THE LIBRARY 
 
 [HE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
 GIFT OF 
 
 COMMODORE BYRON MCCANDLESS
 
 A 
 
 r 
 
 f* 
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 .-V* 
 
 ,% vu* 
 
 
 
 -.i
 
 .4
 
 Sophia Dorothea 
 
 Wife of George I
 
 IN THE DAYS OF 
 THE GEORGES 
 
 BV 
 
 WILLIAM B. BOULTON 
 
 AUTHOR OF "THE AMUSEMENTS OF OLD LONDON," "SIR JOSHUA 
 REYNOLDS," " THOMAS GAINSBOROUGH," ETC., ETC. 
 
 JOINT AUTHOR OF 
 " MEMORIALS OF THE ROYAL YACHT SQUADRON " 
 
 NEW YORK 
 JAMES POTT AND COMPANY 
 
 1910
 
 RICHARD CLAY & SONS, LIMITED, 
 
 BREAD STREET HILL, E.C., AND 
 
 DUNGAY, SUFFOLK.
 
 PA 
 
 TO 
 
 CECILIA H. CROKER FOX
 
 The author is much indebted to Messrs. 
 Smith, Elder & Co. and to Messrs. Macmillan 
 for their courteous permission to print two of 
 the following sketches, ' A Royal Romance,' 
 and ' The Complete Gamester,' which appeared 
 in The Cornhill Magazine and Temple Bar 
 respectively.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 I. A ROYAL FEUD AND ITS VICTIM ... 9 
 
 II. THE ELUSIVE QUAKERESS .... 85 
 
 III. A ROYAL ROMANCE 139 
 
 IV. A MAID OF HONOUR 163 
 
 V. THE COMPLETE GAMESTER . . . .227 
 
 VI. THE INCOMPARABLE BRUMMELL . . 251
 
 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 To face page 
 
 SOPHIA DOROTHEA .... Frontispiece 
 FREDERICK, PRINCE OF WALES . . . . 4 2 
 QUEEN CAROLINE AS PRINCESS OF WALES ... 70 
 
 MRS. AXFORD 102 
 
 From a painting by Sir Joshua Reynolds. (By permission of 
 Henry Graves & Co.) 
 
 GEORGE III 130 
 
 LADY SARAH LENNOX WITH LADY SUSAN STRANGWAYS 
 
 AND CHARLES JAMES Fox . . . .150 
 From a painting by Sir Joshua Reynolds. (By permission of 
 Henry Graves 5s 3 Co.) 
 
 ELIZABETH CHUDLEIGH, COUNTESS OF BRISTOL . -174 
 
 CAPTAIN AUGUSTUS JOHN HERVEY, THIRD EARL OF 
 
 BRISTOL 206 
 
 "FARO" 242 
 
 From the drawing by T. Rowlandson. 
 
 GEORGE BRYAN BRUMMELL 262 
 
 GEORGE, PRINCE OF WALES . . . . . 288 
 
 From a painting by Cosway.
 
 I 
 
 A ROYAL FEUD AND ITS VICTIM
 
 A ROYAL FEUD AND ITS VICTIM 
 
 IT is a hard fate, surely, whatever the balance 
 of good and evil in a man's character, that his 
 reputation should depend upon the reports of his 
 enemies; harder than ordinary, perhaps, when he 
 is a prince and a link in the direct succession of 
 one of the great royal houses of Europe. Such 
 a fate, none the less, befell Frederick Prince of 
 Wales, the son of King George the Second of 
 England, who, when he came to die untimely, left 
 hardly a soul to mourn him, except the boy prince 
 who succeeded him, who, we read, "cried ex- 
 tremely." Such virtues as Frederick possessed 
 were left unnoted ; his faults, which were undoubt- 
 edly many, were written at length by his foes. 
 Here is what the biographer upon whom we are 
 forced chiefly to rely says of Frederick Prince 
 of Wales 
 
 " Had he had one grain of merit at the bottom 
 of his heart, one should have had compassion for 
 him in the situation to which his miserable poor 
 head soon reduced him, for his case, in short, was 
 this : He had a father that abhorred him ; a mother 
 that despised him; sisters that betrayed him; a 
 
 ii
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 brother set up against him, and a set of servants 
 that neglected him." 
 
 This man, then, was poor in most that makes 
 life worth the living, and a little charity in the 
 recital of his faults from those who set down the 
 record of his life might have brought some post- 
 humous redress, if only to his memory. That, 
 too, failed him. Lord Hervey, whom we have 
 quoted above, and Horace Walpole, whose bitter 
 Memoirs and Reminiscences complete the story 
 of Frederick's life, were both his sworn foes; the 
 first for private as well as political reasons; the 
 last because Frederick, as heir-apparent, was the 
 very head and front of the opposition to Horace's 
 father, Sir Robert Walpole, George the Second's 
 great minister. So Frederick's career makes but 
 a poor show in the writings of those historians. 
 As for the Prince's memory, for most people it 
 survives to-day only in the lines of the bitterest 
 epitaph of an age much given to bitter exercises 
 of that kind. When, in 1751, Frederick fell back 
 into the arms of his valet at Carlton House, the 
 streets of London were, within a few hours, ring- 
 ing with those dreadful lines with which the 
 Jacobite enemies of his family commemorated his 
 death, and which preserve for many of us our 
 single memory of the hapless Prince 
 
 "Here lies Fred, 
 Who was alive, and who's dead, 
 I had much rather 
 It had been his father; 
 12
 
 A ROYAL FEUD AND ITS VICTIM 
 
 Had it been his brother, 
 
 Still better than another ; 
 
 Had it been his sister, 
 
 No one would have missed her; 
 
 Had it been the whole generation, 
 
 Still better for the nation; 
 
 But as its only Fred, 
 
 Who was alive, and who's dead, 
 
 There's no more to be said." 
 
 It is now nearly two centuries since those lines 
 were written, and perhaps, at this later date, there 
 may be a little more to be said. We can trace 
 Frederick through his forty-four years with some 
 better guidance of recorded fact and written letter 
 than was at the disposal of that scribe of the bitter 
 pen; we can at least consider his faults with a 
 calm judgment, and perhaps with a more charit- 
 able outlook than those who occupied themselves 
 with them in his own day. 
 
 Frederick Louis was born at Hanover on the 
 6th of January, 1707, his father George being 
 then only Electoral Prince, his grandfather the 
 Elector George having not yet succeeded Queen 
 Anne in the throne as George the First of these 
 kingdoms. Of Frederick's childhood we know 
 nothing, except that he was the eldest of eight 
 children, but we may hope that he met with some 
 little joy in those early years of his life to make 
 amends for the troubles which came thick enough 
 later. Frederick's father, who became in due 
 time our King George the Second, was only 
 twenty-four at the time of the child's birth, and 
 
 13
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 it is pleasant to think, as we say, that his appear- 
 ance increased the domestic harmony which at 
 present prevailed in the Prince's modest estab- 
 lishment at Herrenhausen, that old cradle of the 
 Brunswicks just outside Hanover city, where 
 Frederick's father and grandfather lived together 
 in the old German fashion, and, each in his own 
 way, took their pleasure. No one need grudge 
 Frederick any happy recollections of his child- 
 hood at Herrenhausen as some compensation for 
 the chagrins of his youth and manhood. 
 
 Vanity seems to have been the ruling trait in 
 the character of Frederick's father, George. He 
 was a small man, fond of his little figure, proud 
 of his shapely leg, which he was later careful to 
 display with the Garter on it, and exulting, per- 
 haps, rather in the show than in the reality, proud 
 of his intrigues with this or that German lady. 
 He was known as Dapper George among those 
 who were highly placed enough to make fun of 
 princes; his brother-in-law Frederic Wilhelm of 
 Prussia, indeed, used to speak of him as the 
 Buffoon, a pleasantry to which George retaliated 
 by calling that monarch the Arch Beadle of the 
 Holy Roman Empire, which was a retort not lack- 
 ing in point to the knowing ones of those days. 
 But, with all his weaknesses, George had many 
 good qualities. He told the truth, and he was 
 brave. Only a year after Frederick's birth he 
 joined the army of the Allies under the great 
 Marlborough, and distinguished himself mightily
 
 A ROYAL FEUD AND ITS VICTIM 
 
 at Oudenarde, where he led a cavalry charge, was 
 unhorsed, and more than once in deadly peril. 
 Years later, again, at Dettingen, when his horse 
 bolted and nearly carried him into the enemy's 
 lines, he dismounted, with the remark that on foot 
 he knew he should not run away, put himself at 
 the head of an infantry regiment, waved his sword 
 and threw himself into the postures of a fencing 
 master, led them into action, and set an example 
 for the bravest captain in the army. He would 
 always bring out his old Oudenarde coat in later 
 years for his birthday, and his people laughed at 
 his harmless vanity, but cheered when they saw it 
 at public festivals, for bravery is always in fashion. 
 Frederick's mother was the brilliant Caroline 
 of Anspach, one of the most beautiful, and cer- 
 tainly the most capable, of the royal ladies of 
 those days. No Englishman can speak of Queen 
 Caroline of England without respect; the great- 
 ness of modern England is largely due to the 
 sagacity and steadfastness of that Queen, and to 
 her wise use of the almost unlimited power which 
 the character of the King placed in her hands. 
 Caroline was daughter of the Margrave of Bran- 
 denburg Anspach, and her mother having been 
 left a widow when little Caroline was four years 
 old, the child was taken to the court of the Duke 
 of Saxony, whom her mother married as second 
 husband. .There were many doings at that ir- 
 regular court at Dresden which were unsuited to 
 Caroline's tender years, and for her, at least, it 
 
 15
 
 was a good thing that the Duke was shortly called 
 to his fathers, and that she passed while still quite 
 young into the keeping of her guardian, the 
 Elector of Brandenburg, afterwards Frederic the 
 First of Prussia, and went to live at his court in 
 Berlin. 
 
 At Berlin the little Princess Caroline became 
 a favourite with all who knew her, and among her 
 most devoted friends was her guardian's wife, 
 the Electress Sophia Charlotte, a lady of unusual 
 intellectual gifts, the friend and protector of many 
 of the scientific and philosophical bigwigs of her 
 times, including the erudite Leibnitz, who was 
 often at the court, and the advantage of whose 
 teaching the young girl shared with the Electress. 
 The old Electress Sophia of Hanover was also 
 very fond of the brilliant young princess, and 
 both those great ladies were pleased to say that 
 Berlin and Hanover were " a desert without her." 
 The old Electress, indeed, quite early formed 
 plans for Caroline's betrothal to her grandson 
 Dapper George, and that in spite of a great 
 matrimonial project which had been on foot since 
 1698 and was to unite her to the Archduke Charles 
 of Austria, later Charles the Sixth, Emperor of 
 Austria, and titular King of Spain. By the year 
 1704 this project was so seriously in train that 
 Caroline's conversion to the Catholic faith was 
 thought necessary, and a Jesuit father was told 
 off to undertake that salutary office. The good 
 father, however, found his task a hard one. t The 
 
 16
 
 A ROYAL FEUD AND ITS VICTIM 
 
 Princess refused absolutely to accept his dogmas 
 without discussion, disputed with his reverence in 
 a most independent manner, and was ever pre- 
 pared with awkward questions which he found it 
 most difficult to answer. It is said that after each 
 interview with the Jesuit she would seek counsel 
 with the Electress Sophia and Herr Leibnitz, who 
 both encouraged her in her unaccommodating 
 attitude towards the priest. In any case, Caroline 
 refused to accept his conclusions altogether, and 
 herself declined further negotiations for the mar- 
 riage in a letter she wrote to the Archduke's envoy, 
 the Elector Palatine. There was much shaking of 
 heads among the great Catholic families at this 
 failure to snatch the brand from the burning, and 
 a corresponding elation among those of the Re- 
 formed Church. " Providence kept a reward in 
 store for such an exalted virtue," said Mr. Addison, 
 and "her pious firmness," as Bishop Burnett 
 remarked, " was not to go unrequited even in this 
 life." .The reward and requital came, it may be 
 supposed, when this gifted lady was married to 
 Dapper George in September of 1705. To some 
 it may seem that the blessing to the Princess was a 
 good deal disguised, but there is no doubt as to 
 George's good fortune; and the union was none 
 the less a blessing to the kingdom which in due 
 time Queen Caroline came to rule. Dapper 
 George, despite his bravery, went through life 
 mainly as a figure of fun whom people failed to 
 take quite seriously. He, to be sure, thought him- 
 
 B 17
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 self a great statesman, and was prevented by his 
 vanity from realizing that his clever wife and her 
 great minister ruled the country by a dexterous 
 manipulation of that very quality. So he con- 
 tinued his struttings and caperings, to the amuse- 
 ment of all Europe, made his courtiers laugh when 
 he kicked his wig round the room at St. James's in 
 his tantrums, really believed that he had the 
 destinies of half Europe in his hands, while his 
 watchful Queen kept him free from those con- 
 tinental entanglements which were the dread of 
 his English subjects, and allowed Walpole to give 
 England that long period of profound peace which 
 it so much wanted, and which laid the first founda- 
 tions of its later greatness. 
 
 To this pair, then, was born Frederick, and one 
 cannot doubt that his arrival was an occasion of 
 rejoicing to that strangely assorted couple. Dap- 
 per George was undoubtedly very fond of his 
 brilliant wife, then and afterwards, though his 
 fondness showed itself in some amazing ways. 
 But at this early period he had not developed 
 that propensity of his later years for irregular con- 
 nections with improper ladies, and Caroline, poor 
 lady, was devotion itself to her vain little prince 
 to the day of her death. One likes to think, there- 
 fore, of some domestic peace in George's estab- 
 lishment at Herrenhausen during those early days 
 of his married life ; there was strife enough going 
 on under the same roof at the time, which was to 
 be repeated in his own family only a few years later. 
 
 18 '
 
 A ROYAL FEUD AND ITS VICTIM 
 
 Many competent judges are of opinion that the 
 shortcomings of Frederick's career, which are ad- 
 mitted on all hands, are to be explained by that 
 unfortunate contention between father and son 
 which was already a tradition of his family, and 
 continued for two generations after his death. The 
 first Elector of Hanover, Ernest Augustus, seems 
 to have got on very well with his son, our first 
 George, but the history of the four English 
 Georges and their offspring is that of a house 
 divided against itself. That disastrous feud 
 absolutely extinguished any prospect of domestic 
 happiness in the royal family of England for well 
 over a hundred years, and was, perhaps, in its 
 worst phase during Frederick's own manhood. A 
 calm consideration of all the facts seems to 
 suggest that Frederick, his many follies notwith- 
 standing, was that feud's chief victim. In any 
 case, to form any valid estimate of his career, it is 
 necessary to examine, however briefly, the origin 
 of that sombre tradition. 
 
 This royal feud had already borne its bitter 
 fruit in the relations which existed between Dapper 
 George and his father at the time of Frederick's 
 birth. No one has ever satisfactorily explained 
 the causes of the beginning of the strife, but the 
 two Georges were already upon the worst of 
 terms. Some say it was a hereditary jealousy on 
 the part of the father of the son who must succeed 
 him; others that it was the son's open espousal 
 of his mother's cause in the tragic matrimonial 
 
 2 19
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 difference which existed Between the elder George 
 and his wife. If that latter reason be the true 
 one, it must certainly be counted for righteousness 
 to the son. 
 
 There are few sadder stories in European his- 
 tory than that of George the First and his wife 
 Sophia Dorothea of Zell. George, in the year 1682, 
 at the age of twenty-two, had married the beautiful 
 Sophia Dorothea, daughter of the Duke of Zell, 
 and this lady had already borne him two children, 
 Dapper George, and Sophia, afterwards Queen of 
 Prussia, when the domestic peace of the establish- 
 ment at Herrenhausen, where the young couple 
 lived with the Elector Ernest, became much dis- 
 turbed by a variety of causes. First among these 
 was undoubtedly the irregular life at the Electoral 
 court, where existed a state of things which was 
 exceedingly galling to the young Electoral Prin- 
 cess, who was a young lady of more than average 
 parts, and was gifted with an exceedingly sharp 
 tongue, which she was accustomed to exercise 
 with great freedom. Among the objects of her 
 derision, which she made no attempt to keep to 
 herself, was an elderly favourite of the Elector 
 Ernest, a certain Countess Platen, of whom Sophia 
 Dorothea was wont to make unmerciful fun, and 
 whose rancorous enmity she consequently in- 
 curred. The Princess was already on bad terms 
 with her husband George, whose taciturn char- 
 acter and rather boorish habits were utterly dis- 
 tasteful to the sprightly young girl, and who had 
 
 20
 
 A ROYAL FEUD AND ITS VICTIM 
 
 already added matrimonial infidelity, and, it is 
 said, personal violence, to the grievances she had 
 against him. There suddenly appeared at this 
 inharmonious court of Hanover another disturbing 
 element in the person of a certain Count Philip 
 Konigsmark, an adventurer of good family, who, 
 after wandering about Europe in evil courses of 
 all sorts, had got a place at that court as Colonel 
 of the Electoral Guards, and was perhaps the 
 most accomplished and graceless scamp of his 
 times. Sophia had known this Konigsmark as a 
 child; they had, in fact, been playmates together 
 at her father's court at Zell, and there is no doubt 
 that she welcomed the appearance of the hand- 
 some Konigsmark at Herrenhausen, and took a 
 natural pleasure in his company, as affording some 
 relief from the dreary surroundings in which she 
 found herself at Hanover. She was, doubtless, in- 
 discreet, and lent too willing an ear to the fascinat- 
 ing colonel, but of anything further than indiscre- 
 tion there has never been the slightest reliable 
 evidence. It is obvious, however, that the arrival 
 of Konigsmark at Herrenhausen, in the circum- 
 stances then prevailing, completed all the ele- 
 ments necessary for a tragedy, and that tragedy 
 followed surely enough. 
 
 Konigsmark, who was a hopeless villain, as his 
 career already proved, was well known in Eng- 
 land, where he had been concerned with his 
 brother in that atrocious murder of Mr. Thomas 
 Thynne in Pall Mall" Tom of Ten Thousand," 
 
 21
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 whose fate may still be seen carved in stone on his 
 tomb in Westminster Abbey and it was a thou- 
 sand pities that a halter was not fitted to the 
 Count's handsome neck on that occasion. At 
 Hanover he swaggered and posed as a rich man, 
 dressed finely and in good taste, was witty, 
 satirical, gay and amusing. He seems to have 
 made a sort of love to the old Countess Platen and 
 her daughter, or perhaps allowed them to make 
 love to him. At any rate, he went about bragging 
 of his successes with those ladies, and in his cups 
 was accustomed warmly to espouse the cause of the 
 Electoral Princess against her husband. There 
 are never wanting busybodies to report this sort 
 of vapourings in the quarters where they are likely 
 to do the most harm, and it was not long before 
 the Platen heard of Konigsmark's indecent boast- 
 ings, and of the part he had taken in Sophia's 
 matrimonial differences with Prince George. She 
 at once set herself to gratify the hatred she bore 
 to both these young people by devising a scheme 
 for their undoing. 
 
 Volumes have been written upon the history of 
 this unfortunate Princess Sophia, in which parti- 
 sans of herself and of her husband have stated the 
 case for each with the fulness and acrimony usual 
 in such disputes ; but no one has proved the guilti- 
 ness of her relations with Konigsmark, though the 
 archives of half the courts of Europe have been 
 ransacked with that purpose, and a consideration 
 
 of the evidence now available points certainly to 
 
 22
 
 great indiscretion on her part, but to nothing 
 more. That indiscretion, however, made the 
 Platen's task of compromising her an easy one. 
 That wicked painted old harridan seized her 
 first opportunity of making mischief when she 
 saw Konigsmark take the baby George from his 
 young mother's arms in the garden at Herren- 
 hausen, and carry the child to the Princess's 
 apartments; that lady's husband was away, but 
 the Platen posted off hot-foot to Elector Ernest, 
 reported the incident, and thus succeeded in 
 creating an atmosphere of suspicion about the 
 relations of Konigsmark and the Princess. The 
 Elector, it is said, was not inclined to make any 
 fuss, but gave it as his opinion that in relieving 
 the tired Sophia of the child, Konigsmark had 
 paid her " an insolent attention." Later on, upon 
 the return of Prince George, the Platen contrived 
 that a glove of Sophia's should be dropped in a 
 pavilion in the garden which Konigsmark was 
 known to have just quitted, and found by her hus- 
 band, and the point was emphasized by the Platen 
 sending a messenger, as if from the Princess, for 
 its recovery. She then turned her attention to the 
 Prince himself, used all her wiles to get him to 
 accept her sister, Mme. von Busche, as his favour- 
 ite, and failing in that scheme, introduced Melu- 
 sina Schulemberg to him, and had the satisfaction 
 of seeing that lady installed in that position at a 
 public festival which she gave in honour of her 
 sister's wedding. Outraged at this indignity, the
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 poor Princess Sophia fled to her father's court at 
 Zell, but the Duke could give her no help, and 
 she was forced to return to Hanover. Here there 
 is no doubt she poured her woes into the sym- 
 pathetic ear of Konigsmark, as the only person 
 about that dismal court in whom she could confide. 
 They met often, but never alone, so far as has 
 been proved, and she undoubtedly invoked his aid 
 in attempting to escape from surroundings which 
 she found intolerable. Her enemies said that she 
 proposed to accompany him upon a visit he was 
 about to make to Paris; it seems more certain, 
 however, that the scheme in which she asked his 
 assistance was to help her to escape to the court of 
 her cousin the Duke of Wolfenbuttel. But their 
 goings and comings were watched by the Platen, 
 who seized the opportunity of a second absence of 
 Prince George for a plot of a fiendish cunning and 
 ferocity. She sent a note to Konigsmark, signed 
 with the forged signature of the Princess, request- 
 ing him to attend Sophia at her apartment. 
 Konigsmark, nothing loth, perhaps, obeyed the 
 summons, and found Sophia attended by her maid 
 of honour, Mile. Knesebeck, who was present 
 throughout the interview which followed. His 
 appearance, however, in the Princess's apartments 
 was sufficient for the purposes of the Platen, and 
 as soon as her agents had seen Konigsmark within 
 the doors of the palace, she herself hurried off to 
 the Elector, reported the fact, and procured from 
 him an order for Konigsmark's arrest. She then 
 
 24
 
 A ROYAL FEUD AND ITS VICTIM 
 
 went to the palace guard, showed the order, bribed 
 the halberdiers both with wine and gold, and in- 
 structed them to arrest the Count alive or dead. 
 The guard concealed themselves behind a high 
 stove in the Hall of Knights, which Konigsmark 
 must cross in leaving the Princess's rooms. He 
 was seized from behind as he passed the stove, 
 and struck down with a halberd as he drew his 
 sword to defend himself. As he fell he cried, 
 " Spare the innocent Princess," and it is said that 
 the Platen appeared at the cry, and crushed with 
 her heel the lips of the dying man as he cursed her 
 with his last breath. The paving of the palace 
 floor was taken up, and his body buried in lime 
 near where it fell. 
 
 The greatest efforts were made to hush up this 
 awful tragedy in which, of course, the Electoral 
 Prince had no hand, but in vain. George was 
 quite prepared to let matters rest and to resume his 
 relation of husband with the Princess, but to no 
 purpose. She refused all offers of compromise by 
 declaring that if she was guilty she was unworthy 
 of the Prince, if innocent, he was unworthy of her. 
 This attitude and its consequences seem to raise a 
 very strong presumption of her innocence. George 
 was forced to bring a suit of divorce against his 
 wife, and summoned a consistory court for that 
 purpose. In the pleadings before this court no 
 charge of adultery was brought against Sophia, 
 and the decree which was pronounced against her 
 on the 28th of December, 1694, divorced her from 
 
 25
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 her husband upon the ground of desertion. Upon 
 the execution of this sentence she took an oath 
 upon the Sacrament solemnly protesting her inno- 
 cence, an oath which she repeated weekly at that 
 sacred office throughout her life. She was removed 
 to the castle of Ahlden, situated in a dreary morass 
 near the banks of a river of that name, where she 
 lived closely guarded for thirty years. 
 
 It seems entirely creditable to this poor lady's 
 son, Dapper George, that as he grew up he refused 
 altogether to believe in his mother's guilt. So 
 little was this the case, indeed, that he and his 
 sister, later Queen of Prussia, engaged in a sur- 
 reptitious correspondence with her, and George, it 
 is said, cherished schemes for her deliverance. 
 He made one effort, at least, to see her. As a 
 youth he was hunting in the neighbourhood of her 
 prison, and before any of his suite realized his 
 intention, rode off alone at top speed towards the 
 castle. He had reached the woods of Ahlden, 
 and must soon have been in communication with 
 his mother, when he was overtaken by his guard- 
 ians, put under arrest, and sent back to Hanover. 
 This feeling of sympathy and pity by the son for 
 a mother he had not seen since his early childhood, 
 however creditable to him, was obviously no re- 
 commendation to his father in all the circum- 
 stances, and seems to supply the best explanation 
 of the family strife of the Brunswicks which began 
 with the two first Georges, and lasted until George 
 the Fourth saw his daughter, the Princess Caro- 
 
 26
 
 A ROYAL FEUD AND ITS VICTIM 
 
 line, descend untimely into the grave a full cen- 
 tury later. 
 
 It must have been a strange household, that at 
 Herrenhausen, two generations of the same family 
 living under the same roof at issue with each other, 
 and the patriarchal Elector and his wife divided 
 in their sympathies between the two. As a rule it 
 would seem that the Elector Ernest sided with his 
 son George; the Electress Sophia was most cer- 
 tainly a partisan of her grandson Dapper George. 
 All these unfortunate differences were intensified 
 rather than soothed by the arrival of Dapper 
 George's bride, the brilliant Princess Caroline of 
 Anspach. One is rather sorry on the whole for 
 the elder George. He was of a silent, inarticulate 
 character, but an able man who in political matters 
 acted straightforwardly and with a wise caution, 
 and a fair estimate of his whole career will accept 
 him as a reliable, honest prince. He had his 
 private faults, of course, but they were those of 
 his house and of his times, and he cannot be said 
 to have had the best of luck with his womenkind. 
 Whatever the merits or demerits of his wife's affair 
 with Konigsmark, his treatment of that hapless 
 lady, up to a point at least, was justified by the 
 usage of his rank and hers. Princesses are not 
 permitted the liberties which are allowed to ladies 
 of lower station, and the appearance which her 
 conduct bore to the world after the death of Ko- 
 nigsmark, as well as her refusal of all compromise, 
 made a separation inevitable. 
 
 27
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 After that separation George was content to 
 amuse himself with those appanages of the court 
 which were an accepted part of the Electoral 
 establishment, of whom the harridan Platen, his 
 father's favourite, was a type. England later 
 was familiar with two of those ladies, Melusina 
 Schulemberg, and the Countess Kielmansegge ; 
 its peerage, in fact, was adorned by both, under 
 the titles of Duchess of Kendal and Countess of 
 Darlington respectively. George, at Hanover, 
 was quite content with the society of these ladies, 
 and wished only to be left undisturbed with them, 
 with his beer and tobacco, of which he was inordi- 
 nately fond, and to the rather drowsy and slow- 
 going life which he loved. 
 
 Suddenly into this establishment comes the bril- 
 liant Caroline, devoted to her husband, Dapper 
 George, espousing his side of the paternal feud 
 with the greatest spirit, and prepared on every 
 occasion to make all sorts of fun at her father-in- 
 law, his ugly mistresses, his beer-drinking and his 
 tobacco-smoking ; his taciturnity all the while help- 
 less against her sallies. His own mother, too, the 
 old Electress Sophia, a lady of the very greatest 
 importance as a granddaughter of James the First 
 of England, through whom his house was presently 
 to be exalted to the British throne, was already 
 more than partial to his sharp-tongued daughter- 
 in-law. We have seen that she inspired the young 
 lady to reject suitors like the Kaiser of Austria, 
 and had reserved her for her own grandson, the 
 
 28
 
 A ROYAL FEUD AND ITS VICTIM 
 
 Dapper one. One cannot doubt which side the 
 Electress took in those distressful family quarrels. 
 One may imagine, then, with great probability, 
 that George had but a poor time of it between 
 these royal ladies, and that that was a genuine 
 cry of anguish which came from his taciturn soul 
 when he spoke of his daughter-in-law as "cette 
 diablesse Madame la Princesse." 
 
 To Dapper George and his Princess in such 
 surroundings came little Frederick in 1707, and it 
 is more than probable that his early memories were 
 identified with this atmosphere of domestic strife, 
 which was destined to bear fruit of the same kind 
 in his relations with his own parents in years to 
 come. But at this moment the little flaxen-haired 
 Fred was a personage of the highest consideration, 
 as a link in the chain of direct descent of his 
 family, a family which at length was clearly de- 
 stined to greater things than at one time seemed 
 probable. Poor Queen Anne's endless maternal 
 troubles had all proved in vain when her little son 
 the Duke of York died at eleven years of age in 
 1700, and the English people had decided by a 
 solemn instrument that she should be succeeded in 
 the throne by the Electoral family of Hanover, in 
 virtue of their descent from James the First through 
 the old Electress Sophia. These prospects gave 
 a distinct increase of consideration to the Bruns- 
 wicks among the German courts of their neigh- 
 bours, and, indeed, throughout Europe. Hanover 
 was only one among those numerous German 
 
 29
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 states and principalities whose chief importance 
 in an international aspect lay in their possession 
 of a vote in the election of the Kaiser of the 
 Reich. Hanover had not yet attained to the 
 dignity of a kingdom, like Prussia, Bavaria, or 
 Saxony. The act of settlement, therefore, which 
 ensured the throne of the powerful and, above all, 
 rich, nation of England to the Electoral family 
 of one of the less important German states added 
 much to its dignity. That dignity was not less- 
 ened by the fact that it was reasonably secure. 
 There were three generations of Brunswicks alive 
 when Frederick was born, the eldest, his grand- 
 father, being little past his prime, and the addition 
 of Frederick to the line of his fathers was hailed 
 by all parties interested as a very auspicious event. 
 It is well to remember little Frederick's exact 
 value in the Brunswick succession, in view of the 
 scant consideration he received from his own 
 parents in later years. 
 
 That want of consideration showed itself first, 
 perhaps, when, upon the death of Queen Anne, 
 and the accession of George the First to the throne, 
 Frederick's father and mother followed the King 
 to England, and left the boy of seven to the care 
 of his nurses at Hanover. There were, doubtless, 
 reasons for leaving themselves unencumbered 
 upon their first arrival in this country. But it 
 seems a little harsh and unnatural to have allowed 
 their eldest son to grow to manhood without set- 
 ting eyes upon him after his seventh year : neither 
 
 30
 
 A ROYAL FEUD AND ITS VICTIM 
 
 George nor Caroline again met Frederick until he 
 came over to England as Prince of Wales after 
 his father's accession. Meanwhile, the feud be- 
 tween George Prince of Wales, and his father the 
 King broadened and deepened. Their relations 
 had been going from bad to worse during the last 
 years at Hanover; George the elder had been 
 reasonably perturbed by a feminine intrigue of 
 the old Electress, who proposed to the Whig party 
 in this country that the hopeful son, who had 
 already been created Duke of Cambridge in the 
 House of Peers, should visit Queen Anne and 
 publicly take his seat in that house; that the 
 English people, in fact, should have the first 
 glimpse of their future rulers in the person of the 
 Dapper George with the fine leg and whatever 
 graces youth could lend to his little person, before 
 his silent and unattractive parent had ever ap- 
 peared before his prospective subjects at a public 
 function of any kind. The Elector, as well as 
 Queen Anne, forbade the proposal, and it was 
 promptly abandoned. 
 
 The unfortunate strife between these two 
 Georges was, of course, common knowledge in 
 Hanover, and the elder had not occupied the 
 throne a twelvemonth before their relations were 
 conspicuous to the whole of England as well. 
 There was first of all a contest as to the allowance 
 of the Prince, now a personage of great import- 
 ance, with an amazingly clever wife, who had 
 already presented an appreciative nation with an
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 heir to the throne, and so relieved it of any anxiety 
 as to questions of the succession, always trouble- 
 some, and generally dangerous, as England and 
 Europe knew to their cost. Although the Prince 
 was kept under the royal eye, so to speak, by 
 reason of the old Hanoverian arrangement by 
 which the young couple dwelt under the same roof 
 with his Majesty at St. James's, he still managed 
 to attract what the King thought an undue share 
 of attention. His Majesty would have wished to 
 have the matter of the Prince's allowance left in 
 his own hands, as a means of keeping some little 
 control over the doings of his son and daughter-in- 
 law; and the Whig party, as in duty bound, were 
 quite prepared to see eye to eye with his Majesty 
 in that affair. But his Majesty was soon to learn 
 the blessings of a parliamentary system which 
 prevailed in a country of which he was constitu- 
 tional monarch, and of which the body pleasantly 
 known as "His Majesty's Opposition " is an im- 
 portant element. .These gentlemen, being of the 
 Tory complexion, quite naturally sympathized 
 with the heir-apparent in the matter of pocket- 
 money, with the result that that royal gentleman 
 was voted the comfortable sum of 100,000 per 
 annum. 
 
 Then the King, with the cares of Hanover still 
 upon his shoulders, went back to that country in the 
 first year of his English reign, and unguardedly 
 appointed the Prince regent during his absence. 
 This brought the Regent much in the public eye, 
 
 32
 
 A ROYAL FEUD AND ITS VICTIM 
 
 who was, naturally enough, happy to make the 
 most of his opportunity. Dapper George made 
 great strides in public favour, we read, displayed 
 his little figure to the best advantage on all public 
 occasions, and strutted and played Prince Charm- 
 ing to admiration. His Princess, too, with parts 
 immeasurably superior to those of her vain little 
 husband, was fully endowed with the graces and 
 charm which belong to her sex and station, and 
 became hugely popular with the good British 
 public. The poor King in Hanover was almost 
 forgotten, and came back quite sore at the place 
 he found occupied by his son, who during his 
 father's absence received all the credit for the 
 settlement of the Jacobite Rebellion of 1715. 
 There followed suspicion and hostility on both 
 sides, every matter of ceremonial and etiquette 
 was an occasion for the display of ill feeling. 
 Behind each of the men was his womenkind, whose 
 influence was not exerted in the cause of peace, 
 we may be sure. King George had brought with 
 him from Hanover the ladies Schulenberg and 
 Kielmansegge, upon whom, in the fashion of those 
 times, he had bestowed comfortable pensions and 
 sinecure offices upon this or that establishment, 
 and who presided over his household, and were his 
 chief companions and confidantes. So complete, 
 indeed, was their reign in his domestic affairs that 
 between them they shared the whole of the per- 
 sonal jewels left by Queen Anne; and Queen 
 Caroline, when she came to the throne with her 
 
 33
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 husband a few years later, found only a single 
 necklace, of no great value, of which to take 
 possession. 
 
 Opposed to this establishment, and under the 
 same roof, was that of the Prince with the witty, 
 sharp-tongued Princess at its head, and it is easy 
 to imagine the friction between the two households 
 that followed. It is true that the Prince was 
 shortly to develop a reputation for gallantry be- 
 side which his royal father's fredaines were pale 
 and ineffectual. He was, indeed, already making 
 eyes at this or that lady of his wife's little court, 
 the charming Mary Bellenden, for instance, who 
 sent him about his business in double-quick time, 
 or Mrs. Howard, who suffered him more gladly. 
 But at present there was the appearance of de- 
 corum, at least, in his domestic arrangements, 
 which made his wife's attitude towards those of 
 the King intelligible, if not altogether justifiable. 
 In any case, there was a state of affairs at St. 
 James's between the silent King with his stolid 
 companions on the one hand, and the Prince and 
 "cette diablesse Madame la Princesse" on the 
 other, which was clearly intolerable. .When one 
 remembers, also, that the Prince had a real griev- 
 ance against the King, in the suppression of the 
 Electress Sophia's will by the elder George, a 
 will in which he believed himself to have been 
 handsomely remembered, there is little wonder 
 that the relation of the two came to open rupture 
 at last. George and his Princess, in fact, were 
 
 34
 
 A ROYAL FEUD AND ITS VICTIM 
 
 told plainly to go, and St. James's knew them no 
 more, to their own and King George's inexpres- 
 sible relief, no doubt. So the younger George re- 
 moved the Princess and her ladies and his dapper 
 self to Leicester House in Leicester Fields, where 
 he kept a little court of his own Leicester House, 
 which stood near the corner of Cranbrook Street 
 in Leicester Square, and was called the "pouting- 
 place for princes," because, as we shall see later, 
 Frederick came to the same place in the same 
 dudgeon when he had quarrelled with his royal 
 father. 
 
 These royal bickerings, patent enough to the 
 public already by the removal of the Prince from 
 St. James's, were destined, three years later, to 
 reach a point of acerbity which set all the courts 
 of Europe laughing. Princess Caroline lay by 
 in 1717, and there was a function at the christen- 
 ing of her little son which necessitated the meet- 
 ing of the opposed courts at Leicester House. 
 Prince George had views of his own as to the 
 godfathers for his little son, and wished his uncle, 
 the Bishop of Osnaburgh, to be one, as a person- 
 age of a suitable eminence for so important an 
 occasion. That wish, in the circumstances, was 
 quite sufficient for the King to decide otherwise. 
 So he cast about him and selected the Duke of 
 Newcastle, a young nobleman of twenty-eight, 
 and of great consideration in point of family and 
 influence, it is true, but not the sort of godfather 
 that the Prince desired for his child. So George 
 C2 35
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 decided to protest, and he made his protest in 
 very characteristic fashion. The royal party was 
 assembled in the Princess's bedroom for the cere- 
 mony, the King and his court, with the godfathers, 
 on one side of the bed, the Prince and the Prin- 
 cess's ladies on the other. No sooner had the 
 Archbishop spoken the last words of the service 
 than Prince George ran round the foot of the bed, 
 shook his fist in the Duke of Newcastle's face 
 under the very nose of the King, and spluttered 
 in a towering passion, " You are a villain, and I 
 shall find you " ; meaning in his imperfect 
 English, that he would find a time to be even 
 with him. Never was such a to do; the King 
 ordered the Prince to be put under arrest in 
 his own house, and Lady Suffolk, coming to 
 the Princess's bedchamber next morning, had a 
 halberd pointed at her breast by a sentry at the 
 door. 
 
 Such was the family strife in which Frederick 
 was born and in which he was reared, that weary 
 tradition which he inherited and from which he 
 suffered. We have done at last with the disputes 
 between the two first Georges, a bare recital of 
 which was necessary in order to make plain the 
 difficulties with which Frederick himself had to 
 contend in later years. That there has been no 
 exaggeration of these differences by the numerous 
 gossiping writers who have reported them seems 
 clear, if only from the fact that when the second 
 George came to the throne his wife, looking 
 
 36
 
 A ROYAL FEUD AND ITS VICTIM 
 
 through her father-in-law's private papers, found 
 among them a proposal in black and white from 
 Berkley, the Lord of the Admiralty, that the 
 Prince should be spirited away to the plantations 
 and never heard of again. George the First was 
 too humane a man to entertain such a proposal, 
 but the paper remained as a witness to the aspect 
 in which the royal discord was regarded by others, 
 and as a standing accusation against Berkley, who 
 naturally received scant favour when the Prince 
 came to the throne. 
 
 Frederick all this time was growing up with his 
 governors at Herrenhausen, a light-haired, rather 
 weak sort of youth by all accounts, totally neg- 
 lected by his parents, as it would seem. Details 
 of his early youth are quite lacking, but there is 
 little doubt that as he grew up he began to try 
 to improve upon the example set him by his fore- 
 bears, and that he ran through the gamut of such 
 forbidden pleasures as Hanover and his oppor- 
 tunities of evading his governors and tutors 
 afforded. In any case, he is reported as leading 
 "an extremely dissolute life." Small as was the 
 consideration .bestowed by George and Caroline 
 upon Frederick's upbringing, they were none the 
 less fully conscious of the place he held in the 
 succession of their family, and Frederick could 
 have been little more than seven years of age 
 when his parents began casting about for a pro- 
 spective bride for him, and their matrimonial 
 schemes eventually took a very ambitious shape. 
 
 37
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 Little Frederick, indeed, was to be a chief per- 
 sonage in the famous Double Marriage project, 
 which was to unite the two great Protestant houses 
 of Britain and Prussia. The scheme had been 
 approved in general terms by the heads of both 
 houses since the early days of Dapper George's 
 marriage to Caroline and that of his sister Sophia 
 to Frederic Wilhelm of Prussia. This abstract 
 aspiration was, of course, greatly strengthened by 
 the arrival of heirs in both families. George and 
 Caroline had in due time a son and daughter, 
 Frederick and Amelia; the Prussian royal house 
 was similarly blessed in the persons of Frederic, 
 Crown Prince, and his sister IWilhelmina. With 
 the arrival of this new and complete generation 
 of both houses upon the scene, the rather nebulous 
 idea of the Double Marriage assumed a more 
 defined shape. Frederick of England was to 
 marry little Wilhelmina; Frederic of Prussia his 
 little cousin Amelia of England. The scheme 
 became an accepted thing between the two houses, 
 acquiesced in by the heads of both, and promoted 
 especially by Sophia of Prussia, who from the 
 first had set her heart upon seeing Wilhelmina 
 Queen of England. 
 
 Frederick was thus provided with a romance 
 from his earliest childhood, which, as he grew up, 
 he accepted with ardour; he began to fancy him- 
 self in love with the little cousin he had never 
 seen, wrote little love-letters to her and made her 
 little presents. Little Wilhelmina, too, according 
 
 38
 
 to her own account, accepted the situation with a 
 proper maidenly demureness; took Frederick's 
 little presents along with her dolls and other 
 playthings as a child, and as she grew into girl- 
 hood, assumed a sort of indifferent acquiescence 
 in what she considered was a settled destiny. 
 Her mother, however, lost no opportunity of im- 
 pressing her with the advantages of the match. 
 As Frederick came to manhood, and the reports 
 of his sad doings at Hanover reached the Prussian 
 court, Wilhelmina would listen to such counsel 
 from her mother as this : " He is a prince, that 
 Frederick, who has a good heart, but whose genius 
 is rather small; rather ugly than not, and a little 
 misshapen. But if you can only bring yourself 
 to bear his follies, you will be able to govern him 
 entirely, and when his father dies, you will be 
 more king than he. You will give laws to the 
 nation, and it will be you who will decide on the 
 greater matter of the happiness of Europe." 
 
 The matter thus tacitly accepted by both 
 families went but lamely, nevertheless, after 
 George the First came to England as king. In 
 the first place, the prospective brides and bride- 
 grooms were at present in long clothes or short 
 petticoats, and silent and cautious George very 
 plausibly took that incontestable fact as a valid 
 reason for being in no indecent hurry in the 
 matter. Then, again, there was the uncomfortable 
 posture of affairs between himself and Dapper 
 George. .Why should he take all kinds of trouble 
 
 39
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 about that son's affairs when the reprobate and 
 his sharp-tongued wife were thwarting his Majesty 
 at every turn, stealing popularity from under his 
 very nose, and making fun of his honest Kendals 
 and Darlingtons? Treaties for the marriage of 
 princes and princesses, moreover, involved all 
 sorts of troublesome arrangements with stingy 
 English parliaments, of which the poor King was 
 learning by bitter experience. Were there not all 
 sorts of murmurings at the provision for his 
 Majesty's own needs; at the modest allowances 
 for the Kendals and Darlingtons? What would 
 such niggard political hucksters find to say if he 
 entered into treaties requiring settlements for the 
 marriages of his grandson and granddaughter, the 
 one playing with his rocking-horse at Herren- 
 hausen, the other squalling in her nurse's arms at 
 St. James's ? " Let them wait," he said to every 
 proposal; "the parties were young enough, let 
 them wait." These were surely valid reasons for 
 the cautious George's hesitation in the matter, and 
 we need not search for others, or take much heed 
 of Wilhelmina's very feminine suggestion, which 
 she recorded in those diverting Memoirs, written 
 as an elderly lady, from which we draw most of 
 our information, that when Grandpapa George 
 came to the English throne and ruled that great 
 and rich country, he was inclined to look down 
 upon Prussia and its court. 
 
 Dapper George and Caroline do not seem to 
 have worried much in the matter, and were content 
 
 40
 
 A ROYAL FEUD AND ITS VICTIM 
 
 to let it rest ; indeed, they were in no position with 
 the King to make any other course effective. But 
 it was quite different with Queen Sophia at Berlin. 
 That restless lady never let an opportunity pass 
 of doing all she could to forward the matter. She 
 preached it into her daughter's ears with such 
 eloquence and constancy that Wilhelmina never 
 doubted the matter was a fixed thing, and at the 
 age of fifteen began to look forward to the pos- 
 sibilities of her future position. When King 
 George came over to Herrenhausen Queen Sophia 
 would go to visit him there from Berlin, button- 
 hole her father and draw him apart to discuss the 
 project. But Papa George was not to be driven. 
 It was a fixed thing, he said, but not to be hurried, 
 and he would turn the subject by taking his 
 daughter to the window and asking her if she did 
 not think the Herrenhausen gardens, with their 
 clipped beech hedges and Leibnitz waterworks, 
 very fine. As a fact, nothing was done during 
 George's life, and when death seized him in his 
 coach on the way to Osnaburgh in 1727, the 
 Double Marriage was hardly less nebulous than 
 when it took a misty shape at Hanover twenty 
 years earlier. 
 
 Frederick was now twenty, still living at Han- 
 over, with no other control from his parents than 
 the doling out of the funds which supported his 
 modest retinue; they had not seen him, indeed, 
 for twelve years, and, so far as is known, the 
 young Prince had been mewed up at Herren-
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 hausen and had never left his native place during 
 that period. But at twenty most youths of spirit, 
 in whatever rank of life, find means of escaping 
 from the thraldom of tutors and governors, and 
 Frederick being no exception to the rule, was 
 living his own life at Hanover with no particular 
 credit to himself or his family, a state of things 
 to be deplored, but not wondered at. The pro- 
 jected wedding with Wilhelmina meanwhile began 
 to excite his youthful imagination, and he seems 
 to have worked himself up into as ardent a pas- 
 sion as was possible in the absence of the young 
 lady and his total ignorance of her charms and 
 personality. He found all the help he could hope 
 for from his aunt Queen Sophia at Berlin. What- 
 ever the signs of languor among the other parties 
 to the compact, there was no loosening of purpose 
 on the part of that lady, with whom every sigh of 
 the love-lorn Frederick found a sympathetic echo. 
 There was even a confidential correspondence 
 between the two, in which it is said that Frederick 
 proposed to rush off privately to Berlin, marry 
 his Wilhelmina secretly offhand, and leave the 
 potentates of both families to adjust matters after- 
 wards as they could. Some colour was given to 
 the rumour by the sudden imprisonment of one 
 of Frederick's emissaries in that city for some 
 unknown offence which was never made public, 
 but there was no truth in it. Frederick, however, 
 undoubtedly wrote in very ardent fashion to his 
 aunt Sophia, who very thoughtfully burned his 
 
 42
 
 Frederick Prince of Wales
 
 A ROYAL FEUD AND ITS VICTIM 
 
 letters as soon as read, and she displayed the 
 greatest anxiety to see him at the Prussian court 
 as the accepted lover of her Wilhelmina. 
 
 The visit of the King of Saxony to Berlin in 
 May of 1728 seemed to promise a great oppor- 
 tunity for that auspicious event, and it would 
 appear that Queen Sophia and Frederick had 
 some understanding on the subject, for Wilhel 
 mina says, not without a touch of humour, that 
 during the preparations for the festival her mother 
 "took every ass and mule for his Royal High- 
 ness." Dubourgay, the English Minister in Ber- 
 lin, faithfully reported every rumour to the like 
 effect, which may have had the result of preventing 
 the visit. In any case it never took place, and 
 Frederick himself was removed from the danger 
 zone by being ordered to join his parents in Eng- 
 land. He arrived at St. James's in February of 
 1729 after a journey which was kept almost a 
 secret, and his marriage with Wilhelmina was as 
 far off as ever. 
 
 It is true that things looked more prosperous in 
 the following year, when an English envoy, Sir 
 Charles Hotham, went over to Berlin with the idea 
 of coming to some arrangement on the whole subject 
 of the Double Marriage. Frederick now was more 
 impatient than ever for the match, could not con- 
 tain his ardour, in fact, and wrote very pressing 
 letters to Sir Charles : " I conjure you, my dear 
 Hotham," said he, " to get these negotiations fin- 
 ished; I am madly in love (amoreux comme un 
 
 43
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 fou), and my impatience is unequalled." Wilhel- 
 mina thought these sentiments very romantic from 
 a young man who had never seen her, and was 
 inclined to make fun of him and his vows, or at 
 least said she was, when later she came to write an 
 account of that tender passage. But most of her 
 people thought the matter settled. There were 
 daily conferences between Frederic Wilhelm 
 and Hotham, and after one of these the King com- 
 manded that gentleman and the British ambas- 
 sador to stay to dinner at Potsdam palace, where, 
 as the former records, they all got immoderately 
 drunk. The King, thinking the matter as good as 
 arranged, could not conceal his joy, filled his glass, 
 and drank to Wilhelmina, Princess of Wales. The 
 very servants pricked up their ears at this, and one 
 of them went off at full gallop with the news to 
 Berlin Schloss, where the Queen was sitting with 
 her ladies. One of these rushed up to Wilhel- 
 mina's room with the joyful news. " Is that all ? " 
 was that young lady's comment, according to her 
 own account. But the Queen addressed her as 
 Princess of Wales, and her lady in waiting as " my 
 lady," until the sagacious Fraulein Sonsfield sug- 
 gested it might be as well to wait for such titles 
 until the King had proclaimed the matter settled ; 
 very good advice as it turned out, for a grievous 
 hitch had already occurred in the negotiations. 
 
 There were several explanations for this unfor- 
 tunate interruption, but there is little doubt that it 
 originated with Frederick's father at St. James's. 
 
 44
 
 A ROYAL FEUD AND ITS VICTIM 
 
 In the light of later events, it is quite clear that 
 Dapper George had no particular wish to see 
 Frederick settled, at present, at least; he had a 
 second and favourite son in the Duke of Cumber- 
 land for one thing, and the hereditary jealousy of a 
 Brunswick King for a Brunswick Prince of Wales 
 had already begun to operate upon his mind. 
 Then he and his brother-in-law at Berlin had 
 already points of difference : they had long ago 
 been exchanging abusive nicknames, as we have 
 seen ; Frederic Wilhelm, it is said, had never for- 
 given George for marrying Caroline, whom he 
 wanted for himself, and he was at no pains to con- 
 ceal his low estimation of her husband's parts. 
 Now that George was King of England the thought 
 of the poor opinion of his ability which prevailed 
 at Berlin was little soothing to his royal dignity, a 
 quality upon which he set great store. Politically, 
 too, Prussia, under Frederic Wilhelm's very able 
 government, was daily becoming of more and more 
 consideration among the nations of Europe, in 
 whose counsels Hanover was almost a negligible 
 quantity. There were endless minor points of 
 difference between the two kings. In the recruit- 
 ing of his famous regiment of Potsdam Guards, 
 which was Frederic Wilhelm's pet hobby, he was 
 accustomed to ride that hobby roughshod over the 
 feelings, as well as the frontiers, of his neighbours. 
 Hanover, and many another State, had grievous 
 complaints to make at Berlin at regular and fre- 
 quent intervals about this or that honest subject of 
 
 45
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 theirs who, unhappy in his inches, had been 
 "recruited" for Berlin in circumstances which 
 amounted to kidnapping of the most unblushing 
 kind. One of Frederic's agents once came upon a 
 village carpenter of seven feet and over whom he 
 determined to procure for his master's corps of 
 giants. He ordered from the carpenter a chest 
 exactly seven feet six inches long. The chest was 
 finished and delivered by the artisan. " You have 
 made it too short," said the officer. " No, sir," 
 replied the carpenter, " I myself am seven foot 
 three and I could lie down in it at ease." ' I can- 
 not believe it," said the agent, " unless I see you 
 do it." The man lay down in the chest, the agent 
 popped on the lid, screwed it down, put it on a 
 cart, and drove it a few miles over the frontier 
 into Prussia, where he found his " recruit " suffo- 
 cated for want of air. There were other griev- 
 ances also between these two masterful brothers- 
 in-law. They had a long-standing dispute as to 
 the ownership of certain meadows lying on the 
 borders of their territories, insignificant in point of 
 size and value, but a very precious bone of conten- 
 tion between the two monarchs, over which they 
 disputed like two angry farmers. As the grass 
 ripened in these meadows one would steal a march 
 on the other by having it cut without notice, put on 
 carts, carried over the border, and made into hay 
 on his own territory. So angry did they get about 
 these measures that Frederic proposed to challenge 
 George to single combat, and was only dissuaded 
 
 46
 
 A ROYAL FEUD AND ITS VICTIM 
 
 by his ministers, who said, truly enough, that he 
 would make himself the laughing-stock of Europe. 
 Finally Frederic Wilhelm had a son, the not- 
 able youth who in due time became Frederic the 
 Great, and who was, of course, an important figure 
 in the Double Marriage project, but with whom 
 he was on the worst of terms. The youth of Fred- 
 eric is a part of the history of the world. The 
 discipline that hapless boy received at this time 
 would be past belief were it not recorded in the 
 diplomatic correspondence of every court in 
 Europe. Frederic was knocked down and caned 
 by the paternal hand; the crockery would fly at 
 him at meal-times, urged by the same force ; worst 
 of all, he would hear from the royal lips that a lad 
 of any spirit would blow his brains out rather 
 than submit to such treatment. Frederic of 
 Prussia, like Frederick of England, had his ro- 
 mance provided for him by the Double Marriage 
 project, and his cousin Amelia was much in his 
 thoughts during those heavy years. He decided, 
 indeed, to fly to his aunt Caroline to escape from 
 the paternal chastisement, was caught in the act, 
 court-martialled as a deserter, and, it is said, sen- 
 tenced to death. His companion and helpmate 
 did suffer the penalty. Here, in fine, was a state 
 of things in Prussia between father and son which 
 promised no hymeneal raptures as a solution. 
 Frederic, willing enough for Fred of England 
 to marry Wilhelmina, would hear nothing at pre- 
 sent with regard to Fred of Prussia and cousin 
 
 47
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 Amelia. George chose to say " both or none," and 
 to stand by it, and the Double Marriage project 
 was at an end at last. Frederic Wilhelm sealed 
 the matter by at once looking out for a husband for 
 Wilhelmina, and gave her to choose between a 
 convent and centain elderly royal but disreput- 
 able bridegrooms whom he indicated. He relented 
 a little, however, and on the 27th of May 1731, 
 .Wilhelmina was betrothed, and later married, to a 
 very personable young prince from Baireuth, lived 
 an obscure but not unhappy life at that little court, 
 and wrote her Memoirs in her later days which 
 were published in French in 1811, and are very 
 excellent reading. 
 
