L 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSITY Of 
 CALIFORNIA 
 
 SAN DIEGO
 
 ff 
 
 


 
 GEORGE 
 
 KING GEORGE III. 
 
 FROM THE PICTURE IN TIIK HRITISM MUSKI'M
 
 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS 
 
 LONDON UNDER THE LAST GEORGES 
 1760 1830 
 
 J. FITZGERALD MOLLOY 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 * THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF PEG WOFFINGTON,' ETC 
 
 A NEW EDITION 
 
 WITH PORTRAITS OF GEORGE III, AND GEORGE IV. 
 
 DOWNEY & CO. LIMITED 
 
 12 YORK STREET, COVENT GARDEN, LONDON 
 
 1897
 
 LONDON: 
 
 PRINTED BY GILBERT AND RIVINGTON, LD., 
 ST. JOHN'S HOUSE, CLERKENWELL, B.C.
 
 PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION. 
 
 THE popularity of the first volumes of this work practically 
 proved by a demand which sent the book into a second 
 edition in three weeks, and out of print in as many months 
 has induced me to continue the pictures of Court Life 
 under the Georges. 
 
 The reigns of George III. and George IV. are no less 
 interesting and instructive, to those who study the social 
 history and manners of courts, than those of George I. and 
 George II. ; and, it is mournful to assert, are far more 
 scandalous. George III., it is true, was from the day of his 
 marriage a moral man ; but the grossly voluptuous and 
 glaringly corrupt example of his immediate predecessors yet 
 affected the conduct of his courtiers and tainted them 
 grievously. Concerning George IV. there can be no second 
 opinion. 
 
 As in the former volumes, so in these, I have omitted as 
 much as possible all reference to politics, save where they 
 are responsible for the actions of Kings, Princes, and 
 Courtiers. No statement is made without authority ; and
 
 iv PREFACE. 
 
 due care has been taken to paint faithful portraits of the 
 various characters introduced. To give a vivid picture of 
 the Court life, neither time nor labour has been spared. For 
 this purpose, I have consulted upwards of five hundred 
 volumes, principally autobiographies, biographies, corre- 
 spondence, and diaries, likewise manuscripts, pamphlets, 
 newspapers, and the ballad literature of the day. 
 
 J. FITZGERALD MOLLOY.
 
 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 The Child Born to be King A Dull, Good Boy ( Uncom- 
 monly full of Princely Prejudices' Death of Frederick, 
 Prince of Wales What the Princess said of the King- 
 My Lord Bute and the Dowager The New Prince of 
 Wales None Suffered to Approach Him Her Highness 
 of Wolfenbiittel and the King The Story of Hannah 
 Lightfoot The King is Dead A New Order of Things. 
 
 ON the 4th of June, 1738, a male child was born to their 
 Royal Highnesses Frederick and Augusta, Prince and 
 Princess of Wales, who subsequently gained the reputation 
 of being the dullest prince in Europe. It happened that 
 this child born to be King first saw the light in Norfolk 
 House, St. James's Square. Only a few months previously, 
 His Sacred Majesty George II. had quarrelled with the 
 heir-apparent, and driven him and his family from St. James's 
 Palace. 
 
 A little while after this infant had come into the world, he 
 gave such strong indications of his intentions of imme- 
 diately quitting it, that it was deemed advisable to have him 
 baptized at once, that he might depart a Christian. Dr. 
 Seeker, Lord Bishop of Oxford and Rector of St. James's 
 parish, was therefore summoned in hot haste, and performed 
 the ceremony; according to the manuscript entry in the
 
 2 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 register of births in St James's parish, 'the name pronounced 
 upon the occasion was George William Frederick.' 
 
 When this triple-named Prince arrived at the age of six 
 years, his education commenced, and he and his brother 
 Edward, afterwards Duke of York, were placed under the 
 charge of Dr. Ayscough. This reverend gentleman had 
 won the Prince of Wales's Mammon-loving heart by his 
 management of the privy purse. Mr. Pelham remembered 
 being told by a very worthy man that ' Dr. Ayscough was a 
 great rogue.' He was certainly a man of parts, not adverse 
 to his own advancement, nor bound by any narrow orthodox 
 prejudices ; he could flatter, mimic, and preach hetero- 
 doxical doctrines with equal ease, and indeed his various 
 talents soon enabled him to become Bishop of Bristol. 
 
 Under this tutor, the Prince, who grew up a dull, good 
 boy, made but little progress. He had indeed, without any 
 direction from his reverend preceptor, learned several pages 
 of hymns writ by one Dr. Doddridge, a Dissenting clergy- 
 man ; but it was doubtful if he understood them. At the 
 age of eleven years, the future King of Great Britain could 
 not read the English language correctly; when the Princess 
 of Wales was informed of this, and complained to Dr. 
 Ayscough, he cheerfully replied that it mattered little, ' the 
 Prince could make Latin verses.' 
 
 Later on, his preceptors were Dr. Thomas, Bishop o 
 Peterborough, Dr. Hayter, Bishop of Norwich, and Mr. 
 George Scott Many years afterwards, when the Prince was 
 King, he complained that ' most serious inconvenience had 
 arisen from disagreements and intrigues amongst those who 
 were entrusted with the care of his education.' The Lord 
 Bishop of Norwich he considered ' an intriguing man, in- 
 fluenced in his conduct by the disappointment he met with 
 in failing to get the Archbishopric of Canterbury,' and 
 added, ' that his Lordship was the author of the gross and 
 wicked calumny on George Scott, accusing him, a man of
 
 A QUIET YOUTH. S 
 
 the purest mind and most innocent conduct, of having 
 attempted to poison his wife.' 
 
 In 1751, Frederick, Prince of Wales, after a few days' ill- 
 ness, died in the arms of his favourite, Desnoyers, the 
 French dancing-master, who had just been playing the fiddle 
 to him, whilst the gay courtiers in the next room were 
 diverting themselves with cards. From the date of his 
 death, the eyes of the nation were turned on George William 
 Frederick, then a lad of thirteen, who suddenly became heir 
 to the throne. When the news was conveyed to him of his 
 father's death, he turned pale and laid his hand on his 
 breast. The courtly Ayscough asked him if he were un- 
 well. 
 
 ' I feel,' said the lad, ' something here, just as I did when 
 I saw the two workmen fall from the scaffold at Kew.' 
 
 Ten days after the Prince's death, the King paid a visit 
 to the Princess and her children, and exhibited unusual 
 emotion, wept, embraced the young Princess Augusta, and 
 told her brothers 'they must be brave boys, obedient to 
 their mother, and thus deserve the fortune to which they 
 were born.' A month later, George William Frederick was 
 created Prince of Wales, and placed by the King under the 
 governorship of Lord Harcourt. According to Horace 
 Walpole, Harcourt was a civil and sheepish man, who 
 thought ' that he discharged his trust conscientiously, if on 
 no account he neglected to make the Prince turn out his 
 toes.' His Royal Highness was a quiet youth, who, accord- 
 ing to his grandsire, ' was good for nothing except to read 
 the Bible to his mother.' That lady had not a very high 
 opinion of her son : ' he was a very honest boy, but she 
 wished he was a little more forward and less childish at his 
 age, and she hoped his preceptors would improve him.' 
 She furthermore volunteered the information that ' those 
 about him knew no more [of him] than if they had never 
 seen him.' Lord Waldegrave, who succeeded Lord Har- 
 
 I 2 
 
 .
 
 4 COURT LIFE BELOW S7ATRS. 
 
 court as governor to the Prince, says he found His Royal 
 Highness 'uncommonly full of princely prejudices con- 
 tracted in the nursery and improved by the bed-chamber 
 women and pages of the back-stairs.' There can be no 
 doubt that much of the narrow-mindedness and bigotry 
 which afterwards distinguished George III. was due to his 
 mother's early training, and to the strict influence she held 
 over him. From his earliest years she strove to keep him 
 apart from the nobility of his own age, and, as he grew up, 
 her vigilance in this respect increased a fact which one of 
 George IIL's sons afterwards remarked was 'an unfortunate 
 circumstance,' of which he 'saw evident marks almost 
 daily.' 
 
 When spoken to on the subject of allowing the Prince to 
 mix more freely with his future subjects, she declared she 
 ' was highly sensible how necessary it was that the Prince 
 should keep company with men, but such was the universal 
 profligacy, such the character and conduct of the young 
 people of distinction, that she was really afraid to have them 
 near her children ; she well knew that women could not 
 inform him, for their behaviour was indecent, low, and 
 much against their own interests by making themselves so 
 very cheap.' 
 
 During her husband's lifetime, the Princess had carefully 
 suppressed her inclinations to meddle in public affairs ; but 
 when he was removed, and her ambition of one day be- 
 coming a Queen frustrated, she determined that, if she 
 could not govern personally, she would at least rule the 
 kingdom through her son. She was, however, a clever 
 woman, and adopted a politic course of action. On the 
 morning of the Prince's death, she rose at eight o'clock, 'and 
 burned, or said she burned,' as Horace Walpole writes, all 
 her husband's papers. Her next step was to recommend 
 herself and her children to His Majesty, whom she heartily 
 detested.
 
 THE KING PLAYS HIS PART. 5 
 
 ' The King and she,' says Walpole, ' both took their parts 
 at once ; she of flinging herself entirely into his hands and 
 studying nothing but his pleasure, but with winding what 
 interest she got with him to the advantage of her own and 
 the Prince's friends ; the King of acting the tender grand- 
 father; which he who had never acted the tender father 
 grew so pleased with representing, that he soon became it 
 in earnest.' 
 
 But, as she told Bubb Dodington in one of the confiden- 
 tial conversations which took place when they had dined 
 and played at comet, she did not allow the King's kindness 
 to the children, or his civility to herself, to impose on her. 
 ' She wished the King was less civil, and that he put less of 
 their money into his pocket ; that he had got full ^30,000 
 per annum by the poor Prince's death. If he would but 
 have given them the Duchy of Cornwall to have paid his 
 debts, it would have been something. Should resentments 
 be carried beyond the grave ? Should the innocent suffer ? 
 Was it becoming for so great a King to leave his son's debts 
 unpaid ?' Bubb Dodington said it was impossible to new- 
 make people ; the King could not now be altered. She 
 said she could not bear it, nor help sometimes giving the 
 King to understand her in the strongest and most disagree- 
 able light. She had done it more than once, and she would 
 tell how it happened the last time. 
 
 ' You know,' continued she, ' that the Crown has a power 
 of resumption of Carlton House and gardens for a certain 
 sum. The King had not long since an inclination to see them, 
 and he came to make me a visit there ; we walked in the 
 gardens, and he, seemingly mighty pleased with them, com- 
 mended them much, and told me that he was extremely glad 
 I had got so very pretty a place. I replied it was a very pretty 
 place, but that the prettiness of a place was an objection to 
 it, when one was not sure to keep it. The King said that 
 there was indeed a power of resumption in the Crown for
 
 3 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 ^4,000, but surely I could not imagine that it could ever 
 be made use of against me ; how could such a thought come 
 into my head ? I answered no, it was not that which I was 
 afraid of, but I was afraid there were those who had a better 
 right to it than either the Crown or I. He said, " Oh ! no, 
 no, I do not understand that ; that cannot be." I replied I 
 did not pretend to understand these things, but I was afraid 
 there were such people. He said, " Oh ! I know nothing 
 of that ; I do not understand it," and immediately turned 
 the discourse.' 
 
 So far did her good graces succeed in winning the King's 
 regard that she was appointed Regent in case of His Majesty's 
 death, to the exclusion of the King's only surviving son, 
 William, Duke of Cumberland, commonly called Billy the 
 Butcher, from the atrocities he had countenanced after the 
 battle of Culloden. Between the Princess and the Duke 
 a hearty hatred existed, which deepened to distrust on her 
 side, and to jealousy on his, because of the power which this 
 appointment might give her. She spoke of the Duke's dis- 
 courtesy, and complained that, though she had been at Kew 
 the whole summer, he had never vouchsafed her one visit ; 
 and, when she was ill and reported dying, he had never sent 
 to make inquiries regarding her health. Dreading and dis- 
 liking him, she took care to instil the same feelings into her 
 son's mind, and to make him acquainted with what has been 
 called ' the national antipathy ' towards the man ' who loved 
 blood.' So thoroughly did she impart this dread, which 
 served not only then, but in the future, to destroy all in- 
 fluence which the Duke might otherwise have had over his 
 nephew, that one day, when the Prince was alone with his 
 uncle, the latter, to amuse him, having taken down a sword 
 and drawn it, the boy turned pale with fright, believing he 
 was about to be murdered. 
 
 The maternal influence over the Prince was blended and 
 strengthened by that of John, Earl of Bute, who soon became
 
 HE HAD FINE LEGS. 7 
 
 a power in the royal household. Horace Walpole speaks of 
 him as a ' Scotchman who, having no estate, had passed 
 his youth in studying mathematics in his own little island, 
 then simples in the hedges about Twickenham, and at five- 
 and-thirty had fallen in love with his own figure, which he 
 produced at masquerades in becoming dresses, and in plays 
 which he acted in private companies with a set of his own 
 relations.' 
 
 His love of masquerades and plays was sufficient to re- 
 commend him to Frederick, Prince of Wales, who was a 
 thorough dilettante, and was never so happy as when sur- 
 sounded by players and fiddlers and such children of the 
 Muses. Lord Bute was soon made one of the lords of the 
 bed-chamber, and after the Prince's death he continued the 
 friend and counsellor of the Princess. So assiduous indeed 
 were his attentions to her, that the public were not long in 
 discovering they were prompted by a much warmer attach- 
 ment than that of mere loyalty. 
 
 ' He has a good person, fine legs, and a theatrical air of 
 the greatest importance,' says Lord Waldegrave ; who plea- 
 santly adds : ' The late Prince of Wales, who was not over- 
 nice in the choice of Ministers, used frequently to say that 
 Bute was a fine showy man, who would make an excellent 
 ambassador in a Court where there was no business. Such 
 was His Royal Highness's opinion of his political abilities, 
 but the sagacity of the Princess had discovered other 
 accomplishments of which the Prince her husband may not 
 perhaps have been the most competent judge.' 
 
 Whether the Princess was at Kew or Carlton House, my 
 Lord Bute's visits continued with equal regularity. 
 
 'The eagerness of the pages of the back-stairs to let her 
 know whenever Lord Bute arrived,' says Horace Walpole, 
 ' and some other symptoms, contributed to dispel the ideas 
 that had been conceived of the rigour of her widowhood. 
 On the other hand, the favoured personage, naturally osten-
 
 8 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 tatious of his person, and of haughty carriage, seemed by 
 no means desirous of concealing his conquest. His bows 
 grew more theatric, his graces contracted some meaning, and 
 the beauty of his leg was constantly displayed in the eyes 
 of the poor, captivated Princess. Indeed, the nice observers 
 of the Court thermometer, who often foresee a change of 
 weather before it actually happens, had long thought that 
 Her Royal Highness was likely to choose younger Ministers 
 than that formal piece of empty mystery, Cresset ; or the 
 matron-like decorum of Sir George Lee .... Her simple 
 husband had forced an air of intrigue even on his wife. 
 When he affected to retire into gloomy allees with Lady 
 Middlesex, he used to bid the Princess walk with Lord Bute. 
 As soon as the Prince was dead, they walked more and more, 
 in honour of his memory.' 
 
 For reasons which had the object of forwarding his ambi- 
 tious schemes, Lord Bute added his efforts to those of the 
 Princess, in cutting the Prince off as much as possible from 
 his grandfather's courtiers, and ' none but their immediate 
 and lowest creatures were suffered to approach him. Except 
 at his levees, where none are seen as they are, he saw nobody, 
 and none saw him.' 
 
 ' The Prince,' says one of the gossips of the time, * lived 
 shut up with his mother and Lord Bute, and must have 
 thrown them under some difficulties : their connection was 
 not easily reconcilable to the devotion which they had in 
 fused into the Prince; the Princess could not wish him 
 always present, and yet dreaded his being out of her sight 
 His brother Edward, who received a thousand mortifications, 
 was seldom suffered to be with him ; and the Princess 
 Augusta, now a woman, was, to facilitate some privacy for 
 the Princess, dismissed from supping with her mother, and 
 sent back to cheese-cakes and her little sister Elizabeth, on 
 pretence that meat at night would fatten her too much.' 
 
 Their power over him was evinced on the occasion
 
 THE PRINCESS OF WOLFENBUTTEL. 9 
 
 of the King's proposing that he should marry ; the 
 Prince was only eighteen, but His Majesty was anxious to 
 see him settled before his (George II.'s) death, lest afterwards 
 the Princess might contrive an alliance for him with one of 
 the Saxe-Gotha family, her relations, for whom His Majesty 
 had no predilection. Accordingly, when at Hanover, he 
 met the Princess of Wolfenbiittel, niece of Frederick II. of 
 Prussia, with whose accomplishments and amiability he 
 became so enamoured that he was desirous of making her 
 his granddaughter, as he was too old to make her his wife. 
 When, however, the Princess Dowager caught a rumour of 
 this, she waxed exceeding wroth at the possible prospect of 
 her power over her son being interfered with and perhaps 
 overthrown. She threw off all pretence of subservient 
 obedience to the King, and metaphorically shook her fist in 
 his face. She should ' let him know how ill she took it ; 
 that she had eight other children to be provided for ; that 
 she hoped he would think of doing for them, and not leave 
 her eldest son those young children to take care of before 
 he had one of his own ; that it was probable the Prince 
 might have so many, that hers could not expect much 
 provision.' Moreover, she disliked the proposed alliance. 
 ' The young woman was said to be handsome, and have 
 good qualities and abundance of wit, but if she took after 
 her mother, the Duchess of Brunswick-Wolfenbiittel, who 
 was the most intriguing, meddling, satirical, sarcastic person 
 in the world, who made mischief wherever she went, she 
 would certainly not do for George.' 
 
 Armed, therefore, with right womanly jealousy, she in- 
 formed the Prince he was about being made a victim to 
 gratify the King's private interests in the little Electorate of 
 Hanover, and fearing lest the contemplation of such a 
 sacrifice might not prove disagreeable to one possessing ' a 
 vigorous, healthy constitution, to whom it might reasonably 
 be supposed that a matrimonial companion would not be
 
 io COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 unacceptable,' Her Highness of Wolfenbiittel was represented 
 as being hideous and hateful ; indeed, a kind of female beast 
 with whom Prince Beauty must not wed. The Prince there- 
 fore conceived a strong aversion to his proposed bride, and, 
 to His Majesty's great chagrin, refused her hand, which so 
 incensed the old man, then past his seventieth year, that 
 he declared, if he were but twenty years younger, she should 
 never have been refused by a Prince of Wales, for he should 
 have made her Queen of England. 
 
 This act on the part of the Prince showed the King how 
 much his grandson was governed by his mother, and he re- 
 solved, if possible, to remove him from her influence and 
 from her residence at Leicester House. As he had now 
 reached his eighteenth year, and was therefore legally of 
 age, His Majesty sent a message to the Prince informing 
 him that he would grant him an income of ^40,000 a year 
 and settle an establishment for him, and that he had already 
 given orders that apartments in St. James's and in Kensington 
 Palace should be fitted up for his use. The Princess, how- 
 ever, was not to be outwitted ; she made her son write to 
 accept the ^40,000, but at the same time entreating His 
 Majesty ' not to divide him from his mother, which would be 
 a most sensible affliction to both.' It is worth noting that 
 at the time he wrote this it was well known, as Bubb Doding- 
 ton informs us, ' that he did not live with his mother either in 
 town or country,' though the courtier carefully refrains from 
 mentioning where or with whom the Prince resided. 
 
 To accept the annuity and decline a separate residence 
 for the maintenance of which it was intended, was a possi- 
 bility that the King had not anticipated ; but it was now im- 
 possible for him to withdraw an allowance which had not 
 been made conditional with the full acceptance of the offer, 
 and so matters were allowed to rest for some time. 
 
 George William Frederick, though the dullest Prince in 
 Europe, and perhaps the most carefully guarded, proved that
 
 A ROYAL INTRIGUE. n 
 
 he, like all common humanity, was susceptible to love's 
 ways, by falling a victim to the tender passion on more occa- 
 sions than one. Concerning what was probably the first of 
 his amours, a tale hangs of which many versions have been 
 given. So far, however, as the story can be cleared from itr 
 surrounding mystery, it runs as follows : 
 
 Hannah Lightfoot, a young and beautiful girl, called ' the 
 fair Quaker,' lived with her uncle, who kept a linen- 
 draper's shop at the corner of St. James's Market, where the 
 Prince frequently saw her as he passed from Leicester 
 House, his mother's residence, to St. James's Palace. His 
 heart was immediately touched by the passion which levels 
 all ranks, and he began to sigh for the companionship of the 
 fascinating Hannah. Pondering over the means by which 
 his object could be accomplished without alarming the fair 
 Quaker, he conceived the idea of engaging the services of 
 one of those discreet friends who are ever ready to aid 
 Princes in the pursuit of their desires. 
 
 His choice at once fell on Miss Chudleigh, a courtier with 
 whom his father and grandfather had been in love while she 
 was maid-of-honour to his mother, and who had varied the 
 course of her romance by committing bigamy and making 
 sad havoc of the decalogue generally. Such an office as the 
 Prince trusted to her skill was naturally in accordance with 
 her taste, and with that brilliant talent for intrigue which she 
 had already exercised with so much personal success. Nor 
 was she found wanting on this occasion ; she soon discovered 
 a convenient and private place for a rendezvous at the house 
 of one Perryn at Knightsbridge, where the royal lover met 
 the fair lady, and became yet more deeply enamoured of her 
 charms. 
 
 A statement has been made in ' The Secret History of the 
 Court of England, by the Right Honourable Lady Anne 
 Hamilton, sister of his Grace the Duke of Hamilton and 
 Brandon, and of the Countess of Dunmore,' published in
 
 12 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 1832, that the Prince was secretly married to Hannah Light- 
 foot; and this assertion was repeated in a now forgotten 
 pamphlet, entitled, ' The Appeal for Royalty,' by no less a 
 personage than Lavinia Jannette Horton Ry ves, ' calling her- 
 self Princess of Cumberland and Duchess of Lancaster.' 
 Moreover, in the latter a copy of a supposed certificate of 
 marriage between the Quaker and the Prince was given, 
 signed by William Pitt as one of the witnesses. This certifi- 
 cate, however, at a late memorable trial, was pronounced 'a 
 gross and rank forgery.' 
 
 The most probable story regarding the royal love-affair is 
 that which is told in the Monthly Magazine for April, 1821, 
 the year after the King's death, and subsequently authenti- 
 cated by other statements from various writers. This narra- 
 tive states that, the royal lover's relatives taking alarm at his 
 passion for Hannah Lightfoot, Miss Chudleigh called on 
 Isaac Axford, ' shopman to Barton the grocer on Ludgate 
 Hill,' furthermore described as ' a poor-hearted fellow,' and 
 proposed that he should marry Hannah, when a considerable 
 sum of money would be given him ; to which he consented, 
 and immediately after the ceremony she was carried away 
 by the Prince. This version of the royal intrigue is repeated 
 with some minor details in a pamphlet entitled, ' An His- 
 torical Fragment' A friend of the Lightfoot family, who 
 received a letter on the subject of the marriage from a 
 cousin of the fair Quaker's, sent a copy of the epistle to the 
 Monthly Magazine of October, 1821. In this letter it is 
 stated that Hannah 'eloped in 1754, and was married to 
 Isaac Axford at Keith's Chapel, which my father discovered 
 about three weeks after, and none of her family have seen 
 her since, though her mother had a letter or two from her, 
 but at last died of grief.' The person who encloses the 
 communication adds, ' The general belief of her friends was, 
 that she was taken into keeping by Prince George directly 
 after her marriage to Axford, but never lived with him.'
 
 THE STORY OF THE FAIR QUAKER. 13 
 
 That such a union actually took place is now beyond all 
 doubt, the late Mr. John Jesse having discovered its entry 
 in the registers of marriage celebrated by Alexander Keith 
 in the books kept in his chapel, and removed in 1754 to 
 St George's Church, Hanover Square ; the writer has ob- 
 tained a certificate of the marriage, which was performed on 
 December u, 1753.* 
 
 Hannah according to a writer in Notes and Queries, July, 
 1853, who had, when a lad, heard his mother speak of the 
 fair Quaker, whose aunt, Anna Eleanor Lightfoot, was next- 
 door neighbour to his grandfather after her disappearance 
 was advertised for by her friends; when some time had 
 elapsed, they obtained information of her retreat, stating 
 that she was well provided for, and her condition became 
 known to them. ' A retreat was provided for her,' says this 
 writer, ' in one of those large houses surrounded with a high 
 wall and garden, in the district of Cat-and-Mutton Fields, on 
 the east side of Hackney Road, leading from Mile-End Road, 
 where she lived, and, it is said, died.' 
 
 * Mr. William J. Thorns, in his pamphlet entitled ' Hannah 
 Lightfoot,' thoroughly discredits the story that the good young 
 Prince ever had an intrigue with the fair Quaker. ' Whether 
 the King' (George III.), he says in his preface, 'has or has 
 not been made the scapegoat for his father, as has been 
 suggested, or any of his brothers, is not the question which I 
 undertake to investigate.' Frederick, Prince of Wales, however, 
 died in March, 1751, two years before the Lightfoot marriage 
 and subsequent scandal took place. Again Mr. Thorns says 
 ' The first thing that strikes one as remarkable with regard to 
 this piece of scandal is that no allusion to it is to be found 
 (at least, as far as I am able to trace) in any historical, 
 political, or satirical work published during the lifetime of 
 George III.' But two months after the publication of this 
 statement, he announces in the pages of Notes and Queries 
 that his ' attention has been called to a printed allusion to 
 this scandal as early as the year 1779,' which occurs in one 
 of the works of William Combe.
 
 14 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 Huish, in his ' Public and Private Life of his late Excellent 
 and most Gracious Majesty George III.,' which is dedicated 
 to that monarch's successor to the throne, refers to this 
 amour. ' His affections became enchained,' he says, speak- 
 ing of the Prince. ' He looked no more to Saxe-Gotha nor 
 to Brunswick for an object on which to lavish his love ; he 
 found one in the secret recesses of Hampton, whither he 
 often repaired, concealed by the protecting shades of night, 
 and there he experienced, what seldom falls to the lot of 
 princes, the bliss of the purest love. The object of his 
 affections became a mother, and strengthened the bond 
 between them. Being one day in the company of the late 
 Duke of Chandos, who appears to have been honoured with 
 his confidence, he expressed himself in the following terms : 
 ' Ah, Chandos, you are a happy man ; you are at liberty to 
 live with the woman of your choice, whilst I, the future King 
 of a great nation, shall perhaps, at some not very distant 
 period, be obliged to take to my arms a woman whom I have 
 never seen before, and whom perhaps I may never love." ' 
 
 Hannah Lightfoot is said to have borne the Prince two 
 sons, one of whom became mad, and, according to the 
 authority last quoted trom Notes and Queries, committed 
 suicide. Another of them, named George Rex, went to the 
 Cape of Good Hope; concerning him Mr. William Har- 
 rison, of Rockmount, Isle ot Man, writes to Notes and 
 Queries, February 9, 1861 : 'With respect to the son born 
 of this marriage' (the supposed legal union between the 
 Prince and the Quaker), ' and said to be still living at the 
 Cape of Good Hope, I think there must be some mistake. 
 I was at the Cape in 1830, and spent some time at Mr. 
 George Rex's hospitable residence at the Knysna. I under- 
 stood from him that he had been about thirty-four years a 
 resident in the colony, and I should suppose he was then 
 about sixty-eight years of age, of a strong, robust appearance, 
 and the exact resemblance in features to George III. This
 
 DEATH OF GEORGE II. 15 
 
 would bring him to about the time as stated when George 
 III, married Hannah Lightfoot. On Mr. Rex's first arrival 
 in the colony, he occupied a high situation in the colonial 
 government, and received an extensive grant of land at the 
 Knysna. He retired there, and made most extensive im- 
 provements. His eldest son was named John, at the time I 
 was there, living with his father, and will now most probably 
 be the representative of George Rex.' It is worth noting 
 that, when the Duke of Edinburgh visited the Cape, he was 
 entertained by a Mr. Rex, probably the Mr. John Rex just 
 referred to. 
 
 On the morning of October 25, 1760, George II. died 
 suddenly, and George William Frederick became King. 
 The manner in which he received the intelligence of his 
 grandfather's death was eminently characteristic of the new 
 monarch, and gave proof of that dissimulation which he 
 practised through life. He was riding from Kew to 
 London, when he was overtaken by a man on horseback, 
 who handed him a piece of coarse white-brown paper, on 
 which was written one word, ' Schrieder.' This was simply 
 the name of a German valet-de-chambre in the service of 
 the late King, with whom the Prince had privately entered 
 into an agreement that His Majesty's death should be com- 
 municated to him, immediately it took place, in this private 
 manner. 
 
 He received the intelligence with all the hereditary 
 stolidity of his race, briefly bade the messenger keep silent, 
 and then, turning to his groom and informing him, by way 
 of excuse for his return, that his horse was lame, rode back 
 to Kew. When the man ventured to state that the horse 
 was in good condition, George William Frederick made no 
 reply until he was dismounted; then he remarked, with 
 his usual calmness, ' I have said the horse is lame I forbid 
 you to say the contrary.' So he may be said to have 
 ascended the ihrone with a lie upon his lips.
 
 16 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 On Sunday, the next day after the death of his late 
 Majesty of blessed memory, the new King was proclaimed ; 
 first before his residence, Saville House, where the officers 
 of state, nobility, and privy counsellors were present with 
 the officers of arms, all being on foot ; then at Charing 
 Cross ; at Wood Street, in Cheapside ; and finally at the 
 Royal Exchange, the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Duke of 
 Leeds, and Lord Falmouth attending the procession into the 
 City. On Tuesday there was a leve"e held at Saville House. 
 
 ' To-day,' writes Horace Walpole, ' England kissed hands, 
 so did I, and it is more comfortable to kiss hands with all 
 England than to have all England ask why one kisses 
 hands. There is great dignity and grace in the King's 
 manner. I don't say this, like my dear Madame de Sevigne', 
 because he was civil to me, but the part is well acted. If 
 they do as well behind the scenes as upon the stage, it will 
 be a very complete reign.' 
 
 The opening of the new regime showed every sign ot 
 prosperity. Abroad, conquests had crowned the English 
 arms with fortune and glory ; at home, the factions which 
 had disturbed the peace and threatened the dynasty of the 
 two first Hanoverian monarchs had now become extinct , 
 the fever and discontent of Jacobitism had gradually worked 
 itself out, leaving the country in a more healthy state, and 
 the new King had, without any merit of his, become popular 
 with his subjects, on account of his youth, and of his 
 being the first monarch of his line who was born a Briton. 
 Moreover, the nation rejoiced in a state of prosperity, such 
 as it had seldom experienced, whilst the administration was 
 presided over by William Pitt, one of the most able and 
 brilliant statesmen the country had ever known. Yet this 
 fair prospect was gradually and totally changed by a proud 
 and narrow-minded woman and an ambitious, inexperienced 
 man. 
 
 Meanwhile all England generally, and London in parti-
 
 ENGLAND KISSES HANDS. 17 
 
 cular, was moved by the great social event which had taken 
 place. A monarch who had reached his seventy-seventh 
 year, who had become blind and deaf, whose levee-room 
 had grown to have ' an air of a lion's den,' was removed by 
 death, and in his place an English-speaking King, just 
 entering into manhood, ascended the throne. It was true 
 his subjects had seen or heard little of him ; as Lord 
 Chesterfield said, ' He was like a new Sultan dragged out 
 of the seraglio by the Princess and Lord Bute and placed 
 upon the throne.' But their slight knowledge of him 
 made them all the more curious to see this man who had 
 been made their King by the grace of God. Accordingly 
 courtiers and commoners rushed to be presented or to 
 present addresses, and the drawing-rooms were filled with 
 sufficient subjects to set up half a dozen petty Kings. 
 Amongst others, the good Lord Mayor, with his aldermen 
 all, came from the City, and, with as grave a face as he 
 could assume, told His Most Gracious Majesty 'that as 
 Almighty God had pleased to call to His mercy the late 
 Sovereign Lord, King George II. of blessed memory, whose 
 glorious reign and princely virtues must ever make his 
 memory dear to a grateful people, he, the Lord Mayor of 
 London City, begged leave to approach his gracious Sove- 
 reign's royal person, and to congratulate him on his accession 
 to the Imperial Crown of these happy realms.' 
 
 The merchants of London likewise presented an address 
 containing many expressions of loyalty, but this was far 
 eclipsed by that of the archbishop, dean and chapter, arch- 
 deacon and clergy of the diocese of Canterbury, who, after 
 condoling with His Sacred Majesty on the recent affliction 
 caused him through the death of his grandfather, assured 
 him of their sincerest joy on seeing the throne filled by one 
 who was heir to his virtues as well as his dominions, one 
 whose hereditary good dispositions had caused him to be 
 received as a blessing to his people. 
 
 i
 
 i8 COURT LIFE BELOW STATES. 
 
 All the thoroughfares leading to Saville House were 
 thronged with coaches and chairs, with lacqueys, soldiers, 
 and idlers, who collected to see the courtiers making their 
 way, or returning from seeing the new King ; the ladies 
 attired in mourning that consisted of 'black bombazine, 
 plain muslin, or long-lawn linnen, with crape hoods and 
 crape fans ;' the men of quality also in black suits, ' with- 
 out buttons on the sleeves and pockets, plain muslin or 
 long-lawn cravats and wrappers, shamoy shoes and gloves, 
 crape hat-bands, and black swords and buckles.' 
 
 On Sunday the King held a drawing-room at St. James's 
 when he exhibited a mighty gracious air, and had a smile 
 for all who approached him : he informed his stout old 
 uncle, the Duke ot Cumberland, he would introduce a new 
 custom into his family that of living in peace with all its 
 members. Indeed, the new reign not only began with a 
 prospect of domestic peace, but with a hearty denouncement 
 of wickedness. Before he had been a week on the throne, 
 the King issued a proclamation for the encouragement of 
 piety and virtue, and the suppression of ' all vice, profane- 
 ness, debauchery, and immorality, which are so highly dis- 
 pleasing to God, so great a reproach to religion and govern- 
 ment, and have so fatal a tendency to the corruption of 
 many of our loving subjects ;' furthermore, the proclama- 
 tion prohibited all persons ' of what degree or quality soever 
 from playing on the Lord's day at dice, cards, or any other 
 game whatever, either in public or private houses, or other 
 places whatsoever.' 
 
 All the ways and manners that had hitherto obtained in 
 the godless Court of the late King were, it appeared, to be 
 reversed ; persons of piety and virtue (if such could be 
 found) were to be distinguished by royal favour, the wicked 
 to be punished. So alarmed did Miss Chudleigh become 
 at such a turning of the tables, that this fair courtier, who 
 had permitted old George II. to stroke her under the chin
 
 WICKEDNESS DENOUNCED). 19 
 
 and kiss her at the drawing-rooms, assumed a virtue if she 
 had it not, and, to mark her rigour, called for the council 
 books of the subscription concert, and struck off the name 
 of Mrs. Naylor, whose life was not, alas ! surrounded with 
 an odour of sanctity. Perhaps it is not wonderful that, 
 owing to these pious changes, Dr. Seeker, now Archbishop 
 of Canterbury, whom the late King so detested that he had 
 refused to hear him preach, should in the first days of the 
 religious reign flatter himself with the idea of becoming First 
 Minister. 
 
 'The Bishop,' writes Horace Walpole, 'who had been 
 bred a Presbyterian and man mid-wife which sect and pro- 
 fession he had dropped for a season, while he was president 
 of a very free-thinking club has been converted by Bishop 
 Talbot, whose relation he married, and had his faith settled 
 in a prebend of Durham.' 
 
 His spiritual lordship was unwearying in his attentions 
 on the new King, having ' great hopes from the King's good- 
 ness that he should make something of him that is, some- 
 thing bad.'
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Loyal Subjects The King at the Playhouse What His 
 Majesty said to Lady Susan The Princess Dowager's 
 Alarm In Search of a Queen An Unknown Princess 
 Her Journey to England The Marriage Ceremony Loyal 
 Addresses The most Brilliant Drawing-room ever Known 
 Some Distinguished Courtiers The Coronation Cere- 
 mony What George Selwyn said Charles Edward Stuart 
 at the Coronation Banquet 
 
 NOT only the courtiers but the people were ready to honour 
 the King. 
 
 1 It is not strange,' says Lord Macaulay, ' that the senti- 
 ment of loyalty a sentiment which had lately seemed to be 
 as much out of date as the belief in witches, or the practice 
 of pilgrimage should from the day of his accession have 
 begun to revive.' 
 
 The first night he went to the play, a vast crowd assembled 
 round the theatre ; so great, indeed, was the crush, that the 
 ladies could not get to their boxes where their servants sat 
 keeping places for them. At His Majesty's entrance, the 
 audience rose up and sang ' God save the King ' in chorus ; 
 and towards the close of the second act the throng outside, 
 whose numbers had increased every moment, forced open 
 the doors, and crushed madly into the theatre. The play 
 selected was ' The Minor,' and the Archbishop, from some 
 expressions it contained, sought to have it changed. His 
 Grace of Devonshire, in writing to David Garrick on the 
 subject, says of Dr. Seeker : ' He would have authorised me
 
 THE KING AT THE PLAYHOUSE. 21 
 
 to have used his name to stop " The Minor," but I got off 
 from it, and concluded with sending a recommendation by 
 Mr. Pelham to the author, to alter those passages that are 
 liable to objection ; his Grace would not point them out.' 
 His Grace was a wary man ; had he made any alterations, 
 Foote, the author of the play, said he would have advertised 
 it as ' corrected and prepared for the press by his Grace the 
 Archbishop of Canterbury.' 
 
 The town became as gay as in the palmy days of George 
 II. The opera was crowded. Paganina, fat and forty, re- 
 ceived an ovation wherever she sang, Philip Elisi, the prime 
 tenore, was the idol of the hour, and David Garrick and 
 Mistress Kitty Clive played to thronged houses at old Drury 
 Lane. There were Drawing-rooms at the Court on Sundays 
 and Thursdays, and there were vast assemblies given by the 
 Duke of Cumberland, the Princess Amelia, the Duchesses 
 of Norfolk and Northumberland, where all the fashionable 
 world met, and gossipped, and danced, and gambled to their 
 heart's content. 
 
 In the midst of the gaiety, the King fell in love : the 
 object of his passion being on this occasion Lady Sarah 
 Lennox, the great-granddaughter of the gracious, pleasure- 
 loving Charles II., and daughter of Charles, second Duke 
 of Richmond. Walpole, whose taste was fastidious, espe- 
 cially where female beauty was concerned, after seeing her 
 acting in some amateur theatricals at Holland House, wrote 
 of her to George Montagu : ' Lady Sarah was more beau- 
 tiful than you can conceive : she was in white, with her hair 
 about her ears and on the ground ; no Magdalen by Cor- 
 reggio was ever half so lovely and expressive. t This descen- 
 dant of royalty was then at that most seductive period of 
 life when girlhood blossoms into lovely womanhood, and 
 was endowed with her full share of the hereditary beauty of 
 her house. She was certainly the fairest ornament at the
 
 22 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 new Court, and the King quickly showed his appreciation 
 of her graces by falling in love with her. Lady Sarah, highly 
 flattered by the royal conquest she had made, gave him 
 every opportunity of increasing his passion; she was fre- 
 quently at the Drawing-rooms of St. James's, and in the 
 mornings was to be seen attired in a fancy costume making 
 hay in the meadows close by Holland House, the residence 
 of her brother-in-law, Henry Fox, when the King was sure 
 to pass that way for his customary ride. 
 
 That the young Monarch intended to place her on the 
 throne, there can be little doubt. George Grenville says 
 that Thomas Pitt told him how the King, at one of the royal 
 Drawing-rooms, went up to Lady Susan Strangways, the 
 companion and confidant of Lady Sarah, and asked her in 
 a whisper if she did not think the coronation would be a 
 much finer sight if there was a Queen. She said, ' Yes.' 
 He then asked her if she did not know somebody who would 
 grace that ceremony in the properest manner. At this she 
 was much embarrassed, thinking he meant herself, but he 
 went on and said, 'I mean your friend, Lady Sarah Lennox. 
 Tell her so, and let me have her answer the next Drawing- 
 room day.' 
 
 In a memoir of Henry Fox, preserved in the Holland 
 House manuscripts, the following interesting details con- 
 cerning this affair of the royal heart are set down : 
 
 'On Thursday, Lady Susan (Strangways) was at Court 
 with Lady Albemarle, Lady Sarah on the other side of the 
 Room with Lady Caroline Fox. The King said to Lady 
 Susan: 
 
 ' " You are going into Somersetshire ; when do you 
 return ?" 
 
 ' Lady Susan " Not before Winter, Sir, and I don't 
 know how soon in Winter." 
 
 ' King " Is there nothing will bring you to town before 
 Winter ?"
 
 LADY SARAH OUT OF HUMOUR. 23 
 
 ' L. S. " I don't know of anything." 
 ' K. " Would you not like to see a Coronation ?" 
 'L. S. "Yes, Sir, and I hope I should come to see that." 
 ' K. " I hear it's very popular, my having put it off." 
 'L. S. [Nothing.] 
 
 ' K. " Won't it be a much finer sight when there is a 
 Queen ?" 
 
 ' L. S. " To be sure, Sir. 
 
 ' K. " I have had a great many applications from abroad, 
 but I don't like them. I have had none at home I should 
 like that better." 
 
 ' L. S. [Nothing (frightened).] 
 
 K. " What do you think of your Friend ? you know 
 who I mean. Don't you think Her fittest ?" 
 ' L. S. " Think, Sir ?" 
 K. " I think none so fit.' 
 
 He then went across the Room to Lady Sarah, bid Her 
 ask Her Friend what He had been saying, and make Her 
 tell Her, and tell Her all. She assur'd Him she would. 
 
 H. M. is not given to joke, and this would be a very bad 
 joke, too. Is it serious ? Strange if it is, and a strange way 
 or going about it. 
 
 We are all impatient to know, and the next Sunday, or 
 Sunday se'ennight, Lady Sarah go's to Court out of humour, 
 and had been crying all the morning. The moment the 
 King saw Her He goes to Her. 
 
 K. " Have you seen your Friend lately ?" 
 L. S. "Yes." 
 
 K. Has She told you what I said to Her ?" 
 1 L. S. " Yes." 
 ' K. " All ?" 
 L. S. "Yes." 
 ' K. " Do you approve ?" 
 
 4 L. S. made no Answer, but look'd as cross as she could 
 look.
 
 24 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 ' H. M., affronted, left her, seem'd confus'd ; and left the 
 Drawing-Room. ' 
 
 The second extract, which follows, taken also from the 
 Holland House MSS., was sent by Henry Fox, afterwards 
 Lord Holland, with a letter, to his wife, Lady Caroline. It 
 is dated April 14, 1781, It bears reference to the King's 
 marriage, and to an accident which the object of his ad- 
 miration met whilst on her journey to Somersetshire. 
 
 ' Tuesday. 
 To all whom it may concern. 
 
 ' On Sunday I heard from good Authority that the Re- 
 port of H. M.'s intended Marriage with a Princess of Bruns- 
 wick was entirely without foundation. And that He was 
 totally free and unengag'd. 
 
 ' On Monday, therefore, which was yesterday, I went to 
 Court. I saw the Marquis of Kildare and Conolly there, 
 to whom I thought H. M. had spoke, and probably might 
 not speak to me concerning Lady Sal I determin'd, how- 
 ever, that He should, if I could bring it about. After a 
 Loose Question or two, he in a 3rd supposes I am by this 
 time settled at Holland House, (Now I have you.) 
 
 ' " I never go there, Sir," says I ; " there is nobody 
 there." 
 
 1 " Where is Lady Caroline ?" 
 
 * " In Somersetshire with Lady Sarah." 
 
 ' At that name His Voice and Countenance, gentle and 
 gracious already, softened, and He colour'd a little. 
 
 ' " I am very glad to hear She is so well." 
 
 ' " As well as anybody can be with such an Accident, 
 but the Pain was terrible from the Motion of the Coach till 
 she got to Mr. HoareV 
 
 ' He drew up his Breath, wreath'd himself, and made a 
 Countenance of one feeling Pain himself. (Thinks I, you 
 shall hear of that again.) I added,
 
 THE PRINCESS BECOMES ALARMED. 25 
 
 * " She is extremely chearfull now, and patient and good- 
 humour'd to a degree." 
 
 ' " Was She going down a Steep Hill when the Horse 
 fell ?" 
 
 '"I believe not, Sir; the Horse put his foot upon a 
 Stone, which broke, and it was impossible He should not 
 fall. Lady Sarah, I hear," says I, " proposes to ride to 
 London upon the same Horse, to clear the Horse from all 
 blame." 
 
 * " That shews," says He, " a good Spirit in Lady Sarah, 
 but I trust there will be prudence in the Family to pre- 
 vent it." 
 
 ' " I fancy," says I, " Lady Caroline will dissuade it, but 
 indeed the Horse was not to blame. In rising again, his 
 Shoulder press'd Lady Sarah's leg upon the Stones of which 
 that Road is full, and broke it" 
 
 ' Then came the same Countenance and Expressions of 
 Uneasiness, which I rather increas'd by talking again of the 
 Pain the motion of the Coach gave ; and then reliev'd by 
 assuring him that she had nothing hard to bear now but the 
 Confinement. 
 
 '"I fancy," says He, "that is not very easy to Lady 
 Sarah." 
 
 'And then He left me for some conversation which 
 neither gave him so much pain nor so much pleasure as 
 mine had done. 
 
 ' Don't tell Lady Sarah that I am sure He intends to 
 marry her, for I am not sure of it. Whether Lady Sarah 
 shall be told what I am sure of, I leave to the Reader's 
 Judgment. I am sure that He loves Her better than N. 
 (Lord Newbottle) do's. 
 
 'I have shortened, not exaggerated, a Word in this ac- 
 count, and I don't think it was prevention made me imagine 
 something particular whenever he pronounced especially the 
 last Lady Sarah '
 
 26 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 Matters had arrived at this point when the Princess, ever 
 jealous of her son, became alarmed ; a future Queen, chosen 
 by her, and, therefore, placed under a life-long obligation 
 to her, might be held under the same influence as that 
 which bound the King, and in this manner the Princess 
 might still be enabled to govern the kingdom ; but, if Lady 
 Sarah were placed on the throne, all such ambitious hopes 
 must come to a speedy end. There was, therefore, no time 
 to be lost. The Princess privately despatched Colonel 
 Graeme, as the Memoirs 01 the Reign ot George III.' 
 state, to visit various little Protestant Courts and make 
 report of the qualifications or the several unmarried Prin- 
 cesses. Beauty, and still less talents, were not, it is likely, 
 the first object ot his instructions. On the testimony of 
 this man, the golden apple was given to the Princess ot 
 Mecklenburg. 
 
 But, whilst Colonel Graeme was travelling on his private 
 mission, the Princess was busy at home. She was deter 
 mined to end the King's love-affair, and for this purpose 
 called to her aid her cavalier, Lord Bute, and her eldest 
 daughter, the Princess Augusta. A strict watch was placed 
 on the King's movements ; his mother informed him that 
 Lady Sarah ' was a bad young woman,' and the Princess 
 Augusta, with right royal manners, taunted her in the Draw- 
 ing-room, laughed in her face, and strove to affront her 
 moreover, Lady Bute had received private instructions to 
 interrupt as far as possible all whisperings between the 
 lovers. 
 
