes ' the copy of an alleged love-letter, the
original of which existed, it was said, in Sophia Dorothea's
hand-writing, in the archives of the Count de la Gardie.
In the year 1836 Cramer, in his ' Denkwlirdigkeiten
der Griifin Maria Aurora von Konigsmark,' referred to
this letter, and expressed his disbelief in its genuineness
and authenticity.
Until 1847 the memory of Sophia Dorothea was left
144 LIVES OF THE QUEEXS OF EXGE4XD.
iinassailed by any furtlier attempt against it. In that
year, liowever, further alleged autograph letters, not only
of hers, but also others said to be written by Konigsniark,
a})peared in the ' Literarische Blatter fur Unterhaltung.'
They were preceded by an introduction and explanations
by the Swedish writer Palmblad, who had selected them,
it was stated, from more than a hundred which were
then ill the possession of Count Stephen de la Gardie, of
Loberod, in Schonen.
IIow did these alleged autograph letters find their
way into Sweden ?
They had previously been kept, w^e are gravely told,
in a drawer in Oeliwedskloster, by the widowed Countess
Amelia Eamel (a Lowenhaui)t by birth), at whose death,
in 1810, they came into the possession of her son, a
Count de la Gardie. Loberod was acquired by a Count
Jacob Gustus de la Gardie in 1817.
But how did the Lady Amelia Eamel become the
holder of these extraordinary documents ?
The ans^ver is : As the descendant of General Karl
von Lowenhaupt, who had married Amelia, one of the
two sisters of Konigsniark. This lady is stated to have
made over this mass of letters to her children, Avith this
observation : Here are the letters captured again
(wiedererobert) at great peril, which cost a brother his
life and a kino's mother her freedom.
Captured, seized, recovered at great peril ! When ?
where ? by whom P from whom ?
No reply ; not the smallest particle of evidence is
given on these important points. If they were obtained
luider circumstances of great danger, it must have been
from some one who considered them of great importance,
but who nuist have allowed himself to be plundered of
them with great indiflerence. No one ever heard of the
SOPHIA DOROTHEA. 1 45
robbery or capture, nor of the means by which it was
effected.
In 1838 one letter saw the hght. In 1847 several
were published in Germany and Sweden, To all enquiry,
no other answer has been made than that the letters had
existed since 1810 in the keeping of the persons above
named ; that they had come down from Amelia Konigs-
mark, who had wedded with a Lowenhaupt ; that they
were genuine letters, and that they conclusively proved
the guilt of Sophia Dorothea and Count Konigsmark.
Sophia Dorothea, it must be remembered, never had
the guilt implied laid to her charge. The name of Konigs-
mark was never once uttered at her trial — if it may so be
called. She was punished for alleged disobedience to, and
desertion of, her husband. She retained so much of the
character of a wife that she was not allowed to marry
again. She remained till her death the wife of a King of
England, with whom she would hold no association. Her
husband kept her for more than thirty years a state
prisoner. How could this cruelty be better justified than
by blasting her character and memory for ever — long
after all parties were far beyond questioning ? How
could this dire penalty be inflicted, after death, more
easily than by preparing a correspondence between the
two personages, which might be kept in a cloister
drawer till it could be produced to serve its infamous
l^urpose ?
The persons who held these papers in later years may
have conscientiously believed in their genuineness. Of
the contemporaries of Sophia Dorothea, tlie Countess von
Platen and even Bernstorf are said to have been able to
imitate the handwriting of Sophia Dorothea. We do not
insinuate that they were willing to forge these letters.
But some one probably did so. Konigsmark's letters
may indeed be genuine ; but it does not follow that they
VOL. I. L
146 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
were addressed to the wife of him who was afterwards
George I. Without name, date, or address, they raiglit
serve to calumniate any other lady of Sophia Dorothea's
time.
Of the letters themselves, Palmblad, who inspected
the precious collection, states in his 'Aurora Koiiigsmark,'
or rather in an appendix to the first part of that historical
romance, that they consist of several hundreds, of which
two-thirds are by Konigsmark, the other third by Sophia
Dorothea, and that in print they would fill a stout
volume.
Those of the princess are in an elegant, somewhat
flowing hand, and, with rare exception, correct in expres-
sion. They are on fine, gilt-edged paper. Konigsmark's
letters are, we are told, on coarse, thick paper, which
hardly agreed with his fine gentlemanly style in every-
thing. They are legibly written, but the spelling is that
of an ignorant school-boy.
In some portions, cyphers, numbers, or disguised
names were used, the interpretation of which was easily
got at, as would be tlie case if the letters were forged
and were intended to be easily understood a centm^y after
the events had happened to which they referred.
Very few of the letters — none of importance — have
any address on them. They have strayed from their
envelopes, says Palmblad ; but envelopes were not then
in use. Letters were folded and the address written on
the blank outside folding. Some few, according to Palm-
blad, have external directions and are sealed with
Konigsmark's private seal — a heart within the motto, ' Cosi
fosse il vostro dentre il mio' (so may be yours within
mine !). Tlie post-mark is on some. One of them is
directed, ' Pour la personne connue.' Palmblad suggests
that it was originally enclosed within one 'to the Con-
fidant.' Several are addressed to ' Mademoiselle La
SOPHIA DOROTHEA. 1 47
Frole de Knesebeck.' The latter name is occasionally spelt
' Qnesbegk.' A nearly complete (and very convenient)
absence of dates defies all attempts to place this corre-
spondence in anything like chronological order. Con-
jecturally, the experts suggest that the dates extend from
1688 to 1693, inclusive — six years.
When it is remembered that the princess and Konigs-
mark were closely watched, in order, if possible, to make
a case out against them, and that the two friends knew
they were surrounded by spies, the idea of their sending
letters through the post, and of such letters being pre-
served instead of destroyed, seems folly too absurd for
serious, behef.
' The contents of these letters,' Palmblad informs us,
' consist, for the most part, of mutual assurances of love
and everlasting fidelity; of complaints over separation and
of the constraint put on them by the secret relations
existing between them ; of plans for privately meeting, or
expressed hopes of a coming uninterrupted life together ;
of accounts of their occupations, pleasures, and their
conversational intercourse with others ; mixed up with
jealous reproaches, and subsequent apologies for making
them. When both pass an evening at court festivals,
where the princess is unable to bestow a tender glance or
a stolen word on her beloved, or has spoken or walked
with another cavalier, then Konigsmark addresses to her
an epistle full of complaints at her coquetry, and her ' airs
connus.' With the same mistrust does the princess notice
every step of her (supposed) adorer. Nevertheless, no two
persons so tenderly loved one another as Konigsmark his
Leonisse — the fond pseudonym of the princess.'
As far as the above description goes, any fairly prac-
tised hand might have invented the whole series of letters.
Even Professor Palmblad does not venture to guess
when the correspondence began. His assertion that
l2
14^ LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
Koiiigsmark was at Hanover, in the military service of
that state, in 1685, is disproved by the painstaking author
of ' Die Herzogin von xihlden,' who finds Konigsmark
settled there not till 1688. Pahnblad, Avith his earlier
date, points laughingly to the birth of Sopliia Dorothea's
daughter, in 1687; and asks if the Prussian royal family,
into which that daughter married, has in its veins the
blood of Guelph or of Konigsmark. In like easy manner,
regardless of chronolo";v, the Jacobites in En2:land used to
speak of the son of George I. as ■" Young Konigsmark ! '
When Konigsmark was absent campaigning, the
princess, says Palmblad, sent him her portrait, and he
returned a gift of his own portrait, painted expressly for
her in Brussels. Whereupon, Palmblad says, ' the princess
forwarded to him her diary.' This has not yet been
found or forged, but Palmblad has no doubt as to the
nature of its contents. The whole story is founded ou
letters wliich the least scrupulous of autograph dealers
would hesitate to warrant.
What follows is to be read witli the remembrance
that the plotters against Sophia Dorothea never lost sight
of her or of the count. They could not make a step
without being observed by spies, employed by principals
who wished to destroy both the princess and Konigsmark.
Through the very eye-holes of the tapestried figures in the
palace human eyes peered, in search of evidence to work
the ruin of those two friends. Not finding it, Konigsmark
was secretly murdered, and Sophia Dorothea shut u[) for
the remainder of her life, on no other charge than that of
deserting her liusband's society and refusing to return
to it.
This is Palmblad's stoiy : ' During Konigsmark's
presence at court, he was generally admitted to the
princess by her confidant, after midnight, and he some-
times remained four-and-twenty hours with her. lie had
SOPHIA DOROTHEA, 1 49
previously declared himself indisposed and under medical
regimen as an excuse for appearing to keep within doors.
Aye,' adds Palmblad, bolder grown, ' the princess herself
glided secretly at night into Konigsmark's quarters '
(which were at some distance from the pahice). ' She speaks
in the most fervid expressions of her love, her ' ardeur,' and
declares herself ready to sacrifice for him her reputation,
and to accompany him to the remotest corner of the
world I Konigsmark hesitates ; his fortune is not secure,
his position uncertain, and he must first seek glory and
riches in war : but her prayers detain him in Hanover.'
These two persons could have said this and more to
one another in complete or comparative safety. To
write such things down, and to preserve what was written,
was madness, fatal to life and honour if discovered. But
if these, and much worse, were not written down by some
one, how could Sophia Dorothea be made infamous for
ever in the eyes of posterity ?
One can only judge of the bushel by the sample ;
and of the whole correspondence, which is now in the
library of the University of Lund, by the fragmentary
extracts which have been made public. If two pei'sons,
knowing they were watched, and their letters detained,
could write such fiercely ardent assurances of mutual
love, express such utter contempt for the consequences
of discovery, and explain to one another how they were
tracked and betrayed, they must have been hopelessly
insane. An enemy would bend invention to such course
as the one best calculated to destroy those against whom
it was directed. But there is one point which seems
conclusive against the genuineness of this correspondence.
There are passages in the alleged letters of Konigsmark
to the princess which no man, hoAvever devoid of every
manly quality, would write to a woman whom he loved
— would write to any woman at fdl. These passages
I50 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
not even the most utterly and irretrievably abandoned of
women would be able to read without sense of insult and
outrage even to such soiled and shattered womanhood
as hers. A man writing such things, supposing tliey were
intelligible to the person addressed, would in that per-
son's eyes be loathsome and execrable for ever.
Of course it is a horrible thought that any one could
be sufficiently wicked and cruel to forge letters with the
idea of slaying reputations by the forgery. But this
wickedness and this cruelty were not uncommon. Scores
upon scores of letters have been forged in France alone
in order to destroy the reputation of Sir Isaac Newton.
As a mere matter of profitable business, the manu-
factory of forged letters, simply for the market, is
in the greatest possible activity. A letter by any one,
wi'itten at any time, eagerly demanded, is sure to be
supphed after a while. Letters, with other pm'pose in
view than mere profit — intended to turn up in long after
years, in order to fasten a calumny on some victim — are
also not uncommon. One instance may be cited in the
case of the multitudinous forged letters of Shelley. The
late Mr. Moxon published a volume of Shelley letters ; and
soon after he withdrew the volume, on discovery that
every one of these letters was a forgery. Stray letters of
Shelley, however, continued to come into the market.
Letters to his wife of the most confidential nature, con-
taining vile aspersions against his father, were bought as
genuine by Sir Percy Shelley, the poet's son. These,
too, were discovered to be forgeries and were destroyed.
One of these precious epistles, addressed to Byron, and
bearing Shelley's signature, contained an assertion against
the fidelity of 'Harriet.' Whoever bought it paid six
guineas for a calumny against a dead and defenceless
woman, to which was a])pended the forged signature of
her dead and defenceless husband. Till somethin'^ more
SOPHIA DOROTHEA, I5I
is known of the history of the alleged correspondence be-
tween Sophia Dorothea and Konigsmark — of which corre-
spondence nothing was known to the world till more
than a century after her death — let us put against it her
own assertions of her innocence. It is only a woman's
word ; but it was asserted on solemn occasions, and it
may surely be accepted against the letters which were not
put forth till long after she, too, was dead and defence-
less, who, when li\^ng, was not charged with the guilt
which this mysterious correspondence would cast heavily
upon her.
Sophia Dorothea, from the time her husband ascended
the throne of Great Britain, was, in a sort of loving
sorrow, called by the few left to love her — the Queen.
She was indeed an uncrowned Queen of England. As
little really of a queen as Caroline of Brunswick in after
years. But her true place, nevertheless, is among them.
Her blood — the blood of the French Protestant, Seigneur
D'Olbreuse — has doubly asserted itself. Through the son
of Sophia Dorothea and his descendants, it flows in the veins
of that honoured lady, the Queen of Great Britain and
Empress of India. Through the daughter of Sophia
Dorothea, it is inherited by the Emperor of Germany ;
and the inheritance was enriched and strengthened when
the Princess Eoyal of England became the wife of the
Crown Prince of Prussia, the heu' of the German Empire.
153
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA,
WIFE OF GEORGE II.
Da seufzt sie, da presst sie das Herz — es war
Ja Lieb und Gliick nnr getriinmet.
Geibel.
CHAPTER I.
BEFORE THE ACCESSIOX.
Birth of Princess Caroline — Her early married life — Eulogised by the poets
— Gaiety of the Court of the Prince and Princess at Leicester House —
Beauty of Miss Bellenden — Mrs. Howard, the Prince's favourite — Intole-
rable grosoness of the Court of George the First — Lord Chesterfield and
the Princess — The mad Ducliess — Buckingham House — Eural retreat of
the Prince at Richmond ; the resort of wit and beauty — Swift's pungent
verses — The fortunes of the young adventurers, Mr. and Mrs. Howard —
The Queen at her toilette — Mrs. Clayton, her influence with Queen
Caroline — The Prince ruled by his wife — Dr. Ai-buthnot and Dean
Swift — The Princess's regard for Newton and Halley — Lord Maccles-
field's fall — His superstition, and that of the Princess — Prince Frederick's
vices — Xot permitted to come to England — Severe rebuff to Lord Hard-
wicke — Dr. Mead — Courage of the Prince and Princess — The Princess's
friendship for Dr. Friend — Swift at Leicester House — IJoyal visit to
' Bartlemy Fair.'
Caroline Wilhelmina Dorothea was the daughter of
John Frederick, Marquis of Brandenburg Anspach, and of
Eleanor Erdmutli Louisa, his second wife, daughter of
John George, Duke of Saxe Eisenach. She was born in
1683, and married the Electoral Prince of Hanover,
afterwards George H., in the year 1705. Her mother
having re-married, after her father's death, when
Caroline was very young, the latter left the court of her
step-father, George IV., Elector of Saxony, for that of her
154 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
guardian, Frederick, Elector of Brandenburg, afterwards
King of Tiussia. The Electress of Brandenburg was the
daughter of Sophia, Electress of Hanover, and sister of
Georfi^e I. The young Carohne was considered fortunate
in being placed under the care of a lady, wdio, it was
said at the time, w^ould assuredly give her a ' tincture of
her own pohteness.'
Notice has already been taken of the suitors who early
offered themselves for the hand of the youthful princess ;
and for what excellent reason she selected the son of
Sopliia Dorothea. It was said, Avhen she came to share
the throne of England with her Jiusband, that Heaven
had especially reserved her in order to make Great
Britain happy. Her early married life was one of some
gaiety, if not of fehcity ; and Baron Pilnitz says in his
Memoir, that when the Electoral family of Hanover was
called to the throne of this country, she showed more
cool carelessness for the additional grandeur than any of
the family, whose outward indifference was a matter of
admiration, in the old sense of that word, to all who
beheld it. The Princess Caroline, according to the
baron, particularly demonstrated that she was thoroughly
satisfied in her mind that she could be happy without a
crown, and that ' both her father-in-law and her husband
were already kings in her eyes, because they higldy
deserved that title.' Of her conduct during the period
she was Princess of Wales, the same writer says that she
favoured neither political party, and was equally es-
teemed by each. This, however, is somewhat beside the
truth.
The poets were as much concerned with the Princess
of Wales as the politicians. Some abused, and some
adored her. Addison, in 1714, assured her that the
Muse waited on her person, and that she herself was
13oiu to strenjillicn and to ;^race uur isle.
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 155
The same writer could not contemplate the daughter
of Caroline, but that his prophetic eye professed to —
Already see the illustrious youths complain,
And future monarchs doom'd to sigh in vain.
Frederick (Duke of Gloucester), the elder and less
loved son of Caroline, was not yet in England, but her
favourite boy, William, was at her side ; and of him
Addison said, that he had ' the mother's sweetness and
the father's fire.' The poet went on, less to prophesy
than to speculate with a ' perhaps ' on the future destiny
of William of Cumberland ; and it was well he put in the
saving word, for nothing could be less like fact than the
' fortune ' alluded to in the following lines : —
For thee, perhaps, even now of kingly race.
Some daw^ning beauty blooms in every grace.
Some Caroline, to Heaven's dictates true,
Who, while the sceptred rivals vainly sue.
Thy inborn worth with conscious eyes shall see,
And slight th' imperial diadem for thee.
Of the princess herself, he says more truly, that
she —
with graceful ease
And native majesty is form'd to please.
And he adds, that the stage, growing refined, will draw
its finished heroines from her, who was herself known to
be ' skill'd in the labours of the deathless muse.' In
short, Parnassus was made to echo with eulogies of or
epigrams upon this royal lad3^ George L, for years
together, never addressed a word to the Prince of Wales,
but the princess would compel him, as Count Broglie, the
French ambassador writes, to answer the remarks which
she addressed to him when she encountered him ' in
public' ' But even then,' says the count, ' he only speaks
to her on these occasions for the sake of decorum.'
She-devil was the appellation connnonly employed by
156 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
the amiable King to designate liis liigh-spirited daughter-
in-law.
The Prince and Princess of Wales, on withdrawing
from St. James's, established their court in ' Leicester
Fields.' Of this court, Walpole draws a pleasant picture.
It must have been a far livelier locality than that of the
King, whose ministers were the older Whig politicians.
' The most promising,' says Walpole, ' of the young lords
and gentlemen of that party, and the prettiest and
liveliest of the young ladies, formed the new court of the
Prince and Princess of Wales. The apartment of the
bedchamber- women in waiting became the fashionable
evening rendezvous of the most distinguished wits and
beauties : Lord Chesterfield, Lord Stanhope, Lord Scar-
borough, Carr (Lord Hervey), elder brother of the more
known John Lord Hervey, and reckoned to have superior
parts ; General (at that time only Colonel) Charles
Churchill, and others, not necessary to mention, were
constant attendants ; Miss Lepell, afterwards Lady
Hervey, my mother^ Lady Walpole, Mrs. Selwyn, mother
of the famous George, and herself of much vivacity, and
pretty ; Mrs. Howard, and, above all, for universal
admiration. Miss Bellenden, one of the maids of honour.
Her face and person were charming; lively she was
almost to etourderie ; and so agreeable she was, that I
never heard her mentioned afterwards by one of her
contemporaries Avho did not prefer her as the most
perfect creature they ever knew.'
To this pleasant party in this pleasant resort, the
Prince of Wales often came — his chief attraction being,
not the wit or worth of the party, but the mere beauty of
one of the party forming it. This was Miss Bellenden,
who, on the other hand, saw nothing in the fair-haired
and httle prince that could attract her admiration. The
CAROLINE VVILHELMINA DOROTHEA. I 57
prince was never famous for much delicacy either of
expression or sentiment, but he could exhibit a species of
wit in its way. He had probably been contemplating the
engraving of the visit of Jupiter to the nymph Danae in
a shower of gold, when he took to pouring the guineas
from his purse in Miss Bellenden's presence. He seemed
to her, if we may judge by the comment she made upon
his conduct, much more like a villainous little bashaw
offering to purchase a Circassian slave ; and on one
occasion, as he went on counting the glittering coin, she
exclaimed, ' Sir, I cannot bear it ; if you count your
money any more I will go out of the room,' She did
even better, by marrying the man of her heart. Colonel
John Campbell — a step at which the prince, when it
came to his knowledge, affected to be extremely indig-
nant ; and never forgave her for an offence, which indeed
Avas no offence and required no forgiveness. The prince,
like tliat young Duke of Orleans who thouglit he would
suffer in reputation if he liad not a ' favourite ' in his
train, let his regard stop at Mi's. Howard, another of his
wife's bedchamber-women, wdio was but too happy to
receive such regard, and to return it witli all required
attachment and service.
The Princess of Wales, during tlie I'eign of her father-
in-law, maintained a brilliant court, and presided over a
gay round of pleasures. In this career she gained that
which she sought after — popularity. What she did ft-om
policy, her husband the prince did from taste ; and the
encouragement and promotion of pleasure were followed
by the one as a means to an end, by the other for the sake
of the pleasure itself. Every morning there was a
drawing-room at the princess's, and twice a week the
same splendid reunion in her apartments, at night. This
gave tlie fashion to a very wide circle ; crowded
158 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
assemblies, balls, masquerades, and ridottos became the
' rage ; ' and from the fatigues incident thereto, the
votaries of fashion found relaxation in plays and operas.
Quiet people were struck by the change which had
come over court circles since the days of ' Queen Anne,
wlio had always been decent, chaste, and formal.' The
change indeed was great, but diverse of aspect. Thus the
court of pleasure at which Caroline reigned supreme was
a court where decency was respected ; respected, at least,
as much as it well could be at a time when no su))er-
abimdance of respect for decency was exhibited in any
quarter. Still, there was not the intolerable grossness in
the house of the prince which was to be met with in the
very presence of liis sire. Lord Chesterfield said of that
sire that ' he had nothing bad in him as a man,' and yet
he records of him that he had no respect for women —
but some liking, it may be added, for tliose who had little
principle and much fat. ' He brought over with him,'
says Chesterfield, ' two considerable samples of his bad
taste and good stomacli — the Duchess of Kendal and the
Coiuitess of Darlington ; leaving at Hanover, because she
happened to be a Papist, the Countess von Platen, whose
weight and circumference was little inferior to theirs.
These standards of his Majesty's tastes made all those
ladies who aspired to liis favour, and wlio were near the
statutable size, strain and swell themselves, like the frogs
in the fable, to rival the bulk and dignity of the ox.
Some succeeded and others burst.' If tlie house of the
son was not the abode of all the virtues, it at least was
not the stye wherein wallowed his father. Upon the
change of fashion, Chesterfield writes to Bubb Dodington,
in 1716, the year when Caroline began to be looked up
to as tlie arbitress of fashion : — ' As for the gay part of the
town, you would find it nuich more flourishing than when
you left it. Balls, assenibhes, and masquerades liave
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 1 59
taken the place of dull, formal, visiting days, and the
women are much more agreeable trifles than they were
designed. Puns are extremely in vogue, and the license
very great. The variation of three or four letters in a
word breaks no squares, insomuch that an indifferent
punster may make a very good figure in the best
companies.' The gaiety at the town residence of the
prince and princess did not, however, accompany them to
Eichmond Lodge. There Caroline enjoyed the quiet
beauties of her pretty retreat, which was, however,
shared with her husband's favourite, ' Mrs. Howard.'
' Leicester Fields ' was, nevertheless, not always such
a bower of bliss as Walpole has described it, from
hearsay. If the prince and ladies were on very pleasant
terms, the princess and the ladies were sometimes at
loggerheads, with as little regard for hienseance as if they
had been very vulgar people ; indeed, they often were
exceedingly vulgar people themselves.
It was with Lord Chesterfield that Caroline Wilhelmina
Dorothea was most frequently at very disgracefid issue.
Lord Chesterfield was one of the prince's court, and he
was possessed of an uncontrollable inclination to tin^n the
princess into ridicule. Of course she was made ac-
quainted with this propensity of the refined Chesterfield
by some amiable friend, who had the regard which
friends, with less judgment than what they call amiability,
generally have for one's failings.
Caroline, perhaps half afraid of the peer, whom she
held to be a more annoying joker than a genuine wit,
took a middle course by way of correcting Chesterfield.
It was not the course which a woman of dignity and
refinement would have adopted ; but it must be re-
membered that, at the period in question, the princess
was anxious to keep as many friends around her husband
as she could muster. She consequently told Lord
l6o LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
Chesterfield, lialt" in jest and half in earnest, that he had
better not }n-ovoke her, for though he had a wittier, he
had not so bitter a tongue as she had, and any outlay of
his Avit, at her cost, she was determined to pay, in her
way, with an exorbitant addition of interest upon the
debt he made her incur.
The noble lord had, among the other qualifications of
the fine gentleman of the period, an alacrity in lying.
He would gravely assure the princess that her royal
highness was in error ; that he could never presume to
mimic her ; and thereupon he would only watch for a
turn of her head to find an opportunity for repeating the
offence which he had protested could not possibly be laid
to his charge.
Caroline was correct in asserting that she had a bitter
tongue. It was under control, indeed ; but when she
gave it imrestricted freedom, its eloquence was not well
savoured. Indeed her mind was far less refined than has
been generally imagined. Many circumstances might be
cited in proof of this assertion ; l)ut perhaps none is
more satisfactory, or conclusive rather, than the fact that
she was the correspondent of the Duchess of Orleans,
whose gross epistles can be patiently read only by grossly
inclmed persons ; but which, nevertheless, tell so nmch
that is really worth knowing that students of history
read, blush, and are delighted.
The Prince of Wales, dissatisfied with his residences,
entered into negotiations for the purchase of Buckingham
House. That mansion was then occupied by the Dowager-
duchess of Buckingham, she whose mother was Catherine
Sedley, and whose father was James II. She was the
mad duchess, who always went into mourning and shut
up Buckingham House on the anniversary of the death of
he/ grandfather, Charles I. The duchess thus writes of
the negotiation, in a letter to Mrs. Howard: —
' If their royal highnesses will have everything stand
CAROLINE WJLHELMINA DOROrHEA. l6l
as it is, furniture and picture^, I will have 3,000/. -pev
annum. Both run hazard of being spoiled ; and the last,
to be sure, will be all to be new bought, whenever my
son is of age. The quantity the rooms take cannot be
well furnished under 10,000/. But if their highnesses
will permit all the pictures to be removed, and buy the
furniture as it will be valued by different people, the
house shall go at 2,000/. If the prince or princess pre-
fer much the buying outright, under 60,000/. it will not
be parted with as it now stands ; and all his Majesty's
revenue cannot purchase a place so fit for them, nor for
less a sum. The princess asked me at the drawing-room if
I would not sell my line house. I answered her, smiling,
that I was under no necessity to part with it ; yet, when
what I thought was the value of it should be offered,
perhaps my prudence might overcome my inclination.'
At the period when Caroline expressed some inclina-
tion to possess this residence, on the site of the old
mulberry garden, there w^as a mulberry garden at Chelsea,
the owner of which was a Mrs. Gale. In these gardens
some very rich and beautiful satin was made, from Eng-
lish silkworms, for the Princess of Wales, who took an
extraordinary interest in the success of ' the native worm.'
The experiments, however, patronised as they were by
Caroline, did not promise a realisation of sufficient profit
to warrant their being pursued any further.
The town residence of the prince and princess lacked,
of course, the real charms, the quieter pleasures, of the
lodge at Eichmond. The estate on which the latter was
built formed part of the forfeited property of the Jacobite
Duke of Ormond.
The prince and princess kept a court at Eichmond,
which must have been one of the most pleasant resorts
at which royalty has ever presided over fashion, ^vit, and
talent. At this court the young (John) Lord Herveywas
VOL. I. M
1 62 LIVES OF THE (2UEENS OF ENGLAND.
a frequent visitor, at a time wlieu his inotlier, Lady Bris-
tol, was in waiting on the princess, and his brother, Lord
Carr Hervey, held the post of groom of the bedchamber
to the prince. Of the personages at this ' young court,'
the right lionourable John Wilson Croker thus speaks : —
' At this period Pope and his literary friends Avere
in great favour at this " young court," of which, in addi-
tion to the handsome and clever princess herself, Mrs.
Howard, Mrs. Selwyn, Miss Howe, Miss Bellenden, and
Miss Lepell, with Lords Chesterfield, Bathurst, Scarbo-
rough, and Hervey, were the chief ornaments. Above
all, for beauty and wit, were Miss Bellenden and Miss
Lepell, who seem to have treated Pope, and been in re-
turn treated by him, with a familiarity that appears
strange in our more decorous days. These young ladies
probably considered him as no more than what Aaron
Hill described him —
Tuneful Alexis, on the Thames' fair side,
The ladies' plaything and the Muse's pride.'
Mr. Croker notices that Miss Lepell was called Mrs.
according to the fashion of the time. It was tlie custom
so to designate every single lady who was old enough to
be married.
Upon Eichmond Lodge Swift showered some of his
most pungent verses. He was tliere more tlian once
when it was the scene of tiie ' young court.' Of these
occasions he sang, after the princess had become Queen,
to the foUowino- tune : —
o
Here wont the Dean, when he's to seek,
To sponge a breakfast once a week,
To cry the bread was stale, and mutter
Complaints against tlie roj-al butter.
But now 1 fear it will be said.
No butter sticks upon his bread.
We soon shall iind him full of spleen,
For want of tattling to the Queen ;
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 163
Stunning her royal oars with talking ;
His rev'rence and her highness walking.
Whilst saucy Charlotte/ like a stroller,
Sits mounted on the garden roller.
A goodly sight to see her ride,
With ancient Mirmont at her side.
In velvet cap his head is warm,
His hat, for shame, beneath his arm.
Other poets were occasioually more audacious than Swift
in appropriating domestic incidents in the princess's family
for their subjects. Early in 1723 one of them thus ad-
dresses an expected member of that family : —
I'romis'd blessing of the year,
Fairest blossom of the Spring,
Thy fond mother's wish ; — appear !
Haste to hear the linnets sing !
Haste to breathe the vernal air,
Come to see the primrose blow j
Nature doth her lap prepare.
Nature thinks thy coming slow.
Glad the people, quickly smile
Darling native of our isle.
The gentle Princess Mary (subsequently the inihappy
Princess of Hesse) cannot be said to have kept the linnets
or the primroses waiting, the birth of this fourth daugh-
ter of the Prince and Princess of Wales having taken
place on the 22nd of February 1723.
During a large portion of the married life of George
Augustus and Caroline, each was supposed to be under
the influence of a woman, whose real influence was, how-
ever, overrated, and whose importance, if great, was
solely so because of the undue value attached to her
imaginary influence. Both those persons were of the
' young court,' at Leicester House and Eichmond Lodge.
The women in question were Mrs. Howard, the prince's
' favourite,' and Mrs. Clayton, bedchamber-woman, like
Mi^s. Howard, to Caroline. The first lady was the daugh-
^ De Roncy.
M 2
1 64 LIVES OF THE OUEENS OF ENGLAND.
tor of a Kiiiglit of tlie Batli, Sir IToiiry Ho])ait. Early
in life she married Mr. Ilowarrl, ' the younger brother of
more than one Earl of SufTolk, to whieh title he at la^^t
siiececded himself, and left a son by her, ^vho was the
last earl of that branch.' The young couple were but
slenderly dowered ; the lady had little, and her hu.<band
less. The court of Queen Anne did not hold out to them
any ])romise of improving their fortune, and accordingly
they looked around for a locality where they might not
only discern the promise, but hope for its realisation.
Their views rested upon Hanover and ' the rising sun '
there ; and thither, accordingly, they took their way ; and
there they found a welcome at the hands of the old Elec-
tress Sophia, with scanty civility at those of her grandson,
the Electoral Prince.
At this time, the fortunes of the young adventm'ers
were so low, and their aspirations so high, that they were
imable to give a dinner to the Hanoverian minister, till
Mrs. Howard found the means by cutting off a very
beautiful head of hair and selling it. If she did this in
order that she might not incur a debt, she deserves some
degree of praise, for a habit of prompt payment was not
a fashion of the time. The sacrifice probably sufficed ;
for it was the era of full-bottomed wigs, which cost twenty
or thirty guineas, and Mrs. Howard's hair, to be applied
to the purpose named, may have brought her a dozen
pounds, Avith which a very recherche dinner might have
been given, at the period, to even the most gastronomic
of Hanoverian ministers, and half-a-dozen secretaries of
legation to boot.
The fortune sought for was seized, although it came
but in a questionable shape. After the lapse of some
little time, the lady had made sufficient impression on the
hitherto cold Prince George Augustus to induce him, on
the accession of his father to the crown of England, to
CAROLINE IVILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 1 65
appoint her one of the bedcli amber-women to his wife,
Garohne, Princess of Wales.
When Mrs. Howard had won what was called the
' regard ' of the prince, she separated from her husband.
i/^, it is true, had little regard fo)\ and merited no re-
gard /n>/«, his wife ; but he was resolved that she should
attain not even a bad eminence unless he profited by it.
He was a wretched, heartless, drunken, gambling profli-
gate ; too coarse, even, for the coarse fine gentlemen of
the day. When he found himself deserted by his wife,
therefore, and discovered that she had established her
residence in the household of the prince, he went down
to the palace, raised an uproar in the courtyard, before
the guards and other persons present, and made vocife-
rous demands for the restoration to him of a wife whom
he really did not want. He was thrust out of the quad-
rangle without much ceremony, but he was not to be
silenced. He even appears to have interested the Arch-
bishop of Canterbury in the matter. The prelate affected
to look upon the princess as the protectress of her bed-
chamber-woman and the cause of the latter living sepa-
rate from her husband, to whom he recommended, by
letter, that she should be restored. Walpole says, fiuiher,
tliat the archbishop delivered an epistle from Mr. Howard
himself, addressed through the Princess Caroline to his
wife, and that the princess ' had the malicious pleasure
of delivering the letter to her rival.'
Mrs. Howard continued to reside under the roof of
this strangely-assorted household. There was no scandal
excited thereby at the period, and she was safe from con-
jugal importunity, whether at »St. James's Palace or
Leicester House. ' The case was altered,' says Walpole,
' when, on the arrival of summer, their royal highnesses
were to remove to Eichmond. Being only woman of the
bedchamber, etiquette did not allow Mrs. Howard the
1 66 LIVES OF THE (2UEENS OF ENGLAND.
entree of the coach with the princess. She apprehended
that Mr. Howard might seize her upon the road. To
bafHe such an attempt, her friends, John, Duke of Argyle,
and his brother, the Earl of Ishiy, called for her in the
coach of one of them, by eight o'clock in the morning of
the day by noon of which the prince and princess were
to remove, and lodged her safely in their house at Kicli-
mond.' It would appear, that after this period the
servant of Caroline and the favourite of George Augustus
ceased to be molested by her ]iusband; and, although
there be no proof of that gentleman having been ' bought
off,' he was of such character, tastes, and principles, that
he cannot be thought to have been of too nice an honour
to allow of his agreeing to terms of peace for pecuniary
' consideration.'
George thought his show of regard for Mrs. Howard
would stand for proof that he was not ' led ' by Ins wife.
The regard wore an out^vardly Platonic aspect, and daily
at the same hour the royal admirer resorted to the apart-
ment of the lady, where an hour or two was spent in
' small talk ' and conversation of a generally uninteresting
character.
It is very illustrative of (lie peculiar character of
George Augustus, that his periodical visits, every evening
at nine, were regulated Avith such dull ])unctuality ' that
he frequently walked aljout liis chamber for ten minutes,
with liis watch in his liaud, if the stated minute was not
arrived.'
Walpole also notices the more positive vexations Mrs.
Howard received when Caroline became Queen, Avhose
head she used to dress, until she acquired tlie title of
Countess of Suffolk. The Queen, it is said, delighted in
subjecthig her to such servile offices, though always apo-
logising to Uer (jood Howard. ' Often,' says Wa][)ole,
' her Ma,jesty liud more complete 1riuni])]i. It liappened
CAROLIXE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 1 67
more than once that the King, coming into the room
while the Queen was dressing, lias snatched off the hand-
kerchief, and turning rudely to Mrs. Howard, Jias cried,
* Because you have an ugly neck yourself, you hide the
Queen's.'
One other instance may be cited here of Caroline's
dislike of her good Howard. 'The Queen had an ob-
scure window at St. James's that looked into a dark
passage, Hghted only by a single lamp at night, which
looked upon Mrs. Howard's apartment. Lord Chester-
field, one Twelfth Night at court, had won so large a sum
of money that he thought it not prudent to carry it home
in the dark, and deposited it with the mistress. Thence
the Queen inferred great intimacy, and thenceforwards
Lord Chesterfield could obtain no favour from court ;
and, finding himself desperate, went into opposition.' But
this is anticipating events. Let us speak of the other bed-
chamber-woman of the Princess of Wales and subse-
quently of Queen Caroline, also a woman of considerable
note in the quiet and princely circle at Leicester House,
and the more brilliant reunions at St. James's and Ken-
sington. She was a woman of fairer reputation, of greater
ability, and of worse temper than Mrs. Howard. Her
maiden name was Dyves, her condition was of a humble
character, but her marriage with Sir Eobert Clayton, a
clerk in the Treasury, gave her importance and position,
and opportunity to improve both. Her husband, in ad-
dition to his Treasury clerkship, was one of the managers
of the Marlborough estates in the duke's absence, and
this brought his wife to the knowledge and patronage of
the duchess. The only favour ever asked by the latter
of the House of Hanover was a post for her friend Mrs.
Clayton, who soon afterwards was appointed one of the
bedchamber-women to Caroline, Princess of Wales.
Mrs. Clayton has l^een as diversely painted by Lord
i68
LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
Hervey and Horace Walpole as Cliesterfield liimself. It
is not to be disputed, however, that she was a Avoman of
many accompHshments ; of not so many as her flatterers
ascribe to her, but of more than were conceded to her by
her enemies. The same may be said of her alleged
vulues. Walpole describes her as a corrupt, pompous
simpleton, and Lord Hervey as a woman of great intelli-
gence and rather ill -regulated temper, the latter prevent-
ing her from concealing her thoughts, let them be what
they might. The noble lord intimates, rather than
asserts, that she was more resigned than desirous to live
at court, for the dirty company of which she was too
good, but whom she had the honesty to hate but not the
hypocrisy to tell them they were good. Hervey adds,
that she did good, for the mere luxury which the exercise
of the virtue had in itself. Others describe her as corrupt
as the meanest courtier that ever lived by bribes. She
would take jewels with both hands, and wear them with-
out shame, though they were the fees of offices performed
to serve others and enrich herself. The Duchess of Marl-
borough was ashamed of her protegee in this respect, if
there be truth in the stoiy of her grace being indignant
at seeing Mrs. Clayton wearing gems which she knew
were the price of services rendered by her. Lady Wortley
Montague apologises for her by the smart remark, that
people would not know ^vhere wine was sold if the
vendor did not hang out a bush.
Of another fact there is no dispute— tlie intense hatred
Avith which Mrs. Howard and Mrs. Clayton regarded each
other. The former was calm, cool, cutting, and contemp-
tuous, but^ never uiilady-like, always seff-possessed and
severe. The latter was hot, eager, and fur ever rendering
her position untenable for want of tem])er, and therefore
lack of argument to maintain it. Mrs. Clayton, doubtless,
possessed more influence with the Queen than her oppo-
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 1 69
nent with the King, but tlie influence has been vastly over-
rated. Caroline only allowed it in small matters, and
exercised in small ways. Mrs. Clayton was, in some
respects, only her authorised representative, or the me-
dium between her and the objects whom she deliglited to
relieve or to honour. The lady had some intluence in
bringing about introductions, in directing the Queen's
notice to works of merit, or to petitions for relief ; but on
subjects of much higher importance Caroline would not
submit to influence from the same quarter. On serious
questions she had a better judgment of her own than she
could be supplied with by tlie women of the bedchamber.
The great power held by Mrs. Clayton was, that with her
rested to decide whether the prayer of a petitioner should
or should not reach the eye of Caroline. No wonder,
then, that she was flattered, and that lier good offices were
asked for with sliowers of praise and compliment to her-
self, by favour-seekers of every conceivable class. Peers
of every degree, and their wives, bishops and poor curates,
philosophers well-to-do, and authors in shreds and patches ;
sages and sciolists ; inventors, speculators, and a mob of
' beggars ' whicli cannot be classed, sought to approach
Caroline through Mrs. Clayton's office, and humbly waited
Mrs. Clayton's leisure, while they profusely flattered her
in order to tempt her to be active in their behalf.
Caroline not only ruled her husband without his being
aware of it, but could laugh at him heartily, without hurt-
ing his feelings by allowing him to be conscious of it.
Hereafter mention may be made of the sensitiveness of
the court to satire ; but before the death of George I.,
it seems to have been enjoyed — at least by Caroline, Prin-
cess of Wales — more than it was subsequently by the
same illustrious lady when Queen of England. Dr.
Arbuthnot, at the period alluded to, had occasion to
write to Swift. The doctor had been pubhshing, by sub-
170 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
scriptiou, his ' Tables of Ancient Coins,' and was gaining
very few modern specimens by his work. Tlie dean, on
the other liand, -was tlien reaping a harvest of profit and
popularity by his ' Gulliver's Travels ' — that book of
which the puzzled Bishop of Ferns said, on coming to
the last page, that, all tilings considered, he did not
believe a word of it !
Arbuthnot, writing to Swift on the subject of the two
works, says (November 8, 1726) that his book had been
out about a month, but that he had not yet got his sub-
scribers' names. ' I will make over,' he says, ' all my
profits to 5^ou for the property of " Gulliver's Travels,"
Avhich, I believe, will have as great a run as John
Bunyan. Gulliver is a happy man, that, at his age, can
write such a book.' Arbuthnot subsequently relates, that
when he last saw the Princess of Wales ' she was reading
Gulliver, and was just come to the passage of the hobbling
prince, whicli she laughed at.' The laugh was at the cost
of her husband, whom Swift represented in the satire as
walkiniy with one hi"'h and low heel, in allusion to the
])rince's supposed vacillation between the Whigs and
Tories.
The princess, however, had more regard, at all times,
for sages than she had for satirists. It was at the request
of Caroline that Newton drew up an al)stract of a treatise
on Ancient Chronology, first published in France, and
subsequently in England. Her regard for Halley dates
from an earlier period than Newton's death or Caroline's
accession. Slie had, in 1721, pressed Halley to become
the tutor of her favourite son, tlie Duke of Cumberland ;
Ijut the great perfector of the theory of the moon's
motion was then too busy with liis syzygies to be
troubled with teaching the humanities to little princes.
It was for the same I'eason that Halley resigned his post
of secretary to the Koyal Society.
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 171
This question of the education of the children of the
Prince and Princess of Wales was one much discussed,
and not without bitterness, by the disputants on both
sides. In the same year that the Princess of Wales
desired to secure Halley as the instructor of William of
Cumberland (1721) George L made an earl of that
Thomas Parker who, from an attorney's office, had
steadily risen through the various grades of the law, had
been entrusted with high commissions, and finally became
Lord Chancellor. George I., on his accession, made him
Baron of Macclesiield, and in 1721 raised him to the rank
of earl. He paid for the honour by supporting the
Kino; ag;ainst the Prince and Princess of Wales. The
latter claimed an exclusive right of direction in the
education of their children. Lord Macclesfield declared
that, by law, they had no right at all to control the
education of their offspring. Neither prince nor princess
ever forgave him for this. They waited for the hour of
repaying it ; and the time soon came. The first ' Bruns-
wick Chancellor' became notorious for his malpractices —
selling places and trafficking with tlie funds of the suitors.
His enemies resolved to impeach him. This resolution
originated at Leicester House, and was carried out with
such effect that the chancellor was condemned to pay a
fine of ?)0,000/. George L, knowing that the son whom
lie liated Avas the cause of so grave, but just, a conse-
quence, promised to repay to the ex-chancellor the
amount of the fine which Lord Macclesfield had himself
paid, a few days after the sentence, by the mortgage of
a valuable estate. The King, however, was rather slow
in acquitting himself of his promise. He forwarded one
instalment of 1,000/., but he paid no more, death super-
vening and preventing the further performance of a
promise only made to annoy his son and his son's wife.
In one respect I-ord Macclesfield and the Princess of
172 LIVES OF THE QUEEXS OF ENGLAXD.
Wales resembled eacli otlier — in eiitertaiiiino- a curious
feeling of superstition. It Avill be seen, hereafter, how
certain Caroline felt that she should die on a Wednesday,
and for what reasons. So, like her, but with more
accuracy, the fallen Macclesfield pointed out the day for
his decease. In his disgrace he had devoted himself to
science and religion. He was, however, distracted by a
malady which was aggravated by grief, if not remorse.
Dr. Pearce, his constant friend, called on him one day
and found him very ill. Lord Macclesfield said : ' My
mother died of the same disorder on the eighth day, and
so shall I.' On the eighth day this pi'ophecy was fid-
filled ; and the Leicester House part}" were fully avenged.
The feelings of both prince and princess were for
ever in excess. Thus both appear to have entertained a
strono- sentiment of aversion acrainst their eldest child,
Frederick. Caroline did not brino; him with her to this
country when she herself first came over to take up her
residence here. Frederick was born at Hanover, on the
20tli of January 1707. He was early instructed in the
English language ; but he disliked study of every de-
scription and made but little progress in this particular
branch. As a child, he was remarkable for his spiteful-
ness and cunning. He was yet a youth Avhen he drank
like any German baron of old, j)layed as deeply as he
drank, and entered heart and soul into otlier vices, which
not only corrupted both, but his body also. His tutor
was scandalised by his conduct, and complained of it
grievously. Caroline was, at that time, given to find
excuses for conduct with which she did not care to be
so far troubled as to censiu'c it ; and she remarked that
tlie escapades complained of were mere page's tricks.
'Would to Heaven they were no more!' exclaimed
the worthy governor; 'but in truth they are tricks of
grooms and scouiKhe].^.' '.I'hc Fiince s})ared his friends
CAROLINE WILHELMIXA DOROTHEA. 1 73
as little as his foes, and his he;irt was as vicious as his
head was weak.
Caroline had little affection for this child, whom she
would have willino-ly defrauded of his birthriijlit. At
one time she appears to have been inclined to secin-e tlie
Electorate of Hanover for William, and to allow Frederick
to succeed to the English throne. At another time she
was as desirous, it is believed, of advancing William to
the crown of England and making over the Electorate to
Frederick. How far these intrigues were carried on is
hardly known, but that they existed is matter of notoriety.
The law presented a barrier which could not, however, be
broken down ; but, nevertheless, Tiord Chesterfield, in his
character of the princess, intimated that she was busy
with this project throughout her life.
Frederick was not permitted to come to England
during any period of the time that his parents were
Prince and Princess of Wales. An English title or two
may be said to have been flung to him across the water.
Thus, in 1717, he was called rather than created Duke of
Gloucester. The Garter was sent to him the following year.
In 1726 he became Duke of Edinburgh. He never occu-
pied a place in the hearts of either his father or mother.
It is but fair to the character of the Princess of Wales
to say that, severe as was the feeling entertained by
herself against Lord Macclesfield — a feeling shared in by
her consort — neither of them ever after entertained any ill
feeling against Philip Yorke, subsequently Lord Chancellor
Hardwicke, who defended his friend Lord Macclesfield,
with great feai'lessness, at the period of his celebrated
trial. Only once, in after life, did George II. visit Lord
Hardwicke with a severe rebuff. The learned lord was
avaricious, discouraging to those who sought to rise in
their profession, and caring only for the advancement of
his own relations. He was once seeking for a place for a
174 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
distant relation, when the husband of CaroHne exchiimed,
' You are always asking favours, and I observe that it is
invariably m behalf of some one of your family or kins-
men.' We shall hereafter find Caroline making fdlusions
to ' Judge Gripus ' as a character in a play, but it was a
name given to Lord Hardwicke, on account of his ' mean-
ness.' This feehng was shared by his wife. The
expensively embroidered velvet purse in which the great
seal was carried was renewed every year during Lord
Ilardwicke's time. Each year. Lady Hardwicke ordered
that the velvet should be of the length of one of her state
rooms at Wimpole. In course of time the prudent lady
obtained enough to tapestry the room with the legal
velvet, and to make curtains and hangings for a state bed
which stood in the apartment. Well might Pope have
said of these : —
Is yellow dirt the passion of tliy life ?
Look but ou Gripus and on Gripus' wife.
But this is again anticipating the events of history.
Let us go back to 1721, when Caroline and her husband
exercised a courage which caused great admiration in tiie
saloons of Leicester House and a doubtful sort of ap-
plause throughout the country. Lady Mary Wortley
Montague had just reported the successful results of in-
oculation for the small-pox, which she had witnessed at
Constantinople. Dr. Mead was ordered by the prince to
inoculate six criminals v\-ho had been condemned to
death, but whose lives were spared for this experiment.
It succeeded admirably, and the patients were more satis-
fied by the result of the experiment than any one besides.
In the year following, Caroline allowed Dr. Mead to in-
oculate her two daughters, and the doctor ultimately
became physician-in-ordinary to her husband.
The medical appointments made by Caroline and her
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 175
husband certainly had a pohtical motive. Thus, the
Princess of Wales persuaded her husband to name Freind
liis physician-in-ordinary just after the latter had been
liberated from the Tower, where he liad suffered incarce-
ration for daring to defend Atterbury in the House of
Commons when the bishop was accused of being guilty
of treason. Caroline ahvays had a high esteem for Freind,
independently of his political opinions, and one of her
first acts, on ceasing to be Princess of Wales, was to make
Freind physician to the Queen.
It is said by Swift that the Princess of Wales sent for
him to Leicester Fields no less than nine times before he
would obey the reiterated summons. When he did ap-
pear before Caroline, he roughly remarked that he un-
derstood she liked to see odd persons ; that she had lately
inspected a wild boy from Germany, and that now she
had the opportunity of seeing a wild parson from Ireland,
Swift declares that the court in Leicester Fields was very
anxious to settle him in England, but it may be doubted
whether the anxiety was very sincere. Swift's declaration
that he had no anxiety to be patronised by the Princess
of Wales was probably as little sincere. The patronage
sometimes exercised there was mercilessly sneered at by
Swift. Thus Caroline had expressed a desire to do
honour to Gay ; but when the post oflered was only that
of a gentleman usher to the little Princess Caroline, Swift
was bitterly satirical on the Princess of Wales supposing
that the poet Gay would be willing to act as a sort of
male nurse to a httle girl of tAvo years of age.
The Prince of Wales was occasionally as cavalierly
treated by the ladies as the princess by the men. One
of the maids of honour of Carohne, the well-known Miss
Bellenden, would boldly stand before him with her arms
folded, and when asked why she did so, would toss her
pretty head, and laughingly exclaim that she did so, not
I 76 LIVES OF THE (JUEE.XS OF EXGLAXD.
because she was cold, but tliat she cliose to stand with
lier arms folded. When her own niece became maid of
honour to Queen Caroline, and audacious Miss Bellenden
w'as a grave mamed lady, she instructively warned her
young relative not to be so imprudent a maid of honour
as her aunt had been before her.
But strange things were done by princes and prin-
cesses in those days, as well as by those who waited on
them. For instance, in 1725, it is reported by ]\Iiss
Dyves, maid of honour to the Princess Amelia, daughter
of the Princess of Wales, that ' the Prince, and everybody
but myself, went last Friday to Bartholomew Fair. It
was a fine day, so he went by water ; and I, being afraid,
did not go ; after the fair, they supped at the King's
Arms, and came home abcnit four o'clock in the morn-
ing.' An heir-apparent, and part of his family and con-
sort, going by water from Eichmond to ' Bartlemy Fair,'
supping at a tavern, staying out all night, and returning
home not long before honest men breakfasted, was not
calculated to make royalty respectable.
17/
CHAPTER TL
THE FIRST YEARS OP A REIGN.
Doatli of George tlie First — Adroitness of Sir Ilobert Walpole — Tiie first
royal reception — Unceremonious treatment of the late Kinp-'s will — The
coronation — Magnificent dress of Queen Caroline — Mrs. Oldtield, as
Anne Boleyn, in 'Henry VIII.' — The King's revenue and the Queen's
jrinture, the result of Walpole's exertions — His success — Management of
the King by Queen Caroline — Unseemly dialogue between Walpole and
Lord Townshend — Gay's ' Ueggars' Opera,' and satire on Walpole —
Origin of the opera— Its great success — Gay's cause espoused by the
Duchess of Queensberry — Iler smart reply to a royal message — The
tragedy of 'Frederick, Duke of Brunswick ' — The Q,ueen appointed Regent
— Prince Frederick becomes chief of the opposition — His silly reflections
on the King — Agitation about the repeal of the Corporation and Test
Acts — The Queen's ineftectual efforts to gain over Bishop Iloadly— Sir
Robert extricates himself — The Church made the scapegoat — Queen
Caroline earnest about trifles — Etiquette of the toilette — Fracas between
Mr. Howard and the Queen — Modest request of Mrs. Howard — Lord
Chesterfleld's description of her.
Sir Robert Walpole was sojourning ut Chelsea, and
thinking of nothing less than of the demise of a king,
when news was brought him, by a messenger from Lord
Townshend, at three o'clock in the afternoon of the 14th of
June 1727, that his late most sacred Majesty was then
lying dead in the Westphalian palace of his serene high-
ness the Bishop of Osnaburgh. Sir Robert immediately
hurried to Richmond, in order to be the lirst to do
homage to the new sovereigns, George and Caroline.
George accepted the homage with much complacency,
and on being asked by Sir Robert as to the person whom
the King would select to draw up the usual address to
VOL. I. N
lyS LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
the privy council, George II. mentioned tlie speaker of
the House of Commons, Sir Spencer Compton.
This was a civil way of telling Sir Eobert that his
services as prime-minister were no longer required. He
was not pleased at being supplanted, Init neither was he
wrathfully little-minded against his successor — a suc-
cessor so incompetent for his task that he was obliged to
have recourse to Sir Eobert to assist him in drawing up
the address above alluded to. Sir Eobert rendered the
assistance with much heartiness, but was not the less
determined, if possible, to retain his office, in spite of the
personal dislike of the King, and of that of the Queen,
whom he had offended, when she was Princess of Wales,
by speaking of her as ' that fat beast, the prince's wife.'
Sir Eobert could easily make poor Sir Spencer communi-
cative with regard to his future intentions. The latter
was a stiff, gossiping, soft-hearted creature, and might
very well have taken for his motto the words of Parmeno
in the play of Terence : — ' Plenus rimarum sum.' He
intimated that on first meeting parliament he should pro-
pose an allowance of G0,000/. per annum to be made to
the Queen. ' I will make it 40,000/. more,' said Sir
Eobert, subsequently, through a second party, to Queen
Caroline, ' if my office of minister be secured to me.'
Caroline was delighted at the idea, intimated that Sir
Eobert might be sure ' the fat beast ' had friendly feelings
towards him, and then hastening to the King, over whose
weaker intellect her more masculine mind held rule, ex-
plained to her royal husband that as Compton considered
Walpole the fittest man to be — what he had so long been
with efficiency — prime-minister, it would be a foolish act
to nominate Compton himself to the office. The King
acquiesced. Sir Spencer was made president of the coun-
cil, and Sir Eobert not only ])ersuaded parlianicnl, with-
out difficulty, to settle one hundred thousand a year on
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 1 79
the Queen, but lie also persuaded the august trustees of
the people's money to add the entire revenue of the civil
list, about one hundred and thirty thousand pounds a
year, to the annual sum of seven hundred thousand
pounds, which had been settled as proper revenue for a
king. Sir Robert had thus the wit to bribe King and
Queen, out of the funds of the people, and we cannot be
surprised that their Majesties looked upon him and his as
true allies. Indeed Caroline did not wait for the success
of the measure in order to show her confidence in Wal-
pole. Their Majesties had removed from Eichmond to
their temporary palace in Leicester Fields, on the very
evening of their receiving notice of their accession to the
crown ; and the next day all the nobility and gentry in
town crowded to kiss their hands. ' My mother,' says
Horace Walpole, ' among the rest, who. Sir Spencer
Compton's designation and not his evaporation being
known, could not make her way between the scornful
backs and elbows of her late devotees, nor could approach
nearer to the Queen than the third or fourth row ; but
no sooner was she descried by her Majesty than the Queen*
said aloud : " There I am sure I see a friend ! " The
torrent divided and shrank to either side, " and as I came
away," said my mother, " I might have walked over their
heads, had I pleased." '
George I. had drawn up a will which he coolly
thought his successor would respect. Perhaps he re-
membered that his son believed in ghosts and vampires,
and would fulfil a dead man's wall out of mere terror of
a dead man's visitation. But George Augustus had no
such fear, nor any such respect, as that noticed above.
At the first council held by George II., Dr. Wake,
Archbishop of Canterbury, in whose hands George I. had
deposited liis last will and testament, produced that pre-
cious instrument, placed it before the King, and composed
l8o LIVES OF THE QUEEXS OF EXGLAXD.
liiinself to hear the instnietioiis of the deceased parent
recited h\ lii.s heir. The new King, liowever, put the
paper in his pocket, walked out of the room, never
uttered a word more upon the subject, and general rumour
subsequently proclaimed that the royal will had been
dropped into the fire by the testator's son.
That testator, however, had been a destroyer of wills
himself. He had burnt that of the poor old Duke of
Zell, and he had treated in like manner the last will of
Sophia Dorothea. The latter document favoured both
his children more than he approved, and the King, who
could do no wrong, connuitted a felonious act, which for a
common criminal would have purchased a halter. Being
given to this sort of iniquity himself, he naturally thought
ill of the heir whom he looked upon as bound to respect
the will of his father. To bind him the more securely to
such observance, he left two duplicates of his will ; one
of which was deposited with the Duke of Wolfenbuttel,
the other witli another German prince, whose name has
not been revealed, and both were given up by the de-
'positaries, for fee and reward duly paid for the service.
The copies were destroyed in the same way as the origi-
nal. What instruction was set down in this document
has never been ascertained. Walpole speaks of a re-
ported legacy of forty thousand pounds to the King's
surviving mistress, the Duchess of Kendal, and of a sub-
sequent comjiromise made with the hu8l)and of the
duchess's ' niece ' and heiress, Lady Walsingham — a com-
promise which followed upon a threatened action at law.
Something similar is said to have taken place with tlie
King of Prussia, to whose wife, the daughter of George I.,
the latter monarch was reported to have bequeatlied a
considerable legacy.
However tliis may bt', the surpi'ise of the council and
tlie consternation of the primate were excessive. Tiie
CAROLINE WILHELMLXA DOROTHEA. t8i
latter dignitary was tlie last man, however, who could
with propriety have blamed a fellow-man for acting con-
trary to what was expected of him. He himself had
been the warmest advocate of religious toleration, until
he reached the primacy and had an opportunity for the
exercise of a little harshness towards dissenters. The
latter were as nuich astonished at tlieir ex-advocate
as the latter was astounded by the act of the King.
We will not furtlier allude to the coronation of George
and Caroline than by saying that, on tlie occasion in ques-
tion, these Sovereigns displayed a gorgeousness of taste
of a somewhat barbarous qualit}^ Tlie coronation was
the most splendid which had been seen for years, (jeorge,
despite his low stature and fair hair, which heightened
the weakness of his expression at this period, was said to
be on this occasion 'every inch a king.' He enjoyed
the splendour of the scene and of himself, and thought
it cheaply purchased at the cost of much fotigue.
Caroline was not inferior to lier lord. It is true that
of crown jewels she had none, save a pearl necklace, tlie
solitary spoil left of all the gems, ' rich and rare,' which
had belonged to Queen Anne, and which had, for the
most part, been distributed by the late King among his
favourites of every degree. Carohne wore on the oc-
casion of her crowning, not only tlie pearl necklace of
Queen Anne, but ' she had on her head and shoulders
all the pearls and necklaces which slie could borrow from
the ladies of quality at one end of the town, and on her
petticoat all the diamonds she could hire of the Jews and
jewellers at the other ; so,' adds Lord Hervey, from
whom this detail is taken, ' the appearance and the truth
of her finery was a mixture of magnificence and meanness,
not unlike the eclat of royalty in many other particulars,
when it comes to be nicely examined and its sources
traced to what money hires and flattery lends.'
1 82 UVE.S OF THE QUEEa\S OF ENGLAND.
The Queen dressed for the grand ceremony in a
private room at Westminsler. Early in the morning
she put on ' an undress ' at St. James's, of which we are
told that ' everything was new.' She was carried across
St. James's Park privately in a chair, bearing no distinc-
tive mark upon it, and preceded, at a short distance, by
the Lord Chancellor and Mrs. Howard, both of whom
were in ' hack sedans.' She was dressed by that lady.
Mrs. Herbert, another bed-chamber woman, Avould fain
have shared in the honour, but as she Avas herself in full
dress for the ceremony, she was pronounced incapable of
attiriua; her who was to be the heroine of it. At the
conclusion of the august affair tlie Queen unrobed in an
adjacent apartment, and, as in the morning, was smuggled
back to St. James's in a private chair.
Magnificent as Carohne was in borrowed finery at her
coronation, she was excelled in point of show by Mrs.
Oldfield, on the stage at Drury Lane. The theatre was
closed on the night of the real event — the government
had no idea then of dividing a multitude; but the manage-
ment expended a thousand pounds in getting up the
pageant of the crowning of Anne Boleyn, at the close of
' Henry VIH.' In this piece. Booth made Henry the
])rincipal character, and Gibber's Wolsey sank to a
second-rate part. The pageant, however, was so attrac-
tive, that it was often played, detached from the piece,
at the conclusion of a comedy or any other play.
Caroline went more than once with her royal consort to
witness this representation, an honoiu' which was refused
to the more vulgar show, which had but indifferent
success, at Lincoln's-Lm-Fields.
The King's revenue, as settled upon him by the Whig
parliament, Avas larger than any of our Kings had before
enjoyed. Caroline's jointure, 100,000/. a year, with
Somerset House and Richmond Lodge, was double that
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 1 83
whicli had been granted previously to any Queen. This
success had been so notoriously the result of Walpole's
exertions, that the husband of Caroline, who dealt in
very strong terms, began to look complacently on the
' rogue and rascal,' thought his brother Horace bearable,
in spite of his being, as George used to call him, ' scoun-
drel,' ' fool,' -and ' dirty buffoon,' and he even felt less
averse than usual to the two secretaries of state of
Walpole's administration, the Duke of Newcastle, the
' impertinent fool,' wdiom he had threatened at the
christening of William, Duke of Cumberland, and Lord
Townshend. whom he was wont to desisiinate as a ' choleric
blockhead.' The issue of the affair was, that of Walpole's
cabinet no one went out but the minister's son-in-law.
Lord Malpas, roughly ejected from the Mastership of the
Eobes, and ' Stinking Yonge,' as the King used elegantly
to designate Sir William, who was turned out of the
Commission of Treasury, and whose sole little failings
were, that he was ' pitiful, corrupt, contemptible, and a
great liar,' though, as Lord Hervey says, ' rather a mean
than a vicious one,' which does not seem to mend the
matter, and which is a distinction without a difference.
After all, Sir William only dived to come up fresh again.
And Lord Malpas performed the same feat.
Henceforth, it was understood by every lady, says
Lord Hervey, ' that Sii' Eobert was the Queen's minister ;
that whoever he favoured she distinguished, and whoever
she distinguished the King employed.' The Queen ruled,
without seeming to rule. She was mistress by power of
suggestion. A word from her in public, addressed to
the King, generally earned for her a rebuke. Her con-
sort so pertinaciously declared that he was independent,
and that she never meddled with public business of any
kind, that every one, even the early dupes of the asser-
tion, ceased at last to put any fjxith in it. Caroline ' not
1 84 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAXD.
only meddled with business, but direr-tcd everything
Avhich came under that name, either at home or aljroad.'
It is too much, perhaps, to say that her power was un-
rivalled and unbounded, but it was doubtless great, and
purchased at great cost. That she could induce her
husband to employ a man whom he had not yet learned
to like was in itself no small proof of hei' power, con-
sidering the peculiarly obstinate disposition of the
monarch.
Her recommendation of Walpole was not based, it is
believed, upon any very exalted motives. Walpole him-
self, in his official connections with the Sovereign, was
certainly likel}' to take every advantage of the oppor-
tunity to create favourable convictions of his ability.
Caroline, in praising his ability to the King, suggested
that Sir Robert was rich enough to be honest, and had
so little private business of his own that he had all the
more leisure to devote to that of the King. ' Xew leeches
would be not the less hungry ; ' and with this very indif-
ferent sort of testimony to her favourite's worth, Caroline
secured a servant for the King and a minister for herself.
The tact of the Queen was so admirable that the
husband, who followed her counsel in all things, never
even himself suspected but that he Avas leading her.
This was the very triumph of the Queen's art, and the
crowning proof of the simplicity and silliness of the King.
It is said that he sneered at Charles I. for beini? efoverned
by his wife ; at Charles II. for being governed by his
mistresses ; at James led by priests ; at William duped
by men ; at Queen Anne deceived by her favourites ; and
at his father, who allowed himself to be ruled by any
one who could approach him. And he finished his
catalogue of scorn by i)roudly asking, ' Who governs
now?' The courtiers probably smiled behind their
jaunty hats. The wits, and some of them were courtiers
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 1 85
too, answered the query more roughly, and they re-
marked, in rugged rhyme and bad grammar —
You may strut, dapper George, but 'twill all be iu vain ;
"VVe know 'tis Queen Caroline, not you that reign —
You govern no more than Don Philip of Spain.
Then if you would have us fall down and adore you,
Ijocli up your fat spouse, as your dad did before you.
The two were otherwise described by other poetasters,
as —
So strutting a king and so prating a queen.
It is a foct, at which we need not be surprised, that
the most cutting satires against the King, as led by his
wife, were from the pens of female writers — or said to
be so. And this is likely enough ; for in no quarter is
there so much contempt for a man who leans upon,
rather than supports, his wife. Tlie court certainly
offered good opportunity for the satirists to make merry
with. At the court of Caroline, it must be confessed,
there was not much female delicacy, and still less manly
dignity — even in the presence of the Queen herself.
Thus Ave hear, for instance, of Caroline, one evening, at
Windsor, asking Sir Eobert Walpole and Lord Townshend
where they had dined that day ? My lord replied that
he had dined with Lord and Lady Trevor, an aged
couple, and the lady remarkable for her more than
ordinary plainness. Whereupon Sir Eobert, with con-
siderable latitude of expression, intimated, jokinglj^, that
his friend was paying political court to the lord, in order
to veil a court of another kind addressed to the lady.
Lord Townshend, not understanding I'aillery on such a
topic, grew angry, and in defending himself against the
charge of seducing old Lady Trevor, was not content
with employing phrases of honest indignation alone, but
used illustrations that no ' lord ' woidd ever think of
1 86 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAXD.
using before a lady. Caroline grew uneasy, not at the
growing indelicacy of phrase, but at the angry feelings
of the Peachum and Lockit of the court ; and ' to prevent
Lord Townshend's replying, or the thing being pushed
any further, only laughed, and began immediately to
talk on some other subject.'^
The mention of the heroes in Gay's opera serv(;s to
remind me that, in 1729, the influence of the Queen was
auain exerted to lead the Kino; to do what he had not
himself dreamed of doing.
Sir Eobert Walpole must ha\^e been more ' thin-
skinned' than he is usually beheved to have been, if he
could really have felt wounded, as it would appear was
the case, by the alleged satire of the ' Beggars' Opera.'
The public would seem to have been the authors of such
satire rather than Gay, for they made application of
many passages, to which the writer of them probably
attached no personal meaning.
The origin of the piece was certainly not political. It
was a mere Newgate pastoral put into an operatic form,
and intended to ridicule, what it succeeded in overthrow-
ing for a season, the newly introduced Italian Opera.
The piece had been refused by Gibber, and was accepted
by liich, who brought it out at Lincoln's-Inn-Fields, on
the 29tli of January 1728, with such success, that it was
said of it, that it made Gay rich, and Eicli gay. Walker
was the Macheath, and Miss Fenton, afterwards Duchess
of Bolton, the Polly — a character in which she was not
approached by either of her three inmiediate successors,
Miss Warren, Miss Cantrell, or sweet Kitty Clive.