 We have gone forward a little to attend the 
 obsequies of poor Frederick's romance, and must 
 return two years to watch his arrival in England 
 and his establishment in leading-strings at St. 
 James's. We probably know as much of the 
 Prince up to the age of two-and-twenty to-day as 
 any one in England at that time, including even 
 his own parents. One or two English travellers 
 had seen him at Herrenhausen. Lord Hervey, his 
 enemy of later years, when making the grand tour, 
 paid his respects to the little Prince of nine, and 
 gave his father, Lord Bristol, " a lively description 
 of the blooming beauties of his person and char- 
 acter," which is in refreshing contrast to anything 
 he wrote of his Prince later. Lady Mary Wortley 
 Montagu, too, formed a similarly favourable esti- 
 mate of the boy about the same time ; she thought 
 
 48
 
 "our young Prince has all the accomplishments 
 possible at his age, with an air of sprightliness 
 and understanding, and something so very engag- 
 ing and easy in his behaviour that he needs not 
 the advantage of his rank to appear charming." 
 Those were almost the only panegyrics that were 
 ever written of poor Fred, and we record them, 
 therefore, if only as curiosities. 
 
 There was no state or ceremony whatever about 
 the Prince's journey to England, and Frederick 
 came to the country of which he was heir to the 
 throne with as little notice as any private gentle- 
 man returning from the grand tour. He seems to 
 have created a favourable impression upon his 
 first appearance ; Lady Bristol wrote to her lord at 
 Ickworth, after seeing him, that he was " the most 
 agreeable young man it was possible to imagine," 
 and that she believed " the world never produced 
 a royal family so happy in one another." 
 
 Unfortunately, however, these appearances were 
 absolutely at variance with the real facts, and the 
 Prince had not been in this country for three 
 months before he and his father were on the worst 
 of terms. 
 
 A great mystery has been made about the origin 
 of this unfortunate dissension, but a consideration 
 of all the evidence now available will make it 
 fairly clear. We have, perhaps, hinted at a 
 primary cause in describing the relations between 
 George the First and George the Second, and 
 that traditional jealousy of the heir-apparent by 
 D 49
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 the reigning king must certainly be taken into 
 account. The King would not hear of Frederick's 
 coming to England until he was forced to send 
 for him. Walpole, in George the First's time, had 
 told that monarch that if Frederick were not 
 brought over during his reign he would never set 
 foot on these shores, and it was only upon the 
 minister's representation to George the Second 
 that there would be a popular tumult and an 
 address from Parliament to the Crown if the 
 Prince's coming were longer delayed, that George 
 at length gave way and sent for him. Horace 
 Walpole and Lord Hervey both wrote very 
 mysteriously of some " disgraceful truths " about 
 the Prince as a cause for ill-feeling between father 
 and son ; Lord Chancellor Hardwicke was quoted 
 as telling Sir Robert Walpole "of certain pas- 
 sages between the King and himself, and between 
 the Queen and the Prince, as of too high and 
 secret a nature even to be trusted" to his 
 memoirs. There was much head-shaking about 
 this by Horace and others, who hinted at some 
 enormity committed by the youthful Prince at 
 Hanover. As a matter of fact, there is the strong- 
 est reason to believe that the " high and secret " 
 matter mentioned by Lord Hardwicke was the 
 failure of a proposal of George the Second to cut 
 off Frederick from the succession of the English 
 throne; to leave him the petty kingdom of Han- 
 over, in fact, and give his younger brother, the 
 Duke of Cumberland, the English crown. George 
 
 50
 
 A ROYAL FEUD AND ITS VICTIM 
 
 had broached this precious scheme to the old King 
 in 1725, who would have none of it. Frederick 
 was old enough to judge for himself, he said, and 
 unless he consented to forego his right to the 
 English succession nothing could be done. In 
 the face of these facts it is useless to point to 
 Frederick's life at Hanover as the cause of 
 George's hatred of his son. We must remember 
 that his excesses there were the natural result of 
 his being left alone without a sight of his parents 
 for thirteen years, and whatever his offence, it was 
 a youthful folly at its worst. Moreover, it did not 
 lie in George the Second's mouth to preach ser- 
 mons of morality and to deliver homilies upon 
 the shortcomings of a son whose upbringing from 
 the age of childhood he had left to tutors and 
 governors. Indeed, there is no reason to believe 
 that he did so, and the mysterious offence of 
 Frederick's youth at which Horace Walpole shook 
 his head was, in fact, the failure of his father's 
 scheme for disinheriting him in favour of his 
 brother William. A better judge than Horace 
 Walpole, and one possessed of later and fuller 
 information, John Wilson Croker, was of that 
 opinion. 
 
 Ferderick thus came to England under no 
 very favourable auspices, and it cannot be said 
 that the nature of his reception at court held out 
 much promise of an improvement. He was duly 
 created Prince of Wales in January of 1729, but 
 it proved a somewhat empty title, shorn as it was 
 D2 51
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 of much of the dignity of that illustrious position. 
 He was given a suite of rooms at St. James's under 
 the same roof with his parents, which precluded 
 any idea of a real court of his own, and his allow- 
 ance was fixed by George at the paltry sum of 
 26,000 a year, and that not as a right, but as a 
 voluntary payment subject to withdrawal at the 
 King's pleasure. Frederick not unnaturally re- 
 sented this treatment. 'The King's civil list had 
 been settled on an unprecedentedly liberal scale 
 by Walpole, who had secured his power by out- 
 bidding Compton on the King's accession, and 
 provided 830,000 for George, and a separate 
 jointure of 100,000 for Queen Caroline. It was 
 a distinctly understood thing when the list was 
 settled that it included 100,000 for the Prince, 
 and there is little wonder that he made a grievance 
 at his shabby treatment in the matter and at the 
 King's refusal to pay the debts he left behind him 
 at Hanover, or that he chafed at the state of 
 tutelage in which he was placed by his scanty 
 income and his residence under the paternal eye 
 at St. James's. 
 
 Nor was there any disinclination on George's 
 part to provide his son with other grievances. 
 There was the notorious matter of the suppression 
 of George the First's will and that of his brother, 
 the Bishop of Osnaburgh, for instance. At the 
 first council held after the old King's death 
 George snatched up his father's will from under 
 the very nose of Archbishop Wake, who produced 
 
 52
 
 A ROYAL FEUD AND ITS VICTIM 
 
 it, put it into his pocket, and it was never seen 
 again. The council stared at each other, and 
 though they all agreed later that the royal cat 
 should be belled, no one was found with courage 
 enough to attempt the process. George the First, 
 no doubt with a remembrance of his own conduct 
 in a similar matter, had very thoughtfully de- 
 posited a duplicate of the will with the Duke of 
 Wolfenbuttel. But his son was equal to the 
 emergency. There was some diplomatic question 
 pending at the time between Hanover and that 
 duchy, and George at once instructed Newcastle, 
 his Secretary of State, to send a messenger to the 
 Duke agreeing to the treaty he wished, on his own 
 terms, in exchange for the duplicate will. Fred- 
 erick thought he might be remembered by his 
 grandfather in that document, and had a natural 
 grievance in its suppression. The matter was not 
 in the least improved when the King paid Lord 
 Chesterfield 20,000 in respect of a legacy said 
 to have been left by his father to the Duchess of 
 Kendal, whose daughter, Lady Walsingham, 
 Chesterfield married. Then the thrifty King 
 impounded Frederick's income from the Duchy 
 of Lancaster ; there had been great embezzlement 
 by a dishonest official during his own enjoyment 
 of the revenues as Prince of Wales, and he 
 thought proper to consider his deficit a first charge 
 on the duchy when it came to his son, so he inter- 
 cepted the whole income. 'As to the Bishop of 
 Osnaburgh's will, George would not produce it, 
 
 53
 
 and declared roundly that everything was left to 
 himself as nephew. But he met another masterful 
 personality in this business in Frederic of Prussia, 
 who insisted on seeing it, and rescued the jewels 
 from his relative's clutches, which he found were 
 bequeathed to his Queen. No wonder altogether 
 that Frederick felt aggrieved, and when the King 
 went a second time to Parliament about some 
 shortage which he thought he had discovered in 
 the yield of the sources of income allotted to 
 satisfy his civil list, and got the convenient Wai- 
 pole to coax the reluctant Commons into taking 
 his view of the matter, the Prince, as Hervey 
 tells us, was "extremely flippant in his comment 
 on this measure, and pretended to disapprove 
 entirely his father's conduct on this occasion." 
 
 It does not seem necessary to search further for 
 causes of dissension between father and son in 
 such circumstances as these, though there were 
 others not far away. Frederick wished for a 
 military training; it was forbidden him, and be- 
 stowed upon his brother, the Duke of Cumber- 
 land. The King went to Hanover, passed over 
 Frederick in naming the Queen as Regent, and 
 ordained that wherever her Majesty had her dwell- 
 ing, whether in London or at Kew, there must 
 Frederick be tied to her apron-string. Here, 
 surely, were all the elements of a family quarrel 
 which was likely to outvie that between Dapper 
 George and his father in virulence. If we add 
 that there was a hungry opposition almost panting 
 
 54
 
 A ROYAL FEUD AND ITS VICTIM 
 
 for the blood of the court minister, Sir Robert 
 Walpole, who was just getting comfortably seated 
 in a renewed lease of power, and hoping to use 
 the Prince as a fireship for the holy purpose of 
 blowing the minister from his anchorage; that 
 Queen Caroline, as time went on, was, if possible, 
 more set against her son than King George him- 
 self, we can picture a set of circumstances likely 
 to produce a very unedifying exhibition of the 
 traditional Brunswick rancour. As it turned out, 
 the omens were not belied, and the result ex- 
 ceeded expectation. The family feuds of the 
 Georges were certainly at high-water mark during 
 the twenty-two years of Frederick's remaining 
 life ; if is equally certain that he was not alone, or 
 even chiefly, to blame. 
 
 One would be inclined, perhaps, to consider as 
 Frederick's chief misfortune the place his enemy 
 Lord Hervey held at court. Hervey had married 
 the beauteous Mary Lepel, one of Princess Caro- 
 line's maids of honour, and on the Prince's acces- 
 sion had been taken over by Walpole as a sort of 
 court appanage, who gave him a pension of ;iooo 
 a year, and appointed him vice-chamberlain to 
 the Queen. He was on terms of the greatest 
 confidence with that royal lady, and was of the 
 greatest use to Walpole as a means of communica- 
 tion, through her, with the King. At the time of 
 the old King's death he was abroad for his health, 
 found Frederick installed at St. James's upon his 
 return, and before six months were passed was 
 
 55
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 the Prince's open and declared enemy. Hervey 
 himself never gave any reason for this quarrel, 
 but it was an open secret that Frederick, in the 
 manner of his house, had taken a certain Miss 
 Vane as his favourite with whom Hervey had 
 previously been on the same terms, and Hervey 
 repaid the injury with the greatest malignancy 
 that can be imagined. He deliberately set himself 
 to foment the differences already existing between 
 Frederick and his parents, boasted of his success 
 in presenting every action or motive of the son 
 in the worst possible light, and never lost an 
 opportunity of poisoning the Queen's mind where 
 the Prince was concerned. The one thing that 
 can be urged for Hervey is the candour with which 
 he rejects any show of impartiality. Writing of 
 himself in the third person, as was his habit, in 
 those astounding memoirs which he left to illumin- 
 ate that extraordinary court, this is what he admits 
 of his attitude towards the Prince 
 
 " The pains he (that is, himself, Lord Hervey) 
 took to bring Sir Robert Walpole into every 
 scheme to mortify the Prince, and the zeal with 
 which he laboured every project to distress 
 H.R.H., would not, I believe, if one could have 
 dived into the deepest source of every action, have 
 been found to proceed merely from his desire to 
 prevent Sir Robert losing his interest with the 
 King and Queen, any more than I imagine all the 
 severe and bitter things he said to the King and 
 Queen at this time of their son flowed solely from 
 
 56
 
 A ROYAL FEUD AND ITS VICTIM 
 
 a desire to make court to their passions, and not 
 a little to indulge the dictates of his own." 
 
 The man who writes thus of himself was he who 
 stood at the Queen's ear as long as she lived, 
 through whose malevolence every word and action 
 of the Prince was filtered, and tinctured in the 
 process, and who was his chief biographer. It 
 was, we repeat, Frederick's greatest misfortune 
 to have had this man as a devil's advocate during 
 the greater part of his life, and as the recording 
 angel of his sins. 
 
 Frederick accordingly, in such surroundings, 
 and with many grievances, real or fancied, was 
 accustomed to make the most of them, to pose in 
 public as an injured innocent, and to gain what- 
 ever access of popularity was forthcoming from 
 the circumstances in which he found himself. The 
 family secrets at St. James's were no secret in the 
 streets; the lack of funds for the princely estab- 
 lishment was advertized by the ostentatious dis- 
 missal of servants and by the borrowing of 
 prodigious sums, to be repaid when he came to the 
 crown. He would attend at a fire at dead of night, 
 carry water and handle the pumps side by side 
 with the meanest citizen, and be greeted with loud 
 cries of, " Crown him ! Crown him ! " and next 
 day the papers would give him credit for having 
 saved a whole Inn of Court from destruction. 
 Similar ovations would attend him at the play, 
 would be reported by the faithful Hervey to the 
 Queen, and cause her and her royal husband much 
 
 57
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 perturbation of spirit. Then the failure of the 
 Double Marriage project was a real grievance for 
 poor Frederick; he saw princes of other royal 
 houses of Europe settled with princesses and 
 establishments of their own, and given commands 
 in the great marchings and countermarchings 
 which were going on along the Rhine, while he 
 Was an unconsidered appanage of the English 
 court of distinctly less importance than a vice- 
 chamberlain. A wife of any sort would be some- 
 thing, he decided, so he determined to choose one 
 for himself. 
 
 There was living at that time at Marlborough 
 House the dowager Duchess of Marlborough, 
 who in old age had lost little of the spirit which 
 had distinguished the Sarah Jennings of an earlier 
 period. The Duchess was no great admirer of 
 his Majesty, whom she was accustomed to speak 
 of as "neighbour George," and was quite ready 
 to undertake to ease the Prince of his love-pains 
 by providing him with a wife and a comfortable 
 dowry. So she chose Lady Diana Spencer from 
 among her grandchildren, provided a parson, and 
 a place for the ceremony at her own lodge in 
 Windsor Great Park, and was ready with 100,000 
 for Frederick so soon as the knot was tied. Wai- 
 pole, however, got wind of the plot, and was just 
 in time to prevent its accomplishment, and Fred- 
 erick was naturally in worse odour than ever with 
 George and Caroline. 
 
 It is useless to follow the details of the differ- 
 
 58
 
 A ROYAL FEUD AND ITS VICTIM 
 
 ences that ensued as time went on, the puerile 
 disputes in which neither side appears to any 
 advantage, but in which the parents were at least 
 as much to blame as the son, who really had sub- 
 stantial grievances. The great Mr. Handel, who 
 was the Princess Royal's music master, had en- 
 gaged in Opera at the Haymarket, and must Be 
 protected and encouraged by the King and Queen 
 accordingly. This was an excellent reason for 
 Frederick to extend his favour to Mr. Handel's 
 rival, Signor Buonicini, whom he ostentatiously 
 supported at the old theatre in Lincoln's Inn 
 Fields. This discord over the rival harmonies of 
 the two virtuosos became quite important politic- 
 ally : an anti-Handelist was looked upon by the 
 court party as disloyal to the Crown, and to 
 appear at Lincoln's Inn for a peer or member of 
 the Commons was as bad as voting against his 
 Majesty in Parliament. The King would sit 
 freezing at the empty Haymarket Opera, while 
 Frederick, at the head of a great number of the 
 nobility, would preside over a much more festive 
 company to listen to Signor Buonicini's warbling 
 prima donna farther east. 
 
 So Frederick drifted farther and farther from 
 his parents. He appeared at the levees at rarer 
 and rarer intervals, and called to pay his respects 
 to his mother at intervals longer still. When he 
 did appear the worst of motives were assigned to 
 his most simple acts. If the Queen were ill he 
 only called to gloat over her state, and to calcu- 
 
 59
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 late how soon her cough would carry her off; if 
 he sought the King's presence it was only to court 
 rebuff of which to make an additional grievance 
 outside. One may read pages of these suspicions 
 solemnly recorded by Hervey, of head-waggings 
 between Queen, courtier and minister in order to 
 place Frederick at a disadvantage, and give the 
 very worst of appearances to everything he did or 
 said or thought. At length, in 1734, Frederick, at 
 the age of twenty-seven, feeling the uncertainties 
 of his position heavy upon him, resolved to make 
 a personal appeal to the King. He appeared one 
 morning accordingly at the King's apartments in 
 St. James's quite suddenly and without notice of 
 any sort, and requested an audience of his 
 Majesty. His Majesty, after consultation with 
 Walpole, graciously permitted his son to enter. 
 Frederick had three requests to lay at the royal 
 feet. He prayed to be allowed to serve a cam- 
 paign on the Rhine; to be allowed an increased 
 revenue, for he was grievously in debt ; and lastly 
 to be provided with a wife of a suitable rank in 
 order to fill the desolate places of his heart an'd 
 household. The requests seem reasonable to us, 
 but they appeared otherwise to his Majesty. To 
 the first two he deigned no reply, as to the last, he 
 intimated that it should be taken into consideration 
 when the Prince "should behave more respect- 
 fully to his mother." The whole interview, it 
 appears from Hervey, was put down to the male- 
 volent inspiration of the opposition, with a certain 
 
 60
 
 A ROYAL FEUD AND ITS VICTIM 
 
 cornet of horse, young Mr. William Pitt, at their 
 head, and as such was greatly resented by their 
 Majesties. Was ever a royal prince in so hopeless 
 a position ? 
 
 The King, however, bore the matter of the de- 
 sired princess in mind, and on one of his visits to 
 Hanover looked about for a young lady worthy 
 of the distinguished position of wife to the son 
 of whose dignity he was so careful. This fortun- 
 ate damsel turned out to be the young Princess 
 Augusta, daughter of Frederic Duke of Saxe 
 Gotha, and although at present nothing had been 
 proposed in England, George practically brought 
 that young lady back for the Prince in his pocket, 
 on his return from Hanover in October of 1735. 
 All the historians are agreed that his Majesty 
 came back in a very ill temper. As a matter of 
 fact, he had been love-making on his own account, 
 and was very sore at having to leave the object of 
 his affections, a young German lady by the name 
 of Madame de Walmoden. There had been a 
 great banquet and leave-taking at Herrenhausen, 
 at which the King swore faithfully to return in 
 the following May, and the lady had risen and 
 pledged that happy date in a bumper. But those 
 six months of waiting were not at all to the King's 
 taste, and he came back to England in the most 
 awful of rages. He fell foul of everybody, from 
 the Queen downwards. Her Majesty was accused 
 of " always stuffing herself " when he saw her take 
 her chocolate; the Duke of Cumberland was 
 
 61
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 abused because he stood awkwardly ; the Princess 
 Caroline for growing fat. Nothing in England 
 was right for him. No Englishman knew how to 
 come into a room, no Englishwoman how to dress 
 herself ; no English cook could dress a dinner, no 
 English player act, no English coachman drive, 
 no English jockey ride, no English horse was fit to 
 be ridden or driven; while at Hanover perfection 
 reigned in every aspect of life. His ministers and 
 secretaries of state were scoundrels or puppets, and 
 as for his Majesty's bishops, they were "a set of 
 black canting, hypocritical rascals." Hervey, who 
 reports these megrims of the love-smitten George, 
 owned to a friendship with Bishop Hoadley; 
 ; 'Then, my lord," says his Majesty, "you have a 
 great puppy and a very dull fellow and a great 
 rascal for your friend ; a canting, hypocritical knave 
 to be crying the kingdom of Christ at the same 
 time that he, as Christ's ambassador, receives six 
 or seven thousand a year." Hervey notes that the 
 only member of the family to escape the King's 
 wrath was Frederick himself, but he owed this 
 immunity to the fact that the King never spoke 
 of him. He would never talk of him directly, but 
 managed to get in an oblique buffet on occasion. 
 He would remark, for instance, how often worthy 
 fathers had unworthy sons ; a brave father would 
 have a son a poltroon ; a father very honest would 
 have a son a great knave; a father would be a 
 man of truth and his son a great liar; as who 
 should say what a pitiful tragedy of that very 
 
 62
 
 A ROYAL FEUD AND ITS VICTIM 
 
 kind was un'der his hearer's nose at St. James's. 
 At other times he would abuse Frederick in 
 effigy, as it were. He went to the play and saw 
 Henry IV ., in which he admitted there were some 
 very g6od players, "but as for the Prince of 
 Wales, he must own he never saw so awkward a 
 fellow and so mean a looking scoundrel in his 
 life." So the winter went on with pain and tribu- 
 lation for all who came in contact with this sore- 
 headed monarch. 
 
 It was not till February that he vouchsafed any 
 information to Frederick as to his designs for his 
 marriage. He then sent five members of the 
 council to impart the news to the Prince, who 
 made answer, " with great decency, duty and pro- 
 priety, that whoever his Majesty thought a proper 
 match for his son would be agreeable to him." So 
 Lord De la Warr was duly sent over to demand 
 the Princess in proper terms of her brother, the 
 reigning Duke. The preparations for this em- 
 bassy, and the subsequent arrangements for the 
 projected marriage, of course, consumed some 
 little time, when King George took the occasion 
 to declare in set terms to the Queen and the 
 ministers that if matters should not be arranged 
 before April was out, the wedding should either 
 be put off to the following winter or should take 
 place without his own august assistance, "for set 
 out for Hanover as soon as Parliament had risen 
 he positively would." The Queen urged the im- 
 portance of not irritating the bishops by hurrying 
 
 63
 
 them in some Church matter then before Parlia- 
 ment. " I am sick to death of all this foolish 
 stuff," replied the King, "and wish with all my 
 heart that the devil may take your bishops, and 
 the devil take your minister, and the devil take 
 the Parliament, and the devil take the whole 
 island, provided I can get out of it and go to Han- 
 over." Such was the mood for six months of this 
 elderly Cupid dying for his Psyche. 
 
 His Majesty's turbulence, perhaps, hastened 
 matters, at any rate news reached London on Sun- 
 day the 25th of April that Lord De la Warr had 
 at length reached Greenwich with the Princess, 
 where Frederick hurried to meet his bride. He 
 was charmed with the natural graces of a young 
 girl of seventeen, with the freshness and modest 
 simplicity which captivated all who saw her. The 
 young girl came from her school-room unattended 
 by a single lady, knew no soul in the country 
 where her future lot was cast, could speak no word 
 of its language. And yet her ingenuousness, her 
 obvious good-nature and wish to please, her 
 natural good breeding softened every heart and 
 silenced every envious tongue. Even the King 
 and Queen were touched with the natural courtesy 
 which urged the young girl to throw herself at full 
 length at their feet at the presentation at St. 
 James's; wonder of all, Horace Walpole forgot 
 to be captious, and Hervey laid aside his sneer in 
 writing of th*e young Princess. The Queen 
 seemed affected by the circumstances, and was a 
 
 64
 
 A ROYAL FEUD AND ITS VICTIM 
 
 little less ungracious to her son. There was little 
 time allowed for any wooing, a few trips on the 
 water by the lovers, a meal or two eaten more or 
 less in public, which interested the good British 
 people, and then the ceremony, with its four Lady 
 Carolines to attend the Princess, its drums and 
 trumpets, its salvoes of artillery to announce the 
 joyful news to the lieges, its banquets and its ad- 
 dresses in Parliament. Young Mr. Pitt was so 
 eloquent in the Commons upon the virtues of the 
 son, and, by implication, so insulting to the father, 
 that he incurred the King's lasting enmity, and at 
 the end of the session was broke. Frederick got 
 his allowance increased to ,50,000, and King 
 George, after admonishing him that where the 
 Queen resided, there must the Prince and his 
 bride pitch their own tent, again set out for his 
 seat of delight at Herrenhausen and his Wal- 
 moden, just in time to arrive on the auspicious 
 29th of May. 
 
 Frederick's married life thus began with only 
 indifferent promise of any cordial relations be- 
 tween his own and the paternal household, and 
 it cannot be said that his own conduct contributed 
 to any improvement. He was sore at being left 
 out of the regency, at being a virtual prisoner 
 under the Queen's eye, at the withholding of his 
 rightful income, and he showed his soreness in a 
 variety of petty ways. The Queen set out for 
 Richmond the morning the King left for Han- 
 over ; Frederick refused to follow her on the score 
 
 65
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 of the Princess's illness measles, a rash, a great 
 cold, as he variously reported it. Her Majesty 
 posted up from Richmond with her daughters to 
 see her daughter-in-law, but that lady keeping her 
 bed in a darkened room, her Majesty had to 
 return to Richmond little the wiser as to the true 
 state of her health. Frederick would come late to 
 the council, the Princess late to chapel, all to the 
 intense annoyance of the Queen, who was con- 
 stantly on the look-out for matter of offence, as 
 Hervey makes quite clear. The Princess, still, be 
 it remembered, a young girl, would amuse herself 
 by dressing .and undressing a doll ; the Queen 
 begged she should discontinue the process be- 
 cause it made the sentries laugh, who saw it 
 through the palace window. After entertaining 
 the young couple at dinner, the Queen would 
 ostentationsly yawn at Lord Hervey, and protest 
 that she was so fatigued at the silly gaiety of her 
 son and the stupidities of her daughter-in-law 
 "that she felt more tired than if she had carried 
 them both round the garden on her back." All 
 this, and more of the same sort, Hervey put down 
 in his record to the prejudice, as he hoped, of the 
 Prince, but he unwittingly did a greater injury to 
 his patrons by exposing the spirit which animated 
 Frederick's family in their smallest dealings with 
 him. Frederick, at the age of thirty, in fact, was 
 treated like a child, and he resented the treat- 
 ment in a rather childish manner. That seems 
 to be the worst indictment to be drawn against 
 
 66
 
 A ROYAL FEUD AND ITS VICTIM 
 
 him for his part in the puerilities of this petty 
 dispute. 
 
 Meanwhile King George, taking his pleasure at 
 Herrenhausen with the Walmoden, was becoming 
 highly unpopular with his subjects in England; 
 the streets were full of ribald jokes at his gal- 
 lantries, the broadsheets with the choicest produc- 
 tions of the makers of indecent ballads. Even 
 the precincts of the palace at St. James's were 
 profaned by the efforts of the disloyal wits. One 
 of these traitorous effusions, not at all lacking in 
 point, was found pasted on the palace gate : " 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 Churchwardens 
 of St. James's, so as he may be got again, shall 
 receive four shillings and sixpence reward. N.B. 
 This reward will not be increased, nobody 
 judging him to deserve a crown." George at 
 length, after a six months' honeymoon with the 
 Walmoden, judged it time to return to St. James's, 
 and set out in a great hurry accordingly at the end 
 of November. 
 
 There were some very exciting circumstances 
 attending his return. Sir Charles Wager com- 
 manded the royal yacht, and awaited his Majesty 
 at Helvoetsluys with a considerable squadron of 
 British men-o'-war as escort. The King arrived at 
 that port and chafed at the delay caused by con- 
 trary winds, which at length increased to a gale of 
 uncommon violence. Sir Charles said it was unsafe 
 E 2 67
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 to put to sea. " I'm not afraid," said the King. 
 " I am," said the sailor. " I'd rather be twelve 
 hours at sea than twenty-four at Helvoetsluys," 
 replied his Majesty." " You need not reckon on 
 twelve, Sir," rejoined the sailor, " four will do your 
 business." " Set sail," replied the King. " Well, 
 Sir," said the sailor, " you can oblige me to go, but 
 I can make you come back again." So it proved. 
 iThe fleet was scattered, several ships cast away 
 with many lives lost ; news reached London of the 
 disaster without any tidings of the royal yacht, 
 and England, for a period of twelve hours, be- 
 lieved that her King had perished in the North 
 Sea. Only later came the tidings that Wager had 
 navigated the yacht back to Helvoetsluys, after a 
 tossing which made "his Majesty as tame as any 
 about him," and the tamed Majesty accordingly 
 waited five weeks at the Dutch port before he 
 landed safe at Harwich early in January of 1737. 
 He was quite subdued, it was noticed, was civil 
 to the Queen and his daughters, and even kissed 
 Frederick. 
 
 These favourable signs, however, lasted for a 
 short time only; Frederick wanted money, and 
 having tried his Majesty on a former occasion with 
 ill-success, he committed the unpardonable sin 
 of going to his Majesty's opposition for assistance 
 in his needs. He chose the exact moment, too, 
 when the King, upset by the fatigues of his tem- 
 pestuous voyage, was lying by for a bit. Frederick 
 had begun canvassing among the anti-court peers, 
 
 68
 
 A ROYAL FEUD AND ITS VICTIM 
 
 and the rebellious and independent members of 
 the Commons ; one of his friends tried to engage 
 Mr. Henry Fox's interest, Mr. Fox's brother 
 Stephen was Lord Hervey's most intimate friend, 
 and naturally set off in haste to my lord with the 
 news. My lord, full of his subject, met the Queen 
 coming out of the sick chamber; her Majesty 
 would not believe it. Let Lord Weymouth see 
 Sir Robert at once, meanwhile not a word to the 
 King. Sir Robert confirmed the news, and there 
 followed a most portentous conference between 
 Queen, courtier and minister. Her Majesty was 
 quite frightened. Here was the King ill, certainly 
 unpopular on account of those dreadful doings at 
 Hanover, and Frederick chooses this moment, of 
 all others, to advertise the family quarrels and 
 play into the very hands of the Jacobites. Lord 
 Scarborough must go and dissuade him from so 
 undutiful a course. 
 
 Lord Scarborough went, but Frederick was proof 
 against his eloquence. " He did not want to dis- 
 tress his father," he said, " but he and his advisers 
 were of opinion that a yearly allowance of 
 100,000 was due to him by an Act of Parliament 
 already passed, and he saw no great crime in going 
 to that body to ask them to expound their own 
 instrument. It was not his fault, but those who 
 drove him to it; finally, the business was out of 
 of his hands already, and he could do nothing in 
 the matter." 
 
 Hervey records that at about the time of Fred- 
 69
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 erick's marriage his mother and sister were in- 
 clined to relent a little in their hostility to the 
 Prince, to find excuses for him against the cour- 
 tier's attacks, who never left him unpersecuted for 
 a single day; "Fred was not such a fool as one 
 took him for; could be very amusing, was even 
 generous at times, and his heart, like his head, 
 was both good and bad." Hervey would not 
 admit it even to the Queen and Princesses, and 
 certainly came to his justification by those ladies 
 at this distressful moment. The rancour exhibited 
 by the Queen against her son in Hervey's narra- 
 tive is amazing, and it is easy to fix the high-water 
 mark of her resentment at the moment when she 
 learned that Frederick had made a public move- 
 ment against the restraints of his position. " Her 
 invectives against her son," says Hervey, "were 
 incessant and of the strongest kind, and more 
 tears flowed on this occasion that I ever saw her 
 shed on all others put together. They neither of 
 them made much ceremony, of wishing a hundred 
 times a day that the Prince might drop down dead 
 of an apoplexy, the Queen cursing the hour of his 
 birth, the Princess Caroline, declaring she grudged 
 him every hour he continued to breathe. He loved 
 nothing but money and his own nauseous self ; was 
 the greatest liar that ever spoke, would put one 
 arm about a body's neck and stab him with the 
 other." One begins to doubt, after reading pages 
 of this sort of invective, whether Queen Caroline 
 was so happy in her vice-chamberlain after all. 
 
 70
 
 ^^/?^^^^,^%^^^^^ 
 
 y v _ 
 
 Queen Caroline as Princess of Wales
 
 A ROYAL FEUD AND ITS VICTIM 
 
 Nothing could stop Frederick, however; the 
 whole Cabinet took a written message to him from 
 the King, some half-dozen dukes and earls among 
 them. He received them very politely, thanked 
 his Majesty for any instance of goodness to him 
 and the Princess; but the matter of his allowance 
 was really out of his hands, and he must leave it 
 with his advisers. So the Pitts, Pulteneys, and 
 lesser lights of the Prince's party were very 
 eloquent in the Commons; Walpole replied not 
 very convincingly, but found a much stronger 
 argument in the lobbies, where he made certain of 
 a majority of thirty votes against Frederick. The 
 Queen naively admitted to Lord Hervey that it 
 cost much less than was expected, the King only 
 had to expend about 900 in bribes, and as he 
 saved a clear 50,000 a year by the transaction, 
 it was eminently profitable. Carteret took the 
 matter to the Lords, where the Prince was rather 
 less successful than in the Commons. So Fred- 
 erick remained a pensioner at the King's pleasure, 
 and the breach between himself and his parents 
 yawned wider than ever. 
 
 It was in July of this same year 1737, that 
 Frederick, addressing his mother by letter in the 
 French tongue, acquainted her, as in duty bound, 
 with the interesting news that his princess had 
 hopes of a family. No date was mentioned at 
 which the happy event was likely to take place, 
 and it is perhaps significant of the way in which 
 her son and his wife were regarded by the Queen
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 that both then and afterwards she professed in- 
 credulity of the news. When, however, the matter 
 was beyond doubt, Frederick was the subject of 
 the most odious suspicions at court. Both King, 
 Queen and minister all credited the Prince with 
 the infamous intention of imposing a changeling 
 on the nation. The thing would be incredible, 
 had not Hervey placed it beyond any doubt. It 
 was resolved that the King should send a message 
 to the Prince intimating his pleasure that the Prin- 
 cess should lie in at Hampton Court, and the 
 Queen expressed her positive intention of attend- 
 ing her daughter-in-law during her illness. " I 
 will be sure it is her child," she said, and she 
 emphasized her suspicions in the plainest way to 
 Walpole, who had shown no hurry in drafting the 
 King's message, by saying, " Sir Robert, we shall 
 be catched; he will remove her from Hampton 
 Court before he receives any orders, and will say 
 afterwards that he talked so publicly of his inten- 
 tions he concluded if the King had not approved 
 of them, he should have heard something of 
 it." 'Walpole replied there was plenty of time, 
 as the event was not yet expected. So the 
 message was delayed, and, indeed, never went 
 at all. 
 
 All this must be borne in mind in what followed. 
 On a Sunday, at the end of the same month, the 
 rather dull court of George the Second at Hamp- 
 ton had dispersed as usual; the King had had 
 his game of commerce, the Queen had finished 
 
 72
 
 A ROYAL FEUD AND ITS VICTIM 
 
 hers at quadrille, Lord Hervey and the Princess 
 Caroline their cribbage, and all were in bed 
 before eleven o'clock had struck. At half- 
 past one Mrs. Tichburne, the woman of the 
 bedchamber, woke the Queen by knocking at 
 her bedroom door. " Is the house on fire ? " 
 inquired her startled Majesty. " No, Ma'am," 
 replied Mrs. Tichburne ; " but the Princess is taken 
 ill." " My God ! my nightgown," says the Queen ; 
 " I'll go to her at once." " Your nightgown, 
 Madam," rejoined Mrs. Tichburne, "and your 
 coaches, too ; the Princess is at St. James's." " Are 
 you mad, or are you asleep, my good Tichburne ? 
 You dream." But good Tichburne insisted, 
 and the King, awake by this time, joined in. " You 
 see now, with all your wisdom," said his Majesty, 
 "how they have outwitted us. This is all your 
 fault. There is a false child will be put upon you, 
 and how will you answer it to all your children? 
 This has been fine care and fine management for 
 your son William. He will be mightily obliged 
 to you." The Queen dressed in haste, collected 
 the Duke of Grafton, Lord Hervey, her two 
 daughters, and Lord Essex as a messenger to 
 come back witK news to the King, and set off for 
 St, James's, where the party arrived at four o'clock 
 in the morning. 
 
 Frederick, indeed, had stolen a march upon 
 them, and this was his answer to their suspicions 
 and innuendoes. He met his mother at the top of 
 the staircase and informed her that a daughter had 
 
 73
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 been vouchsafed to him. She went to see the 
 Princess, supposed she had suffered greatly, was 
 assured that that was not the case, kissed the child, 
 and went back to Lord Hervey's apartment in the 
 palace to drink a cup of chocolate, saying, with a 
 wink at that nobleman, " You need not fear my 
 drinking anything on that side of the house," as if 
 to intimate that there might be a danger of poison 
 in her son's household. " If instead of this 
 poor ugly she-mouse," she added, "there had 
 been a brave, fat, jolly boy, I should not have 
 been cured of my suspicions; I should have 
 gone about his house like a mad woman, and 
 insisted on knowing what chairman's brat he had 
 bought." 
 
 Frederick has been much blamed for this trans- 
 action, and, if it were altogether intentional, 
 nothing in the world could excuse him for having 
 placed his young wife in such danger by that mid- 
 night journey to London. But that is by no means 
 certain. He and the Princess, who had been twice 
 deceived by false alarms during the previous 
 week, were undoubtedly taken by surprise, and it 
 seems probable that Frederick posted off in a 
 flurry where he judged the best medical advice 
 was to be had, and the Ministers of State proper to 
 the ceremony most easily summoned. Upon start- 
 ing he sent messengers to the Lord Chancellor, the 
 Archbishop of Canterbury, the President of the 
 Council and the Lord Privy Seal, and the two 
 last were at his wife's bedside at St. James's. 
 
 74
 
 A ROYAL FEUD AND ITS VICTIM 
 
 Above all, Frederick had been insulted by the 
 odious insinuation that he contemplated treason 
 to the King and the nation by imposing a change- 
 ling upon them, and, apart from the danger in 
 which he placed his wife (which, if he realized it, 
 was indeed unpardonable), his conduct is perhaps 
 deserving of less reprobation than that of the 
 court of which it was the result. But from all 
 points of view, it must be confessed, it was a sorry 
 business. 
 
 The breach now was irreparable. The Queen 
 called once more to see the Princess; the Prince 
 attended her to her carriage in the courtyard of 
 St. James's, and incurred the charge of hypocrisy 
 by kneeling in the mud to kiss her hand, in order, 
 so she said, "to appear as the dutiful son in 
 public." There followed another council of the 
 King, Queen and minister, and Frederick was 
 forbidden to come to court, or to ^ee his outraged 
 parents again. It was also intimated to him that 
 so soon as the Princess's condition would admit of 
 it, he and his belongings were to be removed from 
 St. James's. History, in fact, repeated itself, and 
 George and his son parted at St. James's on much 
 the same terms as George and his father twenty 
 years earlier. The foreign ministers were notified 
 that it would be agreeable to the King if they for- 
 bore waiting on the Prince, and the native nobility 
 and gentry were told in plain terms that whoever 
 went to the Prince would not be admitted at 
 court. Frederick was deprived of his guard of 
 
 75
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 honour, and upon the Princess's convalescence 
 went off to Leicester Fields, the " Pouting Place 
 of princes." He was forbidden to remove any 
 furniture from the palace, even chests or boxes. 
 ''' They can hardly carry away their clothes like 
 linen in a basket," suggested Lord Hervey. 
 " Why not? " replied the King ; " a basket is good 
 enough for them." So Frederick left the paternal 
 roof, and the King said, " Thank God, the puppy 
 is out of my house," and there was a final discus- 
 sion of the Prince's enormities between his parents 
 and Lord Hervey. His lordship took the occa- 
 sion to remind the Queen that she had defended 
 Frederick against his aspersions so recently only 
 as the date of his marriage. " My dear lord," 
 replied her Majesty, "I will give it under my 
 hand, if you are in any fear of my relapsing, that 
 my dear firstborn is the greatest ass, and the 
 greatest liar, and the greatest canaille, and the 
 greatest beast in the whole world, and I most 
 heartily wish he was out of it." That might 
 almost be considered her Majesty's valedictory 
 address to her son and heir; it was spoken in 
 October of 1737, and she never saw him again, for 
 on the 2Oth of the following month she was herself 
 dead. 
 
 We must not recall at any length that dreadful 
 'deathbed scene of Queen Caroline, which, as 
 related with painful minuteness by Hervey, is 
 one of the best known pages of court history. 
 Frederick sent a dutiful inquiry as to his mother's
 
 A ROYAL FEUD AND ITS VICTIM 
 
 illness ; the King forbade him to make any other, 
 and so natural an act on the part of the son was 
 twisted by the court and their scribe into a desire 
 to gloat over the last moments of his mother. So 
 Frederick was denied the blessing which his 
 brother and sisters received, and the dying Queen 
 had no thought for her eldest-born. She died, as 
 she had lived, devoted to her husband; while that 
 extraordinary monarch, though beside himself 
 with grief, managed to display in a sentence the 
 whole philosophy of his union with the wife whom 
 he still dearly loved. In almost her last moment 
 the Queen urged him to marry again. " Non, 
 j'aurai des maitresses," blubbered George. " Mon 
 Dieu ! " sighed the Queen ; " cela n'empeche pas." 
 Among the greatest reasons for doubting the 
 justice of Lord Hervey's virulent indictment of 
 Frederick Prince of Wales is the fact that with 
 the death of Queen Caroline, when that nobleman's 
 dismal story ceased, the chief record of Frederick's 
 enormities comes to an end. When Frederick 
 came to die, Horace Walpole recited his faults 
 with an unsparing pen, but admitted, however 
 grudgingly, some corresponding virtues. In such 
 more impartial testimony as exists upon Frederick's 
 doings during the fourteen years he had still to 
 live, there is little recorded against him. He was 
 undoubtedly popular, even Walpole admits as 
 much, though he assigns his favour with the public 
 to their hatred of his brother, the Duke of Cum- 
 berland. With the disappearance, too, of Queen 
 
 77
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 Caroline and her henchman Hervey from the 
 court, those acute and irreconcilable differences 
 of personality of father and son were no longer 
 subjected to a perpetual chafing, and there was a 
 gratifying absence of those scandalous and in- 
 decent bickerings of which Hervey was at once the 
 promoter and the historian. Frederick had a 
 court of his own, at which the chiefs of the opposi- 
 tion gathered, and which, politically, was opposed 
 tooth and nail to the court party under Walpole. 
 Here, at different times, gathered Pulteney, Car- 
 teret, Dodington, Bolingbroke, Chesterfield, 
 Lyttleton and Pitt, with many politicians of less 
 note, and from Frederick's court frequent alarums 
 and excursions were made upon the policy of the 
 Minister by one or other of those gentlemen. As 
 a party, perhaps, this opposition left little impress 
 upon national affairs, but individuals among 
 Frederick's political advisers later became national 
 forces in themselves, the mighty Pitt, for example, 
 who graduated in politics in the Prince's party, and 
 a later recruit, Lord Bute, whose influence over 
 Frederick's son in the next reign bore such bitter 
 fruit for his country. But after Walpole's fall in 
 1742, there were distinctly improved relations be- 
 tween the King and his son. George, it was said, 
 was moved by the dangers of the Rebellion of the 
 '45 to seek a healing of the family quarrel ; an 
 agent of his Majesty suggested a submissive letter 
 from the Prince, which Frederick, after some 
 demur, consented to write, and, to the joy of the 
 
 78
 
 A ROYAL FEUD AND ITS VICTIM 
 
 town, the Prince appeared at the next Drawing- 
 Room, and kissed his Majesty's hand. Wonder 
 of all, there was a mingling of the two hostile 
 courts on this joyful occasion, and there followed 
 a visit by both King and Prince to the Duchess of 
 Norfolk's reception through illuminated streets 
 lighted by bonfires. It was understood that there 
 was an increased allowance. " He will now have 
 enough money," writes Horace Walpole, " to tune 
 up Glover and Thomson and Dodsley," which is 
 Horace's pleasant way of alluding to Frederick's 
 patronage of those poets. There were even re- 
 views and pageants "to gladden the heart of 
 David and Absalom," and a journey by river by 
 Frederick and his princess to the spot of their first 
 meeting at Greenwich. 
 
 But it is to be feared that there was little real 
 reconciliation. Frederick's creditable wish to go 
 the campaign against the Stuart rebels in Scotland 
 was rebuffed, and the command given to his 
 brother, and he was left out of the Regency when 
 George and William went to the Rhine and fought 
 at Dettingen. It is pleasant to read that Fred- 
 erick's good offices were employed on behalf of 
 some of the vanquished insurgents; his supplica- 
 tion is said to have saved Lord Cromartie, and to 
 have put an end to the durance which Flora Mac- 
 donald suffered for succouring Prince Charles. 
 But it was noticed that when the King came back 
 to receive the demonstrations of loyalty which 
 awaited him in London, George, no longer anxious 
 
 79
 
 A ROYAL FEUD AND ITS VICTIM 
 
 about his own popularity, was again distinctly cold 
 to his son. 
 
 So poor Frederick was forced, despite himself, 
 to continue his role of useless, unconsidered, neg- 
 lected Prince of Wales, without the faintest oppor- 
 tunity of displaying whatever qualities of good or 
 efficiency might be latent in his character. It was 
 a heavy lot for a man in a station so exalted, that 
 of the idler and trifler confined to the mild delights 
 of London and its suburbs, while the other young 
 men of his own station were making history all 
 over Europe. But there is little harm recorded 
 of Frederick in circumstances which might have 
 lent themselves to serious trouble : some good 
 indeed. He was thoughtful for others, gave 
 lavishly to people in want, like poor debtors and 
 maimed soldiers, protected the arts, in a feeble 
 way, it is true, but with all good intentions, let us 
 hope. He had a fine country house at Cliveden 
 from 1737 onwards, where he patronized Mr. 
 James Thomson, the poet. Thomson had lost a 
 post by some change of ministry, and being good- 
 naturedly asked by Frederick as to the state of 
 his affairs, replied with some humour that "they 
 were in a more poetical posture than formerly." 
 So Frederick gave him a hundred a year, enough, 
 as he said, to keep him from starving, but not 
 enough to prevent his working. It is worthy of 
 recollection that " Rule Britannia " was first heard 
 under the auspices of Frederick at Cliveden, when 
 Thomson and Mallet produced their masque of 
 
 80
 
 A ROYAL FEUD AND ITS VICTIM 
 
 Alfred in 1740. Traditions long survived of 
 Frederick at that fine mansion on the Thames, of 
 cricket on the lawn, of the little theatre in the 
 garden, of the Prince's walks along the riverside, 
 his prizes for rowing matches, his condescension 
 with labourers and fishermen, with whom he would 
 discuss the mysteries of their craft, and even share 
 a meal at times. He was often seen, too, enjoying 
 the sights of the town with the lieges; he would 
 appear at Bartholomew Fair, holding the little 
 Prince George by the hand, preceded by Mr. Rich 
 the actor, and making a brave show in his ribbon 
 and garter in the torch-light. The Lord Mayor's 
 show, too, would attract him ; he was recognized in 
 his incognito by the members of the Sadlers' Com- 
 pany, who had a stand in front of their hall in 
 Cheapside, invited to take a place, and was so 
 pleased that he accepted the mastership of that 
 worshipful company, whose hall his portrait by 
 Mr. Frye still adorns. 
 
 This harmless, if useless, life continued with 
 little variety until the spring of 1751. On a cold 
 afternoon in March of that year Frederick, who 
 had been to Kew, returned to Carlton House, and, 
 changing into a light coat, lay on a sofa near an 
 open window on the ground floor for three hours, 
 caught a chill, and lay by for a few days. In the 
 evening of the 2Oth of March he was seized with a 
 fit of coughing, which the doctor expected would 
 relieve him. This doctor, indeed, Wilmot, had 
 just left the room with the remark that the Prince 
 F 81
 
 JN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 was now sure of a good night's rest. The cough 
 returned, his valet was holding him up in bed, 
 when Frederick said suddenly, " Je sens la mort," 
 and the servant, who felt him shiver, exclaimed, 
 " Good God, the Prince is going ! " The Prin- 
 cess, who was at the foot of the bed, snatched up 
 a candle, but before she could reach his side 
 Frederick was dead. He had been struck in the 
 side by a tennis ball three years before, an im- 
 posthume had formed, and its breaking choked 
 him. 
 
 It was Lord North who took the news to King 
 George at Kensington, whom he found looking 
 over a card-table, at which some of the court were 
 playing. Lord North whispered his message. 
 "Dead, is he?" replied his Majesty; "why, they 
 told me he was better," and walking round to 
 the Walmoden, he observed, " Countess, Fred is 
 gone." Never was a prince of a great nation 
 buried with so little ceremony; no one seemed to 
 think it worth while to make a fuss. So poor 
 Frederick's obsequies were attended by his little 
 household alone, no bishop read the solemn lines 
 of the service, no English peer walked behind his 
 coffin, and his ashes were laid in the Abbey without 
 anthem or organ. His Princess felt his loss 
 acutely, and his son George "cried extremely," 
 but one can read much in the annals of those times 
 without finding any one else to mourn him. 
 
 The scribes, of course, were busy with his 
 memory, but, after the manner of their kind, were 
 
 82
 
 A ROYAL FEUD AND ITS VICTIM 
 
 more concerned with his follies than his virtues. 
 The circumstances of his private life were re- 
 counted with the usual relish, and much that was 
 said on that score cannot be denied. But it may 
 at least be urged that his court was as reputable 
 as those of his father and grandfather. Lady 
 Archibald Hamilton had the credit of being his 
 mistress; but, as she had a family of ten before 
 his acquaintance with her began, it may be con- 
 ceded that the Prince in this case took no advan- 
 tage of youth and inexperience. Lady Middlesex 
 is supposed to have succeeded Lady Archibald, 
 but with what justice one neither knows nor cares. 
 Her husband was about the court, and was a party 
 to whatever arrangement was in force. It is quite 
 possible that the son, like the father, was better 
 pleased with the reputation than with the reality 
 of these alliances. It is certain that, apart from 
 these very serious failings, Frederick was an affec- 
 tionate husband and a good father; even his 
 enemy Walpole admitted as much. Horace re- 
 corded some characteristic qualifications, it is true, 
 but as these have been more forcibly set out by 
 Hervey, we will not repeat them here. 
 
 Whatever Prince Frederick's faults, it is cer- 
 tain from what is now known of the history of 
 his family that he was never given the opportunity 
 of showing any merit which might have been latent 
 in his character. He came of a virile race, and 
 had Frederick as a boy been taken by the hand 
 and trained to the position he was one day to
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 occupy, it may well have been that he would not 
 have been found wanting. That system of ap- 
 prenticeship in statecraft, which produced some 
 surprising results in his own cousin Frederic of 
 Prussia, was replaced at the English court by a 
 pitiless suppression which sacrificed the son to the 
 ambition of the mother. It is possible probable, 
 indeed that the nation profited by that sacrifice ; 
 it is all the more due to the memory of the victim 
 that the price he paid by a life of neglect and con- 
 tumely should at last be recognized, and his name 
 no longer be mentioned with only a jest or a sneer.
 