 Meanwhile, there were rumours abroad concerning the 
 King's marriage. ' The private attachments of the King,' 
 says Huish, speaking of this time, ' now became the sub- 
 ject of general conversation. The alarm was industriously 
 spread throughout the country of the danger to which it 
 was exposed from a spurious offspring of the Sovereign ; the 
 extent of his amours was investigated in the most inquisi-
 
 THE PRINCESS OF MECKLENBURG. 27 
 
 torial manner ; the circumstance of his being a father was 
 bruited about as corroborative of the pressing necessity of 
 an immediate union with some foreign Princess .... The 
 pen of satire was employed to hold up to ridicule the 
 amours of the Sovereign. The most scurrilous lampoons 
 issued daily from the corrupted press, and the dexterity 
 which distinguished their composition could only be equalled 
 by the eagerness with which they were bought' 
 
 On July 7, 1761, the King's messengers were suddenly 
 despatched to all Privy Councillors in order to summon 
 them to a meeting to be held at one o'clock next day at St. 
 James's, the object of which, they were told, was urgent 
 and important business. The business, however, consisted 
 in announcing His Majesty's intended marriage with 
 Charlotte, daughter of Charles Louis, Duke of Mirow, the 
 second son of the Duke of Mecklenburg-Strelitz. This 
 illustrious lady was quite unknown to those over whom 
 she was destined to reign. ' Till that hour,' says Walpole, 
 'perhaps not six men in England knew such a Princess 
 existed.' 
 
 The King, like his subjects, was kept in ignorance of the 
 arrangements which were being made for his union for a 
 considerable time, and up to the very day of its announce 
 ment had carried on his courtship with Lady Sarah, who 
 only heard of the alliance when it was publicly declared. 
 Neither His Majesty, the cabinet, nor the people looked 
 favourably on this marriage with an insignificant Princess, 
 and in the minds of the populace distrust was added to 
 dislike by reason of the secret manner in which it was 
 arranged. But the King was too weak, and had been too 
 long under the control of his mother and Lord Bute, to 
 oppose their wishes in any way ; he therefore complacently, 
 accepted the wife selected for him without a murmur, and 
 Lord Harcourt was sent to demand the hand of this almost 
 unheard-of Princess in marriage with the King of England.
 
 23 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 'The handkerchief has been tossed a vast way,' writes 
 Horace Walpole to Horace Mann ; ' it is to a Charlotte, 
 Princess of Mecklenburg. Lord Harcourt is to be at her 
 lather's Court if he can find it on August i, and the 
 coronation for both their Majesties is fixed for Septem- 
 ber 22.' 
 
 Matters were thus hurried on from various reasons, one 
 of which was given by Lord Bute in writing to the Duke of 
 Bedford : ' The numberless stories and insolent untruths,' 
 says his intriguing lordship, ' propagated most artfully about 
 this town have induced me to think that in accelerating the 
 measure I was doing no unacceptable service to my King 
 and country.' Whether the stories and untruths which this 
 honourable patriot refers to were anent Hannah Lightfoot 
 or were merely the more innocent gossip which introduced 
 Lady Sarah Lennox's name it is impossible to say. Lady 
 Sarah was disappointed, but not heart-broken, by the pro- 
 ject of the royal marriage, as may be judged from a letter 
 of hers to Lady Susan Strangways yet preserved in the 
 Holland House MSS., which throws considerable light 
 upon her feelings. This epistle bears the date, July 7, 1761, 
 and runs as follows : 
 
 'Mv DEAREST SUSAN, 
 
 ' . . . To begin to astonish you as much as I was, I 
 must tell you that the King is going to be married to a 
 Princess of Mecklenburg, and that I am sure of it. There 
 is a Council to-morrow on purpose. The orders for it are 
 urgent and important business ; does not your Chollar rise 
 at hearing this ? But you think, I dare say, that I have been 
 doing some terrible thing to deserve it, for you would [not] 
 easily be brought to change so totally your opinion of any 
 person, but I assure you I have not ... I shall take care to 
 show I am not mortified to anybody, but, if it is true that 
 one can vex anybody with a reserved, cold manner, he shall
 
 ENGLAND'S FUTURE QUEEN. 29 
 
 have it, I promise him. Now as to what I think about it 
 myself, excepting this little revenge, I have almost forgiven 
 him ; luckily for me I did not love him, and only liked, nor 
 did the title weigh anything with me. So little, at least, 
 that my disappointment did not affect my spirits above one 
 hour or two, I believe ; I did not cry, I assure you, which I 
 believe you will, as I know you were more set upon it than 
 I was. The thing I am most angry at is looking so like a 
 fool, as I shall for having gone so often for nothing ; but I 
 don't much care. If he was to change his mind again 
 (which can't be though), and not give a very good reason for 
 his conduct, I would not have him ; for if he is so weak as to 
 be governed by everybody, I shall have but a bad time of it 
 Now I charge you, dear Lady Sue, not to mention this to 
 anybody but Lord and Lady Ilchester, and desire them not 
 to speak of it to any mortal, for it will be said we invent 
 Storries, and he will hate us all anyway ; for one generally 
 hates people that one is in the wrong with, and that knows 
 one has acted wrong, particularly if they speak of it, 
 and it might do a great deal of harm to all the rest of the 
 family and do me no good. So pray remember this, for a 
 secret among many people is very bad, and I must tell it 
 some . . . 
 
 ' We are to act a play and have a little ball. I wish you 
 were here to enjoy them ; but they are forwarded for Ste, 
 and to show that we are not so melancholy quite.' 
 
 'Lord Harcourt discovered the Court of Mecklenburg, 
 and found England's future Queen enjoying an existence of 
 rustic simplicity. She only dressed en grande tenue on 
 Sundays, when, after service, she was allowed to put on her 
 best gown, and then taken for an airing in a great, rumbling 
 coach round her brother's principality. At the time when it 
 was proposed she should become a Royal Sovereign, she 
 had never ' dined at table.' But one morning her eldest
 
 30 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 brother came to her accompanied by his mother ; he told 
 her to put on her best clothes, for an ambassador from the 
 King of England had come to visit them, and she should 
 dine with them that day for the first time. The poor little 
 Princess was delighted, and asked her mother if she should 
 ' put on her blue tabby and her jewellery,' to which the 
 elder lady made answer, ' Man enfant, tu rien as point? 
 When she went down to the saloon, decked in her holiday 
 finery, she saw it was more brilliantly lighted than usual, and 
 noticed that at one end stood a table and two cushions, as 
 if preparations had been made for a wedding. Her brother 
 then gave her his hand, and said to the bewildered Princess, 
 ' Allans, ne faites pas F enfant tu. vas etre Reine (TAngle- 
 terre,' when the ceremony of marriage by proxy was gone 
 through. 
 
 Rapid preparations were then made for her journey to 
 England, and an outfit for the royal bride was prepared, to 
 defray the expenses of which, according to Huish, five years' 
 income of the little principality was required. This, it may 
 be mentioned, the English nation was made to make amends 
 for, and, moreover, the King soon granted his impoverished 
 brother-in-law a pension, which was duly levied on the 
 Irish establishment. 
 
 The new Queen was small and lean in person, pale and 
 insignificant looking in appearance; her hair was dark 
 brown, her nose flat, and her mouth extremely wide. Her 
 manners in no way counterbalanced her want of personal 
 attraction, and throughout her life she betrayed a selfish, 
 avaricious disposition, incapable of generosity or considera- 
 tion for others outside her family. Together with Lord 
 Harcourt, the Duchesses of Ancaster and Hamilton had 
 been sent to conduct her to England ; ' but, as an earnest 
 of the prison prepared for her,' says Walpole, c and to keep 
 her in that state of ignorance which was essential to the 
 views of the Princess, they were forbidden to see her alone.'
 
 HER MAJESTY SUPS. 31 
 
 The royal yacht despatched for her conveyance was, by way 
 of delicate compliment to her re-named the Charlotte, and 
 was furnished with a arpsichord, on which, during her 
 journey to England, she played continually, accompanying 
 herself as she sang some dreary Calvinistic hymns, which 
 she had been wont to chant in her isolated home. 
 
 A quaint account of her arrival is given in a little pamphlet 
 writ by one Joseph Taylor. 
 
 ' At length,' says this good man and loyal, ' after different 
 storms, and being often in sight of the English coast, and 
 often in danger of being driven on that of Norway, the 
 fleet, with Her Most Serene Highness on board, arrived at 
 Harwich on September 6th. As it was night when the fleet 
 arrived, Her Most Serene Highness slept on board, and 
 continued there till three in the afternoon of the next day, 
 during which time her route had been settled, and instruc- 
 tions received as to the manner of her proceeding to St. 
 James's. At her landing she was received by the mayor 
 and aldermen of Harwich with the usual formalities. 
 About five o'clock she came to Colchester, and stopped at 
 the house of Mr. Enew, where she was received and waited 
 upon by Mrs. Enew and Mrs. Rebow; but Captain Best 
 attended her with coffee, and Lieutenant John Seabear with 
 tea. Being thus refreshed, she proceeded to Witham, where 
 she arrived at a quarter-past seven, and stopped at Lord 
 Abercorn's, and his Lordship provided as elegant an enter- 
 tainment for her as time would permit. 
 
 ' During the time of her supping, the door of her room 
 was ordered to be wide open, that everybody might have 
 the pleasure and satisfaction of seeing Her Majesty, and on 
 each side of her chair stood the Lords Harcourt and Anson 
 The fruits were choice melons, figs, pears, etc., and many 
 other sorts, both in and out of season. She slept that night 
 at his Lordship's house, and a little after twelve o'clock on 
 Tuesday came to Romford, where she stopped at Mr.
 
 32 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 Button's, wine merchant The King's coach and servants 
 met Her Majesty there, and she was by them served with 
 coffee at this house. She stayed there till almost one o'clock, 
 and then entered the King's coach. The attendants of Her 
 Majesty were in three coaches; in the first were some ladies 
 from Mecklenburg, and in the last was Her Majesty, who 
 sat forward, and the Duchesses of Ancaster and Hamilton 
 backward. Her Majesty was dressed entirely in the English 
 taste ; she wore a fly-cap, with rich lace lappets, a stomacher 
 ornamented with diamonds, and a gold brocade suit of 
 clothes with a white ground. 
 
 * They proceeded at a tolerable pace, attended by an in- 
 credible number of spectators, both on horse and foot, to 
 Stratford-le-Bow and Mile-end turnpike, where they turned 
 up Dog-Row, and prosecuted their journey to Hackney 
 turnpike, then by Shoreditch Church and up Old Street to 
 City Road, across Islington, along the New Road into 
 Hyde Park, down Constitution Hill into St. James's Park, 
 and then to the garden gate of the palace, where Her 
 Majesty was handed out of her coach by the Duke of 
 Devonshire (as Lord Chamberlain) to the gate, where she 
 was received by His Royal Highness the Duke of York. 
 As Her Majesty alighted from her coach, His Majesty 
 descended the steps from the palace into the garden, and 
 they met each other half-way ; and, as Her Majesty was 
 going to pay her obeisance, the King took hold of her 
 hand, raised her up, saluted it, and then led her upstairs.' 
 
 At this meeting, Gait says, ' an involuntary expression of 
 the King's countenance revealed what was passing within, 
 but it was a passing cloud.' 
 
 All the town had been in a state of excitement and 
 expectancy for three days previous to her arrival ; messen- 
 gers had reached London from Harwich announcing that 
 she had arrived, meaning in the Harwich road, which was 
 at once translated into landing. This news added fresh
 
 ' NO JOKE TO ME? 33 
 
 zest to the general bustle ; the courtiers held discussions on 
 precedence, and talked of nothing but processions, the City 
 made great preparations for the entry, the bridesmaids, ten 
 in number, were waiting with impatience, the guns were 
 loaded, and the New Road and parks were filled with 
 citizens anxious to catch sight of their future Queen. 
 
 At last her diminutive Majesty came, looking very plain 
 and rather comical, arrayed in the finery of her fly-cap and 
 lace lappets, and pale with fatigue and anxiety. 
 
 1 Ah ! my dear Duchess,' she said plaintively to her 
 Grace of Hamilton, who had smiled when she saw that the 
 little lady trembled, c you may laugh, you have been married 
 twice, but it is no joke to me.' 
 
 Then the cannon roared from St. James's and the Tower, 
 and the mob cheered lustily, and in the City were vast 
 rejoicings. 
 
 The King and his consort dined with all the royal family, 
 and afterwards their gracious Majesties were so good as to 
 show themselves in the gallery and other apartments fronting 
 the Park to the people, who cheered them with great 
 heartiness. 
 
 At nine o'clock the marriage procession began to move 
 towards the chapel, the bride being conducted by the King's 
 brothers, the Duke of York and Prince William, and pre- 
 ceded by one hundred and twenty ladies in extremely rich 
 dresses. She was attired in a nuptial habit of white and 
 silver; 'an endless mantle of violet-coloured velvet, lined 
 with ermine, and attempted to be fastened on her shoulder 
 by a huge bunch of large pearls, dragged itself and almost 
 the rest of her clothes half-way down her waist,' says Horace 
 Walpole, who was present at the brilliant ceremony. ' On 
 her head was a beautiful little tiara of diamonds ; a diamond 
 necklace, and a stomacher of diamonds, worth three-score 
 thousand pounds, which she is to wear at the corona- 
 tion too.' Her bridesmaids were the daughters of six 
 
 ** 3
 
 34 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 dukes, and her train was supported by the daughters of six 
 earls. 
 
 The King's uncle, the Duke of Cumberland, gave the 
 bride away, and the ceremony was performed by the Arch- 
 bishop of Canterbury, at the conclusion of which the guns 
 roared once more from St. James's and the Tower, as a 
 signal to the people that their King was wed. Then these 
 two who had been made one sat at the right side of the 
 altar under a canopy, the bridesmaids grouped around the 
 bride, ' all dressed alike in white lute-string with silver trim- 
 mings, with pearls, diamonds, etc. ; a dress that attracted 
 the eyes of everyone.' Opposite them sat the Princess 
 Dowager of Wales in a chair of state, the rest of the royal 
 family on stools, and 'the quality on benches, which con- 
 sisted of all the foreign ministers, including Monsieur Bussy, 
 all the peers and peeresses of the kingdom, together with the 
 bishops.' 
 
 At night the cities of London and Westminster were 
 brilliantly lighted ; bands played right merrily ; and vast 
 crowds of people filled the streets. During the illumina- 
 tions several persons, according to Lloyd's Evening Post, 
 ' had their clothes very much burnt by having squibs and 
 serpents put into their pockets, sleeves of their coats, etc. ; 
 particularly near Charing Cross, where a woman was so much 
 burnt and terrified as to be carried away almost dead.' 
 
 Addresses, all more or less notable for their ponderous 
 phrases, abject expressions, and flights of fancy when the 
 royal personages were referred to, poured in on the Sovereign 
 and his gracious spouse. The Lord Mayor, bluff aldermen, 
 and Common Council or the City, the latter arrayed in all 
 the finery of new mazarine lined with fur, and wearing full- 
 bottomed wigs, majestic to behold, informed the King they 
 ' adored the divine goodness that, as in all your Majesty's 
 other conduct, so more particularly in a choice of the highest 
 importance to your Majesty and your kingdoms, hath so
 
 WHAT THE WISE VTRGINS SAID. 35 
 
 visibly guided and inspired your royal breast.' These wise 
 gentlemen referred to the Queen, of whom they knew nothing 
 whatsoever, ' as a Princess of most exalted merit, a Princess 
 who, by her descent from an illustrious lineage (respectable 
 for their firm and constant zeal for the Protestant religion), 
 was most worthy to engage your Majesty's esteem and 
 affection, and to share the honours of the British crown.' 
 
 The most amusing of these stilted compositions was the 
 humble address of the ladies of the borough of St. Albans to 
 the Queen's most excellent Majesty. 'Formed by Nature,' 
 said these daughters of Eve to their sovereign lady, ' and 
 improved by the completest education, you were selected 
 by the best of Kings to add the only happiness that was 
 wanting in this world.' 
 
 What follows this eloquence is much more to the purpose, 
 and shows that the ladies of the borough of St. Albans had 
 homely wit. 
 
 ' As subjects,' said these wise virgins, ' are greatly in- 
 fluenced by the example of their Sovereign, we have the 
 strongest reason to hope that the matrimonial state will be 
 duly honoured by your Majesty's dutiful subjects cheerfully 
 following the royal example ; an example too much wanted 
 in this degenerate age, wherein that happy state is made the 
 object of ridicule instead of respect by too many of vain, 
 giddy, and dissipated minds. If the riches of a nation con- 
 sist in its populousness, this happy country will in that 
 respect too soon become poor, whilst the lawful means to 
 continue posterity are either shackled by the restraint of 
 mistaken laws, or despised by those who regard none.' 
 
 The day after the royal marriage, there was the most 
 brilliant drawing-room held at St. James's ' ever known to 
 the memory of man :' when the Spanish, Dutch, Tripolitan, 
 and Moorish ambassadors attended in gorgeous apparel pro- 
 cured specially for the occasion. The great suite of apart- 
 ments opening from one to another were crowded with men 
 
 32
 
 # COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 and women of the highest rank in the nation, all arrayed in 
 the bravery of new clothes ; the ladies bejewelled and be- 
 wigged, with patches upon cheek and chin, enormous head- 
 dresses piled high with false hair, decked with many orna- 
 ments, and surmounted with plumes of ostrich feathers ; the 
 men in square-cut velvet or satin coats of brilliant hues, the 
 skirts distended with wire and buckram ; with satin waist- 
 coats, glittering with gold embroidery, deep of pocket and 
 wide of gap ; and high-drawn silk stockings, amber, crimson, 
 or blue. Moreover, for their further adornment they wore 
 rich point-lace cravats and ruffles, diamond-hilted swords, 
 and carried lace-bordered, perfumed handerchiefs in hands 
 that were radiant with jewels. 
 
 The sight of so much splendour awes Her Majesty, who 
 stares at the goodly show that passes before her, waving its 
 painted fans, fluttering its delicate ruffles, courtesying with 
 inexpressible grace, smiling as if radiant with the happiness 
 of heaven, whispering elaborately turned compliments, 
 bandying phrases gemmed with sparkling wit, and detailing 
 the latest scandal with an air of sweetness that would have 
 become the utterance of a prayer. She speaks of none of 
 these, for her knowledge of English is scant indeed, and her 
 French but tolerable; but instead of words she gives her 
 courtiers many smiles, which evidences of amiability are 
 ridiculed by some of the worthy ladies, who declare ' her 
 face is all mouth when she laughs,' and who titter behind 
 their fans when she gives one of those sudden little ducks 
 which do duty for a courtesy. 
 
 The King to-day has lost all traces of his habitual sullen 
 aspect, his florid face beams with smiles, his round blue eyes 
 are bright, his manner unusually unrestrained and agreeable. 
 Near him stands Charles Lennox, third Duke of Richmond, 
 who is young, singularly handsome, and as gallant as his fair 
 admirers could desire ; close by is another courtier, a rival 
 of his Grace's, and, like him, descended from the Royal
 
 A DRAWING-ROOM AT ST. JAMESES. 37 
 
 Stuart line, Augustus Henry, the young Duke of Grafton, 
 who is without the graceful bearing or comely looks of his 
 more favoured kinsman. Lady Sarah Lennox is the most 
 beautiful amongst that stately throng, and many eyes are 
 critically turned from her to the colourless face of the Queen, 
 whom one good courtier declares is possessed of ' an elegant 
 plainness.' Old Lady Exeter stands near Her Majesty, and 
 bluntly informs the King ' he is the handsomest man she 
 ever saw,' upon which he laughs, being greatly pleased, and 
 the Queen looks puzzled, until the flattering words are 
 repeated to her in guttural German, when she indulges in 
 one of those smiles that render her mouth like a cavern. 
 The handsome Duchess of Hamilton and Argyll, once the 
 penniless Maria Gunning, who was married with a bed- 
 curtain ring, at half an hour after twelve at night, at Mayfair 
 Chapel, and who became the wife of two Scotch dukes 
 and the mother of four, is there laughing at a droll story 
 which George Townshend tells her : for he has a reputation 
 for wit, and is a mimic of uncommon ability, whose favourite 
 butt is the old Duke of Cumberland. 
 
 Not far removed from her Grace is a man whom she 
 detests, though she differs in this from many of her sex, to 
 the injury of their good names ; this is my Lord Talbot, 
 who is now Lord Steward of the Household, a man of some 
 parts, and of fashion, as may be inferred from the fact that 
 a certain Duchess had been divorced for his sweet sake from 
 her lawful lord and master. My Lord, who has the reputa- 
 tion of being a man who loves gold greatly, is a favourite 
 with the King, who has been exceedingly gracious to him 
 to-day a fact which the Duchess of Bedford remarks to 
 George Selwyn, courtier and wit ' Yes,' replies Selwyn, 
 ' His Majesty's condescension is so great, he takes notice of 
 the meanest of his subjects.' Then he tells her Grace, 
 with a slow and solemn air, as if he were imparting a State 
 secret, that the brusque Lady Northumberland has been
 
 38 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 appointed one of the ladies of the bedchamber, because, as 
 Her Majesty knew no English, her Ladyship had undertaken 
 to teach her the vulgar tongue. 
 
 Two of the royal bridesmaids stand by the Queen, both 
 young and beautiful, Lady Harriet Bentinck and Lady 
 Caroline Russell, and by them my Lord Errol, whose stout 
 person is dressed in tissue that makes him look like one of 
 the giants in Guildhall new gilt. The old Duke of New- 
 castle, shrivelled looking and gouty and restless, hurries' 
 from one group to another, smiling on all ; a man ' not 
 without parts,' says Lord March, with a cynical smile. 
 ' Certainly not,' answers one of the wits who overheard him, 
 ' he has done without them for forty years. Amongst the 
 vast throng is Lady Kildare, famous for her beauty, and the 
 charming Lady Sutherland, and many other fair women and 
 gallant men, loyal courtiers all. 
 
 But this Drawing-Room, the centre of so much splendour, 
 did not pass without a ridiculous incident to mark it. The 
 accident referred to happened to Bubb Dodington, a special 
 friend of the Princess Dowager, an ambitious courtier, and 
 a rare fop. He had come to the Drawing-Room, and 
 approached to kiss Her Majesty's hand, as Cumberland 
 says, 'decked in an embroidered suit of silk, with lilac 
 waistcoat and breeches, the latter of which, in the act of 
 kneeling down, forgot their duty, and broke loose from their 
 moorings in a very indecorous and uncourtly manner.' 
 
 During the remainder ol the week, my Lords Newcastle 
 and Talbot and Mr. Pitt gave entertainments, as befitted 
 loyal gentlemen rejoicing with their sovereign lord. One 
 night in this gleeful time was devoted to the drama ; the 
 King and Queen went to Drury Lane play-house to see 
 David Garrick perform in ' The Rehearsal,' which had been 
 writ, in the days when the second Charles reigned as King, 
 by the reckless, graceless George Villiers, Duke of Bucking- 
 ham, a man of great parts and infinite wit. Their Majesties
 
 GOING TO SEE GARRICK. 39 
 
 were carried in chairs, the King being preceded by the 
 Duke of Devonshire, his Lord Chamberlain ; and the Hon. 
 Mr. Finch, Vice-Chamberlain ; Her Majesty by her Lord 
 Chamberlain, his Grace of Manchester ; my Lord Cantalup, 
 her Vice-Chamberlain ; my Lord Harcourt, her Master of 
 the Horse ; and likewise by the Duchess of Ancaster and 
 the Countess of Effingham. Then came the royal family 
 in coaches, the ladies and gentlemen of the Court, attended 
 by the Horse Guards, and a mighty fine procession it made. 
 The people were all abroad to see it, and lined the streets 
 from St. James's to Drury Lane, crushing, surging, and 
 striving to catch a sight of the plain little woman, decked 
 out in brocade and a vast number of diamonds, who sat 
 quietly in her chair, and looked frighted at so great a crowd 
 that doubled the number of her brother's subjects. Round 
 the play-house the throng was prodigious ; a few minutes 
 after the doors were opened, every part of the theatre was 
 full. Never was there so brilliant a house. In all the 
 boxes were the ladies of the Court, dressed in the clothes 
 and decked with the jewels they wore at the royal wedding , 
 the gentlemen who accompanied them being likewise ap- 
 parelled in much finery. 
 
 Outside was quite a different scene. The crowd increased 
 every moment ; thousands were disappointed at not being 
 able to get inside the theatre, and all was bustle and excite- 
 ment ; several gentlewomen who attempted an entrance 
 had their cloaks, caps, aprons, and handkerchiefs torn from 
 them, and many gallants had the bags of their wigs, their 
 swords, and money stolen. Some of the people were thrown 
 down, the chairmen were hustled about, a girl was killed, 
 and a man trampled upon. 
 
 However, all these sights and celebrations were but pre- 
 liminaries to the grand ceremony of the coronation. Great 
 preparations were made for the event; galleries were erected 
 in Westminster Hall and in the Abbey, and a platform was
 
 40 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 erected from the upper end of the Hall, where the proces- 
 sion was to commence, and continued through New Palace 
 Yard, Parliament Street, and Bridge Street, into King 
 Street, and on to the west door of the Abbey and the 
 choir, where the coronation was to take place. 
 
 About eleven o'clock, on September 22, the procession 
 started, headed by the King's herb-woman, with her six 
 maids, strewing the way with sweet herbs, followed by the 
 Dean of Westminster's beadle, with a mighty staff in his 
 hand, and the high constable of Westminster, his person 
 arrayed in the great glory of a scarlet cloak. Then came 
 fifes, drums, and trumpeters ; six wise Clerks in Chancery, 
 in gowns of black, and with silk loops and tufts upon the 
 sleeves ; the King's Chaplains, four abreast, all goodly men 
 and meek ; the two Sheriffs of London, the Recorder, 
 thirteen Aldermen in their gowns, with caps in their hands ; 
 the King's Attorney, and his ancient sergeant, looking 
 mighty grave : the gentlemen of the Privy Chamber, Barons 
 of the Exchequer, Justices of both Benches in scarlet robes; 
 the Chief Baron, with his great gold collar ; the choristers 
 of the Abbey in surplices ; the sergeant of the vestry and 
 sergeant porter in scarlet gowns, clad likewise with an air of 
 vast importance; the children of the Chapel Royal in 
 surplices, with scarlet mantles over them ; the choir of 
 Westminster, with their music-books ; the organ-blower and 
 groom of the vestry ; gentlemen of the Chapel Royal in 
 scarlet mantles ; the Sub-Dean, in a scarlet gown turned 
 up with black velvet ; the Prebendaries of Westminster in 
 surplices and capes, with their caps in their hands ; the 
 Master of the Jewel-house and his officers all ; the Bath 
 King-of-Arms, in the habit of his Order, carrying his 
 coronet in his hand. Then carne a vast throng of 
 Baronesses, Barons, Bishops, Viscountesses, Viscounts, 
 Countesses and Earls, Marchionesses and Marquesses, 
 Duchesses and Dukes, all presenting a magnificent spec-
 
 NEVER WAS SUCH A SIGHT. 41 
 
 tacle, arrayed in the gorgeous robes of State, and adorned 
 with the magnificent badges of their various orders. 
 
 After them followed my Lord Chancellor, bearing the 
 purse, and my Lord Archbishop of Canterbury in his 
 rochet, attended by two gentlemen of the Privy Chamber 
 in crimson velvet mantles lined with white silk, faced with 
 miniver and trimmed with ermine ; then the Queen's Cham- 
 berlain, and his Grace of Bolton, bearing her crown ; and 
 finally Her Majesty in proper person, in her royal robes, on her 
 head a circlet of gold adorned with jewels, walking demurely 
 under a canopy of cloth of gold, borne by sixteen Barons 
 of the Cinque Ports, her train supported by Her Royal 
 Highness the Princess Augusta, and at either side of her 
 their Spiritual Lordships of London and Lincoln. Then 
 came the King's regalia, the Lord Great Chamberlain of 
 England bearing the white staff, the Duke of Cumberland, 
 the Duke of York, and finally the King, under a great 
 canopy of gold, his train supported by six eldest sons of 
 peers. 
 
 Never was such a glorious sight seen before. In all the 
 streets through which the brilliant procession moved, bal- 
 conies had been erected on either side, which were hung 
 with gay flags, brocaded cloths, and tapestry, and were filled 
 with a vast concourse of people ; banners waved, crowds 
 cheered, and the sound of trumpets and drums, bravely dis- 
 coursing processional music, was almost drowned by the 
 jangle of bells that rang out from every steeple, tower, and 
 turret. 
 
 Amongst those peers and peeresses, decked out in all the 
 finery of pomp and State, were some men and women on 
 whom the crowd looked down from balcony, window, and 
 roof with interest and admiration. There was my Lord 
 Errol whose unhappy father, Lord Kilmarnock, had but a 
 few years ago been condemned to the block in this hall, the 
 scene of the coronation figuring as the High Constable of
 
 42 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 Scotland, and looking as loyal a man as any ; and close by 
 him my Lord Effingham, who had that morning owned to 
 the King that the Earl Marshal's office had been neglected 
 in some of the details of ceremony, but assured His Majesty 
 he had taken such care for the future that the next corona- 
 tion would be regulated in the most exact manner imagin- 
 able. My Lady Harrington was there, covered with all the 
 diamonds she could borrow, hire, or seize, and looked 
 extremely fine. She had complained a few days before that 
 the herald had ordered her to walk with Lady Portsmouth, 
 who would wear a wig and carry a stick. 'Pho!' said George 
 Selwyn, to whom she had told her grievance, ' you will only 
 look as if you were taken up by the constable.' 
 
 She was not, however, the only peeress who was dissatis- 
 fied with the partner assigned her for the procession. Lady 
 Cowper proudly refused to walk with my Lady Macclesfield, 
 because she was ' a common woman ' (heaven help us !) 
 whom her lord was mad enough to marry ; but, when she 
 was forced to obey the herald's orders, the haughty Countess 
 set out at a round trot, and kept ahead of her companion 
 all the way. The old Duchess of Queensberry, kind-hearted 
 and mad the friend of Gay and Swift, both of whom had 
 now passed into silence and shadow-land was in the pro- 
 cession, erect and with locks white as snow, feeling anxious 
 to whisper to those around her, whenever opportunity 
 offered, that her Grace ot Bedford was so painted ' she 
 looked like an orange-peach, half red, half yellow.' My 
 Lady Suffolk, the mistress of George II., was likewise pre- 
 sent, and old Lady Westmoreland, full of years and dignity; 
 and so was my Lady Exeter, who was also venerable. 
 
 When the great coronation show had traversed the pre- 
 scribed route, it returned to the Abbey, where, after some 
 ceremonies, the Archbishop of Canterbury set the crown on 
 His Majesty's head ; on which the peers put on their 
 coronets, the Dukes of Normandv and Aquitaine their hats,
 
 THE CORONATION. 43 
 
 the bishops, Knights of the Bath, and judges their caps, 
 and the Kings-of-Arms their crowns. Then the Te Deum 
 was sung ; the spiritual lords paid homage to the King, 
 and the lords temporal likewise, each peer taking off his 
 coronet, touching the King's crown, and kissing his cheek, 
 and medals of their Sacred Majesties were thrown about by 
 the Treasurer ot the Household ; so also was the Queen 
 crowned, and there was much rejoicing. 
 
 After the coronation, their Majesties entered into the 
 Court of Wards, until the great oanquet in Westminster Hall 
 was ready. This was not until evening, and when the King 
 arrived, he found the place all in darkness, its illumination 
 being reserved for his entry as a compliment. 
 
 'Conceive to yourself,' says a correspondent, writing of 
 the banquet, ' if you can conceive, what I own I am at a loss 
 to describe, so magnificent a building as that of Westminster 
 Hall lighted up witn near three thousand wax candles in 
 most splendid branches , our crowned heads and almost the 
 whole nobility, with the prime of our gentry, most superbly 
 arrayed, and adorned with a profusion of the most brilliant 
 jewels ; the galleries on every side crowded with company, 
 for the most part elegantly and richly dressed.' 
 
 When the first course had oeen served at the royal table, 
 it was the duty of Earl Talbot, as Lord High Steward of the 
 Household, to ride to the steps leading to where the King 
 and Queen sat, and, after bowing to them, to retire. My 
 lord was determined to make a fine figure on the occasion, 
 and had trained his horse to back out of the hall when 
 returning; but, alas for the vanity of human desires! to his 
 great chagrin and the amusement of those assembled, when 
 this bold Earl would have ridden into the presence of royalty 
 face foremost, his horse was of another mind, and came into 
 the hall and to the foot of the dais with his tail turned to 
 royalty. When this goodly show was over, in came the 
 champion between the High Constable and Earl Marshal,
 
 44 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 followed by four pages and preceded by the herald, and out 
 spake he : 
 
 ' If any person, of what degree soever, high or low, shall 
 deny or gainsay our sovereign lord, King George III., King 
 of Great Britain, France, and Ireland, Defender of the Faith, 
 grandson and next heir to our sovereign lord, King George 
 II., the last King deceased, to be right heir to the Imperial 
 Crown of the realm of Great Britain ; or that he ought not 
 to enjoy the same ; here is his champion, who saith that he 
 lyeth, and is a false traytor : being ready in person to combat 
 with him, and in the quarrel will adventure his life against 
 him, on what day soever he shall be appointed.' 
 
 Then the gauntlet was dashed down with proud defiance, 
 and was ultimately picked up by one of the pages. A gilt 
 bowl of wine, with a cover, was then brought to the King, 
 when he drank deep to the champion brave, and subse- 
 quently sent it to hut., that he might have th.j honour of 
 drinking from it likewise. 
 
 After this the banquet continued, and all were merry, 
 save perhaps those who looked on from the galleries, where 
 they had sat for hours, and had, meanwhile, developed 
 appetites. 
 
 4 It was pleasant,' says James Heming, in a letter to the 
 Annual Register, ' to see the various stratagems made use of 
 in the galleries, to come in for a snack of the good things 
 below. The ladies clubbed their handkerchiefs, to be tied 
 together, to draw up a chicken or bottle of wine. Some 
 had been so provident as to bring baskets with them, which 
 were let down, like the prisoners' boxes at Ludgate or the 
 Gate House, with a pray remember the poor? 
 
 There, amongst these gay and hungry ladies, sat Charles 
 Edward Stuart, whose legal right it was to sit upon the 
 English throne. Lord Marschal told the historian Hume 
 that the young Pretender, as he was called, was present at 
 the scene.
 
 GAY AND HUNGRY LADIES. 45 
 
 ' I asked my Lord the reason for this strange fact,' says 
 Hume. 
 
 ' Why,' says he, ' a gentleman told me who saw him there, 
 and whispered in his ear, " Your Royal Highness is the last 
 of all mortals whom I should expect to see here." 
 
 ' " It was curiosity that led me," said the other. " But, I 
 assure you," added he, " that the person who is the cause 
 of all this pomp and magnificence is the man I envy the 
 least" ' 
 
 Before the day was done, an incident happened which 
 was regarded with fear by those who believed in omens. 
 The great diamond fell from the King's crown as he was 
 returning to Westminster Hall. When, twenty-one years 
 later, the North American colonies gained their indepen- 
 dence, many persons remembered the accident which had 
 befallen the regalia on the coronation day.
 
 CHAPTER ITT. 
 
 ' The Witch' and the Earl How the new Reign was Disturbed 
 Pitt and Peace Popular Feeling The King ridiculed 
 by the Mob The Scotch Favourite Public Demonstra- 
 tions What the Pamphlets and Ballads said Caricatures 
 of the Day The Royal Prorogation Wholesale Bribery 
 Triumph and Vengeance The Toast to Wit, Beauty, 
 Virtue, and Honour Lord Bute Resigns. 
 
 AT the beginning 01 this reign, the public looked forward 
 with some apprehension to the power which the Princess 
 Dowager of Wales commonly known as ' the Witch ' 
 and Lord Bute were well known to hold over the young 
 monarch. ' What could be expected,' says Walpole, ' from 
 a boy ' (the King) ' locked up from the converse of man- 
 kind, governed by a mother still more retired, who was 
 under the influence ot a man that had passed his life in 
 solitude, and was too haughty to admit to his familiarity but 
 half a dozen silly authors and flatterers?' 
 
 Both the Princess and the Earl were, however, too wily to 
 give any direct indication of their power within the first 
 half year of the new reign. All things ministerial remained 
 much as they had been through the last years of the reign 
 of his late Majesty of blessed memory, a matter which oc- 
 casioned some wonder. 
 
 'After all,' said Horace Walpole, raising his eyebrows to 
 an expression of melancholy cynicism, ' there is nothing 
 new under the sun.'
 
 
 THE FIRST MOVE. 47 
 
 ' No,' replied George Selwyn, the fine beau and excellent 
 wit, ' nor under the grandson either.' 
 
 However, when the King had been proclaimed about six 
 months, the Dowager and the Earl made their premier 
 move upon the political chess-board, the result being that 
 the Chancellor of the Exchequer, Legg, was suddenly dis- 
 missed, and Lord Holderness was ordered to give up the 
 seals of Secretary of State, which were immediately de- 
 livered by the royal puppet to Lord Bute, the evil genius of 
 his life. Legg had, in the late reign, refused to support 
 a follower of the favourite at a Hampshire election, there- 
 by proving himself worthy of all humiliation and punish- 
 ment in the eyes of the young Sovereign. His downfall was 
 not a surprise ; Lord Holderness's dismissal, however, was 
 unexpected. 
 
 These steps were taken without consulting Pitt, the great 
 Minister, who, though naturally indignant, thought it best to 
 take no notice of the slight for the present. Parliament 
 was dissolved in March, 1761, and when it again assembled, 
 Lord Bute, who had now become a Minister, gave some 
 indications of his future course in a more open manner than 
 he had yet ventured to adopt. 
 
 The Whigs, under the powerful leadership of Pitt, had 
 become popular by a long war, which, crowned with success 
 and fortune, had raised England to a pre-eminence over 
 every other nation in Europe. France was, by repeated 
 losses of her colonies, reduced to despair ; in America she 
 had been rifled of Quebec, in Africa her chief settlements 
 fell, in the East Indies her power was abridged ; her navy 
 was almost annihilated, her commerce reduced to ruin, and 
 she was therefore ready to grant whatever concessions this 
 country might require. It was therefore plainly at the 
 option ot England to extend her victories and acquisitions 
 still further. The country was in this situation when the 
 King read his first speech to his Council, who were struck
 
 48 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 with astonishment to hear him refer to a war which had 
 captivated the whole country as 'bloody and expensive,' 
 and of his hopes ' of obtaining an honourable and lasting 
 peace.' 
 
 Humiliated and indignant, Mr. Pitt, on the evening of 
 its delivery, waited on Lord Bute, and, after a stormy argu- 
 ment which lasted for three hours, prevailed on him to alter 
 the printed copy of the royal speech so that the objection- 
 able phrase should be changed to ' an expensive but neces- 
 sary war,' and that after the words ' honourable peace ' 
 should be inserted, 'in consort with our allies.' The in- 
 clination for peace which the King's speech indicated gave 
 sudden and unexpected hopes to France ; its Ministers, 
 feeling the pulse of the Court, soon opened a negotiation 
 with the Government, and, believing they could make easy 
 terms with Bute, sued for peace. Pitt, however, demanded 
 greater concessions than they seemed willing to make, and 
 refused peace on any other terms than his own. It was 
 subsequently proved that he was judicious in his demands, 
 and that France, under a plea of negotiating for peace, was 
 in reality secretly forming an alliance with Spain, in order 
 to gain that country's assistance in her war with England 
 This treaty between these Powers was signed in August, 
 1761. 
 
 Pitt, having been secretly made aware of this treachery, 
 and having also been informed of the preparations that were 
 going on in Spain, proposed to recall the English ambassa- 
 sador from Madrid unless satisfactory explanations were 
 given by the Spanish Government, and to issue an imme- 
 diate declaration of war on that country ; but he who had 
 formerly led, now found his advice was rejected on the plea 
 of temporizing; that his power in the Ministry had been 
 undermined ; and that factions which had been happily 
 extinguished during the latter part of the late reign, in a 
 desire for common weal, had now sprung to life again at the
 
 RESIGNATION OF PITT. 49 
 
 instigation of the King's favourite. He therefore declared 
 he would not be responsible for measures not his own, and 
 on October i6th resigned his office. This was exactly what 
 Lord Bute desired. 
 
 ' It is difficult to say which exulted most on the occasion, 
 France, Spain, or Lord Bute ; for Mr. Pitt was the common 
 enemy of all three,' writes Horace Walpole. 
 
 The resignation of its favourite caused the whole nation 
 a surprise which, after the first shock, quickly turned to in- 
 dignation. The City of London proposed to address the 
 King, in order to know why the Minister had been dis- 
 missed; but desisted on being told His Majesty would 
 reply, Mr. Pitt had of his own will seceded from the cabinet. 
 A general mourning was then proposed, but this extrava- 
 gance was likewise abandoned. Meanwhile the Princess 
 Dowager, who took an active part in all that was passing, 
 but whose policy it was to be felt rather than seen, urged 
 the King to press upon the statesman some reward for his 
 past services, by the acceptance of which his popularity 
 might, it was hoped, be at once blasted. His Majesty there- 
 fore offered him the Government of Canada, a peerage, or 
 a large pension. He accepted a peerage for his wife, and a 
 pension of three thousand a year for himself, a notice of 
 which was immediately published in the Gazette. 
 
 This announcement was quickly followed by a series 01 
 attacks on the great statesman from Lord Bute and his fac- 
 tion. Newspapers, ballads, pamphlets, and caricatures were 
 numerously distributed all over the town, in which Pitt was 
 depicted, spoken, and sung of as the ' Demon of War,' who 
 was anxious to embroil his country in a bloody struggle to 
 gratify his love for carnage. Capital was of course made out 
 of his acceptance of a pension. He had sold his country 
 for gold, they said. 
 
 Incensed by the gross abuse so plentifully heaped upon 
 him, Pitt wrote a letter to the people, explaining the cause
 
 SO COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 of his resignation. This epistle, which was really an appeal 
 to the City against the Court, had the effect of raising him 
 still higher in popular estimation. The Common Council 
 gave him a vote of thanks, and the City members were in- 
 structed to look to him as their recognised leader. Stirling, 
 Exeter, York, Chester, and other towns and cities through- 
 out England and Scotland, complimented him on his con- 
 duct; and the tide of censure with which his enemies had 
 striven to overwhelm him was now turned back upon them- 
 selves, and threatened to ruin them. 
 
 Public wrath was excited, and was not to be appeased 
 until it had given full expression to its sentiments. ' The 
 City was all fire and flame.' Not only the Princess and 
 Lord Bute were spoken of in the freest manner, but even 
 the sacred person of the King was ridiculed. Once, when 
 he was on his way to visit the Princess, the mob gathered 
 round his chair, and asked him if he were going to imbibe 
 refreshment at the maternal breast, using one brief and 
 graphic word to express the operation ; and on the walls 01 
 the Royal Exchange and Westminster Hall, notices were 
 pasted, containing the words, ' No petticoat government 
 No Scotch favourite.' 
 
 But the King was heedless of such signs of the times, 
 and regarded my Lord with almost as much affection as the 
 Dowager did. Ample proofs remain ot the Thane's great 
 personal influence over His Majesty. The Countess Temple, 
 in writing to her lord, in December, 1762, says : 
 
 ' Mrs. Ryde was here yesterday. She is acquainted with 
 a brother of one of the Yeomen of the Guard ; and he tells 
 her the King cannot live without my Lord Bute. If he goes 
 out anywhere, he stops when he comes back, to ask of the 
 Yeomen of the Guard if my Lord Bute is come in yet, and 
 that his lords, or people that are with him, look as mad as 
 can be at it The mob have a good story of the Duke of 
 Devonshire. That he went first to light the King, and the
 
 STORY OF THE DUKE OF DEVONSHIRE. 51 
 
 King followed, leaning upon Lord Bute's shoulder, upon 
 which the Duke turned about, and desired to know which he 
 was waiting upon.' 
 
 Nor was Lord Bute without using the influence for his 
 own benefit. The rangership of Richmond Park had been 
 taken from the King's aunt, the Princess Amelia, that it 
 might be given to him; and, in September, 1762, he had 
 been, with great ceremony and splendour, invested with the 
 Order of the Garter ; on which occasion the famous John 
 Wilkes wrote a ballad, that enjoyed an immense popularity, 
 only three verses of which can be given. 
 
 THE THANE OF BUTE. 
 Installed Knight of the Garter, September, 1762. 
 
 * You may sing of Will Pitt or my Lord Albemarle, 
 You may toast your old friend or your favourite girl, 
 But my theme all your praises will equally suit, 
 And who should it be but John, Earl of Bute ? 
 
 Deny down. 
 
 ' With manners unformed, and with language uncouth, 
 The rude north he deserted, to polish the south ; 
 His loved bag-pipes he left, and began on his flute, 
 And a Princess soon yielded to John, Earl of Bute. 
 
 Deny down. 
 ****** 
 
 ' The King gives but one, like his countryman, Chartres. 
 All England, to hang him, would part with both garters. 
 And, good lord ! how the people would laugh and would 
 
 hoot, 
 
 Could they once set a-swinging this John, Earl of Bute. 
 
 Derry down.' 
 
 The ' Petticoat Government ' of course referred to the 
 Princess Dowager, who now came in for a very fair share of 
 the public detestation which from this time continued to her 
 death. When at this period of popular excitement she 
 visited the theatre, she was greeted with a storm of hisses, 
 
 42
 
 52 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 and throughout the night vile inuendoes and open refer- 
 ences to her Scotch lover were shouted from the galleries, 
 which so exasperated her that she resolved never to venture 
 within the walls of the play-house again. But the scandal 
 which attended her name was by no means allowed to rest 
 with the references of the unholy gods ; the ballads, pamph- 
 lets, and prints of the day teemed with gross insinuations. 
 One print, which gained a special popularity, represented 
 her as reproving one of her maids-of-honour Miss Chud- 
 leigh, to wit for her erratic conduct, to which the gay 
 young lady is made to reply, ' Madam, chacun a son 
 But? 1 
 
 Those who regarded the dropping of the great diamond 
 from the royal crown on the coronation day as an ill omen, 
 now declared it was fulfilled in Pitt's loss to the government, 
 and the following lines were freely circulated : 
 
 ' When first portentous it was known 
 Great George had jostled from his crown 
 The greatest diamond there ; 
 
 ' The omen-mongers one and all 
 Foretold some mischief must befall, 
 
 Some loss beyond compare. 
 ' Some fear this gem is Hanover, 
 Whilst others wish to God it were ; 
 
 Each strives the nail to hit 
 * One guesses that, another this, 
 All mighty wise, yet all amiss, 
 
 For, ah ! who thought of Pitt ? 
 
 Other lines on the same subject, written by a gentleman 
 in the country, appeared in the daily papers : 
 
 * The fatal omen is fulfilled too soon, 
 See Pitt, the brightest pearl of the crown, 
 The state's great bulwark and a nation's pride, 
 Untimely severed from his Sovereign's side. 
 O soon may Heaven the precious gem restore 
 To shine unclouded and to fall no more.'
 
 FURY OF THE MOB. 53 
 
 But the popular enthusiasm for the favourite and preju- 
 dice against Bute were more fully expressed on November 
 9th, at the annual state dinner at the Guildhall, to which 
 the King and his consort and the Ministers were duly bidden, 
 and of which a graphic account is given in the memoirs of 
 the Marquis of Rockingham, and in those of his contempo- 
 raries. On the evening of the great banquet, the thorough- 
 fares leading from the West End to the City were thronged 
 by an anxious and turbulent mob, whose feelings were raised 
 to a fever pitch of excitement. Lord Bute had some appre- 
 hensions for his safety, and, being wise in his generation, 
 had taken care to hire a number of butchers and prize- 
 fighters, who had directions to follow his coach, and, in case 
 of attack, to strike out and protect him from all violence. 
 The fates, however, favoured him, and his coach passed 
 through the vastly crowded streets unrecognised by the 
 throng that impatiently awaited him, until he had almost 
 reached the Guildhall. Then, when its prey had almost 
 escaped it, the mob discovered him, and, rendered all the 
 more furious because he had been suffered through mistake 
 to pass in peace, set up a fierce howl of derision and hatred. 
 Men, and women, ever the most demonstrative patriots, 
 stormed round the coach, and amongst savage hisses, shouts, 
 and yells, greeted my lord with such personal remarks as, 
 ' We want no Scotch rogues !' * Damn you, Bute !' ' Pitt for 
 ever !' Mud was freely flung, not only on the coachman 
 and footmen, but on the Earl and on Lord Barrington, who 
 accompanied him. In vain the bruisers and butchers, who 
 fought right boldly, strove to protect him ; they were over- 
 powered by numbers; the coach stood still, the servants 
 trembled for their lives, but, just as the traces were cut in 
 order to remove the horses, a force of constables bore down 
 upon the mob, and after awhile succeeded in snatching the 
 unpopular Earl from its grasp. 
 