Johnson says of the piece that it was plainly written
only to divert — without any moral purpose, and there-
fore not likely to do good. This is the truth, no doubt;
' Lord Ilcrvey's ' Memoirs, &c., of the Court of Queen Caroline.'
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 1 87
and if Gay put in a few strong passages just previous to
representation, it was the public application which gave
them double force. Perhaps the application would have
been stronger if Quin had originally played, as was
intended, the part of Macheath. To step from Macbeth
to the highwayman might have had a j)olitical signification
given to it ; and indeed Quin did play, and sing, the
captain one night for his benefit — -just as another great
tragedian, Young, did, within our own recollection.
However, never had piece such success. It was played
at every theatre in the kingdom, and every audience was
as keenly alive for passages which could be applied
against the court and government as they were for mere
ridicule against the Italian Opera.
Caroline herself Avas probably not opposed to the
morale of the piece. Her own chairmen were suspected
of being in league with highwaymen, and probably were ;
but on their being; arrested and dismissed from her
service by the master of her household, who suspected
their guilt, she was indignant at the liberty taken and
insisted on their being restored. She had no objection
to be safely carried by suspected confederates of high-
waymen.
The poverty of ' Polly ' could not render it exempt
from being made the scape-goat for the ' Beggars' Opera,'
in which Walpole, from whom Gay could not obtain a
place, was said to be ' shown-up,' night after night, as a
thief and the friend of thieves. The ' Beggars' Opera ' had
a run before its satire was felt by him against whom it
was chiefly directed. * Polly ' is very stupid and not
satirical, but it was a favourite with the author. Tlie
latter, therefore, w^as especially annoyed at receiving an
injunction from the lord chamberlain's office, obtained at
the request of Sir Eobert, whereby the representation of
' Polly ' was forbidden in every theatre. The poet deter-
1 88 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
mined to shame his enemies by printing the piece witli a
smart political siq)plement annexed.
Gay was tlie 'spoiled child' of the Duke and Duchess
of Queensberry. They espoused his cause ; and the
duchess was especially active, urgent, and successful in
procuring subscriptions — compelling them, by gentle
violence, even from the most reluctant. This zeal for
the vexed poet went so far that the duchess solicited
subscriptions even in the Queen's apartment and in the
royal drawing-room. There was something pleasant in
making even the courtiers subscribe towards the circu-
lating of a ]Mece which royalty, througli its official, had
prohibited from being acted. The zealous duchess was
thus busy with three or four gentlemen, in one corner of
the room, when the King came upon them and enquired
the nature of her business. ' It is a matter of humanity
and charity,' said her grace, ' and I do not despair but
that your Majesty will contribute to it.' The Monarch
disappointed Gay's patroness in this respect, but he
exhibited no symptom whatever of displeasure, and left
her to her levying occupation Subsequently, however,
in the Queen's apartment, the subject was talked over
between the royal pair, and not till then did George per-
ceive that the conduct of the duchess was so impertinent
that it was necessary to forbid her appearing again, at
least for the present, at court.
The King's vice-chamberlain, Mr. Stanhoi)e, was
despatched with a verbal message to this effect. The
manner and the matter equally enraged Gay's patroness,
and she delivered a note of acknowledgment to the vice-
chamberlain, in wliicli she stated that she was both sur-
])rised and gratified at tlie royal and agreeable command
to stay away from court, seeing tliat she had never gone
there but for her own diversion, and also from a desire of
showing some civility to the King and Queen ! The lively
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 1 89
lady further intiiiiated, tliat perhaps it was as well that
they who dared to speak, or even think, truth, should be
kept away from a court where it was luipalatable ; although
she had thought that in supporting truth and innocence
in the palace, she was paying the very higliest compliment
possible to both their Majesties.
When the note was completed, the writer gave it to
Mr. Stanhope to read. The stiff vice-chamberlain felt
rather shocked at the tone, and politely advised the duchess
to think better of the matter, and write another note. Her
grace consented, but the second edition was so more highly
spiced, and so more pungent than the first, that the officer
preferred taking the latter, which he must have placed
before King and Queen with a sort of decent horror,
appropriate to a functionary of his polite vocation. The
duchess lost the royal favour, and the duke, her husband,
lost his posts.
After all, it seems singular, that while so stupid a piece
as ' Polly ' was prohibited, the representation of the ' Beggars'
Opera ' still went on. The alleged offence was thus seem-
ingly permitted, while visitation was made on an unoffend-
ing piece ; and subscriptions for the printing of that piece
were asked for, as we have seen, by the Duchess of
Queensberry, in the very apartments of the Sovereign, who
is said to have been most offended at the poet's alleged
presumption.
Other poets and the players advanced in the good will
of Caroline and her house by producing pieces complimen-
tary to the Brunswick family. Thus Eich, who had
offended the royal family by getting up the 'Beggars' Opera,'
in January 1728, produced Mrs. Haywood's tragedy of
'Frederick, Duke of Brunswick-Lunenberg,' in March 1729.
Tlie authoress dedicated her play to Frederick, Prince of
Wales, and her object in writing it was to represent one
of the ancestors of his royal highness as raised to the
190 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
imperial throne in consequence of his virtues. It may be
11 question "whether Caroline, or her husband, or son, could
approve of a subject which exliibited the Brunswick
monarch falling inider the dagger of an assassin. However
this may be, the public was indifferent to the piece and its
object ; and, after being represented three times, it disap-
peared for ever and left the stage to be again occupied
by the 'Beggars' Opera:' Peachum — Walpole, Lockit —
Townshend, and Mat o' the Mint, type of easy financiers,
Avho gaily bid the public ' stand and deliver ! '
On the first occasion on w^hich George I. left England
to visit Hanover, he appointed the Prince of Wales regent
of the kingdom during his absence. The ]:)rince, in spite
of his limited powers — he was unable to act on the
smallest point without the sanction of ministers — con-
trived to gain considerable and well-deserved popularity.
George never again allowed him to hold the same honour-
able ofiice ; and the son and father hated each other
ever after. In the May of this year, that son, now^ King,
quitted England in order to visit the Electorate, but he did
not appoint Frederick, Prince of Wales, as regent during his
absence. He delegated that ofiice to the Queen, and most
probably by the Queen's advice. Frederick had not been
long in London before the opposition party made him, if
not their chief, at least their rallying point. The prince
hated his father heartily and openh^, and he had as little
regard for his mother. When application was made to
parliament to pay some alleged deficiencies in the ci\il list,
Frederick was particularly severe on the extravagance of
his sire and the method adopted to remedy it. He talked
loudly of what he would have done in a similar extremity,
or rather of how he would never have allowed himself to
fall into so extreme a difficultj^. He was doul^l}^ in the
wrong ; ' in the first place, for saying what he ought only
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. IQI
to have thought ; and, in the next, for not tliinking what
he ought not to have said.' It was not hkely, even if the
King had been so disposed, that tlie Queen would have
consented to an arrangement whicli would have materially
diminished her own consequence. She was accordingly
invested with the office of regent ; and she performed its
duties with a gi'ace and an efficiency which caused universal
congratulation that the post had not been confided to other,
and necessarily weaker, hands. She had Sir Eobert Wal-
pole at her side to aid her with his counsel ; and the
presence of the baronet's enemy. Lord Townshend, with
the King had no efiect in damaging the power effectively
administered by Caroline and her great minister.
It was not merely during the absence of the King in
Hanover that Caroline may be said to have ruled in
England. The year 1730 affords us an illustration on this
point.
The dissenters, who had originally consented to the
Test and Corporation Acts, upon a most unselfish ground
— for they sacrificed their own interest in order that the
Eomanists might be prevented from being admitted to
places of power and trust — now demanded the repeal of
those Acts. The request perplexed the crown and ministr}^
especially when an election was pending. To promise the
dissenters (and it was more especially the Presbyterians
who moved in this matter) relief would be to deprive the
crown of the votes of chiu'chmen ; and to reject the peti-
tion would be to set every dissenter against the government
and its candidates. Sir Eobert Walpole, in his perplexity,
looked around for a good genius to rescue him from the
dilemma in which he was placed. He paused, on consi
dering Hoadly, Bishop of Salisbury. The bishop was the
very deus ex machind most needed, but he had been
shabbily treated on matters of preferment ; and Walpole,
192 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
who liad face for most tilings, had not the foce to ask help
from a man Avhom he had ill-treated. The Queen stepped
in and levelled the difficulty.
Caroline sent for Hoadly to come to her at Kensington.
She received the prelate with atHibility, and overwhelmed
him with flattery, compliments on his abihty, and grateful
expressions touching his zeal and the value of his services
in the King's cause. She had now, she said, a further
service to ask at his hands ; and, of course, it was one
which demanded of him no sacrifice of opinion or con-
sistency : the Queen would have been the last person to
ask such a thing of the reverend prelate ! The service was
this. The dissenters required tlie repeal of the Test ami
Corporation Acts, The government did not dispute their
right to have such a concession made to them, but it did
feel that the moment was inconvenient ; and, therefore,
Bishop Hoadly, for whom the whole body of dissenters
entertained the most profound i-espect, was solicited to
make this opinion known to them, and to induce them to
defer their petition to a more favourable opportunity.
The Queen supported her request by such close and
cogent arguments, flattered the bishop so adroitly, and
drew such a picture of the possibly deplorable results of
an attempt to force the repeal of the Acts alluded to at the
present moment, that Iloadly may be excused if he began
to think that the stability of the House of Hanover
depended on the course he should take in this conjuncture.
He was not, however, to be cajoled out of his opinions or
his independence ; he })ronounced the restrictive Acts
unreasonable politically, and })rofane theologically. He
added, that, as a friend to religious and civil liberty, he
would vote for the repeal whenever and by whomsoever
])roposed. He should stultify himself if he did otherwise.
All that was in his ' little power,' consistent with his honour
and reputation, he would, nevertheless, willingly do. If
CAROLINE WILHELMJNA DOROTHEA. 1 93
be could be clearly convinced that the present moment
was unpropitions for pressing the demand, and perilous to
the stability of the government, he would not fail to urge
upon the dissenters to postpone presenting their petition
until the coming of a more favourable opportunity.
The out-of-door world no sooner heard of this interview
between the Queen and the prelate, tlian a report arose
that her Majesty had succeeded in convincing the right
reverend father that the claims of the dissenters were
unreasonable, and that the bishop, as a consequence of
such conviction, would henceforth oppose them resolutely.
Hoadly became alarmed, for such a report damaged all
parties. He was very anxious to maintain a character
for consistency, and at the same time not to lose his little
remnant of interest at com't. He tried in vain to get a
promise from Sir Eobert, that, if the dissenters would defer
preferring their claim until the meeting of a new parlia-
ment, it should then meet with the government support.
Sir Eobert was too wary to make such a promise, although
he hinted his conviction of the reasonableness of the claim,
and that it would be supported when so preferred. But
the bishop, in his turn, was too cautious to allow himself
to be caught by so flimsy an encouragement ; and he was ad-
mitted to several subsequent consultations with the Queen ;
but, clever as she was, she could not move the bishop.
Hoadly was resolved that the dissenters should know,
ihat if he thought they might with propriety defer their
petition, he would uphold its prayer whenever presented.
In the mean time, Sir Eobert extricated himself and
the government cleverly. Caroline doubtless enjoyed this
exercise of his ability as well as its results. The dissenters,
organising an agitation, had established a central committee
in London, all the members of which were bound to Sir
Eobert ; ' all monied men, and scriveners, and chosen by
his contrivance. They spoke only to be prompted, and
VOL. I. o
194 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
acted only as he guided.' ^ Tliis committee liad a solemnly
farcical meeting with the administration, to hold a consul-
tation in the matter. Sir Robert and the speakers confined
themselves to the unseasonableness, but commended the
reasonableness, of the petition. ' My lord president looked
wise, was dull, took snuff, and said nothing. Lord Har-
rington (the Mr. Stanhope who had waited on the Duchess
of Queensberry) took the same silent, passive part. Tlie
Lord-Chancellor (King) and the Duke of Newcastle had
done better had they followed that example too ; but
both spoke very plentifully, and were both equally unintel-
ligible ; the one (King) from having lost his understanding,
and the other from never having had any.' ^
The committee, after this interview, came to the resolu-
tion, that if a petition were presented to parliament now
in favour of the repeal of the Test and Corporation Acts,
' there was no prospect of success.' This resolution saved
the administration from the storm threatened by the Pres-
byterian party. That party considered itself betrayed by
its own delegates, the Queen and Sir Robert were well
satisfied with the result, and the bishop was looked upon
by the dissenters as having supported their cause too little,
and by the Queen's cabinet as having supported it too much.
Li this case it may, perhaps, be fairly asserted that the
Queen and the minister, while they punished the dissenters,
caused the blame to fall upon the church. Their chief
argument was, that the opposition of the clergy would be
a soiu-ce of the greatest embarrassment to the administra-
tion. It had long been the fashion to make the church
suffer, at least in rejiutation, on every occasion when
opportunity offered, and without any thought as to whether
the establishment deserved it or not. It was in politics
precisely as it was in Sir John Vanbrugh's comedy of the
'Provoked Wife.' It will be rcm('ml)ered tliat, in that
' Lord Ilervey. ^ Ibid.
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 1 95
dramatic mirror, which represeots nature as objects are
seen reliected in Hawed glass, when the tailor enters wuth
a bundle, the elegant Lord Rake exclaims, ' Let me see
what's in that bundle ! ' ' An't please you,' says the tailor,
'it is the doctor of the parisli's gown.' 'The doctor's
gown ! ' cries my lord ; and then, tui'ning to Sir John Brute^
he exultingly enquires, or rt^quires, ' ITark you, knight ;
you won't stick at abusing the clergy, will j^ou ? ' ' No ! '
shouts Brute., ' I'm drunk, and I'll abuse anything ! ' ' Then,'
says Lord Bake., ' you shall wear this gown whilst you
charge the watch ; that though the blows fall upon you,
the scandal may light upon the church ! ' 'A generous
design, by all the Gods ! ' is the ecstatic consent of the
Pantheistic Brute — and it is one to which Amen! has been
cried by many of the Brute family since first it was uttered
by their illustrious predecessor.
Meanwhile, Caroline could be as earnest and interested
upon trifles as she was upon questions of political import-
ance. She loved both to plague and to talk about Mrs.
Howard.
Tliat the Queen was not more courteous to this lady
than their respective positions demanded there is abun-
dant evidence. In a very early period of the reign Mrs.
Howard was required, as bedchamber- woman, to present
a basin for the Queen to wash her hands in, and to per-
form the service kneeling. The etiquette was, for the
basin and ewer to be set on the Queen's table by a page
of the back stairs : the office of the bedchamber-woman
was then to take both, pour out the water, set it before
the Queen, and remain kneeling while her Majesty
washed, of which refreshing ceremony the kneeling at-
tendant was the only one who dared be the ocular
witness.
This service of genuflexion remained in courtly fashion
till the death of Queen Charlotte. In the mean time,
ig6 LIl'ES OF THE QUEEXS OF ENGLAND.,
Mrs. Howard was by no means disposed to render it to
Queen Caroline. The scene whicli ensued was highly
amusino'. On the service being demanded, said Caroline
to Lord Hervey, ' Mrs. Howard proceeded to tell me,
with her little fierce eyes, and cheeks as red as your
coat, that, positively, she would not do it ; to which I
made her no answer then iu anger, but calmly, as I
would have said to a naughty child : — " Yes, my dear
Howard, I am sure you will. I know you will. Go, go ;
fie for shame ! Go, my good Howard ; we will talk of
this another time." Mrs. Howard did come round ; and I
told her,' said Caroline, ' I knew we should be good
friends again ; but could not help adding, in a little more
serious voice, that I owned, of all my servants, I had
least expected, as 1 had least deserved it, such treatment
from her ; when she knew I had held her up at a time
when it was in my power, if I had pleased, any hour of
the day, to let her drop through my fingers, thus .'
Caroline's own account of the fracas between Mrs.
Howard and her husband is too characteristic to be
passed over. The curious in such matters will find it in
full detail in ' Lord Hervey 's Memoirs.' Li this place it
will suffice to say, that, according to Lord Hervey, Mr.
Howard had a personal interview with the Queen.
Caroline described the circumstances of it with great
gra])hic power. At this interview he had said that he
would take his wife out of her Majesty's coach if he met
her in it. Caroline told him to ' Do it, if he dare ;
though,' she added, ' I was horribly afraid of him (for we
were tete a tete) all the time I was thus playing the bully.
What added to my fear on this occasion,' said the Queen,
' was, that as I knew him to be so brutal, as well as a
little mad, and seldom quite sober, so that T did not
think it impossible but that lie might throw me out of
^vindow (for it was in this very room our interview was.
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 1 97
and tliat sash then open, as it is now) ; but as soon as I
got near the door, and thought myself safe from beino-
thrown out of the window, I resumed m)'- grand tone of
Queen, and said I would be glad to see who would dare
to open my coach-door and take out one of my servants ;
knowing all the time that he might do so if he would,
and that he could have his wife and I the affront. Then
I told him that my resolution was positively, neither to
force his wife to go to him if she had no mind to it, nor
to keep her if she had. He then said he would complain
to the King ; upon which I again assumed my high tone,
and said the King had nothing to do with my servants ;
and, for that reason, he might save himself the trouble,
as I was sure the King would give him no answer but
that it was none of his business to concern himself with
my family ; and after a good deal more conversation of
this sort (I standing close to the door all the while to give
me courage), Mr. Howard and I bade one another good
morning., and he withdrew.'
Caroline proceeded to call Lord Trevor * an old fool '
for coming to her with thanks from Mrs. Howard, and
suggestions that the Queen should give 1,200/. a-year to
the husband for the consent of the latter to his wife's
being retained in the Queen's household. Caroline re-
plied to this suggestion with as high a tone as she could
have used when addressing herself to Mr. Howard ; but
with a coarseness of spirit and sentiment which hardly
became a queen, although they do not appear to have
been considered unbecoming in a queen at that time. ' I
thought,' said Caroline, ' I had done full enough, and
that it was a little too much, not only to keep the King's
'''' guenipes'" (trollops) under my roof, but to pay them
too. I pleaded poverty to my good Lord Trevor, and
said I would do anything to keep so good a servant as
Mrs. Howard about me ; but that for the 1,200/. a-year,
198 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
I really could not afford it.' The King used to make
presents to the Queen of fine Hanoverian horses, not that
alie might be gratified, but that he might, when he wanted
them, have horses maintained out of her purse. So he
gave her a bedchamber- woman in Mrs. Howard ; but
Caroline would not have her on the same terms as the
horses, and the 1,200/. a-year were probably paid— not by
the King, after all, but by the people.
Lord Chesterfield describes the figure of Mrs. Howard
as being above the middle size and well-shaped, with a
face more pleasing than beautiful.^ She was remarkable
for the extreme fairness and fineness of her hair. ' Her
arms were square and lean, that is, ugly. Her coun-
tenance was an undecided one, and announced neither
good nor ill nature, neither sense nor the want of it,
neither vivacity nor dulness.' It is difficult to under-
stand how such a face could be ' pleasing ; ' and the
following is the characteristic of a common-place person.
' She had good natural sense, not without art, but in her
conversation dwelt tediously upon details and minuties'
Of the man whom she had, when very young, hastily
married for love, and heartily hated at leisure, Chester-
field says, 'he was sour, dull, and sullen.' The same
writer sets it down as equally unaccountable that the
lady should have loved su(th a man, or that the man
should ever have loved anybody. The noble lord is also
of opinion tliat only a Platonic friendship reigned between
the King and the favourite ; and that it was as innocent
as that which was said to have existed between himself
and Miss Bellenden.
Very early during the intercourse, ' the busy and
speculative ])oliti(fians of tlie antechambers, who knew
everything, but knew eveiylhing wrong,' imagined that
the lady's inlhience must be all-])owerful, seeing that her
^ Chesterfield's ' Life and Letters ; edited by Lord Mahon.'
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 199
admirer paid to her the homage of devoting to her the
best hours of his day. She did not reject soh citations,
we are told, because she was unwilhng to have it supposed
that she was without power. She neither rejected sohci-
tations nor bound herself by promises, but hinted at
difficulties ; and, in short, as Chesterfield well expresses
it, she used ' all that trite cant of those who with power
will not, and of those who without power cannot, grant
the requested favours.' So far from being able to make
peers, she was not even successful in a well-meant attempt
to procure a place of 200/. a-year • for John Gay, a very
poor and honest man, and no bad poet, only because he
was a poet, which the King considered as a mechanic'
Mrs. Howard had little influence, either in the house of
the Prince, or, when she became Countess of Suffolk, in
that of the King. Carohne, we are told, ' had taken good
care that Lady Suffolk's apartment should not lead to
power and favour ; and from time to time made her feel
her inferiority by hindering the King from going to her
room for three or four days, representing it as the seat of
a political faction.'
200 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
CHAPTER III.
THE MARRIACJE OF THE PRINCP^SS ANNE.
Molent oppositi(iii to th(; King by Prince Frederick — Itcadinj^s at Windsor
Castle — The Queen's patronage of Stephen Duck — His melancholy end
— Glance at passing events — Precipitate flight of Dr. Nichols — Princess
Anne's determinacion to get a husband — Louis XV. proposed as a suitor;
negotiation broken off — The Prince of Orange's oifev accepted — Ugly and
deformed — The King and Queen averse to the union — Dowry settled on
the Princess — Anecdote of the Duchess of Marlborough — Illness of the
bridegroom — Ceremonies attendant on the marriage— Mortification of
the Queen — The public nuptial chamli>er — Offence given to the Irish
peers — The Queen and Lady Suilblk — Homage paid by the Princess to
her deformed husband — Discontent of Prince Frederick — His anxiety
not unnatural — Congratulatory addresses by the Lords and Commons —
Spirited conduct of the Queen — Lord Chesterfield— Agitations on Wal-
pole's celebrated Excise Scheme— Lord Stair delegated to remonstrate
with the Queen — Awkward performance of his mission — Sharply rebuked
by Ihe Queen — Details of the interview — The Queen's success in over-
coming the King's antipathy to Walpole — Comments of the populace —
Royal interview with a bishop.
The social happiness of Caroline began now to be affected
by tlie condnct of her son Frederick, Prince of Wales,
Since liis ai-rival in England, in 1728, he had been but
coolly entertained by his parents, who refused to ]^ay the
debts lie liad accumulated in Hanover previous to liis
leaving the Electorate. He was soon in tlie arms of the
opposition ; and the court liad no more violent an enemy,
political or personal, than this prince.
His conduct, liowever — and some portion of it was
far from being \m])rovoked — did not ])revent the court
from entering into some social enjoyments of a harmless
and not over-amusing nature. Among these may be
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 20I
reckoned the ' readings ' at Windsor Castle. These read-
ings consisted of the poetry, or verses rather, of that
Stephen Duck, the thresher, whose rhymes Swift has ridi-
culed in lines as weak as any which ever fell from the
pen of Duck. The latter was a Wiltshire labourer, who
supported, or tried to support, a family upon the modest
wages of four-and-sixpence a week. In his leisure hours,
whenever those could have occurred, he cultivated poetry ;
and two of his pieces, ' The Shunamite ' and ' The
Thresher's Labour,' were publicly read in the drawing-
room at Windsor Castle, in 1730, by Lord Macclesfield.
Caroline procured for the poet the office of yeoman of
the guard, and afterwards nnade him keeper of her grotto.
Merlins Cave, at Kichmond. This last act, and the
patronage and pounds which Caroline wasted upon the
wayward and worthless savage, show that Swift's epigram
upon the busts in the hermitage at Richmond was not
based upon truth —
Louis, tile living learned fed,
And raised the scientific bead.
Our frugal Queen, to save her meat,
Exalts the heads that cannot eat.
Swift's anger against the Queen, who once promised
him some medals, but who never kept her word, and
from whom he had hoped, perhaps, for a patronage which
he failed to acquire, was further illustrated about this
time in a fiercely satirical poem, in which he says : —
May Caroline continue long —
For ever fair and young — in song.
What, though the royal carcase must,
Squeez'd in a coffin, turn to dust ?
Those elements her name compose,
Like atoms, are exempt from blows.
And, in allusion to the princesses and their prospects,
he adds, that Caroline ' hath crraces of her own : ' —
202 LIVES OF THE (lUEENS OF ENGLAND.
Three Graces by Lucina broufrbt her,
Just three, and ev'ry Grace a daui>hter.
Here many a king liis heart and crown
Shall at their snowy feet lay down ;
Tn royal robes they come by dozens
To court their English-German cousins :
Besides a pair of princely babies
That, five years hence, will both be Ilebes.
The royal patronage of Duck ultimately raised him to
tlie church, and made of him Vicar of Kew. But it failed
to bring to the thresher substantial liappiness. He had
little enjoyment in the station to which he was elevated ;
and, weary of the restraints it imposed on him, he ulti-
mately escaped from them by drowning himself.
Of the Graces who were the daughters of Caroline,
tlie marriage of one began now to be canvassed. Mean-
while, there was much food for mere talk in common
passing events at home. The courtiers had to express
sympathy at their Majesties' being upset in their carriage,
when travelling only from Kew to London. Then the
son of a Stuart had just died in London. He was that
Duke of Cleveland who was the eldest son of Charles II.
and Barbara Villiers. In the year 1731 died two far more
remarkable people. On the 8th of April ' Mrs. Elizabeth
Cromwell, daughter of Eichard Cromwell, the Protector,
and grand-daughter of Oliver Cromwell, died at her house
in Bedford Row, in the eighty-second year of her age.'
In the same month passed away a man whose writings
as much amused Caroline as they have done commoner
people — Defoe. He had a not mucli superior intellectual
training to that of Stephen Duck, but he was ' one of the
best English writers that ever had so mean an education.'
The deaths in the same year of the eccentric and profli-
gate Duke of Wharton, and of the relict of that Duke
of Momiiouth who lost his head for rebellion against
James II., gave further subject of conversation in the
court circle ; where, if it was understood that death was
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 203
inevitable and necessary, no one could understand what
had induced Dr. Nichols, of Trinity College, Cambridge,
to steal books from the libraries in that university town.
The court was highly merry at the precipitate flight of
the doctor, after he was found out ; but there was double
the mirth the next year at the awkwardness of the Em-
peror of Germany, who, happening to fire at a stag,
chanced to shoot Prince Schwartzenberg, his master of
the horse. But we turn from these matters to those of
wooing and marriage.
In the year 1733 the proud and eldest daughter of
Caroline, she who had expressed her vexation at having
brothers, who stood between her and the succession to
the crown — a crown, to wear which for a day, she averred
she would willingly die when the day was over — in the
year above named, the Princess Anne had reached the
mature age of twenty-foiu", and her hand yet remained
disengaged. Neither crown nor suitor had yet been
placed at her disposal. A suitor with a crown was once,
however, very nearly on the point of fulfilling the great
object of her ambition, and that when she was not more
than sixteen years of age. The lover proposed was no
less a potentate than Louis XV., and he would have
offered her a seat on a throne, which, proud as she
was, she might have accepted without much conde-
scension.
It is said that the proposal to unite Louis XV. and the
Princess Anne originated with the French minister, the
Duke de Bourbon, and that the project was entertained
with much favour and complacency, until it suddenly
occurred to some one that if the princess became queen
in France, she would be expected to conform to the reU-
gion of France. This, it was urged, could not be thought
of by a family which was a reigning family only by virtue
of its pre-eminent Protestantism. It does not seem to
204 LIVES OF THE (lUEENS OF ENGLAND.
have occurred to any one llmt wlieu Maria Henrietta
espoused Charles I., she liad not been even asked to
become a professed member of the Church of England,
and that we niiizht liave asked for tlie same toleration in
France for the daughter of Caroline as had been given
in En<rland to the dauj^hter of the ' Grand Henri.' How-
ever this may be, the affair was not })ursued to its end,
and Caroline could not say to her daughter, as Stanislas
said to his on the morning he received an offer for her
from the young King Louis : — ' Bon jour I ma fille : vous
Hes Reine de France ! '
Anne was unlucky. *She lived moodily on for some
half dozen years, and, nothing more advantageous offering,
she looked good-naturedly on one of the ughest princes in
Europe. But then he ha])[)oned to be a sovereign prince
in his way. This was the Prince of Orange, who resem-
bled Alexander the Great only in having a wry neck and
a halt in his gait. But he also had other deformities from
whicli the Macedonian was free.
George and Caroline were equally indisposed to accept
the prince for a son-in-law, and the parental disinclination
was expressed in words to the effect that neither King nor
Queen would force the feelings of their daughter, whom
they left free to accept or reject the missha])en suitor who
aspired to the plump hand and proud person of the
Princess Anne.
The lady thouglil of lier increasing years ; that lovers
were not to l)e found on every busli, especially sovereign
lovers ; and, remembering that tliere were Princesses of
England before her who had contrived to live in nuich
state and a certain degree of happiness as Princesses of
Oi'ange, she declared her intention of following the same
course, and compelling hci' anibition to stoo]) to the same
modest fortune.
The Queen was well avvai'c that hci' daughter knew
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 205
nothing more of tlic prince than what she conld collect
from his comiterfeit presentments hmned by flattering
artists ; and Caroline suggested that she should not be too
ready to accept a lover whom she had not seen. The
princess was resolute in her determination to take him at
once, ' for better, for worse.' Her royal father was some-
what impatient and chafed by such pertinacity, and
exclaimed that the prince was the ugliest man in Holland,
and he could not more terribly describe him. ' I do not
care,' said she, ' how ugly he may be. If he were a Dutch
baboon T would marry Inni.' ' Nay, then, have your way,'
said George, in his strong Westphalian accent, which was
always rougher and stronger when he was vexed ; ' have
your way : you will And baboon enough, I promise you ! '
Could the aspiring Prince of Orange only have heard
how amiably he was spoken of en famille by his future
relations, he would perhaps have been less ambitious of
completing the alhance. Happily these family secrets
were not revealed until long after he could be conscious
of them, and accordingly his honest proposals were
accepted with ostentatious respect and ill-covered ridicule.
The marriage of the princess royal could not be con-
cluded without an apphcation to parliament. To both
houses a civil intimation was made of the proposed union
of the Princess Anne and the Prince of Orange. In this
intimation the King graciously mentioned that he promised
himself the concurrence and assistance of the Commons to
enable him to give such a portion with his eldest daughter
as should be suitable to the occasion. The Commons'
committee promised to do all that the King and Queen
could expect from them, and they therefore came to the
resolution to sell lands in the island of St. Christopher
to the amount of 80,000/., and to make over that sum to
the King, as the dowry of his eldest daughter. The
resolution. made part of a bill of which it was only one of
206 JJVES ()/' THE (JUEENS OF ENGLAND.
tlie items, and tlic members in the house affected to I)e
scandalised tluit tin; dowiy of a Princess of England should
be 'lumped in' among a mass of miscellaneous items —
charities to individuals, grants to old churches, and sums
awarded for less dignified })urj)oses. But the bill passed
as it stood, and Caroline, who only a few days before had
sent a thousand pounds to the provost of Queen's College,
Oxford, for the rebuildinfr and adorninfy of that college,
was especially glad to find a dowry for her daughter, in
whatever company it might come, provided only it was not
out of her own purse.
The news of the securing of the dowry hastened the
coming of the bridegroom. On the 7th of November 17o2
he arrived at Greenwich, and tlience proceeded to Somerset
House. His intended wife, when she heard of his arrival, was
in no hurry to meet him, but went on at her harpsichord,
surrounded by a number of opera-people. The Queen
s})oke of him as ' that aiiim;d ! ' Tlie nuptials were to
have been speedily solemnised, but the lover fell grievously
sick. When the ])oor ' groom ' fell sick, not one of the
royal family condescended to visit him, and though he
himself maintained a dif^nified silence on this insultin"
conduct, his suite, who could not imitate their master's
indifference, made comment thereu])on loud and fre(iuent
enough. They got nothing by it, save being called Dutch
boobies. The princess royal exhibited no outward mani-
festation either of consciousness or sympathy. She
appeared precisely the same under all contingencies; and
whether the lover were in or out of England, in life or out
of it, seemed to this strong-minded lady to be one and
the same thing.
There was no one whom the postponement of the
marriage more annoyed than it did the Duchess of Marl-
borough. She was then residing in Marlborough House,
which had be(.'n built some (ive-aiid-twentyyears previously
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 207
by Wren. That architect was employed, not because he
was preferred, but that Vanbrugh might be vexed. The
ground, in which liad formerly been kept the birds and
fowls ultimately destined to pass through the kitchen to
the royal table, had been leased to the duchess by Queen
Anne, and the expenses of building amounted to nearly
fifty thousand pounds. The duchess both experienced
and caused considerable mortifications here. She used to
speak of the King in the adjacent palace as her ' neighbour
George.' The entrance to the house, from Pall Mall, was,
as it still is, a crooked and inconvenient one. To remedy
this defect, slie intended to purchase some houses ' in the
Priory,' as the locality was called, for the purpose of
pulUug them down and constructing a more commodious
entry to the mansion ; but Sir Robert Walpole, with no
more dignified motive than spite, secured the houses and
ground, and erected buildings on the latter, which, as now,
completely blocked in the front of the duchess's mansion.
She was subjected to a more temporary, but as incon-
venient, blockade when the preparations for the wedding
of the imperious Anne and her ugly husband were going
on. Among other preparations a boarded gallery, through
which the nuptial procession was to pass, was built up
close against the duchess's windows, completely darkening
her rooms. As the boards remained there during the
postponement of the ceremony, the duchess used to look
at them with the remark, ' I wish the princess would oblige
me by taking away her orange chest ! '
But the sick bridegroom took lont^ to mend ; and it
was not till the following January that he was even sufii-
ciently convalescent to journey by easy stages to Bath,
and there drink in health at the fashionable pump. A
month's attendance there restored him to something like
health ; and in February his serene highness was gravely
disporting himself at Oxford, exchanging compliments and
2o8 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
catiiiiz dinners with the sages and scliolars at tliat seat of
learning. Another month was allowed to pass, and then,
on the 24th of March 1733, the royal marriage was
solenmised ' in the French Chapel,' St. James's, by the
Bishop of London.
The ceremony was as theatrical and coarse as such
things used to be in those days. The prince must have
looked very much as M. Potier used to look in Eiquet k
la Houppe, before his transformation from deformity to
perfection. He was attired in a ' cloth of gold suit ; ' and
George and Caroline may be pardoned if they smiled at
the ' baboon ' whom they were about to accept for their
son-in-law. The bride was ' in virgin robes of silver
tissue, having a train six yards long, which was supported
by ten dukes' and earls' daughters, all of whom were
attired in robes of silver tissue.'
Nature will assert its claims in spite of pride or expe-
diency ; and accordingly it was observed that, after the
bridegroom had arrived, and the marriage procession
began to move through tlie temporarily constructed
gallery, blazing with light, and glittering with bright gems
and brigliter eyes, the biide herself seemed sliglitly
touched, and Caroline especially grave and anxious in her
deportment. Slie appeared, for the first time, to feel tliat
her daughter was about to make a great sacrifice, and her
consequent anxiety was probably increased by the convic-
tion that it was too late to save her daughter from
impending fate. The King himself, who had never been
in the eager condition of the sehjneur in the song, who so
peremptorily exclaims —
De ma fille Isabelle
Sois r^poux a I'instant —
manifested more impassibiHty tliaii ever. Finally, the
knot was tird iiiidci- a saKo ol ai lillery and a world of sighs.
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 209
The ceremony took place in tlie evening, and at mid-
niglit tlie royal family supped in public. It was a joyous
festival, and not before two in the morning did the jaded
married couple retire to the bower prepared for them,
where thej^ had to endure the further nuisance of sitting up
in bed, in rich undresses, while the court and nobihty,
' fresh ' from an exhilarating supper and strong wines,
defiled before them, making pleasant remarks the while, as
' fine gentlemen ' used to make who had been born in our
Augustan age.
Caroline felt compassion for her daughter, but she
restrained her feelings until her eye fell upon the bride-
groom. In his silver tissue night-dress, his light peruque,
his ugliness, and his deformity, he struck her as the im-
personation of a monster. His ill figure was so ill-dressed,
that, looked at from behind, he appeared to have no head,
and seen from before, he appeared as if he had neither
neck nor legs.^ The Queen was wonderfully moved at
the sight — moved with pity for her daughter, and with
indignation at her husband. The portion of the ceremony
which used to be the merriest was by far the most mourn-
ful, at least so far as the Queen's ]:>articipation therein was
concerned. She fairly cried with mingled vexation, dis-
appointment, and disgust. She could not even revert to
the subject, for days after, without crying, and yet laugh-
ing too, as the oddity of the bridegroom's ugliness came
across her mind.
The married couple were assuredly a strangely assorted
pair. The bride, indeed, was not without common-place
charms. In common with a dairy-maid the princess had
a lively clear look and a very fair complexion. Like
many a dairy- maid, too, of the time, she was very much
marked with the small-pox. She was also ill-made, and
inclined to become as obese as her royal mother. But
^ Lord Ilervey.
VOL. L r
2 10 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
then the bridegroom ! All writers clealiag with the subject
agree that his ugliness was something extraordinary. No
one doubts that he was deformed ; l3ut Hervey adds some
traits that are revolting. His serene highness did not,
like the gods, distil a celestial ichor. He appears, however,
not to have been void of sense or good feeling ; for when,
at the period of his arrival, lie was received with very
scanty honours and cold ceremony — was made to feel that
he was nothing in himself, and could only become any-
thing here by marrying an English princess ; when
George, if not Caroline, ' snubbed ' the courtiers who
crowded his apartments at Somerset House ; and when,
in short, the prince of 12,000/. a year was made to feel
tliat but little value was set upon him — lie bore it all in
silence, or as if he did not perceive it. Let us hope that
gallantry for the lady induced the princely Quasimodo
thus to act. It was almost more than she deserved ; for
while the people were ready to beheve that the alliance
was entered into the better to strengtlien the Protestant
succession, Anne herself was iinmediatel}^ moved thereto
by fear, if she were left single, of ultimately depending for
a provision upon her brother Frederick.
Lord Hervey was the master of the ceremonies on this
serio-comic occasion. According to his table of prece-
dence, the Irish peers were to walk in the procession after
the entire body of the peerage of Great Britain. This
was putting the highest Irish peer beneath the lowest
baron in Eritain. The Hibernian lords claimed to walk
immediately after the English and Scotcli peers of their
own degree. It was the most modest claim ever made
])y that august body; but, modest as it was, the arrogant
peers of Great Britain threatened, if the claim were
allowed, to absent themselves from the ceremony alto-
gether ! The case ^vas represented to Caroline, and she
took the side of right and common sense; but when she-
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 211
was told tliat to allow the Irish claim would be to banish
every British peer from the solemn ceremony, she was weak
enough to give way. Lord Hervey, in his programme
for the occasion, omitted to make any mention of the
peers of Ireland at all — thus leaving them to walk where
they could. On being remonstrated with, he said that if
the Irish lords were not satisfied he would keep all the
finery standing, and they might walk through it in any
order of pi'ccedency they liked on the day after the
wedding. One lord grievously complained of the omission
of the illustrious Hibernian body from the programme.
Lord Hervey excused himself by remarking, that as the
Irisli house of peers was then sitting in Dublin, he never
thought, being an Englishman, of the august members of
that assembly being in two places at once.
The claim was probably disallowed because Ireland
was not then in union with England, as Scotland was.
On no other ground could the claim have been refused ;
and Caroline sav/ that even that ground was not a very
good one whereon to rest a denial. As it was, the
Irish peers felt like poor relations, neither invited to nor
prohibited from the joyous doings, but with a thorough
conviction that, to use a popular ]:)hrase, their room was
deemed prefer? ble to their company.
During the week following the marriage, Frederick,
Prince of Wales, was employed, after a fashion which
suited his tastes extremely well, in escorting his brother-
in-law to v/itness the sights of London. It then appears
to have suddenly struck tlie government that it would be
as well to make an Englishman of the bridegroom, and
that that consummation could not be too quickly arrived
at. Accordingly, a bill for naturalising tiie prince was
brought in and read three times on the same day. It, of
course, passed unanimously, and the prince received the
intelligence of his having been converted into a Briton
p2
2 I 2 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF EXGLAXD.
with a pUegm wliicli showed that he liad not aUogether
ceased to be a Dutchman.
lie was much more pleasurably excited in the April
of the following year, when he heard that the King had
sent a w^ritten message to the Commons, intimating that
he had settled five thousand a year on the princess royal,
and desiring that they would enable him to make tlie
grant for the hfe of the princess, as it would otherwise
determine on his ]\Iajesty's death. The Commons com-
plied with this message, and the Prince of Orange was
infinitely more delighted with this Act than with that
which bestowed on him the legal rights of an Eng-
lishman.
This pleasant little arrangement having been con-
cluded, the prince and princess set ont for Holland, from
St. James's, on the 10th of April 1734 ; and in July of
the same year the princess w^as again in England, not at
all to the satisfaction of her sire, and but very scantily to
the delight of her mother. The young lady, however,
was determined to remain ; and it was not till November
that she once more returned to her home behind the
dykes. The Queen was not sorry to part with her, for
just then she was deep in the fracas connected with the
dismissal of her husband's ' favourite,' Lady Sufiblk, from
her ofiice of mistress of the robes to her Majesty, an office
in which she was succeeded by the more worthy Countess
of Tankerville. The King had the less time to be troubled
with thought about ' that old deaf woman,' as he very
ungallantly used to call his ancient ' favourite,' as he, too,
was deeply engaged in protesting against the Elector
Palatine, who had been very vigorously protesting against
tlie right of the King, as Elector of Hanover, to bear the
title of arch-treasurer of the empire.
The connniseration which the Queen liad felt for her
daughter was shared l^y the sister of the latter, the
CAROLIXE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 213
Princess Amelia, who declared that nothing on earth
could have induced her to wed with such a man as the
Prince of Orange. Her declaration was accepted for as
much as it was worth. The gentle Princess Caroline, on
the other hand, thought that her sister, under the circum-
stances, had acted wisely, and that, had she been so placed,
she would have acted in like manner. Nor did the con-
duct of the bride give the world any reason to think that
she stood in need of pity. She appeared to adore the
' monster,' who, it must be confessed, exhibited no parti-
cular regard for his spouse. The liomag§ she paid him
was perfect. ' She made prodigious court to him,' says
Lord Hervey, ' addressed everything she said to him, and
applauded everything he said to anybody else.'
Perhaps the pride of the princess would not permit a
doubt to be thrown upon her supreme happiness. Her
brother Frederick strove to mar it by raising a quarrel, on
a slight, but immensely absurd, foundation. He reproached
her for the double fault of presuming to be married before
him, and of accepting a settlement from her father when
he had none. He was ingenious in finding fault ; but
there may have been a touch of satire in this, for Anne
was known to have been as groundlessly angry with her
brother for a circumstance which he could not very well
help, namely, his ow^n birth, whereby the princess royal
ceased to be next heir to the croAvn.
The prince, however, was not much addicted to show-
ing respect to anybody, least of all to his mother. It
was because of this miserable want of respect for the
Queen that the King, in an interview forced on him by his
son, refused to settle a fixed annuity upon him — at least
till he had manifested a more praiseworthy conduct to-
wards the Queen.
The anxiety of Frederick on this occasion was not
unnatural, for he was deeply in debt, and of the 100,000/.
214 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
granted to tlie prince by parliament out of tlie civil list,
the King allowed liim only 3G,000/. The remainder was
appropriated by the King, who doubtless made his son's
conduct the rule of his liberahty, measuring his supplies
to the prince according as the latter was well or ill be-
haved. It was a degrading position enough, and the
degradation was heightened by the silent contempt with
which the King passed over his son's application to be
permitted to join in active service. Throughout these
first family quarrels, the Queen preserved a great imparti-
ality, with some leaning, perhaps, towards serving her
son. Nothing, however, came of it ; and, for the mo-
ment, Frederick was fain to be content with doing the
honours of the metropolis to his ungraceful brother-in-
law.
The congratulatory addresses which were presented on
the occasion of the marriage had a mordantly satirical
tone about them. It is wonderful how George and Caro-
line, whose unpopularity was increasing at this time, con-
tinued to preserve tlieir equanimity at hearing praises
rung on the name and services of ' Orange ' — the name of
a prince who had become King of England by rendering
the questionable service to his father-in-law of tm^ning
him off the throne.
The address of the Lords to the Queen, especially con-
gratulating the mother on the marriage of her daughter,
was rendered painful instead of pleasant by its being
presented, that is spoken, to her by Lord Chesterfield.
Caroline had never seen this peer since the time he was
dismissed from her husl)and's household, when she was
Princess of Wales. He had not been presented at court
since the accession of the present Sovereign, and the
Queen was tlicrcfore resolved to treat as an utter stranger
the man who had jjcen impertinent enough to declare he
designed that the step he took should be considered as a
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 21 5
complimciifc to tlic Queen. The latter abhorred him,
nevertheless, for his present attempt to turn the compH-
ment addressed to her by the Lords into a joke. Before he
appeared, Caroline intimated her determination not to let
the peer's cool impertinence awe or disconcert her. He
really did find what she declared he should, that ' it
Y/as as little in his power for his presence to embarrass her
as for his raillery behind her back to pique her, or his
consummate skill in politics to distress the King or his
ministers.'^
The Queen acted up to this resolution. She received
Lords Chesterfield, Scarborough, and Hardwicke, the
bearers of the address, in her bedchamber, no one else
being present but her children and Lord Hervey, who
stood behind her chair. The last-named nobleman, in
describing the scene, says : ' Lord Chesterfiekl's speech
was well written and well got by heart, and yet delivered
with a faltering voice, a face as v/hite as a sheet, and
every limb trembling with, concern. The Queen's answer
was quiet and natural, and delivered with the same ease
that she would have spoken to the most indifferent per-
son in her circle.'
Caroline, however, had more serious matters to attend
to during this year than ailairs of marriage. Of these
we will now briefly speak.
Sir Eobert Walpole's celebrated Excise scheme was
prolific .in raising political agitations and exciting both
political and personal passions. The Peers were, strangely
enough, even more resolute against the measure than the
Commons ; or perhaps it would be more correct to say,
that a portion of them took advantage of the popular
feeling to further thereby their own particular interests
and especial objects.
It is again illustrative of the power and influence of
.^ Lord Ilervey.
2l6 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
Caroline, and of the esteem in wliicli she was held, that
a bod}' of the peers delegated Lord Stair to proceed to
the Queen, at Kensington, and remonstrate ■with her upon
the nnconstitutional and destructive measure, as they
designated the Excise project.
Lord Stair was a bold man and was accustomed to
meet and contend with sovereigns. He had no doubt of
being able to turn Caroline to his purpose. But never
did delegate perform his mission so awkwardly. He
thought to awaken the Queen's indignation against Wal-
pole by imparting to her the valuable admonitory know-
ledge that she was ruled by that subtle statesman. He
fancied he improved his position by informing her that
AYalpole was universally hated, that ho was no gentle-
man, and that he v/as as ill-looking as he was ill-inchned.
He even forgot his mission, save when he spoke of fidelity
to his constituents, by going into purely personal matters,
railing at the minister whose very shoe-buckles he had
kissed in order to be appointed vice-admiral of Scotland,
when the Duke of Queensberry was ejected from that
post, and accusing Walpole of being manifestly untrue
to the trust which he held, seeing that whenever there
was an office to dispose of, he invariably preferred
giving it to the Campbells rather than to him — Stair.
To the iJamphells ! — he reiterated, as if the very name
were enough to rouse Caroline against Walpole. To the
Campbells ! who tried to rule England by means of the
King's mistress; opposed to governing it by means of
the King's wife.
Carohne heard him with decent and civil patience
until he had gone through his fist of private grievances,
and began to meddle with matters personal to herself and
the royal hearth. She then burst forth, and was superb
in her rebuke — superb in its matter and manner —
superb in her dignity aud in the severity with which she
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 21 7
crushed Lord Stair beneath her fiery sarcasms and her
withering contempt. She ridiculed his assertions of
fidehty, and told him he had become traitor to his own
country and the betrayer of his own constituents. She
mocked his complacent assurances that his object was not
personal, but patriotic. She professed her intense abhor-
rence of having the private dissensions of noblemen
ripped open in her presence, and bade him learn better
manners than to speak, as he had done, of ' the King's
servants to the King's wife.'
' My conscience,' said Lord Stair.
' Don't talk to me of your conscience, my lord,' said
Carohne ' ' or I shall faint.' The conversation was in
French, and the Queen's precise words were, ' Ne me
parlez point de conscience, milord ; vous me faites
evanouir.'
The Scottish lord was sadly beaten down, and con-
fessed his disgraceful defeat by requesting her Majesty to
be good enough to keep what had passed at the interview
as a secret. He added, in French, ' Madame, le Eoi est
trompe et vous etes trahie ' — ' The King is deceived and
you are betrayed.' He had previously alluded to Lords
Bolingbroke and Carteret, as men worthy indeed to be
trusted, and who had the honour and glory of the king-
dom at heart. These names, with such testimonial at-
tached to them, especially excited the royal indignation.
' Bolingbroke and Carteret ! ' exclaimed Caroline. ' You
may tell them from me, if you will, that they are men
of no parts ; that they are said to be two of tlie greatest
liars in any country ; and that my observation and ex-
perience confirm what is said of them.' ^
Stair reiterated his request that the incidents of the
private interview should not be further spoken of.
Caroline consented ; and she must have felt some con-
^ Lord Hervey.
31 8 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
tempt for him as lie also promised that he would keep
them secret, giving knowledge thereof to no man.
' Well ? ' said Carteret, enquiringly, as he met with
Lord Stair after this notable interview with Caroline.
' Well ! ' exclaimed Lord Stair, ' I have staggered
her ! ' A pigmy might as well have boasted of having
staggered Thalestris and Hippolyta.
A short time subsequently Lord Hervey was Avith tlie
Queen, in her apartment, purveying to her, as he was
wont to do, the floating news of the day. Among other
things, he told her of an incident in a debate in parlia-
ment upon the army supplies. In the course of the
discussion, Carteret had observed that, at the period
when Cardinal Mazarin was ruining France by his op-
pressive measures, a great man sought an audience of the
Queen (Anne of Austria, mother of the young King
Louis XIV.), and after explaining to her the perils of
the times, ended with the remark that she was maintain-
ins; a man at the helm who deserved to be rowimy in
the galleys.
Caroline immediately knew that Lord Stair had
revealed what he had petitioned her to keep secret ; and
feeling that she was thereby exonerated from observing
fm^ther silence, her Majesty took the opportunity to ' out
with it all,' as she said in not less choice French : ' J'ai
pris la premiere occasion d'egosiller tout.'
Eeverting to Carteret's illustration she observed that
the ' great man ' noticed by him was Conde, a man who
never had a word to say against Mazarin as long as the
cardinal fed a rapacity which coidd never be satisfied.
This was, in some degree. Stair's position witli regard to
Walpole. ' Conde, in his interview with the Queen of
France,' observed the well-read Queen of England, ' had
for his object to impose upon her and France, by endea-
vouring to persuade her that his private ' resentments
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 219
were only a consequence of his zeal for the public
service.'
Lord Hervey, very gallantly and courtier-like, ex-
pressed his wish that her Majesty could have been in the
house to let the senate know her wisdom ; or that she
could have been concealed there, to have had the oppor-
tunity of saying, with Agrippine —
Derriere uiie voile, invisible, et preseuto,
Je fus de ce gTund corps ITiuie toute puissante.
The quotation, perhaps, could not have been altogether
applicable, but as Lord Hervey quoted it, and ' my lord '
was a man of wit, it is doubtless as well-placed as wit
could make it. The Queen, at all events, took it as a
compliment, laughed, and declared, that often when she
was with these impatient fellows, ever ready with their
unreasonable remonstrances, she was tempted herself to
say, with Agrippine, that she was —
Fille, femme, et mere cle vos maitres ;
a quotation less applicable even than the former, but in
which Lord Hervey detected such abundance of wit that
he went into a sort of ecstasy of delight at the Queen's
judgment, humour, knowlege, and ability.
When the Excise bill was for the first time brought
before the house, the debate lasted till one in the morn-
ing. Lord Hervey, during the evening, wrote an account
of its progress to the King and Queeii ; and when he
repaired to the palace at the conclusion of the discussion,
the King kept him in the Queen's bed-chamljer, talking
over the scene, till three o'clock in the morning, and
never for a moment remembered that the hiuigry intel-
ligencer had not dined since the yesterday.
When the clamour against the bill rose to such a pitch
that all England, the army included, seemed ready to
rise against it, Walpole offered himself as a personal
2 20 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OE ENGLAND.
sacrifice, if the service and interests of the King would be
promoted by his surrender of office and power. It is
again ilhistrative of tlie influence of Caroline that this
offer was made to her and not to the King. He was in
truth the Queen's minister ; and nobly she stood b}^ liim.
When Walpole made the offer in question, Caroline de-
clared that she would not be so mean, so cowardly, or so
ungrateful as to abandon him ; and she infused the same
spirit into the King. The latter had intended, from tlie
first, to reign and govern, and be effectively his own
minister ; but Caroline so Avrought upon him that he
thought he had of liimself reached the conviction that it
was necessary for him to trust in a minister, and that
Walpole was the fittest man for such an office. And so
he grew to love the very man whom he had been wont
to hold in his heart's extremest hate. He would even
occasionally speak of him as a ' noble fellow,' and, with
tears in his eyes, would listen to an account of some
courageous stand Walpole had made in the house against
the enemies of the government, and he would add the
while a running commentary of sobs.
The Queen's greatest triumph was this overcoming of
her husband's personal hatred for Walpole. It could
not have been an achievement easy to be accomplished.
But her art in effecting such achievements was supreme,
and she alone could tm-n to her own purpose the caprices
of a hot-headed man, of whom it has been said, that he
was of iron obstinacy, but that he was unlike iron in this,
that the hotter he became the more impossible it was to
bend liim. Caroline found liim pliant when slie found
him cool. But then, too, he was most wary, and it was
necessary so to act as to cause every turn which she
compelled him to make appear to himself as if it were
the result of liis own luibiassed volition.
Supremely able as Caroline was, she could not, how-
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA, 22 1
ever, always conceal her emotion. Thus, at this very
period of the agitation of the Excise bill, on being told,
at one of her evening drawing-rooms, of the difficulties
and dangers which beset tlie path of the government, slic
burst into tears, became unusually excited, and finally
aflecting, and perhaps feeling, headaclie and vapours, she
broke up her quadrille party, and betrayed in lier out-
ward manner an apparent conviction of impending
calamity. Slie evinced the same w^eakness on being told,
on a subsequent evening, that Walpole was in a majority
of only seventeen. Such a small majority she felt was a
defeat ; and, on this occasion, she again burst into tears,
and for the first time expressed a fear that the court
7)mst give way ! The sovereign was, at the same time, as
strong within her as tJie woman ; and when she heard of
the subordinate holders of government posts voting
against the minister or declining to vote witli him, she
bitterly denounced them, exclaiming, that they who
refused to march with their leader were as guilty as they
Vv^ho openly deserted, and that both merited condign
punishment.^
The King on this occasion was as excited as his con-
sort, l3ut he manifested his feelings in a different way.
He made Lord Hervcy repeat the names of those who
thwarted the views of the crown, and he grunted forth
an angry commentary at each name. ' Lord John
Cavendish,' began Hervey. 'A fool V snorted the King.
' Lord Charles Cavendish.' ' Ualf mad ! ' ' Sir William
Lowther.' ' A ichimsical fellow ! ' ' Sir Thomas Pren-
dergast.' ' Aii Irish blockhead ! ' ' Lord Tyrconncl.'
' A pu2?py,' said George, ' who never votes twice on the
same side ! '
On the other hand, the populace made their comment
on the proceedings of the court. It was rendered in a
' Lord Ilervey.
2 22 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
highly popuhar way, and witli iiiiich significancy. In the
city of London, for instance, the mob hnng in effigy Sir
Eobert Walpole and a fat woman. The male figure was
duly ticketed. The female effigy was well understood to
mean the Queen.
Iler power would, after all, not have followed in its
fall that of Walpole. Lord Hervey remarks, that had he
retired, Caroline would have placed before the King the
names of a new ministry, and that the administration
would not have huno- together a moment after it had
outlived her likinof.
In the meantime her indefatigability was great. At
the suggestion, it is supposed, of V/alpole, she sent for
the Bishop of Salisbury, Dr. Hoadly, who repaired to
the interview with his weak person and stately inde-
pendence, if one may so speak, upheld by his ' crutched
stick.' His power must have been considered very great,
and so must his caprice; for he was frequently sent for by
Caroline, remonstrated with for supposed rebellion, or
urged to exert all his good offices in support of the
crown. It is diiFicult to believe that the lengthy speeches
reported by Hervey were actually delivered by Queen
and bishop. There is nothing longer in Livy, and we are
not told that any one took them down. Substantially,
however, they may be true. The Queen was insinuating,
complimentar}^, suggestive, and audacious ; the bishop all
dui}'', submission, and promise — as far as his consistency
and })rincip]e3 could be engaged. But, after all, the im-
mense mountain of anxiety and stratagem was reared in
vain, for Walpole withdrew his bill, and Caroline felt
that England was but nominally a monarchy.
CHAPTEE IV.
FAMILY AND NATIONAL QUARRELS.
Ketireineut of Lady SufTolk — Tact of Queen Caroliue — AiTogance of
Princess Anne — Private life of the royal family — The Count de Roncy,
the French refugee — German predilections of the Queen — A scene at
court — Queen Caroline's decliniug health — Ambitious aspirations of
Princess Anne — Bishop Hoadly and the see of "Winchester — The
Queen and the clergy — The Queen appointed Pegent — The King and
Madame Walmoden — Lord Hervey's imaginary post-obit diary — The
Queen's farewell interview with Lady Suft'olk — Grief made fashionable
— The temper of the King on his return — A scene : dramatis personse,
the King, Queen, and Lord Ilervey — Lady Deloraine (Pope's Delta) a
royal favourite — An an.giy scene between the King and Queen — The
King's opinion of Bishop Iloadly — Dissension between the King and
Prince — The royal libertine at Hanover — Court revels— Lady Boling-
broke and the Queen.
The jquy 1734 was marked by tlie retirement from court
of tlie lady whom it was the iashioii to call the Qiteen's
rival. Mrs. Howard, on becoming Countess of Suffolk,
by tlie accession of her husband to the earldom in 1731,
had been raised to the office of mistress of the robes to
the Queen. Her husband died two jeavs subsequently;
and, shortly after, the King's widowed favoiu'ite was
sought in marriage by another suitor.
Her departure from court v^'ns doubtless principally
caused by this new prospect of a happier life. It may
have been accelerated by other circumstances. Lord
Chesterfield, angry with the Queen for forgetting to exert
her promised influence for him in obtaining some favour,
applied to Lady Suffolk, and informed the Queen of the
course he had taken. Carohne thereon told the King that
slie had had some petition to present on Lord Chesterfield's
2 24 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
belialf,,but that as he had entrusted it to Lady Suffolk's
presentmg, her own inlluciice would probably be un-
availing. The King, fired at the implied affront to his
consort, treated his old mistress, now nearly half a century
in years, with such severity that she begged to be per-
mitted to withdraw. Lady Suffolk brought her long career
at court to a close in this year, previous to her marriage
with the Honourable George Berkeley, younger son of
the second Earl of Berkeley. He was Master of St. Ca-
therine's in the Tower, and had served in two parliaments
as member for Dover. Horace Walpole, who knew Lady
Suffolk intimately when she was residing at Marble Hil],
Twickenham, and he at Strawberry Hill, says of her, that
she was what may be summed up in the word ' lady-hke.'
She was of a good height, well made, extremely fair, with
the finest light-brown hair, was remarkably genteel, and
was always dressed with taste and simplicity. He adds,
' for her face was regular and agreeable rather than beau-
tiful, and those charms she retained, with httle diminution,
to her death, at the age of seventy-nine' (in July 17G7).
He does not speak liighly of her mental qualifications,
but states that she was grave, and mild of character, had
a strict love of truth, and was rather apt to be circum-
stantial upon trifles. The years of her hfe, after her
withdrawal from court, were passed in a decent, dignified,
and ' respectable ' manner, and won for her a cousidera-
tioii which her earlier career had certainly not merited.
The Queen's influence was even stronger than the
fiivourite's credit. ' Except a barony, a red riband, and
a good place for her brother. Sir John Hobart, Earl of
Buckinghamshire, Lady Suffolk could succeed but in very
subordinate recommendations. Her own acquisitions
were so moderate, that, besides Marble Hill, which cost
the King ten or twelve thousand pounds, her complaisance
had not been too dearly purchased. She left tiic coiut
CAROLINE VVILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 225
witli ail income so little to be envied, that though an
economist and not expensive, by the lapse of some an-
nuities on lives not so prolonged as her own, she found
herself straitened, and, besides Marble Hill, did not at
most leave twenty thousand pounds to her family. On
quitting court, she married Mr. George Berkeley, and
outhved him.'^
It is not certain how far Caroline's influence was ex-
ercised in the removal of Lady Suffolk, whom the Queen,
according to some authors, requested to continue some
time longer in her office of mistress of the robes. Nor is
it important to ascertain. Caroline had higher duties to
perform. She continued to serve her husband well, and
she showed her opinion of her son, the Prince of Wales,
by her conduct to him on more than one occasion. Thus,
on New Year's Day the prince attended his royal sire's
levee.^ not with any idea of paying his father the slightest
measure of respect, but, suspecting that the King would
not speak to him, to show the people with what contempt
the homage of a dutiful son was met by a stern parent.
When Caroline heard of the design, she simply persuaded
the King to address his son kindly in public. This advice
was followed, and the filial plot accordingly failed.
The Queen was as resolute in supporting the King
against being driven into settling a permanent income
upon the prince. She spoke of the latter as an extrava-
gant and unprincipled fool, only less ignorant than those
who were idiots enough to give opinions upon what they
could not understand. ' He costs the King 50,000/.
a-year, and till he is married that may really be called a
reasonable allowance.' She stigmatised him as a ' poor
creature,' easily led away, but not naturally bad-hearted.
His seducers she treated as knaves, fools, and monsters.
To the suggestion that a fixed allowance, even if it should
* Walpole.
VOL. I. Q
2 26 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
be less tlian wliat the King paid out for him every year,
would be better than the present plan, Caroline only
replied tliat the King thought otherwise ; and so the
matter rested.
The tact of the Queen was further displayed in the
course adopted by her on an occasion of some delicacy.
Lord Stair had been deprived of his regiment for attempt-
ing to bring in a law whereby the commissions of officers
should be secured to tliem for life. The King said he
would not allow him to keep by favom* what he had
endeavoured to keep by force. Thereupon Lord Stair
addressed a private letter to the Queen, through her lord-
chamberlain, stuffed with prophetic warnings against the
machinations of France and the designs of Walpole.
Caroline, on becoming acquainted with the contents
of the epistle, rated her chamberlain soundly, and bade
him take it instantly to Sir Robert Walpole, with a request
to the latter to lay it before the King. She thus ' very
dexterously avoided the danger of concealing such a
letter from the King, or giving Sir Eobert Walpole any
cause of jealousy from showing it.' His Majesty very
sententiously observed upon the letter, that Lord Stair
' was a puj^py for writing it, and the lord-chamberlain a
fool for bringing it.' The good chamberlain was a fool
for other reasons also. He had no more rational power
than a vegetable, and his solitary political sentiment was
to this effect, and wrapped up in very bad English : ' I
hate the Frcncli, and I hope as we shall beat the French.' ^
The times were growing warlike, and it was on the
occasion of the Prince of Orange going to the camp of
Prince Eugene that the Princess Anne returned to Eng-
land. She was as arrogant and as boldly spoken as ever.
In the latter respect she manifested much of the spirit of
her mother. During her stay at court, the news of the
* Lord Ilcrvoy.
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 227
surrender of Philipsburg readied this country. Her
highness's remark thereon, in especial reference to her
royal father, is worth quoting. It was addressed to Lord
Hervey, who was leading the princess to her own apart-
ment after the drawing-room ' Was there ever anything
so unaccountable,' said she, shrugging up her shoulders,
' as the temper of papa ? He has been snapping and
snubbing every mortal for this week, because he began to
think Philipsburg would be taken ; and this very day,
that he actually hears it is taken, he is in as good humour
as I ever saw him in in my life. To tell you the truth,'
she added, in French, ' I find that so whimsical, and
(between ourselves) so utterly foolish, that I am more
enraged by his good, than I was before by his bad,
humour.'
' Perhaps,' answered Lord Hervey, ' he may be about
Philipsburg as David was about the child, who, whilst it
was sick, fasted, lay upon the earth, and covered himself
with ashes, but the moment it was dead, got up, shaved
his beard, and drank wine.' ' It may be like David,'
said the princess royal, ' but I am sure it is not like
Solomon.'
It was hardly the time for Solomons. Lord Chan-
cellor King was a man of the people, who, by talent,
integrity, and perseverance, rose to the highest rank to
which a lawyer can work his way. He lost his popularity
almost as soon as he acquired the seals, and these he was
ultimately compelled, from gromng imbecility of mind,
to resign. He was the most dilatory in rendering judg-
ments of all our chancellors, and would never willingly
have decided a question, for fear he should decide it incor-
rectly. This characteristic, joined to the fact of his having
published a history of the Apostles' Creed, extorted from
Caroline the smart saying, that ' He was just in the law
what he had formerly been in the Gospel, making creeds
Q 2
2 28 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
upon the one witliout any steady belief, and judgments
in tlie other without any settled opinion. But the misfor-
tune for the public is,' said Caroline, ' that though they
could reject his silly creeds, they are forced often to sub-
mit to his silly judgments.'
The court private life of the sovereigns at this time
was as dull as can well be imagined. There were two
persons who shared in this life, and who were very miser-
ably paid for theu" trouble. These were the Count de
Eoncy and liis sister. They were French Protestants,
wdio, for conscience' sake, had surrendered their all in
France and taken refuge in England. The count was
created Earl of Lifford in Ireland. His sister. Lady
Charlotte de Eoncy, was governess to the younger chil-
dren of George II. Every night in the country, and
thrice a week when the King and Queen were in town,
this couple passed an hour or t^vo with the King and
Queen before they retired to bed. During this time ' the
King walked about, and talked to the brother of armies,
or to the sister of genealogies, while the Queen knotted
and yawned, till fi'om yawning she came to nodding, and
from nodding to snoring.' ^
Tliis amiable pair, who had lived in England during
four reigns, were in fact hard- worked, ill-paid court-
drudges ; too ill-paid, even, to appear decently clad ; an
especial reproach upon Caroline, as the lady Avas the
governess of her children. But they were not harder
worked, in one respect, than Caroline herself, who passed
seven or eight hours tete-a-tete with the King every, day,
' generally saying what she did not think,' says I^ord
Hervey, ' and forced, like a spider, to spin out of lier own
bowels all the conversation with wliich the fly was taken.'
The King could bear neitlier reading nor being read to.
But, for tlie sake of power, though it is not to be supposed
' Lord Ilervey.
CAROUNE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 229
that affection had not some part in influencing Carohne
to undergo such heavy trial, she endured that wilhngly,
and indeed much more than that.
At all events, she had some respect for her husband ;
but she despised the son, who, in spite of her opinion of
the natural goodness of his heart, was mean and menda-
cious. The prince, moreover, was weaker of understand-
ing and more obstinate of temper than his father. The
latter hated him, and because of that hatred, his brother,
the Duke of Cumberland, was promoted to public employ-
ment. His sisters betrayed him. Had Caroline not
had a contempt for him, she would have influenced the
King to a very different line of conduct.