 II 
 
 THE ELUSIVE QUAKERESS
 
 II 
 
 THE ELUSIVE QUAKERESS 
 
 IN one of the most humorous of Addison's 
 Spectators we are shown, with an abundance of 
 the playful banter which is characteristic of that 
 kindly moralist, the difficulty of overtaking a lie 
 which has once got a good start. The King of 
 France is reported dead at a fashionable coffee- 
 house of the West End, and the news runs like 
 wildfire through similar establishments all over 
 the town, and provides the oracles of a score of 
 devout audiences with matter for many solemn 
 utterances delivered amidst the incense of much 
 tobacco smoke. The Spectator follows the news 
 from coffee-house to coffee-house, and notes it 
 taking a tincture proper to the interests of each of 
 those famous places of gathering. The French- 
 men who resorted to Giles's were already proceed- 
 ing to release their friends from the galleys, and 
 establishing them in power and place in France. 
 At Jenny Man's "an alert young fellow cocked 
 his hat upon a friend, and remarked, ' Well, Jack, 
 the old prig's dead at last ; sharp's the word, now 
 or never, boy, up to the walls of Paris.' ' The 
 
 8?
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 wits at Wills's were lamenting the decease of 
 Boileau, Racine and Corneille, "who would have 
 obliged the world with very noble elegies on the 
 death of so great a prince," and so eastward from 
 Nando'sto Fish Street^ where a politician explained 
 how the death of the French King would " affect 
 our pilchards," and finally to Cheapside, where " a 
 haberdasher who was the chief oracle of the estab- 
 lishment called his admirers to witness that he had 
 declared a week since that the King must have 
 been dead, and that, considering the late advices, 
 it could not have been otherwise. He was en- 
 larging upon this proposition with great authority 
 when there came in a gentleman from Garraway's 
 with the news that the King was in good health, 
 and had gone out a-hunting the very morning 
 the post came away, upon which the haberdasher 
 stole off his hat that hung upon a wooden peg 
 by him, and retired to his shop with great con- 
 fusion." 
 
 In such manner does Addison let his fancy play 
 about the difficulty of refuting a false statement 
 which has been once fairly launched among a 
 credulous public. We need not take that master 
 of the ironical method too literally, but the general 
 proposition of that pleasant paper the amazing 
 vitality of a lie and its ready acceptance by all 
 classes of people whose credulity it quickens or 
 whose interest it touches holds good. .When a 
 particular lie has an added flavour of scandal, and 
 concerns the life or conversation of those in high 
 
 88
 
 THE ELUSIVE QUAKERESS 
 
 places, its acceptance becomes perfectly irresist- 
 ible by the general public. There was once a lie of 
 this quality in circulation, an examination of which 
 seems to fall within the scheme of our undertak- 
 ing. It concerned the youthful doings of no less 
 a personage than King George the Third, and was 
 certainly not lacking in a scandalous flavour. In- 
 stead of enjoying a day's vogue in the coffee- 
 houses of London, it started early in the long 
 reign of that monarch, and met with a still growing 
 acceptance years after his Majesty was dead; it 
 had, in fact, a career of nearly a century. It is 
 through such a period that we can now trace the 
 story, note its origin in an obscure and scandalous 
 news-sheet, which died in the effort of giving it 
 birth, watch its acceptance by the waggish of one 
 generation of King George's subjects, and its 
 growth into a tradition among an increasing num- 
 ber of the next. Later we may see the adoption 
 of this tradition by the writers of otherwise cred- 
 ible publications. A further stage will bring us to 
 a remarkable development of the legend after 
 King George's death, and its support by whole 
 masses of forged evidence in a famous and im- 
 pudent claim, to which it was a sort of side-show. 
 By this time the lie had developed into a noxious 
 growth, which, had it become established, might 
 have had very serious consequences. But, dragged 
 at last into the light, it died a sudden death in the 
 antiseptic air of a British court of justice. Its 
 career, however, had been so long unchallenged 
 
 89
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 that it had enlisted the support of a good many 
 worthy people who should have known better, and 
 it is doubtful whether its memory is not still 
 cherished by a few. Certainly at its final refuta- 
 tion there was no "haberdasher to steal his hat 
 from the peg and retire to his shop in confusion." 
 Lastly, although the fable is at last dead, there 
 are certain personalities and circumstances with 
 which it dealt still remaining in an atmosphere 
 of some mystery, and a plain statement of the 
 whole amazing story seems to present promise of 
 some points of interest. 
 
 It was in February of 1776, when George the 
 Third had been nearly sixteen years on the throne 
 and was thirty-eight years of age, that there ap- 
 peared in London the first number of a news- 
 sheet under the title of the Citizen. The paper 
 was published on the 24th of that month, and was 
 announced as being sold by John Wheeble, 22 
 Fleet Street. Among other attractions promised 
 to its readers was the following 
 
 " Court Fragments, which will be published by 
 the Citizen for the Use, Instruction, and Amuse- 
 ment of Royal Infants and Young Promising 
 Noblemen. 
 
 (i) " The History and Adventures of Miss 
 L . . htf . . t, the Fair Quaker; wherein will be 
 faithfully portrayed some striking pictures of 
 female constancy and princely gratitude, which 
 terminated in the untimely death of that young 
 lady, and the sudden death of a disconsolate 
 mother." 
 
 90
 
 THE ELUSIVE QUAKERESS 
 
 Such, so far as can be ascertained, was the first 
 appearance in print of the hardy legend which we 
 have now to trace through the backstairs gossip of 
 nearly a century. It will be noted that there is 
 little definite statement in this announcement in 
 the Citizen, which might indeed have referred to 
 George the Third or to any other prince in 
 Europe. Its vague innuendoes as to the short- 
 comings of " royal infants " and princes were only 
 developed into definite accusations against King 
 George at a later date. We shall find there were 
 amazing discrepancies in those accusations, but 
 stated in plain terms the charge against George 
 the Third became clear enough. This was that 
 George, when Prince of Wales, fell in love with 
 a young and attractive Quakeress named Hannah 
 Lightfoot, married her, had several children, and 
 kept her in absolute seclusion until her death. 
 The date of the marriage was variously stated. 
 Some of the King's accusers, indeed, denied the 
 marriage altogether, and contended that George's 
 possession of the young woman was but the result 
 of her forced marriage with a convenient bride- 
 groom, who was compensated for his complais- 
 ance. The Prince's crime was thus reduced from 
 bigamy to adultery. But the general fact of his 
 connection with Hannah Lightfoot, with the result 
 of a variously estimated family and his seclusion 
 of the young woman, was put forward with all 
 confidence by the original scandal-mongers, and 
 accepted by the gobemouches of three genera- 
 
 91
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 tions at least, and it is that acceptance of so in- 
 herently improbable a story that seems to justify 
 our inquiry. 
 
 There could surely be no worse subject for 
 such a scandal than George the Third. Never 
 was a prince whose youthful doings showed more 
 decorum, or whose goings and comings were under 
 more complete surveillance. From the day of his 
 father's death in 1751, until that of his own acces- 
 sion just nine years later, there was so complete 
 an absence of all mystery about the young Prince's 
 doings, and his habits are so well known, that much 
 of his time could be accounted for even at this 
 day. During the whole of those nine years George 
 was the rising hope of one political party and the 
 despair of the other, and he passed his youth in an 
 atmosphere of intrigue and suspicion which kept 
 a hundred eyes upon him. His governors and 
 preceptors and their subordinates were constantly 
 falling out and being changed. Lord North, 
 Dean Ayscough, Lord Waldegrave, Dr. Hayter 
 Bishop of Norwich, the Bishop of Peterborough, 
 as well as a set of understudies who taught him 
 his sums and grammar, all had a hand in his rear- 
 ing until he passed into the care of the Princess 
 his mother and Lord Bute, with plain Parson 
 Hales, that royal lady's Clerk of the Closet, to 
 look after his soul's welfare. Under the eye of 
 one or other of those jealous guardians, who were 
 themselves jealously watched by others they had 
 displaced, there was, as already suggested, scarce 
 
 92
 
 THE ELUSIVE QUAKERESS 
 
 an hour of the exemplary youth's time unac- 
 counted for. Much of it, according to one of 
 them, was passed in sleep. George's only com- 
 panion was his brother, Prince Edward of York, 
 for the Princess was afraid that his morals might 
 be contaminated by any association with the noble 
 youth of that day, and as a result of the Princess's 
 maternal care, young George grew up entirely 
 after her own heart. We have it on her authority 
 that he was reserved and childish until well on in 
 his teens. Lord Waldegrave declared that he was 
 full of the prejudices fostered by women and 
 pages. Old King George the Second stated 
 roundly that his grandson was fit for nothing but 
 to read the Bible to his mother; it is certain that 
 the pious boy voluntarily learned many of Dr. 
 Doddridge's devotional hymns by heart. His 
 chief relaxations were the study of the art of the 
 locksmith and the dissection of clocks and 
 watches. At the age of seventeen he refused a 
 matrimonial scheme provided for him by his 
 grandfather, and declined a separate establish- 
 ment at Kensington on the ground that " it would 
 be so great a mortification for his mother," though 
 it is said he thriftily accepted the ^40,000 a year 
 which accompanied the old King's offer. His 
 only excursion, indeed, from his mother's apron- 
 string up to the time that he came to the throne 
 seems to have been a tour which he took with Lord 
 Bute to the island from which that nobleman took 
 his title, during which he was assuredly in very 
 
 93
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 safe hands. Finally, when at last he became 
 King, George opened his reign very auspiciously 
 with a proclamation against immorality. 
 
 It was this harmless and exemplary youth, 
 reared in such circumstances, who in the Lightf oot 
 story was made to figure as a very villain of melo- 
 drama, quick in design and prompt in execution, 
 and with abduction as the least of his crimes, and 
 adultery or bigamy as the alternatives. 
 
 ; These and other circumstances considered, the 
 charge against George involved in the acceptance 
 of the Lightfoot legend was so improbable and 
 grotesque, that there is little wonder that it failed 
 to attract any particular attention, during* the King's 
 lifetime. None of the reputable gossips of his 
 times had any dealings with it, a fact which in 
 itself is almost sufficient to give the story its proper 
 value. Had it possessed even plausibility it would 
 have been meat and drink for writers like Horace 
 Walpole. The ginger of scandal was hot in 
 Horace's mouth to the end, nothing, indeed, was 
 too spicy even for the prim Miss Berrys in those 
 famous Reminiscences, and Horace's correspond- 
 ents would certainly have received reams of 
 diverting comment on so racy a scandal had it 
 reached him with any shadow of authority. Again, 
 when the copious love affairs of King George's 
 own son, the hopeful Prince of .Wales, afterwards 
 George the Fourth, provided the scandal-mongers 
 with a perennial joy, and gave to a great political 
 party a weapon by which they hinted they could 
 
 94
 
 THE ELUSIVE QUAKERESS 
 
 an if they would deprive the Prince of his right 
 of succession by reason of his marriage to Mrs. 
 Fitzherbert, is it likely that even a worse fredaine 
 of King George's own youth would have escaped 
 exposure by the Whigs, who at the moment were 
 heart and soul in the Prince's interest and against 
 the King? Obviously not. During all those 
 years of strife between George the Third and his 
 son, the Lightfoot story was still only whispered 
 at coffee-houses and taverns, and it remained in 
 the keeping of such company for another genera- 
 tion. It was only well on in the nineteenth century 
 that it gained any real credence, and then at a 
 time when sixty years and more separated the sup- 
 posed crime from its refutation, the difficulty of 
 which so great a lapse of time enormously in- 
 creased. 
 
 It is noteworthy that the second appearance in 
 print of the Lightfoot story took place under 
 auspices little more reputable than those of its 
 origin in the dingy pages of the Citizen. Notable 
 among the literary bravos of the eighteenth cen- 
 tury was one William Combe, who is remembered 
 to-day by his more reputable works, of which his 
 Tours of Dr. Syntax and his elaborate production 
 describing the river Thames are the most notable ; 
 both of which, however, owe their survival in 
 modern collections to the excellence of their illus- 
 trations in coloured aquatint by Thomas Rowland- 
 son and Mr. Farington, R.A., respectively. But 
 Combe's main occupation was the production of 
 
 95
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 very different matter, and among a mass of 
 scandal which he either wrote or edited, a typical 
 specimen is the Royal Register, which appeared 
 under his auspices in 1779. In the third volume 
 of this Register, in an article dealing with King 
 George, may be read the following variation of 
 the legend 
 
 " It is not believed even at this time by many 
 persons who live in the world that he (King 
 George) had a mistress previous to his marriage. 
 Such a circumstance was reported by many, be- 
 lieved by some, disputed by others, but proved by 
 none; and with such a suitable caution was this 
 intrigue conducted that if the body of the people 
 called Quakers, of which the young lady in ques- 
 tion was a member, had not divulged the fact by 
 the public proceedings of their meeting concern- 
 ing it, it would in all probability have remained a 
 matter of doubt to this day." 
 
 This version of the story, it will be seen, ap- 
 peared three years after its original publication in 
 the Citizen, and the point to be borne in mind is 
 that the charge is now limited to a common in- 
 trigue, which was only discovered by the action 
 of a body of Quakers in taking disciplinary notice 
 of the backslidings of one of their number. But 
 the central charge of an intrigue against King 
 George when Prince of Wales is treated as an 
 accepted fact. 
 
 One supposes that to have been the case among 
 the sort of persons who kept the story going ; it is 
 
 96
 
 THE ELUSIVE QUAKERESS 
 
 important, however, to remember that it still kept 
 out of all respectable company, and remained as 
 a lickerish morsel among the class who had first 
 propagated it for nearly another generation. One 
 assumes, however, that its constant repetition in 
 such company at length gave it a vitality which 
 started its growth, and resulted in its reaching by 
 slow stages a higher stratum of society. In any 
 case, the legend remained unsupported by further 
 printed repetition for no less than twenty-six 
 years. All the anti-court squibs and lampoons 
 which were produced in such generous measure 
 against King George and his policy through those 
 strenuous last twenty years of the eighteenth cen- 
 tury left it unnoticed; one has only to think of 
 the opportunity such a story would have provided 
 for the wits of the Rolliad, for example, to see 
 how small was its acceptance by those to whom, 
 had it possessed any real credibility, it would 
 have proved a godsend. But when, in 1815, the 
 Lightfoot legend reappeared, if the story lacked 
 some of its original venom, it was certainly in 
 better company. It was republished, indeed, 
 under the auspices of that very diverting writer, 
 Sir Nathaniel Wraxall, in whose first series of 
 Historical Memoirs is the following passage 
 
 " Stories were, indeed, generally circulated con- 
 cerning his (King George's) attachment to a young 
 woman, a Quaker, about this time of .his life, just 
 as scandal-mongers afterwards whispered that he 
 distinguished Lady Bridget Tollemache by his
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 particular attentions. The former report was 
 probably well founded, and the latter assertion 
 was unquestionably true, but those persons who 
 have enjoyed most opportunities for studying the 
 King's character will most incline to believe that 
 in neither instance did he pass the limits of inno- 
 cent gallantry or occasional familiarity." 
 
 If the legend gains by the authority of Wraxall, 
 it certainly suffers a diminution of its virulent 
 quality, for here the intrigue with Hannah Light- 
 foot dissolves into a bit of innocent ogling, or at 
 the worst, " occasional familiarity." Most students 
 of the life and times of George the Third will be 
 inclined to believe that his inclinations and oppor- 
 tunities for the greater offence were as strong and 
 as many as for the less. It is quite as easy to 
 think of the Prince George we know provided 
 with all the apparatus of a midnight abduction, 
 and removing Hannah in a coach and four with 
 the assistance of myrmidons in long cloaks and 
 black vizors, as to picture him making sheeps' 
 eyes at that lady, and favouring her with an occa- 
 sional chuck under the chin. The story, in fact, 
 was dwindling to very harmless proportions in 
 1815. The dark innuendoes of the Citizen and 
 the ingenious Mr. Combe, in Wraxall's hands had 
 tapered off into a story of "harmless gallantry." 
 It was reserved for a lady to formulate a charge of 
 a more damaging character. This lady was Mrs. 
 Piozzi, better known to fame as Mrs. Thrale, the 
 friend of Dr. Johnson, and the patroness of that 
 
 98
 
 remarkable society at Streatham where so much 
 of the Johnsonian tradition centres. Mrs. Piozzi, 
 who died in 1821, read and annotated Wraxall's 
 memoirs, and as a note to the above quoted pas- 
 sages, she declares in a very authoritative manner, 
 " Her (Hannah Lightfoot's) son by him (King 
 George) is still alive." 
 
 Mrs. Piozzi, it will be observed, does not con- 
 descend to explain the exact circumstances in 
 which this son was born to parents whom she so 
 confidently associates, and we are left to con- 
 jecture whether that son was the result of a secret 
 marriage, as was afterwards alleged, or of a mere 
 vulgar and less courageous intrigue. Here, again, 
 it is very necessary to examine the credentials of 
 this self-appointed judge of her sovereign, who 
 was alive when her judgment was delivered. It 
 must be confessed that this lady was always pre- 
 pared with pronouncements of this sort concern- 
 ing prominent individuals, some of which have 
 been taken altogether too seriously. She delivered 
 a judgment in the same annotated volume of 
 Wraxall as to the origin of the founder of an 
 eminent family, Thomas Rumbold, whom she 
 placed as a shoe-black at White's Club in his 
 early youth, a judgment which finds little accept- 
 ance to-day, and is, in fact, strenuously resisted 
 by present representatives of the family. It was 
 the same lady's verse, describing the famous por- 
 traits at Streatham, which credited Sir Joshua 
 Reynolds with a " cold heart," and there have not 
 02 99
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 been wanting biographers of that great painter 
 since the days of Alan Cunningham to accept that 
 ridiculous estimate of the character of one of the 
 kindest and most generous of men. On the whole, 
 indeed, it can scarcely be claimed that Mrs. 
 Piozzi's ex cathedra pronouncement added much 
 to the credibility of the Lightfoot story. 
 
 That story, therefore, during King George's 
 lifetime had assumed no serious dimensions, and 
 was contained in the printed innuendoes we have 
 quoted, and the mere rumours reported, without 
 any attempt at supporting evidence, by Wraxall 
 and Mrs. Piozzi. Although the bare suggestion 
 of an intrigue of the sort in connection with such 
 a Puritan in morals as King George the Third is 
 a distinct shock, it must be confessed that there 
 were ample precedents for such shortcomings in 
 his own family, and had such a folly of the youth- 
 ful Prince in his 'teens been true and proved, it 
 need not have borne very hardly against the repu- 
 tation of a King who later set a pattern of domestic 
 fidelity for the most virtuous of his subjects. But 
 the scandal-mongers were only waiting for the 
 death of the King to bring forward aspersions of 
 the most injurious character. It was, again, in the 
 convenient pages of a periodical published under 
 doubtful auspices, and still under the shelter of a 
 cautious anonymity, that these charges appeared. 
 
 The periodical in question was the Monthly 
 Magazine, one of the literary ventures of a pro- 
 minent journalistic figure of those days, Richard 
 
 100
 
 THE ELUSIVE QUAKERESS 
 
 Phillips, and April ist, 1821, was, in all the cir- 
 cumstances, a very appropriate date for the first 
 communication upon the subject, in which, it will 
 be noticed, King George being dead and buried, 
 the Lightfoot story undergoes an amazing expan- 
 sion. 
 
 A correspondent who signed himself B. opened 
 the ball by a short communication to that journal, 
 in which he says, "All the world is acquainted 
 with the attachment of the late King to a beautiful 
 Quakeress of the name of Wheeler. The lady 
 disappeared on the royal marriage in a way which 
 has always been interesting, because unexplained 
 and mysterious. I have been told she is still alive, 
 or was so lately." B. concluded by asking for 
 information on the subject. 
 
 It will be noticed that the "beautiful Quaker- 
 ess" whose name had been whispered for over 
 sixty years as Hannah Lightfoot now becomes 
 Wheeler, and that a marriage is mentioned for the 
 first time. It is not clear, however, whether a 
 marriage between the Prince and the Quakeress 
 is suggested, or that the " royal marriage " men- 
 tioned is that of King George to Queen Charlotte 
 in 1761. In the latter case, it would seem that it 
 was claimed by this correspondent that Hannah 
 was in evidence until the arrival of the Princess 
 Charlotte from Mecklenburg necessitated her 
 disappearance. 
 
 However, the information asked for by B. was 
 forthcoming in generous quantity in a later number 
 
 101
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 of the Monthly Magazine. In that published on 
 July ist appeared a long letter dated from War- 
 minster on the 3Oth of April, and signed "War- 
 minsterensis." This letter requires particular 
 attention as the first statement alleging certain 
 definite facts; it also assumed a certain air of 
 authority, and at length provided critics of the 
 Lightfoot tradition with abundant material upon 
 which to exercise their scepticism. 
 
 It appears, then, from " Warminsterensis " that 
 the real name of "the fair Quaker who once 
 engaged the affections of King George was not 
 Wheeler, as stated by B., but Hannah Lightfoot. 
 She lived with her father and mother at the corner 
 of St. James's Market, who kept a shop there (I 
 believe linendrapers). The Prince had often 
 noticed her on his way from Leicester House to 
 St. James's, and was struck with her person. 
 Miss Chudleigh, the late Duchess of Kingston, 
 became his agent. The royal lover's relations 
 took alarm, and sent to inquire for a young man 
 to marry her." This pressing need, it appears, 
 was supplied in the person of one Isaac Axford, 
 who " was shopman to Barton the grocer on Lud- 
 gate Hill, and used to chat with her when she 
 came to the shop to buy groceries. A Mr. Perryn 
 of Knightsbridge, it was said, furnished a place of 
 meeting for the lovers. An agent of Miss Chud- 
 leigh's called on Axford, and proposed that on 
 his marrying Hannah he should have a consider- 
 able sum of money. Hannah stayed for a short 
 
 1 02
 
 Mrs. Axford 
 
 From a Painting by Sir Joshua Reynolds 
 (By Permission of Henr*- Graves & Co)
 
 THE ELUSIVE QUAKERESS 
 
 time with her husband, and Isaac never saw her 
 more, but he learned that she had gone with Miss 
 Chudleigh. He was a poor-hearted fellow, for 
 by making a bustle about it he might, perhaps, 
 have secured himself a good provision. He told 
 me when I last saw him that he presented a 
 petition at St. James's which was not attended to, 
 also that he had received some money from 
 Perryn's assignees on account of his wife. 
 
 " Isaac lived many years as a respectable 
 grocer at Warminster, his native place, but retired 
 from business before his death, which took place 
 about five years ago in the 86th year of his age. 
 
 " Many years after Hannah was taken away, her 
 husband, believing her to be dead, married again 
 to a Miss Bartleet of Keevil, North Wilts, and 
 by her succeeded to an estate at Chevrell of about 
 ^150 a year. On the report reviving, a few years 
 since, of his first wife's being still living, a Mr. 
 Bartleet, first cousin to Isaac's second wife, 
 claimed the estate on the plea of the invalidity of 
 this second marriage. 
 
 " It is said that the late Marquis of Bath, a 
 little before his death, reported that she was then 
 living, and the same has been asserted by other 
 gentlemen of this neighbourhood. 
 
 " Hannah was fair and pure, as far as I have 
 ever heard, but, report says, not the purest of the 
 pure, in respect of the house of Mr. Perryn, who 
 left her an annuity of ,40 a year. She was, 
 indeed, considered one of the beautiful women 
 
 103
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 of her time, and rather disposed to embon- 
 point" 
 
 Here, then, at last, is a definite indictment of 
 the virtuous prince and king George. Phillips, 
 the proprietor of the Monthly Magazine whose 
 pages it graced, preceded this letter of "War- 
 minsterensis " with an editorial introduction, and 
 speaks of his correspondent as "a respectable 
 gentleman of Warminster." He adds also some 
 particulars of a private inquiry of his own, as 
 supplementary to the information of that respect- 
 able gentleman. From these it seems that so late 
 as July 1821 the Axford family were still respect- 
 able grocers on Ludgate Hill, and that, upon 
 inquiry there, Phillips soon got upon the track of 
 a son of Isaac by "his second wife," Miss Bart- 
 leet. This young Mr. Axford assured Phillips 
 that " Warminsterensis's " information was sub- 
 stantially correct. Hannah, however, lived as long 
 as six weeks with Isaac Axford, who was fondly 
 attached to her, and one evening when he hap- 
 pened to be from home, a coach and four came to 
 his door, into which Hannah was popped and 
 driven off at a gallop, no one knew whither. The 
 unfortunate Isaac was inconsolable at first, and 
 at different times applied for satisfaction <*at 
 Weymouth and elsewhere," but without success, 
 and died after sixty years in total ignorance of 
 Hannah's fate. It was reported, however, that 
 she had three sons by her lover, one of whom 
 rose high in the army, that she died and was 
 
 104
 
 THE ELUSIVE QUAKERESS 
 
 buried at Islington, and even that she was still 
 alive." 
 
 It cannot be held that Mr. Phillips's inquiry 
 was altogether confirmatory of his correspondent's 
 letter. If Isaac had taken "a considerable sum," 
 as stated by the excellent " Warminsterensis," in 
 order to enact the part of the convenient husband 
 required by the Prince's alarmed relatives, he 
 surely had no reason to complain or to be incon- 
 solable when they exacted their share of the 
 bargain in removing the lady. He may, indeed, 
 be considered lucky, in all the circumstances, in 
 having had the advantage of Hannah's society 
 for six weeks, and there seem to have been excel- 
 lent reasons for his rebuff when he approached the 
 royal presence at " Weymouth and elsewhere." 
 
 Certain doubts on these and other points 
 occurred to readers of the magazine, and found a 
 voice in " Brentfordensis," who raised some rather 
 pertinent questions in a letter dated July I2th of 
 the same year 1821. Thus he wished to know 
 why the fair Quakeress was sometimes called 
 Wheeler and sometimes Lightfoot; when and 
 where did the marriage of Hannah take place, and 
 how was it proved that she was the same Quaker- 
 ess who lived at the corner of St. James's Market 
 and was admired by Prince George; where was 
 she carried off from in the coach and four ; where 
 and at what date was the lawsuit by Mr. Bartleet 
 against Isaac Axf ord ; did he succeed, and if not, 
 why; was Mr. Bartleet living, and if so, where? 
 
 105
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 These questions were assuredly very much to the 
 point, and most of them remain unanswered to 
 this day. 
 
 The story, however, was carried a step further 
 by another correspondent of the invaluable 
 Monthly Magazine, to which periodical, indeed, 
 it afforded copy of most remunerative character. 
 The September number was a good investment 
 for the subscription, and provided matter of much 
 relish to connoisseurs in such fare. From this 
 correspondent we learn that Isaac Axford never 
 cohabited with Hannah Lightfoot, but that she 
 was taken away from the church door the day they 
 were married, and that Isaac never saw her again. 
 The reprobate Prince, he says, had frequently 
 seen Hannah at the shop door in St. James's 
 Market "as he drove by going to and from 
 Parliament." He confirmed the information that 
 the accommodating Perryn of Knightsbridge left 
 Hannah 40 a year, and added that Isaac pre- 
 sented a petition on his knees to the King in the 
 park, praying that Hannah be restored to him, 
 " but obtained but little redress." 
 
 We get little further light from this correspond- 
 ent, but may be thankful, perhaps, for the 
 church which he brings into the story. But there 
 is still no explanation of Isaac's unreasonable 
 conduct in finding a grievance at being asked to 
 carry out his part of the bargain after pouching 
 the Prince's money. In October, however, there 
 was distinct progress. In the magazine for that 
 
 1 06
 
 THE ELUSIVE QUAKERESS 
 
 month "An Inquirer" supplied some important 
 information, which must be given in full. 
 
 " Hannah Lightfoot, when residing with her 
 father and mother, was frequently seen by the 
 King when he drove by going to and from Par- 
 liament House. She eloped in 1754, and was 
 married to Isaac Axford at Keith's chapel, which 
 my father discovered about three weeks after, and 
 none of her family have seen her since, though 
 her mother had a letter or two from her, but died at 
 last of grief. There were many fabulous stories 
 about her, but my aunt, the mother of Hannah 
 Lightfoot, could never trace any to be true." 
 
 "The above," explains "Inquirer," "is a copy 
 of a cousin of Hannah Lightfoot's letter to me 
 on inquiry of particulars of this mysterious affair, 
 and who is now living and more likely to know 
 the particulars than any one else. The general 
 belief of her friends was that she was taken into 
 keeping by Prince George directly after her 
 marriage to Axford, but never lived with him." 
 " Inquirer " then adds some information of her 
 own. 
 
 " I have lately seen a half-pay cavalry officer 
 from India who knew a gentleman of the name of 
 Dalton who married a daughter of Hannah Light- 
 foot by the King, but who is dead, leaving several 
 accomplished daughters, who, with the father, are 
 coming to England. These daughters are 
 secluded from society like nuns, but no pains 
 spared in their education. Probably on the arrival 
 of this gentleman more light will be thrown on the 
 
 107
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 subject than now exists. The person who wrote 
 the above letter is distantly related to me, and my 
 mother, deceased some years, was related to 
 Hannah Lightfoot and well knew her. I never 
 heard her say any more than I have described 
 already, except that she was' short of stature and 
 very pretty." 
 
 Here, at last, we have a date and place for the 
 marriage. Axford married Hannah at Keith's 
 chapel in 1754, it seems, and Prince George took 
 charge of her immediately afterwards. It is 
 enough to shake one's faith in human nature. The 
 young reprobate whom we thought of as learning 
 hymns, oiling locks and watching pendulums at 
 Carlton House at the tender age of fifteen was all 
 the while maturing a plan for abducting another 
 man's wife, a plan which he carried out with such 
 success and secrecy that the deed only came to 
 light just sixty-seven years afterwards. 
 
 We are now arrived at October 1821, but the 
 Monthly Magazine had not yet done with the sub- 
 ject, and nearly a year later, in July of 1822, the 
 wondrous tale was taken up by Mr. (or Mrs.) 
 T. G. H., whose claim to speak with authority 
 rested upon the fact that among his relatives were 
 some "who had been Hannah's neighbours." 
 T. G. H. himself remembered Wheeler's shop in 
 St. James's Market, the open space which, before 
 its demolition, included "a daily flesh market" 
 and a poultry market, the first under cover, the 
 last " an open, oblong space." The linendraper's 
 
 108
 
 THE ELUSIVE QUAKERESS 
 
 shop was the eastern corner house on the south 
 side of this open poultry market, and abutted on 
 a narrow lane, Market Lane, which ran down to 
 Pall Mall at the back of the Opera House, its 
 lower end, as far as Wheeler's shop, being later 
 covered over and made into an arcade. Mr. 
 Wheeler, it seems, did the chief part of his busi- 
 ness with the farmers of the poultry market, for 
 whom he was accustomed to keep on tap " a cask 
 of good ale." 
 
 The pretty Quakeress who engaged the youthful 
 fancy of Prince George is represented by this well 
 informed correspondent as the daughter of the 
 hospitable linendraper. " Miss Wheeler," says 
 he, " owed much of her beauty, like the Gunnings, 
 to her providential escape from the small-pox, and 
 her admirers attending her between the shop and 
 her place of worship, the Friends' Meeting House 
 in St. Martin's Lane, rivalled that which attended 
 those paragons when taking the air in the park or 
 elsewhere." 
 
 We learn further that whenever royalty came 
 to the Opera it came in chairs preceded by a few 
 footmen,' and followed by about a dozen Beef- 
 eaters, and that it was accustomed to enter the 
 Opera House by the back door in Market Lane. 
 Wheeler's shop at the corner lay in the line of 
 march, and on these occasions " all the linens were 
 taken out of the eastern window," and Miss 
 Wheeler was placed there instead of the towels 
 and tablecloths, in order that she might see the 
 
 109
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 procession. The idea seems excellent, and the 
 advertisement good. " The fame of her beauty," 
 says T. G. H., "attracted the notice of the 
 Prince ; " but, as his royal highness could see her 
 there in the flesh, that fame seems redundant in 
 the circumstances. 
 
 There follows an account of the way in which 
 the meeting of the lovers was effected, all in the 
 approved style of the eighteenth century mystery. 
 Those who have explored the by-ways of that 
 century know it all so well, with its capital letters, 
 blanks, dashes and asterisks. A convenient rascal, 
 
 well known about the court as Jack M , lived 
 
 with his wife in Pall Mall, to whom the task of 
 providing the Prince with the dainty Miss Wheeler 
 was committed. This worthy, after a reconnoiter- 
 ing of the neighbourhood, proceeded to estab- 
 lish himself in a watchmaker's shop opposite 
 Wheeler's, from which place of vantage he could 
 watch that house unobserved. Here he discovered 
 that a frequent visitor was a woman whom subse- 
 quent inquiries proved to be a confidante of Miss 
 
 Wheeler's, by the name of H . This Mrs. 
 
 H was an old servant of the Wheelers', and 
 
 had subsequently been in the employment of one 
 Betts, a glass-cutter in Cockspur Street, by whom 
 she had been discharged. One of Betts's appren- 
 tices, named H ,_ had married her, "she being 
 
 a handsome woman"; and upon Jack M 
 
 opening his business of procuring Miss Wheeler 
 for the Prince, she readily consented to the plot, 
 
 1 10
 
 THE ELUSIVE QUAKERESS 
 
 "which her previous familiarity rendered easy." 
 The Wheelers, it seems, allowed their daughter 
 to go out with this woman, who arranged interviews 
 between Miss Wheeler and the Prince, gradually 
 removed the girl's clothes and trinkets, and 
 planned the elopement, which duly took place, 
 " and old Mrs. Wheeler never recovered from the 
 shock; she descended to the grave with a broken 
 heart," as well she might. 
 
 Jack M , we are told, was handsomely 
 
 rewarded, and it must be confessed his reward 
 took a surprising form. One supposes he got a 
 comfortable sum of money as well, but "one of 
 his relatives was appointed teacher of English to 
 Queen Charlotte, and another became a bishop." 
 
 As for Mrs. H , her share was 500, and her 
 
 husband, thus enriched, joined another apprentice 
 
 by the name of S , and set up in Cockspur 
 
 Street in the glass-cutting way, where they main- 
 tained a successful rivalry with the excellent and 
 unoffending Betts, who was, in fact, the only 
 respectable person mentioned in the business. 
 Never was vice so triumphant, or suffering virtue 
 so trampled on before. 
 
 " Such," concludes T. G. H., "is the history of 
 this elopement, which I received from my mother's 
 relations, who had peculiar means of knowing the 
 
 facts, as also from a fellow-apprentice of H 's, 
 
 one Stock, who kept the Lion and Lamb at Lewis- 
 ham." He adds that " it was generally supposed 
 that the fair Quaker was kept at Lambeth, or some 
 
 in
 
 other village on the south of the Thames, because 
 Prince George was often seen to ride over West- 
 minster Bridge. He, however, had heard that " she 
 dwelt with a farmer at Knightsbridge, who sup- 
 plied the royal family with asses' milk." He 
 pointed out the fairly obvious fact that those who 
 made the Prince encounter Hannah in passing to 
 and from the Parliament House, could have no 
 knowledge of the town and of the situation of her 
 father's shop. He might have added that Prince 
 George was seldom or never at "the Parliament 
 House " before he came to the throne. T. G. H. 
 explains the change of name by giving as his 
 
 opinion that " Mrs. H 's maiden name may 
 
 have been Lightfoot, and that the Wheelers 
 would naturally use that name in relating the 
 story, which, perhaps, led to some confusion." It 
 certainly did. 
 
 Phillips here intervenes with an editorial. " We 
 give ready insertion to the above," he says, "but 
 still rely on the communication from ' Warmin- 
 sterensis,' which describes her as Wheeler's niece 
 and the wife of Axford." 
 
 This was no doubt taken as a word of encour- 
 agement by that authority, who, as he justly 
 claimed, had opened the subject in the Monthly 
 Magazine, and was entitled to a further hearing. 
 He now wrote as "W. H.," Warminster, but his 
 final letter led to a distinct darkening of counsel. 
 " It is certain," he says, " that the fair Quaker's 
 name was Hannah Whitefoot, not Wheeler." He 
 
 112
 
 THE ELUSIVE QUAKERESS 
 
 knew Axford's niece, it seems, " and showed her 
 only yesterday," the long and discursive specula- 
 tions of T. G. H. That lady admitted the topo- 
 graphical accuracy of the site of the shop, and of 
 the way the Prince got a vision of the girl on his 
 frequent visits to the Opera House. She was 
 married, however, to put a stop to these frequent 
 visits, Axford having paid her attentions when he 
 was shopman in Ludgate Hill. The pair lived 
 together for a fortnight or three weeks, " when she 
 was one day called out from dinner, put into a 
 chaise and four, carried off, and Axford never saw 
 her again. It was reported that the Prince had 
 several children by her, one or two of whom be- 
 came generals in the army. When Axford, many 
 years later, married a second wife, and it was 
 reported that Hannah was still living, "the late 
 Lord Weymouth, on inquiry, asserted that she was 
 not then living." 
 
 This prattling correspondence was even yet not 
 complete. In December of 1822, another corre- 
 spondent still, " Curiosus " of Clapham, obliged 
 the public with a further communication. He 
 remembered Axford the grocer at the corner of the 
 Old Bailey, and had dealt with him nearly half-a- 
 century. He was "a heavy, silent man, who 
 would never communicate a word on the subject. 
 The marriage had been arranged by an eminent 
 surgeon of that day, and he doubted any living 
 together of Hannah and her husband after the 
 marriage. There were a few children " by the 
 H 113
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 Prince ; " one was in the army, but never became 
 a general officer." "Curiosus" then mentions a 
 second Quaker lady who had a strong hold on the 
 affections of the royal Adonis, "but the attempt 
 was instantly and peremptorily discountenanced 
 by the lady." 
 
 Here, then, at last ends the Lightfoot story, as 
 it developed under the care of the industrious 
 Phillips in his precious Monthly Magazine up to 
 the year 1822, and the most superficial examina- 
 tion of the evidence adduced (always, be it noted, 
 that of neighbours, or cousins or relatives at 
 second or third hand) by these witnesses to the 
 truth, who were inspired by the death of the old 
 King to come forward and tell the editor all about 
 it, reveals a most amazing specimen of the story 
 of Cock and Bull. It will be seen that none of 
 these people come forward under their own names, 
 that few of them agree upon the name of the 
 Quakeress, still less upon the more important 
 question of marriage or no marriage, or date and 
 place of the ceremony, if admitted. So far, in- 
 deed, as plausibility, still less proof, is concerned, 
 the Lightfoot legend had not advanced in the 
 least in December of 1822 from the original crude 
 innuendo of the Citizen of nearly half-a-century 
 earlier. It was destined, however, to enter upon 
 another phase in connection with the miserable 
 controversy which raged about the life and death 
 of Queen Caroline, the unfortunate queen of King 
 George the Fourth. 
 
 114
 
 THE ELUSIVE QUAKERESS 
 
 In 1824 was published a pamphlet entitled An 
 Historical Fragment relative to her late Majesty 
 Queen Caroline, which was printed anonymously, 
 but the author of which offered to come forward 
 in the event of his statements being challenged. 
 The piece is a temperate defence of King 
 George's ill-used queen, or at least one quite tem- 
 perate in comparison with the heated polemics 
 which were commonly employed in attacking or 
 defending the character of that hapless lady. The 
 author was manifestly well instructed in the events 
 of the time, and was quite clearly in some sort of 
 official relation to the late Queen. His mention of 
 the Lightfoot story is only incidental, and he him- 
 self was obviously among the sceptics; but his 
 remarks are of interest as showing that Queen 
 Caroline was so convinced of its truth that she 
 felt her own position was strongly affected by its 
 consequences. 
 
 ; ' The Queen at this time," says the author, 
 " laboured under a very curious and, to me, un- 
 accountable, species of delusion. She fancied 
 herself in reality neither a queen nor a wife. She 
 believed his present Majesty to have been actually 
 married to Mrs. Fitzherbert, and she as fully be- 
 lieved his late Majesty to have been married to 
 Miss Hannah Lightfoot, the beautiful Quakeress, 
 previous to his marriage with Queen Charlotte; 
 that a marriage between King George and Queen 
 Charlotte was a second time solemnized at Kew 
 
 under the colour of an evening's entertainment, 
 H 2 115
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 after the death of Miss Lightfoot; and as that 
 lady did not die until after the births of the present 
 King and H.R.H. the Duke of York, her Majesty 
 really considered the Duke of Clarence the true 
 heir to the throne. Her Majesty thought, also, 
 that -the knowledge of this circumstance by the 
 ministers was the true cause of George the Fourth's 
 retaining the Tory administration when he came 
 into power." 
 
 The author of the Fragment proceeds to say 
 that the Queen was so convinced of the marriage 
 of Prince George and Hannah that she commis- 
 sioned him to open inquiries, and it is interesting 
 to learn that among the first of his instructions was 
 a command from the Queen to approach a Mrs. 
 Hancock, and ask that lady for any information 
 she might be disposed to give, "as she had had 
 the pleasure of being intimate with Miss Light- 
 foot." He did not, however, see his way to an 
 interview with that lady, though he understood 
 her to be " highly respectable." But he happened 
 to know an intimate friend of hers, whom he in- 
 duced to broach the subject of the alleged mar- 
 riage to Mrs. Hancock, and to ask her for any 
 particulars of its circumstances she felt disposed 
 to supply. The answer was not at all promising. 
 Mrs. Hancock refused all information to the am- 
 bassador, and contented herself with stating that 
 "her documents were in her possession." This 
 reply the author sent to Queen Caroline. He also 
 sent to the same high quarter some information 
 
 116
 
 THE ELUSIVE QUAKERESS 
 
 obligingly communicated to him by a Sir W . 
 
 This was substantially the story of the Monthly 
 Magazine, the arrangement of the details by Miss 
 Chudleigh, the marriage at Keith's chapel to 
 Axford, the spiriting away of the bride after the 
 ceremony, Axford's second marriage to Miss Bart- 
 leet, and the marriage of a daughter of Hannah's 
 to a Mr. Dalton of the East India Company 
 Service in Bengal, where he died, leaving three 
 daughters of his own. 
 
 As already stated, the author of this Fragment 
 refuses to vouch for the story, and deprecates 
 Queen Caroline's belief in it as a delusion, 
 an attitude which increases one's respect for his 
 acumen. His statements of the Queen's case, 
 however, were apparently uncontradicted, for his 
 name was not revealed, and from internal evidence 
 it seems very probable that the Fragment was 
 written by Queen Caroline's friend and champion, 
 Alderman Wood. Wood was much derided by 
 the King's party, but he was a responsible and 
 straightforward man, twice Lord Mayor, and an 
 energetic and fearless champion of what he con- 
 sidered the right. He acted as executor of the 
 Duke of Kent, and was the first subject honoured 
 with a title by Queen Victoria, who conferred a 
 baronetcy upon him in the opening year of her 
 reign. 
 
 The author of the Fragment, Wood or an- 
 other, points out the remarkable absence of any 
 information upon three important points in all the 
 
 117
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 Lightfoot stories. Hannah was never personally 
 known or recognized by the public, unlike other 
 ladies in the same relations with royalty of whom 
 history is full; her residence, while alive, was 
 never known; and there was no record of her 
 death, though there were vague rumours that she 
 died of grief in the parish of St. James's, and was 
 buried under a feigned name at Islington. 
 
 The Historical Fragment, as will have been 
 seen, does not help the story forward one step, but 
 among the concluding remarks of its author is one 
 which merits particular attention in the light of 
 developments which came later. 
 
 " I was also required," he writes, " to see the 
 person who styles herself (whether justly or un- 
 justly signifies little to the subject) Princess of 
 Cumberland, to know if any of her real or pre- 
 sumed documents contained reference to that 
 subject." 
 
 By the mention of this " Princess of Cumber- 
 land " we are introduced to a remarkable adven- 
 turess whose doings filled a great place in the 
 public interest for some years following 1817. 
 She was a woman of quite humble birth, but in 
 that year she boldly declared herself to be of 
 the blood royal, and she supported her pretensions 
 for the next ten years with an energy which was 
 only equalled by her impudence. Her connection 
 with the Lightfoot story will duly appear after a 
 short examination of her history, and it will be 
 seen that in her hands the legend entered a final 
 
 118
 
 THE ELUSIVE QUAKERESS 
 
 phase in which it reached a most surprising de- 
 velopment. Up to the time that the Princess of 
 Cumberland proclaimed her august lineage, she 
 was known to her acquaintance under the style of 
 plain Mrs. Olivia Serres, the wife of Mr. John 
 Thomas Serres, the marine painter, about whose 
 birth and parentage there was not the least mys- 
 tery in the world. All her friends knew that 
 Olivia was the daughter of a house-painter of 
 Warwick, Robert Wilmot by name, and that she 
 was born in that town on the 3rd of April 1772, and 
 baptized at St. Nicholas Church on the i5th of the 
 same month. She had a bachelor uncle, the Rev- 
 erend James Wilmot, a man of scholastic tastes 
 and attainments, a Fellow of Trinity College, 
 Oxford, and rector of Barton-on-the-Heath, War- 
 wickshire. Much of Olivia's early life was spent 
 with this uncle, but her father having later moved 
 to London, she joined him there, and at the age 
 of seventeen had made the acquaintance of her 
 future husband by taking lessons in painting from 
 him at her father's house. Serres then, and later, 
 enjoyed a certain reputation in his calling, and a 
 match was struck up between him and his pupil, 
 whom he married on the i7th of September 1791, at 
 her uncle's church at Barton-on-the-Heath. The 
 bride being under age a special licence was neces- 
 sary before her uncle could perform the ceremony, 
 and Olivia's father, Robert Wilmot, in making 
 application for this, swore by affidavit that he was 
 her natural and lawful father. 
 
 119
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 The marriage was not a success, and Olivia and 
 her husband separated in 1804, tne unfortunate 
 painter having been practically ruined by her ex- 
 travagance. Olivia herself seems to have been 
 an artist of a certain ability ; she exhibited both at 
 the Royal Academy and at the British Institution, 
 and by some chance introduction to a member of 
 the royal family, she was enabled to obtain the 
 appointment of landscape painter to the Prince of 
 Wales. This was in 1806, and the connection was 
 one of which she made full use later. 
 
 Olivia's flighty character soon appeared. In 
 1809 she had the impudence to open a correspond- 
 ence with the Prince of Wales, in which, while 
 begging pecuniary assistance herself, she oblig- 
 ingly offered to lend his Royal Highness the sum 
 of 20,000. She also turned her hand to other 
 sorts of writing poems, didactic essays like 
 Olivia's Letters to her Daughter, and even theo- 
 logical dissertations such zsSt.'Athanasius's Cree'd 
 Explained for the Advantage of Youth. But she 
 was not long contented with harmless exercises 
 of this description. Her uncle, the rector, had 
 died in 1808, and she began operations which 
 proved later to be of a very wide-reaching nature, 
 by attempting to make a mystery of the life of that 
 excellent divine. In 1813 she published a Memoir 
 of James Wilmot, D.D., in which she represented 
 him as a person of political and social importance, 
 and as a proof of his intellectual and political 
 accomplishments had no hesitation in attributing 
 
 120
 
 THE ELUSIVE QUAKERESS 
 
 to him the authorship of the Letters of /unius, a 
 ridiculous claim which she later supported by 
 evidence in handwriting which was obviously 
 forged. But another claim she made in 1813 was 
 her chef cTceuvre. In that year she presented a 
 solemn petition to the King in which she claimed 
 to be the daughter of Henry Frederick, Duke of 
 Cumberland, his Majesty's own brother. The 
 petition was, of course, ignored, but upon the 
 death of George the Third in 1820 she amplified 
 her pretensions in a memorial addressed to his 
 son, in which she assumed the title of Princess 
 Olive of Cumberland. In order to support her 
 claim, Mrs. Serres drove about in a hired carriage 
 bearing the royal arms, placed her servants in the 
 royal livery, and, to seal the matter, had her- 
 self rechristened at Islington Parish Church in 
 September of 1821 as "Olive, daughter of the 
 Duke of Cumberland and of Olive, his first 
 wife." 
 
 This claim of Olivia's was only finally elabor- 
 ated after a number of tentative pleadings, but it 
 was eventually set forth and explained as follows, 
 and was supported, as will be seen, by some amaz- 
 ing documentary evidence. 
 
 Dr. James Wilmot, it seems, while at Oxford, 
 instead of the quiet student he appeared to the 
 world, was a very human young fellow after all. 
 Stanislas King of Poland happened to come to 
 the city during his residence there, and the young 
 fellow fell in love with his sister the Princess. He 
 
 121
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 was fortunate enough to gain the affection of this 
 exalted lady, whom he married in circumstances of 
 profound secrecy. Their union was blessed with 
 a daughter, who was placed under the care of Dr. 
 Wilmot's sister, a Mrs. Payne, grew up under her 
 guardianship, and developed great personal at- 
 tractions. At the age of eighteen this young lady 
 enlisted the sighs of two no less highly placed 
 lovers than the Duke of Cumberland and the Earl 
 of Warwick. Lord Warwick, however, very 
 loyally withdrew in the presence of the greater 
 pretensions of the Duke, and very chivalrously 
 did all he could to forward the interest of that 
 potentate with the young lady. This seems to 
 have prospered, for the pair were duly married at 
 Lord Archer's house in London on March the 4th, 
 1767, the Reverend James Addez, D.D., officiat- 
 ing. Of this marriage, affirmed Olivia, she was 
 the daughter. Ten days after her birth, however, 
 she was substituted for a still-born daughter of 
 Robert Wilmot, the house-painter at Warwick, 
 whose reputed daughter she thenceforth became. 
 As a fact, she said, she had the blood of two royal 
 families in her veins. Her grandmother was the 
 sister of the King of Poland, and her father the 
 brother of his Majesty King George the Third, 
 while the eminent divine of Barton-on-the-Heath, 
 scholar, Fellow of Trinity, Oxon., and bachelor, 
 was no bachelor at all, but her own unworthy 
 grandpapa. 
 
 This enterprising lady was arrested for debt in 
 122
 
 THE ELUSIVE QUAKERESS 
 
 1821, and it then occurred to her to resist the 
 proceedings on the plea of her royal blood, which, 
 if admitted, would protect her from arrest in civil 
 cases. In the course of these proceedings she 
 produced what purported to be an early will of 
 George the Third, witnessed by the Earl of Chat- 
 ham and by Dunning the law lord, and bequeath- 
 ing 15,000 to " Olive, the daughter of our brother 
 of Cumberland." This will she endeavoured to 
 get before the King's Proctor, but the court held 
 it had no jurisdiction. Like many other impostors, 
 however, Olivia succeeded in getting reputable 
 people to interest themselves in her cause. Among 
 these was Sir Gerald Noel, who in 1823 presented 
 a petition to Parliament from the " Princess of 
 Cumberland," and moved for a committee of in- 
 quiry. The motion was seconded by Joseph 
 Hume, but Sir Robert Peel described Mrs. Serres's 
 claim as baseless, and the motion was negatived 
 without a division. Olivia's husband, the marine 
 painter, died in the King's Bench Prison in 1825, 
 and in his will took occasion to repudiate his wife's 
 claims as preposterous. Olivia spent the rest of 
 her days in difficulties, and herself died in the 
 same prison in 1834. 
 
 Such, then, were the credentials of the lady 
 who, as it appears from the remark of the author 
 of the Historical Fragment, had some connection, 
 occult or other, with the Lightfoot story. This 
 connection, indeed, appeared abundantly in the 
 annals of the year 1832, when was published that 
 
 123
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 extraordinary and scandalous series of libels en- 
 titled Authentic Records of the Court of Eng- 
 land, which appeared under the auspices of J. 
 Phillips, 334, Strand. The authorship of these 
 libels was for some time attributed to Lady Anne 
 Hamilton, the Lady in Waiting to Queen Caro- 
 line, which, however, that lady strenuously denied. 
 They have since been traced to the door of Mrs. 
 Serres, and are now accepted as from her hand, 
 either wholly or in part. The character of this 
 production may be estimated by the contents set 
 out in the preface. These include such headings 
 as "The Bigamy of George the Third"; "The 
 Unaccountable Death of King George the Third's 
 eldest Brother " ; " The Infamous and Cold- 
 blooded Murders of Princess Charlotte and 
 Caroline Queen of . England." It was in com- 
 pany such as this, and under the auspices of the 
 woman the bare outline of whose career we have 
 given, that the Lightfoot story was revived in 
 1832. 
 
 That story now assumed a lurid glow before 
 which the relatively harmless prattle of the 
 Monthly Magazine paled. According to Olivia, 
 Prince George, smitten by the charms of the 
 Quakeress, made no attempt to conceal his pains, 
 but feeling that his happiness depended "upon 
 receiving that lady in marriage, sounded every 
 individual in his immediate circle, or on the list 
 of the Privy Council, to ascertain who was most 
 to be trusted to bring it about." He at last con- 
 
 124
 
 THE ELUSIVE QUAKERESS 
 
 fided his aspirations to his brother, the Duke of 
 York, and to " another person." In the presence 
 of these two he was married at Curzon Street 
 Chapel, Mayfair, in 1759, and the marriage, says 
 the authoress, "was productive of issue." After 
 his accession in 1760 the young King took his 
 ministers into his confidence, made a clean breast 
 of his proceedings, and received the comfortable 
 assurance " that no cognizance should be taken at 
 any time upon his late unfortunate amour and 
 marriage." He was recommended, however, to 
 enter into another alliance without loss of time, 
 advice which, as we know, resulted in the arrival 
 of the Princess Charlotte of Mecklenburg Stre- 
 litz, and the wedding at St. James's on the i8th 
 of September 1761. "His Majesty's brother 
 Edward, who was present at the marriage with 
 the Quakeress, was now also present, and did 
 certainly use his every endeavour to support the 
 King through this trying ordeal," is Mrs. Serres's 
 comment on that ceremony. 
 
