COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. VOL. I. COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS OR LONDON UNDER THE FIRST GEORGES 17141760 BY J. FITZGERALD MOLLOY IN TWO VOLUMES. VOL. I. LONDON: HUKST AND BLACKETT, PUBLISHERS, 13, GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET. 1882. All rty/its re.se.rvtd. Stack Annex M TO ANDREW COMMiNS, ESQ., B.L., LL.D., M.P., THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED. PREFACE. TN the following pages an attempt is -*- made to give a reliable and, it is to be hoped, interesting picture of the manners, habits, and morals of the English Court under the reign of the two first Georges, and of the society brilliant, witty, re- markable which revolved around and too faithfully followed these royal models. As far as possible, the dry and already well- known facts of the politics of this period have been omitted, and are only referred viii PREFACE. to in cases where they have direct bearing on the personages and scenes described. No incident has been mentioned, no statement made, without authority, though as much as possible the reader has been spared the ungrateful task of conning notes and references ; and where it has been found admissible, descriptions are given in the language of the original nar- rators or of eye-witnesses. Much pains have been taken to give the characteristics of every prominent person- age as faithfully as possible ; and for this purpose I have searched at length, not only through the biographies and works of the period, but likewise through the newspapers, pamphlets, ballad-literature, and that mine of treasures to be found in the manuscript diaries and correspondence of the era, preserved in the library of the PREFACE. ix British Museum, which contain most valu- able, reliable, and, so far as I am aware, hitherto unused information. I have to acknowledge with gratitude the extreme courtesy and ready assistance afforded me in my researches by Mr. Richard Garnet and Mr. Anderson of the British Museum Library ; and, finally, to hope that what has been to me a ' love's labour' may not, through want of public interest, be 'lost.' J. FITZGERALD MOLLOY. London, 1882. CONTENTS OF THE FIKST VOLUME. CHAPTER I. Queen Anne's Illness Political Agitation A Jacobite Council The Queen's Death The Announcement made to the new King Earl Dorset's Message Sophia the Electress The King's Carelessness per- ceptible Lady Mary Wortley Montagu's Opinion of him He leaves Hanover Lands at Greenwich The City prepares for his Arrival His Entry into London Appearance of the City The King at St. James's Eejoicing of the Mob ... 1 CHAPTER II. The King's first Visit to England in 1680 Proposal for Queen Anne The King's Character His Ignorance of the English Language His Coronation Change in the Feelings of the Mob Anecdote of Baron Poll- nitz The King visits the City on Lord Mayor's Day Entertained at the Guildhall Conduct of the Lady xii CONTENTS. Mayoress Eulogies on the King Bitter Words Pamphlets and Ballads of the Period The King's Heedlessness of Praise or Abuse ... 28 CHAPTER m. Pictures of the Period The Fashionable Beaux Their fine Speeches Their Courtesy, Dress, Love of Wit, and Repartee Carelessness of Politics Jack Spencer and his Brother An Afternoon in Town At the Play-houses The Masculine Beau Exhibition at the Tennis Court in St. James's A Riot in Lincoln's Inn Fields Theatre Rich, the Manager The Ladies of the Period On the Mall 48 CHAPTER IV. No Queen on the English Throne The King's Marriage to Sophia Dorothea Madame Platen and her Plots Madame Schulenburg Count Kbnigsmark His Tragic Death George Augustus obtains a Divorce Sophia Dorothea's Imprisonment and Death The King's Mistresses Madame Schulenburg created Duchess of Kendal Madame Kilmansegge The Ladies of the House of Platen German Favourites at the English Court Madame Platen the Younger 65 CHAPTER V. Avarice of the Royal Mistresses and Favourites Count Broglio's Letters to the French Court The King's Answer Robethon and Bothmar Mustapha and MahometThe King's View of his New Possessions CONTENTS. xiii Public Ridicule The Civil List Economy of the Hanoverian Court Public Indignation and its Ex- pression The Mob and its Conduct Unpopularity of the Germans Club formed to Protect the King from Insult Wreck of a Mug-house Attempt to Shoot the Prince and King Rebellion in Scotland . 98 CHAPTER VI. The Court in Queen Anne's Reign Changes under George I. Drawing-rooms at St. James's Some Courtiers The King's Daughter, Melesina Lord Lincoln's Free- dom with the King The Duchess of Shrewsbury's ' Extraordinary Discourse ' The German Beauties and Lady Deloraine Madame Tron and Madame Robe- thon Lady Mary Wortley Montagu How she be- came a Toast The Princess of Wales The Duchess of Bolton's slips of the Tongue The King's love for Richmond and Hampton Court The Drury Lane Company plays there Royal Diversions . 121 CHAPTER VH. His Majesty's ' most dear Son ' His Character, Tastes, and Opinion of Literature The Princess of Wales Her Talents and bitter Tongue How she Governed her Husband The King visits Hanover Unwillingness to make the Prince, Regent The King at Hanover The Prince affects Popularity His Majesty's Uneasi- ness and Return to England Royal Displeasure Scene at the Christening of the Young Prince Its Consequences 148 xiy CONTENTS. CHAPTER VIII. Leicester House Court and its Brilliancy Lord Chester- field's Wit and Mimicry The Mad Duchess of Buck- ingham ' Smiling Mary' Bellenden Lord Hervey and Mary Lapell Sophia Howe Miss Meadows 181 CHAPTER IX. Courtiers at Leicester House Mrs. Howard Her appear- ance She becomes Mistress of the Prince Her Hus- band's Interference Her Position at Court Lady Mary Wortley Montagu at Leicester House Dean Swift as a Courtier ' Assemblies Rage ' in the Town The Royal Children The King's detestation of the Prince Proposal of Lord Berkeley to make away with His Royal Highness His Majesty's Ill-humour Re- conciliation of the King and Prince Sir Robert Wai- pole and his Abilities His Private Life and Power as a Statesman 210 CHAPTER X. London Town under George I. Some Play writers, Poets, and Journalists Tbnson, the Publisher Little Mr. Pope among the Booksellers Some wicked Taverns Gin Shops Coffee and Chocolate-houses Dryden at 'Wills' Addison at ' Buttons 'The < Guardian ' and Spectator 'Clubs and their Origin The Kit-cat and its Members Sir Godfrey Kneller Swift and the October Club The Scribblers' Club Pope's Farewell to Town Lighting of the City Captain Fitzgerald CONTENTS. xv and his Lady-love Dissipation and Irreligion Bill for the Suppression of Vice .... 248 CHAPTER XI. The King's last Mistress Miss Brett's Parents The King's Departure His Superstition Curious Pro- phecy regarding his Death Miss Brett gives a sample of her Authority The King's Death The Duchess of Kendal Stories circulated after the King's Death The King's Reign a Proem to the History of England under the House of Brunswick His Character Story of him told by his Turkish Valet His sympathy with those imprisoned for Debt George I. as a Husband, Father, King, and Man 292 CHAPTER XII. The King is Dead : God Save the King Sir Spencer Compton Walpole's Diplomacy The Court at Leicester House The Queen's favour to Walpole Lady Wulpole at Court His Majesty's Subtlety The Civil List fixed' Bustle of the Bees ' 303 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. CHAPTER I. Queen Anne's Illness Political Agitation A Jacobite Council The Queen's Death The Announcement made to the new King Earl Dorset's Message Sophia the Electress The King's Carelessness per- ceptible Lady Mary Wortley Montagu's Opinion of him He leaves Hanover Lands at Greenwich The City prepares for his Arrival His Entry into London Appearance of the City The King at St. James's Rejoicing of the Mob. TTvURING the last days of July, 1714, Queen **' Anne of blessed memory lay dying in Kensington Palace. These were troubled times in England, for the ministry and the nation were alike divided in opinion as to whether James Stuart, called the Pretender, or George Lewis Guelph, the Elector of Hanover, should sit upon VOL. I. B 2 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. the British throne. Now Queen Anne hated the House of Hanover, and, though secretly desiring the restoration of her brother, yet she was too staunch a Protestant and too timid a woman to openly aid him by any decisive act ; and a like hesitation, begotten of her example, actuating the Stuart adherents, the nation looked forward to ominous times and prepared for civil war. But a month before the good queen had offered the respectable sum of five thousand pounds for her brother's ' apprehension, dead or alive, if he were found in Great Britain or Ire- land.' Now, however, when death drew near, some feeling of remorse seemed to have touched her, and she lay writhing in mental and physical pain, calling out, ' Oh, my brother, what will become of you ? Oh, my poor brother !' Cabinet councils were held in the ante-room almost within ear-shot of Her Majesty, where some stormy scenes were enacted; agitated crowds gathered in the streets; the lovers of peace prayed for her recovery at the daily services set St. Paul's ; and in the City, stocks rose at the rumours of her death and fell again at those of her recovery. Still she lingered, and the A DYING QUEEN. 3 Privy Council sat night and day waiting for her death. When at last she became insensible, it assembled in the royal bed-chamber, crowded with grave physicians, weeping women, and disconsolate favourites. The queen lay deaf and blind to all that went on around her ; all hope that her life would be prolonged was now at an end, and trusty Secretary Craggs was despatched to Hanover with the tidings that Her Majesty was dying, and that all things were in readiness for the accession of the Elector, George Lewis Guelph. In a small chamber opening off the queen's, three gentlemen, all true Tories and staunch Jacobites to wit, Lord Marischal, the Duke of Ormond, Captain-General of the army, and my Lord Bishop Atterbury held secret council. Lord Marischal and the bishop, who saw that the cause they espoused was in great danger, sought to make the duke go boldly forward and proclaim James Stuart King of England ; but His Grace of Ormond lacked courage, and pro- posed that they should first consult the council, to which proposal my Lord Bishop replied stoutly, 'Damn it, you know very well that B2 4 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. things have not been concerted enough for that yet, and that we have not a moment to lose.' The moment however was lost, "the upholders of the Stuart cause made no movement. On Sunday morning, August 1st., Lady Masham, once waiting-maid, now peeress, announced that the queen was dead, and the tolling of the bell of St. Paul's proclaimed the fact to the silent and expectant throngs that filled the streets. Two messengers were sent from England to Hanover with the news of Her Majesty's death, the one to the new king, the other to the Earl of Clarendon, English Envoy Extraordinary. When the courier despatched to the noble earl arrived in hot haste at his destination, he found that my Lord Clarendon was enjoying himself at a little supper given by a lady who had a repu- tation for two excellent things in their way beauty and pleasure. My lord was immediately sent for, and on arriving home saw the courier, who handed him the despatches announcing the important news, and bidding him recognize George Lewis, Elector of Brunswick-Lune- burg, Hanover, as his king; whereon the earl, whose temper was not improved at being rudely 'SO GREAT A DIADEM.' 5 called away from his supper, and, moreover, at learning that the Stuart house, of which he was a kinsman, had seemingly lost all chances of re- storation which its adherents had hoped for, got back into his coach and drove with all speed to Herrnhausen, where His Electoral Highness was comfortably snoring in bed, all unconscious of the new honours which had suddenly fallen upon him. However, the Envoy Extraordinary dared on this occasion to disturb His Highness's sacred slumbers just as, thirteen years afterwards, Sir Robert Walpole ventured to rouse the Prince of Wales from his afternoon nap for the purpose of conveying a like intelligence. My Lord Claren- don entered the Elector's bed-chamber at two o'clock in the morning, and, falling upon his knees on the floor, told him, as Baron Pollnitz informs us, that so great a diadem was fallen to him ;' after hearing which George Lewis turned on his side, and slept soundly until the next morning. The following day brought the Earl of Dorset to the Court of Hanover, who announced to the new king that the English nation waited with 6 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. impatience to place the crown of Great Britain, France, and Ireland on his head ; and to inform him that his accession had been received, and his title proclaimed, with an unusual appear- ance of joy and satisfaction ; which statements,, though not quite true, probably sounded well to the little Elector who had suddenly become,, in the words of his English subjects, ' A high and mighty prince.' It will always remain an historical doubt if George Lewis seriously cared for the royal honours thrust upon him. He had passed his fiftieth year; he had acquired settled habits, which the duties of his new dignity, taking him among a people of whom he kneAv little, would necessarily interfere with : moreover, he had been very comfortable in his native Han- over, which he always preferred to England, or indeed to any other spot on the globe. He was suiTOunded by a court which was no better than it should have been, and by a people who had learned to care for him, notwithstanding that he levied heavy taxes on them, took little trou- ble to aid or elevate them, and was not dis- inclined to play the despot when opportunity THE NEW KING. 7 offered. He was a dull man and a lover of peace, and, in his native city, his days passed by in placid monotony. He held a 'drawing- room ' daily at his court, which was numerously attended in obedience to his desires ; his palace was capable of accommodating a much larger number of courtiers than St. James's ; his opera house was much finer than that of Vienna ; per- sons of distinction from other courts and coun- tries frequently passed through Hanover, and stayed to pay him their respects ; he had a company of French comedians to amuse him, and a seraglio of fat and ugly women ; he knew nothing of the cares and responsibilities of a great state, and, altogether, his electoral city unto him a kingdom was. Nature had given him but little ambition, and that little his love of ease and sensuality had completely destroyed. In early life he had done some soldiering, had killed some dozens of Turks, and fought under King William at Steenkerke and Landen ; but on the death of his father he had returned to paths of peace, drank, slept, and gambled a great deal, and passed most of his time among the daughters 8 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. of his nation, who have been described as having, * literally, rosy cheeks, snowy foreheads and necks, jet eyebrows ; to which may be added coal-black hair, all of which had a very fine effect, especially by candle light.' His election as king was solely founded on the choice of the majority of Parliament ; the reason for which was because he professed the Protestant religion. Admitting the male line of the House of Stuart to have ended in James II., the 'right of blood' rested in the House of Savoy, through Henrietta, Duchess of Or- leans, daughter of Charles I. So that more than fifty persons, whose claims were nearer than that of the Elector, were quietly passed over. His mother, the clever Sophia, Electress of Han- over, was the youngest daughter of Elizabeth, Queen of Bohemia, sister of Charles L, and grand- daughter of James L, of England. Had Sophia survived Queen Anne, she would have been the first of the Hanoverian line to reign over Eng- land. At one period of her life she was a thorough Jacobite, and, during her cousin James's exile in St. Germain, kept up a secret correspondence with him. However, when her AMBITIOUS SOPHIA. 9 chance of succession became apparent, she, with remarkable rapidity, changed her mind. When the act of settling the succession on her and her house had passed, the good Lords Hali- fax and Dorset were sent to convey the news to the Electress. A day was appointed for the formal announcement, and Sophia received the peers with great ceremony. After delivering their credentials, the set speech was commenced announcing the high honour falling to her, when Sophia gave a start, and getting up, ran to a corner of the room, fixed her back against the wall, and stood there erect and stiff until the audience ended. My lords were too good courtiers to appear surprised at such a seeming piece of eccentricity, but were human enough to betray some curiosity afterwards, when they learned from one of the electoral household that Sophia had started on catching sight of a picture of the Pretender, and had run across the room and stood before it in order to hide this counterfeit presentment of her kinsman, lest they should see and feel offended by its presence. Poor soul ! she never lived to have her ambition gratified, as she died about six weeks before 10 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. Queen Anne. I could die nappy,' she used to say, ' if I could only live to have engraven upon my coffin the words : " Here lies Sophia, Queen of England.'" It was due to her influence that her son look- ed forward to his ultimate succession, but, she being removed, his indifference became percep- tible. It has been stated that, if any signs of disfavour had been made at his proclamation, George I. would never have taken the English sceptre in his hands, but would have stayed comfortably at home to eat, drink, and make merry as usual, and not bother his head about Parliaments and peoples that were strange to him; but no such signs were made, and the English throne was lost to the Stuarts for ever. The late king, I am fully persuaded,' says Dean Lockier, after the death of George Lewis, ' Avould never have stirred a foot if there had been any strong opposition ; indeed, the family did not ex- pect this crown ; at least, nobody in it but the late Princess Sophia.' In a letter written by Marshal Schulenberg to Baron Steinghaus a few days before the queen's death, he gives a clear testimony to the king's feelings on the subject in these words : * It is quite evident that George A COURTIERS OPINION. 11 is profoundly indifferent to the result of this question of the succession. Nay, I would even bet that when it really comes to the point he will be in despair at having to give up his place of residence, where he amuses himself with trifles, in order to assume a post of honour and dignity. He is endowed with all the qualities adapted to make him a finished nobleman, but he wants all those that are necessary to consti- tute a king.' That remarkable woman, Lady Mary Wort- ley Montagu, who was one of the attractions of the first George's court, gives her opinion of the king, whom she had many opportuni- ties of studying, in this graphic sentence : ' He was more properly dull than lazy, and would have been so well contented to have remained in his little town of Hanover that, if the ambition of those about him had not been greater than his own, we should never have seen him in England ; and the natural honesty of his temper, joined with the narrow notions of a low education, made him look upon his acceptance of the crown as an act of usurpation which was always uneasy to him.' After a month's delay the new king, almost 12 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. unwillingly, left his beloved Hanover with tears in his eyes, accompanied by his mistresses, having left the comforting assurance to his sub- jects that it would not be long before he visited them again. With such evidence as already mentioned of his reluctance to visit his new kingdom it cannot be wondered that he received the addresses of Parliament with a calmness truly Teutonic, which at the same time surprised my good Lord Dorset. That of his most dutiful and loyal, subjects, the lords temporal and spiritual in Parliament assembled, assured His Majesty that with thankful hearts to Almighty God they congratulated him on his peaceful and happy accession to the English throne, that with all their zeal and affection they would maintain the dignity of his crown, and with thankful hearts they besought His Majesty to give them the favour of his royal presence speedily, which they were persuaded, good, trusting, faithful lords that they were, ' would be attended with all other blessings.' The address from the House of Commons followed suit, and, if George Lewis under- stood a word of it, he must have been vastly BY THE HELP OF AN EAST WIND. 13 amused for lie was a man who enjoyed a good joke when he was assured 'His Majesty'sprince- ly virtues gave them a certain prospect of future happiness.' Without signs of joy or elation, he had pre- pared to visit the people who were represented as giving utterance to these endearing terms ; but the solemn coolness he preserved did duty for majestic serenity. Meanwhile, the Regency had the pleasure of announcing to the people 'that His Majesty was hastening over to em- ploy his utmost care for putting these kingdoms into a happy and flourishing condition.' And so it happened that the royal yachts and a squadron of men-of-war were sent to Holland to convey the king to his people. His Majesty, and a numerous suite of Germans, em- barked on board the yacht Peregrin, that, by the help of an east wind, which some wag after- wards said was never favourable to the English people was wafted to Albion's shore. The king was met at Gravesend by a thick English fog, which not only prevented his landing, but denied him the sight of his new kingdom. The yacht moved slowly up to Greenwich, where he landed,, 14 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. and where the lords, spiritual and temporal, came in great force, and knelt down and kissed the right royal hand of His Sacred Majesty, who had been wretchedly sea-sick during the voyage, and whose temper and appearance had by no means been improved by the malady. Here came the loyal citizens likewise, trooping in large crowds from London; all anxious to see their future king, and to exercise their vocal powers in shouting huzzas. Cannon thundered, bells clanged, crowds cheered as the monarch landed, but in the midst of the excitement he remained calm and self-possessed as a German, or a sphinx, wishing that these good people who shouted at him would go their ways, and leave a poor old man, who had done nothing in the world to cause such enthusiasm, in peace. But the good people would not go their ways just then, and when they did, after shout- ing themselves hoarse, they repaired to the * Ship Tavern,' where a right royal subject, re- joicing in the name of Thomas Sweetapple, had given notice in the press some weeks before that, * On the night His Majesty King George arrives, I will give to all loyal subjects a hogs- A ROYAL CHURCHWARDEN. 15 head of the best French claret to drink His Majesty's and the royal family's health, at the dock on the back side of the said " Ship Tavern," at eight o'clock precisely. Where also will be a bonfire, all sorts of nmsick, c.' His Majesty had landed on Saturday, and the next day the good citizens came down to Green- wich in still greater numbers to inspect their king. An old newspaper informs us, ' There was an infinite crowd of spectators at Green- wich to see His Majesty and the prince, who were pleased to expose themselves for some time at the windows of their palace, to satisfy the impatient curiosity of his loving subjects.' It may seem somewhat singular that the first honour these loving subjects sought to confer on George Lewis was that of electing him a churchwarden. Yet we have it 011 the authority of the London Magazine for September, 1787, that ' George I., when landing at Greenwich, Avas elected churchwarden. It became a mat- ter of dispute whether a king could be a church- warden, and it was debated in the Privy Council for two months. The Archbishop of Canterbury declared, " he cannot be both," but that he can 16 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. take his choice, and his crown again after he had served.' Meanwhile, the City prepared to receive its king, who was to enter in great pomp and state. No voice was raised against him, who had been styled, 'The saviour of his people.' The earl marshal issued his orders for the direc- tion of the procession; concerning which the following curious advertisement appeared in the Flying Post : 'Whereas, pursuant to an advertisement in last Thursday's Flying Post, several senior gen- tlemen, with their own natural white and grey hairs, resolves to do themselves the honour to ride in a body before King George on white steeds when His Majesty makes his glorious entry through this honourable city. These are to give notice to all gentlemen either in town or country, whose hairs are of the same com- plexion, and who are desirous to attend in the same body, that they furnish themselves with white horses and white camlet cloaks ; and, as for those who have none of their own, 'tis not doubted but other loyal gentlemen, though not qualified by the colour of their hair to ride in SUCH SENIOR GENTLEMEN. 