It was said of Frederick, that, from his German edu-
cation, he was more of a German than an Englishman.
But the bias alluded to was not stronger in him than it
was in his mother.
Carohne was so much more of a German than of an
Englishwoman, that when the interests of Germany were
concerned she was always ready to sacrifice the interests
of England. Her daughter Anne would have had Europe
deluged in blood for the mere sake of increasing her own and
her husband's importance. In a general war she thought
he would come to the surface. Caroline was disinclined to
go to war for the empire only because she feared that,
in the end, there might be war in England, with the
English crown for the stake. •
There was at this time m London a dull and proud
imperial envoy, named Count Kiuski. He was haughty
and impertinent in his manner of demanding succour, as
his master was in requiring it, from the Dutch. Carohne
raUied him on this one day, as he was riding by the side
of her carriage at a stag-hunt. She used a very homely
and not a very nice illustration to show the absurdity of
losing an end by foolishly neglecting the proper means.
230 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
' If u liundkercliief lay before ine,' said she, ' aud I felt I
had a dirty uose, my good Coiiut Kiuski, do you think I
should beckon the handkerchief to come to me, or stoop
to take it up ? ' ^
Political matters were not neglected at these hunting-
parties. Lord Hervey, 'her child, her pupil, and her
chai'gc,' who constantly rode by the side of her carriage,
on a hunter which she had given him, and which could
not have been of much use to him if he never quitted
the side of his mistress, used to discuss politics while
others followed the stag. The Queen, who was fourteen
years older than he, used to say, ' It is well I am so old,
or I should be talked of because of this creature ! '
And indeed the intercourse was constant and famiUar.
He was always with lier when she took breakfast, which
she usually did alone, and was her chief friend and com-
panion when the King was absent. Such familiarity gave
him considerable freedom, which the Queen jokingly
called impertinence, and said that he indulged in that and
in contradicting her because he knew that she could not
hve without him.
It was at a hunting-party that Lord Hervey endea-
voured to convince her that for England to go to war for
the i)urpose of serving the empire would be a disastrous
course to take. He could not convince her in a long
conversation, and thereupon, the chase being over, he sat
down and penned a political jjamphlet, which he called a
letter, which was ' as long as a " President's Message," and
which he forwarded to the Queen.' If Carohue was not
to be persuaded by it, she at least thought none the worse
of the writer, who had spared no argument to support
the cause in which he boldly pleaded.
We have another liome-scene depicted by Lord
Hervey, which at once shows us an illustration of parental
' Lord Hervey.
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 23 I
affection and parental indifference. The Princess Anne,
after a world of delay, had reluctantly left St. James's
for Holland, where her husband awaited her, and whither
she went for her confinement. The last thing she thought
of was the success of the opera and the triumph of Handel.
She recommended both to the charge of LordHervey, and
then went on her way to Harwich, sobbing. When she
had reached Colchester she, upon receiving some letters
from her husband stating his inability to be at the Hague
so soon as he expected, started suddenly for Kensington.
In the meantime, in the palace at the latter place Lord
Hervey found the Queen and the gentle Princess Caroline
sitting together, diinking chocolate, shedding tears, and
sobbing, all at the absence of the imperious Lady Anne.
The trio had just succeeded in banishing melancholy re-
membrances by launching into cheerful conversation, when
the gallery door was suddenly opened, and the Queen
rose, exclaiming, ' The King here already ! ' When, how-
ever, she saw that, instead of the King, it was only the
Prince of Wales, and ' detesting the exchange of the son
for the daughter, she burst out anew into tears, and cried
out, "Oh, God ! this is too much ! '' ' She was only relieved
by the entry of the King, who, perceiving but not speak-
ing to his son, took the Queen by the hand and led her
out to walk.
This ' cut direct,' by affecting to be unconscious of the
presence of the obnoxious person, was a habit with the
King. ' Whenever the prince was in a room with him,'
says Lord Hervey, ' it put one in mind of stories that one
has heai-d of ghosts which appear to part of the company
and were invisible to the rest ; and in this manner, wher-
ever the prince stood, though the King passed him ever
so often, or ever so near, it always seemed as if the King
thought the prince filled a void space.'
On the following day, the 22nd of October, the Princess
232 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
Aiine suddenly appeared before her parents. They
thought lier at Harwich, or on the seas, the wind being
fair. Tears and kisses were her welcome fi-oni her mother,
and smiles and an embrace formed the greeting from her
father. The return was ill-advised, but the Queen, with
a growing conviction of decaying health, could not be
displeased at seeing again her first child.
The health of Caroline was undoubtedly at this time
much impaired, but the King allowed her scant respite
from labour on that account. Thus on the 29th of this
month, although the Queen was labouring under cold,
cough, and sym[)t.oms of fever, in addition to having been
weakened by loss of blood, a process she had recently
undergone twice, the King not only brought her from
Kensington to London for the birthday, but forced her
to go with him to the opera to hear the inimitable
Farinelli. He himself thouglit so little of illness, or liked
so little to be thought ill, that he would rise from a sick
couch to proceed to hold a levee^ which was no sooner
concludcid than he would immediately betake himself to
bed again. His affection for the Queen was not so great
but that he compelled the same sacrifices from her ; and
on the occasion of this birthday, at the morning drawing-
room, she found herself so near swooning, that she was
obliged to send her chamberlain to the King, begging him
to retire, ' for she was unable to stand any longer.' Not-
withstanding which, we are told by Lord Hervey, that
' at night he brought her into a still greater crowd at the
ball, and there kept her till eleven o'clock.'
Sir Robert Walpole frequently, and never more
urgently than at this time, impressed upon her the neces-
sity of being careful of her own health. He addressed
her as though she had been Queen Regnant of England —
as she certainly was governing sovereign — and he de-
scribed to lier in such ])alhetic terms the dangers which
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 233
England would, and Europe might, incur, if any fatal
accident deprived her of life, and the King were to fall
under the influence of any other woman, that the poor
Queen, complaining and coughing, with head heavy, and
aching eyes half closed with pain, cheeks flushed, pulse
quick, spirits low, and breathing oppressed, burst into
tears, alarmed at the picture, and with every disposition
to do her utmost for the benefit of her health and the
well-being of the body politic.
It was the opinion of Carohne, that in case of her
demise the King would undoubtedly marry again, and she
had often advised him to take such a step. She affected,
however, to believe that a second wife would not be able
to influence him to act contrary to the system which
he had adopted through the influence of herself and
Walpole.
It was during the sojourn of the Princess Anne in
England that she heard the details of the withdrawal of
Lady Suffolk from court. Everybody appeared to be
rejoiced at that lady's downfall, but most of all the
Princess Anne. The King thought that of all the cliildren
of himself and Caroline, Anne loved him best. This
dutiful daughter, however, despised him, and treated him
as an insufferable bore, who always required novelty in
conversation from others, but never told anything new of
his own. In allusion to the withdrawal of Lady Suflblk
from court, this amiable child remarked, ' I wish with all
my heart he would take somebody else, that Mamma
might be a little relieved from the occasion of seeing
him for ever in her room ! '
In November the Princess Anne once more proceeded
to Harwich, put to sea, and w^as so annoyed by the usual
inconveniences that she compelled the captain to land her
again. She declared that she should not be well enough
for ten days to go once more aboard. This caused great
234 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
confusion. Her father, and indeed tlie Queen also, insisted
on her repakiug to Holland by way of Calais, a^ her
husband had thoughtfully suggested. She was compelled
to pass through London, much to the King's annoyance,
but he declared that she should not stop, but proceed at
once over London Bridge to Dover. He added, that she
should never again come to England in the same condi-
tion of health. His threat was partly founded on the
expense, her visit having cost him 20,000/. Her reluctance
to proceed to her husband's native country wa^s founded,
it has been suggested, on her own ambitious ideas. Her
brothers were unmarried, and she was anxious, it is
thouglit, that her own child should be English born, as it
would stand in the line of inheritance to the throne.
However this may be, the Queen saw the false step the
daughter had already taken, and insisted on the wishes
of her husband, the prince, being attended to ; and so
the poor foiled Anne went home to become a mother, very
much against her will.
The Princess Amelia observed to Mrs. Clayton, the
Queen's bedchamber-woman, that her brother, Prince
Frederick, would have been displeased if the accouchement
of the princess had taken place in England. To this, Mrs.
Clayton, as Lord Hervey observes, very justly remarked,
* I cannot imagine, madam, how it can affect the prince at
all where she lies in ; since with regard to those wlio wish
more of your royal highness's family on the throne, it is
no matter whether she be brought to bed here or in
Holland, or of a son or a daughter, or whether she has
any child at all ; and with regard to those who wish all
your family well, for your sake, madam, as well as our
own, we shall be very glad to take any of you in your
turn, but none of yon out of it.'
But the Queen had otlier business this year wherewith
to occupy her besides royal marriages, or fiUal indisposi-
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 235
tions. Ill some of these matters her sincerity is sadly
called in question. Here is an instance.
In 1734 the Bishop of Winchester was stricken with
apoplexy, and Lord Hervey was no sooner aware of that
significant fact — it was a mortal attack — than he wrote
to Hoadly at Salisbury, urging him in the strongest terms
to make application to be promoted from Sarum to the
almost vacant see.
This promotion had been promised him by the Ejng,
Queen, and Walpole, all of whom joined in blandly re-
proving the bishop for being silent when Durham was
vacant, whereby alone he lost that golden appointment.
He had served government so well, and yet had contrived
to maintain most of his usual popularity with the public,
that he had been told to look upon Winchester as his
own, whenever an opening occurred.
Hoadly was simple enough to believe that the Queen
and Walpole were really sincere. He addressed a letter
to the King through his ' two ears ' — the Queen and
Walpole ; and he wrote as if he were sure of being pro-
moted, according to engagement, while at the same time
he acted as if he were sure of nothing.
Caroline called the bishop's letter indelicate, hasty,
ill-timed, and such like ; but Hoadly so well obeyed the
instructions given to him that there was no room for
escape, and he received tiie appointment. When he went
to kiss hands upon his elevation, the King was the only
one who behaved with common honesty. He, and Caro-
line too, disliked the man, whom the latter affected a
delight to honour, for the reason that his respect for
royalty was not so great as to bhnd him to popular rights,
which he supported with much earnestness. On his
reception by the King, the latter treated him with dis-
gracefid incivility, exactly in accordance with his feelings.
Carohne did violence to hers, and gave him honeyed words,
236 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
and showered congratulations upon him, and pelted him,
as it were, with compliments and candied courtesy. As
for Sir Robert Walpole, who hated Hoadly as much as
his royal mistress and her consort did together, he took
the new Bishop of Wincliester aside, and, warndy pressing
his hand, assured him without a blush that his translation
from Sarum to Winchester was entirely owing to the
mediation of himself, Sir Robert. It was a daring asser-
tion, and Sir Robert would have hardly ventured upon
making it had he known the share Lord Hervey had had
in this little ecclesiastical intrigue. Hoadly was not
deluded by Walpole, but he was the perfect dupe of the
Queen.
Lord Mahon,^ in speaking of Carolme, says that ' her
character was without a blemish.' Compared with many
around her, perhaps it was ; but if the face had not spots
it had 'patches,' which looked very much like them. On
this matter, the noble lord appears to admit that some
doubt may exist, and he subsequently adds : ' But no
doubt can exist as to her discerning and most praiseworthy
patronage of worth and learning in the Church. The
most able and pious men were everywhere sought and
preferred, and the episcopal bench was graced by such
men as Hare, Sherlock, and Butler.' Of course, Queen
Caroline's dislike of Hoadly may be set down as founded
upon that prelate's alleged want of orthodoxy. It has
been noticed in another page, that, according to Walpole,
the Queen had rather weakened than enlightened her
faith by her study of divinity, and that her Majesty herself
* was at best not orthodox.' Her countenance of the ' less-
believing' clergy is said, upon tlie same autliority, to have
been tlie effect of tlie iiifkieuce of Lady Sundon, who
* espoused the heterodox clergy.'
Lord Mahon also says that the Queen was distinguished
' Now Karl Stanhope.
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 237
for charity towards those whom she accounted her enemies.
She could nurse her rage, however, a good while to keep
it warm. Witness her feeling manifested against that
daughter of Lord Portland who married Mr. Godolphin.
Her liatred of this lady was irreconcileable, nor was the
King's of a more Christian quahty. That lady's sole offence,
however, was her acceptance of the office ' of governess
to their daughter in the late reign, without their consent,
at the time they had been tiu-ned out of St. James's, and
the education of their children, who were kept there,
taken from them.'^ For this offence the King and Queen
were very unwilling to confer a peerage and pension on
Grodolphin in 1735, when he resigned his office of groom
of the stole in the royal household. The peerage and
pension were, nevertheless, ultimately conferred at the
earnest solicitation of Walpole, and with great ill-humour
on the part of the King.
Even Walpole, with all his power and influence, was
not at this time so powerful and influential but that when
he was crossed in parliament he suffered for it at court.
Thus, when the Crown lost several supporters in the house
by adverse decisions on election petitions, the King was
annoyed, and the Queen gave expression to her own anger
on the occasion. It was rare indeed that she ever spoke
her dissatisfaction of Sir Eobert ; but on the occasion in
question she is reported as having said that Sir Eobert
Walpole either neglected these things, and judged it
enough to think they were trifles, though in government,
and especially in this country, nothing Avas a trifle, * or,
perhaps,' she said, ' there is some mismanagement I know
nothing of, or some circumstances we are none of us
acquainted with ; but, whatever it is, to me these things
seem very ill-conducted.'^
The Queen really thought that Walpole was on the
^ Lord Hervey. "^ Ibid.
238 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
point of having outlived his a])ility and liis powers to
apply it for the benefit of herself and hiksband. She
observed hira melancholy, and set it down that he was
niourninfT over his own difficulties and failures. When
Caroline, however, was told that Sir Robert was not in
sorrow because of the difficulties of government, but
simply because his mistress, Miss Skerret, was dangerously
ill of a pleuritic fever, the ' unblemished Queen ' was glad !
She rejoiced that pohtics had nothing to do with his grief,
and she was extremely well pleased to find that the prime-
minister was as immoral as men of greater and less
dignity. And then she took to satirising both the prime-
minister and the lady of his homage. She laughed at him
for believing in the attachment of a woman whose motives
must be mercenary, and who could not possibly see any
attraction in such a man but through the meshes of his
purse. ' She must be a clever gentlewoman,' said Caroline,
' to have made him believe that she cares for him on any
other score ; and to show you what fools we all are on
some point or other, she has certainly told him some fine
story or other of her love, and her passion, and that poor
man, witli his burly body, swollen legs, and villainous
stomach (" avec ce gros corps., jambes enjle,% et ce vilain
ventre'') believes her! — ah, Avhat is human nature? ' On
this rhapsody Lord Hervey makes a comment in the
spirit of Burns' verse —
Would but some god the giftie gi'e us,
To see ourselves .is ithers see us —
and it was excellent opportunity for such comment.
' While she was saying this,' remarks the noble lord, 'she
little reflected in what degree slie iicrself possessed all the
impediments and antidotes to love she had been enumera-
ting, and that, "yl/i, ivhat is human nature V was as
ap|)lical)le to her own blindness as to his.'
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 239
She certainly illustrated in her own person her asser-
tion that in government nothing was a trifle. Thus,
when what was called the Scotch Election Petition was
before parliament and threatening to give some trouble
to the ministerial side, her anxiety till the question was
decided favourably to the Crown side, and her affected in-
difference after the victory, were both marked and striking.
On the morning before the petition was presented, praying
the House of Lords to take into consideration certain
alleged illegalities in the recent election of sixteen repre-
sentative peers of Scotland — a petition which the house
ultimately dismissed — the anxiety of Caroline was so
gr^at ' to know what was said, thought, or done, or
expected on this occasion, that she sent for Lord Hervey
while she was in bed ; and because it was contrary to the
queenly etiquette to admit a man to her bedside while
she was in it, she kept him talking upon one side of the
door, which was just upon her bed, while she conversed
with him on the other for two hours together, and then
sent him to the King's side to repeat to his Majesty all he
had related to her.'^ By the King's side is meant, not his
Majesty's side of the royal couch, but the side of the
palace wherein he had his separate apartments.
It was soon after this period (1735), that the King
set out for Hanover, much against the inclination of his
ministers, who dreaded lest he should be drawn in to
conclude some engagement, when abroad, adverse to the
welfare of England. His departure, however, was wit-
nessed by Caroline with much resignation. It gave her
infinitely more power and more pleasure ; for, as regent,
she had no superior to consult or guide, and in her hus-
band's absence she had not the task of amusing a man
who was orrowing; as little amusable as Louis XIV. was
when Madame de Maintenon complained of her terrible
1 Lord Ilervey.
240 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
toil ill tliat \vay. His prospective absence of even hall" a
year's duration did not alarm Caroline, for it released her
from receiving the daily sallies of a temper that, let it be
charf^ed by what hand it would, used always to discharge
its hottest fire, on some pretence or othei-, upon her !
The Queen's enjoyment, however, was somewhat
dashed by information conveyed to her by that very hus-
band, and by which she learned that the royal reprobate,
havinty become smitten by the attractions of a young
married German lady, named Walmoden, had had the
rascality to induce her to leave her husband — a course
which she had readily adopted for the small consideration
of a thousand ducats.
This Madame Walmoden brings us back to the times
of Sophia Dorothea. Elizabeth, sister of the Countess
von Platen who brought about tlie catastrophe in which
Konigsmark perished and Sophia Dorothea was ruined,
was married, first to von Busch, and secondly to von
Weyhe (or Weyke). By this second marriage she had
a daushter, who became the wife of General von Wendt.
These von Wendts had a daughter also, who married Herr
Walmoden. It was this last lady whom the son of Sophia
Dorothea lured from her husband, and whom he ulti-
mately raised to the dignity of Countess of Yarmouth,
Not the smallest incident which marked the progress
of this infamous connection was concealed by the husband
from his wife. He wrote at length minute details of the
person of the new mistress, for whom he bespoke the
love of his own wife !
Lord Hervey thinks that the pride of the Queen was
much more hurt than her affections on this occasion;
which is not improbable, for the reasoning pubhc, to
whom the affair soon became known, at once concluded
that the rise of the new mistress would be attended with
the downfall of the influence of Caroline.
CAROLINE IVILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 24 1
The latter, however, knew well how to maintain her
influence, let who would be the object of the impure
homage of her exceedingly worthless husband. To the
letters which he addi'essed to her with particular unction,
she replied with an unction quite as rich in quality and
profuse in degree. Pure and dignified as she might seem
in discoursing with divines, listening to philosophers, re-
ceiving the metrical tributes of poets, or cavilling with
scholars, she had no objection to descend from Olympus
and find relaxation in wallowing in Epicurus' stye. Nor
did she thus condescend merely to suit a purpose and to
gain an end. Her letters, encouraging her husband in
his amours with women at Hanover, were coarse enouo"h
to have called up a blush on the cheek of one of Con-
greve's waiting-maids. They have the poor excuse tied
to them of having been written for the purpose of securing
her own power. The same apology does not apply to
the correspondenc3 with the diriy Duchess of Orleans.
Caroline appears to have indulged in the details of that
correspondence for the sake of the mere pleasure itself.
And yet she has been called a woman without blemisli !
The King's letters to her are said to have extended to
sixty, and never to less than forty, pages. They were
filled, says Lord Hervey, ' with an hourly account of every-
thing he saw, heard, thought, or did, and crammed with
minute trifling circumstances, not only unworthy of a man
to Avrite, but even of a woman to read ; most of which I
saw, and almost all of them I heard reported by Sir
Eobert Walpole, to whose perusal few were not com-
mitted, and many passages were transmitted to him by
tlie King's own order ; who used to tag several para-
graphs with " Montrez ceci et consultez ladessus le gros
hommeT Among many extraordinary things and ex-
pressions these letters contained was one in which he
desired the Queen to contrive, if she could, that the
VOL. I. R
242 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
Prince of Modena, wlio was to come at tlie latter end of
the year to Englancl, might bring his wife witli him.'
She was tlie yoimger daughter of the Eegent Duke of
Orleans. The reason which the King gave to his wife for
the request which he had made with respect to this lady
was, that he had understood the latter was by no means
particular as to what quarter or person she received
homage from, and he had the neatest inclination imactin-
able to pay his addresses to a daughter of the late Eegent
of France. ' Un plaisir,' he said — for this German hus-
band wrote even to his German wife in Fi^ench — ' que
je suis sur, ma chere Caroline, vous serez bien aise de me
procurer, quand je vous dis combien je le souhaite!' If
Wycherley had placed such an incident as this in a comedy,
he would have been censured as offending equally against
modesty and probability.
In the summer of this year. Lord Hervey was absent
for a while from attendance on Ms royal mistress ; but we
may perhaps learn from one of his letters, addressed to
her while he w^as restino- in the country from his light
laliours, the nature of his office and the way in which
Carohne was served. The narrative is given by the writer
as part of an imaginary post-obit diary, in which he
describes himself as having died on the day he left her,
and as having been repeatedly buried in the various dull
country houses by whose proprietors he was hospitably
received. lie thus proceeds : —
' But whilst my body, madam, was thus disposed of,
my spirit (as when alive) was still hovering, though in-
visible, round your Majesty, anxious for your welfare, and
watching to do you any little service that lay within my
power.
' On Monday, whilst you walked, my shade still turned
oil llie side of 1 lie sun to guard you from its beams.
'On Tuesday morning, at breakfast, I brushed away a
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 243
fly that had escaped Teed's observation ' (Teed was one of
the Queen's attendants) ' and was just going to be the
taster of your chocolate.
' On Wednesday, in the afternoon, I took off the
chillness of some strawberry- water your Majesty was
going to drink as you came in hot from walking ; and at
night I hunted a bat out of your bedcliamber, and shut a
sash just as you fell asleep, which your Majesty had a
little indiscreetly ordered Mrs. Purcel to leave open.
' On Thursday, in the drawing-room, I took the forms
and voices of several of my acquaintances, made strange
faces, put myself into awkward postures, and talked a
good deal of nonsense, whilst your Majesty entertained me
very gravely, recomme?ided mevery graciously, and laughed
at me internally very heartily.
' On Friday, being post-day, I proposed to get the
best pen in the other world for yom' Majesty's use, and
slip it invisibly into your standish just as Mr. Shaw was
bringing it into your gallery for you to write ; and ac-
cordingly I went to Voiture, and desired him to hand me
his pen ; but when I told him for whom it was designed,
he only laughed at me for a blockhead, and asked me if I
had been at court for four years to so little purpose as
not to know that your Majesty had a much better of yom^
own.
' On Saturday I went on the shaft of your Majesty's
chaise to Eichmond ; as you walked there I went before
you, and with an invisible wand I l^rushed the dew and
the worms out of your path all the way, and several times
un crumpled your Majesty's stocking.
' Sunday. — This very day, at chapel, I did your Ma-
jesty some service, by tearing six leaves out of the parson's
sermon and shortening; his discourse six minutes.'
While these imaginary services were being rendered
by the visionary Lord Hervey to the Queen, reahties more
K 2
244 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF EXGLAND.
serious and not less amusinfr were claimiiifi^ the attention
of Caroline and her consort.
In return for the information communicated by the
King to the Queen on the subject of Madame Walmoden
and her charms, Caroline had to inform her husband of
the marriage we have spoken of between Lady Suffolk
and Mr. George Berkeley. The royal ex-lover noticed
the connnunication in his reply in a coarse way, and ex-
pressed his entire satisfaction at being rid of the lady, and
at the lady's disposal of herself.
When Caroline informed her vice-chamberlain, Lord
Hervey, of the report of this marriage, his alleged dis-
belief of the report made her peevish with him, and
induced her to call him an ' obstinate devil,' who would
]iot believe merely improbable facts to be truths. Caroline
then railed at Lady Suffolk in good set terms as a sayer
and doer of silly things, entirely unworthy of the reputa-
tion she had with some people of being the sayer and doer
of wise ones.
It was on this occasion that Caroline herself described
to Lord Hervey the farewell interview she had had with
Lady Suffolk. The ex-mistress took a sentimental view
of her position, and lamented to the wife that she, the
mistress, was no longer so kindly treated as formerly by
the husband. ' I told her,' said the Queen, ' in reply, that
she and I were not of an age to think of these sort of
things in such a romantic way, and said, " My good Lady
Suffolk, you are the best servant in the world ; and, as I
should be most extremely sorry to lose you, pray take a
week to consider of this business, and give me your word
not to read any romances in tliat time, and then I dare
say you will lay aside all thoughts of doing what, believe
me, you will rei)ent, and what I am very sure I sliall be
very sorry for." ' ^^ It was at one of these conversations
^ Lord Ilcrvey.
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 245
with Lord Hervey that tlie Queen told him tliat Lady
Suffolk ' had had 2,000/. a year constantly from the King
whilst he was prince, and 3,200/. ever since he was Ivhig ;
besides several little dabs of money both before and since
he came to the crown.'
A letter of Lady Pomfret's will serve to show us not
only a picture of the Queen at this time, but an illustra-
tion of feeling in a fine lady.
Lady Pomfret, writing to Lady Sundon, in 1735, says :
' All I can say of Kensington is, that it is just the same as
it was, only pared as close as the bishop does the sacra-
ment. My Lord Pomfret and I were the greatest strangers
there ; no secretary of state, no chamberlain or vice-
chamberlain, but Lord Eobert, and he just in the same
coat, the same spot of ground, a^icl the same words in
his mouth that he had when I left there. Mrs. Meadows
in the window at work ; but, though half an hoiu" after
two, the Queen was not quite dressed, so that I had the
honour of seeing her before she came out of her little
blue room, where I was graciously received, and acquainted
her Majesty, to her great soitow, how ill you had been ;
and then, to alleviate that sorrow, I informed her how
much Sundon w\as altered for the better, and that it looked
like a castle. From thence we proceeded to a very short
drawing-room, where the Queen joked much with my
Lord Pomfret about Barbadoes. The two ladies of the
bedchamber and the governess are yet on so bad a foot,
that upon the latter coming into the room to dine Avitli
Lady Bristol, the others went awa}^, though just going to
sit down, and strangers in the place.'
The writer of this letter soon after lost a son, the
Honourable Thomas Fermor. It was a severely felt loss ;
so severe that some weeks elapsed before the disconsolate
mother was able, as she says, ' to enjoy the kind and
obliging concern ' expressed by the Queen's bedchamber-
246 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
woman in her late misfortune. Christianity itself, as this
charming mother averred, would have authorised her in
lamenting such a calamity dming the remainder of her
life ; but then, oh joy ! her maternal lamentation was put
an end to and Eachel was comforted, and all because —
' It was impossible for any behaviour to be more gi'acious
than that of the Queen on this occasion, who made it
quite fashionable to be concerned ' at the death of Lady
Pomfret's son.
But there were more bustling scenes at Kensington
than such as those described by this fashionably sorrowing
lady and the sympathising sovereign.
On Sunday, the 26th of October, the Queen and her
court had just left the little chapel in the palace of Ken-
sington, when intimation was given to her Majesty that
the King, who had left Hanover on the previous Wednes-
day, was approaching the gate. Caroline, at the head of
her ladies and the gentlemen of her suite, hastened down
to receive him ; and, as he ahghted from his ponderous
coach, she took his hand and kissed it. This ceremony
performed by the regent, a very unceremonious, hearty,
and honest kiss was impressed on his lips by the wife.
The King endured the latter without emotion, and then,
taking the Queen-regent by the fingers, he led her up-
stairs in a very stately and formal manner. In the gallery
there was a grand presentation, at which his Majesty ex-
hibited much ill-humom', and conversed with everybody
but the Queen.
Ilis ill-humour arose from various sources. He had
heated liimself by rapid and continual travelling, whereby
he had brought on an attack of a complaint to which he
was subject, which made him very ill at ease, and which
is instating enough to brealc down tiie patience of the
most patient of people.
On ordinary occasions of his return from Hanover
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 247
liis most sacred Majesty v/as generally of as sour disposition
as man so little heroic could well be. He loved the
Electorate better than lie did his kingdom, and would not
allow that there was anything in the latter wdiich coidd
not be found in Hanover of a superior quality. There
was no exception to this : men, women, artists, philo-
sophers, actors, citizens, the virtues, the sciences, and the
wits, the country, its natural beauties and productions,
the com'age of the men and the attractions of the women
— all of these in England seemed to him worthless. In
Hanover they assumed the guise of perfection.
This time he returned to his ' old ' wife laden with a
fresh sorrow — the memory of a new favourite. He had
left his heart with the insinuating Walmoden, and he
brought to his superb Carohne nothing but a tribute of
ill-humour and spite. He hated more than ever the
change from an Electorate where he was so dehghtfidly
despotic, to a country where he was only chief magistrate,
and where the people, through their representatives, kept
a very sharp watch uj^on him in the execution of liis
duties. He was accordingly as coarse and evil-disposed
towards the circle of his couil as he was to her who was
the centre of it. He, too, was like one of those pantomime
potentates who are for ever in King Cambyses' vein, and
who sweep through the scene in a whirlwind of farcically
furious words and of violent acts, or of threats almost as
bad as if the menaces had been actually reahsed. It was
observed that his behaviour to Carohne had never been so
little tinged with outward respec-t as now. She bore his
ill-hmnour with admirable patience ; and her quiet endur-
ance only the more provoked the petulance of the little
and worthless King.
He was not only ill-tempered with the mistress of the
palace, but was made, or chose to think himself, especially
angry at trifhug improvements which Carohne had carried
248 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAXD.
into effect in the suburban palace during tlie temporary
absence of its master. Tlie improvements consisted
chiefly in removing some worthless pictures and indifferent
statues and placing master-pieces in their stead. The
King would have all restored to the condition it was in
^\•hen he had last left the palace ; and he ti'eatcd Lord
Herv'ey as a fool for venturing to defend the Queen's taste
and the changes which had followed the exercise of it.
' I suppose,' said the dignified King to the courteous vice-
chamberlain, 'I suppose you assisted the Queen with your
fme advice when she was pulling my house to pieces, and
spoiling all my furniture. Thank God ! at least she has
left the walls standing ! '
Lord Hervey asked if he would not allow the two
Vandykes which the Queen had substituted for ' two sign-
posts,' to remain. George pettishly answered, that he
didn't care Avhether they were changed or no ; ' but,' he
added, ' for the picture with the dirty frame over the door,
and the three nasty little children, I will have them taken
away, and the old ones restored. I will have it d(3ne, too,
to-morrow morning, before I go to London, or else I know
it will not be done at all.'
Lord Hervey next enquired if his Majesty would also
have ' his gigantic fat Venus restored too ? ' The King
replied that he would, for he liked his fat Venus better
than anything which had been put in its place. Upon
this Lord Hervey says he fell to thinking 'that if his
Majesty had liked his fat Venus as well as he used to do,
tliere would have been none of these disputations.'
By a night's calm repose the ill-humour of the
Sovereign was not dispersed. On the following morning
we meet with the insufferable little man in the gallerj^,
where the Queen and her daughters were taking choco-
late ; her son, the Duke of Cumberland, standing by. He
only stayed five minutes, but in that short time the hus-
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 249
band and father contrived to wound the feelings of his
wife and children. ' He snubbed the Queen, who was
drinking chocolate, for being always stuffing ; the Princess
Ameha for not hearing him ; the Princess Caroline for
being grown fat ; the Duke of Cumberland for standing
awkwardly ; and then he carried the Queen out to walk,
to be re-snubbed in the garden.'^
Sir Eobert Walpole told his friend Hervey that he had
done his utmost to prepare the Queen for this change in
the King's feelings and actions towards her. He reminded
her that her personal attractions were not what they had
been, and he counselled her to depend more upon her
intellectual superiority than ever. The virtuous man
advised her to secure the good temper of the King by
throwing certain ladies in his way of an evening. Sir
Eobert mentioned, among others, Lady Tankerville, ' a
very safe fool, who would give the King some amusement
without giving her Majesty any trouble.' Lady Deloraine,
the Delia from whose rage Pope bade his readers dread
slander and poison, had already attracted the royal notice,
and the King liked to play cards with her in his daughter's
apartments. This lady, who had the loosest tongue of the
least modest women about the court, was characterised by
Walpole as likely to exercise a dangerous influence over
the King. If Caroline would retain her power, he in-
sinuated, she must select her husband's favourites, through
whom she might still reign supreme.
Carohne is said to have taken this advice in good part.
There would be difficulty in believing that it ever was
given did we not know that the Queen herself could joke,
not very delicately, in full court, on her position as a
woman not first in her husband's regard. Sir Eobert
would comment on these jokes in the same locality, and
with increase of coarseness. The Queen, however, though
^ Lord Ilervey.
250 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
she affected to laugh, was both luirt and displeased —
hurt by the joke and displeased with the joker, of whom
Swift has said, that —
By favour and fortune fastidiously blest,
He was loud in bis laugb and was coarse in bis jest.
In spite of the King's increased ill-temper towards the
Queen, and in spite of what Sir Eobert Walpole thouglit
and said upon that delicate subject, Lord Hervey main-
tains that at this very time the Eng's heart, as affected
towards the Queen, was not less warm tlian his temper.
Tlie facts which are detailed by the gentle official im-
mediately after he has made this assertion go strongly to
disprove the latter. The detail involves a rather long
extract; but its interest, and the elaborate minuteness with
which this picture of a royal interior is painted, will
doubtless be considered ample excuse for reproducing the
passages. Lord Hervey was eye and ear-witness of what
he here so well describes : —
' About nine o'clock every night the King used to
return to the Queen's apartment from .that of his
daughter's, where, from the time of Lady Suffolk's dis-
grace, he used to pass those evenings lie did not go to the
opera or play at quadrille, constraining them, tiring him-
self, and talking a httle indecently to Lady Deloraine, who
was always of the party.
' At his return to the Queen's side, the Queen used
often to send for Lord Hervey to entertain them till they
retired, which was generally at eleven. One evening
among the rest, as soon as Lord Hervey came into the
room, the Queen, who was knotting, while the King
walked backwards and forwards, began jocosely to attack
Lord Hervey upon an answer just pubHshed to a book of
his friend Bishop Hoadly's on tlie Sacrament, in which
the bishop was very ill-treated ; but l^eforc she had
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 25 I
uttered half what she had a mind to say, the King in-
terrupted her, and told her she always loved talking of
such nonsense, and things she knew nothing of ; adding,
that if it were not for such foolish people loving to talk
of these things when they were written, the fools who
■wrote upon them would never think of publishing their
nonsense, and disturbing the government with impertinent
disputes that nobody of any sense ever troubled himself
about. The Queen bowed, and said, " Sir, I only did it
to let Lord Hervey know that his friend's book had not
met with that general approbation he had pretended." "A
pretty fellow for a friend ! " said the King, turning to Lord
Hervey. " Pray what is it that charms you in him .^ His
pretty limping gait ? " And then he acted the bishop's lame-
ness, and entered upon some inipleasant defects which it is
not necessary to repeat. The stomachs of the listeners must
have been strong, if they experienced no qualm at the too
graphic and nasty detail. " Or is it," continued the King,
" his great honesty that charms your lordship ? His asking a
thing of me for one man, and when he came to have it in
his own power to bestow, refusing the Queen to give it
to the very man for whom he had asked it ? Or do you
admire his conscience, that makes him now put out a
book that, till he was Bishop of Winchester, for fear his
conscience might hurt his preferment, he kept locked up
in his chest? Is his conscience so mucli improved be-
yond what it was when he was Bishop of Bangor, or
Hereford, or Salisbury — for tliis book, I fear, was written
so long ago — or is it that he would not risk losing a shil-
ling a year more whilst there was anything better to be
got than what he had ? I cannot help saying, that if the
Bishop of Winchester is your friend, you have a great
puppy, ond a very dull fellow, and a great rascal, for
your friend. It is a very pretty thing for such scoundrels,
when they are raised by favour above their deserts, to be
^52 LIVES OF THE QUEEXS OF ENGLAND.
talking and writing their stuff, to give trouble to the
government which has shoAved them tliat Itivour ; and
ver}^ modest for a canting, li^-pocriticnl knave to be crying
that tlie Hngdoii of Christ is not of this icorld at the
same time that he, as Christ's ambassador, receives 6,000/.
or 7,000/. a year. But he is just the same thing in the
Church that he is in the government, and as ready to
receive the best pay for preaching the Bible, though he
does not believe a word of it, as he is to take favour from
the Crown, though, by his republican spirit and doctrine,
he would be glad to abohsh its power." '
There is something melancholily suggestive in thus
hearing the temporal head of a Church accusing of rank
infidelity a man whom he had raised to be an overseer
and bishop of souls in that very Church. If George
knew that Hoadly did not believe in Scriptui'e, he was
infinitely worse than the prelate for the simple fact of his
having made him a prelate, or having translated him
from one diocese to another of more importance and
more value. But, to resume : —
' During the whole time the King was speaking, the
Queen, by smiling and nodding in proper places, endea-
voured all she could, but in vain, to make her court, by
seeming to approve everything he said.' Lord Hervey
then attempted to give a pleasant turn to the conversa-
tion by remarking on prelates who were more docile
towards government than Hoadly, and who, for being
dull branches of episcopacy, and ignorant piecers of or-
thodoxy, were none the less good and quiet subjects.
From the persons of the Church the vice-chamberlain
got to the fabric, and then descanted to the Queen upon
the newly restored bi-onze gates in Henry VH/s Chapel.
This excited the King's ire anew. ' My lord,' said he,
' you are always putting some of these fine things in the
Queen's head, and then I am to be plagued with a thousand
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 253
plans and workmen.' He grew sarcastic, too, on the
Queen's grotto in Eiclimond Gardens, which was known
as Merlin's Cave., from a statue of the great enchanter
therein ; and in which there was a collection of books,
over which Stephen Duck, thresher, poet, and parson, had
been constituted librarian. The Craftsman paper had
attacked this plaything of the Queen, and her husband
was dehghted at the annoyance caused to her by such
an attack.
The poor Queen probably thought she had succeeded
in cleverly changing the topic of conversation by referring
to and expressing disapproval of the expensive habit of
giving vails to the servants of the house at wliich a person
has been visiting. She remarked that she had found it
no inconsiderable expense during the past summer to
visit her friends even in town. ' That is your own fault,'
growled the King ; ' for my father, when he went to
people's houses in town, never was fool enough to give
away his money.' The Queen pleaded that she only gave
what her chamberlain, Lord Grantham, informed her was
usual ; whereupon poor Lord Grantham came in for his full
share of censure. The Queen, said her consort, ' was al-
ways asking some fool or another what she was to do, and
that none but a fool would ask another fool's advice.'
The vice-cliamberlain gently hinted that liberality
would be expected from a Queen on such occasions as her
visits at the houses of her subjects. ' Then let her stay
at home, as I do,' said the King. ' You do not see me
running into every puppy's house to see his new chairs
and stools.' And then, turning to the Queen, he added :
' Nor is it for you to be running your nose everywhere,
and to be trotting about the town, to every fellow tliat
will give you some bread and butter, like an old girl who
loves to go abroad, no matter where, or whether it be
proper or no.' The Queen coloured, and knotted a good
254 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
deal faster during this speech than before ; whilst the
tears came into her eyes, but she said not one word.
Such is the description of Lord Hervey, and it shows
Caroline in a favourable hght. The vice-chamberlain
struck in for her, by observing that her Majesty could not
see private collections of pictures without going to the
owners' houses, and honoiunng them by her presence.
' Supposing,' said the King, ' she had a curiosity to see a
tavern, w^ould it be fit for her to satisfy it ? and yet the
innkeeper would be very glad to see her.' The vice-
chamberlain did not fail to see that this was a most illo-
gical remark, and he very well observed, in reply, that,
' if the innkeepers were used to be w^ell received by her
Majesty in her palace, he should think that the Queen's
seeing them at their own houses would give no additional
scandal.' As George found himself foiled by this obser-
vation, he felt only the more displeasure, and he gave
vent to the last by bm-sting forth into a torrent of German,
which sounded like abuse, and during the outpouring of
which 'the Queen made not one word of reply, but
knotted on till she tangled her thread, then snuffed the
candles that stood on the table before her, and snuffed
one of them out. Upon which the King, in Enghsh,
began a new dissertation upon her Majesty, and took her
awkwardness for his text.' ^
Unmoved as Caroline appeared at this degrading
scene, she felt it acutely ; but she did not wish that others
should be aware of her feelings under such a visitation.
Lord Ilervey was aware of this ; and when, on the fol-
lowing morning, she remarked that he had looked at lier
the evening before as if he thought she had been going
to cry, the courtier protested that he had neither done
the one nor thought the other, but had expressly directed
his eyes on another object, lest if they met hers, the
' Lord Ileivey.
CAROLINE VVILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 255
comicality of the scene should have set both of them
laughing.
And such scenes were of constant occurrence. The
King extracted something unpleasant from his very plea-
sures, just as acids may be produced from sugar. Some-
times he fell into a difficulty during the process. Thus,
on one occasion, when the party were again assembled for
their usual delightful evening, the Queen had mentioned
the name of a person whose father, she said, was known
to the King. It was at the time when his Majesty was
most bitterly incensed against his eldest son. Carohne
was on better terms with Frederick ; but, as she remarked,
they each knew the other too well to love or trust one
another. Well, the King hearing father and son alluded
to, observed, that ' one very often sees fathers and sous
very little alike ; a wise father has very often a fool for
his son. One sees a father a very brave man, and his son
a scoundrel ; a father very honest, and his son a great
knave ; a father a man of truth, and his son a great liar ;
in short, a father that has all sorts of good qualities, and
a son who is good for nothing.'^ The Queen and all
present betrayed, by their countenances, that they com-
prehended the historical parallel ; whereupon the King
attempted, as he thought, to make it less flagrantly appli-
cable, by running the comparison in another sense.
' Sometimes,' he said, ' the case was just the reverse, and
that very disagreeable fathers had very agreeable men
for their sons.' In this case, the King, as Lord Hervey
suggests, was thinking of his own father, as in the former
one he had been thinking of his son.
But how he drew what was sour from the sweetest
of his pleasures is shown from his remarks after havii^g
been to the theatre to see Shakspeare's ' Henry IV.'
He was tolerably well pleased with all the actors, save
1 Lord Hervey.
256 LIVES OF THE (JUEE.XS OF ENGLAND.
the ' Prince of Wales,' He had never seen, lie said, so
awkward a fellow and so mean a looking? scoundrel in
his life. Everybody'-, says Lord Hervey, who hated the
actual Prince of Wales thouj^ht of him as the Kinsj here
expressed himself of the player ; 'but all very properly
pretended to understand his Majesty literally, joined in
the censure, and abused the theatrical Prince of Wales
for a quarter of an hour together.'
It may be here noticed that Shakspeare owed some of
his reputation, at this time, to the dissensions which
existed between the King and his son. Had it, at least,
not been for this circumstance, it is not likely that
the play of ' Henry IV.' would have been so often
represented as it was at the three theatres — Lincoln's-
Inn-Fields, Covent Garden, and Drury Lane. Every
auditor knew how to make special application of the com-
plainings and sorrowings of a royal sire over a somewhat
profligate son ; or of the unfihal speeches and hypocritical
assurance of a princely heir, flung at his Sovereign and
impatient sire. The house in Lincoln's-Inn-Fields had
the reputation of being the Tory house ; and the Prince
of Wales there was probably represented as a proper
gentleman ; not out of love to h'lm^ but rather out of
contempt to the father. It was not a house which
received the favour of either Caroline or her consort.
The new pieces there ran too strongly against the despotic
rule of kings — the only sort of rule for which George at
all cared, and the lack of which made him constantly
abusive of England, her institutions, parliament, and
public men. It is difficult to say what the real opinion of
Carohne was upon this matter, for at divers times we find
lipr uttering opposite sentiments. She could be as abusive
ajjainst free institutions and civil and religious rifdits as
ever her husband was. She has been heard to declare
that sovereignty ^vas worth little where it was merely
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 257
nominal, and that to be king or queen in a country where
people governed through their parliament was to wear a
crown and to exercise none of the prerogatives which are
ordinarily attached to it. At other times she woidd
declare that the real glory of England was the result of
her free institutions ; the people were industrious and
enterprising because they were free, and knew that their
property was secure from any attack on the part of prince
or government. They consequently regarded their sove-
reign with more affection than a despotic monarch could
be regarded by a slavish people ; and she added, that she
would not have cared to share a throne in England, if the
people by whom it was surrounded had been slaves with-
out a will of their own, or without a heart that throbbed
at the name of liberty. The King never had but one
opinion on the subject, and therefore the theatre at Lincoln's-
Inn-Fields was for ever resounding with clap-traps against
despotism, and that in presence of an audience of whom
Frederick, Prince of Wales, was chief, and Bolingbroke
led the applause.
But even Drury Lane could be as democratic as Lin-
coln's Inn. Thus, in the very year of which we are
treating, Lillo brought out his ' Christian Hero ' at Drury
Lane, and the audience had as little difficulty to apply the
parts to living potentates as they had reluctance to applaud
to the echo passages like the following against despotic
rulers : —
Despotic power, that root of bitterness,
That tree of death that spreads its baleful arms
Almost from pole to pole, beneath whose cursed shade
No good thing thrives, and every ill finds shelter,
Had found no time for its detested growth
But for the follies and the crimes of men.
But ' Drury ' did not often offend in this guise, and
even George and Caroline might have gone to sec ' Junius
Brutus,' and have been amused. The Queen, who well
VOL. I. S
258 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
knew the cor]-ii])tioii of the senate, niiglit liave smiled
as Mills, in Brutus, with gravity declared that the
senators —
Have heaped no wealth, though hoary grown in honours,
and George might have silently assented to the reply of
Gibber, Jun., in ' Messala,' that —
On crowns they trample with superior pride ;
They haughtily afli'ect the pomp of princes.
The Queen's vice-chamberlain asserts that the King's
heart still beat for Caroline as warmly as his temper did
against her. This assertion is not proved, but the con-
trary, by the facts. These facts were of so painful a
nature to the Queen that she did not like to speak of
them, even to Sir Eobert Walpole. One of them is a
precious instance of the conjugal warmth of heart pledged
for by Lord Hervey.
The night before the King had last left Hanover for
England he supped gaily, in company with Madame
Walmoden and her friends, who were not so nice as to
think that the woman who had deserted her husband for
a King who betrayed his consort had at all lost caate by
such conduct. Towards the close of the banquet, the
frail lady, all wreathed in mingled tears and smiles, rose,
and gave as a toast, or sentiment, the ' next 29th of May.'
On that day the old libertine had promised to be again at
the feet of his new concubine ; and as this was known to
the select and delicate company, they drank the ' toast '
amid shouts of loyalty and congratulations.
The knowledge of this ft\ct gave more pain to Caroline
than all the royal fits of ill-humour together. The pain
was increased by the King's conduct at home. It had
been his custom of a morning, at St. James's, to tarry in
the Queen's rooms until after he had, from behind the
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 259
blinds, seen the guard relieved in the court-yard below :
this took place about eleven o'clock. This year he ceased
to visit the Queen or to watch the soldiers ; but by nine
o'clock in the morning he was seated at his desk, writing
lengthy epistles to Madame Walmoden, in reply to the
equally long letters from the lady, who received and
despatched a missive every post.
' He wants to go to Hanover, does he ? ' asked Sir
Robert Walpole of Lord Hervey ; ' and to be there by the
29th of May. Well, he shan't go for all that.'
Domestic griefs could not depress the Queen's wit.
An illustration of this is afforded by her remark on the
Triple Alliance. ' It always put her in mind,' she said, ' of
the South Sea scheme, which the parties concerned entered
into, not without knowing the cheat, but hoping to make
advantage of it, everybody designing, when he had made
his own fortune, to be the first in scrambling out of it,
and each thinking himself wise enough to be able to leave
his fellow-adventurers in the lurch.'
It has been well observed that the King's good humour
was now as insulting to her Majesty as his bad. When
he was in the former rare vein, he exhibited it by enter-
taining the Queen with accounts of her rival, and the
many pleasures which he and that lady had enjoyed
together. He appears at Hanover to have been as extra-
vagant in the entertainments which he gave as his
grandfather, Ernest Augustus. Some of these court
revels he caused to be painted on canvas ; the ladies
represented therein were all portraits of the actual revellers.
Several of such pictures were brought over, to England,
and five of them were hung up in the Queen's dressing-
room. Occasionally, of an evening, the King would take
a candle from the Queen's table, and go from picture to
picture, with Lord Hervey, telling him its history, explain-
ing the joyous incidents, naming the persons represented,
s 2
26o LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
aud detailing all that had been said or done on the ])articular
occasion before them. 'During which lecture,' says the
vice-chamberlain himself, ' Lord Hervey, while peeping
over his Majesty's shoulders at those pictures, was
shrugging up his own, and now and then stealing a look,
to make faces at the Queen, who, a little angry, a little
peevish, and a little tired at her husband's absurdity, and
a little entertained with his lordship's grimaces, used to sit
and knot in a comer of the room, sometimes yawning, and
sometimes smiling, and equally afraid of betraying those
signs, either of her lassitude or mirth.'
In the course of the year which we have now reached.
Queen Caroline communicated to Lord Hervey a fact,
which is not so much evidence of her Majesty's common-
sense, as of the presumption and immorality of those who
gave Caroline little credit for having even the sense which
is so qualified. Lord Bolingbroke had married the
Marchioness de Villette, niece of Madame de Maintenon,
about the year 1716. The union, however, was not only
kept secret for many years, but when Bohngbroke was
under attainder, and a sum of 52,000/. belonging to his
wife was in the hands of Decker, the banker, Lady
Bolingbroke swore that she was not married to him, and
so obtained possession of a sum which, being hers, Avas
her husband's, and which being her husband's, who was
attainted as a traitor, was forfeit to the Crown. However,
as some of it went through the hands of poor Sophia
Dorothea's rival, the easy Duchess of Kendal, and her
rapacious niece. Lady Walsingham, the matter was not
enquired into. Subsequently Lady Bolingbroke attempted
to excuse her husband's alleged dealings with the Pretender,
by asserting that he entered into them solely for the
purpose of serving the Court of London. ' That was, in
short,' said Carolme to Lord Hervey, ' to betray the
Pretender ; for tliough Madame de Villette softened the
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 26 1
word, she did not soften the thing, which I own,' continued
the Queen, ' was a speech which had so much impudence
and villainy mixed up in it, that I could never bear him or
her from that hour, and could hardly hinder myself from
saying to her — " And pray, madam, what security can the
King have that my Lord Bolingbroke does not desire to
come here with the same honest desire that he went to
Eome ? or that he swears that he is no longer a Jacobite,
with any more truth than you have sworn you are not his
wife ? " ' The only wonder is, considering Caroline's
vivacious character, that she restrained herself from giving
expression to her thoughts. She was eminently fond of
' speaking daggers ' to those who merited such a gladiatorial
visitation.
262 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
CHAPTER V.
THE MARRIAGE OF FREDERICK, PRINCE OF WALES.
The Queen's cleverness — Princess Augusta of Saxe Gotha, the selected bride
of Prince Frederick — Spirited conduct of Miss Vane, the Prince's mistress
— The King anxious for a matrimonial alliance with the Court of Prussia
— Prussian intrigue to prevent this — The Prussian mnndats for entrap-
ping recruits — Quarrel, and challenge to duel, between King George and
the Prussian monarch — -The silly duel prevented — Arrival of the bride —
The royal lovers — Disgraceful squabbles of the Princes and Princesses —
The marriage — Brilliant assemblage in the bridal chamber — Lady Diana
Spencer proposed as a match for the Prince — Dehut of Mr. Pitt, after-
wards Lord Chatham, in the House of Commons — Riot of the footmen
at Drury Lane Theatre — Ill-humour exhibited by the Prince towards
the Queen.
The Queen never exhibited her cleverness in a clearer hght
than when, in 1735, she got over the expected difficulty
arising from a threatened parliamentary address to the
throne for the marriage and settlement of the Prince of
Wales. She ' crushed ' it, to use the term employed by
Lord Hervey, by gaining the King's consent — no difficult
matter — to tell the prince that it was his royal sire's inten-
tion to marry him forthwith. The King had no princess
in view for him ; but was ready to sanction any choice
he might think proper to make, and the sooner the better.
As if the thing were already settled, the Queen, on her
side, talked publicly of the coming marriage of the heir-
apparent ; but not a word was breathed as to the person
of the bride. Caroline, moreover, to give the matter a
greater air of reality, ])urc]iased clothes for the wedding of
her son with the yet ' invisible lady,' and sent perpetually
CAROLINE IVILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 263
to jewellers to get presents for the ideal future Princess
of Wales.
The lady, however, was not a merely visionary bride.
It was during the absence of the King in Hanover that it
was delicately contrived for him to see a marriageable
princess — Augusta of Saxe Gotha. He approved of what
he saw, and wrote home to the Queen, bidding her to
prepare her son for the bridal.
Caroline communicated the order to Frederick, who
received it with due resignation. His mother, who had
great respect for outward observances, counselled him to
begin his preparations for marriage by sending away his
ostentatiously maintained favourite^ Miss Vane. Frederick
pleased his mother by dismissing Miss Vane, and then
pleased himself by raising to the vacant bad eminence
Lady Archibald Hamilton, a woman of thirty-five years of
age and the mother of ten children. The prince visited
her at her husband's house, where he was as well received
by the master as by the mistress. He saw her constantly
at her sister's, rode out with her, walked with her daily
for hours in St. James's Park, ' and, whenever she was at
the drawing-room (which was pretty fi'equently), his
behaviour was so remarkable that his nose and her ear
were inseparable, whilst, without discontinuing, he would
talk to her as if he had rather been relating than con-
versing, from the time he came into the room to the
moment he left it, and then seemed to be rather interrupted
than to have finished.' ^
The first request made by Lady Archibald to her royal
lover was, that he would not be satisfied with putting away
Miss Vane ; but that he would send her out of the country.
The prince did not hesitate a moment ; lie sent a royal
message, wherein he was guilty of an act of which no man
would be guilty to the woman whom he had loved. The
* Lord Hervey.
264 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
message was taken by Ijord Baltimore, who bore pro})osals,
ofTeiing an annuity of 1,G00/. a year to the hidy, on condi-
tion that she would proceed to the continent, and give up
the little son which owed to her the disgrace of his birth,
but to whom both she and the prince were most affection-
ately attached. The alternative was starvation in England.
Miss Vane had an old admirer, to whom she sent in the
hour of adversity, and who w^as the more happy to aid her
in her extremity as, by so doing, he would not only have
some claim on lier gratitude, but that he could, to the
utmost of his heart's desire, annoy the prince, whom he
intensely despised.
Lord Hervey sat down, and imagining himself for the
nonce in the place of Miss Vane, he wrote a letter in that
lady's name. The supposed writer softly i-eproved the
fickle prince, reminded him of the fond old times ere love
yet had expired, resigned herself to the necessity of sacri-
ficing her own interests to that of England, and then
running over the sacrifices which a foolish woman must
ever make — of character, friends, family, and peace of mind
■ — for the fool or knave whom she loves with more irregu-
larity than wisdom, she burst forth into a tone of indignation
at the mingled meanness and cruelty of which she was now
made the object, and finally refused to leave either England
or her child, spurning the money offered by the father,
and preferring any fate which might come, provided she
were not banished from the presence and the love of her
boy.
Frederick was simple enough to exhibit this letter to
his mother, sisters, and friends, observing at the same time
that it was far too clever a production to come from the
hand of Miss Vane, and that he would not give her a
farthing until she had revealed the name of the ' rascal '
who had written it. The author was popularly set down
as being Mr. Pulteney.
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA, 265
On the otlier hand, Miss Vane pubUshed the prince's
offer to her, and therewith her own letter in reply. The
world was unanimous in condemning him as mean and
cruel. Not a soul ever thought of finding fault with him
as immoral. At length a compromise was effected. The
prince explained away the cruel terms of his own epistle,
and Miss Vane withdrew what was painful to him in hers.
The pension of 1,600/. a year was settled on her, with which
she retired to a mansion in Grosvenor Street, her little son
accompanying her. But the anxiety she had undergone
had so seriously affected her health that she was very soon
after compelled to proceed to Bath. The waters were not
healing waters for her. She died in that city, on the 11th
of March 17 36, having had one felicity reserved for her in
her decline, the inexpressible one of seeing her little son
die before her. ' The Queen and the Princess Caroline,'
says Lord Hervey, ' thought the prince more afflicted for
the loss of this child than they had ever seen him on any
occasion, or thought liim capable of being.'
One of the most cherished projects of George the Second
was the union by marriage of two of his own children with
two of the children of the King of Prussia. Such an
alliance would have bound more intimately the descendants
of Sophia Dorothea through her son and daughter. The
double marriage was proposed to the King of Prussia, in
the name of the King of England, by Sir Charles Hotham,
minister-plenipotentiary. George proposed that his eldest
son, Frederick, should marry the eldest daughter of the
King of Prussia, and that his second daughter should marry
the same King's eldest son. To these terms the Prussian
monarch would not agree, objecting that if he gave his
eldest daughter to the Prince of Wales, he must have the
eldest, and not the second, daughter of George and Caroline
for the Prince of Prussia. Caroline would have agreed to
these terms ; but George would not yield : the proposed
266 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
intermarriages were broken off, and the two courts were
estranged for years.
The Prussian princess, Frederica Wilhelmina, has pub-
Ushed the memoirs of her hfe and times ; and Eanke,
quoting them in liis • History of the House of Branden-
bui'gh,' enters hirgely into the matrimonial question, which
was involved in mazes of diplomacy. Into the latter it is
not necessary to enter ; but to those who would know the
actual causes of the failure of these proposed royal mar-
riages the following passage from Ranke's work will not
be without interest : —
' Whatever be their exaggerations and errors, the
memoirs of the Princess Frederica Wilhelmina must always
be considered as one of the most remarkable records of
the state of the Prussian court of that period. From these
it is evident that neither she herself, nor the Queen, had
the least idea of the grounds which made the King reluc-
tant to give an immediate consent to the proposals. They
saw in him a domestic tyrant, severe only towards his
family, and weak to indifferent persons. The hearts on
both sides became filled with l)itterness and aversion. The
Crown Prince, too, who was still of an age when young
men are obnoxious to the influence of a clever elder sister,
was infected with these sentiments. With a view to pro-
mote her marriage, he suffered himself to be induced to
draw up in secret a formal declaration that he would give
his hand to no other than an English princess. On the
other hand, it is inconceivable to what measures the other
party liad recourse, in order to keep the King steady to
his resolution. Seckendorf had entirely won over General
Grumbkoo, the King's daily and confidential companion,
to Ills side ; both of them kept up a correspondence of a
revolting nature witli Peichenbach, the Prussian resident
in London. This Keichenbacli, who boasts somewhere of
his indifference to outward honours, and wlio was, at all
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 267
events, cliiefly deficient in an inward sense of honour, not
only kept up a direct correspondence with Seckendorf, in
which he informed him of all that was passing in England
in relation to tJie marriage, and assured the Austrian agent
that he might reckon on him as on himself; but, what is
far worse, he allowed Grumbkoo to dictate to him what he
was to write to the King, and composed his despatches
according to his directions. It is hardly conceivable that
these letters should not have been destroyed ; they were,
however, found among Grinnbkoo's papers at his death.
Eeichenbach, who played a subordinate part, but who
regarded himself as the third party to this conspiracy,
furnished on his side facts and arguments which were to
be urged orally to the King, in support of his statements.
Tlieir system was to represent to the King that the only
purpose of England was to reduce Prussia to tl]_e condition
of a province, and to turn a party around him that might
fetter and control all his actions ; representations to which
Frederick William was already disposed to lend an ear.
He wished to avoid having an EnglisJi daughter-in-law
because he feared he should be no longer master in his own
house ; perhaps she would think herself of more importance
than he ; he should die, inch by inch, of vexation. On
comparing these intrigues, carried on on either side of the
Kino;, we must admit that the former — those in liis own
family — were the more excusable, since their sole object
was the accomplishment of those marriages, upon the mere
suspicion of which the King broke out into acts of violence
which terrified his family and his kingdom and astonished
Europe. The designs of the other party were far more
serious ; their purpose was to bind Prussia in every point
to the existing system, and to keep her aloof from England.
Of this the King had no idea ; he received without suspi-
cion whatever Eeichenbach wrote or Grumbkoo reported
to him.'
268 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
The mutual friends, whose interest it was to keep
Piussia and England wide apart, laboured with a zeal
worthy of a better cause, and not only broke the proposed
marriages, but made enemies of the two Kings. A dispute
was built up between them touching Mecklenburgh ; and
Prussian press-gangs and recruiting parties crossed into the
Hanoverian territory, and carried off or inveigled the
King of England's Electoral subjects into the military ser-
vice of Prussia. This was the most outrageous insult that
could have been devised against the English monarch, and
it was the most cruel that could be inflicted upon the
inhabitants of the Electorate.
The King of Prussia was not nice of his means for
entrapping men, nor careful on whose territory he seized
them, provided only they were obtained. The districts
touching on the Prussian frontier were kept in a constant
state of alarm, and border frays were as frequent and as
fatal as they were on England and Scotland's neutral
ground, which derived its name from an oblique application
of etymology, and was so called because neither country's
faction hesitated to commit murder or robbery upon it.
I have seen in the inns near these frontiers some strange
memorials of these old times. Those I allude to are in
the shape of viandats, or directions, issued by the autho-
rities, and they are kept framed and glazed, old curiosities,
like the ancient way-bill at the Swan at York, which
announces a new fast coach travelling to London, God
willing, in a week. These mandats, which were very
common in Hanover when Frederick, after refusing the
English alliance, took to sending his Werbers^ or recruiters,
to lay hold of such of the j^eople as were likely to make
good tall soldiers, were to this effect : they enjoined all the
dwellers near the frontiers to be provided with arms and
ammunition ; the militia to hold themselves ready against
any surprise ; the arms to be examined every Sunday by
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 269
the proper authorities ; watch and ward to be maintained
day and night ; patrols to be active ; and it was ordered,
that, the instant any strange soldiers were seen approaching,
the alarum-bells should be sounded and preparations be
made for repelling force by force. The Prussian Werbers,
as they were called, were wont sometimes to do their
spiriting in shape so questionable that the most anti-
belhgerent travellers and the most unwarlike and well-
intentioned bodies were liable to be fired upon if their
characters were not at once explained and understood.
These were times when Hanoverians, who stood in fear of
Prussia, never lay down in bed but with arms at their
side ; times Avhen young peasants who, influenced by soft
attractions, stole by night from one village to another to
pay their devoirs to bright eyes waking to receive them,
walked through perils, love in their hearts, and a musket
on their shoulders. The enrollers of Frederick, and indeed
those of his great son after him, cast a chill shadow of fear
over every age, sex, and station of life.
In the meantime the two Kings reviled each other as
coarsely as any two dragoons in tlieir respective services.
The quarrel was nursed until it was proposed to be settled,
not by diplomacy, but by a duel. When this was first
suggested, the place, but not the time, of meeting, was
immediately agreed upon. The territory of Hildesheim
was to be the spot whereon were to meet in deadly com-
bat two monarchs — two fathers, who could not quietly
arrange a marriage between their sons and daughters. It
really seemed as if the blood of Sophia Dorothea of Zell
was ever to be fatal to peace and averse from connubial
felicity.
The son of Sopliia Dorothea selected Brigadier-
General Sutton for liis second. Her son-in-law (it will
be remembered that he had married that unhappy lady's
daughter) conferred a similar honour on Colonel Derschein.
270 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
His Eiiiilisli ]\Iajcsty was to proceed to tlie designated arena
from Uanover ; Frederick was to make his way tbitlier
from Saltzdhal, near Brunswick. The two Kings of Brent-
ford could not have looked more ridiculous than these
two. They would, undoubtedly, have crossed weapons,
liad it not been for the strong common sense of a Prussian
diplomatist, named Borck. ' It is quite right and exceed-
ingly dignified,' said Borck one day, to his master, when
the latter was foaming with rage against George the
Second, and expressing an eager desire for fixing a near
day whereon to settle their quarrel — ' it is most fitting
and seemly, since your Majesty will not marry with Eng-
land, to cut the throat, if possible, of the English monarch ;
but your faithful servant would still advise your Majesty
not to be over-hasty in fixing the day : ill-luck might
come of it.' On being urged to show how this might be,
he remarked — ' Your gracious Majesty has lately been
ill, is now far from well, and might, by naming an early
day for voidance of this quarrel, be unable to keep the
appointment.' ' We would name another,' said the King.
' And in the meantime,' observed Borck, ' all Europe
generally, and Geoi'ge of England in particular, would be
smiling, laughing, commenting on, and ridiculing the King
who failed to appear where he had promised to be
present with his sword. Your Majesty must not expose
your sacred person and character to such a catastrophe
as this : settle nothing till there is certainty that the
pledge will be kept ; and, in the meantime, defer naming
the day of battle for a fortnight.'
The advice of Borck was followed, and of course
the fight never ' cam^e ofl'.' The ministers of both go-
vernments exerted themselves to save their respective
masters from rendering themselves supremely, and
})erhaps sanguinarily, ridiculous — for tlie blood of both
would not have washed out the absurdity of the thing.
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 27 1
Choler abated, common-sense came up to the smface,
assumed the supremacy, and saved a couple of foolish
kings from slaying or mangling each other. George,
however, was resolved, and that for more reasons than it
is necessary to specify, that a wife must be found for his
heir-apparent ; and it was Caroline who directed him to
look at the princesses in the small and despotic court of
Saxe Gotha. Walpole was the more anxious that the
Prince of Wales should be fittingly matched, as a report
had reached him that Frederick had accepted an offer
from the Duchess of Mailborough of a hundred thousand
pounds and the hand of her favourite grand-daughter.
Lady Diana Spencer. The marriage, it was said, was to
come off privately, at the duchess's lodge in Eichmond
Park.
Lord Delawar, who was sent to demand the hand of
the Princess Augusta from her brother, the Duke of Saxe
Gotha, was long, lank, awkward, and unpolished. There
was no fear here of the catastrophe which followed on
the introduction to Francesca da Eimini of the handsome
envoy whom she mistook for her bridegroom, and with
whom she fell in love as soon as she beheld him.
Walpole, writing from King's College on the 2nd of
May 1736, says : 'I believe the princess will have more
beauties bestowed upon her by the occasional poets than
even a painter would afford her. They will cook up a new
Pandora, and in the bottom of the box enclose Hope — that
all they have said is true. A great many, out of excess
of good breeding, who have heard that it was rude to
talk Latin before women, i^roposed complimenting her in
English ; which she will be much the better for. I
doubt most of them, instead of fearing their compositions
should not be understood, should fear they should ; they
wish they don't know what to be read by they don't
know who.'
272 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
When tlie King despatched some half dozen lords of
his council to propose to the prince that he should
espouse the youthful Princess Augusta, he replied, with a
tone of mingled duty and indifference, something like
Captain Absolute in the play, that ' whoever his Majesty
tliought a proper match for his son would be agreeable
to him.'
The match was straightway resolved upon ; and as the
young lady knew little of French and less of English, it
was suggested to her mother that a few lessons in both
languages would not be throv/n away. The Duchess of
Saxe Gotha, however, was wiser in her own conceit than
her officious counsellors ; and remembering that the
Hanoverian family had been a score of years, and more,
upon the throne of England, she very naturally concluded
that the people all spoke or understood German, and that
it would really be needlessly troubling the child to make
her learn two languages, to acquire a knowledge of which
would not be worth the pains spent upon the labour.