 The Earl of Abercorn and Lord Harcourt, how- 
 ever, found it necessary to inform the young 
 Queen of the existence of her husband's other 
 wife, and advised her "to inform herself on the 
 policy of the Kingdoms," in order to be sure " that 
 her issue might uninterruptedly possess the 
 throne." George and Charlotte were thus both 
 consumed with anxiety, "the first for love and 
 remorse in not having avowed the only wife of 
 his affections," the last because she feared that the 
 
 125
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 King was guilty of bigamy, "and that her pro- 
 geny would be known to be illegitimate." Mean- 
 while, the ministers seized Hannah unknown to 
 the King, spirited her away, gave a large sum to 
 " a young gentleman named Axford " to marry her, 
 but would give the King no hint of her where- 
 abouts. Mrs. Serres's finest stroke, however, 
 makes his Majesty fly for help to the austere 
 Chatham, and that imperious figure is represented 
 as prowling about London in disguise, searching 
 in vain for George's lost love. After this, we are 
 not surprised at anything. What more natural 
 than that Queen Charlotte should think all would 
 be right if she were married a second time to her 
 husband ? So our old friend Dr. Wilmot is trotted 
 out again, and composes the Queen's fears by 
 uniting her a second time to the gay George at 
 Kew Palace in the presence of the faithful Duke 
 of York. In all the circumstances set forth by 
 Mrs. Serres, it is highly probable that the King 
 had but a heavy time with Queen Charlotte, and 
 one is disposed to agree with her when she sug- 
 gests that the King's first mental illness was due to 
 the situation in which he found himself. " During 
 these lapses of memory," concludes Olivia, "he 
 was most passionate in his requests that the wife 
 of his choice should be brought to him." 
 
 Such was Olivia's contribution to the Lightfoot 
 tradition, obviously a concoction of the story as 
 set forth in the Monthly Magazine, to which, pos- 
 sibly, Olivia herself was a chief contributor, but 
 
 126
 
 THE ELUSIVE QUAKERESS 
 
 flavoured to meet the tastes of the readers of 
 the Authentic Record. It is, perhaps, not sur- 
 prising to find that even such a tale as this was 
 found good enough for another journalistic enter- 
 prise. Upon the republication of the precious 
 " Record," in 1841, with some amendments, it pro- 
 vided much lucrative copy for the industrious 
 journalist, Cyrus Redding, who 1 in the New 
 Monthly Magazine managed to continue un- 
 dimmed the glories of the older periodical, whose 
 pages we have had to consult at such length. 
 Redding published his recollections of an inter- 
 view with William Beckf ord, the author of Vathek, 
 potentate of Fonthill, and son of Alderman Beck- 
 ford, the friend and supporter of the great 
 Chatham, and the champion of liberty against the 
 tyranny of King George. 
 
 One's faith in Beckford's acumen, however, is 
 shaken at the outset, when he declared to Red- 
 ding his belief that Dr. Wilmot was the author 
 of the Letters of Junius. " No one had better 
 opportunities," he said ; " he was a good scholar, a 
 most intimate friend of Lord Chatham, and enjoyed 
 the most exclusive confidence of George the Third 
 for consenting to marry him to Miss Lightfoot in 
 1759 at Kew Chapel, William Pitt and Anne 
 Taylor being the parties witnessing, and, for aught 
 I know, that document is still in existence." It is 
 more than doubtful whether " that document " was 
 in existence at the time of the alleged interview 
 with Redding, but it was duly forthcoming when 
 
 127
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 it was wanted, and we shall later be able to 
 examine it, and quote the opinion of a court of 
 justice on its value and origin. 
 
 As already indicated, Olivia's unquiet spirit at 
 length found rest in St. James's churchyard, but 
 her claim was by no means ended with the closing 
 of her tomb. She left a daughter endowed with 
 a plentiful measure of her own energy and trucu- 
 lence, Lavinia Janetta Hortense de Serres. This 
 lady, like her mother, married an artist, Mr. 
 Antony Thomas Ryves, whom she divorced, and 
 whose name she dispensed with, and, upon her 
 mother's death, she assumed the style and title 
 " Princess Lavinia of Cumberland, and Duchess 
 of Lancaster." Like her mother, again, the Prin- 
 cess Lavinia was fortunate enough to find the 
 support of the amiable Sir Gerald Noel. They 
 filed a bill in 1844 against the Duke of Welling- 
 ton, as executor of the will of King George the 
 Fourth, for an account of the 15,000 which her 
 mother claimed under the alleged will of George 
 the Third. Lavinia and her adviser had no luck 
 in the courts, but, still undaunted, she in 1858 pub- 
 lished " An appeal to Royalty, a letter addressed 
 to her Most Gracious Majesty Queen Victoria, 
 from Lavinia, Princess of Cumberland and 
 Duchess of Lancaster." 
 
 In this piece, the Lightfoot legend attained its 
 zenith, and the reason for the adoption of the 
 venerable lie by the interesting Olivia and Lavinia 
 is at last made clear. Among a great many other 
 
 128
 
 THE ELUSIVE QUAKERESS 
 
 documents of equal value set out in the Appeal 
 is the following 
 
 " George R. .Whereas it is our royal command 
 that the birth of Olive the Duke of Cumberland's 
 daughter is never made known to the nation 
 during our reign, but from a sense of religious 
 duty we will that she be acknowledged by the 
 royal family after our death, should she survive 
 ourselves, in return for confidential service ren- 
 dered ourselves by Dr. Wilmot in the year 1759. 
 
 " (Signed) CHATHAM. 
 " WARWICK. 
 
 " KEW PALACE, May 2nd, 1773. 
 
 "Endorsed London, 1815. 
 
 " Delivered to Mrs. Olive Serres 
 by WARWICK. 
 
 " Witness EDWARD (i.e. the Duke 
 of Kent)." 
 
 The confidential service rendered by Dr. Wilmot 
 is also explained ; his help, indeed, seems to have 
 been invaluable, for he was obliging enough to 
 marry George and Hannah twice over in the same 
 year. The Appeal contains what purport to be 
 two certificates of the marriages ; the first is repre- 
 sented as having taken place at " Kew Chapel " 
 on the 1 7th April 1759, and is signed "George 
 P." and "Hannah"; the second "at their resi- 
 dence at Peckham" on 27th May, 1759, the parties 
 then signing as " George Guelph, and Hannah 
 Lightfoot." " J. Wilmot" professes to have been 
 the officiating priest at both ceremonies, and both 
 1 129
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 documents are signed by "William Pitt" and 
 " Anne Taylor," as witnesses. 
 
 Lastly there is a cry from the suffering Hannah 
 
 herself. 
 
 " HAMPSTEAD, July yth, 1768. 
 
 " Provided I depart this life, I recommend my 
 two sons and my daughter to the kind protection of 
 their royal father, my husband, his Majesty George 
 the Third, bequeathing whatever property I may 
 die possessed of to such dear offspring of my ill- 
 fated marriage. In case of the death of each of 
 my children, I give and bequeath to Olive Wilmot, 
 the daughter of my best friend, Dr. Wilmot, what- 
 ever property I am entitled to, or possessed of at 
 the time of my death. Amen. 
 
 " (Signed) HANNAH REGINA. 
 
 "Witness J. DUNNING. 
 
 "WILLIAM PITT." 
 
 The Appeal, as might be expected, failed alto- 
 gether to move Queen Victoria, but, by a great 
 stroke of luck for all parties, the Declaration of 
 Legitimacy Act of 1861 enabled the indefatigable 
 Lavinia at last to bring her case into a court of 
 law. In 1866 she petitioned the court to declare 
 that the Duke of Cumberland and Olive Wilmot 
 were lawfully married, and that Olive Serres was 
 their legitimate daughter. In order to establish 
 her case, Lavinia produced some seventy docu- 
 ments, including those set out above. But before 
 Sir Roundell Palmer, the late Lord Selborne, had 
 finished his address for the Crown, the jury 
 stopped the case, and declared the whole batch 
 to be " impudent forgeries." 
 
 130
 
 "z-J/n 
 
 n. H,,'ff*r ///.'. 
 & ' 
 
 ^V 
 
 ,/// 
 
 Tffjtr&ynS] > 
 
 S (^
 
 THE ELUSIVE QUAKERESS 
 
 After the exposure encountered by the Light- 
 foot tradition in the course of these proceedings, 
 it would seem superfluous to refer further to a 
 bubble so effectually pricked. It will be recalled 
 that during a career of nearly a century this amaz- 
 ing and impudent libel had been justified by no 
 shred of documentary evidence upon which the 
 slightest reliance could be placed; that all its 
 anonymous propagators were disagreed upon such 
 essential points as dates, names, and the nature 
 of the connection between the Prince and his 
 victim, or the place or places where it was estab- 
 lished. The story, indeed, was obviously nothing 
 but a vulgar scandal, promoted originally by a low- 
 class journalist for his own purposes, and propa- 
 gated by others of the same class in succeeding 
 generations for similar ends. It was finally taken 
 by a needy adventuress from the dirty pages in 
 which it had grown and flourished, served up with 
 improvements in the scurrilous Authentic Records 
 of the Court of England,, embodied in preposterous 
 Appeals and Memorials, and put forward at last, 
 supported by a whole series of unblushing for- 
 geries in a court of law, where it was at once blown 
 to atoms in 1866. At that point one would like to 
 leave it, were it not that the interest excited by the 
 proceedings of 1866 led to another remarkable 
 revival of the story, and to some equally remark- 
 able researches, which resulted in the discovery 
 of the identity of some of the actors. 
 
 This new aspect of the matter arose from the 
 12
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 adoption of the story of Prince George's amour 
 by a responsible man of letters. In 1866, Mr. 
 John Heneage Jesse, who was already known as 
 a reputable historian of the lighter side of the 
 history of the eighteenth century, published his 
 History of the Court of George the Third. In this 
 work he accepted the King's youthful intrigue as 
 authentic ; he wrote of it as " the early and notori- 
 ous passion," and set out at length in his pages 
 the version of the Monthly Magazine, with a few 
 variations. While admitting that the Secret 
 History was " spoiled by exaggerations," he gave 
 it as his opinion that some of its statements were 
 worthy of credence, and quoted Cyrus Redding's 
 babbling account of his interview years previously 
 with William Beckford in support of that opinion. 
 
 This endorsement of the story by a man of 
 Jesse's standing raised the legend to a higher 
 plane of discussion than it had hitherto occupied, 
 and produced, also, a new class of sceptics, his- 
 torical students and antiquaries, who are apt to 
 require chapter and verse for statements confi- 
 dently made by historical authors. At the head 
 of these critics was the erudite Mr. Thorns, the 
 founder of that valuable periodical, Notes and 
 Queries; and in that paper, accordingly, as also 
 in the staid pages of the 'Athetuzum, the contest 
 raged afresh. 
 
 It is unnecessary here to follow the details of the 
 fight; to show how Thorns tore the pitiful story, 
 as we have related it, to pieces; to see him, with 
 
 132
 
 THE ELUSIVE QUAKERESS 
 
 great solemnity, tracing the movements of Lord 
 Chatham on particular dates to prove that he 
 could not have been engaged in witnessing 
 bigamous marriages of his sovereign, and quoting 
 King George's own letters with the same object. 
 On the other hand, Jesse stood gallantly to his 
 guns, and set himself to collect further evidence 
 in support of his own view. The result of his 
 researches duly appeared in the Athenceum of 
 June the I5th, 1867, and it must be confessed that 
 at first sight it appeared that he had completely 
 vanquished Mr. Thorns. It is true Mr. Jesse had 
 to rely, like some of his predecessors, upon the 
 evidence of two cousins once removed of Hannah 
 Lightfoot, whom he was fortunate enough to dis- 
 cover, but he succeeded in establishing the identity 
 of that long-suffering damsel beyond any doubt 
 whatever. He not only discovered a certificate 
 of her birth, but triumphantly set out in the. 
 Athenaum a copy of the certificate of her marriage 
 to Isaac Axford, a document so important that it 
 seems to claim a place here. 
 
 '' This is to certify that in the registers of mar- 
 riages solemnized at Mayfair Chapel, which 
 registers are preserved in the vestry of St. 
 George's Parish, Hanover Square, there appears 
 under date of nth of December 1753, the follow- 
 ing entry 
 
 ' Isaac Axford, of St. Martin's, Ludgate, and 
 Hannah Lightfoot, of St. James's, Westminster.' 
 
 133
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 "As witness my hand this nth day of June, one 
 thousand eight hundred and sixty-seven. 
 
 "JAMES MACREADY, 
 "Curate of St. George's, Hanover Square." 
 
 Thus did Mr. Jesse establish at last the identity 
 of the mysterious Quakeress, that of Isaac Axford, 
 and the marriage of the pair in 1753. He estab- 
 lishes also the fact that Hannah was twenty-three 
 years of age at the time of her alleged abduction, 
 and that her royal lover, if such, indeed, George 
 were, was fifteen when he committed the supposed 
 atrocity. 
 
 The news of Mr. Jesse's discovery was none 
 the less a blow for Mr. Thorns, but that gentle- 
 man as a painful searcher after the truth allowed 
 no personal disappointment of his own to 'divert 
 him from his pursuit. With the fresh clues thus 
 afforded, indeed, he set about some researches of 
 his own, and was rewarded with some very in- 
 teresting results. The first of these established 
 the fact that Isaac Axford, then described as a 
 widower, married Mary Bartleet at Warminster 
 on the 3rd of December 1759. But Mr. Thoms's 
 most interesting discovery concerned Hannah 
 Lightfoot herself. He was so fortunate as to 
 obtain the assistance of the custodian of the 
 records of the Society of Friends at Westminster, 
 among which is preserved a report of some pro- 
 ceedings directly concerned with the conduct of 
 that mysterious young woman. The Friends who 
 
 134
 
 THE ELUSIVE QUAKERESS 
 
 attended the quarterly meeting of the Society, held 
 on the ist of January 1755, were informed that 
 Hannah had broken the rules of their order by 
 marrying one not of their Society, by allowing her- 
 self to be married by a priest, and finally, as was 
 understood "from current rumour," by abscond- 
 ing from her husband. The meeting thereupon 
 appointed a committee, whose names are given, 
 to make inquiries. In September they reported 
 that they " were informed by her mother that she 
 was married by a priest, but that they were not 
 fully satisfied that she was separated from her 
 husband." They continued their inquiries, but 
 could never get sight of the elusive la'dy, "nor 
 hear where she can be spoke with." Finally, on 
 the 5th of March 1756, the Society issued its ban 
 of excommunication in the following terms 
 
 "Whereas Hannah Lightfoot, a person 
 educated under our own profession, and who for 
 several years past resided within the compass of 
 this meeting, did then enter into a state of mar- 
 riage by the priest with one not of our order, which 
 is directly repugnant to the good rules and orders 
 well known to be established among us ; we there- 
 fore being desirous, as much as in us lies, to clear 
 the truth which we profess and ourselves from any 
 aspersions which through the misconduct of the 
 said Hannah Lightfoot may be cast upon Friends, 
 do hereby testify against such her proceedings as 
 aforesaid, and dismiss her for the same as one 
 with whom we can have no fellowship, until, from 
 a penitent mind and a true contrition of heart, she 
 
 135
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 shall be induced to signify her unfeigned sorrow 
 for her offence; and that this may be her case is 
 what we must truly desire." 
 
 Here, then, at last, more than a hundred years 
 after the fame of her beauty brought her name 
 upon men's lips for a brief period, comes to light 
 through the controversies of two men of letters all 
 that is known of Hannah Lightfoot. We know 
 now that she was married at the age of three-and- 
 twenty, that her husband remarried six years later, 
 and that she was dismissed from the Society of 
 Friends. Those are the facts of her history about 
 which there can be no doubt, the rumour that she 
 had separated from her husband in 1756 the 
 Friends failed to confirm, and they were content 
 to dismiss her from their Society by a decree 
 which, with all its pious severity, yet closes with 
 something like a benediction. It is unnecessary 
 to labour the obvious point that all that had been 
 written about her doings and her connection with 
 King George for a century was the mere surmise 
 of scandal, which is as applicable to the King as 
 it is to the equator. She may have been abducted, 
 or she may have deserted her husband, but the 
 fact that Axford married again within less than 
 six years, at a time when bigamy was a capital 
 offence, is strong presumption that he was then 
 convinced of her death. The evidence, if such 
 it can be called, which would connect the names 
 of Prince George and Hannah Lightfoot would 
 fail to convict a Rochester or a Casanova of the 
 
 136
 
 THE ELUSIVE QUAKERESS 
 
 commonest intrigue ; still less, surely, will it brand 
 as adulterer or bigamist a shy and awkward boy 
 of fifteen whose youth was watched over by the 
 most careful of mothers and the most jealous of 
 politicians; a prince, moreover, who, when at last 
 he emerged as King of England, became, as the 
 husband of Queen Charlotte, a pattern of domestic 
 virtue. 
 
 As to Hannah Lightfoot, it would seem that 
 she has disappeared again into the darkness, with- 
 out leaving a clue by which one can even guess 
 at her destiny. There is, however, just a pos- 
 sibility that some light may eventually be thrown 
 upon her history from a source which is indicated 
 in that monumental bibliography of works relating 
 to the Society of Friends published by Mr. Joseph 
 Smith in 1867. In the supplement to that work 
 appears the following reference to a manuscript, 
 the resting-place of which, however, is not given : 
 " Biographical notice of Hannah Lightfoot," by 
 Joseph Smith. 
 
 In conclusion, it may be mentioned that it is 
 possible the features of this mysterious girl have 
 been preserved in a contemporary portrait. Dur- 
 ing the interest excited by the controversy between 
 Mr. Thorns and Mr. Jesse it was stated that her 
 portrait, by Reynolds or Gainsborough, was in the 
 possession of the Sackville family at Knole. In 
 reply to an inquiry by Mr. Jesse in 1867, Lord De 
 la Warr, who then owned the picture, wrote as 
 follows 
 
 137
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 " In the general catalogue of the pictures at 
 Knole the portrait in question is designated as 
 being that of ' Mrs. Axford, the fair Quakeress/ 
 by Sir Joshua Reynolds, and in a private list of 
 pictures, bought by the third Duke of Dorset, this 
 picture is found with the description above. Be- 
 yond this, the Dorset family have no history of 
 the picture." 
 
 138
 
 Ill 
 
 A ROYAL ROMANCE 
 
 i39
 
 Ill 
 
 A ROYAL ROMANCE 
 
 As old King George the Second was taking 
 the air in Kensington Gardens one fine summer 
 morning in 1750, a little girl of some five years, 
 who was walking with her sisters and the Swiss 
 nurse, broke away from the party, skipped up to 
 the King, dropped a curtsey, and greeted him 
 with the remark, " Comment vous pvrtez-vous, M. 
 le roi ? Vous avez id une grande et belle maison, 
 riest-ce -pas? " The old King, familiar, and per- 
 haps bored, with the pomp and etiquette of his 
 usual relations with his subjects, was pleased 
 beyond measure at the originality of this intro- 
 duction. He took notice of the child, often had 
 her to visit him at the palace afterwards, even 
 romped with her, and put her in a large china jar, 
 where, instead of showing fright, she sang Mal- 
 brouck s'en va-t-en guerre at him from under the 
 lid. The little lady was Lady Sarah Lennox; 
 and as daughter of the Duke of Richmond, a 
 great officer of the court, she and her sisters had 
 the privilege of being in the gardens to see the 
 royal promenade. It was the prettiest entrance 
 
 141
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 imaginable into the great world where this young 
 lady was destined for a time to play a great part. 
 Ten or a dozen years later all fashionable London 
 was agog with excitement, wrote letters, reported 
 every movement and every rumour of Lady Sarah, 
 for it was the question of 1761 whether she was or 
 was not to become Queen of England. 
 
 Any one who reads much in the annals of the 
 picturesque eighteenth century cannot fail to be 
 struck with the smallness of the English society 
 which controlled matters in those days. You may 
 take the account of their times by any of the 
 recording angels of that period from Hervey, 
 who sneered at most of what he saw at the court 
 of George the Second; to Wraxall, who expiated 
 some of his false entries in the King's Bench 
 and find that the doings of a few well-born 
 families provided them all with the bulk of their 
 diverting gossip. It was essentially the age of a 
 few great names. A Walpole, a Pulteney, a 
 Pelham perhaps, two Pitts, and two Foxes were 
 the great figures in politics during the reigns of 
 three Georges. The members and connections of 
 a few other great families rang the changes for a 
 century on all the public offices and fat sinecures 
 from the Court to the Custom House. The 
 army and the navy were officered from the same 
 class, and it was only in the higher walks of the 
 law that the outsider got a chance. Even the 
 law came to be the happy hunting-ground of a 
 few energetic Scotsmen like Murray and Wedder- 
 
 142
 
 A ROYAL ROMANCE 
 
 burn and Erskine, who got most of its prizes. 
 Fashionable and official England, in fact, was a 
 small coterie, whose members were known to each 
 other personally, and were connected by ties of 
 marriage or relationship or interest, which bound 
 the whole body into a compact homogeneous mass. 
 The men were to be found within the limits of two 
 or three clubs White's almost alone during the 
 early part of the century, and with Almack's or 
 Brooks's, and perhaps Boodle's, during the second 
 half. The wives and daughters of these men were 
 the great ladies of society, who lived and died in 
 a few great country houses and a few great town 
 mansions, danced and flirted at Ranelagh and 
 Vauxhall, and went to court when they were 
 young, and to Bath when age and rheumatism 
 overtook them. Half-a-dozen great portrait 
 painters, with Reynolds and Gainsborough and 
 Romney at their head, painted the England of the 
 eighteenth century or, at any rate, the part of it 
 which really counted. 
 
 The family of which the little lady whose youth 
 we recall was the youngest daughter but one was 
 of the very pick of this restricted society. Her 
 father, the second Duke of Richmond, a seigneur 
 of the very highest ton, stood close to royalty 
 itself. Whenever the King went over to Han- 
 over, either to make love to his numerous lady 
 friends in that kingdom, or to fight valiantly, and 
 shake his fist in the enemy's face, as he did at 
 Dettingen, the Crown was put in commission, of 
 
 H3
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 which the duke was a member. His duchess was 
 a Cadogan, and his own high rank and the pro- 
 mise and abilities of his son made the family of 
 Lennox one of the very highest consideration in 
 the kingdom. 
 
 There was another family which by its energy 
 and ability had established itself firmly in the 
 small world of which we write. From the time 
 that old Sir Stephen Fox, a strange compound of 
 integrity and suppleness, founded the family for- 
 tunes at the court of Charles the Second, until 
 the genius of the race burnt out with the life of 
 Charles James Fox in 1806, one or other of the 
 Foxes had contrived to keep himself before the 
 very face and eyes of the country. The repre- 
 sentative of the family at the time we are recalling 
 was the son of the second marriage and of the old 
 age of Sir Stephen, Henry or, as he was known 
 at White's and the House of Commons, Harry 
 Fox. A year or two before little Lady Sarah was 
 born, the Lennox and Fox families had become 
 allied by marriage. The Lennoxes supplied the 
 breeding, and the Foxes the abilities, which 
 appeared in such splendour in the person of 
 Charles James Fox in the next generation. We 
 know so much now, but the marriage at the time 
 was considered a mesalliance of the most heartless 
 and hopeless kind. 
 
 It was in 1744 that Harry Fox a prominent 
 man in the debates, it is true, and a brother of 
 Lord Ilchester, but still a younger son dared to 
 
 144
 
 A ROYAL ROMANCE 
 
 run away and conclude a secret marriage with 
 Lady Georgina Caroline, eldest daughter of the 
 Duke of Richmond. It was a marriage of defi- 
 ance. The duke and duchess knew of the attach- 
 ment, and had provided another match for the 
 young lady. The young lady, with much spirit, 
 shaved off her eyebrows to make herself unpre- 
 sentable to the new swain. Mr. Fox pressed his 
 suit all the harder, got a special licence, and pre- 
 vailed upon the young lady to accompany him to 
 the house of his friend Sir Charles Hanbury 
 Williams, and fashionable and official London 
 was convulsed when news of the match came out 
 
 Fashionable and official London was mostly at 
 the opera on the evening of May 4, 1744, when 
 the blow fell. Amongst others, Sir Charles was 
 there, and he wrote and told Harry all about it 
 next day. " From the box where I was," he wrote, 
 " I saw the news of your match run along the front 
 boxes exactly like fire in a train of gunpowder." 
 
 It must have been pretty to see. Instead of 
 listening to the dulcet tones of the Frasi who was 
 warbling at the footlights to an accompaniment 
 of ogling from the youth of White's in the stage 
 boxes, the ladies leant round the partitions of the 
 front row, and passed the news behind their fans : 
 " .The rage of the duke and his duchess was very 
 high," they whispered. " They had put off the 
 great ball fixed for the morrow, and had gone off 
 to Goodwood." His grace had written to Mr. 
 Pelham, the Secretary of State, that Miss Pelham 
 K 145
 
 and Lady Lucy Clinton must not visit the offend- 
 ing couple. 
 
 The house at once resolved itself into two 
 factions, and dear pleasant young Mr. Horace 
 Walpole, who was thoroughly at home in such a 
 matter, hearing of the ducal ban on all visitors to 
 the daughter, went straightway to Williams's box, 
 and begged to know the earliest moment that he 
 might be allowed to pay his respects to that lady. 
 
 Never was such a hubbub in town. They dis- 
 cussed the match at tea-tables and in drawing- 
 rooms, and the story of the loves of Henry and 
 Caroline was the one subject of conversation and 
 dispute. All London wrote to the duke and 
 duchess with condolences " at ye unhappy affair " 
 with assurances of its own innocence of all par- 
 ticipation in the plot; and mostly with indiffer- 
 ent success. Mr. Pelham wrote; Lord Ilchester, 
 Harry's own brother, wrote; Lord Lincoln wrote 
 an almost tearful letter. The Duke of Marl- 
 borough, who gave the bride away, was much 
 blamed; and Williams, who provided the house 
 and the parson, was held up to execration. The 
 Dukes of Grafton and Devonshire had a warm 
 dispute at White's about it, " the former a-tearing 
 the whole to pieces, the latter defending it." The 
 pother even spread to the palace, where " Blood 
 Royal had the greatest weight" against Harry 
 Fox and his bride. 
 
 Some of the cooler heads refused to take the 
 matter so seriously. There was bluff old Sir 
 
 146
 
 A ROYAL ROMANCE 
 
 Robert Walpole, now Lord Orford, who " couldn't 
 understand that the nation was undone because 
 Lady Caroline Lennox was married to Mr. Fox." 
 Lord Carteret, too the clever, cynical Carteret, 
 about whom one imagines so much, and knows so 
 little " diverted himself with it." No wonder ! 
 He was walking through the anteroom at Ken- 
 sington Palace, and saw the Duke of Newcastle 
 and the Duke of Dorset in conference with pro- 
 digiously long faces. They called him to them, 
 said they were talking about a most unfortunate 
 affair, and that they should make no secret to him 
 that they were greatly affected by it. " Upon 
 this," says Carteret, " I thought our fleet or our 
 armies were lost, or Mons betrayed into the hands 
 of the French, and at last it came out that Harry 
 Fox was married, which I knew before." Here, 
 in the King's palace, were his Secretary of State 
 and his President of the Council shaking their 
 heads over this wonderful marriage, instead of 
 attending to the business of the nation. It is not 
 surprising to hear that the King was "violently 
 angry." 
 
 We recall so much of Mr. Fox's family history 
 because, as we shall see, he and Lady Caroline 
 stood almost in relation of parents to the young 
 lady who is the subject of this paper, when her 
 own were removed by death a few years later. 
 Mr. Fox, too, made great use of his experience 
 in what was held at the time to be a most irregular 
 and romantic affair when a much more irregular 
 K 2 147
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 and romantic alliance was the burning question 
 of 1761. Meanwhile it is pleasant to read that 
 he and his wife were forgiven by the offended 
 duke and duchess. The occasion was the birth 
 of Henry Fox's firstborn, Stephen; and the par- 
 don was conveyed in as quaint and touching a 
 letter as was ever written. " Wee long to see your 
 dear innocent Child," wrote the duke and duchess, 
 " and that has not a little contributed to our pre- 
 sent tenderness for you." So the offending pair 
 were received back into favour, and the alliance 
 of the Foxes and the Lennoxes was at last 
 acknowledged and confirmed. 
 
 It must have been very shortly after we saw 
 little Lady Sarah present herself to George the 
 Second in the garden that she was left an orphan 
 by the death of her mother the duchess. There 
 was a family council in 1751, no doubt, where it 
 was decided that she and her little sister Cecilia 
 should live out their childhood with their married 
 sister, Lady Kildare, in Ireland. So they and 
 their nurses and their dolls were packed off by 
 the coach, and made the long journey by the old 
 road to Chester and Holyhead, perhaps returning 
 with my lady to Carton after the season of 1751. 
 For eight years, at Carton, Lady Sarah breathed 
 the soft air of the Kildare plains, and perhaps 
 acquired the wondrous beauty of complexion 
 which was one of her charms when she came back 
 to London a tall girl of fourteen the lustrous 
 beauty of skin which you may see in the faces of 
 
 148
 
 A ROYAL ROMANCE 
 
 the women and children on those same plains 
 to-day. 
 
 In 1758 Lady Sarah returned to London and to 
 society, and to the care of Harry Fox and his wife 
 at Holland House as we say, a tall, beautiful, 
 shy girl of fourteen. George the Second was 
 nearing the end of his tether, but, possessed of a 
 taste for a pretty face to the last, heard of the new 
 young beauty, and expressed a wish to see her. 
 He remembered the little girl of the gardens and 
 the china jar, no doubt. So the tall shy girl is 
 carried to the palace, and approaches the Presence 
 the Presence surrounded by its court and accom- 
 panied by its grandson, the Prince of Wales, a 
 young man of ruddy countenance and straight- 
 forward manners, with a receding forehead but a 
 monstrously firm jaw, both features indexes of 
 some of the events which were destined to stand 
 out in his long reign of sixty years. But poor 
 Lady Sarah has lost all her early confidence in 
 the presence of royalty ; she stammers and blushes 
 when his Majesty condescends to joke and poke 
 fun at her; his Majesty is disappointed and says, 
 " Pooh ! she's grown quite stupid," and goes back 
 to his whist with the Walmoden who pulls the 
 chair from under him, and amuses him generally 
 in a way he can understand. But the young Prince 
 of Wales, like the rest of the town, is struck with 
 the beauty of the blushing girl; and, free for a 
 moment from the tutelage of his mother, the 
 Dowager Princess, and his groom of the stole, 
 
 149
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 my Lord Bute, falls headlong in love with Lady 
 Sarah. 
 
 The time was ripe for the appearance of another 
 beauty. The incomparable Gunnings were just 
 married, and the eldest, poor Maria, was dying of 
 consumption at Croome. The young girl from 
 Kildare succeeded these paragons and stepped 
 into their place by common consent of the town. 
 Mr. Reynolds painted her twice : first at the win- 
 dow of Holland House with a dove, with her 
 cousin Lady Sue Strangways, and her nephew Mr. 
 Charles James Fox, coming round the corner 
 below. Later he painted her in the classic manner, 
 sacrificing to the Graces. Both pictures are at- 
 tractive enough, but for once we feel that Mr. 
 Reynolds allowed the true beauty of his subject 
 to escape him. 
 
 Of that beauty there can be no doubt. " Her 
 beauty is not easily described," says Harry Fox, 
 "otherwise than by saying she had the finest Com- 
 plexion and most beautiful Hair and prettyest Per- 
 son that ever was seen, with a sprightly and fine 
 Air, a pretty Mouth and remarkably fine Teeth and 
 excess of Bloom in her Cheeks, little Eyes, but this 
 is not describing Her, for Her great Beauty was a 
 peculiarity of Countenance, and made Her at the 
 same time different from and prettyer than any 
 other Girl I ever saw." Fox may be thought par- 
 tial to his sister-in-law, but Horace Walpole cer- 
 tainly was not. Yet Horace was thrown off his 
 guard by the beauty of Lady Sarah. They played 
 
 150
 
 Lady Sarah Lennox, with Lady Susan Strangways 
 and Charles James Fox 
 
 From a Painting by Sir Joshua Reynolds 
 
 (By permission of Henry Graves & Co)
 
 A ROYAL ROMANCE 
 
 Jane Shore at Holland House, Lady Sarah in 
 the title part, and Mr. Charles Fox and Lady Sue 
 Strangways, and Charles's little brother Harry 
 dressed up as a bishop. " Lady Sarah was in 
 white," wrote Horace, "with her hair about her 
 ears and on the ground, and no Magdalen by 
 Correggio was half so lovely and expressive." 
 
 The town was in raptures, in fact, and all the 
 young men were making sheeps' eyes at the beauty 
 of sixteen. There was my Lord Carlisle; my 
 Lord Errol, whom she refused; my Lord New- 
 bottle, with whom she flirted desperately; Mr. 
 Thomas Bunbury, whom she afterwards married; 
 and no doubt a score of others whose names are 
 not recorded. Last of all there was the Prince of 
 Wales, now become George the Third of Eng- 
 land, who was a willing victim. He saw Lady 
 Sarah often. There was no flirtation here; the 
 King was in deadly earnest. There was no stupid 
 Royal Marriage Act in force ; this the King, per- 
 haps in the light of his own experience, thought- 
 fully provided for his relations when they began 
 to marry into Horry Walpole's family. But at 
 present, as we say, the King knew his own mind ; 
 and there is no doubt that, if Lady Sarah had 
 known hers, she might have ascended the throne 
 in 1761 as Queen of Great Britain and Ireland. 
 
 Horace Walpole accused Henry Fox of intrigu- 
 ing to bring the match about, and the remark is 
 a proof of Horace's sagacity. Harry Fox was not 
 loth to see his sister-in-law Queen of England, we
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 may be sure. Mr. Fox was the obedient, humble 
 servant of the court at any time, and when, two 
 years later, the court wanted some instrument to 
 bring about the peace with France, they employed 
 Mr. Fox, who did the business by means of a 
 bribery which made that age, not at all nice in 
 such matters, stare and gasp with wonder, or at 
 least that portion of it which got none of the 
 money. 
 
 Lady Sarah was often at court, and the King's 
 flame burnt brighter every day. There were soft 
 passages in the windows of the palace, and the 
 King at least grew conspicuously amorous. But 
 George, one imagines, was a clumsy lover of the 
 blundering, downright type. He talked so quickly 
 that his words overran each other, spluttered a 
 good deal, and poked his face very close to the 
 person he was addressing. He may have fright- 
 ened the young girl; there was certainly little 
 response on her part. 
 
 Harry Fox was so interested in the progress of 
 the affair that he left a detailed account among his 
 papers of what we may consider its central inci- 
 dent. " On Thursday," says he, " Lady Susan 
 [Strangways] was at Court with Ly Albemarle, 
 Lady Sarah on the other side of the room with 
 Ly Car. Fox." The young King went up to Lady 
 Sue and asked her when she would return to town 
 from Somersetshire, where he heard she was 
 going. ' * Not before winter, Sir/ said Lady Sue. 
 * Would you like to see a Coronation ? ' 
 152
 
 A ROYAL ROMANCE 
 
 " ' Yes, Sir, I hope I should come to see that.' 
 
 " ' Won't it be a much finer sight when there is 
 a Queen ? ' 
 
 " ' To be sure, Sir.' 
 
 " ' I've had a great many applications from 
 abroad, but I don't like them,' added his Majesty, 
 ' I have had none at home, I should like that 
 better.' 
 
 " Lady Sue was frightened, and said nothing," 
 records Mr. Fox. 
 
 " ' What do you think of your friend, you know 
 who I mean. Don't you think her fittest? ' 
 
 "'Think, Sir?' said the frightened girl. 
 ' I think none so fitt,' says the King. 
 
 He then went across the room to Lady Sarah, 
 bade her ask her friend what he had been saying, 
 and make her fell all. She assured him that she 
 would. 
 
 "H.M. is not given to joke," comments Mr. 
 Fox, "and this would be a very bad joke too. 
 Is it serious ? Strange if it is, and a strange way 
 of going about it." 
 
 " The next Sunday sennight," continues Mr. 
 Fox, " Lady Sarah go's to Court, out of humour 
 and had been crying all the morning." The fact 
 is the poor girl was bewildered. The fascinating 
 Newbottle, with whom she was flirting so hard, 
 was too much in her mind to allow her to think of 
 the greater matter which was in suspense. 
 
 : ' The moment the King saw her," says Mr. 
 Fox, " he go's to her. 
 
 153
 
 [N THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 " ' Have you seen your friend lately ? ' said he. 
 
 " ' Yes, Sir.' 
 ' Has she told you what I said to her ? " 
 
 " ' Yes, Sir/ 
 
 ' What do you think of it ? tell me, for my 
 happiness depends upon it.' 
 
 " ' Nothing, Sir.' 
 
 " Upon which his Majesty turned upon his 
 heel and exclaimed pettishly, ' Nothing comes of 
 nothing/ and left the room." 
 
 Shortly afterwards Lady Sarah went into Som- 
 ersetshire, rode out, fell with her horse, and frac- 
 tured her leg. The faithless Newbottle made 
 some unfeeling remark when told of the accident, 
 the faithful King was all solicitude for the suffer- 
 ing young beauty. He asked Conolly a hundred 
 questions about her, and Mr. Fox was ready to 
 reply to a hundred more. There had been a 
 rumour that the King was about to marry a prin- 
 cess of Brunswick, and on a Sunday Mr. Fox 
 satisfied himself that the rumour was without 
 foundation. "On Monday, therefore, I went to 
 Court," he wrote in a memorandum addressed 
 "to all whom it may concern." He determined, 
 he said, that the King should speak to him about 
 " Lady Sal," if he could bring it about. After "a 
 few loose questions " the King supposed Fox by 
 that time settled at Holland House. "Now I 
 have you," said Mr. Fox to himself, and replied to 
 the King, " I never go there, Sir; there is nobody 
 there." 
 
 154
 
 A ROYAL ROMANCE 
 
 " Where then is Lady Caroline ? " 
 " In Somersetshire, Sir, with Lady Sarah." 
 At the mention of the name the King's manner 
 and countenance softened, we are told, and he 
 coloured a little. Fox went on to describe the 
 accident the fall on the stony road, the horse 
 struggling for a moment to get up, his shoulder 
 grinding Lady Sarah's leg against the stones, the 
 terrible pain in the coach before she got to Mr. 
 Hoare's the surgeon. "The King drew up his 
 breath, wreathed himself, and made the counten- 
 ance of one feeling pain"; and Mr. Fox says to 
 himself, " Thinks I you shall hear of that again." 
 So he went on to say that she was " chearfull now 
 and patient and good humoured to a degree," and 
 so on, but worked back to the accident again 
 with richer details than ever, and the King again 
 sucked in his breath and changed countenance 
 when Henry mentioned the great pain. 
 
 " Don't tell Lady Sarah," he wrote to his wife, 
 "that I am sure that he intends to marry her, 
 for I am not sure of it but I am sure that he loves 
 her better than Nfewbottle] does." Wisdom was 
 surely justified of her child when this paper ap- 
 peared in Princess Lichtenstein's book to vindi- 
 cate Mr. Walpole's remark that Harry Fox was 
 intriguing to make his sister-in-law Queen of Eng- 
 land. One is inclined, therefore, to believe 
 Horace when he declares that, when Lady Sarah 
 had recovered and come back to London, she 
 watched for the King as he rode in from Kew 
 
 155
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 made hay at him, in fact, in the grounds of Hol- 
 land House "in a fancied habit." It may be; 
 who shall blame her ? The account of the King's 
 solicitude lost none of its beauty in Fox's telling, 
 we may be sure; and U affaire Newbottle may 
 have been ended by his unfeeling jest. The 
 young girl at last, perhaps, knew her mind; but 
 it was too late. There was more in the rumour 
 of the Princess from Mecklenburg than Harry 
 Fox thought. Others were interested in the 
 King's evident penchant for Lady Sarah Lord 
 Bute, and the Princess Dowager, and the Privy 
 Council. The conscientious young King sub- 
 mitted his own personal feelings to the advice of 
 his Ministers. Colonel Grahame, who had been 
 sent all over Europe to inspect the likely royal 
 spinsters, reported favourably on Princess Char- 
 lotte of Mecklenburg-Strelitz, and the royal 
 romance was at an end. 
 
 It was all over ; there was no doubt about it at 
 all. The King summoned the Council to an- 
 nounce the marriage, and Lord Harcourt went 
 over for the Princess, and the little self-possessed 
 lady came across the Channel to Harwich, and 
 was not sea-sick for above half-an-hour, but sang 
 and played on the harpsichord nearly all the way. 
 And when she got to England she was not dis- 
 mayed by the greatness of the occasion or the 
 splendour of the preparations; but she wondered 
 a little at the number of ladies sent to meet her, 
 and exclaimed, " Mon Dieu, il y en a tant!" 
 
 156
 
 A ROYAL ROMANCE 
 
 She turned pale and her lip trembled a little 
 as they approached the palace. But when the 
 Duchess of Hamilton, the younger of the incompar- 
 able Gunnings, smiled, she recovered herself and 
 said, " My dear duchess, you may laugh you who 
 have been married twice, but it is no joke to me." 
 One wonders how she knew so soon the history of 
 Elizabeth Gunning, the "mother of dukes," and 
 how much was told her of the kindness of the 
 King for Lady Sarah. 
 
 Poor Lady Sarah ! When all this became clear, 
 she wrote the most human of letters to her friend 
 and confidante, Lady Sue, that ever came from a 
 disappointed lover. "To begin to astonish you 
 as much as I^was, I must tell you the [King] is 
 going to be married to a Princess of Mecklem- 
 bourg and that I am sure of it. Does not your 
 Chollar rise at hearing this. ... I shall take care 
 to shew that I am not mortified to anybody, but if 
 it is true that one can vex anybody with a re- 
 served cold . . . manner, he shall have it I pro- 
 mise him. . . . Luckily for me, I did not love him, 
 only liked. ... I did not cry I assure you. . . . 
 The thing I am most angry at is looking so like 
 a fool, having gone so often for nothing." And 
 so on, and so forth ; and Lady Sue is not to men- 
 tion it to any one except her father and mother, 
 Lord and Lady Ilchester, for it will be said that 
 they invent " storries," and it might do the family 
 a lot of harm and her no good. 
 
 Poor Lady Sarah ! and her troubles were not 
 157
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 over yet, either. The King selected her as one of 
 the bridesmaids, "all beautiful figures," says Mr. 
 Walpole, " but with neither features nor air, Lady 
 Sarah was by far the chief angel." The marriage 
 did not take place till ten at night. There was 
 the Princess in a stomacher of surpassing richness, 
 " her tiara of diamonds very pretty," and her violet 
 mantle and ermine of prodigious heaviness. 
 There were the pretty bridesmaids, with Lady 
 Sarah at their head, all in a row; and the King 
 had more eyes for Lady Sarah than for his bride 
 all through the ceremony. When it was over, up 
 comes my Lord Westmorland, the old Jacobite, 
 who has hardly any eyes at all, mistakes Lady 
 Sarah for the Queen, drops on one knee, and takes 
 her hand to kiss it ; Lady Sarah has to draw back 
 with a blush, and cry, " J am not the Queen, sir," 
 and George Selwyn utters that bitter jest: "You 
 know, he always loved Pretenders." Did ever 
 romance end in such embarrassment for a poor 
 young girl of sixteen? 
 
 Now it was all over, Mr. Fox again took up his 
 pen to assure " all whom it might concern " that 
 there was not much in it, after all. When the 
 Princess was really decided upon, " Lady Sal " 
 met the King, it seems, and " answered short with 
 dignity, and a cross look," exactly as she had 
 promised in her letter to Lady Sue. :< To many 
 a girl," continues Mr. Fox sententiously, " H.M.'s 
 behaviour had been very vexatious, but the sick 
 ness of her Squirrell immediately took up all her 
 
 158
 
 A ROYAL ROMANCE 
 
 attention, and when in spite of her nursing it 
 dy'd, I believe it gave her more concern than 
 H.M. ever did. That grief, however, soon gave 
 way to the care of a little Hedge Hog that she 
 sav'd from destruction in the field, and is now her 
 favourite." O sly Mr. Fox, and happy Lady 
 Sarah thus to be able to bury her griefs ! 
 
 It was in the year following the King's marriage 
 that Lady Sarah threw in her lot with one of her 
 admirers, and became the wife of Sir Thomas 
 Charles Bunbury, a young man of fashion of great 
 personal attractions, a light of the Macaronies of 
 Almack's and White's, and noted among sports- 
 men as the owner of Diomed, the winner of the 
 first Derby. But the marriage was not a success. 
 As was not seldom the case in the society of her 
 day, a girlhood closed too abruptly by an early 
 and ill-advised marriage was followed by a period 
 of unhappiness and unrest. There was much 
 scandal recorded in the memoirs of the time, in 
 connection with Lady Sarah Bunbury's name, 
 which we need not repeat here. Much of it is 
 utterly unconvincing. But her short unhappy mar- 
 ried life with Sir Charles came to an end with 
 proceedings at Doctors' Commons and the House 
 of Lords in 1776. 
 
 Lady Sarah really began her life only when, 
 five years later, she became the second wife of the 
 Honourable George Napier, the sixth son of the 
 fourth lord. We have taken her early romance as 
 the subject of this paper, and this second married 
 
 159
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 life does not concern us here, and yet it is the part 
 of her career one would like best to dwell upon. 
 It is fully recorded in Lady Sarah's own letters, 
 published within recent years by the Countess of 
 Ilchester, where may be read a pleasant story of 
 great domestic happiness, and of the maternal care 
 which went to the rearing of her sons the heroic 
 Napiers sons distinguished, amongst a crowd of 
 distinguished contemporaries, in everything which 
 makes the fame of soldiers and gentlemen. Fate 
 was kinder to Lady Sarah in her age than in her 
 youth. She lived to hear, from the great general 
 of the Peninsular war himself, of the glory her sons 
 were earning under his eye; and long before her 
 death, in 1826, she must have been assured of the 
 brilliant fulfilment of the promise of their youth, 
 which is now a precious page of the history of their 
 country. In the stirring times of the opening years 
 of the nineteenth century, the romance and the un- 
 happiness of Lady Sarah's youth were forgotten 
 by most of her contemporaries. The years as 
 they rolled on had brought cares and anxieties for 
 George the Third in a measure greater than for 
 most of his subjects. In his blundering, obstinate, 
 but honest way, the King bore a personal part in 
 all the great events of his reign, so long as his 
 reason remained with him. But he remembered his 
 first love through them all. Years after his mar- 
 riage with the Queen he turned to her in the royal 
 box at the play when Mrs. Pope, who was reckoned 
 like Lady Sarah, came on, and was heard to re- 
 
 160
 
 A ROYAL ROMANCE 
 
 mark, " She is very like Lady Sarah still." Years 
 after this again, when George the Third was really 
 dead to every sense that makes up human life, 
 deaf, blind, bereft of reason, wandering through 
 his palace and dreaming his old life over again, 
 holding courts, reviewing troops, opening Parlia- 
 ments, some who could remember the royal ro- 
 mance were reminded that it still lingered in the 
 memory of its heroine. Dean Andrews of Canter- 
 bury preached a charity sermon at St. James's 
 Church, in Piccadilly, for the benefit of an institu- 
 tion for the blind founded, as he told his hearers, 
 by his Majesty at the time his own sight began to 
 fail. The Dean was eloquent, and George Tier- 
 ney, the Whig leader, who was present, records 
 that his eloquence was heightened by the remem- 
 brance of the pitiful condition of the King. Tier- 
 ney noticed an elderly lady in the seat immediately 
 in front of him, who wept much at the Dean's 
 mention of the distresses of his Majesty. When 
 the sermon was ended, servants came for this lady 
 and led her out of the church, when it appeared 
 that Lady Sarah Napier was herself totally blind. 
 It might be interesting, but would certainly be 
 unprofitable, to speculate upon what might have 
 happened in English history had Lady Sarah 
 Lennox become Queen of England. We all know 
 the tremendous part played in the national for- 
 tunes by the personality of George the Third a 
 personality moulded, as time went on, by the 
 troubles which beset him in his own family. Those 
 L 161
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 troubles, as many believe, had much of their origin 
 in the negative virtues of Queen Charlotte, whose 
 absolute devotion to the King left little place in 
 her heart for his sons. We know, too, that Lady 
 Sarah's sons were distinguished above their fellows 
 in manliness and ability and bravery. But who 
 shall say what might have been her influence on 
 the King and the royal princes who might have 
 been born to her, had her warm and loving nature 
 shone upon the court, instead of the prim and 
 cold personality of the Princess from Mecklen- 
 burg- Strelitz? 
 
 162
 
 IV 
 A MAID OF HONOUR 
 
 L a 
 
 163
 
 IV 
 A MAID OF HONOUR 
 
 AMONG the first sitters of young Mr. Joshua 
 Reynolds when he set up his easel in his native 
 county of Devon, and began to paint the features 
 of many of the nobility and gentry of the west 
 country, was a young lady whose charms the young 
 painter recorded with some enthusiasm in his 
 note-book, and of whose person he made a very 
 pleasing portrait. This young lady was twenty- 
 three at the time, though she did not look it, and 
 her personal attractions, including the " shape " 
 which struck Mr. Reynolds, were the chief part of 
 her fortune. It is true that Miss Elizabeth Chud- 
 leigh had recently been appointed maid of honour 
 to the Princess of Wales, but the five hundred a 
 year attached to that office was as nothing com- 
 pared with the wealth which was latent in her 
 beauty, and of which she made afterwards the 
 fullest use. That beauty, indeed, was such a pos- 
 session that, combined with other qualities, it 
 enabled this young woman to enter upon a career 
 of which there is hardly a parallel on record. For 
 self-assertion carried to a point of triumph which 
 brought great means from the first, and, later, 
 
 165
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 enormous wealth; for dare-devil courage, which 
 laughed at legal obstacle and stuck at nothing; 
 for unblushing impudence in the concealment for 
 years of faults which would have ruined any other 
 woman, and enabled her to maintain her position 
 in the first social circles of her day, it would be 
 hard, indeed, to match the career of Mr. Joshua 
 Reynolds's young sitter, Miss Elizabeth Chudleigh. 
 
 It is worthy of note, as will abundantly appear, 
 that it was only during those few years of her early 
 life in Devon that Miss Chudleigh's contempo- 
 raries could be sure of addressing her by her 
 proper name. Her life was really a perpetual 
 masquerade for well over thirty years. She mas- 
 queraded as a maid of honour long after she was 
 a married woman and the mother of a son; she 
 masqueraded as a duchess while she was the wife 
 of an earl ; and she masqueraded as a widow while 
 her real husband was still alive. Endless assaults 
 were made upon the various false positions she occu- 
 pied throughout her life, but she repelled them all, 
 and died at last in the possession of a great estate, 
 and with reputable people among her executors. 
 
 Elizabeth came of a good west country stock. 
 There were Chudleighs stirring in most of the 
 great events in those parts from the time of Eliza- 
 beth onward. A sailor Chudleigh was out with 
 Drake against the Spaniards, and played a valiant 
 part in delivering the country from the peril of 
 the Armada; two other Chudleighs, Sir George 
 and his son James, did notable service on the 
 
 1 66
 
 A MAID OF HONOUR 
 
 Parliamentary side during the Civil War, and, 
 later, for the King, after certain unjust animad- 
 versions had been made on their defeat at Stratton 
 Hill. A generation later produced a diplomatist 
 Chudleigh, who has a sort of monument in ten 
 volumes of state papers, which are occasionally 
 consulted by hungry historians. Sir George's 
 younger brother Thomas was also in the service, 
 and, surviving the troublous times of the Revolu- 
 tion, was solaced during his declining years with 
 the Lieutenant-Governorship of Chelsea Hospital, 
 and there his daughter, the little Elizabeth, was 
 born in the year 1720. The colonel died six years 
 later, leaving his wife and child ill provided for. 
 There was a small farm in the parish of Harford, 
 Devon, which produced about a hundred a year, 
 a little property which Elizabeth preserved 
 throughout her life, and this scanty income seems 
 to have been the chief resource of her widowed 
 mother after the colonel's death. Upon that event 
 Mrs. Chudleigh removed her little establishment 
 to the west, and there Elizabeth grew up, and was 
 painted by young Reynolds in 1743 as one of the 
 belles of that pleasant country. 
 
 Had Elizabeth's future distinction been even 
 guessed at in those early days, we should doubt- 
 less have had some particulars of her childhood; 
 as it is, next to nothing is known of those years. 
 As she grew up she showed promise of great 
 beauty, which was later abundantly fulfilled, and 
 it is known that she sustained an attack of small- 
 
 167
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 pox at the age of fifteen without suffering much 
 loss of that beauty. Her first love affair took 
 place at near the same time, and, from what we 
 know of her subsequent history, she probably 
 suffered as little from that. Perhaps the most 
 important event of her early life was her accidental 
 meeting with William Pulteney, afterwards Earl 
 of Bath. That gentleman, the most strenuous of 
 the opposition which year after year vainly 
 assailed the position of Sir Robert Walpole, Was 
 among the most conspicuous of the political hench- 
 men of Frederick Prince of Wales. Mr. Pulteney 
 seems to have met Elizabeth at a shooting party in 
 the west, and to have been attracted in a fatherly 
 sort of way by the beautiful child. He good- 
 naturedly sent her books, tried to improve her 
 education, and entered into a correspondence with 
 her on literary matters, from which, however, she 
 seems to have profited little. According to one 
 of her biographers, Elizabeth's natural vivacity 
 stood in the way, and Pulteney's books and his 
 disquisitions upon them were little to her taste. 
 In her own words, she wished all she had to deal 
 with to be "short, clear, and surprising," and 
 prolix stories or voluminous authors bored her to 
 death, as they have bored young girls of her age 
 before and since. Pulteney probably obliged her 
 most when he persuaded her mother to return to 
 town, and to give the girl an entrance into the 
 great world, in which her youth and beauty might 
 have full scope. So the mother returned to Lon- 
 
 168
 
 A MAID OF HONOUR 
 
 don, took a house in a fashionable part of the 
 town, and added to her resources by letting rooms. 
 In 1743 Pulteney completed his benevolence by 
 procuring Elizabeth the appointment as maid of 
 honour to the Princess of Wales. 
 