17 the venerable body, will so far favour the design as to send their white horses and cloaks to the landlords of the following inns, who will be careful to return them safe and to pay the horse hire. ' NOTE. That such senior gentlemen now in town, so qualified and disposed for the appear- ance, are desired to meet next Friday at Lloyd's, which was formerly Bead's coffee house, within Ludgate, in order to consert the best methods for managing the affair. God save the King.' On Monday, September 20th, 1714, the king made his entrance into London. As early as two o'clock on that September afternoon, which had all the brightness of a summer's day, the royal procession set out from under the broad boughs of the trees in old Greenwich Park, headed by four of the knights marshal's men on horseback, who were followed by the coaches of esquires, no coach with less than six spanking horses, each one looking as proud as Punch at being permitted to join in the show. Then came the coaches of the knights bachelors with their red and yellow panels, the latter colour, in compliment to the king, being the VOL. 1. C 18 CO URT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. prevailing hue of the day ; these coaches were followed by the king's solicitor and the king's attorney, looking very solemn, and learned, and wise, as befitted their offices and the occasion ; after them the baronets and the younger sons of barons and the younger sons of viscounts, all point de vice and looking mighty smart in their periwigs and bright coloured velvet coats, with their handsome swords ready to jump out of their sheaths at a moment's notice to defend their own or the king's honour, or the honour or cir- cumstance of any person that would give them an opportunity of running each other or anyone else through the body in a neat man-of-quality- like fashion. These same young gentlemen were followed by the grave Barons of the Exchequer, the learned justices of both benches, the Lord Chief Justice, the Master of the Rolls, the Privy Councillors, all grave men and worthy, without doubt. Next came the eldest sons of barons, the younger sons of peers, the eldest sons of viscounts, the Speaker of the House of Commons, the barons and the bishops, full of dignity, of majesty, and of grace likewise ; then the- younger sons of dukes, the eldest sons of mar- A ROYAL PROCESSION. 19 quises, the earls, the Lord Steward of the king's household, my Lords Suffolk and Bindon as exercising the office of Earl Marshal, the eldest sons of dukes, the marquises, the Lord Grand Chamberlain of England, the dukes, the Lord Chamberlain, the Lord President of the Council, the Lord High Treasurer, the Archbishop of York, the Lord Chancellor, then His Sacred Majesty and the prince in a gilt coach big as a state bed, emblazoned with the arms of England, surrounded by his faithful Germans, whose faces were the only homely and familiar objects the royal eye could rest on amidst the unaccustomed glare and pomp of the goodly show : finally the royal carriage was backed up by a troop of Horse Guards and Grenadier Guards. The cannons roar from the Tower when the procession starts, bells ring and clang as if they sought to drown each other's sound, or, not suc- ceeding in that design, to make as much confu- sion as possible. The loyal citizens have come down to see the wonderful sight, and line the fields by which the procession must pass; the boys climb up the trees, and, holding on by the branches, lustily shout out ' God save the King,' c2 20 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. but presently, when the procession is past, they are lost in clouds of dust, just as their loyal voices were drowned amidst the tramping of horses, the roll of coaches, the jangling of spurs, swords, and other military equipments. It is a gay sight this royal procession as it now moves nearer to the good city of London,, and approaches St. Margaret's Hill in Southwark, where the bells sound- more numerous and noisy than those of Greenwich, the excitement is great- er, the crowd more vast ; for here my Lord Mayor and the brave fathers of the City are to meet the king. Sure enough there are waiting already a detachment of the Artillery Company in their new buff coats, and the City marshals and City trumpets right gaily apparelled as became them on this day, and all on horseback, and the sheriffs' officers with javelins in their hands, and the Lord Mayor's officers in their sombre black gowns, and the water bailiff on horseback, so may it please you, carrying the City banner right proudly, and attended by his servant on foot in coloured livery, and all the City officers on horseback, with their servants, in bright liveries, on foot. And there was the king's banner borne by the Com- HIS ROYAL PRESENCE. 21 mon Hunt, with his servant, likewise in livery, and likewise on foot ; and the Common Crier, in his quaint gown, and the City sword-bearer, in his black damask gown and great gold chain, both goodly gentlemen, mounted on brave steeds, and the sheriffs and aldermen in all the splendour of their scarlet gowns, each attended by two servants in coloured livery, and, lastly, the Lord Mayor himself; the great City king, in his gown of crimson velvet, wearing his rich collar and jewel, looking, poor man, rather ill at ease, and perhaps with sundry fears of catching cold running through his mind by reason of having his head uncovered. There he stands, holding the City sword in his arms, with his four servants, in brand new liveries, looking on from a respectful distance as they wait behind; and at either side of him the Garter king-of-arms, and the Gentleman Usher of the Black Rod. When the king arrives at the spot where the City fathers await him, Sir Peter King, the Recorder, reads his fine speech, assuring His Majesty that the worthy citizens ' with impati- ence await for his royal presence amongst them 22 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. to secure those invaluable blessings which they promise themselves from a prince of the most illustrious merit.' Whilst listening to so much eloquence, George Lewis nods his head judici- ously from time to time, though it might as well have been the recitation of a chapter of the Koran in the original, or some verses of a Chinese poem, for all that he understands of it. His Ma- jesty having given back the sword to the City king, the procession moves on again, whilst the trained bands of the city of Southwark and the militia of Westminster and His Majesty's Foot Guards line the streets. The officers of the parishes between Green- wich and London had had timely notice given them to have the king's highway mended and put in fit repair ; and the Justices of the Peace in Surrey, my Lord Mayor of London, and the head bailiff of Wesminster, had hints given them to have the streets through which the royal procession would pass 'well cleiised from soil and filth,' which precautions were by no means unnecessary in those days. On the day of the procession, Old Lon- don presented a splondid sight, but it was A GALA DAI'. 23 not splendid enough to move the king, who went through the routine of the day with an immobility of facial muscle and general placid- ness worthy of a better cause. The great guns boom out as he crosses London Bridge, with its row of quaint shops and houses at each side, and the cannons thunder in St. James's Park in reply. London Town, with its hotels and coffee-houses, its narrow-windowed, high- pitched-roofed houses, its narrow streets, haply unconscious of dull uniformity, its wonderful signs and crooked byways, is dressed up for a holiday, and looks its best in the bright September sunshine. Business is suspended, and all the shops are closed; the windows, balconies, and newly-erected scaffolds are crowded with eager faces that break into smiles and laughter at some action happen- ing in the crowd below, or look with wonder as the procession moves past. From every window and balcony hang bright-coloured stuffs, and rich tapestries, and carpets of many hues ; and all the spectators are dressed in gay colours, orders being given that none should appear in mourning on this happy day. Persons of quality 24 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. are distinguishable by their dresses of silk, satin, and velvet, decked with all the bravery of gold and silver brocade. Flags, banners, and arches cross the streets ; the bells in the city are ringing, the fountains run with wine. At St. Paul's, the boys of Christ's Hospital stand in full force, their blue gowns and yellow stock- ings marking them out from the dingier colours of the mob. The king stops, and one of the boys steps forward, and repeats an oration in good Latin, with which His Majesty was so pleased that he condescended to give the lad the honour to kiss his royal hand. Close by are four thousand charity children, boys and girls, on a raised platform six hundred feet long, all eagerly waiting to catch a glance of His Majesty and the prince, and greet their royal ears with a hymn as soon as the sacred personages come within earshot of the four thousand voices. When the hymn has been sung, the procession moves on again ; there is renewed shouting ; mighty huzzas are sent up from the throats of the crowd, who would shout as loudly to-mor- row, and toss their caps as high in the air for HANOVER HAS WON. 25 King James, if lie would give them as good a show, and as much wine to drink and make merry over. George Lewis leans back in his coach, and wonders to himself why the people should make such a fuss and bother over him whilst there remained fifty-seven heirs to the British throne, most of whom had a far better right than he, and none of them a lesser claim. It was almost eight o'clock in the evening when the king reached St. James's Palace, where again the cannons fired a salute, and the procession broke up. The upholders of the Hanover family have it all their own way to- day, and those who are supposed to favour the Stuarts must keep their tongues quiet and their brains free from hatching plots. The sup- porters of George Lewis are in great glee, and one of them, to wit, Colonel Chudleigh, must call out that one Mr. Allworth, who is a member of the House of Commons, is a Jacobite ; upon which Mr. Allworth, who is in the royal pro- cession, looking as loyal a man as any, is much concerned. When these two gentlemen have seen the king to his palace, nothing will satisfy them but they must fight ; for some words have 26 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. passed between them, and the colonel insists on blood being spilt. So they drive in their coaches to Mary-le-borie fields, and then fight a duel, which ends tragically enough in Mr. Allworth's death. When night came the fun and excitement were by no means over, neither was the ringing of bells, which pealed away as if they had not been at work all through the day, but were now as fresh and noisy as on a wedding morning. Bonfires were kindled, barrels of ale were tapped and emptied with great speed, and bands played through the city. At Spring Gardens, in St. George's Fields, there was 'an extraordinary concert of vocal and instrumental musick, by good masters,' where also a fat ox was roasted whole for the occasion, it * being designed for diversion, and in order to drink the king's health, whom God long preserve.' Illuminations made the streets brighter than day ; fireworks were let off; in St. Paul's Church- yard was the representation of two burning dragons on one side, and on the other the motto * Floreat Civitas,' a spectacle which mightily pleased the mob, who laughed, and cheered, HIS HENCEFORTH. 27 and drank the new king's health, and were as merry as a mob could be. And so George I. came into a kingdom which was to be his henceforth. 28 CHAPTER II. The King's first Visit to England in 1680 Proposal for Queen Anne The King's Character His Ignorance of the English Language His Coronation Change in the Feelings of the Mob Anecdote of Baron Poll- nitz The King visits the City on Lord Mayor's Day Entertained at the Guildhall Conduct of the Lady Mayoress Eulogies on the King Bitter Words Pamphlets and Ballads of the Period The King's Heedlessness of Praise or Abuse. 4 T one time George Lewis had been pro- -*-*- posed as a suitor for the hand of the prin- cess afterwards Queen Anne, and for this purpose had visited England in 1680; but his suit, for some reason or other not clearly known, met with no success. One thing, how- ever, is certain, that the queen heartily disliked her Hanoverian kinsman even to the end of her days, and he never re-visited the kingdom over AN HONEST BLOCKHEAD. 29 which she reigned until she had done for ever with all mortal likes and dislikes. The new king was not calculated to win popularity either by his manner or appearance ; neither was he in the least degree refined, digni- fied, or graceful, and consequently he was with- out any of those fascinations proverbial to the rival claimant to the throne. In stature he was below the middle height, and inclined to corpu- lency, his face mild and dull of expression, with little pretension to good looks; in disposition slothful, gross, and avaricious ; in manner placid, without indications of much intelligence, and usually inclined to be affable. * In private life he would have been called an honest block- head,' writes Lady Mary Wortley Montagu, * and Fortune, that made him a king, added nothing to his happiness, only prejudiced his honesty and shortened his days.' He was ignorant of the English language, and scarcely understood a word of what his new subjects were saying around him. All conversations with his Prime Minister, Sir Robert Walpole, were carried on in Latin, the king knowing no English, and the Premier neither German nor French, so that Wai- 30 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. pole used to say he governed the nation by means of bad Latin. Even when George had spent years in England his knowledge of the language spoken by his subjects was almost as limited as on the first day of his arrival. Once when on his birthday his little grandson William, afterwards Duke of Cumberland, came to visit him, he asked the boy at what hour he rose. ' When the chimney-sweepers went about,' answered the prince. ' Vat is de chimney- sweeper?' asked the king, whereon his grand- son, opening wide his eyes, said, reproachfully, ' What, have you been in England so long and do not know what a chimney-sweeper is ? Why, they are like that man there,' pointing, as he made this supplementary remark, to Lord Finch, who was remarkable for his dark complexion. In consequence of this ignorance, which he was too slothful or stupid to overcome, he never attended the consultations of his ministers, and hence arose what Earl Grey declared to be * the highly beneficial practice of holding cabinet coun- cils without the presence of the sovereign.' James Stuart, shortly after the proclamation of the new king, referred to George Lewis Guelph IGNORANT OF THE LAWS. 31 as ' a foreigner, ignorant of the laws, manners, customs, and language of England'; and Mr. Shippen, daring to hint at the same truth on one occasion in the House of Commons, was carefully- locked up in the Tower. It was little less than a burlesque to declare that this ignorant, selfish old debauchee was, by G-od's grace, King and Defender of the Faith. This latter title he adopted just as he would have assumed that of Cousin to the Moon, had it been the fashion of the inhabitants of these happy isles over which he reigned to bestow the like on their monarch. He had, in reality, no religious belief of any kind, and never defended the faith by any particular act in his life. Indeed, he belonged to a house that entertained broad and convenient views regard- ing religious creeds and forms, as we may judge from the fact that when a certain French courtier advised the Electress Sophia to bring up her daughter in the Roman Catholic faith, that most sagacious woman replied her daughter had no religious belief just then, and what form it would take must totally depend on her future husband's views ; and this liberality of the king's 32 COURT LIFE BELOWSTAIRS. mother was fully equalled by his father, Ernest Augustus, Elector of Hanover, and Bishop of Osnaburgh, Avho built a church for such of his subjects as professed the Roman Catholic faith, and said that although he Avas too old to alter his creed, yet a change might prove beneficial' to his house. One, at least, of his sons took this hint, and died a rigid Roman Catholic. For days after his triumphant entry into the City the new king was presented with addresses from the corporations of towns all over Great Britain, whose names he had never heard in his life, and which he could not pronounce to save his head. He assured his people that he ' took them kindly,' with which flattering avowal they were completely satisfied. Then came his coronation. Lady Cowper, who saw the ceremony from the pulpit stairs, which she was forced to mount by the great crowd at Westminster Abbey, says, ' One may easily conclude this was not a day of real joy to the Jacobites ; however, they were all there looking as cheerful as they could, but very peevish with everybody that spoke to them.' She noticed in particular at the cere- MY LADY DORCHESTER. 33 mony my Lady Dorchester, who had been mis- tress of James II., by reason of which she had been raised to the peerage, and who was con- sequently loyal to the Stuart cause. ' My Lady Dorchester stood underneath me/ writes this eye-witness, ' and when the arch- bishop went round the throne demanding the consent of the people, she turned about to me and said, " Does the old fool think that anybody here will say no to his question when there are so many drawn swords ?" ' On the day of his coronation the king saw Lord Bolingbroke for the first time, that wily time-server, who had plotted with might and main against the accession of George Lewis, having before sought an opportunity of present- ing himself to the king in vain. Shrewd old George, seeing a face in the crowd which he did not recognize, asked his name when he came in turn to pay His Majesty homage, and Lord Bolingbroke, hearing him as he went down from the throne, turned about and made three profound bows, which the king took for what they were worth. George Lewis had never before seen such an assemblage of bishops and VOL. L D 34 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. divines, of peers and peeresses, statesmen, minis- ters, and soldiers. His stolidity was for once disturbed at the sight of such a concourse, and he declared, when the ceremony was over, that it ' reminded him of the Day of Judgment.' The loyalty of the mob, which had been so enthusiastic on the king's entry, now suffered a change ; on this day there were riots in several places, affronts were offered to the king, and voices had been heard shouting 'Damn King George !' The roughs and vagabonds were skilfully plying their trade and reaping a rich harvest from the crowd, and during the next week the Post Boy and the Daily Courier had many advertisements for articles stolen, for which, as was the habit of the times, the owners offered rewards and pledged themselves ' to ask no questions.' A blue cloth cloak, several watches and seals, a * silver-hilted sword, with a black string and japanned about six or eight inches long on the blade,' which disappeared * on the north side of the choir, east of the organ loft,' a silver snuff-box, with an agate lid and a picture in the inside, gilded within, a 'brown wig ty'd at the bottom,' were some of the A THIEVES 1 HARVEST. 35 articles stolen in and about Westminster Abbey during the ceremony of the coronation. But perhaps the most daring act was the robbery from Westminster Hall, concerning which the following notice appeared in the papers for a considerable time : ' Whereas, several pieces of plate, as dishes, trencher-plates, knives, forks, spoons, and salts, together with pewter of all sorts, table-linen, and several other necessaries which were pro- vided and iised in Westminster Hall at His Majesty's coronation feast on Wednesday the 20th inst. (October) have been feloniously taken away from thence and are yet concealed, all persons who have any of His Majesty's goods of what sort soever in their custody are hereby required forthwith to bring them to Whitehall, and there give notice of the same at His Majesty's Board of Greencloth, upon pain of being prose- cuted according to laAv ; and if any person or persons shall there make discovery of any such of His Majesty's goods, so unlawfully detained by any person whatsoever, they shall be well rewarded for the same.' Baron Pollnitz, who was, it would seem, rather D2 36 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. given to gossip, says : * I was told there was only one person, and that was a woman, who refused to own George I. for king, and that this happened upon the very day of the coronation, when a champion, armed from head to foot, entering into the banqueting-hall, and, accord- ing to custom, challenging any person whatso- ever who did not acknowledge the Elector of Hanover as King of England, that lady threw down her glove, and with a very ill-timed effrontery made answer aloud that James III. was the only lawful heir of the crown, and that the Elector of Hanover was an usurper.' But this story, though pretty, is doubtful, as no con- firmation is given of it in any of the chronicles of the time ; indeed, it may possibly have been an exaggeration of my Lady Dorchester's words. Little more than a week after the coronation,, came the Lord Mayor's Day, when His Majesty received an invitation to the great civic ban- quet to meet the city fathers, who made vast preparations for the event. The king had never seen the Lord Mayor's Show, and in order that he might witness the sight in all its glory he, with the Prince and Princess of Wales, and a A GOODLY SHOW. 37 retinue of many wondering Germans, took up his position in Cheapside, opposite Bow Church the king sitting under a canopy of crimson velvet, with the princess on his right hand and the prince on his left, and the three young prin- cesses grouped in front, like a royal group in a waxwork exhibition. A goodly show was my Lord Mayor's proces- sion; the citizens had a holiday to enjoy the sight in common with their king, and a right merry day it proved. The house from the bal- cony of which the royal party witnessed so much civic magnificence belonged to an honest Quaker, whom the king, being in a gracious mood, and a little anxious to exercise some of the functions belonging to his royal office, offered to knight ; but he of the Society of Friends mildly shook his head, would not go down before His Majesty on bended knee, and declined the proffered honour. When the show was over, the sheriffs came in a body and con- ducted the royal family to the Guildhall ; the new Lord Mayor, William Humphreys, kneeling at the entrance, presented the king with the City sword, who gave it back to his good keep- 38 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. ing, whereon his City majesty rose up and con- ducted the goodly company to the Mayor's Court, and thence into the long gallery, where were present a great number of ladies, who had been bidden to the feast, and whom the king saluted, after which the royal family went to the Hustings Court, where they placed them- selves beneath a canopy, and His Majesty, being a gallant man, called out that the Lady Mayoress should sit at the same table with him. T.he- members of his suite, with the members of the Privy Council, the principal ministers of State, the foreign ministers, the judges and sergeants, occupied several tables in the hall. Then the Lord Mayor, having the honour to present the first glass of wine to King George, his excellent Majesty drank it at one gulp, and, smacking his royal lips, looked round to see whom he could knight, supposing, as the Daily Courant observed, * that some one should be presented.' The hall was hung with rich tapestry for the occasion, * there was a fine concert of musick ' in the gallery, and the banquet was ' the most sumptuous and best ordered that has ever been seen, and the whole company declared an entire JY0 ROYAL KISS. 39 satisfaction.' The Lady Mayoress was weighed down by pomp and state, and a black velvet dress with a train of many yards. It had been the custom for the queens to kiss the Lady Mayoress when royalty accepted civic hospital- ity, but her late Majesty of blessed memory had broken through the time-honoured custom, and there Avas much speculation as to whether the Princess of Wales would follow Queen Anne's example, or give the royal kiss. My Lady Mayoress was in nowise anxious to forego the ancient privilege, and advanced towards the Princess with much ceremony and expectation ; but the royal salute was not given, and my Lady Mayoress waxing indignant, called aloud for her train-bearer and her bouquet, by way of exhibit- ing the brief authority with which she had been newly vested. Perhaps she would have had the honour of feeling the royal lips brush her cheek, but that some mischievous spirit told the Princess and the king that the Lord Mayor had borrowed my lady for the day only to help him to do the honours proper to the occasion ; and they could only be persuaded afterwards that this was not the case by the consideration that, if he had bor- 40 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. rowed her, he would have made a better selection. About eight o'clock the royal party left the Guildhall. A great crowd had assembled to see them drive away; and that some violence occurred amongst the mob can be gathered from this curious notice which appeared in the Post Boy a few days afterwards : 'A man had the misfortune on Friday, the Lord Mayor's Day, to have a violent fall in the entry at Guildhall at eight a'clock at night, after His Majesty was gone from thence. Several boards were beaten down at the end of the entry, and he lost his hat, with a mourning hat-band upon it, his per-wig, and an oaken-stick. Whoever will bring 'em to George Nash, Corn Chandler, in Wood Street, near Cripple-gate, shall receive twenty shillings, or proportionable for either. If they have dis- posed of the per-wig, send him word where, and he will return the money, and give 'em something for their pains ; the wig being of his children's hair.' Though no blows were struck at George Lewis on his arrival, yet sharp-pointed and sure-winged missives were aimed at him and SWEET PHRASES. 