When princesses then espoused heirs to thrones they
were treated but with very scanty ceremony. Their own
feehngs were allowed to exercise very little influence in
the matter ; there was no pleasant wooing time ; the
bridegroom did not even give himself the trouble to seek
the bride — he does not always do so, even now ; and
when the bride married the deputy who was despatched to
espouse her by proxy, she knew as little of the principal
as she did of his representative. But the blooming young
Princess of Saxe Gotha submitted joyfully to custom and
the chance of becoming Queen of England. She was
willing to come and win what the Prince of Wales, had
not dignity made him ungallant, should have gone and
laid at her feet and besought her to accept. Accordingly,
the royal yacht, Willia/ii and Mary, destined to carry
many a less noble fieight before its career was completed,
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 273
bore the bride to our shores. When Lord Delawar
handed the bride ashore at Greenwich, on the 25th of April
1736, she excited general admiration by heF~tresTi air,
good hninonr, and tasteful dress. It was St. George's
day ; no inauspicious day whereon landing should be
made in England by the young girl of seventeen, who
was to be the mother of the first king born and bred in
England since the birthday of James II.
The royal bride was conducted to the Queen's house
in the park, where, as my fair readers, and indeed all
readers with equal good sense and a proper idea of the
fitness of things, will naturally conclude that all the royal
family had assembled to welcome, with more than
ordinary warmth, one who came among them under
circumstances of more than ordinary interest. But the
truth is tliat there* was no one to give her welcome but
solemn officers of state and criticising ladies-in-waiting.
The people were there of course, and the princess had no
cause to complain of any lack of warmth on their part.
For want of better company, she spent half an hour with
the EngUsh commonalty ; and as she sat in the balcony
overlooking the park, the gallant mob shouted themselves
hoarse in her praise, and did her all homage until the
tardy lover arrived, whose own peculiar homage lie
should have been in a little more lover-like haste to pay.
However, Frederick came at last, and he came alone.
The King, Queen, duke, and princesses sent ' their com-
pliments, and hoped she was well ! ' They could not have
sent or said less had she been Griselda, fresh from her
native cottage and about to become the bride of the
prince without tlieir consent and altogether without their
will. But the day was Sunday, and perhaps those dis-
tinguished personages were reluctant to indulge in too
much expansion of feeling on the sacred day.
On the following day, Monday, Greenwich was as much
VOL. 1. T
2 74 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
alive as it used to be on a fine fair-day ; for the princess
dined in public, and all the world was there to see her.
That is to say, she and the prince dined together in an
apartment the mndows of which were thrown open ' to
obhge the curiosity of the people ; ' and it is only to be
hoped that the springs of the period were not such incle-
ment seasons as those generally known by the name of
spring to us. Tlie people having stared their fill, and the
princess having banqueted as comfortably as she could
under such circimistances, the Prince of Wales took her
down to the water, led her into a gaily decorated barge,
and slowly up the river went the lovers — ^with horns
playing, streamers flying, and under a fusillade from old
stocks of old guns, the modest artillery of colliers and
Other craft anxious to render to the pair the usual noisy
honours of the way. They returned to Greenwich in like
manner, similarly honoured, and there, having supped in
public, the prince kissed her hand, took his leave, and
promised to return upon the morrow.
On the Tuesday the already enamoured Frederick
thought better of his engagement, and tarried at home
till the princess arrived there. She had left Greenwich
in one of the royal carriages, from which she ahghted at
Lambeth, where, taking boat, she crossed to Wliitehall.
Here one of Queen Caroline's state chairs was awaiting
her, and in it she was borne, by two stout carriers, plump
as Cupids but more vigorous, to St. James's Palace. The
reception here was magnificent and tasteful. On the
arrival of the bride, the bridegroom, already tliere to
receive her, took her by the hand as she stepped out of
the chair, softly checked the motion she made to kneel
to him and kiss his hand, and, drawing her to him,
gallantly impressed a kiss — nay two, for the record is
very precise on this matter — upon her hps. All confusion
and happiness, the illustrious couple ascended the stair-
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 275
case hand in hand. The prince led her into the presence
of a splendid and numerous court, first introducing her to
the King, who would not suffer her to kneel, but, putting
his arm around her, saluted her on each cheek. Queen
Caroline greeted as warmly the bride of her eldest son ;
and the Duke of Cumberland and the princesses congra-
tulated her on her arrival in terms of warm affection.
The King, who had been irritably impatient for the
arrival of the bride, and had declared that the ceremony
should take place without him if it were not speedily
concluded, was softened by the behaviour of the youthful
princess on her fii'st appearing in his presence. ' She
threw herself all along on the floor, first at the King's
and then at the Queen's feet. ' ^ This prostration was
known to be so acceptable a homage to his Majesty's
pride, that, joined to the propriety of her whole behaviour
on this occasion, it gave the spectators great prejudice in
favour of her understanding.
The poor young princess, who came into England un-
accompanied by a single female friend, behaved with a
propriety and ease which won the admiration of Walpole
and the sneers of old ladies who criticised her. Her self-
possession, joined as it was with modesty, showed that
she was ' well-bred.' She was not irreproachable of
shape or carriage, but she was fair, youthful, and sen-
sible — much more sensible than the bridegroom, who
quarrelled with his brothers and sisters, in her very pre-
sence, upon the right of sitting down and being waited
on in such presence !
The squabbles between the brothers and sisters touch-
ing etiquette show the extreme littleness of the minds of
those who engaged in them. The prince would have had
them, on the occasion of their dining with himself and
bride the day before the wedding, be satisfied with stools
^ Lord Hervey.
T 2
2/6 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
instead of chairs, and consent to being served with some-
tliing less tlian the measure of respect shown to him and
the bride. To meet this, tliey refused to enter the dining-
room till the stools were taken away and chairs substi-
tuted. They then were waited upon by their own ser-
vants, who had orders to imitate the servants of the
Prince of Wales in every ceremony used at table. Later
in the evening, when coffee was brought roimd by the
prince's servants, his visitors declined to take any, out of
fear that their brother's domestics might have had instruc-
tions to inflict ' some disgrace (had they accepted of any)
in the manner of giving it ! '
On the day of the arrival of the biide at St. James's,
after a dinner of some state, and after some rearrange-
ment of costume, the ceremony of marriage was per-
formed, under a running salute from artillery, which told
to the metropolis the progress made in the nuptial solem-
nity. The bride ' was in her hair,' and wore a crown
with one bar, as Princess of Wales, a profusion of diamonds
adding lustre to a youthful bearing that could have done
without it. Over her white robe she wore a mantle of
crimson velvet, bordered with row upon row of ermine.
Her train was supported by four ' maids,' three of whom
were daughters of dukes. They were Lady Caroline
Lennox, daughter of tlie Duke of Richmond ; Lady Caro-
line Fitzroy, daughter of the Duke of Grafton ; Lady
Caroline Cavendish, daughter of the Duke of Devonshire,
— and with the three bridesmaids who bore the name
of the Queen was one who bore that of her whom the
King had looked upon as really Queen of England — of
Sophia, his mother. This fourth lady was Lady Sophia
Fermor, daughter of the Earl of Pomfret. Excepting the
mantle, the ' maids ' Avere dressed precisely similar to the
* bride ' whom they surrounded and served. They were
all in ' virmn habits of silver.' h]:ich bridesmaid wore
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 277
diamonds of the value of from twenty to thirty tliousand
pounds.
The Duke of Cumberland performed the office of
father to the bride, and they were ushered to the altar
by tlie Duke of Grafton and Lord Hervey, the lord and
vice-chamberlains of the household. The Countess of
Effingham and the other ladies of the household left the
Queen's side to swell the following of the bride. The
Lord Bishop of London, Dean of the Chapel Eoyal,
officiated on this occasion ; and when he pronoimced the
two before him to have become as one, voices in harmony
arose within, the trumj^ets blazoned forth their edition
of the event, the drums rolled a deafening peal, a clash
of instruments followed, and above all boomed the thunder
of the cannon in the park, telling in a million echoes of
the conclusion of the irrevocable compact. A little cere-
mony followed in the King's drawing-room, which was
in itself appropriate, and which seemed to have heart in
it. On the assembling there of the entire bridal party,
the newly-married couple went, once more hand in
hand, and kneeling before the King and his consort, who
were seated at the upper end of the room, the latter
solemnly gave their blessing to their children and bade
them be happy.
A royally joyous supper succeeded, at half-past ten,
where healths were drunk and a frolicsome sort of spirit
maintained, as was common in those somewliat 'com-
mon ' times. And then followed a sacred portion of
the ceremony, which is now considered as being more
honoured in the breach tlian the observance. The bride
was conducted processionally to her sleeping apartment ;
while the prince was helped to disrobe by his royal sire,
and his brother the duke. The latter aided in divesting
him of some of his heavy finery, and the King very
gravely ' did his royal highness, the prince, the honour
2yS LIVES OF THE (lUEENS OF ENGLAND.
to put ou his sliirt.' All this must have been considered
more than nuisance enough by the parties on whom it was
jnllicted by way of honour, but the newly-married victims
of that day had much more to endure.
When intimation had been duly made that the
princess had been undressed and re-dressed by her maids,
and was seated in the bed ready to receive all customary
and suitable lionour, the King and Queen entered the
chamber. The former was attired in a dress of gold
brocade, turned up with silk, embroidered with large
flowers in silver and colours, with a waistcoat of the
same, and buttons and star dazzling with diamonds.
Caroline was in ' a plain yellow silk, robed and faced
with 23earls, diamonds, and otlier jev/els, of immense
value. The Dukes of Newcastle, Grafton, and St. Albans,
the Earl of Albemarle, Colonel Pelham, and many other
noblemen, were in gold brocades of from three to five
hundred pounds a suit. The Duke of Marlborough was
in a white velvet and gold brocaded tissue. The waist-
coats were universally brocades with large flowers. It
was observed,' continues the court historiographer, ' most
of the rich clothes were of the manufactures of England,
and in honour of our own artists. The few which were
French did not come up to those in goodness, richness,
or fancy, as was seen by the clothes worn by the royal
fiimily, which were all of the British manufacture. The
cuffs of the sleeves were universally deep and open, tlie
waists long, and the plaits more sticking out than ever.
The ladies were principally in brocades of gold and
silver, and wore their sleeves much lower than had been
done for some thne.'
When all these finely dressed people were assembled,
and the bride was sitting upright in bed, in a dress of
superb lace, the princely bridegroom entered, ' in a night-
gown of silver stuff and cap of the finest lace.' lie must
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 279
have looked like a facetious prince in a Christmas extra-
vaganza. However, he took his place by the side of the
bride ;. and while both sat ' bolt upright ' in bed, the
' quality ' generally were admitted to see the sight, and
to smile at the edifying remarks made by the King and
other members of the royal family who surrounded the
couch.
The record of this happy event would hardly be com-
plete were we to omit to notice that it was made the
occasion of a remarkable cUhut in the House of Commons.
An address congratulatory of the marriage was moved by
Mr. Lyttelton, and the motion was seconded by Mr. Pitt,
subsequently the first Earl of Chatham, who then made
his first speech in parliament. The speech made by
Lyttelton was squeaking and smart. Tliat of Cornet
Pitt, as he was called, was so favourable to the virtues of
the son, and, by imphcation, so insulting to the person of
the father, that it laid the foundation of the lasting enmity
of George against Pitt — an enmity the malevolence of
which was first manifested by depriving Pitt of his
cornetcy. The poets were, of course, as polite as the
senators, and epithalamia rained upon the happy pair in
showers of highly complimentary and very indifferent
verse. The lines of Whitehead, the laureate, were toler-
ably good, for a laureate, and the following among them
have been cited ' as containing a wish which succeeding
events fully gratified.'
Such was the age, so calm the earth's repose,
When Maro sung and a new PoUio rose.
Oh ! from such omens may again succeed
Some glorious youth to grace the nuptial bed ;
Some future Scipio, good as well as great,
Some young Marcellus with a better fate :
Some infant Frederick, or some George, to grace
The rising records of the Brunswick race.
If these set ringing the most harmonious of the
28o LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
echoes whicli Parnassus c(3uld raise on the occasion, the
other metrical essays must have been wrretched things
indeed. But the Muse at that time was not a refined
muse. If a laureate would only find rhyme, decency
and logic were gladly dispensed with.
The prince was very zealous and painstaking in intro-
ducing his bride to the people. For this purpose they
were often together at the theatre. On one of these
occasions the princess must have had but an iudifierent
idea of the civilisation of the people over whom she fairly
expected one day to reign as queen-consort. The occasion
alluded to was on the 3rd of May 1736, when great num-
bers of footmen assembled, with weapons, in a tumidtuous
manner, broke open the doors of Drury Lane Theatre,
and fighting their way to the stage-doors, which they
forced open, they prevented the Riot Act being read by
Colonel de Veal, who nevertheless arrested some of the
ringleaders and committed them to Newgate. In this
tumult, founded on an imaginary grievance that the foot-
men had been illegally excluded from the gallery, to
which they claimed to go gratis, many persons were
severely wounded, and the terrified audience hastily sepa-
rated ; the prince and princess, with a large number of
persons of distinction, retiring when the tumult was at
its highest. The Princess of Wales had never witnessed
a popular tumult before ; and, tliough this was ridiculous
in character, it was serious enough of aspect to disgust
her with that part of ' the majesty of the people ' which
was covered with plush.
The King, in spite of Sir Robert Walpole's threat,
proceeded to Hanover in the month of May. Before he
quitted England he sent word to his son that, wherever
the Queen Regent resided, there would be apartments for
the Prince and Princess of Wales. Frederick looked upon
this measure in its true light, namely, as making him a
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 251
sort of prisoner, and preventing the possibility of two
separate courts in the King's absence. The prince deter-
mined to disobey his father and thwart his mother. When
the Queen removed from one residence to another, he
feigned preparations to follow her, and then feigned ob-
structions to them. He pleaded an illness of the princess
which did not exist, and was surprised that his medical
men declined to back up his lie by another of their own.
The Queen on her side, feigning anxious interest in her
daughter-in-law, visited her in her imaginary illness ; but
the patient, who was first said to be suffering from measles,
then from a rash, and finally was declared to be really
indisposed with a cold, was kept in a darkened room, and
was otherwise so trained to deceive that Caroline left the
bed-side as wise as when she went to it. In this conduct
towards his mother Frederick was chiefly influenced by
his ill-humour at the Queen's being appointed regent.
When she opened the commission at Kensington, which
she always did as soon as she received intelligence of
the landing of the King in Holland, Frederick would
not attend the council, but contrived to reach the palace
just after the members had concluded their business.
202 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
CHAPTER VL
AT HOME AND OVER THE WATER.
Tho Queen and Walpole govern the kingdom — The biahops reproved by the
Queen — Good wishes for the bishops entertained by the King — Anecdote
of Bishop Hare— Riots — An infernal machine — Wilson the smuggler and
the Porteous mob — General Moyle — Coldness of the Queen for the King
— Walpole advises her Majesty — Unworthy conduct of Caroline and
vice of her worthless husband — Questionable lidelit}' of Madame Wal-
moden — Conduct of the Princess at the Chapel lloyal — The Princess
and her doll — Pasquinades, &c. on the King — Farewell royal supper at
Hanover — Dangerous voyage of the King — Anxiety of the Court about
him — Unjust blame thrown on Admiral Wager — The Queen congratu-
lates the King on his escape — The King's warm reply — Discussions
.ibout the Prince's revenue — Investigation into the affairs of the Porteous
mob — The Queen and the Bill for reduction of the National Debt — Vice
in high life universal — Hepresented on the stage, occasions the censor-
ship — Animosity of the Queen and I'rincesses towards Prince Frederick.
Though the Ejug delcguted all royal power to the Queen,
as regent dimng his absence, he exercised his kingly
office when in Hanover by signing commissions for offi-
cers. The Queen would not consent that objection
sliould Ije taken to this course followed by her luisband,
or that any representation should be made to him on the
subject. Such acts, indeed, did not interfere with her
great power as regent — a power which she wielded in
union with Waljxjle. These two persons governed the
kingdom according to their own councils ; but the minis-
ter, nevertheless, placed every conclusion at which lie
and the Queen had arrived before tlie cabinet council,
by the obsequious members of wliich the conclusions,
whatever they were, wei'c sanctioned, and the necessary
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 283
documents signed. Thus Walpole, by the side of the
Queen, acted as independently as if he had been King ;
but of liis acts he managed to make the cabinet share
with him the responsibihty.
The office exercised by the Queen was far fi'om being
a sinecure or exempt from great anxieties ; but it was
liardly more onerous tlian tliat wliich slie exercised
durino; the Kino-'s residence in Enei;hind. Her chief
troubles, she was wont to say, were derived from the
bishops.
If Caroline could not speak so harshly of the prelates,
generally or individually, as her husband, she could re-
prove them, when occasion offered, witli singular asperity.
We may see an mstance of this in the case of the epis-
copal opposition to the Mortmain and to the Quakers'
Eelief Bills ; but especially to the latter. This particular
bill had for its object to render more easy the recovery
of tithes from Quakers ; the latter did not ask for exemp-
tion, but for less oppression in the method of levying.
The court wished that the bill should pass into law.
Sherlock, now Bishop of Salisbury, wrote a pamphlet
against it ; and the prelates generally, led by Gibson,
Bishop of London, stirred up all the dioceses in tlie king-
dom to oppose it, with a cry of The Church in danger.
Sir Eobert Walpole represented to the Queen that all the
bishops were blameable ; but that the chief blame rested
upon Sherlock, whose opposition was described as being
as little to be justified in point of understanding and
policy as in integrity and gratitude. Sir Eobert declared
that lie was at once the dupe and the willing follower of
the Bishop of London, and that both were guilty of
endeavouring to disturb the quiet of the kingdom.
The first time Dr. Sherlock appeared at court after
this the Queen chid him extremely, and asked him if he
was not ashamed to be overreached in this manner by
284 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
the Bisliop of London. Slie accused liim of being a
second time the dupe of the latter prelate, who was
charged with having misled him in a matter concerning
the advancement of Dr. Bundle to an episcopal see.
' How,' she asked him, ' could he be blind and Aveak
enough to be running his nose into another's dirt again ! '
As for the King, he spoke of the prelates 011 this occa-
sion ' with his usual softness.' They were, according to
the hereditary defender of the faith, ' a parcel of black,
canting, hypocritical rascals.' They were 'silly,' 'im-
pertinent ' fellows, presuming to dictate to the Crown ; as
if it were not the duty of a bishop to exercise this bold-
ness when emergency warranted and occasion suited.
Both bills were passed in the Commons. The Mort-
main Bill (to prevent the further alienation of lands by
will in mortmain) passed the Lords ; but the Quakers'
Eelief Bill was lost there by a majority of two.
The Queen was far from desiring that the bishops
should be so treated as to make them in settled antago-
nism with the Crown. Slie one day ventured to say
something in this spirit to the King. It was at a time
when he was peevishly impatient to get away to Hanover,
to the society of Madame Walmoden, and to the young
son born there since his departure. He is reported to
have exclaimed to Caroline, when she was gently urging
a more courteous treatment of the bishops — ' I am sick
to death of all this foolish stuff, and wish, with all my
lieai't, that the devil may take all your bishops, and the
devil take your minister, and the devil take the parlia-
ment, and the devil take the whole island, provided I
can get out of it and go to Hanover.' ^
What Caroline meant by moderation of behaviour
towards the bishops it is hard to understand ; for when
Drs. Sherlock and Hare complained to her that, in spite
* Lord Ilervey.
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 285
of their loyalty to the Crown they were nightly treated
with great coarseness and indignity by lords closely con-
nected with the court, Caroline spoke immediately, in the
harsh tone and strong terms ordinarily employed by her
consort, and said, that she could more easily excuse Lord
Hervey, who was chiefly complained of as speaking
sharply against them in parliament — ' I can easier excuse
him,' exclaimed her Majesty, ' for throwing some of the
Bishop of London's dirt upon you than I can excuse all
you other fools (who love the Bishop of London no better
than he does) for taking the Bishop of London's dirt
upon yourselves.' She claimed a right to chide the pre-
lates soundly, upon the ground that she loved them
deeply ; and she made very liberal use of the privilege
she claimed. Bishop Hare, in replying, called Lord Hin-
ton, one of Lord Hervey's imitators, his ' ape.' The
Queen told this to Lord Hervey, who answered, that his
ape, if he came to know that such a term had been ap-
plied to him, would certainly knock down the Queen's
' baboon.' Caroline, with a childish spirit of mischief,
communicated to Hare what she had done, and what her
vice-chancellor had said upon it. The terrified prelate
immediately broke the third commandment, exclaiming,
' Good God ! madam, what have you done ! As for Lord
Hervey, he will satisfy himself, perhaps, with playing his
wit off upon me, and calling me Old Baboon ; but for my
Lord Hinton, who has no wit, he will knock me down.'
The vice-chamberlain, who reports the scene, says — ' This
tallied so ridiculously with what Lord Hervey had said to
the Queen that she burst into a fit of laughter, which
lasted some minutes before she could speak ; and then
she told the bishop, "That is just, my good lord, what
Lord Hervey did do, and what he said the ape would
do." ' The Queen, however, promised that no harm
should come to the prelate.
286 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
No inconsiderable amount of liarm, however, was
inflicted on many of the prelates, including Hare himself.
Walpole was disposed to translate him when an advan-
tageous opportunity offered ; but Hervey showed him
good reason for preferring pliant Potter, then of Oxford.
Gibson, the Bishop of London, had been looking to be
removed to Canterbury whenever Dr. Wake's death
there should cause a vacancy. He expected, however,
that, in accordance with his wish, Sherlock would suc-
ceed him in London. The Queen was disposed to sanc-
tion the arranojement ; but she was fi'io-htened out of it
by Walpole and Hervey. She accordingly advised Sher-
lock ' to go down to his diocese and live quietly ; to let
the spirit he had raised so foolishly against him here sub-
side ; and to reproach himself only if he had failed, or
should fail, of what he wished should be done and she
had wished to do for him.'
During the absence of the King, in 173G, in Hanover,
the Queen Regent had but an uneasy time of it at home.
First, there were corn riqts in the west, Avhich were
caused by the attempts of the people to prevent the ex-
portation of corn, and which could only be suppressed by
aid of the mihtary. Next, there were labour riots in the
metropolis in consequence of tlie market being over-
stocked by Irisli labourers, who offered to work at lower
rates than the English ; and whicli also the bayonet alone
was able to suj)press. Thirdly, the coasts were infested
by smugglers, whom the prospect of the hangman could
not deter from their exciting vocation, and who not
only killed revenue officers in very pretty battles, but
were heartily assisted by the country {)eople, wlio looked
upon the contrabandists as most gallant and useful gen-
tlemen. Much sedition was mixed up with the confusion
which arose from these tumultuary proceedings : for
wherever the people were opposed in their inclinations,
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 287
they immediately took to cursing the Queen especially ;
not, however, sparing the King, nor forgetting, in their
street ovations, to invoke blessings upon James III. It
was, indeed, the fashion for every aggrieved person to
speak of George II., in his character of Elector of Hano-
ver, as ' a foreign prince.' When this was done by a
nonjuring clergyman named Dixon, who exploded an
innocent infernal machine in Westminster Hall (to the
^great terror of judges and lawyers), which scattered
papers over the hall denouncing various acts of parlia-
ment — first that against the sale of gin in unlicensed
places, then the act for building Westminster Bridge,
tlie one to suppress smuggling, and that which enabled
' a foreign prince ' to borrow 600,000^. of money sacredly
appropriated to the payment of our debts — the Lord
Chancellor and the Chief Justice were so affrighted that
they called the escapade ' a treason.' Caroline summoned
a council thereon, and, having at last secured the half-
mad and destitute offender, they consigned him to rot in
a gaol; although, as Lord Hervey says, 'the lawyers
should have sent him to Bedlam, and ivould have sent
him to Tyburn,'
The popular fury was sometimes so excited that it
was found necessary, as in the Michaelmas of this year,
to double the guards who had the care of her sacred
Majesty at Kensington. The populace had determined
upon being drunk, when, where, and how they liked.
The s^overnment had resolved tliat they should not get
drunk upon gin at any but licensed places ; and there-
upon the miajesty of the people became so furious that
even the person of Caroline was hardly considered safe
in her own palace.
Nor were riots confined only to England. A formid-
able one broke out in Edinburgh, based upon admu-ation
for a smuggler named Wilson, who had cleverly robbed
288 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
a revenue ofricer, as well as defrauded the revenue. The
mob tliought it hard that the poor fellow sliould be
hanged for such little foibles as these ; and though they
could not rescue him from the gallows, they raised a
desperate tumult as he was swung from it. The town
guard fired upon the rioters, by order of their captain,
Porteous, and several individuals were slain. The captain
was tried for tliis alleged unlawful slaying, and was con-
demned to die ; but Caroline, who admired promptness
of character, stayed the execution by sending down a
reprieve. The result is well known ; the mob broke
open the prison, and inflicted Lynch law upon the captain,
hanging him in the market-place, amid a shower of curses
and jeers against Caroline and her reprieve.
The indignation of the Queen Eegent was almost
uncontrollable. She was especially indignant against
General Moyle, commander of the troops, who had re-
fused to interfere to suppress the riot. He was tolerably
well justified in his refusal ; for the magistrates of Edin-
burgh, ever ready to invoke assistance, were addicted to
betray them who rendered it to the gallows if the riot
was suppressed by shedding the blood of the rioters. His
conduct on this occasion was further regulated by orders
from his commander-in chief. Caroline had no regard
for any of the considerations which governed the discreet
general; and, in the vexation of her chafed spirit, she de-
clared that Moyle deserved to be shot by order of a
court-martial. It was with great difficulty that her
ministers and friends succeeded in softening the aspeiity
of her temper. Even Su- Kobert Walpole, who joined in
representing that it were better to hold Moyle harmless,
maintained in privtitr iluil the general was fool, knave, or
coward. Lord Hervcy says that the Queen resented the
conduct of tlie Scotch on this occasion, as sliowing ' a
tendency to shake off all government ; and I believe was
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 289
a little more irritated, fre:>m considering it in some degree
as a personal affront to her, who had sent down Captain
Porteous's reprieve ; and had she been told half what
was reported to have been said of her by the Scotch mob
on this occasion, no one could think that she had not
ample cause to be provoked.'
To return to the domestic affairs of Caroline : it is to
be observed that the Queen had not seen the King leave
England, with indifference. She was aware that he was
chiefly attracted to Hanover by the unblushing rival who,
on his departure thence, had drunk, amid smiles and
tears, to his speedy retimi. His departiu"e, therefore,
something affected her proud spirit, and she was for a
season depressed. But business acted upon her as a tonic,
and she was occupied and happy, yet not without her
hours of trial and vexation, until the time approached for
the King's return.
Bitter, however, were her feelings when she found
that return protracted beyond the usual period. For the
King to be absent on his birthday was a most unusual
occurrence, and Caroline felt that the rival must have
some power indeed v/ho could thus restrain him from in-
dulgence in old habits. She was, however, as proud as
she was pained. She began to grow cool in her ceremony
and attentions to the King. She abridged the ordinary
length of her letters to him, and the usual four dozen
pages were shortened into some seven or eight. Her
immediate friends, Avho were aware of this circumstance,
saw at once that her well-known judgment and prudence
were now in default. They knew that to attempt to in-
sinuate reproach to the King would arouse his anger, and
not awaken his sleeping tenderness. They feared lest her
power over him should become altogether extinct, and
that his Majesty would soon as little regard his wife by
force of habit as he had long ceased to do by readiness of
VOL. I. u
290 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
iiicliiiatiou. It was Walpole's conviction that tlie King's
respect for her was too firmly based to be ever shaken.
Faithless himself, he reverenced the iidelity and sincerity
which he knew were in her ; and if she could not ride by
the heart, it was certain that she might still continue
supreme by tlie head — by her superior intellect. Still,
the minister recognised the delicacy and danger of the
moment, and, in an interview with Caroline, he made it
the subject of as extraordinary a discussion as was ever
held between minister and royal mistress — between man
and woman. Walpole reminded her of faded charms and
growing years, and he expatiated on the impossibility of
her ever being able to establish supremacy in the King's
regard by power of her personal attractions ! It is a trait
of her character worth noticing, that she listened to these
unwelcome, but almost unwarrantably expressed, truths
with immoveable patience. But Walpole did not stop
here. He urged her to resume her long letters to the
King, and to address him in terms of humility, submis-
siveness, duty, and tender affection ; and he set the climax
on what one might almost be authorised to consider his
impudence, by reconnnending lier to invite the King to
bring Madame Walmoden with him to England. At this
counsel the tears did spring into the eyes of Caroline.
The softened feeling, liowever, only maintained itself for
a moment. It was soon R)rgotten in Jier desiie to recover
or retain her [)ower. Slie promised to obey the minister
in all he had enjoined u])on her ; but Walpole, well as
he knew her, very excusal)ly conjectured that there muat
still be enough of the mere woman in lier, to induce her
to refuse to perform what she had [jromised to accomplish.
He was, however, mistaken. It is true, indeed, that her
heart recoiled at what the head had resolved, but she
maintained her resolution. She C(3nversed calmly with
Walpole on the best means of carrying it out. Jjiit the
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 29 1
minister put no trust in her assertions until such a letter
as lie had recommended had actually been despatched by
her to tlie King. She rallied Walpole on his doubts of
her, but praised him for his abominable counsel. It was
this commendation which alarmed him. He could believe
in her reproof; but lie affirmed that he was always afraid
when Caroline ' daubed' However, he was now obliged
to believe, for the Queen spoke calmly of the coming of
her rival, allotted rooms for her reception, devised plans
and projects for rendering her comfortable, and even
expressed her willingness to take her into her own ser-
vice ! Walpole opposed this, but she cited the case of
Lady Suffolk. Upon which the minister observed, with
iuhnite moral discrimination, that there was a difference
between the King's making a mistress of the Queen's
servant, and making a Queen's servant of his mistress.
The people might reasonably look upon the first as a
very natural condition of things, while the popular virtue
might feel itself outraged at the second. Garohne said
nothing, but wrote certainly the most singular letter that
ever wife wrote to a husband. It was replied to by a
letter also the most yino;ular that ever husband addressed
to a wife.^ The Iling's epistle was full of admiration at
his consort's amiable conduct, and of descriptions of her
rival's bodily and mental features. He extolled the
virtues of his wife, and then expressed a wish that he
could be as virtuous as she ! ' But,' wrote lie, in very
elegant French, 'you know my passions, my dear Caroline;
you know my weaknesses ; there is nothing in my heart
hidden from you ; and would to God,' exclaimed the
mendacious, blaspheming libertine, ' woidd to God that
you could correct me with the same facility with which
you apprehend me ! Would to God that I could imitate
' Copies of the oriyiiial letters, iiiFreucb, will be luund in Lord Harvey's
volumes.
u3
292 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
you as well as I admire you, and that I could learn of
you all the virtues whicli 3^ou make me see, feel, and
love ! '
The Queen, tlien, liad not only to look after the affairs
of the kingdom in the monarch's absence, but to assist
liim with her advice for tlie better management of his
love-affairs in Hanover. With all Madame Walmoden's
affected fidelity towards him, he liad good grounds for
suspecting that his interest in her was shared by less
noble rivals. The senile dupe was perplexed in the
extreme. One rival named as being on too familiar
terms with the lady was a Captain von der Schulenburg,
a relation of the Duchess of Kendal. There was a little
drama enacted by all three parties, as complicated as a
Spanish comedy, and full of love-passages, rope-ladders,
and lying. The closing scene exhibits the lady indignant
in asserting her innocence, and the wretched monarch
too happy to put faith in her assertions. When left
alone, however, he addressed a letter to his wife, asking
her what she thought of the matter, and requesting lier
to consult Walpole, as a man ' who has more experience
in these sort of matters, my dear Caroline, tlian yourself,
and who in the present affair must necessarily be less
prejudiced than I am !' Tliere never was an epithet of
obloquy whicli this miserable fellow flung at his fellow
men which might not have been more apju'opriately
applied to himself.
Caroline, doubtless, gave the counsel that was expected
from her ; and then, having settled to the best of her
abihty this very delicate affair, she was called upon to
interfere in a matter more serious. The young Princess
of Wales had scandalised the whole royal family by taking
the sacrament at the German Lutheran chapel. Serious
remonstrance was made to her on the subject ; but the
young lady shed tears, and pleaded her conscience. Ee-
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 293
ligious liberty, however, was not a thing to be thought
of, and she must take the sacrament according to the
forms prescribed by the Chui'ch of England. She resisted
the compulsion, until it was intimated to her that if she
persisted in the course on which she had entered, there
was a possibility that she might be sent back to Saxe
Gotha. Upon that hint she at once joined the Church of
England. She had no more hesitation than a Lutheran
or Catholic German princess who marries into the Czar's
family has of at once accepting all which the Greek
Church enjoins, and which the lady neither cares for nor
comprehends.
Nor was this the only church matter connected with
the princess which gave trouble to the Queen. The
case of conscience was followed by a case of courtesy, or
rather, perhaps, of the want of it. The Queen attended
divine service regularly in the chapel in Kensington
Palace, and set a good example of being early in her
attendance, which was not followed by the Prince and
Princess of Wales, when they also were in residence at
the palace. It was the bad habit of the latter, doubtless
at the instigation of her husband, not to enter the chapel
till after the service had commenced and the Queen was
engaged in her devotions. The princess had then, in
order to get to the seat allotted to her, to pass by the
Queen — a large woman in a small pew ! The scene was
unbecoming in the extreme ; for the princess passed in
front of her Majesty, between her and the prayer-book,
and there was much confusion and unseemliness in con-
sequence. When this had been repeated a few times,
the Queen ordered Sir William Toby, the princess's
chamberlain, to introduce his royal mistress by another
door than that by which the Queen entered, whereby her
royal highness might pass to her place without inde-
corously incommoding her Majesty. The prince would
294 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
not allow this to be done, and he only so for compromised
the matter, by ordering the princess, whenever slie found
the Queen at chapel before herself, not to enter at all, but
to return to the palace,
Caroline, offended as she was with her son, would not
allow him to pretend that she was as difficult to live
with as his father, and so concealed her anger. Lord
Hervey so well knew that the prince wished to render
the Queen unpopular, that he counselled his royal mis-
tress not to let her son enjoy a grievance that he could
trade upon. Lord Hervey said, ' he could wisli that if
the prince was to sit down in her laji, that she would only
say she hoped he found it easy.'
For the princess the Queen had nothing but a feeling
which partook mostly of a compassionate regard. She
knew her to be really harmless, and tliought her very
dull company ; which, for a woman of Caroline's intel-
lect and power of conversation, she undoubtedly was.
The woman of cultivated mind yawned wearily at the
truisms of the common-place young lady, and made an
assertion with respect to her which bespoke a mind more
coarse than cultivated. ' Poor creature ! ' said Caroline, of
her young daughter-in-law ; ' were she to spit in my face,
I should only pity her for being under such a fool's direc-
tion, and wipe it off.' The fool, of course, was the
speaker's son. The young wife, it must be confessed,
was something childish in her ways. Nothing pleased
her better than to play half through the day with a large,
jointed doll. This she would dress and undress, and
nurse and fondle at the windows of Kensington Palace,
to the amusement and w^onder, rather than to tlie edifi-
cation, of the servants in the palace and the sentinels
beneath the windows. The Princess Caroline almost
forgot her gentle character in c-hi(Hng her sister-in-law,
and desiring her 'iiol ti» stand at tlie window during
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 295
these operations on her baby.' The Princess Caroline
did not found her reproach upon the impropriety of tlie
action, but upon that of allowing it to be witnessed by
others. The lower people, she said, thought everything
ridiculous that was not customary, and the thing would
draw" a mob about ]ier, and make la canaille talk dis-
agreeably !
The act showed tlie childishness of her character at
that time ; a childishness on which her husband improved
by getting her to apply, through the Queen, for the King's
consent to allow her to place Lady Archibald Hamilton
upon her household. Frederick informed his young wife
of the position in which the world said the lady stood with
regard to him ; but he assured her that it was all false.
Augusta beheved, or affected to believe, or was perhaps
indifferent ; and Lady Archibald was made lady of the
bedchamber, privy purse, and mistress of the robes to the
princess, with a salary of nine hundred pounds a-year.
While the ladies of the court discussed the subject of
the King, his wife, his favourite, and the favourite of the
prince, and seriously canvassed the expediency of bring-
ing Madame Walmoden to England, there were some
who entertained an idea that it would be well if the Sove-
reign himself could be kept out of it. The people took
to commiserating Caroline, and many censured her hus-
band for his infidelity, while others only reproved him be-
cause that faithlessness was made profitable to foreigners
and not to fairer frailty at home. In the meantime,
his double taste for his Electorate and the ladies there
was caricatured in various ways. Pasquinades intimated
that his Hanoverian Majesty would condescend to visit
his Ih-itish dominions at a future stated period. A lame,
blind, and aged horse, with a saddle, and a pillion beliind
it, was sent to wander through the streets, with an in-
scription on the forehead, which begged that nobody
296 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
would Stop him, as lie was ' the King's Hanoverian equi-
page, going to fetch his Majesty and liis to England.'
The most stinging satire of all was boldly affixed to the
walls of St. James's Palace, and was to this effect : 'Lost
or strayed, out of this house, a man who has left a wife
and six children on the parish. Whoever will give any
tidings of him to the ('hurchwardens of St. James's parish,
so as he may be got again, shall receive four shillings
and sixpence reward. N.B. This reward will not be in-
creased, nobody judging him to deserve a crown.'
The King himself was rather gratified than otherwise
with satires which imputed to him a gallantry (as it is
erroneously called) of disposition. He was only vexed
wlien censure was gravely directed against him which
had reference to the incompatibility of his pursuits with
his position, his age, and his infirmities. He preferred
being reproved as profligate, rather than being considered
past the period when profligacy would be venial.
Previous to his return to England, he expressed a
wish to the Queen that she would remove from Kensing-
ton to St. James's, on the ground that it would be better
for her health, and she would be easier of access to the
ministers. The road between London and the suburban
locality, which may now be said to be a part of it, was at
the period alluded to in so wretclied a condition, that
Kensington Palace was more remote from the metropolis
than Windsor Castle is now. Caroline understood her
husband too well to obey. She continued, as regent, to
live in retirement, and this affectation of disregard for the
outward splendour of her office was not unfavourably
looked upon by the King.
The Queen's rule of conduct was not, however, that
which best pleased her i^ow. Fredeiick declared his inten-
tion of leaving the suburban palace for London. Caroline
was vexed at the announcement of an intention which
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 297
amounted, in other words, to the setting up of a rival
court ; particularly after the orders which had been com-
municated from tlie King to the Prince of Wales, through
the Duke of Grafton. Frederick wrote a note in reply,
like that of his mother's, in French, in which lie intimated
his willingness to remain at Kensington as long as the
Queen Eegent made it her residence. The note was pro-
bably written for the prince by Lord Chesterfield. Caro-
line inflicted considerable annoyance on her son by re-
fusing to consider him as the autlior of the note ; which,
by the way. Lord Hervey thought might have been written
by ' young Pitt,' but certainly not by Lord Chesterfield.
The note itself is only quoted from memory by Lord
Hervey, who says that Lord Chesterfield would have
Avritten better French, as well as with more turns
and points. It closely resembles the character of Lord
Chesterfield's letters in French, which were never so
purely French but there could be detected in them
phrases which were mere translations of English idioms ;
and it was precisely because of such a fault that Caroline
had suspected that the note was written by an English-
man born. The fact remains to be noticed that, in spite
of the promise made by the prince to remain at Ken-
sington, he really removed to London ; but, as his suite
was left in the suburbs, he consideied that his pledge
was honourably maintained.
Frederick's conduct seems to have arisen from a fear
of its being supposed that he was governed by others.
Had it been the Queen's interest to rule him by letting
him suppose that he was free from the influence of others,
she would have done it as readily and as easily as in the
case of the King. The Queen considered him so far un-
ambitious that he did not long for his father's death ; but
Lord Hervey showed her that if he did not, the creditors
who had lent him money, payable with interest at the
298 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
King's decease, were less delicate in this matter ; and
that the demise of the King might be so profitable to
many as to make the monarch's speedy death a consum-
mation devoutly to be wished. The life of the Sovereign
was thus put in present peril, and Lord Hervey suggested
to the Queen that it would be well were a bill brought
into parliament, making it a capital oflence for any man
to lend money for a premium at the King's death. 'To be
sure,' replied the Queen, ' it ought to be so ; and pray talk
a httle with Sir Eobert Walpole about it.' Meanwhile,
Frederick Prince of Wales exhibited a liberality which
charmed the public generally, rather than his creditors
in particular, by forwarding 500/. to the Lord Mayor for
the pui-pose of releasing poor freemen of the City from
prison. The act placed the prince in strong contrast
with his father, who had been squandering large sums in
Germanj^
The King's departure from Hanover for England took
place in the night of the 7th to the 8th of December,
after one of those brilliant and festive farewell suppers
which were now given on such occasions by the Circe or
the Cynthia of the hour. Wine and tears, no doubt, flowed
abundantly ; but, as soon as the scene could be decently
brought to an end, the royal lover departed, and arrived
on the 11th at Helvoetsluys. His daughter Anne was
lying sick, almost to death, at the Hague, where her life
had with difficulty been purchased by the sacrifice of that
of the little daughter she had borne. The King, however,
had not leisure for the demonstration of any parental affec-
tion, and he hurried on without even enquirino- after the
condition of his child. Matter-of-fact people aie usually
tender, and, if not tender, courteously decent people.
Tlie King was a matler-of-fjict p,erson enough, but even
in this he acted like those highly i-efined and sentimental
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 299
persons in whom affection is ever on tlieir lips and venom
in tlieir hearts.
The wind was fair, and all London was in expecta-
tion, but without eagerness, of seeing once more their
gaillard of a King, with his grave look, among them.
But the wind veered, and a hurricane blew from the
west with such violence that every one concluded, if the
King had embarked, he must necessarily have gone down,
and the royal convoy of ships perished with him. Bets
were laid upon the event, and speculation was busy in
every corner. The excitement was naturally great, for
the country had never been in such uncertainty about
their monarch. Wagers increased. Walpole began to
discuss the prospects of the royal family, the probable
conduct of the possible new sovereigu, the little regard
he would have for his mother, the faithless guardian he
would be over his brother and sisters, and the bully and
dupe he would prove, by turns, of all with whom he
came in contact. Lord Hervey and Queen Caroline dis-
cussed the same delicate question ; and the lattei', fancy-
ing that her son already assumed, in public and in her
presence, the swagger of a new greatness, and that he
was bidding for popularity, would not listen to Lord
Hervey 's assurances that she would be able to rule him
as easily as she had done his father. She ridiculed his
conduct, called him fool and ass, and averred that while
the thought of some tilings he did ' made her feel sick,'
the idea of the popularittj of Fritz made her ' vomit.'
As hour was added to hour, amid all this speculation and
trouble, and ' still Ctesar came not,' reports of loss of life
at sea became rife. At Harwich, guns had been heard
at night booming over the waters ; people had come to
the conclusion that they were guns of distress fired from
the royal fleet — the funeral dirge of itself and the mon-
300 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
arch. Coininunication of this gratifying conclusion was
made to Carohne. Prince Frederick Ivindly prepared her
for the worst ; Lord Ilervey added the expression of his
fears that tliat worst was not very far off ; and tlie Princess
Carohne began meditating upon the hatred of lier brother
' for niannna,' and the little cliance there would be of her
obtaining a liberal provision fi'oni the new king. The
Queen was more concerned than she chose to acknow-
ledge ; but when gloomy uncertainty was at its highest, a
courier, whose life had been risked, with those of the
ship's crew with whom he came over, in order to inform
Caroline that her consort had not risked his own, was
flung ashore ' miraculously ' at Yarmouth ; whence hasten-
ing to St. James's, he relieved all apprehensions and
crushed all expiring hopes, by the announcement that
his Majesty had never embarked at all, and was still at
Helvoetsluj's, awaiting fine weatliei' and favouring gales.
The fine weather came, and the wind was fair for
bringing the royal wanderer home. It remained so just
long enough to induce all the King's anxious subjects to
conclude that he had embarked, and then wind and
weather became more tempestuous and adverse than
they were before. And now people set aside speculation,
and confessed to a conviction that his Majesty lived only
in history. During the former season of doubt, Caroline
had solaced herself, or wiled away her time, by reading
' Eollin ' and aflecting to make light of all the gloomy
reports which were made in lier hearing. There was
now, however, more cause for alarm. By ones, and
twos, and fours, the ships which had left Ilelvoetsluys
with the King were flung upon the English coast, or
succeeded in making separate harbours in a miserably
wrecked condition. All the intelligence they brought
was, that his Majesty had embarked, that tliey had set
sail in company, that an awful hun-icane had arisen, that
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 30£
Sir Charles Wager had made signal for every vessel to
provide for its own safety, and that the last seen of the
royal yaclit was that she was tacking, and they only hoped
that his Majesty might have succeeded in getting back to
Helvoetsluys. Some in England echoed that loyally
expressed hope ; others only desired tliat the danger inti-
mated by it might have been wrought out to its full end.
Christmas-day at St. James's was the very gloomiest
of festive times, and the evening was solemnly spent in
round games of cirds. The Queen, indeed, did not know
of the disasters which had happened to the royal fleet ;
but there was uncertainty enough touching the fate of her
ro3^al husband to make even the reading of Eollin appear
more decent than playing at basset and cribbage. Mean-
while, the ministers and court officials stood round the
royal table, and discoursed on trivial subjects, while their
thoughts were directed towards their storm-tost master.
On the folio wino- mornino; Sir Robert Walnole informed
her Majesty of the real and graver aspect of affairs. The
heart of the tender woman at once melted ; and Caroline
burst into tears, unrestrainedly. The household of the
heir-apparent, on the other hand, began to wear an
aspect as though the wished-for inheritance had at last
fallen upon it.
The day was Sunday, and the Queen resolved upon
attending chapel as usual. Lord Hervey thought her
weak in determining to sit up to be stared at. He had no
idea that a higher motive might influence a wife in dread
uncertainty as to the fate of her husband. Caroline, it is
true, was not influenced by any such high motive. She
simply did not wisli that people should conclude, from
her absence, that the Sovereign had perished ; and she
would neglect no duty belonging to her position till
she was relieved from it by law. She accordingly ap-
peared at chapel as usual ; and in the very midst of the
302 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
service a letter was delivered to her from the King, in
which the much-vexed monarch told her how he liad set
sail, how the fleet had been scattered, how he had been
driven back to Helvoetsluys after beating about for some
twenty hours, and how it was all the fault of Sir Charles
Wager, who had hurried him on board, on assurance of
wind and tide being favourable, and of there being no time
to be lost.
The joy of Caroline was honest and unfeigned. She
declared that her heart had been heavier that day than
ever it had been before; that she was still, indeed, anxious
touching the fate of one whose life was so precious, not
merely to his family, but to all Europe ; and that, but for
the impatience and indiscretion of Sir Charles Wager,
the past great peril would neve]* have been incurred.
The admiral was entirely blameless. The King had
deliberately misrepresented the circumstances. It was
the royal impatience which had caused all the subsequent
peril. The Sovereign, weary of waiting for a wind, de-
clared that if the admiral would not sail, he would go over
in a packet-boat. Sir Charles maintained he could not.
' Be the weather what it may,' said the King, ' I am not
afraid.' '/aw?,' was the laconic remark of the seaman.
George remarked that he ' wanted to see a stui-in, and
would sooner be twelve hours in one than be shut up for
twenty-four hours more at Helvoetsluys.' ' Twelve hours
in a storm ! ' cried Sir Charles ; ' four hours would do your
business for you,' The admiral would not sail till the
wind was fair; and he remarked to the King thatahhough
his Majesty could compel him to go, ' I,' said Sir Charles,
' can make you come back again.' The stoi-m which
arose after they did set sail was most terrific in character,
and the escape of the voyagers was of the narrowest.
The run back to the Dutch coast was not effected without
difficulty. On landing, Sir Charles observed, ' Sir, you
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 303
wished to see a storm ; how does your Majesty hke it? '
' So well,' said the King, ' that I never wish to see another.'
The admiral remarked, in one of his private letters, giving
a description of the event, ' that his Majesty was at present
as tame as any about him ; ' 'an epitliet,' says Lord Hervey,
' that his Majesty, had he known it, would, I fancy, have
liked, next to the storm, the least of anything that hap-
pened to him.'
' How is the wind for the King? 'was the popular
query at the time of this voyage ; and the popular answer
was, ' Like the nation— against him.' And when men
who disliked him because of his vices or of their political
hopes remarked that the Sovereign had been saved from
drowning, they generally added the comment that ' it was
God's mercy, and a thousand pities ! ' The anxiety of
Caroline for the King's safety had, no doubt, been very
great — so great, that in it she had forgotten sympathy for
her daughter in her hour of trial. Lord Hervey will not
allow that the Queen had any worthier motive for her
anxiety than her apprehension ' of her son's ascending
the throne, as there were no lengths she did not think him
capable of going to pursue and ruin her.'
• She comforted herself by declaring that, had the worst
happened, she still would have retained Lord Hervey in
her service, and have given him an apartment in her
jointure house, (old) Somerset House. She added, too,
that she would have gone down on her knees to beg
Sir Eobert Walpole to continue to serve the son as he
had done the father. All this is not so self-denying as it
seems. In retaining Lord Hervey, whom her son hated,
she was securing one of her highest pleasures ; and by
keeping Sir Robert in the service of the prince, she would
have ooverned the latter as she had done his father.
Gross as tlie King was in his acts, he was choice and
refined, when he chose, in his letters. The epistle which
304 LIVES OF THE QUEENS' OF ENGLAND.
]ie wrote, in i"oj)ly to ihc congraUilations of tlie Queen on
his safety, is elegant, touching, warm, and apparently
sincere. ' In spite of all the danger I have incurred in
this tempest, my dear Caroline, and notwithstanding all I
have suffered, having been ill to an excess which I thought
the human body could not bear, I assure you that I would
expose myself to it again and again to have the pleasure
of hearing the testimonies of your affection with which
my position inspired you. This affection which you
testify for me, this friendship, this fidelity, the inex-
haustible goodness which you show for me, and the
indulgence which you have for all my weaknesses, are so
many obligations, which I can never sufficiently recom-
pense, can never sufficiently merit, but which I also can
never forget.' The original French runs more prettily
than this, and adapts itself well to the phrases which
praised the Queen's charms and attracti<jns with all the
ardour of youthful svvaiii for blushing nymph. The Queen
showed the letter to Walpole and Hervey, with the
remark that she was reasonably pleased with, but not
unreasonably proud of, it. The gentlemen came to the
conclusion that the master whom they served w^xs the
most incom])rehensible master to whom service was ever
rendered. lie was a mere old cajoler, deceiving the
woman whom he affected to praise, and only praising
her because she let him have an unconstrained course in
vice while she enjoyed one in power.
At length, after a detention of five weeks at Ilelvoet-
sluys, the King arrived at Lowestoft. The Queen re-
ceived information of his coming at four o'clock in the
morning, after a sleej)less night, caused by illness both
of mind and body. When Walpole repaired to her at
nine, she was still in bed ; and the good Princess Caroline
was at her side, trying to read lier to sleep. Walpole
waited until lier Majesty had taken some repose ; and
mciiiiwhile the Prince of Wales and the l^iinccss A.melia
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 305
(who was distrusted by her brother and by her mother,
because she affected to serve each while she betrayed
both) entered into a gossiping sort of conference with him
in the antechamber. The prince was all praise, the
minister all counsel. Walpole perhaps felt that the heir-
apparent, wdio boasted that, wdien he appeared in public,
the people shouted, ' Crown him I Crown him ! ' was
engaging him to lead the first administration under a new
reign. The recent prospect of such a reign being near at
hand had been a source of deep alarm to Caroline, and
also of distaste. She would have infinitely preferred that
Frederick should have been disinherited, and his brother
William advanced to his position as heir-apparent.
The King arrived in town on the 15th of January 17 37.
He came in sovereign good humour ; greeted all kindly, was
warmly received, and was never tired of expatiating on
the admirable qualities of his consort. An observer,
indifferently instructed, would not have thought that this
contemptible personage had a mistress, who was the object
of more ardent homage than he ever paid to that wife
whom he declared to be superior to all the women in the
world. He was fervent in his eulogy of her, not only to
herself but to Sir Eobert Walpole ; and indeed was only
peevish with those who presumed to enquire after his
health. The st(3rm had something shaken him, and he
was not able to open parliament in person ; but nothing
more sorely chafed him than an air of solicitude and
enquiry after his condition by loyal servitors — who got
nothing for their pains but the appellation of 'puppies.'
He soon, however, had more seiiou.s provocation to con-
tend w^ith.
The friends of the Prince of Wales compelled him,
little reluctant, to bring the question of his income before
parliament. The threat to take this step alarmed Walpole,
by whose advice a message was sent from the King, and
VOL. I. X
v5
06 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
delivered by tlie lords of the council to the prince,
whereby the proposal was made to settle upoii him the
50,000/. a-year which he now received in monthly
payments at the King's pleasure, and also to settle a
jointure, the amount of which was not named, upon the
princess.
Both their Majesties were unA\illing to make this
proposition ; but Walpole assured them that the submitting
it to the prince would place his royal highness in con-
siderable difficulty. If he accepted it, the King would
get credit for generosity ; and if he rejected it, the prince
would incur the blame of imdutifulness and ingratitude.
The offer was made, but it was neither accepted nor
refused. The prince expressed great gratitude, but
declared his inability to decide, as the conduct of the
measure was in the hands of others, and he could not
prevent them from bringing the consideration of it before
parliament. The prince's friends, and indeed others
besides his friends, saw clearly enough that the King of-
fered no boon. His Majesty simply proposed to settle upon
his son an annual income, amounting to only half of what
parliament had granted on the understanding of its being
allotted to the prince. The King and Queen maintained
with equal energy, and not always in the most delicate
manner, that the parliament had no more right to interfere
with the appropriation of this money than that body had
with the allowances made by any father to his son. The
rage of the Queen was more unrestrained than that of her
husband ; and she was especially indignant against Walpole
for having counselled that an offer should be made which
had failed in its object, and had not })revented the matter
being brought before parliament.
The making of it, however, had doubtless some influ-
ence upon the members, and helped in a small way to
increase the majority in favour of the government. The
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 307
excitement in tlie court circle was very great when an
address to the King was moved for by Pultcney, suggest-
ing the desirableness of the prince's income being in-
creased. The consequent debate was one of considerable
interest, and was skilfully maintained by the respective
adversaries. Tlie prince's advocates were broadly accused
of lying ; and Caroline, at all times and seasons, in her
dressing-room with Lord Hervey, and in the drawing-
room with a crowded circle around her, openly and coarsely
stigmatised her son as a liar and his friends as ' nasty '
Whigs. Great was her joy when, by a majority of 23'4
to 204, the motion for the address was defeated. There
was even congratulation that the victory had cost the King
so little in bribes — only 900/., in divisions of 500/ to one
member and 400/. to another. And even this sum was
not positive purchase-money of votes for this especial
occasion ; but money promised to be paid at the end of
the session for general service, and only advanced now
because of the present particular and well-appreciated
assistance rendered.
Let us do the prince the justice to say, that, in asking
that his income might be doubled, he did not ask that the
money should be drawn from the public purse. When
Bubb Dodington first advised him to apply to parliament
for a grant, his answer was spirited enough. ' The people
have done quite enough for my family already, and I
would rather beg my bread from door to door than be a
charge to them.' What he asked for was, that out of his
father's civil list of nearly a million sterling per annum,
he might be provided with a m_ore decent revenue than a
beggarly fifty thousand a-year, paid at his father's plea-
sure. Pulteney's motion was denounced by ministers as
an infraction of the King's prerogative. Well, Frederick
could not get the cash he coveted from the King, and he
would not take it from the public. Bubb Dodington had
X 2
;o8
LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
advised him to apply to parliament, and he rewarded
Bubb for the hint by easing him occasionally of a few
thousands at play. He exulted in winning. ' I have just
nicked Dodington,' said he on one occasion, 'out of 5,000/.,
and Bubl) has no chance of ever getting it again ! '
The battle, however, was not yet concluded. The
prince's party resolved to make the same motion in the
Lords which had been made in the Commons. The King
and Queen meanwhile considered that they were released
from their engagement, whereby the prince's revenue was
to be placed entirely in his own power. They were also
anxious to eject their son from St. James's. Good counsel,
nevertheless, prevailed over them to some extent, and
they did not proceed to any of the extremities threatened
by them. In the meantime, the scene within the palace
was one to make a very stoic sigh. The son had daily
intercoiu'se with one or both of his parents. He led the
Queen by the hand to dinner, and she could have stabbed
him on the way ; for her wrath was more bitter than
ever against him, for the reason that he had introduced
her name, through his friends, in the parliamentary debate,
in a way which she considered must compromise her
reputation with the peo]:)le of England. He had himself
declared to the councillors who had brought him the
terms of the King's offer, that he had frequently applied
through the Queen for an interview with the King, at
which an amicable an^angement of their differences might
be made ; but that she had prevented such an interview,
by neglecting to make the prince's wishes known to his
father. Tliis story was repeated by the prince's friends in
parliament, and Caroline called heaven and earth to wit-
ness that her son had grossly and deliberately lied. In
this temper the two often sat down to dinner at the same
table. As for tlie King, although Frederick attended the
royal levees., and stood near his royal sire, the latter
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 309
never affected to behold or to consider him as present,
and he invariably spoke of him as a brainless, impertinent
puppy and scoundrel.'
The motion for the address to the King, praying him
to confer a jointure on tlie princess, and to settle 100,000/.
a-year out of the civil list on the prince, was brought
before the House of Peers by Lord Carteret. That noble-
man so well served his royal client that, before bringing
forward the motion, he made an apology to the Queen,
declaring that office had been forced on him. The exercise
thereof was a decided failure. The Lords rejected the
motion, on a division of 103 to 40, the minority making
strong protest against the division of the House, and in
very remarkable language. The latter did not trouble
their Majesties, and this settling of the question helped
to restore Walpole to tlie royal favour, from which he had
temporarily fallen.
There was anothei- public affliir which gave the Queen
as much perplexity as any of her domestic troubles. This
was the investigation into the matter of the Porteous riot
at Edinburgh, with the object of punishing those who
were most to blame. It is not necessary to detail this
matter at any length, or indeed further than the Queen
was personally connected with it. She was exceedingly
desirous that it should be decided on its merits, and that
it should not be made a national matter of. On this
account, she was especially angry with the Duke of
Newcastle, on whom she laid the blame of having very
unnecessarily dragged up to London such respectable
men as the Scotch judges ; and she asked him ' What the
devil he meant by it ? ' While the affair was still pend-
ing, but after the judges had been permitted to go back
again, the Queen remarked to Lord Hervey, ' she should
^ These matters will be found detailed at great length, in Lord Ilervey'a
Memoirs.
3IO LIVES OF THE (lUEENS OF ENGLAND.
be glad to know the tnitli, but believed she should never
come at it — whether the Scotch judges had been really
to blame or not in the trial of Captain Porteous : for,
between you and the Bishop of Salisbury ' (Sherlock),
said she, ' who each of you convinced me by turns, I am
as much in the dark as if I knew nothing at all of the
matter. He comes and tells me that they are all as black
as devils ; you, that they are as white as snow ; and
whoever speaks last, I believe. I am like that judge you
talk of so often in the play (Gripus,^ I think you call
him), who, after one side had spoken, begged t'others
might hold their tongue, for fear of puzzling what was
clear to him. I am Queen Gripus ; and since the more I
hear the more I am puzzled, I am resolved I will hear no
more about it ; but let them be in the right or the wrong,
I own to you I am glad they are gone.'
The city of Edinburgh was ultimately punished by
the deposition of its provost, Mr. Wilson, who was de-
clared incapable of ever serving his Majesty, and by the
imposition of a fine of two thousand pounds sterling. The
' mulct ' was to go to the ' cook-maid widow of Captain
Porteous, and make her, with most unconjugal joy, bless
the hour in which her husband was hanged.' ^
The conduct of Caroline, when Sir John Bernard
proposed to reduce the interest on the National Debt
from four to three per cent., again presents her to us in
a very unfavourable light. Not only the Queen, but the
King also was most energetically opposed to the passing
of the bill. People conjectured that their Majesties were
large fundholders, and were reluctant to lose a quarter of
the income thence arising, for the good of the nation.
The bill was ultimately thrown out, chiefly through the
opposition of Walpolc. liy this decision, the House
' lu ' Anipbi(ryon.' * Lord Hervey.
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 3II
stultified its own previously accorded permission (by 220
to 157) for the introduction of the bill. Horace Walpole,
the brother of Sir Robert, was one of those who voted
first for and then against the bill — or first against and
then for his brother. We must once more draw from
Lord Hervey's graphic pages to show what followed at
court upon such a course : — ' Horace Walpole, though his
brother made him vote against the three per cent., did it
with so ill a grace, and talked against his own conduct so
strongly and so frequently to the Queen, that her Majesty
held hira at present in little more esteem or favour than
the Duke of Newcastle. She told him that because he
had some practice in treaties, and was employed in
foreign afiairs, he began to think he understood every-
thing better than anybody else ; and that it was really
quite new his setting himself up to understand the
revenue, money matters, and the House of Commons
better than his brother ! " Oh, what are you all but a
rope of sand, that would crumble away in little grains,
one after another, if it was not for him ? " And when-
ever Horace had been with her, speaking on these sub-
jects, besides telling Lord Hervey, when he came to see
her, how like an opinionative fool Horace had talked
before them, she used to complain of his silly laugh
hurting her ears, and his dirty body offending her nose,
as if she had never had the two senses of hearing and
smelling, in all her acquaintance with poor Horace, till he
had talked for three per cent. Sometimes she used to
cough and pretend to retch with talking of his dirt ; and
would often bid Lord Hervey open the window to purify
the room of the stink Horace had left behind him, and
call the pages to burn sweets to get it out of the hang-
ings. She told Lord Hervey she believed Horace had
a hand in the " Craftsman," for that once, warmed in
312 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF EKGLAND.
disputing on this three-per-cent. affair, he had more than
hinted to her that he guessed her reason for being so
zealous against this scheme was lier having money iu the
stocks.'
Wlien sucli coarseness was common at court, we need
not be surprised tliat dramatic authors, whose office it is
to hold the mirror up to nature, should have attempted
to make some reflection thereon, or to take license
therefrom, and give additional coarseness to the stage.
Walpole's virtuous indignation was excited at this liberty
— a liberty taken only because people iu his station, and
far above his station, by their vices and coarseness, justi-
fied the license. It was this vice, and not the vices of
dramatic authors, which first fettered the drama and
established a censorship. The latter was set up, not be-
cause the stage was wicked, but in order that it should
not satirise the wickedness of those in hi^h station. The
Queen was exceedingly delighted to see a gag put upon
both Thalia and Melpomene.
The vice was hideous. They who care to stir the
offensive mass will find proof enough of this hideousness
in the account given by Lady Deloraine, the wife of Mr.
Windham, of the King's courtship of her, and his conse-
quent temporary obhvion of Madame Walmoden. This
new rival of the Queen, a charming doll of thirty-five years
of age, was wooed by the King in a strain which the stage
would hardly have reproduced ; and his suit was com-
mented upon by the lady, in common conversation with
lords and ladies, with an unctuousness of phrase, a licen-
tiousness of manner, and a coolness of calculation such as
would have disgraced the most immodest of women.
This coarseness of sentiment and expression was equally
conunon. When it was said that Lord Carteret was
writing a history of his times, and that noble author him-
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 313
self alleged that he was engaged in ' giving fame to the
Queen,' the latter, one morning, noticed the alleged fact
to Lord Hervey. The King was present, and his Majesty
remarked : — ' I dare say he will paint you in fine colours,
the dirty liar.' ' Why not ? ' asked Caroline ; ' good things
come out of dirt sometimes. I have ate very good
asparagus raised out of dung ? ' When it was said that
not only Lord Carteret, but that Lords Bolingbroke and
Chesterfield were also engaged in writing the history of
their times, the Queen critically anticipated ' that all the
three histories would be three heaps of lies ; but lies of
very difierent kinds : she said Bolingbroke's would be great
lies ; Chesterfield's little lies ; and Carteret's lies of both
sorts.' ^ It may be added, that where there were vice and
coarseness there was little respect for justice or for inde-
pendence of conduct. The placeman who voted according
to his conscience, when he found his conscience in anta-
gonism against the court, was invariably removed from his
place.
In concluding this chapter, it may be stated that when
Frederick was about to bring forward the question of his
revenue, the Queen would fain have had an interview with
the son she alternately despised and feared, to persuade
him against pursuing this measure — the carrying out of
which she dreaded as prejudicial to the King's health in
his present enfeebled state. Caroline, however, would not
see her son, for the reason, as the mother alleged, that he
was such an incorrigible liar that he was capable of making
any mendacious report of the interview, even of her design-
ing to murder him. She had, in an interview with him,
at the time of the agitation connected with the Excise bill,
been compelled to place the Princess Caroline, concealed,
within hearing;, that she mio;ht be a witness in case of the
^ Lord Ilervev.
3H LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
prince, her brotlier, misrepresenting what liad I'eally taken
place.
When tlie King learned the prince's intentions, he took
the matter much more coolly than the Queen, Several
messengers, however, passed between the principal parties,
but nothing was done in the way of turning the prince
from his purpose. It was an innocent purpose enough,
indeed, as he represented it. The parliament had entrusted
to the King a certain annual sum for the prince's use.
The King and Queen did not so understand it, and he
simply applied to parliament to solicit that august body to
put an interpretation on its own act.
The supposed debilitated condition of the King's health
gave increased hopes to the prince's party. The Queen,
therefore, induced him to hold levees and appear more
frequently in public. His improvement in health and
good humour w^as a matter of disappointment to those
who wished him dying, and feared to see him grow
popular.
The animosity of the Queen and her daughter, Caro-
line, against the Prince of Wales was ferocious.^ The
mother cursed the day on which she had borne the son
who was for ever destroying her peace, and would end,
she said, by destroying her life. There was no oppro-
brious epithet which she did not cast at him ; and they who
surrounded the Queen and princess had the honour of
daily hearing them hope that God would strike the son
and brother dead with apoplexy. Such enmity seems
incredible. The gentle Princess Caroline's gentlest name
for her brother was ' that nauseous beast;' and in running
over the catalogue of crimes of which she declared him
capable, if not actually guilty, she did not hesitate to say
' To wliat ex tint it was so can only be understood by those who poriise
the Memoirs of tins court by Lord Ilervey.
CAROLINE VVILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 315
that he was capable of murdering even those Avhom he
caressed. Never was family circle so cursed by dissension
as this royal circle; in which the parents hated the son,
the son the parents ; the parents deceived one another, the
husband betrayed the wife, the wife deluded the husband,
the children were at nuitual antagonism, and truth was a
stranger to all.
3^6 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
CHAPTER VII.
THE BIRTH OF AN HEIRESS.
Russian invasion of the Crimea — Announcement of an heir disbelieved by
the Queen — Princess of Wales conveyed to St. James's by the Prince in
R state of labour — Birth of a Princess — Hampton Court Palace on this
night — The palace in an uproar — Indignation of Caroline — Reception of
the Queen by the Prince — Minute particulars afforded her by him —
Explanatory notes between the royal familj' — Message of the King — His
severity to the Prince — The Princess Amelia double-sided — Message of
Princess Caroline to the Prince — Unseemly' conduct of the Prince — The
Prince an agreeable ' rattle ' — The Queen's anger never subsided — The
Prince ejected from the palace — The Queen and Lord Carteret — Recon-
ciliation of the royal family attempted — Popularity of the Prince — The
Queen's outspoken opinion of the Prince — An interview between the
King, Queen, and Lord Ilervey — Bishop Sherlock and the Queen — The
King a purchaser of lottery-tickets.