 Scarcely was this scene over, when Pitt, accompanied by
 
 54 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 Lord Temple, his brother-in-law, who had resigned at the 
 same time as the favourite, drove up in a chariot and pair. 
 His appearance was the signal for an outburst of enthusiasm ; 
 the crowd pressed forward and kissed the heads of the 
 horses, cheered lustily, flung their hats in the air, and gave 
 him every demonstration of their favour. Almost immedi- 
 ately after him came His Sacred Majesty, looking pale and 
 anxious, his homely little Queen beside him, but the crowd 
 had felt little loyalty to a King who allowed himself to be 
 governed by two persons against whom the tide of popular 
 hatred had set, and ' were quite exasperated,' as the Rev. 
 William Robertson says, in courtly language, ' at the Queen 
 not being handsome.' So their Majesties' subjects suffered 
 them to pass almost without recognition, and scarce a cheer 
 broke the silence that marked their reception. In the 
 Guildhall, the King was received in like manner, hardly a 
 murmur of applause running round the room at his appear- 
 ance, whilst the great statesman had been welcomed with 
 noisy acclamation. 
 
 These signs of public feeling, exhibited at the Guildhall 
 dinner, were but the preliminary to a storm, which, gaining 
 strength with time, burst in full force above the head of the 
 favourite, and even threatened the safety of his Royal 
 master. Three months after Pitt's resignation a period of 
 which Spain had availed herself to rally all her strength 
 the Government was obliged to declare war, notwithstanding 
 the dislike which the King and Lord Bute had to such an 
 act Not long afterwards, the Duke of Newcastle, the 
 nominal head of the Administration, having been frequently 
 slighted by the King, His Majesty being anxious to get rid 
 of him, resigned his office, which was on the same day filled 
 by Lord Bute, who then became First Lord of the Treasury, 
 and the most unpopular Minister who had ever directed the 
 destinies of the English nation. He had at last reached the 
 step which he had long coveted, and now resolved to use his
 
 THE MOST UNPOPULAR MINISTER. 55 
 
 power for the benefit of himself, his family, and his country- 
 men. His daughter and Lady Susan Stuart, daughter to 
 the Earl of Galloway, had been already made ladies of the 
 bedchamber to the King's eldest sister, the Princess 
 Augusta. Lord Bute had also settled a royal pension of 
 ^400 a year on his sister, Lady Susan Ruren ; but now he 
 conferred the highest offices in Scotland on his brother, James 
 MacKenzie, and obtained an English peerage for his son. 
 
 Dr. Nichol, one of the King's physicians, a very able man, 
 was, without being guilty of any fault, removed to make 
 room for Dr. Duncan, whose recommendation was, that he 
 hailed from the ' land o' cakes.' When the King sat for 
 his portrait, Sir Joshua Reynolds, then in the full enjoyment 
 of his fame, was overlooked, and Ramsay, the son of the 
 Edinburgh wig-maker and poet, selected as the artist. 
 
 So also, when a musician was required for the Queen, 
 Dr. Arne's existence was ignored, and a Scotchman named 
 Oswald, a retailer of second-hand music, who dwelt in the 
 savoury district of St. Martin's Churchyard, received the 
 appointment. Every place in the Court was, if possible, 
 filled by the favourite with his countrymen and country- 
 women. 'The Jacobites all flock to St. James's,' said 
 George Selwyn, ' because there are so many Stuarts there.' 
 Another wit, William Stanhope, my Lord Chesterfield's 
 brother, said he was afraid of going to Court, fearing he 
 might get the itch, and then he would have to go to the 
 Princess Dowager to get some sulphur to cure him. 
 
 Since the rebellion in Scotland, in 1745, the Scotch, 
 never in favour with the English, were in especially bad 
 odour, and the patronage shown them was deeply resented. 
 Pamphlets, caricatures, scurrilous and bitter ballads daily 
 swarmed from the press, and passed from garret to drawing- 
 room, from club to coffee-house, attacking the favourite and 
 his friends in the plainest and, oftentimes, the coarsest 
 language. One favourite verse was :
 
 $6 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 1 Had paving London streets in taste 
 
 Been left to me alone, 
 
 On Scotchmen's heads we might have trod ; 
 And Bute's the corner-stone.' 
 
 Nor was my Lord left to suffer in single painfulness. The 
 Princess Dowager's name continued to be infamously and 
 frequently coupled with his. In one of the early numbers 
 of the North Briton, a paper was published on the ' Loves 
 of Queen Isabella and Mortimer,' which left not a shadow 
 of doubt regarding the modern characters to which it 
 pointed in most contemptuous language. The connection 
 of the Princess and the favourite was, however, even more 
 openly referred to when Mr. Calvert rose in the House of 
 Commons, and drew a picture of a fictitious family in 
 Surrey, whom he called the ' Steadys,' describing in language 
 not to be mistaken the two old Steadys, and the young one; 
 giving an account of young Steady s mother, and of her 
 improper intimacy with a Scotch gardener, and concluding 
 by expressing his hope that the true friends of young Steady 
 would advise him to recall his old friends, and turn away 
 the Scotch gardener. 
 
 The mob seized hold of what may be called the popular 
 scandal, and one night a great concourse of people marched 
 through the streets, carrying a miniature gallows, from which 
 was suspended a Jack-boot (indicating John Bute), and a 
 woman's petticoat, by way of representing the Princess 
 Dowager, both of which articles they publicly burned 
 amidst great rejoicing. Nor was the King spared in the 
 general ridicule. In The World as it Goes the author 
 describes a vision of a child in a cave, carefully guarded by 
 the royal favourite. The bard says of His Majesty : 
 
 ' Altho' a child, he like a man was dress'd 
 In velvet mantle, and in ermin'd vest ; 
 His baby hand a golden sceptre bore, 
 And on his brow a tott'ring crown he wore.
 
 THE KING RIDICULED. 57 
 
 Changeful he seem'd, and languid, and cried by turns ; 
 Now with sullen fits, and now with fury burns. 
 For other toys his watchful guardian teaz'd, 
 With the new bawbles for a moment pleas'd ; 
 Then threw them at his feet, and with disdain 
 Demands to leave the cave, and call his train 
 When straight the stern Protector from his vest 
 Drew fourth a scourge, and thus the boy address'd : 
 u Behold this dreadful symbol of command, 
 To me entrusted by thy mother's hand ! 
 Weav'd by her cunning art, and well design'd 
 To rule thy tetchy mood and stubborn mind." 
 Deep sunk the threats into the urchin's breast, 
 Who moan'd, and sobb'd, and cry'd himself to rest.' 
 
 The caricatures which were exposed in the windows of 
 the print-sellers all over the town equalled the ballads and 
 pamphlets in their open scurrility. One of these represented 
 the high-roads from the north crowded with ragged, hungry- 
 looking Scotchmen, forsaking their own country to find 
 refuge in the south, whilst ship-loads sought the land of 
 promise by sea; another, entitled 'The Royal Dupe,' shows 
 the Princess Dowager seated on a sofa lulling the King to 
 sleep, whilst Bute steals his sceptre, and Fox (Pitt's rival) 
 picks his pocket. A third, entitled ' The Mountebank,' 
 represents Bute as a quack-doctor standing on a stage, 
 recommending his golden pills; Smollett, the paid Scotch 
 advocate of Scotchmen, who conducted a paper called the 
 Briton, which Bute had established in his own defence, is 
 by his side dressed as a mountebank, whilst the Princess 
 Dowager, dressed as a witch, looks on half-concealed by a 
 curtain. 
 
 ' By my saul, laddies,' Smollett is made to say, ' I tell ye 
 truly I went round about, and I thank my geud stars I 
 found a passage through Wales, which conducted me to a' 
 the muckle places in the land, where I soon got relief, and 
 straightway commenced to doctor for the benefit of mesel'
 
 58 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 and countrymen. See here, my bra' lads, in these bags are 
 contained the gowden lozenges, a never-failing remedy that 
 gives present ease, famous throughout the known world for 
 their excellent quality. Now, as ye are a' my countrymen, 
 and stand in most need of a cure, I will gi'e every mon o' 
 ye twa or three thousand of these lozenges once a year to 
 make ye hauld up your heads, and turn out muckle men.' 
 Bute, as the quack-doctor, adds : ' Awa' wi' ye to the de'il, 
 ye soothern loons ; but a' ye bonny lads fra the north o' 
 Tweed mak' haste and come to me; I am now in a capacity 
 to gi'e ye a' relief. I ken fu' weel your distemper I dinna 
 mean that so peculiar to our country occasioned by the 
 immoderate use of oatmeal. But it is the gowden itch wi' 
 which ye are troubled (and, in truth, most folk are) that I 
 learnt the art to cure. I mysel' was ne'er free frae this 
 muckle itch while I lived in the north, but, having a geud 
 staff to depend upon, I resolved to travel into the south to 
 seek a cure.' 
 
 But the King, Lord Bute, and the Princess Dowager 
 seemed to take little heed of the popular feeling, or, if they 
 did, were at least determined that it should not prevent 
 them from seeking the political ends they desired. The 
 Princess imbued her son with the idea of exerting his royal 
 prerogative, and rendering himself independent of either 
 the Lords or the Commons, to whom he should dictate in 
 all things. ' George, be a King be a King !' was her cry ; 
 and the conduct of his life showed that her lesson had 
 sunk into his heart, taken root there, and produced vile 
 fruits. 
 
 ' The instant his prerogative was concerned, or his bigotry 
 interfered with, or his will thwarted,' says Lord Brougham, 
 'the most bitter animosity, the most calculating coldness 
 of heart, took possession of his breast, and swayed it by 
 turns.' 
 
 To exert the royal prerogative, as the King understood
 
 THE ROYAL PREROGATIVE. 59 
 
 the phrase, meant to strip the great houses of England of 
 their hereditary influences ; to reduce the powerful nobility 
 to the condition of the petty, servile German nobles, in 
 order that he might be able to exert his power over them 
 with absolute sway. Church and State were to be governed, 
 even to their minutest details, by his supreme will ; the 
 people were to have no voice 5 the Ministry no power, the 
 King was to reign omnipotent in all things ; his creatures 
 alone were to rise to places of State, not by virtue of long 
 lineage, splendid talents, or great deeds, but by reason of 
 his royal favour, which would counterbalance the loss of all 
 other qualities ; whilst those who in any way differed from 
 his opinions were to sink into the dark oblivion to which 
 his displeasure would perpetually condemn them. All 
 genius and talents were to be rewarded and gauged accord- 
 ing to the dull level of his judgment, and all show of 
 national independence was to be instantly crushed. Such 
 was the dream of magnificent despotism which seized hold 
 upon the little mind of the dull monarch. 
 
 He was now informed that the moment had come for 
 him to exert his prerogative, and, backed by the Dowager's 
 ambition, and Lord Bute's desire for power and distinction, 
 George strove with all his might to be a ruler of his 
 people. With the dogged obstinacy that ever distinguished 
 his character, he determined to take the first steps towards 
 such an end, by establishing a peace in spite of the opposi- 
 tion of the whole nation, and the prejudice it might entail to 
 the country by giving up the most valuable of the English 
 conquests for a cessation of hostilities, which might mean 
 little more than a truce to his unprincipled allies. 
 
 The first movement made was to send the Duke of 
 Bedford to Paris as ambassador, when he agreed with the 
 French Government to a treaty of peace. As His Grace 
 passed through London on his way to the French capital, 
 he was jeered at and hissed by the populace, who had caught
 
 60 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 wind of his intended mission. This treatment so alarmed 
 my Lord Bute, who had previously been heedless of the 
 storm of vile epithets and ugly words showered on him, 
 which, however, could break no bones, that from this time 
 he never went out without an escort of prize-fighters, called 
 in the language of the day 'mashers.' His sacred, though 
 obstinate, Majesty showed greater wisdom yet, if less courage, 
 by carefully staying at home, and his royal seclusion was 
 shared by his mother. 
 
 The treaty of peace could not be ratified except by the 
 sanction of Parliament To obtain this was a herculean 
 labour, which it was known could never be honestly accom- 
 plished. Yet Lord Bute did not despair of gaining it by 
 fraud, with the sanction and approval of the King. It was 
 a step of vast importance, not only so far as the Minister's 
 own power and future career were concerned, but inas- 
 much as it would determine whether the King was to be 
 ruled, or to rule. To succeed, therefore, no such trifles as 
 honour, principle, or even personal dislike, were to be 
 allowed to stand in the way. Bute, who had boasted that 
 honesty should be the sign by which his administration 
 should be known, now determined to resort to wholesale 
 bribery and corruption. Henry Fox, Pitt's great rival, 
 though thoroughly detested by His Majesty and the Prin- 
 cess, was called to their aid, and made leader of the House 
 of Commons. To secure his services, the lucrative post of 
 paymaster and a sinecure office were given him, and he was 
 at once made a member of the Cabinet. 
 
 It was through him that the House of Commons must be 
 bribed ; and he set to work at his assigned task without a 
 trace of false delicacy. Walpole says : 
 
 ' He directly attacked the separate members of the House 
 of Commons ; and with so little decorum, on the part of 
 either buyer or seller, that a shop was publicly opened at 
 the Pay-office, whither the members flocked, and received
 
 A HERCULEAN LABOUR. 61 
 
 the wages of their venality in bank-bills, even to so low a 
 sum as two hundred pounds for their votes on the treaty. 
 Twenty-five thousand pounds, as Martin, Secretary of the 
 Treasury, afterwards owned, were issued in one morning ; 
 and in a single fortnight a vast majority was purchased to 
 approve the peace . . . The profusion which was exercised 
 on this occasion, and which reduced the Court to stop even 
 the payments of the King's bed-chamber, made men recall 
 severely to mind the King's declaration on the choice of his 
 Parliament, that he would not permit any money to be spent 
 on elections.' 
 
 Years afterwards, Ross Mackay, who had been private 
 secretary to Lord Bute, and was subsequently made Treasurer 
 of the Ordnance, told Lord Besborough : 
 
 ' With my own hand I secured above one hundred and 
 twenty votes on that vital question to Ministers. Eighty 
 thousand pounds were set apart for the purpose. Forty 
 members of the House of Commons received from me a 
 thousand pounds each. To eighty others I paid five hun- 
 dred pounds a-piece.' 
 
 Having secured the interests of the House of Commons 
 in this vile fashion, it was now imperative to gain that of 
 the Lords. The first member of the upper House whose 
 sentiments were gauged was the Duke of Devonshire 
 the Prince of Whigs, as the Princess Dowager derisively 
 called him but His Grace declined to support the Court 
 scheme. A little while afterwards, when he went to pay 
 his duty to the King, and sent a page to announce his 
 attendance on His Majesty, royalty indignantly refused 
 him the light of its countenance. ' I will not see him,' 
 said the King. When the page hesitated, from amazement 
 at such a message, he was ordered to go at once, and de- 
 liver the words as they had been spoken. The Duke, 
 though astonished and indignant, had presence of mind 
 left to send the page to ask what he should do with his key
 
 62 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 of office as Lord Chamberlain. A brief reply was returned : 
 'Orders will be given for that.' The Duke went hastily 
 home, and, without waiting for the royal orders, took his 
 key, and immediately carried it to the Secretary of State. 
 Next morning, his brother, Lord George Cavendish, and 
 his brother-in-law, Lord Besborough, resigned their respec- 
 tive places as Comptroller of the Household and Post- 
 master-General. Five days after, the Marquis of Rockingham 
 resigned his place as one of the Lords of the bed-chamber. 
 Lord Ashburnham, who held a similar post, did likewise, as 
 did also my Lord Kinnoul. These vacancies were quickly 
 filled up by those pledged to support the Government. 
 
 But the work was not yet complete. Lord Granby was 
 daily expected on his return from the army, and messengers 
 were stationed at various seaports to meet and bribe him 
 with such offers as the Ordnance, and command of the 
 army ; the King, in order to make such an offer as the 
 latter, completely .set aside the claims of Marshal Ligonier, 
 who had served with Marlborough, and had been invested 
 with the insignia of the Bath by George II. on the field 
 after the battle of Dettingen, where he had distinguished 
 himself. Marshal Conway, who it was known would receive 
 no bribe, was, to keep him out of the way, selected to con- 
 duct the army to England, and the Duke of York, the King's 
 brother, who was not cautious in concealing his hatred for 
 Bute and his measures, was sent to Italy. 
 
 On December Qth, 1762, the debate on the preliminaries 
 took place in both Houses of Parliament. There was 
 much excitement, though no one had any doubt as to the 
 success of the Government scheme. In the Upper House, 
 the Duke of Grafton, looking full at Lord Bute, openly 
 accused him of bribery ; in the Lower House, Pitt, who, 
 though ill, had himself carried within the bar, from whence 
 he had to be assisted to his seat, for three hours and a half 
 denounced the peace as prejudicial to England's prosperity.
 
 ROYAL VENGEANCE. 63 
 
 Then, exhausted, he left the scene as His rival, Fox, stood 
 up to reply. In the House of Commons the preliminaries 
 were approved of by a majority of three hundred and 
 nineteen against sixty-five ; in the Upper House there was 
 no division. The Court clique had gained the day. No- 
 thing could equal the exultation of its members. ' Now my 
 son is a King,' exclaimed the Princess, in an outburst of 
 triumph. 'Never more shall the Whig grandees be ad- 
 mitted to power,' exclaimed His Majesty, forgetful that but 
 for the Whigs, over whose downfall be exulted, his great- 
 grandfather had never left his little German Electorate to 
 sit upon a throne. My Lord Bute, who was a lover of fine 
 sentiments, satisfied himself on this occasion with an epi 
 grammatic sentence ; he trusted that a record of the share 
 which he had in securing peace to his country might be in- 
 scribed on his tomb. 
 
 Thus a reign which had commenced under the unclouded 
 auspices of domestic peace was suddenly turned to one of 
 rancour ; a united Government divided into factions, a con- 
 tented nation stirred to its centre by animosities, by the 
 united efforts of an unprincipled, dissembling woman, a dull, 
 weak, narrow-minded King, and a designing, ambitious 
 Scotchman. 
 
 The vengeance of the worthy trio during this crisis and 
 after their victory is worth recording. His Gracious Majesty, 
 at the first Cabinet Council held after the Duke of Devon- 
 shire's resignation, took a pen and crossed His Grace's 
 name from the Council- book, a wanton and unmerited insult ; 
 moreover, the Dukes 01 Newcastle and Grafton and the 
 Marquis of Rockingham were dismissed from the lieu- 
 tenancies of their several counties, and a like affront was 
 only saved the Duke of Devonshire by the interference of 
 Fox. His Grace, however, resigned his lieutenancy after 
 the dismissal of his friends. Mr. Wilkinson and Mr. Earle 
 were dismissed from th? Board of Ordnance on account of
 
 64 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 votes, and Thomas Townsend from the Green Cloth, with- 
 out notification ; Admiral Forbes, a younger son of the 
 Earl of Granard, was removed from the Admiralty to make 
 room for a friend of Fox, and Mr. Schutz, who had been 
 for seven years a gentleman of the bed-chamber, was dis- 
 missed because he had no vote in Parliament, and could 
 be of no use there. This mean vengeance went further 
 yet, when the widow of Admiral Philip Cavendish was de- 
 prived of her post as housekeeper of one of the public 
 offices, because her husband had been related to the Duke 
 of Devonshire. 
 
 But the triumph was destined to be of but short duration. 
 The expenses connected with the negotiations for peace 
 were so heavy, that a sum of three millions and a half were 
 borrowed in order to defray them, and with such impro- 
 vidence as to leave a profit of .350,000 to the contractors; 
 to pay this, it was resolved that a tax should be levied on 
 cider, then a popular drink amongst the middle and lower 
 classes. At this the indignation of the nation was raised 
 once more, but with as little effect as when it had protested 
 against peace. In the country, the farmers threatened to 
 feed their pigs with apples, or cut down the apple-trees. 
 Two protests were entered against the Bill on the journals 
 of the House of Lords ; the House of Commons likewise 
 protested ; the City sheriffs, without having asked leave, 
 presented a petition to the King, praying him not to pass 
 the Bill ; but George was determined to be a King, and 
 passed it next morning, the majority in both Houses being 
 tools of Lord Bute's. 
 
 Nothing could now exceed the public hatred of Bute ; his 
 effigy was hung in public upon a gibbet, torn, and burned by 
 the mob. He went abroad in disguise ; once, taking alarm at 
 some rumour of threatened vengeance by the crowd, he 
 said, 'We shall have thirty thousand men come down to St 
 James's.' In the City, toasts were drunk to wit, beauty,
 
 BUTE'S TEN MONTH'S WORK. 65 
 
 virtue, and honour, these being the ironical designations of 
 the King, Queen, Princess Dowager, and Lord Bute. The 
 Duchess of Bedford set a dangerous example to her caste 
 by refusing to visit the Drawing-rooms of the Dowager, and 
 the press teemed with fresh abuse. The Princess was 
 openly charged with having ' been so lost to all sense of 
 honour and shame, and so abandoned in principle, as to 
 sacrifice the peace, prosperity, and security of the English 
 nation for the sum of five hundred thousand pounds, which 
 she received from the Court of France ;' and in one of the 
 popular caricatures the King was represented as a donkey, 
 on whose back the favourite rode triumphantly. 
 
 In the midst of this tumult, Lord Bute suddenly resigned. 
 By character he was cautious ; and terror of the public 
 wrath had driven him from office, it was said ; he, by way 
 of accounting for his resignation, declared his health had 
 begun to suffer from his attendance to public business. 
 
 ' He was professedly the first or sole Minister very little 
 more than ten months,' writes the author of the 'History 
 of the Minority,' 'during which time he revived national 
 animosities between the English and Scotch. He revived 
 party distinctions among the English ; he was the means of 
 disgracing the best of our nobility, and of dismissing the 
 ablest servants of the Crown ; he stifled by his conduct the 
 acclamations due from the people to their King ; weakened 
 the Crown by disposing of almost all the reversionary 
 patents ; turned out, with inhumanity, the innocent depen- 
 dents of former Ministers ; increased the peerage beyond 
 the example of any of his predecessors ; borrowed public 
 money on exorbitant terms, and invented a new Excise. 
 
 Henry Fox retired at the same time as Lord Bute, and 
 was raised to the peerage as Lord Holland,
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Dark Pictures in the King's Life Buckingham House Birth 
 of a Royal Heir Seclusion of their Majesties Edward, 
 Duke of York The Princess Augusta A Gay and 
 Gallant Soldier Brunswick's Prince and his Popularity 
 The King's Insanity Death of 'Billy the Butcher' His 
 Highness of Gloucester Private Marriage Romance of 
 the Danish Court The Queen and her Lover Death of 
 the Princess Dowager Lord Bute's Wealth. 
 
 HISTORY holds no sadder or more painful pictures than 
 those which the domestic life of George III. occasionally 
 present during the long and eventful period which elapsed 
 from his marriage, at the age of twenty-three, until the grave 
 closed over him, in his eighty-first year. Yet they are not 
 the less instructive because of their dark colours and sombre 
 shadows, nor the less interesting from the absence, so far as 
 the King was concerned, of the glaring colours of vice which 
 made the reigns of the last two monarchs flagrant and revolt- 
 ing illustrations in the records of Courts. 
 
 Early in the King's reign, the Civil List was fixed at 
 ^800,000 a year, and after his marriage a gracious Parlia- 
 ment settled on his Queen the substantial sum of ;i 0,000 
 per annum, with a dowry of .100,000, and Richmond Old 
 Park and Somerset House, in case she became a widow. 
 The King, however, not satisfied with these residences, 
 purchased Buckingham House, which had been built by 
 John Sheffield, Duke of Buckingham, for the sum of 
 ^21,000, and presented it to Her Majesty; and from this
 
 A CHILD WAS BORN. 67 
 
 time it was usually called the Queen's House. In 1825, 
 this red-brick mansion was pulled down, and the present 
 hideous pile of buildings (known as Buckingham Palace) 
 erected on its site. To this residence the King and his 
 Consort, early in their married life, retired from the more 
 lively quarters of St. James's, which Horace Walpole said 
 was ' not a prison strait enough.' 
 
 The same seclusion which concealed his private life from 
 his subjects before his marriage was now continued, the 
 Dowager taking every precaution that none but her friends 
 should have access to him. 
 
 ' It will scarcely be believed,' says Sir Nathaniel Wraxall, 
 ' but it is nevertheless true, that in order to prevent his con- 
 versing with any persons, or receiving any written intima- 
 tions, anonymous or otherwise, between the drawing-room 
 and the door of Carlton House (the Princess's residence), 
 when he was returning from thence to St. James's, or to 
 Buckingham House, after his evening visits to his mother, 
 she never failed to accompany him till he got into his 
 sedan-chair. 1 
 
 Previous to the removal of the royal pair from a palace 
 that had witnessed so many strange and eventful scenes, a 
 child was born to them destined to bring them much tribu- 
 lation. This happened on August 12, 1762, at half-past 
 seven in the morning, the anniversary day of the succession 
 of George Lewis Guelph, Elector of Hanover, to the 
 English throne. My Lord Archbishop of Canterbury and 
 the Lord Chancellor had sat up all night to be witnesses at 
 the birth of the princely infant, whilst in an adjoining 
 chamber, their Graces of Devonshire and Rutland, my Lords 
 Hardwicke, Huntingdon, Talbot, Bute, Masham, and Canta- 
 lupe, with all the ladies of the bed-chamber and maids-of- 
 honour, were in attendance. The ' person that waited on the 
 King with the news of Her Majesty being delivered of a 
 Prince, received a present of a ^500 bank-bill ;' whilst the 
 
 52
 
 68 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 intelligence was made known to the general public by the 
 roaring of guns from the Tower, and the ringing of many 
 bells from turrets and steeples. 
 
 The infant was baptized George Augustus Frederick, by 
 the Archbishop of Canterbury, the sponsors being the 
 Princess Dowager, the Duke of Cumberland, and the Duke 
 of Mecklenburg-Strelitz. On this day, the Queen's bed, 
 magnificently upholstered in crimson velvet, was removed to 
 the great drawing-room. 
 
 'Though she is not to see company in form,' writes 
 Horace Walpole, ' yet it looks as if they had intended people 
 should have been there, as all who presented themselves 
 were admitted, which were very few, for it had not been 
 notified I suppose, to prevent too great a crowd. All I 
 have heard named besides those in waiting were the Duchess 
 of Queensberry, Lady Dalkeith, Mrs. Grenville, and about 
 four more ladies.' 
 
 A few days after the baptism, the royal heir was created 
 Prince of Wales ; ' for the eldest son of the British monarch,' 
 as Hume says, ' does not possess that title by inheritance, 
 but by creation.' 
 
 A short time subsequent to this event, their Majesties 
 moved into the Queen's House, where they may be said to 
 have set aside all signs of royalty, and lived in almost un- 
 interrupted seclusion. To furnish this residence, the other 
 palaces were more or less stripped of pictures and furniture, 
 especially Hampton Court, a place which the King could 
 not endure, from the fact that in this residence his grand- 
 father had once, in a sudden fit of passion, struck him a 
 blow. George III. never afterwards could pass through the 
 room where the occurrence happened without betraying 
 great repugnance. The King, influenced by the close 
 habits of seclusion to which he had been subjected, as well 
 as from a consciousness of his dulness, and from an intoler- 
 ance in others of a brilliancy to which he could not lay
 
 '/ AM BUT A SATELLITE." 69 
 
 claim, retired as much as possible from the nobility, and was 
 scarcely to be seen or spoken to except on drawing-room 
 days. His consort, on the other hand, excessively homely 
 in appearance, without grace or polish of manner, or one 
 intellectual trait to brighten her natural dulness, but steeped 
 in an imperious, narrow-minded pride characteristic of her 
 insignificant and stolid race, was as suitable a mate for him, 
 as she was unfit to reign over courtiers whose sparkling wit 
 and high-bred beauty were proverbial, whose grace and 
 courtesy were fascinating, whose manners and conversation, 
 studiously cultivated as an art, made their vices almost 
 acceptable. 
 
 The royal pair sank to the dead level of domesticity on 
 the very threshold of life, to the disappointment of the 
 nobility, who had naturally looked forward to the reign of the 
 young Monarch as a period of gaiety and brilliancy. The 
 Queen's House came to be regarded by them as a place of 
 imprisonment and gloom, and was not inaptly named Holy- 
 rood House There were, it was true, two weekly drawing- 
 rooms and two yearly balls, but they had nothing in common 
 with those of former reigns. Gambling, the fashionable 
 amusement of the age, was strictly forbidden in the royal 
 palaces, and the drawing-rooms held on Sundays were 
 abolished because it was considered a profanation of the 
 Sabbath. The King had asked Lady Dorset as a favour 
 not to hold assemblies at her house on that day. 
 
 'I am but a satellite, please your Majesty,' replied the 
 lively Countess, ' moving in the orbit of a superior 
 planet' 
 
 ' I understand your reproof,' said the King ; ' the orbit of 
 the planet shall be altered.' 
 
 ' Then,' remarked her Ladyship, ' the satellite must 
 follow.' 
 
 And so the royal drawing-rooms were held no more on 
 the day of rest.
 
 70 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 The King had, a few months before the birth of the 
 Prince of Wales, a brief illness which was probably more 
 serious than was generally supposed, as may be judged from 
 a letter which Lord Chancellor Hardwicke wrote to Lord 
 Royston in June, 1762. ' I fear,' said my Lord, ' His Majesty 
 was very ill, for physicians do not deal so roughly with such 
 patients without necessity. God grant him a speedy re- 
 covery.' Whatever the nature of his illness may have been, 
 it certainly for some time left behind traces of mental de- 
 pression of which he was unable to rid himself. In one of 
 Dr. Birch's MS. letters written at this period, preserved in 
 the British Museum, he remarks ' His Majesty is observed 
 of late to have less cheerful spirits than usual, which even 
 the Queen has taken notice of with some concern.' No 
 doubt this indisposition was the shadow of the coming 
 dreadful malady which soon clouded his life. 
 
 Under these circumstances, and with such patrons as their 
 Majesties, it was not to be wondered at that the royal 
 drawing-rooms missed the- animation, splendour, and gaiety 
 which had distinguished those of the last Monarch. The 
 King looked grave as he received the homage of his courtiers; 
 the Queen smiled, but could not venture to express herself 
 in the language of her subjects. Some scrutiny was now' 
 observed as to the characters of the ladies admitted to the 
 presence of the Queen; royal courtesans were no longer 
 in request, and some show of decency was expected in the 
 conversation that floated round the throne. The old order 
 of things was thoroughly reversed in all its details ; wit fell 
 meaningless on the royal ears, grace found no favour in the 
 royal eyes, and beauty was regarded with jealousy by the 
 homely Queen as an incentive to wicked temptations that 
 might waylay the virtuous King. Laughter was no longer 
 heard, delicate morsels of scandal were whispered no more, 
 fashions were wilfully neglected, and intrigues were foregone
 
 A DULL COURT. 71 
 
 in the royal presence, where manners now became strictly 
 decorous, but, alas ! terribly dull. 
 
 Of Her Majesty, one of the lampoons of the age de- 
 clared : 
 
 1 She hates the manners of the times, 
 And all our fashionable crimes ; 
 And fondly wishes to restore 
 The golden age and days of yore, 
 When silly, simple women thought 
 A breach of chastity a fault ; 
 Esteem'd those modish things divorces, 
 The very worst of human curses, 
 And deem'd assemblies, cards, and dice 
 The springs of every sort of vice. 
 Romantic notions ! All the fair 
 At such absurdities must stare, 
 And, spite of all her pains will still 
 Love routs, adultery, and quadrille.' 
 
 Walpole gives an account of a ball which their Majesties 
 gave shortly after their marriage, to which but six of the 
 nobility not immediately connected with the Court were 
 bidden. His Majesty danced with the Queen the whole 
 time ; and his sister, the Princess Augusta, with her four 
 younger brothers. Some of the lords and ladies of the 
 bed-chamber were present, and the maids-of-honour, but 
 none were permitted to sit in the royal presence, save the 
 Princess Dowager, the Duchess of Bedford, and Lady Bute. 
 This lively entertainment commenced at half an hour after 
 six, and at one o'clock the company were dismissed without 
 supper. 
 
 It was scarcely to be wondered at that the brilliant and 
 beautiful women, the wits and fine gentlemen, whose routs, 
 masquerades, and divers amusements alone kept the town 
 from a state of stagnation, gradually deserted the royal 
 drawing-rooms, and were but on rare occasions, when
 
 73 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 their attendance was looked on as a necessary duty, 
 seen within the walls of St. James's or Buckingham 
 House. 
 
 According to Sir Nathaniel Wraxall, 'All the splendour of 
 a Court was laid aside, or only exhibited for a few hours on 
 a birthday. Rarely, during the first twenty years after his 
 accession, did the King join in any scene of public amuse- 
 ment, if we except the diversion of the theatre. Still more 
 rarely did he sit down at table with any of his courtiers or 
 nobility. His repasts, private, short, and temperate, never 
 led to the slightest excess.' 
 
 In private life, nothing could be more simple than the 
 regime which the royal pair adopted. The Queen spent a 
 great part of the morning with her tutor, Dr. Majendie, 
 who strove to teach her English, but to the end of her life 
 she never wrote or spoke the language with ease. When 
 her lessons were over, her needlework commenced, and 
 this employment was succeeded by exercise, when she 
 walked or rode, accompanied by her royal companion, till 
 dinner-time. In the evening, she played on the harpsichord 
 and sang, then joined in a quiet game of cribbage, and so 
 the day ended in monotonous dulness. When they 
 adjourned to Richmond in the summer, their habits were 
 unaltered. Their Majesties had, indeed, come to regard all 
 public ceremonies as a tax imposed on royalty, of which 
 they were ever anxious to rid themselves, and this increased 
 their unpopularity amongst all classes. 
 
 ' The Court,' writes Horace Walpole to my Lord Hert- 
 ford, ' independent of politics, makes a strange figure. The 
 recluse life led here at Richmond which is carried to such 
 an excess of privacy and economy, that the Queen's friseur 
 waits on them at dinner, and four pounds only of beef are 
 allowed for their soup disgusts all sorts of people. The 
 drawing-rooms are abandoned. Lady Buckingham was 
 the only woman there on Sunday se'nnight. In short, one
 
 ' WHAT ARE YOU THINKING OFT 73 
 
 hears of nothing but dissatisfaction, which, in the city, rises 
 almost to treason.' 
 
 With the exception of Edward, Duke of York, the King's 
 brothers and sisters were yet retained in the seclusion which 
 the King had once undergone, by the Princess Dowager. 
 Prince Henry, a lively lad, was one day asked if he had 
 been confined with the epidemic cold. ' Confined !' he 
 answered ; ' that I am, but without any cold.' On another 
 occasion, the Princess asked him, when he had been long 
 silent, if he were sulky. He replied, he was not; he was 
 only thinking. 
 
 ' And, pray,' said the Dowager, ' what are you thinking 
 of?' 
 
 ' I was thinking,' answered the boy, ' what I should feel, 
 if I had a son as unhappy as you make me.' 
 
 In 1767, the eldest of the King's brothers, Edward, 
 Duke of York, died. Gay, gallant, and free in his manners, 
 he was a general favourite with all, save his mother and 
 Lord Bute, whose schemes and favours towards his country- 
 men the Prince's lively tongue did not hesitate to ridicule. 
 In appearance, he is described as having loose and per- 
 petually rolling eyes, that were extremely short-sighted, 
 heavy features, and hair so light that it resembled feathers. 
 He had been sent into the Navy a few years before his 
 grandfather's death, and, after a service lasting eleven months, 
 was made captain of a frigate named the Phoenix. He was 
 subsequently present at the capture of Cherbourg, sailing 
 under Commander Howe, and likewise at St Cas, where he 
 behaved with great spirit. 
 
 Before he was eighteen, encouraged by his grandfather, he 
 had managed to escape from the maternal influence, and 
 freely mixed in the society of the day, to which his elder 
 brother was then a stranger, and, with that easy gallantry 
 proverbial to Princes, he felt little difficulty in making love 
 to some of the fairest women whom fate cast in his way.
 
 74 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 One of the first of these was my Lady Essex, then young 
 and singularly beautiful, whose attractions, however, in a 
 little while had to give way for those of the young wife of 
 Charles, third Duke of Richmond, to whom he chattered a 
 good deal of love and of the passion which he declared 
 consumed him. His errant though Princely fancy again 
 took wings, and this time settled on a charming widow, 
 Lady Mary Coke, who was declared the envy of her sex, in- 
 asmuch as she was the happy possessor of youth, health, wit, 
 wealth, beauty, and, better than all, liberty. But though 
 Lady Mary always spoke of him as her betrothed, and 
 mourned for his early death, the gay Prince was not constant 
 to her, but sought fresh attraction in Lady Stanhope. 
 
 This charming woman vastly gratified the world by 
 affording it some amusing scandal concerning her domestic 
 feuds with her lord and master, Sir William Stanhope, 
 brother to my Lord Chesterfield. The story is told of this 
 happy pair that, returning from the Continent on one 
 occasion, Sir William stopped the carriage at Blackheath, 
 and, getting out, made his spouse the following vastly polite 
 speech : ' Madam,' said he, ' I hope I shall never see your 
 face again,' The lady was not behindhand in courtesy. 
 ' Sir,' she replied, ' I will take all the care I can that you 
 shall not' And so they parted. 
 
 This was the lady to whom Edward, Duke of York, made 
 love a proceeding in which he was encouraged by her 
 scampish brother, Sir Francis Delaval, who believed Sir 
 William to be in a dying state, and who fondly hoped he 
 might have a Royal Duke as his brother-in-law. But the 
 fates decreed otherwise. The Prince was fond of the 
 Continent, where he spent many a pleasant day, and had 
 made friends with the foreign Courts he visited during his 
 journeys. When, in 1762, on the passing of the Peace Bill, 
 he had been sent out of England, that his too open expres- 
 sions might not injure the policy of my Lord Bute, he
 
 MY LADY STANHOPE. 75 
 
 willingly betook himself to the pleasant shores of the 
 Mediterranean, where he enjoyed himself much to his 
 satisfaction. When he was expected at Florence, Clement 
 XIIL, who then sat on the Papal throne, directed Cardinal 
 Albani to inform Sir Horace Mann, the English Minister at 
 that city, that, if His Royal Highness wished to visit Rome, 
 he should be received there with all the honours due to his 
 birth. Moreover, the Nuncio at the winter city was 
 requested by his Holiness to wait on the Prince upon his 
 arrival, and deliver him the same most civil message, which 
 was received with pleasure. To Rome His Royal Highness 
 went, where he was entertained by the Pope with graceful 
 and dignified ceremonies. 
 
 Some rumours of his pleasures and extravagances reach- 
 ing home, the pious Christians round the King complained 
 of his brother's ways, and a popular preacher delivered a 
 sermon for which he selected the text, 'The younger son 
 gathered all together, and took his journey into a far 
 country, and there wasted his substance with riotous living.' 
 Alarmed by these reports, the King ordered his brother 
 home, and took a peremptory means of securing obedience 
 by stopping his remittances, which sensible scheme had not, 
 however, the desired effect, for, though bereft of supplies, 
 the Duke continued his riotous living in a far country. 
 
 It happened that he was in Paris, in 1767, when news 
 reached him that a woman fair to see, who had once held 
 his heart, was now at Genoa. This information at once 
 made the Prince impatient to reach Italy and the object of 
 his love. He therefore left Paris at once ; on his way, he 
 was entertained by the Due de Villars at his villa, situated 
 between Aix and Marseilles, where a ball 'was made for 
 him,' at which he gaily danced all night, and then, impatient 
 of delay, insisted on getting into his carriage, and proceed- 
 ing on his journey. When he arrived at Marseilles, he was 
 seized with sudden shuddering, but again determined to
 
 76 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 proceed on his way, and next day reached Monaco. Here 
 he was obliged to be confined to bed, and, on the physicians 
 being called, it was found a heavy fever had set in, under 
 which he rallied for fourteen days, and then died, in the 
 twenty-eighth year of his age. 
 
 A second child was born to the royal pair in August, 1763, 
 who was baptized Frederick, was afterwards created Duke 
 of York, and ultimately played an important part in the 
 history of the country, of which more anon. At the close 
 of the year which gave him birth, the dreary seclusion into 
 which their Majesties had sunk was temporarily dissipated 
 by the marriage of the King's eldest sister, the Princess 
 Augusta. The Princess was not without some personal 
 charms, though she had the heavy features and light hair 
 hereditary to the house of Guelph. Her complexion was 
 fair and soft, and her figure shapely ; moreover, she had 
 now reached the age of six-and-twenty, and it was considered 
 desirable that a husband should be found for her. Her 
 mother, the Dowager, had been brought to arrive at this 
 conclusion from the fact that she discerned the Princess 
 was inclined to meddle in the domestic politics of the 
 Court Like her brother Edward, and indeed most of her 
 brothers and sisters, she had little affection for her mother, 
 detested Bute, and, so far as in her lay, was apt to thwart 
 his policy and unite her sympathies with those of the 
 populace, in favour of William Pitt. That she might com- 
 municate this dangerous sentiment to the young Queen, 
 became a dread to the Dowager ; for Her Majesty might 
 influence the weak-minded King, and allure him from the 
 maternal allegiance to which he had hitherto blind 'y sub- 
 mitted. 
 
 The Dowager, however, could not hinder the Princess's 
 visits to the Queen's House, but, to hinder the expression of 
 any disloyal speech, she accompanied her there, and in this 
 way prevented a freedom of conversation which she had
 
 A PRINCE OF BRUNSWICK. 77 
 
 come to fear. Meanwhile, she cast her eyes about for a 
 husband who would remove the Princess to a sufficiently 
 safe distance from the scene of English politics. 
 
 To accomplish this purpose, Charles William Ferdinand, 
 hereditary Prince of Brunswick, was selected ; for, though 
 the rival house of Brunswick was hated by the Dowager, yet 
 she deigned to honour it by alliance with one of her offspring, 
 because it suited her purpose. The lady's dowry was, there- 
 fore, fixed at the handsome sum of ^80,000, with an annuity 
 of ^8,000 a year, ^5,000 of which was chargeable on the 
 Irish revenue, and the remainder on Hanover. Such was 
 the golden prize held out to the Prince, who was bidden to 
 come and claim its possession. His Royal Highness was 
 nephew to Frederick the Great of Prussia, and was, more- 
 over, a gay and gallant soldier, who had fought well at the 
 famous battle of Hastenbeck, and likewise at the siege of 
 Crefeld. Not only was His Highness brave, but what is 
 oftentimes more in women's eyes, he was handsome. A 
 slight, tall, soldierly figure, and a bright, sun-tanned face 
 added to his attractions. He was the beau ideal of a hero 
 and a lover, and the people were all prepared to receive him 
 as such, and give him a hearty welcome. 
 
 Accordingly, when he set foot on English ground at 
 Harwich, he was met by a right loyal throng, who greeted 
 him with shouts and demonstrations of joy, and at night 
 they almost tore down the house at which he stayed, in 
 order that they might see him again. A Chelmsford his 
 reception was quite as enthusiastic. Here it was that an 
 honest Quaker, forcing his way into the room where the 
 Prince was resting, pulled off his hat, and said, ' Friend, my 
 religion forbids me to fight, but I honour those that fight 
 well. Thou art a valiant Prince, and art to be married to a 
 lovely Princess ; love her, make her a good husband, and 
 the Lord bless you both !' Alas ! His Highness did not 
 know what the good man said, but he understood that
 
 78 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 some courteous speech was being made him, and, with the 
 gracious instinct of a Prince and a soldier, grasped the 
 Quaker by the hand in right friendly fashion. 
 
 If the friendly mood of the people prepared him for a like 
 reception in the royal palace, he was doomed to disappoint- 
 ment Though living far from the land of political strife, he 
 had made himself intimately acquainted with the workings 
 of the State machinery, and had openly, and in no measured 
 terms, avowed his admiration for Pitt and his policy. This 
 was an outrage which the King and the Dowager could not 
 forgive, and they now determined to show him they had 
 not forgotten his imprudent speeches. When he arrived in 
 London, he at once called to pay his respects to their 
 Majesties, who on this occasion were by no means gracious, 
 the fourth question they put to him being, ' When do you 
 go ?' From the Queen's House he hied him to Leicester 
 House, to wait on the Dowager, and see his future wife for 
 the first time. He found his bride-elect gracious and 
 pleasing, and he, who had already proved himself a gallant 
 soldier, now showed he was likewise a polished courtier, for 
 he delicately hinted he had intended to return unwed, if 
 the Princess had not pleased him, but now he looked 
 forward to the day of his marriage with delight. 
 
 It had previously been decided by His Majesty that the 
 Prince's stay should be rendered as short and as disagree- 
 able as possible, and this resolution was now put into effect 
 Somerset House was appointed as his residence previous to 
 his marriage, but no guards were stationed there, and the 
 Lord Steward of the Household was instructed to select the 
 company who should dine with him. The marriage took 
 place not in the Chapel Royal, but in the great Council 
 Chamber, on Monday, January 16, 1764, when the servants 
 of the King and Queen were forbidden to appear in new 
 clothes, as was customary on such occasions, and the cere- 
 mony was curtailed as much as possible of all splendour.
 
 AT THE OPERA. 79 
 
 The public were quick to notice the petty indignities 
 shown to the Prince by the Court, and, aware of the cause 
 which prompted them, soon resented these slights. The 
 popularity of the King still more decreased, and that of the 
 Prince rose rapidly. As he went one morning to St. James's, 
 he saw in the crowd which surrounded him a soldier in the 
 uniform of Elliot's Light Horse, a regiment with which he 
 had once served in action, and gracefully kissed hands to 
 the man ; the crowd immediately turned to see who was the 
 individual so favoured. ' What,' said they, ' does he know 
 you ?' ' Yes,' answered the soldier ; ' he once led me into 
 a scrape which nobody but himself could have brought me 
 out of again.' 
 
 Horace Walpole, who relates the story, adds : 
 
 ' You may guess how much this added to the Prince's popu- 
 larity, which was at high-water mark before.' 
 
 An opportunity soon occurred of giving vent to this 
 feeling publicly. On the Thursday after the marriage, it was 
 known that the Prince and his bride, and the Court, were 
 to attend a performance at Covent Garden, and the throng 
 which gathered round the theatre was enormous. 
 
 ' The crowd to see the Prince of Brunswick at the play 
 exceeded all belief,' writes that worthy chronicler of gossip, 
 Horace Walpole, to Horace Mann. ' Your brother James 
 told me this morning that he went to Covent Garden at two 
 in the afternoon, to wait till the doors of the play-house 
 should be opened. He soon found himself in such a mob, 
 that he could not even lift his hand to his head, and so re- 
 mained for five hours, without getting in at last ; and, 
 though he had stood in the open piazza, he perspired so 
 violently that, at his return, he was forced to change every 
 thread he had on. The shouts, claps, and huzzas were im- 
 moderate.' 
 
 When the King and Queen entered the house, they were 
 received with chilling silence, but on the appearance of
 
 8o COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 the Prince and Princess the house rang with cheers. The 
 gallery called for the hero of popular favour to come for- 
 ward, and when he complied fresh applause filled the 
 theatre, whilst His Majesty looked on in grave displeasure. 
 In the middle of the play, the Prince went out, at which, 
 according to the Gentleman 's Magazine, ( the audience were 
 agitated by various surmises. The fact was, His Serene 
 Highness, as he did not well understand the language of 
 the players, took that opportunity to pay his compliments to 
 the Royal Society, of which he was elected a Fellow, and 
 Lord Moreton, being in the chair, made him a very polite 
 speech in the name of the society, which His Highness an- 
 swered without hesitation.' 
 
 When he returned, the applause was renewed. On Satur- 
 day night, when the royal family attended the opera, the en- 
 thusiasm displayed was greater, if possible, than on the 
 former night, and the crowd as large. So thronged indeed 
 was the house, that three fair ladies, to wit, Her Grace of 
 Leeds, Lady Denbigh, and Lady Scarborough, sat on chairs 
 between the scenes. The doors of the front boxes were 
 thrown open, and the passages filled ; and women of fashion, 
 arrayed in gorgeous silks and floating feathers, stood 
 crushing against each other on the stairs during the per- 
 formance. 
 