41 his family, and his mistresses, aucl his German favourites, and his two Turkish slaves, who had accompanied him to England, and who were attached to his royal person, through the press Queen Anne had created him Baron of Tewkes- bury, Viscount Northallerton, Earl of Milford Haven, and Marquess and Duke of Cambridge. < STA Y Q UIETL Y A T HOME: 1-19 George Augustus was anxious to sit in the House of Lords, and visit the country over which he should one day reign as king ; but Her Majesty by no means shared his anxiety, and was not at all anxious to see him. When the Hanoverian Minister applied to the English Lord Chancellor for a wiit of summons on behalf of the new- made duke, Queen Anne turned a deaf ear to the petition, and subsequently wrote to the Hanoverian Court that it was better for his interests and those of his house that the new duke should stay quietly at home for the pre- sent, which piece of advice the young man was obliged to take. He had never set foot upon English soil until he landed in his father's train, when the Elector was hailed as king. He had shown the world that he had courage, and was a good soldier when he Avas yet almost a boy. At the age of fifteen he had fought with the British troops under the command of the great Duke of Marl- borough, and was present at the battle of Ou- deiiarde, where he behaved gallantly, and had the satisfaction of seeing the enemy's troops routed from the field. At this engagement 150 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. James Francis Stuart, called by some Prince of Wales, by others the Young Pretender, was present with the troops ranged against the Eng- lish. He was then about the age of George Augustus Guelph, and fought with an amount of courage and daring not less than his. So proud was the Hanoverian prince of this victory that for years after it was his good will and pleasure to dress himself on State occasions with the same hat and coat which he had worn on this memorable day. George Augustus was but ten years old when the tragedy occurred in the Hanoverian palace which preceded his mother's banishment. The remembrance of her gentleness and sufferings always remained with him, and the best trait which he exhibited in his long life was his unshaken love for her. Although His Majesty assured the nation in the patent creating George Augustus, Prince of of Wales, ' that his most dear son was a Prince whose eminent filial piety has always endeared him to us,' yet it was well known the king- heartily hated him ; and their public quarrcls,. LIKE FATHER, LIKE SON. 151 a few years later, became the scandal of Europe. In many points the characters of this father and son resembled each other strongly. The odes which greeted the king on his arrival had spoken of the Prince as an ' heir alike to his virtues and his throne ;' but as the former never existed, the Prince could not inherit them by any means. If the king was notoriously im- moral, his son was no better. Macaulay says of the former that ' he loved nothing but punch and fat women,' and his son's tastes in regard to the latter were identical with his royal parent's. In the Prince's person there was not the faint- est trace of that grace which is supposed to be the inheritance of royalty by right divine. He was small and corpulent, and not only common- place, but vulgar-looking. His features were of the heavy Teutonic type, the mouth and chin particularly full, the eyes prominent and dull, with white lashes that gave a weak look to the whole face. To his low stature, which added to the insignificance of his appearance, a humor- ous reference was made in a ballad called ' The 152 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. Seven Wise Men.' Mr. Edgecumb mentioned in the first line was almost a dwarf ; the verse says ' When Edgecumb spoke, the prince Laugh'd at merry elf : Rejoiced to see within his court One shorter than himself. " I'm glad," cried out the quibbling squire, "My lowness makes your highness higher." ' His language was habitually gross ; his manner, not only to those around him, but to his wife, whom he loved to the last in a half brutal Avay, and to the mistress whose supposed charms cap- tivated him, was rude and dogged. In dispo- sition he was thoroughly phlegmatic ; his mind travelled in a dull, sluggish channel, unless when roused by any occurrence touching his immediate pleasures; and this natural heaviness his flatterers pretended to take for philosophic calmness. Underneath this general dulness, a certain shrewdness, oftentimes the characteristic of weak minds, and in his case a hereditary trait, showed itself now and then. He would smile on the noble flatterers about him, making them believe he relied on their honesty, Avhilst he secretly distrusted them ; and so, judging of THE ROYAL HEIR. 153 humanity at large from those who surrounded him, he formed a poor idea of its merit, and believed the only thing worth living for was himself. Throughout his life his vices were of the coarsest order, and were marked by all the scandalous publicity which bad taste could suggest. Not one of the Muses nine found a friend or patron in him ; books he heartily de- tested. Horace Walpole says that he preferred a guinea to a composition as perfect as ' Alex- ander's Feast;' no doubt this assertion is true, for his contempt for verse was occasionally manifested, and Lord Chesterfield adds that he looked on the poet Gay, who for years was a fre- quent attendant at his court, as a mechanic ; and once when this illustrious Prince heard that Lord Hervey had written some poems, he said to him, reprovingly, ' My Lord Hervey, you ought not to write verses ; it is beneath one of your rank ; leave such work to little Mr. Pope.' But, if he had no taste for art, he never pretend- ed to have, a merit which has almost completely vanished in these days of greater civiliza- tion. The only kind of beauty, indeed, which 15* COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. pleased the royal eye was that of woman's form, and before this he bowed down with an admira- tion which some of the same sex, who did not come in for a share of it, freely admitted was blind. His consort was said to have the finest bust of any woman in Europe ; and, by the Prince's desire, there was always as much of it on view as the decorum of those days which was not too narrow would admit. One day when she had become Queen, her not sufficiently dressed Majesty shivered from cold, and her ' good HoAvard,' one of the women of the bed-chamber, who was also a royal mistress, placed a hand- kerchief on the queen's shoulders ; the king view- ing this act with an ill-approving eye, crossed the drawing-room before a tittering crowd of courtiers, and snatched it off, giving at the same time an unkind cut to Ins mistress by asking her aloud, ' Is it because you have an ugly neck yourself you hide the Queen's T He was never open-handed as the day either to melting charity, deserving friendship, or other objects worthy in themselves, save when his immediate pleasure was concerned ; in this way ' HE MIGHT KICK OR KISS. 1 155 strongly resembling many princes and peers, and men of lesser rank, and men and women of no rank at all, who live and have their being in the present day. He had shown great signs of pleasure at the prospect of coming to England, yet he never exhibited any love for the country or the people lie was destined to rule ; and, when called to the- throne, he ran back to his Electorate con- tinually, leaving the kingdom to the charge of his ministers, and stayed in that blissful land as long, and sometimes longer than the Parliament would permit him. Lady Mary "Wortley Montagu, speaking of him, says, after first referring to his 'small understand- ing,' that 'he looked 011 all men and women he saw as creatures he might lack or kiss for his diversion ; and, whenever he met with any opposition in those designs, he thought his opposers insolent rebels to the will of God, who created them for his use ; and judged of tin- merit of all people by their ready submis- sion to his orders, or the relation they had to his power.' His consort, Caroline "\Vilhelmina Dorothea, 156 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. Princess of Wales, was a woman of very dif- ferent parts. Her figure was stately and grace- ful, her face though it could never have been called beautiful, and notwithstanding that it was marked by smallpox possessed a charm that feAv who approached her failed to recog- nise. She had, iu early life, refused the Arch- duke Charles, son of His Imperial Majesty Leopold I., because his merit in appreciating her was more than counterbalanced by his belonging to the Roman Catholic faith, and mar- ried George Augustus of Hanover in preference : and from the day she became his bride to that of her death she loved him as only a much-enduring, gentle, and, withal, forgiving- wife loves ; loved him much better than he deserved, never swerving in her fidelity, though surrounded by a profligate court, in which her husband made wifely infidelity the fashion. Throughout her life she strove to close her eyes to his sins, and to the shame which he cast upon her ; and had no words for him but those of tenderness and affection in return for his oftentimes brutal roughness, cruel humilia- tions, and long neglects. ' My children are not ' A SHE DEVIL: 157 as a grain of sand compared with him,' she used to say, and her conduct through life showed that this was not a mere idle phrase. Her manners had a gentleness that easily gained her friends ; her voice was soft and musical, and there was a dignity and courtesy in her bearing which never failed in impressing even her husband. Mentally her attainments were beyond those usually acquired by royalty in those days. She was a linguist, a lover of books, a student of philosophy and the sciences. She delighted in listening to the controversy of theologians, had an appreciation for wit, and as a conversationalist was one of the most agreeable women at the court. Her good traits indeed were many. With the suffering she had a quick sympathy that prompted her to many generous acts, and her charity to the distressed left her at her death in debt to the king. She had an excellent memoiy for her friends, and, on the other hand, she seldom forgot those who in any way slighted or strove to supplant her power, as many incidents in her life showed. This was the woman whom her royal father- in-law termed ' a she devil ;' which goes to 158 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. show that members of the same family, especi- ally when such members are fathers and mothers- in-law, are not always the best judges of each other's characters ; and it is quite certain that this daughter-in-law by no means deserved the bad language which the king was in the habit of using towards her. Though the Princess had many excellent qualities, it must be confessed she had a sharp- edged tongue ; and though she was much too excellent a wife to favour her husband with any examples of her power in this respect, she did not extend a like clemency to the king or his favourites, but sought in a right womanly manner to repay him for the broken English and guttural German, meaning much nastiness, which he greeted her with whenever he was particularly angry. Perhaps her chief and most valuable gift was tact, which from first to last she exercised with wonderful delicacy and skill, not only on those about her, but on her husband especially, over whom she held a strong influence, which would have been lost for ever if he had once suspected its existence ; and this she maintained even whilst WISE IN HER WAYS. 15U his mistresses and favourites sought to govern him for their own purposes. She listened with an air of supreme deference to his counsels, humoured his whims, and managed him so adroitly that he obeyed her wishes, believing them to be dictated by his own mind. When the Prince became king, she and Sir Robert Walpole played into each other's hands. She it was who helped to re-establish the great Minister in his position which he lost on the death of George I. Having implicit confidence in his counsels and power, she would consult with him in private as to what measures the king should adopt ; and, when they had agreed, it was but a question of time for His Majesty to follow the policy they had determined on. Her husband was, of course, as unconscious of this as she desired he should be ; and it was her care that he should retain his blissful ignorance. In this she succeeded well. If she and her royal Spouse were talking, when Walpole came to the king to speak of business he had already arranged with the queen, she would rise up, courtesy, and offer to retire ; when the king would generally bid her stay, saying to Sir Robert, ' You see how 160 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. much I am governed by my wife, as they say I am. Hoh, hoh, it is a fine thing to be governed by one's wife !' ' sire !' she would reply to the pompous little man, ' I must be vain indeed to pretend to govern your Majesty.' So subtly did she use this power that the courtiers, including the shrewd and clever Dean Swift, did not for years suspect it ; and this churchman blindly sought the favour of the Heir-apparent through his mistress, Mrs. Howard, to whom he seemed to devote more of his time than to his wife. George I. shrewdly suspected the Princess's influence, and on that account gave her a double share of the dislike in which he held his son ; and it was also recognised by the far-seeing Sir Robert Walpole, to whose courage and cleverness the Hanoverian monarchs owed it that they ever sat on the throne, or were allowed to retain the crown. Sir Robert, first through policy, and afterwards through honest friendship, became devoted to her through life. The Princess has been described by one of her own sex as 'having the genius which qualified her for the government of a fool,' but the fact of her exercising that power without its PLAYING AT PIQUET. 161 being suspected or recognised by the man who felt it most, might raise her genius to a higher standpoint. When she landed in England a few weeks after her husband and father-in-law, she was accompanied by the three daughters then born to her. Her entrance into the city was almost private, and it was only at the Lord Mayor's procession that she made her first public debut. A brief description of one of her early appear- ances in the royal drawing-room is given by the Hon. Peter Wentworth, a courtier during three reigns, to whose private correspondence with his brother, the Earl of Strafford, as well as that of other members of the family, we are indebted for much that these pages contain. 'The Princess,' he writes, 'came into the drawing-room at seven o'clock, and stayed until ten. There was a basset-table and ombre- tables, but, the Princess sitting down to piquet, all the company flocked about to that table, and the others were not used. The Duchess of Maii- borough, Lady Pembroke, and the Countess de Pekenburgh played with her. They say we are VOL. 1. M 162 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. to have these apartments every night but Sunday.' It was not until the Prince and Princess of Wales were about two years in England that they came prominently before the public, and then only in consequence of their quarrel with the king. Before this the Prince was little noticed. Lady Cowper makes mention of him now and then in her diary, once to state that he had an intrigue with the Prime Minister's wife, of which both Walpole and the Princess were aware ; and again she gives a glimpse of him on an occasion, when he was ill in bed one morning ' of a surfeit,' and felt no inclination to get up ; then all the ladies of the bed-chamber in attendance on the Princess were called into the room where he lay, and, tables being set for the fair dames, they were made to play with the Prince's fine gentlemen in order to amuse his sick Royal Highness. George I. had not been two years in England when he began to long for the sight of his be- loved Hanover. He had stayed in a foreign country, and ruled over a foreign people for almost nineteen months, and he was already well TIRED OF THE KINGDOM. 163 tired of both. His little Electorate had been always dearer to him and occupied more of his thoughts than the United Kingdom. It was in vain that his ministers reminded him of the unsettled state of the nation, of the danger his quitting England might entail on his newly- established monarchy, and remonstrated with him; but His Majesty, who had never been used to have his royal will opposed or listen to arguments, grew angry at the interference, and gave them to understand that in this respect he would do as he pleased, and ' would not endure a longer confinement in the kingdom.' Sir Robert Walpole, seeing that his advice was so badly received, and had only the effect of placing him in ill-favour with the sovereign, gave way to His Majesty's desire, merely sug- gesting that the Prince of Wales should be appointed Regent in his absence ; whereon His Majesty's sacred brow became a trifle ruffled. One of the causes of this royal father's dislike to his son was on account of the Prince's affection for his mother, and his belief in her innocence. But besides this unnatural reason there were others which gave His Majesty equal offence. M2 16-1 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. The king's mother, the old Electress Sophia, made no secret of the poor regard in which she held his abilities, and of her affection for her grandson, whom she had brought up and helped to educate, though by such bringing up he profited not at all. Then again when the acces- sion of the House of Hanover Avas settled, Queen Anne, who much disliked George Lewis, her once suitor, passed him over in neglect and invested his son with the Order of the Garter. These things, small in themselves, produced a feeling of jealousy in the king's mind which was not lessened by a proposal of the Tory party that an annuity of 100,000 should bo settled on the Prince independently of his father. The king in every way in his power restricted the authority and influence of his son. Though he was nominally a member of the Privy Council, yet he was not permitted to have a knowledge of the secret affairs of State, but that privilege was given privately to the king's mistresses, who used it to the advantage of their own mercenary purposes. Count Broglio writes to the king of France : ' The Prince endeavours to obtain in- formation of what passes from persons who are APPOINTING A REGENT, 165 attached to him, but he learns nothing either from the king, the Duchess, or the ministers.' With such feelings existing in His Majesty's mind, he received the suggestion as to the regency with bad grace ; as for the Prince, when he became aware of the king's determination to visit Hanover, he at once looked forward with pleasure to the honour which awaited him, and eagerly anticipated the sense of importance and freedom it would give him. This gave fresh offence to His Majesty, and he hesitated in aUowing him to become Regent unless he was subject to the closest restrictions. He demanded that the Prince should dismiss the Duke of Argyle from the appointment of Groom of the Stole. His Majesty believed that the Duke exercised an influence over the Prince, and made a point of him leaving his service ; and His Royal Highness was obliged to consent, though he believed the demand was made merely for the purpose of thwarting him. Then the king sent one of his German favourites to state that it was his royal wish other persons should join the Prince in his regency, to which the ministers replied that ' on a careful perusal 166 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. of precedents, finding no instance of persons being joined in commission with the Prince of Wales, and few if any restrictions, they were of opinion that the constant tenor of ancient prac- tice could not conveniently be receded from.' Yet His Majesty was not satisfied ; he could not well oppose his ministers from making the Prince, Regent, but he was determined to shear him of as much of his glory as possible by merely appointing him nominally ' Guardian of the Realm and Lieutenant.' The last scion of a royal house who had borne that title was Edward the Black Prince. When at last the question of the regency was settled, the king set out for Hanover, accom- panied by the two Turks and his two mistresses, without whom he was as unwilling to travel as they were to let him out of their sight. Probably they had some lurking fears that, if they re- mained behind the king's most excellent Majesty, they might meet with some unpleasantness from the Prince, who detested them, and from his friends, who, of course, shared his opinions. The Prince could say disagreeable things sometimes, and never cared to spare his father's mistresses. 'A BAD REPUTATION.' 167 A report of some words he had once made use of reached Madame Kilmansegge, and she, with tears in her great round eyes, went to the Princess to complain that His Royal Highness had said in court she had intrigued with all the men in Hanover. The stout creature's immacu- late character was so injured by such a statement that she declared her acquaintance had cut her, and as a proof that she was at least without stain and above reproach, if not beyond the reach of suspicion, she said her husband had taken pains to vindicate her character, and thereupon drew from her pocket a testimony of her strict faithfulness as a wife, signed by her deserted but lenient spouse. The Princess, who shared her husband's dislike to Kilmansegge, who had caused much misery to the unhappy Sophia Dorothea, laughed in the royal mistress's face, and told her ' it was indeed a bad reputa- tion which rendered such a certificate necessary.' The king was mightily indisposed in crossing over to his beloved Electorate, but as soon as he reached Hermhausen, his summer residence, all things went smoothly with him. During his absence, his Hanoverian Court had continued its 168 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. ceremonies and gaieties by his desire. His grandson, Prince Frederick, resided there, and received the same attention and the same attendance as George Augustus had before he became king. On His Majesty's return the little court became more brilliant. A Drawing-room was held every evening, and the king and his courtiers walked about the lamp-lit gardens of Hermhausen in the cool summer nights. Here he forgot the wrangling of parties which divided his kingdom, the anxieties of his ministers, and the hard truths which the press then beginning for the first time to assert itself said of him. Lord Peterborough, who went to see the king here, told Mr. Clavering that His Majesty was so happy * he believed he had forgotten the acci- dent which happened to him and his family on the 1st of August, 1714.' At home all things went well. When the king was at a safe distance, the Prince set about making himself popular, a task never difficult for a prince to achieve. The first advantage which he possessed was his understanding and speaking, though not fluently, the English tongue; another, fully as great, was the influ- A GRACIOUS PRIXCE. 169 ence of his consort. All those who could not bask in the sunshine of His Majesty's favour now rallied round the Prince; the former was old and a trifle dull, and but little pleased with his English subjects, who were unable to convey to him the gracious sentiments they would have him believe they felt ; the latter was young and gay, and took pains, not only to be civil, but courteous to all. So his praises were loudly song. The Prince and Princess moved to Hampton Court, where his friends and courtiers soon fol- lowed him, and where much splendour and gaiety was kept up. The Prince had never been seen in such an amiable light, and his gracious- ness became the wonder of the court. He dined publicly with the Princess daily in her apart- ments, and every morning they, with the maids- of-honour, generally went on the water in barges finely carved and gilt, hung with crimson silk curtains, and covered to the Avater's edge with scarlet cloth, when the maids would sing glees and ballads to please the Prince's ear, or chatter away during the pleasant hours of the summer days. In the evenings they went to the bowl- 170 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. ing-greeu, when not only the maids, but the woman of the bed-chamber, with the ladies and gentlemen of the court, played games and made merry. Then when they were tired they walked in the quaint gardens until the grey darkness of the summer nights came, when they went in- doors to supper or cards, or perhaps to dance till midnight. It was a pleasant, careless life, full of that robust enjoyment familiar to our ancestors a couple of hundred years ago. Here, too, came the ministers, who were as anxious to please the Prince as he was anxious to please them : and the result of this mutual amiability was that the liberal measures passed during the Mug's absence were attributed by the people to the Prince. My Lord Townsend, Sir Robert Walpole, and Count Bothmore were often to be seen at Hampton Court during the regency. The latter had been ordered by the king to keep watch on the court during- his absence, and report all that passed to him. Another friend of the king's, who was frequently here, was my Lord Sunderland, who was sent to Hanover by the Ministry to persuade the king to return, after His Majesty had been ab- HIGH WORDS. 