The parliament, having passed a Land-tax bill of two
shillings in the pound, exempted the Prince of Wales
from contributing even the usual sixpence in the pound
on his civil-list revenue, and settled a dowry on his wife
of 50,000/. per annum, peremptorily rejected Sir John
Bernard's motion for decreasing the taxation which
weighed most heavily on the poor.^ The public found
matter for much speculation in these circumstances, and
they alternately discussed them with the subject of the
aggressive ambition of Eussia. The latter power was
then invading the Crimea with two armies under Munich
and Lasci. The occupier of the Muscovite throne stooped
to mendacity to veil the real object of the war ; and there
were Russian officers not ashamed to be assassins —
■ Salmon's ' Chronological Historian.'
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 317
murdering the wounded foe wliom they found lying
lielpless on their path.^
The interest in all home and foreign matters, how-
ever, was speedily lost in that which the public took in
the matter, which soon presented itself, of the accession
of an heir in the direct hereditary line of Brunswick.
The prospect of the birth of a lineal heir to the
throne ought to have been one of general joy in a family
whose own possession of the crown was contested by the
disinherited heir of the Stuart line. The prospect, how-
ever, brought no joy with it on the present occasion. It
was not till within a month of the time for the event
that the Prince of Wales officially announced to his
father, on the best possible authority, the probability of
the event itself. Caroline appears at once to have dis-
believed the announcement. She was so desirous of the
succession falling to her second son, William, that she
made no scruple of expressing her disbelief of what, to
most other observers, was apparent enough. She
questioned the princess herself, with more closeness than
even the position of a mother-in-law could justify ; but for
every query the well-trained Augusta had one stereo-
typed reply — ' I don't know.' Caroline, on her side,
resolved to be better instructed. ' I will positively be
present,' she exclaimed, ' when the promised event takes
place ; ' adding, with her usual broadness of illustration,
' It can't be got through as soon as one can blow one's
nose ; and I am resolved to be satisfied that the child is
hers.'
These suspicions, of which tlic Queen made no secret,
were of course well known to her son. He was offended
by them ; offended, too, at a peremptory order that
the birth of the expected heir should take place in
1 Suwarrow's ' JNIilitary Catechism ' contains the atrocious hint, that a
wounded foeman may become a dangerous enemy.
3l8 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
Hampton Court Palace ; and lie was, moreover, stirred
up by his political friends to exhibit his own independ-
ence, and to oppose the royal wish, in order to show
that he had a proper spirit of freedom.
Accordingly, twice he brought the princess to London,
and twice returned with her to Hampton Court. Each
time the journey had been undertaken on symptoms of
indisposition coming on, which, however, passed away.
At length one evening, the prince and princess, after
dining in public with the King and Queen, took leave of
them for the night, and withdrew to their apartments.
Up to this hour the princess had appeared to be in her
ordinary health. Tokens of supervening change came on,
and the prince at once prepared for action. The night
(the 31st of July) was now considerably advanced, and
the Princess of Wales, who had been hitherto eager to
obey her husband's wishes in all things, was now too ill
to do anything but pray against them. He would not
listen to such petitions. He ordered his ' coach ' to be
got ready and brought round to a side entrance of the
palace. The lights in the apartment were in the mean-
time extinguished. He consigned his wife to the strong
arms of Desnoyers, the dancing-master, and Bloodworth,
an attendant, who dragged, rather than carried, her down
stairs. In the meantime, the poor lady, whose life was
in very present peril, and sufferings extreme, prayed
earnestly to be permitted to remain where she was.
Subsequently she protested to the Queen that all that
had been done had taken place at her own express
desire ! However this may be, the prince answered her
prayers and moans by calling on her to have courage ;
upbraiding her for her folly ; and assuring her, with a
very manly complacency, that it was nothing, and would
soon be over ! At length the coach was reached. It
was the usually capacious vehicle of the time, and into it
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 319
got not only the prince and princess, but Lady Archibald
Hamilton and two female attendants. Vriad, who was
not only a valet-de-chanibre^ but a surgeon and accoucheur,
mounted the box. Blood worth, the dancing-master, and
two or three more, got up behind. The prince enjoined
the strictest silence on such of his household as remained
at Hampton Court, and therewith the coach set off,
at a gallop, not for the prince's own residence at Kew,
but for St. James's Palace, which was at twice the
distance.
At the palace nothing was prepared for them. There
was not a couch ready for the exhausted lady, who had
more than once on the road been, as it seemed, upon the
point of expiring ; not even a bed was ready for her to
lie down and repose upon. No sheets were to be found
in the whole palace — or at least in that part over which
the prince had any authority. For lack of them,
Frederick and Lady Hamilton aired a couple of table-
cloths, and these did the service required of them.
In the meantime, notice had been sent to several
officers of state, and to the more necessary assistants re-
quired, to be present at the imminent event. Most of
the great officers were out of the way. Li lieu of them
arrived the Lord President, Wilmington, and the Lord
Privy Seal, Godolphin. In their presence was born a
daughter, whom Lord Hervey designated as ' a little rat '
and described as being ' no bigger than a tooth-pick
case.'
Perhaps it was the confusion which reigned before
and at her birth which had some influence on her intel-
lects in after life. She was an extremely pretty child,
not without some mental qualifications ; but she became
remarkable for making observations which inflicted pain
and embarrassment on those to whom they were addressed.
In after years, she also became the mother of that Caro-
320 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
line of Brunswick who herself made confusion worse con-
founded in the family into which she was received as a
member — that Caroline whom we recollect as the consort
of George IV. and the protectress of Baron Bergami.
At Hampton Court, the King and Queen, conclud-
ing that their dear son and heir had, with his consort,
relieved his illustrious parents of his imdesired presence
for the night, thought of nothing so little as of that son
having taken it into his head to perform a trick which
might have been fittingly accompanied by the ' Beggars'
Opera ' chorus of ' Hurrah for the Eoad ! '
No comedy has such a scene as that enacted at Hamp-
ton Court on this night. While the prince was carrying
off the princess, despite all her agonising entreaties, the
rest of the royal family were quietly amusing themselves
in another part of the palace, unconscious of what was
passing. The King and the Princess Amelia were at
commerce below-stairs ; the Queen, in another apartment,
was at quadrille ; and the Princess Caroline and Lord
Hervey were soberly playing at cribbage. They separated
at ten, and were all in bed by eleven, perfectly ignorant
of what had been going on so near them.
At a little before two o'clock in the morning, Mrs.
Tichborne entered the royal bedchamber, when the Queen,
Avaking in alarm, asked her if the palace was on fire.
The faithful servant intimated that the prince had just
sent word that her royal higliness was on the point of
becoming a mother. A courier had just arrived, in fact,
with the intelligence. The Queen leaped out of bed and
called for her ' morning gown,' wherein to hurry to the
room of her daui>liter-in-law. When Tichborne intimated
that she would need a coach as well as a gown, for that
her royal highness had been carried oJfT to St. James's,
the Queen's astonishment and indignation were equally
great. On the news being communicated to the King,
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 32 1
his surprise and wrath were not less than the Queen's, but
lie did not fixil to blame his consort as well as his son.
She had alk)wed herself to be outwitted, he said ; a false
child would despoil her own offspring of their rights ; and
this was the end of all her boasted care and management
for the interests of her son William ! He hoped that
Anne would come from Holland and scold her. ' You
deserve,' he exclaimed, ' anything she can say to you,'
The Queen answered little, lest it should impede her in
her haste to reach London. In half an hour she had left
the palace accompanied by her two daughters, and at-
tended by two ladies and three noblemen. The party
reached St. James's by four o'clock.
As they ascended the staircase, Lord Hervey invited
her Majesty to take chocolate in his apartments after she
had visited the princess. The Queen replied to the invi-
tation ' with a wink,' and a significant intimation that she
certainly would refuse to accept of any refreshment at
the hands of her son. One would almost suppose that
she expected to be poisoned by him.
The prince, attired, according to the hour, in night-
gown and cap, met his august mother as she approached
his apartments, and kissed her hand and cheek, according
to the mode of his country and times. He then entered
garrulously into details that would have shocked the de-
licacy of a monthly nurse ; but, as Caroline remarked, she
knew a good many of them to be ' lies.' She was cold
and reserved to the prince ; but when she approached the
bedside of the princess, she spoke to her gently and
kindly — womanly, in short ; and concluded by expressing
a fear that her royal highness had suffered extremely, and
a hope that she was doing well. The lady so sympathis-
ingly addressed, answered, somewhat flippantly, that she
had scarcely suffered anything, and that the matter in
question was almost nothing at all. Caroline transferred
VOL. I. Y
0^2 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
her sympathy from the young mother to her new-born
child. The latter was put into the Queen's arms. She
looked upon it silently for a moment, and then exclaimed
in French, her ordinary language, ' May the good God
bless you, poor little creature ! here you are arrived in a
most disagreeable world.' The wish failed, but the asser-
tion was true. The * p(X)r little creature ' was cursed
with a long tenure of life, during which she saw her hus-
band deprived of his inheritance, heard of his violent
death, and partici[)ated in family sorrow, h«avy and un-
deserved.
After pitying the daughter thus born, and commise-
ratinsr the mother who bore her, Caroline was condenmed
to listen to the too minute details of the journey and
its incidents, made by her son. She turned from these
to shower her indignation upon those who had aided
in the flight, and without whose succour the flight itself
could hardly have been accomplished. She directed her
indignation by turns upon all ; but she let it descend with
peculiar heaviness upon Lady Archibald Hamilton, and
made it all the more pungent by the comment, that, con-
sidering Lady Archibald's mature age, and her having
been the mother of ten children, she had years enough,
and experience enough, and offspring enough, to have
taught her better things and greater wisdom. To all
these winged words, the lady attacked answered no fur-
ther than by turning to the prince, and repeating, ' You
see, sir ! ' as though she would intimate that she had
done all she could to turn him from the evil of his ways,
and had gained only unmerited reproach for the exercise
of a virtue, which, in this case, was likely to be its own
and its only reward 1
The ])rince was again inclined to become gossiping
and offensive in his details, but his royal mother cut him
short ])y l)idding him get to bed ; and with this message
CAROLINE VVILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 323
by way of farewell, she left tlie room, descended the stair-
case, crossed the court on foot, and proceeded to Lord
Hervey's apartments, where there awaited her gossip
more Avelcome and very superior chocolate.
Over their ' cups,' right merry were the Queen and
her gallant vice-chamberlain at the extreme folly of the
royal son. They were too merry for Caroline to be in-
dignant, further than her indignation could be shown by
designating her son by the very rudest possible of names,
and showing her contempt for all who had helped him in
the night's escapade. She acknowledged her belief that
no foul play had taken place, chiefly because the child
was a daughter. This circumstance was in itself no proof
of the genuineness of the little lady, for if Frederick had
been desirous of setting aside his brother William, his
mother's favourite, from all hope of succeeding to the
throne, the birth of a daughter was quite as sufficient for
the purpose as that of a son.^ The Queen comforted her-
self by remarking that, at all events, the trouble she had
taken that night was not gratuitous. It would at least, as
she delicately remarked, be a ' good grimace for the
public,' who would contrast her parental anxiety with the
marital cruelty and the filial undutifulness of the Prince
of Wales.
While this genial pair were thus enjoying their choco-
late and gossip, the two princesses, and two or three of
the noblemen in attendance, were doing the same in an
adjoining apartment. Meanwhile Walpole had arrived,
and had been closeted with the prince, who again had the
supreme felicity of narrating to the unwilling hstener all
the incidents of the journey, in telling which he, in fact,
gave to the minister the opportunity which (jyges was
afforded by Caudaides, or something very like it, and for
1 Hervey makes this remark, but it was originally made by Walpole.
3^4 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
Avliich Frederick merited, if not the fate of the heathen
husband, at least tlie next severe penaUy short of it.
The sun was up long before tlie royal and ilkistrious
party dispersed. The busy children of industry, wlio saw
the Queen and her equipage sweep by them along the
Western Eoad, must have been ]:)erplexed with attempts
at guessing at the causes of her Majesty being so early
abroad, in so wayworn a guise. The last thing they
could then have conjectured was the adventure of the night
—tlie scene at Hampton Court, the (light of the son with
his wife, the pursuit of the royal mother with her two
daughters, the occurrence at St. James's— or, indeed,
any of the incidents of the stirring drama tliat had l>een
played out.
From the hour when royalty had been suddenly
aroused to that at which the Queen arrived at Hamp-
ton Court Palace— eight in the morning, George H.
had troubled himself as little with conjecturing as his
subjects. When the Queen detailed to him all that had
passed, he poured out the usual amount of paternal wrath,
and of the usual quality. He never was nice of epithet,
and least of all when he had any to bestow upon his son.
It was not spared now, and what was most liberally <nveu
was most bitter of quality.
Meanwhile, both prince and princess addressed to
their Majesties explanatory notes in French, which ex-
plained nothing, and which, as far as regwds the prince's
notes, were in poor French and worse spelling. Every-
thing, of course, had been done for the l>est ; ami the sole
regi-et of the younger couple was, that they had somehow,
they could not guess how or wherefore, incurred the
displeasure of the King and Queen. To be restored to
the good opinion of the latter was, of course, the one
object of the involuntary offenders' lives. In short, they
had had their way ; and, having enjoyed that exquisite
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 325
felicity, they were not' reluctant to pretend that they were
extremely penitent for what had passed.
The displeasure of Caroline nnd her consort at the
unfeeling conduct of Frederick was made known to the
latter neither in a sudden nor an undignified way. It
was not till the 10th of September that it may be said to
have been officially conveyed to the prince. On that
day the King and Queen sent a message to him from
Hampton Court, by the Dukes of Grafton and Richmond
and the Earl of Pembroke, who faithfully acquitted them-
selves of their unwelcome commission at St. James's.
The message was to the effect, that " the whole tenor of
the prince's conduct for a considerable time had been so
entirely void of all real duty, that their Majesties had long
had reason to be highly offended with him ; and, until he
withdrew his regard and confidence from those by whose
instigation and advice he was directed and encouraged
in Ills unwarrantable behavioiu- to his Majesty and the
Queen, and until he should return to his duty, he should
not reside in a palace belonging to the King, which his
Majesty would not suffer to be made the resort of those
who, inider the appearance of an attachment to the prince,
fomented the divisions which he had made in his family,
and thereby weakened the common interest of the whole.'
Their Majesties further made known their pleasure that
' the prince should leave St. James's, with all his family,
when it could be done without prejudice or inconvenience
to the princess.' His Majesty added, that ' he should, for
the present, leave the care of his grand-daughter until a
proper time called upon him to consider of her educa-
tion.' In consequence of this message, the prince re-
moved to Kew on the 14th of September.
The King and Queen now not only treated their son
with extraordinary severity, and spoke of him in the
coarsest possible language, but they treated in like manner
326 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
all wlio were suspected of aiding and counselling him.
Tiieir wrath was especially directed against Lord Carteret,
who had nt first deceived them. That noble lord cen-
sured, in then- hearing, a course of conduct in the prince
which he had himself suggested, and, in the hearing of
the heir-a}>parent, never failed to praise. When their
Majesties discovered this double-dealing, and that an
attempt was being made to convince the people that in
the matter of the birth of the princess royal, the Queen
alone was to blame for all the disagreeable incidents at-
tendintr it, their anijer was extreme. The feelino; for
Lord Carteret was shown when Lord Hervey one day
spoke of him with some commiseration — his son having
run away from school, and there being no intelligence of
him, except that he had formed a very improper mar-
riage. ' Why do you pity him ?' said the King to Lord
Hervey : ' I think it is a very just punishment, that, while
he is acting the villainous part he does in debauching the
minds of other people's children, he should feel a little
what it is to have an undutiful jHippy of a son himself!'
Fierce, indeed, was the family feud, and undignified
as fierce. The Princess Amelia is said to have taken as
double-sided a line of conduct as Lord Carteret himself;
for which she incurred the ill-will of both parties. The
prince declared not onl}^ that he never would trust her
agam, but that, should he ever be reconciled with the
King and Queen, his first care should be to inform them
that she had never said so much harm of him to tlion as
she had of them to him. The Princess Caroline was the
more fierce partisan of the mother whom she loved,
from the fact that she saw how her brother was endea-
vouring to direct the public feeling against tlie Queen.
She was, however, as little dignified in her fierceness as
the rest of her family. On one occasion, as Desnoyers,
the dancing-master, had concluded his lesson to tlie young
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA, 327
princesses, and was about to return to the prince, wlio
made of him a constant companion, the Princess Caroline
bade him inform his patron, if the latter should ever ask
him what was thought of his conduct by her, that it was
her opinion that he and all who were with him, except
the Princess of Wales, deserved hanging. Desnoyers
delivered the message, with the assurances of respect given
by one who acquits himself of a disagreeable commission to
one whom lie regards. ' How did the prince take it ? '
asked Caroline, when next Desnoyers appeared at Hamp-
ton Court. ' Well, madam,' said the dancing-master, ' he
first spat in the fire, and then observed, " Ah, ah ! Des-
noyers ; you know the way of that Caroline. That
is just hke her. She is always like that ! " ' ' Well, M.
Desnoyers,' remarked the princess, ' when next you see
him again, tell him that I think his observation is as
foolish as his conduct.'
The exception made by the Princess Caroline of the
Princess of Wales, in the censure distributed by the
former, was not undeserved. She was the mere tool of
her husband, who made no confidante of her, had not yet
appreciated her, but kept her in the most complete igno-
rance of all that was happening around her, and much of
which immediately concerned her. He used to speak of
the office of wife in the very coarsest terms ; and did not
scruple to declare that he would not be such a fool as his
father was, who allowed himself to be ruled and deceived
by his consort.
In the meantime, he treated his mother with mingled
contempt and hypocrisy. When, nine days after the
birth of the little Princess Augusta, the Queen and her
two daughters again visited the Princess of Wales, the
prince, who met her at the door of the bedchamber,
never uttered a single w^ord during the period his mother
remained in the room.
328 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
He was as silent to liis sisters ; but he was ' the agree-
able " rattle " ' witli the members of the royal suite. The
Queen remained an hour ; and when she remarked that
she was afraid she was troublesome, no word fell from
the ])rince or princess to persuade her to the contrary.
When the royal carriage had arrived to conduct her
away, lier son led her downstairs, and at the coach door,
* to make the mob believe that he was never wantino- in
any respect, he kneeled down in the dirty streetj and
kissed her hand. As soon as this operation was over, he
put her Majesty into the coach, and then returned to the
steps of his own door, leaving his sisters to get through
the dirt and the mob, by themselves, as they could. Nor
did there come to the Queen any message, either from
the prince or princess, to thank her afterwards for the
trouble she had taken, or for the honour she had done
them in this visit.' This was the last time the mother and
son met in this world. Horace Walpole well observes of
the scene that it must have caused the Queen's indignation
to shrink into mere contempt.
The Queen's wrath never subsided beyond a cold
expression of forgiveness to the prince when she was on
her death -bed ; but she resolutely refused to see him
when that solemn hour arrived, a few months subse-
quently. She was blamed for this ; but her contempt
was too deeply rooted to allow her to act otherwise to
one who had done all he could to embitter the peace of
his father. She sent to him, it is said, her blessing and
pardon ; ' but conceiving the extreme distress it woidd
lay on the King, should he thus be forced to forgive so
impenitent a son, or to banish him if once recalled, she
heroically preferred a meritorious husband to a worthless
child.' '
Had tlie prince been sincere in his expressions when
' Lord Ih'ivev.
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 329
addressing eitlier of his parents by letter after the deh-
very of his wife, it is not impossible but that a reconcilia-
tion might have followed. His studied disrespect to-
wards the Queen was, liowever, too strongly marked to
allow of this conclusion to the quarrel. He invariably
omitted to speak of her as ' your Majesty ; ' Madam, and
you^ were the simple and familiar terms employed by him.
Indeed, he more than once told her that he considered
that the Prince of Wales took ])recedence of the Queen-
consort ; at which Caroline would contemptuously laugh,
and assure her ' dear Fritz ' that he need not })ress the
point, for even if she were to die, the King could not
marry him !
It was for mere annoyance' sake that he declared, at
the end of August, after the christening of his daughter,
that she should not l)e called the ' Princess Augusta,' but
the ' Lady Augusta,' according to the old English fashion.
At the same time lie declared that she sliould be styled
' Your Eoyal Highness,' although such style had never
been used towards his own sisters before their father's
accession to the crown.
It will hardly be thought necessary to go through the
documentary history of what passed between the Sove-
reigns and their son before he was finally ejected from St.
James's Palace. Wrong as he was in his quarrel, ' Fritz '
kept a better temper, though with as bitter a spirit as
his parents. On the 13th of September, the day before
that fixed on for the prince's departure, ' the Queen, at
breakfast, every now and then repeated, I hope in God T
shall never see him again ; and the King, among many
other ])aternal douceurs in his valediction to his son,
said : Thank God ! to-morrow night the puppy will be
out of my house.' The Queen thought her son would
rather like, than otherwise, to be made a martyr of; but
it was represented to her, that however much it might
330 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
have suited liiin to be made one politically, there was
more disgrace to him personally in the [)resent expulsion
than he Avould like to digest. The King maintained that
his son had not sense of his own to find this out ; and
that as he listened only to boobies, fools, and madmen,
he was not likely to have liis case truly represented to
him. And then the King ran through the list of his son's
household ; and Lord Carnarvon was set down as being
as coxcombical and irate a fool as his master ; Lord
Townshend, for a proud, surly booby ; Lord North, as a
poor creature ; Lord Baltimore^ as a trimmer ; and
' Johnny Lumley ' (the brother of Lord Scarborough),
as, if nothing else, at least ' a stuttering puppy.' Such, it
is said, were the followers of a prince, of whom his royal
mother remarked, that he was ' a mean fool ' and ' a
poor-spirited beast.'
While this dissension was at its hottest, the Queen fell
ill of the gout. She was so unwell, so weary of being in
bed, and so desirous of chatting with Lord Hervey, that
she now for the first time broke through the court eti-
quette, which would not admit a man, save the Sovereign,
into the royal bed-chamber. The noble lord was witli
her there during the whole day of each day that her con-
finement lasted. She was too old, she said, to liave the
honour of being talked of for it ; and so, to suit lier
humour, the old ceremony was dis])enscd with. Ijord
Hervey sate by her bed-side, gossiped the live-long daj'' ;
and on one occasion, when the Prince of Wales sent Lord
North with a message of enquiry after her health, he
amused the (iueen l)y turning tlie message into very slip-
shod verse, the ])oint of wliich is at once obscure and ill-
natured, l)ut wliich seenis to imply that the prince would
have been well content had the gout, instead of being in
her foot, attacked her stomach.
'i'he ]>rince had been guilty of" no such indecenc}^ as
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 33 1
this ; but there was no lack of provocation to make him
commit himself. When he was turned out of St. James's,
he was not permitted to take with him a single article of
furniture. Tlie royal excuse was, that the furniture had
been purchased, on the prince's marriage, at the King's
cost, and was his Majesty's property. It was suggested
that sheets ought not to be considered as furniture ; and
that the prince and princess coidd not be expected to
carry away their dirty linen in baskets. ' Why not ? '
asked the Kinor ; ' it is s^ood enousfh for them ! '
Such were the petty circumstances with which Caro-
line and her consort troubled themselves at the period in
question. They at once hurt their own dignity and
made their son look ridiculous. The great partisan of
the latter (Lord Baltimore) did not rescue his master from
ridicule by comparing his conduct to that of the heroic
Charles XII. of Sweden. But the comparison was one to
be expected from a man whom the King had dechu-ed to
be, in a great degree, a booby, and, in a trilling degree,
mad.
As soon as the prince had established himself at Kew,
he was waited on by Lord Carteret, Sir William W3"nd-
ham, and Mr. Pulteney. The King could not conceal
his anger under an affected contempt of these persons or
of their master. He endeavoured to satisfy himself by
abusing the latter, and by remarking that ' they would
soon be tired of the ])uppy, who was, moreover, a
scoundrel and a fool ; and who would talk more fiddle-
faddle to them in a day than any old woman talks in a
week.'
The prince continued to address letters both to the
King and Queen, full of affected concern, expressed in
rather impertinent phrases. The princess addressed otliers,
in which she sought to justify her husband's conduct ;
but as in all these notes tliere was a studied disrespect of
332 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
Caroline, the King would neither consent to grant an
audience to tlie offenders, nor would the Queen interfere
to induce Iiini to relent.
Tlie Queen, indeed, did not scruple to visit with lier
disjjleasure all those courtiers who showed themselves
inclined to bring about a reconciliation ; and yet she
nianit'ested some leaning towards Lord Carteret, the chief
ati^ent of her son. This disposition alarmed Walpole, who
took upon himself to remind her that her minister could
serve her purpose better than her son's, and that it was
of tlie utmost importance that she should conquer in this
strife. ' Is your son to be bought ? ' said Walpole. ' If
you will buy him, I will get him cheaper than Carteret,'
Caroline answered only with ' a flood of grace, good
words, favour, and professions' of having full confidence
in lier own minister — that is, Walpole himself — who had
served her so long and so faithfully.
A trait of Caroline's character may here be mentioned,
as indicative of how she could help to build uj) her own
reputation for shrewdness by using the materials of
others. Sir Robert Walpole, in conversation with Lord
Hervey, gave him some account of an interview he had
had with the Queen. The last-named gentleman believed
all the great minister had told him, because the Queen
herself had, in sj)eaking of the subject to Lord Hervey.
used the precise terms now employed by Walpole. The
subject was the lukewarmness of some of the noblemen
about coiut to serve the King : the expression used was
— ' People who keep hounds must not hang every one
that runs a little slower than the rest, provided, in the
main, they will go with the pack ; one must not expect
them all to run just alike and to be equally good.' Hervey
told Walpole of the use made by the Queen of this
plirase, and Sir Robert naturally enough remarked, ' \\(i.
was always glad when he heard she repeated as her own
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. H^S
any notion he had endeavoured to infuse, because it was
a sign wliat he had laboured had taken place.'
Meanwhile tlie prince was of himself doing little that
could tend to anything else tlian widen the breach already
existing between him and his family. He spoke aloud
of what he would do when he came to be King. His in-
tentions, as reported by Caroline, were that slie, when
she was Queen-dowager, should be ' fleeced, flayed, and
minced.' The Princess Amelia was to be kept in strict
confinement ; the Princess Caroline left to starve ; of the
little princesses, Mary and Louisa, then about fourteen
and thirteen years of age, he made no mention ; and of
his brother, the Duke of Cumberland, he always spoke
' with great affectation of kindness.'
Despite this imprudent conduct, endeavours continued
to be made by the prince and his friends, in order to
bring about the reconciliation wliich nobody seemed very
sincere in desiring. The Duke of Newcastle had implored
the Princess Ameha, ' For God's sake ! ' to do licr utmost
' to persuade the Queen to make things up with the
prince before this affair was pushed to an exti'emity
which might make the wound incurable.' The Queen is
said to have been exceedingly displeased with the Duke
of Newcastle for thus interfering in the matter. The
Princess of Wales, however, continued to write hurried
and apparently earnest notes to the Queen, thanking her
for her kindness in standing godmother to her daughter,
treating her with ' Your Majesty,' and especially defend-
ing her own husband, while aflecting to deplore that his
conduct, misrepresented, had incurred the displeasure of
their Majesties. ' I am deeply afflicted,' so runs a note of
the 17th of September, 'at the manner in which the
prince's conduct has been represented to your Majesties,
especially with regard to the two journeys wliich we
made from Hampton Court to London the week previous
'334 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
to my coiilhicmeiit. I dare ussure your Majesties, tliat
the medical man and midwife were then of opinion that
I shoidd not be confined before the mouth of September",
and that the indij^})o.sition of wliich I com[)hiined was
notliing more tlian tlie cholic. And besides, madam, is it
credible, that if I had gone twice to London with the
design and in the expectation of being confined there, I
should have returned to Hampton Court? I flatter my-
self that time and the good offices of your Majesty will
bring about a happy change in a situation of affairs, the
more deplorable for me inasmuch as I am the innocent
cause of it,' &c.
This letter, delivered as the King and Queen were
going to chapel, was sent by the latter to Walpole, who
repaired to the royal closet in the chapel, where Caro-
line asked him what he thouglit of this last performance ?
The answer was very much to the purpose. Sir Eobert
said, he detected ' you lie, you lie, you lie, from one end
of it to the other.' Caroline agreed that the lie was flung
at her by the writer.
There was as much discussion toucliing the reply which
should be sent to this grievously offending note as if it
had been a protocol of the very first importance. One
was for having it smart, another formal, another so shaped
that it should kindly treat the princess as blameless, and
put an end to further correspondence, with some gene-
ral wishes as to the future conduct of ' iVitz.' This was
done, and tlie letter was despatched. What effect it had
upon the conduct of the person alluded to may be dis-
cerned in the fact that when, on Thursday, the 22nd of
Septembei", tlie prince and princess received at Carlton
House the Tjord Mayor and Corporation of London, with
an address of congratulation on the birth of the Princess
Augusta, the lords of the prince's present council distri-
buted to everybf.xly in the room copies of the King's mes-
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 335
sage to the prince, ordering liim to qnit St. James's, and
containing reflections against all persons who might even
visit the prince. The lords, particularly the Duke of
Marlborough and Lords Chesterfield and Carteret, de-
plored the oppression under which the Prince of Wales
struggled. His highness also spoke to the citizens in terms
calculated — certainly intended — to win their favour.
He did not acquire all the popular favour he expected.
Thus, when, during the repairs of Carlton House, he occu-
pied the residence of the Duke of Norfolk, in St. James's
Square — a residence which the duke and duchess refused
to let to him, until they had obtained the sanction of the
King and Queen — 'he reduced the number of his inferior
servants, which made him many enemies among the lower
sort of people.' He also diminished his stud, and ' farmed
all his tables, even that of the princess and liimself.' In
other words, his tables were supplied by a cook at so
much per h.ead.
His position was one, however, which was sure to
procure for him a degi-ee of popularity, irrespective of
his real merits. The latter, however, were not great nor
numerous, and even his own officers considered their
interests far before those of him they served — or deserted.
At the theatre, however, he was the popular hero of the
hour, and when once, on being present at the representa-
tion of ' Cato,'^ the words —
When Tice prevailsi aud impious men bear sway,
The post of honour is a private station—
were received with loud huzzas, the prince joined in the
cipplause, to show how he appreciated, and perhaps applied,
the lines.
Although the King's alleged oppression towards his
son was publicly canvassed by the latter, the prince and
' Quin played the hero.
33^ LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
liis followers iuvaiiubly named the Uiieeii as the true
author of it. The latter, in commenting on this lilial
course, constantly sacrificed her dignity. ' My dear
lord,' said Caroline, once, to Lord llervey, ' I will give it
you under my hand, if you have any fear of my relapsing,
that my dear first-born is the greatest ass, and the
greatest liar, and the greatest canaille., and the greatest
beast, in the whole world, and that I most heartily wish
he was out of it I ' The King continued to treat him in
much the same strain, adding, courteously, that he had
often asked the Queen if the beast were his son. 'The
Queen was a great while,' said he, ' before her maternal
affection would give him up for a fool, and yet I told her
so before he had been acting as if he had no common
sense.' While so hard upon the conduct of their son, an
entry from Lord Hervey's diary will show us what was
their own : the King's with regard to decency, the
Queen's with respect to truth.
Whilst the Queen was talking one morning touching
George I.'s will and other family matters, with Lord
Hervey, ' the King opened her door at the further
end of the gallery ; upon which the Queen chid Lord
Hervey for coming so late, saying, that she had several
things to say to him, and that he was always so long in
coming, after he was sent for, that she never had any
time to talk with him. To which Lord Hervey replied,
that it was not his fault, for that he always came the
moment he was called ; that he wished, with all his
heart, the King had more love, or Lady Deloraine more
wit, that he might have more time with her Majesty ; but
that he thought it very hard that he should be snubbed
and repi'oved because the King was old and Tiady
Deloraine a fool. This made the Queen laugh ; and the
King asking, when he came up to her, what it was at, she
said it was at a conversation Lord Hervey was reporting
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 33/
between the prince and Mr. Lyttelton, on his being made
secretary. The King desired him to repeat it. Lord
Hervey got out of the difficulty as he best could. When
the Queen and my lord next met, she said : " I think I was
one with you for your impertinence.'' To which Lord
Hervey replied, " The next time you serve me so, madam,
perhaps I may be even with you, and desire your
Majesty to repeat as well as report." ' ^
It may be noticed here, that both Frederick and the
Queen's party published copies of the French corre-
spondence which had passed between the two branches of
the family at feud, and that in the translations appended
to the letters, each party was equally unscrupulous in
giving such turns to the phrases as should serve only one
side, and injure the adverse faction. Bishop Sherlock,
who set the good fashion of residing much within his
own diocese, once ventured to give an opinion upon the
prince's conduct, which at least served to show that the
prelate was not a very finished courtier. Bishops who
reside within their dioceses, and trouble themselves little
with what takes place beyond it, seldom are. The bishop
said that the prince had lacked able counsellors, had weakly
played his game into the King's hands, and made a
blunder which he would never retrieve. This remark
provoked Caroline to say — ' I hope, my lord, this is not
the w^ay you intend to speak your disapprobation of my
son's measures anywhere else ; for your saying that, by
his conduct lately, he has played his game into the King's
hands, one would imagine you thought the game had
been before in his own ; and though he has made his
game still worse than it was, I am far from tJiinking
it ever was a good one, or that he had ever much chance
to win.'
Caroline, and indeed her consort also, conjectured
* Lord Hervey'8 ' Memoirs.'
VOL. L Z
T,3^ LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
that tlie public voice and opinion were expressed in
favour of the occupants of the throne from the fact, that
the birtliday drawing-room of the 30th of October was
the most splendid and crowded which had ever been
known since the King's accession. That King himself
probably little cared whether he were popular or not.
He was at this time buying hundreds of lottery- tickets,
out of the secret-service money, and making presents of
them to Madame Walmoden. A few fell, })erhaps, to
the share of Lady Deloraine : ' He'll give her a couple of
tickets,' said Walpole, ' and think her generously used.'
His Majesty woidd have rejoiced if he could have divided
so easily his double possession of England and Hanover.
He had long entertained a wish to give the Electorate to
his second son, William of Cumberland, and entertained
a very erroneous idea that the English parhament could
assist him in altering the law of succession in the Electo-
rate. Caroline had, perhaps, not a much more correctly
formed idea. She had a conviction, however, touching
her son, which was probably better founded. ' I knew,'
she said, ' he would sell not only his reversion in the
Electorate, but even in this kingdom, if the Pretender
would give him five or six hundred thousand pounds in
present ; but, thank God ! he has neither right nor power
to sell his fiimily — though his folly and his knavery may
sometimes distress them.'^
' This matter, only alluded to by Lord Chesterfield, is treated at very
great length by \j^\-A IlerFey.
03y
CHAPTER VIII.
DEATH OF CAROLINE.
Indisposition of the Queen — Her anxiety to conceal the cause — Walpole
closeted with her — Her illness assumes a grave character — Obliged to
retire from the Drawing-room — Affectionate attentions of Princess Caro-
line — Conliuued bitter feeling towards the Prince — Discussions of the
physicians — Queen takes leave of the Duke of Cumberland — Parting
scene with the King — Interview with Walpole — The Prince denied the
palace — Great patience of the Queen — The Archbishop summoned to the
palace — Eulogy on the Queen pronounced by the King — His oddities-
The Queen's exemplary conduct — Her death — Terror of Dr. Hulse—
Singular conduct of the King — Opposition to Sir R. Walpole— Lord
Chesterfield pays court to the Prince's favourite.
After the birth of the Princess Louisa, on the 12th of
December, 1724, CaroHne, then Princess of Wales, was
more than ordinarily indisposed. Her indisposition was
of such a nature that, though she had made no allusion
to it herself, her husband spoke to her on the subject.
Tlie princess avoided entering upon a discussion, and
sought to satisfy the prince by remarking that her indis-
position was nothing more than what was common to
lier health, position, and circumstances. For some years,
although the symptoms were neglected, the disease was
not aggravated. At length more serious indications were
so perceptible to George, who was now King, that he did
not conceal his opinion that she was suffering from rup-
ture. This opinion she combated with great energy, for
she had a rooted aversion to its being supposed that she
was afflicted with any complaint. She feared lest the
fact, being known, might lose her some of her husband's
z 2
340 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
regard, or load people to think tliat with personal in-
firmity her power over him liad been weakened. The
King again and again urged lier to acknowledge that she
suffered from the complaint he had named, and to have
medical advice on the subject. Again and again she
refused, and each time with renewed expressions of dis-
pleasure; until at last, the King, contenting himself with
expressing a hope that she would not have to repent of
her obstinacy, made her a promise never to allude to the
subject again without her consent. The secret, however,
was necessarily known to others also ; and we can only
wonder that, being so known, more active and effective
measures were not taken to remedy an evil which, in our
days, at least, formidable as it may appear in name, is so
successfidly treated as almost to deserve no more serious
appellation than a mere inconvenience.
Under an appearance of, at least, i'Aw health. Queen
Caroline may be said to have been gradually decaying for
years. Her pride and her coiu^age would not, however,
allow of this being seen; and when she rose, as was her
custom, to curtsey to the King, not even George himself
was aware of the pain the effort cost her. Sir Eobert
Walpole was long aware that she suffered greatly from
some secret malady, and it was not till after a long period
of observation that he succeeded in discovering her
Majesty's secret. He was often closeted with her, arrang-
ing business that they were afterwards to nominally
transact in presence of the King, and to settle, as he
imagined, according to his will and pleasure. It was on
some such occasion that Sir Eobert made the discovery
in question. The minister's wife had just died ; she was
about the same age as Caroline, and the Queen put to
the minister such close, physical questions, and adverted
so frequently to the subject of rupture, of which Sir
Robert's wife did not die, that tlic minister at once came
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 341
to the conclusion tliat lier Majesty was lierself suffering
from that complaint.^ This was the case : but tlie fact
was only known to the King himself, her German nurse
(Mrs. Mailborne), and one other person. A curious
scene often occurred in her dressing-room and the ad-
joining apartment. During the process of the morning
toilette, prayers were read in the outer room by her
Majesty's chaplain, the latter kneeling the while beneath
the painting of a nude Venus — which, as Dr. Madox, a
royal chaplain on service, once observed, was a ' very
proper altar-piece.' On these occasions, Walpole tells us
that, ' to prevent all suspicion, her Majesty would fre-
quently stand some minutes in her shift, talking to her
ladies, and, though labouring with so dangerous a com-
plaint, she made it so invariable a rule never to refuse a
desire of the King, that every morning, at Richmond, she
walked several miles with him ; and more than once,
when she had the gout in her foot, she dipped her whole
leg in cold water to be ready to attend him. The pain,
her bulk, and the exercise, threw her into such fits of
perspiration as routed the gout ; but those exertions
hastened the crisis of her distemper.'
In the summer of 1737 she suffered so seriously,
that at lengtli, on the 26th of August, a report spread over
the town that the Queen was dead.^ The whole city at
once assumed a guise of mourning-— gay summer or
cheerful autumn dresses were withdrawn from the shop
windows, and nothing was to be seen in their place but
' sables.' The report, however, was unfounded. Her
Majesty had been ill, but one of her violent remedies had
restored her for the moment. She was thereby enabled
to walk about Hampton Court with the King ; but she
was not equal to tlie task of coming to London on the
29th of the same month, when her grand-daughter
1 Horace Walpole. ^ Salmon's ' Chronological Historian.'
342 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
Augusta was christened, and King, Queen, and Dueliess
of Saxe Gotlia stood sponsors, by tlieir proxies, to the
future mother of a future Queen of England.
At length, in November 1737, the crisis above alluded
to occurred, and Caroline's illness soon assumed a very
grave character. Her danger, of which she was well
aware, did not cause her to lose lier presence of mind,
nor her dignity, nor to sacrifice any characteristic of her
disposition oy reigning passion.
It was on Wednesday morning, the 9tli of November,
that the Queen was seized with the illness which ultimately
proved fatal to her. She was distressed with violent in-
ternal pains, which Dafiy's Elixir, administered to her by
Dr. Tessier, could not allay. The violence of the attack
compelled her to return to bed early in the morning ; but
her courage was great and the King's pity small, and
consequently she rose, after resting for some hours, in
order to preside at the usual Wednesday's drawing-room.
The King had great dislike to see her absent from this
ceremony ; without her, he used to say, there was neither
grace, gaiety, nor dignity ; and, accordingly, she went to
this last duty with the spirit of a wounded knight who
returns to the field and dies in harness. She was not
able long to endure the fatigue. Lord Hervey was so
struck by her appearance of weakness and suffering, that
he urged her, with friendly peremptoriness, to retire from
a scene for which she was evidently unfitted. The Queen
acknowledged her inability to continue any longer in the
room, but she could not well break up the assembly
without the King, who was in another part of the room,
discussing the mirth and merits of the last uproarious
burlesque extravaganza, ' The Dragon of Wantley.' All
London was then flocking to Covent Garden to hear
Lampe's music and Carey's hght nonsense ; and Eyan's
llamlet was not half so much cared for as Reinhold's
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 34J
Dragon, nor Mrs. Vincent's Ophelia so much esteemed as
the Margery and Mauxahnda of the two Misses Young.
At length, his Majesty having been informed of the-
Queen's serious indisposition, and her desu^e to withdraw,
took her by the liand to lead her away, roughly notic-
ing, at the same time, that she had ' passed over ' the
Duchess of Norfolk. Caroline immediately repaired her
fault by addressing a few condescending words to that old
well-wisher of her family. They were the last words she
ever uttered on the public scene of her grandeur. All
that followed was the undressing after the great drama
was over.
In the evening Lord Hervey again saw her. He had
been dining with the French ambassador, and he returned
from the dinner at an hour at wliich people now dress
before they go to such a ceremony. He was again at the
palace by seven o'clock. His duty authorised him, and
his inchnation prompted him, to see the Queen. He found
her suffering from increase of internal pains, violent sick-
ness, and progressive weakness. Cordials and various calm-
ing remedies were prescribed, and while they were being
prepared, a httle ' usquebaugh ' was administered to her ;
but neither whisky, nor cordials, nor calming draughts
could be retained. Her pains increased, and therewith
her strength diminished. She was throughout this day
and night affectionately attended by the Princess Carohne,
who was herself in extremely weak health, but who would
not leave her mother's bedside till two o'clock in the
morning. The King then relieved her, after his fashion,
which brought rehef to no one. He did not sit up to
watch the sufferer, but, in his morning gown, lay outside
the bed, by the Queen's side. Her restlessness was very
great, but the King did not leave her space enough even
to turn in bed ; and he was so uncomfortable that he was
kept awake and ill-tempered throughout the night.
344 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
Oil the following day the Queen was bled, but without
producing any good effect. Her illness visibly increased,
and George was as visibly affected by it. Not so much
so, however, as not to be concerned about matters of
di'ess. With the sight of the Queen's suffering before his
eyes, he remembered that he had to meet the foreign
ministers that day, and he was exceedingly particidar in
directing tlie pages to see that new rutiles were sewn to
his old shirt-sleeves, whereby he might wear a decent air
in the eyes of the representatives of foreign majesty. The
Princess Caroline continued to exhibit unabated sympathy
for the mother who had perhaps loved her better than
any other of her daughters. The princess was in tears
and suffering throughout the day, and almost needed as
much care ab the royal patient herself ; especially after
losiug much blood by the sudden breaking of one of the
small vessels in the nose. It was on this day that, to aid
Broxholm, who had hitherto prescribed for the Queen,
Sir Hans Sloane and Dr. Hulse were called in. They
prescribed for an obstinate internal obstruction which
could not be overcome ; and applied blisters to the legs —
a remedy for which both King and Queen had a sovereign
and silly disgust.
On the 1 J th, the quiet of the palace was disturbed by
a message from the Prince of Wales, making enquiry after
the condition of his mother. His declared filial affection
roused the King to a pitch of almost ungovernable fury.
The royal father flung at the son every missile in his well-
stored vocabulary of abuse. There really seemed some-
thing devilish in this spirit at such a time. In truth,
however, the King had good ground for knowing that the
assurances of the i)rince were based upon the most patent
hypocrisy. The spirit of the dying Queen was nothing
less fierce and bitter against the prince and his adiierents —
CAROLINE IVILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 345
that ' Cartouche gang,' as she was wont to designate them.
There was no touch of mercy in her, as regarded lier
feehngs or expressions towards him ; and her epithets were
not less degrading to the utterer and to the object against
whom they were directed, than the King's. She begged
her husband to keep her son from her presence. She had
no faith, she said, in his assertions of concern, respect, or
sympathy. She knew he would approach her with an
assumption of grief; would listen dutifully, as it might
seem, to her laments ; would 'blubber like a calf at her
condition ; and laugh at her outright as soon as he had
left her presence.
It seems infinitely strange that it was not until the 12th
of the month that the King hinted to the Queen the pro-
priety of her physicians knowing that she was suffering
from rupture. Caroline listened to the suggestion with
aversion and displeasure ; she earnestly entreated that
what had hitherto been kept secret should remain so.
The King apparently acquiesced, but there is Httle doubt
of his having communicated a knowledge of the fact to
Eanby, the surgeon, who was now in attendance. Wlien
the Queen next complained of violent internal pain, Eanby
approached her, and she directed his hand to the spot
where she said she suffered most. Like the skilful man
that he was, Eanby contrived at the same moment to satisfy
himself as to the existence of the more serious complaint;
and having done so, went up to the King, and spoke to
him in a subdued tone of voice. The Queen immediately
suspected what had taken place, and, ill as she was, she
railed at Eanby for a ' blockhead.' The surgeon, however,
made no mystery of the matter ; but declared, on the
contrary, that there was no time to be lost, and that active
ti-eatment must at once be resorted to. The discovery of
the real malady which was threatening the Queen's life,
346 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
and wliicli would not have been perilous had it not been
so stT'angely neglected, cost Caroline the only tears she
shed throughout her trying illness.
Shipton and the able and octogenarian Bussier were
now called in to confer with the other medical men. It
was at first proposed to operate with the knife ; but ulti-
mately it was agreed that an attempt should be made to
reduce the tumour by less extreme means. The Queen
bore the necessary treatment patiently. Her chief watcher
and nurse was still the gentle Princess Carohne. The
latter, however, became so ill, that the medical men insisted
on bleeding her. She would not keep her room, but lay
dressed on a couch in an apartment next to that in which
lay her dying mother. Lord Hervey, when tired with
watching — and his post was one of extreme fatigue and
anxiety — slept on a mattress, at the foot of the couch of
the Princess Caroline. The King retired to his own bed,
and on this night the Princess Amelia waited on her mother;
The following day, Sunday, the 13th, was a day of
much solemnity. The medical men announced that the
wound from which the Queen suffered had begun to
mortify, and that death must speedily supervene. The
danger was made known to all ; and of all, Carohne exhi-
bited the least concern. She took a solemn and dignified
leave of her children, always excepting the Prince of Wales.
Her parting with her favourite son, the young Duke of
Cumberland, was touching, and showed the depth of her
l(jve for him. Considering her avowed partiality, there
was some show of justice in her concluding counsel to him
that, should his brother Frederick ever be King, he sliould
never seek to mortify him, but simply try to manifest a
superiority over him only by good actions and merit. She
spoke kindh' to her daughter Amelia, but much more than
kindly to the gentle Caroline, to whose care she consigned
her two youngest daughters, Louisa and Mary. She
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 347
appears to have felt as little inclination to see her daughter
Anne, as she had to see her son Frederick. Indeed, inti-
mation had been given to the Prince of Orange to the
eflect that not only was the company of the princess not
required, but that should she feel disposed to leave Holland
for St. James's, he was to restrain her, by power of his
marital authority.
The parting scene with the King was one of mingled
dignity and farce, toucliing incident and crapulousness.
Caroline took from her finger a ruby ring, and put it on a
finger of the King. She tenderly declared that whatever
greatness or happiness had fallen to her share, slie had
owed it all to him ; adding, with something very like pro-
fanity and general unseemhness, that naked she had come
to him and naked she would depart from him ; for that all
she had was his, and she had so disposed of her own that
he should be her heir. The singular man to whom she thus
addressed herself acted singularly ; and, for that matter, so
also did his dying consort. Among her last recommenda-
tions made on this day, was one enjoining him to marry.
The King, overcome, or seemingly overcome, at the idea
of being a widower, burst into a flood of tears. Tlie
Queen renewed her injunctions that after her decease he
should take a second wife. He sobbed aloud ; but amid
his sobbing he suggested an opinion that he thought that,
rather than take another wife, he would maintain a mistress
or two. * Eh, mon Dieu!' exclaimed Caroline, 'the one
does not prevent the other ! Cela newpeche pas f
A dying wife might have shown more decency, but she
could hardly have been more complaisant. Accordingly,
when, after the above dignified scene had been brought to
a close, the Queen fell into a profound sleep, George kissed
her unconscious cheeks a hundred times over, expressed an
opinion that she would never wake to recognition again,
and gave evidence, by his words and actions, how deeply
348 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
he really regarded the dyhig woman before him. It hap-
pened, however, that she did wake to coiijsciousiiess again ;
and then, with his usual inconsistency of temper, he snubbed
as much as he soothed her, yet without any deliberate
intention of being unkind. She expressed her conviction
tliat she should survive till the Wednesday. It was lier
peculiar day, she said. She had been born on a Wednes-
day, was married on a Wednesday, first became a mother
on a Wednesday, was crowned on a Wednesday, and she
was convinced she should die on a Wednesday.
Her expressed indifference as to seeing Walpole is in
strong contrast with the serious way in which she did hold
converse with him on liis being admitted to a parting
inteiview. Her feeling of mental superiority over the
King was exhibited in her dying recommendation to the
minister to be careful of the Sovereign. This recom-
mendation being made in the Sovereign's presence was but
little relished by the minister, who feared that sucli a
bequest, with the Queen no longer alive to afford him
protection, might ultimately work his own downfall.
George, however, was rather grateful than angry at the
Queen's commission to Wal})ole, and subsequently re-
minded him with grave good-humour, that Ae, the minister,
required no protection, inasmuch as the Queen had rather
consigned the King to the protection of the minister ; and
* his kindness to the minister seemed to increase for the
Queen's sake.'
The day which opened with a sort of despair, closed
with a faint prospect of hope. The surgeons declared that
the mortification had not progressed ; and Lord Hervey
does not scruple to infer that it had never begun, and that
the medical men employed were, like most of their col-
leagues, profoundly ignorant of tliat with which tliey
professed to be most dee[)ly acquainted. The fairer
prospect was made known to tlie Queen, in order to
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 349
encourage her, but Caroline was not to be deceived. At
twenty-five, she remarked, she might iiave dragged through
it, but at fifty-five it was not to be thouglit of. She still
superstitiously looked to the Wednesday as the tei'm of
her career.
All access to the palace had been denied alike to the
Prince of Wales and to those who frequented his court ;
but in the confusion which reigned at St. James's some
members of the prince's family, or following, did peneti-ate
to the rooms adjacent to that in which lay the royal suflerer,
imder pretence of an anxiety to learn the condition of her
healtli. Caroline knew of this vicinity, called them
' ravens ' waiting to see the breath depart from her body,
and insisted that tliey should not be allowed to approach her
nearer. Ample evidence exists that the conduct of the
Prince of Wales was most unseemly at this solemn juncture.
' We shall have good news soon,' he was heard to say, at
Carlton House : ' we shall have good news soon ; she can't
hold out much longer ! ' There were people who were
slow to believe that a son could exult at the idea of the
death of his mother. These persons questioned his
'favourite,' Lady Archibald Hamilton, as to the actual
conduct and language adopted by him ; and at such ques-
tions the mature mistress would significantly smile, as
she discreetly answered : ' Oh, he is very decent ! '
The prospect of the Queen's recovery was quite illusory
and short-lived. She grew so rapidly worse, that even the
voices of those around her appeared to disturb her ; and a
notice v/as pinned to the curtain of her bed, enjoining all
present to speak only in the lowest possible tones. Her
patience, however, was very great : she took all that was
ofi'ered to her, however strong her own distaste ; and when
operations were proposed to lier, she submitted at once,
on assurance from the King that he sanctioned what the
medical men proposed. She did not lose her sprightly
350 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
humour even when under the knife; and she once remarked
to Ranby, when slie was thus at his mercy, that she dared
say he was half sorry it was not liis own old wife he was
thus cutting about. But the flesh will quiver where the
pincers tear ; and even from Caroline terrible anguish
would now and then extort a groan. She bade the sur-
geons, nevertheless, not to heed her silly complaints, but to
do their duty irrespective of her grumbling.
All this time there does not appear to have been the
slightest idea in the mind either of the sufferer or of those
about her that it would be well were Caroline enabled to
make her peace with God. The matter, however, did
occiupy the public thought ; and public opinion pressed so
strongly, that, rather than offend it, Walpole himself recom-
mended that a priest should be sent for. The recom-
mendation was made to the Princess Amelia, and in the
obese minister's usual coarse fashion. ' It will be quite as
well,' he said, ' that the farce should be played. The
Archbishop of Canterbury (Potter) would perform it
decently ; and the princess might bid him to be as short
as she liked. It would do the Queen neither harm nor
good ; and it would satisfy all the fools who called them
atheists, if they affected to be as great fools as they who
called them so ! '
Dr. Potter accordingly was summoned. He attended
morning and evening. The King, to show his estimation
of the person and his sacred office, invariably kept out of
hi« wife's apartment while the archbishop was present.
What passed is not known ; but it is clear that the primate,
if he prayed with the Queen, never administered the sacra-
ment to her. Was this caused by her irreconcilable hatred
against her son ?
It is said that her Majesty's mistress of the robes, Luady
Sundon, had influenced the Queen to countenance none
but the heterodox clergy. Her conduct in her last moments
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 35 I
was consequently watched with mingled anxiety and curi-
osity by more than those who surrounded her. Tlie pubHc
generally were desirous of being enlightened on the subject.
The public soon learned, indirectly at least, that the arch-
bishop had not administered to the Queen the solemn rite.
On the last time of his issuing from the royal bedchamber,
he was assailed by the courtiers with questions like this : —
' My lord, has the Queen received ? ' All the answer given
by the primate was, ' Gentlemen, her Majesty is in a most
heavenly frame of mind.' This was an oracular sort of
response ; and it may be said that if the Queen was in a
heavenly frame of mind, she must have been at peace with
her son, as well as with all men, and therefore in a condi-
tion to receive the administration of the rite with profit
and thankfulness. It was known, moreover, that the
Queen was not at peace with her son, and that she had not
' received ; ' she, therefore, could not have been, as the
archbishop described her, ' in a most heavenly frame of
mind.' All that the public knew of her practical piety
was, that the Queen had been accustomed, or said she had
been accustomed, to read a portion of Butler's ' Analogy '
every morning at breakfast. It was of this book that
Bishop Hoadly remarked, that he could never even look
at it without getting a head-ache.
Meanwhile, the King, who kept close in the palace,
not stirring abroad, and assembling around him a circle
of hearers, expatiated at immense length upon the virtues
and excellences of the companion who was on the eve of
departure from him. There was no known or discover-
able good quality which he did not acknowledge in her ;
not only the qualities which dignify woman, but those
which elevate men. With the courage and intellectual
strength of the latter, she had the beauty and virtue of
the former. He never tired of this theme, told it over
again and again, and ever at an interminable length. The
352 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
most singular item in his monster dissertation was his cool
assurance to liis children and friends that she was the
only woman in the world who suited him for a wife ; and
that, if she had not been his wife, he would rather have
had her for his mistress than any other woman he had
ever seen or heard of.
This was the highest possible praise such a husband
could bestow ; and he doubtless loved his wife as well as
a husband, so trained, could love a consort. His own
sharp words to her, even in her illness, were no proof to
the contrary ; and amid tokens of his uncouth tenderness,
observing her restless from pain, and yet desirous of sleep,
he would exclaim, ' How the devil can you expect to
sleep when you never lie still a moment ? ' This was
meant for affection ; so, too, was the remark made to her
one morning when, on entering her room, he saw her
gazing, as invalids are wont to gaze, idly on vacancy,
' with lack-lustre eye.' He roughly desired her to cease
staring in that disagreeable way, which made her look,
he said, with refined gallantry, just like a calf with its
throat cut !
His praise of her, as Lord Hervey acutely suggested,
had much of self-eulogj' in view ; and when he lauded
her excellent sense, it had especial reference to that ex-
emplification of it when she was wise enough to accept
him for a luisband. He w^earied all hearers with the long
stories which he recounted both of Caroline and himself,
as he sat at night, with his feet on a stool, pouring out
prosily his never-ending narrative. The Princess Amelia
used to endeavour to escape from tlie tediousness of
listening by pretending to be asleep, and to avenge her-
self for being compelled to listen by gross abuse of her
royal father when he left the room — calling him old fool,
liar, coward, and a drivelh^r, of whose stories she was
most heartily sick.
And so matters went on, progressively worse, unt
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 353
Sunday the 20tli — the last day which Carohue was permit-
ted to see upon earth. The circumstances attending the
Queen's death were not without a certain dignity. ' How
long can this last ? ' said she to her physician, Tessier. 'It
will not be long,' was the reply, ' before your Majesty will
be reheved from this suffering.' ' The sooner the better,'
said Caroline. And then she began to pray aloud : and
her prayer was not a formal one, fixed in her memory by
repeating it from the Book of Common Prayer, but a spon-
taneous and extemporary effusion, so eloquent, so appropri-
ate, and so touching, that all the listeners were struck with
admiration at this last effort of a mind ever remarkable for
its vigour and ability. She herself manifested great anxiety
to depart in a manner becoming a great Queen ; and as
her last moment approached, her anxiety in this respect
appeared to increase. She requested to be raised in l3ed,
and asked all present to kneel and offer up a prayer in
her behalf. While this was going on she grew gradually
fointer ; but, at her desire, water was sprinkled upon her,
so that she might revive, and listen to, or join in, the
petitions which her family (all but her eldest son, who
was not present) put up to Heaven in her behalf.
' Louder ! ' she murmured more than once, as some one
read or prayed, ' Louder, that I may hear.' Her request
was complied with ; and then one of her children repeated
audibly tlie Lord's Prayer. In this Caroline joined, re-
peating the words as distinctly as failing nature would
allow her. The prayer was just concluded when she
looked fixedly for a moment at those who stood weeping
around her, and then uttered a long-drawn ' So ! '
It was her last word. As it fell from her lips the dial on
the chimney-piece struck eleven. She calmly waved lier
hand — a farewell to all present and to the world ; and
then tranquilly composing herself upon her bed, she
breatlied a sigh, and so expired. Thus died Caroline ;
VOL. I. A A
354 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
and few Queens of England liave passed away to their
account with more of mingled dignity and indecorum.
On Thursday, the 15th of November 1757, SirEobert
Walpole wrote as follows to his brother Horace : ' The
Queen was taken ill last Wednesday. ... It was explicitly
declai^ed and universally beheved to be gout in the
stomach. . . . The case was thought so desperate that Sir
Hans Sloane and Dr. Hulse were on Friday sent for,
who totally despaired. Necessity at last discovered and
revealed a secret which had been totally concealed
and unknown. The Queen had a ruptiu^e which is
now known not to have been a new accident. . . . But
will it ever be believed that a life of this importance
should be lost, or run thus near, by concealing human
infirmities ? '
To these accounts of the Queen's illness it may be
added that Nichols, in his ' Eeminiscences,' says that Dr.
Sands suggested that a ciure might be effected by injecting
warm water, and that Dr. Hulse approved of the remedy
and method. It was applied, with no one present but the
medical men just named ; and though it signally foiled,
they pronounced it as having succeeded. Their terror
was great; and when they passed through the outer
apartments, where the Duke of Newcastle cougratulatingly
hugged Hulse, on his having saved the Queen's hfe, tlie
doctor struggled with all his might to get away, lest he
should be questioned upon a matter which involved,
perhaps, more serious consequences than he could, in his
bewilderment, then accm-ately calculate.
The Princess Caroline, as soon as the Queen had
apparently passed away, put a looking-glass to her lips,
and finding it unsullied by any breath, calmly remarked,
' 'Tis over ! ' and thenceforward ceased to weep as she had
done while her motlier was dying. The King kissed the
face and hands of his departed consort with unaffected
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 355
fervour. Ilis conduct continued to be as singular as ever.
He was superstitious and afraid of ghosts ; and it was re-
marked on this occasion, that he would have people with
him in his bed- room, as if their presence could have saved
liim from the visitation of a spirit. In private, the sole sub-
ject of his conversation was ' Caroline.' He loved to narrate
the whole history of her early life and his own : their
wooing and their wedding, their joys and vexations. In
these conversations he introduced something about every
person with whom he had ever been in anything like close
connection. It was observed, however, that he never
once mentioned the name of his mother, Sophia Dorothea,
or in any way alluded to her. He purposely avoided the
subject ; but he frequently named the father of Sopliia,
the Duke of Zell, who, he said, was so desirous of seeing
his grandson grow up into an upright man, that the duke
declared he would shoot him if George Augustus should
prove a dishonest one !
Amid all these anecdotes, and tales, and reminiscences,
and praises, there was a constant flow of tears shed for
her who was gone. They seemed, however, to come and
go at pleasure ; for in the very height of his mourning and
depth of his sorrow, he happened to see Horace, the
brother of Sir Eobert Walpole, who was weeping for
fashion's sake, but in so grotesque a manner, that when
the King beheld it, he ceased to cry, and burst into a roar
of laughter.
Lord Hervey foretold that his grief would not be of a
lasting quality ; and, in some degree, he was correct. It
must be confessed, however, that the King never ceased
to respect the memory of his wife. Walpole only thought
of how Georcre mio-ht be ruled now that the Queen was
gone, and he speedily fixed upon a plan. He had been
accustomed, he said, to side with the mother against the
mistress. He would now, he added, side with the mistress
35^ LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
against the cliildren. He it wa?, \vlio proposed that
Madame Wahnoden should now be brought to England ;
and, in a revoltingly coarse observation to the Princess
Caroline, he recommended her, if she would have any
influence with her father, to surround him with women,
and fjovern him through them !
But other parties had been on the watch to lay hold
of the power which had now fallen from the hand of the
dead Caroline.
The dissension in the royal famil}', which was caused
by the conduct of the Prince of Wales at the period of
the birth of his eldest daughter, Augusta, was, of course,
turned to political account. It was made even of more
account in that way when the condition of Caroline
became known. Lord Chesterfield, writing to Mr. Lyttel-
ton from Bath, on the 12th of November 1737, says : ' As
I suppose the Queen will be dead or out of danger before
you receive this, my advice to his royal highness (of
Wales) will come full late ; but in all events it is my
opinion he cannot take too many and too respcctfid
measures towards the Queen, if alive, and towards tlie
King, if she is dead ; but then that respect should be
absolutely personal, and care should be taken that the
ministers shall not have the least share of it.'
At the time when Caroline's indignation had been
aroused by the course adopted by the prince, wlien his
wife was brought from Hampton Court to St. James's for
lier confinement, his royal higimcss had made a state-
ment to Sir Ilobert Walpole and Lord Harrington, w^hich
they were subsequently required to put down in writing
as corroborative evidence of what the prince had said to
the Queen. In reference to the inditers of these ' minutes
of conversation,' Lord Cliesterfield advises that tlie dis-
respect which he recommends the prince to exliil)it to-
wards the ministry sliall 1)0 moro marked ' if in the
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 357
course of these transactions the two evidences should be
sent to, or of themselves presume to approach the prince ;
in which case (says the writer) he ought to show them
personal resentment ; and if they bring any message from
the King or Queen which he cannot refuse receiving, he
sliould ask for it in writing, and give his answer in
writing ; alleging publicly for his reason, that he cannot
venture anything with people who have grossly both be-
trayed and misrepresented private conversation.' ^
Through the anticipated natural death of the Queen,
the opposition hoped to effect the political death of
Walpole. ' In case the Queen dies,' writes Chesterfield,
' I tliink Walpole should be looked upon as gone too,
whether he be really so or no, which will be the most
likely way to weaken him ; for if he be supposed to
inherit the Queen's power over the King it will in some
degree give it him ; and if the opposition are wise, instead
of treating with him, they should attack him most vigor-
ously and personally, as a person who has lost his chief
support. Which is indeed true ; for though he may
have more power with the King tlian any other body,
yet he will never have that kind of power which he had
by her means ; and he will not even dare to mention
many things to tlie King which he could without diffi-
culty have brought about by her means. Pray present
my most humble duty to his roj^al highness,' concludes
the writer, ' and tell him tliat upon principles of personal
duty and respect to the King and Queen (if alive), he
cannot go too far ; as, on tlie other hand, with relation
to the ministers, after what has passed he cannot carry
his dignity too high.' The same strain is continued in a
second letter, wherein it is stated with respect to the
anticipated death of the Queen : ' It is most certain that
Sir Eobert must be in the utmost distress, and can never
' « Lord Chesterfield's Life and Letters, Edited by Lord Mabon.'
358 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
hope to govern the Kmg as the Queen governed him ; '
and he adds, in a postscript : 'We have a prospect of the
Claude Lorraine kind before us, while Sir Robert's has
all the horrors of Salvator Eosa. If the prince would
play the rising sun, he would gild it finely ; if not, he
will be under a cloud, which he will never be able here-
after to shine through.' Finally, exclaims the eager
writer : ' Instil this into the Woman ' — meaning by the
latter the Prince of Wales's ' favoiu'ite,* Lady Archibald
Hamilton, who ' had filled,' says Lord Mahon, ' the
whole of his little court with her kindred.' According to
Horace Walpole, ' whenever Sir William Stanhope met
anybody at Carlton House whom he did not know, he
always said, " your humble servant, Mr. or Mrs. Hamil-
ton."'
A fortnight after Chesterfield contemptuously calls
Lady Archibald ' the Woman,' he begins to see the possi-
bility of her rising to the possession of political influence,
and he says to Mr. Lyttelton : ' Pray, when you see Lady
Archibald, assure her of my respects, and tell her that
I would trouble her with a letter myself, to have acknow-
ledged her goodness to me, if I could have expressed
those acknowledgments to my own satisfaction ; but not
being able to do that, I only deske she would be per-
suaded that my sentiments with regard to her arc what
they ought to be.' ^ In such wise did great men counsel
and intrigue for the sake of a little pre-eminence, which
never yet purchased or brought with it the boon of
happiness.
^ ' Lord Chesterfield's Life aud Letters ; ' ut supra.
359
CHAPTEE IX.
aiEOLINE, HEE TIMES AND COXTEMPOR ARIES.
"Whiston patronised by Queen Caroline — His boldness and reproof of the
Queen — Vanity of the poet Young- punished — Dr. Potter, a high church-
man — A benefice missed — Masquerades denounced by the clergy — Ano-er
of the Court — Warburton, a favourite of the Queen — Butler's ' Analogy,'
her ordinary companion — Rise of Seeker — The Queen's regard for Dr.
Berkeley — Her fondness for witnessing intellectual struggles between
Clarke and Leibnitz — Character of Queen Caroline by Lord Chesterfield
— The King encouraged in his wickedness by the Queen — General gross-
uess of manners — The Iviug managed by the Queen — Feeling exhibited
by the King on sight of her portrait — The Duchess of Brunswick's
daughters — Standard of morality low — Ridicule of Marlborough by Peter-
borough — Morality of General Cadogan — Anecdote of General Webb —
Lord Cobham — Dishonourable conduct of Lord Stair — General Hawlev
and his singular will — Disgraceful state of the prisons, and cruelty to
prisoners — Roads bad and ill-lighted — Brutal punishment — Lisoleut
treatment of a British naval officer by the Sultan — Brutality of a mob —
Encroachment on Hyde Park by Queen Caroline — Ambitious projects of
Princess Anne — Eulogy on the Queen — The children of King George
and Queen Caroline — Verses on the Queen's death,
Much has been said, and many opposite conclusions
drawn, as to the rehgious character of Carohne. In our
days, such a woman would not "130 allowed to wear the
reputation of being religious. In her days, she may with
more justice have been considered so. And yet she was
far below a standard of much elevation. When we hear
her boasting — or rather asserting, as convinced of the
fact — that ' she had made it the business of her hfe to
discharge her duty to God and man in the best manner
she was able,' we have no very favourable picture of her
360 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
humility ; thoiigli at the same time we may acquit her of
hypocrisy.