 On the next day, Sunday, the Prince more than ever 
 offended the Court party by paying a visit to Pitt at his 
 country house at Hayes, with whom he remained in confer- 
 ence for two hours ; on another occasion he visited the 
 Duke of Newcastle, who was as fully obnoxious to the King 
 and Lord Bute, and arranged to meet the chiefs of the Op- 
 position at the Duke's residence, which he did on a subse- 
 quent day. Nor was this all. He thrice dined with the 
 Duke of Cumberland, who had not been to Court for a 
 considerable time on account of a political disagreement 
 with His Majesty. On one of the occasions on which
 
 A SUBSCRIPTION BALL. 81 
 
 the old Duke was his host, His Serene Highness, to show 
 his resentment to his royal brother-in-law, was guilty of a 
 breach of etiquette, which was not soon forgotten by the 
 King. The incident is narrated by Walpole, who says, the 
 first time the Prince dined with the Duke, he ' was ap- 
 pointed to be at St. James's at half an hour after seven to 
 a concert. As the time drew near, De Feronce (his chief 
 secretary) pulled out his watch. The Duke took the hint 
 and said, " I am sorry to part with you, but I fear your time 
 is come." He replied, " N'importe" and sat on drinking 
 coffee, and it was half an hour after eight before he set out 
 from Upper Grosvenor Street for St. James's.' On another 
 occasion, when a ball was given for him at the Queen's 
 House, the Prince did not put in an appearance until two 
 hours after it had begun. At this assembly there were none 
 of the nobility present, besides their Majesties' servants, 
 but the Duchesses of Ancaster and Marlborough, and Lord 
 Bute's two daughters ; the usual royal economy was observed, 
 and the guests were sent home supperless. The next day 
 there was a subscription ball for him at Carlisle House, 
 Soho, when a hundred and fifty men subscribed five guineas 
 each, in return for which each received three tickets. This 
 was chiefly got up by the Dukes of Grafton and Devon- 
 shire, whose very names were hateful to the royal ears. 
 The Duke of Cumberland was present, and all the beauties 
 of the town ; the whole affair was brilliant and magnificent. 
 The Prince was dressed in a rich suit of silver brocade that 
 cost eleven guineas a yard, and so delighted was he with 
 the entertainment that he danced till five o'clock in the 
 morning. That day he and his bride reluctantly left town 
 for Harwich, from whence they were to embark ; on their 
 way they were to pass through Witham, and rest the night 
 there at Lord Abercorn's. My Lord stayed in town, and did 
 not trouble to play the host My Lady Strafford said to 
 him, ' And so, my Lord, I hear your house is to be royally 
 ** 6
 
 8a COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 filled on Wednesday.' * And serenely,' he answered, and 
 closed his mouth for the remainder of the day. 
 
 Their departure had been originally fixed for the 26th, 
 and they were now obliged to keep their agreement, though 
 the Prince would willingly have tarried ; however, a mes- 
 sage was conveyed to him that a yacht was in readiness to 
 convey them home, and he was obliged to take the hint 
 The day of their departure was by no means propitious ; 
 the weather was wild and threatening, and continued so on 
 the following day when they set sail. A tempest overtook 
 their yacht, and no news of them reached St. James's until 
 the middle of February. Meanwhile a rumour arose that 
 they had been driven away by the Court ; the City was in 
 an uproar, the town excited ; reports were spread that the 
 Princess's yacht was sunk on the coast of Holland, and 
 their supposed deaths were said to have been caused by the 
 King and the Dowager ; even the basket-women in St. 
 James's Market, according to Mrs. Carter, spoke their minds, 
 and wished ' that those who sent the Prince and Princess 
 away were in their places.' They arrived, however, in safety, 
 after considerable danger, at Helvoetsluys. The daughter 
 of this Prince and Princess afterwards became the unhappy 
 wife of George IV. 
 
 Early in 1765, the King, then in the twenty-eighth year 
 of his age, was afflicted by one of those mental attacks to 
 which he afterwards became subject through life. To the 
 public at large it was announced that His Majesty had 
 caught cold and fever ; but, this being considered an insuffi- 
 cient reason to give a gossiping and curious world for his 
 confinement during three months, it was afterwards stated 
 that a humour which should have appeared in his face 
 had, by the neglect of his physicians, settled on his breast. 
 The nation became anxious, but, so well was the secret 
 kept by those allowed to see the King, that his Prime 
 Minister was left in ignorance of the nature of his illness,
 
 THE KIND'S MADNESS. 83 
 
 and it was commonly whispered His Majesty had fallen 
 into a consumption. 
 
 The sudden manner in which his madness first presented 
 itself is recorded by Philip Withers, senior Page of the Pre- 
 sence, in a rare pamphlet called ' History of the Royal Malady.' 
 The King and Queen were driving through Windsor Forest 
 in a phaeton, when the King abruptly stopped the horses, 
 and saying, ' There he is,' descended. 
 
 ' His Majesty now approached a venerable oak,' says the 
 author, who was in attendance at the time, 'that had en- 
 livened the solitude of that quarter of the park upwards of 
 a century and a half. At the distance of a few yards, he 
 uncovered and advanced, bowing with the utmost respect, 
 and then, seizing one of the lower branches, he shook it 
 with the most apparent cordiality and regard, just as a man 
 shakes his friend by the hand. 
 
 'The Queen turned pale with astonishment, the reins 
 dropped from her hands. Never was I in such a conster- 
 nation lest the horses in the carriage, finding themselves 
 under no control, should run headlong to destruction. Nor 
 did I dare call for assistance, lest the attendants should 
 witness a scene that I desired to keep from their view. At 
 last Her Majesty became attentive to her situation, and, as 
 the reins were happily within reach, they were recovered, 
 and the Queen commanded me to dismount, and to go and 
 intimate, in a soothing voice and suppliant terms, that Her 
 Majesty wished for his company. On my approach, I per- 
 ceived the King was in earnest conversation, for His 
 Majesty anticipated the answer from his royal friend, and 
 then made a reply. It was the King of Prussia with whom 
 His Majesty enjoyed this rural interview ; continental poli- 
 tics were the subject. What I heard it would be unpardon- 
 able to divulge. I cannot, however, withhold a remark 
 that must fill every loyal bosom with pleasure ; His Majesty, 
 though under a momentary dereliction of reason, evinced 
 
 6a
 
 84 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 the most cordial attachment to freedom and the Protestant 
 faith. 
 
 ' I approached with reverence. 
 
 " May it please your Majesty " 
 
 ' " Don't you see I am engaged ?" answered the King. 
 
 ' I bowed and withdrew. 
 
 ' " Go again," said the Queen. 
 
 ' I went. 
 
 '"May I presume to inform your Majesty that " 
 
 '"What is the matter?" said the King, in great sur- 
 prise. 
 
 ' " Her Majesty is in the carriage, and I am commanded 
 to intimate her desire of your Majesty's company." 
 
 ' " Good lack-a-day," said the King, " that is true. Run 
 on and inform Her Majesty I am hastening to her."' 
 
 This attack was, however, slight, and never rose to the 
 height of frenzy ; the principal symptoms which His 
 Majesty showed were great restlessness and incessant 
 chatter, which occasionally lasted for hours, and which was 
 bereft of all coherency. In three months he was considered 
 quite restored, and was not again afflicted with this dreadful 
 malady until the year 1 7 88. 
 
 During these three-and-twenty years, full of party warfare, 
 national peril, and important political changes, the private 
 .life of the King was not without some interesting events. 
 Children were born to him, alliances were made by his 
 family, and death removed some of those nearest his heart 
 But amongst these latter, William, Duke of Cumberland, 
 the King's uncle, who shuffled off the mortal coil in 1765, 
 cannot be reckoned. This Prince, popularly known as 
 ' Billy the Butcher,' was at one time the best hated man in 
 England ; but, retiring from public life, he outlived his un- 
 popularity. 
 
 In youth he had been fierce and cruel, in the last years of 
 his life hard-hearted and licentious. He had lost Fontenoy,
 
 AN UNPOPULAR PRINCE. 85 
 
 a battle which cost the English nation ten thousand lives ; 
 had surrendered Hanover to Marshal d'Estre*es ; had been 
 taunted by his father with having ruined him, and disgraced 
 himself; had introduced the 'Bloody Mutiny Bill'; and had 
 sneered at the death of his brother, Frederick, Prince of 
 Wales. He had had a paralytic stroke, hadjimdergone 
 severe surgical operations for a wound in his leg which he 
 had received at Dettingen, had suffered from got t, and had 
 grown almost blind. He died suddenly on October 31, his 
 last words being, ' It is all over.' His remains were con- 
 ducted to Westminster Abbey with great pomp and state, 
 and many external signs of a woe remarkable for its absence, 
 and laid in the vault with his late Sacred Majesty. A few 
 days after the funeral, the young King commanded that 
 ' Much Ado about Nothing ' should be played, when many 
 wicked persons thought the title had a suggestive reference 
 to a late solemn event. 
 
 In this year, William Henry, Duke of Gloucester, the 
 favourite brother of the King, made a marriage which was 
 regarded by His Majesty as a mesalliance. At this period 
 the Duke had just arrived at his twenty-first year. As a 
 youth, he had been notably dull ; as a man, he was regarded 
 as not being particularly bright, and was, moreover, wholly 
 devoid even of that spare share of talents sufficient to 
 render a Prince clever in the eyes of gracious courtiers. In 
 character, however, he was staid, and far more respectable 
 than his brothers of York or Cumberland, and it was noted 
 that he had many traits in common with the King. 
 
 Before he had attained his majority,-this susceptible Prince 
 lost his heart to Maria, widow of James, second Earl of 
 Waldegrave, one of the most beautiful and fascinating 
 women of the day. This lady was one of the three 
 daughters of Sir Edward Walpole and of Mrs. Clement, a 
 milliner, on whose union the Church had never been asked 
 to pronounce a nuptial benediction. The triple offspring
 
 86 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 were, however, fair to see, and married well, one becoming 
 the spouse of the Hon. Frederick Keppel, afterwards the 
 Right Rev. Bishop of Exeter ; the second marrying Lionel, 
 fifth Earl of Dysart ; and the third, my Lord Waldegrave, 
 who at the time of her marriage was old enough to be her 
 father. My lord, however, considerately died whilst his 
 lady was yet young and passing fair, leaving her three 
 daughters and the mistress of considerable fortune. At an 
 early period of her widowhood she attracted many suitors, 
 the most favoured of whom was for the time the Duke of 
 Portland; when, however, a Prince appeared upon the 
 scene, the subject was dismissed, for my lady was ambitious, 
 and a suitor of the blood royal must have no rivals. The 
 Prince's frequent visits to her receptions became the talk of 
 the town. 
 
 'The Duke of Gloucester has professed a passion for the 
 Dowager Waldegrave,' writes Gilly Williams in 1764. < He 
 is never from her elbow. This flatters Horry Walpole not a 
 little, though he pretends to dislike it.' 
 
 The fact was that Horace Walpole, her uncle, did dislike 
 the attentions the Royal Duke openly paid her, and pointed 
 out the improbabilities of his marrying her, or, if he were 
 willing to do so, of his obtaining the King's consent. Lady 
 Waldegrave was a woman of the world, and, seeing the 
 wisdom of her uncle's advice, consented to copy a letter he 
 wrote for her to the Duke, in which she begged to decline 
 his further attentions, as she could not hope to be his wife, 
 and could not deign to be his mistress. After this the 
 Duke's visits ceased for a fortnight; they then became more 
 frequent and open than before; the fact was, he had married 
 her at her own house, her chaplain, Dr. Norton, performing 
 the ceremony. The Duke then made her promise not to 
 own the marriage even to her father, upon any consideration 
 m the world, without his permission. That permission was 
 withheld six years.
 
 MY LADY WALDEGRAVE. 87 
 
 My lady kept her word faithfully, refusing to satisfy her 
 family as to her condition; but yet living on such open 
 terms with the Duke, and in such a manner, that satisfied 
 them of her marriage. The houses, or lodgings, which she 
 took near the palaces in which he resided, were freely fur- 
 nished from the royal wardrobe. She was covered with 
 jewels ; her liveries were changed to a compound between 
 her late husband's and royalty. The Prince's gentlemen 
 handed her to her chair in public ; his coaches carried her 
 home; and finally, their Majesties continued to receive 
 her at Court, for reasons of their own. 
 
 < The King and Queen,' says Walpole, 'certainly intended 
 it should be supposed Lady Waldegrave was the Duke's 
 mistress. The world interpreted it in a contrary sense, in 
 compliment to the Queen's virtue, who, on that occasion, 
 wished her virtue might be thought more accommodating.' 
 
 Not satisfied with this, Lady Waldegrave became more 
 anxious to show the world she was kin with royalty. She 
 obtained apartments in the inner court at Hampton, and 
 demanded permission of the Lord Chamberlain to drive 
 her coach into it, an honour preserved to the royal family 
 alone. My Lord Chamberlain, after some hesitation, spoke 
 to the King, who peremptorily refused her the honour, on 
 which she indignantly threw up her lodgings, and retired 
 from Hampton. 
 
 The King and the Princess Dowager were indignant at 
 the Duke's ambiguous conduct, but it was not until six 
 years after his marriage, when his wife became pregnant, 
 that the weak-minded Duke found courage to confess 
 his union. As the Duke's heirs came within the line of 
 succession to the throne, it was deemed advisable that the 
 great officers of the State might be present at the birth. 
 The Duke, therefore, wrote to the King, to notify his mar- 
 riage and the condition of the Duchess, of which letter no 
 notice was taken.
 
 88 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 The King was surly and highly indignant ; he would 
 have been satisfied if the Duke had not decided on making 
 his alliance public, and was yet, according to Lord Hertford, 
 afraid of quarrelling with him. The Duchess said His 
 Majesty ' seems not to have enough of courage to be angry 
 with the Duke, but he will wound him in the dark, though 
 he dare do no more.' 
 
 The Duke behaved with more firmness than was expected. 
 He told Lord Rochford, the Secretary of State, that he 
 would demand the attendance of the Privy Council, for 
 the satisfaction of the nation. 
 
 * The King,' he added, ' may, if he pleases, forbid their 
 coming ; but I will summon them, and they shall answer it, 
 at their peril, to the nation, if they refuse. I married like a 
 boy, but I will defend my marriage like a man. Out of 
 respect to the King, I concealed it ; to satisfy him and the 
 nation, I must now authenticate it ; and if His Majesty does 
 not forthwith take the necessary steps for verifying it, I 
 myself will summon the House of Lords; will go there 
 myself, and in person beseech the House to press the King 
 for despatch.' 
 
 He then wrote to His Majesty a second time, when the 
 King sent a message that his marriage would be inquired 
 into after the birth of the child ; on this the Duke begged 
 that the examination might take place at once. Accordingly, 
 the Lord Chancellor and two other lords were despatched to 
 the Duke's residence, where they were received by the Duke 
 and Duchess, the Lord Bishop of Exeter, and two men 
 learned in the law, name Lee and Dunning. > After various 
 inquiries and attestations, the three wise lords retired; a 
 council was afterwards held, and finally, His Majesty gra- 
 ciously inclined to countenance the marriage, and the officers 
 of the State attended on the Duchess when she gave birth to 
 the Princess Sophia Matilda. 
 
 Though the King acknowledged the marriage, he by no
 
 DENMARK'S KING. 89 
 
 means looked on the Duke or Duchess with favour. The 
 latter he indeed regarded as a wily woman who had entrapped 
 a Prince not over-wise into a union beneath his rank. He 
 declared he never could think ' of placing her in a situation 
 to answer her extreme pride and vanity;' nor could he 
 receive her at Court ' without affronting all the sovereigns 
 of Europe by countenancing a mesalliance? His brother's 
 conduct he stigmatised as disgraceful, and we find him 
 writing to Lord North 'on the subject of this Duke, my 
 heart was wounded.' 
 
 But, notwithstanding the tender condition of this organ, 
 his economical Majesty refused later on to provide for his 
 brother's children, but he finally behaved towards them with 
 kindness and generosity. Though the Duke had risked 
 much for the sake of his gracious lady, yet before his death 
 he went the way of most princes, and loved another woman, 
 Lady Almeria Carpenter, lady of the bed-chamber to his 
 Duchess. Reference to this domestic scandal is made in 
 one of Horace Walpole's letters. Sir Nathaniel Wraxall also, 
 in his memoirs, says Lady Almeria, ' one of the most 
 beautiful women of her time, but one to whom Nature had 
 been sparing of intellectual attractions, reigned at Gloucester 
 House. The Duchess remained its nominal mistress, but 
 Lady Almeria constituted its ornament and its pride.' This 
 siren caused the Duchess such annoyance, that a separation 
 between husband and wife was agreed to in 1787. The 
 Duke died in 1803. 
 
 Another marriage took place in the royal family in 1766, 
 in the person of Caroline Matilda, the King's youngest 
 sister. In the month of October in this year, when fifteen 
 years old, this Princess became the wife of Christian VII., 
 King of Denmark She had been kept in her nursery, 
 says the author of the ' Memoirs of the Reign of George 
 III.,' 'till sent to Copenhagen ; had had no company but 
 servants, and could have seen nothing but an intimacy with
 
 90 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 Lord Bute, which all the Princess's children spoke of with 
 disgust ; and could have heard nothing but passionate lamen- 
 tations from the Princess on the impotence of power pos- 
 sessed by English Sovereigns lessons that seem to have 
 made but too deep impression on the inexperienced young 
 Queen of Denmark when she came to have a lover, and be 
 mistress of absolute power.' 
 
 This young Princess, whose union with the King of Den- 
 mark was arranged through State policy, was amiable, 
 beautiful, and accomplished, whilst her husband was known 
 to be a weak-minded, graceless libertine. All England 
 looked forward to the marriage as one destined to bring but 
 slight happiness to the Princess, whilst she herself, as the 
 time drew near for her departure, became depressed and 
 anxious. Her forebodings were soon destined to be realized, 
 and the short chapter of her life and early death form one of 
 the most interesting chapters in history. 
 
 The King was little more than sixteen at this period, but, 
 though young in years, he was already far advanced in vice. 
 In figure he was diminutive, in appearance he bore a strong 
 resemblance to his grandfather, George II., whose com- 
 plexion and white eyes he inherited. His Court was ruled 
 by Juliana Maria, the Queen Dowager, whose desire it was 
 to secure the throne for her son, Prince Frederick, and who 
 subsequently became the prime cause of the young Queen's 
 disgrace and misery. When Caroline Matilda arrived in 
 Denmark, her bridegroom-cousin took an aversion to her 
 which strengthened with time. After two years of married 
 life, during which she was subjected to many gross humilia- 
 tions through her husband's unconcealed amours, he left the 
 kingdom in order to visit England and some other European 
 countries. By the Court of St James's he was received 
 with some show of coldness, but by the nobility he was 
 sumptuously entertained and studiously courted, not- 
 withstanding that he spent his nights in drinking and
 
 BALL AT THE OPERA HOUSE. 91 
 
 dissipation, in the purlieus of St. Giles's, disguised as a 
 sailor. 
 
 Indeed, he made no decent concealment of his lack of 
 morals, as a crowded audience at Drury Lane noted on the 
 occasion of his witnessing the play of the ' Provoked Hus- 
 band.' In the comedy, the good old institution of marriage 
 is continually ridiculed, and at every passage sneering at the 
 ceremony, the little profligate clapped his royal hands in hearty 
 approbation of such sentiments. A few nights later, a crowded 
 house had the benefit of seeing him lying fast asleep in the 
 royal box during the performance of ' Jane Shore.' Charm- 
 ing Mrs. Bellamy played Alicia, and, offended at this 
 glaring instance of princely neglect, determined to rouse the 
 sleeping King ; she therefore, when opportunity permitted, 
 approached the royal box, which was close to the stage, and 
 in a tone so loud that it reached almost to a shriek, ex- 
 claimed, ' Oh ! thou false lord :' whereon the King awoke in 
 sudden alarm, and swore he would not have a woman with 
 a voice like that as his wife for all the world could give. 
 
 His profligacy was, however, no drawback to his popu- 
 larity, and he was enthusiastically received as the husband 
 of an English Princess. 
 
 'The King of Denmark,' writes the Queen to Lord 
 Harcourt, 'does amuse himself with plays, operas, balls, 
 assemblies, and seeing the beauty of the country of England. 
 This latter part, I must confess, I do envy him.' 
 
 Before leaving, the little King, in return for the great 
 civility shown him, gave a masquerade ball held at the 
 Opera House, at which two thousand five hundred persons 
 were present ; ' the greatest number of nobility and gentry 
 ever assembled together upon any occasion of the like 
 nature,' as the Annual Register remarks. The jewels worn 
 at this entertainment were estimated to be worth two mil- 
 lions of money. The Opera House was most brilliantly 
 illuminated ; the various costumes of the guests magnificent,
 
 92 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 and the whole entertainment a vast success. The King 
 and Queen sat in a box, looking gravely on at the immense 
 parti-coloured throng moving in the wide area beneath, 
 where His Danish Majesty danced with the charming 
 Duchess of Ancaster, and where blacks and punchinellos, 
 Moorish maidens and grim Turks, together with many 
 heroes and heroines of all times and climes, made up a 
 dazzling spectacle. Towards the close of the night, a noble 
 Duke had the misfortune to lose a snuff-box in the crowd, 
 on the lid of which was a portrait of the French King, set 
 in diamonds ; the finder of the valuable article was so pleased 
 with it that it was never returned to its rightful owner, though 
 a sum of ' fifty guineas, and no questions asked,' was offered 
 for its restoration. 
 
 This magnificent ball was, however, surpassed by an en- 
 tertainment given the King by the Prince de Conde" at 
 Chantilly, which, says the Annual Register, ' continued three 
 days and three nights ; during which there was an open 
 house kept for all comers and goers, without exception. 
 There was likewise a most grand hunt in the Forest of 
 Chantilly by candle-light. After a wild boar had been chased 
 for a good while, he was killed by a nobleman with a bow 
 and arrow. 
 
 When Christian VII. returned to his Court, he was ac- 
 companied by a physician, named Struensee, whom he had 
 met at Ahrensburg, adopted as a special favourite, and 
 readily induced to accompany him to Denmark. Struensee 
 was one of those brilliant adventurers who flash, meteor- 
 like, through courtly spheres for a season, and whose career 
 generally terminates in downfall and ignominy. Nature 
 had given him a handsome person, brilliant talents, ready 
 tact, and great grace of manner ; and, with these good 
 gifts, he now determined to win his way to rank and power. 
 He was already high in favour with the King, and in a 
 little while he succeeded in winning the confidence of the
 
 INTRIGUES AT THE DANISH COURT. 93 
 
 Queen. In her husband's absence from the Court, she had 
 commenced to interest herself in politics, to the annoyance 
 of the Queen Dowager ; and, on the return of the King, 
 she was by no means desirous of laying aside the influence 
 she had, meanwhile, gained. Struensee entered into her 
 schemes with great readiness, and the King's physician and 
 favourite was soon elevated to the rank of Prime Minister 
 of Denmark. 
 
 Struensee, however, not only succeeded in gaining the 
 young Queen's confidence, but in winning her love like- 
 wise ; a fact which neither of them took much pains to con- 
 ceal, and which soon became one of the scandals of the 
 Court. Her conduct visibly changed; she became gra- 
 ciously indifferent to her husband's amours, surrounded her- 
 self with perpetual gaiety, and introduced a new costume to 
 society, consisting of a slouched hat, black frock, and buck- 
 skin under-garments, in which she continually appeared in 
 public, whether walking, driving, or riding. Sir Robert 
 Murray Keith, the British Minister at Copenhagen, mentions 
 in his memoirs that, during his stay in Denmark, he ' never 
 saw the Queen in any other garb.' 
 
 Her open gallantries with her handsome physician and 
 Prime Minister gave as much offence to the ladies of her 
 Court, as the sudden elevation of the brilliant adventurer to 
 position and power afforded the Danish nobles. The press 
 denounced him, public opinion was inflamed, and the 
 Dowager Queen saw that the moment was ripe for their 
 downfall. With one stroke she might be able to rid the 
 kingdom not only of Struensee, but the Queen ; prove her 
 children illegitimate ; and see her beloved Prince Frederick 
 once more heir to the crown. For the execution of this 
 scheme, tact and boldness were necessary; nor were they 
 found wanting when needed. 
 
 The night selected for the downfall of the Queen and 
 her favourite was one on which a magnificent masked ball
 
 94 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 was held in the palace of Copenhagen. The King, Queen, 
 and their attendants entered the ball-room at ten o'clock ; 
 the handsome, brilliant Struensee was there already, and 
 Her Majesty danced with him through the greater part of 
 the night She then went to supper, where she remained 
 until three o'clock in the morning with a gay and select 
 circle of friends, at which hour both she and Struensee re- 
 tired. The time had now arrived when those who had 
 entered into the conspiracy of the Queen Dowager must 
 act Accordingly, one of her abettors, named Rantzau, went 
 to the King's chamber, woke him, and told him, with much 
 agitation, that there was a conspiracy on foot against his 
 crown and life, at the head of which were the Queen and 
 Struensee ; he was, moreover, informed that his sole means 
 of saving himself was by signing a warrant for their arrest, 
 which was then produced. The King, startled from his 
 sleep, was bewildered and shocked, but hesitated signing 
 the order, upon which the Queen Dowager and Prince 
 Frederick rushed into his room, and, repeating the same 
 story, besought His Majesty to have the Queen and Prime 
 Minister arrested. The King no longer deliberated, and 
 Struensee was seized in bed and hurried to the citadel, 
 from whence he was soon after conducted to the scaffold, 
 after making a full confession of his intimacy with the 
 Queen. 
 
 Meanwhile, Her Majesty was awakened by one of her 
 female attendants to receive a mandate ordering her to quit 
 the palace. In a moment she understood the situation in 
 which she was placed, and conscious that, if she could but 
 gain access to the King, she would overcome her enemies, 
 she hastily rose, and, putting on only her petticoat and 
 shoes, rushed towards His Majesty's apartments. In the 
 ante-chamber, however, she encountered Rantzau, seated 
 quietly in a chair, when, remembering her half-clad con- 
 dition, she hastily ran back to her bed-room, and, putting
 
 DENMARK'S QUEEN. 95 
 
 on some clothes, once more made her way to her husband's 
 chamber. Rantzau was not there; his place had been 
 taken by an officer, who forbade her further approach. She 
 at once seized him by the hair, and, demanding to see the 
 King, pushed him aside and advanced to the door. Here 
 two soldiers with crossed firelocks offered her further opposi- 
 tion. She commanded them to let her go by ; they both 
 fell on their knees and said, ' Our heads are answerable if we 
 allow your Majesty to pass.' 
 
 The Queen, being a woman of determination and courage, 
 without hesitation, jumped over their crossed muskets, and 
 ran towards the corridor leading to the King's apartment, 
 into which she finally forced her way, to find he had been 
 removed by her enemies, who feared her intention, and had 
 baffled its fulfilment. Exhausted and dejected, she re- 
 turned to her rooms, where Struensee's white bear-skin 
 cloak was found, and from whence, in the early dawn of a 
 January morning, she was hurried to the Castle of Cronen- 
 burg, a fortress situated about twenty miles from the capital : 
 and here, for the next four months, she remained, tortured 
 by the uncertainty of the fate her enemies held in store for 
 her. 
 
 In the last journals of Horace Walpole, a glimpse is given 
 of Danish Court life. 
 
 'The Queen, Struensee, and Brandt (who aided and 
 abetted Struensee, and shared his ignominious fate) had 
 acted like mad people,' says the biographer. ' They cer- 
 tainly gave the King laudanum frequently ; and yet, if he 
 did not go to bed so soon after supper as they chose, Brandt 
 used to kick him out of the room. Other instances ap- 
 peared, on the trial, of similar indignity. Sir Robert 
 Keith, after his return, owned to a person from whom I had 
 it that the junto certainly had meant, by drugs, to hurt the 
 King's understanding .... The Queen subsequently con- 
 fessed her intrigue with Struensee, and signed that confes-
 
 06 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 sion. When the counsellor who was to defend her went to 
 receive her orders, she laughed, and told him the story was 
 true.' 
 
 Meantime, the revolution and imprisonment of the Queen 
 caused a vast sensation in England. In Denmark, articles 
 were being framed against her for the purpose of proving 
 her children illegitimate, and probably of bringing her to 
 the block, when Sir Robert Keith was instructed to inter- 
 vene, his interference, moreover, being backed up by the 
 appearance of a powerful British squadron in the Baltic. 
 These measures had the desired effect on the Court of 
 Denmark. The Queen was at once liberated from the for- 
 tress, and, escorted by the British squadron, she sailed to 
 Stade, in Hanover, from whence she was conducted to the 
 Castle of Zell, the place where the ill-fated Sophia Dorothea, 
 wife of George I., had spent thirty years of gloomy captivity. 
 It was not, however, rendered a prison to Denmark's Queen ; 
 she was surrounded by a small Court, with whom she quickly 
 became a favourite ; saw her friends, and found time to 
 enter into a conspiracy for her restoration to her throne. 
 Death, however, frustrated this project , three years after her 
 departure from Denmark, she died in the twenty-third year 
 of her age. 
 
 When news of the revolution which displaced the Queen 
 from her throne reached England, the Princess Dowager was 
 fast approaching her last end. All her life she had been a 
 woman of determination and courage, and now, when at 
 death's door, these traits did not depart from her. For 
 three months she had suffered from a cancer in her throat, 
 but she refused to let anyone examine it, save a German 
 page, who acted as surgeon, and the only medicine she 
 would use was hemlock. Knowing that death was near, she 
 had sent for her eldest daughter, the Princess of Brunswick ; 
 but neither to her, nor to any other member of her family, 
 did she in any way allude to her approaching demise, or
 
 DEATH OF THE PRINCESS DOWAGER. 97 
 
 even acknowledge her danger. Scarcely able to speak from 
 weakness, she received visitors, and once, a few days before 
 her death, on reading in the newspapers a statement of her 
 perilous condition, she at once ordered her coach, and drove 
 through the streets, in order to disguise the real state of her 
 health. That she was, at the same time, fully conscious of 
 her approaching end there can be no doubt, from the fact 
 that the Princess of Brunswick, on entering her mother's 
 room suddenly, found her reading a book, which she hastily 
 hid under her couch. When she afterwards left the apart- 
 ment, the Princess looked at the work, and found it 'A 
 Preparation for Death.' After hearing of her youngest 
 daughter's imprisonment, she scarcely took any nourishment 
 but cordials, and grew gradually weaker. Two days before 
 her death, she had an interview that lasted a couple of 
 hours with Lord Bute, who had continued her friend and 
 adviser to the last ; when he called next day, the King being 
 there, she refused to see him. 
 
 Their Majesties had called to pay her their usual weekly 
 visit an hour before their regular time; hearing they had 
 arrived, she rose, dressed, and would have walked to meet 
 them, but the Princess of Brunswick ran out and called in 
 the King and Queen. They remained with her until ten 
 o'clock, when she went to bed. A couple of women and 
 her page sat with her during the night ; at half-past six next 
 morning, not hearing her breathe, the page softly drew the 
 bed-curtains, and saw that the Princess was dead. This 
 was on February 8, 1772. 
 
 For twenty years since the death of her husband, she had 
 enjoyed a revenue of ^64,000 a year, and though she 
 lived in privacy, and with strict economy, she, to the sur- 
 prise of all, left behind her but ^27,000, which was found 
 in one of her cabinets. It then obtained universal credence 
 that she had given the vast sum she was previously supposed 
 to have hoarded to Lord Bute; and this belief gained 
 
 7
 
 98 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 ground when it was remembered he had purchased an 
 estate in Bedfordshire for ;i 14,000, had built a house 
 there, which he had furnished in a magnificent and costly 
 manner, and furthermore erected a mansion in town, at a 
 time when he had no visible source of wealth, or estate, and 
 his wife's inheritance being so tied up that it was impossible 
 for him to raise money on it. 
 
 Even His Majesty was not without having his suspicion 
 as to the source of Lord Bute's wealth. Some years pre- 
 viously the Dowager had given him the library of her late 
 husband, Frederick, Prince of Wales, to which she had no 
 testamentary right. Lord Bute, however, had the books 
 quietly removed before any knowledge of the affair came to 
 His Majesty's ears. The King, when made aware of the 
 gift, was justly incensed, and, though Lord Bute offered to 
 restore it, declined on the ground that he ' should not be 
 the first to proclaim to the world that his mother had done 
 wrong.' When, however, the Bedfordshire estate was pur- 
 chased, His Majesty, according to Huish, significantly said 
 to his mother's favourite, 'Take care, my lord, that the 
 people do not say you got your riches from the same 
 quarter as you got your books.' 
 
 The Princess had been the best hated woman in her son's 
 kingdom, and public rancour was kept up till the tomb 
 closed over her remains. But a few days before her death 
 a paragraph went the round of the papers which stated that 
 ' fifty guineas were yesterday offered and refused to insure 
 one hundred pounds on the life of a certain great lady in 
 Pall Mall, for two months only ; and five offered at the 
 same time and refused to underwrite her for three days.' 
 Nor was this all As the funeral procession moved through 
 the streets trom Carlton House to Westminster Abbey, the 
 mob huzzaed for delight, and forcibly stripped the black 
 cloth from the platform at the Abbey, before half the pro- 
 cession had passed across. It is more extraordinary yet to
 
 THE BEST HATED WOMAN. 99 
 
 record that the soldiers on guard, lest they should lose their 
 share in the plunder, followed the felonious example of the 
 crowd, and secured for themselves as much of the cloth as 
 they could. 
 
 Her income went to the King, and her jewels, plate, and 
 trinkets to her remaining children, who could not agree as 
 to the adequate division of these precious mementoes, and 
 therefore sent them down to Christie's in Pall Mall, where 
 they were sold by public auction for the benefit of their 
 joint owners.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 The King's Brother, Henry Frederick, Duke of Cumberland- 
 Remarkable Intrigue Lord Grosvenor's Courtship The 
 Royal Lover and his Amorous Letters The Countess's 
 Reply Royal Marriage Bill The King and Queen at Kew 
 The Prince and Perdita Robinson The Meeting at Old 
 Kew by Moonlight The Duchess of Cumberland courts 
 Popularity Midnight Revelry at Lord Chesterfield's 
 Charles Fox The Charming Duchess of Devonshire and 
 the Westminster Election Mrs. Crouch and Mrs. Bel- 
 lington. 
 
 THE King's third brother, Henry Frederick, created Duke 
 of Cumberland a short time after the demise of his grand- 
 uncle, ' Billy the Butcher,' was destined to give his royal 
 mother more trouble, and the nation more scandal, than 
 either the Dukes of York or Gloucester. In appearance 
 he had the advantage of his brothers ; in intellect he did 
 not surpass their dull level ; in stature he was small ; and 
 in habits degraded. This is the Prince concerning whom a 
 writer in the daily press declared he would not say any 
 more just then ; ' for to reproach a man with being an idiot 
 is an insult to God,' said this religious scribe. From the 
 strict confinement in which he had been kept until he had 
 obtained his majority, he sallied forth to satiate himself 
 with reckless vice, and bring ridicule and disgrace upon his 
 name and family. The morals and manners of the age, 
 and the proverbial frailty of Princes, would not perhaps 
 have rendered his coarse amours in any way notorious, had
 
 MY LORD GROSVENOR IN LOVE. 101 
 
 he not engaged in an intrigue with the wife of the first 
 Earl Grosvenor, then young and beautiful, witty and accom- 
 plished. 
 
 My Lord Grosvenor was a gay courtier, and a man of 
 pleasure, who had married Henrietta, daughter of Henry 
 Vernon, of Hilton, in the county of Stafford, Esquire. The 
 circumstances under which they met were not without 
 romance, and the manner of his brief wooing was certainly 
 characteristic of the age. My Lord was walking one day in 
 Kensington Gardens, whilst his coach waited for him at the 
 gate, when, a sudden summer shower coming on, he took 
 refuge in an alcove, where Miss Vernon and her sister like- 
 wise sought refuge. My Lord was gallant by nature, and 
 addressed the ladies ; they were most courteously inclined, 
 and made reply, and their conversation ended by his Lord- 
 ship requesting them to do him the honour of sharing his 
 carriage, as the rain continued, which they, nothing loth, 
 consented to do. In riding back to town, his Lordship 
 became attentive to the elder of the ladies, and she, not to 
 be behindhand in paying him a compliment,* after the 
 fashion of the day, said his Lordship's coach was the easiest 
 she ever rode in, to which he replied he ' was vastly happy 
 at its meeting with her approbation, and that she might be 
 the mistress of it whenever she pleased.' The lady blushed, 
 the Lord became more amorous of her beauty, and next 
 day called on her parents and made proposals for her hand, 
 when the pair were duly married. My lady bore my Lord 
 four children ; and all went well until Henry Frederick, 
 Duke of Cumberland, came upon the domestic scene, and 
 professed to admire her ladyship vastly. 
 
 Flattered by the passing admiration of a Prince of the 
 royal blood, the Countess listened to his protestations of 
 love, and was quickly lured to ruin and disgrace, which her 
 husband a worthless profligate did not hesitate in ex- 
 posing to the publicity of a divorce court Their letters
 
 102 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 were produced at the trial, ' and never,' says Horace 
 Walpole, 'was the public regaled with a collection of greater 
 folly ! Yet, to the lady's honour be it said, that bating a 
 few oaths, which sounded more masculine than tender, the 
 advantage in grammar, spelling, and style was all in her 
 favour. His Royal Highness's diction and learning scarce 
 exceeded that of a cabin boy !' 
 
 The records of this remarkable case have been preserved 
 among the celebrated trials of the period, and throw no 
 inconsiderable light on the Duke's character, as well as on 
 the manners of the times. 
 
 The royal lover's remarkable epistles were addressed to 
 ' My dear little Angel,' and ' My ever dearest Love.' Pass- 
 ing over some strong sentiments, the Countess is apostro- 
 phised in language that rises almost to the height of poesy, 
 as, ' Thou dearest angel of my soul !' Then the Princely 
 youth exclaims, ' O, that I could but bear your pain for 
 you, I should be happy!' and adds, in language common to 
 all lovers of other men's wives, then and now, ' What grieves 
 me most ' (is) ' that they who ought to feel, don't know the 
 inestimable prize, the treasure they have in you.' In another 
 of these effusions, the amorous Duke tells my Lady, ' I got 
 to supper about nine o'clock, but I could not eat, and so 
 got to bed about ten. I then prayed for you, my dearest 
 love, kissed your dearest little hair, and laid down and 
 dreamt of you; had you on the dear little couch ten 
 thousand times in my arms, kissing you, and telling you 
 how much I loved and admired you, and you seemed 
 pleased. ,But, alas ! when I woke, I found it all delusion ; 
 nobody by me but myself at sea . . . . O, my love, mad 
 and happy beyond myself to tell you how I love you, and 
 have thought of you ever since I have been separated from 
 you.' 
 
 He then quotes some lines from Prior about amorous 
 riames, beauteous eyes, the pangs of absence, and such-like
 
 ' GOD BLESS YOU.' 103 
 
 subjects, which poets true, and lovers ardent, delight in dis- 
 coursing, and finally closes the letter from which these 
 extracts have been taken with the following rather incoherent, 
 but remarkable expressions : ' God bless you ! I shan't forget 
 you. God knows you have told me so before. I have your 
 heart, and it is warm in my breast. I hope mine feels as 
 easy to you, thou joy of my life. Adieu.' 
 
 These letters were written at a time when Lady Grosvenoi 
 was about to give birth to a child a situation that did not, 
 however, by any means prevent her replying to her lover. 
 It happened that one day her lord met a servant going to 
 post one of her pure love epistles, directed under cover to 
 Mrs. Reda, a milliner, who made herself and her house 
 useful in various delightful ways to lovers in distress. My 
 Lord, who had become suspicious, opened the letter and 
 read it. In the next effusion written by her ladyship to her 
 royal lover, some reference is made to this unforeseen 
 accident. 
 
 ' He,' she commences, referring to her lawful lord and 
 master, 'appears rather in better temper to-day, so I'm in 
 great hopes he did not get enough of the Letter to make 
 out much. He stayed out very late last night, which seems 
 to have occasioned a weezing to-day. By means of my 
 sisters, I think I can send and receive my letters very safe 
 for the future. Carry,' continues the letter, ' is out of Town 
 for a few days, so in the meantime I send them by another 
 sister, who comes to see me every day, and she thinks it 
 some business I have with Reda about some Millenary that 
 I don't chuse he should know of; so, if she gets ever a 
 Letter for me, she knows she is not to take it out of her 
 pocket till we are alone. So it's all cleverly settled . . . 
 I resume my pen to tell you to-day how sincerely I esteem 
 you. He is still rather more come about again to-day. 
 Yesterday he shook hands with me, and this morning he 
 came and kissed me, and said he was going out of Town to
 
 104 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 Walthamstow, to Dine with his Brother ; perhaps he is gone 
 to ask his advice, but I don't care; he may take what 
 measures he pleases with me, if you will but love me. I 
 had a note from Mrs. Reda this evening ; she says she is 
 certain he dares not say a word to her, but she wishes he 
 would above all things, for that she knows very well how to 
 answer him, for that she knows enough of his Intrigues for 
 him to be afraid of saying anything to her, and she is sure 
 he is not assez Hardi to say a word to her upon the subject 
 ... I hope I shall be in London when you come back ; I 
 dare say I shall. I fancy he had not a mind to part with 
 me, let him have seen what he wou'd in ye Letter, for he 
 asked me Yesterday when I should be able to go into 
 Cheshire. I told him I coo'd not give the least guess, as it 
 depended entirely upon how I was, and I think I'v laid a 
 good scheme ; for I've alreaddy complained I've got a pain 
 in my side, and I intend to say it's much worse at the end 
 of the month, and that I can't bear the motion of a carriage. 
 It will, I really believe, be a very good plan, for, if I said I 
 had a Feaver, or anything of that kind, a physician would 
 know by my Pulse I had not, and might discover me to 
 him. And, besides, this will be a more lasting complaint; 
 so at the end of five or six weeks I'll grow very ill, and send 
 for Fordyce the Apothecary, and make him send me a 
 quantity of nasty draughts, which I'll throw out of the 
 Window. Only think how wicked I am, for in reality I'm 
 already as strong and as well as ever I was in my life . . . 
 O my dearest soul, I'v just received Two the dearest letters 
 in the World from you. How can I I cannot express my 
 feelings of gratitude and Love for you ; your dear heart is 
 so safe with me, and feels every motion mine does, with 
 you. How sweet those verses are you sent me ; they are 
 heavenly sweet because they were remarked by you. I 
 always liked Prior, but shall adore him because you like 
 him. Your dear little heart is flurried, too, on reading ye
 
 ' HOW WICKED I AM.' 105 
 
 dear letters ; it has both laught and cry'd with Joy. It lies 
 warm in my breast : I cherish it, and think of nothing else 
 but to preserve it safe there and happy. My dearest soul, 
 I send you ten thousand kisses ; I wish I could give them.' 
 
 My lady finishes this amorous epistle by abandoning the 
 colder English language for the more expressive French, 
 and bursts out : 
 
 ' Amons tout Jour Tendrement, mon adorable ammt, mon 
 ires chere ame.' 
 
 Besides meeting Lady Grosvenor at many places of 
 assignation in London, he followed her to Eaton Hall, and 
 took up his residence at one of the nearest public-houses, 
 that he might be near her. On these occasions he donned 
 a disguise which was afterwards described in the evidence as 
 consisting of ' a brownish wig which came low over his ears 
 and down upon his forehead, with a handkerchief round his 
 neck, a blue and white flannel waistcoat, and lightish drab 
 coat.' 
 
 The Duke was known, whilst here, as ' the squire,' and 
 was accompanied by two companions, one of whom was 
 called Farmer Tush, the other simply John, as became 
 one supposed to exercise the calling of a groom. It may 
 be added that all three were mistaken for highwaymen by 
 the mistress of the ' Toll House,' where they stayed, at 
 Marford Hill, and also by her attendants. This opinion 
 was likewise shared by those at the inn at Barnhill, which 
 the Duke and his friends honoured by their presence, and 
 was strengthened by the fact of one James Parker, servant 
 at the latter-mentioned house of entertainment for man and 
 beast, noticing that his disguised Royal Highness fell asleep 
 at his breakfast, from which the shrewd fellow argued he had 
 been awake all night. 
 
 At last my Lord Grosvenor's suspicions were, what the 
 newspapers call, awakened, and his brother, together with 
 John Stephens, Adjutant of the Cheshire Militia, were re-
 
 io6 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 quested to watch the lady's movements. This they did to 
 such good effect that the Duke and her Ladyship were dis- 
 covered at the ' White Hart Inn,' at St. Albans. A divorce 
 suit followed, and, notwithstanding that the Duke's not 
 over-wise counsel pleaded to the great amusement of the 
 court 'that, however aggravating the circumstances were 
 otherwise, they could not charge his Royal Highness with 
 intriguing merely for the sake of intrigue, as the incoherency 
 of his letters plainly proved him to be really a lover,' my 
 Lord Grosvenor was awarded the sum of ; 10,000 damages, 
 by way of healing the wounded honour of his house. This 
 was an amount which the Royal Duke found it inconvenient 
 to pay ; and eight months after the trial, the King writes to 
 the then Premier, Lord North : 
 
 1 My brothers have this day applied about the means of 
 paying the Duke of Cumberland's damages and costs, which, 
 if not payed this day se'nnight, the proctors will certainly 
 force the house ; which, at this licentious time, will occasion 
 reflections on the rest of the family. Whatever can be done, 
 ought to be done.' 
 
 But, alas for the faith of princes ! the divorce suit had 
 scarcely commenced, when the gallant Duke, tired of his 
 amour with his ' ever dearest little angel,' turned away from 
 her, and commenced a new intrigue; whilst the ex-countess, 
 some years afterwards, entered once more into the bonds of 
 holy matrimony with General George Porter, who was 
 Member of Parliament for Stockbridge. 
 
 The object of the Prince's fresh fancy was the wife of a 
 city merchant, an extremely handsome woman, with a con- 
 veniently placid spouse. Indeed, Horace Walpole says, ' it 
 was uncertain which was most proud of the honour, the 
 husband or the wife.' His Royal Highness accompanied the 
 lady to all places of public amusement, and showed her the 
 most gracious courtesy ; but quickly deserted her for Mrs. 
 Horton, at whose shrine he now offered his passionate
 
 CHARMING MRS. HORTON. 107 
 
 devotions. Mrs. Horton was the daughter of Lord Irnham, 
 who afterwards became Earl of Carhampton ; she had in 
 early life married a wealthy husband, whom death untimely 
 snatched from her. She was a lady of quality, worldly, 
 ambitious, and pretty, with large, languishing eyes that dealt 
 indiscriminate misery and happiness to her admirers, and 
 bewitching manners that exerted universal fascination. 
 Moreover, she was vastly accomplished; gave vent to wit 
 and sarcasm with equal ease, and preserved her virtue 
 intact. The result of the Duke's passion for her was that 
 he offered to make her his wife, an honour she unhesitatingly 
 accepted. They were, therefore, married at Mrs. Morton's 
 residence, in Hertford Street, Mayfair, on October 2, 1771. 
 
 The next day, the Duke went to the King with a letter in 
 his pocket, containing an avowal of his union, which he pre- 
 sented to His Majesty, after walking with him for some time 
 in the garden. The King quietly slipped it into his pocket, 
 saying : 
 
 ' I suppose I need not read it now ?' 
 
 'Yes, sir,' replied the Duke, 'you must read it directly.' 
 
 His Majesty then read it, and great was his royal wrath. 
 ' You fool ! You blockhead ! You villain !' he broke out ; 
 and then followed some words of advice which the world 
 would not call virtuous. Better, His Majesty inferred, that 
 the Duke should multiply his late experiences a thousand- 
 fold than have married a subject. 
 
 ' This woman,' he said, referring to the new-made Duchess, 
 ' can be nothing she never shall be anything.' 
 
 The Duke was frightened at this storm, and asked what 
 was His Gracious Majesty's royal will. 
 
 ' Go abroad,' said the King. 
 
 The Duke and his wife, therefore, immediately crossed to 
 Calais. 
 