 We see elsewhere that by this time Frederick 
 Prince of Wales's relations with his royal father, 
 though by no means ideal, had become less un- 
 comfortable than in former years; they were at 
 last on speaking terms, and, consequently, a post 
 at his court had greater opportunities than for- 
 merly, and no longer carried with it the certainty 
 of ostracism at St. James's. Elizabeth, therefore, 
 as maid of honour to the Princess, was fairly 
 launched in the great world, and entered upon its 
 possibilities with the greatest spirit. We know 
 little of the details of life at the Prince's court 
 apart from the manifestly hostile criticism of Lord 
 Hervey and Horace Walpole, but one fact stands 
 out from the gossip of the time which is entirely 
 creditable to the Princess; even her husband's 
 enemies combined to praise that royal lady, and it 
 is safe to say that no credible word of scandal is 
 recorded against Augusta Princess of Wales, even 
 bearing in mind the inspired attacks against her 
 which arose from the ascendency of Lord Bute in 
 the counsels of her son. It seems probable, there- 
 fore, that Elizabeth's frolics, of which there is an 
 amazing record, were carried on unknown to her 
 royal mistress at Carlton House. It is related 
 with some humour that a prosperous coachman of 
 
 169
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 the Prince, dying in possession of a little fortune, 
 left it all to his son on condition that he did not 
 marry a maid of honour. What the date of that 
 libellous testament may have been we know not, 
 but we have a list of the other ladies who shared 
 with Elizabeth the duties of attending the Prin- 
 cess, and it is but fair to say that the coachman's 
 will was the only evidence against them. Of Miss 
 Albina Selwyn, Lady Elizabeth Hamilton, Miss 
 Lucy Boscawen and Miss Lawson, nothing but 
 good and decorum is recorded; of Elizabeth her- 
 self there is another story altogether. 
 
 From the time of her first appearance at Fred- 
 erick's court there is a tradition of the fascinating 
 maid of honour's beauty, and of its potent effect 
 upon the high-born youth of that day. Half 
 the eligible young men about town were named 
 as her suitors, the greater number, perhaps, with- 
 out any authority ; the constant ogling which went 
 on wherever Elizabeth appeared lent a certain 
 plausibility to the rumours in the case of many, 
 but there were others about whose vows there was 
 no doubt at all. Of these last, which are said to 
 have included Lord Howe, the Duke of Hamilton, 
 a nobleman of the highest consideration but of 
 tender age, was certainly the chief. His grace, in 
 fact, was only just nineteen, and was about to start 
 on the grand tour, when Miss Chudleigh encoun- 
 tered him and brought her batteries into action. 
 There are no details of the wooing on record 
 except that the duke, sensible of his youth and 
 inexperience, very thoughtfully determined to 
 
 170
 
 A MAID OF HONOUR 
 
 finish his travels before definitely casting in his 
 lot with Elizabeth. There seems, however, to 
 have been a provisional engagement between the 
 pair; the duke started for the continent with a 
 promise to write to his mistress upon every avail- 
 able opportunity, and the omens were all reckoned 
 favourable for a brilliant match for the maid 
 of honour upon his grace's return. But, as 
 a fact, their love-making was not destined to 
 prosper. 
 
 Soon after his departure, Elizabeth, whose 
 duties at court seem to have sat lightly upon her, 
 and to have permitted of frequent vacations, went 
 off to spend a great part of the summer with an 
 aunt named Hanmer, who took her to stay with 
 friends of her own, Mr. and Mrs. John Merrill, at 
 their country house at Lainston in Hampshire. 
 During this visit a party was made up for the 
 Winchester race-meeting, and at the races Eliza- 
 beth attracted the notice of a young naval lieu- 
 tenant of twenty years of age, Mr. Augustus John 
 Hervey, who had obtained a day's leave of 
 absence from his ship, the Cornwall, Vice-Admiral 
 Davers's flagship, then lying at Portsmouth, but 
 under orders for the West Indies. Mr. Hervey 
 was a member of a very notable, if eccentric, family, 
 that of the Earls of Bristol, and we have already 
 made the acquaintance of his father, Lord Hervey, 
 the husband of the beauteous Molly Lepel, and 
 the confidential chamberlain of Queen Caroline, 
 whose second son Augustus was. Hervey became 
 later a very capable sailor, one of that crowd of 
 S 171
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 able captains, indeed, who carried out the great 
 schemes of the elder Pitt, and helped to raise 
 England to a position among the nations of 
 Europe which she had never occupied before. 
 But in spite of his ability he seems to have shared 
 the family eccentricity to the full. It was Lady 
 Mary Wortley Montagu who described mankind 
 as composed of " men, women and Herveys," and 
 people living in the great world during the middle 
 years of the eighteenth century were probably in- 
 clined to agree with her distinction. It was no 
 proof of his eccentricity, however, that Augustus 
 should have fallen violently in love with Eliza- 
 beth, which from all accounts was the lot of most 
 of the youth of that day who met her. There was, 
 perhaps, less common sense in his determination 
 to marry her offhand on the very eve of his sailing 
 for a lengthy cruise in the West Indies. 
 
 In this enterprise Hervey seems to have been 
 very fortunate in the assistance he received from 
 aunt Hanmer and her friends the Merrills. When, 
 later, Elizabeth's doings became so famous that 
 all the details of her career were discussed with the 
 greatest relish by the public, it was roundly stated 
 that Mrs. Hanmer intercepted letters from the 
 absent Duke of Hamilton and suppressed them in 
 order to forward the suit of the new lover. That 
 is a statement very difficult of proof, but there is 
 no doubt that she favoured young Hervey's pre- 
 tensions, and there is reason to believe that she 
 was a connection of his family by marriage. In 
 
 172
 
 A MAID OF HONOUR 
 
 any case he found a most complaisant household 
 at Lainston. Mr, Hervey's first step was to obtain 
 a few days' leave of absence from his ship, during 
 which he danced attendance upon Elizabeth at the 
 Merrills'. There followed a necessarily short 
 Wooing, during which one supposes Hervey to have 
 received ample encouragement from the lady, for 
 the courtship, the marriage to which she consented, 
 and the honeymoon, were all completed well 
 within a week. It was determined to keep the 
 match secret, for the excellent reason that Hervey 
 had no means beyond his lieutenant's pay, and, in 
 the circumstances, it would clearly have been 
 flying in the face of Providence for Elizabeth to 
 forfeit her five hundred a year from the Princess 
 by acknowledging her change of condition. 
 
 The Merrills' place at Lainston was an ideal 
 one for an enterprise of this romantic character. 
 ,That gentleman's house was the only one in its 
 parish, and possessed a church all to itself in his 
 garden; Mr. Amis, the parson, was Mr. M.'s 
 obedient, humble servant, and, as the lovers 
 decided to be united at dead of night, it was quite 
 easy to keep his small establishment of five 
 servants in ignorance of the ceremony. Mrs. 
 Hanmer and Elizabeth had brought a maid with 
 them, a young woman of the name of Cradock, 
 and to her was entrusted the task of guarding the 
 rites from interruption by the other servants, and 
 of the prevention of any suspicions of what was 
 going forward, either before or after the cere- 
 
 173
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 mony ; a task she seems to have performed with 
 great ability. There were all the elements of 
 romance about what followed. Mr. Hervey, as it 
 afterwards appeared, was coming and going during 
 the few days previous to the wedding, and occa- 
 sionally obliged the ladies by taking them to 
 Portsmouth and showing them his ship. One day 
 in August 1744, a small party sat down to dinner 
 at Mr. Merrill's, which included the parson, Mr. 
 Amis, a Mr. Mountenay, and Mrs. Hanmer, and, 
 of course, Elizabeth and Augustus. The weather 
 was balmy, and the greengages ripe, as the maid 
 Cradock, who had an inconvenient memory, recol- 
 lected many years later. Shortly before eleven 
 o'clock, Elizabeth and Augustus went out into the 
 garden, as if to take the air, and were followed a 
 few minutes later by the rest of the party, the 
 excellent Cradock, meanwhile, being told off to 
 keep the coast clear of the other servants, who 
 were, however, mostly in bed. Augustus and 
 Elizabeth walked straight to the church, and there 
 awaited the others, who soon arrived, headed by the 
 Reverend Mr. Amis. Mr. Mountenay cleverly 
 provided the little light necessary to the ceremony 
 by sticking a candle in his hat. With these poor 
 substitutes for the pomp and ceremony usual on 
 such joyful occasions, the fateful service was con- 
 cluded as quickly as possible, and the wedding 
 party returned with all composure to Mr. Merrill's 
 hospitality. There was a honeymoon of two days, 
 after which Hervey returned to his ship and sailed 
 
 174
 
 Elizabeth Chudleigh, Countess of Bristol
 
 A MAID OF HONOUR 
 
 to the Indies, and Elizabeth resumed her place as 
 the most ornamental of the maids of honour at the 
 court of the Princess of Wales. 
 
 In some later troubles which we shall have to 
 examine at length, Elizabeth was accused by 
 Horace Walpole and others of having destroyed 
 the record of this marriage in the Lainston regis- 
 ter; but probably without any justification. It is, 
 indeed, exceedingly doubtful whether such a 
 document existed ; Lainston was a derelict sort of 
 parish, where the ministrations of the clergyman 
 in any of the offices of his calling were seldom 
 called upon, and births, marriages and deaths in a 
 parish of one house were obviously events of rare 
 occurrence. To serve her own purpose, the maid 
 of honour would certainly have suppressed that 
 or any other inconvenient evidence without scruple, 
 but for the reasons stated there was, probably, no 
 necessity for so heroic a course. Elizabeth later 
 professed to believe that the ceremony, as per- 
 formed at Lainston, was invalid from its incom- 
 pleteness ; it was such " a scrambling, shabby busi- 
 ness," she said, that she was unwilling to take a 
 positive oath that she was married at all. 
 
 In the light of what followed, it is difficult to 
 understand Elizabeth's motives for entering into 
 this mad alliance. One of her biographers, who 
 appears to have been generally well informed, 
 states explicitly that she was persuaded into the 
 marriage by Mrs. Hanmer in face of her dislike of 
 young Hervey^ and only consented out of pique
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 at the supposed faithlessness of the Duke of 
 Hamilton, whose letters her aunt had suppressed. 
 But from Elizabeth's subsequent record one would 
 judge her a difficult subject for persuasion of any 
 sort. With her lately-acquired post at the Prince's 
 court, which brought her relative affluence, and 
 with the possibility at least of a great match with 
 the Duke of Hamilton to fall back upon, there was 
 surely no reason for her to rush into any marriage 
 at all at the age of twenty-four. We are therefore 
 inclined to look upon this folly as the result of 
 the mutual passion of two young and thoughtless 
 people, and to discredit the author's confident 
 assertion that the lady resolved to have nothing 
 further to do with her husband so soon as he 
 should have sailed with Admiral Davers. It was 
 a mysterious business altogether ; but the one thing 
 certain it is that Elizabeth returned to her mother's 
 house in Conduit Street with no one the wiser for 
 what had taken place at Lainston Church except 
 the actual witnesses of the ceremony. 
 
 Hervey was away for over two years, and re- 
 turned in October of 1 746 to find his bride one of 
 the most prominent figures in society. She re- 
 ceived every attention from Frederick and the 
 Princess, and was looked upon as the chief orna- 
 ment of their court, where one reads of many little 
 pleasantries in which she was a chief figure. At 
 a supper party in the year of the '45, for example, 
 Frederick had a model of Carlisle Castle made in 
 sugar, and he and the maids of honour, with the 
 
 176
 
 A MAID OF HONOUR 
 
 Chudleigh at their head, bombarded the rebels in 
 effigy, as it were, with sugar-plums; Frederick, in 
 a sarcastic mood, even named her as Minister of 
 War in a memorial he drew up and purposed to 
 present to the King, in place of Mr. Pitt, who had 
 incurred the Prince's displeasure in taking that 
 post under the court government. She was prob- 
 ably anxious to forget the folly at Lainston in 
 the midst of this new success, and was certainly 
 not at all enthusiastic upon her sailor's return. 
 There are various accounts of her relations with 
 her husband upon his reappearance. One bio- 
 grapher asserts that Hervey only saw her once at 
 his rooms with a black servant in the house, "an 
 assignation with a vengeance," as the lady herself 
 was accustomed to speak of the meeting in after 
 years. Other accounts make them living together 
 for a time at Elizabeth's house in Conduit Street. 
 This last theory seems inconsistent with her con- 
 tinued retention of the post of maid of honour to 
 the Princess, but there were wonderful ways of 
 saving appearances in those days. This is plain 
 when one reads the indisputed fact that in the 
 following year Elizabeth bore Hervey a son. She 
 managed, however, to conceal the occurrence by a 
 retreat to Chelsea for the air, and there, attended 
 by Mr. Caesar Hawkins, a noted surgeon of those 
 days, she brought forth the boy, who was christened 
 at Chelsea Old Church on the 2nd of November 
 1847, as "Henry Augustus, son of the Honble. 
 
 Augustus Hervey." The child was put out to 
 M I77
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 nurse, and died a few months later, and Elizabeth 
 returned to the Princess's court with a renewed 
 youth and bloom, and prepared to deny the fact 
 of the baby altogether. Rumours got about, but 
 Elizabeth was quite equal to the occasion. 
 " Would you believe," she said to Lord Chester- 
 field at the Prince's court, "that they say I have 
 had twins ? " "I never believe more than half 
 I hear," was his lordship's reply. Upon one point 
 all the accounts are agreed, that Hervey and his 
 wife parted finally after the birth of this child. 
 
 There were, no doubt, ample reasons for this 
 in the demeanour of the young lady, who resumed 
 her place at the court as the idol and toast of the 
 town, and the object of the vows of a fresh bevy 
 of young men. Never was such a fascinating 
 creature from all accounts. Here was the young 
 Duke of Hamilton back again, as faithful as when 
 he parted at Wapping Old Stairs some three years 
 before. His grace had an interview with Eliza- 
 beth, who perhaps explained that his letters had 
 never reached her, perhaps indicated the culprit 
 in Mrs. Hanmer, but who certainly gave the Duke 
 no hope of fulfilment of their engagement. The 
 Duke, as is well known, went off and married Miss 
 Elizabeth Gunning in such haste at Keith's Chapel 
 that he forgot to provide a ring, and made shift 
 with one cut from a curtain for the ceremony. 
 The Duke of Ancaster was another highly-placed 
 individual who shared the same fate with the 
 Duke of Hamilton, "together with several other 
 
 178
 
 A MAID OF HONOUR 
 
 noblemen," as we are informed. It must have 
 been doomshard for Elizabeth to be forced to 
 refuse so many brilliant offers by reason of that 
 unfortunate indiscretion at Lainston; her mother, 
 who was not in the secret, thought her clearly out 
 of her mind. Hervey now began to grow restive, 
 and displayed a quite natural objection to Eliza- 
 beth as the inspiration of all this love-making, 
 while he himself was debarred from the pleasure 
 of her society. Whenever his duties allowed of 
 his being ashore, he hung like an unquiet spirit 
 about all the movements of his wife, appeared at 
 every rout, ball, or race-meeting at which she 
 assisted, and followed her about the country as a 
 sort of attendant Nemesis to avenge that early folly 
 at Lainston. Here was obviously a difficult posi- 
 tion for Elizabeth, but there is no reason to believe 
 that she worried herself unduly about it. Hervey 
 is said to have threatened to make public the mar- 
 riage ; one set of her critics declares that she there- 
 upon posted off to Lainston, and, while entertain- 
 ing Mr. Amis with " a funny story," contrived to 
 remove the entry of her marriage from the 
 register; but, for reasons already set out, it is 
 improbable that she went to that trouble. Hervey 
 then threatened to inform the Princess of all the 
 circumstances of the marriage. Elizabeth is said 
 to have parried this stroke by going to her Royal 
 Highness herself and making a clean breast of it 
 to that royal lady, who forgave her, pitied her, 
 kept her secret, and allowed her to remain in her 
 M 2 179
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 post. The thing seems incredible, but not more 
 so than some other incidents in Elizabeth's amaz- 
 ing career. It is quite certain that she survived 
 the threatened danger, and continued to enjoy to 
 the full the advantages of her position. 
 
 King George the Second, whose well-known 
 gallantry suffered no decline with his advancing 
 years, was quite early attracted by the fascinating 
 Chudleigh, and the particular attention and coun- 
 tenance of his Majesty had, doubtless, much to do 
 with the eminence in the world of fashion which 
 she continued to enjoy until the end of his reign. 
 Among the favourite diversions of King George's 
 later years was the masquerade, or masked ball, 
 an entertainment of Venetian origin recently intro- 
 duced to London by Mr. Heidegger, in which his 
 Majesty took great delight, and was accustomed 
 to share in disguise with the more frolicsome of his 
 subjects. It amused the old King to be asked by 
 some lady to put down her teacup, to watch with- 
 out being observed the antics of the dancers, or 
 admire the eccentricity of the costumes in which 
 they arrayed themselves. It is amazing to read of 
 some of the dresses which passed muster with the 
 highest society at those revels. One gentleman 
 went in silk fleshings as Adam; another in a 
 shroud, with a property coffin on his back; a 
 third walked about in a small thatched cottage 
 which bore the fire insurance company's badge, a 
 fact which inspired some humorist who was 
 present to apply a light to the thatch. Among 
 
 1 80
 
 A MAID OF HONOUR 
 
 the many eccentric figures at these assemblies, 
 Elizabeth was ordinarily the most extravagant. 
 King George commanded a special masquerade in 
 her honour in 1749, showed her much attention, 
 and bought her a watch at one of the booths with 
 money from his own royal purse. George was no 
 doubt pleased at the young lady's costume, though 
 all the ladies of the town professed themselves 
 mightily shocked. She went as " Iphigenia pre- 
 pared for the Sacrifice," and we really hesitate to 
 print the description of this dress, which Mrs. Mon- 
 tagu, the chief of all the bluestockings, put upon 
 record; it may, however, be seen graphically 
 represented in the engravings of the day by any 
 one curious enough to search among them. 
 
 The King, in fact, became almost a declared 
 lover of the fascinating creature. " He has had 
 a hankering for her these two years," wrote Wai- 
 pole in 1750, in announcing a great triumph of 
 Elizabeth's in procuring for her mother the post of 
 housekeeper at Windsor Castle. The place was 
 worth 800 a year, and was the object of the 
 aspirations of half the needy gentlewomen in the 
 country. It was known that a vacancy was immi- 
 nent, and Walpole speaks of the appointment as 
 having been " largely solicited." There was a 
 Dra wing-Room at St. James's, when the King strode 
 up to the fair Elizabeth and told her " he was glad 
 to have an opportunity of obeying her commands " 
 by appointing her mother housekeeper of Windsor 
 Castle. His Majesty added that he hoped she 
 
 181
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 would not think a kiss too great a reward for his 
 gift, "and, against all precedent," says Horace, 
 with something like awe, "he kissed her in the 
 circle." Thus was poor widow Chudleigh pro- 
 vided for, and few would grudge her this solace 
 for her years; one imagines she had but a poor 
 time of it at Conduit Street with that masterful 
 daughter. The widow lived six years to enjoy her 
 800 a year, and her death is marked for us by 
 another entry in Walpole's inimitable record. 
 Elizabeth was seen to shed some, let us hope, 
 natural tears at the Drawing-Room, and Horace 
 quotes one of those facetious efforts of George 
 Selwyn, which do not always sustain the pro- 
 digious reputation for wit which that gentleman 
 enjoyed during his lifetime. 
 
 "What filial piety, what mournful grace 
 For a lost parent sits on Chudleigh's face. 
 Fair virgin, weep no more, your anguish smother, 
 You in this town can never want a mother." 
 
 It is difficult to ascertain how much or how little 
 of Elizabeth's true history was known at this time. 
 It all came out later, of course, but at present one 
 supposes the secret to have been in very few 
 hands. Walpole and the other chroniclers of the 
 scandal of the day were at present silent upon 
 details of her life about which they grew very 
 eloquent later, and were mainly occupied with 
 prattle about her appearance, her menage, and 
 the splendour of her entertainments. Thus, in 
 the last year of King George's reign, the maid of 
 
 182
 
 A MAID OF HONOUR 
 
 honour, being then in her fortieth year, gave a ball 
 of surpassing elegance, at which Horace himself 
 was good enough to assist, though he made no 
 scruple of sneering at much that he saw. Eliza- 
 beth's splendid hospitality was loyally exercised 
 in celebration of the young Prince George's birth- 
 day. " Poor thing," says Walpole, " I am afraid 
 she has thrown away above a quarter's salary." 
 The Duke of York was there, the foreign ambas- 
 sadors, and many other persons of distinction ; the 
 courtyard of the house was illuminated, and the 
 boundary walls picked out with battlements in 
 coloured lamps. The whole affair, indeed, by 
 Horace's admission, was exceedingly well ar- 
 ranged, with no crowd, and no one a moment 
 incommoded, though the night was sultry. Miss 
 Chudleigh opened the ball with his Royal High- 
 ness, who was dressed in " a blue watered tabby," 
 and it seems clear from the distinction she re- 
 ceived in such attention that whatever Elizabeth's 
 enormities, they had not affected her prestige in 
 the world of fashion in 1760. 
 
 It was just at this time that Elizabeth's feelings 
 towards her husband underwent a surprising 
 change, which led her into one of the most auda- 
 cious acts of her audacious career. It is not sug- 
 gested for a moment that she redeveloped any 
 tenderness for the captain, indeed she was accus- 
 tomed to say throughout her life that " her misery 
 began with the arrival of Captain Hervey in Eng- 
 land, and the greatest joy she ever experienced 
 
 183
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 was the intelligence of his departure." But his 
 brother, the Earl of Bristol, fell seriously ill, and 
 as he was without children, everything pointed 
 to the probability of Augustus succeeding to the 
 earldom as his heir. It was a false alarm, as 
 events turned out, for Lord Bristol's death did not 
 take place until fifteen years later, when Hervey at 
 last succeeded him. But the mere probability was 
 enough to stir Elizabeth's ambition; Hervey, as 
 an impecunious captain, however able, was a dif- 
 ferent person altogether from a potential Earl of 
 Bristol, with a fine mansion and a fine landed 
 estate in Suffolk. It might, indeed, be worth while 
 to acknowledge such a husband as that, and even 
 to share his fortunes, so Elizabeth decided to have 
 the evidence of their marriage at her disposal if 
 events should render its production advisable. 
 
 In February, accordingly, having obtained 
 leave of absence from the Princess for a little 
 trip into the country, she took the coach for Win- 
 chester, and having arrived in that city, engaged 
 apartments at the Blue Boar. She only reached 
 Winchester in the evening, and by six o'clock the 
 next morning had already dispatched an urgent 
 message to Parson Amis requesting him to come 
 to see her at the inn. Mr. Amis, however, being 
 in but indifferent health, sent his wife. Elizabeth 
 at once opened the subject of her visit by asking 
 that lady whether she thought the clergyman was 
 prepared to give a certificate of her marriage with 
 Hervey, which had taken place in his church at 
 
 184
 
 A MAID OF HONOUR 
 
 Lainston sixteen years before. The good lady 
 thought that he would, but said he was very ill. 
 Elizabeth hoped he would make an effort to see 
 her, and Mrs. Amis then departed to persuade 
 her husband to get up and return with her for an 
 interview with Elizabeth at the Blue Boar. 
 
 Meanwhile, Elizabeth sent a messenger post 
 haste for her old friend Mr. Merrill, who very 
 obligingly waited upon her. There was a con- 
 sultation between these worthies, which was 
 joined by Mr. and Mrs. Amis later. It was then 
 arranged that an attorney should be sent for, and 
 Mrs. Amis knowing a man of law by the name of 
 Spearing in Winchester, it was decided to consult 
 him; Elizabeth, however, with some natural diffi- 
 dence, thought it better that she should not appear, 
 so concealed herself in a closet which opened out 
 of her room. Mr. Spearing having arrived, Mr. 
 Merrill explained the business they all had in 
 view, produced some stamped paper, and re- 
 quested Mr. Amis to make the register upon it. 
 "Oh," said Mr. Spearing, "that will never do; 
 the entry must be made in a book, and Mrs. 
 Hervey must be at the making of it." Elizabeth 
 was then produced from the cupboard, and a 
 further consultation took place. The useful 
 Spearing knew where to find a suitable book, 
 and went out for it. To get over the diffi- 
 culty of the blank pages with the single entry 
 of the marriage of Augustus and Elizabeth, 
 the party bethought them of the death of old 
 
 185
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 Mrs. Merrill, which had occurred only a few 
 weeks before the marriage. The book began, 
 therefore, with that record, and went on to the 
 nuptials of Elizabeth. These entries having been 
 made by Mr. Amis, he handed the book to that 
 lady, who expressed much gratitude, saying that 
 "it might be ,100,000 in her way." She seems, 
 however, to have remembered that the keeping 
 of the register is properly in the hands of the in- 
 cumbent of the church, and handed it, before she 
 left, to Mrs. Amis, with the request that if her 
 husband unhappily died, she would pass it on to 
 Mr. Merrill. That event taking place shortly after- 
 wards, Mrs. Amis carried out her instructions, much 
 to Elizabeth's prejudice, as later events proved. 
 
 Such were Elizabeth's proceedings at Win- 
 chester in February of 1759, proceedings which 
 would appear incredible were they not attested by 
 one of the actors in sworn evidence before the 
 House of Lords some fifteen years later. It was 
 Mrs. Amis herself who described the manufacture 
 of the false register, and the eventual destination 
 of that incriminating document. After Mr. Amis's 
 death, his widow married again, and became a Mrs. 
 Phillips, the wife of the steward of the Duke of 
 Kingston, in which capacity she had some further 
 acquaintance with Elizabeth. It appeared that 
 Merrill died in 1767, and the book remained 
 among the papers he left behind him. One of 
 his daughters, looking through these, came upon 
 it and handed it over to the new incumbent, Mr. 
 
 1 86
 
 A MAID OF HONOUR 
 
 Kinchin. The Earl of Bristol having recovered, 
 Elizabeth's immediate use for the register no 
 longer existed, and she seems to have thought it 
 in safe hands with the Merrills, in any case. But 
 it was found years later, as we shall see, at a very 
 inconvenient moment for this enterprising lady. 
 Meanwhile she returned to London in high good 
 humour, and resumed her place as an ornament of 
 the town. 
 
 Walpole, in describing one of the Chudleigh's 
 entertainments in 1760, ends with the remark;;: 
 :< The Lord of the festival was there, and seemed 
 neither ashamed nor vain at the expense of his 
 pleasures. At supper she offered him Tokay ; on 
 all the sideboards, and even on the chairs, were 
 pyramids and troughs of strawberries and cherries, 
 you would have thought she was kept by Ver- 
 tumnus." 
 
 That is a very typical passage of the good 
 Walpole, who wrote thus to Lord Stafford of the 
 lady whose bread he had eaten ; it is a reference in 
 Horace's lightest manner to Elizabeth's relations 
 with the Duke of Kingston. This was Evelyn 
 Pierrepont^ second and last duke, a nobleman of 
 great estate whose titles and dignities fill pages 
 of the peerages of that day. The Duke was an 
 amiable but shy man, totally unassuming, and very 
 loth to insist on the privileges of his high station ; 
 he despised ostentation, indeed, to the point of 
 folding back the lapel of his coat in order to con- 
 ceal the star of his order. He was good-natured 
 
 187
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 to weakness, and may be regarded as the fascin- 
 ating Elizabeth's final victim. By the year 1760, 
 although the maid of honour still kept her place 
 about the Princess of Wales, it was known to the 
 whole town that she was the acknowledged mis- 
 tress of the Duke. The house in Conduit Street 
 was relinquished for other establishments, and 
 being in no lack of funds in her new circumstances, 
 Elizabeth embarked in a large scheme of building 
 in Knightsbridge, where she erected a great man- 
 sion, later known as Kingston House. There is 
 no record at all of any rupture with the Princess, 
 and as Elizabeth was received with great cordiality 
 by young King George shortly after his accession, 
 it may be assumed that even that austere moralist 
 saw nothing in her relations with the Duke of 
 Kingston at which to look askance. 
 
 Elizabeth was now near the summit of her for- 
 tunes, and felt her ambition would be attained if 
 she could only induce her lover to convert their 
 present irregular connection into one of lawful 
 marriage. The Duke, however, was somewhat 
 coy, from all accounts. He had doubtless heard 
 rumours of her early connection with Hervey, and 
 was quite probably dissatisfied with her explana- 
 tion of it. At any rate there were endless fetes 
 and entertainments, at which he presided with the 
 lady, frequent visits to Thoresby, the ducal place 
 in the midlands; trout fishing expeditions on the 
 Colne, where the maid of honour was accustomed 
 to guard against the risks of wading by pouring 
 
 1 88
 
 A MAID OF HONOUR 
 
 generous quantities of rum into her boots; every 
 sort of diversion, indeed, except that of the wed- 
 ding in form. Elizabeth's life was a perpetual 
 honeymoon, but with the marriage itself at present 
 in prospect only, though all London continued to 
 flock to the banquets, balls, and assemblies which 
 she continued to provide for the town on the most 
 lordly scale, feasts furnished forth with rare wines 
 and costly service of plate and fine linen, and 
 often with the adjuncts of fireworks and illumina- 
 tions, then less often seen than in times nearer 
 our own. 
 
 Walpole, with his usual amiability, is the his- 
 torian of what may have been a crumpled rose- 
 leaf for Elizabeth in all this glory. He declared 
 in 1764 that the Duke had found a rival whom 
 he had taken to Thoresby, and that Elizabeth, in 
 pique, decided to try a spell of absence in order 
 to bring back the Duke to her affections. " Miss 
 Chudleigh," he says, " on Friday last at the Prin- 
 cess's birthday, beat her side till she could not 
 help having a real pain in it, that people might 
 inquire what was the matter, on which she notified 
 a pleurisy, and that she is going to the baths of 
 Carlsbad in Bohemia." Such is Horace's ex- 
 planation of the trip abroad which the Chudleigh 
 undoubtedly took in that year, which may or may 
 not be the true one, Horace must have his sneer 
 at all costs; and on the other side may be re- 
 corded the fact that the Duke accompanied the 
 lady to Harwich, and there took an affectionate 
 
 189
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 farewell. Elizabeth made Berlin her chief rest- 
 ing-place in the early part of her trip, and was 
 certainly received with all the consideration she 
 could have expected in that city. She went to the 
 Prussian court and was presented to Frederic the 
 Great, who seems to have paid her some little 
 attention, even wrote her little almost illegible 
 scraps of letters, which she was accustomed to 
 show with great pride in after years. Had she 
 known of other letters written by his Majesty at 
 the same time, which may now be read in his pub- 
 lished correspondence, she might have been less 
 pleased. " I have not much to say," he wrote to 
 a lady friend, "except of the appearance of an 
 English lady, Miss Chudleigh, who emptied two 
 bottles of wine and staggered as she danced, and 
 nearly fell on the floor." It may have been Fred- 
 eric's influence which introduced the Chudleigh 
 to the court of Saxony, or perhaps her position at 
 the Princes's court was sufficient to secure her that 
 honour. In any case she went to Dresden and 
 found a friend in the Electress, who in later times 
 wrote to her in very affectionate terms. ' You 
 have long experienced my love, my revenue, my 
 protection, my everything you may command. 
 Come, then, my dear life, to an asylum of peace. 
 Quit a country where, if you are bequeathed a 
 cloak, some pretender may start up and ruin you 
 by law to prove it your property. Let me have 
 you at Dresden." Elizabeth on the whole made 
 a very good thing out of her native country, which 
 
 190
 
 A MAID OF HONOUR 
 
 the Electress thought so unworthy of her, and 
 was chiefly employed during half-a-century in de- 
 priving other people of the cloaks and other 
 chattels to which they were entitled. But her suc- 
 cess in thus imposing upon the Electress as to her 
 true character, may perhaps be regarded as proof 
 of ability of a certain kind. 
 
 It was said by one of many of the scribes who 
 occupied themselves with the Chudleigh's affairs 
 when they became famous a few years later, that 
 at the time she first contracted her irregular con- 
 nection with the Duke of Kingston she succeeded 
 in cajoling his grace into an undertaking to marry 
 her so soon as she could prove herself a free 
 woman, or to pay her 100,000 down. That, 
 again, is a statement incapable of proof, and the 
 sum named seems a high figure, whatever the 
 charms of the lady, and however complete the 
 infatuation of the easy-going Duke. It was stated 
 on the same authority that after she had succeeded 
 in manipulating the Lainston register at the Blue 
 Boar, she had triumphantly declared that she 
 could now choose between being Countess of 
 Bristol and Duchess of Kingston. However this 
 may have been, it is clear that upon her return, 
 full of renewed vigour, from the continent, she 
 deliberately set herself to clear up the rather nebu- 
 lous state of her matrimonial affairs, so as to 
 enable her to ask the church to bestow its blessing 
 on her union with the Duke. She and her mature 
 lover had met again with all affection upon her 
 
 191
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 arrival in England, and she was doubtless at last 
 convinced of his grace's willingness to consent to 
 the ceremony. 
 
 The chief difficulty now was with Hervey. Up 
 to a recent period that gentleman had shown him- 
 self extremely unaccommodating ; he had declared, 
 in fact, in his nautical way, " that he would see her 
 at the devil before her vanity should be gratified 
 by being a duchess." But time and chance had 
 brought an alteration in the captain's point of 
 view. Hervey's active service had ceased with 
 the peace of 1763, and though he had still a dis- 
 tinguished parliamentary and official career before 
 him, he was henceforth on shore with ample time 
 in which to deplore the forlorn state of his matri- 
 monial affairs. In such unpropitious circum- 
 stances he happened to meet a young lady of 
 the name of Moyse " Miss Rhubarb," as Horry 
 Walpole pleasantly names her, in allusion to the 
 profession of her father, a physician of Bath with 
 whom he fell prodigiously in love. Here, then, 
 was an obviously interesting position. Hervey 
 wished to be free of Elizabeth in order to marry 
 the little Moyse; Elizabeth was presented with an 
 elegant opportunity of at last gaining her Duke. 
 They only differed as to the means of arriving at 
 the same desirable consummation the dissolution 
 of their marriage at Lainston in 1743. 
 
 Hervey appears to have opened the negotia- 
 tions which followed. He happened to meet Mr. 
 Caesar Hawkins, whom he saw attending Eliza- 
 
 192
 
 A MAID OF HONOUR 
 
 beth at Chelsea nearly twenty years earlier, and 
 asked him to call upon him, not, as the captain 
 explained, on account of his health, but in respect 
 of " an old friend of his." Mr. Hawkins made an 
 appointment, and duly waited upon Hervey, 
 whom he found expecting him and surrounded 
 with a prodigious heap of law papers. After some 
 polite preliminaries, Hervey stated his business. 
 He said that for some time past he had been very 
 unhappy on account of his matrimonial connection 
 with Miss Chudleigh, which he was now deter- 
 mined to bring to an end. He had employed 
 agents, he continued, pointing to the papers, to 
 collect ample evidence for a divorce, and he was 
 now determined to prosecute a suit with the utmost 
 firmness and resolution. At the same time, how- 
 ever, he wished Mr. Hawkins to assure Miss 
 Chudleigh that he retained such a regard for her 
 that he was most anxious that no extraneous 
 matter injurious to her reputation should be 
 allowed to creep into the evidence. He suggested, 
 therefore, that her lawyers should go through the 
 proofs of the evidence he had collected with his 
 own, and that they should together agree as to 
 what should be left to come before the House of 
 Lords. 
 
 Mr. Hawkins duly delivered this obliging mes- 
 sage to Elizabeth, who in effect desired Mr. H. 
 to return to the captain and thank him for 
 nothing. She was much obliged, she said, for the 
 polite part of his message, but as to divorce pro- 
 N 193
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 ceedings, she begged him to understand that she 
 had never acknowledged him for her legal hus- 
 band at all, and that she herself was about to 
 institute proceedings by which she would call 
 upon him to prove the marriage he alleged, or else 
 hold his slanderous tongue on the matter. But she 
 quite appreciated his kjndly offer not to drag into 
 his proposed suit any " indecent or scandalous re- 
 flection," and in such circumstances was sure she 
 could rely upon him not to bring into his defence 
 to her suit any extraneous and irrelevant matters 
 like alleged cohabitation or children, "which 
 would only give occasion for tittle-tattle and 
 scandal." She concluded by reminding Hervey 
 that if his freedom was all he wished, that could 
 best be attained by allowing her suit to go forward. 
 Mr. Hawkins delivered his message, and reported 
 that Hervey received it " as one affected or struck 
 by it. He added, as if to himself, that he did not 
 conceive that he should have equal freedom by 
 that method," and concluded by saying he had 
 no wish to rake up any scandal, and would confine 
 his defence to her suit to establishing the marriage 
 at Lainston. 
 
 Elizabeth at this juncture must grievously have 
 regretted that expedition of hers to the Blue Boar 
 and the concoction of the register, to which at least 
 three people living were witnesses. On the other 
 hand, it was true that these were all parties to the 
 fraud, and might be trusted not to chatter for their 
 own sakes, and as the accusing document was in 
 
 194
 
 A MAID OF HONOUR 
 
 the safe keeping of one of them, the accommodat- 
 ing Mr. Merrill, she no doubt felt reasonably safe. 
 At any rate she displayed no sort of hesitation in 
 instituting her action. This took the form of a 
 suit in an ecclesiastical court, for what was known 
 as Jactitation of Marriage, by which, if he failed 
 to prove the ceremony, Hervey was forbidden, 
 under penalty, from asserting that it had ever 
 taken place. Elizabeth's evidence may still be 
 read in the reports of the Consistory Court, and 
 amazing evidence it is. She swore that no mar- 
 riage had ever been solemnized or contracted be- 
 tween her and the captain; that he had at least 
 once been asked to abstain from " false and mali- 
 cious boasting that he was her husband," but that 
 he continued with " like malice and rashness con- 
 stantly to report the same, to the great danger of 
 his soul's health, and to the no small prejudice 
 to the said Honourable Elizabeth Chudleigh." 
 In support of her plea, Elizabeth swore that she 
 was a maid of honour to the Princess of Wales 
 up to the time of the death of the Prince in 1751, 
 when she was readmitted to the same appoint- 
 ment, where she still continued; that she had 
 taken leases, transacted business, borrowed 1000 
 of Mr. Drummond the banker, presented a living, 
 and done various other acts all in her own name 
 as spinster, and without let or hindrance from her 
 pretended husband. 
 
 There was, indeed, some mighty hard swearing 
 in this case, nor was it confined to Elizabeth. 
 N 2 195
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 There was never so complaisant a defendant as 
 Hervey, and he carried out his promise of acting 
 the gentleman not only in the letter, but in the 
 spirit. He was very tender as to the lady's age, 
 to begin with, and his own, for that matter. He 
 was a bachelor of seventeen or eighteen, he said, 
 when, in 1744, he paid his "addresses of love and 
 courtship " to the young lady at Lainston, who 
 might have been some eighteen years at that time. 
 He made a modest statement of the circumstances 
 of the secret marriage, but brought no scrap of 
 documentary evidence to prove it, and produced 
 no single witness. There was no word in his de- 
 fence, be it noted, of the child born, christened 
 and buried at Chelsea. " Some differences having 
 arisen between them on account of the conduct of 
 the said Elizabeth, they continued to live separate 
 from each other, and he had never visited her," 
 was the captain's explanation of their present 
 relations. 
 
 Hervey's defence, indeed, was no defence at 
 all, and it is not surprising to read that the Vicar- 
 General, Dr. Bettesworth, pronounced a decree 
 in Elizabeth's favour, declared that she was a 
 spinster free from all encumbrances, admonished 
 Captain Hervey to desist from "boasting and 
 asserting that he was her husband," and con- 
 demned that gentleman in costs "which we tax 
 and moderate at the sum of ;ioo sterling." 
 
 Hervey's poor appearance in this business 
 caused a good deal of head-shaking among the 
 
 196
 
 A MAID OF HONOUR 
 
 virtuous ones in 1769; some talked roundly of 
 collusion, others, like Horace Walpole, declared 
 sans -phrase that Elizabeth had bought her hus- 
 band off, and named the sum, 14,000. Hervey's 
 biographer admits that he lost reputation in the 
 business, and if Walpole's facts are true, there is 
 little wonder. We learn, too, that he did not get 
 his little Miss Moyse after all. Her father, the 
 physician, disapproved altogether of the match, 
 and offered her 5000 not to marry Hervey. 
 " Miss Rhubarb is as much above worldly decorum 
 as the rest," says Horace, "and persists. It is 
 a cruel case for Hervey's family, who can never 
 acquiesce in the legitimacy of the children, if any 
 come of this bigamy." Horry's solicitude for the 
 hard case of the Hervey family was not justified, 
 for the physician brought his daughter to reason, 
 and the bigamy was therefore confined to one 
 only of the original actors in the Lainston cere- 
 mony. 
 
 The maid of honour at last surrendered all claim 
 to that title by marrying her Duke. " Next week," 
 says Horace, "the provident virgin who has ap- 
 peared in Doctors' Commons and sworn by the 
 virgins Mary and Diana that she was never mar- 
 ried to Mr. Hervey, and is but fifty, is to be 
 married to the Duke of Kingston, who has kept 
 her almost half that time." So it proved. On the 
 8th of March 1769, the marriage took place by 
 special licence in her house in St. Margaret's 
 parish, Westminster. There is no adequate ac- 
 
 197
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 count of the ceremony, but the Reverend Samuel 
 Harper of the British Museum officiated, and 
 Elizabeth omitted no precautions this time, for 
 there were eight witnesses who signed the register, 
 besides his reverence. The Duke and she were 
 described as bachelor and spinster. So we may 
 suppose Elizabeth at last attained her ambition, 
 and that her amazing career was accepted as quite 
 regular and respectable is clear from the fact that 
 the Duchess was presented at court on her mar- 
 riage, and that King George the Third, Queen 
 Charlotte, and the chief officers of the household 
 all very obligingly wore her wedding favours. To 
 make this ceremony at St. James's the more com- 
 plete, Captain Hervey himself chose the occa- 
 sion to pay his respects to their Majesties, and 
 remarked aloud to some who stood near him, that 
 "he had just come to take one last look at his 
 widow." 
 
 We now see Elizabeth at the height of her 
 prosperity, accepted by her sovereign as the wife 
 of a duke, an indulgent and weak duke, moreover, 
 whose estates were not entailed, and who was pos- 
 sessed of a huge personal property. She was 
 destined to four years of this glory, with which we 
 have little to do. She proved, as might be ex- 
 pected, an arbitrary and exacting wife, gave her- 
 self the greatest of airs (she called her attendants 
 " maids of honour "), discharged old servants who 
 had served her husband and his family for years, 
 and made the quiet, easy-going man's life a misery 
 
 198
 
 A MAID OF HONOUR 
 
 to him. They continued to give great entertain- 
 ments in London, she had a real fondness for 
 music, and her band at Thoresby, which used to 
 perform after breakfast while she wrote her letters, 
 was one of the finest private bands in the country. 
 The chief amusement of this curious pair when in 
 town was attending Sir J. Fielding's court at Bow 
 Street whenever a felon was to be examined, and 
 where their coach was well known. But she very 
 thoughtfully got the Duke to execute a will in her 
 favour, so soon as the bustle of the wedding was 
 over, and she took other provident measures by 
 secreting all the jewels she could lay her hands 
 upon. Then, the honeymoon, as we know, having 
 been spent years before the marriage, Elizabeth, 
 perhaps, felt she would be interrupting no raptures 
 if she took a second trip abroad. She had a 
 special carriage built for this purpose by Mr. 
 Wright of Long Acre, with most extraordinary 
 and ingenious conveniences for long journeys, 
 and started off with a Miss Bate and a Miss Pen- 
 rose as companions, a manservant, and a hussar 
 recommended by Lord Granby as an escort, and 
 an apothecary and a Jew musician to complete 
 her retinue. She was bound for the Electoral 
 Court at Dresden, but after travelling about half- 
 way to her destination, she received a message 
 from the Electress to say that she was suffering 
 from the small-pox, so Elizabeth incontinently 
 returned to her Duke after only a few weeks 
 
 abroad. 
 
 199
 
 It was not long before a premonitory stroke of 
 paralysis beckoned to that nobleman, and the 
 final summons came in September 1773, when 
 Evelyn Pierrepont, Baron Kingston, Marquess of 
 Dorchester and Duke of Kingston, the last of a 
 line which had been in high place in England for 
 seven hundred years, joined his fathers and left 
 his estate and his wealth in the hands of the adven- 
 turess whose history we know. The landed estate 
 was left to her only as life tenant, but his great 
 personal property was Elizabeth's absolutely so 
 long as she remained a widow. The Duke men- 
 tioned in his will that he imposed that restriction 
 because he felt that his wife was liable to be 
 deceived by " any adventurer who flattered her.'* 
 If we may believe Walpole, Elizabeth's show of 
 grief was as extravagant as any of her other many 
 eccentricities. " She moved by slow stages to 
 London; and made as many halts as Queen 
 Eleanor's corpse. At one of the inns where her 
 grief baited, she was in too great an agony to 
 descend to the door, and was slung into a bow 
 window, as Mark Antony was into Cleopatra's 
 monument." Thus the playful Walpole, and it 
 is difficult to deny that Elizabeth was fair game. 
 Mason, Walpole's friend, improved the raillery by 
 declaring that " she ate black puddings and drank 
 black cherry brandy only, not being able to eat 
 anything of a gayer colour." 
 
 When the first transports of this grief were over, 
 Elizabeth again determined to seek relief from 
 
 200
 
 her woe in foreign parts, and a few months after 
 the Duke's death, she set out for Rome, where 
 at that time reigned Clement XIV, the " Protest- 
 ant Pope," who was noted for the marked atten- 
 tion he paid to the English. His holiness was 
 very ready to extend his civilities to the great 
 lady who now appeared in Rome, accorded her 
 grace many privileges, and even lodged her in 
 the palace of one of the cardinals. The Duchess 
 was quite prepared to play the grande dame, and, 
 in fact, delighted the Romans in that capacity. 
 She was one of the first persons in England to 
 own a private yacht, which she now ordered out 
 from home to Civita Vecchia. What better plan 
 of exhibiting her state to the Romans than to get 
 it up the Tiber and display it to the admiring 
 citizens? Accordingly, "at considerable trouble 
 and some expense," as we read, the little vessel 
 was hauled up the river and moored within the 
 precincts of the Eternal City, amid the applause 
 of the crowd. Elizabeth, indeed, seems to have 
 enjoyed her life at Rome hugely, and proceeded 
 to make arrangements for a long stay. She de- 
 posited large sums of money with her banker, 
 Mr. Jenkins, and, as Walpole hints, was enabled 
 by the favour of the Pope to make the Vatican 
 itself a depository for her jewels and valuables. 
 Meanwhile, however, she received news from 
 England of a most ominous menace to her pros- 
 perity. With Elizabeth's early history now more 
 or less common property, it was improbable that 
 
 201
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 the relations of the Duke of Kingston would 
 allow her to remain in possession of his large 
 fortune without some effort to contest her title ; as 
 it proved, they were much aided in their efforts 
 by the stupidity of her man of business in London, 
 and by Elizabeth's own meanness. The Duke's 
 family was now represented by two nephews, 
 Evelyn and Charles Medows, the sons of his 
 sister Lady Frances, who had married a gentle- 
 man of that name of good family but small for- 
 tune, then holding the office of Deputy-Ranger of 
 Richmond Park. Lady Frances Medows had not 
 been on good terms with the Duke, and her elder 
 son, Evelyn, was also out of favour with his uncle, 
 who had passed him over in his will and made his 
 brother Charles heir-at-law, and his successor in 
 the landed estates after Elizabeth's life tenancy 
 should have come to an end. Mr. Evelyn Medows 
 was consequently very sore, and willing and 
 anxious to seize any opportunity of setting aside 
 his grace's will. 
 
 Captain Hervey also had shown no disposition 
 to lie down under the decree of the Consistory 
 Court, and had become restless; he had, indeed, 
 petitioned the King in Council for a new trial 
 before the Duke's death, and the matter was still 
 in suspense. Elizabeth's affairs, in one form or 
 another, were constantly before the public, a state 
 of things to which she herself much contributed 
 by her eccentricity and ostentation, and it was thus 
 inevitable that all who were in any way interested 
 
 202
 
 A MAID OF HONOUR 
 
 in her fortunes should be much on the alert. 
 Among these was our old acquaintance Ann 
 Cradock, who had played so useful a part in 
 keeping the ring, so to speak, at that first fatal 
 encounter between Augustus and Elizabeth at 
 Lainston. Poor Ann was getting on in years and 
 had fallen upon indigence, and it now occurred 
 to her that the knowledge she possessed of that 
 early folly might be of value to one side or the 
 other, and, incidentally, to herself. She presented 
 herself accordingly to her grace's attorney, one 
 Mr. Field, of Lincoln's Inn, informed him that 
 she had a real claim on the Duchess's sympathy, 
 urged her distress, and stated her case. It is 
 uncertain how much Mr. Field knew of Eliza- 
 beth's early career, and consequently how far he 
 was qualified to estimate the value of her story, 
 but he was deaf to Ann's entreaties. Ann accord- 
 ingly changed her demeanour, brought the inter- 
 view to an end, and parted from Mr. Field with 
 the menace that her information would be " doubly 
 useful to the relatives of the late Duke." Upon 
 this Field seems to have consulted Elizabeth, who 
 committed an amazing indiscretion. She admitted 
 Cradock's claim by offering her an annuity, but 
 fixed the amount at 20 a year, and even hedged 
 that pitiful allowance with the condition that Ann 
 should be banished to a village she named in the 
 Peak district of Derbyshire. 
 
 Ann rejected the offer with derision, and went 
 off forthwith to Mr. Evelyn Medows, who was 
 
 203
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 very glad to see her. He would have been satis- 
 fied, indeed, with less than Ann Cradock had to 
 tell him. He and his legal advisers were put into 
 possession of all the particulars of that romantic 
 evening at Lainston, which we have already re- 
 cited from her evidence, and with the even more 
 interesting information regarding the manufacture 
 of the false register at the Blue Boar now placed 
 at their disposal by Mrs. Phillips, they had no 
 hesitation in beginning proceedings against Eliza- 
 beth. An indictment for bigamy was framed, and 
 in the absence of the Duchess Mr. Field was 
 served with notice, and the matter in its prelimi- 
 nary stage coming before the Grand Jury of 
 Middlesex, a true bill was found against her 
 grace for the offence. This was the heavy news 
 that reached Elizabeth in the midst of her revelry 
 at Rome, together with the urgent advice that she 
 should hasten to England at once and appear to 
 the indictment in order to avoid outlawry. 
 
 It was upon that prospect of outlawry, rendered 
 possible by Elizabeth's absence at the other end 
 of Europe, that Mr. Pierrepont's chief hope was 
 fixed; with such a decree against her Elizabeth's 
 property in England would have been at the 
 mercy of the courts, and Mr. Pierrepont and his 
 brother would have scarcely failed to come to 
 their^own. It is said that Pierrepont, with this 
 object in view, had already tampered with Eliza- 
 beth's banker in Rome, Mr. Jenkins, and that 
 gentleman's unaccommodating ways at this crisis 
 
 204
 
 A MAID OF HONOUR 
 
 lend colour to the charge. Upon receipt of the 
 news from London Elizabeth at once called on 
 Mr. Jenkins for funds with which to hasten across 
 Europe in order to appear to her indictment. She 
 was informed that he was not at home ; she called 
 again and again, with the same result. But both 
 Pierrepont and Jenkins were yet to realize that 
 they were dealing with a very masculine spirit. 
 Tired of her constant disappointment in en- 
 deavouring to get sight of Mr. Jenkins, Elizabeth 
 at length put a brace of pistols into her pocket 
 and sat down upon his doorstep. He must have 
 other business, she declared, which would bring 
 him to his shop, and she was determined to be 
 there when he arrived, whether she waited a month 
 or a year. This hardy declaration decided Mr. 
 Jenkins to appear and give the Duchess an inter- 
 view. She demanded money, he hesitated and 
 prevaricated, whereupon she drew her pistol and 
 held it at his head until he consented to provide 
 her with the funds she required for her journey. 
 She then immediately quitted Rome for England. 
 One is little surprised to read that Elizabeth 
 broke down on that dismal journey; she was in a 
 fever which necessitated a halt before she reached 
 the Alps, and had but a tardy convalescence, de- 
 layed by an abscess in her side, which rendered a 
 post-carriage impossible, when the indomitable 
 woman pushed on in a litter. One is almost forced 
 to admire the resolute spirit of this adventuress, in 
 spite of all her faults. She arrived at last at 
 
 205
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 Calais, torn with anxiety, and filled with a fear 
 that her liberty might be endangered if she landed 
 in England. It seems difficult to deny Elizabeth 
 the possession of some undefined quality which 
 gained her many friends. She had never lacked 
 the countenance and support of persons of high 
 station since Pulteney discovered her in Devon- 
 shire, and at the present crisis in her affairs there 
 were numerous men of position in England will- 
 ing to help and advise her in her extremity. She 
 had been in Calais but a few days when the great 
 Murray, Lord Mansfield, who had been Lord 
 Chief Justice, found time to run over and see her, 
 and was able to calm her fears as to the danger of 
 imprisonment without bail, and assure her that she 
 might continue her journey without danger. She 
 crossed to Dover accordingly, hurried to London, 
 where she went to Kingston House, and was able 
 to consult with other influential friends who were 
 waiting to give her all assistance. Her council 
 apparently included the Dukes of Newcastle, 
 Ancaster and Portland, Lord Mountstuart, Lord 
 Barrington, as well as a Lincolnshire squire, Mr. 
 Glover, a gentleman of very independent, not to 
 say arbitrary, character. The Duke of Newcastle, 
 Lord Mountstuart and Mr. Glover, indeed, were 
 good enough to go bail for her, and Elizabeth had 
 thus ample breathing space in which to prepare 
 her defence for the trial, which, as it proved, did 
 not take place until April of the following year, 
 1776. In the meantime Captain Hervey had 
 
 206
 
 Capt. Augustus John Hervey 
 
 3rd Earl of Bristol
 
 A MAID OF HONOUR 
 
 succeeded to the earldom of Bristol by the death 
 of his brother on the 24th of May preceding, an 
 event for which Elizabeth in due time had great 
 cause to be thankful. 
 