171 sent some months. Before he went, he must take leave of the Piincess, who had begun to take a share in the direction of politics and politicians, and for this purpose went to see her in the great gallery. In the course of his conversation with her, some difference of opinion arose, probably as to what messages he should bear to the king, which led to high words. AVhereon the Princess asked him to speak low, as the people in the garden below could hear him ; when he cried out, roughly, ' Let them hear.' To which answer she returned : ' Well, if you have a mind, let them ; but you shall walk next the windows, for in the humour we both are, one of us must certainly jump out at the window, and I am resolved it shan't be me.' To increase his popularity, the Prince resolved to visit the provinces, at the mere prospect of Avhich the ancestors of our country cousins were almost beside themselves with joy. When the royal progress was made through Kent, Sussex, and Hampshire, the good people got drunk as lords from the gladness of their hearts, and lit bonfires, and rang church bells, and made 172 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. long speeches ; for never in their time had there been such occasion for general merriment. Indeed the Prince became so popular that news of it must reach Hanover, and destroy the peace of His Sacred Majesty during the hours he passed with Madame Platen. His Royal Highness found it pleasant to play at being king, even if only for a little while, and did his best to make his short reign enjoyable to the people, if only to draw a contrast between his own and his father's regime. Lady Cowper hints in her diary that the king intended remaining in Han- over. ' M. Robethon,' she writes, ' says the king- will come back again, which he did not intend to have done if these things had not been arranged ' (i.e., if the Prince had not assumed such power). When, on his departure from London, her ladyship wished him a good jour- ney and a quick return, His Majesty was in mighty good humour, 'and looked as if the last part of the speech was needless, and that he did not think of it.' However unwilling he may have been, back he came to his English subjects in December ; and it was plain to all that whatever jealousy A GATHERING STORM. 173- and dislike lie felt for the Prince Avas now much increased, and that henceforth there must be two parties at St. James's. Though the king gave little outward sign of his feelings, it was evident to the courtiers that a storm was gather- ing in the royal atmosphere, which at any mo- ment might break above their heads. The expected moment was not long in arriving. Shortly after His Majesty's return, the Princess of Wales gave birth to a son, and in due time preparations were made for the royal christen- ing. The Prince had asked the king and his uncle, the Bishop of Osnaburgh, to stand as sponsors, and to this proposal His Majesty seem- ingly consented, but a short time before the ceremony changed his royal mind, and insisted that the Duke of Newcastle should stand as godfather instead of the bishop. His Grace was a man whom the Prince abhorred. It is of this nobleman Lady Hervey, writing years later from Bath, says, " Tis a comical sight to see him with his blue ribband and star, and a cabbage tinder each arm, or a chicken in his hand, which after he himself has purchased at market, he carries home for his dinner.' His Majesty was 174 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. well aware of Ms son's feelings towards the Duke, and the Prince believed it was on account of his dislike to his Grace that he was selected. The king, whose obstinacy to all persons but his mistresses was a prominent characteristic, would hear of no objection to the Duke, and insisted on his standing sponsor. The Prince was therefore obliged to submit to what he considered an indignity to himself and his son, but restrained his feelings as well as he could until after the ceremony was over. This took place in the Princess's chamber. His Majesty, the Duke of Newcastle, and the god-mother stood at one side of the bed, the Prince and maids-of-honour at the other. At the sight of his Grace the Prince's sense of in- dignation was roused, and no sooner was the christening over, and the long had gone out of the room, than the Prince stepped over to the Duke, held up his hand and forefinger to him threateningly, and in a great passion called out to him, ' You are a rascal, but I shall find you,' meaning, ' I shall find time to be revenged.' In a moment all was confusion ; his Grace was THE PRINCE ARRESTED. 175 insulted, the Prince in a fury, the maids frightened. The news of the scene spread like wildfire through the court; those who espoused the king's cause were indignant. His Majesty had never since his arrival displayed such anger as when he heard of it ; he believed, or pretended to believe, that the Prince had said, ' I will fight you,' and had challenged the Duke by such words to a duel almost in his royal presence. He blustered, used strong language, and had the Prince placed under arrest. ' What was my astonishment,' says Mrs. Howard, who was wo- man of the bed-chamber to the Princess, ' when, going to the Princess's apartment the next morn- ing, the yeomen in the guard chamber pointed their halberds at my breast, and told me I must not pass. I urged that it was my duty to attend the Princess ; they said, no matter I must not pass that way.' This disturbance in St. James's caused the wildest scandal, which was increased when the Prince and Princess were commanded to leave the palace, and were obliged to take temporary 176 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. lodgings in Lord Grantham's house in Albe- marle Street. On the evening of the second day after the christening, the Dukes of Rox- burgh, Kent, and Kingston waited on the Prince, by the king's command, for some ex- planation of his conduct ; but these three gen- tlemen found him unchanged in his sentiments towards his Grace of Newcastle. When they asked if he had said he would fight the Duke, he declared he had not. ' But,' said His Royal Highness, ' I said I would find him, and I will find him, for he has often failed in his respect to me, particularly on the late occasion, by in- sisting on standing god-father to my son when he knew it was against my will.' One of the noble lords told him that the offending Duke acted as sponsor merely in obedience to His Majesty, whereon His Royal Highness roundly told him that he did not believe it (for calling- people liars was a royal luxury in which he occasionally indulged), and added that it was the right of all British subjects to choose spon- sors for their children, and that he would allow no one to ill-use him. All of which was earned to the king. ' MOST D UTIFUL SON ' 177 After the visit of their three Graces, the Prince wrote the king a letter, in which he hopes ' His Majesty will have the goodness not to look npon what I said to the Duke in particular as a want of respect to your Majesty. However, if I have been so unhappy as to offend your Majesty, contrary to my intention, I ask your pardon, and beg your Majesty will be persuaded that I am, with greatest respect, your Majesty's most humble and most dutiful son and servant, George P.' To this His Majesty paid but slight heed, and was of opinion that if the intentions of His Royal Highness as to his submission 'were such as were to be expected from a good son, he would not fail to agree to and sign ' some singularly arbi- trary articles which he had had drawn up, com- pelling the Prince to give up his children to his guardianship, and 'not to hold communication with or have in his service any person or persons distasteful to the king ;' to which the Prince formerly declined to submit. Four children, not including the infant whose christening was the cause of the quarrel, were then bom to the Prince and Princess of Wales; the eldest of whom, VOL. I. N 178 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. Frederick Louis, afterwards Prince of Wales, was left behind in Hanover, and never permitted to visit England until his father became king. The three remaining children, Anne, Amelia, and Caroline, who had landed with the Princess, were now claimed by the king, and were not allowed to accompany their parents when they departed from St. James's. The infant, for whom the Duke stood sponsor, died when three months old, and was buried privately in Henry VII.'s Chapel in Westminster Abbey. The town was, of course, vastly diverted by the royal quarrel, and the poetasters hurried to make capital of it, and produced ' An Excellent New Ballad,' a few verses of which can be given without offence. ' God prosper long our noble king, His Turks and Germans all ; A woful christening late there did In James's house befal. ' To name a child with might and mane Newcastle took his way, We all may rue the child was born Who christ'ned was that day. ' His sturdy sire, the Prince of Wales, A vow to God did make, BALLAD OF THE TOWN. 179 That, if he dared his child to name, His heart full sore should ake. ' But on the day straight to the court This duke came with a staff ; Oh, how the prince did stamp and stare, At which the duke did laugh. ' Hereat the prince did wax full wroth Ev'n in his father's hall ; " I'll be revenged on thee," he said, " Thou rogue and eke rascal.' ' The duke ran straightway to the king, Complaining of his son ; And the king sent three dukes more To know what he had done. * The king then took his grey goose quill And dipt it o'er in gall, And by Master "Vice-Chamberlain He sent to him this scrawl. ' " Take hence yourself and eke your spouse, Your maidens and your men, Your trunks and all your trumpery Except your children." The prince secured with muckle haste Th' artillery commission, And with him trudged full many a maid, But no one politician. N2 180 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. ' Then up the street they took their way, And knocked up good Lord Grantham, Higledy, pigledy they lay, And all went rantum scantum. ' Now sire and son had played their part, What could befal beside ? Why, the poor babe took this to heart, Kick'd up his heels and died. ' God grant the land may profit reap From all this silly pother, And send these fools may ne'er agree Till they are at Han-o-ver.' The Prince, when he left St. James's, was deprived of his usual guard and all signs of distinction ; and an announcement was made in the Gazette, that all those who paid their respects to the Prince would not be received at court. This notice caused considerable alarm to the courtiers, who had now to decide whether they should make friends with His Majesty or the Prince ; many of them were more eager to secure the favour of the coming king than that of the reigning Monarch, who was too closely surrounded by foreigners to admit the near approach of his English subjects. 181 CHAPTER VIII. Leicester House Court and its Brilliancy Lord Chester- field's Wit and Mimicry The Mad Duchess of Buck- ingham ' Smiling Mary' Bellenden Lord Hervey and Mary Lapell Sophia Howe Miss Meadows. A FTER a few weeks' residence in Albemarle ** Street, the Prince purchased a house in Leicester Fields for 6,000 from Portman Sey- mour. It had been originally built by the Earl of Leicester, and had on several occasions been let to persons of distinction, such as the Queen of Bohemia, the Prince's great-grandmother, and later on to the French and German ambas- sadors. In Leicester House, situated at one of the corners of the square, the Prince and Princess set up a court of their own, which rivalled that 182 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. of St. James's. The Prince was sufficiently independent of his father. He had an annual allowance of 100,000 from a grateful nation ; and the revenues of the Principality of Wales brought him the sum of 20,000 yearly besides. % With this sum he endeavoured to maintain his dignity. Every morning a drawing-room was held at Leicester House, and three times a week receptions were given which soon be- came famed for their brilliancy and pleasure. It was the aim of the Prince and Princess to become popular, for their popularity was sure to anger the king. The Princess especially neglected nothing that would increase her in public favour, and for this reason overlooked many things objectionable in those who attend- ed her crowded assemblies. Her husband had always been devoted to pleasure, but never more so than now, when Leicester House be- came the attraction of women of beauty and elegant beaux, and of accomplished wits with which the town abounded. The result was the attendance at the king's drawing-rooms became gradually thinner. On the nights when there were no receptions. ' LORD AMONG WITS.' 183 assemblies, or concerts at Leicester House, the Prince and Princess went to balls, operas, and plays ; and gaiety became the established order of the day. That most elegant and dissipated man, Lord Chesterfield, says, in writing to a friend about this period, ' Balls, assemblies, and masquerades have taken the place of dull, for- mal visiting days, and the women are more agreeable triflers than they were designed. Puns are extremely in vogue, and the license very great. The variation of three or four letters in a word breaks no squares, inasmuch that an indifferent punster may make a very good figure in the best companies.' This same courtier was at once feared and liked, sought after and dreaded, because of the sharpness of his wit and the bitterness of his tongue ; and yet it was his aim, as he says, ' to make every man like him, and every woman love him.' He had followed the Prince to Lei- cester House, and was no small attraction at the mimic court. He was one of the gentlemen of the bed-chamber to the Prince, and strongly espous- ed his side in the royal quarrel. This ' wit among lords, and lord among wits,' as Dr. Johnson 184 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. styles him, had a talent for mimicking, and used to entertain the Princess with specimens of his talents in this respect : ridiculing those who were obnoxious to her, and with the same ease imitating her when her back was turned. She often became aware that she was the object of his ridicule, and would frequently, between jest and earnest, warn him not to provoke her. * You have more wit than I,' she would say, ' but I have a bitter tongue, and always repay my debts with exorbitant interest.' At which speech he would smile, deny that he had ever attempted to ridicule her for a lie was nothing to this fine gentleman and, when she had turned away, would mimic her once more for the amusement of the maids-of-honour. Then the Princess, seeing the smiles of those around her,, would turn hastily and catch the courtier trying to compose his features and assume a look of tranquil innocence. The Princess, though she feared him, would laugh heartily over his excellent mimicries of others, especially when it extended itself to Madame Kilmansegge, who was frequently the butt of his wit, and afforded him ample and ' OTHERS BURST: 185 easy scope for ridicule. ' She looks young if one may judge from her complexion,' said the Princess, a little maliciously, speaking of the royal mistress. * One would judge her to be eighteen or twenty.' ' Yes, eighteen or twenty stone,' replied the worthy Chesterfield, with a grave countenance ; and, when the Princess and those around her laughed, he continued : ' The standard of His Majesty's taste, as exemplified in his mistress, makes all ladies who aspire to his favour, and who are near the suitable age, strain and swell themselves, like the frogs in the fable, to rival the bulk and dignity of the Ox. Some succeed, others burst!' At this speech all the ladies laugh once more ; and, on the Duchess of Buck- ingham coming into the royal apartment, it is repeated to her, and diverts her vastly ; for her Grace, though hating the Hanoverian family generally, detested the king in particular, and came to Leicester House in the hope of tor- menting him. The eccentric duchess was said to be the daughter of James II. Her mother was the Countess of Dorchester, mistress of that king, 186 CO URT LIFE BEL W STAIRS. who, speaking of herself and the ladies who occupied a like position towards His Majesty, was wont to say bluntly, ' We are none of us handsome, and if we have wit he' (the king) 'has not enough to find it out.' Her Grace of Buck- ingham, the supposed daughter of royalty, was extremely proud of her lineage, in which she implicitly believed, notwithstanding that her enemies declared her father was one Colonel Graham, who in the second James's day was a gay and fashionable young courtier, upon whom my Lady Dorchester looked with favour- able eyes. The Colonel's legitimate daughter bore a strong resemblance to the Duchess, and he used to say, ' Well, well, kings are all power- ful, and one must not complain, but certainly the same man is the father of these two women.' Her Grace, by reason of her supposed descent from one of the royal Stuarts, had during the late reign employed herself in plotting for the restoration of the Pretender, and for this reason had frequently visited Rome and Versailles, travelling, as became the daughter of a king, in great pomp and state. She strove to impress on all the dignity and importance of her self- THE MAD DUCHESS. 187 imposed mission, for which she was laughed at heartily. When abroad, it was her habit to have the boxes of the theatres she honoured with her presence hung with crimson velvet, as if for the visits of royalty ; and, because she was refused the honours due to a princess of the royal blood at the Court of Versailles, she deter- mined never to appear there again. However, all her plotting never had the de- sired effect, though she is said to have offered the bribe of her hand and fortune to Sir Robert Walpole if he would lend her his aid in restor- ing the Stuarts ; but perhaps he considered these of little matter if he lost his head, and so refused the tempting bait as courteously as Cardinal Fleury at the French Court declined her prof- fered advice. When she went to Leicester House she dressed with regal magnificence, and her manner clearly showed she looked upon her host and hostess as people who had been raised from the proper sphere of life in which Provi- dence had placed them. A story is told of her that once, in striving to drive through an enclo- sure of the park private to the royal family, she was informed she could not pass that way, as it 188 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. was reserved for royalty. ' Tell the king,' said the irate duchess, ' that, if it is reserved for royalty, he has no more right to go there than I have ;' and George I., on hearing this, laughed heartily, and gave orders that she was to be allowed to pass through any part of the park she desired. It was her custom, on the anniversary day of her royal grandsire's execution, to draw down the blinds and close the shutters of Bucking- ham House, and don weeds of deepest mourn- ing, in respect to the king's memory. On one of these occasions she sent for Lord Hervey, and gave him an audience relative to the mar- riage of her grandson, then at Oxford, with my lord's daughter. Hervey found her in an apart- ment hung with black cloth, lighted only with wax candles, she being seated on a chair of state, surrounded by her attendants, all dressed in deep mourning. She had a morbid love of funeral pomp and the semblance of woe, which remained with her to the last. When the Duke of Buckingham died, the ceremony with which his Grace's passage to the tomb was conducted was a nine days' wonder of the town ; he, poor STRANGE ECCENTRICITIES. 189 man, had also a love for posthumous state per- haps it was contagious and left the decent sum of 500 for a monument to himself that was to bear an inscription of his own composi- tion, which, however, the Dean of Westminster Abbey did not see fit to have written on im- perishable marble. Later on her only son, Edmund, Duke of Buckingham, dying at the age of nineteen, she had again an opportunity for indulging her fancy ; which indeed she did to an extraordinary degree. She wrote to the Duchess of Marl- borough requesting a loan of the triumphal car which had carried the Warrior Duke to the tomb ; at which request the Duchess was indig- nant, and sent word, ' It carried my Lord Marl- borough, and shall never be used for anybody else,' to which the afflicted mother, never being behindhand with a proper answer, wrote back, < 1 have consulted the undertaker, and he tells me I may have a finer for twenty pounds.' Pope wrote the epitaph, which, after enumer- ating the young Duke's many virtues, ends by stating that he was a saint in heaven. His mother, yet on earth, had a wax statue 190 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. made of him which she dressed in costly fashion, and exhibited in a glass case in Westminster Abbey, as was the custom in those days ; and, being much pleased with the effect, she caused one to be made of herself, which she clad with velvet and adorned with jewels and had on exhibition for years previous to her demise. Before that event took place, she also arranged for her funeral procession, and one day during her last illness, when she feared that death had already come, she called out, ' Why don't they send the canopy for me to see ? Let them send it, though all the tassels are not finished.' And then, poor soul ! her ruling passion being strong in death, she made her ladies promise that, if she should lie senseless, they would not sit down in the room before she was dead. Perhaps the most extraordinary act of hers was her writing a character of herself which she gave to Pope, and pressed him, as he says, ' by all the adjurations of friendship to give her my sincere opinion of it.' He was also requested by her to select out of it as much as he thought true and return it to her. This he did, and, the AN EXCELLENT CHARACTER. 191 extracts being in his handwriting, she passed them off as if written originally by him, and then fell out with him for having objected to some fine passages which her own copy contained. Proba- bly she considered herself a better judge of her mental and physical qualities than the poet. As the character stands, it is perhaps unequalled for its plain terms of its self-appreciation. ' The nicest eye,' it states, ' could find no fault in the outward lineaments of her face or proportion of her body. It was such as pleased wherever she had a desire it should; yet she never envied that of any other which might better please in general, in the same manner as being content that her merits were esteemed where she desired they should, she never depreciated those of any other that were esteemed or preferred else- where. For she aimed not at a general love or a general esteem where she was not known ; it was enough to be possessed of both wherever she was.' This is pretty well of its kind, but her remarks on her mental qualities are still more wonderful. 'Her understanding was such,' says this char- 192 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. acter, ' as must have made a figure had it been in a man ; but the modesty of her sex threw a veil over its lustre, which, nevertheless, sup- pressed only the expression, not the exertion of it ; for her sense was not superior to her resolu- tion, which, when once she was in the right, preserved her from making it only a transition to the wrong, the frequent weakness even of the best women . . . Her heart,' she continues, with exquisite humility, 'was as compassionate as it was great ; her affections warm even to solicitude ; her friendship not violent or jealous, but rational and persevering ; her gratitude equal and constant to the living, to the dead boundless and heroical. What person soever she found worthy of her esteem, she would not give up for any power on earth ; and the greatest on earth whom she could not esteem obtained from her no further tribute than decency. . . . Her love and aversion, her gratitude and resentment, her esteem and neglect, were equally open and strong, and alterable only from the alteration of the persons who created them. Her mind was too noble to be insincere, and her heart too honest to stand in need of it ; so that she never THE DUCHESS WRITES. 193 found cause to repent her conduct either to a friend or an enemy.' Certainly her Grace should have been a happy woman. When George I. died, his successor did not behave so leniently to the Duchess's whims and her talent for plotting against his house. When she was desirous of sending her son, then a boy of twelve, to be educated in France, she feared that such an act might be regarded as an excuse for her visiting that country in order to foster her favourite scheme, and wrote a rather singular letter to consult a friend of some influence. 