 His Majesty's indignation was terrible, but was exceeded 
 by that of the Princess Dowager. The Duke's scandal with
 
 io8 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 Lady Grosvenor they could have forgiven, but a legal 
 marriage with a subject was an offence rank, indeed, in the 
 eyes of royalty, so much so that the Dowager declared she 
 would never see him again, and never did, though this erring 
 son waited on her a few days before her death. The King, 
 to mark his anger, had word sent him that he was not to 
 appear at Court. The Duke, happy in the thought that no 
 further measures would be taken against him, led a merry 
 life ; gave some balls in Calais ; travelled under a feigned 
 name through France and Flanders, and finally returned to 
 his London residence, Cumberland House. 
 
 His Majesty refused to see him, the guards were with- 
 drawn, the Lord Chamberlain intimated that whoever visited 
 the Duke or Duchess must not appear at Court, and the 
 same message was given to the Foreign Ministers. The 
 effect was that the bride and bridegroom found themselves 
 deserted except by the Duchess's family, and the ambitious 
 lady was, according to Horace Walpole, ' forced to bestow 
 her hand to be kissed by her menial servants.' They soon 
 retired to their residence in the Great Park at Windsor, and 
 afterwards passed some years on the Continent A little 
 later on, this weak and licentious man used the cruellest 
 possible means of revenging himself on the King for the 
 indignities shown him, due record of which will be made. 
 
 So mortified was His Majesty by the marriages of his 
 brothers to commoners that he resolved to prevent such an 
 occurrence from taking place again in his family. He there- 
 fore speedily framed a message, which was delivered to both 
 Houses of Parliament, informing them that, ' being desirous, 
 from paternal affection to his own family, and anxious con- 
 cern for the future welfare of his people, and the honour and 
 dignity of his Crown, that the right of approving all marriages 
 in the Royal Family (which ever has belonged to the kings 
 of this realm as a matter of public concern) may be made 
 effectual, recommends to both Houses of Parliament to take
 
 A ROYAL MARRIAGE BILL. 109 
 
 into their serious consideration whether it may not be wise 
 and expedient to supply the defect of the laws now in being, 
 and, by some new provision, more effectually to guard the 
 descendants of his late Majesty King George II. (other 
 than the issue of princesses who have married or may here- 
 after marry into foreign families) from marrying without the 
 approbation of His Majesty, his heirs and successors, first 
 had and obtained.' 
 
 Walpole says that the message was 'received with the 
 utmost coldness and disgust by both Houses. It not only 
 set out with a falsehood (the assertion of the King's power 
 over such marriages), but contradicted itself by devising a 
 remedy for the very deficiency of that power.' However, a 
 marriage bill drawn up in accordance to the desire of the 
 arbitrary royal message by Lord Mansfield, though power- 
 fully attacked by Charles James Fox, Burke, and Wedder- 
 burn, passed on April i, 1772. 
 
 Meanwhile the King's domestic life glided placidly by ; 
 it was only when dressed in the trappings of royalty that 
 he assumed the regal character, which never sat easily on 
 his shoulders, just as some poor player in velvet garb and 
 tinsel crown, struts with an air majestic for a couple of hours 
 before the footlights. When the affairs of state were laid 
 aside, no one could be more simple in manners, more dull 
 and decorous in habits, more exemplary as a husband and a 
 father. Between the years 1762 and 1783, fifteen children 
 were born to the royal pair, and Kew House was selected 
 as the nursery for this too prolific progeny. Here the King 
 and Queen led a life new to monarchs, the simple details of 
 which are given in many memoirs of the day. 
 
 At six in the morning their Majesties rose, read, or walked 
 about the grounds, sat down to breakfast at eight with the 
 eldest of the children, at nine all the progeny were brought 
 into the room for general inspection, when the elder members 
 were sent to their daily tasks, and the younger to play in the
 
 no COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 gardens. Occasionally the King and Queen, attended by 
 such of the family as were able to walk, marched two and 
 two round the grounds in solemn and stately procession, 
 after which the royal parents saw the little ones dine. Their 
 Majesties' own dinner was of the plainest, the King living 
 principally on vegetables, the Queen confining herself to a 
 couple of dishes, both of them drinking but little wine. 
 When a levee or council was to be held, the King rode into 
 town on horseback, and returned as quickly as possible 
 from the cares of state to the joys of domesticity. In the 
 evenings he read selections from sermons or theological 
 works to his consort, which Her Sacred Majesty listened to 
 with reverent complacency, as she knitted or sewed, and 
 took huge pinches of snuff; then the gay pair said their 
 prayers and went to bed betimes, and so the day was done. 
 One of the wicked wags who lived and made ballads at 
 this time celebrates the domestic felicity of their right 
 homely and sacred Majesties in these verses 
 
 ' Caesar the mighty King who sway'd 
 The sceptre, was a sober blade ; 
 A leg of mutton and his wife 
 Were the chief comforts of his life. 
 
 ' The Queen, compos'd of different stuf/j 
 Above all things ador'd her snuff, 
 Save gold, which, in her great opinion, 
 Alone could rival snuff's dominion.' 
 
 At Kew the King was enabled to indulge his harmless 
 craze for agriculture, which now exceeded his recent passion 
 for the making of buttons ; a species of regal industry and 
 mechanism which filled the breast of his consort and the 
 royai household with inexpressible wonder and admiration. 
 ' Farmer George,' as he was called, superintended the 
 tilling and sowing of his acres, and sent their produce into 
 market with a careful eye to remuneration. At an early
 
 FARMER, GEORGE. ill 
 
 stage of their lives, he had trained his two eldest sons to till 
 a small plot of land, and sow it with corn, which in good 
 time they reaped, thrashed, saw ground to flour, and made 
 into bread. 
 
 The second son, Frederick, created, after the death of his 
 uncle, Duke of York, was, when six months old, made 
 Bishop of Osnaburgh. The bishopric, which was a secular 
 dignity with an ecclesiastical designation, had been held 
 open for three years, in order that it might be bestowed on 
 one of the King's sons. The revenue which this juvenile 
 ' Right Reverend Father in God,' as he was styled by an 
 ordained and foolish sycophant who dedicated a book to 
 him, derived from his office was .2,000 a year until he 
 arrived at the age of eighteen, when, his minorship being at 
 an end, the amount of .25,000 per annum would become 
 his by right divine. 
 
 At an early age, the Prince of Wales and the Bishop 
 were taken from the nuisery and placed under the charge 
 of Lord Holderness, as governor; the Rev. Dr. Markham, 
 head-master of Westminster School, as preceptor ; and Cyril 
 Jackson as sub-preceptor. Moreover, a royal chaplain was 
 thrown in with the list, whose duty it was to read prayers to 
 the Princes daily, and now their education commenced 
 Dr. Markham had, previous to undertaking his charge, 
 asked His Majesty how he wished to have the future heir to 
 the Crown treated, when the King made answer, ' Like the 
 son of any private English gentleman ; if he deserves it, 
 let him be flogged, just as you used to do at Westminster.' 
 The learned doctor, who had strong faith in the efficacy of 
 corporeal punishment, smiled and bowed ; and the privilege 
 accorded him was freely made use of, as the royal back of 
 his pupil could testify ; for the Prince, even at the mature 
 age of ten years, was not easily governed. 
 
 Their Royal Highnesses indeed became so refractory, 
 that the governor and preceptors quickly resigned their posts.
 
 112 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 This Prince of Wales would, brook no authority, whilst the 
 young scapegrace, the Bishop of Osnaburgh, ridiculed poor 
 Lord Holderness to his face. In their places, the Duke of 
 Montague, Bishop Hurd, and Mr. Arnold were named 
 governor, preceptor, and sub-preceptor; but under this 
 goodly trio matters seemed to make small improvement 
 Dr. Hurd, a pliant, easy-going man, who, ' though a scholar, 
 was only a servile pedant, ignorant of mankind,' as Horace 
 Walpole says, was inclined to let his pupils follow their own 
 wills, and, so long as he continued in this frame of mind, 
 his charge was not troublesome ; but once, when he strove 
 to imitate the discipline of Dr. Markham of flogging 
 memory, the Princes rebelled, tore the rod from his right 
 reverend hand, and laid the lash upon his episcopal back 
 with hearty good-will. 
 
 His Majesty was shocked and grieved that his olive- 
 branches had turned out firebrands. The traits of character 
 they displayed thus early in life made him fearful of the 
 future ; and, as years went by, the conduct of the Princes 
 was not calculated to lessen his fears. The strictest watch 
 was kept upon them, even when they reached the years of 
 manhood ; newspapers were forbidden them ; they were 
 allowed no communication with youths of their own age ; 
 they were seldom set free even for a few hours from their 
 household confinement, and spies were set to watch them. 
 The result of this system was, as Horace Walpole states in 
 his last journals, that, ' as soon as the King went to bed, the 
 Prince and his brother, Prince Frederick, went to their 
 mistresses.' It is further mentioned in the same page that 
 the heir to the Crown, ' restricted from the society of women, 
 had contracted a habit of private drinking,' one result of 
 which was a humour that showed itself in blotches all over 
 his face. ' Such,' says the author, ' were the fruits of his 
 being locked up in this palace of piety.' 
 
 When he arrived at the ripe age of eighteen, the Prince
 
 MARY ROEItfSOWS DEBUT. 113 
 
 contracted his first liaison, the object of his love being 
 charming Mary Robinson, famous alike for her beauty and 
 talent. Mrs. Robinson was the daughter of respectable 
 parents, and had been educated by the famous Hannah 
 More- When only fifteen, she married an adventurer who 
 passed himself off as the heir to large estates in South 
 Wales, but who quickly proved himself to be a heartless 
 scoundrel and confirmed profligate. Reduced by his ex- 
 travagance to a dependent condition, with but a future 
 prospect of debt and difficulties before her, she resolved to 
 try her success as an actress, and mentioned her design to 
 Brereton, a friend of hers, who was one of the employes at 
 Drury Lane play-house. Brereton introduced her to Richard 
 Brinsley Sheridan, who had just then purchased a share in 
 the famous theatre. The author of ' The School for Scandal ' 
 in turn spoke of her to Garrick, then just retired from the 
 stage, but who, on recognising the dawning talents of fair 
 Mary Robinson, undertook to become her tutor and prepare 
 her for the theatrical profession. After considerable trials 
 and many rehearsals, it was finally decided that she should 
 make her first bow to the public as Juliet. In her interest- 
 ing memoirs, she has left a brief description of her premier 
 appearance. 
 
 ' The theatre,' she writes, ' was crowded with fashionable 
 spectators; the green-room and orchestra (where Mr. 
 Garrick sat during the night) were thronged with critics. 
 My dress was a pale pink satin, trimmed with crape, 
 richly spangled with silver ; my head was ornamented with 
 white feathers, and my monumental suit, for the last scene, 
 was white satin and completely plain, except that I wore 
 a veil of the most transparent gauze, which fell quite to my 
 feet from the back of my head, and a string of beads 
 round my waist, to which was suspended a cross appro- 
 priately fashioned. When I approached the side wing, my 
 heart throbbed convulsively; I then began to fear my 
 
 ** 8
 
 114 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 resolution would fail, and I leaned upon the nurse's arm 
 almost fainting. Mr. Sheridan and several other friends 
 encouraged me to proceed, and at length, with trembling 
 limbs and fearful apprehension, I approached the audience.' 
 
 Her personation of the love-sick Juliet was a vast success ; 
 she had already published some volumes of very pretty 
 verse, and she now appeared on the stage under the dis- 
 tinguished patronage of the brilliant Duchess of Devonshire 
 and David Garrick. Accordingly, she soon became the 
 fashion, and her society was sought after by ' ladies of 
 quality ' and men of all degrees. 
 
 ' Were I to mention the names of those who held forth 
 the temptations of fortune at this moment of public peril, I 
 might create some reproaches in many families of the 
 fashionable world,' she writes. ' Among others who offered 
 most liberally to purchase my indiscretion was the late 
 Duke of Rutland ; a settlement of six hundred pounds per 
 annum was proposed as the means of estranging me entirely 
 from my husband. I refused the offer. I had still the 
 consolation of an unsullied name.' 
 
 She was in her twenty-third year when the Prince ot 
 Wales first saw her at Drury Lane ; on which occasion she 
 personated Perdita in 'The Winter's Tale.' The play had 
 been selected by their Gracious Majesties, and the royal 
 family had come to witness the performance. Speaking of 
 this hour, which was so fateful to her, Mary Robinson 
 says : 
 
 ' As I stood in the wing opposite the Prince's box, waiting 
 to go on the stage, Mr. Ford, the manager's son, and now a 
 respectable defender of the laws, presented a friend who 
 accompanied him ; this friend was Lord Viscount Maiden, 
 now Earl of Essex. We entered into conversation during a 
 few minutes, the Prince of Wales all the time observing us, 
 and frequently speaking to Colonel Lake and to the Hon. 
 Mr. Legge, who was waiting on His Ruyal Highness. I
 
 PERDITA BLUSHES. 115 
 
 hurried through the first scene, not without much em- 
 barrassment, owing to the fixed attention with which the 
 Prince of Wales honoured me. Indeed, some flattering 
 remarks which were made by His Royal Highness met my 
 ear as I stood near his box, and I was overwhelmed with 
 confusion. 
 
 ' The Prince's particular attention was observed by every- 
 one. On the last curtsey, the royal family condescendingly 
 returned a bow to the performers ; but, just as the curtain 
 was falling, my eyes met those of the Prince of Wales, and, 
 with a look that / never shall forget, he gently inclined his 
 head a second time. I felt the compliment, and blushed 
 my gratitude.' 
 
 The Prince was at this time handsome, well-made, and 
 graceful in appearance ; he has been described as ' one 
 whose manners were resistless, and whose smile was 
 victory.' He was evidently fascinated by the beautiful 
 Perdita, and showed that he was no laggard in love. A 
 couple of days afterwards Lord Essex waited on the lady, 
 and presented her with a note expressive of ardent admira- 
 tion, written by the royal hand, and signed ' Florizel,' to 
 which the lady duly replied. This was followed by a 
 correspondence amorous and confidential. Perdita, who 
 had rejected the addresses of a Duke, was yet but a woman, 
 and received the avowed adoration of a Prince. Before he 
 had spoken a word to her, the heir to the realm sent the 
 actress his portrait set in a case, within which she discovered 
 a small heart (truly emblematic in size of his who had sent 
 it), on one side of which was written, l je ne change qiien 
 mourant .' on the other, in plain English, 'Unalterable to 
 my Perdita through life.' 
 
 It now became the Prince's anxiety to arrange a meeting 
 with this siren ; but, on account of the strict watch placed 
 on all his movements, this was by no means easy to 
 accomplish. Once he proposed that she should visit him 
 
 82
 
 ii6 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 in his apartments disguised in male attire ; but this she 
 declined, on account of the danger of detection, and a 
 mutual visit to Lord Essex's house was likewise objected to 
 on the same grounds. At last it was determined they 
 should meet at Kew, and the assignation was not devoid of 
 some of the chief elements of romance ; it took place by 
 moonlight, and was attended by some danger of discovery. 
 Perdita and Lord Essex waited one summer evening on the 
 island between Kew and Brentford until a signal was given 
 them by the Prince to cross over in a boat to the banks ot 
 the Thames, near the palace, where he was to receive them. 
 Perdita declared that heaven could witness how many con- 
 flicts her agitated heart endured at that moment At last a 
 white handkerchief was seen to flutter in the dusky light of 
 evening, and in a few minutes the trembling fair one and 
 her conductor stood before the dark gates of old Kew 
 Palace, where the Prince and his brother Frederick 
 awaited them wrapped in great-coats, in order to disguise 
 themselves. 
 
 The hour long sought and hoped for had come at last ; 
 the lovers met, but, alas ! for but too brief a time ; for, 
 scarcely had they exchanged a few words expressive of their 
 mutual delight, when a sudden noise of people approaching 
 from the palace startled them all, and, after a few more 
 phrases ' of an affectionate nature,' the royal youth hurried 
 away, lest it should be discovered he was out at so late an 
 hour. This was their first meeting, the memory of which 
 remained fresh in the fair Perdita's heart long years after- 
 wards. 
 
 'The graces of his person, the irresistible sweetness of 
 his smile, the tenderness of his melodious, yet manly voice,' 
 says the infatuated young woman, ' will be remembered by 
 me till every vision of this changing scene shall be for 
 gotten.' 
 
 Other meetings quickly followed. Perdita ieft the stage,
 
 DISCARDED PERDITA. 117 
 
 and became the acknowledged mistress of the heir-ap- 
 parent, who gave her a bond, promising to pay her the sum 
 of twenty thousand pounds when he came of age. Perdita, 
 as she was now called, became the fashion ; her carriage, 
 as we learn from a paragraph devoted to details of 
 London life in the Ramblers' Magazine, was the admiration 
 of the town. ' The body is of carmelite and silver, orna- 
 mented with a French mantle, and the cypher in a wreath 
 of flowers ; the carriage scarlet and silver, the seat-cloth 
 richly ornamented with silver fringe. Mrs. Robinson's 
 livery is green faced with yellow, and richly trimmed with 
 broad silver lace, the harness ornamented with stars of 
 silver richly chased and elegantly finished. The inside of 
 the carriage is lined with white silk, embellished with 
 scarlet trimmings.' Perdita was luxurious. 
 
 When she went shopping or drove in the Park, she was 
 surrounded by admiring crowds, and attended by worship- 
 ping gallants, whilst her poems were eagerly bought and 
 read, and her pictures displayed in the windows of the print- 
 shops. She was universally praised for her beauty, her 
 talents, and her gifts, and her reign was right merry, though 
 short. Long before the Prince came of age, he paid his 
 devotions at the shrines of new goddesses, and his affec- 
 tion had become cold towards the fair Perdita, to whom he 
 had promised eternal love and twenty thousand pounds. 
 By degrees he deserted her in right princely fashion, when 
 she appealed to him with tears and prayers not to forsake 
 her. But these were all in vain ; he would not even grant 
 her an interview, until at last, afraid of her vehemence, 
 he consented, when, to her great surprise, he appeared un- 
 changed, and he repeatedly assured her he had never for 
 a moment ceased to love her ; only the next day, when she 
 encountered His Royal Highness in Hyde Park, he passed 
 her without the faintest recognition. Nor was this all : when 
 she in due time presented her bond, he refused to pay it.
 
 Ii8 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 Though she had quitted her profession at his suggestion, he 
 was quite unwilling to make her any compensation, and, 
 when the matter came to the ears of the King, his virtuous 
 Majesty agreed with the Prince's decision, and writes to 
 Lord North that His Royal Highness sent Perdita ' letters 
 and very foolish promises, which undoubtedly, by her con- 
 duct, she has cancelled.' A compromise was finally arrived 
 at between the Prince and the actress, when his letters were 
 bought for the sum of ^5>ooo, and an annuity of ^500 
 settled on her during life. 
 
 With this sum, Perdita went to Paris, where her fame had 
 already preceded her, and where she was known as La Belle 
 Anglaise ; here she gained the notice of the ill-fated Marie 
 Antoinette, who presented her with a purse worked by the 
 hand of that daughter of the Caesars. She afterwards re- 
 turned to England, and devoted her talents to literature, 
 which she, however, in common with others before and 
 since, held as ' a destroying labour.' She gave the world 
 several poems, whose very names, ' To a Swan,' ' Pity's 
 Tear,' ' On a Kiss,' etc., will guarantee for their sentiment ; 
 wrote a tragedy, 'The Sicilian Lover,' and a couple of 
 novels, 'Hubert de Sevrac,' and 'Vancenza; or, The Danger 
 of Credulity,' all of which were more or less successful; 
 later on, she undertook wonderful to be told of those days 
 the poetical department of the Morning Post, and lived to 
 the unromantic age of forty-three. 
 
 It was at this period of the social history of the Court 
 that the Duke and Duchess of Cumberland came promi- 
 nently forward once more. Her Grace had not been 
 admitted to the royal drawing-rooms, and was ignored by 
 her kingly brother-in-law, who, though he permitted the 
 Duke to hold levees, forbade those who held any office at 
 Court to attend the Duchess's assemblies. Her Grace, who 
 was, however, a woman, of the world, at once clever and 
 wily, prepared to wage battle with royalty for her position,
 
 THE DUCHESS STOOPS TO CONQUER. 119 
 
 and to revenge herself on their Majesties when opportunity 
 offered. This was not long in presenting itself in the person 
 of the young Prince of Wales, then commencing a career of 
 infamy, and of hostility to the King, which promised to 
 become as vigorous as that which had notoriously distin- 
 guished the heirs to the throne of the first and second 
 monarchs of his line. 
 
 The Duke of Cumberland, who resented what he regarded 
 as the insults of the Court to his wife ; who was dissatisfied 
 with the King's treatment of himself ; and who was, more- 
 over, swayed by his spouse, readily agreed in using the 
 Prince of Wales as a tool with which to punish His Majesty. 
 Accordingly, the Duke professed a strong affection for his 
 nephew, whom he familiarly designated Taffy, which a simi- 
 larity in their dispositions soon cemented. Under the able 
 guidance of the Duke, the Prince was led into scenes of the 
 most degrading vice, introduced to money-lenders, taught to 
 drink and gamble, and encouraged in his opposition to the 
 King. His Majesty was indignant at this conduct, and 
 complained to the Duke of Gloucester that his brother of 
 Cumberland ' comes to the Queen's house fourteen times a 
 week to my son the Prince, and passes by my door, but 
 never comes in to me, and, if he meets me there, he only 
 pulls off his hat and walks away.' 
 
 Meanwhile, the Duchess of Cumberland resolved to hold 
 periodical drawing-rooms, but, fearing they might be de- 
 serted, as they had been shortly after her marriage, she had 
 determined to court popularity; she therefore stooped to 
 conquer. My Lord Shelburne being opportunely ill, she 
 must call on my Lady to express her deep sympathies, and, 
 having heard that Devonshire House had been re-furnished, 
 she expressed to her Grace of Devonshire a strong desire to 
 inspect it, and became enraptured with the exquisite taste 
 displayed. Moreover, she called on the Duchess of Marl- 
 borough, invited herself to Lady Salisbury's house at Hatfield,
 
 120 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS, 
 
 returned the visits of Duchesses and Countesses paid her, 
 would not suffer her hand to be kissed, and finally went to 
 general assemblies. When this course had gained her suffi- 
 cient popularity, she opened her drawing-rooms, which now 
 became crowded. 
 
 Elated by so much success, the Duchess resolved on 
 giving a ball on a magnificent scale to the Prince of Wales, 
 but the King, strictly forbidding anyone connected with the 
 Court to attend, this entertainment was changed to a dinner 
 for the Prince's gentlemen and household. Alas ! once 
 more the royal mandate went forth prohibiting all good 
 courtiers from sitting down to this feast, when the Duke 
 became exasperated, and wrote his royal brother a wrathful 
 letter, in which he declared that England was a country not 
 fit for a gentleman to live in, and that he should go abroad. 
 But this was merely a threat ; the Duke stayed at home, 
 and even went to the royal drawing-room, for if he absented 
 himself, the Duchess sagaciously said, he might lose his 
 influence over the Prince. 
 
 There was little fear, however, of such a possibility ; the 
 heir-apparent and his worthless uncle became faster friends 
 than before. The Duke established a faro bank at Cum- 
 berland House, that the Prince might have a convenient 
 opportunity of gambling, and, in consort with the Duchess, 
 openly favoured His Royal Highness's new amour for Mrs. 
 Armstead, afterwards the mistress and wife of Charles James 
 Fox. 
 
 Whilst yet in his minority, the Prince steadily pursued a 
 course of vulgar vice and degradation which the King seemed 
 powerless to check. Speaking of him in May, 1781, Horace 
 Walpole says, in his last journals : 
 
 ' The conduct of the Prince of Wales began already to 
 make the greatest noise, and proved how very bad his 
 education had been, or rather, that he had had little or none, 
 but had only been locked up and suffered to keep company
 
 A ROYAL CAROUSAL. 121 
 
 with the lowest domestics ; while the Duke of Montague 
 and Kurd, Bishop of Lichfield, had thought of nothing but 
 paying Court to the King and Queen and her German 
 women. The Prince drank more publicly in the drawing- 
 room, and talked there irreligiously and indecently in the 
 openest manner (both which were the style of the Duchess 
 of Cumberland). He passed the nights in the lowest 
 debaucheries, at the same time bragging of intrigues with 
 women of quality, whom he named publicly. Both the 
 Prince and the Duke talked of the King in the grossest 
 terms even in his hearing, as he told the Duke of Gloucester, 
 who asked him why he did not forbid his son seeing his 
 brother. The King replied that he feared his son would 
 not obey him. The Duke of Cumberland dropped that he 
 meant by this outrageous behaviour to force the King to 
 yield to terms in favour of his Duchess, having gotten entire 
 command over the Prince.' The King likewise complained 
 that, when he hunted, ' neither my son nor my brother 
 speak to me ; and lately, when the chase ended at a little 
 village where there was but a single post-chaise to be hired, 
 my son and brother got into it and drove to London, leav- 
 ing me to go home in a cart, if I could find one.' ' His 
 Majesty added,' Walpole continues, ' that when at Windsor, 
 where he always dines at three, and in town at four, if he 
 asked the Prince to dine with him, he always came at four 
 at Windsor, and in town at five, and all the servants saw 
 the father waiting an hour for the son ; that, since the 
 Court was come to town, the Duke of Cumberland carried 
 the Prince to the lowest places of debauchery, where they 
 got dead drunk, and were often carried home in that con- 
 dition.' 
 
 About this time, a royal carousal was held, a rumour of 
 which got whispered about from drawing-room to club-room, 
 until it was at last celebrated in verse in one of the public 
 papers. It happened that one night, when the King had
 
 122 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 gone to bed, the Prince as usual stole out of Buckingham 
 House, and, joined by his besotted uncle the Duke of 
 Cumberland, and several boon companions, amongst whom 
 were Charles Windham, St. Leger, and George Pitt, they 
 immediately set out for Blackheath to sup with my Lord 
 Chesterfie'd. This was the successor to the politest courtier 
 and ugliest man of George II. 's reign ; the wit and mimic 
 who had amused and plagued Queen Caroline and her 
 merry maids. The present Lord had some of the humour, 
 but none of the elegant courtesy, of the late Earl, and had, 
 moreover, the unpleasant reputation of having brought his 
 tutor, Dr. Dodd, to justice and the scaffold, because the 
 reverend man had forged his Lordship's name. However, 
 he was one of the boon companions of the future King, and 
 regarded by that august personage as one of his selected 
 guides, philosophers, and friends. 
 
 Lord Chesterfield, though anxious to please his royal 
 guest, refused, as a married man, to invite the company 
 which the Prince very much desired ; but this drawback to 
 the amusement of the hour was speedily forgotten in the 
 pleasures derived from the wine-bottle, and in a little while 
 the whole of that goodly company were drunk. The Prince 
 had filled his glass more frequently than his companions, 
 and was at an early stage of the night's revelry conducted 
 to his couch, whilst his friends continued to make merry. 
 Suddenly one of them bethought him of drinking a toast 
 which he had no doubt would be popular with his confreres, 
 and, with glass in hand, rose up and proposed, 1 A short 
 reign to the King? The Prince had by this time sufficiently 
 recovered to understand the purport of the words, and 
 some sense of shame and remorse appealing to his con- 
 fused senses, he roused himself, staggered to the table, and, 
 filling a bumper, gave and drank the toast, ' Long live the 
 King: 
 
 But this little contretemps was not allowed to interrupt the
 
 THE PRINCE ENJOYS HIMSELF. 123 
 
 general harmony of the night, and presently one of the 
 select company suggested that they should have a man- 
 and-beast fight, which met with unanimous approval. My 
 Lord Chesterfield was known to keep a fierce bulldog, and 
 George Pitt, a muscular Christian with the reputation of a 
 prize-fighter, declared he would tear the animal's tongue 
 from its roots. The Prince and his friends were delighted 
 at the prospect of such sport ; the dog was accordingly let 
 loose, and George Pitt strove in the royal presence to put 
 his brutal boast into practice ; but the animal, escaping from 
 him in an agony, rushed at Charles Windham, whom he bit, 
 and then at a servant's leg, which he tore and mangled. 
 By the time this pastime ended, it was early morning; 
 the Prince remembered he must get back, and my Lord 
 Chesterfield insisted on lighting his guest to the door; 
 but, alas, so drunk was the descendant of the polite letter- 
 writer, that he mistook his way, and fell with a crash into 
 the area, when it was thought his wit had gone out for 
 ever. He was, however, spared to get drunk another day. 
 
 About this time the heir to the throne became acquainted 
 with Charles James Fox, the second son of Henry Fox, first 
 Lord Holland, one of the most distinguished, clever, and 
 dissipated men of the day. 
 
 The favourite son of the statesman, he had been brought 
 up in the most luxurious fashion, and treated with the most 
 extravagant indulgence ; and, whilst an Eton schoolboy yet 
 under the age of fourteen, had been taken to Paris and Spa, 
 where he first acquired that taste for gambling which ulti- 
 mately became the bane of his life. Clever, handsome, and 
 winning even as a lad, he gave promise of those brilliant 
 attainments and powers of personal fascination which marked 
 his early manhood and ripened with his later years. 
 
 Leaving Oxford whilst yet in his teens, with a thorough 
 knowledge of classics, and a familiar acquaintance with the 
 literature of his own country, he, in company with Lord
 
 124 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 Carlisle, made the grand tour, and gained a polish which 
 ever afterwards distinguished his manner, and a knowledge 
 of the world such as is seldom attained by one of his years. 
 Whilst yet abroad, he was, through his father's interest, 
 elected as representative for Midhurst; this was in May, 
 1768, when he was in his nineteenth year. He returned to 
 England in the following November a finished gentleman of 
 the first water, a man with a future. His name, as the son 
 of an ex-Cabinet Minister, had been a sufficient passport to 
 the highest circles abroad, and the liberal allowance made 
 him by his father had enabled him to maintain an extrava- 
 gance of which eight servants was not the least item. He 
 had mixed with the most accomplished society of which 
 Europe could boast, had been graciously received at Courts, 
 entertained by ambassadors, had played the fop at Turin, 
 had gambled at Naples, had experienced the dissipations of 
 Paris, 
 
 ' Saw every Court, heard every King declare 
 His royal sense of operas or the fair,' 
 
 had conversed with Voltaire at Ferney, and had received 
 from the lips of the venerable cynic a list of his works such 
 as would 'fortify him against religious prejudices.' After 
 this interview, the French philosopher wrote to Lord Hol- 
 land, ' Yr son is an English lad and j an old frenchman. 
 He is healthy and j am sick. Yet j love him with all my 
 heart, not only for his father, but for him self.' 
 
 Fox was not, however, spoiled by his experiences abroad ; 
 true, he for some time after his return to England wore the 
 dress of a fop, but at heart ' he was a man made to be 
 loved,' as Burke said, and his polished courtesy, scholarly 
 lore, love of wit, reckless folly, unassuming manners, and 
 genuine good-humour, gained him friends whose names were 
 legion.
 
 CHARLES FOX. 125 
 
 On account of his minority, he was unable to vote in the 
 House of Commons, but, shortly after taking his seat, he 
 spoke with great fluency in support of the expulsion of 
 Wilkes. In the second year of his parliamentary career, he 
 was made a Junior Lord of the Admiralty, an office he re- 
 signed two years later on account of his opposition to the 
 Royal Marriage Bill, which first caused him to be regarded 
 by the King with a dislike that afterwards deepened to 
 hatred. He was soon after appointed one of the Lords of 
 the Treasury, but was dismissed by the Premier, Lord North, 
 whom he had defeated on a division. The political eminence 
 he thus early acquired was fully equalled by the social dis- 
 tinction he gained ; he was the friend of the beautiful 
 Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire, the companion of the 
 distinguished Lord Carlisle, the intimate of that most ex- 
 cellent wit, George Selwyn ; he was a member of Brooke's, 
 White's, and Arthur's clubs, was sought after for his con- 
 viviality, copied in the cut of his coat, and flattered and 
 loved by the most frail, brilliant, and pleasure-loving society 
 of the period. 
 
 This was the man with whom the Prince of Wales was 
 anxious to become acquainted, and with whom he shared 
 many characteristics in common. The heir to the throne 
 at this time bade fair to become popular ; nor was this feel- 
 ing towards him in the least prejudiced by the vices he 
 exhibited in an age of general depravity. He possessed a 
 certain grace seldom dissociated from youth ; in his manner 
 he betrayed an easy dignity, in his address an acquired 
 polish, and in his character an appearance of generosity 
 and open liberality which exerted a fascination over all 
 those who approached him. In person he was remarkably 
 well-made and handsome ; he could boast of an education 
 unusual in Princes, and his amours exhibited a gallantry 
 which came as a relief to the disgusting coarseness that had 
 distinguished those of his immediate ancestors, Moreover,
 
 126 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS 
 
 he appreciated wit, loved good-fellowship, could make a 
 pretty speech, return a compliment with exceeding suavity, 
 and had a talent for acquiring friends. 
 
 His acquaintance with Charles James Fox rapidly led to 
 a friendship which in turn soon glided into familiarity. 
 His Royal Highness addresses the young statesman as his 
 ' dear Charles ' at a very early stage of their intimacy, and 
 dined with him at his rooms in St. James's Street, where 
 they both drank royally. Later on, but before the Prince 
 had attained his majority, Horace Walpole speaks of him 
 as having 'thrown himself into the arms of Charles Fox, 
 and this in the most indecent and undisguised manner. 
 Fox lodged in St. James's Street, and as soon as he rose, 
 which was very late, had a levee of his followers, and of the 
 members of the Gaming Club at Brookes', all his disciples. 
 His bristly black person, rarely purified by any ablutions, 
 was wrapped in a foul linen night-gown, and his bushy hair 
 dishevelled. In these cynic weeds, and with epicurean good- 
 humour, did he dictate his politics and in this school did 
 the heir of the Crown attend his lessons and imbibe them. 
 Fox's followers, on whom he had never enjoined Pythagorean 
 silence, were strangely licentious in their conversation about 
 the King. At Brookes' they proposed wagers on the 
 duration of his reign ; and if they moderated their irreverent 
 jests in the presence of the Prince, it was not extraordinary 
 that the orgies at Brookes' might be reported to have 
 passed at Fox's levees, or that the King should suspect that 
 the same disloyal topics should be handled in the morning 
 that he knew had been the themes of each preceding 
 evening.' 
 
 His Majesty, therefore, looked upon the friendship be- 
 tween the Prince and Fox with fear and displeasure, feelings 
 which troubled His Royal Highness but little ; for he found 
 Charles Fox as a friend to be one of the most delightful 
 men in the kingdom, and as a politician he trusted he
 
 THE PRINCE S FRIEND. 127 
 
 might prove one of the most useful to him in the 
 Commons. 
 
 Early in 1783, Charles Fox came into power as one of 
 the Secretaries of State in the new Government of which 
 the Duke of Portland was First Lord of the Treasury, and 
 in the August of the same year the Prince of Wales would 
 attain his majority, when a revenue and settlement would be 
 duly provided for him. The Prince looked forward with 
 great expectations to the time when he should be free from 
 all paternal control, and placed his faith and hope in Fox, 
 that by his exertions he might be able to enjoy an income 
 which would in no way curtail his Princely pleasures. 
 Nor were these hopes misplaced. The new Ministry, at 
 the instigation of Fox, proposed to allow His Royal High- 
 ness ;ioo,ooo a year, a sum just double that enjoyed by 
 the last Prince of Wales long after he had a wife and 
 children. 
 
 At this announcement the King was surprised and dis- 
 pleased ; taking into consideration the heavy financial em- 
 barrassments under which the country then laboured, he 
 declared ,50,000 was a sufficient allowance for the Prince. 
 On account of this disagreement, His Royal Highness 
 ' had a fever with vexation,' and the Ministry was on the 
 point of resigning, when Charles Fox went to his royal 
 friend and begged of him to submit himself entirely to the 
 King; which advice the Prince had sufficient sense to 
 follow. No grant was therefore demanded from Parlia- 
 ment ; the King, out of his own income, made the Prince 
 an allowance of ,50,000 a year, with the revenue of the 
 Duchy of Cornwall, which amounted to .12,000 per 
 annum. Parliament, however, gave .30,000 to pay the 
 Prince's debts, and the same sum for the expenses of his 
 new establishment. 
 
 The Prince now moved to Carlton House, which had not 
 been occupied since the death of his grandmother, the well-
 
 128 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 abused Princess of Wales. The King's second and favourite 
 son, Edward, Bishop of Osnaburgh, had a few months pre- 
 viously been created Duke of York and Albany, and had 
 received command of the Coldstream Guards. He was now 
 sent out of the country to a German university, in order 
 that he might be free from the example and influence of the 
 heir to the throne ; for a similar reason His Majesty's third 
 son, William Henry, was sent into the navy. 
 
 Having had his debts paid, and being now lord of him- 
 self, the recipient of a settled income, and master of a 
 separate establishment which numbered his chosen friends, 
 the Prince of Wales made Carlton House the central point 
 of attraction, the scene of unchecked dissipation, and the 
 general rallying-place for the Ministry, which was bitterly 
 detested by the King. This Cabinet against which the royal 
 wrath was directed was not destined to survive long. In 
 this year, Fox introduced the famous Indian Bill, which 
 passed through its various stages in the Commons by large 
 majorities, but, meeting with the direct opposition of His 
 Majesty, who declared he would consider those peers who 
 voted for it as his enemies, it was rejected in the Upper 
 House by a majority of nineteen. 
 
 This proved fatal to the Ministry, for, on the very even- 
 ing of the day on which it had been thrown out, the King, 
 glad of this opportunity of ridding himself of Ministers 
 whom he hated, sent messages to Lord North and Charles 
 Fox, stating he had no longer any necessity for their ser- 
 vices, and requiring them to deliver up their seals of office 
 as Secretaries of State. A new Cabinet was therefore formed, 
 with Pitt as Premier, which had to contend with an Opposi 
 tion, headed by Fox, more formidable in numerical force, 
 as well as brilliant talent, than any which had appeared in 
 Parliament since the days of Charles I. Pitt and his 
 Cabinet were favoured by the King, Fox and his partisans by 
 the Prince of Wales ; and this feud between His Majesty and
 
 FOX ' S DETERMINATION. 129 
 
 the heir to the Crown was widened by circumstances which 
 quickly followed. 
 
 As supporters in the House of Lords, Fox could number 
 the Dukes of Devonshire, Portland, Norfolk, Bedford, and 
 Northumberland ; the Earls of Derby, Cholmondeley, and 
 Fitzwilliam ; and Lords St. John, Ponsonby, Craven, and 
 Southampton; whilst in the Lower House his party em- 
 braced some of the most influential commoners in the 
 nation. 
 
 He was therefore determined that the Pitt Ministry 
 should not stand, and, at an early sitting of the new 
 Parliament, a motion was carried, declaring the new 
 Ministers incompetent to conduct public business. The 
 Premier, however, bore the sentence of condemnation 
 calmly, and gave no indication of resigning. The King 
 was subsequently addressed on three several occasions by 
 the Commons to dismiss those in office, but to these 
 requests His Sacred Majesty turned a deaf ear. Fox, 
 however, was firm in his resolution to oust the Ministers 
 from their places, and, with that courage which distinguished 
 his career, moved a daring remonstrance to the King for 
 persevering in opposition to the declared wishes of his 
 faithful Commons. This was carried by a majority of one, 
 and Parliament was dissolved. 
 
 Now came a time of trial and excitement for Fox and his 
 friends, which will remain for ever memorable in the annals 
 of electioneering warfare. Fox became candidate for the 
 representation of Westminster, and no exertion or influence 
 which the Court could use, or the Members of the late 
 Government could bring into force, were spared to hinder 
 him from representing a seat so conspicuous in Parliament, 
 and which was now powerfully contested by men of interest 
 and reputation Lord Hood and Sir Cecil Wray who had 
 formed a coalition against him. On the other hand, Fox 
 was supported by the influential interests of his noble 
 
 **
 
 130 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 friends, amongst whom was the heir to the throne. All 
 minor details of the general struggle going on throughout 
 the country were lost sight of in this powerful and exciting 
 contention, on which the eyes of the whole nation were 
 turned; whilst the city, during the forty-seven days which the 
 poll was kept open, presented a continued scene of turmoil 
 and bloodshed. 
 
 Matters were at this pitch, when one of the most 
 brilliant women in England came forward as Fox's ally, and 
 declared her determination of openly canvassing for him. 
 This was the famous Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire, 
 whom Walpole has happily styled ' the empress of fashion.' 
 ' Her hair,' says the gallant Sir Nathaniel Wraxall, ' was not 
 without a tinge of red, and her face, though pleasing, yet, 
 had it not been illuminated by her mind, might have been 
 considered as an ordinary countenance.' 
 
 It was not, however, to her personal appearance that she 
 owed her powers of attraction, but to the delicate grace of 
 her manners, to the exquisite charm of her movements, and 
 to the seeming unconsciousness of her gifts, all of which 
 exercised an influence that amounted to fascination over 
 those with whom she came in contact 
 
 In a moment so critical for the candidature of Westminster, 
 such a partisan could scarcely be sufficiently appreciated. 
 Having been furnished with lists of voters in the outskirts of 
 the town, the charming Duchess, accompanied by her sister, 
 the Vicountess Duncannon, drove to their houses, where 
 she exerted those powers which had hitherto always proved 
 irresistible ; neither entreaties, promises, nor, in some cases, 
 krses were spared, and she had frequently the triumph 01 
 conveying voters, whom her persuasions had won to her 
 cause, in her own coach, to the hustings. It was during 
 this canvass that an Irish labourer, whose interest she 
 solicited, paid her a compliment which, coming voluntarily 
 and unexpectedly, she was far prouder of than of the most
 
 A STRANGE PROCESSION. 131 
 
 courteous phrase from the lips of a polished courtier. ' Me 
 lady,' said this gallant Hibernian, ' your eyes are so bright I 
 could light me pipe at them.' 
 
 The result of her untiring exertion soon showed itself; 
 before she had commenced her canvass, Sir Cecil Wray had 
 surpassed Fox by a hundred votes, but at the close of the 
 poll, Fox had outstripped him by more than double that 
 number, and his victory was complete. He was now 
 hailed as 'the man of the people.' The delight of his 
 friends was unbounded, and the Duchess's praises were sung 
 in a hundred ballads ; one of which said, 
 
 ' ArrayM in matchless beauty, Devon's fair 
 In Fox's favour takes a zealous part ; 
 But oh ! where'er the pilferer comes beware, 
 She supplicates a vote, and steals a heart.' 
 
 A procession in honour of this successful election took 
 place at once, while the friends of the favoured candidate 
 were yet in a fever of enthusiasm, and the mob half-mad 
 with an excitement which reached its climax at this hour. 
 First in this strange political demonstration came a gay 
 cavalcade, one of the horsemen in which bore a floating 
 banner with the inscription, in compliment to the Duchess 
 of Devonshire, ' Sacred to Female Patriotism;' then followed 
 the equipages of the Dukes of Devonshire and Portland, 
 each drawn by six horses gaily caparisoned ; then Fox's 
 carriage, with his friends, the Hon. Colonel North, after- 
 wards Earl of Guilford, and Mr. Adam, mounted on the 
 traces ; then amongst ringing cheers, followed by a vast 
 crowd, came the hero of the hour, elevated in a chair hung 
 with wreaths of laurel, having, as Sir Nathaniel Wraxall says, 
 ' the ostrich plumes which transport us to the field of Cressy, 
 and which, during more than four centuries, have constituted 
 the crest of the successive heirs-apparent to the English 
 throne, openly borne before him; an exhibition that inspired
 
 132 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 many beholders with sentiments such as were felt by 
 numbers among the Roman people when Antony displayed 
 the deities of Egypt, mingled with the eagles of the Re- 
 public, 
 
 " Interque signa, turpe, militaria 
 Sol adspicit canopeum " ' 
 
 After traversing the principal streets at the west end ot 
 the town, the procession came to Carlton House, the gates 
 of which were flung wide open to receive it, when it passed 
 through the court in front, and then wound its way to 
 Devonshire House, where the Prince of Wales, the Duke 
 and Duchess of Devonshire, Lady Duncannon, Mrs. Crew, 
 and a brilliant assembly were collected. Fox then addressed 
 the immense crowd and dismissed them ; but at night the 
 populace gave further expression to its joy by an almost 
 general illumination. 
 
 On the next day, May i8th, the Prince gave a fete to 
 celebrate his friend's victory. This took the form of a 
 breakfast, and at mid-day over six hundred guests, who 
 included the rank, talent, and beauty of his adherents, 
 assembled on the lawn in front of Carlton House. The 
 day was bright and warm, and the scene one of unusual 
 brilliancy. Scattered all over the smooth, grassy sward 
 were groups of men and women most of them attired in 
 blue and yellow, the Republican colours adopted by Fox 
 whose sole business in life seemed the enjoyment of the 
 present hour. ^ Breakfast was laid under nine marquees, a 
 band filled the air with music. At this hour His Majesty 
 proceeded in state to open Parliament, and, separated from 
 the lawn only by a low boundary wall, had the bitter morti- 
 ficaiion of seeing his political enemies being sumptuously 
 entertained by his son. After breakfast the company rose 
 to dance on a part of the sward shaded by a group of trees ; 
 the Prince and her Grace of Devonshire leading the way. 
 Dancing continued until six in the evening, when the guests
 
 THE PRINCES AMOURS. 133 
 
 retired, to prepare themselves for a supper given by Mrs. 
 Crew, wife of the member for the county of Cheshire, a 
 woman of brilliant parts and a lively partisan of Fox's. At 
 this entertainment all the guests, including the Prince of 
 Wales, were dressed in blue and yellow. The supper, mag- 
 nificent and costly, was enjoyed by all ; at its close, His 
 Royal Highness rose to give the toast of the evening, and, 
 bowing to his hostess with that grace said to rival Louis XIV., 
 the model of all gallantry, he drank to ' True Blue and Mrs. 
 Crew.' This sample of wit and eloquence, coming from 
 right royal lips, was received with a rapture befitting the 
 occasion ; the lady was overwhelmed by this honour, but 
 was not to be outdone in courtesy ; rising, she bowed low to 
 the Prince, and raising her glass, cried out, ' True Blue and 
 all of you.' 
 
 Nor was this all ; a few days later a second fete was given 
 by the heir to the Crown, which was intended to surpass in 
 luxury and magnificence anything of the kind which had 
 been yet attempted. It commenced on the noon of one 
 day and ended on the morning of the next. The first of 
 this series of alterations at Carlton House for which the 
 Prince had a mania, and for which the nation dearly paid, 
 had been completed a month previously, and now the 
 various apartments opening on one another, the dining-room 
 with its magnificent chandeliers, the gilded state-room, the 
 spacious ball-room, and finally the orchestra, presented a 
 superb sight. A banquet was served to the ladies, on whom, 
 in a spirit of chivalry, the Prince and his male friends waited; 
 and later on the ball-room became a scene of unequalled 
 brilliancy. 
 
 By this time the Prince's amour with Mrs. Armstead had 
 ended, and that lady had returned to the protection of 
 Charles Fox, who regarded her change of feelings in a 
 thoroughly unprejudiced, philosophic, and friendly light. 
 The Prince's royal but fickle heart being once more free,
 
 134 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 he hastened to bestow it on the notorious Mrs. Billington, a 
 second-rate public singer, who warbled at Covent Garden 
 Theatre, behind the scenes of which he first met and became 
 enamoured of her. The object of this tender passion was no 
 beauty. In a manuscript letter in the collection of Richard 
 Orlebar, Esq., of Henwick House, Bedfordshire, written in 
 1788 by Miss Orlebar, the actress is described as 'a pretty 
 little figure, pale and seemingly consumptive, though a very 
 cunning look in her eyes. When she exerts herself, you can 
 absolutely see the bones in her poor, thin neck.' The writer 
 concludes by mentioning she was the Duke of Cumberland's 
 favourite. Moreover, this lady, whose attraction for the 
 Prince must have been her previous reputation, was coarse 
 in manner and avaricious ; the result was that His Royal 
 Highness soon left her for the greater charms of Mrs. Crouch, 
 the daughter of Peregrine Phillips, an actress and singer of 
 considerable merits. Mrs. Billington, it may be mentioned, 
 afterwards became devoted to the Church, as represented in 
 the person of a bishop, who acted as her friend not only in 
 a sense spiritual, but temporal. Mrs. Crouch, as may be 
 supposed, had had a husband and several lovers, some of 
 whom were young, ardent, and poetic ; many of the latter 
 had written her execrable effusions, ' On Mrs. Crouch in the 
 character of ./Eneas,' and ' On Mrs. Crouch on seeing her 
 in the character of Venus,' and on beholding her clasping a 
 rose, and engaged in various other occupations. One of 
 these assured her, 
 
 ' Clad like a modern courtly dame 
 From Paphos' isle fair Venus came.' 
 