Her patronage of the well-meaning but mischievous,
the learned but unwise Whiston is quite sufficient to
condemn her in the opinion of many people. Here was
a man who had not yet, indeed, left the Church of
England for the Baptist community, because the Athana-
sian creed was an offence to him, but he had pronounced
Prince Eugene to be the man foretold in the Apocalypse
as the destroyer of the Turkish Empire, had declared
that the children of Joseph and Mary were the natural
brothers and sisters of Christ, set up a heresy in his
' Primitive Christianity Kevived,' made open profession of
Aiianism, boldly made religious prophecies which were
falsified as soon as made, and, more innocently, trans-
lated 'Josephus,' and tried to discover the longitude.
Caroline showed her admiration of heterodox Whiston
by conferring on him a pension of fifty pounds a-year ;
and as she had a regard for the mad scholar, she paid
him with her own hand, and had him as a frequent
visitor at the palace. The King was more guarded in
his patronage of Whiston, and one day said to him, as
King, Queen, and preacher were walking together in Hamp-
ton Court Gardens, that his opinions against Athana-
sianism might certainly be true, but perhaps it would
have been better if he had kept them to himself. Now
Wliiston was remarkable for his wit and his fearlessness,
and looking straight in the face of the man who was
King by right of the Eeformation, and who was the
temporal head of the Church and, cx-officio, Defender of
the Faith, he said : ' If Luther had followed such advice,
I should like to know where your Majesty would have
been at the present moment.' ' Well, Mr. Whiston,' said
Caroline, ' you are, as I have lieard it said you were, a
very free speaker. Are you bold enough to tell me my
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 36 1
fiiults ? ' ' Certainly,' was Whiston's reply. ' There are
many people who come every year from the country to
London upon business. Their chief, loyal, and natural
desire is to see their King and Queen. This desire they
can nowhere so conveniently gratify as at the Chapel
Eoyal. But what they see there does not edify them.
They behold your Majesty talking, during nearly the
whole time of service, with the King — and talking loudly.
This scandalises them ; they go into the country with
false impressions, spread false reports, and effect no little
mischief.' The Queen pleaded that the King would talk
to her, acknowledged that it was wrong, promised amend-
ment, and asked what was the next fault he descried
in her. ' Nay, madam,' said he, ' it will be time enough
to go to the second when your Majesty has corrected the
first.'
What Caroline said of her consort was true enoufj-h.
At chapel, the King, when not sleeping, ivould be talk-
ing. Dr. Young thought, by power of his preaching, to
keep him awake ; but the King, on finding that the new
chaplain was not giving him what he loved, ' a short,
good sermon,' soon began to exhibit signs of somnolency.
Young exerted himself in vain ; and when his Majesty at
length broke forth with a snore, the poet-preacher felt
his vanity so wounded that he burst into tears. Where
Kings and Queens so behaved, no wonder tliat young
ensigns flirted openly with maids of honour, and tliat
Lady Wortley Montague should have reason to write to
the Countess of Bute : ' I confess I remember to have
dressed for St. James's Chapel with tlie same thoughts
your daughters will have at the opera.'
It is not likely that Archbishop Potter was sent for
by Caroline herself in her last illness, for she liked tlie
prelate as little as Whiston himself did. But Potter, the
first of scholars, in spite of the sneers of academical Parr,
362 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
was, although a staunch Whig, and esteemed by Carohne
and her consort for his sermon preached before them at
their coronation, yet a very high churchman, one who
put the throne infinitely below the altar, and thought
kings very far indeed below priests. This last opinion,
however, was very much modified when the haughty pre-
late, son of a Wakefield linendraper, had to petition for
a favour. His practice, certainly, was not perfect, for he
disinherited one son, who married a dowerless maiden
out of pure love, and he left his fortune to the other, who
was a profligate and squandered it.
But even Caroline could not but respect Potter for
his jealousy with regard to the worthily supplying of
cliurch benefices. Just after tlie Queen had congratu-
lated him on being elected to the highest position in the
Church of England, Potter called on a clerical relative, to
announce to him the intention of his kinsman to confer
on him a valuable living. The archl^ishop unfortunately
found his reverend cousin busily engaged at skittles, and
the prelate came upon him just as the apostolic player
was aiming at the centre pin, with the remark, ' Now for
a shy at tlie head of the Church ! ' He missed liis pin,
and also lost his preferment. Neitlier of their Majesties,
however, thought Potter justified in withholding a bene-
fice on such slight grounds of offence. Neither George
nor Caroline approved of clergymen of any rank inveigh-
ing against amusements. I may cite, as a case in point,
the anger with whicli the King, in his heart, visited
Gibson, Bishop of London, for denouncing masquerades,
and for getting up an episcopal address to the throne,
praying ' for the entu'C abohtion of such pernicious diver-
sions.' The son of Sophia Dorothea was especially fond
of masquerades, and his indignation was great at hearing
them denounced l^y Gibson. Tliis boldness shut the
latter out from all chance of succeeding to Canterbury.
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA, 363
Caroline looked with some favour, however, on this
zealous and upright prelate ; and her minister, Walpole,
did nothing to obstruct the exercise of his great eccle-
siastical power. ' Gibson is a pope ! ' once exclaimed one
of the low church courtiers of Carohne's coterie. ' True ! '
was Walpole's reply, ' and a very good pope too ! '
It must be confessed, nevertheless, that the church
and rehgion were equally in a deplorable state just
previous to the demise of Carohne. That ingenious and
learned Northumbrian, Edward Grey, published anony-
mously, the year before the Queen's death, a work upon
' The Miserable and Distracted State of Eehgion in Eng-
land upon the Downfall of the Church Estabhshed.' A
work, however, published the same year, and which much
more interested the Queen, was Warburton's famous
' Alliance between Church and State.' This book brous^ht
again into public notice its author, that William Warbur-
ton, the son of a Newark attorney, who himself had been
la"s\yer and usher, had denounced Pope as an incapable
poet, and had sunk into temporary oblivion in his Lincoln-
shke rectory at Brant Broughton. But his ' Alhance
between Church and State ' brought him to the notice of
Queen Caroline, to whom his book and his name were
introduced by Dr. Hare, the Bishop of Chichester. Caroline
liked the book and desired to see the author ; but her last
fatal illness was upon her before he coidd be introduced,
and Warburton had to write many books and wait many
years before he found a patron in Murray (Lord Mansfield)
who could help him to preferment.
Queen Caroline made of Butler's * Analogy of Eeligion,
Natural and Eevealed, to the Constitution and Com^se of
Nature' a sort of light-reading book, which was the ordinary
companion of her breakfast-table. Caroline may have
liked to dip into such profound fountains ; but I doubt
whether she often looked into the ' Analogy,' as it was not
364 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
published till 1736, when her malady was increasing, and
her power to study a work so abstruse must have been
much diminished. Still she admired the learned divine,
who was the son of a Wantage shopkeeper, and who was
originally a Presbyterian Dissenter — a community for
which German Protestant princes and princesses have
always entertained a considerable regard. Caroline
did not merely admire Butler because high churchmen
looked upon him, even after his ordination, as half a
dissenter ; she had admired his Polls Sermons, and when
Seeker, another ex-Presbyterian whom Butler had induced
to enter the clnirch, introduced and recommended him to
Queen Caroline, she immediately appointed him clerk of
the closet. It could have been very little before this, that
Seeker himself — who had been a Presbyterian, a doctor, a
sort of sentimental vagabond on the Continent, and a free-
thinker to boot — had been, after due probation and regular
progress, appointed rector of St. James's. Walpole declares
that Seeker owed this preferment to the favour of the
Queen, and Seeker's biographers cannot prove much to
the contrary. At the period of Caroline's death he was
Bishop of Bristol, and that high dignity he is also said to
have owed to the friendship of Caroline. I wish it were
only as true, that when the Prince of Wales was at enmity
with the King and Queen, and used to attend St. James's
Church, his place of residence being at Norfolk House, in
the adjacent square — I wish, I say, it were true that Seeker
once preached to the prince on tlie text, ' Honour thy
iiither*and mother.' Tlie tale, however, is a])0cryphal ;
but it is true that the prince himself, at the period of the
family quarrel, was startled, on entering the church, at
hearing Mr. Bonny, the clerk in orders, rather pointedly
beginning tlie service with, ' I will arise, and go to my
father, and will say unto him, Father, I have sinned,' &c.
But, perhaps, of all the members of the church, Caro-
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 365
line felt regard for none more than for Berkeley. He had
been an active divine long, indeed, before the Queen
visited him with her favour. His progress had been
checked by his sermons in favour of passive obedience
and non-resistance — sermons which were considered not
so much inculcating loyalty to Brunswick as denouncing
the revolution which opened to that house the way to the
throne. Berkeley had also incurred no little public wrath
by destroying the letters which Swift's Vanessa had be-
queathed to his care, with a sum of money for the express
purpose of their being published. But, on the other
hand, he had manifested in various ways tlie true spirit of
a Christian and a philosopher, and had earned immortal
honour by his noble attempt to convert the American
savages to Christianity. But it was his ' Minute Philo-
sopher' — his celebrated work, the object of which was to
refute scepticism, that gained for him the distinction of
the approval of Caroline. The expression of such approval
is warrant for the Queen's sincerity in the cause of true
religion. So dehghted was the Queen with this work, tliat
she procured for its author his nomination to the Bishopric
of Cloyne. Never was reward more nobly earned, more
worthily bestowed, or more gracefully conferred. It did
honour alike to the Queen and to Berkeley; and it raised
the hopes of those who were ready to almost despair of
Christianity itself, when they saw that Eeligion yet had its
great champions to uphold her cause, and that, however
indifferent the King might be to the merits of such
champions, the Queen herself was ever eager to acknow-
ledge their services and to rcconrpcnse them largely as
they merited.
In controversial works, however, Caroline always
delighted. She had no greater joy in this way than
setting Clarke and Leibnitz at intellectual struggle, watch-
ing the turns of the contest with interest, suggesting,
o
66 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
amending, adding, or diminishing, and advising every
well-laid blow, by whichever antagonist it was delivered.
It may be asked, Was there not in all this rather more love
of intellectual than of rehgioiis pm^suits ? The reader
must judge.
Caroline loved the broad Enghsh comedy of her time,
and saw no harm in the very broadest. She was espe-
cially fond of the ' Queen of Comedy,' Mrs. Oldlield,
but affected to be a little shocked at the way in which
she was living with General Churchill. One day, when
Mrs. Oldfield had been reading at Windsor, and was
walking on the terrace with the court, the Queen said to
her, ' I hear, Mrs. Oldfield, that you and the General are
married.' ' Madam,' answered the actress, playing her
very best, ' the General keeps his own secrets.' After
Mrs. Oldfield's death, the Queen bought her collection of
plays for a hundred and twenty guineas.
Lord Chesterfield says of Caroline, in his lively way,
that ' she was a woman of lively, pretty parts.' She
merits, however, a better epitaph and a more sagacious
chronicler. ' Her death,' adds the noble rom^ ' was
regretted by none but the King. She died meditating
projects which must have ended either in her own ruin or
that of the country.' Dismissing, for the present, the last
part of this paragraph, we will say that Caroline was
mourned by more than by the Iving ; but by none so
deeply, so deservedly, so natiu'ally as by him. He had
not, out of affection for her, been less selfish or less vicious
than his inclinations induced him to be. He was faithless
to her, but he never ceased to respect her ; and in those
days a husband of whom nothing worse could be said
was rather exemplary of conduct than otherwise. It was
a sort of decorum by no means common. One could
have almost thought him uxorious ; for he not only allowed
himself to be directed in all important matters requiring
CAROLINE IVILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 367
judgment and discretion by the guidance of lier more
enlightened mind, but he never drew a picture of beauty
and propriety in woman but all the hearers felt that the
original of the picture was the Queen herself. It is
strange, setting aside more grave considerations for the
rule of conduct, that, with such a wife, he should have
hampered himself with ' favourites.' These he neither
loved nor respected. A transitory liking and the evil
fashion of tlie day had something to do with it ; and
besides, he had a certain feeling of attachment for women
who were obsequious and serviceable. These he could
rule, but his wife ruled liim. Nor could the women be
compared. Sir Robert Walpole, an unexceptionable
witness in this case, asserts that the King loved his wife's
little finger better than he did Lady Suffolk's whole body.
For that reason it was that Walpole himself so respectfully
kissed the small, plump, and graceful hand of the Queen
rather than propitiate the good-will of the favourite.
Caroline shared the vices in which her husband in-
dulged, by favouring the indulgence. She was not the
more excusable for this because Archdeacon Black-
burn and other churchmen praised her for encouraging
the King in his wickedness. Her ground of action was
not founded on virtuous principle. She sanctioned, nay
promoted, the vicious way of life followed by her con-
sort merely that she might exercise more power politi-
cally and personally. She depreciated her own worth
and attractions in order to heighten those of the favourites
whom the King most affected, and by way of apologising
for his being attracted from lier to them. Actually, she
had as little regard for married faith as the King him-
self. The Queen regarded his doings with such com-
placency as to give rise to a belief that she had never
cared for the King, and was therefore jealouslessly in-
different as to the disgraceful tenor of his life. An allu-
368 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
sioii was once made in lier presence, when the Duke of
Grafton was by, to lier having in former times not been
imailected by the suit of a German prince. ' G — d,
madam,' said the duke, in the fashionable blasphemous
style of the period, ' I should like to see the man you
coidd love ! ' ' See him ?' said the Queen, laughingly ; do
you not then think that I love the King? ' G — d, madam,'
exclaimed the ostentatious blasphemer, ' I only wish I
were King of France, and I would soon be sure whether
you did or did not.'
Caroline has been laughed at for her patronage of
such a poet as Duck. She had wit enough to see the
merit of Gay. On her accession she offered him the
honourable post of gentleman-usher to the Princess
Louisa — a sinecure worth 200/. a-year, and a stepping-
stone to other preferment ; Gay peremptorily and scorn-
fully declined the offer. Accordingly, Gibber was pre-
ferred to Gay for the post of laureate. Caroline had
always been kind to this ' tetchy' poet. In 1724, when
Gay's play, ' The Captives,' had failed on the stage, she
invited him to read it at Leicester House. On beinsf
ushered into the august company. Gay, nervous from long
waiting, tragedy in hand, bashful and blundering, fell
over a stool, thereby threw down a screen, and set his
illustrious audience in a comical sort of confusion, amid
which the kind-hearted princess did her best to put Gay
at ease in his perplexities.
Tlie King — to return to that royal widower — indubit-
ably mourned over his loss, and regarded with some rag,
as it were, of the dignity of affection her memor}^ and
that with a tearful respect. He was for ever talking of
her, even to his mistress ; and Lady Yarmouth (as
Madame Walmoden was called), as well as others, had to
listen to the well-conned roll of her queenly virtues, and
to the royal conjectures as to wliat the advice of Caroline
CAROLINE IVILHELMIXA DOROTHEA. 369
would have been in certain supervening contingencies.
There was something noble in his remark, on orderino-
the payment to be continued of all salaries to her officers
and servants, and all her benefactions to benevolent insti-
tutions, that, if possible, nobody should suffer by her death
but himself. We almost pity the wretched but imbecile old
man too, when we see him bursting into tears at the
sight of Walpole, and confessing to him, with a helpless
shaking of the hands, that he had lost the rock of his
support, his warmest friend, his wisest counsellor, and
that henceforth he must be dreary, disconsolate, and suc-
courless, utterly ignorant whither to turn for succour or
for sympathy.
This feeling never entirely deserted him ; albeit, he
continued to find much consolation where he had done
better not to have sought it. Still, the old memory would
not entirely fade, the old fire would not entirely be
quenched. ' I hear,' said he, once to Baron Brinkman,
as he lay sleepless, at early morn, on his couch, ' I hear
you have a portrait of my wife, which was a present from
her to you, and that it is a better likeness than any I have
got. Let me look at it.' The portrait was brought, and
so placed before the King that he could contemplate it
leisurely at his ease. ' It is like her,' he murmured.
' Place it nearer me and leave me till I ring.' For two
^vhole hours the baron remained in attendance in an ad-
joining room, before he was again summoned to his
master's presence. At the end of that time, he entered
tlie King's bedroom, on being called. George looked up
at him, with eyes full of tears, and muttered, pointing to
the portrait : ' Take it away ; take it away ! I never
3'et saw the woman worthy to buckle her shoe.' And
then he arose, and went and breakfasted with Lady Yar-
mouth.
A score of years after Caroline's death, he continued
VOL. I. BE
37° LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
to speak of her only with emotion. His vanity, however,
disposed him to be considered gallant to the last. In
1755, being at Hanover, he was waited upon by the
Duchess of Brunswick-Wolfenbiittel and all her un-
married daughters. The provident and maternal duchess
had an object, and she was not very far from accomplish-
ing it. The King considered all these young ladies w^ith
the specidative look both of a connoissem* and an amateur.
He was especially struck by the beauty of the eldest, and
he lost no time in proposing her as a match to his grand-
son and heir-apparent, George, Prince of Wales, then
in his minority. The prince, at the prompting of his
mother, very peremptorily declined the honom' which
had been submitted for his acceptance, and the young
princess, her mother, and King George were all alike
profoundly indignant. ' Oh ! ' exclaimed the latter with
ardent eagerness, to Lord Waldegrave, ' oh, that I were
but a score of years younger, this young lady should not
then have been ex2:)osed to the indignity of being refused
by the Prince of Wales, for I would then myself have
made her Queen of England ! That is to say, that if the
young Princess of Brunswick-Wolfenbiittel could only have
l)een introduced to him while he was sittincj under the
shadow of the great sorrow which had fallen upon him
by the death of Caroline, he woidd have fomid solace for
his grief by offering her his hand. However, it was now
too late, and the gay old monarch, taking his amber-
headed cane, feebly picked his way to Lady Yarmouth
and a game at ombre.
Lord Chesterfield allowed Caroline some desfree of
female knowledge. If by this he would infer that she
had only a portion of the knowledge which was com-
monly possessed by the ladies her contemporaries, his
lordship does her great injustice. Few women of her
time were so well instructed ; and she was not the less
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 37 1
well-taiiglit for being iu a great degree self-taugiit. She
Diay liave been but superficially endowed in matters of
theology and iu ancient history ; but, what compensated
at least for the latter, she was well acquainted with what
more immediately concerned her, the history of her own
times. Lord Chesterfield further remarks, that Carohne
would have been an agTeeable woman in social life if she
had not aimed at being a great one in pubhc life. This
would imply that she had doubly failed, where, in truth,
she had doubly succeeded. She was agreeable in the
circle of social, and she not merely aimed at, but achieved,
greatness in public hfe. She was as great a queen as
queen could become in England under the circumstances
in which she was placed. Without any constitutional
right, she ruled the country with such wisdom that her
right always seemed to rest on a constitutional basis. There
was that in her, that, had her destiny taken her to Eussia
instead of Enoiand, she would have been as Catherine
was in all but her uncleanness ; not that, in purity of
mind, she was very superior to Catherine the Unclean.
The following paragraph in Lord Chesterfield's cha-
racter of Carohne is less to be contested than others in
wdiich the noble author has essayed to pourtray the
Queen. ' She professed wit, instead of concealing it ;
and valued herself on her skill in simulation and dissimula-
tion, by which she made herself many enemies, and not one
friend, even among the women the nearest to her person.'
It may very w^ell be doubted, however, whether any
sovereign ever had a ' friend ' in the true acceptation of
that term. It is much if they acquire an associate whose
interest or inclination it is to be faithful ; but such a person
is not a friend.
Lord Chesterfield seems to warm against her as he
proceeds in his pictiu'e. ' Cunning and perfidy,' he says,
' were the means she made use of in business, as all
ZT^ UVES 01' THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
women do for want of a better.' Tliis blow is dealt at
one poor "woman merely for the purpose of smiting all.
Caroline, no doubt, was full of art, and on the stage of
public life was a mere, but most accomplished, actress.
It must be remembered, too, that she was surrounded by
cunning and perfidious people. Society was never so
imprincipled as it was during her time ; and yet, amid its
imutterable corruption, all women were not crafty and
treacherous. There were some noble exceptions ; but
these did not lie much in the way of the deaf and dis-
solute earl's acquaintance.
' She had a dangerous ambition,' continues the same
author, ' for it was attended with courage, and, if she had
hved much longer, might have proved fatal either to her-
self or the constitution.' It is courage like Carohne's
which plucks peril from ambition, but does not indeed
make the latter less dangerous to the people ; which is,
perhaps, what Chesterfield means. With respect to tlui
Queen's religion, he says : ' After puzzling herself in
all the whimsies and fantastical speculations of diflerent
sects, she fixed herself ultimately in Deism, believing in a
future state.' In this he merely repeats a story, which,
probably, originated with those whose views on church
questions were of a ' higher ' tendency than those of her
Majesty. And after repeating others, he contradicts him-
self; for he has no sooner stated that the Queen Avas not
an ao-reeable woman, because she aimed at beinj^ a izreat
one, than he adds, ' Upon the whole, the agreeable
icoinan was liked by most ])eople — but the Queen was
neither esteemed, beloved, nor trusted by anybody but
the King.' At least, she was not despised by everybody;
and that., considering the times in which she lived, and
the discordant parties over whom she really reigned, is
no slight commendation. It is a praise which cannot be
awarded to the King.
CAROUNE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 373
Let US add, that not only lias Cliesterfield said of
Caroline that she settled down to Deism, ' believing^ in a
future state,' but he has said the same, and in precisely
the same terms, of Pope and — upon Pope's authorit}^ — of
Atterbury, Bishop of Eochester. Here is at least a double
and, perhaps, as we should hope, a triple error.
The popular standard of morality was deplorably low
throughout the reigns of the first two Georges. Marl-
borough was ridiculed for the unwavering fidelity and
affection which he manifested towards his wife. There
were few husbands like him, at the time, in either
respect. He was satirised for being superior to almost
irresistible temptations ; he was laughed at for having
prayers in his camp — for turning reverently to God before
he turned fiercely against his foes; the epigrammatists were
particularly severe against him because he was honest
enough to pay his debts and live within his income. But
' Jiis meanness ? ' Well, his meanness might rather be
called prudence ; and if his censurers had nourished in
themselves something of the same quality, it would have
been the better for themselves and their contemporaries,
and, indeed, none the worse for their descendants. One
of the alleged instances of Marlborough's meanness is
cited, in his having once played at whist with Dean
Jones, at which he left off the winner of sixpence. The
dean delayed to pay the stake, and the duke asked for it,
stating that he wanted the sixpence for a chair to go
home in. It seems to me that the meanness rested with
the rich dean in not paying, and not with the millionaire
duke in requiring to be paid.
ISTo man ever spoke more disparagingly of Marlborough
than his enemy. Lord Peterborough, though even lie did
justice to Marlborough's abilities; but Lord Peterborough
was especially severe on the duke's love of money. The
latter spent wisely, the former squandered profusely, and
374 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
cheated his heirs. The duke in the Bath-rooms, dunning
a dean for sixpence, is not so degrading a picture as
Peterborough, in tlie Bath market, cheapening commo-
dities, and walking about in his blue ribbon and star,
with a foAvl in his hand and a cabbage or a cauliflower
under either arm. Peterborough was lewd and sensual,
vain, passionate, and inconstant, a mocker of Christianity,
and a remorseless transgressor of the laws of God and
man. He was superior to Marlborough only in one
thing — in spelling. A poor boast. Compare the didvc,
leading a well-regulated life, and walking daily with his
God, to Peterborough, whose only approaches to rehgion
consisted in his once going to hear Penn preach, because
he ' liked to be civil to all religions,' and in his saying of
Fenelon that he was a delicious creature, but dangerous,
because acquaintance . with him was apt to make men
pious !
Marlborough's ftrvourite general, Cadogan, was one
of the ornaments of the court of George and Caroline
down to 172G. They had reason to regard him, for he
was a staunch Whig, although, as a diplomatist, he perilled
what he was commissioned to preserve. IRs morality
is evidenced in his remark made when some one enquired,
on the committal of Atterbury to the Tower for Jacobite
deahngs, what should be done with the bishop ? ' Done
with him ! ' roared Cadogan ; 'throw him to the lions ! ' At-
terbury, on hearing of this meek suggestion, burst out with
an explosion of alliterative fierceness, and denounced the
earl to Pope ' as a bold, bad, blundering, blustering,
bloody bully ! ' The episcopal sense of forgiveness was
on a par with the sentiment of mercy which inlluenced
the bosom of the soldier.
But Marlborough's social, severe, and domestic virtues
were not asked for in the connnanders of following years.
Thus Macartney, despite the blood upon his hand, stained
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 375
in tlie duel between the Duke of Hamilton and Lord
Mohuu, was made colonel of • the twenty-first regiment
six years previous to the Queen's death. General Webb,
who died two years previously, was thought nothing the
worse for his thrasouic propensity, and was for ever
boasting of his courage, and alluding to the four wounds
lie had received in the battle of Wynendael. ' My dear
general,' said the Duke of Argyle, on one of these occa-
sions, ' I wish you had received a fifth — in your tongue ;
for then everybody else would have talked of your deeds ! '
Still more unfavom-ably shines another of the generals
of this reign. Lord Cobham did not lack bravery, but
he owed most of his celebrity to Pope. He did not care
how wacked a man was, provided only he were a gentle-
man in his vices ; and he was guilty of an act which
Marlborough would have contemplated with horror —
namely, tried hard to make infidels of two promising
young gentlemen — Gilbert West, and George, subse-
quently Lord, Lyttelton.
Marlborough, too, was superior in morahty to Blake-
ney, that brave soldier and admirable dancer of Lish jigs ;
but who "svas so addicted to amiable excesses, of which
court and courtiers thought little at this liberal period,
that he drank punch till he was paralysed. And surely
it was better, like Marlborough, to play for sixpences,
than, like Wade, to build up and throw down fortunes,
night after night, at the gaming-table. But tliere was a
more celebrated general at the court of the second George
than the road-constructing Wade. John Dalrymple, Earl
of Stair, was one of those men in high station wdiose acts
tend to the weal or woe of inferior men wlio imitate
them. Stair was for ever gaily allowing his expenditure
to exceed his income. His sense of honour was not so
keen but that he would go in disguise among the Jacobites,
profess to be of them, and betray their confidence. And
^i'J^y LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF EXGLAXD.
yet even Lord Stair could act witli honest independence.
He voted against Walpole's Excise scheme, in 1733,
although he knew that such a vote would cost him all
iiis honours. He icas accordingly turned out from liis
post of lord high admiral for Scotland. Caroline was
angry at his vote, yet sorry for its consequences. ' Why,'
said she to him, ' why were you so silly as to thwart
Walpole's viev/s ? ' ' Because, madam,' was the reply,
' I wished you and your family better than to support
such a project.' Stair merits, too, a word of commenda-
tion for his protesting against the merciless conduct of
tlie government with respect to the captive Jacobites ;
and, hke Marlborough, he was of praiseworthy conduct
in private life, zealous for Presbyterianism, yet tolerant
of all other denominations, and, by his intense attachment
to a Protestant succession, one of the most valuable sup-
porters of the throne of George and Caroline. Both the
men were consistent ; but equal praise cannot be awarded
to another good soldier of the period. The Duke of
Argyle, when out of office, declared that a standing
army, in time of peace, was ever fatal either to prince
or nation ; subsequently, when in office, he as deliberately
maintained that a standing army never had in any country
the chief hand in ' destroying the liberties of the state.
This sort of disgraceful versatility marked his entire
political career ; and it is further said of him that he
* was meanly ambitious of emolument as a politician, and
contemptibly mercenary as a patron.' He had, however,
one rare and by no means unimportant virtue. ' The
strictest economy was enforced in his household, and his
tradesmen were punctually paid once a month.' This
virtue was quite enougli to piuTliase sneers for liim in
the cabinet of King George and tlie court of CJueen
Caroline.
In the last year of the reign of that King died General
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. Zll
Ilawley, wliose severity to his soldiers acquired for him
in the ranks the title of lord chief justice. An extract
from his will may serve to show that the ' lord chief
justice ' had httle in him of the Christian soldier. ' I
direct and order that, as there's now a peace, and I may
die the common way, m}^ carcase may be put anywhere,
'tis equal to me ; but I will have no more expense or
ridiculous show than if a poor soldier, who is as good a
man, were to be buried from the hospital. The priest, I
conclude, will have his fee — let the puppy take it. Pay
the carpenter for the carcase-box. I give to my sister
5,000/. As to my other relations, I have none who want,
and as I never was married, I have no heirs ; I have,
therefore, long since taken it into my head to adopt one
son and heir, after the manner of the Eomans ; who I
hereafter name, &c. . . I have written all this,' he adds,
' with my own hand, and this I do because I hate all
priests of all professions, and have the w'orst opinion of
all members of the bar.'
Having glanced at these social traits of men who were
among the foremost of those who were above the rank
of mere courtiers around the throne of the husband of
Caroline, let us quit the palace, and seek for other
samples of the people and the times in the prisons, the
private houses, and the public streets.
With regard to the prisons, it is easier to tell than to
conceive the horrors even of the debtors' prisons of those
days. Out of them, curiously enough, arose the colonisa-
tion of the state of Georgia. General Oglethorpe having
heard that a friend named Castle, an architect by profes-
sion, had died in consequence of the hardships inflicted
on him in the Meet Prison, instituted an enquiry, by which
discovery was made of some most iniquitous proceedings.
The unfortunate debtors, unable to pay their fees to the
gaolers, who had no salary and lived upon wkat they
37^ LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
Goulcl extort from tlie prisoners and their friends, were
subjected to torture, chains, and starvation. The autho-
rities of the prison were prosecuted, and penalties of fine
and imprisonment laid upon them. A better result was
a parliamentary grant, with a pubUc subscription and
private donations, wdiereby Oglethorpe was enabled to
found a colony of liberated insolvents in Georgia. Half
of the settlers were either insolvent simply because their
richer and extravagant debtors neglected to pay their
bills ; the other half w^ere the victims of their own
extravagance.
Bad roads and ill-lighted ways are said to be proofs
of indifferent civilisation when they are to be found in
the neighbourhood of great cities. If this be so, then
civilisation was not greatly advanced among us, in this
respect, a century and a quarter ago. Thus we read that
on the 21st of November 1730, 'the King and Queen,
coming from Kew Green to St. James's, were overturned
in then' coach, near Lord Peterborough's, at Parson's
Green, about six in the evening, the wind having blown
out the flambeaux, so that the coachman could not see
his way. But their Majesties received no hurt, nor the
two ladies who were in the coach with them.'
If here was want of civilisation, there was positive bar-
barity in other matters. For instance, here is a paragraph
from the news of the day, under date of the 10th of
June 1731. ' Joseph Crook, alias Sir Peter Stranger,
stood in the pillory at Charing Cross, for forging a deed ;
and after he had stood an hour, a chair was brought to
the pillory scaffold, in which he was placed, and the
hangman with a pruning-knife cut off both his ears, and
with a pair of scissors slit both his nostrils, all which he
bore with much patience ; but when his right nostril was
seared with a hot iron, tlie pain was so violent he could
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 379
not bear it ; whereupon his left nostril was not seared,
but he was carried bleeding to a neiglibouriug tavern,
where he was as merry at dinner Avitli his friends, after a
surgeon had dressed his wounds, as if iiothing of the
kind had happened. He was afterwards imprisoned for
life in tlie King's Bench, and the issues and profits of his
lands were confiscated for his life, according to his
sentence.'
It was the period when savage punishment was very
arbitrarily administered ; and shortly after Sir Peter was
mangled, without detriment to his gaiety, at Charing
Cross, the gallant Captain Petre had very nearly got
hanged at Constantinople. That gallant sailor and
notable courtier had entertained our ambassador, Lord
Kinneal, on board his ship, and honoured him, on leaving
the vessel at nine o'clock at night, with a salute of fifteen
guns. The Sultan liappened to have gone to bed, and
was aroused from his early slumbers by the report. He
was so enraged, that he ordered the captain to be seized,
bastinadoed, and hanged ; and so little were Ejng George
and Queen Caroline, and England to boot, thought of in
Turkey at that day, that it was with the greatest difficulty
that the British ambassador could prevail on the Sidtan
to pardon the offender. The court laughed at the inci-
dent. ""Cromwell would have avenged the affront.
But Ave must not fancy tliat we were much less savage
in idea or action at home. There was one John Waller,
in 1732, who stood in the pillory in Seven Dials, for
falsely sv/earing against persons whom he accused as
highway robbers. The culprit was dreadfully pelted
during the hour he stood exposed ; but at the end of that
time the mob tore him down and trampled him to death.
Whether this, too, was considered a laughable matter at
coint is not so certain. Even if so, the courtiers were
380 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
£0011 innclc serious by tlie universal sickness ■which pre-
vailed in London in the beginning of the 3'ear 1732.
Headache and fever were the common symptoms ; very
few escaped, and a vast number died. In the last week
of January, not less than fifteen hundred perished of the
epidemic within the bills of mortality. There had not
been so severe a visitation since the period of the plague.
But our wonder may cease that headache and fever pre-
vailed, when we recollect that gin was being sold, contrary
to law, in not less than eight thousand different places in
the metropolis, and that drunkenness was not the vice of
the lower orders only.
It has been tridy said of Queen Caroline that, with all
her opportunities, she never abused tlie power which she
lield over the King's mind, by employing it for the pro-
motion of her own friends and favourites. This, how-
ever, is but negative, or questionable praise. There is,
too, an anecdote extant, the tendency of which is to show
that she was somewhat given to the enjoyment of un-
controlledly exercising the power she had attained for
her personal purposes. She had prepared plans for
enclosing St. James's Park, shutting out the public, and
keeping it for the exclusive pleasure of herself and tlic
royal family. It was by mere chance, when she had
matured her plans, that she asked a nobleman connected
with the Board which then attended to what our Board
of Woods and Forests neglects, what the carrying out of
such a plan might cost. ' Madam,' said the witty and
right-seeing functionary, ' such a plan mi(j]it cost three
crowns.' Caroline was as ready of wit as he, and not
only understood the hint, but showed she could apply it,
]jy abandoning her intention.
And yet, she doubtless did so with regret, for gardens
and their arrangement were lier especial delight ; and she
CAROLINE VVILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 38 1
did succeed in taking a portion of Hyde Park from t1iG
public, and tlirowing the same into Kensington Gardens.
The Queen thought slie compensated for depriving the
pubhc of Kind by giving them more water. There was a
rivulet which ran through the park ; and this she con-
verted, by help from Ilampstead streams and land
drainage near at hand, into what is so magniloquently
styled the Serpentine river. It is not a river, nor is it
serpentine, except by a slight twist of the imagination.
This Queen was equally busy with her gardens at
Eichmond and at Kew. The King used to praise her for
effecting great wonders at little cost ; but she contrived
to squeeze contributions from the ministry, of which the
monarch knew nothing. She had a fondness, too, rather
than a taste, for garden architecture, and was given to
build grottoes and crowd them with statues. The droll
juxtaposition into which she brought the counterfeit pre-
sentments of defunct sages, warriors, and heroes caused
much amusement to the beholders generally.
There was one child of George and Caroline more
especially anxious than any other to afford her widowed
father consolation on the death of the Queen. That
child was the haughty Anne, Princess of Orange. She
had strong, but most unreasonable, hopes of succeeding
to the influence which had so long been enjoyed by her
royal mother ; and she came over in hot haste from
Holland, on the plea of benefiting her health, which was
then in a precarious state. The King, however, was
quite a match for his ambitious and presuming child, and
peremptorily rejected her proffered condolence. This
was done with such prompt decision, that the princess
was compelled to return to Holland immediately. The
King would not allow her, it is said, to pass a second
night in the metropolis. He probably remembered her
382 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
squabbles with liis father's ' favourite,' Miss Brett ; and
the disconsolate man was not desirous of having his
peace disturbed by the renewal of similar scenes witli his
own ' fiivourite,' Lady Yarmouth.
Of all the eulogies passed upon Caroline, few were so
profuse in their laudation as that contained in a sermon
preached before the council at Boston, in America, by the
Eev. Samuel Mather. There was not a virtue known
which the transatlantic chaplain did not attribute to her.
As woman, the minister pronounced her perfect ; as
queen, she was that and sublime to boot. As regent,
she possessed, for the time, i\\Q King's wisdom added to
her own. Good Mr. Mather, too, is warrant for the sound-
ness of her faith ; and he applied to her the words in
Judith : ' There was none that gave her an ill word, for
she feared God greatly.'
William III. is recorded as having said of his consort,
Mary, that if he could believe any mortal was born with-
out the contagion of sin, he would believe it of the
queen. Upon citing which passage, the Bostonian ex-
claims : ' And oh, gracious Caroline, thy respected con-
sort Vv^as ready to make the same observation of thee ; so
pure, so chaste, so religious wast thou, and so in all good
things exemplary, amidst the excesses of a magnificent
court, and in an age of luxury and wantonness ! ' And he
thus proceeds : ' The pious Queen was constant at her
secret devotions ; and she loved the habitation of God's
house ; and from regard to the divine institutions, with
delight and steadiness attended on them. And as she
esteemed and practised every duty of piety towards the
Almighty, so she detested and frowned on ever}^ person
and thing that made but an appearance of what was
wicked and impious. As she performed every duty
incumbent on her towards her beloved subjects, so she
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 383
deeply reverenced tlie King ; and while his Majesty-
honours her and will grieve for her to his last moments,
her royal offspring rise up and call her blessed.'
' Seven are the children,' said the preacher, ' which
she has left behind her. These, like the noble Eoman
Cornelia, she took to be her chief ornaments. Accord-
ingly, it was both her care and her pleasure to improve
theu' minds and form their manners, that so they might
hereafter prove blessings to the nation and the world.
Wliat a lovely, heavenly sight must it have been to be-
hold the majestic royal matron, with her faithful and
obsequious oflspring around her ! So the planetary orbs
about the sun gravitate towards it, keep their proper
distance from it, and receive from it the measures of
light and influence respectively belonging to them. Such
was — oh, fatal grief! — such was the late most excellent
Queen.'
The issue of the marriage of Carohne and George II.
comprised four sons and live daughters — namely, Frede-
rick Louis, Prince of Wales, born January 20, 1706 ;
Anne, Princess of Orange, born October 22, 1709 ; Amelia
Sophia, born June 10, 1711; Caroline Elizabeth, born
May 31, 1713 ; William Augustus, Duke of Cumberland,
born April 15, 1721 ; the Princess Mary, born February
22, 1723; the Princess Louisa, born December 7, 1724.
All these survived the Queen. There was also a prince
born in November 1716, who did not survive his birth ;
and George William, Duke of Gloucester, born November
2, 1717, who died in February of the year following.
At the funeral of Carohne, which was called ' decently
private,' but which was, in truth, marked by much splen-
dour and ceremony, not the King, but the Princess
Amelia, acted as chief mourner ; and the antliem,
* The Ways of Zion do mourn,' was ' set to Musick by
384 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
Mr. Handell.' Of all the verses poured out on the occa-
sion of her deatli, two specimens are subjoined. They
show how the Queen was respectively dealt with by the
Democritus and Heraclitus of her subjects : —
Here lies, lamented by the poor and great —
(Prop of the Church, and glory of the St.ate) —
A woman, late a mighty monarch's queeu,
Above all flatter}', and above all spleen ;
Ijovod by the good, and haled by the evil,
Pursued, now dead, by satire and the devil.
With steadfast zeal (which kindled in her youth)
A foe to bigotry, a friend to truth ;
Too generous for the lust of lawless rule,
Nor Persecution's nor Oppression's tool :
In Locke's, in Clarke's, in Iloadley's paths she trod,
Nor fear'd to follow where they foUow'd God.
To all obliging and to all sincere.
Wise to choose friendships, firm to persevere.
Free without rudeness; great without disdain;
An hypocrite in nought but hidiny pain.
To courts she taught the rules of just expence,
Joln'd with economy, magnificence ;
Attention to a kingdom's vast afl'airs,
Attention to the meanest mortal's cares ;
Profusion might consume, or avarice hoard,
'Twas hers to feed, unknown, the scanty board.
Thus, of each human excellence possess'd,
With as few faults as e'er attend the best ;
Dear to her lord, to all her children dear,
And (to the last her thought, her conscience clear)
Forgiving all, forgiven and approved,
To peaceful worlds her peaceful soul removed.
The above panegyric was drawn up as a reply to an
epitaph of another character, which was then in circula-
tion, from the pen of a writer who contemplated his sub-
ject in anotlier point of view. It was to this effect : —
Here lies unpitied, botli by Churcli and State,
The subject of their flattery and hate;
Flatter'd by those on wiiom lier favours flow'd.
Hated for favours impiously bestow'd ;
Who aini'd tlie Cluirch by Churchmen to betray,
And hoped to share in arbitrary sway.
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 385
In Tindal's find in Iloadley's paths she trod,
An hypocrite in all but diabelief in God.
Promoted luxury, encoura^^ed vice,
Ilei'selt" a sordid slave to avarice.
True friendship's tender love ne'er touch'd her heart,
Falsehood appear'd in vice disguised by art.
Fawning and haughty ; when taniiliar, rude ;
And never civil seeni'd but to delude.
Inquisitive in trilling, mean all'airs.
Heedless of public good or orphan's tears ;
To her owii offspring mercy she denied,
And, unforgiving, unforgiven died.
VOL. I. C C
386 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
CHAPTER X.
THE EEIGN OF THE WIDOWER.
Success of Admiial N^eraon — Pioyal visit to ' Baillemy Fair ' — Pai'ty-sjiiiil
runs liigli about tlie King and Prince — Lady Ponifret — The mad Duclicss
of Buckingham — Anecdote of Lady Sundon — Witty remark of Lady
Mary Wortley — Fracas at Kensington Palace — The battle of Dettiugeu —
A precocious child — Marriage of Princess Mary^A new opposition —
Prince George — Lady Yarmouth installed at Kensington — Death of
Prince Frederick — Conduct of the King on hearing of this event — Bubb
Dodington's extravagant grief — The funeral scant — Conduct of the
widowed Princess — Opposition of the Prince to the King not undig-
nified — Jacobite epitaph on the Prince — The Prince's rebuke for frivolous
jeer on Lady Huntingdon — The Prince's patronage of literary men —
Lady Archibald Hamilton, the Prince's favourite — The I'rince and tlio
Quakers — Anecdote of Prince George — Princely appreciation of Lady
Huntingdon.
The era of peace ended with Caroline. Walpole en-
deavoured to prolong the era, but Spanish aggressions
against the English flag in South America drove the
ministry into a war. The success of Vernon at Porto
Bello rendered the war highly popular. The public en-
thusiasm was sustained by Anson, but it was materially
lowered by our defeat at Carthagena, which prej)ared the
way for the downfall of the minister of Caroline. Nume-
rous and powerful were the opponents of Walpole, and
no section of them exhibited more fierceness or better
organisation than that of which the elder son of Caroline
was the founder and great captain.
Frederick, however, was versatile enough to be able
to devote as much time to pleasure as to pohtics.
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 387
As the roue Duke of Orleans, when regent, and indeed
before he exercised that responsible oirice, was given to
stroll with his witty but graceless followers, and a band
of graceful but witless ladies, through the fairs of St.
Laurent and St. Germain, tarrying there till midnight to see
and hear the drolleries of ' Punch' and the plays of the
puppets, so the princes of the royal blood of England
condescended, with much alacrity, to perambulate Bar-
tholomew Fair, and to enjoy the delicate amusements
then and there provided. An anonymous writer, some
thirty years ago, inserted in the ' New European Maga-
zine,' from an older publication, an account of a royal
visit, in 1740, to the ancient revels of St. Bartholomew.
In this amusing record we are told, that ' the multitude
behind was impelled violently forwards, and a broad blaze
of red light, issuing from a score of flambeaux, streamed
into the air. Several voices were loudly shouting, ' Room
there for Prince Frederick ! make way for the Prince ! '
and there was that long sweep heard to pass over the
ground which indicates the approach of a grand and cere -
monious train. Presently the pressure became much
greater, the voices louder, the light stronger, and, as the
train came onward, it might be seen that it consisted,
firstly of a party of yeomen of the guards clearing the
way ; then several more of them bearing flambeaux, and
flanking the procession ; while in the midst of all appeared
a tall, fair, and handsome young man, having something
of a plump foreign visage, seemingly about four-and-thirty
years of age, dressed in a ruby-coloured frock-coat, very
richly guarded with gold lace, and having his long flow-
ing hair curiously curled over his forehead and at the
sides, and finished with a very large bag and courtly
queue beliind. The air of dignity Avith which he walked ;
the blue ribbon and star- and-garter with which he was de-
corated ; the small, three-cornered, silk court-hat which he
c 2
o
88 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
wore wliilo all around him were uncovered ; the numerous
suite, as well of Q;entlenien as of o-uards, which marshalled
him along ; the obsequious attention of a short stout
person who, hy his flourishing manner, seemed to he a
])layer : all these particulars indicated that the amiable
Frederick, Prince of Wales, was visiting Bartholomew Fair
by torchlight, and that Manager Eich was introducing his
royal guest to all tlie amusements of the place. However
strange,' adds the author, ' this circumstance may appear
to the present generation, yet it is nevertheless strictly
true ; for about 1740, when the revels of Smithfield were
extendedto three weeks and a month, it was not con-
sidered derogatory to persons of the first rank and fashion
to partake in the broad humour and theatrical entertain-
ments of the place.'
In the following year the divisions between the King
and the prince made party-spirit run high, and he who
followed the sire very unceremoniously denounced the
son. To such a one there was a court at St. James's, but
none at Carlton House. Walpole tells a story which
illustrates at once this feeling and the sort of wit ])ossessed
by the courtiers of the day. ' Somebody who belonged
to the Prince of ¥/ales said he was ffoinfy to court. It
was objected, that he ought to say "going to Carlton
House ;" that tlie only court is where the King resides.
Lady Pomfret, with her paltry air of learning and ab-
surdity, said, " Oh, Lord ! is there no court in England but
the King's? sure, there are many more! There is the
Court of Chancery, the Court of Exchequer, tlie Court of
King's Bench, &c.'" Don't 3'ou love her? Lord Lincoln
does her daughter.' Lord Lincoln, the nephew of the
Duke of Newcastle, the minister, was a frequenter of St.
James's, and, snys Horace, ' not only his uncle-duke, but
even Majesty is fallen in love with him. He talked
to tlu! King at liis levee without being spoken to. 'J'hat
CAROLINE IVILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 389
was alwa3's thought high treason, but I don't know liow
the grufi' gentleman hked it.' The gruff gentleman was
the King, and the phrase paints him at a stroke, like one
of Cruikshank's lines, by whicli not only is a figure drawn,
but expression given to it.
The prince's party, combined with other opponent-',
effected the overthrow of Caroline's favourite minister,
Walpole, in 1742. The succeeding cabinet, at the head
of which was Lord Vfilmington, did not very materially
differ in principles and measures from that of their pre-
decessors. In the same year died Caroline's other
favourite. Lady Sundon, mistress of the robes.
' Lord Sundon is in great grief,' says Walpole. ' I am
surprised, for she has had fits of madness ever since her
ambition met such a check by the death of the Queen.
She had great power with her, though the Queen affected
to despise her ; but had unluckily told her, or fallen into
her power by, some secret. I was saying to Lady Pom-
fret, " To be sure she is dead very rich." She replied
with some warmth, " She never took money." When I
came home I mentioned this to Sir Eobert. " No," said
he, " but she took jewels. Lord Pomfret's place of master
of the horse to the Queen was bought of her for a pair
of diamond ear-rings, of fourteen hundred pounds value."
One day that she wore tliem at a visit at old Marlbro's,
as soon as she was gone, the duchess said to Lady Mary
Wortley, " How can that woman have the impudence to
go about in that bribe ? " " Madam," said Lady Mary,
" how would you have people know where wine is to be
sold unless there is a sign hung out ? " Sir Piobert told
me that in the enthusiasm of h.er vanity, Lady Sundon
had proposed to him to miite with her and govern the
kingdom together : he bowed, begged her patronage, but,
he said, he thought nobody fit to govern the kingdom but
the Kimv and Queen.' That King, unsustained by liis
390 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
consort, appears to have become anxious to be reconciled
with his son the Prince of Wales, at this time, when re-
ports of a Stuart rebellion began to be rife, and when tlie-
atrical audiences applied passages in plays, in a favoural3le
sense to the prince. The reconciliation was effected; but
it was clumsily contrived, and was coldly and awkwardly
concluded. An agent from the King induced the prince
to open the way by writing to his father. This was a
step which the prince was reluctant to take, and which
he only took at last with the worst possible grace. The
letter reached the King late at night, and on reading it
he appointed the following day for the reception of
Frederick, who, with five gentlemen of his court, repaired
to St. James's, where he was received by ' the gruff gen-
tleman ' in the drawing-room. The yielding sire simply
asked him, ' How does the princess do? I hope she is
well.' The dutiful son answered the query, kissed the
paternal hand, and respectfully, as far as outward demon-
stration could evidence it, took his leave. He did not
depart, however, until he had distinguished those courtiers
present whom he held to be his friends by speaking to
them ; the rest he passed coldly by. As the reconcilia-
tion was accounted of as an accomplislied fact, and as the
King had condescended to speak a ^vord or two to some of
the most intimate friends of his son ; and finally, as the en-
tire royal famity went together to the Duchess of Norfolk's,
Avhere ' the streets were illuminated and boniircd ;' there
Avas a great passing to and fro of courtiers of eitlier fac-
tion' between St. James's and Carlton House. Seeker,
who went to the latter residence with Benson, Bishoj) of
Gloucester, to pay his respects, says that the prince and
princess were civil to both of them.
Tlie reconcihation was worth an additional fifty tliou-
sand pounds a-year to llic prince, so tliat ol)ediencc to a
fiither could liardly bL' more nuuiilicently rewarded.
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA^ 391
' He will have money now,' says Walpole, ' to tune up
Glover, and Thomson, and Dodsley again : —
Et spes et ratio studiorum in Ciesare tantum.'
There was much outward show of gladness at this
court, pageants and 'reviews to gladden the heart of
David and triumphs of Absalom,' as Walpole styles his
Majesty and the heir-apparent, Tlie latter, with the
princess, went ' in great parade tln'ough the city and the
dust to dine at Greemvich. They took water at the
Tower, and trumpeting away to Grace Tosier's —
Like Cimoii, triumphed over land and wave.'
In another direction, there were some lively proceed-
ings, which would have amused Caroline herself. Tran-
quil and dull as Kensington Palace looks, its apartments
were occasionally the scene of more rude than royal
fracas. Thus we are told of one of the daughters of the
t.' o
King pulling a chair from under the Countess Deloraine,
just as that not too exemplar)^ lady was about to sit down
to cards. His Majesty laughed at the lady's tumble, at
which she was so doubly pained, that, watching for re-
venge and opportunity, she contrived to give the Sovereign
just such another fall. The sacred person of the King-
was considerably bruised, and the trick procured nothing
moi'e for the countess than exclusion from coiurt, where
her place of favonr was exclusively occupied by Madame
Walmoden, Countess of Yarmouth.
We often hear of the ^vits of one era being the butts of
the next, and without mt enough left to escape the shafts
let fly at them. Walpole thus describes a drawing-room
held at St. James's, to which some courtiers resorted in
the dresses they had worn under Queen Anne. ' There
were so many new faces,' says Horace, ' that I scarce
knew wdiere I was ; I should have taken it for Carlton
House, or my Lady Mayoress's visiting day, only the
392. LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
peo])le did not seem cnoiifrli at liomc, but ratlier as
admitted to see the King dine in public. It is quite
ridiculous to see the number of old ladies, who, from
having been wives of patriots, have not been dressed these
twenty years ; out they come with all the accoutrements
that were in use in Queen Anne's days. Then the jo}- and
awkward jollity of them is inexpressible ; they titter, and,
Avherever you meet them, are always going to court,
and lookino; at their watches an hour before the time. I
met several at the birtli-day, and they were dressed in all
the colours of the rainbow ; they seem to have said to
themselves twenty years ago : " Well ; if I ever do go
to court again, I will have a pink and silver, or a blue
and silver," and they kept their resolutions.'
The English people had now been long looking towards
that great battle-field of Europe, Flanders, mingling
memories of past triumphs with hopes of future victories.
George 11. went heartily into the cause of Maria Theresa,
when the French sought to deprive her of her imperial
inheritance. In the campaign which ensued was fought
that battle of Dettingen which Lord Stair so nearly lost,
where George behaved so bravely, mounted or a-foot,
and where the Scots Greys enacted their bloody and
triumphant duel with the gens-d'arme of France.
Meanwhile, Frederick w^as unemployed. When the
King and the Duke of Cumberland proceeded to the army
in Flanders, a regency was formed, of which Walpole
says, ' I think the prince miglit have been of it Avhen Lord
Gower is. I don't tliink the latter more Jacobite than his
royal highness.'
When the King and the duke retmiied from their
triumphs on the Continent, the former younger for his
achievements, the latter older by the gout and an accom-
panying limp, London gave them a reception worthy
of the most renowned of heroes. In proportion as the
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 393
King saw liimself popular with the citizens did lie cool
towards the Prince of Wales. The latter, with his two
sisters, stood on the stairs of St. James's Palace to receive
the chief hero ; but though the princess was only confined
the day before, and Prince George lay ill of the small-
pox, the King passed by his son without offering him a
word or otherwise noticincf him. This rendered the Kinff
impopular, without turning the popular affection towards
the elder son of Caroline. Nor was that son deserving of
such affection. His heart had few sympathies for England,
nor was he elated by her victories or made sad by her
defeats. On the contrary, in 1745, when the news arrived
in England of the ' tristis gloria,' the illustrious disaster at
Fontenoy, which m.ade so many hearts in England deso-
late, Frederick went to the theatre in the evening, and
two days after, he wrote a French ballad, ' Bacchic, Ana-
creontic, and Erotic,' addressed to those ladies with v.'hom
he was going to act in Congreve's masque, ' The Judgment
of Paris.' It was full of praise of late and deep drinking,
of intercourse with the fair, of stoical contempt for mis-
fortune, of expressed indifference whether Europe had one
or many tyrants, and of a pococurantism for all things
and forms except his clieve Sylvie^ by whom he was
good-naturedly supposed to mean his wife. But this
solitary civility cannot induce us to chai'ige our self-
gratulation at the fact that a man with such a heart was
not permitted to ascend the throne of Great Britain. In
the 5^ear after he wrote the ballad alluded to, he created a
new opposition against the crown, by the courisels of Lord
Bath, ' who got him from Lord Grnnville : the latter and his
faction acted with the court.' Of the princess, Walpole
says, ' I firmly believe, by all her quiet sense, she will turn
out a Caroline.'
In this year, 17-^3, died that favourite of George I.
who more than any other woman had enjoyed in his
394 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
liouseliold aud heart the place which should have belonged
to his wife Sophia Dorothea. Mademoiselle von der
Schulenburg, of the days of the Electorate, died Duchess
of Kendal by favour of the King of England, and Princess
of Eberstein b}^ favour of the Emperor of Germany. She
died at the age of eighty-five, innnensely rich. Her wealth
was inherited by her so-called ' niece,' Lady Walsingham,
Avho married Lord Chesterfield. ' But I believe,' says
Walpole, ' that he will get nothing by the duchess's
death — but his wife. She lived in the house with the
duchess, w^here he had played away all his credit.'
George loved to hear his Dettingen glories eulogised
in annual odes sung before him. But, brave as he was,
he had not much cause for boastiuGj. The Dettino;eu
laurels were changed into cypress at Fontenoy by the
Duke of Cumberland in 1744, whose suppression of the
Scottish rebellion in 1745 gained for him more credit than
he deserved. The treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle, by Avhich our
Continental war was concluded in 1748, gave peace to
England, but little or no glory.
The intervening years were years of interest to some
of the children of Caroline. Thus, in June 174G, the
I'rince of Hesse came over to England to marry the second
daughter of Caroline, the Princess Mary. He was royally
entertained ; but on one occasion met with an accident
whicli Walpole calls ' a most ridiculous tumble t'other
night at tlie opera. They had not pegged up his box
tight after the ridotto, aud down he came on all fours.
George Selwyn says he carried it off with an unembarrassed
countenance.'
In a year Mary was glad to escape from the brutality
of her husband and repair to England, under pretext of
being obliged to drink the Bath waters. Slie was an espe-
cial favourite with her brotlier, the Duke oi Cumberland,
and with the Princess Caroline.
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 395
The result of this marriage gave httle trouble to the
KiDg. He was much more annoyed when the Prinee of
Wales formally declared a new opposition (in 1747),
which was never to subside till he was on the throne.
' He began it pretty handsomely, the other day.' says
Walpole, ' with 143 to 184, which has frightened the
ministry hke a bomb. This new party wants nothing
but heads ; though not having any,' says Horace, wittily,
' to be sure the struggle is fairer.' It was led by Lord
Ealtimore, a man with ' a good deal of jumbled know-
ledge.' The spirit of the father certainly dwelt in some
of his children. The King, we are told, sent Steinberg,
on one occasion, to examine the prince's children in their
learning. The boy, Prince Edward, acquitted himself
well in his Latin grammar, but Steinberg told him that it
would please his Majesty and profit the prince, if the
latter would attend more to attain proficiency in the German
language. ' German, German ! ' said the boy ; ' any dull
child can learn that ! ' The prince, as he said it, ' squinted'
at the baron, and the baron was doubtless but little
fiattered by the remark or the look of the boy. The
King was probably as surprised and as little pleased to
hear the remark as he was a few months later to discover
that the Prince of Wales and the Jacobite party had
united in a combined parliamentary opposition against
the government. However, Prince Edward's remark and
the Prince of Wales's opposition did not prevent tlie King
from conferring the Order of the Garter on the little
Prince George in 1749. The youthful knight, afterwards
King of England, was carried in his father's arms to the
door of the King's closet. There the Duke of Dorset
received him, and carried him to the King. The boy
then commenced a speech, which had been taught him by
his tutor, Ayscough, Dean of Bristol. His fiither no
sooner heard the oration commenced, than he interrupted
39^ LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
its progress by a vehement ' No, no ! ' The boy, cnil^ar-
rassedi stopped short ; then, after a moment of hesitation,
recommeneed his comphmentary liarangue ; but, with the
opening -words, again came the prohibitory 'No, no I ' from
tlie i)rince, and thus was the eloquence of the 3'oung
chevaher rudely silenced.
But it was not only the peace of the King, his very
palaces were put in peril at this time. The installation of
Lady Yarmouth at Kensington, after the /rrtca* occasioned
by Lady Deloraine, had nearly resulted in the destruction
of the palace. Lady Yarmouth resided in tlie room which
had been occupied by Lad}^ Suffolk, who disregarded
damp, and cared nothing for the crop of fungi raised by it
in her room. Not so Lady Yarmouth, at least after she
had contracted an ague. She then kept up such a fire
that the woodwork caught, and destruction to the edifice
was near upon following. There were vacant chambers
enough, and sufficiently comfortable ; but the King would
not allow them to be inhabited, even by his favourite.
' The King hoards all he can,' writes Walpole, ' and lias
locked up half the j^alace since the Queen's death ; so he
does at St. James's ; and I believe would put the rooms
out at interest if he could get a closet a-year for them.'
The division which had again sprung up between sire
and son daily widened until death relieved the former of his
})ermanent source of vexation. This event took place in
1 75 L Some few years previous to that period, tlie Prince
of Wales, when playing at tennis or cricket, at Cliefden,
received a blow from a ball, which gave him some pain,
but of which he thought little. It was neglected ; and one
result of such neglect was a perman.ent weakness of the
lungs. Li the early part of this year he had suffered from
pleurisy, but had recovered — at least, partially recovered.
A preN'ious fall from h.is horse had rendered him more
than usually delicate. Early in March he had been in
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 397
attendance at tlie House of Lords on occasion of the King,
his flither, giving liis royal sanction to some bills. This
done, the prince returned, mucli lieated, in a chair with
the windows down, to Carlton House. He changed his
dress, put on light, unaired clothing, and, as if ihat had not
been perilous enough, he had the madness, after hurrying
to Kew and walking about the gardens there in very
inclement weather, to lie down for three hours after his
return to Carlton House, upon a couch in a very cold
room which opened upon the gardens. Lord Egmont
alluded to tlie danger of such a course ; the prince laughed
at the thought. He was as obstinate as his fixther, to
whom Sir Eobert Walpole once observed, on linditig him
equally intractable during a fit of illness, ' Sir, do you
know what your father died of? Of thinking lie could
not die.' The prince removed to Leicester House. He
ridiculed good counsel, and before the next morning his life
was in danger. He rallied, and during one of his hours of
least suffering he sent for his eldest son, and, embracing
him with tenderness, remarked, ' Come, George, let us be
good friends while we are permitted to be so,' Three
physicians, with Wilmot and Hawkins, the surgeons, were
in constant attendance upon him, and, curiously enougli,
their united wisdom pronounced that the prince was out
of danger only the day before he died. Then came a
relapse, an eruption of the skin, a marked difficulty of
breathing;, and an increase of cough. Still he was not
considered in danger. Some members of his family were
at cards in the adjacent room, and Desnoyers, the cele-
brated dancing-master, who, like St. Leon, was as good a
violinist as lie was a dancer, v/as playing the violin at the
prince's bedside, when the latter was seized with a violent
fit of coughing. When this had ceased, Wilmot expressed
a hope that his royal patient would be better, and would
pass a quiet night. Hawkins detected symptoms which
398 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
he Ihouglit of great gravity. Tlie coiigli returned witli
increased violence, and Frederick, placing his hand upon
his stomach, murmured feebly, ' Je sens la mort! ('I
feel death ! '). Desnoyers held liim up, and feeling him
shiver, exclaimed, ' The prince is going ! ' At that moment
the Princess of Wales was at the foot of the bed : she
caught up a candle, rushed to the head of the bed, and,
bending down over her husband's foce, she saw that he
was dead.
So ended the wayward life of the elder son of Caroline ;
so terminated the married life of him, which began so gaily
when he was gliding about the crowd in his nuptial cham-
ber, in a gown and night-cap of silver tissue. The bursting
of an imposthume between the pericardium and dia-
phragm, the matter of which fell upon the lungs, suddenly
killed him whom the heralds called 'high and mighty
prince,' and the heir to a throne lay dead in the arms of a
French fiddler. Les extremes se toudient ! — though Des-
noyers, be it said, was quite as honest a man as his master.
Intelligence of the death of his son was immediately
conveyed to George II., by Lord North. The Kinc^ was
at Kensmgton, and when the messenger stood at his
side and communicated in a whisper the doleful news,
his Majesty w^as looking over a card-table at which the
players were the Princess Amelia, the Duchess of Dorset,
the Duke of Grafton, and the Countess of Yarmouth. He
turned to the messenger, and merely remarked in a low
voice, ' Dead, is he ? AVliy, they told me he was better ; '
and then going round to his mistress, the Countess of Yar-
mouth, he very calmly observed to her, ' Countess, Fred
is gone ! ' And that M^as all the sorrow expressed by a
father at the loss of a first-born boy, who had outlived his
father's love. The King, liowever, sent kind messages to
the widow, who exhibited on the occasion much courage
and sense.
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 399
As tlie prince died witlioiit priestly aid, so v/as his
funeral unattended by a single bishop to do him honour or
pay him respect. With the exception of Frederick's own
household and the lords appointed to hold the pall, ' there
was not present one English lord, not one bishop, and only
one Irish peer (Limerick), two sons of dukes, one baron's
son, and two privy councillors.' It was not that want of
respect was intentional, but that no due notice was issued
from any office as to the arrangement of the funeral. The
body was carried from the House of Lords to Westminster
Abbey, but without a canopy, and the funeral service was
performed, undignified by either anthem or organ.
But the prince's friend, Bubb Dodington, poured out
a sufficient quantity of expressed grief to serve the entire
nation, and make up for all lack of ceremony or of sorrow
elsewhere. In a letter to Mann, he swore that the prince
was the delight, ornament, and expectation of the world.
In losing him the wretched had lost their refuge, balm,
and shelter. Art, science, and grace had to deplore the
loss of a patron, and in that loss a remedy for the ills of
society had perished also ! ' Bubb de Tristibus ' goes on
to say, that he had lost more than any other man by the
death of the prince, seeing that his highness had conde-
scended to stoop to him, and be his own fomiliar friend.
Bubb protested that if he ever allowed the wounds of his
grief to heal he sliould be for ever infamous, and finally
running a-muck with his figures of speech, he declares —
' I should be unworthy of all consolation if I was not incon-
solable.' This is the spirit of a partisan ; but, on the other
side, the spirit of party was nevpr exhibited in a more
malignantly petty aspect than on the occasion of the death
of the prince. The gentlemen of his bedchamber were
ordered to be in attendance near the body, from ten in the
morning till the conclusion of the funeral. The govern-
ment, however, would order them no refreshment, and the
40^ LIVES OF THE QUEEKS OF ENGLAND.
Board of Green Cloth would provide them with none, with-
out such order. Even though princes die, ilfaitt que tout
le inonde v'lve ; and accordingly theso poor gentlemen sent
to a neighbouring tavern and gave orders for a cold dinner
to be furnished them. The authorities were too tardily
ashamed of thus insuUino; faithful servants of rank and
distinction, and commanded the necessary refreshments to
be provided. They were accepted, but the tavern dinner
was paid for and given to the poor.
The widowed Auc^usta, who had throughout her mar-
ried life exhibited much mental superiority, v/ith great
kindness of disposition, and that under circumstances of
great difficulty, and sometimes of a character to inflict
vexation on the calmest nature, remained in the room by
the side of, the corpse of her husband for full four hours,
unwilling to believe in the assurances given her that he was
really dead. She was then the mother of eight children,
expecting to be shortly the mother of a ninth, and she was
brought reluctantly to acknowledge that their father was
no more. It was six in the morning before her attendants
could persuade her to retire to bed ; but she rose again at
eight, and then, with less thought for her grief than anxiety
for tlie honour of him whose death was the cause of it, she
proceeded to the prince's room and burned the whole t)f
his private papers. By this action the world lost some
rare supplementary chapters to a Ckrojiique Scamialcuse.
The death of Frederick disconcerted all the measures
of intriguing men, and bi-ought about a great change in
tlie councils of the court as of the factions opposed to the
court. ' The death of our prince,' wrote Whitfield, ' has
adlicted you. It has given me a shock ; but the Lord
reigneth, and that is my comfort.' The Duchess of [Somer-
set, writing to Dr. Doddridge, says on the same subject :
' Providence seems to have directed the blow where we
thought ourselves the most secure ; for among the many
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 4OI
schemes of hopes and fears which people were laying clown
to themselves, this was never mentioned as a supposable
event. The harmony which appears to subsist between
his Majesty and the Princess of Wales is the best support
for the spuits of the nation under their present concern
and astonisliment. He died in the forty-fifth year of his
age, and is generally allowed to have been a prince of
amiable and generous disposition, of elegant manners, and
of considerable talents.'