 It was at this juncture that Samuel Foote, the 
 ill-conditioned patentee of the Haymarket 
 Theatre, made a disgraceful attempt to levy 
 blackmail upon Elizabeth. He chose this moment 
 of her trouble to write a piece with the title of a 
 Trip to Calais, one of the characters of which, 
 Lady Kitty Crocodile, presented many 'of Eliza- 
 beth's peculiarities in very unflattering terms. He 
 caused it to be known about town that he was 
 shortly to produce this piece at his theatre, and 
 found means of conveying the same information 
 to the Duchess. Elizabeth took alarm, as he 
 intended she should, and sent for him, as he also 
 intended. Foote read the piece to her, and though 
 protesting that the character of Lady Kitty was 
 not meant for her, yet expressed his willingness 
 to suppress the piece upon the receipt of 2000, 
 with a further sum for his pains in converting it 
 into another play. Elizabeth, though furious at 
 the attempted extortion, offered first ,1400, then 
 1600, and was actually writing a draft on Drum- 
 monds for the latter sum when Foote refused it, 
 thinking she would come to his terms. But he 
 was mistaken in his adversary, as he once was 
 in a famous difference with Samuel Johnson, who 
 threatened the rascal with a big stick in similar 
 circumstances. Elizabeth's friends advised her 
 
 207
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 to begin a suit of criminal libel against Foote 
 should he dare to perform the piece, and a box 
 was taken at the theatre during the season for her 
 shorthand writer, Mr. Blanchard, to obtain the 
 necessary evidence. But her friends again came 
 to her assistance, and the Duke of Newcastle 
 exerted his interest with Lord Hertford, the Lord 
 Chamberlain, to forbid the acting of the piece. 
 Foote was thus beaten, and the honours would 
 have rested with Elizabeth had she not, in an 
 unlucky moment, written to the actor a very 
 abusive letter. This gave the able scoundrel his 
 opportunity, and he published a reply in which 
 she was held up to the derision of the town. But 
 Foote lost whatever credit he possessed by this 
 attempt to extort money from a woman in diffi- 
 culty, and one of his best friends declared that he 
 deserved to be run through the body. 
 
 With this distraction removed, Elizabeth was 
 now able to give her full attention to the prepara- 
 tion of her defence. Upon the declaration of a 
 true bill by the Grand Jury of Middlesex she at 
 once claimed to be tried by her peers in the House 
 of Lords, a claim which was irresistible in view 
 of the fact that she had recently become a countess 
 at the least, by virtue of her captain's succession 
 to the earldom of Bristol. The certainty, thus 
 established, that Elizabeth would be tried by a 
 body of several hundred amateur judges like the 
 peers provided an excellent opportunity for her 
 well-wishers among their lordships. There was a 
 
 208
 
 A MAID OF HONOUR 
 
 long preliminary discussion in the House as to 
 the advisability of holding a trial at all. Many 
 of their lordships declared themselves opposed 
 to it upon the score of expense; Lord Mansfield 
 seized these doubts as an opportunity for urging 
 the abandonment of the proceedings altogether. 
 " Cui bono" said his lordship, "what utility is to 
 be obtained even supposing a conviction to be 
 the result? The lady makes your lordships a 
 curtsey, and you return the lady a bow." Chan- 
 cellor Bathurst, however, was vehement for a trial, 
 and the solemn proceedings accordingly went for- 
 ward. But Mansfield's evident advocacy of 
 Elizabeth and her cause damped the spirits of 
 the prosecution very considerably. Lord Mans- 
 field possessed great influence, and Medows and 
 his advisers were fearful that it might be sufficient 
 to secure an acquittal. They therefore caused 
 a hint to be conveyed privately to Elizabeth that 
 the payment of the sum of 10,000 would ensure 
 an abandonment of the prosecution, and the hint 
 was at length developed into a positive offer. 
 Some of Elizabeth's friends implored her to 
 accept it, but in vain. Her lawyers assured her 
 she had nothing to fear, and she professed to 
 reject the overture as an insult. She expressed 
 the greatest anxiety that the trial should take place 
 at the earliest possible moment, talked of urgent 
 business which awaited her with the Pope, and 
 wished the tiresome business settled chiefly that 
 she might be free to rush back to his holiness. 
 209
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 But she was secretly taking all precautions to 
 ensure her acquittal if that were possible; she 
 approached the inconvenient Cradock with a view 
 to getting her out of the way, but that faithless 
 creature not only refused the overtures with scorn, 
 but carried news of them to the enemy. 
 
 The great day of the opening of the trial, the 
 i $th of April 1776, at length arrived, and with it 
 the function for which Europe had been waiting 
 impatiently for months. There has seldom been 
 an event which so stimulated the curiosity of the 
 town as Elizabeth's trial for bigamy in West- 
 minster Hall by her peers. The privilege of 
 entrance to the proceedings had been sought with 
 greater fervour than that of witnessing a corona- 
 tion, the foreign ministers in London had been 
 besieged by the nobility of their respective 
 countries for tickets of admission, and as the day 
 drew near the highroads of the continent had 
 been enlivened by a procession of post-chaises 
 hurrying the successful ones over for the cere- 
 mony. As for the native gentry, it was probably 
 never so well represented. Queen Charlotte her- 
 self, with the princes of the blood, ladies eminent 
 in rank and in beauty, men renowned in arms and 
 art and letters, all flocked to the great Hall to 
 watch the fortunes of the daughter of the Deputy- 
 Governor of Chelsea Hospital in the hour of her 
 tribulation. Hannah More wrote a capital letter 
 describing the scene ; shows us the air of expecta- 
 tion which pervaded the great assembly, the 
 
 210
 
 A MAID OF HONOUR 
 
 ladies chattering behind their fans, the Duchess 
 of Devonshire, in the very height of her beauty, 
 regaling herself with luncheon from her work- 
 bag; all the pomp and ceremony invoked by the 
 greatest tribunal in the kingdom in order to 
 adjudicate upon the guilt or innocence of an 
 adventuress whose moral betters were often dis- 
 posed of without record at the Old Bailey. 
 
 Elizabeth made a better appearance than had 
 been expected. Her charms were long gone, of 
 course, and Hannah rather unfeelingly describes 
 the full-blown widow as " a bale of bombazine 
 with nothing white about her but her face, a black 
 hood over her powdered hair, deep black gauze 
 ruffles and black gloves, followed by four attend- 
 ants in virgin white, to heighten the effect of her 
 sables." But she surprised her friends and dis- 
 appointed her enemies by the dignity of her 
 demeanour. Walpole, who professed to expect 
 a display of ostentatious folly, was driven from 
 his sneering by the propriety of her behaviour; 
 " she went through her part with universal admira- 
 tion," he admitted ; " all her conduct was decent, 
 and even seemed natural." 
 
 There is no need here to follow the details of 
 those musty proceedings, imposing as they were 
 to the actual spectators, with the array of Lord 
 High Stewards, judges and heralds to attend the 
 solemn procession of peers spiritual and tem- 
 poral, who marched in pairs according to their 
 rank, beginning with the youngest barons. The 
 
 02 211
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 court having been thus constituted, Elizabeth was 
 brought to the bar by Black Rod, where she made 
 three reverences and fell upon her knees. The 
 indictment having been read, she was asked by 
 the Clerk to the Crown, " How say you, are you 
 guilty of the felony ? " "I am not guilty," she 
 replied. "How will you be tried?" "By God 
 and my peers." " God send you a good deliver- 
 ance." 
 
 The issue was soon narrowed down to a single 
 point : whether the decree of the ecclesiastical 
 court which had declared her to be a spinster 
 before her marriage with the Duke was to be 
 held as absolute, or whether the means by which 
 it had been obtained could be re-examined, and 
 the whole question of the Lainston marriage re- 
 opened. Upon that point a whole array of big- 
 wigs argued on opposite sides through three 
 weary days. The argument went wholly against 
 Elizabeth, and from the moment that became clear 
 her cause was lost. Tiger Thurlow, who was in 
 charge of the prosecution, had no sort of difficulty 
 in proving his case. Lord Bristol was not called, 
 but Thurlow triumphantly produced Ann Cra- 
 dock and Mrs. Phillips, the remarried widow of 
 Parson Amis, who both proved the marriage and 
 the subsequent manipulation of the register, and 
 Mr. Caesar Hawkins, who swore to the birth of 
 the child and to the later negotiations between 
 Hervey and his wife. With this evidence before 
 them, the peers, whatever their previous opinions 
 
 212
 
 A MAID OF HONOUR 
 
 might have been, had no option but to return the 
 inevitable verdict of guilty. Their lordships all 
 solemnly laid their hands on their hearts with the 
 words, " Guilty, upon my honour," the Duke of 
 Newcastle adding, "erroneously but not inten- 
 tionally," and Elizabeth was called to the bar. 
 She came well prepared. Upon the verdict being 
 read over to her she handed a paper to the court, 
 in which she prayed for the benefit of clergy as 
 Countess of Bristol. 
 
 Their lordships were again unable to resist her 
 plea, and Elizabeth was granted immunity from 
 the consequences of her crime as the wife of a 
 man whose claim as husband she had repudiated 
 for over thirty years. The Lord High Steward, 
 in bringing the proceedings to a close, informed 
 her of their lordship's decision in as impressive 
 language as he could muster in all the circum- 
 stances. " Madam," said he, " the lords have con- 
 sidered of the prayer you have made to have the 
 benefits of the statutes, and the lords allow it you. 
 But, madam, let me add that though very little 
 punishment, or none, can be inflicted, the feelings 
 of your own conscience will supply the defect. 
 And let me give you this information likewise, 
 that you can never have the like benefit a second 
 time, but another offence of the same kind will 
 be capital. You are discharged upon paying your 
 fees." Elizabeth at fifty-seven was moderately 
 safe from the temptation of a second bigamous 
 marriage, one imagines, so the proceedings came 
 
 213
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 to an end little to her prejudice. They closed, 
 indeed, with the exact result which Lord Mans- 
 field had predicted when "she made their lord- 
 ships a curtsey and they returned her a bow." 
 The Lord High Steward broke his white wand, 
 there was the usual scramble for the fragments, 
 and Elizabeth left Westminster Hall a free 
 woman. 
 
 During the later stages of the trial, when a 
 verdict against her became a certainty, Elizabeth 
 in private had exhibited much of her native trucu- 
 lence ; she had talked bravely of barred doors and 
 blunderbusses, and hinted her intention of stand- 
 ing a siege at Kingston House before submitting 
 to the indignity of an arrest. But though the 
 danger to her person was now removed by the 
 gentle treatment of the peers, she was under no 
 delusions as to her position with respect to Mr. 
 Evelyn Medows, whose prosecution for bigamy 
 had been only a means to an end, that of shaking 
 the Duke of Kingston's wealth from her grasp, 
 and, with her usual foresight, she was now pre- 
 pared to escape his hungry clutches. Immediately 
 after the trial Medows moved for a writ of ne 
 exeat regno, which, if successful, would have kept 
 the elusive lady in the kingdom, and allowed him 
 to deal with her at his leisure. But, resourceful 
 as ever, Elizabeth was alert to meet the new 
 danger. In order to allay any suspicion, she 
 ostentatiously sent her chariot about the town, and 
 issued invitations for a grand banquet at Kingston 
 
 214
 
 House, and the same evening slipped quietly out 
 of London, and drove post-haste to Dover. The 
 faithful Captain Harding, who had taken her 
 yacht over to Rome the year before, was awaiting 
 her at the southern port, and hiring the first 
 open boat she could find, Elizabeth was wafted 
 across the Straits to Calais and safety. 
 
 We have been chiefly interested in the career of 
 this audacious woman in England, where great 
 social success and prodigious material prosperity 
 as the rewards of continuous ill-doing seem to 
 throw a somewhat sinister light upon the morality 
 and the justice of the times. Her subsequent 
 career, therefore, merits a less prominent place in 
 the scheme of our undertaking. Not that it lacked 
 interest or adventure. Elizabeth halted in Calais 
 in order the better to watch the proceedings of her 
 persecutor, Mr. Medows, about whose proceed- 
 ings and their issue she still felt some uneasiness. 
 She found a resting-place in an old house which 
 she bought of a M. Cocove, a friend of Lord 
 Granby, and a well-known Anglophil of those 
 days. She graciously allowed Mis wife and children 
 to occupy a wing of this house, and seems to have 
 been very kind to them in promises, if not in actual 
 deeds. She would show her dresses and jewels 
 to the demoiselles, and hint at commissions for the 
 sons in the French army. Was not his Majesty 
 King Louis a friend of hers, and ready at all times 
 to do her a civility; did not she herself come of a 
 race of soldiers; when had the valour of the 
 
 215
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 ancient Chudleighs been surpassed? So Eliza- 
 beth bragged and played the grande dame, pulled 
 the old house about, made new entrances and 
 threw out bow windows, but does not seem to have 
 brought any particular prosperity to the poor 
 Cocoves. 
 
 We next hear of her in Rome, where a friar and 
 a cardinal had raided the palace she had left in 
 such a hurry a year before, taking away everything 
 portable except a little Italian maid, whom one, or 
 both, of the holy men had most shamefully ill- 
 treated, or so the maid said. His Holiness the 
 Pope, to whom she appealed, does not seem to 
 have helped her much except with sympathy, and 
 she closed her affairs in that city in some dudgeon 
 and returned to Calais. Here, to her great relief, 
 she heard from her friend Schomberg that the 
 Dean of Arches and other legal luminaries he had 
 consulted had declared the Duke's will to be as 
 safe as the Rock of Gibraltar. She was so grate- 
 ful to Schomberg that she sent him a ring, which, 
 wanting some little repair, was taken to a jeweller, 
 who pronounced it a sham, which had possibly 
 cost thirty francs at the Palais Royal. Its value, 
 however, was no measure of her own satisfaction 
 at the favourable turn in her affairs, and she now 
 prepared to carry out a scheme she had long 
 cherished, that of visiting St. Petersburg, and 
 gaining the recognition of the Czarina. 
 
 There were certain difficulties in carrying out 
 this design, which, however, Elizabeth encoun- 
 
 216
 
 A MAID OF HONOUR 
 
 tered with her usual resolution. In order to ensure 
 a favourable reception at St. Petersburg, she first 
 sent a propitiatory offering of two pictures to Cher- 
 nicheff, the Russian Minister in Paris, with a desire 
 to be assured that she would be welcome at the 
 Czarina's court. She discovered later that the 
 pictures were by Raphael and Claude respectively, 
 and made a desperate attempt to get them back 
 from that gentleman, who, however, refused to 
 accommodate her, and she left a clause in her 
 will calling Heaven to witness that she had only 
 deposited them with him for safety. It is said, 
 also, that she sent a large number of works of art 
 to the Czarina, who sorted out those of value to 
 place in her collection, and very thriftily sold the 
 rest for what they would fetch. She seems, how- 
 ever, to have become assured as to her reception 
 with that potentate, and made preparations for her 
 journey. There was another difficulty in the state 
 of the high seas. The American War of Inde- 
 pendence was in full blast, and Benjamin Frank- 
 lin, the representative of the insurgent colonists at 
 Paris, was besieged by adventurers praying for 
 the grant of letters of marque, which should enable 
 them to plunder all British property in the narrow 
 waters of the Channel. Elizabeth and her for- 
 tunes were now so well known that her person was 
 held to be worth a queen's ransom by these enter- 
 prising gentry, and there was hardly a tarry-breeks 
 able to fit out the meanest lugger who was not 
 itching to set sail as a privateer in quest of her so 
 
 217
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 soon as her yacht should have cleared out of 
 Calais harbour. But Elizabeth was not the woman 
 to fall into such a trap; she outwitted the whole 
 gang by sailing under the French flag by permis- 
 sion of the King. 
 
 The Czarina, who, like Frederic of Prussia, 
 delighted in curiosities, seems to have been quite 
 kind to Elizabeth; her chief grievance was against 
 Sir James Harris, the British ambassador, who 
 could only be civil to her in private, an official 
 slight which Elizabeth is said to have received with 
 some chagrin. Her ambition was to receive some 
 order and decoration from the Empress, and, with 
 this in view, acting upon the advice of some of the 
 Russian nobility, she bought a landed estate near 
 the capital for 12,000, which consisted chiefly, 
 from all accounts, of forest and water. The estate 
 was not profitable, even after she had established 
 a manufactory of vodka upon it, and she left it in 
 charge of an English carpenter, whom she picked 
 up in St. Petersburg, when later she quitted the 
 city. Neither did its possession produce the 
 wished-for distinction from the Empress, who was 
 none the less quite kind presented her, indeed, 
 with another estate on the Neva of considerable 
 value; of a double value to Elizabeth, perhaps, 
 from the rights of seignory it conferred upon her ; 
 her tenants were obliged to kneel and kiss the hem 
 of her garment, to her huge delight. In return 
 for this munificence she gave a banquet of sur- 
 
 218
 
 A MAID OF HONOUR 
 
 passing magnificence, which the Czarina was good 
 enough to honour by her presence, a banquet 
 which required the services of 140 servants, and 
 the service of which was on real plate. In other 
 respects Elizabeth was more careful, for we read 
 of a mutiny among her servants, occasioned, in 
 part, at least, by her unpunctuality in paying 
 wages. She seems to have exhausted the plea- 
 sures of the northern capital, and, finding that the 
 distinction she hoped for was unlikely to be forth- 
 coming, at length turned incontinently to Calais. 
 
 With her fears at last set at rest by the proved 
 stability of the Duke's will, a provincial residence 
 in France w r ithin sight of her native shores was 
 no longer to her taste, and she now looked for a 
 house in Paris. She pitched first upon a mansion 
 at Montmartre, then a sequestered suburb of the 
 city, and its purchase led to litigation which lasted 
 with her life. Later she was in negotiation for a 
 much greater place, that of St. Assise, a domain 
 belonging to Monsieur the King's brother, a great 
 estate, populous with game, and with a mansion 
 containing 300 bedrooms. For this she engaged 
 to pay 53,000 in instalments, of which, it is said, 
 only the first was paid at her death. It is related 
 that during the first week of her possession 500 
 guineas worth of rabbits were killed on this 
 estate. 
 
 Elizabeth's prevailing weakness was obviously 
 a feverish restlessness. " I should despise my- 
 
 219
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 self," she once said, "were I two hours in the 
 same temper." That, doubtless, supplies a reason 
 for her peregrinations about the continent, and, 
 incidentally, for her victimization by half the 
 adventurers of Europe. Among these was the 
 ingenious and interesting rascal who assumed the 
 style and title of Stephan Annibale, Prince d'Al- 
 banie, but who was the son of an honest dealer in 
 mules and bagigi, or children's sweetmeats, of the 
 name of Zannowitch, hailing from some obscure 
 corner of the Balkans. Elizabeth met this rogue 
 in the guise of a pilgrim on one of her expeditions, 
 and his manners and air of mystery attracting her, 
 the pair became fast friends, so much so that the 
 pilgrim declared his royal lineage, his friendship 
 with the most exalted personages of his own rank, 
 and the reasons for his travelling incognito as poor 
 Worta the pilgrim. His history, in fact, was so 
 full of romance, and so like her own, that an 
 affinity declared itself, and there seems little doubt 
 that a marriage between the pair would have re- 
 sulted, but for that unaccommodating clause in 
 the Duke's will. It was only Elizabeth's good 
 fortune which saved her from the enterprising 
 Worta ; as it was, there was a long and affectionate 
 correspondence, and the disguised prince did not 
 fail to draw upon his inamorata in the most trust- 
 ful manner for very comfortable sums, his drafts 
 being always honoured. There was a projected 
 journey of the couple together through Germany, 
 
 220
 
 A MAID OF HONOUR 
 
 during which Elizabeth was to be robbed of her 
 jewels and money, a plot which the prince had 
 arranged with a maid whom he had recommended 
 to Elizabeth, when, by a crowning mercy, his 
 highness, having been chased by the police from 
 one country to another, was finally laid by the 
 heels in Holland on a charge of forgery, where 
 he obligingly took a dose of poison. Elizabeth's 
 letters to this rascal have lately been unearthed 
 from the Dutch criminal archives by an erudite 
 French historian, and may be read in a very inter- 
 esting study of " Prince Stephan" in La Nouvelle 
 Revue for October 1898. 
 
 It is noteworthy that Elizabeth seems to have 
 made no attempt to renew her relations with her 
 great friends at the Prussian and Saxon courts. 
 It is true that she wrote to King Frederic in great 
 affliction at the time of the trial; she was "over- 
 whelmed," she said, "by trouble like David of 
 old, but there were princes graciously inclined, 
 like David, to succour the oppressed." The 
 Electress of Saxony was disposed to find all sorts 
 of excuses for her friend. " Poor thing," she said, 
 " she was so young when she made that first mar- 
 riage." Frederic was quite affable, and offered 
 Berlin as an asylum, where, as he assured her 
 through the Prussian minister in London, her pro- 
 perty, if transmitted to his capital, would be 
 perfectly safe. Elizabeth, however, was quite 
 ungrateful for this kindness. "The King of 
 
 221
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 Prussia is devilishly clever," she remarked to a 
 friend, "but I shall not trust him." These un- 
 worthy suspicions were, perhaps, a reason for her 
 avoiding Berlin and Dresden, but upon one of her 
 visits to St. Petersburg she took occasion to renew 
 her acquaintance with a friend whom she had once 
 met at the Saxon court. 
 
 This was Prince Radzivil, who had some pre- 
 tensions to the crown of Poland, and seems to 
 have been much interested in the lady, and to have 
 corresponded with her for years. She now an- 
 nounced her intention of taking his Highness's 
 dominions on her way back from the Russian 
 capital, and it is said that the Prince, whose affec- 
 tion was undiminished by time, looked upon the 
 visit as likely to realize his fondest hopes. He 
 certainly prepared for her on a scale which has 
 scarcely been exceeded since Solomon met the 
 Queen of Sheba. Berge, a village in one of the 
 Prince's duchies, about forty miles from Riga, was 
 the place of this happy meeting. The Prince, 
 though begging Elizabeth to let him wait upon 
 her without ceremony, appeared with a retinue 
 which filled forty carriages of six horses each, and 
 provided riders for six hundred horses, besides a 
 guard of hussars. The entire nobility of his prin- 
 cipality waited on this plain Devonshire woman 
 of sixty; she slept in a new palace every night 
 during her visit of a fortnight ; he built a complete 
 village of wooden houses in which to entertain her 
 
 222
 
 A MAID OF HONOUR 
 
 at a banquet and rural fair; she was escorted by 
 guards of honour bearing torches to her place of 
 rest each night; there were midnight boar-hunts, 
 in which the quarry was driven into a circle of 
 lighted torches to be dispatched before her eyes; 
 the whole country blazed nightly with bonfires and 
 fireworks; never was known such feasting, such 
 dancing, such joyous salvoes of artillery. "He 
 may fire as much as he pleases," said Elizabeth 
 to one of her suite, after one of these compli- 
 mentary detonations, "but he shall not hit my 
 mark." And so she left the confiding gentleman 
 much the poorer by the expenses of this royal 
 entertainment and by a profusion of costly 
 presents which he heaped upon her. 
 
 It is difficult even to suggest a reason for Eliza- 
 beth's success with this sort of company; all the 
 particulars of her manners and personality that 
 have survived in numerous contemporary memoirs 
 are of a vulgar character, even coarse and disgust- 
 ing. Yet she moved about from the establishment 
 of one great personage to another, and was treated 
 by all like a queen. A Polish bishop of Wilna 
 is said to have been among her ardent admirers, a 
 band which also included the Patriarch of Jeru- 
 salem, whom she met at Rome, and who shared 
 the enthusiasm of Pope Clement for her person 
 and conversation. After her royal entertainment 
 by Prince Radzivil, she dropped in, so to speak, 
 upon Count Oginski, the "Ornament of Human 
 
 223
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 Nature," as Frederic of Prussia called him in his 
 enthusiastic way, the friend of the French king, 
 the enlightened patron of the arts, the accom- 
 plished artist and musician, the Crichton of his 
 times, in fact. If we are to believe her biographer, 
 there was the greatest emulation for her hand be- 
 tween the accomplished Count and Radzivil, who 
 accompanied her. However this may have been, 
 it is certain that she was again royally entertained. 
 But Elizabeth had either seen too much of matri- 
 mony, or preferred her independence and her dear 
 Duke's estate to the glory of either of these 
 alliances, for she remained fancy free to the end 
 of the chapter. 
 
 This came rather suddenly in 1778. The widow 
 was at dinner at St. Assise when a servant entered 
 with the news that some litigation in which she had 
 been long engaged had gone against her. This 
 threw her into a violent passion, which broke an 
 internal blood-vessel. She refused to lie by, dis- 
 regarded the doctor's orders to abstain from wine, 
 drank two glasses of Madeira, lay on a sofa and 
 expired during her sleep without a struggle, so 
 gently, indeed, that her maid who held her hand 
 knew only of her passing by its coldness. Some 
 little reparation to the Duke's family she had 
 made by receiving her old antagonist, Evelyn 
 Pierrepont, into favour, paying his debts, giving 
 him 500 a year, and making him the legatee of 
 her personal property, which was considerable in 
 
 224
 
 A MAID OF HONOUR 
 
 spite of her dissipation. The landed estate went, 
 by the Duke's will, to the younger brother, Charles 
 Medows. This gentleman assumed the name of 
 Pierrepont, was ennobled, and the family name of 
 the Dukes of Kingston survives to-day in the 
 patronymic of the Earls of Manvers. 
 
 225
 
 ? 2 227
 
 V 
 THE COMPLETE GAMESTER 
 
 THERE are few great figures of English history 
 whose characters display richer contrasts than that 
 of Charles Fox. " Fox had three passions," said 
 one of his friends, "women, play, and politics, 
 yet he never formed a creditable connection with 
 a woman, he squandered all his means at the 
 gaming-table, and except for eleven months, he 
 was constantly in Opposition." That estimate of 
 Fox's career came to be modified before he died, 
 but it was fairly accurate at the time it was uttered. 
 His contemporaries during his early manhood 
 could not fail to be struck with some of the con- 
 tradictions of his character. On the one hand was 
 the inspired orator of the House of Commons, 
 the prophet of a great political party, the personal 
 opponent during twenty years of the court and 
 King George. On the other was a ruined spend- 
 thrift sunk under a load of debt almost before he 
 was out of his 'teens, whose furniture went down 
 St. James's Street in the bailiffs' carts at regular 
 intervals, who had lost fortune after fortune of his 
 own and had compromised the estates of half his 
 
 229
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 acquaintance by his reckless folly, and yet was 
 regarded as the best of good fellows by his 
 victims, and was almost adored by everybody 
 who came in contact with him. 
 
 Most of the qualities which went to make up 
 that complex character were displayed very com- 
 pletely at Brooks's, the old club in St. James's 
 Street which has now lighted its candles con- 
 tinuously for just a hundred and forty-five years. 
 Fox was the presiding genius of the early Brooks's. 
 The club may be regarded as his home during the 
 first twenty years of his career. Here the extra- 
 ordinary charm of his manner drew his friends 
 around him, and converted a society which at first 
 lacked all colour of politics into the citadel of his 
 party. At Brooks's, above all, Fox developed that 
 passion for high play which made him the very 
 prototype of all gamesters and kept him in a 
 chronic state of distress which would have sub- 
 merged a weaker nature, until at the age of near 
 fifty he was rescued by a subscription of 70,000 
 among his friends at the club. 
 
 Those same exploits of Fox at the hazard and 
 faro tables at Brooks's are well known, but they 
 have perhaps received less attention than might 
 have been expected. Fox's biographers, from 
 Lord Holland to Sir George Trevelyan, naturally, 
 and perhaps properly, treat the subject with 
 delicacy. The enormous extent of Fox's trans- 
 actions at the play-tables is of course recorded, 
 
 230
 
 THE COMPLETE GAMESTER 
 
 and although there has been no desire to withhold 
 such censure as his conduct in this particular 
 seemed to deserve, the very magnitude of his deal- 
 ings in dice and cards has caused some inaccurate 
 inferences to be drawn, and as a consequence has 
 led to the establishment of a very erroneous 
 tradition. That tradition, which can be traced to 
 the daintiness with which Fox's biographers have 
 dealt with the subject, was undoubtedly per- 
 petuated by one of his contemporaries, in whose 
 words it is best stated. The last Lord Egremont, 
 the Maecenas of Petworth, a nobleman universally 
 beloved who died early in the reign of Queen 
 Victoria, told Lord Holland, Fox's nephew and 
 biographer, 
 
 " That he was convicted by reflection aided by 
 his subsequent experience of the world that there 
 was at that time some unfair confederacy among 
 some of the 'players., and that the great losers, 
 especially Mr. Fox, were actually duped and 
 cheated. He would, he said, have been torn in 
 pieces and stoned by the losers themselves for 
 even hinting such a thing at the time. He was 
 nevertheless satisfied that the immoderate, con- 
 stant, and unparalleled advantage over Charles 
 Fox and other young men were not to be 
 accounted for by the difference in passing or hold- 
 ing the box or the hazard of the die. He had 
 indeed no suspicion any more than the rest at the 
 time, but he had thought it much over since, and 
 now had." 
 
 231
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 These speculations of Lord Egremont upon 
 events which had happened half-a-century earlier, 
 unsupported as they are by any evidence, would 
 have attracted little notice had they not been 
 quoted by Lord Holland in the Memorials of his 
 uncle in support of the tradition we have men- 
 tioned. But it will be seen that the acceptance 
 of Lord Egremont's suggestion concerns more 
 reputations than one. The gaming at which Fox 
 is supposed to have suffered took place almost 
 exclusively at Brooks's, and if indeed he was vic- 
 timized, it was at the hands of members of that 
 club. Many of these were of great station and all 
 of unsullied reputation. There was no question 
 of meeting at Brooks's the adventurers who 
 swarmed at the public gaming-tables of the coffee- 
 houses. The club from the first was an exclusive 
 society of gentlemen, and if there was any unfair 
 confederacy among the members who met Charles 
 Fox at its play-tables, the fame of many notable 
 men of that day is besmirched. But a considera- 
 tion of the evidence which has gradually accumu- 
 lated upon the details of Fox's private life will, 
 we think, remove all such doubts and will supply 
 ample explanations of the derangement which 
 existed in his finances in his own conduct, without 
 involving that of others. 
 
 Fox's career as a gamester may be divided into 
 two distinct periods. For about ten years follow- 
 ing 1768, when at the age of nineteen he first 
 
 232
 
 THE COMPLETE GAMESTER 
 
 appeared as a man about town, the male society 
 of the day was wholly given up to a rage for 
 hazard. The game was played for enormous 
 stakes both at the public gaming-tables and at 
 private assemblies. But the chief scene of high 
 play between gentlemen was at Almack's, a club 
 named after its first proprietor, which was the 
 parent of the present Brooks's, and had been 
 opened in 1764 on the site of the Marlborough 
 Club in Pall Mall. Young Fox immediately took 
 his place among the band of choice spirits who 
 made Almack's their rendezvous, and became and 
 remained a chief exponent of hazard until its 
 vogue expired in favour of faro shortly before 
 1780. 
 
 Almack's had been founded by twenty-seven 
 young men of good birth, all under twenty-five 
 years of age, with the single object of providing 
 a meeting-place where they might indulge their 
 passion for high play undisturbed. That object 
 is abundantly clear from the original rules. These 
 prescribed that no one should sit down at the 
 tables without a substantial sum in gold before 
 him; they suggest also that every room in the 
 club was devoted to gambling in one form or 
 another, for there is an enactment that "No 
 gaming be permitted in the eating-rooom except 
 tossing for reckonings, on penalty of paying the 
 whole bill of the members present." So well 
 were these rules adapted to their purpose that 
 
 233
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 Horace Walpole declared there was usually a sum 
 of ; 1 0,000 on the table in bullion, and the club 
 had not been going a year before the town began 
 to ring with the exploits of the generous youth 
 who haunted its rooms to the despair of their 
 parents and guardians. 
 
 When young Fox joined Almack's, in 1768, 
 there was already assembled a compact band of 
 gamblers who devoted themselves to hazard 
 Sundays and weekdays throughout the season. 
 It was among these men that Fox took his place, 
 and if, as Lord Egremont suggested, he was 
 duped and cheated, it was at the hands of these 
 men that he suffered, and we must choose among 
 a very good company for the betrayers of his 
 youth and innocence. The habitual frequenters 
 of the hazard-room at Almack's were such men 
 as the Duke of Buccleuch, Lord Melbourne, Lord 
 Derby, Lord Cholmondeley, Lord Clermont, 
 Admiral Rodney and Admiral Pigott, General 
 Burgoyne and General Scott, Lord Harrington 
 and Sir Thomas Clarges. To these we may add 
 the group of young men who surrounded George 
 Selwyn, with that gentleman at their head, 
 Richard Fitzpatrick and his brother, Lord Upper 
 Ossory, Lord Carlisle, Lord March, Sir Charles 
 Bunbury, Lord Bolingbroke and his brother Mr. 
 St. John, Storer, Hare, Boothby and "Fish" 
 Craufurd. Last came the Fox group, Charles 
 himself, his brother Stephen, and his cousin young 
 
 234
 
 THE COMPLETE GAMESTER 
 
 Lord Stavordale, one of the boldest of all the 
 plungers. 
 
 It is surely inconceivable that such men as these 
 should have conspired to cheat Fox or any one 
 else. Hazard, moreover, was a game at which 
 cheating was impossible except by the use of 
 loaded dice. It was a game of pure chance at 
 which the novice met the most case-hardened of 
 gamesters on equal terms, except perhaps in the 
 all-important matter of knowing when to stop. 
 But there is ample evidence of the ruin which 
 the practice of the game spread among the 
 players. The stakes were enormous. Lord 
 Carlisle lost 10,000 at one cast at the club, a 
 sum in no way exceptional if we are to judge by 
 a remark made by Lord Stavordale. That young 
 gentleman won the same amount at a throw at the 
 Cocoa Tree and " swore a great oath saying ' If 
 I had been playing deep, I might have won 
 millions/ ' Obviously transactions of this sort 
 required capital on a lordly scale, and the younger 
 men at Almack's soon discovered a way of supply- 
 ing their wants. They would go to the usurers 
 for large sums of ready money. Their expecta- 
 tions would be duly weighed by those gentry, and 
 the advance made in exchange for a bond which 
 guaranteed the payment of an annuity to cover 
 the repayment of capital with interest reckoned 
 on a generous scale. We may form some idea of 
 the aggregate amount of these transactions from 
 
 235
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 a remark of Horace Walpole, who noted in 1772 
 that there were advertised to be sold "more 
 annuities of Charles Fox and his society." This 
 particular sale was to secure the payment of 
 $00,000 a year. 
 
 Hazard at Almack's, indeed, was played with 
 money borrowed by the players at ruinous interest, 
 and there is little need to search for other causes 
 of the disaster which it brought into the affairs of 
 the men who devoted their lives to the game. The 
 general effect of the play at Almack's can best be 
 followed in the Selwyn correspondence. As one 
 man felt the pressure of a debt of honour he was 
 forced to apply to friends who owed him sums on 
 a like account. We may read how Lord Derby, 
 "having lost a very monstrous sum of money," 
 took the liberty of applying to Selwyn for a debt 
 which he owed him ; how Fitzpatrick, approached 
 by Selwyn with the same object, would have 
 "coined his heart and dropped his blood into 
 drachmas" had he been able, but as it was he 
 could not raise a guinea. We learn too that 
 Admiral Rodney had to run off to France to 
 avoid the bailiffs, and that his wife, coming over 
 to try to raise a fund among his club-mates to 
 enable him to return, failed utterly. We may note 
 also that a temporary withdrawal from the hazard- 
 room was pleasantly known as "fattening," and 
 the inevitable catastrophe of the return as "cut- 
 ting up." 
 
 236
 
 THE COMPLETE GAMESTER 
 
 Such letters as these reflect some of the diffi- 
 culties of Fox's companions at Brooks's; there is 
 less need to seek additional causes for his own 
 embarrassment because he started life encumbered 
 with a heavy load of debt which he had incurred 
 at nearly every capital on the continent during 
 the grand tour. Hazard, moreover, was only one 
 of his dissipations, his routine included riotous 
 living in every phase of the life of his day. A 
 typical instance is recorded by both Walpole and 
 Gibbon. Fox sat down one evening at Brooks's 
 at seven in the evening and played till five on 
 the following afternoon. He then went to the 
 House of Commons and delivered a speech upon 
 the Church Bill. "Charles Fox prepared him- 
 self for that holy work," says Gibbon, " by passing 
 twenty-two hours in the pious exercise of hazard." 
 After the debate he went to White's, where he 
 drank till seven in the morning. A few hours later 
 he returned to Brooks's, where he won 6000 at 
 hazard, and between three and four in the after- 
 noon he left London for the races at Newmarket. 
 
 This was obviously a wasteful mode of life 
 which would require a large fortune to maintain, 
 while as a fact Fox never had a shilling of his 
 own after he was grown up. Lord Holland's last 
 years were spent in trying to redeem the liabilities 
 incurred by his sons, and when in 1774 he died, 
 everything he left to Charles was already fore- 
 stalled, and that young man was also under heavy 
 
 237
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 obligations to half his friends. The estate of 
 Kingsgate was seized by his creditors, and a sine- 
 cure office of 2000 a year, to which he had suc- 
 ceeded on the death of his brother Stephen, went 
 the same way. As to his obligations to his ac- 
 quaintances their extent is suggested at least by 
 a remark of ^Walpole, who, in mentioning an 
 attempted settlement of Charles's debts by Lord 
 Holland a few months before his death, says, 
 ",The arrangement aimed at paying all Charles's 
 debts with the exception of a trifle of 30,000 
 and those of Lord Carlisle, Crewe, and Foley, 
 who being friends, not Jews, may wait." 
 
 So far, indeed, from Fox being the victim of 
 his companions, it was some of these who enabled 
 him to keep his place at the gaming-tables; it is 
 clear, too, that he often assumed a very jaunty 
 attitude in face of his liabilities to them. .There 
 was Lord Carlisle's case for example. That young 
 nobleman had stood security for an advance by 
 a money-lender to Fox for a sum of 15,000. 
 Carlisle himself was embarrassed and sought 
 relief from the payment of the annuity upon the 
 borrowed money. Selwyn, as a friend of both 
 parties, endeavoured to bring about a settlement 
 and called upon Fox to suggest a discharge of 
 Carlisle's claim. " I was answered only by an 
 elevation de ses epaules et une grimace" he 
 writes, and continues bitterly, " the Messieurs Fox 
 were born for great stations, they were educated 
 
 238
 
 THE COMPLETE GAMESTER 
 
 with great indulgence, and if the Jews won't pay 
 for them the Gentiles must." Selwyn even ex- 
 horted Carlisle to resist the payment of the 
 annuity : " Let them sell your furniture to call 
 attention to the scandal. In a very little time a 
 demand upon you will be as good as an accepted 
 draft on Child's shop." 
 
 Without having been able absolutely to dis- 
 prove Lord Egremont's deliberate statement that 
 Fox was cheated at hazard, we have perhaps sug- 
 gested other causes for the dispersal of his fortune 
 during the vogue of that game. But in coming 
 to the second period of his career as a gamester 
 we have the advantage of a remarkable series 
 of letters which were written to Lord Carlisle, 
 irom 1780 onwards, by Fox's own companions 
 at the club, Selwyn, Hare, and Storer. These 
 letters are rich in details of the life at Brooks's 
 during the rage for faro which succeeded that for 
 hazard, and unless we are to suppose that Fox 
 changed his disposition and his habits in a 
 moment, they serve to throw a retrospective light 
 upon the period we have already examined in 
 which details are scarce. In any case they dispose 
 altogether of the suggestion that Fox was the 
 victim of his companions after 1780; on the con- 
 trary, they establish the fact that he was the 
 winner of enormous sums at Brooks's, and they 
 remove him once and for all from the category 
 of the pigeons. 
 
 *39
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 Hazard suffered a decline in favour among 
 gentlemen during the few years preceding 1780, 
 and the gamblers at Brooks's were at that time 
 looking out for another game to take its place. 
 The fame of the doings at hazard at the club 
 had not been lost upon humbler societies else- 
 where, and dicing had descended to low com- 
 panies of scoundrels at disreputable taverns and 
 coffee-houses where cheating was general. All 
 sorts of ruffians congregated at these places, dis- 
 putes were of daily occurrence in which men often 
 lost their lives, and the results were constantly 
 before coroners and police magistrates. As a 
 consequence hazard lost favour as a game for 
 gentlemen; certainly at Brooks's it was discarded 
 in favour of faro. 
 
 Faro, a simplified form of basset, a game which 
 had a great vogue in England under the Stuarts, 
 was played between a dealer, who kept the bank, 
 and the rest of the company. In essentials it was 
 perfectly simple, and much resembled the Self 
 and Company still played by children. But there 
 were many variations which made the game at- 
 tractive to all sorts of players from the most 
 cautious to the most reckless. Ostensibly it was 
 fair as between dealer and the rest of the com- 
 pany, but as a fact it was not so. Ties paid the 
 dealer, the last card of the pack was his in any 
 event, and there were certain collective advan- 
 tages known as "the pull of the table," which 
 
 240
 
 THE COMPLETE GAMESTER 
 
 made the running of a faro-bank a very profitable 
 concern. 
 
 The game was introduced at Brooks's by Charles 
 Fox and his friend Fitzpatrick, who had already 
 been associated as partners at the club during the 
 hazard period. In January of 1780 we read of the 
 pair setting up the first faro-table at Brooks's : 
 " C'est une banque de fondation" wrote Selwyn 
 to Carlisle, " Messieurs Charles et Richard en sont 
 les fondateurs, or at least that is my opinion." 
 Before many weeks had passed the partnership 
 was avowed, and it was soon clear to the town that 
 all the glories of hazard were to be revived at Fox 
 and Fitzpatrick's faro-bank. The concern had 
 not been running three months before London 
 became vocal about the ravages of the partner- 
 ship upon the pockets of the rest of the company. 
 Selwyn himself, one of the most seasoned of the 
 older set at the club, was among its first victims. 
 We find Storer writing to Carlisle that he was 
 afraid to speak to George upon the subject of 
 faro, "he was so larmoyant the other morning 
 over his losses." A month or so later we have the 
 advantage of Selwyn's remarks upon Storer in 
 the same connection : " Storer was out of spirits 
 after he had been losing his money like a simple 
 
 boy at Charles and Richard's d d faro-bank, 
 
 which swallows up everybody's cash who comes to 
 Brooks's." Lord Robert Spencer and his brother 
 Lord Edward were other victims. Their brother 
 Q 241
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 the Duke of Marlborough came to their assist- 
 ance, but very much to his own embarrassment. 
 " The Duke says he cannot now give one-third 
 to his younger children of wEat he has given to 
 his two brothers, who have left him to be seduced 
 by Charles Fox. Here is a Fox running off a 
 second time with their geese from Marlborough 
 House, as the old Duchess used to say." 
 
 Fox's success at the new game was so striking 
 that it encouraged competitors. Early in the 
 season of 1781 Walpole wrote 
 
 " My nephew Lord Cholmondeley, the banker 
 a la mode, has been demolished. He and his 
 associate, Sir Willoughby Aston, went early the 
 other night to Brooks's before Charles Fox and 
 Fitzpatrick were come and set up a faro-bank, 
 but they soon arrived, attacked their rivals, broke 
 the bank, and won above ^4000. ' There/ said 
 Fox, ' so should all usurpers be served.' ' 
 
 Fox indeed, like the iTurk, would bear no 
 brother near the throne. He and Fitzpatrick 
 resolved to keep the lucrative business of faro 
 at Brooks's to themselves. To this end they 
 decided to discourage competition by broadening 
 the basis of the firm, and in 1781 they took in as 
 junior partners men who were potential rivals at 
 the club. These were Fox's great friend Hare, 
 Lord Robert Spencer (the victim of the previous 
 year), and a gentleman who goes by the name of 
 iTrusty in the Carlisle letters. These three had 
 
 242
 
 THE COMPLETE GAMESTER 
 
 each a twelfth share in the profits, Fox and Fitz- 
 patrick dividing the remaining nine-twelfths. In 
 addition the juniors were conceded a special 
 allowance for dealing, a guinea for each deal at 
 first, subsequently reduced "by an edict of 
 Charles " to five guineas the hour, which is, per- 
 haps, an index to the magnitude of the trans- 
 actions of the firm. The heads of the concern 
 were still the chief operators, but the junior part- 
 ners were expected to relieve them whenever 
 required, and to keep the game going as long 
 as a single punter could be found to lay a 
 stake. 
 
 That this is no exaggeration is plain from the 
 accounts of some prolonged sittings which at- 
 tracted attention in 1781. 
 
 " Yesterday [wrote Selwyn in May] I saw a 
 hackney coach which announced a late sitting. I 
 had the curiosity to inquire how things were, and 
 found Richard in his faro pulpit where he had 
 been alternately with Charles since the evening 
 before, dealing to Admiral Pigott only." 
 
 A week later the Admiral matched himself 
 against the bank single-handed throughout a sit- 
 ting of twenty-four hours. " The account brought 
 to White's about supper-time was that he had rose 
 to eat a mutton-chop, but that merits confirma- 
 tion," is Selwyn's jocular comment in the style of 
 the news-sheets of those days. 
 
 It is not surprising to find that a business so 
 
 Q2 243
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 carefully founded and so diligently conducted had 
 a gratifying success. .When Fox's political duties 
 required his presence in the House of Commons, 
 or his pleasure took him to Newmarket, or if Fitz- 
 patrick was with his regiment, Lord Robert 
 Spencer, Mr. Hare, or Mr. Trusty stepped into 
 the vacant place and continued the business of the 
 firm. The calls of this business were so well 
 understood that the partners were never asked to 
 dine at the same hour. Selwyn gave a party which 
 included the bankers. :< The two not on duty 
 come here at five," he wrote, " and when the other 
 two come off they will find des rechauffees" Dur- 
 ing the season of 1781-2 there was scarcely any 
 cessation of play. " The vestal fire," wrote Storer, 
 "is perpetually kept up, and they, like salaman- 
 ders, flourish in the flames." The bankers' coaches 
 were never ordered until six in the morning, and 
 the fluctuations of the play were the subject of a 
 paragraph in every letter. :< The rise and fall of 
 the bank is not yet added to the other stocks in 
 the morning paper," wrote Selwyn, "but it is 
 frequently declared from the windows to passers- 
 by." 
 
 An immediate effect of the faro at Brooks's was 
 a surprising change in Fox's affairs, a rise from 
 indigence to affluence which was at once reflected 
 in his personal appearance and in his surround- 
 ings. Selwyn returned after a few days' absence 
 from town to find 
 
 244
 
 THE COMPLETE GAMESTER 
 
 " Charles elbow-deep in gold who but a few days 
 ago wanted a guinea. . . . He is in high spirits 
 and cash, pays and loses and wins and performs 
 all feats to make his roman complete. I never 
 saw such a transition from distress to opulency, 
 from dirt to cleanliness. I saw Charles to-day in 
 a new hat, frock, waistcoat, shirt and stockings. 
 He was as clean and smug as a gentleman ; if he is 
 at last a field-preacher, I shall not be surprised." 
 
 Fox's house became resplendent with paint and 
 varnish; he bought racehorses for sums he was 
 ashamed to own ; he even began to pay his debts. 
 At the end of 1781 he owned to Selwyn that his 
 share of the winnings amounted to ,30,000, a sum 
 obtained solely from his club-mates at Brooks's 
 which supported him in all sorts of excesses else- 
 where. He and Fitzpatrick would leave the con- 
 duct of the game to their juniors and go down to 
 Kenny's in Pall Mall to take a fling at hazard, lose 
 5000 at a sitting, and, wonder of all, pay their 
 losses at the time. Fox confessed to losing 
 ^ 1 0,000 at the October meeting at Newmarket, 
 and he mentioned to Selwyn, as a matter of no 
 importance, that he had lost 8000 in two days 
 " at various sports." 
 
 It is worthy of note that this period of fruitful 
 activity at Brooks's coincided exactly with Fox's 
 most inspired moments as a politician. His 
 oratory in the House of Commons was already 
 shaking the Government and the time was nearly 
 ripe for the return of Lord Rockingham to power 
 
 245
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 with Fox himself as a minister. The contrast 
 between the inspired orator at Westminster and 
 the f aro-b'anker at Brooks's was not lost upon the 
 town. The town indeed could not miss it, so 
 unblushing and so public were the exploits of the 
 partners at the club. 
 
 :< The pharaoh bank [writes Selwyn] is held in 
 a manner which being so exposed to public view 
 bids defiance to all decency and police. The 
 whole town as it passes views the dealers and the 
 punters by means of the candles and windows 
 being level with the ground. They remind me of 
 all the little porpoises which you see leaping into 
 the great one's mouth in the ombres chinoises" 
 
 The contrast between the private and political 
 life of Fox, indeed, forced itself upon the notice 
 of some of the austerer spirits of his party. '' The 
 Opposition, who have Charles for their ablest 
 advocate," says Selwyn, "are quite ashamed of 
 the proceedings and hate to have them men- 
 tioned." It was the occasion, too, for much base- 
 less scandal which need not be repeated here, and 
 at the end of the season of 1782 there was a 
 general feeling that faro at Brooks's was altogether 
 too one-sided a game, and Selwyn records his 
 doubts " whether the people at Brooks's will suffer 
 this pillage another season." 
 
 As a fact they suffered many more, though the 
 return of the Whigs to power was the signal for 
 Fox to withdraw from any active part in the con- 
 
 246
 
 THE COMPLETE GAMESTER 
 
 cern. " Spencer and Hare held the bank last 
 night," writes Selwyn, " but the Secretary's name 
 is ordered to be left out of that commission, so 
 ostensibly he has no more to do with it." This is 
 
 4 
 
 partly confirmatory of Lord Holland's statement 
 that during Fox's spell of office he never touched 
 a dice or a card. As, however, his term of office 
 lasted just four months on this occasion and seven 
 during the Coalition of 1783, the point does not 
 seem of vast importance. It is quite certain that 
 the bank was carried on, and that it was the parent 
 of others quite as successful. There is ample 
 evidence that Fox was the centre of the faro at 
 Brooks's until 1787 at least, and it is important 
 to remember that he was a banker throughout the 
 years during which he played the game. The 
 extent of his share of the winnings may perhaps 
 be gauged by the luck of his junior Lord Robert 
 Spencer, who retired a little later with a fortune 
 with which he purchased a landed estate at 
 Woolbeding. 
 
 Who, then, were the victims? The answer to 
 that question is, " All the men who played faro at 
 the club with the exception of some half-dozen 
 who ran the banks." A very superficial acquaint- 
 ance with the private correspondence of the times 
 is convincing upon the point. The male society 
 of that day was embarrassed and set by the ears 
 by their losses at Brooks's : Selwyn and his 
 friends, Sir Godfrey Webster, Sir Charles Bun- 
 
 247
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 bury, Lord Monson, Sir J. Ramsden, Lord Bess- 
 borough and his son Lord Duncannon, Lord 
 Surrey, Lord Derby, the Duke of Devonshire, 
 Lord Clermont, Lord Burford, Lord Drogheda, 
 royal princes like the Duke of York, eminent 
 foreigners like the Duke of Orleans and the Due 
 de Lauzun, Admiral Pigott, Lord Thanet, and 
 Lord Foley. Some of these had the resolution 
 to set moderate limits to their play, but the regular 
 loss of a few hundreds by each of the rank and 
 file provided a handsome income for the bankers. 
 Of others, whose recklessness knew no bounds, 
 the estates and the descendants are suffering to- 
 day. Typical of these was Lord Foley, who died 
 with a heavily charged estate and without a shil- 
 ling in 1793. He had started life not many years 
 before with an unencumbered property, an income 
 of ; 1 8,000 a year, and 100,000 in ready money. 
 It may be further asked what became of Fox's 
 winnings. Here again, the particulars of his pri- 
 vate life, and some well-known peculiarities of his 
 temperament, supply a complete answer. Fox 
 was submerged as a youth, and nothing but a life 
 of strict economy and a large income could have 
 put him straight again ; but he was a spendthrift 
 by nature, incapable of keeping a shilling in his 
 pocket, and a man, moreover, who ran through the 
 gamut of dissipation in every form until he arrived 
 at middle age. Knowing what we do of his life, 
 another question is perhaps the more pertinent. 
 