 She, of course, being the Venus ; another gentleman, 
 whose youth we may imagine was as tender as his heart, 
 said of her,
 
 MRS. CROUCH. 135 
 
 ' Methinks I see you in your iv'ry car, 
 Sparkling in gems, like the bright morning star ; 
 In purple cloth'd, your head with roses crown'd, 
 And your moist hair with golden fillets bound.' 
 
 With the reckless extravagance which characterized him, 
 the Prince lavished vast sums upon her ; in one instance to 
 the amount of ^10,000, independently of a profusion of 
 jewellery to the value of ^5,000. Moreover, this generosity, 
 for which the nation was destined to pay, was not limited to 
 such sums, and he finally made a settlement on her of 
 3^1,200 a year for life, which, however, like the bond given 
 to Perdita Robinson, he refused to pay shortly afterwards, as 
 ' no valuable consideration had been given,' he said. Mrs. 
 Crouch, whilst she enjoyed his favour, removed from her 
 rooms in Pall Mall, and took a house in the more fashion- 
 able quarter of Berkeley Square, where she gave charming 
 entertainments and concerts that were patronized by the 
 Prince and his friends. 
 
 Meanwhile, whilst he devoted his nights to the society of 
 various sirens, England's future King spent his days at cock- 
 fights, dog-fights, and pugilistic encounters, in all of which 
 he took great interest and delight He also established a 
 stud on a scale regardless of expense, ran his horses at all 
 the celebrated courses, where he was to be seen backing his 
 favourites with heavy stakes, and to hasten his descent of 
 this road to ruin, on which he had set out with such speed, 
 he gambled night and day, and lost immense sums. 
 
 ' His nights which were not otherwise employed,' says 
 Huish, in his memoirs of George IV., ' were spent at the 
 laro-table, whither he was often taken in a state of almost 
 helpless intoxication, to render him the greater dupe of those 
 who were then fattening on the unhallowed spoil obtained by 
 their villainy.' 
 
 The Prince's personal friend, Major Hanger, in his life, 
 mentions an incident regarding one of His Royal High
 
 136 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 ness's carousals, which happened at a time when his coffers 
 were empty. . In company with such merry men as the 
 Major afore -mentioned, Charles Fox, Sheridan, and Berke- 
 ley, the Prince sought adventure at the 'Staffordshire Arms' 
 tavern, from whence he sent for further company agreeable 
 to himself and his friends, who, presently joining them, 
 created much diversion. The night was passed in a general 
 carousal, and in the early hours of morning it was found 
 there was not a sufficient sum amongst the united company 
 to defray expenses. At this critical moment one of the party 
 suggested that, as Sheridan was helplessly drunk, he should 
 be left as a hostage for the debt, an idea at once acted on by 
 the Prince and his other friends, who thus avoided payment 
 of the reckoning. Poor, reckless, brilliant, spendthrift, good- 
 hearted Sheridan ! long years afterwards his corpse was 
 arrested at the hands of the law for the sum of ^500.
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Richard Brinsley Sheridan and Miss Betsy Linley Sheridan 
 introduced to the Prince Interview with a Child of Israel 
 The Royal Debts Mrs. Fitzherbert Flight to the 
 Continent The Prince's Tears and Despair Letter from 
 Charles Fox Marriage of Mrs. Fitzherbert Cowardice 
 and Deception of the Prince The King's Social Life His 
 Original Criticisms on Shakespeare Her Majesty's Opinion 
 of the ' Sorrows of Werter' Mrs. Siddons at the Play and 
 at Windsor Signs of the King's Madness. 
 
 THIS new companion of His Royal Highness, Richard 
 Brinsley Sheridan, was the son of old Tom Sheridan, the 
 player, and Frances, his wife, a lady who wrote some excel- 
 lent novels and clever plays, one of which to wit, 'The 
 Discovery ' Garrick declared to be one of the best comedies 
 he had ever read. From her, Richard Brinsley no doubt 
 inherited a share of that talent which afterwards so highly 
 distinguished him. He was educated at Harrow, which he 
 left, it may be here remarked, without being able to spell ; 
 and, when not long out of his teens, fell in love with Miss 
 Betsy Lmley, then in her sixteenth year, a public singer 
 whose voice, according to the authorities of the day, 
 rivalled the nightingale's, and whose beauty was simply 
 angelic. 
 
 Miss Linley was not without admirers, one of whom was 
 a gentleman named Long, whose suit, notwithstanding that 
 his years numbered seventy, was looked upon with favour by 
 a kindly, though practical parent, by reason of the suitor's
 
 138 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS, 
 
 wealth ; another of these admirers was a gentle, romantic 
 youth named Halhed, who informed Miss Betsy in a florid 
 letter that, ' just as the Egyptian pharmacists were wont, in 
 embalming a dead body, to draw the brain out through the 
 ears with a crooked hook, this nightingale has drawn out 
 through mine ears, not only my brain, but my heart also ;' 
 whilst a third lover, Captain Matthews, a coward and a 
 scamp, gave more trouble than any of his rivals ; his inten- 
 tions, moreover, were dishonourable. 
 
 From these troublesome suitors she eloped with Richard 
 Brinsley Sheridan to France, where they were married, to the 
 great indignation of their unsympathetic parents. After 
 marriage, Sheridan, who had not a penny in the world, was 
 too dignified and too Irish to permit his wife to earn an 
 honest income by her talents ; yet they did not starve, as they 
 had the interest of ^3,000 which good-hearted Mr. Long 
 had settled upon Miss Betsy when she had refused his suit. 
 After awhile, being, alas ! sorely pressed for money, Sheri- 
 dan, who was naturally indolent, and seldom worked but 
 when there was necessity for gold, wrote 'The Rivals,' 
 which, owing chiefly to the bad acting of one of the per- 
 formers, was a failure on the night of its first representa- 
 tion, but eventually proved a vast favourite with the 
 public. 
 
 Its author now became a shareholder in the Drury Lane 
 play-house, for which he paid down the sum of ^10,000, to 
 the great astonishment of all his friends, who failed to ascer 
 tain how he became possessed of such a sum. Sheridan, 
 however, could keep a secret, and this one was so well 
 guarded that his biographers have never been able to throw 
 any light on the matter. He now wrote another play, ' A 
 Trip to Scarborougn,' and in 1777, when his years num- 
 bered six-and-twenty, gave the world that bright, clever 
 comedy, ' The School ior Scandal, which has become an 
 English classic.
 
 HIS DEAR SHERRY. 139 
 
 He was now at the meridian of his brilliant intellectual 
 powers; his stories were repeated in all quarters of the 
 town, his wit universally lauded, his society eagerly sought 
 after. He soon made the acquaintance of Fox, who, de- 
 lighted with his humour and the vivacious, easy flow of his 
 conversation, introduced him to the Prince of Wales. His 
 Royal Highness, impulsive and pleasure-loving, declared 
 himself charmed with his conviviality ; they soon became 
 friends, and their friendship so quickly ripened into intimacy, 
 that the Prince styled him his ' dear Sherry ;' indeed, His 
 Royal Highness found the player's son indispensable to 
 his enjoyment, and in his company he drank, gambled, 
 betted, and sought adventures of a certain class, for which 
 they both had, alas ! a common appetite and appreciation. 
 
 But such a career, without ample means to sustain it, soon 
 reduced the reckless Sherry to many shifts, and brought him 
 in contact with a large number of the children of Israel, 
 whose threatened vengeance he not unfrequently turned 
 aside by his wonderful force of persuasion, or his inimitable 
 powers of acting. It was to one of these gentlemen, who 
 rejoiced in the name of Moses Aaron, that Sheridan, on a 
 memorable occasion, addressed himself on behalf of the 
 Prince, who suffered at the time from a pressing pecuniary 
 difficulty. The place of appointment was an ante-chamber 
 in Carlton House, where the man of money was graciously 
 saluted by Sheridan, who was alone in the apartment when 
 the Jew entered. 
 
 ' Ah ! my friend Moses,' he said, with an air of great 
 delight, ' how do you do ?' 
 
 ' I would do better, Mr. Sheridan,' replied the sagacious 
 child of Israel, ' if I had my due.' 
 
 'Ah ! my friend,' said Sherry, yet more blandly, 'if every 
 man had that, many of them would have a halter.' 
 
 ' It may be so, Mr. Sheridan,' remarked Moses, who 
 knew his customer only too well ' You, I know, are a
 
 140 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 most conscientious man, and I dare say you speak as you 
 feei: 
 
 ' Well hit,' Sheridan said good-humouredly ; ' but did you 
 get that little bill done for me ? 
 
 1 No, Mr. Sheridan/ said Moses firmly ; ' it was not 
 to be done,' and he rubbed his bony hands one over the 
 other. 
 
 ' Money must be devilish scarce,' replied Sheridan, with 
 something like a sigh. 
 
 ' Or there must be something the matter with the credit of 
 the parties,' said the money-lender shrewdly, his under-lip 
 curving as if about to smile. 
 
 ' Ah ! it's the times the times,' remarked Sherry philo- 
 sophically, as he watched the child of Israel. 
 
 ' What security have you to offer ?' asked the Jew, with an 
 eye to business. 
 
 ' My honour,' said the dramatist grandly, laying his hand 
 upon his heart with a theatrical gesture. 
 
 ' Won't do,' answered Moses, shaking his wise old head ; 
 'it's quite threadbare long ago.' 
 
 ' But if the Prince goes security ?' 
 
 ' Ah !' said the Jew, with a chuckle, * that alters the case,' 
 and he rubbed his dirty hands once more. 
 
 ' Then,' said Sheridan, ' let us go in to the Prince,' and so 
 saying he led the way to the next room. 
 
 From the introduction of Moses Aaron to the heir to the 
 throne, the difficulties which soon beset the royal path, and 
 quickly accumulated, may be said to have commenced. 
 The loan required by Sheridan for the Prince was soon 
 effected, and proved but the forerunner of many others 
 which he, reckless in his expenditure, hurried on by his 
 passions, and glad to find any temporary escape from his 
 grievous difficulties, eagerly sought for and obtained on 
 terms of usurious interest. 
 
 On one occasion Moses Aaron raised for him the sum of
 
 LOADED WITH DEBT. 141 
 
 "10,000, for a post-obit bond, payable on the death of the 
 King. Of this money, he received in reality but ,7,000, 
 the remaining sum being made up, according to a practice 
 known then and now, of various articles, the most useful of 
 which were two hogsheads of French playing-cards, and 
 three puncheons of French brandy, manufactured at a dis- 
 tillery in Whitechapel. There was also a diamond cross 
 and a rosary, the diamonds being manufactured at Hounds- 
 ditch, and two hundred tea-urns, which the Prince soon 
 disposed of to another Jew at a quarter the price that honest 
 Moses Aaron had charged him. It may be recorded in the 
 history of these tea-urns, that in less than three months 
 they found their way once more to Carlton House, under 
 circumstances the same as those which first brought them 
 within the precincts of that royal residence. 
 
 Notwithstanding his income of ,62,000 a year, and the 
 "60,000 which had been granted him by Parliament on his 
 coming of age, his debts amounted in three years to 160,000. 
 At this crisis in his affairs, the Prince resolved to consult Sir 
 James Harris, afterwards Lord Malmesbury, who had been 
 Secretary of the Embassy at the Court of Madrid, and 
 Minister at the Court of Catherine II. at St. Petersburg. 
 In his valuable diaries and correspondence, he has left us an 
 account of the interviews he had with the Prince in 1785. 
 The heir to the throne told him that, in the autumn of the 
 previous year, he had written to the King, acquainting him 
 with his embarrassed situation, and declaring his wish to live 
 abroad, in order that he might retrench. This the King 
 would not hear of, but gave the Prince to understand that, 
 if he sent in an exact account of his debts, he would pay 
 them. The Prince did so, en gros, but, when the statement 
 had been kept four months, it was returned to him, saying 
 it was not exact, as the articles were not specified. The 
 Prince returned it once more, with every article minuted 
 but one, a lump sum of ,25,000, which he was not willing
 
 143 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 to account for. It was borrowed money, he told Lord Mal- 
 mesbury, and he was in honour bound not to say from 
 whence it came. The King insisted on knowing how this 
 was incurred, and declared, if it was a debt the Prince was 
 ashamed of, it was one which he, the King, ought not to 
 pay. Here matters rested, His Royal Highness strongly 
 expressing his determination of going abroad without His 
 Majesty's permission. 
 
 At the second interview which Lord Malmesbury had 
 with the coming King, that illustrious person announced 
 that he had given up all idea of leaving England ; a reason 
 for which sudden change of opinion will afterwards be seen. 
 Lord Malmesbury said, if the Prince would give him leave, 
 he would propose to Mr. Pitt to increase his revenue to 
 ;i 00,000 a year, but to this His Royal Highness would 
 not listen. The King, he said, hated him, and that he 
 would turn Pitt out of office for entertaining such an idea ; 
 besides, he could not abandon Charles Fox and the Duke 
 of Portland. His adviser, however, had wisely spoken to 
 these politicians previously on the matter, and now told His 
 Royal Highness they had informed him, they had no wish 
 he, the Prince, should take any share in party concerns ; he 
 furthermore hinted that a reconciliation with the King would 
 be wise. Once more the Prince repeated with warmth, and 
 in the most forcible manner, that the King hated him, and 
 added that, if Lord Malmesbury would not credit him, he 
 would perhaps believe the King himself; saying which, he 
 gave him the correspondence which had passed between them 
 for the last six months. 
 
 4 The Prince's letters,' said Lord Malmesbury, ' were full 
 of respect and deference, written with great plainness of 
 style and simplicity. Those of the King were also well 
 written, but harsh and severe ; constantly refusing every 
 request the Prince made, and reprobating in each of them 
 his extravagance and dissipated manner of living. They
 
 THE PRINCE'S MARRIAGE. 143 
 
 were void of every expression of parental kindness or affec- 
 tion ; and, after both hearing them read and perusing them 
 myself, I was compelled to subscribe to the Prince's opinion, 
 and to confess there was very little appearance of making 
 any impression on His Majesty in favour of His Royal 
 Highness.' 
 
 Before the interview ended, Lord Malmesbury suggested 
 the idea of the Prince marrying ; but he declared with great 
 vehemence he would never marry ; that he had settled it 
 with Frederick (his next brother), to whose children the 
 Crown would descend. 
 
 The Prince had arrived at this conclusion as he at the 
 time contemplated marriage with Mrs. Fitzherbert ; a union 
 which, according to the Royal Marriage Act, would prove 
 illegal, and the children of which he knew would be regarded 
 as illegitimate. That such a marriage took place , though 
 long a matter of doubt, in consequence of its being repeat- 
 edly repudiated by the royal husband in the latter years of 
 his life, is now an historical fact which has been conclusively 
 established. Shortly after the death of George IV., and 
 whilst Mrs. Fitzherbert lived, her friends considered it ad- 
 visable that her union with his late Majesty should be 
 rescued from all doubt, and placed on the high level of 
 certainty ; therefore the Duke of Wellington and Sir William 
 Knighton, the executors of George IV., concurring with the 
 Earl of Albemarle and Lord Stourton, Mrs. Fitzherbert's 
 nominees, deposited, in a strong-box at Coutts' bank, in 
 June, 1833, documents proving the marriage, amongst which 
 were, according to a list attested by Lords Stourton and 
 Albemarle, ' The certificate of the marriage, dated Decem- 
 ber 21, 1785; a letter from the late King, relating to the 
 marriage, signed George IV. ; a will written by the late 
 King George IV. ; and a memorandum written by Mrs. Fitz- 
 herbert, attached to a letter written by the clergyman who 
 performed the marriage ceremony. ' This box bore the super-
 
 144 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 scription, 'The property of the Earl of Albemarle, not to be 
 opened by him without apprising the Duke of Wellington.' 
 Its seals, it is believed, are yet unbroken. 
 
 At the death of Mrs. Fitzherbert, her kinsman, Lord 
 Stourton, wished to make use of these documents ; she had 
 written to him from Paris, December 7, 1833: 'I trust, 
 whenever it pleases God to remove me from this world, that 
 my conduct and character, in your hands, will not disgrace 
 my family or my friends ;' and, now that the period to 
 which she referred had arrived, he considered it his duty, 
 by the publication of these papers, to place her memory 
 beyond reproach in the eyes of the world. However* 
 before the necessary permission could be granted, he died ; 
 the desire was then repeated by his brother, the Hon. 
 Charles Langdale, to the Hon. and Rev. Edward Keppel, 
 Lord Albemarle's executor, who was by no means anxious 
 to accede to Mr. Langdale's wishes. The documents, he 
 wrote, ' would only prove the marriage of the Prince with 
 Mrs. Fitzherbert, which is not questioned . . . the public 
 might or might not be interested in the production of the 
 papers, but the revival of the subject would only pander to 
 the bad feelings or the curiosity of the great world without 
 doing good.' This wise and reverent man withholding his 
 consent, it was impossible for the Hon. Charles Langdale to 
 get possession of the documents, and it therefore only 
 remained for him to publish a narrative which Mrs. Fitz- 
 herbert had given his brother, and which was left by the 
 latter to him ; to this we are indebted for many of the 
 following facts. 
 
 Mrs. Fitzherbert, whose subsequent life became the 
 subject of a royal romance, was originally known as Mary 
 Anne Smythe. She was the daughter of a baronet, and had 
 been twice married and widowed when, in her twenty- 
 sixth year, she was introduced to the Prince at her residence, 
 Richmond HilL Though not possessed of striking beauty,
 
 A ROYAL ROMANCE. 145 
 
 her personal appearance was pleasing, and her manners 
 graceful, refined, and fascinating. For the Prince, to see 
 her was to love her, and his passion, conceived at first 
 sight, increased all the more that it met with but slight 
 encouragement from its object. Her treatment of him was 
 far different from that of any other woman who had crossed 
 his royal path, and, the more determined she was to refuse 
 him her affection, the more anxious he became to make any 
 sacrifice which could win her love. Mrs. Fitzherbert, how- 
 ever, would not consent to become his mistress, and knew 
 that, according to the provisions of the Royal Marriage Act, 
 she could not become his wife. The Prince now grew des- 
 perate, and resorted to a highly dramatic stratagem, which 
 he believed could not fail to succeed in obtaining him 
 his desires. 
 
 One morning Keit, His Royal Highness's physician, Lord 
 Onslow, Lord Southampton, and Mr. Edward Bouverie 
 drove up, in hot haste, to Mrs. Fitzherbert's house in Park 
 Street, and entered her drawing-room in a state of great 
 consternation. The Prince, they said, had stabbed himself, 
 his life was in imminent danger at that moment, and 
 nothing on earth but her presence could save him. She 
 was naturally much impressed and frightened on hearing this 
 tale of woe, but, on consideration, declared nothing should 
 induce her to enter Carlton House. These gallant men, 
 however, continuing to assure her of the Prince's most 
 critical condition, her alarm was thoroughly roused; and 
 she consented to see him, if she was accompanied by her 
 friend, the Duchess of Devonshire. To this they imme- 
 diately consented, and calling at Devonshire House, they 
 carried the charming Georgiana with them. 
 
 When Mrs. Fitzherbert entered the Prince's room, she 
 found him lying pale, agitated, and covered with blood ; the 
 effect of this dramatic situation was so striking that she 
 immediately fainted ; but the tableau was not yet completed. 
 
 ** 10
 
 H6 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 When the lady recovered consciousness, the Prince assured 
 her in solemn tones that nothing would induce him to live, 
 unless she promised to become his wife, and permitted him 
 to put a ring on her finger. A ring was, therefore, taken 
 from the Duchess of Devonshire, and this interesting scene 
 ended. The audience and the fair heroine then adjourned 
 to Devonshire House, where a deposition of what had 
 occurred was drawn up, signed and sealed by each of the 
 party, but she whom it chiefly concerned attached such 
 little importance to it, that she left it behind her, and on 
 considering over all that had passed, resolved quietly to 
 quit the country ; a resolution she carried into effect next 
 day, having first \vritten a letter to Lord Southampton 
 protesting against what had taken place, as she was not then, 
 she declared, a free agent. The Prince was now plunged 
 in yet deeper despair, and, at this time, probably meant to 
 follow her to the Continent. 
 
 With a taste and delicacy which require no comment, he 
 rushed for consolation to his former mistress, Mrs. Armstead, 
 who was then living comfortably with dear Charles Fox, at 
 St. Anne's Hill, Chertsey. This lady afterwards told Lord 
 Holland that the royal youth ' cried by the hour, that he 
 testified the sincerity and violence of his passion and 
 despair by the most extravagant expressions and actions; 
 rolling on the floor, striking his forehead, tearing his hair, 
 falling into hysterics, and swearing that he would abandon 
 the country, forego the Crown, sell his jewels and plate, and 
 scrape together a competence, to fly with the object of his 
 affections to America.' 
 
 Mrs. Fitzherbert remained abroad for eighteen months, 
 during which time couriers were continually sent to her, 
 carrying her amorous letters and propositions from her 
 royal lover. Lord Stourton saw one of these in the 
 Prince's writing, which numbered thirty-seven pages, in 
 \vhicb he stated the King would connive at their union.
 
 MRS. FITZHERBERT RETURNS. 147 
 
 At length, wearied by his entreaties, she returned to London, 
 on the understanding that she should become his wife on 
 conditions which would strictly satisfy her conscience, if not 
 give her a legal claim to the throne. Rumours of her 
 arrival soon spread about town, and the Prince's friends 
 were at once alarmed at the consequences which might 
 ensue. Fox, actuated by the great regard he held for his 
 royal patron, wrote to him to say he had heard of Mrs. 
 Fitzherbert's return, news which he would have learned with 
 the most unfeigned joy, but that he was told at the same 
 time that he, the Prince, was about to take a desperate step, 
 and marry her. If such was really in his mind, he besought 
 him, for God's sake, to consider the matter; for, in the 
 first place, a marriage with a Catholic the religion to which 
 she belonged threw the Prince contracting such out of 
 succession of the Crown. 
 
 Charles then went on to say he had not heard of any 
 public profession of change of religion on Mrs. Fitzherbert's 
 part, and, if there should be a doubt of her conversion 
 (which had never before, or after even, been hinted at), he 
 prayed the Prince to consider how he should stand, ' the 
 King not feeling for you as a father ought ; the Duke of 
 York professedly his favourite, and likely to be married 
 agreeably to the King's wishes ; the nation full of its old 
 prejudices against Catholics, and justly dreading all disputes 
 about succession.' He finished a long letter by declaring, 
 if he were Mrs. Fitzherbert's father or brother, he would 
 advise her not by any means to consent to a union which 
 could not be considered other than a mock marriage, and 
 ' to prefer any other species of connection with you, to one 
 leading to so much misery and mischief.* 
 
 The Prince, on answering his dear Charles, gave a speci- 
 men of the duplicity that was a part of his character ; he 
 told his friend to make himself easy, and to believe him the 
 world would soon be convinced ' that there not only is not, 
 
 10 a
 
 148 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 but never was, any ground for those reports which of late 
 have been so malevolently circulated.' Eleven days after 
 the date of the Prince's letter, on December 21, 1785, he 
 was married to Mrs. Fitzherbert by a clergyman of the 
 Church of England, though certain forms and circumstances 
 were observed as were recognised and used by the Catholic 
 Church in the celebration of the marriage service. The 
 ceremony took place in the drawing-room of the bride's 
 house, and was witnessed by her uncle, Harry Errington, 
 and her brother, Jack Smythe. The marriage certificate 
 was written in the Prince's handwriting, and was signed by 
 him, as well as by the witnesses, but in a time of subsequent 
 danger the names of the latter were cut off by Mrs. Fitz- 
 herbert, to save her relatives from the peril of the statute of 
 pramunire, which, according to BlackstonJs Commentaries, 
 they incurred by * assisting or being present ' at an un- 
 authorised marriage with a descendant of George II. This 
 she afterwards regretted, she told Stourton ; but a letter 
 from the Prince, in which he thanked God that the witnesses 
 of their union were still living, was preserved. 
 
 For a time the marriage was kept as a secret, but by 
 degrees some rumours of it were whispered through the 
 town, contradicted and repeated, doubted and re-asserted. 
 In February, 1786, Horace Walpole writes to Sir Horace 
 Mann : 
 
 ' I am obliged to you for your accounts of the House 
 of Albany ; but that extinguishing family can make no 
 sensation here, when we have other guess matter to talk of 
 in a higher and more flourishing race ; and yet were rumour 
 ay, much more than rumour, every voice in England to 
 be credited, the matter, somehow or other, reaches even 
 from London to Rome. I know nothing but the buzz of 
 the day, nor can say more upon it : if I send you a riddle, 
 fame, or echo, from so many voices, will soon reach you and 
 explain the enigma ; though I hope it is essentially void of
 
 HIS SACRED HONOUR. 149 
 
 truth, and that appearances rise from a much more common 
 cause.' 
 
 So important a matter as the marriage of the heir-apparent 
 was not long confined to the whispering of gossips ; the 
 public was anxious to ascertain if there was any truth in the 
 rumour, and accordingly, the first opportunity of bringing 
 the subject forward in the House of Commons was eagerly 
 seized on. This occurred when an appeal was made to 
 increase the income of the Prince, who was now overwhelmed 
 by debts and difficulties, the result of his determined ex- 
 travagance, from which the King had wholly refused to 
 extricate him. In April, 1786, Mr. Newenham, one of the 
 members for the City of London, announced his intention 
 to move an address to the throne, 'entreating His Majesty 
 to inquire into the Prince's embarrassed situation, and to 
 rescue him from it,' on which Rolle, the member for Devon- 
 shire, rose up, and, in covert language which was thoroughly 
 understood by all, stated that the present situation of His 
 Royal Highness directly affected the Constitution both in 
 Church and State. 
 
 This note of alarm struck the Prince with dismay, for he 
 saw the subject of his marriage must inevitably be referred 
 to, and he dreaded the results. At such a moment this 
 cowardly, selfish, and vicious man did not hesitate to blast 
 the reputation of a woman he professed to love, and who he 
 knew valued her virtue more than aught else in life ; nor 
 did he shrink from making his friend the innocent accom- 
 plice in a scheme of treachery and fraud. He sent for 
 Charles Fox and Mr. Grey to Carlton House, and, referring 
 to the rumour of his marriage, he, according to Lord 
 Brougham, 'most solemnly denied the whole upon his 
 sacred honour.' 
 
 Armed with this authority, Charles Fox, on the subject 
 being resumed, attended the House of Commons, and 
 assured a crowded and excited assembly that the report
 
 ISO COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 alluded to by Mr. Rolle was ' a mischievous calumny, a low, 
 malicious falsehood, which had been propagated without 
 doors, and made the wanton sport of the vulgar ; a tale fit 
 only to impose upon the lowest orders, a monstrous inven- 
 tion, a report of a fact which had not the smallest degree of 
 foundation, actually impossible to have happened.' Rolle 
 desired to be informed whether Fox had spoken from direct 
 authority ; a question to which he instantly replied that he 
 had. 
 
 Though it was not doubted that he had the Prince's 
 sanction to deny the marriage, yet the fact that no one 
 believed the statement that His Royal Highness was not 
 married to Mrs. Fitzherbert sufficiently indicates the regard 
 in which the royal honour was held. But the princely 
 duplicity was not yet complete. According to the Langdale 
 Memoirs, he was the first to announce Fox's denial of their 
 marriage to Mrs. Fitzherbert ; for which purpose, he called 
 on her early on the morning after the debate, when, going 
 up to her, he took both her hands, and, caressing her in his 
 usual affectionate manner, said, 
 
 ' Only conceive, Maria, what Fox did yesterday. He 
 went down to the House and denied that you and I were 
 man and wife. Did you ever hear of such a thing ?' 
 
 Mrs. Fitzherbert turned pale, and was too much overcome 
 to make an immediate reply. The public, she told her re- 
 lative, Lord Stourton, supported her by their conduct on 
 this occasion ; for at no period of her life were their visits 
 so numerous as the day following the denial The bell and 
 the knocker of the door were never still, she said, during the 
 day. Nor was Fox allowed to remain long ignorant of the 
 gross deception which his royal friend had so successfully 
 practised on him. In Lord John Russell's life of that states 
 man, he says : ' On the uay after Mr. Fox's declaration, a 
 gentleman of his acquaintance *ent up to him at Brookes's, 
 and said, " I see by the papers, Mr Fox, that you have
 
 SHERIDANS COMPLIMENTS. 151 
 
 denied the fact of the marriage of the Prince of Wales with 
 Mrs. Fitzherbert. You have been misinformed. I was 
 present at that marriage." ' 
 
 It is stated that for twelve months afterwards Fox refused 
 to see the Prince. 
 
 Meantime, Mrs. Fitzherbert, conscious of the cruel blow 
 her reputation had received, and considering herself publicly 
 compromised, determined to break off all connection with 
 the Prince ; but he assured her that he was quite blameless 
 concerning what had passed, and now tried to heal, if pos- 
 sible, the wound which his perfidy had given to a sensitive 
 and virtuous woman, whose sole misfortune was her love for 
 him. He sent for Mr. (afterwards Earl) Grey, and pacing 
 up and down the room in a hurried and shame-faced manner, 
 declared that ' Charles had certainly gone too far ;' and then, 
 as Lord Grey mentions in a note to Fox's correspondence, he 
 confessed his marriage, and finally asked his friend to explain 
 the matter. Mr. Grey coolly and justly informed the Prince 
 the mistake could only be rectified by His Royal Highness 
 speaking to Mr. Fox, and setting him right on such matters 
 as had been misunderstood between them. ' No other per- 
 son,' he added, ' can be employed without questioning Mr. 
 Fox's veracity; which nobody, I presume, is prepared to do.' 
 Disappointed and chagrined by this unexpected reply, the 
 Prince flung himself on a sofa, saying, ' Well, Sheridan must 
 say something.' Accordingly, Sheridan took an early oppor- 
 tunity of paying a vague compliment in the House of Com- 
 mons ' to female delicacy,' and declared that ignorance and 
 folly could alone have persevered in attempting to injure the 
 reputation of one whose character was open to no just re- 
 proach, and was entitled to the truest and most general 
 respect. With these bland and meaningless compliments, 
 which gave no contradiction to Fox's denial, the matter was 
 allowed to rest. Mrs. Fitzherbert's friends assured her that, 
 in the wide discrepancy between Fox's statements and those
 
 152 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 of the Prince, she was bound to accept her husband's word. 
 Their connection was therefore once more resumed ; but 
 during her life she would never consent to see Charles Fox 
 again. 
 
 It was now intimated to the Prince that if the original 
 motion praying for an income were withdrawn, the King 
 would strive to arrange his debts, which had by this time 
 reached the round sum of ^193,648. Accordingly, on His 
 Royal Highness's gracious compliance, his liabilities were 
 submitted to the inspection of Commissioners, appointed by 
 His Majesty. The King finally sent a message to Parlia- 
 ment, declaring he had consented to a further sum of 
 ; 1 0,000 being added to His Royal Highness's income, 
 blandly stating that ' he had now to recur to the liberality 
 and attachment of his faithful Commons for their assistance 
 on an occasion so interesting (!) to His Majesty's feelings, 
 and to the ease and honour of so distinguished a branch of 
 his royal family.' His Majesty further observed that he 
 ' could not expect or desire the assistance of the House but 
 on a well-grounded expectation that the Prince will avoid 
 contracting any debts in future.' The result of this most 
 civil message was that His Royal Highness was voted 
 ;i6i,ooo to pay his debts, and ,20,000 on account of 
 the unnecessary alterations being made at Carlton House. 
 
 After this, a sham peace was effected between the King 
 and his heir, who attended a drawing-room at St. James's, 
 and was paraded like a royal marionnette on the public 
 terrace at Windsor, walking side by side with His Sacred 
 Majesty, conversing freely, and behaving in the eyes of a vast 
 concourse as a right loyal and truly model soa 
 
 We must now turn back to the domestic life of the King, 
 which was so quiet and uneventful as to leave but little for 
 the historiographer to narrate. For such glimpses as are 
 obtainable, we are chiefly indebted to the very loyal and 
 pleasant pens of Mrs. Uelany and Fanny Burney. The
 
 MRS. DELANY. 153 
 
 former lady, when introduced to George III. and his family, 
 had reached an advanced age, but still retained much of her 
 mental vigour, and somewhat of that grace and beauty which, 
 in her early days, had rendered her a toast for wits and a 
 theme for poets. This charming and interesting gentle- 
 woman was the widow of a man who had been an able 
 scholar and eloquent preacher in his day. She was, more- 
 over, related to the noble house of Lansdowne ; had been 
 maid-of-honour to Queen Anne of godly memory ; had en- 
 joyed the friendships of Swift and Pope, of Young, the gifted 
 poet, and Horace Walpole, the accomplished gossip, and 
 Lady Mary Wortley Montagu, the learned traveller, and a 
 host of other individuals more or less distinguished. 
 
 Amongst the few friends of her earlier life who yet sur- 
 vived was Margaret, Duchess of Portland, whose praises had 
 been sung by Swift and Prior, and whose beauty had rendered 
 her a celebrity in her youth. Mrs. Delany and the Duchess, 
 who, as Hannah More said, was 'of the noble and munificent 
 style of the old nobility,' were fast friends, and it was whilst 
 staying with her Grace at Bulstrode Park, in Buckingham- 
 shire, that she had her first private view of their Gracious 
 Majesties. The King and Queen, attended by Princes and 
 Princesses, and escorted by their attendants, drove in an 
 open chaise, on horseback, and in coaches, making what the 
 dear oM lady calls ' a splendid figure,' as they approached 
 through the park and galloped into the court in front of the 
 house. The day was as brilliant as even anyone so loyal as 
 the narrator could desire, it being, by the way, the sixteenth 
 birthday of the heir to the Throne ; and there were the 
 royal family in many coloured costumes, looking as gay as 
 might be, ' the Queen in a hat and an Italian night-gown of 
 purple lutestring trimmed with silver gauze,' quite graceful 
 and genteel and dignified ; the three Princesses all in frocks, 
 the King in a uniform of blue and gold, very condescending, 
 and in great good-humour. They all walked into the draw-
 
 154 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 ing-room, and through the great apartments, observing every- 
 thing. Mrs. Delany did not follow in the courtly train, but 
 remained in one of the drawing-rooms to rest ; but, when 
 she was missed, Majesty at once sent for her, and she hurried 
 to its august presence as fast as she could travel, whereon 
 the Queen said to her, ' Though I desired you to come, I 
 did not desire you to run and fatigue yourself,' words which 
 the good old soul to whom they were addressed repeated and 
 treasured up in her courtier's heart as long as she lived. 
 
 ' Then the King and all his royal children, and the rest 
 of the train, chose to go to the gallery,' Mrs. Delany says, in 
 all simplicity, ' where the well-furnished tables were set ; one 
 with tea, coffee, and chocolate, another with their proper 
 accompaniments of eatables, rolls, cakes, etc. ; another 
 table with fruits and ices, in the utmost perfection, which, 
 with a magical touch, had succeeded a cold repast.' 
 
 Indeed, it was all like a fairy tale to good Mrs. Delany ; 
 and to make it more so still, the Queen sat in the drawing- 
 room, not eating bread and honey, but drinking a dish of 
 tea served her by the Duchess. Presently the King and 'the 
 young royals' returned, and His Gracious Majesty set a 
 chair for poor, feeble old Mrs. Delany, who had been stand- 
 ing all the while in the sacred presence of the plain little 
 Queen ; at which act of courtesy she felt confused, but Her 
 Majesty, turning to her, said, 'Mrs. Delany, sit down, sit down; 
 it is not everybody that has a chair brought her by a King.' 
 
 The climax of the royal graciousness arrived when she 
 was commanded, with the Duchess of Portland, to drink tea 
 at Windsor on the following evening. When they arrived 
 at the hour appointed, the two venerable ladies walked 
 ' through a large room, with great bay windows, where were 
 all the Princesses and youngest Princes, with their attendant 
 ladies and gentlemen.' Then they passed on to the bed- 
 chamber, where they found the Queen standing in the 
 middle of the room. At eight o'clock, their Majesties, with
 
 ' THE ROYALS BEGAN A BALL' 155 
 
 eleven of the Princes and Princesses, walked out on the 
 terrace in procession, to the sound of martial music, where 
 the people were waiting to see the royal show, the Duchess 
 of Portsmouth and her friend being left with the Bishop of 
 Lichfield and Lady Weymouth. 
 
 ' When they returned,' writes Mrs. Delany, ' we were 
 summoned into the next room to tea, and the royals began 
 a ball, and danced two country dances, to the music of 
 French horns, bassoons, and hautboys, which were the same 
 that played on the terrace. The King came up to the 
 Prince of Wales, and said he was sure, when he considered 
 how great an effort it must be to play that kind of music so 
 long a time together, that he would not continue their 
 dancing there, but that the Queen and the rest of the com- 
 pany were going to the Queen's house, and they should re- 
 new their dancing there and have proper music.' Then Mrs. 
 Delany says she can say no more, for she 'cannot describe the 
 gay and polished appearance of the Queen's house, furnished 
 with English manufacture ;' and so her narrative of this 
 evening ends in what may be considered silent rapture. 
 
 Four months later, she gives another description of the 
 honours she received from their Majesties at Windsor, on 
 the Princess Royal's birthday, which is singularly quaint 
 and not without interest. ' The Queen,' she writes to Miss 
 Port of Ham, who no doubt wished to be favoured with an 
 account of the fashions indulged in by royalty, 'was dressed 
 in an embroidered lutestring ; Princess Royal in deep orange 
 or scarlet I could not by candle-light distinguish which 
 Princess Augusta in pink ; Princess Elizabeth in blue. These 
 were all in robes without aprons. Princess Mary a most 
 sweet child was in cherry-coloured tabby, with silver lead- 
 ing-strings. She is about four years old. She could not 
 remember my name, but, making me a very low curtsey, 
 she said, " How do you do, Duchess of Portland's friend ? 
 And how does your little niece do ? I wish you had brought
 
 i $6 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 her." The King carried about in his arms, by turns, Prin- 
 cess Sophia, and the last Prince, Octavius, so called being 
 the eighth son.' 
 
 Mrs. Delany never saw more lovely children, or a more 
 pleasing sight, after which admission, she goes on : ' The 
 King brought in his arms the little Prince Octavius to me, 
 who held out his hand to play with me, which, on my taking 
 the liberty to kiss, His Majesty made him kiss my cheek.' 
 Then there was a concert of vocal and instrumental music, 
 but no supper ; and their Majesties talked to her. Every- 
 thing was pleasant ; everyone was delightful ; even the 
 moon, which lit her on her way home through Windsor 
 Great Park, was on that night found unusually brilliant and 
 charming. ' 
 
 Such a favourite did Mrs. Delany become with royalty, 
 that, six years later, in 1785, when she had lost her old and 
 valued friend, the Duchess of Portsmouth, the King pre- 
 sented her with a house close to the royal residence at 
 Windsor, which he furnished, and, furthermore, granted 
 her an annuity of ^300 out of the Privy Purse. This kind- 
 ness was gladly accepted, and in the September of this year, 
 she took up her residence in her new home, where it was 
 that their Majesties first saw the famous Fanny Burney. 
 The said Frances was daughter of Dr. Burney, a musical 
 teacher, the reputation of whose works on subjects connected 
 with his art, together with his talents and his happy temper, 
 brought him much into the polite and literary society of the day. 
 In turn, this polite and literary society graciously gathered 
 beneath the doctor's roof, and unconsciously formed a study 
 to a quiet, retiring child of the house, who, with open eyes 
 and ears, closely noted all that passed before her. The 
 result of this observation was that, in due time, she com- 
 mitted her impressions to paper, and produced a novel 
 destined to be known to the world under the style and 
 title of ' Evelina.' The manuscript was, with many hopes
 
 THE AUTHORESS OF 'EVELINA' 157 
 
 and fears, committed to Dodsley, the publisher, who rejected 
 it, when it was sent to Lowndes, in Fleet Street. 
 
 The author gave the name of Grafton, and had her corre- 
 spondence addressed to the Orange Coffee-house, Miss 
 Burney considering it necessary that her incognita should be 
 strictly preserved. Lowndes offered the delighted young 
 authoress the sum of twenty pounds for her copyright, which 
 was ' accepted with alacrity and boundless surprise at its 
 magnificence ;' six months after, the book appeared in all the 
 glory of type in January, 1778. Then, in a little while, 
 came the first burst of appreciation, which presently in- 
 creased to a whirlwind of success. Reviewers became 
 eulogistic, the public read it with avidity, Edmund Burke 
 remained up all night to finish it, fine ladies wept over its 
 pages, its merits were lauded in drawing-rooms, and its name 
 grew familiar on the lips of all men. 
 
 By-and-by it became whispered that Fanny Burney was 
 the authoress of ' Evelina,' and great was her social triumph ; 
 she now became what was called a person of distinction, and 
 soon grew acquainted with and made the friendships of 
 many worthy persons, amongst whom was Mrs. Delany; 
 and it was whilst staying with this venerable lady at her 
 house in Windsor, Fanny first came face to face with 
 Majesty. Royalty was in the habit of visiting Mrs. Delany 
 at all hours, and in the most unceremonious manner pos- 
 sible ; and Miss Burney had on more than one occasion fled 
 to her own room panic-stricken when the royal knock had 
 thundered at her worthy hostess's door. 
 
 It happened, however, that one afternoon, when Mrs. 
 Delany had retired for her after-dinner nap, Miss Burney 
 was in the drawing-room teaching the old lady's little grand- 
 niece a Christmas game, in which some friends who were 
 present joined. They were all in right merry confusion, 
 standing in the middle 01 the floor, when Mrs. Delany came 
 in to inruire what was going forward. Frances was disen-
 
 158 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 tangling herself, when suddenly ' the door of the drawing- 
 room was again opened, and a large man in deep mourning 
 appeared at it, entering and shutting it himself without 
 speaking.' A ghost, she says, could not have more scared 
 her when she discovered, by the star on the large man's 
 breast, that she stood in the sacred presence of royalty. 
 Then Mrs. Delany's niece cried out, ' The King, aunt the 
 King.' Everyone scampered out of the way, whilst Mrs. 
 Delany advanced to greet His Majesty. The child clung to 
 Fanny, who rapidly retreated to the wall, on thoughts intent 
 of gliding s*oftly out of the room ; but, even as she strove to 
 put her purpose into execution, she, with fluttering heart, 
 heard a loud whisper from the royal lips. ' Is that Miss 
 Burney ?' said the King. ' Yes, sir,' said Mrs. Delany. 
 Then he bowed with what the authoress describes as 'a 
 countenance of the most perfect good-humour,' whilst she 
 curtseyed with reverence most profound. He then asked 
 her, 'How long have you been back?' But her reply 
 was so subdued and her tone so nervous, that, alas ! it 
 never reached the royal ears. The King now imparted to 
 Mrs. Delany the important information that the Princess 
 Elizabeth was using James's powders, that she had been 
 blooded twelve times in the last fortnight, and had lost 
 seventy-five ounces of blood, besides undergoing blistering 
 and other discipline; the other children, he said, had 
 whooping-cough, and he had rheumatism. He paid the 
 strictest attention to simple diet, he added, for he ' pre- 
 ferred eating plain and little to growing diseased and 
 infirm.' 
 
 When he had finished these interesting particulars, he 
 told Mrs. Delany that Dr. Burney had repeated to him the 
 whole history of the novel ' Evelina.' Then he went up 
 abruptly to the trembling authoress, who, as she tells us, 
 could never forget his face while she lived, and said, ' But 
 what what how was it f
 
 THE KING AND THE AUTHORESS. 159 
 
 ' Sir !' cried she, not well understanding him. 
 
 'How came you how happened it what what?' re- 
 peated His Majesty, with interest. 
 
 ' I I only wrote, sir, for my own amusement only in 
 some odd idle hours,' she replied. 
 
 ' But your publishing your printing how was that ?' asks 
 the King incoherently. 
 
 ' That was only, sir only because ' 
 
 The what was then repeated with so earnest a look that, 
 forced to say something, she, with ever-increasing confusion, 
 stammeringly answered : 
 
 ' I thought, sir, it would look very well in print.' Imme- 
 diately she had spoken she felt that this was the silliest 
 speech she had ever made in her life. He laughed very 
 heartily, and walked away to enjoy it, crying out, 'Very 
 fair indeed ; that's being very fair and honest !' which made 
 Fanny blush all the more. 
 
 Presently a violent thunder was made at the door, and a 
 second afterwards the Queen herself entered the habitation 
 of worthy Mrs. Delany. 
 
 ' Oh, your Majesty is here !' she cried to the King, making 
 him a curtsey when she set eyes on him. 
 
 ' Yes,' he replied ; ' I ran here without speaking to any- 
 body.' 
 
 The Queen then spoke to Mrs. Delany, and Miss Burney 
 instantly felt the royal eye on her face, and she, poor little 
 woman, was about to sink with horrid uncertainty of what 
 she was doing or what she should do ; but the King came 
 to her rescue, and she dropped a curtsey to the Queen, who 
 returned it civilly enough, and entered into conversation 
 with her. Then Her Majesty spoke of the drawing-room 
 which she had held in town on the previous Thursday in the 
 midst of a dense fog. 
 
 ' I assure you, ma'am,' cried she to Mrs. Delany, ' it was 
 so dark, there was no seeing anything, and no knowing any-
 
 160 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 body. And Lady Harcourt could be of no help to tell me 
 who people were ; for, when it was light, she can't see, and 
 now it was dark, I could not see myself. So it was in vain 
 for me to go on in that manner, without knowing which I 
 had spoken to, and which was waiting for me ; so I said to 
 Lady Harcourt, " We had better stop, and stand quite still ; 
 for I don't know anybody, no more than you do. But, if we 
 stand still, they will all come up in the end, and we must 
 ask them who they are, and if I have spoken to them yet or 
 not ; for it is very odd to do it, but what else can we 
 manage ?" So there was standing by me a man that I could 
 not see in the face, but I saw the twisting of his bow, 
 and said to Lady Harcourt, " I am sure that must be 
 nobody but the Duke of Dorset" "Dear," she says, 
 <l how can you tell that ?" "Only ask," said I; and so it 
 proved he.' 
 
 After more conversation of a like character, the King and 
 Queen got into their royal coach, and were driven away to 
 their royal castle, leaving the little groups in Mrs. Delany's 
 drawing-room marvelling much at their mighty condescen 
 sion, graciousness, and simplicity. 
 
 A few evenings after this, whilst Mrs. Delany, her niece, 
 and Fanny Burney were sitting working in the drawing- 
 room, the door opened, and who steps in once more but the 
 King ! They all started up, but he made his hostess resume 
 her place, whilst he told her about the Princess Elizabeth 
 and James's powders again. The conversation soon veered 
 from this young lady, whom His Majesty, it appears, had 
 left ' in a sweet sleep,' to Madame de Genlis and Voltaire, 
 who was voted a monster by the King. Then followed a 
 criticism on Shakespeare, startlingly original and refreshing. 
 ' Was there ever,' cried the royal man, ' such stuff as great 
 part of Shakespeare ; only one must not say so. But what 
 
 think you what Is there not sad stuff what what? 1 
 
 Miss Burney ventured to hint that the stuff was mixed with
 
 THE KINL, AS A CRITIC. 161 
 
 certain excellencies, but was immediately interrupted. ' Oh,' 
 said the King, ' I know it is not to be said, but it's true. 
 Only it's Shakespeare, and nobody dare abuse him ; but one 
 should be stoned for saying so !' 
 
 Next morning Miss Burney had a conversation with the 
 Queen, during which the royal lady gave her various opinions 
 of several authors and their works. The authoress of 
 ' Alphonsine,' she informed her new friend, had always sent 
 her books to Her Majesty, even when she did not know there 
 was such a lady as Madame de Genlis. She furthermore 
 added that the ' Sorrows of Werter ' was ' done by a bad 
 man for revenge.' The Queen then went on to praise a 
 book which she had picked up on an old book-stall. ' Oh, it 
 is amazing what good books there are on stalls,' said her 
 economical Majesty. ' I don't pick them up myself,' she 
 explained, ' but I have a servant very clever ; and, if they 
 are not to be had at the booksellers', they are not for me any 
 more than for another.' Her Majesty finished the discourse 
 with a pinch of snuff and a snuffle. 
 