The opposition which the prince had maintained
against the government of the father who had provoked
him to it was not undignified. Unlike his sire, he did not
' hate both bainting and boetry ; ' and painters and poets
Avere welcome at his court, as were philosophers and states-
men. It was only required that they should be adverse
to Walpole. Among them were the able and urbane wits,
Chesterfield and Carteret, Pulteney and ^k William Wynd-
ham ; the aspiring young men, Pitt, Lyttelton, and the
Grenvilles : Swift, Pope, and Thomson lent their names
and pens to the prince's service ; while astute and fiery
Bohngbroke aimed to govern in the circle where he affected
to serve.
All the reflections made upon the death of the prince
were not so simple of quality as those of the Duchess of
Somerset. Horace Walpole cites a preacher at Mayfair
Chapel, who ' improved ' the occasion after this not very
satisfactory or conclusive fashion : ' He had no great parts,
but he had great virtues — indeed, they degenerated into
vices. He was very generous ; but I hear his generosity
has ruined a great many people ; and then, his condescen-
sion was such that he kept very bad company.' Not less
known, and yet claiming a place here, is the smart Jacobite
epitaph, so little flattering to the dead, that had all Spartan
epitaphs been as little laudatory, the Ephori would have
VOL. I. D D
402 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
never issued a decree entii'cly prohibiting them. It was
to this effect :
Hero lies Fred,
Who was alive cand is dead !
Had it been bis father,
I bad niiicla rather.
Had it been bis brother,
Still better than another.
Had it been bis sister,
No one could have missed her.
Had it been the whole generation,
Still better for the nation :
But since 'tis only Fred,
Who was alive and is dead,
There is no more to be said.
I have not mentioned among those who were the fre-
quenters of his court the name of Lady Huntingdon. Frede-
rick had the good sense to appreciate Lady Huntingdon, and
he did not despise her because of a httle misdirected enthusi-
asm. On missing her from his circle, he enquired of the gay,
but subsequently the godly, Lady Charlotte Edwin, where
Lady Huntingdon could be, that he no longer saw her at his
court. ' Oh, I dare say,' exclaimed the unconcerned Lady
Charlotte — ' I dare say she is praying with her beggars ! '
Frederick had the good sense and the courage to turn
sharply round upon her, and say : ' Lady Cliarlotte, when
I am dying I think I sliall be happy to seize the skirt of
Lady Huntingdon's mantle to lift me up to Heaven.' This
phrase was not forgotten when the adapter of Cibber's
' Nonjuror ' turned that play into the ' Hypocrite,' and,
introducing tlie fanatic Maww^orm, put into liis moutli a
sentiment uttered for the sake of the laugh which it never
failed to raise, but which originated, in sober sadness, with
Frederick, Prince of Wales.
The character of Caroline's son was i\ill of con-
tradictions. He had low tastes, Ijut iie also possessed
those of a gentleman and a prince. When the ' Eambler '
first appea''e(l, he so enjoyed its stately wisdom that he
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 403
sought after the author, in order to serve Iiim if he needed
service. His method of ' servino; ' an author was not mere
hp comphment. Pope, indeed, might be satisfied with
receiving from him a comphmentary visit at Twickenham.
The poet there was on equal terms witli the prince ; and
when the latter asked how it was tliat the author who
hiu-led his shafts against kings could be so friendly towards
the son of a king, Pope somewhat pertly answered, that
he who dreaded the hon might safely enough fondle the
cub. But Frederick coidd really be princely to authors ;
and what is even more, he could do a good action grace-
fully, an immense point where there is a good action to be
done. Thus to Tindal he sent a gold medal worth forty
guineas ; and to dry and dusty Glover, for whose 'Leonidas '
he had much respect, he sent a note for 500/. when the
poet was in difficulties. This handsome gift, too, was sent
unasked. The son of song was honoured and not humili-
ated by the gift. It does not matter whether Lyttelton,
or any one else, taught him to be tlie patron of literature
and literary men ; it is to his credit that he recognised
them, acknowledged their services, and sa^v them with
pleasure at his little court, often giving them precedence
over those whose greatness was the mere result of the
accident of birth.
The prince not only protected poets but he wooed the
Muses. Those shy ladies, however, loved him none the
better for being a benefactor to their acknowledged chil-
dren. The rhymes of Frederick were generally devoted to
the ecstatic praises of his wife. The matter was good, but
the manner was execrable. The lady deserved all that
was said, but her virtues merited a more gracefully skilful
eulogist. The reasoning was perfect, but the rhymes
halted abominably. But how could it be otherwise?
Apollo himself would not stoop to inspire a writer who,
while piling up poetical compliments above the head of his
D D 2
404 LIVES OF THE QUEEXS OF ENGLAND.
blameless wife, was paying adoration, at all events not less
sincere, to most worthless ladies of the coml? The
apparently exemplary father within the circle of home,
where presided a beautiful mother over a bright young
family, was a wretched libertine outside of that circle. His
sin was great, and his taste of the vilest. His ' favourites'
had nothing of youth, beauty, or intellect to distinguish
them, or to serve for the poor apology of infidelity. Lady
Archibald Hamilton was plain and in years when she
enjoyed her bad pre-eminence. Miss Vane was impudent,
and a maid of honour by office ; nothing else : while
Lady Middlesex was ' short and dark, like a cold winter's
day,' and as yellow as a November morning. Notwith-
standing this, he played the father and husband well. He
loved to have his children with him, always appeared most
happy when in the bosom of his family, left them with
regret, and met them again with smiles, kisses, and tears.
He walked the streets unattended, to the great dehght of
the people ; was the presiding Apollo at great festivals,
conferred the prizes at rowings and racings, and talked
familiarly with Thames fishermen on the mj^steries of
their craft. He would enter the cottages of the poor,
listen with patience to their tmce-told tales, and partake
with relish of the humble fare presented to him. So did
the old soldier find in him a ready listener to the story of
his campaigns and the subject of his petitions ; and never
did the illustriously maimed appeal to "him in vain. He
was a man to be loved in spite of all his vices. Hd would
have been adored had his virtues l^een more, or more real.
But his virtue was too often — like his love for popular and
parliamentary liberty — rather allected (han ival ; and at all
events, not to be relied upon.
When a deputation of Quakers waited on the prince
to solicit him to support by himself and fiiends a clause
of the Tything i)i!l in tlieir favour, he rei)lied : 'As I
CAROLINE WILHELMIXA DOROTHEA. 405
am a friend to liberty in general, and to toleration in par-
ticular, I wish you may meet with all proper favour ; but,
for myself, I never gave my vote in parliament ; and to
influence my friends or direct my servants in theirs does
not become my station. To leave them entirely to their
own consciences and understandings is a rule I have
hitherto prescribed to myself, and purpose through life to
observe.' Andrew Pitt, who was at the head of the
deputation, replied : ' May it please the Prince of Wales,
I am greatly affected Vv^th thy excellent notions of liberty,
and am more pleased with the answer thou hast given us
than if thou hadst granted our request.' But the answer
was not a sincere one, and the parhamentary friends and
servants of the prince were expected to hold their con-
sciences at his direction. Once Lord Doneraile ventured
to disregard this influence ; upon which the prince
observed : ' Does he think that I will support him unless
he will do as I would have him ? Does he not consider
that whoever maybe my ministers, I must be king?'
Of such a man Walpole's remark was not far wide of
truth when he said that Frederick resembled the Black
Prince only in one circumstance — in dying before his
father !
He certainly exhibited httle of the chivalrous spirit
of the Black Prince. In 1745, vexed at not being pro-
moted to the command of the army raised to crush the
rebellion, and especially annoyed that it was given to his
brother, the Duke of Cumberland, who had less vanity
and more courage, he ridiculed all the strategic dis-
positions of the authorities ; and when Carhsle was being
besieged by the rebels, a representation in paste of the
citadel was served up at his table, at dessert, which, at
the head of the maids of honour, he bombarded with
sugar-plums.
The young Prince George, afterwards George III,
406 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
' behaved excessively well on his father's death.' The
words are Walpole's ; and he establishes his attestation by-
recording, that when he was informed of liis father's
decease, he turned pale and laid his hand on his breast.
Upon wliich his reverend tutor, Ayscough, said, very
much hke a simpleton, and not at all like a divine, ' I am
afraid, sir, you are not well.' ' I feel,' said the boy,
' something here, just as I did when I saw the two
workmen fall from the scaffold at Kew.' It was not the
speech of a boy of parts, nor an epitaph deeply filial in
sentiment on the death of a parent ; but one can see that
the young prince was conscious of some painful grief,
though he liardly knew how to dress his sensations in
equivalent words.
Anotlier son of Frederick, Edward, Duke of York,
was ' a very plain boy, with strange loose eyes, but was
much the favourite. He is a sayer of things,' remarks
Walpole. Nine years after his father's death. Prince
Edward had occasion to pay as warm a compliment to
Lady Huntingdon as ever had been paid lier by his
father. The occasion was a visit to the Magdalen, in
1760. A large party accompanied Prince Edward from
Northumberland House to the evening service, Tliey
were rather wits than worshippers ; for among them were
Horace Walpole, Colonel Brudenell, and Lord Hertford,
with Lords Huntingdon and Dartmouth to keep the wits
within decent limits. The ladies were all gay in silks,
satins, and rose-coloured taffeta ; there were the Lady
Northumberland herself. Ladies Chesterfield, Carlisle,
Dartmouth, and Hertford, Lady Fanny Shirley, Lady
Selina Hastings, Lady Gertrude Hotliam, and Lady Mary
Coke. Lord Hertford, at the head of the governors, met
the prince and his brilliant suite at the doors, and con-
ducted him to a sort of throne in front of the altar. The
clergyman, who preached an eloquent and impressive
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 407
sermon from Luke xix. 20, was, not many years after,
dragged from Newgate to Tyburn, and there ignominiously
hung. Some one in t]ie company sneeringly observed
that Dr. Dodd had preached a very Methodistical sort of
sermon. ' You are fastidious indeed,' said Prince Edward
to the objector : ' I thought it excellent, and suitable to
season and place ; and in so thinking, I have the honour
of being of the same opinion as Lady Huntingdon here,
and I rather fancy that she is better versed in theology
than any of us.' This was true, and it was gracefully
said. The prince, moreover, backed his opinion by
leaving a fifty-pound note in the plate.
4o8 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
CHAPTEK XI.
THE LAST yE.\ES OF A KEIGN.
Princess Augusta named Regent in the event of a minority — Cause of tlie
Prince's death — Death of the Prince of Orange — The King's fondness
for the theatre — Allusion to the King's age — Death of the Queen of
Denmark — Her married life unhappy — Sulfered from a similar cause
with her mother— Piage of Lady Suffolk at a sermon by Whitfield —
Lady Huntingdon insulted by her — "War in Canada — Daily life of the
Xiiio- — Establishments of the sons of Fredericlv — Death of the truth-
lovino- Princess Caroline — Deaths of Princess Elizabeth and Princess
Anne — Queen Caroline's rebuke of her — Death of the King— Dr. Por-
teous's eulogistic epitaph on him — The King's personal property — The
royal funeral — The burlesque Duke of Newoastle.
The last nine years of the reign of the consort of CaroUne
were of a very varied character. The earhest of his
acts after the death of Fi-ederick was one of which
Carohne would certainly not have approved. In case of
his demise before the next heir to the throne should be
of ao-e, he, with consent of parliament, named the widow
of Frederick as regent of the kingdom. This appoint-
ment gave great umbrage to the favourite son of Caroline,
William, Duke of Cumberland, and it was one to which
Caroline herself would never have consented.
But George now cared little for what tlie opinions of
Carohne mvjlit have been ; and the remainder of his days
was spent amid death, gaiety, and politics. The j-ear in
which Frederick died was marked by the decease of the
luisband of Caroline's eldest daughter, of whose plainness,
wooing, and marriage 1 have previously spoken. The
Prince of Orange died ou the lltli of October 1751.
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 409
He had not improved in beauty since his marriage, but,
increasingly ugly as he became, his wife became also
increasingly jealous of him. Importunate, however, as
the jealousy was, it had the merit of being founded on
honest and healthy affection.
The immediate cause of the prince's death was an
imposthume in the head. Although his health had been
indifferent, his death was rather sudden and unexpected.
Lord Holdernesse -vvas sent over from England by the
King, Walpole says, ' to learn rather than to teach,' but
certainly with letters of condolence to Caroline's widowed
daughter. She is said to have received the paternal sym-
pathy and advice in the most haughty and insulting
manner. She was proud, perhaps, of being made the
gouvernante of her son ; and she probably remembered
the peremptory rejection by her father of the interested
sympathy she herself had offered him on the decease of
her mother, to whose credit she had hoped to succeed at
St. James's.
But George himself had little sympathy to spare, and
felt no immoderate grief for the death of either son or
son-in-law. On the 6th of November 1751, within a
month of the prince's death, and not very many after that
of his son and heir to the throne, George was at Drury
Lane Theatre. The entertainment, played for his especial
pleasure, consisted of Farquhar's ' Beaux Stratagem ' and
Eielding's 'Intriguing Chambermaid.' In the former,
the King was exceedingly fond of the ' Foigard ' of Yates
and the ' Cherry ' of Miss Minors. In the latter piece, Mrs.
Clive played her original part of ' Lettice,' a part in which
she had then delighted the town — a town which could
be delighted with such parts — for now seventeen years.
Walpole thus relates an incident of the night. He is
writing to Sir Horace Mann, from Arlington Street, under
the date of the 22nd of November 1751 : ' A certain King,
4IO LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
tliat, whatever airs you may give yourself, you are not at all
like, was last week at the play. The intriguing chamber-
maid in the farce says to the old gentleman, ' You are
villainously old ; you are sixty-six ; you can't have the
im})udence to think of living above two years.' The old
gentleman in the stage-box turned about in a passion, and
said, "This is d—d stuff!"'
George was right in his criticism, but rather coarse
than king-like in expressing it. Walpole too, it may be
noticed, misquotes what his friend Mrs. Clive said in her
character of Lettice, and he misquotes evidently for the
purpose of making the story more pointed against the
King, wdio "svas as sensitive upon the point of age as
Louis XIV. himself. Lettice does not say to Oldcastle
' you are villainously old.' She merely states the three
obstacles to Oldcastle marrying her young mistress. ' Li
the first place your great age ; you are at least some
sixty-six. Then there is, in the second place, your
terrible ungenteel air ; and tliirdly, that horrible face of
yours, which it is impossible for any one to see without
being frightened.' She does, however, add a phrase
which must have sounded harshly on the ear of a sensitive
and sexagenarian King ; though not more so than on
that of any other auditor of the same age. ' I think you
could not have the conscience to live above a year or a
year and a half at most.' The royal criticism, then, was
correct, however roughly expressed.
In the same year, 1751, died another of the cliildren
of George and Caroline — Louisa, Queen of Denmark.
She had only reached her twenty-seventh year, and had
l3cen eight years married. Her mother loved her, and
the nation admired her for her grace, amiability, and
talents. Her career, in many respects, resembled that of
her mother. She was married to a king who kept a
mistress in order that the world should think he was
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 411
independent of all influence on the part of liis wife. She
was basely treated by this king ; but not a word of com-
plaint against him entered into the letters which this
spirited and sensible woman addressed to her relations.
Indeed, she had said at the time of her marriage that, if
she should become unhappy, her family should never
know anything about it. She died, in the flower of her
age, a terrible death, as Walpole calls it, and after an
operation which lasted an hour. The cause of it was
the neglect of a slight rupture, occasioned by stooping
suddenly when enceinte^ the injury resulting from which
she imprudently and foolishly concealed. This is all the
more strange, as her mother, on her death-bed, said to
her : ' Louisa, remember I die by being giddy and obsti-
nate, in having kept my disorder a secret.' Her farewell
letter to her father and family, a most touching address,
and the similitude of her fate to that of her mother,
sensibly affected the almost dried-up heart of the King.
' This has been a fatal year to my family,' groaned the
son of Sophia Dorothea. ' I lost my eldest son, hut I v:as
glad of it. Then the Prince of Orange died, and left
everything in confusion. ]i*oor little Edward has been
cut open for an imposthume in his side ; and now the
Queen of Denmark is gone ! I know I did not love my
children when they were young ; I hated to have them
coming into the room ; but now I love them as well as
most fathers.'
The Countess of Suffolk (the servant of Carohne and
the mistress of Caroline's husband) was among the few
persons whom the eloquence and fervour of Whitfield
failed to touch. When this latter was chaplain to Lady
Huntingdon, and in the habit of preaching in the drawing-
room of that excellent and exemplary woman, there was
an eager desire to be among the privileged to be admit-
ted to hear him. This privilege was solicited of Lady
412 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
Huntingdon by Lady Eockingham, for the King's ex-
favourite, Lady Suffolk. The patroness of Whitfiekl tliouglit
of Magdalen repentant, and expressed her readiness to
welcome her, an additional sheep to an increasing flock.
The beauty came, and Whitfield preached neither more
nor less earnestly, unconscious of her presence. So
searching, however, was his sermon, and so readily could
the enraged fan' one apply its terrible truths to herself,
that it was only with difficulty she could sit it out with
apparent calm. Inw^ardly, she felt that she had been
the especial object at which her assailant had ffung his
sharpest arrows. Accordingly, when Whitfield had re-
tired, the exquisite fiu'y, chafed but not repentant, tm'ned
upon the meditative Lady Huntingdon, and well nigh
annihilated her with the torrent and power of her in-
vective. Her sister-in-law. Lady Betty Germain, implored
her to be silent ; but only the more unreservedly did she
empty the vials of her wrath upon the saintly lady of
the house, who was lost in astonishment, anger, and
confusion. Old Lady Bertie and the Dowager Duchess
of Ancaster rose to her rescue ; and, by right of their
relationship with the lady whom the King delighted to
lionoiu', required her to be silent or ci\il. It was all in
vain : the irritated fair one maintained that she had been
brought there to be pilloried by the preacher ; and she
finally swept out of the room, leaving behind her an
assembly in various attitudes of wonder and alarm ; some
fairly deafened by the thundering echoes of her expressed
wrath, others at a loss to decide whether Lady Hunting-
don had or had not directed tlie arrows of the preacher,
and all most charmingly unconscious that, be that as it
might, the lady was only smarting because she had rubbed
against a sermon bristling? Avith the most stinfyin<»' truths.
Whitfield made note of those of the royal household
who repaii'cd to the services over which he presided in
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 4^3
Lady Huntingdon's house. In 1752, when he saw regu-
larly attending among his congregation one of Queen
Caroline's ex-ladies, Mrs. Grinfield, he twites thereupon :
' One of Cgesar's household hath been lately awakened by
her ladyship's instrumentality, and I hope others will
meet with the like blessino-.'
In 1755 England and France were at issue touching
their possessions in Canada. The dispute resulted in a
war ; and the war brought with it the temporary loss of
the Electorate of Hanover to England, and much addi-
tional disgrace ; which last was not wiped out till the
great Pitt was at the helm, and by his spirited adminis-
tration helped England to triumph in every quarter of
the globe. Amid misfortune or victory, however, the
King, as outwardly ' impassible ' as ever, took also less
active share in public events than he did of old ; and he
hved with the regularity of a man who has a regard for
his health. Every night, at nine o'clock, he sat down to
cards. The party generally consisted of his two daughters,
the Princesses Amelia and Caroline, two or three of the
late Queen's ladies, and as many of the gentlemen of the
household — whose presence there was a proof of the
Sovereign's personal esteem for them. Had none other
been present, the party would have been one on which
remark would not be called for. But at the same table
with the children of good Queen Carohne was seated
tlieh' father's mistress, the naturahsed German Baroness
Walmoden — Countess of Yarmouth. George II. had no
idea that the presence of such a woman was an outrage
committed upon his own children. Every Saturday, in
summer, he cnrried those ladies, but without his daughters,
to Eichmond. They went in coach es-and-six, in the
middle of the day, with the heavy horse-guards kicking
up the dust before them — dined, walked an hour in the
garden, returned hi the same dusty parade ; and his
4H LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
Majesty fancied himself the most gallant and lively prince
in Europe.^
He had leisure, however, to think of the estabhsh-
ment of the sous of Frederick ; and in 1756 George II.
sent a message to his grandson, now Prince of Wales,
whereby he offered him 40,000/. a-year and apartments
at Kensington and St. James's. The prince accepted the
allowance, but dechned the residence, on the ground that
separation from his mother would l)e painful to her.
When this plea was made, the prince, as Dodington re-
marks in his diary, did not hve with his mother, either
in town or country. The prince's brother Edward, after-
wards created Duke of York, was furnished with a modest
revenue of 5,000/. a-year. The young prince is said to
have been not insensible to the attractions of Lady Essex,
daughter of Sir Charles Williams. ' The prince,' says
Walpole, ' has got his liberty, and seems extremely dis-
posed to use it, and has great Hfe and good humour. She
has akeady made a ball for him. Sir Eichard Lyttelton
was so wise as to make her a visit, and advise her not
to meddle with pohtics ; that the Princess (Dowager of
Wales) would conclude that it was a plan laid for bring-
ing together Prince Edward and 1\x. Fox. As Mr. Fox
was not just the person my Lady Essex was thinking of
bringing together with Prince Edward, she repUed, very
cleverly, " And, my dear Sir Eichard, let me advise you
not to meddle witli politics neither." '
From the attempt to estabhsh the Prince of Wales
under his own superintendence, the King was called to
mourn over the death of another child.
The truth-loving CaroUne Elizabeth was unreservedly
beloved by her parents, was worthy of tlie affection, and
repaid it by an ardent attachment. She was fiiir, good,
accomplished, and unhappy. Tlie cause of her un-
^ Walj ole.
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 4^5
happiness may be perhaps more than guessed at in the
circumstance of lier retiring from the world on the death
of Lord Hervey. The sentiment with which he had, for
the salve of vanity or ambition, inspired her was deve-
loped into a sort of motherly love for his children, for
whom .she exhibited o'reat and constant reo'ard. There-
with she Avas conscious of but one stronsf desire — a
O
desire to die. For many years previous to her decease
she lived in her father's palace, literally ' cloistered up,'
inaccessible to nearly all, yet with active sympathy for
the poor and suffering classes in the metropolis.
Walpole, speaking of the death of the Princess Caro-
line, the third daughter of George II., says : ' Though her
state of health had been so dangerous for years, and her
absolute confinement for many of them, her disorder was,
in a manner, new and sudden, and her death unexpected
Ijy herself, though earnestly her wish. Her goodness
was constant and uniform, her generosity immense, her
charities most extensive ; in short, I, no royalist, could
be lavish in her praise. What will divert you is that the
Duke of Norfolk's and Lord Northumberland's upper
servants have asked leave to put themselves in mourning,
not out of regard for this admirable princess, but to be
more sur le hon ton. I told the duchess I supposed they
would expect her to mourn hereafter for their relations.'
The princess died in December 1757, and early in
the following year the Kiiig was seized with a serious fit
of illness, which terminated in a severe attack of gout,
' which had never been at court above twice in his reign,'
says Walpole, and the appearance of which was con-
sidered as giving the royal sufferer a chance of five or
six years more of life. But it was not to be so ; for tlic
old royal lion in the Tower had just expired, and people
who could ' put that and that together ' could not but
pronounce oraculary that the royal man would follow the
4l6 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
royal brute. 'Nay,' says Lord Chesterfield to his son,
' this extravagancy was believed by many above people.'
The fine gentleman means that it was believed by many
of his own class.
It was not the old King, however, who was first to
be summoned from the royal circle by the Inevitable
Angel. A young princess passed aw^ay before the more
aged Sovereign. Walpole has a word or two to say upon
the death of the Princess Elizabeth, the second daughter
of Frederick, Prince of Wales, wdio died in the September
of this year. The immediate cause of death was an inflam-
mation, which carried lier off in two da}^^. ' Her figure,'
he says, ' w^as so verj^ unfortunate that it would have
been difficult for her to be happy ; but her parts and ap-
plication were extraordinaiy. I saw her act in " Cato "
at eight years old (when she could not stand alone, but
was forced to lean against the side-scene), better than any
of her brothers and sisters. She had been so un-
healthy that, at that age, she had not been taught to read,
but had learned the part of Lucia by hearing the others
study tlieir parts. She went to her fother and motlier,
and begged she might act. They put her off as gently
as they could ; she desired leave to repeat her part, and
when she did, it was with so much sense, that there was
no denying her.'
Before George's hour had yet come, another child
was to precede the aged father to the tomb. In 1759
Anne, the eldest and least loved of the daughters of Caro-
line, died in Holland. At the period of her birth, the 9th
of October 1709, lier godmother, Qaeen Anne, was occu-
pying the throne of England ; her grandfather, George,
was Elector of Hanover ; Sophia Dorotlica was languish-
ing in the castle of Ahlden, and her fatliev and mother
bore the title of Electoral Prince and Pi-iiicess. Slie was
born at Hanover ; and was five years old when, witli her
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 417
sister, Amelia Sophia, wlio was two years younger, lier
mother, the Princess Caroline, afterwards Queen, arrived in
this country on tlie 15th of October 1714. She early ex-
liibited a haughty and imperious disposition ; possessed
very little feeling for, and exercised very little gentleness
towards, those who even rendered her a wilhng service.
Queen Caroline sharply corrected this last defect. She
discovered that the princess was accustomed to make one
of her ladies-in-waiting stand by her bedside every night,
and read aloud to her till she fell asleep. On one occa-
sion the princess kept her lady standing so long, that
she at last Mnted from sheer fatigue. On the following
night, when Queen Caroline had retired to rest, she sent
for her offending daughter, and requested her to read
aloud to her for a while. The princess was about to take
a cliair, but the Queen said she could hear her better if
she read standing. Anne obeyed, and read till fatigue
made her pause. ' Go on,' said the Queen ; ' it entertains
inc.' Anne went on, sulkily and wearily; till, increasingly
weary, she once more paused for rest and looked round
for a seat. ' Continue, continue,' said the Queen ;' ' I am
not yet tired of listening.' Anne burst into tears with
vexation, and confessed that she was tired both of standing
and reading, and was ready to sink with fatigue. ' If you
feel so faint from one evening of such employment, wliat
must 3"our attendants feel, upon whom you force the same
discipline night after night? Be less selfish, my child,
in future, and do not indulge in luxuries purcliased at
the cost of weariness and ill-]iealth to others.' Anne did
not profit by tlie lesson ; and few people were warmly
attached to the proud and egotistical lady.
The princess spent nearly twenty years in England,
and a little more than a quarter of a century in Holland ;
the last seven years of that period she was a widow. Her
last thouGi'hts were for the a(_(i2;randisoment of her fiimily ;
VOL. I. E E
41 8 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
and, wlien she was battling witli death, she ralHcd her
strengtli in order to sign the contract of marriage be-
tween her daughter and the Prince Nassau Walberg, and
to write a letter to the States General, requesting them to
sanction the match. Having accomplished this, the
eldest daughter of Caroline laid down the pen, and calmly
awaited the death which Avas not long in coming.
It remains for us now only to speak of the demise of the
husband of Caroline. On the night of Friday, the 25tli of
October 1760, the King retired to rest at an early hour, and
Avell in health. At six (next morning) he drank his usual
cup of chocolate, walked to the window, looked out upon
Kensington Gardens, and made some observation upon the
direction of the wind, which had lately delayed the mails
from Holland, and wh ich kept from him intelligence which
he was anxious to receive, and which he was saved the
pain of hearing. George had said to the page-in-waitiiig
•that he would take a turn in the garden ; and he was on
his way thither, at seven o'clock, when the attendant
heard the sound of a fall. He entered the room through
which the King was passing on his way to the garden,
and he found George II. lying on the ground, with
a wound on the right side of his face, caused by striking
it in his fall against the side .of a bureau. He could
only say, ' Send for Amelia,' and then, gasping for
breath, died. Whilst the sick, almost deaf, and purblind
daugliter of the King was sent for, the message being
that her father wished to speak to her, the servants
carried the body to the bed from which the King had so
lately risen. They had not time to close the eyes, when
the princess entered the room. Before they could in-
form her of the unexpected catastrophe, she had ad-
vanced to the bedside : she stooped over him, fsmcying
that he was speaking to her, and that she could not hear
his words. The poor lady was sensibly shocked ; but
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 419
slie did not lose her presence of mind. She despatched
messengers for surgeons and wrote to the Prince of
Wales. The medical men were speedil}'' in attendance ;
but he was beyond mortal help, and they could only con-
clude tliat tlie King had died of the rupture of some
vessel of the heart, as he had for years been subject to
palpitation of that organ. Dr. Beilby Porteous, in his
panegyrising epitaph on the monarch, considers his death
as having been appropriate and necessary. He had accom-
plished all for which he had been commissioned, by
Heaven, and had received all the rewards in return which
Heaven could give to man on earth : —
Xo fuither blessing could ou earth be given,
The next degree of happiness — was Heaven.
George II. died possessed of considerable personal
property. Of this he bequeathed 50,000/. between the
Duke of Cumberland and the Princesses Amelia and
Mary. The share received by his daughters did not equal
what he left to his last ' favourite ' — Lady Yarmouth.
The legacy to that German lady, of whom he used to
write to Queen Caroline from Hanover, ' You must
love tlie Walmoden, for she loves me^ consisted of a
cabinet and ' contents,' valued, it is said, at 11,000/.
His son, the Duke of Cumberland, furtlier received
from him a bequest of 130,000/., placed on mort-
gages not immediately recoverable. The testator had
originally bequeathed twice that amount to his son ;
but he revoked half, on the ground of the expenses
of the war. He describes liim as the best son that
ever lived, and declares that he had never given
him cause to be offended : ' A pretty strong com-
ment,' as Horace Walpole remarks, when detailing
the incidents of tlie King's decease, ' on tlie affair
of Klosterseven.' Tlie King's jewels were worth,
E F. 2
420 LIVES OF THE QLEEXS OF ENGLAND.
according to Lady Suffolk, 150,000/.: of the best of
tlieni, Avliicli he kept iii Hanover, he made crown
jewels ; the remainder, \\\\\\ some cabinets, were left
to the duke. ' Two days before the King died,' says
Walpole, ' it happened oddly to my Lady Suflblk. She
\\(i\\i to make a visit at Kensino;ton, not knowino; of the
review. She found herself hemmed in by coaches, and
was close to him ^vhom she had not seen for so many
3'eai's, and to my Lad)" Yarmouth ; but they did not
know her. It struck her, and has made her sensible to
liis death.'
Litelligence of the King's decease was sent, as before
said, to the Prince of Wales, by the Princess Amelia.
The heir-apparent, however, received earlier intimation of
the fact through a German valet-de-chamhre, at Kensing-
ton. The latter despatched a note, which bore a private
mark previously agreed upon, and which reached tlie
heir to so much o-reatness as he was out ridiuij. He
knew what had happened by the sign. ' Without sur-
prise or emotion, without dropping a w^ord that indicated
wdiat had happened, he said his horse was lame, and
turned back to Kew. At dismounting he said to the
groom : " I liave said this horse was lame ; I forbid you
to say to the contrary." ' If this story of Walpole's be
true, the longest reign in England started from a lie.
In the meantime there was the old King to bury, and
lie was consigned to the tomb with a ceremony which
has been graphically pictured by Horace Walpole. He
describes himself as attending the funeral, not as a
mourner, but as ' a rag of quality,' in which character
he walked, as afTordincr him the best means of seein" the
show. He pronounced it a noble sight, and he appears
to have enjoyed it extremely. 'The Prince's chamber,
liung with i)uri)le, and a quantity of silver lamps, the
C(jffin under a caiioj)y of purple velvet, and six vast
CAROLINE WILHELMINA DOROTHEA. 42 1
chandeliers of silver, on high stands, had a very good
efTect. The procession, through a line of foot-giiards,
every seventh man bearing a torch — the horse-guards
lining the outsides — their ofFicei's, Avith drawn sabres and
crape sashes, on horseback — the drums muffled — the
fifes — bells tolling — and minute guns — all this was very
solemn.' There was, however, something more exquisite
still in the estimation of this very unsentimental rag of
quality. ' The charm^ he says, ' the charm was the
entrance to the Abbey, where we were received by the
dean and chapter in rich robes, the choir and almoners
bearing torches ; the whole Abbey so illuminated that
one saw it to greater advantage than by day ; the tombs,
long aisles, and fretted roof all appearing distinctly, and
with the happiest cliiaro oscuro. There wanted nothing
but incense and little chapels here and there, with priests
saying mass for the repose of the defunct ; yet one could
not complain of its not being Catholic enough. I had
been in dread of being coupled with some boy of ten
years old ; but the heralds were not very accurate, and I
walked with George Grenville, taller and older, to keep
me in countenance. When we came to the chapel of
Henry VII. all solemnity and decorum ceased ; no order
was observed, people sat or stood where they could or
would ; the yeomen of the guard were crying out for
help, oppressed by the immense weight of the coffin ;
the bishop read sadly, and blundered in the prayers. The
fine chapter, Man that is horn of a iuoma?i, was chanted,
not read ; and the anthem, besides being immeasurably
tedious, would have served as well for a nuptial. The
real serious part was the figure of the Duke of Cumber-
land, heightened by a thousand melancholy circiniistances.
He had a dark-brown adonis, with a cloak of black cloth,
and a train of five yards. Attending the funeral of a
father could not he pleasant ; his leg extremely Ijad, yet
42 2 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
forced to stand upon it near two hours ; liis face bloated
and disturbed with liis late paralytic stroke, which has
affected, too, one of his eyes ; and placed over the mouth
of the vault, into which, in all probability, he must him-
self soon descend ; think how unpleasant a situation. He
bore it all with a firm and unaffected countenance. This
grave scene was fully contrasted by the burlesque Duke
of Newcastle. He fell into a (it of crying the moment he
came into the chapel, and flung himself back into a stall,
the archbishop hovering over him with a smelling-bottle ;
but in two minutes his curiosity got the better of his
hypocrisy, and he ran about the chapel with his glass, to
spy who was or who was not there, spying with one hand
and mopping his eyes mth the other. Then returned
the fear of catching cold ; and the Duke of Cumberland,
who was sinking with heat, felt himself Vv^eighed down,
and turning round, found it was the Duke of Newcastle
standing upon his train to avoid the chill of the marble.
It was YQYy theatrical to look down into the vault, where
the coffin lay attended by mourners with lights. Clavering,
th.e groom of the chamber, refused to sit up w^ith the
body, and was dismissed by the King's order.'
Speaking of the last year of the life of George H.,
Walpole remarks, with a truth that cannot be gainsaid :
' It was glorious and triumphant beyond example ; and
his death was most feUcitous to himself, being without a
])ang, without tasting a reverse, and when his siglit and
hearing were so nearly extinguished that any prolongation
could but have swelled to calamities.'
423
CHARLOTTE SOPHIA,
WIFE OF GEORGE III.
CHAPTER I.
THE COMIXG OF THE BRIDE.
Lady Sarah Lennox, the object of George the Third's early affections — The
fair Quaker — Matrimonial commission of Colonel Grreme — Princess
Chai'lotte of Mecklenburgh — Her spirited letter to the King of Prussia —
Demanded in marriage by George the Third — Arrival in England — Her
progress to London— Colchester and its candied eringo-root — Enter-
tained by Lord Abercoru — Arrival in Loudon, and reception — Claim
of the Irish Peeresses advocated by Lord Charlemont — The Royal
marriage — The fii'st drawing-room — A comic anecdote — The King and
Queen at the Chapel Royal — At the theatre ; accidents on the occasion
— The coronation — Incidents and anecdotes connected with it — The
young Pretender said to have been present — The coronation produced
at the theatre.
The eldest son of Frederick, Prince of Wales, was yet
young wlien his grandfather began to consider the ques-
tion of his marriage ; and, it is said, had designed to form
a union between him and a princess of the royal family
of Prussia. The design, if ever formed, entirely failed ;
and while those most anxious for the Protestant succes-
sion were occupied in naming princesses worthy to
espouse an heir to a throne, that heir himself is said to
have fixed his yoiuig affections on an English lady, whose
virtues and beauty might have made her ehgible had not
the accident of her not being a foreigner barred her way
424 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAXD.
to the tliioiie. Tliis lady was Lady Sarah Lennox ; and
a vast amount of gossip was expended ii})on her and the
yjiuig piince by tliose busy persons whose cliief occupa-
tion consists in arranoinu' the affairs of others. It is
impossible to say how far this young couple were en-
gaged ; but tne fact, as surmised, rendered the friends of
the })rince, now George III., more anxious than ever to
see him })rovided with a fair partner on the throne.
George III. had first been ' smitten ' by seeing Lady
k^arah Lennox making hay in a field close to the high
road in Ivensino;ton. She was charminoj in feature,
figure, and expression ; but her great beauty, according
to Henry Fox, was ' a peculiarity of countenance that
made her at the same time different from, and prettier
than, any other girl I ever saw.' At a private court ball,
the young King said to Lady Susan Strangways : ' Tliere
will be no coronation until there is a Queen, and I think
your friend is the fittest person for it ; tell her so from
me.' Subsequently, the enamoured monarch had an
opportunity of asking Lady Sarah if she had received the
message confided to Lady Susan. On the young lady
replying in the afiSrmative, and on her being asked what
she thought of it, her answer was : ' Xothing, sir ! ' Her
friends, however, thought a good deal of it. As Lady
Sarah Avas once entering the presence chamber, Lady
Bamngton gently pulled the skirt of her dress, and said :
' Let me go in before you ; for you wWX never have
another opportunity of seeing my beautiful back.' Lady
Ikrrington was famed for the beauty of her shoulders.
Lady Sarah, too, had tliought more about the King's
message than she had confessed to tlic Kinjij himself.
Wlien the news reached her that the youno; Sovereijin
was about to marry a 'Princess of Mecklcjiburgh,' she
wrote to Lady Susan : ' Does not your choler rise at
heariiisj' this. I sliall take care to sliow that I am not
CHARLOTTE SOPHIA. 425
mortified to anybody ; but if it is true tliat one can vex
anybody with a cold, reserved manner, lie shall have it,
I promise him.' Anon, the writer thinks she only liked
him a little, and the ' disappointment afiected her only
for an hour or two.' Ultimately, she remarks : ' If he
were to change his mind again (which can't be, tho'), and
not give a very., very good reason for his conduct, T would
not have him. We are to act a play and have a little
ball, to show that we are not so melancholy quite ! '
And thus the disappointment was ostensibly got over.
Walpole has described the lady who first raised a
tender feeling in the breast of George in very graphic
terms : ' There was a play at Holland House, acted by
children ; not all children, for Lady Sarah Lennox ' (sub-
sequently Lady Sarah Napier) 'and Lady Susan Strang-
ways played the women. It was 'Jane Shore.' Charles
Fox was Hastings. The two girls were delightful, and
acted with so much nature that they appeared the very
things they represented. Lady Sarah was more beautiful
than you can conceive ; and her very awkwardness gave
an air of truth to the sham of the part, and the antiquity
of the time, kept up by her dress, which was taken out
of Montfaucon. Lady Susan was dressed from Jane
Seymour. I was more struck with the last scene between
the two w^omen than ever I was when I have seen it on the
stage. When Lady Sarah was in white, with her hair
about her ears, and on the ground, no Magdalen of Cor-
reggio was half so lovely and expressive.'
But there is a pretty romance extant, based, as even
romances may be, npon some foundation of reality ; and,
accordino; to the narrators thereof, it is said that the
King, when yet only Prince of Wales, had been attracted
by the charms cf a young Quakeress, mimed Lightfo()t
(of the vicinity of St. James's Market), long before he
had felt subdued by the more bi'illiant beauty of Lady
426 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
Sarah Lennox. The romance has been reconnted cir-
cumstantially enougli by its authors and editors ; and, if
tliese are to be trusted, the young prince was so
enamoured that, finding his peace of mind and happiness
depended on his being united to the gentle Hannah, he
made a confidant of his brother, Edward, Duke of York,
and another person, who has never had the honour of
being named, and in their presence a marriage was con-
tracted privately at Curzon Street Chapel, Mayfair, in
the year 1759 !
A few years previous to this time, Mayfair had been
the favourite locality for the celebration of hurried mar-
riages, particularly at ' Keith's Chapel,' which was within
ten yards of ' Curzon Chapel.' Tlie Eeverend Alexander
Keith kept open altar during the usual office hours from
ten till four, and married parties for the small fee of a
guinea, license included. Parties requiring to be united
at other hours paid extra. The Eeverend Alexander so
outraged the law that he was publicly excommunicated
in 1742 ; for which he as publicly excommunicated the
excommunicators in return. Seven years before George
is said to have married Hannah Lightfoot at Curzon
Chapel, James, the fourth Duke of Hamilton, was married
at ' Keith's' to tlie youngest of tlie beautiful Misses
Cunning — ' with a ring of the bed-curtain,' says Horace
Walpole, ' and at half an hour after twelve at night.'
The rest of tlie pretty romance touching George and
Hannah is ratlier lumbering in its construction. The
married lovers are said to have kept a little household of
tlieir own, and round the hearth thereof we are further
told that tliere were not wanting successive young faces,
adding to its happiness. But there came tlie moment
when the dream was to disap[)ear and the sleeper to
awaken. We are told by tlie retailers of tlie story tliat
Hannah Light foot was privately disposed of — not by
CHARLOTTE SOPHIA. 427
bowl, prison, or dagger, but by espousing her to a gentle
Streplion named Axford, who, for a pecuniary considera-
tion, took Hannah to wife, and asked no impertinent
questions. They lived, at least Hannah did, for a time,
in Harper Street, Eed Lion Square. The story is an in-
different one, but it has been so often alluded to that
some notice of it seemed necessary in this place.
Something more than rumour asserts that the young
King was attracted by the stately grace of Elizabeth
Spencer, Countess of Pembroke, who is described as a
living picture of majestic modesty. In after years, the
King looked on the mother of the Napiers, and on the
above-named countess, with a certain loving interest. In
the intervals of his attacks of insanity, it is said that he
used to dwell with impassioned accents on the former
beauty of the majestic countess.
The Iviug's mother had been most averse to the Prus-
sian connection. Mr. Fox, afterwards Lord Holland, is
said to have done his best to further a imion with a
subject. The Princess-dowager of Wales and Lord Bute
would have selected a princess of Saxe Gotha ; but it
was whispered that there was a constitutional infirmity
in that family which rendered an alliance with it in no
way desirable. Besides, George II. said he had had
enough of that family already. A Colonel Grasme v/as
then despatched to Germany, and rumour invested him
with the commission to visit the German courts, and if he
could find among them a princess who was faultless in
form, feature, and character, of sound liealth and highly
accomplished, he was to report accordingly. Colonel
Gramme, love's military messenger, happened to fall in at
Pyrmont with the Princess- dowager of Strehtz and her
two daughters. At the gay baths and salutary springs of
Pyrmont very little etiquette was observed, even in those
very ceremonious times, and great people wQut about
4^8 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
less ill masquerade and less strait-laced than they were
wont to do at home, in the circle of their own courts.
In tliis sort of neglige tliere was a clianii which favoured
tlie development of character, and under its iiifhience (he
scrutinising colonel soon vicariously fell in lov(? with tlie
young Princess Charlotte, and at once made the report
wliicli led to the royal marriage that ensued.
There were persons who denied tliat this little
romantic drama was ever played at all ; but as the
colonel was subsequently appointed to tlie mastership of
St. Catherine's Hospital, the prettiest bit of preferment
possessed by a Queen-consort, other persons looked upon
tJie appointment as the due acknowledgment of a princess
grateful for favours received.
But, after all, the young King is positively declared to
have chosen for himself. Tlie King of Prussia at that
time was a man nnu^h addicted to disregard the
rights of his contemporaries, and among other outrages
committed by his army, was the invasion, and almost
desolating, of the little dominion of Mecklenburgli
Strelitz, the ducal possession of the Princess Charlotte's
brother. This act inspired, it is said, the lady last-named
to pen a letter to the nionarch, which was as full of s[)irit
as of logic, and not likely to have been written by so
young a lady. The letter, however, was sufficiently spirited
and conclusive to win reputation for the alleged wi'iter.
Its great charm was its simple and touching truthfulness,
and the letter, whether foi'v/arded to George by the Pru:--
sian king, or laid before him by his mother the })riiicess-
dowager, is said to have liad such an influence on his
mind, as to at once inspire liim with feelings of admira-
tion for tlie Avriter. vVftcr praising it, the King exclaimed
t<» I.ord llcriroiil : '11iis is ilu; lady whom I shall .seK'cl
ibr my CDii-ort — lu'ie are lasting beauties — the man who
has any mind may feast and not be satisfied. If the dis-
CHARLOTTE SOPHIA. 429
position of tlic princess but c]^uals her rcrincd sense, I
sliiiU be tlie liappiest man, as I hope, with my people's
concurrence, to be the greatest monarch in Europe.'
The lady on whom tliis eulogy was uttered Avas
Charlotte Sophia, the younger of the two daughters of
Charles Louis, Duke of Mirow, by Albertina Elizabetli, a
princess of the ducal house of Saxe Hilburghausen. The
Duke of Mirow was the second son of the Duke of
Mecklenburo;h Strelitz, and was a lieutenant-Q;eneral in
the service of the Emperor of Germany when Charlotte
Sophia was born, at Mirow, on the IGth of May 1744.
Four sons and one other daughter were the issue of this
marriage. The eldest son ultimately became Duke of
Mecklenburgh Strelitz, and to the last-named place the
Princess Charlotte Sophia (or Charlotte, as she was com-
monly called) and her family removed in 1751, on the
death of the DidvC Charles Louis.
At seven years of age she had for her instructress that
verse-writing Madame de Grabow, whom the Germans
fondly and foolishly compared with Sappho. The post
of instructress was shared by many partners ; but, finally,
to the poetess succeeded a philosopher, Dr. Gentzner,
who, from the time of his undertaking the office of tutor
to that of the marriage of his ' serene ' pupil, imparted to
the latter a varied wisdom and knowledge, made up of
Lutheran divinity, natural history, and mineralogy.
Charlotte not only cultivated these branches of education
with success, but others also. She was a very fair
linguist, spoke Frencli perhaps better than German, as
was the fashion of her time and country, could converse
in Italian, and knew something of English. Other
accounts say that she did not begin to learn Frencli till
she knew she was to leave Mecklenburgh. Her style
of drawing vras above that of an ordinary amateur ; she
danced like a lady, and played like an artist. Better
430 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
tlinn all, slic was a "woman of good sense, she had the
good fortune to be early taught the great truths of
rehgion, and she had the good taste to shape her course
by their requirements. She was not without fauUs, and
she had a will of her own. In short, she was a woman ;
a woman of sense and spirit, but occasionally making
mistakes hke any of her sisters.
The letter which slie is said to have addressed to tlie
King of Prussia, and the alleged writing of which is said
to have won for her a crown, has been often printed ;
but, well known as it is, it cannot well be omitted from
pages professing to give, however imperfectly, as in the
present case, some record of the supposed writer's life :
no one, however, will readily believe that a girl of sixteen
was the actual author of such a document as the follow-
ing : ' May it please your Majesty ... I am at a
loss whether I should congratulate or condole with you
on your late victory over Marshal Daun, ISTov. 3, 1760,
since the same success which has covered you with laurels
has overspread the country of Mecklenburgh witli deso-
lation. I know, Sire, that it seems unbecoming my sex,
in this age of vicious refmement, to feel for one's country,
to lament the horrors of war, or wisli for the return of
peace. I know you may think it more properly my
province to study the arts of pleasing, or to inspect
subjects of a more domestic nature ; but, however
unbecoming it may be in me, I cannot resist the desire
of interceding for this unhappy people.
' It was but a very few years ago tliat this territory
wore the most pleasing appearance ; the country was
cultivated, the peasants looked cheerful, and the towns
abounded with riches and festivity. What an alteration
at present from such a cliarming scene ! I am iiot expert
at description, nor can my fancy add any horrors to the
picture; l^ut, sure, even conquerors tlicmselves would
CHARLOTTE SOPHIA. 43 1
weep at the hideous prospects now 1)eforc mo. Tlie
whole country, my dear country, lies one frightful waste,
presenting only objects to excite terror, pity, and despair.
The business of tlie husbandman and the shepherd are
quite discontinued. The husbandman and the shepherd
are become soldiers themselves, and help to ravage the
soil they formerly cultivated. The towns are inhabited
only by old men, old women, and children ; perhaps here
and there a warrior, by wounds or loss of limbs rendered
unfit for service, left at his door ; his little children hang
round him, ask a history of every wound, and grow
themselves soldiers before they find strength for the
field. But this were nothing, did we not feel the alter-
nate insolence of either army, as it happens to advance or
retreat in pursuing the operations of the campaign.
It is impossible to express the confusion even those who
call themselves our friends create ; even those from ^vhom
we might expect redress oppress with new calamities.
From your justice, therefore, it is we hope relief. To you
even women and children may complain, whose humanity
stoops to the meanest petition, and whose power is capable
of repressing the greatest injustice.'
The very reputation of having written this letter
won for its supposed autlior the crown of a Queen-
consort. The members of the privy council, to whom
the royal intention was first communicated, thought it
almost a misalliance for a King of Great Britain, France,
and Ireland to wed with a la'ly of such poor estate as
the younger daughter of a very poor German prince.
Had they been ethnologists, tliey might have augured
well of a union between Saxon King and Sclavonic lady.
The Sclave blood runs pm^e in Mecklonburgli,
It was on tlie 8th of July 1761 that tlie King
announced to his council, in due and ordinary form, that
having nothing so mucli at heart as the welfare and
432 LIVES OF THE (JUEEXS OF ENGLAND.
happiness of liis people, and tliat to render tlie same
stable and permanent to posterity being the first object
of his reio-ii, lie had ever since his accession to the throne
turned liis thoughts to the choice of a princess with whom
he might find the solace of matrimony and the comforts
of domestic life ; he had to aunomice to them, therefore,
witli great satisfoction, that, after tlie most matm'e reflec-
tion and fullest information, he had come to a resolution
to demand in marriage the Princess Cliarlotte of Meck-
lenburgh Strelitz, a princess distinguished by every
amiable virtue and elegant endowment, whose illustrious
line liad continually shown tlie firmest zeal iov the
Protestant religion, and a particular attachment to his
Majesty's family. Lord Hardwicke, who had been fixed
upon by the King as his representative commissioned to
<^o to Strelitz, and ask the hand of the Princess Charlotte
Sophia in marriage, owed his appointment and his
subsequent nomination as master of the buckhounds to
his Majesty, to the circumstance that at the King's
accession he had been almost the only nobleman who
had not solicited some favour from the Crown. He was
so charmed with his mission that eveiything appeared to
liim coideur de rose, and not only was he enraptured with
' the most amiable young princess he ever saw,' but, as he
a'.lds in a letter to his friend, Mr. Mitchel, gratified at the
reception he had met with at the court of Strelitz,
a[)pearing as he did ' upon such an errand,' and happy to
find that ' the great honour the King has done this family
is seen in its proper light.' The business, as he remarks,
was not a didicult one. There were no thorns in his rosy
path. The little court, he tells us, exerted its utmost
abilities to make a figure suitable for this occasion, and,
in the envoy's opinion, tliey acquitted themselves not
only with magnificence and splendour, but with great
taste and propriety, liis lordship completed the treaty
CHARLOTTE SOPHIA. 433
of marriage on the 15tli of August. His testimony touching
the bride runs as follows : — ' Our Queen that is to be has
seen very little of the world ; but her very good sense,
vivacity, and cheerfulness, I dare say, will recommend
her to the King, and make her the darling of the British
nation. Slie is no regular beauty ; but she is of a very
pretty size, has a charming complexion, very pretty eyes,
and finely made. In short, she is a very fine girl.'
Mrs. Stuart, daughter-in-law of Lord Bute, left the
following note of the early life of the princess, and of the
marriage-by-proxy ceremony, derived from the Queen
herself : —
' Her Majesty described her life at Mecklenburgh as
one of extreme retirement. She dressed only en robe de
chambre, except on Sundays, on which day she put on
her best gown, and after service, which was very long,
took an airing in a coach-and-six, attended by guards and
all the state she could muster. She had not " dined " at
table at the period I am speaking of. One morning her
eldest brother, of whom she seems to have stood in great
awe, came to her room in company with the duchess, her
mother. . . . In a few minutes the folding doors
flew open to the saloon, which she saw splendidly illumi-
nated ; and then appeared a table, two cushions, and
everything prepared for a wedding. Her brother then
gave her his hand, and, leading her in, used his favourite
expression — " Allons, ne faites pas I' enfant, tu vas etre
Reine d'AngleterreJ' Mr. Drummond then advanced.
They knelt down. The ceremony, whatever it was,
proceeded. She was laid on the sofa, upon which he laid
his foot ; and they all embraced her, caUing her " La
Keine." '
' La Eeine ' was not such ' a very fine girl ' as not to
be startled by the superior beauty of the two principal
ladies who were sent to escort her to London. When the
VOL. I. F P
434 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
Princess Charlotte of Meckleiiburgh first looked ujx:)!! the
brilliant Duchesses of Ancixster and Hamilton, she could
not help exclaiming, with a sentiment apparently of self-
humility, ' Are all the women in England as beautiful as
you are ? '
The convoying fleet sent to conduct the princess to
England was commanded by the great Lord Anson. The
Tripoline ambassador could not but admire the honour
paid by his Majesty in sending so high an officer — ' the
first eunuch,' as the Mahometan called him — to escort the
bride to her new home.'
When the marriage treaty had been formally concluded,
after some delay caused by the death of the mother of
the princess, the little city of Strelitz became briefly mad
with joy and exultation. There were illuminations,
balls, fireworks, and artillery ; and for two days stupen-
dous state banquets followed each other, and said much
for the digestion of those who enjoyed them. On the
17th of August the princess left Strehtz, accompanied by
her brother, the grand duke, and in four days arrived
at Stade amid demonstrations of great delight on the part
of the population, ever grateful for an excitement and
especially so for one afforded them by a young Queen —
as the bride elect was already considered. On the 22nd
she embarked at Cuxhaven amid a salute from the whole
fleet. For more than a week she was as disrespectfully
tossed and tumbled about by the rough sea, over which
her path lay, as the Hero of New Zealand buffeting the
Avaves to meet her dusky Leander. During the voyage
a wave washed a sailor from the deck, and he perished
in the surging waters. At the end of the voyage the
bride was, rather unnecessarily informed of the calamity.
She had been undisturbed by nny cry of ' Man over-
board ! '
Thf royal yacht which bore the youthful bride was
CHARLOTTE SOPHIA. 435
surrouiicled by the squadron forming the convoy ; and
across as boisterous a sea as ever tried a ship or perplexed
a sailor the bride was carried in discomfort but safety,
till, on the evening of Sunday, the 6th of September, the
fleet and its precious freight arrived off Harwich. It was
Sunday evening, and the fact was not known in London
till Monday morning. The report of the ' Queen ' having
been seen off the coast of Sussex on Saturday was cur-
rent, but there was great uncertainty as to where she
was, whether she had landed, or when she would be in
town. ' Last night, at ten o'clock,' says Walpole on
Tuesday morning, ' it was neither certain where she
landed nor when she would be in town. I forg;ive
history for knowing nothing, when so public an event as
the arrival of a new Queen is a mystery even at this very
moment in St. James's Street. This messenger who
brought the letter yesterday morning, said she arnved at
half an hour after fom*, at Harwich. This was im-
mediately translated into landing, and notified in those
words to the ministers. Six hours afterwards it proved
no such thing, and that she was only in Harwich Eoad ;
and they recollected that half an hour after four happens
twice in twenty-four hours, and the letter did not specify
which of the twices it was. Well, the bride's-maids wliipped
on their virginity ; the New Eoad and the parks were
thronged ; the guns were choking with impatience to go
off; and Sir James Lowther, who was to pledge his
Majesty, was actually married to Lady Mary Stuart.
Five, six, seven, eight o'clock came, and no Queen.'
The lady so impatiently looked for remained on board
the yacht throughout the Sunday night. Storm-tost as
she had been, she had borne the voyage well, and had
' been sick but half an hour, singing and playing on the
harpsichord all the voyage, and been cheerful the whole
time.'
F F 2
43^ LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
On Monday she landed, but not till after dinner, and
then was received in the ancient town by the authorities,
and with all the usual ceremonies which it is the curse of
very great people to be fnted to encounter. Had the
young King been a really gallant monarch he would
have met his bride on the sea-shore ; but etiquette does
not allow of sovereigns being gallant, and the princess
was welcomed by no higher dignitary than a mayor. In
the afternoon she journeyed leisurely on to Colchester,
where she was entertained at the house of a loyal private
individual, Mr. Enew. Here Captain Birt served her
with coffee, and Lieutenant John Seaber waited on her
with tea ; this service being concluded, an inhabitant of
the town presented her with a box of candied eringo-root.
This presentation is always made, it would seem, to
royalty when the latter honours Colchester with a passing
visit. The old town is, or was, proud of its peculiar
production, ' candied eringo-root.' On the occasion in
question tlie presenter learnedly detailed the qualities of
the root ; and the young princess looked as interested as
she could while she was told that the eringium was of
the Pentandria Digynia class, that it had general and
partial corolla?, and that its root was attenuant and de-
obstruent, and was therefore esteemed a good hepatic,
uterine, and nephritic. Its whole virtue, it was added, con-
sists in its external or cortical part. There was a good
opportunity to draw a comparison between the root and
the bride, to the advantage of the latter, had the exhibitor
been so minded ; but the opportunity was allowed to
pass, and the owner of the eringo failed to allude to the
fact that the beauty in the royal features was surpassed
by the virtue indwelling in her heart.
The royal visitor learned all that could well be told
her, during lier brief stay, of the historical incidents
connected with the place;, and having taken tea and coffee
CHARLOTTE SOPHIA. 437
from the bauds of veteran waniors, and candied eriugo
from Mr. Green, and information touching the visits of
Queen Mary and Ehzabeth from the clergy and others,
the Princess Charlotte, or Queen Charlotte, as she was
already called, continued her journey, and by gentle
stages arrived at Lord Abercorn's house at Withani,
' 'twixt the gloaming and the murk,' at a quarter past
seven. The host himself was ' most tranquilly in town ; '
and the mansion was described as ' the palace of silence.'
The new arrivals, however, soon raised noise enough
within its walls ; for notwithstanding the dinner before
landing, some refreshment taken at Harwich, and the
tea, coffee, and candied eringo-root at Colchester, there
was still supper to be provided for the tired Queen and
her escort. The first course of the supper consisted of a
mixture of fowl and fish, ' leverets, partridges, carp, and
soles, brought by express from Colchester, just time
enough for supper.' There were besides many made
dishes, and an abundance of the choicest fruits that could
be procured. The Queen supped in public, one of the
penalties which royalty used to pay to the people. That
is, she sat at table with open doors, at which all
comers were allowed to congregate to witness the not
too edifying spectacle of a young bride feeding. This
exploit was accomplished by her Majesty, while Lord
Hardwicke and the gallant Lord Anson stood on either
side of the royal chair, and to the satisfaction of both
actress and spectators.
The Queen slept that night at Witham, and the next
day went slowly and satisfiedly on as far as ancient Eom-
ford, where she alighted at the house of a Mr. Dalton, a
wine-merchant. In this asylum she remained about an
hour, until the arrival of the royal servants and carriages
from Londou which were to meet her. The servants
having commenced their office with their new mistress
438 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
by serving her witli coflee, the Queen entered tlie royal
carriage, in which she was accompanied by tlie Duchesses
of Ancaster and Hamilton. As it is stated by the re-
corders of the incidents of that day that her Majesty was
attired ' entirely in the English taste,' it may be worth
adding, to show what that taste was, that ' she wore
a fly-cap with rich lace lappets, a stomacher ornamented
with diamonds, and a gold brocade suit of clothes with a
white ground.' Thus decked out, tlie Queen, preceded
by three carriages containing ladies from Mecklenburgh
and lords from St. James's, was conveyed through lines
of people, militia, and horse and foot guards to London.
' Slie was much amused,' says Mrs. Stuart, ' at the crowds
of people assembled to see her, and bowed as she passed.
She was hideously dressed in a blue satin quilted Jesuit,
which came up to her chin and down to her waist, her
hair twisted up into knots called a tete de rnouton^ and the
strangest little blue coif at the top. She had a great
jewel like a Sevigne, and earrings like those now worn,
with many drops, a present from the Empress of Russia,
who knew of her marriage before she did herself.' She
entered the capital by the suburb of Mile End, which for
dirt and misery could hardly be equalled by anything at
Mirow and Strelitz. Having passed through Whitechapel,
which must have given her no very high idea of the civili-
sation of tlie British people, she passed on westward, and
proceeding by the longest route, continued along Oxford
Street to Hyde Park, and finally reached the garden-gate
of St. James's at three m the afternoon. Before she left
Romford, one of the English ladies in attendance recom-
mended her to ' curl her toupee ; she said she thought it
looked as well as that of any of the ladies sent to fetch
her ; if the King bid her she would wear a periwig ;
otherwise she would remain as she was.'
' Just as they entered Constitution Hill one of the ladies
CHARLOTTE SOPHIA. 439
said to the other, looking at her watch, " We shall hardly
have time to dress for the wedding." " Wedding ! " said
the Queen. " Yes, Madam, it is to be at twelve." Upon
this she fainted. Lady Effingham, who had a bottle of
lavender water in her hand, threw it in her face.' The
travelling bride had, up to this time, exhibited much self-
possession and gaiet}^ of spirit throughout the journey,
and it w^as not till she came in sight of the palace tliat
her courage seemed to fail her. Then^ for the first time,
' she grew frightened and grew pale. The Duchess of
Hamilton smiled ; the princess said, " My dear duchess,
you may laugh, you have been married twice ; but it's
no joke to me." '
Walpole, writing at ' twenty minutes past three in the
afternoon, not in the middle of the night,' says : ' Madam
Charlotte is this instant arrived ; the noise of the coaches,
chaise, horsemen, mob, that have been to see her pass
through the parks, is so prodigious that I cannot dis-
tinguish the guns.'
When the royal carriage stopped at the garden-gate
the bride's lips trembled, and she looked paler than ever,
but she stepped out with spirit, assisted by the Duke of
Devonshire, lord- chamberlain. Before her stood the
King surrounded by his court. A crimson cushion was
laid for her to kneel upon, and (Mrs. Stuart tells us) mis-
taking the hideous old Duke of Grafton for him, as the
cushion inclined that way, she was very near prostrating
herself before the duke ; but the King caught her in his
arms fii'st, and all but carried her upstairs, forbidding any
one to enter.
Walpole says of her that she looked sensible, cheerful,
and remarkably genteel. He does not say she was
pretty, and it must be confessed that she was rather
plain ; too plain to create a favourable impression upon a
youthful monarch, whose heart, even if the story of the
440 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
Quakeress bo a fiction, was certainly pre-occupied by the
image of a lady, wlio, nevertheless, figured that night
among tlie bride's-maid* — namely. Lady Sarah Lennox.
' An involuntary expression of the King's countenance,'
says Mr. Gait, ' revealed what was passing within, but it
was a passing cloud — the generous feelings of the monarch
were interested ; and the tenderness with which he thence-
forward treated Queen Charlott-e was uninterrupted until
the moment of their final separation.' This probably comes
much nearer to the truth than the assertion of Lady Anne
Hamilton, who says : ' At the first siglit of the German
princess, the King actually shrunk from her gaze, for her
countenance was of that cast that too plainly told of the
nature of the spirit working within.' Lord Hardwicke is
said to have sent to his wife an unfavourable description
of the Queen's features, which Lady Hardwicke read
aloud to her friends. It is added that George III., on
hearing of it, was greatly offended.
The King, as before mentioned, led his bride into the
palace, where she dined with him, his mother the princess-
dowager, and that Princess Augusta who was to
give a future queen to England, in the person of
Caroline of Brunswick. After dinner, when the bride's-
maids and the court were introduced to her, slie said,
' Mon Dieu, il y en a tant, il y en a tant ! ' She kissed
the princesses with manifest pleasure, but was so prettily
reluctant to offer her own liand to he, kissed, that the
Princess Aufyusta, for once doin^ a ij^raceful thini? grace-
fully, Avas forced to take lier hand and give it to those who
were to kiss it, which was prettily humble and good.
This act set the Queen talking and laughing, at which
some severe critics declared that the illustrious lady's
face seemed all mouth. Northcote subsequently declared
that Queen Charlotte's plainness was not a vulgar, but an
elegant, plainness. The artist saw another grace in her.
CHARLOTTE SOPHIA. 44 1
As he looked at Eeynolds's portrait of her, fan in liand,
Northcote, remembering the sitting, exclaimed, ' Lord,
how she held that fan ! '
It is singular that although the question touching pre-
cedency, in the proper position of Irish peers on English
state occasions, had been settled in the reign of George II.,
it was renewed on the occasion of the marriage of Queen
Charlotte with increased vigour. The question, indeed,
now rather regarded the peeresses than the peers. The
Irish ladies of that rank claimed a rig-ht to walk in the
marriage procession immediately after English peeresses
of their own degree. The impudent wits of the day
declared that the Irish ladies would be out of their
vocation at weddings, and that their proper place was at
funerals, where they might professionally Jioucl. The rude
taunt was made in mere thoughtlessness, but it stirred the
high-spirited Hibernian ladies to action. They deputed
Lord Charlemont to proceed to the court of St. James's,
and not only prefer but establish their claim. The gallant
champion of dames fulfilled his office with alacrity, and
crowned it with success. The royal bride herself was
written to, but she, of course, could only express her
wiUingness to see as many fair and friendly faces about
her as possible ; and she referred the applicants to custom
and the lord-chamberlain. The reference was not favour-
able to the claimants, and Lord Charlemont boldly went
to the King himself. The good-natured young monarch
was as warm in praise of Irish beauty as if lie was about
to marry one, but he protested that he had no authority,
and that Lord Charlemont must address his claim to the
privy council. When that august body received the
ladies' advocate, they required of him to set down his
specific claim in wanting, so that the heralds, those learned
and useful gentlemen, might comprehend Avhat was
asked, and do solemn justice to rank and precedency on
442 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
this exceedingly solemn occasion. Lord Charieniont
knew nothing of the heralds' shibboleth, but he found a
friend who could and did help him in his need, in Lord
Egmont. By the two a paper was hurriedly drawn up in
proper form, and submitted to the council. The collective
wisdom of the latter pronounced the claim to be good,
and that Wsh peeresses might walk in the royal marriage
procession immediately after English peeresses of their
own rank, if invited to do so. The verdict was not
worth much, but it satisfied the claimants. If the whole
Irish peerage, the female portion of it at least, was not at
the wedding, it was fairly represented, and when Lord
Charlemont returned to Dublin, the ladies welcomed him
as cordially as the njniiphs in the bridal of Triermain did
the wandering Arthur. They showered on him flowers
of gratitude, and their dignity was well content to feel
assured that they might all have gone to the wedding if
they had only been invited.
At seven o'clock the nobility began to flock down to
the scene of the marriage in the royal chapel. The night
was sultry, but fine. At nine, and not at twelve, the
ceremony was performed by the Lord Archbishop of
Canterbury ; and perhaps the most beautiful portion of
the spectacle was that afforded by the bride's-maids,
among whom Lady Sarah Lennox, Lady Caroline
Eussel, and Lady Elizabeth Keppel were distinguished
for their pre-eminent attractions. During the whole
ceremony, it is said that the royal bridegroom's eyes
were kept fixed on Lady Sarah especially. That the
Queen could not have been so perfectly unpossessed of
attractive features as some writers have declared her, may
be gathered from a remark of Walpole's, who was present,
and who, after i)raising the beauty of the bride's-maids,
and tliat of a couple of duchei-ses, says : ' Except a pretty
Lady Sunderland, and a most perfect beauty, an Irish
CHARLOTTE SOPHIA. 443
Miss Smith, I don't think the Queen saw much else to
discourage her.' The general impression was difFerent.