'In case my son should go to France, to follow his exercises better than he could learn 'em here, whether he may not be seen and examined sometimes. Now Mr. Costa dos instruct him without any hazard of forfeiture to a child. I know his mamma could not have the advantage of hearing her- self his opinions without a forfeiture people would very willingly take. In short, the king has forbid me and my son the liberties we were permitted in his father's (and which con- fines my son from air and exercise in town) reign, and I was no favourite in it. But, by the VOL. I. O 194 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. Duchess of Kendal's means, I had a few com- mon acts of breeding and humanity showed me, that of the same priviledges of the king's park, which I was allowed in Queen Anne's reign .... though I fancy'd myself a sort of favourite of the queen's because I have about ten letters under her hand which flatters me with it ; and many personal assurances besides. I confess I am much tempted to breed my son abroad if I could secure his religion well, and education better, though it makes it impracticable for me to settle as I could wish with him ; yet I could visit him when I was not otherwise employ'd.' Another prominent figure at this court Avas the Duchess of Shrewsbury, already mentioned. She was no favourite with the Princess, and it was only because the king had asked his daughter-in-law three times, that she was appointed to the office she held. One of the fairest of all the ladies at the new court was Mary Bellenden, whom Gay calls, ' Smiling Mary, soft and fair as down.' She had been appointed maid-of-honour to the Princess before the royal quarrel, but her mistress never looked on her with favour whilst she remained in her 'DESPISING DOLEFUL DUMPS: 195 service. Lady Cowper tells us that when she went to court one morning she found the Duchess of Roxburgh was not such a favourite as she had been, and that the Princess re- sented her recommending Mrs. (as was the habit of calling unmarried ladies in those days) Bellenden. The reason was obvious, the hand- some and witty maid-of-honour soon attracted the eyes of His Royal Higness. In the 'Excellent New Ballad ' describing the royal exit from the king's palace, already referred to, a verse is devoted to her : ' But Bellenden we needs must praise, Who as downstairs she jumps, Sings o'er the hills and far away, Despising doleful dumps.' Mary Bellenden did not, however, respond to the Prince's admiration, for the excellent reason that she was already in love with handsome Colonel Campbell, who, long years afterwards, became the fourth Duke of Argyle. They were both wise enough in their generation to keep their love a secret from the eyes of the Prince and the gossiping courtiers, and it was no less sweet for its secrecy. His Royal Highness did o2 196 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. not long hesitate about showing her he was en- amoured of that beauty of which Pope and a host of minor poets had sung, and proceeded to prove his affection for her in a thoroughly gross- and practical manner, quite in keeping with his character. In the drawing-rooms he would follow her about from place to place, undaunted by the plain speeches which she made him with her arms saucily crossed before her. The Prince was a perse vering lover, and one evening sat down beside her and commenced reckoning out the gold Avhich he felt sure would buy her love, glancing at her now and then as he paused in his occupation ; when she cried out, ' Sir, I can- not bear it : if you count your money any more I will go out of the room.' George Augustus, however, had a supreme belief in the omnipotence of gold ; a faith that had probably come to him from experience, and he could not understand how the woman he honoured with his admiration, could be blind to the value of his coin, even if she had the mis- fortune to be so towards his personal attractions. Again he followed her round the drawing-room when opportunity offered, counting out his ON HIS KNEES. 197 money, until one day the high-spirited Bellen- deii suddenly turned round on him, and, knock- ing the purse from his hand, flung his money on the floor, when she beat a hasty retreat, leaving His Eoyal Highness to go down on his knees and pick up his scattered treasure. After this he came to the conclusion that, gold having failed to secure him her affections, they must already have been given in trust to some one else, whose name he sought to find out from her. Failing in this, he extracted a promise from her that she would not many without his consent, and declared, if she pledged her word not to do so, that he would prove a friend to her future husband. She promised him readily enough, but reflecting, probably, that delays are dangerous, especially in courts, .she went forthwith and married her lover, Colonel Campbell, Groom of the Bed-chamber to the Prince, and they kept their marriage secret for a while, both being in a degree de- pendent on their salaries received from the royal household. When they announced that they were man and wife, the Prince was wroth with Mary Bellenden. Being married, she could no 198 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. longer retain her post as maid-of-honour ; but Colonel Campbell, retaining his place, his wife came frequently to court, when George Augus- tus never lost an opportunity of following her round the room, upbraiding her for what he was pleased to call her falsity, and insulting her as far as he dared. It was not until about forty years after his marriage that Colonel Campbell became Duke of Argyle, and meanwhile he and his wife had to manage their limited income as best they could. ' Oh, gad,' she wrote to a friend a few years after her marriage, * I am so sick of bills : for my part, I believe I shall never be able to hear them mentioned without casting up my accounts bills are accounts, you know.' During her life her name was never mixed up with any scandal, as was the fashion in those times. She became the mother of many children, and re- tired from town life in order to devote herself to their care ; one of them afterwards became the fifth Duke of Argyle. In her home in Kent the once beautiful maid-of-honour found em- ployment which rendered her happier than wait- ing in court. ' It is well known to the whole ' AT COURT THE BELLE: 199 country,' she writes, ' that I have four fat calves, two fat hogs fit for killing, twelve promising black pigs, two young chickens, three fine geese, with thirteen eggs under each (several being duck eggs, else the others do not come to maturity) all this, with rabbits and pigeons, and carp in plenty, beef and mutton at reason- able rates.' A contemporary beauty of hers was the viva- cious, brilliant, and equally fascinating Mary Lapell, whose charms were celebrated in verse by Pope, Gay, and Voltaire, and in prose by the fastidious Chesterfield and the satirical Horace Walpole. In an old ballad, supposed to be "written from town to young ladies in the coun- try anxious for news, she is likewise spoken of in connection with the beauty just men- tioned. ' To you it is my ballad comes, To tell you tales of drawing-rooms : What pranks are played behind the scenes, And who at court the belle Some swear it is the Bellenden, And others say La Pell.' Both of these ladies were maids-of-honour whilst in their teens, Miss Lapell, indeed, being 200 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. only fourteen when she was appointed to that post. Both of them shared the doubtful honour of the Prince's admiration, and the coincidence between them was still further carried out in Mary Lapell being privately married, though whether she kept her nuptials a secret for the same reason as her friend it is impossible to say. The object of her choice was Lord Her- vey, afterwards Vice-Chamberlain to Queen Caroline, with whom he was a great favourite. From her husband's parents her union met with no opposition, as may be gathered from some letters of her father-in-law, the Earl of Bristol, written whilst the union was yet unknown to the public, and in which he congratulates her on her marriage, and calls her by ' the endear- ing title of daughter.' When the marriage was made known, it was celebrated by Lord Ches- terfield and Mr. Pulteney in a ballad more re- markable for its flattery than delicacy, which they sent her under the name of a Grub Street poet, one of the class who levied a tax on the great whenever occasion offered ; and she, be- lieving it to originate from the man whose sig- nature it bore, though not admiring its general ' SO POWERFUL HER CHARMS: 201 tone, sent him the usual fee. Only a feAV dis- connected verses can be given of this ballad, which was an excellent sample of its class. Venus is declared never to have seen ' So perfect a beau and a belle, As when Hervey the handsome was wedded To the beautiful Molly Lapell. ' Old Orpheus, the husband so civil, He followed his wife down to hell ; And who would not go to the devil For sake of dear Molly Lapell V ' So powerful her charms, so moving, They would warm an old monk in his cell. Should the Pope himself ever go roaming, He would follow dear Molly Lapell.' Concerning these verses, Arbuthnot says, in Avriting to his friend Swift, ' I gave your service to Lady Hervey. She is in a little sort of a miff about a ballad that was writ on her to the tune of " Molly Mog," and sent her in the name of a begging poet. She was bit, and wrote a letter to the begging poet, and desired him to change the doubles entendres ; which the authors, Mr. Pulteney and Lord Chesterfield, changed into single entendres. I was against that, though I had a hand in the first. She 202 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. is not displeased, I believe, with the ballad, but only with being bit'* The father of this young lady, celebrated whilst yet in her teens in song and story, was Brigadier-General Nicholas Lap ell, who was styled Lord-proprietor of Sark, where his daughter was born, and where probably she in her early years acquired that French polish and manner which distinguished her through life. Lady Louisa Stuart says, in speaking of her, ' By the attractions she retained in age, she must have been singularly captivating when young, gay, and handsome ; and never was there so perfect a model of the finely polished, high-bred, genuine woman of fashion. Her manners had a foreign tinge, which some called affected, but they were gentle, easy, dignified, * Deaii Swift writes to Dr. Tisdall : ' I'll teach you a waj r to outwit Mrs. Johnson. It is a new-fashioned way of being witty, and they call it a bite. You must ask a bantering question, or tell some damned lie in a serious manner, and then she will answer, or speak as if you were in earnest: and then cry you, " Madam, that's a bite." I would not have you undervalue this, for it is the constant amusement in court ; and everywhere else amongst great people; and I let you know in order to have it obtain among you, and teach you a new refinement.' 4 FEMALE CORNET. 203 and altogether extremely pleasing.' She was brilliant as a conversationalist, and generally clever. Lord Chesterfield said : ' She has been bred all her life at courts, of which she has acquired all the easy good breeding and polite- ness without the frivolousness. She has all the reading that a woman should have, and more than any woman need have ; for she under- stands Latin perfectly well, though she wisely conceals it. No woman ever had more than she has le ton de la parfaitement bonne com- pagnie, les manieres engageantes, et le je ne S9ais quoi qui plait.' That this accomplished woman used her talents for a beneficial purpose, we have it on the authority of Sarah, Duchess of Marl- borough, who had, by the way, no great love for her. Her Grace says that, when Molly Lapell came into life, her father made her a cornet in his regiment, which had a salary attached to it, that was duly paid her after she became maid-of-honour ; when, it being rather absurd for her to hold her post in the Army any longer, Lord Sundeiiand obtained her a pension. It was soon after that her courage 204 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. and wit came to her aid, and suggested a scheme which she quickly earned out. Every night she attended the royal drawing-room she made a point of publicly attacking the King's Most Excellent Majesty ; levelling the sharpest darts of her satire at his sacred but vulnerable person, ' insomuch as it was the diversion of all the town.' The boldness of her strokes began to gain publicity; courtiers tittered, and repeated her sallies. Loyalty was not strong enough to withstand amusement at her humour, until at last the Duchess of Kendal and the ministry became alarmed, and deter- mined to purchase her silence, 'lest the king should be put into the opposers' hands.' They therefore gave her a bribe of 4,000, which had the desired effect. The belle became loyal to the reigning dynasty, bought a house, fur- nished it, and proclaimed her marriage. Her union was not one of perfect harmony. Both she and her husband had lived too long at court, and imbibed its tainted atmosphere, to be perfectly spotless, and he at least proved that his principles were as lax as they were fashion- able. PEGGY HUGHES' 'S GRAND-DAUGHTER. 205 A third maid-of-konour, which completes the group of these graces, was Sophia, daughter of General Howe, and grand-daughter of gay Prince Rupert and Peggy Hughes, the actress. Her court career commenced brilliantly enough, though her life ended in darkness and sorrow. Of all the goodly maids to be seen at Leicester House, she was the brightest, most daring, and, it must be said, the boldest. She laughed aloud at church, she jested with more than doubtful propriety, and soiled her lips in the drawing- room with much coarseness. She was fully imbued with the evil atmosphere of her sur- roundings, where the most sacred relationships of life were violated with ease, publicity, and even approval. She freely spoke her opinions on religion and morality with a daring careless- ness that startled, but did not displease the flippant and degenerate throng of men and women around her. Outside the bounds of court and town, Miss Howe was of opinion that life was not worth living. The brilliant circle of fine gentlemen and wits amongst whom she moved, had an attraction for her which, alas, proved fatal. A 206 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. couple of extracts from her letters will give the best clue to her mind and character. Writing to Mrs. Howard from Holt Forest, near Farn- ham, of which her father was ranger, she says, whilst spending a short vacation there, 'You will think, I suppose, that I have had no flirtation 'since I came here, but you Avill be mistaken ; for the moment I entered Farn- ham, a man in his own hair, cropped, and a brown coat, stopped the coach to bid me wel- come in a very gallant way ; and we had a visit yesterday from a country clown of this place, who did all he could to persuade me to be tired of the noise and fatigue of a court life, and intimated that a quiet country one would be very agreeable after it, and he would answer that, in seven years, I should have a little court of my own.' In another epistle she is anxious that Lord Lumley, Master of the Horse to the Princess of Wales, should send a coach to convey her back to the court ; and threatens him, if he does not comply with her wishes, he shall have no more flirtations with her, though, ' perhaps,' says, ' he may be glad of me for a summer ' HANG ME IF I DO. 1 207 suit next year at Richmond, when he has no other business on hands.' Whilst she was yet at Farnham, her grand- mother, Peggy Hughes, died, when the maid- of-honour says, ' The good lady ' (her mother) 'put on her broad-girdled calico gown, and striped night-clothes, to look decent upon the death of her mother ; that frill is a bad omen for me, for she always comes out with some- thing dreadful when she is so adorned. She 210 sooner enters the room, with a face a thou- sand times more pale than you had, but she comes out with a fatal sentence, " that I might take this opportunity of staying here some time longer," but hang me if I do, and, if that coach is not sent, I will come away in the waggon ; that I am resolved upon. One good thing I have got by the long time I have been here, which is the being more sensible than ever I was of my happiness in being maid-of- honour. I won't say, " God preserve me so " neither ; that would not be so well.' At court her beauty and wit attracted Nanty Lowther, Lord Londsdale's brother. This gay young gentleman was without honour or princi- 208 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. pie of any kind, but had all the grace, and charm, and heartlessness, and corruption of a true corn-tier. The brilliant, careless Sophia Howe fell hi love, and left the court with him. Nanty Lowther never married her, and, after a little, the bright, vivacious girl died of a broken heart. In Hanbury "Williams's poem, ' The New Foundling Hospital for Wit,' Brigadier-General Churchill, who was a long-winded gossip that delighted in detailing a bit of scandal, is made to tell the story of the hapless Sophia. ' The general found a lucky minute now To speak. " Ah, ma'am, you do not know Miss Howe. I'll tell you all her history," he cried. At this Charles Stanhope gaped extremely wide ; Dick Bateman hung his head ; her Grace turn'd pale, And Lovell trembled at th' impending tale. " Poor girl ! faith, she was once supremely fair, Till worn by love, and tortured by despair, Her pining face betrayed her inward smart, Her breaking looks foretold her breaking heart. At Leicester House her passion first began, And Nanty Lowther was a pretty man ; But when the Princess did to Kew remove, She could not bear the absence of her love : Away she flew " (interrupted by a footman's knock).' So far as conduct went, Miss Meadows, ano- WITHOUT A HISTORY. 209 ther maid-of-honour to the Princess, was a com- plete contrast to Sophia Howe. Miss Meadows' prudery was a common theme in the court ; and her companion maids-of-honour made merry over her reserve. Pope, who had a word to say about almost every person, and every- thing notable at the time, makes mention of her in a somewhat foolish poem called, ' What is Prudery ?' He answers : ' Tis a beldam, Seen with wit and beauty seldom. 'Tis a fear that starts at shadows ; 'Tis (no 't isn't) like Miss Meadows.' This young lady has left few records of her court life behind ; and, no doubt, what has been said of a nation being happy without a history holds good also concerning a maid-of-honour. VOL. I. 210 CHAPTER IX. Courtiers at Leicester House Mrs. Howard Her appear- ance She becomes Mistress of the Prince Her Hus- band's Interference Her Position at Court Lady Mary Wortley Montagu at Leicester House Dean Swift as a Courtier ' Assemblies Rage ' in the Town The Royal Children The King's detestation of the Prince Proposal of Lord Berkeley to make away with His Royal Highness His Majesty's Ill-humour Re- conciliation of the King and Prince Sir Robert Wai- pole and his Abilities His Private Life and Power as a Statesman. ONE of the most prominent ladies at the Prince's court was Mrs. Howard, whose name frequently occurs in the literature and gossip of the time, and who was perhaps one of the most common-place women that ever figured in court romance or intrigue. She was the daughter of a baronet not very- well-to-do in the world, and, when about twenty SEEKING THEIR FORTUNES. 211 years old, married the third son of an earl, Charles Howard, who was a worthless spend- thrift, with all the expensive tastes of a man of fashion, without his corresponding means. Ear- ly in their married life, perhaps when their love had become a little worn, they began to look about themselves and see what they had best do in order to secure a suitable position. Mrs. Howard was a clever, sagacious woman, qualities which her husband did not share, and it was probably to her the suggestion was due that they should face the rising sun, and go to the Court of Hanover to seek their fortunes. This was whilst Queen Anne reigned, and Sophia the Electress lived. Sophia was, at this time, most anxious to make friends with any of the English nobility, or their connections, who came to her court, and received Mrs. Howard very graciously, presenting her to the Hanoverian courtiers. This was the first step, and Mrs. Howard determined to profit by it. She was wise enough to know, however, that, in order to engage the confidence of friends, it is necessary to appeal to the inner man, especially when the p2 212 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. outer man is a German. She therefore deter- mined to give a dinner to the Hanoverian minis- ters. This scheme was well enough, but the money to put it into execution was not in her purse, nor had she the prospect of receiving any. Her affairs must have grown desperate when she came to the resolution of cutting off her hair, which was of great length and beauty, and selling it to the barber, hair being in those days of full-bottomed wigs a very valuable article. This had the desired effect of pay- ing for the dinner. Soon after she became popular at the little court, where she got an appointment ; and, when George Lewis was de- clared king, she was made Woman of the Bed- chamber to the Princess of Wales. This post she held until her husband succeeded to the Earldom of Suffolk, when she was raised to the office of Mistress of the Robes. Her face was remarkable for a certain serenity of expression and regularity of features which almost gave her a claim to beauty. Her com- plexion was fair ; her hair bright brown ; her figure shapely, and inclined to stoutness. It was not by any personal attractions so much A COURT FAVOURITE. 213 as by the charm of her manner that she won, and was enabled to keep, the friendship of almost every man and woman of distinction that appeared at the courts of the first Georges. She was at once courteous, discreet, kind, generous when opportunity offered, just and truthful. Her conversation was intelligent and sprightly, and her apartments at the palace were continually crowded, not only by the courtiers and wits, but by the men of learning who adorned the age. Horace Walpole, who became her intimate friend when she had retired from court, speaks of her as being ' discreet without being reserved, and, from the propriety of her behaviour and love of truth, preserving uncommon respect to the end of her days.' Archdeacon Coxe hath it that when the Prince made overtures to Mary Bellenden, and was re- jected by that lady, he poured his disappoint- ment into Mrs. Howard's sympathetic ear, and finally became enamoured of her. That she became his mistress was speedily noised abroad, and her husband, hearing of it, came in great haste to St. James's, where, in expectation of some recompense for the outrage done to his 214 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. honour, lie made much ado. One night espe- cially he went in a noisy manner into the quad- rangle, and before the guards and those assem- bled vehemently demanded his wife, for making which request he was instantly turned about his business. Soon after this he addressed himself to no less a personage than the Archbishop of Canter- bury, and besought his Grace to use his spiritual influence and have his spouse restored to him ; whereon the Archbishop wrote a letter to the Princess asking her to comply with Mr. Howard's request, and have his wife sent home to him from court. Mrs. Howard, however, remained where she was, and her husband, still perse- vering in his claim, came to the Princess and declared he would take his wife out of . her coach if he met her in it. Her Royal Highness bid him ' do it if he dare ; though,' said she, in speaking of it afterwards to one of her courtiers, ' I was horribly afraid of him (for we were tete- a-tete) all the while I was thus playing the bully. What added to my fear on this occasion was that I knew him to be so brutal, as well as n little mad, and seldom quite sober, so I did PLAYING THE BULLY. 