 248
 
 THE COMPLETE GAMESTER 
 
 Whence, after his father's death in 1774, came the 
 funds to provide for his royal extravagance ? The 
 answer is that he was supported for years by the 
 losses of his club-mates at Brooks's, the very men 
 who according to Lord Egremont conspired to 
 cheat him. 
 
 That his lordship was perfectly sincere in his 
 opinion there can be no doubt, but his remarks 
 were evidently inspired by a good-natured desire 
 to find some excuse for the shortcomings of a great 
 Englishman whose enemies even acknowledged 
 at the last that his virtues were all his own and his 
 vices only assumed. Fox's virtues and vices have 
 long since been weighed in the balance, and the 
 fact that his reputation has survived the ordeal 
 is a proof of his real greatness. The fame of a 
 lesser nature than his would have been extin- 
 guished by the astonishing record of his follies.
 
 VI 
 THE INCOMPARABLE BRUMMELL 
 
 251
 
 VI 
 THE INCOMPARABLE BRUMMELL 
 
 THERE came upon the town under the patron- 
 age of the Prince of Wales in the year 1794 a 
 young fellow of sixteen who was destined to a 
 very remarkable career. The Prince, as honorary 
 Colonel of the Tenth Hussars, had presented the 
 boy with a commission in that fashionable regi- 
 ment, and young Mr. Brummell may thus be said 
 to have entered life under very distinguished 
 auspices, of which, to do him justice, he was not 
 slow to take advantage. He gained no military 
 distinction, it is true, though the times offered 
 great chances for young gentlemen of spirit en- 
 tering the army, and there was many a young 
 officer, afterwards known to fame, learning the 
 goose-step in the year 1 794. As a fact, Mr. George 
 Brummell quitted the service within four years, 
 and, so far as can be learned, his only military 
 feat was performed as one of the escort which 
 in 1795 conducted his royal patron's luckless 
 bride, Princess Caroline, from Greenwich to her 
 dismal wedding at St. James's. Mr. Brummell's 
 avocations, therefore, were eminently peaceful, 
 
 253
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 and it was upon no stricken field in Spain or 
 Flanders that he gained his prodigious reputation. 
 Yet it is probable that to a large section of the 
 society of that day the position attained by Mr. 
 Brummell at the age of five-and-twenty presented 
 greater attractions than military renown, however 
 distinguished. Lord Byron declared candidly 
 that he would have rather been Brummell than 
 Napoleon Bonaparte. Whether his lordship's re- 
 mark is a proof of his judgment may be doubted, 
 but of Brummeirs social splendour there is no 
 doubt whatever. At that early age an exclusive 
 and rich aristocracy was at his feet; his royal 
 patron was affected to tears when this paragon 
 differed with him upon a matter of taste; the 
 proudest ladies in England were grateful to him 
 for a word of civility to their daughters. As for 
 tradesmen, his patronage of jewellers, tailors and 
 tobacconists made their fortunes, though he 
 rarely paid their bills. Considering his origin, 
 and the epoch in which he flourished, George 
 Bryan Brummell must be regarded as a phenome- 
 non. There is record of others of his calling, of 
 course, in the annals of most nations since history 
 began, but the great dandies of history, from Alci- 
 biades downwards, have had other and greater 
 qualities than those of exquisite deportment ; they 
 have been soldiers, statesmen, poets or scholars. 
 Brummell was none of these; yet he reigned 
 supreme in British society for near twenty years, 
 
 254
 
 THE INCOMPARABLE BRUMMELL 
 
 and he founded a dynasty of social despots to 
 succeed him whose power is remembered by 
 people still living. Solemn biographies have been 
 written about Brummell and his career, and treat- 
 ises on the cult of dandyism which he founded 
 are not rare, especially in France, where its splen- 
 dour excited great admiration. For us the famous 
 beau and his success have a particular interest, 
 for they may be regarded, though in a limited 
 aspect, as the very blossom of one of the periods 
 we seek to illustrate ; that of the Regency. There 
 is probably nothing more to appear about Brum- 
 mell; the memoir writers and the correspondents 
 and diarists of his time have done their best for 
 him; he has been dead nearly seventy years, and 
 his real career closed a quarter of a century earlier. 
 So the time seems ripe for an impartial estimate 
 of his character. 
 
 The young man who was destined to the posi- 
 tion of arbiter of social life in England at a time 
 when social caste was of a very inflexible texture, 
 and classes were more sharply divided than at 
 present, certainly owed nothing of his success to 
 any advantage of birth. George Bryan Brum- 
 mell came of respectable parentage, but his origin 
 was distinctly middle-class. His grandfather, 
 William Brummell, was a tradesman, a confec- 
 tioner, it is said, who lived in Bury Street, St. 
 James's, and had been at one time a servant to 
 Mr. Charles Monson, brother of the first peer of 
 
 255
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 that name. William was accustomed to add to 
 his income by letting lodgings at his house in 
 Bury Street, and had a son, another William, an 
 industrious and capable boy, who, among other 
 accomplishments, wrote a very excellent hand. 
 His penmanship, in fact, was displayed to such 
 advantage in the notice of "Apartments to Let" 
 which was exposed in the window in Bury Street, 
 that it is said to have attracted the attention of Mr. 
 Charles Jenkinson, afterwards Earl of Liverpool, 
 and at the time a politician of some note in the 
 early governments of King George the Third. In 
 any case, Mr. Jenkinson took rooms with old 
 Brummell in Bury Street, and in so doing founded 
 the modest fortunes of the Brummell family. 
 
 Mr. Jenkinson, who became an under-secretary 
 in the Duke of Newcastle's administration in 
 1761, was then, and later, a very busy gentleman, 
 and he found young William Brummell, with his 
 nice handwriting and general intelligence and 
 obliging disposition, a great help in his corre- 
 spondence. It was not long before he offered the 
 boy regular employment as his amanuensis, and 
 himself getting promotion as Secretary of the 
 Treasury a year or two later, bestowed a clerk- 
 ship in that department upon young Brummell, 
 who thus took a first step which led on to fortune. 
 Jenkinson recommended the young clerk for his 
 intelligence and industry to Lord North, who in 
 1767 made him his private secretary, and William 
 
 256
 
 THE INCOMPARABLE BRUMMELL 
 
 Brummell shared the fortunes of that minister, 
 and was thenceforward in the centre of great 
 affairs. BrummeH's work appears little in the 
 annals of the time, but there is no doubt he was 
 the minister's right-hand man. It is recorded that 
 when London lay at the mercy of Lord George 
 Gordon's mob in 1780, and his lordship was so 
 concerned at the aspect of affairs that he found it 
 necessary to consult his chief adversary, Mr. 
 Charles James Fox, at a secret meeting arranged 
 by Mr. Sheridan behind the scenes of his theatre, 
 it was William Brummell who attended the min- 
 ister at his conference with those statesmen. 
 
 William Brummell thus started well in life, 
 improved his prospects by a judicious marriage, 
 the lady of his choice being a, Miss Richardson, 
 daughter of a gentleman official of the Lottery 
 Office. The Richardsons claimed descent from 
 some legal big-wig of the time of James the First, 
 the young lady's father was a friend of Mr. 
 Thomas Coutts the banker, and "an expensive 
 man about town," and was inclined to look 
 askance at the pretensions of the Treasury Clerk 
 to be his son-in-law. But his objections were 
 overcome, the marriage duly took place, and the 
 Richardsons assuredly never regretted it. In 
 1788 William Brummell was able to retire to a 
 country house in Berkshire, became high sheriff of 
 that county, and bore the reputation of great 
 charity. He was a man of substance, of a liberal 
 R 257
 
 hospitality and of general good report, and num- 
 bered men like Fox and Sheridan among his 
 friends. When his time came, in 1793, he was 
 still in possession of receiverships, comptroller- 
 ships and other sinecures which were the privilege 
 of the fortunate in those comfortable days, worth 
 altogether 2500 a year, and left a considerable 
 fortune to be divided among his two sons and 
 daughter. George's share was 30,000, which, 
 however, he w r as not allowed to handle until he 
 attained his twentieth year. 
 
 There was thus no mystery about the origin of 
 Beau Brummell ; the history of his family, indeed, 
 was to be read, and may perhaps still be read, 
 on their gravestones in the churchyards of St. 
 James's and St. Martin's-in-the-Fields. ,To do 
 the Beau justice, he never made any secret about 
 it. In his later years he used to swear "by the 
 graves of my humble ancestors lying in their 
 parish churchyards"; even in the days of his 
 prosperity he had no delicacy in alluding to the 
 unfashionable status of his forebears. He was 
 once asked of his father and mother. " Dead 
 years ago," was the reply, " the poor old creatures 
 both cut their own throats eating peas with a 
 knife." 
 
 Young Brummell went early to Eton, where he 
 seems to have been generally liked. When only 
 a few years later he was established in London 
 as a social autocrat, many men of his own age 
 
 258
 
 THE INCOMPARABLE BRUMMELL 
 
 recalled the good-natured school-boy, popular 
 with his masters, his dame and his school-fellows. 
 Dr. Goodall and his own tutor Hawtree both 
 petted him. He was remarkable for good humour, 
 ready wit, and a love of fun, as well as for neat- 
 ness in dress and a gentleman-like demeanour. 
 He was the leading spirit in a serenade under the 
 window of a daughter of one of the masters, the 
 music of which consisted of a French horn, a 
 triangle and a hurdy-gurdy. His chief school 
 friends were Lord Lake, George Leigh, Jack 
 Musters and Berkeley Craven. " A clever, frank 
 boy, not in the least conceited," was the report 
 of his fag-master in later years. " I knew him 
 well, sir," said another school-fellow, "he was 
 never flogged, and a man, sir, is not worth a damn 
 who is never flogged at school." There were 
 indications, none the less, of his future eminence 
 as a man of fashion. It was early noticed that he 
 avoided the muddy streets on rainy days, and was 
 particularly careful in his dress. There i a tradi- 
 tion of young " Buck Brummell," as he came to 
 be called at Eton, in a white stock with a gold 
 buckle on the back of the neck, which seems pro- 
 phetic of some of the later glories of Chesterfield 
 Street. His mental attitude towards the rougher 
 aspect of the world also seems to have attained 
 a certain refinement, if one may judge by a story 
 of those schooldays. There was a row in the 
 town between a band of the schoolboys and some 
 
 R2 259
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 young bargees, in which one of the latter remained 
 as prisoner of war. A court-martial decided that 
 he should be thrown over Windsor Bridge into 
 the Thames, but Brummell interfered. : 'The 
 fellow," he said, "is in such a high state of per- 
 spiration that he will certainly catch cold." 
 
 Brummell went from Eton to Oxford, where 
 at Oriel he was less popular. He seems to have 
 dropped his simplicity, and was soon accused of 
 being a tuft-hunter. He cut one old Eton ac- 
 quaintance because he found him at an inferior 
 college ; another of his own, because he asked him 
 to meet some young man whom he did not consider 
 of sufficient social importance. Thus early did 
 Brummell adopt those pretensions which later 
 stood him in such good stead. He still kept a 
 reputation for wit, and was the supposed author 
 of half the squibs written during his time, but 
 he did no work and entered for the Newdigate, for 
 which he was second, simply because his friends 
 declared that he .was incapable of any serious 
 effort. But little is really known of Brummell at 
 Oxford, where, to be sure, he remained for less 
 than twelve months, and that little is preserved 
 in Lister's Granby, which, however, was accepted 
 at the time as authentic. If that be the fact, his 
 short career at Oriel would appear to have been 
 characterized by what to-day might be called 
 swagger, tempered with a certain amount of 
 humour. He would ostentatiously order his horse 
 
 260
 
 THE INCOMPARABLE BRUMMELL 
 
 at hall-time, but there was a certain humorous 
 quality about a prank of his when he turned a 
 tame jackdaw into the quad, which walked and 
 pecked solemnly over the grass with a pair of 
 white bands round its neck, and reminded all who 
 saw it of BrummeH's tutor. 
 
 There are many different accounts of his intro- 
 duction to the Prince of Wales. Brummell him- 
 self used to say that he was presented to his 
 Royal Highness on the terrace at Windsor Castle 
 while at Eton, and that the Prince, hearing later 
 of his reputation for wit and great social gifts, 
 renewed the acquaintance in London, and was 
 so pleased with the boy's bearing that he pre- 
 sented him with his commission in the Tenth 
 Hussars. Another account places the first meet- 
 ing at a little dairy in the Green Park, where it 
 was the fashion of that day to call and drink 
 syllabubs made from the milk of the red cows 
 which grazed in the park. The keeping of these 
 cows was a privilege bestowed by George the 
 Third upon two old ladies, sisters, named Searle, 
 who were aunts of the Beau, and were accustomed 
 to dispense their syllabubs to the quality in a 
 rustic lodge which stood in the park opposite 
 Clarges Street. Here was Brummell one morn- 
 ing when the Prince happened to call with the 
 Marchioness of Salisbury, and, being pleased 
 with the self-possession of the youth, presented 
 him with his pair of colours in the Tenth as a 
 
 261
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 token of his Royal Highness's approbation and 
 regard. The manner of the first meeting of these 
 two potentates, however, is not of great import- 
 ance. What is certain is that Brummell joined 
 the Tenth on the roth of June 1794, under the 
 auspices of the Prince, and as an accepted dis- 
 ciple of that great master of deportment, Brum- 
 mell being sixteen at the time and the Prince 
 thirty-two. It is equally certain that before ten 
 years were out there was no place for two such 
 stars of fashion in the same firmament. 
 
 Brummell, as might be expected, took his mili- 
 tary duties very lightly, and his immediate in- 
 timacy with the Prince which followed the com- 
 mission, provided a reason, if not an excuse, for 
 a general slackness of duty and a frequent late- 
 ness on parade. His regiment was always quar- 
 tered either in London or at Brighton, and the 
 attractions of Carlton House or the Pavilion, and 
 the august nature of the commands which took 
 him to one or other of those palaces at frequent 
 intervals, were perhaps taken into account by his 
 superior officers, and saved him from the repri- 
 mand and discipline which were assuredly the 
 lot of less highly favoured subalterns. In any 
 case it was said that the boy did not know his own 
 troop, with the single exception of a front-rank 
 man with a blue nose, by whom he steered when 
 late on parade, and who in consequence came to be 
 pleasantly known as the Beau's Beacon. It is 
 
 262
 
 George Bryan Brummell
 
 THE INCOMPARABLE BRUMMELL 
 
 recorded, too, that the Beau was always prepared 
 with an excuse of such wit that it was quite im- 
 possible for the colonel to be severe with so 
 pleasant and amiable a fellow. He was certainly 
 very popular with the officers of his regiment; 
 Lord Petersham, Lord R. Somerset, Mr. Bligh, 
 Mr. Lumley, Lord Charles Kerr, Lord Charles 
 and Lord Robert Manners, and other highly-born 
 youth, were his comrades in the Tenth, and among 
 these generous spirits, with the Prince at their 
 head, the Treasury clerk's son took his place as 
 an equal, and formed friendships which enabled 
 him to aspire to their leadership in matters of 
 fashion a few years later. Brummell had as yet 
 hardly succeeded to his patrimony, but several 
 stories of the period indicate that he was already 
 leading the life of the affluent gentleman. 
 " Hallo, George," said one of his friends who 
 saw him changing horses at a posthouse between 
 London and Brighton, "when did you begin to 
 travel with a chaise and four? " " Only when my 
 valet gave me warning for making him travel with 
 a pair," was the reply. 
 
 The Beau, his military deficiencies notwith- 
 standing, got his captaincy in 1796, and there 
 was a general surprise and a good deal of anim- 
 adversion when, early in the year 1798, he sud- 
 denly announced his determination of leaving the 
 regiment. Many reasons were given for the step ; 
 his enemies said that the prospect of hard knocks 
 
 263
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 abroad was a sufficient reason for the Beau ; more 
 charitable people urged the necessity of wearing 
 hair-powder in the regiment, and the Beau's 
 known objection to that messy fashion as a suffi- 
 cient excuse for so exquisite a creature. Hair 
 powder, indeed, was one of the burning questions 
 of the day when Mr. Pitt put a tax upon it, and 
 there was a famous occasion at Woburn when 
 the Duke of Bedford, Lord Jersey, Lord Angle- 
 sey, and other austere Whigs, all met at a solemn 
 function and had their hair cropped as a protest 
 against the iniquity of the Chancellor of the Ex- 
 chequer. So why should not Mr. Brummell have 
 conscientious views upon so great a question? 
 Others, again, said that as the Tenth was ordered 
 to Manchester, no one could reasonably expect 
 the peerless Brummell to bury himself in that 
 remote and dismal city. It is probable that Brum- 
 mell, with his possession of the little fortune in 
 view that very year, had already determined to 
 emancipate himself from all military restraint, 
 light even as that was in the Tenth Hussars, and 
 devote himself exclusively to a life of pleasure. 
 It is quite certain that he asked the Prince's per- 
 mission before sending in his papers, and that 
 he urged the banishment to Manchester as a 
 reason for his request in a very courtier-like 
 manner. "You know, Sir," he said, "that would 
 separate me from your Royal Highness." In 
 any case, Brummell sold out, came into his 
 
 264
 
 THE INCOMPARABLE BRUMMELL 
 
 ^30,000, and entered upon his real career, that 
 of a man of fashion, at a small house in Mayfair, 
 No. 4, Chesterfield Street. 
 
 Brummell began this life in a quite modest 
 way, and without those ridiculous extravagances 
 which distinguished his later career. He had a 
 good cook, a superb' valet, a couple of hacks for 
 the Park, and a sedan chair for his evening ex- 
 cursions to dinner, the play, or the opera. He 
 gave dinners now and then, with good cookery 
 and choice wines, but his house and establish- 
 ment were so small, and his visits to other people's 
 festivities so frequent, that his own entertainments 
 were the cause of no ruinous expenditure. At 
 this stage he did not gamble or attend race meet- 
 ings, and drank very much less than the majority 
 of his contemporaries. The Prince's countenance 
 had given him an unassailable social position, his 
 friends were those who were accustomed to dis- 
 pense hospitalities rather than receive them, and 
 there is no doubt that had he chosen, Brummell 
 might have lived comfortably within his income 
 without forfeiting any of the social privileges 
 which he enjoyed from the first. As it was, this 
 boy's house in Mayfair became a sort of shrine 
 of male fashion, and before he had been there a 
 year, he was accepted without question as arbiter 
 elegantiarum for the whole town. 
 
 The ease with which the Beau assumed that 
 position was astonishing in all the circumstances, 
 
 265
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 and seems to justify our regarding him as a social 
 phenomenon. It would have been impossible, of 
 course, without the Prince's patronage, though 
 that in itself was not sufficient. There were other 
 young men about town who shared that great 
 privilege without attaining any great social emi- 
 nence ; it was, indeed, a distinct drag upon some 
 of them who belonged to a well-defined set. 
 Neither is BrummeH's acknowledged taste in dress 
 a sufficient explanation of his amazing success as 
 a leader of fashion, though by all accounts this 
 was really elegant; Lord Byron described it as 
 " an exquisite propriety." It was due rather, one 
 is inclined to think, to those two factors, combined 
 with a perfect self-possession and social aplomb, 
 a real good-humour and good nature which at 
 first made the Beau a universal favourite. Brum- 
 mell's undoubted insolence, his unfeeling rude- 
 ness to women, and his indecent attitude towards 
 the Prince all came later, when his head had been 
 turned by flattery, and his judgment and sense of 
 proportion destroyed by success. 
 
 That success, intrinsically so petty, but to the 
 small and exclusive world in which he moved so 
 important, is perfectly amazing. One need not 
 accept literally all the amusing stories which have 
 clustered about Brummell's name to be convinced 
 of it; the whole story is set out soberly in the 
 memoirs and diaries of his contemporaries, men 
 like Raikes and Berkeley Craven, who were his 
 
 266
 
 THE INCOMPARABLE BRUMMELL 
 
 intimate friends, and others, like Gronow, who 
 hung about the fringe of his acquaintance and 
 sighed vainly for a position nearer the centre. 
 His receptions in Chesterfield Street recalled the 
 levees of the great nobles of former days, there 
 was many a function, indeed, at Carlton House in 
 that day where the company was less exclusive. 
 Men like Prince Esterhazy, Lord Yarmouth, 
 Lord Cholmondeley, Lord Fife, Lord Wilton 
 and Lord Petersham would wait together in his 
 anteroom until the Beau had done with La 
 Fleur, the friseur, and come radiant from the 
 hands of that artist to receive them. It was an 
 understood part of the ritual to present Watson, 
 the Beau's inestimable servant, with a seven-shil- 
 ling gold piece upon calling ; what that important 
 individual extracted from the tradesmen who 
 thronged to Chesterfield Street is not known, but 
 it must have made up a very comfortable income. 
 So soon as the Beau had attaineH his prime, there 
 was no person of taste in his circle who would 
 give a tradesman an order without consulting him. 
 Lord Wilton would order plate from Hamlet, the 
 silversmith in St. Martin's Court, or Lady Jersey 
 diamonds, and the articles must be taken to Ches- 
 terfield Street and receive Mr. Brummell's ap- 
 proval before they could be accepted by Mr. 
 Hamlet's patrons; a wine cooler for the Duke of 
 York must pass the same ordeal, and Lord Peter- 
 sham's dressing-case. Lady Hertford would give 
 
 267
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 a grand fete, and her major-domo must consult 
 the great Mr. Brummell as to all details before a 
 finger could be moved in the matter. It is even 
 said that most of the undoubtedly fine pictures 
 with which the Prince enriched the royal collec- 
 tion were only accepted from the dealers after 
 having received the Beau's approbation; though 
 where he acquired a taste in the fine arts at the 
 age of five-and-twenty is difficult to discover, with 
 his record before us. His little house was filled 
 weekly with the offerings of his friends ; dressing- 
 cases, easy-chairs, lap-dogs, wine, gloves, snuff, 
 and china, as well as with the humbler oblations 
 of game, fish and venison. All these he would 
 sort over, reserve a very few for his own use, 
 others as presents for friends, and send the rest 
 back to the tradesmen who supplied them, who 
 made a due allowance for them in the Beau's 
 account. 
 
 Of Brummell's taste in the important matter of 
 dress there is, as we say, no doubt. It is entirely 
 wrong to think of the Beau as a fop in appear- 
 ance; though he took infinite pains in the choice 
 of his tailors, the details of his toilette, the 
 material and cut of his clothes, and the method 
 of putting them on. But that care was only appar- 
 ent in the propriety and neatness of the result, 
 and the mode which he initiated was without any 
 of the extravagances of former dandies, like the 
 Macaronies of the preceding generation, or those 
 
 268
 
 THE INCOMPARABLE BRUMMELL 
 
 exquisites of Plantagenet times whose eccentricities 
 called for sumptuary laws. Brummell's aphorism 
 on the subject of masculine attire, that "a well- 
 dressed gentleman ought to wear nothing which 
 would attract particular attention in the street," 
 is in force to this day, and there is nothing at all 
 extravagant about his formula, " No scent, plenty 
 of linen, and country washing." Brummell, in- 
 deed, took the elements of men's dress as he 
 found them, and brought each to perfection in a 
 harmonious combination. Masculine dress had 
 recently undergone a profound transformation as 
 a result of the French Revolution. The pictur- 
 esque long coat, embroidered waistcoat, knee 
 breeches and small sword, with laced ruffles, wig 
 or powdered hair and three-cornered hat, had 
 been exchanged for pantaloons, cut-away coat, 
 short waistcoat, or breeches and top boots, accord- 
 ing to the pursuits of the gentleman who wore 
 them. The Whig gentleman in the House of 
 Commons ostentatiously adopted the rather 
 bucolic dress of the smaller country squire, the 
 blue coat, buff waistcoat, breeches and top boots 
 of the typical John Bull, indeed, as a kind of 
 symbol of their sympathy with popular ideas, and 
 Whigs of the rank of the Duke of Norfolk and of 
 the political eminence of Charles Fox affected a 
 studied negligence in their dress. Brummell took 
 the quieter elements of the same attire, light 
 pantaloons, fancy waistcoat, and well-cut, tight- 
 
 269
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 fitting coat, and, with the help of the eminent 
 tailors, made of their harmonious arrangement a 
 fine art. 
 
 His one innovation was the white cravat, and 
 upon this he lavished his genius. He had a 
 theory, which he imparted to his intimates, that a 
 cravat could only be properly tied by a sudden 
 inspiration, and that if that inspiration failed it 
 was necessary to begin over again. Such serious 
 views on this mighty question doubtless explained 
 the appearance of Mr. Watson on the staircase 
 with an armful of white cravats, and his remark 
 to a favoured guest, " Some of our failures." To 
 another inquiring into the mysteries of the cult 
 Brummell whispered the mystic word " Starch." 
 The famous neckwear, it appears, consisted of 
 many feet of fine linen, stiffened to the exact de- 
 gree which would allow of three parts of its length 
 to be held up without collapsing. Having at- 
 tained this fine temper, it was ready for Mr. Brum- 
 mell's throat, and the central rite of the toilette 
 began. As each fold encircled his neck, there 
 was a solemn bending down of the Beau's chin in 
 order that it should take a natural crease, this 
 being repeated until the whole presented an 
 aspect acceptable to his fastidious taste, when it 
 was secured by a gold brooch, and the ritual was 
 at an end. A few, very few, of his friends were 
 admitted to the privilege of these mysteries; the 
 Prince, of course, came when he chose, which 
 
 270
 
 THE INCOMPARABLE BRUMMELL 
 
 was often. He would honour the Beau by watch- 
 ing him by the hour at his dressing-table, send 
 his carriage away, and, taking pot luck with Brum- 
 mell at dinner, end up by making a night of it. 
 
 It was, then, the Beau's intimacy with that 
 highly placed personage in the first place, and his 
 undoubted elegance in dress, aided by natural 
 good parts, amiability and social qualities which 
 included a keen sense of humour and readiness 
 of reply, that gave him his vogue. Later he sup- 
 ported pretensions to which neither birth nor for- 
 tune entitled him by less admirable qualities, 
 unfeeling rudeness, unblushing impudence, arro- 
 gant insolence. ,The Beau, indeed, made no 
 secret of the great part played by his impudence 
 in his success. " It is folly that is the making of 
 me," he once admitted, " if I did not impudently 
 stare duchesses out of countenance, and nod 
 over my shoulder to a prince, I should be for- 
 gotten in a week." But nothing in the World 
 could excuse some of the incidents of his later 
 career in London; his atrocious allusion to Mrs. 
 Fitzherbert's position, for example, or the attitude 
 he eventually adopted towards the Prince Regent, 
 who, when all is said, was still Brummeirs 
 sovereign, to whom, moreover, he owed a great 
 part of what social eminence he possessed. 
 
 Brummeirs reign may be divided into two dis- 
 tinct periods that from 1798, when he left the 
 Tenth Hussars, up to about 1804, during which 
 
 271
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 he shared his social throne with the Prince; and 
 a later period of about twelve years, ending in 
 1816, during which he reigned alone. There is 
 no reason to believe that Brummell shared the 
 grosser orgies of Carlton House or the Pavilion 
 with the Regent; he was, of course, often with 
 the Prince, and appeared with him almost daily 
 in the Park or St. James's Street, but he visited 
 also many houses whose owners had no part or 
 lot with the set which surrounded the Prince, 
 and for whose ladies such a society was absolutely 
 impossible. Brummeirs tastes alone would keep 
 him from any greater share in the carousals of the 
 Lades, Hangers, Macmahons and Morrisses than 
 was necessary to maintain his footing with the 
 Prince; there are stories, indeed, which point 
 directly to that fact, and to his independence and 
 determination to resist any compulsion in such 
 matters. The Prince once filled glasses with neat 
 brandy, and passed one to the Beau. " Excuse 
 me, Sir," said Brummell, "but I don't drink 
 spirits." " Nonsense," was the reply, "we are all 
 going to take some." "Are you, Sir; I'm very 
 sorry to hear it, and I am not." So the Beau sat 
 over his wine unmoved, and watched the rest of 
 the company under the table. 
 
 Brummell, indeed, up to a point, undoubtedly 
 exercised a good influence. He was accepted 
 from the first by the most honoured names in 
 English society; the Dukes of Rutland, Bed- 
 
 272
 
 THE INCOMPARABLE BRUMMELL 
 
 ford, Beaufort were his intimate friends; he was 
 on cordial terms of friendship with Georgiana 
 Duchess of Devonshire ; Chatsworth, Woburn and 
 Belvoir were among the great country houses 
 which were open to him at all times. At Woburn 
 and Belvoir, indeed, special rooms were kept for 
 this great young man's occupation, and other 
 guests occupying them must turn out when Mr. 
 Brummell announced his intention of paying a 
 visit. The Duke of Argyll, the Earl of Fife, 
 Lord Willoughby d'Eresby, Lord Delamere, 
 Lord Hertford and his son Lord Yarmouth, Mr. 
 Pitt's brother, Lord Chatham, Lord Petersham, 
 the heir of the Stanhopes, and men like General 
 Grosvenor, Sir W. Watkin Wynn, and Mr. Daw- 
 son Darner were all among his earlier intimates 
 of whose hospitalities he partook when it pleased 
 him, and whose great social influence he shared. 
 
 Brummell was altogether opposed to the cult of 
 the stables and the prize-ring w r hich was affected 
 by a number of well-born young men at this 
 period, men who drove their own vehicles, dressed 
 like their grooms, and sought to emulate the pro- 
 fessional coachman by many extraordinary antics. 
 Some of these gentlemen, it is said, had their teeth 
 filed in order the better to expectorate in the 
 manner approved by the drivers of stage coaches. 
 Against this tendency among men of fashion 
 Brummell resolutely set his face. He made great 
 fun of the country gentlemen who assembled in
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 force at Boodle's, whose boots, he said, smelt of 
 bad blacking and the stables, and he undoubtedly 
 checked a movement among men of birth which 
 was quite new in such company, and threatened 
 to assume large proportions. The Beau, as a fact, 
 was no sportsman. He hated exertion of any sort, 
 and never formed one of a shooting party if he 
 could avoid it; he disliked the battue, he said. 
 He hunted in a tepid fashion, it is true, and was 
 on such terms with the Duke of Rutland, that he 
 was allowed to keep a stud of hunters at Belvoir. 
 But he generally confined his hunting to an ap- 
 pearance at the meet, and to riding over a field or 
 two, when he would return to the castle, and write 
 verses in the Duchess's album, or make some of 
 the pretty little water-colour drawings for which 
 he was famous. There are stray records of the 
 Beau at Belvoir scattered about the letters and 
 memoirs of his time; the poet Crabbe met him 
 there, and was favourably impressed with the great 
 man. " I was particularly pleased and amused," 
 he wrote, " with the conversation of the celebrated 
 Beau Brummell." Some tuneful foxhunter, also, 
 left an impression of the Beau's horsemanship as 
 it appeared to the hunting men of the Belvoir 
 country. 
 
 "Beau Brummell, God bless us, how ventures he here, 
 Delighting our eyes and our noses ; 
 He splashes through ditches in kerseymere breeches, 
 And streaming with attar of roses." 
 274
 
 THE INCOMPARABLE BRUMMELL 
 
 Thomas Raikes, who was at Eton with Brum- 
 mell, and knew him well in later life, and himself 
 a notable dandy and man about town, has in his 
 Diary left a not unattractive picture of the Beau 
 during this early part of his career, the period 
 before he was spoiled, and before he developed 
 those faults of taste and feeling at which we have 
 already hinted. 
 
 " He was in his time the very glass of fashion, 
 every one from the highest to the lowest conspired 
 to spoil him, but who that knew him could deny 
 that he was still the most gentlemanlike, the most 
 agreeable of companions? Never was a man 
 who during his career had such an undoubted in- 
 fluence, such general popularity in society. He 
 was the idol of the women; happy was she in 
 whose opera box he would pass an hour, at whose 
 table he would dine, and whose assembly he would 
 honour, and why? Not only because he was a 
 host of amusement in himself with his jokes and 
 jeers, but because he was such a favourite with the 
 men that alf were anxious to join the party. In 
 those days, too, it was considered necessary that 
 a well-bred man should still have some little tinc- 
 ture of the old school, and this Brummell pos- 
 sessed. He was liberal, friendly, serviceable 
 without any shuffling or tortuous policy or mean- 
 ness, or manoeuvring for underhand objects; him- 
 self of no rank or family, but living always with 
 the highest and noblest in the country on terms of 
 intimacy and familiarity, on the contrary, courted, 
 applauded and imitated, protecting rather than 
 protected, and exercising an influence, a fascina- 
 S2 275
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 tion in society which no one felt a wish to 
 resist." 
 
 This eulogy of Mr. Raikes presents the Beau 
 in an amiable light, and as occupying a very envi- 
 able position. It also gives pause to any critic 
 of Brummell who, remembering his later faults 
 and excesses, would be inclined to estimate the 
 man himself as an impudent parvenu, and his 
 influence as the cult of a coat and a neckcloth at 
 the best. It is quite obvious that to have been 
 able to choose his friends from among the great 
 families we have mentioned, and to assume the 
 position among them that he did, the Beau must 
 have been possessed of many good qualities, and 
 have tempered his wit and self-assurance with 
 kindliness and moderation. It is certain that the 
 proud society of that day would have accepted 
 no impudent pretender as their leader in all the 
 graces and refinements of life. How came it, then, 
 that a man who had attained in early life a position 
 which a man of whatever rank and fortune might 
 be loth to forfeit, came to be remembered as the 
 prince of fribbles and loungers, and the broken 
 spendthrift, unstable in money matters, who lived 
 for years on the friends whose kindness he abused, 
 to die at last in a French hospital? 
 
 The answer to that question, like that other 
 concerning his rise, involves the consideration of 
 more than a single cause. Primarily, of course, 
 
 276
 
 THE INCOMPARABLE BRUMMELL 
 
 the Beau's downfall was owing to a constitutional 
 lack of balance, which rendered him, like many 
 another man of greater parts, incapable of bearing 
 prosperity. Another contributing cause was his 
 reckless extravagance. It is difficult, indeed, even 
 to guess at the mental attitude of men of his class 
 towards such commonplace matters as questions of 
 ways and means ; so it is useless to speculate upon 
 his expectation of being able to provide for the 
 life he was leading with his small fortune of 
 30,000^ possibly he never gave the matter a 
 thought, and lived for the day only. Finally, the 
 Beau's doom was sealed and completed by the 
 revival in English society of more worthy ideals. 
 The peace which followed Waterloo gave time for 
 society to pause and estimate the claims of the 
 aspirants for its favour ; to weigh, indeed, the worth 
 of the man who had ruled the social roost in Lon- 
 don for twenty years, and that of the men who had 
 broken the power of the enemy in a score of hard- 
 fought battles, and by their success in keeping the 
 coast of England inviolate had alone enabled the 
 fribbles to strut and posture in St. James's Street. 
 Brummell's first downward step was taken when 
 he assumed an improper attitude towards his royal 
 patron the Prince Regent. The terms upon which 
 they had met at first were so intimate that it was 
 almost impossible that they could long continue, 
 especially when one of the pair was a man of such 
 known vanity and instability of character as 
 
 277
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 George Prince of Wales. Brummell, from all we 
 know of him from a hundred anecdotes, which, 
 true or false in detail, undoubtedly present a more 
 or less accurate portrait of the man, was ever reck- 
 less in speech when a laugh was to be raised or a 
 point made in conversation, and was possessed, 
 moreover, by a sort of mischievous impishness, 
 which, often harmless in itself, is a dangerous 
 accomplishment to practise in one's relations with 
 princes. The circumstances of the Regent's estab- 
 lishment also afforded many traps for the unwary, 
 especially for a man who made no particular effort 
 to conciliate any one, and whose independence of 
 bearing was apt to run into licence. Here was a 
 Prince with a wife in the unhappy Princess Caro- 
 line, a morganatic wife in Mrs. Fitzherbert (a lady, 
 however, who was generally respected and ac- 
 cepted in that relation by society and the royal 
 family itself), and a favourite in Lady Jersey in a 
 position at Carlton House which was perfectly 
 well understood. If ever there was a position in 
 which it behoved an intimate of this much-married 
 prince to move warily, it was that in which affairs 
 at the Prince's court grouped themselves during 
 the opening years of the nineteenth century. It 
 was, unhappily, of little moment how people com- 
 ported themselves towards the poor Princess of 
 Wales, but to choose between Mrs. Fitzherbert 
 and Lady Jersey was surely a fatal mistake, and 
 this act of folly Brummell committed when he 
 
 278
 
 THE INCOMPARABLE BRUMMELL 
 
 openly took Lady Jersey's side against Mrs. Fitz- 
 herbert. The national character of the suggestion 
 of some of his French biographers that he aspired 
 to be the rival of his royal master in the favours 
 of the countess rnay be dismissed as absurd, but 
 that he openly favoured her pretensions in the 
 royal menage, in opposition to those of Mrs. Fitz- 
 herbert, is certain, as is also the very natural con- 
 sequence of the last-named lady's resentment. 
 
 The first report of a rift in the lute of the rela- 
 tions between the Beau and his master is probably 
 only an echo of that resentment. In company 
 with his friend Colonel Dawson Dame^ Brum- 
 mell called upon Mrs. Fitzherbert, with whom 
 they found the Prince. Whether she had been 
 laying her grievances against Brummell before his 
 Royal Highness is, of course, unknown, but it 
 seems probable from the fact that both the Beau 
 and his friend noticed that the Prince was moody 
 and taciturn, and manifestly displeased at the 
 presence of the two dandies. His attitude, in fact, 
 became unmistakable when Brummell produced 
 his snuffbox, helped himself to a pinch, and laid 
 the box on a small table near his chair. ' The 
 place for your box, Mr. Brummell," remarked the 
 Prince, " is not on that table, but in your pocket." 
 Brummell took the remark quietly, but obviously 
 the relations between the great man and the 
 favourite were no longer on their old footing, for 
 the incident to be possible at all. But worse was 
 
 279
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 to follow, and again in connection with the indig- 
 nant Mrs. Fitzherbert. Mr. Charles Ellis gave a 
 party at Seafort in 1804, at which the Prince and 
 Mrs. Fitzherbert did him the honour of being 
 present. Brummell was also invited, and drove 
 up to the door unsuspicious of any trouble. He 
 had scarcely entered the house, however, when the 
 Prince came into the hall and, with much kindli- 
 ness of manner, informed the Beau that his pre- 
 sence would be offensive to Mrs. Fitzherbert, and 
 that the pleasure of the party would be destroyed 
 if Brummell sat down to dinner. The Beau 
 bowed, but said nothing, turned on his heel, 
 recalled his chaise, and drove back to town. 
 
 Had Brummell been content with a little less 
 display of wounded vanity, and accepted the 
 caprice of an angry woman as part of the day's 
 work, it is probable that, whatever his differences 
 with the Prince, these might have been composed, 
 or the parting at least might have taken place with 
 the blame on the shoulders of his royal patron 
 instead of his own. But that was not the Beau's 
 way. He took up the quarrel with the greatest 
 spirit, and although there was at first no open 
 breach with the Prince, that became inevitable 
 when he included his Royal Highness in the ven- 
 detta which he waged against Mrs. Fitzherbert, 
 and joined him with the lady as the object of the 
 raillery with which he now began to entertain the 
 town. 
 
 280
 
 THE INCOMPARABLE BRUMMELL 
 
 This took the very offensive form of overt allu- 
 sions to the growing tendency of both towards 
 corpulence. The Beau's pleasant manner of 
 alluding to this infirmity was characteristic. There 
 was at Carlton House a gigantic porter, so tall as 
 to be able to look over the gates, and of a prodigious 
 girth of waist, who was well known about the West 
 End of the town as Big Ben. Brummell, besides 
 making facetious remarks about the Prince's figure, 
 began habitually to speak of him as " Ben" to 
 third parties at clubs and elsewhere, and of Mrs. 
 Fitzherbert as " Benina." There are never want- 
 ing persons to report pleasantries of this nature 
 to the persons interested, and the Beau's funny 
 remarks were soon known at Carlton House, as 
 perhaps he intended. The Beau, indeed, was 
 remorseless in his warfare against Mrs. Fitz- 
 herbert, and the methods he employed were soon 
 the talk of the town, and one would think should 
 have ruined his reputation as a gentleman for ever. 
 Lady Jersey gave a ball at which the Prince, that 
 lady and Brummell were all present. The Beau 
 went out of his way to offer the lady his arm at the 
 end of the evening, and laid particular stress on 
 the word " mistress " in ordering " Mistress Fitz- 
 herbert's carriage " in a loud and distinct voice in 
 the hall filled with departing guests. Little won- 
 der that the Prince decided that the time had come 
 to part with a man so lacking in the very decencies 
 of social intercourse. There is reason to believe 
 
 281
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 that his Royal Highness then and there deter- 
 mined to dismiss him, and to choose the occasion 
 and the method of the leave-taking himself. 
 
 There are various accounts of the exact circum- 
 stances in which the great renunciation took place, 
 some of them not wanting in the kind of humour 
 one associates with Brummell and his set, all of 
 them sufficiently indecent considering the exalted 
 station of one of the parties. That popularly 
 accepted is certainly untrue. One version of this 
 story makes the Beau at Carlton House say to the 
 Prince, " George, ring the bell " ; the other makes 
 him reply to a similar request by the Prince, " It 
 is near your Royal Highness." Brummell always 
 denied this story altogether, and protested that no 
 quarrel could have taken place upon such a point, 
 because he and the Prince were on terms so inti- 
 mate that, in the absence of third parties, there 
 would have been nothing unusual in such a request 
 on his part. His version of the parting was that 
 he had been a successful rival of the Prince in a 
 love affair. 
 
 Here, again, it is a matter of the slightest im- 
 portance to determine the exact cause which 
 stretched the relations between the Prince and his 
 familiar to the breaking-point, and one may con- 
 clude the inquiry by recalling a story of the leave- 
 taking which, whether accurate or not, is quite 
 characteristic of both. The Beau was bidden to 
 a party of men only at Carlton House, and the 
 
 282
 
 THE INCOMPARABLE BRUMMELL 
 
 usual hard drinking began after the withdrawal of 
 the servants. Brummell had a place of honour 
 next the Prince. The Prince turned suddenly 
 towards his old favourite, and, without a word, 
 threw a glass of wine into his face. The Beau, 
 immediately recovering his self-possession, lifted 
 his own glass and flung its contents into the face 
 of his neighbour on the other side, with the words, 
 : 'The Prince's toast; pass it round." 
 
 The story is related upon the authority of a 
 gentleman who was often at Carlton House, and 
 would appear to be authentic; but, whatever the 
 exact circumstances of the rupture, it was com- 
 plete and final. Brummell accepted the situation 
 with the greatest cheerfulness, made no secret of 
 his loss of favour with the Regent, but, on the 
 contrary, professed to glory in it. It seems in- 
 credible, but appears to be quite true, that he had 
 the insolence to rally the Prince's own henchman 
 on the subject, and to defy his royal master. " I 
 made him what he is," he is said to have remarked 
 to Colonel Macmahon, "and I can unmake him." 
 Thomas Moore put the rumour into some amusing 
 verse when, in the Twopenny Postbag, he made 
 the Regent say to the Duke of York 
 
 "Nor have I resentments, nor wish there may come ill 
 To mortal, except, now I think on't, Beau Brummell, 
 Who threatened last year, in a superfine passion 
 To cut me, and bring the old king into fashion." 
 
 Certainly Brummell made no effort to avoid 
 283
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 the Prince in public, and London for years was 
 enlivened by a series of rencontres between the 
 pair. In most of these Brummell exhibited an 
 insolence which is perfectly amazing. In the 
 most famous of them he was walking down St. 
 James's Street with Lord Alvanley, when he met 
 the Prince attended by Lord Moira. His Royal 
 Highness stopped to speak to Lord Alvanley 
 without taking the slightest notice of the Beau, 
 and was turning to pass on, when Brummell said, 
 in a perfectly distinct and nonchalant tone, 
 " Alvanley, who's your fat friend ? " In a crowd 
 coming out of the opera, Brummell was unwit- 
 tingly driven almost against the Regent, who, of 
 course, could not give way. To call his attention, 
 some one tapped the Beau on the shoulder. He 
 turned, found the Prince's nose within a foot of 
 his own, stared him full in the face, and coolly 
 turned away without a bow or the slightest change 
 of countenance. But perhaps BrummeH's most 
 impudent exhibition towards his former patron 
 took place on the steps of a picture gallery in 
 Pall Mall. The Prince was expected at the 
 exhibition, and sentries had been placed at the 
 doors. Brummell timed his own visit exactly with 
 that of his Royal Highness, walked up the steps 
 immediately in front of him, and acknowledged 
 the salute of the sentries as if for himself. 
 
 It was said that, after a time, the Prince was 
 prepared to let by-gones be by-gones; the thing 
 
 284
 
 THE INCOMPARABLE BRUMMELL 
 
 seems improbable, but, as the rumour sprang from 
 a remark of the Regent himself, it must be 
 recorded and accepted in all good faith. There 
 was a prodigious crowd of people at the Argyll 
 Rooms upon the occasion of what was known as 
 the Dandy Ball, an entertainment given by a 
 section of that fraternity to celebrate the good for- 
 tune of some of them at the hazard-table. People 
 went early to this festivity because it was known 
 that the Regent would be present, and, in some 
 sense, as a guest of the Beau. Brummell was 
 one of the four stewards in whose names the invi- 
 tations had been issued, his comrades being Sir H. 
 Mildmay, Mr. Pierrepont and Lord Alvanley. 
 Sir H. Mildmay was also out of favour at Carlton 
 House, and there had been much discussion 
 among the Dandies as to whether or not the Prince 
 should be approached and asked to honour the 
 ball with his presence. Brummell was opposed 
 to that course, but gave way to the wishes of his 
 companions, and Mr. Pierrepont was deputed to 
 sound the royal potentate. The Prince expressed 
 his wish to be present, and, considering the terms 
 upon which he was with two of his hosts, his action 
 may, perhaps, be considered as an overture of 
 peace. In any case, society was vastly interested 
 to witness the meeting. When the Regent ap- 
 peared and was received by the stewards, he made 
 one of his stately bows to Lord Alvanley and Mr. 
 Pierrepont, and shook each cordially by the hand. 
 
 285
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 But of Brummell and Sir H. Mildmay he took no 
 notice whatever, nor would he even appear to 
 know they were present. Brummell, perhaps 
 naturally, resented this public slight, and when the 
 Regent retired would not attend him to his car- 
 riage. This the Prince did not fail to note, and, 
 speaking of the circumstances next day, he said, 
 " Had Brummell taken the cut I gave him good- 
 naturedly, I would have renewed my intimacy 
 with him." This, however, he never did. 
 
 There was one more meeting, in circumstances 
 which would be incredible were they not authen- 
 ticated beyond doubt by a witness of absolute 
 reliability who was present, the well-known soldier 
 General Sir Arthur Upton. It must be confessed 
 that in this long strife of rancour and insult the 
 Prince at last got even with his mutinous favourite, 
 but surely at a grievous cost to his reputation as a 
 man of feeling. Brummell, who had taken to 
 gaming after the quarrel, had met with extraordi- 
 nary luck, and the town was ringing with the 
 account of his leaving White's a winner of 20,000 
 at a single sitting. The Duke of York reported 
 the fact to the Prince, who immediately resolved 
 to have his revenge upon the Beau for a score of 
 passages of arms in which the last may be said 
 to have had the best of it. Brummell accordingly 
 was again bidden to Carlton House, and, being 
 very elated at his good fortune, and expecting it 
 to be the occasion of congratulations and recon- 
 
 286
 
 THE INCOMPARABLE BRUMMELL 
 
 ciliation, fell readily into the trap. He was re- 
 ceived with all apparent kindness by the Prince, 
 and the dinner promised to pass off prosperously 
 enough. The Beau was delighted at his recep- 
 tion, and, it is said, drank a little more wine than 
 was customary with him, and was hilarious a little 
 beyond his wont. The Prince suddenly turned 
 to his brother, the Duke of York, and remarked, 
 " I think we had better order Mr. Brummell's 
 carriage before he gets drunk," and the poor Beau 
 at last left his master's presence for ever. 
 
 Brummell none the less contrived to maintain 
 his position in the world of fashion, and it was not 
 the withdrawal of the Prince of Wales's favour 
 which led directly to his ruin, though, no doubt, 
 that had its share in the disaster. But there were 
 many years of apparent prosperity in store for the 
 Beau, years in which he reigned by himself in 
 lonely splendour. The lighter records of those 
 twelve years which ended at Waterloo are full of 
 the figure of Brummell, of his elegance, his auto- 
 cratic rule, his insolence. The fashionable clubs, 
 the great functions at the Opera House, those 
 awful and solemn rites at Almack's, for participa- 
 tion in which people of acknowledged position 
 struggled and intrigued, often unsuccessfully, for 
 years, all are pervaded by this personality of the 
 Treasury clerk's son. People at the opera first 
 looked about the house to discover that peerless 
 figure. " How well got up is Brummell to-night ! " 
 
 287
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 was the conventional remark proper to the occa- 
 sion when the paragon was seen in his glory in 
 Fop's Alley. At Almack's duchesses would point 
 him out to their daughters during their first season 
 as the great Mr. Brummell, whose approbation it 
 was important to obtain by care in conversation, 
 if they were so lucky as to have the honour of 
 dancing with him. He abated none of his preten- 
 sions after his quarrel with the Prince, and re- 
 ceived the same homage as before. The beau- 
 teous leaders of the feminine society of that day, 
 whose charm is preserved for us in so many of the 
 canvases of Lawrence, were still devoted to him, 
 and another of those trivial incidents, of which, 
 indeed, the Beau's life and history are composed, 
 is related of his meeting with one of them at this 
 time. He rode up to the carriage of a lady of his 
 acquaintance in the Park in order to present her 
 with a stick of perfume, a concoction of his own, 
 but on condition only that she should give none of 
 it to the Regent, who, he said, was " dying to get 
 hold of it." 
 
 In one way Brummell was more fortunate than 
 he deserved. Notwithstanding his rupture with 
 the Prince, the Beau never lost the friendship of 
 the Duke of York, who, indeed, was never known 
 to desert a friend, and he was a favourite, also, 
 with the Duchess, that gentle Princess Royal of 
 Prussia, who was beloved by everybody, of what- 
 ever station, who ever had the privilege of meeting 
 
 288
 
 His ROYAL HIGHNESS GEORGE PHINCE OF 
 
 Primai-ius Fictor >Sereiiilsinu \Vtlliar IHiicipn dclin-el Excu'
 
 THE INCOMPARABLE BRUMMELL 
 
 her. It was said that the Duchess was grateful 
 to Brummell for the improvement he wrought in the 
 manners of the men's society which she found in 
 England when she came over as a young bride in 
 1791, the drinking, roystering set of roues with 
 which even royalty was surrounded in those days, 
 who gloried in their excesses, and whose want of 
 courtesy and of refinement in the presence of 
 ladies filled the young Princess with horror. 
 
 At Oaklands, accordingly, the Duchess of York 
 held her little court, the only court, indeed, of 
 those barren years, when the poor afflicted King 
 George the Third was a recluse at Windsor, and 
 the irregular proceedings at Carlton House were 
 impossible to any but a particular few. Oaklands 
 was described by those who took part in its hos- 
 pitalities as the last retreat of correct manners and 
 high breeding, where "affability on the one side 
 and respectful attention on the other were equally 
 remarkable." Let it be counted for righteousness 
 to the Beau, of whom so much folly is recorded, 
 that he was an honoured guest in that society, and 
 a favourite of the royal lady who presided over 
 it. He it was who was the central figure of the 
 parties whose chaises assembled at five o'clock at 
 White's on Saturday afternoons, Lord Alvanley, 
 Lord Hertford, Lord Worcester, Lord Foley, Sir 
 H. Cooke, General Upton, and the rest, often in 
 such numbers that post-horses ran short on the 
 road to Oaklands. 
 