 'Mrs. Siddons, the actress,' as Miss Burney speaks of the 
 famous tragedienne, was occasionally summoned to Windsor, 
 to read before royalty. Not only their Gracious Majesties, 
 but Fanny Burney (who had now become Her Gracious 
 Majesty's dresser) patronized this wife of an ex-theatrical 
 wig-maker. 
 
 ' She is a woman of excellent character,' writes the afore- 
 mentioned Frances, ' and therefore I am very glad she is 
 thus patronized, since Mrs. Abingdon and so many fair, frail 
 ones have been thus noticed by the great. She behaved 
 with great propriety very calm, modest, quiet, and un- 
 affected. She has, however, a steadiness in her manner and 
 deportment by no means engaging.' > 
 
 The royal family went, in solemn state, to see her play 
 Isabella in the 'Fatal Marriage,' in October, 1783. 
 Their Majesties witnessed the performance in a box, having 
 
 ** Ji
 
 162 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 a rich canopy of crimson velvet and gold ; that under which 
 the Prince of Wales rested was adorned with blue velvet and 
 silver, and the Princess's box was trimmed with blue satin 
 and silver fringe. The dresses of the royal family were in 
 keeping with such theatrical magnificence. His Gracious 
 Majesty wore a suit of ' Quaker-coloured clothes, with gold 
 buttons ; the Queen, a white satin robe, with a head-dress 
 which was ornamented by a great number of diamonds. 
 The Princess Royal was dressed in a white and blue figured 
 silk, and Princess Augusta in a rose-coloured and white silk, 
 of the same pattern as her sister's, having both their head- 
 dresses richly ornamented with diamonds ; and His Royal 
 Highness the Prince of Wales had a suit of dark blue Geneva 
 velvet, richly trimmed with gold lace.' Mrs. Siddons on 
 this occasion exerted her great genius to such a degree that 
 she not only affected her audience, but also the actors who 
 played with her. As for the King, he freely shed tears ; her 
 gracious, but more stolid Majesty, however, was less moved ; 
 she turned her back upon the stage, and declared the per- 
 formance ' too disagreeable.' 
 
 Henceforth the King declared there was never any player 
 in his time so excellent, ' not Garrick himself ; I own it. 
 What what what 7 was the royal acknowledgment of her 
 merit. The Queen proved her appreciation of Mrs. Siddons 
 in another way, by appointing her preceptress in English 
 reading to the Princesses, omitting, however, to grant a 
 salary with the appointment ; but in return for her services 
 she was graciously permitted to hear Her Majesty's com- 
 ments delivered in broken English, the actress standing 
 in the royal presence the while, until she was ready to faint 
 from fatigue. 
 
 Of one of her readings at Windsor Castle, Mrs. Delany 
 gives a graphic description. 
 
 ' Their Majesties,' writes the old lady, 'sat in the middle 
 of the first row, with the Princesses on each hand, which
 
 APPROACHING MADNESS. 163 
 
 filled it. The rest of the ladies were seated in the row 
 behind them, and, as there was a space between that and 
 the wall, the lords and gentlemen that were admitted stood 
 there. Mrs. Siddons read standing, and had a desk with 
 candles before her. She behaved with great propriety, and 
 read two acts of "The Provoked Husband," which was 
 abridged by leaving out Sir Francis and Lady Wronghead's 
 parts. She also read Queen Catherine's last speech in 
 " King Henry VIII." She was allowed three pauses, to go 
 into the next room and refresh herself for half an hour each 
 time. After she was dismissed, their Majesties detained the 
 company for some time, to talk over what had passed, which 
 was not the least agreeable part of the entertainment.' 
 
 Such are a few of the rare glimpses of the royal domestic 
 life at this period which are afforded us. 
 
 In the autumn of 1788, His Majesty's health became 
 variable ; his conversation grew more abrupt and rambling 
 than before ; a restless nervousness was noticeable in his 
 manner ; his moods became strangely changeable ; his mind 
 abstracted ; and to those who watched him it was evident 
 he was labouring under the first symptoms of an affliction 
 which he in vain sought to overcome and conceal from those 
 around him. This mental malady was preceded by a slight 
 physical illness that gave some alarm to his family. ' He 
 went out in the dew one morning just before his attack,' 
 writes Lord Minto of His Majesty, 'and, instead of changing 
 his shoes and stockings, came to town in them quite wet. 
 After the levee, he returned to Kew, where the Queen 
 wished him to take something cordial ; but Georgy boy liked 
 his own way best, and ate a pear and drank a glass of cold 
 water. He was unwell all the evening, and went to bed at 
 his usual hour. About one in the morning, he was seized 
 with a cramp or some other violent thing in the stomach, 
 which rendered him speechless, and, in a word, was all but. 
 The Queen ran out in great alarm in her shift, or with very 
 
 XX 2
 
 164 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 little clothes, among the pages, who, seeing her in that 
 situation, were at first retiring out of respect, but the Queen 
 stopped them, and sent them instantly for the apothecary 
 at Richmond, who arrived in about forty minutes, during 
 which time the King had continued in the fits and speech- 
 less. The apothecary tried to make him swallow something 
 strong, but the King, who appeared not to have lost his 
 senses, still liked a bit of his own way, and rejected by signs 
 everything of that sort. They contrived, however, to cheat 
 him, and got some cordial down in the shape of medicine, 
 and the fit went off. He has been ill ever since, although 
 he has been out and at Court.' 
 
 When he had recovered from this, signs of a more dis- 
 tressing malady quickly made their appearance. 
 
 On one occasion when Mrs. Siddons had been delighting 
 the royal circle with a recitation, the King suddenly handed 
 her a sheet of paper, which merely contained his signature ; 
 at another time, when he attended the weekly levee at St 
 James's, his disordered dress and vacant manner gave rise to 
 many strange surmises. A little later on, a review at which 
 he was to have been present was deferred, and the royal 
 drawing-rooms were suspended. He complained of want of 
 sleep and rest, and of physical weakness. Meanwhile, he 
 was painfully conscious of his danger. One day he had 
 been out riding, and had remained for hours unusually 
 silent ; on returning to Windsor he hastened through the 
 passages, much agitated, but without looking to right or 
 left, until he reached his own apartments, where, flinging 
 himself down, he burst into tears, and cried out, in a pitiful 
 voice, ' i am going to be mad, and I wish to God that I 
 may die.' But the unhappy climax of this dread malady 
 which had taken possession of the King had not yet arrived, 
 and though vague rumours of his illness were rife in town, 
 yet within the precincts of Windsor all was kept as secret as 
 possible.
 
 THE KING WAS MAD. 16$ 
 
 Miss Burney has left us a vivid picture of this distressing 
 period. His strength seemed diminishing hourly ; his coun- 
 tenance was altered strangely ; his voice became so hoarse 
 that he could scarcely be heard. ' You see me all at once 
 an old man,' he said to Lady Effingham. ' God send him 
 better,' writes kindly Fanny Burney. The gloom of an im- 
 pending sorrow hung threateningly over royal Windsor in 
 these early November days, and impressed itself painfully 
 on all the household. The Queen, overpowered with secret 
 terror, strove to maintain her calmness, but, when left alone, 
 sought relief in violent bursts of tears ; doctors passed noise- 
 lessly to and fro, looking sad and hopeless. The King was 
 now kept in the greatest seclusion ; the Prince of Wales 
 drove up from Brighton, where he had been spending his 
 days in scandalous dissipation ; all music was forbidden, 
 and the musicians ordered away ; gentlemen of the house- 
 hold stood in silent groups in the chambers, thoughtful and 
 gloomy, as if awaiting the announcement of death ; and 
 throughout the household an ominous atmosphere of 
 depression reigned unbroken. 
 
 ' Nobody stirred,' writes Miss Burney. ' Not a voice was 
 heard, not a step, not a motion. I could do nothing but 
 watch, without knowing for what. There seemed a strange- 
 ness in the house most extraordinary.' 
 
 At last the long-dreaded moment came. The royal family 
 were dining in seclusion, when suddenly the King broke out 
 in a frenzy, flew at the Prince of Wales, and, seizing him by 
 the throat, thrust him against the wall From that hour it 
 was no longer a secret that the King was mad.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Old Wits in the New Reign My Lord Chesterfield in his Last 
 Days Rehearsing his Funeral His Courtesy Strong in 
 Death Remarkable Will At Strawberry Hill Walpole's 
 Amiable and Polished Manner Reads his Tragedy to a 
 Bevy of Fine Ladies His Contempt for Men of Letters 
 Chatterton writes to Him Fight for Bread, and Death 
 by Poison At the First Academy Dinner Kitty Clive at 
 Strawberry Hill The Misses Berry Walpole's Last Days. 
 
 MANY of the distinguished men and women, whose wit and 
 talent had served to render the social life during the last 
 reign one of unusual brilliancy, had passed away before the 
 third of the Georges ascended the throne. Little Mr. Pope 
 was quietly sleeping in the aisle of Twickenham Church ; 
 ' Hervey the handsome,' cynic, courtier, and satirist, whom 
 the poet detested and virulently abused, had gone where no 
 bitter words could reach him ; Sir Godfrey Kneller had laid 
 down his brush for ever ; poor Swift had ended his melan- 
 choly days in madness; Bolingbroke, politician and wit, 
 was missing from many social boards ; so also was Gay ; and 
 the beautiful Countess of Coventry, who had hastened her 
 demise by smearing her face with paint, had closed her eyes 
 on the vanities of this world ere the new King was pro- 
 claimed. But my Lord Chesterfield, Horace Walpole, and 
 George Selwyn, three men of excellent wit, still happily sur- 
 vived; so also, but for a brief time, did my Lady Mary 
 Wortley Montagu; and Lady Hervey, otherwise Molly
 
 *JE SOUFFRE D'ETRE: 167 
 
 Lapell, the once charming maid of honour, now styled by 
 Lord Carlisle 'the most impertinent old brimstone,' en- 
 livened the not too melancholy days of her widowhood by 
 giving charming little French dinners to the choicest spirits 
 of the town. 
 
 My Lord Chesterfield, once loved for his wit and feared 
 for his satire, now lived much retired ; new men bore old 
 names once familiar on his lips ; unknown faces met his 
 gaze in club and drawing-room, and manners had somewhat 
 changed their form since his younger days. The 'lord 
 amongst wits' lived chiefly in the magnificent mansion he 
 had erected and named Chesterfield House, spending the 
 greater part of his days in the seclusion of his library, which 
 he boasted was the finest room in London. Rooms are 
 more or less characteristic of those who dwell in them, and 
 Lord Chesterfield's library was eminently a refined and 
 stately apartment 'The walls were covered half-way up 
 with rich and classical stores of literature ; above the cases 
 were, in close series, the portraits of eminent authors, French 
 and English, with most of whom he had conversed ; over 
 these, and immediately under the massive cornice, extended 
 all round in foot-long capitals the Horatian lines : 
 
 * Nunc veterum libris, nunc somno et inertibus horis 
 Ducere sollicitae jucunda oblivia vitae.' Sat. ii. 6. 
 
 On the mantelpieces and cabinets stood busts of old orators, 
 interspersed with voluptuous vases and bronzes, antique or 
 Italian, and airy statuettes in marble or alabaster, of nude or 
 semi-nude opera nymphs. 
 
 My Lord was now, as he said to his friend Dayrolles, in 
 his grand climacteric, which he declared he would not live 
 to complete. 
 
 ' Fontenelle's last words at a hundred and three,' he 
 wrote, ' were, "Je souffre d'etre /' deaf and infirm as I am, 
 I can with truth say the same thing at sixty-three. In my
 
 168 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 mind, it is only the strength of our passions and the 
 weakness of our reason that make us so fond of life ; but, 
 when the former subside and give way to the latter, we 
 grow weary of being, and willing to withdraw.' 
 
 Dayrolles, to whom these words were addressed, was one 
 of those useful friends who always hang on to great men. 
 He had spent many years of his life in the service of this 
 illustrious Earl, who, when Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland, 
 ' made him Black Rod, and gave the ingenious reason that 
 he had a black face,' as Horace Walpole pleasantly writes. 
 
 Though Lord Chesterfield's manner was what has been 
 described as ' exquisitely elegant ' and polished to the 
 highest degree, yet it failed oftentimes to give those he 
 intended to impress most a belief in his sincerity. ' Garrick 
 was pure gold, but beat out to thin leaf,' said Boswell, 
 epigrammatically, ' but Chesterfield was tinsel,' with which 
 opinion Dr. Johnson agreed, for the burly philosopher had 
 ceased to hold him in esteem since the occurrence of their 
 quarrel, the story of which forms one of the most interesting 
 pages in the history of literature. 
 
 Johnson, before commencing his dictionary, dedicated 
 the 'plan' of it to my Lord Chesterfield, who was then 
 regarded as a distinguished patron of letters ; the noble Earl 
 highly approved of this, and made some useful suggestions 
 which Johnson adopted. It was then the fashion for dedi- 
 cations to be paid for, and my Lord sent Johnson ^10, after 
 which he paid no further attention to the struggling man 
 of letters. He had neglected Garrick, he ignored Sheridan, 
 and behaved to Johnson ' in such a manner,' Boswell says, 
 'as to excite his contempt and indignation.' But there 
 was probably a stronger reason to rouse these feelings in the 
 great lexicographer than mere neglect A story which 
 gained general belief amongst Johnson's friends, and which 
 was authenticated by Lord Lyttelton and Sir John Hawkins, 
 stated that Johnson, on the occasion of a visit to the polite
 
 SAMUEL JOHNSON AND CHESTERFIELD. 169 
 
 Earl, was kept waiting in the antechamber a considerable 
 time, the reason being assigned that his Lordship had 
 company with him. At last the door opened, and out 
 came old Colley Gibber, when Johnson, seeing for whom he 
 had been excluded from his patron's presence, went away in 
 a violent passion, vowing he would return no more. 
 
 ' Gibber, 5 said Lord Lyttelton, ' who had been introduced 
 familiarly by the back-stairs ' (alas for the days of literary 
 patronage !) ' had probably not been there more than ten 
 minutes.' 
 
 Johnson denied the truth of this story, and declared 
 stoutly 'his Lordship's continued neglect was the reason 
 why he resolved to have no connection with him.' However, 
 a reference in his letter to his ' waiting in his (Lord Chester- 
 field's) outer rooms,' would seem to imply there was some 
 foundation for the anecdote. When the dictionary drew 
 near its conclusion, the Earl, who flattered himself Johnson 
 would dedicate his great work to him, wrote some letters to 
 the World, in which, amongst other fine compliments, he 
 declared the public in general, and the republic of letters in 
 particular, were greatly obliged to Mr. Johnson for having 
 undertaken and executed so great and desirable a work. 
 1 And I hereby declare,' he said, with that touching humility 
 which greatness can afford, ' that I make a total surrender 
 of all my rights and privileges in the English language as a 
 free-born British subject, to the said Mr. Johnson, during 
 the term of his dictatorship.' 
 
 This praise failed to have the effect desired by the noble 
 Earl of conciliating the said Mr. Johnson. 
 
 ' When my dictionary was coming out,' said he, speaking 
 of Lord Chesterfield, 'he fell a-scribbling in the World 
 about it Upon which I wrote him a letter.' This, for 
 vigour, style, and expression of independence, is perhaps 
 unequalled by any epistle in our language. 
 
 Some rumour of this letter and its contents got abroad,
 
 170 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 and all men of independent spirit approved of Johnson's 
 conduct But Dodsley, the publisher, was not among these ; 
 he had a share in the dictionary, and believed the noble 
 Earl's patronage might be of consequence. He told his 
 friend, Dr. Adams, the Earl had shown him the ktter. 
 
 ' I should have imagined,' replied Dr. Adams, ' that Lord 
 Chesterfield would have concealed it.' 
 
 ' Pooh !' said the bookseller, with extreme contempt, * do 
 you think a letter from Johnson could hurt Lord Chester- 
 field ? Not at all, sir. It lay upon his table, where anybody 
 might see it. He read it to me ; said, " This man has great 
 powers," pointed out the severest passages, and observed 
 how well they were expressed.' 
 
 In this manner, the noble Lord cleverly concealed the 
 bitterness he felt, and to which he afterwards gave vent in 
 portraying Johnson in the character of the 'respectable 
 Hottentot.' 
 
 Dr. Adams expostulated with Johnson on his severity ; his 
 Lordship, he said, ' would have turned off the best servant he 
 ever had, if he had known that he denied him to a man who 
 would have been always more than welcome.' 
 
 * Sir/ said Johnson, ' that is not Lord Chesterfield ; he is 
 the proudest man this day existing.' 
 
 ' No,' said Dr. Adams ; ' there is one person at least as 
 proud. I think, by your own account, you are the prouder 
 man of the two.' 
 
 'But mine,' replied Johnson, 'was defensive pride.' 
 
 Though my Lord failed to gain the good graces of one 
 whom he slighted as a literary hack, his politeness to the 
 beau monde continued to the last. According to Walpole, 
 the Earl ' took no less pains to be the phoenix of fine gentle- 
 men than Tully did to qualify himself as an orator. Both 
 succeeded,' says Horace, with a quiet sneer. 'Tully im- 
 mortalized his name; Chesterfield's reign lasted a little 
 longer than that of a fashionable beauty.'
 
 1 WE DO NOT OWN IT. 171 
 
 A short time before the worthy Lord's days closed, 
 Monsieur Suard expressed a desire to see Fhomme le plus 
 aimable, le plus poll, et le plus spirituel des trois royaumes. 
 Alas ! he found but a shattered old man. * It is very sad to 
 be deaf when one would so much enjoy listening,' said my 
 Lord, courteous to the last. His visitor shortened his stay, 
 fearful of fatiguing his most polite host ' I do not detain 
 you,' said the Earl cheerfully, ' for I must go and rehearse 
 my funeral. 1 In this manner he referred to his daily drives. 
 A short time before his death, being asked how a con- 
 temporary of his did, he said, ' To tell you the truth, we 
 have both been dead this twelvemonth, but we do not own 
 it* Another proof that his old sense of wit had not 
 departed from him at the close of his life may be men- 
 tioned. His sister, Lady Gertrude Hotham, who had 
 become a strict Methodist, under the guidance of her friend, 
 Lady Huntingdon, becoming anxious concerning the safety 
 of his soul, conceived a scheme of luring him down to one 
 of her seminaries in Wales. When she visited him, she, 
 together with Lady Huntingdon, said nothing of their pious 
 motives, but enlarged on the benefit he would derive from 
 the air, and the general delight which the scenery would 
 afford him, the views were so charming, the mountains so 
 sublime. ' No, ladies,' said my Lord, with a knowing smile. 
 ' I do not love such tremendous prospects. When the faith 
 of your ladyships has removed the mountains, I will go to 
 Wales with all my heart.' Later on his wife, Melusina the 
 daughter of George I. and the infamous old Duchess of 
 Kendal who had grown religious, sent for the Rev. Rowland 
 Hill, but my Lord refused to see the good man, much to my 
 Lady's distress, but she afterwards consoled herself by ap- 
 pointing the Rev. Rowland, whose eloquence she vastly 
 admired, as her chaplain, when he preached to pious 
 assemblies at Chesterfield House. When, in March, 1773, 
 the Earl lay in the agonies of death, his old friend Dayrolles
 
 172 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 entered the room softly ; but my Lord heard him, and, turn- 
 ing to his valet, gasped out the words, 'Give Dayrolles a 
 chair.' The ruling trait of courtesy was strong in death. 
 
 My Lord made a remarkable will, in which he declared 
 that, ' satiated with the pompous follies of this life, of which 
 I have had an uncommon share, I would have no posthumous 
 ones displayed at my funeral, and therefore desire to be 
 buried in the next burying-place to the place where I shall 
 die, and limit the whole expense of my funeral to^ioo.' 
 
 He bequeathed his property to his godson, Philip Stan- 
 hope, on whom he thought it necessary to place certain 
 restraints. 
 
 'In case my said godson, Philip Stanhope,' he said, 'shall 
 at any time hereinafter keep, or be concerned in keeping of, 
 any race-horses or packs of hounds, or reside one night at 
 Newmarket, that infamous seminary of iniquity and ill- 
 manners, during the course of the races there, or shall resort 
 to the said races, or shall lose in any one day, at any one 
 game or bet whatsoever, the sum of ^500, then, in any the 
 cases aforesaid, it is my express will that he, my said godson, 
 shall forfeit and pay, out of my estate, the sum of ^5,000 to 
 and for the use of the Dean and Chapter of Westminster.' 
 
 The Earl died satisfied with the belief that he could, as he 
 said, ' trust to the want of lenity ' of the Dean and Chapter 
 of Westminster. But there was yet a better clause in his will. 
 To his servants he left two years' wages. ' I consider them, 
 said my Lord, ' as unfortunate friends ; my equals by nature, 
 and my inferiors only in the difference of our fortunes. 
 This was, perhaps, one of the most gracious sentences to 
 which the noble courtier ever gave expression. 
 
 A friend and contemporary of Chesterfield's, Horace 
 Walpole, survived him almost twenty years. This amiable 
 cynic, to whose facile pen we owe such delightful glimpses 
 of social life in the eighteenth century, now lived in elegant 
 ease at Strawberry Hill, in the Gothic Castle, which had
 
 AT STRAWBERRY HILL. 173 
 
 taken him twenty-three years to complete. He speaks of it 
 as the prettiest bauble possible, ' set in enamelled meadows 
 in filigree hedges.' To this court by the placid Thames, 
 ruled over by one whose word was omnipotent in all things 
 connected with art and literature, came a throng of noble 
 lords and ladies fine, princes, poets, and players, authors and 
 artists, philosophers, adventurers, literary hacks, wits, and 
 even royalty itself. For each of these Horace had an 
 appropriate word, a graceful bow, a pleasant smile, and 
 delighted all of them with his gentle, affable manners. 
 
 'Not the smallest hauteur or consciousness of rank 
 appeared in his familiar conferences,' says the editor of 
 Wdlpoliana, ' and he was ever eager to dissipate any con- 
 straint that might occur, as imposing a constraint upon him- 
 self, and knowing that any such chain enfeebles and almost 
 annihilates the mental powers. Endued with exquisite 
 sensibility, his wit never gave the smallest wound, even to 
 the grossest ignorance of the world, or the most morbid 
 hypochondriac bashfulness.' 
 
 The owner of Strawberry Hill which he called an inn, 
 the sign of the Gothic Castle was never so happy as when 
 showing a batch of visitors through his wonderful rooms, 
 which were stored with objects of art gathered from every 
 quarter of the globe ; his tall, lank figure bowing as he 
 gave utterance to a finely-polished phrase, or received 
 some pretty compliment on the justness of his taste ; his 
 dark, penetrating eyes lighting up the unhealthy pallor of 
 his face. He was seldom without visitors eager to see his 
 curiosities. 
 
 ' I have given my assembly to show my Gallery, and it was 
 glorious,' he writes, ' but, happening to pitch upon the feast 
 of tabernacles, none of my Jews could come, though Mrs. 
 Clive proposed to them to change their religion ; so I am 
 forced to exhibit once more. For the morning spectators, 
 the crowd augments, instead of diminishing. It is really
 
 174 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 true that Lady Hertford called here t'other morning, and I 
 was reduced to bring her by the back gate into the kitchen , 
 the house was so full of company that came to see the 
 Gallery, that I had nowhere else to carry her.' 
 
 With what pleasant pride he would point to Cavalini's 
 wondrous shrine in mosaic, that had stood above the sepul- 
 chre of four holy martyrs in the church of St Mary Maggiore 
 in Rome ; to Torregiano's famous bust of Henry VIII. ; to 
 the armour of Francis I., or to the famous collection of por- 
 traits in his gallery ; and with what delight he would read 
 some specially favoured visitors a page from his manuscripts, 
 or a poem set up by his own hands, fresh from his press. 
 Here one day he read his ' tragedy of the highest order,' to 
 quote the author of ' Don Juan,' ' The Mysterious Mother,' 
 to a trio of fair and favourite ladies, assembled for the 
 purpose to wit, Lady Ay lesbury, Lady Lyttelton, and Miss 
 Rich ; what terms of graceful appreciation they must have 
 uttered, what courtly compliments they must have paid him ! 
 all of which he accepted as his due, for he entertained no 
 poor opinion of his work. 
 
 ' I am not yet intoxicated enough with it,' he writes of the 
 tragedy, ' to think it would do for the stage, though I wish 
 to see it acted ; but, as Mrs. Pritchard leaves the stage next 
 month, I know nobody could play the Countess ; nor am I 
 disposed to expose myself to the impertinences of that 
 jackanapes Garrick, who lets nothing appear but his own 
 wretched stuff, or that of creatures still duller, who suffer him 
 to alter their pieces as he pleases.' 
 
 Though ' the father of the first romance and of the last 
 tragedy in our language,' as Lord Byron styles him, conde- 
 scended to become an author by way of pas sing his elegant 
 leisure, or diverting his friends, he regarded professional 
 men of letters with a contempt which he did not care to 
 disguise. *I shun authors,' he wrote, 'and would never 
 have been one myself, if it obliged me to keep such bad
 
 FIGHTING FOR FAME. 175 
 
 company. They are always in earnest, and think their pro- 
 fession serious, and dwell upon trifles, and reverence learn- 
 ing. I laugh at these things, and divert myself.' 
 
 Through his long life he never extended encourage- 
 ment or help to one of the struggling herd, and his 
 neglect of Chatterton must ever stand as a reproach to 
 his memory. 
 
 In 1769, the marvellous boy wrote to the polite and 
 learned Mr. Walpole, offering to furnish him with some 
 account of eminent painters who had lived in Bristol, and 
 enclosing some specimens of old poems, which he avowed 
 he had discovered in an ancient chest in St. Mary Redcliffe 
 Church, of which his uncle was sexton. This edifice was 
 rebuilt in the reign of Edward IV. by one Thomas Canynge, 
 merchant, who, with his friend, Thomas Rowley, a priest, 
 Chatterton stated, had written the poems in question. The 
 ingenious story was solely the fabrication of a highly imagi- 
 native boy, then in his seventeenth year, and the verses were 
 the most extraordinary forgeries in the chronicles of litera- 
 ture. Chatterton also begged Walpole to help him to free 
 himself from the drudgery of his employment as apprentice 
 to a scrivener, a labour abhorrent to his temperament, and 
 from which he longed to escape. 
 
 At first Horace believed the quaint poems, writ on strips 
 of vellum, were the genuine productions of a past age, until 
 his friends, Gray and Mason, poets both, laughed at his 
 credulity, when, indignant at the deception sought to be 
 practised upon him, he sent a cold, chiding letter to the boy- 
 poet. Chatterton wrote demanding the poems, which Wal- 
 pole had forgotten to enclose ; they were then returned, but 
 without a line. In a little while the young poet forced his 
 way into the great wilderness of London, full of high hopes 
 and great ambitions, anxious, with the ready impulse of 
 youth, to commence that battle for literary fame which was 
 so soon to end in despair and death.
 
 176 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 ' I get four guineas a month by one magazine,' he wrote, 
 in the first flush of his hopes, to his poor mother in Bristol ; 
 ' shall engage to write a history of England and other pieces, 
 which will more than double that sum. Occasional essays 
 for the daily papers would more than support me. What a 
 glorious prospect. ... I am quite familiar at the Chapter 
 Coffee-house, and know all the geniuses there. . . . Bris- 
 tol's mercenary walls were never destined to hold me 
 there I was out of my element ; now in it. London ! 
 Good God ! how superior is London to that despicable 
 place, Bristol !' 
 
 Poor boy, his fight for daily bread was vigorous, though 
 brief. He got two shillings for a newspaper article, wrote 
 sixteen songs for ten and sixpence, sent articles to magazines, 
 and, whilst starving, wrote a burlesque burletta think of the 
 irony of such a fate. For four months he struggled before 
 giving up all hope, living on a halfpenny roll or a penny tart 
 a day, with perhaps an occasional sheep's tongue. Youth is 
 strong, and hunger slow to kill, but at last the end came; he 
 had remained for three days without food ; on the morning 
 of the fourth day he was discovered dead in a wretched 
 garret of a house in a little street out of Holborn, with the 
 cup which held the arsenic and water he had drunk 
 clutched in his hand. He did not live to complete his 
 eighteenth year. 
 
 The first intimation Walpole received of his death was 
 whilst he was present at the first Academy dinner, sur 
 rounded by Sir Joshua Reynolds, Goldsmith, Johnson, 
 Burke, and other luminaries. Goldsmith commenced to 
 speak of the Rowley poems, and presently Walpole asked 
 about Chatterton, when honest Oliver told him regretfully 
 the lad had destroyed himself. He was startled, and per- 
 haps conscience-stricken. 'The persons of honour and 
 veracity who were present,' he wrote afterwards, ' will attest
 
 KITTY CLWE. 177 
 
 with what surprise and concern I thus first heard of his 
 death.' 
 
 But no doubt he soon forgot this painful occurrence in an 
 existence constantly busy with the small things of life and 
 brightened by the society of so many remarkable friends ; 
 for not only were his visitors pleasant and distinguished, but 
 so were his immediate neighbours. The Countess of Suffolk, 
 the famous mistress of George II., spent her last days, which 
 were included in the first decade of the new reign, in the 
 seclusion of Marble Hill, which was later on occupied by 
 Mrs. Fitzherbert, wife of George IV. ; her eccentric Grace 
 of Queensberry, the friend of Swift and patroness of Gay, 
 was merely divided from him by the gentle waters of the 
 Thames ; that charming actress and fascinating woman, 
 Mrs. Abingdon, dwelt at Twickenham, and the lively 
 Kitty Clive, together with her brother, lived in a house on 
 Walpole's property, which he was pleased to facetiously call 
 Cliveden. 
 
 ' I have quitted the stage, and Clive is preparing to leave 
 it,' he wrote to George Montagu. ' We shall neither of us 
 ever be grave ; dowagers roost all round us, and you could 
 never want cards or mirth.' 
 
 Mrs. Clive, indeed, wrote to her friend Colman that ' vexa- 
 tion and fretting in the theatre are the foundation of all 
 Billou's complaints.' She declared she spoke ' by expeari- 
 ance,' and that she was fretted by managers ' till my gaul 
 overflow'd like the river Nile ;' she therefore sought timely 
 repose in Twickenham. Walpole thoroughly appreciated 
 the society of Mistress Clive, who had, according to Gold- 
 smith, more true humour than any actor or actress on the 
 English stage. 
 
 ' All the morning I play with my workmen or animals/ 
 he writes, 'go regularly every morning to the meadows 
 with Mrs. Clive, or sit with my Lady Suffolk, and at night I 
 scribble.' 
 
 ** 12
 
 17$ COURT LtFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 The actress's name often occurs in his letters, and ever in 
 a pleasant and gracious manner. ' Strawberry is in perfec- 
 tion,' he writes to his friend, George Montagu ; ' the verdure 
 has all the bloom of spring, the orange-trees are loaded with 
 blossoms, the Gallery all sun and gold, Mrs. Clive all sun 
 and vermilion.' 
 
 In the year 1785, the merry-hearted actress quitted this 
 world's stage for ever. 
 
 ' My poor old friend is a great loss,' Walpole wrote. He 
 had played cards with her but a few nights before ; then 
 she caught cold. ' On the Wednesday morning she rose to 
 have her bed made, and whilst sitting on it, with her maid 
 by her, sunk down at once, and died without a pang or a 
 groan.' 
 
 Some time after her death, Cliveden had new tenants in 
 the persons of Mr. Berry and his two daughters, gentle and 
 amiable women, who in good time became his most valued 
 friends. Mary's countenance he describes as pale, with dark 
 eyes, and an interesting expression ; she was ' an angel inside 
 and out' Agnes, the younger, was 'hardly to be called 
 handsome, but almost,' and they dressed, he adds, ' within 
 the bounds of fashion, but without the excrescences and 
 balconies with which modern hoydens overwhelm and barri- 
 cade their persons.' The elder understood Latin and spoke 
 French fluently ; the younger was an artist It was not, 
 however, on account of their accomplishments, so much as 
 their quiet and graceful manners, that Horace Walpole 
 became interested in them ; there was, moreover, a story 
 connected with their family that had a flavour of romance, 
 which was in itself a rare charm to one whom knowledge of 
 the world had made a cynic. 
 
 The grandfather of these ladies had an estate of ^5,000 
 a year, but disinherited his son because he had married a 
 penniless woman. She died after giving birth to two 
 daughters, and the grandfather, desiring an heir male, pressed
 
 HORACE W ALP OLE S LAST YEARS. 179 
 
 the widower to marry again. This he refused to do; he 
 remained true to the memory of his first wife, and devoted 
 his days to the education of his daughters. The property 
 was therefore made over to the second son, who allowed his 
 brother ^800 a year, a sum that enabled him to take the 
 two girls to the Continent, where they received an education 
 which rendered them accomplished women. 
 
 To each of them Horace Walpole successively offered his 
 hand, which neither of them accepted, though there was 
 then a probability, which afterwards became a certainty, that 
 such a marriage would raise his wife to the peerage ; but 
 their refusal did not prevent them from sharing the solitude 
 of his later years, and he was seldom more happy than when 
 in the society of his ' two Straw Berries,' as he named them. 
 
 For many years previous to his death, he suffered a 
 martyrdom from gout and the ills of old age ; yet, though 
 his hands and feet were crippled, his spirits were always gay, 
 and his wit retained all its old brilliancy. When able to 
 hold a pen in his hand, he continued to correspond with 
 his friends, a pastime that afforded him almost as much 
 delight as it did those he favoured with his celebrated letters. 
 He rose late, passed the forenoon in his gardens, or in 
 reading ; then dined sparingly off chicken, pheasant, or any 
 light food, seldom drinking wine ; his favourite beverage 
 being ice-water, which stood in a decanter placed in a pail of 
 ice under the table. After dinner he was assisted upstairs 
 to the library by his valet ; being now unable to enter a room 
 ' in that style of affected delicacy ' of which Miss Hawkins 
 speaks, ' chapeau bras between his hands, as if he wished to 
 compress it or under his arm knees bent and feet on the 
 tiptoe, as if afraid of a wet floor.' 
 
 In the library, enriched with rare and handsomely bound 
 volumes, crowded with objects of art, and fragrant with 
 caraway or orange-trees in bloom, coffee was served; and 
 here Horace, lying on a couch, conversed with his charming 
 
 13 2
 
 i8o 'COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 neighbours, detailing, in his vivacious manner, some recent 
 town gossip, or relating to them remarkable anecdotes of 
 men and women of note whom he had known in former 
 reigns. After dinner he touched no more food for the day ; 
 but ' the snuff-box of tabac d'etrennes from Fribourg's was not 
 forgotten, and was replenished from a canister lodged in an 
 ancient marble urn of great thickness, which stood in the 
 window-seat, and served to secure its moisture and rich 
 flavour.' He wore his age with dignity and cheerfulness ; 
 nay, he even jested at his weight of years. 
 
 ' Since all my fingers are useless, and that I have only six 
 hairs left, I am not very much grieved at not being able to 
 comb my head,' he writes ; and presently, when, by the death 
 -of his nephew, he became a peer of the realm, he supposed he 
 would be styled Lord Methusalem. To be within convenient 
 reach of his doctors, he left Strawberry Hill the work of so 
 many years, the realization of so many hopes, the subject of 
 so much gossip, the scene where so many illustrious visitors 
 had gathered never to see it again. He moved to Berkeley 
 Square, from where he wrote to the Countess of Ossory, a 
 couple of months before his death : 
 
 * I scarce go out of my own house, and then only to two 
 or three very private places, where I see nobody that really 
 knows anything, and what I learn comes from newspapers 
 that collect intelligence from coffee-houses; consequently 
 what I neither believe nor report. At home I see only a 
 few charitable elders, except about four-score nephews and 
 nieces of various ages, who are each brought to me about 
 once a year, to stare at me as the Methusalem of the 
 family, and they can only speak of their own contemporaries, 
 which interest me no more than if they talked of their dolls, 
 or bats and balls. 1 
 
 During the last weeks of his life, the wit which had 
 enlivened two generations dwindled into darkness. He died 
 on March a, 1797, in the eightieth year of his age.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 George Selwyn, morbid and tender-hearted Dr. Dodd The 
 Marchese Fagniani Topham Beauclerk and Dr. Johnson 
 A Morning's Adventure Lady Diana and her Spouse 
 Nancy Parsons and the Duke of Grafton Further Adven- 
 tures of Nancy Lord Maynard Mad Tom Hervey and 
 his Letters Elopement of Lady Susan Strangways with an 
 Actor Marriage of Lady Henrietta Wentworth and her 
 Footman. 
 
 THOUGH Walpole hated many and liked few, he declared he 
 ' really loved ' George Selwyn, ' not only for his infinite wit, 
 but for a thousand good qualities ;' and this appreciation 
 was shared by all who knew Selwyn. Witty, eccentric, at 
 once a lover of horrors and of little children, a man about 
 town, an exquisite beau, his various-sided character presented 
 an anomaly which puzzled many. He was a courtier, a 
 frequenter of all fashionable assemblies, and a member of 
 many clubs. His friends, indeed, were legion, and his name 
 was ever on their lips and in their letters ; repeating a choice 
 specimen of his wit or repartee, recounting some eccentric 
 escapade, or dwelling on those traits of good fellowship which 
 rendered him loved by all. His humour was not of that 
 flagrant description destined to set a table in a roar, but 
 rather vented itself in neat, pointed phrases, which were 
 uttered with a quaintness and simplicity of facial expression 
 that added considerably to their effect ; a few examples 
 selected from an abundant collection preserved by Walpole 
 will suffice to show their general style.
 
 182 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 One day when he, who ' had a passion for seeing coffins, 
 corpses, and executions,' was asked why he had not been 
 present to witness the death of Charles Fox, a malefactor 
 who ended his evil days on the gallows, he calmly replied 
 that he made a point of never going to rehearsals. He made 
 another joke against his personal friend Fox when a public 
 subscription was spoken of, for the purpose of paying his 
 debts ; some one speaking to Selwyn on the subject wondered 
 ' how Fox would take it' ' Take it !' replied George 
 promptly, ' why, quarterly,* of course.' The statesman, in- 
 deed, was often the subject of that ready wit, always spark- 
 ling, though never severe, which he did not the less appre- 
 ciate for its being personal. Once at Brooks' Club, Fox 
 was speaking of the successful peace he had made with 
 France, and boasted that he had induced that country to 
 give up the gum trade to England. ' That, Charles, I am 
 not at all surprised at,' replied Selwyn ; ' for, having drawn 
 your teeth, they would be damned fools to trouble about 
 your gums.' 
 
 One more saying of his regarding Sir Joshua Reynolds is 
 worth repeating. When it was reported that the great 
 painter was to stand for Plympton at the next election, the 
 fine gentlemen laughed and made merry at the idea of an 
 artist presuming to offer himself as a representative for Par- 
 liamentary honours. ' He is not to be laughed at, however,' 
 said George, in his most solemn tone ; ' he may very well 
 succeed in being elected, for Sir Joshua is the ablest man I 
 know on a canvas !' 
 
 White's Club was the chief rendezvous of Selwyn and his 
 jovial friends, Charles Fox, Gilly Williams, Charles Towns- 
 hend, Dick Edgecombe, Topham Beauclerk, and Rigby, 
 ' an excellent bon vivant, having all the gibes and gambols 
 and flashes of merriment which set the table in a roar.' Here 
 in the last reign my Lord Chesterfield had gambled, Bubb 
 Dodington had babbled of his intimacy with Frederick, Prince
 
 AT WHITES CLUB. 183 
 
 of Wales who borrowed large sums from his dupe and then 
 laughed at him and old Colley Gibber, poet-laureate and 
 player, ' feasted most sumptuously with Mr. Victor and his 
 wife, and gave a trifle for his dinner ;' and here in the 
 present reign, wits, politicians, and beaux made ludicrous 
 bets, drank deep, and half ruined themselves over dice and 
 cards. 
 
 It was at White's that a waiter came up to Selwyn one 
 day in a hurried manner, and whispered to him confidentially, 
 ' Mr. Walpole's compliments, and he has got a housebreaker 
 for you ;' at which news the wit started up and hastened 
 with all speed to his friend, who had such a rare treat in 
 store for him. Selwyn's love of criminals was indeed well 
 known, and he seldom lost an opportunity of visiting them 
 in prison, or being present at their executions. His morbid 
 love for these exhibitions carried him on one occasion so far 
 as Paris, where he went to behold Damiens, who had at- 
 tempted the assassination of Louis XV., torn with red-hot 
 pincers, and finally rent in quarters by four horses. On the 
 day of the execution, Selwyn, plainly dressed to avoid notice, 
 mingled with the crowd, but managed to get close to the 
 scaffold, when the executioner, noticing and recognising 
 him, cried out, ' Make way for monsieur ; he is an English 
 amateur.' The deaths of criminals in merry England were 
 invariably witnessed by enormous numbers, for whom bal- 
 conies and stands were erected ; and these crowds were not 
 only composed of the middle and lower classes, who re- 
 garded such sights as interesting tragedies provided by Provi- 
 dence for their better amusement, but by large contingents 
 of fine gentlemen and ladies of high degree. 
 
 Such exhibitions were, however, occasionally rendered 
 revolting by the general air of festivity with which they were 
 accompanied. Sometimes the criminals on their way to 
 execution exchanged jests and witticisms with the crowd, or 
 Decked themselves with ribbons and flpwers, to indicate tha.t
 
 184 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 they met their fate with a brave front When Elizabeth 
 Herring, in 1773, was sentenced to be strangled and burned 
 for the murder of her husband, she was conveyed to Tyburn 
 in a hurdle drawn by four horses gaily decked with streamers 
 and ornamented with the boughs of trees and garlands of 
 evergreens. Selwyn considered life worth living for the 
 purpose of witnessing such tragedies, and, whenever one of 
 them took place during his unavoidable absence from town, 
 his friends were certain to write him a full account of the 
 proceedings. 
 
 4 Lord Harrington's porter,' who, by the way, rejoiced in 
 the name of Whisket, ' was condemned yesterday,' writes 
 Gilly Williams to the wit. ' Cadogan and I have already 
 bespoken places at the Brazier's, and I hope Parson Digby 
 will come time enough to be of the party. I presume we 
 shall have your honour's company, if your stomach is not 
 too squeamish for a single swing.' Subsequently the same 
 writer adds, ' I give a breakfast on Wednesday next, the 
 morning the porter makes his exit If Parson Digby is in 
 town, I shall send him a card ; he is our Ordinary on all 
 these great occasions.' 
 
 This criminal, whose exit was looked forward to with such 
 evident relish, had robbed his master of ,3,000, and his 
 trial caused a considerable sensation in town. George 
 Selwyn was in Paris at the time, but received a description 
 of the tragedy from the Hon. Henry St. John, a beau whom 
 his friends, in reference to his name, irreligiously called 'the 
 Baptist.' 
 
 ' I should not,' said this individual, ' have intruded on the 
 gay moments you now pass your time in, had not my brother 
 intimated to me your obliging request of hearing from me ; 
 and what served to encourage my writing was the curiosity 
 which you expressed to hear of Whisket's execution, which 
 my brother and I went to see, at the risk of breaking our 
 necks by climbing up an old rotten scaffolding, which I
 
 ' THE DOG DIED GAME.' 185 
 
 feared would tumble before the cart drove off with the six 
 malefactors. However, we escaped, and had a full view of 
 Mr. Whisket, who went to the gallows with a white cockade 
 in his hat, as an emblem of his innocence, and died with 
 the same hardness as appeared through his whole trial I 
 hope you have had good sport at the Place de Greve ' (the 
 scene of criminal executions in Paris at that time) ' to make 
 up for losing the sight of the execution of so notorious a 
 villain as Lord Harrington's porter.' 
 
 Gilly Williams, who, with his friends, enjoyed himself on 
 the occasion, wrote Selwyn a few minor particulars. ' The 
 dog died game,' he says ; ' went in the cart in a blue and 
 gold frock, and, as an emblem of innocence, had a white 
 cockade in his hat. He ate several oranges in his passage, 
 inquired if his hearse was ready, and then, as old Rowe used 
 to say, was launched into eternity.' 
 
 Another interesting execution which George Selwyn was 
 prevented by absence from attending was that of Dr. Dodd, 
 a graphic account of which, however, was duly forwarded 
 him. Dr. Dodd was a celebrated and fashionable preacher, 
 who married a woman who may be said to have had aristo- 
 cratic connections ; one of these, Lord Sandwich, was her 
 professed lover ; this little fact, however, was overlooked by 
 the learned divine, who was not over-strict in his morals or 
 prejudices, and who hoped by this alliance to gain my Lord's 
 interest, and so forward his own ambitious views. The doctor 
 had luxurious tastes, and was a man of pleasure and gallantry, 
 whose eloquence in the pulpit was only equalled by his 
 social and eminently fascinating qualities in society ; more- 
 over, he was the founder of a charity for discharging pri- 
 soners confined for debts, and the promoter of many others 
 equally merciful. His numerous good traits rendered him 
 an especial favourite with the fair sex, and his piety was 
 accounted sufficiently exalted to gain him an appointment as 
 one of the chaplains whose discourses were destined to edify
 
 1 86 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS, 
 
 royal ears. But his income, though aided by the contribu- 
 tions of pious matrons and others, whom his ministrations 
 much comforted, was by no means sufficient to meet his 
 expenses, which were considerable, or to satisfy his ambi- 
 tions, which were great. He was, however, a man possess- 
 ing so much ingenuity, that it ultimately led him not only 
 into temptation, but to the gallows. 
 
 An instance of his peculiar talent occurred when there 
 was a vacancy in the rectory of St George's, Hanover 
 Square ; the nomination lay in the power of Lady Apsley, 
 wife to the Lord Chancellor, to whom Dr. Dodd wrote 
 anonymously, offering her the sum of .3,000 if he were 
 appointed rector. This proposal, if made during the pre- 
 vious two reigns, would have been regarded as a fair piece 
 of business, and the divine would have gained the post if no 
 other reverend gentleman outbid him, but now it was quite 
 different ; matters ecclesiastical were dealt with in another 
 way. Therefore, my Lady handed the letter to her lord, 
 who in turn showed it to his King, whereon His Majesty, 
 in great wrath, struck the name of this light of the Church, 
 to whom the epistle was traced, off the list of his royal chap- 
 lains. 
 
 He survived the royal displeasure unfortunately ; and, 
 indeed, so little heeded the warning which this indiscretion 
 should have given him, that in an evil hour, whilst beset with 
 debt and difficulties, he forged a draught for ^4,200 on 
 young Lord Chesterfield, whose tutor he had been ; this was 
 quickly found out, when he was arrested and brought to 
 justice. The discovery may have been hastened by the 
 fact that he had on a former occasion been mixed up with 
 a little money matter by which he had striven to benefit 
 himself; this was when my Lord Chesterfield gave him a 
 bond of ;i,ooo for a lady whose society he no longer 
 desired ; the doctor obligingly cashed the bill, gave the fair 
 one .100, and kept ^900 for his trouble.
 
 EXIT DR. DODD. 187 
 
 At his trial for forgery he fainted, confessed his guilt, 
 expressed his love of life and his hope for pardon, and 
 betrayed agonies of grief and fear. The Bishop of Bristol, 
 who, it may be noted, was by no means so famous for his 
 eloquence as the guilty doctor, declared, with episcopal 
 mercy, he was sorry the wretched man should be hanged 'for 
 the least crime he ever committed.' 
 
 The doctor's fair devotees were more humane ; they set 
 forth his charities, his learning, his courtesy, and his 
 eloquence, which they had never been able to withstand; the 
 Methodists, with whom he had been connected, also took 
 up his cause with zeal ; prayed for his safe deliverance, and, 
 when their prayers had no avail with heaven, besought the 
 throne to spare his life. However, on this occasion, the 
 throne proved deaf to their address, and sentence of death 
 was passed on Dr. Dodd. But the Methodists did not yet 
 despair ; again they begged the royal mercy in a petition 
 signed by twenty-three thousand persons; the King remained 
 unmoved, and justice took its unflinching way. Anthony 
 Morris Storer forwarded the minute details of the execution 
 to George Selwyn, and his letter gives an apt illustration of 
 the period. 
 