215 not think it impossible but that lie might throw me out of the window. But as soon as I got near the door, and thought myself safe from being thrown out of the window, I resumed my grand tone, and said I would be glad to see who should dare to open my coach door and take out one of my servants. Then I told him that my resolution was positively neither to force his wife to go to him, if she 'had no mind to it, nor keep her if she had.' Then Mr. Howard said he would complain to the king, but the Princess told him His Majesty had nothing to do with her servants ; ' and for that reason he might save himself that trouble, as I was sure the king would give him no answer, but that it was none of his business to concern himself with my family.' Notwithstanding the haughty tone taken by this complacent wife, it was feared that Mrs. Howard would be seized by her lord and master on the occasion of her going to Richmond when the Prince and Princess were moving there for the summer months. As a woman of the bed- chamber, etiquette did not permit her to sit in the royal caniage during the journey ; she was 216 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. to follow in a coach, when it was thought the attempt to arrest her would be made. To prevent this two of her friends John, Duke of Argyle, and his brother, the Earl of May re- solved to lend her their protection, and early on the morning of the day on which the journey was to be made they called for her in a coach belonging to one of them, and conveyed her to Richmond. A few months later, the Prince en- tered into an agreement with Mr. Howard, by which he consented to relinquish all claims to his spouse for the sum of twelve thousand a year. Whether as mistress to the Prince or king (when George Augustus came to the throne), Mrs. Howard never sought to play a brilliant part, such as might be expected from one hold- ing that position. She was satisfied with the regard of the many friends whom she had the talent of attracting, who treated her with the utmost respect, as if her life were altogether blameless. Outwardly, indeed, her conduct was most proper. Dean Swift, another of her friends, said of her ' that for want of room to operate her private virtues might be folded up and laid by clean, like clothes in a chest, never to be put * MY GOOD HOWARD: 217 on till satiety, or some reverse of fortune, should dispose her to retirement.' Over George Augustus she had no influence, though the courtiers little suspected this, and daily flocked around her. Any power that she sought to obtain was quickly suppressed by the Princess, who never lost an opportunity of thwarting her designs, but in so subtle a man- ner that few suspected the fact. Caroline treat- ed her husband's mistress in public with seeming forbearance and even friendship, and in private with a quiet contempt that must have made her sorely wince. Before the court she was ad- dressed by the Princess as ' My good Howard,' but in the bed-chamber she was made to per- form the most menial offices. In those days it was the custom for the woman of the bed-cham- ber to kneel after presenting the basin to the Princess, and remain in that position whilst she washed her hands. This Mrs. Howard rebelled against at first, and refused to comply with ; but the Princess, who afterwards narrated the story, said to her, ' not in anger, but calmly as I would to a naughty child, " Yes, my dear How- ard, I am sure you will ; indeed you will. Go, 218 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. go ; fie for shame ! Go, my good Howard ; we will talk of this another time." ' The ' good Howard' was conquered, and never sought to rebel again. Afterwards the Princess told her they should be good friends, that she had not expected such treatment from her ' when she knew I had held her up at a time when it was in my power, if I had pleased, at any hour of the day to let her drop through my fingers.' Pope, who was an intimate friend of hers, gives a summary of her disposition in these words : ' She means to do good, and does no harm, which is a vast deal for a courtier.' By Gay and Addison, as well as the poet of Twick- enham, she was regarded with most friendly feelings, and kept up a correspondence not only with these men of letters, but with most of the distinguished personages of the age. Many of the letters addressed to her are curious illus- trations of the inflated epistolary style of the time ; one penned to her by Lord Bristol will serve as a specimen of the general style. ' Tho bel esprit your billet so abounds with,' says his lordship, ' thoroughly shows the man had some sense, who, conscious of the vast inferiority of ' THE WOMAN'S DEAF: 219 his own to yours, would prudently have waved a correspondence (that) must necessarily have exposed his insufficiency to maintain an equal with one whose style, " Like a delicious stream it ever ran As smooth as woman, yet as strong as man." However, since the price we pay for pleasures should be proportionate to the satisfaction they afford us, I am now content, rather than have it discontinued, even to suffer the mortification I shall frequently feel in being so far surpassed in the beauties of diction as well as sentiment by that very woman you most unjustly abuse as simple.' Perhaps one of the reasons which imparted the habitual expression of calmness to her face was her early deafness. Pope, alluding to this, corns a skilful compliment out of her calamity in saying, ' When all the world conspires to praise her The woman's deaf, and does not hear.' If the sex in general were deaf to their own praises, it would be much better for themselves, if not happier for mankind. In writing of her affliction to Dean Swift, she exhibits her charac- 220 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. teristic patience. ' I hear you are melancholy,' she says, ' because you have a bad head. These two misfortunes I have laboured under these many years, and yet never was peevish with myself or with the world. Have I more philoso- phy and resolution than you, or am I so stupid that I do not feel the evil A story hangs by her deafness worth narrating. The surgeon most in favour at court in those days was Cheselden, who must have been after a fashion a clever and adventurous fellow. He happened to have a cousin under sentence at Newgate, whom he was anxious to serve ; and one day, in speaking to Mrs. Howard of her deafness, he said he should like to try an experiment with a condemned convict who was deaf. If the man could be pardoned, he would operate on him for her benefit, and, if successful, the same treatment which had cured him would serve her likewise. Without much trouble, she ob- tained the required pardon ; but no sooner was the convict liberated than Cheselden ceased to speak of the experiment. After a while it came to Mrs. Howard's knowledge that the man whose release she had gained was Cheselden's A BRILLIANT WOMAN. 221 cousin; when the surgeon fell into disgrace at court. The records of her career as the king's mis- tress, and her retirement from court are con- nected with the reign of George II., in treating of which her name will occur again. Lady Mary Wortley Montagu not only went to St. James's, but, contrary to the regulations laid down, also visited at Leicester House, though at the latter court she was not to be seen so frequently, a fact for which the Princess of Wales did not like her the less. It was plain to see that the Prince admired this brilliant and chatty woman as much as his father did. On one occasion, whilst she was at the Leicester House drawing-room, he, with his characteristic bad taste, called his wife's attention to Lady Mary's becoming dress; when the Princess, with that habit of restraint which she had early learnt, replied, with a smile, ' Lady Mary always dresses well.' Probably Her Royal Highness took some opportunity of letting my lady know what she thought of her, a luxury she occasionally in- dulged in ; for, as if in retaliation, Lady Mary left behind her a character of the Princess, in 222 CO URT LIFE BEL W STAIRS. which she describes her as possessing ' low cunning, which gave her an inclination to cheat all the people she conversed with, and often cheated herself in the first place, by showing her the wrong side of her interest, not having understanding enough to observe that falsehood in conversation, like red on the face, should be used very seldom and very sparingly, or they destroy that interest and beauty which they are designed to heighten.' By saying so much Lady Mary has laid the colours too glar- ingly on the picture for a true portrait. Dean Swift also came to the Leicester House court when he returned to England from the country he abhorred, and stayed with his friend Pope at Twickenham. He said in a letter to the Duchess of Queensbury that ' a nameless person had sent him eleven messages before he would yield to a visit.' The ' nameless person ' was the Princess, whom he visited probably on the twelfth invitation. The Dean seems to have been pleased with the result, for he after- wards said that the ' Princess retained her old civility ;' an admission which, coming from him, meant much. Since he had last been to court, ' ONLY TO CHALK HIS PUMPS: 223 he had published his famous ' Gulliver's Travels,' which had found its way to Leicester House as well as elsewhere, and caused a good deal of merriment at the court. The Princess had laughed heartily over the description of the Lilliputian heir who wore a high heel and a low one to his shoes ; recognizing the Prince under the guise of this satire, who was at the time halting between the Whigs and Tories. When the Princess saw the Dean, she, in a humorous way, charged him with writing the book, which had been published anonymously. He answer- ed her evasively, and said the ministry were angry with it ; when she told him that both she and the Prince were well pleased with the ' Tra- vels.' But the Dean was cautious, and did not trust her all in all, and told her, if she liked the volume so well, she might suppose it to be written by anyone she pleased ; whereupon the Princess laughed, and the keen satirist bowed, and they entered into such friendly intercourse that my Lord Peterborough, who was looking on, said to a group of courtiers, ' Swift has now only to chalk his pumps, and learn to dance on the tight-rope, to be yet a bishop.' 224 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. To this minor court came Carr, Lord Hervey, and Charles Churchill, and the pale-faced, melan- choly Lord Scarborough, now in the freshness of his manhood, whom madness, and death, in- flicted by his own hand, were soon destined to overtake, and many other gay young men, who gave the reputation of wit and brilliancy to the Leicester House drawing-rooms. With the ex- ample of the court before it, the town became likewise gay. * Assemblies rage,' says a corre- spondent of the period, ' and there is not a street in the fashionable quarter of the town free from them ; and some spirited ladies go to seven of them in a night, when love and play flourish under such encouragements.' In the summer months the Prince and Prin- cess removed then" court to Richmond, where the Prince had purchased the mansion of the exiled Duke of Ormond for 6,000 from the Commissioners of the Confiscated Estates Court. Richmond Wells, as the place was then called, on account of its springs, which were supposed to possess healthful properties, had become the fashion. Here a large house and assembly rooms were built, where public balls were held THE COURT AT RICHMOND. 225 regularly on Mondays and Thursdays, and bazaars and raffles on the other nights of the week. Then there were pleasure grounds open to the public, and Mr. Penketham, to add to the amusements the place afforded, opened a theatre on the green. This gentleman informed the public that 'he had formerly diverted the quality and gentry in Bartholomew Fair and Mayfair with dolls, and musick, and other de- lightful entertainments,' and he had now settled at Richmond for the season. To Penketham's play-house went the Prince and Princess, with the maids-of-honour and fine gentlemen of the court, to the manager's great delight. Here the royal party witnessed the performance of ' The Busy Body,' and Sir Robert Howard's comedy, ' The Committee, or the Faithful Irishman,' which vastly amused them. Here the Prince's court was as gay as it had been in town, and almost as well attended, for the people of ' quality and fashion ' came to the wells under the pretence of establishing their health, but, in reality, in pursuit of fresh pleasures. But during these years spent in gaiety and VOL. I. Q 226 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. pleasure, the Prince and Princess were not with- out occasional anxiety and disappointment. The king, as already stated, was determined to have control of their three children, and to separate them from their parents, who, of course, rebelled against this decree, and were fearful as to what length His Majesty would proceed against them in revenge. The Prince claimed his children, when the king set the machinery of the law in motion, confident that its decisions would be agreeable to his wishes. Whilst the guardian- ship of the children was in dispute, nothing could be more painful than the grief and sus- pense which their mother felt. She cried night and day, complained bitterly that she had been betrayed, and said, ' I see now how all these things go ; I must be the sufferer at last, and have no power to help myself. I can say since the hour I was born that I have not lived a day without suffering.' Surely it must have been a deep sense of bitterness that called forth this cry. The good Bishop of Norwich was touched by the mother's grief, and went down on his knees and swore that the Princess should have her children, not counting on the king's strength, THE ROYAL CHILDREN. 227 obstinacy, and determination to punish his son and ' cette diablesse Madame la Princesse.' Walpole thought to throw oil on the troubled waters, and advised the Princess to write to the Duchess of Kendal to beg her interference on her behalf, when he said everything would go right in a short time; that the Princess must trust him and her friends, ' who must play their part to serve them, for the king was inexorable if ruffled, and they must seem to submit in order that they may work in an underhand way.' She listened to him patiently, but without much hope, and then cried out, * Mr. Walpole, this is no jest- ing matter to me ; you will hear of me and my complaints every day and every hour, and in every place, if I have not my children again.' Finally the control of the royal Princesses came before the judges for decision. Chief Justice Parker gave it as his opinion that His Majesty had the sole right to educate and manage his grand-children, and that their parents had none but what was in accordance with his wishes. This decision was agreed to by nine other judges, but was strongly opposed by Lord Chan- cellor Cowper with great determination. As an Q2 228 CO URT LIFE BEL W STAIRS. example of His Majesty's sense of justice, it may be mentioned that Lord Cowper, who the king had once said ' was the only man in England who had treated him with good man- ners whilst in his service,' was immediately de- prived of his chancellorship, whilst Chief Justice Parker, for the evidence he gave of remarkable wisdom on this occasion, was soon afterwards created Earl of Macclesfield. The Prince and Princess of Wales never for- gave him, and soon after had an opportunity, which they did not neglect, of avenging the wrong he did them. It was pretty well known then that his lordship was not averse to bribes, and it was better known afterwards that his cor- rupt practices rendered his name a disgrace to the bench. Such a man as this was not, as might be expected, without numerous enemies, whom his dishonesty had injured, all of whom were anxious to bring him to justice. Knowing the feelings in which he was held by the Prince, they soon took courage, and publicly accused him of malpractices, when he was speedily found guilty, and condemned to pay A SHOCKING PROPOSAL. 229 a fine of 30,000. This he succeeded in doing by the mortgage of his estates. The king, however, believing that the Prince of Wales had caused the accusation to be made against him, resolved to checkmate His Royal Highness in his triumph, and promised to pay the fine for the Chief Justice, and actually did so in part, and would probably have paid the whole, but that death set a stop to his generous inten- tions. The king now detested his son more than ever ; for four years he had not spoken a word to him. The Prince's growing popularity, which he took every care to cultivate amongst those who hailed the coming king in preference to incurring his displeasure by siding with the reigning monarch, was bitter indeed to His Majesty. He must have given expression to his hatred pretty freely, or certainly it would never enter into any man's head to suggest a plan pf making away with the Prince. This proposal was, however, made by the Earl of Berkeley, who calmly laid a scheme before the king, in which he offered to take his heir away to America, and, once there, this zealous advocate for His 230 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. Majesty's peace promised that His Royal High- ness should be heard of never more. It is shocking to think that the king should have received such a proposal, and that he could, moreover, have retained the man who made it in his favour, and allowed him to continue in his service as First Lord of the Admiralty. After the king's death, the new queen, in searching a cabinet belonging to him, discovered the paper which boldly made this proposal of making away with her husband. Lord Berke- ley was beyond reach of the king's arm, and he lived for the latter part of his years and died abroad. It is worth noting that one of his ancestors had been guilty of a deed somewhat similar to that which he proposed to accomplish, inasmuch as one of the Lords of Berkeley had lent his aid to the murder of the first Prince of Wales of the Plantagenet House. During his long quarrel the Prince was never seen at court ; but the Princess went occasionally to beard the lion in his den, and when His Majesty was surrounded by courtiers, always anxiously on the watch for some new item of gossip or some fresh scandal, she would make a point of 'so OUT OF HUMOUR: ssi addressing him, when the king was obliged to make her an answer. Count Broglio says in his correspondence, ' For some years past the king has not spoken a word to the Prince, nor the Prince to him. The Princess of Wales sometimes in public attacks the king in conversation ; he answers her, but some, who are well apprised that His Majesty likes her no better than the Prince, have assured me that he only speaks to her on these occasions for the sake of decorum.' The royal quarrel at length began seriously to affect the nation. The upholders of the reign- ing dynasty felt that the scandal reflected on their choice ; whilst the Jacobite party were delighted to see how badly the king and his heir agreed, and came to have strong hopes that a house which was divided against itself could not stand. Disloyalty became more common daily, and Lord Sunderland said ' the king was so out of humour about the quarrel, that if the Pretender were in England he could cut them all down.' There were other things, however, to make His Majesty feel rather ill at ease about this time, one of the principal of which was that he 282 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. had exceeded the liberal grant of the civil list by 550,000 ; he therefore determined to call on the Parliament to raise some measure which would pay that sum, and out of this scheme arose the infamous South Sea Company, which served His Majesty's purpose in more ways than one ; as Horace Walpole assures us, it ' helped to settle the Hanoverian line on the English throne by diverting the national attention from the game of faction to the delirium of stock- jobbing.' When this bubble, which Lord Cowper said ' was contrived for treachery and destruction,' burst, steeping the nation in misery, the king, good-humouredly, said, 'We have very good luck ; we sold out last week.' He then left the kingdom when it was disturbed to its centre, and remained in Hanover until Walpole had devised some means of soothing the public mind. Before proposals were received to lessen the debt already referred to, it was deemed advisa- ble by the ministry to heal the royal quarrel if possible. The friends of both king and Prince were anxious that a reconciliation should take ' BOUND HAND AND FOOT: 233 place ; but His Majesty remained obstinate and would not listen to such a proposal. His temper became so bad that the courtiers ' did not dare address him.' Lord Sunderland, however, ven- turned to speak to him on the subject, when he replied, angrily, ' Did you not promise to bring me the Prince bound hand and foot ? And don't you bring him back without my having power to put any one servant in or out about his person.' The Prince was not eager to submit to His Majesty, but after a while was prevailed upon to write him a letter ; some words in this were taken objection to, but he refused to withdraw them, and matters stood still for a time. ' The resentment of the king,' says Archdeacon Coxe, * was carried to such an extremity that, with a view to embarrass his son, he formed a resolu- tion of obtaining an act of Parliament to com- pel him to resign his German dominions 011 his accession to the throne. With this view the opinion of the Lord Chancellor Parker, afterwards Earl of Macclesfield, was demanded, and a conference held to consider the legality and expediency of the scheme. The answer 234 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. given by the Chancellor fully put a stop to the measure as inexpedient and impracticable, and liable to be followed by very dangerous conse- quences.' Meanwhile, the eldest of the royal children took ill, and her mother, who was only allowed to see them once a week, on every Sunday night, now sent and asked the king leave to see her daugh- ter. Permission was given through one of the Turkish slaves, Mahomet, who said the Princess might visit, but she was not to bring either a doctor or physician with her. When she arriv- ed at St. James's she was much alarmed to find her daughter had smallpox ; and she came back- wards and forwards every day whilst the illness lasted, staying from eleven o'clock until three, and from six to eleven. The young Princess was seriously ill, and continued in danger for some time. One day, when the Princess was going to St. James's as usual, two letters from the Arch- bishop of Canterbury were put into her hands ; one directed to herself, the other to Lord Sun- derland, then in high favour with the king. The latter had been brought in by mistake ' VOYEZ QUEL HOMME: 235 of the messenger, but no sooner did Her Royal Highness see to whom it was addressed than she determinedly broke the seal, and read it. Her curiosity was rewarded. She learned that the Archbishop requested permission of his lordship to visit Leicester House as often as he was sent for without troubling him again, as he might soon be sent for ' to do his duty by the afflicted mother.' His Grace's letter to the Princess simply expressed his desire to wait on her. The former letter she sent back to the messenger with word that she had opened it by mistake, a statement strictly untrue ; then, turning away, she said, 'Voyez quel homme.' On St. George's Day, 1720, the Prince was induced to write another letter to the king, more submissive than the first ; and this was borne by Lord Lumley, the Master of the Horse, to His Majesty,, The result was that a private message was sent by the royal father to his son, who immediately called for his chair, and had himself conveyed to St. James's. On his way, he met the Princess in Pall Mall, who was returning from her child's sick-bed. She was 236 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. surprised to see him, and, thinking that he might have heard ill news, she stopped and asked him where he was going, when they had a few words of consultation on the hoped for recon- ciliation. When he went to the palace the Prince saw his father for about five minutes, when he made many apologies for the great grief he had caused His Majesty, but the king was so disturbed and excited that he could only stammer out ' votre conduite, votre conduite, sir.' The audience was not satisfactory to either of them, but it was an indication to the court that the long-standing quarrel had been patched up ; in further token of which, the Prince was ac- companied by the royal guard when he returned to Leicester House. Great rejoicings followed the event. As the Prince took his way between the Beefeaters, the people in the streets shouted, and at night Leicester Square was filled with the carriages of those who came to congratulate him. When Lady Cowper wished the Prince joy, he kissed her right heartily in the presence of his wife, who laughed, and cried out, ' I think you two always kiss upon great occasions.' A POETASTERS LAY. 237 The poetasters burst into song over the royal reconciliation, each rivalling the other in saying the finest things in the most pompous sentences, and all striving to earn a few shillings from their court patrons. Says one of these bards : ' So now our great, august, heroic prince Pays low his mighty sire obedience, Both gloriously united firmly stand, Ev'n faction dies within a factious land. Though late with clouds o'ercast this happy isle, Britain and Europe now begin to smile. Though fogs and mists obscure our hemisphere, The noble planets now again appear. The sun which long behind a cloud concealed Was lately, shines with radiant beams revealed. A Caroline at St. James's seen, Great is her virtue who is beauty's queen ; A prince whose wisdom in retirement shown, I dare presage the future times shall own Will make him glorious on a British throne ; At this each loyal breast with transport beats, Gives thanks to heaven, and the great joy repeats.' But for all the fine things said on the occa- sion, the reconciliation was by no means thorough. When the king and Prince after- wards met, they neither exchanged words nor glances ; nor could His Majesty be induced to see the Princess for some time ; when he did it 238 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. was at a private interview, during which he angrily told her it was all owing to her that the Prince had not behaved himself. The first night on which a drawing-room was held at St. James's after the peace there was a vast crowd of the friends of both the king and Prince, who crushed their way to see how the royal actors would go through their perform- ance.