 T 289
 
 There was, however, another side to BrummeH's 
 deportment at this time of his career; he was civil 
 enough, no doubt, to the company he met at Oak- 
 lands, at the fashionable clubs, and elsewhere ; but 
 his insolence to people of less consideration was 
 a by-word, and most of the stories in which it is 
 preserved centre upon this period. No doubt the 
 Beau was a privileged jester with his tongue con- 
 tinually in his cheek, and atrocious rudeness was 
 accepted from him which would assuredly have 
 led to personal chastisement in another. It is not 
 necessary to accept all these stories literally; no 
 doubt, as in the case of other exquisites, from 
 Chesterfield onwards, any particularly impudent 
 sally was fathered upon him, just as those of a 
 humorous and kindly nature were attributed to 
 Lord Alvanley. But many of them are authenti- 
 cated, and, taken together, they undoubtedly 
 present a true picture of his bearing towards all 
 but a few score people of position to whom it was 
 his interest to be civil. It is really a matter of 
 wonder that the Beau went through life with a 
 whole skin. Long before their final rupture, the 
 Regent had been seriously angered by BrummeH's 
 behaviour to the Bishop of Winchester, whom he 
 had met at the Pavilion at Brighton. The Beau 
 had helped himself to a pinch of snuff, and had 
 laid his box on the table. The bishop took a 
 pinch unasked, when Brummell called a servant 
 and ordered him to empty the box into the fire. 
 
 290
 
 THE INCOMPARABLE BRUMMELL 
 
 At the table of a country gentleman in Hampshire, 
 in whose house he was dining, he volunteered his 
 opinion of his host's champagne by calling to the 
 servant, "John, bring me some more of that 
 cider." He insulted a better man than himself at 
 Brooks's, Alderman Whitbread, the brewer, where, 
 however, he met his match. The Beau strolled 
 into the club and found a game of hazard going 
 on, and when the box came to his turn he said to 
 Mr. Whitbread, "Hallo, Mashtub, what's the 
 stake ? " " Twenty-five pounds," replied that 
 gentleman. " Have at the mayor's pony," said 
 Brummell, " and seven's the main." He won the 
 cast, repeated his success twice, and so won 75. 
 As he pocketed the money, he thanked Mr. Whit- 
 bread, and assured him that in future he would 
 drink no one's porter but his. " I wish every other 
 blackguard in London would tell rne the same," 
 was the alderman's reply. "Who's that ugly 
 fellow by the fire-place? " he once asked of some 
 one at a great ball given by one of the law lords 
 at his house in Russell Square. " Surely you must 
 know," said the fellow-guest, " it is the master of 
 the house." "How should I know?" replied 
 Brummell; " I was not invited." Some gentleman 
 offered him a lift in his carriage to Lady Jersey's 
 ball. ; ' Thank you exceedingly," said Brummell ; 
 "but how are you to go? I could hardly expect 
 you to get up behind with the footman no, that 
 would not be proper ; but, on the other hand, you 
 T 2 291
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 would hardly expect to sit by me ? " Another 
 gentleman asked him to dine with him. " With all 
 my heart, my good fellow; but swear that you 
 won't breathe a word of it to anybody." To a 
 lady at Ascot, who was obviously pleased at his 
 speaking to her, he said, " Nobody sees us, so I'm 
 not risking my reputation." 
 
 Such are the stories which tradition tells of 
 Brummell, and which assuredly do not show that 
 amiability and continuing goodness of heart which 
 men like Raikes, who saw only the smooth side of 
 his character, have recorded of him. There are 
 others which are at once more humorous, and plea- 
 santer to read. Some father once complained to 
 him that he had led his son astray. " Indeed, I 
 did all I could for the young fellow," replied the 
 Beau, " I once gave him my arm all the way from 
 White's to Wattier's." An acquaintance asked 
 him for the repayment of a loan of ,500. " I 
 paid you," said the Beau. " Paid me ! when, 
 pray?" : 'When I nodded to you from the bow 
 window at White's and said, ' How d'ye do, 
 Jemmy ? ' One other story of Brummell as 
 jester must complete the list. A certain Colonel 
 Kelly, who was in command of the troops at the 
 Tower, was famous for the matchless lustre of his 
 blacking. A fire occurred at his quarters, and the 
 poor colonel himself perished in an attempt to 
 rescue his boots from the flames. As soon as the 
 sad news reached the West End, there was a rush 
 
 292
 
 among the Dandies to secure the colonel's valet. 
 The Beau was first, and asked terms. "The 
 colonel gave me 150 a year," said the man, " but 
 I should want 200 from you." "Make it 
 guineas," replied the Beau, " and I'll wait on you 
 myself." 
 
 Brummell's career was in one way remarkable, 
 there is no record of any entanglement with a 
 woman; and though, as already stated, he was 
 popular among ladies of the highest rank, and at 
 his prime might probably have found a wife of 
 birth and fortune, he never appears to have 
 thought seriously of marriage. There was a story 
 that he once attempted to elope with a young 
 lady in May fair, but that the pair were overtaken, 
 and the damsel conducted back to her parents, 
 before they had got through Grosvenor Square, 
 but no one believed it. It was said, too, that near 
 the end of his career, at a moment when he was 
 temporarily in possession of funds by a lucky 
 stroke at the gaming-table, he had thoughts of 
 settling, and made advances to a lady possessed 
 of a large fortune. But his love-making came to 
 nothing, and being questioned by a friend on the 
 subject, he replied, " Impossible, my dear fellow; 
 would you believe it, I discovered that the wretch 
 positively ate cabbage ? " Few of Brummell's 
 set married, or, if they did, set any great store on 
 the domestic side of matrimony. The Dandies, 
 as a class, were too selfish to rear and educate 
 
 293
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 children. So Brummell went through life, so far 
 as is known, without a love affair of any kind. 
 People said that he good-naturedly proposed to 
 several young ladies, knowing he would be re- 
 fused, and merely to give them a certain reputa- 
 tion in having rejected so eminent a lover. He 
 himself was quite candid as to the nature of his 
 affairs of the heart. " My love letters," he would 
 say, "are written on scented paper, and tear- 
 stained with a sponge dipped in rosewater." 
 
 Brummeirs fall came at last, mainly as the 
 result of his reckless extravagance, and of his 
 losses at play in the effort to find means to support 
 it. There is no evidence that his social influence 
 had suffered any serious decline, though his first 
 youth was, of course, over, and his pretensions 
 had lost the charm of novelty. He had been 
 upon the town for nearly twenty years, and the 
 small world in which he lived was difficult to keep 
 interested in any subject or any person over such 
 a period. A new generation arises in twenty years, 
 and, as a fact, the generation which was coming 
 to its own in 1816 had other ideals than the proper 
 set of a coat-collar or the tying of a cravat. None 
 the less, had the Beau possessed the slightest 
 sense of moderation in his style of living, he might 
 have wagged his head and laid down the law in 
 White's bow window for another quarter of a 
 century, as did a few of his companions upon 
 whom his mantle descended. But his mode of 
 
 294
 
 THE INCOMPARABLE BRUMMELL 
 
 life had exhausted his small patrimony quite early 
 in his career, and his participation in the prevailing 
 vice of the day sealed his doom. 
 
 It was well known that Brummell abstained 
 altogether from the gaming tables so long as he 
 was on intimate terms with the Regent. His 
 attendance upon that personage and his many 
 social engagements left little time at his disposal, 
 and he was not often seen at the clubs before the 
 year 1804. He had been elected, however, at 
 White's in 1798, and at Brooks's in the following 
 year, but his disastrous experience at both those 
 clubs and at Wattier's began later. It is notori- 
 ous that gaming at White's had been the terror 
 of nearly every great family who had a husband 
 or son open to its temptations since the days of 
 Queen Anne. The rage for play at that famous 
 society had moderated a little upon the accession 
 of George the Third; White's was the rallying- 
 place of the court party at that time, and the young 
 King frowned upon the excesses of the hazard 
 table. But those excesses were more than sur- 
 passed by the doings of a set of young men at 
 Brooks's, a club established by the malcontents at 
 White's for the very purpose of continuing the 
 orgies which had been interrupted by the new 
 school of virtue established at the older club. 
 The sums which passed across the faro tables at 
 Brooks's during the next twenty years could only 
 be counted literally in millions. There was no 
 
 295
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 secret about it at all ; young men like the Thanets, 
 the Foleys and Carlisles of that day, starting life 
 with fine landed estates and large fortunes of 
 ready money, were poor and embarrassed men 
 within that period. Hazard was still played at 
 Brooks's, but the chief game at both clubs at the 
 opening of the nineteenth century was whist for 
 enormous stakes, played by men who devoted their 
 lives to that game, and were patterns of modera- 
 tion in all else, in order that their minds might 
 be clear for the evening's contest, and who con- 
 sequently often made large fortunes either by 
 playing themselves, or by heavy betting on the 
 play of the best exponents of the game. Wattier's 
 was a club founded by the Prince's maitre d' 'hotel 
 of that name, where was played macao, a variation 
 of vingt et un. It was known as the Dandies' 
 Club, of which set of exquisites, with the Beau at 
 their head, it became the favourite resort. There 
 could be no worse school than White's and 
 Brooks's for such a man as Brummell, who was 
 by temperament and training utterly incompetent 
 to maintain an equal contest with the men who 
 played such a game as whist at both clubs. 
 
 Raikes records walking home with him in the 
 dawn of a summer morning after a disastrous 
 experience at the game; he confessed that "an 
 unfortunate ^10,000" which he had left un- 
 touched at his bankers had all gone at the fatal 
 green table, " and his depression was very great," 
 
 296
 
 THE INCOMPARABLE BRUMMELL 
 
 as well it might be. As they were passing through 
 Berkeley Square, and Brummell "was bitterly 
 lamenting his fortune, he suddenly stopped on 
 seeing something glistening in the kennel, stooped 
 down, and picked up a crooked sixpence. His 
 countenance immediately brightened. ' This/ he 
 said, ' is the harbinger of good luck/ He took 
 it home, and before he went to bed, drilled a hole 
 in it, and fitted it to his watch-chain." 
 
 For a time it appeared as though the Beau's 
 superstition were justified, for he had extraordinary 
 luck at the clubs, and if he had exercised the most 
 moderate self-control, might have lived comfort- 
 ably on the winnings of a couple of years. A 
 story or two of his gaming at the clubs survives. 
 He dropped in at Wattier's, where he found a 
 table full, with Tom Sheridan dealing at macao, 
 and proposed to that gentleman to take his place, 
 and halve the profits or losses of the deal. Upon 
 Sheridan consenting, Brummell added 200 to 
 the 10 which composed poor Sheridan's bank, 
 dealt with great success for ten minutes, and in 
 that short time won '^1500. As he handed ,750 
 to his partner, he said, " There, Tom, go home 
 and give your wife and brats a supper, and never 
 play again." On another occasion, after losing 
 a large sum at Wattier's he called with a melo- 
 dramatic air to a waiter to bring him a candle 
 and a pistol. A man sitting next to him imme- 
 diately produced the pistol and offered it to him, 
 
 297
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 when he and the rest of the company realized that 
 they had been playing with a desperate madman. 
 For his own sake, it was a pity Brummell could 
 not take his own advice to Sheridan, for he had 
 an extraordinary run of good fortune. He sat 
 down one evening at White's and at a single sit- 
 ting won ,20,000 at whist from his friend George 
 Harley Drummond, a member of the great bank- 
 ing house. It was the first time Mr. Drummond 
 had played for high stakes, and the loss led to 
 his withdrawal from the firm. At a later period 
 Brummell was known to be 36,000 to the good, 
 and his friends all implored him to buy an annuity 
 and so place himself beyond the reach of poverty. 
 He would not listen to them, and in a few weeks 
 was without a penny. His friends tried to keep 
 him within bounds by a method well known among 
 gamblers as the "tie up." Mr. Pemberton Mills 
 gave him 10 at White's on condition of receiving 
 1000 from Brummell if the latter were found at 
 the gaming table within a month; that is, Brum- 
 mell bet him TOO to i that he would not play 
 within that period. A week later Mills again 
 came to the club, and found him still playing aftej 
 four nights of continuous loss. "Well, Brum- 
 mell," he said, "you may at least give me back 
 the 10 you had the other night." The Beau, in 
 fact, was no match for the expert players he met 
 at White's, and his ruin was certain. He attri- 
 buted all his misfortunes to the loss of his lucky 
 
 298
 
 THE INCOMPARABLE BRUMMELL 
 
 JF 
 
 sixpence, which he said he gave away by mistake 
 to a hackney coachman, and now supposed " that 
 rascal Rothschild had got hold of it." He was, 
 indeed, so convinced of the value of that treasure, 
 that he went to the length of advertising for it. 
 More than a score of people called in answer, 
 each with a sixpence with a hole in it, but the 
 Beau was unable .to recognize his talisman among 
 them. 
 
 Brummell, at the end of these reverses, was 
 almost in a state of indigence, though for a time 
 he managed to conceal the fact from general 
 knowledge. His establishment in Chesterfield 
 Street had been exchanged for a smaller one in 
 Chapel Street; there were no more little dinners, 
 and when the Beau lacked invitations, he dined 
 alone at Brooks's. But he still appeared as usual 
 in his old splendour, and, like others in his situa- 
 tion, he contrived to live upon such credit as re- 
 mained to him, and by the fearsome aid of the 
 money lenders. Of these, a firm of that time, 
 Howard and Gibbs, were the ravens who fed 
 him during those last lean years. Later came 
 gifts and loans from a host of generous friends; 
 later still sums raised upon accommodation bills 
 bearing the joint signatures of himself and certain 
 of his acquaintance. It is the old weary story of 
 the spendthrift in distress, money raised at ruinous 
 interest upon personal security, and a final 'dispute 
 between the recipients of the meagre spoil result- 
 
 299
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 ing from such transactions as to the responsibility, 
 when the inexorable presentation became due. 
 
 Among these acquaintances of the Beau was a 
 gentleman whose name has survived only in an 
 
 initial, a Mr. M , who was entirely dissatisfied 
 
 with Brummeirs behaviour in the transactions 
 they had undertaken together, took umbrage, and 
 resolved, as was said at the time, to have his 
 pound of flesh. This meant nothing more nor 
 less than the incarceration of the Beau's sacred 
 person in a debtor's gaol, for there was no other 
 asset to seize, except a small collection of furni- 
 ture at Chapel Street. Mr. M , however, in 
 
 his dudgeon was resolved upon that impious 
 course, and Brummell was aware of his determina- 
 tion; possibly one or two others, though certainly 
 not many. Among these, however, was perhaps 
 Scrope Davies, that strange figure of the Regency, 
 gambler, scholar, poet, man of fashion. It was 
 Scrope Davies who discovered Byron with his locks 
 in curl-papers, and was sworn to secrecy; which is, 
 perhaps, a reason for our possession of that inter- 
 esting scrap of knowledge; it was Scrope, too, 
 who cut his throat so regularly and so ineffectually 
 after each Newmarket meeting that the surgeon 
 refused to hurry when he heard it " was only Mr. 
 Davies." On the very last day of the Beau's 
 sojourn in London, when he was obviously look- 
 ing out for travelling expenses, he wrote to Davies 
 a famous letter. " My dear Scrope, Lend me 
 
 300
 
 THE INCOMPARABLE BRUMMELL 
 
 500 for a few days : the funds are shut for the 
 dividends, or I would not have made the request. 
 G. Brummell." The letter was delivered to 
 Davies as he was driving with Byron in Charles 
 Street, and the reply is even more famous. " My 
 dear Brummell, All my money is locked up in 
 the funds. Scrope Davies." 
 
 Mr. M J s writ, in fact, was out; Brummell 
 
 knew it, and had at last resolved to quit the scene 
 of his long triumph and seek the shelter of a 
 foreign shore in order to escape the clutches of 
 
 the outraged M , who thenceforward became 
 
 known as the Dandy Killer. The extreme 
 urgency of BrummeH's affairs, however, was still 
 unknown, and Raikes, who had so often shared 
 his confidence, was surprised when he heard of 
 his intended flight on its very eve. " I never was 
 more astonished in my life," wrote that gentle- 
 man, "than when in 1816 he confided to me that 
 his situation had become so desperate that he 
 must fly the country that night and by stealth." 
 The Beau appeared that evening at the opera as 
 usual, but left early, and did not return home. He 
 drove in a chaise lent by a friend to his own, 
 which was waiting for him a few miles on the 
 Dover Road with four post-horses, chartered a 
 small vessel at that port; thoughtfully placed his 
 carriage on board, and was at Calais soon after 
 daybreak. On the morning of the i;th of May 
 1816, accordingly, London woke to find itself 
 
 301
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 bereft of its paragon. If there had been any pos- 
 sible consolation in his presence, which was hardly 
 the case in his shorn condition, London might 
 have had reason to deplore his loss, for his ac- 
 quaintance and his tradesmen were ^60,000 to the 
 bad. Many of the sufferers were among his per- 
 sonal friends whose bounty had kept him going 
 during the past two years; the newspapers were 
 full of lists of these gentlemen, with their names 
 hardly veiled by blanks and asterisks. There 
 was, of course, an official raid on his house in 
 Chapel Street, and "the furniture, wine, books, 
 plate and general effects of a gentleman of fashion 
 lately gone abroad" were sold on the spot for 
 ;ii,ooo. Among these was a choice snuffbox 
 containing a slip of paper bearing the Beau's 
 handwriting to the following effect : " This was 
 intended for the Prince Regent if he had behaved 
 with more propriety towards me." 
 
 It was pointed out by a writer somewhat lacking 
 in the senses of proportion and humour, that 
 Napoleon Bonaparte and Beau Brummell both 
 ended their careers at much the same time; it is 
 certain that in the case of both those great men a 
 period of glory was followed by one of decline 
 which their biographers would fain leave out of 
 their records. Bonaparte might surely have found 
 a happier end than he did had a round shot struck 
 him on the field of Waterloo, and had the Fates 
 snatched Brummell from the scenes of his success 
 
 302
 
 THE INCOMPARABLE BRUMMELL 
 
 a few years before he outran the constable, his 
 memory might have preserved some show of inter- 
 est, if only as that of a social curiosity. But he 
 displayed no particular qualities of steadfastness 
 or manliness during his prosperity, and he was 
 now to bear the supreme test of adversity still 
 worse. Brummell, in fact, ran over to France, 
 and for the space of twenty-four years set himself 
 deliberately to live upon the charity of his friends. 
 This charity was copious enough to have main- 
 tained him in comfort, and even luxury, had he 
 had the common decency to adopt his style of 
 living to his altered circumstances. The greater 
 number of his acquaintance in London, includ- 
 ing many whose goodness he had already abused, 
 came forward with the greatest liberality. He 
 received the anonymous gift of 1000 almost at 
 the moment of his arrival at Calais ; a Mr. Cham- 
 berlayne made him a yearly allowance, the Duke 
 of Argyll, Lord Alvanley, Lord Sefton, Lord 
 Worcester, and many others were unwearying in 
 their benefactions. The Duchess of York period- 
 ically sent to him little purses worked by her own 
 hand, which were always well filled. With the 
 final peace which followed Waterloo, Calais was 
 crowded with English gentry travelling on the 
 continent, the best known of whom made a point 
 of calling on the Beau, to spare whose purse many 
 of them ordered the dinner from Dessein's and 
 paid for it; others left substantial proofs of their 
 
 303
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 kindness behind them. As Lord Stuart de Rothe- 
 say, the English Ambassador, said, Brummell was 
 the most happily situated man in Europe, living 
 as he did on the road from London to Paris, with 
 the news from both capitals brought daily to his 
 door. There was a procession, indeed, of the 
 best of English society to his modest suite of three 
 rooms at honest Leleux's, the printer, who lived 
 at the old Hotel dAngleterre, and found a roof 
 for the Beau for just sixteen years. Here, with 
 no hospitality to dispense, he might have lived in 
 comfort on a tithe of the levy he made on his old 
 friends had he been endowed with a spark of 
 right feeling or self-respect. 
 
 BrummeH's return for all that warm-hearted 
 kindness revealed no trace of those qualities. His 
 first step on settling at Leleux's was to spend 
 1000 on furniture for his three rooms. Nothing 
 but boule and suites of the style Louis Quartorze, 
 with ornaments of old Sevres, would satisfy the 
 taste of this prince of mendicants. If he became 
 tired of any of these expensive toys, he would 
 sell them for a quarter of their value, and during 
 ten years he kept a courier running at frequent 
 intervals between Calais and Paris on commis- 
 sions for such transactions, who owned to saving 
 twelve hundred pounds in the business. In the 
 midst of these elegant appointments he lived the 
 ceremonious life of the indolent exquisite; drank 
 his cafe au lait at nine precisely; read till twelve 
 
 304
 
 THE INCOMPARABLE BRUMMELL 
 
 at which hour he was seen to cross the passage 
 leading to his bedroom in a flowing dressing-gown 
 of surpassing richness for his two hours' toilette ; 
 so punctual was he, indeed, that M. Leleux's 
 printers would say, "Ah, voila M. Brummell, 
 c'est midi," and would lay aside their craft for the 
 midday meal. Then would follow the Beau's 
 ridiculous levee of two hours; his promenade of 
 one, his dinner at five brought over from Dessein's 
 hotel ; and at seven-thirty, the play, where he kept 
 a box. 
 
 This, of course, was all mighty well for a man 
 of fortune, but for a broken spendthrift living on 
 charity it was not only indecent, but was attended 
 by circumstances which made it dishonest. Raikes, 
 who was exceedingly tolerant of the Beau's short- 
 comings, makes that quite clear. Brummell de- 
 liberately misrepresented the amount of the re- 
 sources with which his friends provided him, and 
 wrote frequent pitiful letters to England suggest- 
 ing he was in want at the very time that he was 
 rioting in the extravagance we have described. 
 " His applications to his friends were unceasing," 
 says Raikes, " and though for a long time liberally 
 answered, at last they were wearied by the repe- 
 tition, particularly when no signs of indigence 
 could be observed in his mode of life. His kind 
 friends were constantly ready to assist him, but 
 when at last he had recourse to statements of 
 distress and imprisonment which the next post 
 u 305
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 proved to be unfounded, their patience began to 
 be exhausted." 
 
 Meanwhile the Beau abated none of his old 
 social pretensions, strutted about the town, gave 
 himself all the airs of his prosperity, and dis- 
 played all his old insolence. He dined once with 
 Mr. Marshall, the British Consul, whose office he 
 himself coveted, and, taking a cutlet on his fork, 
 threw it to a pet dog in the room, with the remark, 
 " Here, see if you can get your teeth through it, 
 for I'm damned if I can." He spoke of a military 
 man, a French resident who had been wounded 
 in the face, as " a hatter." This gentleman called 
 for an explanation. " I'm sorry any one could 
 conceive it possible that I could be guilty of such 
 a breach of good manners," said Brummell. 
 : ' There is not a word of truth in it." The French- 
 man, quite satisfied, rose to go. " For," added 
 Brummell, " now I think of it, I never in my life 
 dealt with a hatter without a nose." 
 
 The death of the Duchess of York in 1820 was 
 a great blow to Brummell; the continued favour 
 of that royal lady, implying, as it does, some 
 merit which it is difficult to discover elsewhere, is 
 one of the few things to be recorded to his credit ; 
 and the final severance of their friendship brought 
 an added trouble in the cessation of the benefits 
 he had long been accustomed to receive. The 
 accession of his former patron to the throne in the 
 same year seems to have raised few hopes in the 
 
 306
 
 Beau's breast : " An indulgent amnesty of former 
 peccadilloes," he wrote to Raikes, " should be the 
 primary grace influencing newly throned sove- 
 reignty. From my experience, however, of the 
 personage in question, I must doubt any favour- 
 able relaxation of those stubborn prejudices which 
 have during so many years operated to the total 
 exclusion of one of his eleves from the royal 
 notice, whom I need not particularize." Brum- 
 mell, therefore, was probably not disappointed at 
 the barren effect upon his affairs of the visit which 
 King George made to Calais when he passed 
 through the town on his way to Hanover in 1821. 
 Some slight tentative advances he made seem to 
 suggest that there was a lingering hope in his 
 mind, but he should have known that a complete 
 submission was the only means of obtaining a 
 restoration of the royal favour. It was of little 
 purpose to put down his name at Dessein's, where 
 his Majesty was lodged, when he failed to make 
 one of the loyal party of English residents who 
 welcomed their monarch on his landing at the 
 pier. Brummell, indeed, carefully took a walk in 
 the opposite direction at the moment of that 
 auspicious event, and it was only by accident that 
 he caught sight of his former patron. The Beau 
 was returning to Leleux's on his return from the 
 walk, when he found himself hindered by the 
 crowd which lined the street, and could only 
 cross over to gain his rooms just as the royal 
 
 U 2 307
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 carriage was approaching. The spectacle of the 
 well-dressed Englishman making his way in front 
 of the approaching procession attracted the notice 
 of all. "Good God, there's Brummell ! " ex- 
 claimed the King to one of his suite, as the Beau, 
 pale as death, brushed past Leleux at his door 
 without a word, and disappeared into his room. 
 There seemed some little pathos in Brummell's 
 sending old Maraschino to the hotel in order that 
 his Majesty's punch should not lack a necessary 
 ingredient. So, too, when that potentate asked 
 for snuff after his dinner, and M. le Maire found 
 himself wanting in that luxury, it was to Brum- 
 mell that a messenger was sent off hot-foot, and 
 the contents of the Beau's box which regaled the 
 royal nose. " Ah," said his Majesty, after a pinch, 
 sc I know only one man who can mix snuff like 
 that." On the morrow some of the suite called 
 on Brummell, and advised him to seek an inter- 
 view with the outraged Majesty; it is possible 
 that they knew the royal mind at the moment, and 
 that with the Beau's submission there were hopes 
 of a return of favour. But it was all in vain ; the 
 Beau would not humble himself ; the King rolled 
 on to Hanover without the refreshing bounty 
 which might have followed the Beau's unbending, 
 and of which that unfortunate stood so sorely in 
 need, and the last word was said in the matter 
 when his Majesty remarked, upon quittingthe town, 
 " I leave Calais, and have not seen Brummell." 
 
 308
 
 THE INCOMPARABLE BRUMMELL 
 
 There had long been a movement among the 
 best and most discriminating of Brummell's 
 friends to get for him some official post abroad, 
 such as a consulship in one of the more important 
 towns. Leghorn was mentioned, and it is prob- 
 able that he might have obtained that at Calais, 
 only that Mr. Marshall, its holder, as was said, 
 "persisted in living." But the failure of Brum- 
 mell to come to a reconciliation with the King was 
 regarded by those friends as a sign that it would 
 be useless to push his interest during his Majesty's 
 lifetime; Mr. Canning, indeed, refused to recom- 
 mend him even upon the solicitation of the Duke 
 of York. None the less, a move was made upon 
 the Duke of Wellington's ministry coming into 
 office in 1828, and Brummell was appointed as 
 Consul of Lower Brittany, with head-quarters at 
 Caen, at a salary of ,400 a year. 
 
 There was now a difficulty in his leaving Calais, 
 where he was in pawn, so to speak. His debts 
 at this time were never accurately stated, but they 
 may perhaps be estimated by the fact that he owed 
 his valet 250. He had a large overdraft at his 
 banker's, M. Leveux, who advanced another ^500 
 to enable him to quit the town. But to meet his 
 responsibility to that gentleman, the Beau was 
 forced to mortgage 320 a year of his future 
 salary of 400. His general attitude towards his 
 liabilities is perhaps indicated by his last act on 
 leaving Calais; he took the occasion to order a 
 
 309
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 new snuffbox at Dabert's, a mere trifle, however, 
 costing only 100. 
 
 It is a dreary and unprofitable task to watch the 
 Beau through the last phase of his career, that 
 miserable, useless life at Caen, in which, how- 
 ever, his true character, perhaps, best appears. 
 At the outset he committed an act of incredible 
 folly by writing to Lord Palmerston an official 
 memorandum to the effect that his office was a 
 sinecure, and should be abolished, or reduced to a 
 scale capable of management by a vice-consul. 
 The Foreign Minister, at a period of popular agi- 
 tation for retrenchment, was obliged to act upon 
 this report, accepted Brummell's resignation, and 
 established a local grocer, an Englishman named 
 Armstrong, as vice-consul at a small salary. No 
 one has ever fathomed the Beau's motives in this 
 astonishing proceeding. Some thought he hoped 
 to force the government to find him a better post 
 elsewhere; others that he was moved by pique 
 against the mortgagees of his salary. It was in 
 all the circumstances an act of deliberate dis- 
 honesty, and BrummeH's delicacy in accepting 
 a few hundred pounds of public money for an 
 easy post when he had been living on charity for 
 years deceived no one. 
 
 Meanwhile he set up as a leader of fashion at 
 Caen with all his old insolence; would have 
 nothing to do with the prefects and local officials 
 of the new regime of Louis Philippe, whom he 
 
 310
 
 THE INCOMPARABLE BRUMMELL 
 
 was accustomed to speak of as "the Duke of 
 Orleans," and confined his patronage to the 
 old Legitimist families of the neighbourhood, 
 who, to be sure, were exceedingly kind to him, 
 and were often repaid by his customary rude- 
 ness. One of these gentlemen gave a dinner 
 in his honour, a feast of turtle, ortolans, Rouen 
 salmon, and the like. Some one next morning 
 asked Brummell how it had gone off. " Don't ask 
 me, my good fellow," he replied, " but, poor man, 
 he did his best." An English lady, seeing him 
 pass, invited him from her balcony to " take tea." 
 " Madam," he replied, "you take medicine, take a 
 walk, take a liberty, but you drink tea." But his 
 career was coming to an end, financially, socially 
 and physically. His jaunty attitude towards his 
 responsibilities was no longer tolerated by his 
 creditors, and Mr. Armstrong, the vice-consul, an 
 energetic, capable man, the good genius of all 
 the English residing in that part of France, who 
 had been installed as his man of business, could 
 keep them no longer at bay. He was arrested for 
 debt, and for a time, at least, was forced to rub 
 shoulders with a set of unwashed debtors in a 
 common room of the prison, at which his gorge 
 rose. His imprisonment was the signal for re- 
 newed begging in England, and renewed bene- 
 factions from his friends. The indefatigable 
 Armstrong obtained the relaxation of the prison 
 discipline in Brummeirs favour, and he even got
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 two quarts of milk daily for his bath, and dis- 
 played his silver shaving set in that place of 
 durance. He grumbled at the dinners supplied 
 by Armstrong, "and the prison cats grew fat on 
 the cutlets he threw to them, oblivious of the 
 hungry mouths of the prisoners around him." At 
 the suggestion of Lord Alvanley, Armstrong 
 started on a begging expedition to England, and 
 personally canvassed his friends. Meanwhile 
 Lord Granville, at Paris, materially softened 
 BrummeH's lot in prison by his generosity. The 
 good Armstrong again found generous help with 
 the Beau's friends, those same good Samaritans 
 who had assisted him so regularly during the 
 previous twenty years. Lastly Lord Palmerston 
 found means of applying some 200 from a public 
 fund to Brummell's needs, and the list was graced 
 by a donation of 100 from King William the 
 Fourth. By funds thus provided, Armstrong was 
 able to make some compromise with the creditors, 
 and Brummell was released. He appeared the 
 same evening at a soiree given by one of the 
 leaders of the old French society with all his old 
 engaging swagger. Upon receiving the congratu- 
 lations of the company, he replied : " Je puis vous 
 assurer que c'est aujourdhui le plus heureux jour 
 de ma vie, car je suis sorti de prison, et j'ai mange 
 de saumon." 
 
 Captain Jesse, who afterwards became his bio- 
 grapher, made a pilgrimage to Caen at this time 
 
 312
 
 THE INCOMPARABLE BRUMMELL 
 
 and met his hero. He found him quite unchanged 
 by adversity; his bow varied from an inclination 
 of forty-five degrees upward, according to the con- 
 sideration he thought due to the person he was 
 good enough to notice ; his black pants, buff waist- 
 coat, and blue coat were as unexceptionable as 
 ever, his boots were blacked over the soles, his 
 spittoon was of silver; " one cannot spit into clay," 
 he explained to Jesse. His consumption of fine 
 linen was on the old scale, he still aimed, at least, 
 at three shirts and three white neckcloths a day : 
 "An elegant," he said, "requires per week 20 
 shirts, 24 pocket handkerchiefs, 9 or 10 pairs of 
 summer trousers, 30 neck handkerchiefs, a dozen 
 waistcoats, and stockings a discretion." No wonder 
 the Beau's laundress remained unpaid. He 
 strutted about gibing and sneering at every one, 
 a sort of walking lampoon. At the same time he 
 would drink champagne with any stranger he met 
 at the table d'hote of the Hotel d'Angleterre (he 
 was at last deposed from a separate establishment 
 in rooms of his own), and would contend with the 
 other guests for the best portions of the chicken 
 fricassee. At this table he would hector and lay 
 down the law and fire off his insolent sallies on 
 his betters. He was asked once if he had been as 
 intimate with King William the Fourth when 
 Duke of Clarence as with the others of the Royal 
 Family. "The man did very well," he replied, 
 " to walk about the quarter-deck crying ' luff/ but 
 
 313
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 he was so rough and uncivilized that I was obliged 
 to cut him." This of his sovereign, who had but 
 lately subscribed 100 to get the Beau out of 
 prison. What could man or angel do for such a 
 creature as this? 
 
 Certainly poor Armstrong did all that was pos- 
 sible, went a second time to England to confer 
 with Lord Alvanley as to getting some fixed in- 
 come for Brummell, however small. It was pro- 
 posed to put up subscription lists at White's and 
 Brooks's to raise a fund for the broken impostor. 
 The idea was rejected as to'o humiliating, though 
 it does not appear that Brummell himself made 
 any objection. But many of his friends were now 
 dead, others were weary of twenty years of im- 
 portunity, accompanied, as it was, by such dis- 
 honest extravagance; others still had forgotten 
 him after he had left Calais for the seclusion of 
 Caen. " Hallo, Brummell," said one of these, 
 who happened to stray to the old town and en- 
 countered the Beau in the street, "we all heard 
 you were dead." "Mere stock-jobbing, my dear 
 fellow, mere stock-jobbing," he replied, with 
 something of* his old humour. But by incredible 
 exertions Armstrong at length got together a cer- 
 tain annuity of 120 a year from England, and 
 this he himself dispensed, setting aside 60 for 
 board and lodging, and 60 for wine and clothing. 
 Here again it was hopeless to bring the Beau to 
 reason. Armstrong insisted on a maximum of one 
 
 314
 
 THE INCOMPARABLE BRUMMELL 
 
 shirt a day and a black cravat instead of a white 
 one, and was obdurate in the matter of brocaded 
 dressing-gowns, even though the Beau indignantly 
 flung one of cotton out of the window. But in 
 other matters it was impossible to control him. 
 He must still have his biscuits de Rheims and his 
 Maraschino, his primrose gloves, oiled wigs, eau 
 de Cologne and vernis de Guiton blacking at five 
 francs a bottle, and for these necessities he in- 
 curred debts all over the province. Worst of all, 
 to Armstrong's great wrath, he began speculating 
 in lottery tickets. 
 
 It was, perhaps, a merciful dispensation to all 
 concerned when repeated attacks of paralysis at 
 length left Brummell with aa impaired reason; 
 even then there were still friendly houses open 
 to him in Caen, so tolerant is human charity; the 
 kindly French gentlefolk would allow the old man 
 to creep to their firesides and fall asleep, to be 
 wakened only when a meal was ready. But those 
 last years were attended by incidents of which it 
 is painful even to think. In his sitting-room at 
 the hotel the stricken Beau would hold ghostly 
 receptions of the friends of his prime, would rise 
 to receive his phantom guests with the courtly bow 
 of his prosperity, chatter with each until he heard 
 the next announced, or until the "carriages were 
 called at ten." Could anything surpass this 
 horror, or Nemesis bring a more fitting retribution 
 to a life of folly ? It is said that an English lady 
 
 315
 
 IN THE DAYS OF THE GEORGES 
 
 who had known him happened to be in Caen and 
 saw the old man crossing the passage at the hotel 
 on his way to one of these mournful ceremonies. 
 At the sight of the afflicted Brummell, whom she 
 had last seen as the elegant autocrat at Almack's, 
 she burst into tears, and hurriedly left the town 
 and the horror of his fall behind her. 
 
 From this misery Brummell was at last rescued 
 by death; the wants of his last two years tended 
 by the pious women of the Hopital du Bon 
 Sauveur, where he died on the 3Oth of March 
 1840. His grave is still marked by a plain head- 
 stone in the cemetery at Caen. 
 
 So ended George Bryan Brummell, and charity 
 itself could hardly deny that it was a fitting close 
 to such a life of folly. He and the small band 
 who shared his inspiration represented no ideal 
 except the establishment of a narrow social 
 tyranny; they stood aside in their petty seclusion 
 blind and deaf to all the great influences which 
 were moulding the modern world as we know it, 
 and lived through a crisis in the national life with- 
 out leaving a trace of their influence upon their 
 times. One may search the annals of those days 
 in vain to find a man of real eminence among 
 them, and it is surely well that time should have 
 exposed their pretentions, and estimated their 
 exact importance. Brummell and the cult he 
 founded, indeed, have evaporated into a mere 
 name. There is not even an adequate portrait 
 
 316
 
 THE INCOMPARABLE BRUMMELL 
 
 to show us the bodily presence of the paragon 
 who so fascinated London a hundred years ago, 
 and his only memorial, apart from the record of 
 his follies, is that plain headstone in Caen ceme- 
 tery which some kind hand still keeps piously in 
 repair. 
 
 317
 
 INDEX 
 
 ABBRCORN, Earl of, 125 
 
 Addison, 17, 87, 88 
 
 Almack's, 143, 159, 233 et seq., 287, 28 
 
 316 
 Alvanley, Lord, 284, 285, 290, 303, 312 
 
 melia, Pri 
 
 38, 47, 48 
 
 284, 2 
 s, dau 
 
 Amelia, Princess, daughter of George II, 
 
 Ancaster, Duke of, 178, 206 
 
 Anglesey, Lord, 264 
 
 Anne, Queen, 29, 30, 31, 33, 295 
 
 Argyll, Duke of, 273, 303 
 
 Aston, Sir Willoughby, 242 
 
 Athemevm, 132-133 
 
 Augusta of Saxe Gotha, wife of Frederick 
 
 Prince of Wales, 61, 156, 165, 169, 176, 
 
 J 95 
 Authentic Record of tht Court of Eng- 
 
 land, 124, 127, 131 
 Ayscough, Dean, 92 
 
 HARRINGTON, Lord, 206 
 Bathurst, Lord Chancellor, 209 
 Beaufort, Duke of, 273 
 Beckford, William, 127, 132 
 Bedford, Duke of, 264, 272 
 Bellenden, Mary, 34 
 Bessborough, Lord, 248 
 Bolingbroke, 78 
 Boscawen, Lucy, 170 
 Bristol, Lady, 49 
 
 - , Lord, 48, 184, 187, 212 
 
 Brooks's, 143, 230-247, 291 ; foundation of 
 the club, 295, 299, 314 
 
 Brummell, George Bryan ("Beau") 
 origin, 253-258 ; education, 258-260 ; in- 
 timacy with the Prince Regent, 261-277 > 
 his taste in dress, 268-271 ; his influence 
 on society, 272-277 ; rupture with the 
 Prince Regent, 277-294 ; at the gaming- 
 tables, 295-302 ; his fall and exile in 
 Calais, 302-307 ; final contact with George 
 IV, 307-308 ; last days and death, 309- 
 3'7 
 
 - , William, father of " Beau," 256-258 
 Brunswicks, family strife of, 19, 26 
 Buccleuch, Duke of, 234 
 
 Bunbury, Sir Thomas Charles, 151, 159, 
 
 234, 2 47 
 
 Burford, Lord, 248 
 Burgoyne, General, 334 
 Burnett, Bishop, 17 
 Busche, Mme. von, 23 
 Bute, Lord, 78, 92, 93, 150, 156, 169 
 Byron, Lord, 254, 266, 300 
 
 CANNING, 309 
 
 Carlisle, Lord, 234, 238, 239, 241, 296 
 
 Caroline of Ansbach, Queen of George II, 
 
 i5-i8,_27, 28-41, 50-77 
 , Princess, daughter of George II, 62, 
 
 7, 73 
 , Queen of George IV, 114-118, 124, 
 
 253, 279 
 
 , daughter of George IV, 26 
 
 Cartaret, 71, 78, 147 
 Charles Edward Stuart, 79 
 
 VI of Austria, 16, 28 
 
 Charlotte of Mecklenburg Strelitz, Queen 
 
 of George III, 101, 115, 125, 126, 137, 
 
 156-158, 162, 198, 210 
 Chatham, Earl of. See Pitt, William 
 Chesterfield, Lord, 53, 78, 290 
 Cholmqndeley, Lord, 234, 267 
 Chudleigh, Elizabeth (Duchess of King- 
 ston), 102 ; the story of her astonishing 
 
 career, 165-225 
 Citizen, 95, 96, 98, 114 
 Clarges, Sir Thomas, 234 
 Clement XIV, Pope, 201, 216 
 Clermont, Lord, 234, 248 
 Clinton, Lady Lucy, 146 
 Combe, William, 95, 98 
 Crabbe, 274 
 
 Craven, Berkeley, 259, 266 
 Croker, John Wilson, 51 
 Cromartie, Lord, ^9 
 " Cumberland, Princess of" (Mrs. Serres), 
 
 118 et seq, 
 , Henry Frederick, Duke of, 121, 122, 
 
 13 
 , William, Duke of, 45, 50-51, 54, 61, 
 
 77> .79 
 Cunningham, Alan, 100 
 
 DAMER, Colonel Dawson, 273 
 Darlington, Countess of (Countess Kiel- 
 
 mansegge), 28, 33, 40 
 Davies, Scrope, 300-301 
 Delamere, Lord, 273 
 De la Warr, Lord, 63-64, 137 
 Derby, Lord, 234, 248 
 Dettingen, 15. 79, 143 
 Devonshire, Duchess of, 211, 273 
 , Duke of, 146, 248 
 Dodsley, 79 
 Dorset, Duke of, 147 
 Drogheda, Lord, 248 
 Duncannon, Lord, 248 
 
 318
 
 INDEX 
 
 EGREMONT, Lord, 231-232, 239, 249 
 Ernest Augustus, first Elector of Hanover 
 
 (father of George I), 19, 20, 27 
 Enrol, Ix>rd, 151 
 Essex, Lord, 73 
 Esterhazy, Prince, 267 
 
 FIFE, Lord, 267, 273 
 
 'Fifteen, The, 33 
 
 Fitzherbert, Mrs., 95, 115; Beau Brum- 
 mell and, 271, 278-283 
 
 Fitzpatrick, Richard, 234, 236, 241, 242 
 
 Foley, Lord, 238, 248, 267, 296 
 
 Foote, Samuel, 207-208 
 
 'Forty-five, The, 78 
 
 Fox, Charles James, 142, 144, 150, 151 ; 
 the story of his gaming, 229-249, 257, 
 258 ; the negligence of his dress, 269 
 
 , Henry, 69, 142, I44 , 145-159 
 
 , Sir Stephen, 69, 144, 234, 238 
 
 Franklin, Benjamin, 217 
 
 Frederick the Great of Prussia, 38, 47, 84, 
 190, 218, 221, 224 
 
 Wilhelm of Prussia, brother-in-law of 
 
 George II, 14) 38, 45-48, 54 
 
 Louis, Prince of Wales, birth and 
 
 childhood, 13-19, 29-37 > his place in the 
 Double Marriage project, 37-48 ; comes 
 to England and is created Prince of 
 Wales, 48-52 ; feud with his father, 
 George II, 52-82 ; marriage, 63-65 ; 
 death and character, 81-83, *&> 169, 
 i?6, 195 
 
 GAINSBOROUGH, 137, 143 
 
 George I, 13, 19-25, 27, 49 
 
 II, ii ; character, etc., 13-26 ; marriage 
 
 with Caroline of Ansbach, 15-18, 28-29 ; 
 strife with George I, 31-36 ; attitude 
 towards the Double Marriage with 
 Prussia, 40-^8 ; feud with his son, 
 Frederick Prince of Wales, 48-82 ; his 
 opinion of George III, 93 ; relations with 
 Lady Sarah Lennox, 141, 148-149 ; 
 relations with Elizabeth Chudleigh, 
 180-182 
 
 Ill, 82 ; youth, 89-95 > legendary 
 
 intrigue with Hannah Lightfoot, the 
 " Elusive Quakeress," 89-137 ; romantic 
 attachment to Lady Sarah Lennox, 
 149-162 ; cordiality towards Elizabeth 
 Chudleigh, 183, 188, 198, 295 
 
 IV, 26, 94, 128 ; the story of his re- 
 lations with Beau Brummell, 253-302 
 
 Gibbon, Edmund, 237 
 
 Gordon, Lord George, 257 
 
 Grafton, Duke of, 73, 146 
 
 Granby, Lord, 215 
 
 Grosvenor, General, 273 
 
 Gunning, Elizabeth, Duchess of Hamilton, 
 15, 157. 178 
 
 HAMILTON, Duke of, 170, 176, 178 
 
 , Lady Anne, 124 
 
 , Lady Archibald, 83 
 
 , Lady Elizabeth, 170 
 
 Handel, 59 
 
 Harcourt, Lord, 125, 156 
 
 Hardwicke, Lord Chancellor, 50 
 
 Hayter, Dr., Bishop of Norwich, 92 
 Hertford, Lady, 267 
 
 , Lord, 208, 273 
 
 Heryey, Augustus John, husband of 
 
 Elizabeth Chudleigh, 171 et seq. 
 , Lord, 12, 48-50, 54-78, 83, 142, 169, 
 
 171 
 
 Hoadley, Bishop, 62 
 Holland, Lord, 230-232, 237, 238, 247 
 Hotham, Sir Charles, 43-44 
 Howard, Mrs., 34 
 Howe, Lord, 170 
 Hume, Joseph, 123 
 
 ILCHKSTER, Lord, 144, 157 
 
 JACOBITES, 12, 33, 69, 158 
 
 James I, 28, 29 
 
 Jersey, Lady, her relations with the Prince 
 Regent, 267, 278-281, 291 
 
 , Lord, 264 
 
 Jesse, Captain, biographer of Beau Brum- 
 mell, 312-313 
 
 , John Heneage, 132-137 
 
 Johnson, Dr., 98, 207 
 
 Junzus, 121, 127 
 
 KENDAL, Duchess of (Melusina Schulem- 
 
 berg), 23, 28, 40, 53 
 Kent, Duke of, 129 
 Kerr, Lord Chas., 263 
 Kielmansegge, Countess. See Darlington 
 
 Countess of 
 Kildare, Lady, 148 
 Kingston, Duke of, 186 et seq. 
 Komgsmark, Count Philip, 21-25, 2 7 
 
 LAUZUN, Due de, 248 
 
 Lawson, Miss, maid of honour to Augusta, 
 
 Princess of Wales, 170 
 Lennox, Lady Caroline, 145, 147-155 
 , Lady Sarah, her romance with 
 
 George III, 141-161 ; first and second 
 
 marriages, 159-162 
 Lepel, Mary, Lady Harvey, 55 
 Lightfoot, Hannah, legendary intrigue of 
 
 George III with, 89, et seq. 
 Liverpool, Earl of, 256 
 Louis of France, 215 
 Philippe, 310 
 
 MACDONALD, Flora, 79 
 Manners, Lord Charles, 263 
 
 , Lord Robert, 263 
 
 March, Lord, 234 
 Mariborough, 14 
 
 , Duchess of, 58 
 
 Middlesex, Lady, 83 
 Mildmay, Sir H., 285-286 
 Monson, Lord, 248, 255 
 Montagu, Mrs., 181 
 
 , Lady Mary Wortley, 48, 172 
 
 Monthly Magazine, 100, 102, 104, 106, 108, 
 
 112, 114, 117, 124, 126, 132 
 More, Hannah, 210-211 
 Mountstuart, Lord, 206 
 Murray, Lord Mansfield, 142, 206, 214 
 
 NAPIER, Hon. Geo., 159 
 
 319
 
 INDEX 
 
 Napoleon Bonaparte, 254, 302 
 JVew Monthly Magazine, 127 
 Newbottle, Lord, 151, 153, 154-155 
 Newcastle, Duke of, 35, 36, 53, 147, 206, 
 
 213, 256 
 
 Noel, Sir Gerald, 123, 128 
 Norfolk, Duchess of, 79 
 
 , Duke of, 269 
 
 North, Lord, 82, 92 
 Notes and Queries, 132 
 
 ORLEANS, Duke of, 248 
 Osnaburgh, Bishop of, 35, 52, 53 
 Ossory, Lord Upper, 234 
 Oudenarde, 15 
 
 PALMERSTON, Lord, 310, 312 
 Peel, Sir Robert, 123 
 Pelham, 143, 145 
 Petersham, Lord, 263, 267, 273 
 Pigott, Admiral, 234, 248 
 Piozzi. Mrs. (Mrs. Thrale), 98, 99, ico 
 Pitt, William, Earl of Chatham, 61, 65, 
 71, 123, 126, 127, 129, 130, 133, 142, 172 
 
 , William, 143, 177, 273 
 
 Platen, Countess, 20-25, 28 
 
 Portland, Duke of, 206 
 
 " Pouting Place of Princes," 35, 76 
 
 Pulteney, William, 71, 78, 142, 168-169, 206 
 
 RADZIVIL, Prince, 222-224 
 
 Raikes, Thomas, 266, 275, 276, 293, 301 
 
 Reynolds, Sir Joshua, 99, 137, 138, 143, 
 
 150, 165-167 
 Rich, the actor, 81 
 Richmond, Duke of, 143 
 Rockingham, Lord, 245 
 Rodney, Admiral, 234, 236 
 Romney, 143 
 Rowlandson, Thomas, 95 
 Royal Register, 96 
 Rumbold, Thomas, 99 
 Rutland, Duke of, 272, 274 
 
 SALISBURY, Marchioness of, 261 
 
 Scarborough, Lord. 60 
 
 Schulemberg, Melusina. Set Kendal, 
 
 Duchess of 
 Scott, General, 234 
 Sefton, Lord, 303 
 Selwyn, Miss Albina, 170 
 , George, 158, 234, 236, 238, 239, 
 
 241, 243. 344 34.5, 246, 347 
 
 berres, Mrs. Olivia, 119 
 
 Sheridan, R. B., 257, 258 
 
 , Tom, 297-298 
 
 Somerset, Lord R., 263 
 
 Sonsfield, Fraulein, 44 
 
 Sophia, Klectress of Hanover (grand- 
 daughter of James I), 16, 27, 28, 29, 34 
 
 , Queen of Prussia, ao, 26, 38, 41-44 
 
 Charlotte, Electres* of Hanover, 16, 
 
 27 
 
 Sophia Dorothea of Zell, wife of George I, 
 
 20-27 
 
 Spectator, 87-88 
 Spencer, Lady Diana, 58 
 
 , Lord Edward, 241 
 
 , Lord Robert, 241, 242, 244, 247 
 
 Stafford, Lord, 187 
 Stavordale, Lord, 234 
 "Stephan, Prince," 220-221 
 Strangways, Lady Susan, 150, 151, 152 
 Suffolk, Lady, 36 
 
 THANET, Lord, 248, 296 
 Thoms, Mr., 132-137 
 Thomson, James, 79, 80 
 Thrale, Mrs., 98, 99, 100 
 Thynne, Thomas, murder of, 21 
 Tierney, George, 161 
 
 UPTON, General Sir Arthur, 286 
 
 VANE, Miss, 56 
 Victoria, Queen, 117, 128 
 
 WAGER, Sir Charles, 67 
 
 Wake, Archbishop, 52, 74 
 
 Waldegrave, Lord, 92, 93 
 
 Walmoden, Madame de, 61, 65, 67, 82, 149 
 
 Walpole, Horace, 12, 50, 51, 64, 77, 79, 83, 
 94, 146, 150, 151, 155, 169, 175, 182-183, 
 187, 189, 200, 211, 236, 237, 238 
 
 , Sir Robert, 12, 18, 50, 52, 54, 56, 60, 
 
 69, 71-72, 78, 142, 147, 168, 197 
 
 Warwick, Earl of, 122, 129 
 
 Wattier's, 293, 295 ; foundation of the 
 club, 296, 297 
 
 Wedderburn, 142 
 
 Wellington, Duke of, 128, 309 
 
 Westmorland, Lord, 158 
 
 Weymouth, Lord, 69, 113 
 
 Whitbread, Alderman, and Beau Brum- 
 mell, 291 
 
 White's, 143, 159, 237, 243, 293 ; foundation 
 of the club, 295, 298, 314 
 
 Wilhelmina of Prussia, 38-39, 40, 41, 42, 
 43, 44, 48 
 
 William IV and Beau Brummell, 312, 
 313-314 
 
 Wilmot, Dr. James, 118, ttseg. 
 
 Wilton, Lord, 267 
 
 Winchester, Bishop of, and Beau Brum- 
 mell, 290 
 
 Wolfenbuttel, Duke of, 24, 53 
 
 Worcester, Lord, 303 
 
 Wraxall, Sir Nathaniel, 97, 99, 100, 142 
 
 Wynn, Sir Watkin, 273 
 
 YARMOUTH, Lord, 273 
 
 York, Edward, Duke of, brother of George 
 
 III, 93, 125, 126, 183 
 , Frederick, Duke of, brother of 
 
 George IV, 248, 267 283, 286-287 
 , Duchess of, her favours to Beau 
 
 Brummell, 288-289, 303, 306, 309 
 
 Richard Clay & Sons, Limited, London and liunfay.
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
 
 Los Angeles 
 This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. 
 
 o 1961 
 
 Form L9-32m-8,'57(.C8680s4)444
 
 A 000 951 000 
 
 DA. 
 
 486 
 
 B66i