What this was may be understood by a passage in a letter
addressed to Mrs. Montagu's brother, the Eev. William
Eobertson, by a friend, in October 1761: 'The Queen
seems to me to behave with equal propriety and civility ;
though the common people are quite exasperated at her
not being handsome, and the people at court laugh at her
courtesies.'
All the royal family were present at the nuptials. The
King's brother, Edward, Duke of York, was at his side ;
and this alleged witness of the King's alleged previous
marriage with Hannah Lightfoot, says Lady Anne
Hamilton, ' used every endeavour to support his royal
brother through the trying ordeal, not only by first meet-
ing the princess in her entrance into the garden, but also
at the altar.'
The Queen was in white and silver. ' An endless
mantle of violet-coloured velvet,' says Walpole, ' lined
with crimson, and which, attempted to be fastened on her
shoulder by a bunch of large pearls, dragged itself and
almost the rest of her clothes half-way down her
waist.'
After the ceremony their Majesties occupied two
state chairs on the same side of the altar, under a canopy.
The mother of the monarch occupied a similar chair of
state on the opposite side ; the other members of the
royal ftimily were seated ow. stools, while benches were
given to the foreign ministers to rest upon. At half-past
ten the proceedings came to a close, and the return of the
marriage procession from the chapel was announced by
thundering salutes from the artillery of the park and the
Tower. ' Can it be possible,' said the humble bride, ' that
I am worthy of such honoms ? '
Walpole says of the royal bride that she did nothing
444 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
but with good humour and cheerluhicss. ' She talks a
good deal,' says the same writer, ' is easy, civil, and not
disconcerted.' While tlie august company waited for
supper, she sat down, sung, and played; conversed with
the King, Duke of Cumberland, and Duke of York, in
German and French. She was reported to have been as
conversant with the last as any native, but Wal[)ole only
says of it tliat ' her Frencli is tolerable.' The supper
was in fact a banquet of great splendour and correspond-
ing weariness. ' They did not get to bed till two ;' by
which time the bride, wlio had made a weary journey
through the heat and dust, and had been awake since the
dawn, must have been sadly jaded. ' Notliing but a
German constitution,' said Mrs. Scott, ' could liave under-
gone it.' The same lady says: — 'She did not arrive in
London till tln^ee o'clock, and besides the fatigue of the
joiu'ney, with the consequences of the flutter slie could
not avoid being in, she w^as to dress for her w^edding, be
married, have a drawing-room, and undergo the ceremony
of receiving company after she and the King w^ere in
bed, and all the night after her journey and so
long a voyage.' Theie are no old fashioned nuptial cere-
monies to record and to smile at. Walpole alludes to a
civil war and campaign on the question of the bedchamber.
' Everybody is excluded but the minister ; even the lords
of tlie bedcliamber, cabinet councillors, and foreign
ministers ; but it has given such offence that I don't
know whether Lord Huntingdon nuir>t not be tlic scape-
goat,'
On the 9th of September the Queen held her first
drawing-room. ' Everybody was presented to her, but
she spoke to nol)ody, as slie could not know a soul. The
crowd was much less than at a birthday ; the uiagiiificence
very little more. The King looked very handsome, and
talked to her with great good humour. It does not
CHARLOTTE SOPHIA. 445
promise as if these two would be the two most unhappy
persons in Enghmd from this event.'
In contrast with this account of an eye-witness stands
the deposition of Lady Anne Hamilton, a passage from
whose suppressed book maybe cited rather than credited.
It reflects, however, much of the popular opinion of that
and a far later period. ' In the meantime.' writes the
lady just named, ' the Earl of Abercorn informed the
princess of the previous marriage of the King, and of the
existence of his Majesty's wife ; and Lord Hardwicke
advised the princess to well inform herself of the policy of
the kingdom, as a measure for preventing much future
disturbance in the country, as well as securing an
im interrupted possession of the throne to her issue. Pre-
suming, therefore, that the German princess had hitherto
been an open and ingenuous character, such expositions,
intimations, and dark mysteries w^ere ill-calculated to
nourish honoura1)le feelings, but would rather operate as
a check to their further existence. To the public eye the
newly married pair were contented with each other ;
alas ! it was because each feared an exposure to the
nation. The King reproached himself that he had not
fearlessly avowed the only wife of his affections ; the
Queen, because she feared an explanation that the King
was guilty of bigamy^ and thereby her claim, as also that
of her progeny (if she should have any), would be known
to be illegitimate. It appears as if tlie result of those
reflections formed a basis for the misery of millions, and
added to that number millions yet unborn.'
This probably is solemn nonsense, as it is certainly
indifferent English. We get back to comic truth, at
least, in an anecdote told by Cumberland, of Bubb
Dodington, who, ' when he paid his court at St. James's
to her Majesty, upon her nuptials, approached to kiss her
hand, decked in an embroidered suit of silk, with lilac
446 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
waistcoat and breeches, the latter of wliich, in the act of
kneehng down, forgot their duty, and broke loose from
their moorings in a very indecorous and uncourtly
manner.' As for the forsaken Ariadne, Lady Sarah
Lennox was very soon united to Sir Charles Bunbury ;
and subsequently to Colonel George Napier, by
whom she became mother of 'the Napiers', one of
whom used to speak sneeringly of George IV. as his
' cousin.' Lady Sarah's old royal lover never made any
secret of his admiration of her. The last time he was ever
at the play with Queen Charlotte, he remarked to her, of
one of the most accomplished of actresses, ' Miss Pope
is still like Lady Sarah ! '
Between the weddinjy drawinsj-room and the corona-
tion the King and Queen appeared twice in public, once
at their devotions and once at the play. On both
occasions there were crowds of followers, and some dis-
appointment. At the chapel-royal, the preacher, the
Eev. Mr. Schultz, made no allusion to the august couple,
but simply confined himself to a practical illustration of
his text, ' Provide things honest in the sight of all men.'
It was a text from the application of which a young
sovereign couple might learn much that was valuable,
without being preached at. But the crowd, who went to
stare, and not to pray, would have been better pleased to
have heard them lectured, and to have seen how they
looked under the infliction. The King had expressly
forbidden all laudation of himself from the pidpit, but
the Pev. Dr. Wilson, and Mason the poet, disobeyed
the injunction, and, getting nothing by their praise, joined
the patriotic side in politics immediately. At the play,
to which the Kiiig and Queen went on the day after
attending church, to witness Garrick, who was advertised
to play l^ayes, in the ' Rehearsal,' the King was in
roars of laughter at Garrick's comic acting ; which even
CHARLOTTE SOPHIA. 447
made the Queen smile, to whom, however, such a play as
the ' Eehearsal ' and such a part as Bayes must have been
totally incomprehensible, and defying explanation. No
royal state was displayed on this occasion, but there were
the penalties which are sometimes paid by a too eager
curiosity. The way from the palace to the theatre was
so beset by a violently loyal mob that there was difficulty
in getting the royal chairs through the unwelcome pres-
sure. The accidents were many, and some were fatal. The
young married couple did not accomplish their first party
of pleasiu^e, shared with the public, but at the expense of
three or four lives of persons trampled to death among
the crowd that had assembled to view their portion of the
sight.
The St. ' James's Chronicle' thus reports the scene which
took place on the occasion of the royal visit to Drury
Lane, on Friday, the 11th of September: 'Last night,
about a quarter after six, their Majesties the King and
Queen, with most of the royal family, went to Drury
Lane playhouse to see the " Eehearsal." Their Majesties
went in chairs, and the rest of the royal family in coaches,
attended by the horse-guards. His Majesty was pre-
ceded by the Duke of Devonshire, his lord-chamberlain,
and the Honourable Mr. Finch, his vice-chamberlain ;
and her Majesty was preceded by the Duke of Manchester,
her lord-chamberlam, and Lord Cantalupe, her vice-
chamberlain, the Earl of Harcourt, her master of the
horse, and by the Duchess of Ancaster and the Countess
of Effingham. It is almost inconceivable, the crowds of
people that waited in the streets, quite from St. James's
to the playhouse, to see their Majesties. Never was seen
so brilliant a train, the ladies being mostly dressed in the
clothes and jewels they wore at the royal marriage. The
house was quite full before the doors were open, so that
out of the vast multitude that waited the opening of the
44^ LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
doors, not a Iniiidrcd got in ; the house being previously
filled, to the great disappointment and fatigue of many
thousands ; and we may venture to say that there were
people enough to have filled fifty such houses. There
was a prodigious deal of mischief done at the doors of
the house ; several genteel women, who were imprudent
enough to attempt to get in, had their clothes, caps,
aprons, handkerchiefs, all torn off them. It is said a girl
was killed, and a man so trampled on that there are no
hopes of his recovery.'
Among the congratulatory addresses presented to the
Queen, on the occasion of her marriage, there was none
which caused so much remark as that presented by the
ladies of St. Albans. They complained that custom had
deprived them of the pleasure of joining in the address
presented by the gentlemen of the borough, and that
they were therefore compelled to act independently.
They profited by the occasion to express a hope that the
example set by the King and Queen would be speedily
and widely followed. The holy state of matrimony, the
St. Albans ladies assured her Majesty, had fallen so low
as to be sneered at and disregarded by gentlemen. They
further declared that if the best riches of a nation con-
sisted in the amount of population, they were the best
citizens wlio did their utmost to increase that amount : to
further which end the ladies of St. Albans expressed a
loyal degree of willingness, with sundry logical reasonings
which made even the grave Charlotte smile.
It is imnecessary perhaps to enter detailedly u})on the
programme of the royal coronation. All coronations very
much resemble each other ; they only vary in some of
their incidents. That of George and Charlotte had well-
nigh been delayed l)y the sudden and unexpected strike
of the workmen at Westminster Hall. These handi-
craftsmen had been accustomed to take toll of the public
CHARLOTTE SOPHIA. 449
admitted to see the preparations ; but soldiers on guard,
])erceiving the profit to be derived from such a course,
allowed no one to enter at all but after payment of an
admission fee sufficiently large to gratify tlieir cupidity.
The plunderers of the public thereupon fell out, and the
workmen struck because they had been deprived of an
opportunity of robbing curious citizens. The dispute was
settled by a compromise ; an increase of wages was made
to the workmen, and the military continued to levy with
great success upon the purses of civilians, as before.
Nothing further remained to impede the completion
of the preparations for the spectacle ; but by another
strike, a portion, at least, of the public ran the risk of not
seeing the spectacle at all The chairmen and drivers of
hired vehicles had talked so largely of their scale of prices
for the Coronation Day, that the authorities threatened to
interfere and estabhsh a tariff; whereupon the chairmen
and their brethren solemnly announced that not a hired
vehicle of any description should ply in the streets at all
on the day in question ; and that if there were a sight
worth seeing, the full-dressed public might get to it how
they could : they should not ride to it. Thereupon, great
was the despair of a very large and interested class.
Appeals, almost affectionate in expression, were made to
the offended chairmen who led the revolt, and they were
entreated to trust to the generous feelings of their patrons,
willing to be their very humble servants, for one day.
The amiable creatures at last yielded, when it was per-
fectly understood that the liberal sentiment of riders was
to be computed at the rate of a guinea for a ride from
the West-end to the point nearest the Abbey which the
chairmen could reach. Not many could penetrate beyond
Charing Cross, where the bewildered fares were set down
amid the mob and the mud, to work tlieir way through
both as best they might.
VOL. I. G G
450 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
One class of extortionate robbers only succeeded in
making unwarrantable gain without interference on the
part of the authorities, or appeal on that of the public.
The class in question consisted of the Dean and Chapter
of Westminster, who exacted five guineas a foot as the
rent or hire of the space for the erection of scaffolding
for seats. This caused the tariff of places to be of so
costly a nature, that, willing as the public were to pay
liberally for a great show, the seats were but scantily
occupied.
The popular eagerness which existed, especially to see
the young Queen, was well illustrated in the person of a
married lady, for whom not only was a front room taken,
from the window of which she might see the procession
pass, but a bedroom also engaged, and a medical man in
attendance ; the lady's condition of health rendering it
probable that botli might be required before the spectacle
had concluded.
Much had been said of the Queen's beauty, but to
that her Majesty had really little pretension. The pubhc
near enough to distinguish her features were tlie more
disappointed, from the fact that the portrait of a very
pretty woman had been in all the print-shops as a like-
ness of the young Queen. The publislier, however, had
selected an old engraving of a young beauty, and erasing
the name on the plate, issued the portrait as that of the
royal consort of his Majesty George III. Many were
indignant at the trick, but few were more amused by it
tliaii lier Majesty herself
As illustrative of the crowds assembled, even on places
whence but little could be seen, it may be mentioned that
the assemblage on Westminster Bridge (which was no
' coign of vantage,' for the platform on which the pro-
cession passed could hardly be discovered from it) was so
Immense as to give rise to a report, which long prevailed,
CHARLOTTE SOPHIA. 451
that the structure of the bridge itself had been injured by
this superincambent dead weight.
The multitude was enthusiastic enough, but it was not
a kindly endowed multitude. The mob was ferocious in
its joys in those days. Of the lives lost, one at least was
so lost by a murderous act of the populace. A respect-
able man in the throng dropped some papers, and he
stooped to recover them from the ground. The con-
temporary recorders of the events of the day detail,
without comment, how the mob held this unfortunate
man forcibly down till they had trampled him to death !
The people must have their little amusements.
It was, perhaps, hardly the fault of the people that
these amusements were so savage in character. The
people themselves were treated as savages. Even on this
day of universal jubilee they were treated as if the great
occasion were foreign to them and to their feelings ; and
a press-gang, strong enough to defy attack, was not the
least remarkable group which appeared this day among
the free Britons over whom George and Charlotte ex-
pressed themselves proud to reign. Such a ' gang ' did
not do its work in a delicate way, and a score or two of
loyal and tipsy people, who had joyously left their homes
to make a day of it, found themselves at night, battered
and bleeding, on board a ' Tender,' torn fi"om their
families, and condemned to ' serve the King ' upon the
high seas.
The interior of the Abbey displayed, so says the
' St. James's Chronicle,' the iinest exhibition of genteel
people that the world ever saw. That was satisfactory.
The Countess of Northampton carried three hundred
thousand pounds' worth of diamonds upon her, and other
ladies dropped rubies and other precious stones from
their dresses in quantity sufficient to have made the
fortune of any single finder. The day, too, did not pass
a G 2
452 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
-without its ominous aspect. As tlie King was moving
Avitli the crown on his head, the great diamond in tlie
upper portion of it fell to the ground, and was not found
again without some trouble.
Perhaps the prettiest, though not the most gorgeous
portion of the show, was the })rocession of the Princess-
dowager of Wales from the House of Lords to the
Abbey. The King's mother was led by the hand of her
young son, William Henry. These and all the other
persons in this picturesque group were attired in dresses
of white and silver; and the spectators had the good
sense to admire the corresponding good taste. The
princess wore a short silk train, and was consequently
relieved from the nuisance of being pulled back by train-
bearers. Her long hair flowed over her shoulders in
hanging curls, and the only ornament upon her head
w^as a simple wreath of diamonds. She was the best
dressed and perhaps not the least happy of the persons
present.
The usual ceremonies followed. The Westminster
boys sang ' Vivat Regina ' on the entry of the Queen into
the Abbey, and ' Vivat Rex ' as soon as the King appeared.
The illustrious couple engaged for a time in private devo-
tions, were presented to the people, and the divine blessing
having been invoked upon them, they sat to hear a sermon
of just a quarter of an hour in lengtli, from Drummond,
Bishop of Salisbury. The text was sermon in itself. It
Avas from 1 Kings, x. 9 : 'Because the Lord loved Israel
for ever, therefore made he thee king, to do judgment
and justice' The episcopal comment was not a bad one;
but when the prelate talked, as he did, of our constitution
being founded upon llic ])viiiciples of purity and freedom,
and justly poised between tlie extremes of power and
liberty, his sentiment was but poorly illustrated by the
presence of that press-gang without, with whom was much
CHARLOTTE SOPHIA. 453
power over a people who, in such a presence, enjoyed no
liberty.
Seeker, Archbishop of Canterbury, placed the crowns
on the heads of the Sovereigns, and did not get kissed in
return, as was formerly the custom, at least on the part of
a newly crowned king. But perhaps the prettiest incident
took place when the King was about to partake, with the
Queen, of the Sacrament. He desired that he might first
put aside his crown, and appear humbly at the table of
the Lord. There was no precedent for such a case, and
all the prelates present w^ere somewhat puzzled, lest they
might commit themselves. Ultimately, and wisely, they
expressed an opinion that, despite the lack of authorising
precedent, the King's wishes might be complied with. A
similar wish was expressed by Queen Charlotte ; but this
could not so readily be fulfilled. It was found that the
little crown fixed on the Queen's head was so fastened, to
keep it from falling, that there would be some trouble in
getting it off without the assistance of the Queen's dressers.
This was dispensed w^ith, and the crown was worn by the
Queen ; but the King declared that in this case it was to
be considered simply as part of her dress, and not as in-
dicating any power or greatness residing in a person
humbly kneeling in the presence of God.
The remainder of the ceremonial was long and tedious,
and it was quite dusk before the procession retiurned to the
Hall. In the meantime, the champion's horse was champ-
ing his bit with great impatience, as became a horse of
his dignity. This gallant grey charger was no other tlian
that wliich bore the sacred majesty of George II. through
the dangers of the great and bloody day at Dettingen. The
veteran steed was now to be the leader in the equestrian
spectacle at the banquet of that monarch's successor.
Although there was ample time for the completion of
everything necessary to the coronation of George and
454 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
Charlotte, the earl-marshal forgot some very indispensable
items; among others, the sword of state, the state-banquet
chairs for the King and Queen, and the canopy. It was
lucky that tlie crown had not been forgotten too. As it
was, they had to borrow the ceremonial sword of the
Lord Mayor, and workmen built a conopy amid tlie
scenic splendours of Westminster Hall. These mistakes'
delayed the procession till noon.
It was dark when the procession returned to the Hall ;
and as the illuminating of the latter was deferred till the
King and Queen had taken their places, the cortege had
very much the appearance of a funeral procession, nothing
being discernible but the plumes of the Knights of the Bath,
which seemed the hearse. There were less dignified inci-
dents than these in the course of the day's proceedings ; the
least dignified was an awkward rencounter between the
Queen herself and the Duke of Newcastle, behind the scenes.
Walpole says that ' some of the procession were dressed
over night, slept in arm chairs, and were waked if they
tumbled on their heads.' Noticing some of the ladies
present, the same writer adds : ' I carried my Lady
Townshend, Lady Hertford, Lady Anne Conolly, my
-Lady Hervey, and Mrs. Chve to my deputy's house at
the gate of Westminster Hall. My Lady Townshend said
she should be very glad to see a coronation, as she never
had seen one. " Why," said I, " madam, you walked at
the last." "Yes, child," said she, " but I saw nothing of
it. I only looked to see who looked at me." The
Duchess of Queensberry Avalked ; her affectation that
day was to do nothing preposterous. Lord Chesterfield
-was not present either in Abbey or Hall ; for, as he said
of the ceremony, he was " not alive enough to march,
nor dead enough to walk at it." '
The scene in the banrpicting-hall is further described
by Grey and also by Walpole. iiW-Qj says of the scene in
CHARLOTTE SOPHIA. 455
Westminster Hall : ' The instant the Queen's canopy en-
tered fire was given to all the lustres at once by trains of
prepared flax that reached from one to the other. To
me it seemed an interval of not half a minute before the
whole was in ablaze of splendour. . . . and the most
magnificent spectacle ever beheld remained. The King,
bowing to the lords as he passed, with his crown on his
head and tlie sceptre and orb in his hands, took his place
with great majesty and grace. So did the Queen, with
her crown, sceptre, and rod. Then supper was served
on gold plate. The Earl Talbot, Duke of Bedford, and
Earl of Effingham, in their robes, all three on horseback,
prancing and curvetting hke the hobby-horses in the
" Rehearsal," ushered in the courses to the foot of the
liautpas. Between the courses the champion performed
his part with applause.' 'AH the wines of Bordeaux,'
Walpole writes to George Montagu, ' and all the fumes of
Irish brains cannot make a town so drunk as a royal
wedding and a coronation. I am going to let London
cool, and wall not venture into it again this fortnight.
Oh, the buzz, the prattle, the crowds, the noise, the hurry!
Nay, people are so httle come to their senses, that, though
the coronation Avas but the day before yesterday, the
Duke of Devonshire had forty messages j^esterday, desiring
admissions for a ball that they fancied was to be at court
last night. People had sat up a night and a day, and yet
wanted to see a dance ! If I was to entitle ages, I would
call this " the century of croicds." For the coronation, if
a puppet-show could be worth a million, that is. The
multitudes, balconies, guards, and processions made
Palace Yard the liveliest spectacle in the world: the ball
was most glorious. The blaze of hghts, the richness and
variety of habits, the ceremonial, the bunches of peers
and peeresses, frequent and full, were as awful as a
pageant can be ; and yet, for tlie King's sake and my
45<^ LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
own, I never wish to see anotlier ; nor nm impatient to
have my Lord Effingham's promise fulfilled. The King
complained that so few precedents were kept of their
proceedings. Lord Effingham vowed the earl-marshal's
office had been strangely neglected, but he had taken
such care for the future that the next coronation would
be regulated in the most exact manner imaginable. The
number of peers and peeresses present was not very
great ; some of the latter, with no excuse in the Avorld,
appeared in Lord Lincoln's gallery, and even walked
about the hall indecently in the intervals of the proces-
sion. My Lady Harrington, covered with all the diamonds
she could borrow, hire, or seize, and with the air of Eoxana,
was the finest figure at a distance. She complained to
George Selwyn that she was to walk with Lady Ports-
mouth, who would have a wig and a stick. " Pho !" said
he, " you will only look as if you were taken up by the
constable." She told this everywhere, thinking that the
reflection was on my Lady Portsmouth ! Lady Pembroke
alone, at the head of the countesses, Avas the })icture of
majestic modesty. The Duchess of Eichmond as pretty as
nature and dress, with no pains of her own, could make
her. Lady Spencer, Lady Sutherland, and Lady North-
ampton, very pretty figures. Lady Kildare, still beauty
itself, if not a little too large. The ancient peeresses were
by no means the worst party. Lady Westmoreland still
handsome, and with more dignity than all. The Duchess of
Queensbcrry looked well, though her locks are milk-white.
Lady Albemarle very genteel ; nay, the middle age had
some good rei)resentatives in Lady Holdernesse, Lady
Eochford, and Lady Strafford, the perfectest little figure
of all. My Lady Suffolk ordered her robes, and I dressed
])art of her head, as I made some of my Lord Hertford's
dress, for you know no profession comes amiss to me,
from a tribune of the peo])le to a habit-maker. Do not
CHARLOTTE SOPHIA. 457
imagine that tliero were not figures as excellent on tlie
other side. Old Exeter, who told the King he was the
handsomest man she ever saw ; old Effingham, and Lady
Say and Sele, with her hair powdered and her tresses black,
were an excellent contrast to the handsome. Lord B.
put on rouge upon his wife and the Duel] ess of Bedford
in the Painted Chamber ; the Duchess of Queensberry
told me of the latter, that she looked like an orange
peach, half red and half yellow. The coronets of the
peers and their robes disguised them strangely. It re-
quired all the beauty of the Dukes of Eichraond and
Marlborough to make them noticed. One there was,
though of another species, the noblest figure I ever saw,
the hicfh constable of Scotland, Lord Errol : as one saw
him in a space capable of containing him, one admired
him. At the wedding, dressed in tissue, he looked like
one of the giants at Guildhall, new gilt. It added to
the energy of his person that one considered him as
acting so considerable a part in that very hall where a
few years ago one saw his father. Lord Kilmarnock, con-
demned to the block. The champion acted his part
admirably, and dashed down his gauntlet with proud
defiance. His associates, Lord Effingham, Lord Talbot,
and the Duke of Bedford, were woeful. Lord Talbot
piqued himself on backing his horse down the Hall, and
not turning its rump towards the King ; but he had
taken such pains to dress it to that duty that it entered
backwards ; and at his retreat, the spectators clapped — a
terrible indecorum, but suitable to such Bartholomew
Fair doings. He had twenty cUmeles^ and came off none
creditably. He had taken away the table of the Knights
of the Bath, and was forced to admit two in their old
place, and dine the other at the Court of Eequests. Sir
William Stanhope said, " We are ill-treated, for some of us
are gejitlemen." Beckford told the earl it was hard to
45 8 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
refuse a table to the City of London, whom it would cost
ten tliousand pounds to banquet the King, and that his
lordship would repent it if they had not a table in the
hall; they had. To the barons of the Cinque Ports, who
made the same complaint, he said, " If you come to me
as lord-steward, I tell you it is impossible ; if as Lord
Talbot, I am a match for any of you ;" and then he said
to Lord Bute, " If I were a minister, thus would I talk to
France, to Spain, to the Dutch ; none of your half-
measures." '
With all the solemnity, there was some riot. A pas-
sage from a letter written by one James Heming (quoted
in ' Notes and Queries,' 2nd S., V. IL,p. 109) says : ' Our
friend Harry, who was upon the scaffold at the return of
the procession, closed in with the rear ; at the expense of
half a guinea was admitted into the Hall ; got brimfid of his
Majesty's claret, and in the universal plunder, brought off
the glass her Majesty drank in, which is placed in the beaufet
as a valuable curiosity.' There was long a tradition current,
that among the spectators at the great ceremony in the
Hall was no less a person than the Young Pretender, who
was said to have been there incognito^ and not without
some hope of seeing the gauntlet, defiantly thrown down
by the champion, taken up by some bold adherent of his
cause. Indeed, it is further reported that preparation
had been made for such an attempt, but that (fortunately)
it accidentally failed. The Pretender, so runs the legend,
was recognised by a nobleman, Avho, standing near hhn,
whispered in his ear that he was the last person any-
body would expect to find there. ' I am here simply
out of curiosity,' was the answer of the wanderer ; ' but
I assure you that the man who is tlie object of all this
pom}) and magnificence is the person in the world whom
I least envy.' To complete the chain of reports, it
may be further noticed that Charles Edward was said to
CHARLOTTE SOPHIA. 459
have abjured Eomanism, iii the new churcli in the Strand,
in the j^ear 1754.
The night after tlie coronation there was an unusually
grand ball at court. The Queen's bride's-maids danced in
the white bodiced coats they had worn at the wedding.
The Duke of Ancaster was resplendent in the dress which
the King had worn the whole of the day before at the
coronation, and which he had graciously ordered to be
presented to the duke, whose wife was the Queen's mistress
of the robes! The King and Queen retired at eleven
o'clock ; not an early hour for the period.
There was great gaiety in town generally at this
period. The young Queen announced that she would
attend the opera once a week — that seemed dissipation
enough for her, who had been educated with some strict-
ness in the quietest and smallest of German courts. The
weekly attendance of royalty is thus commented upon by
Walpole : 'It is a fresh disaster to our box, where we
have lived so harmoniously for three years. We can get
no alternative but that over Miss Chudleigh's ; and Lord
Strafford and Lady Mary Coke will not subscribe unless
we can. The Duke of Devonshire and I are negotiatiug
with all our art to keep our party together. The crowds
at the opera and play when the King and Queen go are
a little greater than what I remember. The late royalties
went to the Haymarket when it was the fashion to fre-
quent the other opera in Lincoln's-Inn-Fields. Lord
Chesterfield one night came into the latter, and was asked
if he had been at the other house? "Yes," said he,
" but there was nobody but the King and Queen; and as
I thought they might be talking business, I came away.'"
The theatres, of course, adopted the usual foshion of
reproducing the ceremony of the coronation on the stage.
Garrick, considering that he was a man of taste, displayed
great tastelcssness hi his conduct on this occasion. After
460 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
' Henry VIII.,' in which Bensley played tlic King,
Havard acted Wolsey, and Yates — wliat was so long
plaj^ed as a comic part — Gardiner, and in which Mrs.
Pritchard played the Queen, and Mrs. Yates Anne Boleyn,
a strange representation of the ceremonial was presented
to the public. Garrick, it is said, knowing that Eicli
would spare no expense in producing the spectacle at the
other house, and fearing the cost of competition with a
man tlian whom the stage never again saw one so clever
in getting up scenic effects till it possessed Farley, con-
tented himself Avith the old, mean, and dirty dresses
which had fiijured in the sta"-e coronation of Georw 11.
and Caroline. The most curious incident of Garrick's
show was, that by throwing down the wall behind the
stage, he really opened the latter into Drury Lane itself,
where a monster bonfire was burnino; and a mob huzzainfj
about it. Tiie police authorities did not interfere, and
the absurd representation was continued for six or seven
weeks, ' till the indignation of the public,' says Davis, ' put
a stop to it, to the great comfort of the performers, who
walked in the procession, and who were seized wnth colds,
rheumatism, and swelled faces, from the suffocation of
the smoke and the raw air from the open street.' Their
Majesties did not witness the representation of the corona-
tion at either house. Their first visit was paid to Drury
Lane, when the Queen commanded the piece to be
played, and her selection was one that had some wit in
it. The j^oung bride chose, ' Eule a Wife and have a Wife.'
The royal visit took place on the 26th of November.
At Covent Garden ' Henry the Fifth,' with the corona-
tion, was acted twenty- six times ; and ' Eichard the
Third,' witli tlie same pageant, was played fourteen times.
Tliat exquisite hussey, Mrs. Bellamy, walked in the ])ro-
cession as the representative of the Queen. Their
Majesties paid their first visit in state, on the 7th of January
CHARLOTTE SOPHIA. 4^1
1762. The ICing, witli some recollection, probably, of
his consort's ' bespeak ' at Drury Lane, commanded the
' Merry Wives of Windsor,' So that in this respect the
new reign commenced merrily enough. It had its hons
mots. When some persons expressed surprise at the
Queen liaving named Lady Northumberland one of the
ladies of her bedchamber, Lady Townshend said, ' Quite
right ! the Queen knows no Englisli. Lady Northuml^er-
land will teach her the vul^iar toncfue ! '
462 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
CHAPTER 11.
COURT AND CITY.
The lewe — The King goes to parliament — The first night of the opera —
Garrick grievously offended — The King and Queen present on the Lord
Mayor's Day — Entertained by Robert Barclay, the Quaker — Banquet at
Guildhall to the King and Queen — Popular enthusiasm for Mr. Pitt —
Buckingham House purchased by the King for Queen Charlotte — Defoe's
account of it — The Duke of Buckingham's description of it — West and
his pictures — The house demolished by George IV. — First illness of
the King— Domestic life of the King and Queen — Royal carriage — •
Selwyn's joke on the royal frugality — Prince Charles of Strelitz —
Costume — Graceful action of the Queen — Birth of Prince George.
The entire population seemed surprised at having got
a young Queen and King to reign over tliera ; and, except
an occasional placard or two, denouncing ' petticoat
government,' and pronouncing against Scotch ministers
and Lord George Sackville, there seemed no dissatisfied
voice in the whole metropolis. The graces of the young
Sovereign were sung by pseudo-poets, and Walpole, in
graceful prose, told of his surprise at seeing how com-
pletely the w4iole levee-YOQVi\ had lost its air of a lion's
den. ' The Sovereign don't stand in one spot, with his
eyes fixed royally on the ground, and dropping bits of
German news : he walks about and speaks to everybody.
I saw him afterwards on the throne, where he is graceful
and genteel ; sits with dignity, and reads his answers to
addresses well. It was the Cambridge address, carried
by the Duke of Newcastle, in his doctor's gown, and
looking like the Mklecin mahjre. lui. He had been
vehemently solicitous for atteiidauce, for fear my Lord
CHARLOTTE SOPHIA. 4^3
Westmoreland, who vouchsafes himself to bring the address
from Oxford, should out-number him. Lord Litchfield
and several other Jacobites have kissed hands. George
Selwyn says, " They go to St. James's because now there
are so many Stuarts there." '
In allusion to the crowds of nobles, gentle and simple,
going up to congratulate the King, or to view the pro-
cessions flocking to the foot of the throne, or surrounding
the King, as it were, when he went to the first parliament,
Walpole remarks : ' The day the King went to the house
I was three quarters of an hour getting through White-
hall. There were subjects enough to set up half a dozen
petty kings : the Pretender would be proud to reign over
the footmen only ; and, indeed, unless he acquires some of
them, he will have no subjects left ; all their masters flock
to St. James's.' Li a few words he describes the scene at
the theatre on the King's first visit, alone. ' The first
night the King went to the play, which was civilly on a
Friday, not on the opera night, as he used to do, the
whole audience sang God save the King in chorus. For
the first act the press was so great at the door that no
ladies could go to the boxes, and only the servants ap-
peared there, who kept places. At the end of the second
act the whole mob broke in and seated themselves.' The
play was ' Eichard the Third,' in which Garrick repre-
sented the king. George III. repeated his visit on the
23rd of December to see 'King John.'
His Majesty grievously offended Garrick on this night,
by a manifestation of what the latter considered very bad
taste. The King preferred Sheridan in Faulconbridge to
Garrick in King John ; and when this reached the ears of
Garrick, he was excessively hurt ; and, though the boxes
were taken for ' King John,' for several nights, the
offended ' Eoscius ' would not allow tlie play to have its
proper run.
4^4 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
But there were other stages, on which more solemn
pageants had to be performed. The Sovereigns liad yet
to make their first appearance within the city liberties.
The Queen was introduced to the citizens of London
on Lord Mayor's Day ; on which occasion they may be
said emphatically to have ' made a day of it.' They left
St, James's Palace at noon, and in great state, accompanied
by all the royal family, escorted by guards, and cheered
by the people, whose particular holiday was thus shared
in common. There was the usual ceremony at Temple
Bar of opening the gates to royalty and giving it welcome ;
and there was the once usual address made at tlie east
end of St. Paul's Churchyard, by the senior scholar of
Christ's Hospital School. Having survived the cumbrous
formalities of the first, and smiled at the flowery figures
of the second, the royal party proceeded on their way,
not to Guildhall, but to the house of Mr. Barclay, the
patent-medicine-vendor, an honest Quaker whom the
King respected, and ancestor to the head of the firm
whose name is not unmusical to Volscian ears — Barclay,
Perkins, and Co.
Eobert Barclay, the only surviving son of the author
of the same name, who wrote the celebrated ' Apology
for the Quakers,' was an octogenarian, who had enter-
tained, in the same house, two Georges before he had
given welcome to the third George and his Queen
Cliarlotte. The hearty old man, Avithout abandoning
Quaker simplicity, went a little beyond it, in order to do
honour to the young Queen ; and he hung his balcony
and rooms with a brilliant crimson damask, that must
liave scattered blushes on all who stood near — particu-
larly on tlie clieeks of the crowds of 'Friends' who hnd
assembled within the house to do honour to tlieir Sove-
reigns. How the King — and lie was at tlie time a very
handsome young monarch — fluttered all the female Friends
CHARLOTTE SOPHIA. 465
present, and set their tuckers in agitation, may be guessed
from the fact that he kissed them all round, and right
happy were tliey to be so greeted. The Queen smiled
with dignity, her consort laughed and clapped his hands,
and when they had passed into another room, the King's
young brothers followed the example, and in a minute
had all the young Quakeresses in their arms — nothing
loath. Those were unceremonious days, and ' a kiss all
round ' was a pleasant solemnity, which was undergone
with alnrcity even by a Quakeress.
In the apartment to which the King and Queen had
retired the latter was waited on by a youthful grand-
daughter of Mi\ Barclay, who kissed the royal hand with
much grace, but would not kneel to do so, a resolute
observance of consistent principle which made the young
Queen smile. Later in the day, when Mr. Barclay's
daughters served the Queen with tea, they handed it
to the ladies-in-waiting, who presented it kneehng to
their Sovereign — a form which Eachel and Eebecca
would never have submitted to. From the windows of
this house, which was exactly opposite Bow Church, the
Queen and consort witnessed the Lord Mayor's procession
pass on its way to Westminster, and had the patience to
wait for its return.
The Princess of Wales was a spectator of the show on
this occasion, with her son, King George, and her daughter-
in-law. Queen Charlotte. Her husband, Frederick, Prince
of Wales, once stood among the crowd in Cheapside to
view the return of the Mayor's procession to Guildhall.
He was recognised by some members of the Saddlers
Company, by whom he was invited into their ' stand,'
erected in the street. He accepted their invitation, and
made himself so agreeable that the company unanimously
elected him their ' Master,' an office which he accepted
with great readiness.
VOL. I. H H
466 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
Queen Charlotte and George III. were tlie last of our
sovereigns who thus honoured a Lord Mayor's Sliow.
And as it ima the last o(?casion, and that tlie young Queen
Charlotte was the heroine of the day, the opportunity may
be profited by, to show how that royal lady looked and
bore herself in the estimation of one of the Miss Barclays,
whose letter descriptive of tlie scene appeared forty-seven
years subsequently, in 1808. 'About one o'clock papa
and mamma, with sister Western to attend tliem, took
their stand at the street-door, where my two brothei"^
had long been to receive the nobiUty, more than a hun-
dred of whom were then waiting in the warehouse. As
the royal family came, they were conducted into one of
the counting-houses, which was transformed into a very
pretty parlour. At half-past two their Majesties came,
which was two hours later tlian they intended. On the
second pair of stairs was placed our own company, about
forty in number, the chief of whom were of the Puritan
order,and all intheir orthodox habits. Next tothedrawing-
room doors were placed our own selves — I mean papa's
children, none else, to the great mortification of visitors,
being allowed to enter ; for, as kissing the King's hand
without kneeling was an unexampled honour, the King
confined that privilege to oin- own family, as a return for
the trouble we had been at. After the royal pair had
shown themselves at the balcony, we were all introduced,
and you may believe, at that juncture, we felt no small
palpitations. The King met us at the door (a conde-
scension I did not expect), at which place he saluted us
with great politeness. Advancing to the upper end of the
room, we kissed tlie Queen's hand, at the sight of whom
we were all in raptures, not only from the brilliancy of
her appearance, which was pleasing beyond description,
but being throughout her whole person possessed of tliat
inexpressible something that is beyond a set of features.
CHARLOTTE SOPHIA. 4^7
and equally claims our attention. To be sure she has not
a fine face, but a most agreeable countenance, and is
vastly genteel, with an air, notwithstanding her being a
little woman, truly majestic ; and I really think, by her
manner is expressed that complacency of disposition
which is truly amiable ; and though I could never per-
ceive that she deviated from that dignity which belongs
to a crowned head, yet on the most trifling occasions she
displayed all that easy behaviour that negligence can
bestow. Her hair, which is of a light colour, hung in
what is called coronation-ringlets, encircled in a band
of diamonds, so beautiful in themselves, and so prettily
disposed, as will admit of no description. Her clothes,
which were as rich as gold, silver, and silk could make
them, was a suit from which fell a train supported by a
little page in scarlet and silver. The lustre of her
stomacher was inconceivable. The King I think a very
personable man. All the princes followed the King's
example in complimenting each of us with a kiss. The
Queen was upstairs three times, and my little darling, with
Patty Barclay and Priscilla Ball, were introduced to her.
I was present and not a little anxious on account of my
girl, who kissed the Queen's hand with so much grace
that I thought the princess-dowager would have
smothered her with kisses. Such a report was made of
her to the King, that Miss was sent for, and afforded him
great anuisement, by saying ' that she loved the King,
though she must not love fine things, and lier grandpapa
would not allow her to make a curtsy.' Her sweet face
made such an impression on the Duke of York, that I
rejoiced she was only five instead of fifteen. When he
first met her, he tried to persuade Miss to let him intro-
duce her to the Queen ; but she would by no means
consent till I informed her he was a prince, upon which
her little female heart relented, and she gave him her
H H 2
468 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
liand - a true copy of the sex. The Kiug never sat down,
nor did he taste aiiytliiug during the whole time. Her
Majesty drank tea, which was brought lier on a silver
waiter by brother John, who delivered it to the lady in-
waiting, and she presented it kneeling. The leave they
took of us was such as we might expect from our equals ;
full of apologies for our trouble for their entertainment —
which they were so anxious to have explained, that the
Queen came up to us, as we stood on one side of the
door, and had every word interpreted. My brothers had
the honour of assisting the Queen into her coach. Some
of us sat up to see them return, and the King and Queen
took especial notice of us as they passed. The King ordered
twenty-four of his guard to be placed opposite our door
all night, lest any of the canopy should })e j)ulled down
by the mob, in which there were one hundred yards of
silk damask.'
Go2 and Maorog have never looked down on so fflo-
rious a scene and so splendid a banquet as enlivened
Guildhall, at which the Queen and her consort were
royally entertained, at a cost approaching 8000/. Both
Sovereigns united in remarking that ' for elegance of
entertainment the city beat the court end of the town.'
A foreign minister present described it as a banquet such
only as one king could give another. And it was pre-
cisely so. The King of the City exhibited his boundless
hospitality to tlie Khig of England. The majesty of the
people had the chief magistrate for a guest.
The majesty of the people, however, if we may credit
the Earl of Albemarle, the author of the 'Memoir of
the Marquis of Eockingham and liis Contemporaries,' was
by no means so civil to the royal guests as the occasion
warranted.
On tlie 0th of November, George III., who had been
married only two months, went in state with his youtliful
CHARLOTTE SOPHIA, 469
Queen, to dine witli the Lord Mayor. It was their
Majesties' first visit to the city. Mr. Pitt, yielding to
Lord Temple's persuasions, and, as he afterwards declared,
' against his better judgment,' went with him in his
carriage, and joined the procession. Pitt, the ' great
commoner,' the terrible ' Cornet of Horse,' hated and
dreaded by Sir Robert Walpole, had only just resigned
office, because he could not get his colleagues to agree
witli him in an aggressive policy against Spain, to be at
war with wliich power was tlien a passion with the
people. For this reason Pitt was their idol and the
court party their abomination. Hence, the result of
Pitt's joining the procession might partly have been
anticipated. The royal bride and bridegroom were re-
ceived by the populace with indifference, and Pitt's late
colleague with cries of ' No Newcastle salmon ! ' As for
Lord Bute, he was everywhere assailed with hisses and
execrations, and would probably have been torn in
pieces by the mob, but for the interference of a band of
butchers and prize-fighters, whom he had armed as a
body-guard. All the enthusiasm of the populace was
centred in Mr. Pitt, who was ' honoured ^ with the most
hearty acclamations of people of all ranks ; and so great
was the feeling in his favour, that the mob clung about
every part of the vehicle, hung upon the wheels, hugged
his footman, and even kissed his horses.'
The royal bride must have been astonished, and the
bridegroom was indignant at what, a few days after the
banquet, he called ' the abominable conduct of Mr. Pitt.'
The court members of parliament were directed to be
personally offensive to him in tlie house, and all the
fashionable ladies in town went to see the noble animal
baited.
The year of pageants ended with matters of money.
Parliament settled on Queen Charlotte 40,000/. per
' • Gentleman's Magazine.'
470 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
annum, to enable her the better to support the royal
dignity; with a dowry of 100,000/. per annum, and
Eichmond Old Park and Somerset House annexed, in
case she should survive his Majesty. On the 2nd of
December the King went in state to the House to give
the royal assent to the bill. The Queen accompanied
him ; and when the royal assent had been given, her
Majesty rose from hei' seat and curtsied to him the grate-
ful acknowledgments which were really due to the repre-
sentatives of the people w^ho gave the money.
Somerset House was but an indifferent town residence
for either Queen or queen -dowager, and the King
showed his taste and gratified Queen Charlotte when, in
lieu of the above-named residence, he purchased for her
that red-brick mansion which stood on the site of
the present Buckingham Palace, and was then known as
' Buckingham House.' It was subsequently called the
' Queen's House.' The King bought it of Sir Charles
Sheffield for 21,000/., and settled it on his consort by
an act of parliament obtained some years afterwards.
Therein were all the children born, with the exception
of their eldest son, George, Pi-ince of Wales, who was
born at St. James's Palace ; who demolished the old
liouse in 1825, and erected on its site one of the ugliest
palaces by which the sight was ever offended. Queen
Victoria has had some didicidty to make it a comfortable
residence ; to render it beautiful was out of the power
even of her Majesty's architect, Mr. Blore. Tlie edifice of
his predecessor, Nash, defied all his efforts.
In Queen Charlotte's time Mr. Wyatt erected a grand
staircase. West's pictures soon filled the great gallery,
and that artist at least would not complain, as so many
others did, that the Queen and King were mean patrons
of art, seeing that the latter, to gratify his consort, paid
West no less than 40,000/. for his labours. The j)rin-
CHARLOTTE SOPHIA. 471
cipal of these pictures are now at Hampton Court. The
'Eegukis' brouglit West a very Hberal pension. The
dining-room was adorned with pictures by Zucchero,
Vandyke, Lely, Zoffani, My tens, and Houseman. The
Queen's house, although intended as a simple asylum for
its royal owners from the oppressive gorgeousness and
ceremony of St. James's, did not lack a splendour of its
own. The crimson drawing-room, the second drawing-
room, and the blue-velvet room, were magnificent apart-
ments, adapted for the most showy of royal ])ageants,
and adorned with valuable pictures. Queen Charlotte
had hardly been installed in this her own ' House,' when
her husband commenced the formation of that invaluable
library which her son, on demolishing her house, made
over to the nation, and is now in the British Museum.
The sou just alluded to was George IV. Under the
pretence of being about to repair Buckingham House, he
applied to the Commons to afford the necessary supplies.
These were granted under the special stipulation that
repairs (and not rebuilding) were intended. The King
and his architect, JSTash, however, went on demolishing
and reconstructing until the fine old mansion disappeared,
and a hideous palace took its place, at a tremendous cost
to the public. Neither of the children of Charlotte who
lived to ascend the throne resided in this palace. The
old building was the property of a queen-consort, the
new one was fii'st occupied by a Queen-regnant, the
daughter of Charlotte's third son, Edward. The first
great event in Queen Charlotte's life, after she became
mistress of Buckingham House, was her becoming the
mother of him v/ho destroyed it — George Augustus
Frederick, Prince of Wales.
In 1762 Horace Walpole says : ' The King and Queen
are settled for good and all at Buckingham House, and
are stripping the other palaces to furnish it. In short,
472 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
they have already fetched pictures from Hampton Court,
wliich indicates their never hving there ; consequently
Strawberry Hill will remain in possession of its own tran-
quillity, and not become a cheese-cake house to the
palace. All I ask,' says the cynic in lace ruffles, ' all I
ask of princes is not to live within five miles of me.'
Even thus early in the reign, the King's health gave rise
to some disquietude. *The King,' writes Walpole to
Mann, ' had one of the last of those strong and universally
epidemic colds, which, however, have seldom been fatal.
He had a violent cough, and oppression on his breast,
Avhich he concealed, just as I had ; but my life was of no
consequence, and having no physicians in ordinary, I
was cured in four nights by James's powder, without
bleeding. The King was blooded seven times and had
three blisters. Thank God, he is safe, and we have
escaped a confusion beyond what was ever known on the
accession of the Queen of Scots. Nay, we have not even
a successor born. Fazakerly, wdio has lived long
enough to remember nothini? but the nonsense of the
law, maintained, according to its wise tenets, that, as the
King never dies, the Duke of York must have been pro-
claimed King ; and tlien be unproclaimed again on the
Queen's delivery. We have not even any standing law
for the regency ; but I need not paint you all the diffi-
culties there would have been in our situation.'
The difficulty was overcome ; the King recovered, the
royal couple lived quietly, and when they were disposed
to be gay and in company, they already exhibited a spirit
of economy which may illustrate the saying, that any
virtue carried to excess becomes a vice. On the 26th
of November the Queen and the King saw ' a few friends ' ;
the invitations only included half a dozen strangers, and
the entire company consisted of not more than twelve or
thirteen couple. The six strangers were Lady Caroline
CHARLOTTE SOPHIA. 473
Russell, Lady Jane Stewart, Lord Suffolk, Lord North-
ampton, Lord Mandeville, and Lord Grey. Besides
these were tlie court habitues^ namely the Duchess of
Ancaster and her Grace of Hamilton, who accompanied
the Queen on her first arrival. These ladies danced
little : but on the other hand, Lady Effingham and Lady
Egremont danced much. Then tliere were the six maids of
honour, Lady Bolingbroke — who could not dance because
she was in black gloves, and Lady Susan Stewart in
attendance upon ' Lady Augusta.' The latter was that
eldest daughter of Frederick, Prince of Wales, at whose
birth there had been such a commotion, and who was
commonly called the Lady Augusta, in obedience to her
father's wishes, who was fond of this old-fashioned
English style of naming our princesses. The noblemen
in waiting were Lords March, Eglintoun, Cantilupe, and
Huntingdon. There were ' no sitters-by,' except the
King's mother, the Duchess of Bedford, and Lady Bute.
At this select party, which conuncnced between half-
past six and seven, the King danced the whole time with
tlie Queen ; and tlie Lady Augusta, futui'e mother of the
next Queen of England, with her four younger brothers.
The dancing went on uninterruptedly till one in the
morning : the liungry guests separated without supper ;
and so ended the young couple's first and not very liila-
rious party.
That young couple certainly began life in a pro-
saically business-like way. To suit the King's con-
venience, one opera night was changed from Tuesdays
to Mondays, because the former was ' post-day ' and liis
Majesty too much engaged to attend ; and the Queen
would not have gone on Tuesdays without him. There
was more questionable taste exhibited on other occa-
sions. Eight thousand pounds were expended on a new
state-coach, which was ' a beautiful object crowded with
474 LIVES OF THE (2VEENS OF ENGLAND.
improprieties.' The iiiixLiire of [)alin-trees and Tritons
was laughed at ; the latter as not being adapted to a land-
carriage ; the former as being as little aquatic as the
Tritons were terrestrial.
It was, perhaps, with reference to the Queen's first
supperless party that Lord Chesterfield uttered a bon mot,
when an addition to the peerage was contemplated.
When this was mentioned in his presence, some
one remarked : ' I suppose there will be no dukes
made.' ' Oh, yes, there will !' exclaimed Chesterfield,
' there is to be one' ' Is ? who ? ' ' Lord Talbot ; he is
to be created Duke Humphrey, and there is to be no
table kept at court but his.'
The young nobility, who had formed great expecta-
tions of the splendour and gaiety that were to result, as
they thought, from the establishment of a new court,
with a young couple at the head of it, were miserably
disappointed that pleasure alone was not the deity en-
shrined in the royal dwelling. To the Queen's palace
they gave the name of Holyrood House, intending to
denote thereby that it was the mere abode of chill,
gloom, and meanness. But, be this as it may, the
English court was now the only court in Europe at which
vice was discountenanced, and virtue set as an example
and insisted on in others. With respect to the routine
followed there, it certainly lacked excitement, but was
hardly the worse for that. The (iueen passed most of
her mornings in receiving instruction from Dr. Majendie
in the English tongue. She was an apt scholar, improved
rapidly, and though she never spoke or wrote with
elegance, yet she learned to appreciate our best authors
justly, and was remarkable for the perfection of taste and
manner with which she read aloud. Needle- work fol-
lowed study, and exercise followed needle-work. The
Queen usually rode or walked in company with the King
CHARLOTTE SOPHIA. 475
till dinner-tinie ; and iu the evening she played on the
harpsichord, or sang aloud — and this she could do
almost en artiste ; or she took share in a homely game
of cribbage, and closed the innocently spent day with a
dance. ' And so to bed,' as Mr. Fepys would say —
without supper.
The routine was something changed when her Majesty's
brother, Prince Charles of Strelitz, became a visitor at
the English court in February 1762. He was a prince
short of stature, but w^ell-made, had fine eyes and teeth,
and a very persuasive way with him. So persuasive,
indeed, that he at one time contrived to express Ironi
the King 30,000/. out of the civil-Ust revenue, to
pay the debts the prince had contracted with German
creditors.
In the meantime, matters of costume, as connected
with court etiquette, were not considered beneath her
Majesty's notice. Her birth-day was kept on the 18th of
January, to make it as distinct as possible from the
King's, kept in June, and to encourage both winter and
summer fashions. For the latter anniversary a dress w^as
instituted of ' stiff-bodied gowns and bare shoulders ; '
and invented, it was said, ' to thin the drawing-room.'
' It will be warmer, I hope,' says Walpole, in March, ' by
the King's birth-day, or the old ladies will catch their
deaths. What dreadful discoveries will be made both on
fat and lean ! I recommend to you the idea of Mrs. Caven-
dish when half stark ! ' The Queen's drawing-rooms,
however, w^ere generally crowded by the ladies ; ;uid ncj
wonder, when seventeen English and Scotch unmarried
dukes might be counted at them. The especial birth-
day drawing-room on the anniversaiy of the King's natal
day was, however, ill attended, less on the King's account
than on that of his minister, Lord Bute. Meanwhile,
court was made to the Queen by civilities sliown to a
47^ LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
se(X)nd brotlier who had come over to visit lier, alhired
by afTection and the success wliich had attended the
elder brother. Lady NortliumberlaniVs fete to this
wandering prince was a ' pompous festine ; ' ' not only
the whole house, but the garden was illuminated, and
w^as quite a fairy scene. Arches and pyramids of lights
alternately .^lUTounded the enclosure ; a diamond neck-
lace of lamps edged the rails and descent, with a spiral
obelisk of candles on each hand ; and dispersed over tlie
lawn with little bands of kettle-drums, clarinets, fifes, &c.,
and the lovely moon who came without a card.' Queen
Charlotte knew how to perform a graceful action gracefully
as well as any queen who ever shared the throne. Thus,
Lady Bolingbroke having been trusted by the Duchess of
Bedford with a superb enamelled watch to exhibit to her
Majesty, the latter desired her to put it on, that she might
the better judge of its ornamental effect. She was
obeyed, and thereupon she made a present of it to the
happy lady, remarking, that the watch looked so well
upon her • it ought to remain by Lady Bolingbroke's
side.'
But tlie great event of the year was the birth of
the heir-apparent. It occurred at St. James's Palace, on
the 12th of August. Li previous reigns such events
generally took place in the presence of many witnesses ;
but on the ])resent occasion the Archbishop of Canterbury
and the Lord Chancellor alone were present in that
capacity.
'Many rejoiced,' writes Mrs. Scott, the sister of Eliza-
beth Montagu, ' l)ut none more than those who have
been detained all this liot weather in town to be present
at the ceremony. Among them, no one was more im-
patient than the chancellor, who, not considering any
part of the aflair as a point of law, thought his presence
very unnecessar}^ His lordship and tlie ;n-clil)ish()]^
CHARLOTTE SOPHIA. 477
must have had a fatiguing office ; for, as slie was brouglit
to bed at seven in the morning, tliey must have attended
all night, for fear they should be absent at the critical
moment. I wish they were not too much out of humour
before the prince was born to be able to welcome it pro-
perly.'
The royal christening will be, however, of more in-
terest than details of the birth of the prince. The
ceremony was performed in the grand council chamber,
the Archbishop of Canterbury — ' the right rev. midwife,
Thomas Seeker,' as Walpole calls him — officiating. Wal-
pole, describing the scene, on the day after, says : ' Our
next monarch was christened, last night, George Augustus
Frederick. The Princess (Dowager of Wales), the Duke
of Cumberland, and the Duke of Mecklenburgh, sponsors.
The Queen's bed, magnificent and, they say, in taste, was
placed in the drawing-room ; tliough she is not to see
company in form, yet it looks as if they had intended
people should have been there, as all who presented
themselves were admitted, which were very few, for it
had not been notified ; I suppose to prevent too great a
crowd. All I have heard named, besides those in wait-
ing, were the Duchess of Queensberry, Lady Dalkeith,
Mrs. Grenville, and about four other ladies.'
It was precisely at the period of the christening of
this royal babe that the marriage of her who was to be
the mother of his future wife was first publicly spoken of.
In September Walpole expresses a hope to his fiiend
Conway that the hereditary Prince of Brunswick is
' recovering of the wound in his loins, for they say he is
to marry the Princess Augusta.' Walpole, however,
would have nothins; to do with the new Prince of Wales.
' With him^ he says, ' I am positive never to occupy
myself. I kissed the hand of his great-great-grand-
father ; would it not be preposterous to tap a volume of
47^ 'lives of the queens of England.
future history, of which I can never see but the first
pages ? '
Poor Queen Cliarlottc did not escape scandal. Less
than twenty years after her death a M. Gailliardet pub-
hshed, in 1836, a memoir of the celebrated Chevalier
d'Eon, founded, it is said, on fimily papers. In this book,
the young Queen Charlotte was described, in the year
1763, as giving interviews by night to the chevalier, and
the Prince of Wales, just named, was said to be their
son. Many years after Gailliardet's book had appeared
a M. Jourdan published ' Un Hermaphrodite,' which
was a wholesale plagiarism from Gailliardet. Jourdan
denied this fact ; wlien Gailliardet declared that the whole
story about the Queen and the chevalier was pure fiction!
Jourdan then affirmed that he had nothing to do with
' Un Hermaphrodite,' and had only put his name to it.
In this way is calumny propagated. If we may judge
from a letter written about this time, by Mrs. Scott, the
Queen was not a person to attract chevaliers. The
Queen's ' person,' she says, ' is not the only thing that
displeases. There is a coarseness and vulgarity of manners
that disgust much more. She does not seem to choose
to fashion herself at all.'
479
CHAPTEE Iir.
ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS.
Scenes, and personal sketches of Queen Charlotte — Iler fondness for
diamonds — Visit to Mrs. Garrick — Orphan establishment at Bedford
founded by the Queen — Her benevolence on the breaking of the Windsor
bank — Marriage of Princess Caroline Matilda — Unfounded rumours
about the Qaeen — Hannah Lightfoot — The King's illness — A regency
recommended by the King — Discussions relative to it — Birth of Prince
Frederick — Failing health of the Duke of Cumberland.
In 1761 not a more gorgeously attired queen, in presence
of the public, was to be found than ours. But we learn
that, in 1762, the first thing of which the Queen got
positively weary was her jewels. At first, seeing herself
endowed with them, lier joy was girlish, natural, and
unfeigned. But the gladness was soon over. It was the
ecstacy of a week, as she herself said a quarter of a century
later ; and there was indifference at the end of a fortnight.
' I thought at first,' said she, ' I should always choose to
wear them ; but the fatigue and trouble of putting them
on, and the care they required, and the fear of losing
them ; why, believe me, madam, in a fortnight's time I
longed for my own earlier dress and wished never to see
them more.'
This was said to Miss Burney, subsequently her
dresser and reader, who adds that the Queen informed
her that dress and shows had never been things she
cared for, even in the bloom of her youth ; and that
neatness and comfort alone gave her pleasure in herself
as in others. The Queen confessed that ' the first week
or fortnight of being a Queen, when only in her seven-
4^0 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
teenth year, she thouglit splendour sufficiently becoming
her station to believe she should choose thenceforth con-
stantly to support it. But it was not her mind,' says
MisH Burney, ' but only her eyes that were dazzled,
and tlierefore her delusion speedily vanished, and her
understanding was too strong to give it any chance of
returning.'
This is pretty, but it has the disadvantage of not
being exactly ti'ue. The Queen may have been indif-
ferent for a while to the wearing or the value of
diamonds, but later in life, if she did nurse a cherished
passion, it was for these glittering gewgaws. The popular
voice, at least, accused her of this passion, and before
many years elapsed it was commonly said that no money
was so sure to buy her favour as a present of diamonds.
That she could., however, condescend to very simple tasks
is well known. This is illustrated by her visit to Mrs.
Garrick, at Hampton. The Queen found the ex-actress
engaged in peeling onions, and Charlotte sat down, and,
by helping her in her employment, saved her from the
annoyance of being ashamed of it.
In 1763 the country hailed the advent of peace and
the retirement of Lord Bute from office. The Queen's
popularity was greater than that of the King, and even
men of extremely liberal politics greeted her ' mild and
tender virtues.' She now encouraged trade by her
splendid fetes., and was one of those persons who, by
enjoying festive grandeurs calmly, acquire a reputation
for Ciihnly despi-ing them. In August 17 Go she became
the mother of a second prince, Frederick, afterwards
Duke of York.
One of the first arts of the Queen, this same year, was
a graceful act of benevolence. The 3^oung mother had
thought and a heart for young orphans — of gentility.
For parentless children of gentle blood siie established a
CHARLOTTE SOPHIA. 48 1
home ill Bedfordshire. At the head of the house was
placed a lady who, witli many comforts, enjoyed the
liberal salary of 500/. per annum. In return for this she
superintended the instruction of the young ladies (who
were not admitted till they had attained the age of fifteen
— age of folly and of fermentation, as some one has called
it) in embroidery. The first produce of their taste and
toil was the property of their patroness, the young Queen,
and was converted into ornaments for window curtains,
chairs, sofas, and bed furniture for Windsor Castle and
the ' Queen's House ' in St. James's Park.
This was, perhaps, rather a calculating benevolence ;
but the Queen paid 500/. a year for fifty years for it, and
her Majesty was not wanting in true charity. In a later
period of her reign the middle classes of Windsor were
thrown into mucli misery by the breaking of the bank
there. Many individuals of the class alluded to held tlie
1/. notes of this bank ; and the paper had now no more
value than as paper. The Queen, on hearing the case,
ordered her treasurer to give cash for these notes on
their being presented, and this was done to the extent of
400/. Her daughters acted as clerks, and never was
there so hilarious a run upon the bank as on this royal
house at Windsor.
The year 1'<'65 opened in some sense auspiciously —
with a royal marriage. Caroline Matilda was the
posthumous daughter of Frederick, Prince of Wales, and
was born in July 1751. The terms of her marriage with
Christian, Crown Prince of Denmark, were settled in
January of this year; but, on account of the extreme
youth of the contracting parties, they were not carried
into effect until two years had elapsed. Meanwhile, the
young bride, who had been remarkable for her beauty,
grace, and elegance — and above all for her vivacity —
seemed almost to fade away, so nervously anxious did she
VOL. I. 11"
482 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
become as to the obligation by ^vllich she was bound and
its possible results. Before the espousals were completed
her affianced husband had become King of Denmark, and
when Queen Charlotte congratulated her sister-in-law
she little thought of the hard fate that was to follow upon
the ceremony. As for the following year, it was a time
of much anxiety and distress, and the people were scarcely
c;ood-humoured enouoh in 1765 to welcome the birth of
a third prince, in the person of William Henry, afterwards
Duke of Clarence,
The reports circulated at this time, to the effect that
the Queen interfered in state affairs, were discredited by
those who certainly did not lack the means of getting at
the truth. The rumour appears to have been beheved
by Mr. Stanhope ; but Lord Chesterfield, in writing to his
son, and noticing his belief in the good foundation of
such a rumour, says : ' You seem not to know the
character of the Queen ; here it is. She is a good
woman, a good wife, a tender mother, and an unmed-
dling queen. The King loves her as a woman, but I
verily believe has never yet spoken one word to her
about business.'
The reports regarding her were at once atrocious and
absurd. They were the falser because they spoke of her
having insisted on a repetition of her marriage ceremony
Avith the King, and that the same was performed by Dr.
Wilmot, at Kew Palace. The motive for this jn-oceeding
was ascribed to the alleged fact of the death of Hannah
Li,<4htfoot, with whom rumour was resolved that the King
had been wedded, and that now a legal marriage might
be solemnised between the Queen and himself. The
atrocity of rumour was illustrated by a report that in
consequence of an attack of illness Avhich had affected, for
a short time, the King's mental faculties, the Queen, ai'iiied
\vllli ;t liiw ^vhil•ll, in tlie case of" an iulerj'ii[)ti(»n iu the
CHARLOTTE SOPHIA. 4^3
exercise of the royal authority, gave a power of
regency to her Majesty, or other members of the roj^al
family, assisted by a council, had exercised the most
unlimited sway over the national affairs, to the injury of
the nation.
The only part of this which is true is where the King's
illness is referred to. That he had been mentally afiected
was not known beyond the palace, and to but a very few
within it. He went with the Queen to Eichmond in the
month of April, announcing an intention to spend a week
there ; but, on the third day, he appeared unexpectedly
at the levee held by the Queen. This was so contrived
in order to prevent a crowd. He was at the drawing-
room on the following day, and at chapel on Good Friday.
He looked pale, but it was the fixed plan to call him
well, and far-seeing people hoped that he was so. His
heal til was considered as very precarious, but what was
chiefly dreaded was — consumption.
He acted with promptitude in this matter, by going
down to the House, and in an affecting and dignified spirit,
urging the necessity of appointing a regency, in case of
some accident happening to himself before the heir-
apparent should become of age. The struggle on this
bill was one of the most violent which had ever been
carried on by two adverse factions. By a mere juggle
practised on the King, the clauses of the bill passed by
the Lords, after some absurd discussion as to what was
meant by the ' royal family,' excluded his motlier, the
Princess-dowager of Wales, as though she were not
a member of it. The struggle was as fierce in the
Commons ; for ministers dreaded lest, with the Princess-
dowager, they might get her protege., Lord Bute, for
' King ! ' The political antagonists professed a super-
excellence of what they did not possess — patriotism ; and
after a battle of personalities, the name of the Princess-
484 LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
dowager was inserted next after that of tlie Queen (whom
some were desirous to exclude altogether), as capable,
with certain assistance named, of exercising the power of
regency, and the Lords adopted the bill which came to
them thus amended.
The Queen, it is hardly necessary to observe, had no
opportunity under this bill to exercise any present power,
had she been ever so inclined. It was only in after years
that her enemies made the accusation against her, when
they wanted the memory which mendacious persons are
said to chiefly require. With respect to the desired
omission of the name of the King's mother from the
regency, it was fixing on her a most unmerited stigma.
-The attempt to prove that she was not of the royal family
was to say, in other words, that she was not akin to her
own son. It is not known whether the Queen herself
thought so, nor did people care what a fiction of law
might say thereupon. The Princess-dowager's name was
placed next to that of Queen Charlotte in the new
Regency bill.
There is little more of personal detail connected with
the Queen this year that is of much interest. Her eldest
son already wore a long list of titles, had been honoured
■with the Order of the Garter, and returned brief answers
to loyal deputations. He was born twice a duke, once
an earl and baron, and Lord High Steward of Scotland.
He was Duke of Cornwall and Eothsay, Earl of Carrick,
and Baron of Eenfrew ; and a few days after his birth
his mother smilingly laid upon his lap the patent whereby
he was created Prince of Wales. His brother Frederick
had been, ere he could speak, named Bishop of Osnaburgh ;
and Queen and King were equally hurt by the ' ChajDter,'
who acknowledged their diocesan, but refused to entrust
to him the irres})onsible guardianship of the episcopal
funds. The Queen's thoughts were drawn away from
CHARLOTTE SOPHIA. 485
this matter, for a moment, by the birth (ah'eady noticed)
of William Henry, on the 21st of August— the second of
her children destined to ascend the throne. This was the
little prince who so delighted the good Mrs. Chapone,
and by his engaging ways won the heart of Dr. Thomas,'
Bishop of Winchester.
But while some princes were flourishing, others were
fading. The health of the Duke of Cumberland, the
dearly loved son of CaroHne, had long been precarious.
As early as April in this year his favourite sister, Amelia,
residing at Gunnersbury, had felt much alarm on his
account. 'The Duke of Cumberland is actually set out
for .Newmarket to-day ; he, too, is called much better,
but it is often as true of the health of princes as of their
prisoners, that there is little distance between each and
their graves. There has been lately a fire at Gunners-
bury which burned four rooms ; her servants announced it
to Princess Amelia with that wise precaution of " Madam,
do not be frightened ! "—accordingly, she was terrified.
When they told her the truth, she said, " I am very glad ;
I had expectation my brother was dead." ' ^ The expecta-
tion seemed natural. A few months more only were to
elapse before he who was so over-praised for his general-
ship at CuUoden, and so over-censured for his severity
after it, was summoned to depart.
1 ' Walpole's Letters.'
END OF THE FIRST VOLUME.
LOXDOX : PUIXTKD liT
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Lives of the queens of
England of the house of
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