- Lately at the king's drawing-room there had been a very poor attendance, for St. James's had grown dull as the Leicester House parties grew brilliant ; and sometimes there were only half a dozen ladies in the royal apartments to delight the king's gaze ; but on this occasion every room was full. When the Prince and his friends came in, the king took no notice of them; nor did His Royal Highness or his clique make any advances towards His Majesty, but retired to the lower end of the drawing-room. It was rather a comical than an impressive sight. The charming Duchess of Shrewsbury, who had come in the Prince's train, was not at all satisfied with this state of things, and made bold to address the king's most excellent Majesty ; but, there being none so deaf as those who will not LIKE CAT AND DOG. 239 hear, the king proved very bothered indeed on this occasion. But the Duchess, being a woman of determination, resolved to be heard, and said, in a whining voice, ' Je suis venue, Sire, pour faire ma cour, et je la veux faire.' By-and-by Walpole comes to the Prince and asks him to send a polite message to the king, but the Prince, who could be as stubborn as his father, refused to comply with the minister's wishes, whereon that wily man said, if he would not, he would frame such a one as was fit for him to send, and deliver it in his name. Speaking of that memorable drawing-room, Lady Cowper says : ' The whole thing looked like two armies drawn up in battle array ; for the king's court was all at the top of the room behind the king, and the Prince's court behind him. The Prince looked down, and behaved prodigious well. The king cast an angry look that way every now and then, and one could not help thinking 'twas like a little dog and a cat whenever the dog stirs a foot, the cat sets up her back, and is ready to fly at him. Such a crowd was never seen, for not only curiosity, but interest, had brought it together.' Though 240 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. the Princess was not present on this night, a short time afterwards she went to court, on the occasion of the king's birthday. A passage in the diary just quoted from, says : ' In the morn- ing we waited on the Princess at court, where was one of the greatest crowds I ever saw. At night we all went in the same train. The Duke of Newcastle (Lord Chamberlain) had got drunk for our sins ; so the Princess's ladies had no places, but stood in the heat and crowd all the night. The Duchess of Shrewsbury downright scolded aloud about it, and he told her for conclusion, that places were provided for the Princess's family, which they did not keep, but that ladies of the town came and took them. 'Twas not his fault, and he could not turn out the ladies of the town for us. There was so great a crowd, and we were so ill-used, that four of us went away, and left only Lady Dorset in waiting. It was plain we were to be used thus; and I am almost tempted to think it was also one of the doughty articles of recon- ciliation.' The Prince continued to live at Leicester House, where his court was maintained, and ROBERT WALPOLE. 241 where his drawing-rooms were not less brilliant than before. Walpole, who held considerable influence over the king, was the principal agent in bringing about this patched-up peace be- tween the royal father and son. When His Majesty landed in England, Walpole, who had shown his zeal for the House of Brunswick during the agitation which disturbed the last months of Queen Anne's reign, was appointed Paymaster of the Forces, whilst his brother-in- law, Lord Townsheud, was made Secretary of State. Some changes being made in the ministry in the following year, he was ap- pointed First Lord of the Treasury and Chan- cellor of the Exchequer. His position was one of extreme difficulty. A large percentage of the Parliament, the country, and even the courtiers, were Tories and Jacobites ; the king was a foreigner to the language, habits, and manners of the nation, and had surrounded himself by a band of Hanoverians, who sought to influence him and rule for their own benefit ; so that it was only by the most skilful policy and sound judgment that the minister con- VOL. I. B 242 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. trived to steer clear of the quicksands which beset him, and save his country from the dan- gers of civil war with which it was threatened. This he did unaided by the king, and closely hampered by the royal favourites ; and during the years that he afterwards filled the same office, he, by his wise counsel, his moderation, his easy good-humour, his ready forgiveness of foes and faithful remembrance of friends, his tolerance, his steady resistance to injustice, governed England with an ability and faithful- ness which she had rarely known before. He had but little love for court life, save where it was connected with the affairs of state ; and in dealing with those he could adopt an address which was not only persuasive, but al- most irresistible. When he could make good his escape from the business of his office, he threw care to the winds, and, with the vivacity of a schoolboy out for a holiday, went down to his beagles at Richmond, or to enjoy some rural sport at Houghton, the family seat of the Wai- poles. In private life he was convivial, delight- ed in coarse humour, and no man better enjoyed a hearty dinner, or a bottle of good wine. At ' LE GROS HOMME: 243 heart he was always more of a country squire than a great statesman ; and no matter how the tide of politics ran, when his despatches were brought to him, his gamekeeper's letter was the first which he invariably opened. His appear- ance was florid and cheery, his figure tall and burly ; in general aspect he resembled a gentle- man farmer of strong sporting proclivities. In later life he became corpulent, a fact which caused George II. to style him ' le gros homme.' In dress he was exceedingly simple, and in dis- position as gallant as the most immoral beau of that licentious age. He cared not at all for reading or writing, but his keen intellect quickly fathomed men's minds, and his knowledge of humanity was great ; nor did he entertain a high ideal of it. ' Few men,' he once said, should be ministers, for it let them see too much of the badness of mankind.' Perhaps the most remarkable trait in his character was his determination, which gloried in steering through difficulties and over- coming opposition ; and probably no better clue to his thoroughness can be found than his saying, If I had not been Prime Minister, I B 2 244 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. should have been Archbishop of Canterbury.' When he reached his twenty-fourth year, he married Catherine Shorter, the daughter of a Kentish squire, who was one of the most beauti- ful and clever women of the day. Her manners were charming and vivacious ; her conversation witty, and she soon became one of the attrac- tions of the court. Her fascination, if she sought to exercise it over her husband, was not, however, sufficient to keep his fancy from straying to fresh maids and faces new ; and, in a few years, she found herself neglected by him, but surrounded by courtiers who, when her hus- band was in power, found a double attraction in her presence. The great minister took little care to conceal his amours from his wife ; and she, either from indifference, or because it was the fashion of the times, gave him but little trouble on the subject of his conjugal unfaithfulness, satisfying her- self with the admiration of the courtiers in general, who invariably flocked about her, and of Can*, Lord Hervey, eldest son of the first Earl of Bristol, in particular. This courtier was said, by those who were well versed in evil WHO WAS HIS FATHER? 245 ways, to be the father of Horace Walpole, who afterwards became a celebrity. To give colour to this statement, it was noticed, as the boy grew up, that in appearance, manners, and dis- position he was strikingly like the eccentric race from which he was popularly supposed to spring, and unlike Sir Robert Walpole, who treated him with marked neglect until such time as his natural cleverness became apparent at Eton, when a friend of the family remarked that, 'whether the lad had any right to the name he went by or not, he was likely to do it honour.' Lord Townshend, who was called, ' one of the most unblemished statesmen and respectable gentlemen of the age,' was closely connected with Walpole's administration. He had taken for his second wife Dolly Walpole, his col- league's sister, who was remarkable for her personal beauty. The Walpoles and the Towns- hends had for generations been friends and neighbours, and this strengthened the bond which bound the statesmen for many years of their lives. When, in 1717, Lord Towns- hend resigned, Walpole followed his example, 246 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. and, requesting an audience with the king, ten- dered him the seals of office. His Majesty had not expected this, and refused to accept his resignation. But Walpole, who considered himself badly treated by his party, was firm in his determination, and laid the seals on the table, when the king took them, and placed them in his hat, assuring him the while of his high opinion of his conduct and abilities. Walpole held firm to his purpose. The minister's brother, who was waiting in the next room, says the king put the seals into Sir Robert's hat no less than ten times, and when he came out, ' the heat, flame, and agitation, with the water standing in his eyes, appeared so strongly in his face, and indeed all over him,, that he affected everybody in the room; and 'tis said that they that went into the closet immediately, found the king no less disordered.' It was not until three years after this that he again held office, when he was appointed Pay- master-General of the Forces, and soon after succeeded to his former position of First Lord of the Treasury and Chancellor of the Exchequer. His skill and ability as a statesman have been WALPOL&S INFLUENCE. 247 already referred to ; Count Broglio writes to the Court of France that ' Mr. Walpole and Lord Townshend possess an unbounded influence over the king and the Duchess of Kendal ; they enjoy the whole power of the government and the entire confidence of the king.' And again the ambassador says, ' The king cannot do without him' (Walpole) 'on account of his great influence in the House of Commons, where he depends entirely upon him in every respect.' His name will again occur in these pages in connection with the reign of George II. 248 CHAPTER X. London Town under George I. Some Play writers, Poets, and Journalists Tonson, the Publisher Little Mr. Pope among the Booksellers Some wicked Taverns Gin Shops Coffee and Chocolate-houses Dryden at 'Wills' Addison at 'Buttons' The 'Guardian' and 'Spectator' Clubs and their Origin The Kit-cat and its Members Sir Godfrey Kneller Swift and the October Club The Scribblers' Club Pope's Farewell to Town Lighting of the City Captain Fitzgerald and his Lady-love Dissipation and Irreligion Bill for the Suppression of Vice. T ONDON town was a curious old place elm-ing -*-* the reign of George I. Its streets were mostly narrow, rough, and unpaved, so that in wet or dirty weather the loose stones splashed mud on the brocaded garments of the fine ladies and gentlemen who trod on them. Close by the footpaths were cartloads of fruit, for which the vendors, with dice-boxes in their IN FLEET STREET. 249 hands, called on the people to gamble. The thoroughfares were crowded with sedan chairs there were four hundred of them licensed at this period some of them with the arms of a noble family emblazoned on them, earned by servants in rich liveries, and preceded by lac- keys that step forward with the airs, if not the graces, of French dancing-masters. There are also hackney coaches, with their many-caped drivers infamous rascals most of them, who for a consideration would play into the hands of the thieves with which the City swarmed, for the purpose of ridding people of their guineas as they rode home at night. Here we are in Fleet Street, if you please, with its rows of small crowded shops, its curi- ously-shaped gable-ended houses, with over- hanging bow windows, the fronts mostly covered with carvings in old oak, or designs stamped in plaster, and some of them with the showy escut- cheons of families who were patrons of the establishments bearing them. In the windows of most of the shops are books, pamphlets, and sheets of ballads fresh from the press, exposed for sale. Pass- 250 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. ing up and down and lounging about are a host of threadbare, nameless pamphleteers and obscure scribblers, who are ready to write verses at so much a line for a death or a birth, for Whig or for Tory, for Guelphor Stuart, with equal ease. They live a pitiful, hand-to-mouth exist- ence, and are ever waiting till something turns up which will give inspiration to their muse and bread to their stomachs. But there are others here besides th 4 ese poets ' ragged and forlorn ' men who flirt with, rather than steadily woo, ' the sacred nine,' and occasionally make them handmaidens to their political projects. This man walking by the ' White Horse Tavern,' whose coat is somewhat finer than the habits of those he passes, is honest Samuel Garth; not only his garb, but his gait likewise, proclaims him a physician. The doctor can occasionally enjoy a bottle of good port, tell a capital story, and make himself as jovial as any man. He writes, too, good vigorous English, which is appreciated by Pope and Congreve, and other lights of the town, and has now been just ar- ranging with his publisher about getting out his ' Prologue designed for Tamerlane.' SOME WRITERS. 251 That middle-aged, thin man, with the dark complexion, who is with him, is the great jour- nalist and famous author of ' Kobinson Crusoe.' He is a shrewd, restless-looking fellow ; there is much nervous energy expressed in his spare features, and a twinkle of kindly humour in his grey eyes, which turn from time to time to Dr. Garth's face, watchful of the effect of his quick- spoken, voluble words. The man who advances to meet them with a smile on his face has that jaunty, happy-go- lucky air which at once proclaims him an Irish- man. He is none other than Charles Molloy> B.L., the author of half a dozen comedies, who, getting but few briefs entrusted to his charge, has turned to literature, as so many others in like circumstances have since done. He is the editor of Common Sense, a weekly journal not always so valuable as its name indicated, but to which my Lord Chesterfield contributed under the nom-de-plume of ' Eudosia.' It is also whispered that most of those spicy arti- cles in 'Fogg's Journal' are from the pen of this versatile Hibernian. When his farce 'The Half-pay Officer' was produced at the 252 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. Lincoln's Inn Fields play-house, he got old Peg Fryer, who had played before Charles II., to take the part of Lady Richlove. Peg was, as may be gathered from her Christian name, a countrywoman of his own, and was anxious for his success. So the honest old soul came back to the stage after an absence of fifty years, she being in her eighty-fifth year, and played her part right well. Peg gained the applause of a vastly crowded house, and she was full proud of the favour it showed her. When the perform- ance was over, the audience would have her out again, for the bills promised she would dance a jig ; but, when she came forward in response, the artful old dame seemed tottering from fatigue and ready to fall, and made believe she must go off the boards. But the music suddenly striking up an Irish jig, she quickly straightened herself and danced it with as light a foot as if she had been twenty, to the great delight of the house. At the opposite side of the street is Parnell the poet, ' With softest manners gentlest arts adorn'd, Blest in every science, blest in every strain.' He has his head down and walks with a shuffling CHRISTOPHER BULLOCK. 253 gait, passing unnoticed in his abstraction a crowd at the end of the street that is making merry over a mountebank who calls himself Hightre- hight. This ingenious man swallows burning coals, licks a red-hot poker, and performs various wonders for the benefit of those around him. In. the veiy middle of the crowd is the lusty Chris- topher Bullock, the lover of all street sights. He is both an actor and an author, though not quite an honest one, as may be judged from the fact of his stealing the plot and situation of a play of Richard Savage's which the unfortunate poet had submitted to him for approval, and which the sturdy Bullock dished up and produced as original under his own name ; such things being known in those days. Coming out of the * Duke of Marlborough's Head' is a care-worn, pale- faced man, rather stooped and white-haired, and having a scholarly air. He is Robert Wilde, who wrote one play in the reign of Charles II. r and that play was damned ; from that hour he became what he remained to the end a disap- pointed man. The beau who is crossing the street is Vanbrugh, who cannot forget, nor is inclined to let his friends forget, that he has been. 254 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. in the army, though he has now turned architect, manager to a theatre, and play-writer, in which capacity he has set the whole town laughing at the sprightliness of his wit. Mr. Vanbrugh is in full dress to-day, and has on his white, flowing wig, a coat without a collar, adorned with raised hair buttons, cut square in front, with loose hanging sleeves. His waistcoat is of a bright colour with great flaps, and the lace ruffles round his throat and wrists are excessively fine. By the way he steps one knows the wit and fine gentleman is proud of his small feet encased in square-toed, short-quartered shoes with large tongues and silver buckles. There is Tonson the publisher's shop, where the first cheap edition of Shakespeare's works were published ; he is a merciless little man who made his money out of struggling authors, the same who refused poor Dryden a paltry loan, for which incivility the poet repaid him by handing down to posterity his portrait in three magnificent lines. ' With leering look, bull-faced, and freckled fair, With two left legs and Judas coloured hair, And frowsy pours that taint the ambient air ' It was in Tonson's shop, some chroniclers say, WILL WYCHERLEY. 255 that Wycherley was standing one day when my Lady Drogheda stepped in and asked for the Plain Dealer,' hearing which a friend of the author's who was by pushed him forward and said, 'Madame, here is the "Plain Dealer," if you want him.' Whereon Wycherley made a pro- found bow, and my lady smiled on him, he being a remarkably handsome man, and declared she was happy to know Mr. Wycherley, in reply to which he said something very fine. So a friend- ship was established between them, which by- and-by was strengthened by marriage. Close by is AVilliam Sandby's shop, whence were issued so many Tory pamphlets, and other publications and squibs defamatory to the Whigs. Not far from the Temple stands Linton's house, the friend and publisher of Pope, who used to boast that he could, ' by the aid of a beef dinner and plain pudding, make the hungry critics see more beauty in any book he published than ever the author dreamt of.' In Linton's house it was that Pope first met Warburton, who afterwards became his sincere friend. The author of the < Rape of the Lock ' was often to be seen in Fleet Street among the 256 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. publishers making a shrewd bargain when he- had aught to dispose of, saying sharp things all the while in a peevish, discontented manner, and assuring all who would listen to him that if he were to begin the world again, and knew as much as he did, he would never write a line. Let us walk through the Strand towards Pall Mall. What wonderful signs are swinging above the tavern doors ! Almost every figure that an artist's imagination can suggest is painted in glowing colours on them: boars, hogs, and cocks having a decided preference. With every breeze they swing on their rusty hinges, and on windy days threaten the skulls of those who pass below. Wicked taverns they are, too, some of them, where duels are fought, oftentimes at a moment's notice, and where men kill each other for little more than pas- time. There is the ' Queen's Head,' where but a night or two ago Cornet Castine was in com- pany with Mr. Moore, a worthy gentleman, and son to a late M.P. in Ireland, who dropped a few words concerning Chancellor Phips, which the cornet resenting, gave him very abusive language, upon which Mr. Moore walked out SHRINES OF BACCHUS AND VENUS. 257 into the yard, and the other followed him, and without any provocation from Mr. Moore, or offering to draw his sword, the cornet drew his and ran him into the breast, which in the opinion of the surgeons was likely to prove mortal.' The ' White Lion,' another tavern, has gained a certain reputation for gaiety. Even in the days of the second Charles it had been known as a place of diversion, and it not only kept up but excelled its old repute in the reign of George I. Under the pretence of assisting at a ' concert of musick,' ladies came here in great numbers in cloak and mask, and the gal- lants betrayed an equal appreciation for the sweet sounds discoursed under the roof of the ' White Lion.' It was noticed by the neighbours that these ' concerts ' ended with riotousness and greater gaiety than usually attended such assem- blies ; and it happened that a posse of constables slipped in one night, and, unmasking the fair ones, discovered some ladies of distinction, who were sent home, whilst the other ladies, also of distinc- tion, were conducted to Bridewell. In general these taverns were no better than Pagan shrines, where Bacchus and Venus were ardently worshipped. VOL. I. S 258 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. At the ' Mitre ' in St. James's Market, the un- fledged genius of Mrs. Oldfield, afterwards the most famous actress of her time, was discovered. Her mother kept the tavern, and Anna, who at this time was a good little wench, served the customers. One day when she was behind the bar, reading aloud Fletcher's comedy of 'The Scornful Lady,' in a clear, musical voice, George Farren stepped in, and noticed that she empha- sised the right points, and laughed at the proper places. So it entered into his head that this girl had some dramatic genius, and he advised her mother to put her on the stage, when Anna became an actress at the age of sixteen, and played for thirty years afterwards. Besides the temptations which taverns held forth, there were gin-shops, each with its painted board informing the public that they might ' get drunk for a penny, dead drunk for twopence, and have straw to lie upon for nothing,' each house having a cellar where those who availed themselves of the delights offered to them might wallow. When eventually the govern- ment sought to put down these houses with the strong hand of the law, that portion of the ' NO GIN, NO KING: 259 populace which made use of them became out- raged, and used the war-cry, ' No gin, no king.' The coffee and chocolate houses of Old Lon- don were places of entertainment around which a certain air of romance hovers. They num- bered about two thousand in all, and were frequented by men of all professions and of all grades in the social scale. The entrance price was usually a penny, which entitled the deposi- tor of that coin to sit and hear the news and gossip of the day, to listen to the fly-sheet papers read aloud, or take part in any discussion going on. The sum of twopence added the addition of a cup of coffee to the aforesaid delights, and the climax to the pleasures of the hour was reached by permission to smoke a pipe on the premises. Baron Pollnitz says, in giving his impressions on England at this period, ' 'Tis a sort of rule for the English to go once a day at least to houses of this kind ' (coffee houses), ' where they talk of business and news The chocolate house in St. James's, where I go every morning to pass away the time, is always so full that a man can scarce turn about in it. s 2 260 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. Here are dukes and other peers mixed with gentlemen ; and to be admitted there needs nothing more than to dress like a gentleman.' For those who were not dukes, or peers, or gentlemen, or did not dress like gentlemen, there were other coffee and chocolate houses, frequented by the majority of members of one or other of the professions, or by customers linked together by some common tie. Scotch- men were wont to gather at 'Forrest's,' and Frenchmen at ' Giles's.' ' Garraway's ' and ' Jonathan's ' were the favourite resorts of the honest citizens, who, over their social cups, talked of shares and bonds, and merchandise generally; and black-coated parsons were to be found in great numbers at 'Truby's' or ' Child's,' close by St. Paul's Churchyard, whilst the ' Old ' or ' Young Men's ' was given up to the society of the country's gallant defenders. One of the most famous of these houses of entertainment was * Wills',' rendered celebrated by being the haunt of the great Dryden; and here it was he gathered around him the wits and men of letters and culture of his day. In the principal room of ' Wills',' there was a great ' A DECENT OLD MAN. 1 261 arm-chair specially reserved for ' the old man venerable,' which, during the winter, was placed by the fire-side, and, during the summer, in the balcony, and these spots he used to refer to .as his winter and summer residences. In the great room at ' Wills',' common to all, the old man, grown garrulous in his latter days, would talk to any chance visitor who interested him, and tell anecdotes of blind John Milton, whom he had known, and of all the rare events which had happened during his life. Two men, whose names afterwards became famous, first saw Dry- den at ' Wills',' one of whom was Alexander Pope, then about twelve years of age, who, at his entreaty, was brought by Sir Charles Wogan from the Forest of Windsor for this purpose ; the other being Dean Lockier, who has fortun- ately left us his first impressions of the poet, whom Colley Gibber used to speak of as 'a decent old man.' The Dean says, ' I was about seventeen when I first came up to town, an odd-looking boy, with short, rough hair, and that sort of awkwardness which one always brings up at first out of the country with one. However, in spite 262 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. of my bashfulness and appearance, I used now and then to thrust myself into " Wills'," to have the pleasure of seeing the most celebrated wits of that time who then resorted thither. The second time that ever I was there, Mr. Dryden was speaking of his own things, as he frequently did, especially of such as had been lately pub- lished. " If anything of mine is good," says he, " 'tis ' Mac Flecnoe,' and I value myself the more upon it, because it is the first piece of ridicule written in heroics." On hearing this, I plucked up my spirit so far as to say, in a voice just loud enough to be heard, " that ' Mac Flecnoe ' was a very fine poem, but that I had not imagined it to be the first that was ever writ that way." On this, Dryden turned short upon me, as surprised at my interposing ; asked me how long " I had been a dealer in poetry," and added, with a smile, " Pray, sir, what is it that you did imagine to have been writ so before ?" I named Boileau's " Lutrin " and Tassoni's " Secchia Rapita," which I had read, and knew Dryden had borrowed some strokes from each. " 'Tis true," said Dryden. I had forgot them." A little after Dryden went out, and, in going. AT BUTTON'S. 263 spoke to me again, and desired me to come and see him the next day. I was highly delighted at the invitation ; went to see him accordingly, and was well acquainted with him after as long as he lived.' Button's coffee-house, 'over against Toms' in Covent Garden,' was rendered fashionable in later years by Addison and his followers. Button had been a servant to the Right Hon- ourable Joseph, who drew the wits and men of letters here that before were wont to meet at Wills'. Honest Richard Steele, and witty Con- greve, and Budgell, and Tickle, and Phillips, all excellent fellows too, and many others of lesser note, delighted to assemble at Button's. It was here that Phillips, when smarting from the pain of Pope's flagellation on his pastorals, stuck up a great rod in the common room, which he vowed to exercise on the rival poet whenever that diminutive gentleman made his appearance there. On the front door, Addison fixed a lion's head, which served as a letter-box, down which the scribblers were invited to slip their effusions, which were afterwards supposed to serve as a text for those delightful essays by 264 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. Addison, and Pope, and Steele, and Parnell re- garding the town, which afterwards appeared in the Guardian. ' This head,' says a letter in that journal, * is to open a most wide and voraci- ous mouth, which shall take in such letters and papers as are conveyed to me by my corre- spondents, it being my resolution to have a particular regard to all such matter as come to my hands through the mouth of the lion. There will be under it a box, of which the key will be kept in my own custody, to receive such papers as are dropped into it. Whatever the lion swallows I shall digest for the use of the publick.' And in another letter there is a description of the head from Addison's pen, in which he tells us that it is reckoned an excellent piece of workmanship, and was designed by a great hand in imitation of the antique ^Egyptian lion, the face of it being compounded out of that of a lion and a wizard. The lion, he further- more announces, is planted on the western side of the coffee-house, holding its paws under the chin, upon a box, which contains everything that he swallows. He begs of his readers to diet the animal on wholesome and substantial * A SILLY HABIT: 265 food, but desires that they will not gorge him either with nonsense or obscenity, and insists that his mouth may not be denied with scandal. Toms' coffee-house was within a stone's throw of the rival houses of entertainment, and it was whispered that within its walls play was earned on frequently until the small hours of morning; and there government ministers and members of the Upper House did not disdain to come and have a chat with the frequenters of Toms', indulge in a cup of coffee, and have a look at the latest foreign 'prints,' as the illustrated journals were then called, and the ' whimsical neAvspaper called the TatlerJ Toms' was a house where people are all ' too polite to hold a man in discourse by the button,' a habit that Steele makes merry over in the Guardian, giving at the same time a picture of the frequenters of this place of entertainment. ' There is a silly habit,' he writes in No. 84 of the Guardian, 'among many of our minor orators who display their eloquence in the several coffee-houses of this fair city, to the no small annoyance of considerable numbers of Her Majesty's spruce and loving subjects, and that is 266 CO URT LIFE BEL W STAIRS. a humour they have got of twisting off your buttons. These ingenious gentlemen are not able to advance three words till they have got fast hold of one of your buttons; but as soon as they have procured such an excellent handle for discourse, they will proceed with great elocution. I know not how well some may have escaped, but for my part I have often met with them to my cost ; having, I believe, within these three years past been argued out of several dozen ; insomuch that I have for some time ordered my tailor to bring me home with every suit a dozen at least of spare ones, to supply the place of such as from time to time are detached as a help to discourse, by the vehement gentlemen before mentioned. This way of holding a man in discourse is much practised in the coffee-houses within the city, and does not, indeed, so much prevail at the politer end of the town. It is likewise more frequently made use of among the small poli- ticians than any other body of men ... In the coffee-houses here about the Temple you may harangue even among our dabblers in politics for about two buttons a day, and many times for FORE-RUNNERS OF CLUBS. 267 less. I had yesterday the good fortune to receive very considerable additions to my know- ledge in state affairs, and I find this morning that it has not stood me in above a button.' The Coco-tree, the St. James's, and the Smyrna were famous houses in their day, and were all frequented by busy politicians, the first of these being a rendezvous for the Tories, as the St. James's was for the Whigs. Together with the crowd of gallants, and intriguing cour- tiers, and busy statesmen that thronged the coffee-houses in and about Covent Garden, came a host of nameless pamphleteers and scribblers who wrote verses to suit the subject of the hour. To them a coffee-house was a blessed haven, where they could sit in some obscure corner and, unnoticed, hear the great men engage in literary or political warfare, and perhaps pick up some scraps of thought which they would swiftly make away with to stew up in a nauseous drivel and dish as a piece of originality fresh from their own brains. These coffee-houses, used for the purpose of friendly intercourse and interchange of ideas, were the fore-runners of modern clubs, and were 268 CO URT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. indeed clubs in all but the name. As time went on, however, it was deemed advisable that some house in particular should be assigned for the meeting of those engaged in similar occupations or agreeing in politics, where, uninterrupted by the supporters of other factions, they might dis- cuss their opinions. For this latter purpose the Kit-cat club was established in the time of Queen Anne ; and it continued until the first year of George II.'s reign. The house selected for the meetings of these genial spirits who formed the club was situated in Shire Lane, at the ' Sign of the Cat and Fiddle,' and was kept by a pastry-cook rejoicing in the nomenclature of Christopher Kat ; from which it is supposed the club took its name. Pope, in an epigram which he wrote in 1716, says : ' Whence deathly kit-cat took its name Few critics can unriddle ; Some say from pastry-cook it came, And some from cat and fiddle. ' From no trim beau its name it boasts, Grey statesmen or green wits, But from this pell-mell pack of toasts Of old cats and young kits.' Christopher, otherwise Kit, concocted excel- ' TO EAT MUTTON PIES: 269 lent pies, which were the pride of their maker and the delight of the members of the club who dined at his house on special nights accord- ing to rule ; and to these savoury delicacies were given the name of the club. The mem- bers consisted of Whig noblemen and gentle- men anxious for the succession of the House of Hanover, amongst whom were the Dukes of Somerset, Grafton, Richmond, Devonshire, Marlborough, Sutherland, Manchester, Whar- ton, and Kingston, who assembled here to pro- test against the Tories, eat mutton pies, drink some good bottles of wine, sing songs, tell good stories, toast the Avomen they admired and maidens fair to see, and enjoy themselves tho- roughly in an age when enjoyment was an art. By-and-by, when there was no more need to- fear for the safety of the House to which they had attached themselves, the club grew less exclusive, and, besides men of high degree, Addison, Congreve, Vanbrugh, Dr. Garth, and Walsh were admitted. All these men had dis- tinguished themselves, principally in literature, and the humour and pleasantry with which their conversations were fraught made them valuable 270 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. additions to the weekly dinner-table.' Wit, which in this age gave a colouring to social life, had its birth at such re-unions ; and at the Kit- cat board in later times the gravity of political life and party warfare was laid aside to listen to the humorous narration of some love stratagem, or the adventures of some gallant, or other oc- currences that were always found amusing, though occasionally savouring of more broad- ness than good taste sanctioned. When the club had been some years established, two dissi- pated men, Lord Mohun and the Earl of Berke- ley were admitted, to the great grief of Tonson the secretary, who declared it would now be ruined ; and when one day Lord Mohun broke the gilded emblem of the top of his chair, Ton- son said the man who would do that would cut a throat. In this instance the good secretary, who had the forms of conventionality much at heart, was not far wrong, for my Lord Mohun was a famous duellist, and had dispatched a number of men, if not by the means which Tonson hinted at, by another which was equally successful. Members who were a greater ornament to the club were Lord Dorset, WITS, POETS, AND POLITICIANS. 271 'the grace of courts, the muses' pride,' Lords Halifax and Essex, Walpole and Sir Richard Steele. The walls of this club must have heard some rare and humorous sayings fall from the lips of these wits, poets, and politicians, who could be right jovial when they came together, and warmed under the influence of old wine and good-fellowship. When once they met at the table of the Kit-cat they were somewhat loth to part, and sometimes the grey light of early morning looked in and saw the 'merrie com- panie ' over their revels. Sir Robert Walpole was never more at home than here, where he told his best stories to appreciative friends amidst roars of laughter, and drank bottle after bottle of honest port. Vanbrugh kept his wittiest tales for the Kit-cat table, Congreve his broadest humour, Dorset his politest speeches ; and here honest Richard Steele got drunk early, and was generally found under the table when his friends were hastening to their sedan-chairs. Once he told Dr. Garth that his time was too valuable to waste at the Kit-cat meetings whilst his patients waited for him. ' Nay, nay, Dick, 272 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. that's no great matter after all,' said tlie Doctor, pulling out a list of fifteen patients from his fob ; ' nine of them have such bad constitutions that not all the physicians in the world could save them, and the other six have such good constitutions that not all the physicians in the world could kill them.' At this answer the members round the table laughed right heartily, and Dick Steele, amid cheers, proposed the patients' health. On one occasion, the celebra- tion of King William's birthday, Sir Richard brought my Lord Bishop of Bangor with him, when the ' immortal memory ' was drunk. A mad hatter, one John Sly, who had stolen into the room on his knees in the old cavalier fashion, ' drank the Orange toast in a tankard of foaming October.' Steele whispered to the bishop, 'Laugh, do laugh it is humanity to laugh.' Soon after this the learned divine took up his hat and gravely went his way. When, in the early hours of morning, Steele was picked up from under the table and tumbled into a sedan chair, he insisted on the earners taking him to the bishop's palace, in order that he might apologise to his lordship, and only by A WEALTHY PUBLISHER. 273 the force of great persuasion could he be in- duced to go home, and defer his excuses until the following day. When morning came, he freely tendered them in the couplet : ' Virtue with so much ease on Bangor sits, All faults he pardons, though he none commits.' Sir Godfrey Kneller was employed by Mr. Secretary Tonson to paint the portraits of the members of the club, each picture to be of a certain size, which admitted of the hands being seen, and which afterwards gave rise to what is now known in art circles as the Kit-cat por- trait. Sir Godfrey was one of the vainest men living, and Tonson one of the shrewdest, who, when he was dying at the age of eighty, re- gretted that he could not commence his life over again, for he was sure he would then be able to amass one hundred thousand pounds, instead of the eighty thousand which he was worth at his death. By pandering to the ar- tist's inordinate love of vanity, Tonson got a great many pictures from him without cost, including two portraits of himself. Sir Godfrey's name was closely associated with the Kit-cat Club and many of its members, VOL. I. T 274 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. and he was no less remarkable than many of them. His wit brightened up and thrust itself forward now and then, and showed that it could be just as keen as his vanity. Once, when Pope, in his usual satirical way, said, ' If Sir Godfrey had been consulted, the world would have been made more perfect,' Kneller looked down on the little poet, who acknowledged himself to be * the least thing of a man in England,' and re- plied, with a smile, ' 'Fore God, there are some little things in it I think I could have mended better.' The poet and painter were, however, good friends and neighbours, and Pope during Sir Godfrey's last days spent a great deal of his time with him. When he visited him on one occasion, he found the artist lying in bed con- templating with great satisfaction a plan which he had drawn for his monument. Pope said he never saw a scene of such human vanity in his life, and that Kneller ' said many gross things in relation to himself and the memory he should leave behind him,' which was the only thing that seemed to reconcile him to his death, which he regarded with fear. Pope strove to soothe -SIR GODfEETS DREAM. 275 him by saying he had been a good man during his life, and no doubt he would go to a better place, when Kneller replied, 'Ah, my good friend Mr. Pope, I wish God would let me stay here.' Then he went on to tell his friend of a remarkable dream he had recently had. ' A night or two ago,' said Sir Godfrey, ' I dreamt that I was dead, and soon afterwards found myself walking between two hills, rising pretty equally on each side. Before me I saw a door, and a great number of people about it. I walked on towards them. As I drew nearer, I could distinguish St. Peter by his keys, with some other of the Apostles ; they were admit- ting the people as they came next the door. When I had joined the company, I could see several seats every way at a little distance within the door. As the first after my coming up approached for admittance, St. Peter asked his name, and then his religion. ' " I am a Roman Catholic," replied the spirit. ' " Go in, then," says St. Peter, " and sit down on those seats there on the right hand." 'The next was a Presbyterian; he was ad- T2 276 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. mitted after the usual questions, and ordered to sit down on the seat opposite the other. My turn came next, and as I approached, St. Peter very civilly asked me my name. I said 'twas Kneller. I had no sooner said so than St. Luke (who was . standing just by) turned towards me and said, with a great deal of earnestness, * " What ! the famous Sir Godfrey Kneller from England ?" ' " The very same, sir, at your service," says I. ' On this St. Luke immediately drew near to me, embraced me, and made me a great many compliments on the art both of us had followed in the world, and entered so far into the subject that he seemed almost to have forgot the busi- ness for which I came thither. At last, however, he recollected himself, and said, ' " I beg your pardon, Sir Godfrey. I was so taken up with the pleasure of conversing with you ! But, apropos, pray, sir, what religion may you be off ' " Why, truly, sir," says I, " I am of no religion." ' " Oh, sir," says he, " you will be so good, LAST DAYS OF THE KIT-CAT. 277 then, as to go in, and take your seat where you please." ' When he had finished the narration of this wonderful dream, he spoke of his approaching death, and told his friend he should not like to lie among the rascals at Westminster; that a memorial there would be sufficient, and desired him to write his epitaph, which Pope did, and afterwards declared : ' I think it is the worst thing I ever did in my life.' The Kit-cats did more to encourage art than employing Sir Godfrey's brush. Once they offered the sum of four hundred guineas for the encouragement of good comedies, which, they held, taught good manners. During the summer months, when the town grew unbear- ably hot and dusty, the club adjourned its meet- ings to the ' Upper Flask ' tavern by Hamp- stead Heath, where they enjoyed themselves with that zest for which they were famous. When Tonson went to live at Bam Elms, which had once been the residence of Cowley, the Kit-cats held their meetings there, and con- tinued to do so until the days of this merry club 278 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. drew to an end towards the first year of George II.'s reign. By this time, most of its original members were scattered and gone. Good old Dr. Garth had been gathered to his forefathers ; Congreve was an invalid who suffered agonies from gout ; that warm-hearted Irishman, honest Dick Steele, had become a hopeless paralytic, helpless in body, depressed in spirits, a wreck of his former self; the sturdy old Duke of Marlborough had been resting for some years under a ton or two of white marble ; Addison had gone where the Countess of Warwick could no longer disturb him, and Lord Mohun, whose entrance to the club had been regretted by Tonson, and who had killed Captain Coote, and aided in murdering Montford the actor, had been run through the body by the Duke of Hamilton, whom he succeeded in killing like- wise. It is almost melancholy to read a letter from the once brilliant Vanbrugh in 1727, in which he says to Tonson : ' Both Lords Carlisle and Cobham expressed a great desire of having one meeting next winter, not as a club, but as old ' SOME ARE GOOD MASTERS: 279 friends that have been of a club and the best club that ever met.' Swift, with the aid of some friends, established the October Club, which differed, politically, from the Kit-cat. Lords Oxford, Bolingbroke, and Bathurst were members of it, as was also Dr. Arbuthnot. Its meetings were held at the ' Bell Tavern ' in King Street. Its tendencies were not merely political ; they inclined largely towards literature, and at its meetings were frequently discussed the publications of satires and lampoons, which afterwards flooded the town. The 'Mug-House' club held its meetings in Long Acre, where, on Wednesdays, ( a mixture of gentlemen, lawyers, and tradesmen meet in a great room. A grave old gentleman, in his grey hair, and nearly ninety years of age, is the president, and sits in an armed chair some steps higher than the rest. A harp plays all the while at the lower end of the room, and now and then some one of the company rises and entertains the rest with a song (and, by-the-by, some are good masters). Here is nothing drunk 280 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. but ale, and every gentleman chalks on the table as it is brought in ; everyone also, as in coffee-houses, retires when he pleases.' Another club was the Scribblers (or Scriblerus) that could boast of such members as Gay, Parnell, and Swift. At the various clubs Mr. Pope was a welcome guest when he came to town from his retreat, where he was translating ' Homer.' They were almost all political, and he kept clear of them, so that, whilst his friends busied them- selves with the affairs of state, he was, he says, * considering only how Menelaus may recover Helen, and the Trojan War be put to a speedy conclusion.' Such thoughts paid him better than politics, for the wise little gentleman re- ceived the sum of five thousand, three hundred, and twenty pounds, four shillings, for his trans- lation. He had left town to avoid interruption during his work, and made his adieux in the lines commencing : ' Dear, damn'd, distracting town, farewell, Thy fools no more I'll tease.' His farewell to his friends is set down in a racy style : ' FAREWELL, UNHAPPY TONSON: 281 ' Farewell, Arbuthnot's raillery On every learned sot ; And Garth, the best good Christian he, Although he knows it not. ' Linton, farewell, thy bard must go, Farewell, unhappy Tonson ! Heaven gives thee for thy loss of Kowe Lean Phillip and fat Johnson. ' Why should I stay ? Both parties rage, My vixen mistress squalls ; The \vits in envious feuds engage, And Homer (damn him) calls. ' Delicious lobster nights, farewell, For sober, studious days ! And Burlington's delicious meal, For salads, tarts, and pease.' In 1718 the poet left town, after this farewell, and settled down on the border of the Thames, in the district of Richmond and Twickenham, where, as he says, ' I passed an entire year of my life without any fixed abode in London, or more than a transitory glance, for a day or two at most in a month, on the pomps of the town.' On the occasions of such visits the poet, like many another child of the Muses before and since, caroused and drank more wine than was good for him. In a letter w T hich he wrote to 282 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. Congreve he says, ' I sit up till two o'clock over Burgundy and Champagne, and am become so much a rake that I shall be ashamed in a short time to be thought to do any sort of business. I fear I must get the gout by drinking ; purely for a fashionable pretence to sit still long enough to translate four books of Homer. I hope you will by that time be up again, and I may succeed to the bed and couch of my predecessor ; pray cause the stuffing to be repaired and the crutches to be shortened for me.' In the early years of the reign of George T. the city was wretchedly lighted. There were no glass lamps in the streets, but all householders whose dwellings faced a street, lane, or public passage were obliged to suspend a lantern from the doors of their houses from six to eleven o'clock, unless on such nights when the moon was full and did her duty, as every moon was expected to do by those who lit the tho- roughfares under the penalty of a shilling fine. Such an advantage to thieves did this semi- light afford that the town was unsafe after dark, and the most impudent robberies were continually committed. It was no uncommon THE TOWN BY NIGHT. 283 occurrence for these thieves to quietly and with dexterous stealthiness cut open the back of a hackney-coach as it drove along at night, and then make a sudden grab at the valuable wig of the male occupant, or the head-dress of the female, generally ornamented with jewels. Pur- suit down the dark and narrow by-streets would prove useless, and probably dangerous. Those who were obliged to go out usually car- ried lanterns with them, but they were sudden- ly wrenched from them when an attempt at robbery was made, and their crying out for help often ended in murder. Nothing, indeed, could be more daring than the conduct of the foot- pads who infested both the town and suburbs ; and their hardiness is only a little more astonish- ing than the leniency with which they were treated. One instance of this is given in an account of a felony contained in the Weekly Journal for August 17, 1723, at which one can scarcely help feeling amused.