 ' I should be very inclinable to obey your commands 
 which Lord March delivered me,' says this worthy corre- 
 spondent, 'respecting the fate of the unfortunate divine, but 
 though an eye-witness of his execution, as I never was at one 
 before, I hardly know what to say respecting his behaviour. 
 Upon the whole, the piece was not very full of events. The 
 doctor, to all appearance, was rendered perfectly stupid from 
 despair. His hat was flapped all round, and pulled over his 
 eyes, which were never directed to any object around, nor 
 even raised, except now and then lifted up in the course of 
 his prayers. He came in a coach, and a very heavy shower 
 of rain fell just upon his entering the cart, and another just 
 at his putting on his night-cap.
 
 188 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 ' He was a very considerable time in praying, which some 
 people standing about seemed rather tired with ; they rather 
 wished for some more interesting part of the tragedy. The 
 wind, which was high, blew off his hat, which rather em- 
 barrassed him, and discovered to us his countenance, which 
 we could scarcely see before. His hat, however, was soon 
 restored to him, and he went on with his prayers. There 
 were two clergymen attending him, one of whom seemed 
 very much affected. The other, I suppose, was the Ordinary 
 of Newgate, as he was perfectly indifferent and unfeeling in 
 everything that he said and did. The executioner took both 
 the hat and wig off at the same time. Why he put on his 
 wig again, I do not know, but he did, and the doctor took 
 off his wig a second time, and then tied on a night-cap, 
 which did not fit him ; but whether he stretched that, or 
 took another, I could not perceive. He then put on his 
 night-cap himself, and upon his taking it he certainly had a 
 smile on his countenance, and very soon afterwards there 
 was an end of all his hopes and fears on this side the 
 grave. He never moved from the first place he took in the 
 cart ; seemed absorbed in despair, and utterly dejected, 
 without any other signs of animation but in praying. A 
 vast number of people were collected, as you may imagine.' 
 
 The love and tenderness which Selwyn betrayed for the 
 children of his friends was a singular contrast to his delight 
 in things morbid. His affection was especially shown to 
 two children, one of whom was Anne, daughter of the 
 Countess of Coventry, the once beautiful Maria Gunning. 
 Little Lady Anne, whom Selwyn's friends in their corre- 
 spondence refer to as ' your child,' was left motherless at the 
 age of four, from which time Selwyn treated her with the 
 greatest affection and care. Her spirit was ' much beyond 
 her late mamma's,' as Gilly Williams writes to his friend. 
 
 Selwyn's second protegee was Maria Fagniani, known as 
 Mie Mie. This latter was the daughter of an Italian noble-
 
 SELWYN AND MIE MIE. 189 
 
 man, the Marchese Fagniani, and his wife, a handsome, 
 artful woman, fond of intrigue and money ; tastes which are 
 often found together. George Selwyn considered himself 
 the father of Mie Mie, and the same relationship was like- 
 wise claimed by the profligate Lord March, the pretensions 
 of each being alternately, not only admitted, but encouraged 
 by the frail and charming Marchioness, who, looking to the 
 future, beheld a profitable result from this joint paternity. 
 Selwyn was, however, the most favoured of the claimants, 
 and Mie Mie was entrusted to his bachelor care when little 
 more than an infant, the Marchioness and her spouse taking 
 their way to the Continent. After a while, the child was 
 claimed by her mother, simply because her husband's parents 
 objected to their grandchild being left in England ; besides, 
 the arrangement, madame considered, might throw doubts 
 on the sanctity of her reputation in the eyes of a vicious and 
 sadly censorious world. 
 
 Nothing could exceed Selwyn's grief at the prospect of 
 being parted from this little charge, on whom he lavished 
 more than a parent's love. 
 
 * I am aware,' wrote the Marchioness, ' that the separation 
 will cost you much; but prepare for it with courage, for 
 there is no help for it' 
 
 Selwyn hesitated to give up the child, and the mother 
 wrote again : 
 
 ' I have never doubted your good faith, and have given 
 proof of this by leaving London without the child, contrary 
 to the advice of everyone, and in opposition to the orders of 
 my parents ; indeed, your own countrymen assured me that 
 you would never return me the child after I was gone.' 
 
 Later on, her language became stronger, and she 
 characterized his conduct as ' devilish ;' indeed, she and the 
 Marchese were on the point of starting for England, to carry 
 away Mie Mie, before George consented to part with her. 
 He confided her to the care of his confidential man-servant,
 
 I9d COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 had a carriage specially built for her to travel in, and wrote 
 out a list of the best hotels where he wished her to stay on 
 her journey. His grief at her absence was vehement, and 
 he received the genuine sympathy of his friends of both 
 sexes on his loss 
 
 ' I wish very much we were in town,' writes Lord Carlisle, 
 ' because you think we could console you. Gregg writes me 
 word that he has seen you, and makes me very unhappy by 
 his account of you. He tells me you are dejected to the 
 greatest degree, with several other circumstances that give 
 me dreadful apprehensions of your health.' 
 
 Mie Mie, after a time, was restored to his care, and soon 
 blossomed into a young woman, when she was duly pre- 
 sented at Court ; a ceremony of which Storer writes to Lord 
 Auckland : 
 
 'A great event has taken place in Selwyn's family. 
 Mademoiselle Fagniani has been presented at Court Of 
 course Miss Fagniani for she was presented as a subject of 
 Great Britain was very splendid; but George was most 
 magnificent, and new in every article of dress.' 
 
 Amongst George Selwyn's friends were two men whose 
 names constantly occur in the literature of the day ; these 
 were Frederick, Viscount Bolingbroke, and Topham Beau- 
 clerk. The former was a lord of the bed-chamber, and a 
 man of fashion and gallantry ; the latter was one of the 
 great-grandsons of Charles II., who early in life earned for 
 himself the reputation of a man who loved wit and learning, 
 folly and intrigue. His manners had something of the courtli- 
 ness of his royal progenitor, whom his appearance resembled, 
 and his conversation sparkled with humour and satire. 
 
 * Everything comes from him so easily,' says Dr. Johnson, 
 'it appears to me I labour when I say a good thing.' The 
 great man had met Beauclerk at Oxford, where, according to 
 Boswell, the doctor became fascinated with him, and where 
 1 the moral, pious Johnson, and the gay, dissipated Bcauclerk
 
 THREE MERRY MEN. tgi 
 
 were companions.' This singular friendship, formed between 
 a young man of fashion and a philosopher in a scratch wig, 
 afforded them mutual pleasure, and Beauclerk became one 
 of the earliest members of Johnson's famous literary club. 
 No one could take more liberty than Beauclerk with the 
 learned doctor, who contradicted Boswell, chided Goldsmith, 
 and spoke sharp words to Garrick, but who was unusually 
 lenient to his young friend. 
 
 Knowing this, Beauclerk, on one occasion when he had 
 supped at a tavern with his friend Bennet Langton, and 
 remained up till three o'clock in the morning, bethought him 
 of calling on the doctor, and inviting him to join them in a 
 ramble. Accordingly they went, and soundly hammered at 
 the door of the philosopher's chambers at this unseemly 
 hour, until at last the gaunt figure of the doctor appeared at 
 the window in his shirt, with a little black wig on the top of 
 his head, and a poker in his hand, prepared to do fierce 
 battle, if necessary, with disturbing thieves. When he saw 
 his friends, he laid aside his weapon of defence, and listened 
 calmly to their proposal. ' What, is it you, you dogs ? I'll 
 have a frisk with you,' he said, almost as merry as they ; and 
 presently, when he had dressed, the three sallied forth in 
 search of adventure, all so gaily oh, before the break of day ; 
 they turned them into Covent Garden, where the fruiterers 
 and greengrocers were arranging their hampers just arrived 
 from the country, when the learned, but burly doctor made 
 some attempts to help them. But, the honest marketmen 
 eyeing him with grave suspicion, he and his friends soon 
 thought it better to move on towards the brighter and better 
 sphere of a neighbouring tavern, where Johnson made a 
 bowl of bishop, a mixture of wines, oranges, and sugar, 
 which he dearly loved, and over which he roared out some 
 verses of Lord Lansdowne's famous drinking-song ; after this, 
 they took a boat and rowed to Billingsgate. Indeed, they 
 were so pleased with their amusement that Johnson and
 
 192 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 Beauclerk were resolved to spend the rest of the daji 
 Boswell says, in dissipation ; but Langton, pleading an 
 engagement to breakfast with some young ladies, determined 
 to leave them, at which conduct the doctor scolded him for 
 deserting ^ his social friends to go and sit with a set of 
 wretched un-idea'd girls.' 
 
 But, though Johnson readily joined in such a harmless 
 prank as this, he did not shut his eyes to his friend's faults. 
 'Thy body is all vice, and thy mind all virtue,' he once 
 remarked to him, when Beauclerk not seeming exactly to 
 appreciate the compliment, the doctor said : 
 
 ' Nay, sir, Alexander the Great, marching in triumph into 
 Babylon, could not have desired to have had more said to 
 him.' 
 
 In making this remark, it is probable that Johnson 
 referred to Beauclerk's well-known intrigue with Lady Diana 
 Bolingbroke. Her Ladyship was the eldest daughter of 
 Charles, second Duke of Marlborough, and was remarkable 
 for her social brilliancy. She had married Viscount Boling- 
 broke in 1757, to whom she bore three children. After the 
 birth of the last of these, she separated from her lord, 
 vowing she would live with him no longer. Her friends 
 declared he had behaved shamefully to her, and had used 
 her very ill. On the other hand, my Lord writes to George 
 Selwyn, claiming his sympathy, 
 
 ' I intended to sup with you this evening,' he says, 'but I 
 am so low, dejected, and miserable, that I cannot speak, I 
 can only cry. The just parting with her whom I know 
 (though she does not yet) I shall not see again this long 
 while, quite overcomes me. I shall, therefore, go and lie 
 out of town this evening.' 
 
 No doubt the condolence he sought was freely given him 
 by Selwyn, who, a couple of days after the receipt of this 
 letter, received an epistle from the Hon. Henry St. John, 
 Lord Bolingbroke's brother, in which he says :
 
 LORD nOLINGBROKES WIFE. 193 
 
 ' My brother, whom you inquire so kindly after, is not 
 sunk into such low spirits as you seem to have heard. I 
 think, on the contrary, though he laments the loss of a home, 
 he does not whimper and whine after the object that has 
 been, these two years past, the cause of his melancholy, and, 
 I fancy, he at least sees that object in its true light. From 
 a desponding lover and husband, as we have seen him, he is 
 determined to become more a man of the world, and not to 
 sacrifice his pleasure and interest in life to the indulgence of 
 a grief brought on by an accident originally, and afterwards 
 continued by the foolish obstinacy of a woman, and pro- 
 moted by the unfeeling behaviour and indolence of her 
 brother,' 
 
 Lady Diana took a house in Charles Street, where she 
 was visited continually by Topham Beauclerk, who became 
 her lover. This did not apparently prevent her amiable 
 husband from being on terms of politeness with her. When 
 she was ill, he wrote to present his compliments, and trusted 
 ' Lady Diana Beauclerk's condition was improved,' on which 
 occasion, she, not to be outdone in courtesy, wrote to inform 
 ' Lord Bolingbroke that Lady Diana Bolingbroke was in 
 better health.' With the same sense of politeness and gra- 
 cious desire for her welfare and his own, the Viscount sought 
 a divorce a little later on, which was granted him, when her 
 ladyship married Topham Beauclerk. 
 
 Domestic unhappiness was, in this loose and profligate age, 
 if not quite the order of the day, at least frequently to be met 
 with in polite society. Infidelities to the marriage vow were 
 looked on with the most liberal leniency by husbands and 
 wives, and generally spoken of with a charming frankness 
 that scorned all secrecy. Indeed, an intrigue, full of preg- 
 nant details, was a morsel of news which the gossips of the 
 club and drawing-room hailed as a boon, and dwelt on with 
 an exceeding great relish; and it was, therefore, with no 
 ordinary delight that the affairs of the young Duke of 
 
 13
 
 194 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 Grafton's heart were discussed over cards and snuff, and the 
 particulars of his amour whispered behind laced hats and 
 wicked fans that screened no blushes. 
 
 This most famous scandal of the day connected the 
 name of his Grace, Augustus Henry, third Duke of 
 Grafton, with Nancy Parsons, described by Horace Walpole 
 as ' one of the commonest creatures in London, once much 
 liked, but out of date.' The said Nancy, beloved by a 
 Duke, was the daughter of a Bond Street tailor, and had in 
 early life given her too susceptible heart to a West Indian 
 merchant, with whom she had gone to Jamaica ; but, grow- 
 ing tired of that country and of her lover, she escaped from 
 both by stratagem, returned to London, and hired rooms at 
 a perfumer's in Brewer Street, where she met his gallant 
 Grace of Grafton, who in a little while became so enamoured 
 of her that he was willing to make any sacrifice for her sake. 
 The Duke was not only 'a profligate by profession,' as 
 Junius described him, but he was likewise First Lord of the 
 Treasury under a sovereign who prided himself on his re- 
 markable virtue. All the time he could spare from his 
 official duties was devoted to this lovely Nancy ; he drove 
 her in the full glare of publicity to Ascot races, sat beside 
 and made love to her at the opera-house, in presence of his 
 wife and their Sacred Majesties, and placed her at the head 
 of his table to entertain his guests. 
 
 'He brings everybody to dine with him,' writes Lady 
 Temple; 'his female friend sits at the upper end of his 
 table ; some do like it, and some do not. She is very pious, 
 a constant Churchwoman, and reproves his Grace for swear- 
 ing and being angry, which he owns is very wrong, and, 
 with great submission, begs her pardon for being so ill-bred 
 before her. - Would he have done so to the Duchess of 
 Grafton ? But lam afraid she has lost him by her own 
 fault, and is now very miserable.' 
 
 My Lady Temple, unfortunately for his Grace, was not.
 
 JUNIUS AND THE DUKE OF GRAFTON. 195 
 
 the only one who made this amour the subject of a letter ; 
 Junius, in one of those caustic epistles which have become 
 a classic, publicly addressed him in bitter and trenchant 
 language. 
 
 ' The example of the English nobility,' says this famous 
 writer, 'may, for aught I know, sufficiently justify the Duke 
 of Grafton when he indulges his genius in all the fashionable 
 excesses of the age ; yet, considering his rank and station, 
 I think it would do him more honour to be able to deny the 
 fact than to defend it by such authority. But, if vice could 
 be excused, there is a certain display of it, a certain outrage 
 to decency and violation of public decorum, which, for the 
 benefit of society, should never be forgiven. It is not that 
 he kept a mistress at home, but that he constantly attended 
 her abroad. It is not the private indulgence, but the 
 public insult, of which I complain. The name of Miss 
 Parsons would hardly have been known, if the First Lord of 
 the Treasury had not led her in triumph through the opera- 
 house even in the presence of the Queen.' 
 
 The wife of his profligate Grace separated from him, and 
 a few years after, their marriage was dissolved by an Act of 
 Parliament which received the royal assent. In the mean- 
 while, the Duke as may be supposed of a man of his 
 various tastes got tired of Nancy and left her. 'His 
 baseness to this woman,' says Junius, speaking of his 
 desertion, 'is beyond description or belief.' But, no matter 
 what his character was, there were many fair ones willing to 
 be led by him to the hymeneal altar ; his choice fell on one 
 of the daughters of the Rev. Richard Wrottesley, who was 
 quite ready to love, honour, and obey him in return for the 
 advantages of becoming a Duchess. The ex-Duchess com- 
 forted herself and the Earl of Upper Ossory by entering into 
 the holy bonds with him. 
 
 Nancy Parsons' romance, however was not at an end; 
 the late intrigue had rendered her fashionable, and she had 
 
 13 a
 
 196 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 now many ardent admirers in her train. Having a natural 
 taste for high life, she was resolved not to receive a lover of 
 lower rank than his whose delight it once was to honour 
 her ; her choice therefore fell on the Duke of Dorset, who, 
 it was whispered, had thoughts of marrying her ; but perhaps 
 Dukes are more fickle than other peers at all events, the 
 fair Nancy, whose charms were by this time on the wane, 
 was once more deserted by the man of her choice. 
 However, her perseverance equalled her stock of unlimited 
 affection, and, having persuaded Lord Maynard to marry 
 her, she finally succeeded in her efforts to become a peeress 
 of Great Britain. This event took place in 1777, when his 
 lordship was addressed, in ' A Letter to a Celebrated 
 young Nobleman on His late Nuptials,' by one of those 
 anonymous pamphleteers who were the terror of their age. 
 This epistle is marked by a charming freedom of speech 
 and frankness of comment that must have delighted the 
 world for whose benefit it was written ; a paragraph or two 
 will be sufficient to show its racy style. 
 
 ' You, my lord,' the writer says, ' in the opening of life 
 were always to be found at Newmarket. We pitied you, 
 indeed, and marked you down as one of those unfortunate 
 young men whose ambition it is to degrade themselves to a 
 level with their grooms ; when on a sudden you were flown 
 to France, that brilliant seat of every levity, and outdoing 
 petits maitres in insignificance. You will doubtless remem- 
 ber those amiable days when you were drawn gently along 
 the Boulevards at Paris, reclining in the arms of an opera- 
 dancer, who was supporting your pallid figure and comforting 
 your affliction. The French all admired the affecting 
 picture ; they were in raptures at the sight of a young 
 nobleman who showed such fondness for a woman some- 
 what advanced in life (indeed, you wanted the prudence of 
 age), and who could generously pass over the former 
 conduct of a woman distinguished chiefly for her irrcgu-
 
 LETTER TO LORD MAYNARD. 197 
 
 larities. After having exhibited the goodness of your 
 disposition through every street in Paris, you were kind 
 enough to return to your own country to improve us by your 
 example, and, still more bountiful, to bring over this 
 amiable woman as a model for your countrywomen. To so 
 engaging a partner, my lord, we were not surprised that you 
 dedicated your time. If you were inquired after at Court, 
 you were engaged ; if you were asked for in the fashionable 
 clubs, you were amusing yourself in a domestic tete-a-tete at 
 home ; and, if important business wanted your attention, 
 you were detained by your mistress. 
 
 ' From such a conduct we naturally imagined that Lord 
 Maynard must at least be constant ; when on a sudden we 
 were alarmed with the indecent spectacle of her beating you 
 in public for a supposed act of infidelity. You bore it like 
 a brave man, for a woman is no antagonist. You patiently 
 retired, and your lordship best knows the progress of recon- 
 ciliation. It is probable you might consider it as a proof of 
 love ; and forgive the little effusion of passion in one whom, 
 as a witty Lord observed, must be allowed to be a striking 
 beauty. The blow, however, we imagine, made some im- 
 pression, for soon after you were separated. In uniting 
 yourself to a woman of known bad character, you perpetuate 
 your follies, and rob yourself of those advantages a prudent 
 union naturally bestows. ... I will not on this occasion 
 pay your lordship so bad a compliment as to enumerate 
 Lady Maynard's charms ; all the world knows them as well 
 as yourself; her virtues you alone are acquainted with. 
 Make your amiable wife as happy as she deserves, and, if 
 any Christian duty can possibly result from such an union, 
 let it be deferred no longer. All the world knows your wife 
 has been a great sinner ; she cannot repent too soon. Con- 
 tinue, my Lord, to act as you have done, and " the joy of 
 heaven over her will be complete." ' 
 
 But perhaps the most amusing matrimonial squabble of
 
 198 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 the reign was that which disturbed the domestic happiness 
 of Thomas Hervey and his wife. This honourable gentle- 
 man was a son of the first Earl of Bristol, and consequently 
 brother to the celebrated John Hervey, whom the Princess 
 Caroline, daughter of the late King, loved not wisely, but 
 too well, for her own happiness. Tom Hervey, as he was 
 usually called, was fully as eccentric as his remarkable 
 brother, and was, moreover, not only ' one of the genteelest 
 men that ever lived,' according to Dr. Johnson, ' but also 
 one of the most profligate ;' his dissipation and wit rendered 
 him a man of fashion, his conduct through life made him 
 notorious. The first act of his which brought him promi- 
 nently before the public was his elopement with the wife of 
 Sir Thomas Hanmer ; her ladyship, when subsequently de- 
 parting from this sinful world, made a will in Tom Hervey's 
 favour of certain estates of which Sir Thomas had a life- 
 possession. In the course of time, Sir Thomas cut down 
 some of the timber on the property, whereon Tom Hervey 
 wrote him a letter of an extraordinary kind, which he had 
 printed and widely distributed ; and so pleased was he with 
 this production and its results, that he several times after- 
 wards had recourse to the same means of airing his public 
 grievances. In his letter to Sir Thomas, he dwells with 
 satisfaction on his amour with her late ladyship, whom he 
 speaks of as ' our wife ' ' For in heaven, whose wife shall 
 she be ?' he asks philosophically. ' At length,' he freely tells 
 the good Sir Thomas, ' she conceived that passion for me 
 which she has so fervently and so pathetically avowed. It 
 was not her eyes and ears enthralled her, for, if she could 
 have been captivated by words or forms, she might have 
 been in love with you.' He then requests Sir Thomas, if he 
 sells any more timber, to give him the refusal of it. 
 
 His second letter concerning his affairs domestic in 
 general, and the wife of his bosom in particular, which 
 was published for the benefit of the public at large, was
 
 MAD TOM HERVEY. 199 
 
 addressed to Dr. Johnson. The goodly philosopher came 
 to have his name mixed up in this disreputable affair in a 
 very simple manner. The Herveys had been kind to John- 
 son in his early days of struggle, and he always remembered 
 them with gratitude. ' If you call a dog Hervey, I shall love 
 him,' he said. 
 
 ' Tom Hervey had a great liking for Johnson,' Topham 
 Beauclerk told Boswell, 'and in his will had left him a 
 legacy of ^50. One day he said to me, "Johnson may 
 want this money now more than afterwards, and I have a 
 mind to give it to him directly ; will you be so good as to 
 carry a fifty-pound note from me to him ?" This I positively 
 refused to do, as he might perhaps have knocked me down 
 for insulting him, and have afterwards put the note in his 
 pocket. But I said, if Hervey would write him a letter, and 
 enclose a fifty-pound note, I should take care to deliver 
 it. He accordingly did write him a letter, mentioning 
 that he was only paying a legacy a little sooner. To this 
 letter he added, " P.S. I am going to part with my 
 wife." ' 
 
 Johnson wrote back, advising him against this step, when 
 Hervey at once seized the opportunity of vilifying his wife 
 in a letter addressed to his old friend, and published for the 
 benefit of the public at large. 
 
 ' I am persuaded that you are a very good man,' he wrote 
 to Johnson, 'but you have thought fit to be an advo- 
 cate for the most worthless woman that ever was on earth. 
 Mrs. Hervey, as, to my eternal shame and sorrow, she 
 is called, is a dishonour, not only to her sex, but to her 
 kind.' 
 
 This is language devoid at least of all false delicacy, but 
 what follows is more amusing : 
 
 ' She has been near sixteen years in my house without 
 ever having been invited to it. ... She has constantly run 
 out my fortune, being herself at the same time so arrant a
 
 200 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 beggar that she was going upon the stage at Dublin to get a 
 livelihood. The maintaining of her mother, who likewise 
 had not a single guinea of her own, was soon imposed upon 
 me, and, to say true, she has near as good a title to be my 
 pensioner as the daughter. In about a year or two after my 
 last complaint, the house I had taken at Richmond (in Lord 
 Edgcumbe's opinion, who succeeded me in it, the most 
 agreeable in the town), was called a dog-hole, and my 
 modest spouse importuned me for one of double the rent of 
 the other ; though I had objected, when I saw it, to the 
 conditions, tenancy, and every other circumstance relative 
 to it, you will be surprised, sir, when I tell you that the 
 Prodigal, nevertheless, obtained it of me ; yet what follows 
 will surprise you more. Upon hearing she was sick there, 
 and hoping to cheer her spirits by a visit, carrying with it in 
 appearance some little remains of regard for her (though I 
 most cordially hated her), I spent about ten days there, and, 
 though this was the first and only time that I had ever 
 obtruded my company upon her in either of her seats, some- 
 thing having ruffled her when I entered her chamber in 
 order to wish her a good-night, she flew into a passion. 
 Upon my asking her the cause of her disquiet, she replied, 
 " How can it signify what it is ? I am very ill. I had rather 
 that you was not here ; I want to be alone." 
 
 ' I took my leave, you may be sure, and passed the night 
 in a delirium, I suppose, as violent as ever was felt in Bed- 
 lam. ... To tell you the truth, I had turned her off a 
 dozen years ago, but, fatally, my poor heart relented, and I 
 took the vagrant into my house again ; but, believe me, I 
 had done myself less injury, if I had set fire to it, though it 
 had been the best in London. I have no material charge to 
 bring against her in point of conduct ; she has, notwithstand- 
 ing, behaved herself in such a manner as to disgust and 
 irritate me.' 
 
 The picture Hervey presents of his domestic life is not
 
 A HANDSOME YOUNG ACTOR. 201 
 
 complete without one scene, which he does not hesitate to 
 give the public. 
 
 ' In the last forcible entry she made into my chamber,' 
 he says, '.she not only derided me and my sufferings (which, 
 not long before, she had pretended to lament most pathetically 
 in one of her penitent letters), but traduced my whole family. 
 Upon which I spat in her face, and advised her to leave the 
 room immediately, lest worst things happened to her ; upon 
 which she had prudence enough to withdraw.' 
 
 Some time after the appearance of these letters, which 
 caused much amusement and gossip, the town was further 
 diverted by two advertisements which appeared in the public 
 papers from his pen, as follows : 
 
 ' Whereas Mrs. Hervey has been three times from home last 
 year, and at least as many the year before, without either my 
 leave or privity ; and likewise encouraged her son to persist in 
 the same rebellious practices ; I hereby declare that I neither 
 am nor will be accountable for any future debts of hers whatso- 
 ever. She is now keeping forcible possession of my house, to 
 which I never did invite, or even thought of inviting, her in all 
 my life. 
 
 'THOMAS HERVEY. 
 
 ' Bond Street.' 
 
 The second of these notices was still more remarkable and 
 laughable : 
 
 ' Having lately received another anonymous letter, containing 
 an innuendo highly injurious to my reputation, I will so far be- 
 friend the contemptible author of it, as to advise him to remain 
 for ever concealed, lest I should not allow him the accustomed 
 means of defending himself against my just resentment. I 
 declare, at the same time, to him and to all the world, upon 
 the faith and honour of a gentleman, that I have not a single 
 grief, either of mind, body, or fortune, though very sensibly 
 suffering in all, but what I owe to the worthless subject of his 
 remonstrance. Nobody living stood more in need of a friend 
 than her good ladyship ' (Lady Hanmer), 'and none had ever
 
 202 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 found a nobler. Should I, therefore, receive any further moles- 
 tations from her ' (his wife) ' weak advocates, who have been 
 her greatest enemies, I shall publish her last penitential letter, 
 for it is since that, many of the capital and most unpardonable 
 of her transgressions have been committed. I think, however, 
 that the conscience which would not serve her as a monitor, will 
 in time be my avenger. 
 
 'THOMAS HERVEY.' 
 
 But there were other members of society whose affections 
 were more happily, if not, according to the opinions of their 
 friends, more judiciously placed ; one of these was a lady, 
 whose name has been already mentioned in these pages, 
 and whose elopement caused one of the greatest sensations 
 of the day. 
 
 This victim to love's toils was Lady Susan Strangways, 
 eldest daughter of the first Lord Ilchester, and niece to Lord 
 Holland, the lady who had once been the confidant of the 
 King concerning his passion for Lady Sarah Lennox. Lady 
 Susan's lover was William O'Brien, a handsome young actor, 
 ' By nature formed to please,' as Churchill said of him, who 
 fretted his hours upon the boards of Covent Garden and 
 Drury Lane theatres Her ladyship and the actor, it appears, 
 were wise in their generation, and were enabled to keep their 
 mutual love a secret from the curious and gossiping world 
 which surrounded them, for the space of a year and a half; 
 during which time they carried on an uninterrupted corre- 
 spondence, by reason of O'Brien's imitating the handwriting 
 of Lady Sarah Lennox ; so clever indeed was his imitation, 
 that the unsuspecting Lord Ilchester often delivered the love 
 letters to his daughter. Their place of meeting was usually 
 at Miss Read's, ' the paintress,' where Lady Susan went to 
 take lessons, and also sit for her portrait, and where William 
 O'Brien repaired likewise. One day, however, Miss Read, 
 probably fearful lest she might get into trouble, betrayed the 
 trust placed in her by the youthful lovers ; when Lord Cath- 
 cart called to see her, she eagerly said to him, ' My lord,
 
 CLEVER LADY SUSAN. 203 
 
 there is a couple in the next room that, I am sure, ought 
 not to be together ; I wish,' added the discreet lady, your 
 lordship would look in.' Lord Cathcart opened the door 
 of the apartment in which Lady Susan was holding conver- 
 sation with her lover, shut it again directly, and then pro- 
 ceeded to enlighten her father concerning her ladyship's 
 amour. 
 
 Lord Ilchester was wrathful indeed, but clever Lady Susan 
 was equal to the occasion ; she flung herself on her knees 
 at his feet, confessed her love, and vowed to break it off ; 
 but, as a last favour, besought permission to see her lover 
 just once more, that she might bid him farewell for ever. 
 Lord Ilchester, satisfied by her protestations, consented to 
 the final interview, which took place early in the week. On 
 the following Friday she came of age, and on Saturday 
 morning she walked downstairs, and calling her footman, an- 
 nounced that she was going to breakfast with her friend Lady 
 Sarah, but would call on her way at Miss Read's ; when she 
 was some distance from the house, she suddenly remembered 
 a particular cap in which she wished to be painted, sent 
 back the footman for it, and no sooner had he left her, than 
 she whipped into a hackney-coach, and was carried to Covent 
 Garden Church, where her lover already waited her, and 
 where she was safely married. 
 
 ' Poor Lord Ilchester is almost distracted,' writes Horace 
 Walpole; and then the aristocratic cynic adds, with a sneer, 
 ' Indeed, it is the completion of disgrace even a footman 
 were preferable.' 
 
 All the world wondered indeed how my lady could have 
 married a poor player. 
 
 ' She may, however,' says the authority just quoted, ' still 
 keep good company, and say, Nos numeri , sumus Lady 
 Mary Duncan, Lady Caroline Adair, Lady Betty Gallini 
 the shop-keepers of the next age will be mighty well 
 born.'
 
 204 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 It may be added that two of these ladies mentioned 
 married respectively a surgeon and a medical doctor, the 
 third wedded Sir John Gallini. Lady Susan's friends were 
 indeed in sore distress at this act of hers; her husband 
 being a Roman Catholic, it was of course impossible for 
 him to get appointed to any office under Government 
 
 Sir Francis Delaval being, as Walpole says, ' touched by 
 her calamity, has made her a present of what do you think ? 
 of a rich gold stuff ! The delightful charity ! O'Brien 
 comforts himself, and says it will make a shining passage in 
 his little history.' 
 
 It was soon determined to send the actor and his wife out 
 of the country, and this plan was speedily effected. They 
 were married late in April, and in October Lord Holland 
 wrote to George Grenville, then Prime Minister, of his en- 
 deavour 'to assuage the incurable wound given to my brother 
 by his daughter. Mr. O'Brien,' he continues, ' is gone with 
 her to New York, and the keeping him there in credit is all 
 that can be done, whilst we, if possible, forget them here. 
 I hear there is a complaint against Mr. Lambert Moore, who 
 may probably, in consequence of it, be removed ; in that 
 case, I beg you to make Mr. O'Brien Comptroller of the 
 Customs at New York in his room. I will be security that 
 the public shall not suffer. His Majesty has shown so much 
 compassion on this unhappy occasion that I flatter myself 
 he will have no objection.' 
 
 This appointment was probably not given to O'Brien, who 
 soon returned to town, though not to the stage, for which, 
 however, he wrote a couple of comedies and a farce, which 
 were more or less successful. Shortly after his arrival, he was 
 appointed Receiver-General of the County of Dorset, and 
 both he and Lady Susan, who never repented her marriage, 
 lived to a good old age. 
 
 A few months after Lady Susan's elopement, another 
 marriage took place yet more remarkable ; the bridegroom
 
 PLAIN MRS. STURGEON. 205 
 
 was, according to Walpole's opinion, much more preferable 
 than an actor, being a footman, one John Sturgeon, and the 
 bride, the Marquis of Rockingham's youngest sister, Lady 
 Henrietta Alice Wentworth. This alliance of her ladyship 
 with a valet caused a commotion in all circles ; bets were 
 made in the clubs as to its truth, gossips waved their fans 
 over the whispered details, and the lovers of scandal received 
 it as a savoury morsel of which their palates did not easily 
 tire. ' The girls,' writes Gilly Williams, 'talk of nothing but 
 the match between Lord Rockingham's sister and her foot- 
 man, John Sturgeon.' 
 
 About this marriage, however, there was no concealment 
 or undue haste ; indeed, according to some of the corre- 
 spondents of the day, not sufficient haste. The lady was in 
 her twenty-seventh year, and had a fortune completely at her 
 own disposal, the arrangement of which, on such an occasion, 
 proclaimed her a woman of no ordinary prudence. She 
 settled the sum of one hundred a year for life upon her 
 husband, entailed her whole fortune on such children as Pro- 
 vidence might send her, failing which it went back to her own 
 family. Indeed, she betrayed a wisdom too rarely met with 
 before marriage in making provisions for any disturbances 
 that might threaten her future state, by securing to her 
 spouse his annuity, even in case they separated. All this, 
 drawn up in her own hand, she sent to Lord Mansfield, 
 whom she appointed as her trustee, who gave it as his 
 learned opinion that ' she had not left one cranny of the law 
 unstopped, and that the settlements were as binding as any 
 lawyer could make them.' 
 
 'Considering how plain she is,' says Horace Walpole, 
 ' she has not, I think, sweetened the draught too much for 
 her lover.' 
 
 After the ceremony, she retired with the footman to his 
 family in Ireland as plain Mrs. Henrietta Sturgeon.
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 Amusements of the Town Some Masquerades Strange 
 Costumes Mrs. Cornely's Entertainments Suppers and 
 Breakfasts Madame de Boufflers at Strawberry Hill 
 Her Visit to Dr. Johnson Favourite Opera-singers-^Lord 
 March and the Rena The Archbishop of Canterbury 
 scandalizes Lady Huntingdon Rage for Gambling and its 
 Consequences The Bucks and the Macaronies Samuel 
 Foote, 'the Celebrated Buffoon ' Fashionable Rogues 
 Some Strange Notices. 
 
 THOUGH the Court remained virtuously dull, the royal 
 example, excellent in itself, was by no means followed by the 
 town, where assemblies raged, masquerades obtained, and 
 gambling was the order of the day. The fashionable world 
 spent its days and nights in attending routs, balls, and 
 operas ; in gambling, intriguing, sinning, and dressing ; 
 satisfied with itself, if all these things were accomplished 
 with good taste. Amongst the most brilliant members of 
 this gay and pleasure-loving society were the young Duke 
 and Duchess of Richmond, whose entertainments were 
 usually magnificent, and always popular. One of these, a 
 masquerade, given in the earlier part of this reign, in 
 honour of the King's birthday, was especially noted for its 
 splendour. 
 
 It was held in the wide gardens attached to Richmond 
 House, which sloped down to the Thames, and were lit with 
 coloured lamps ; here, on a sultry June night, princes, peers, 
 and courtiers, maidens fair, and stately dames, to the number
 
 AT RICHMOND HOUSE. 207 
 
 of six hundred, arrayed in every imaginable costume, held 
 revelry till early dawn. Here came the beautiful Duchess ol 
 Hamilton and Argyle, stately and graceful, arrayed as Night, 
 in trailing robes, strewn with innumerable stars ; and here 
 also was her father, in the habit of a running footman, with 
 the portrait of his other daughter, poor Lady Coventry, hung 
 at his button-hole, like a Croix de St Louis ; then there was 
 Lucy Southwell, ' that curtseys like a bear,' attended by that 
 brilliant rake, Lord March, who was perpetually in love with 
 the ladies of the opera, and George Townshend, who passed 
 his time very agreeably to himself and his friends in mimick- 
 ing the Duke of Cumberland. Augustus Hervey, anothei 
 member of a family famous for its eccentricity, was present, 
 and, being perfectly disguised, treated everybody whom he 
 recognised to a piece of his mind concerning their respective 
 private histories, not forgetting to level the choicest shafts of 
 his sarcasms at the fair Miss Chudleigh, to whom he was 
 then privately married. 
 
 Her Grace of Richmond, the hostess, shone in all the 
 glory of her dazzling beauty, which was enhanced by the 
 costume of a Persian Sultana; whilst the Duchess of Grafton, 
 scarcely less handsome, was arrayed as Cleopatra. His 
 Grace of Cumberland was present, keeping close to charming 
 Mrs. Fitzroy, who, clad in a Turkish costume, looked 
 sufficiently bewitching to cause the Margrave of Anspach to 
 wish himself a Turk. Lady Pembroke looked divinely fair 
 in the robes of a pilgrim, and Lady George Lennox and 
 Lady Bolingbroke went as Greek girls. Then there were 
 knights of every clime and century, not wanting in gallantry, 
 and emperors whose sole ambition was to reign over hearts, 
 and Punches who were at liberty to scream out secrets at the 
 pitch of their wicked voices, and devils who led those 
 who hearkened to them into temptation, and bards who 
 were songless. 
 
 The lower apartments of Richmond House were brilli-
 
 208 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 antly lit, and spread with many supper-tables ; and presently 
 there were fireworks let off from an encampment of barges 
 stationed in the middle of the Thames, and decked with 
 streamers, and by their light a vast crowd of heads was 
 discovered at the windows and on the roofs of the neigh- 
 bouring houses, looking at the gay scene. 
 
 Another great masquerade was given at 'Almack's 
 Assembly Rooms,' where the balls were presided over by a 
 committee of ladies of quality ; and where was established a 
 club ' for lords and ladies,' which had at first met at a 
 tavern, but subsequently, to satisfy the scruples of Lady 
 Pembroke, one of the foundresses, in a room at ' Almack's.' 
 In this club the ladies nominated and elected gentlemen, 
 and vice versci ; so that no lady could exclude a lady, or no 
 gentleman black-ball a gentleman, no matter how much he 
 or she desired it Here, as Gilly Williams says, ' Almack's 
 Scotch face, in a bag wig, waiting at supper, would divert 
 you, as would his lady in a sack, making tea, and curtseying 
 to the Duchesses.' The only admission to these balls was 
 by vouchers of personal introduction. The great room set 
 aside for dancing was handsomely decorated with gilt 
 columns and pilasters, classic medallions, vast mirrors, and 
 cut-glass lustres. The masquerade held here in 1773, was 
 remarkable for its excellent music, its fine entertainment, 
 and the number of elegant figures that attended it 
 Amongst others who composed this gay and motley throng, 
 were my Lady Archer, dressed as a blue-coat boy, and my 
 Lord Edgcumbe as an old washerwoman, in a linen bed- 
 gown. There were also two charming Eves, accompanied 
 by two handsome Adams, such dull fellows in good truth, 
 that a wag went whispering all round the room he did not 
 wonder his first mother was tempted by a serpent, if the 
 companion of her blissful bowers was such a heavy fellow 
 as these Adams. Four officers, dressed in the uniform of 
 the Swiss Guards, made a fine show, dressed in blue with
 
 AT A MASQUERADE. 209 
 
 red neckclothes that made them look, 'twas said, like 
 Norfolk turkeys with their throats cut ; a chattering mungo 
 who teased many, asked George Selwyn, who was present 
 as a sage, what was his fate. ' Tyburn,' said the wit briefly ; 
 he had also something to say to Samuel Foote, who was in 
 a handsome cavalier costume. 'Ah, Mr. Foote, if your 
 comedies were as well-made as your clothes, what a genius 
 you would be !' 
 
 Lord Minto speaks of another masquerade at Hammer- 
 smith, given by Mrs. Sturt, to which he went with Lady 
 Palmerston and Mrs. Crew, Windham, and Tom Pelham, 
 from which they did not return till six in the morning. 
 There were a vast number there, amongst others Jack 
 Payne, who was dressed as a young lady, and looked and 
 acted so remarkably well that this assumed character, it was 
 said, suited him infinitely better than his own. The gallant 
 captain was chaperoned by Mrs. Fitzherbert. The three 
 Princes were there likewise, all in Highland dresses, and 
 looking very well. 
 
 'Their knees were bare,' Mrs. Crew told Lord Minto, 
 ' and I saw the Prince of Wales make a lady feel his bare 
 knee. She had asked him something about that part of the 
 dress, and he said it was exactly right, and she should see 
 it was. " There," said he, " you may squeeze it if you like," 
 which she did accordingly. They had breeches, however, 
 and only rolled up the breeches' knees,' added Mrs. Crew. 
 
 Decency, indeed, was not always preserved on such 
 occasions, and we read of several strange ' figures ' which 
 attended the public masquerades given at Carlisle House in 
 Soho Square by the famous Mrs. Comely. This remarkable 
 and enterprising lady, said to be Irish by birth, had once 
 upon a time been a public singer, but, having taken Carlisle 
 House, set about ministering to public pleasure in another 
 form. Here she established assemblies and subscription 
 balls, and presided over the diversions of the nobility ; at 
 
 ** 14
 
 210 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 first she had somewhat scandalized the public, but, the fame 
 of her entertainments getting abroad, her gorgeous balls were 
 soon crowded by the righteous, who were not satisfied to 
 leave all amusement to the wicked. She had altered, 
 rebuilt, and decorated Carlisle House at a vast cost, until it 
 assumed the appearance, according to a writer of the period, 
 of ' a fairy palace.' Even the underground apartments were 
 magnificent ; they consisted of seven rooms, ' which, from 
 the vast variety and ornaments, the grandeur and magnifi- 
 cence of some, the elegant simplicity of others, together 
 with the amazing beauty of the lights, one of the principal 
 excellencies of the whole, form a view, on descending a 
 perpendicular flight of stairs, most sumptuously and 
 strikingly pleasing.' 
 
 Nothing could be more magnificent than the brilliancy of 
 her masquerade balls, which usually commenced at nine and 
 ended at six o'clock the following morning, and which were 
 attended by the rank, wealth, and beauty of the town. Here 
 came her patrons and patronesses, arrayed in every imaginable 
 costume which taste or eccentricity could suggest, all of 
 which were more or less costly, and which went to make up 
 a scene of unequalled brilliancy. To one of these remark- 
 able masquerades, which set the whole town a-talking for days, 
 ' two great personages,' the King and Queen, were, accord- 
 ing to the London Chronicle^ 'complimented with two tickets, 
 which they very politely returned ;' but the refusal of their 
 Majesties did not prevent the numerous attendance of their 
 faithful subjects, and of some members of their royal family. 
 Here was the Duke of Cumberland as Henry VIIL, the 
 Duke of Gloucester ' in an old English habit with a star on 
 the cloak,' the Countess Waldegrave as Jane Shore, Lady 
 Pomfret as a Greek sultana, Lady Stanhope as Melpomene* 
 the Duchess of Bolton as the chaste Diana, Lady Edgecumbe 
 as a nun, the Duchess of Buccleugh as the Witch of Endor, 
 all in most costly garb. But their richness of apparel was
 
 CAPTAIN WATSON AS ADAM. 211 
 
 surpassed by Miss Monckton, Lord Galway's daughter, who 
 appeared in the character of an Indian sultana, ' in a robe of 
 cloth of gold and a rich veil, the seams of her habit being 
 embroidered with precious stones, and a magnificent cluster 
 of stones on her head ;' the jewels she wore were valued at 
 ^30,000. 
 
 In the midst of the blaze of magnificence which the scene 
 presented, a figure entered which immediately attracted 
 every eye, this being none other than Captain Watson of the 
 Guards in the character of Adam, who had his dress fitted 
 so close and painted so naturally that, on his first approach, 
 the eager and curious crowd who surrounded him believed 
 he was wholly unadorned. 
 
 Another figure was that of a Savoyard carrying a hurdy- 
 gurdy and leading a bear ; they had been stopped on their 
 entrance, as the bear had only a half or lady's ticket, but 
 were admitted on the Savoyard assuring the door-keeper 
 that it was a female bear. But, if the aristocratic throng 
 inside had their amusement, so also had the ignoble throng 
 which gathered in vast numbers in the streets leading to 
 Mrs. Cornely's fairy palace, and who, holding torches aloft, 
 made the occupants of the various chairs and coaches let 
 down the windows that they might be afforded a sight of 
 their dresses ; some of them went further still, and insisted 
 in a good-humoured way on the masks shaking hands with 
 as many of them as could reach their conveyances, a com- 
 placency which one lady had cause to regret, for no sooner 
 had she placed her delicate palm in the hand of a friendly 
 and dexterous thief than he slipped three valuable rings from 
 her fingers into his safer keeping. 
 
 The presiding genius over this and kindred entertain- 
 ments, the charming Mrs. Comely, it is sad to narrate, was 
 afterwards obliged to sell asses' milk at Kensington, dis- 
 guising her individuality under the common but familiar 
 
 142
 
 212 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 name of Smith, and she finally ended her days in the Fleet 
 prison. 
 
 Suppers were also much in vogue, and were usually held 
 when the guests had returned from the opera or play-house ; 
 wit and wine flowed freely at these convivial repasts, repartee 
 was exchanged, and scandal talked till the small hours. 
 Walpole tells us he went to a supper one night at my Lord 
 Edgecumbe's in Upper Grosvenor Street, after witnessing ' a 
 very wretched comedy, Dr. Goldsmith's " She Stoops to 
 Conquer.'" When he was yet at supper, 'that macaroni 
 rake, Lady Powis, who is just come to her estate and spend- 
 ing it,' called in with news of a fire in the Strand. It was 
 then past one in the morning, but my Lady Hertford, Lady 
 Powis, Mrs. Howe, and Horace must set off at once, and 
 were ' within an inch of seeing the Adelphi Buildings burnt 
 to the ground.' 
 
 Sir Francis Delaval, who was a gay soul, used to light up 
 Lord Lexborough's house, and give suppers to gay assemblies 
 of wits, macaronies, and opera-girls. 
 
 Breakfasts were by no means so fashionable as suppers ; 
 after the fatigues of nights spent in rounds of pleasure, men 
 and women of fashion were too exhausted to exert their 
 powers to please in the forenoon, or to give utterance to 
 those flashes of wit and humour then invariably expected at 
 all social gatherings, but which best harmonized with candle- 
 light Such entertainments were, however, occasionally 
 given; the Duchess of Gloucester once entertained four 
 hundred guests at breakfast at her house at Blackheath ; and 
 a record is left us of a yet more famous breakfast, at which 
 Horace Walpole entertained La Comtesse de Boufflers, sfa- 
 vante galantej who was mistress of the Prince de Conti. 
 When this lady arrived in town, she was, by reason of her 
 interesting reputation and beauty, immediately lionized, and 
 hurried about from one sight to another from morning till 
 night, until she, 'never having stirred ten miles from
 
 LA COMTESSE DE BOUFFLERS. 213 
 
 Paris, and having only rolled in an easy coach from one 
 hotel to another on a gliding pavement,' was quite worn out. 
 Walpole thought she was spoiled by her unrelaxed attention 
 to applause. ' You would think,' he says, ' she was always 
 sitting for her picture to her biographer.' 
 
 To the great breakfast which he made for her at Straw- 
 berry Hill, he invited some distinguished friends, amongst 
 whom were the Duke and Duchess of Grafton, Lord Hert- 
 ford, Lady Mary Coke, Duclos, the author of ' The History 
 of Louis XI.' and several novels, Lord and Lady Holder- 
 ness, and the famous Chevalier d'Eon, then secretary to the 
 French ambassador, who, in the latter years of his life, was 
 compelled to dress as a female. 
 
 Madame de Boufflers went thither ' with her eyes a foot 
 deep in her head, her hands dangling, and scarcely able to 
 support her knitting-bag.' The feast was spread in the big 
 parlour, and the host had filled the great hall and cloisters 
 by turns with French horns and clarionettes. Presently 
 Horace conducted them to see his printing-press, where 
 what should they find but half a dozen lines celebrating the 
 inimitable graces of madame, already in type, and just waiting 
 to be turned out, a gentilesse which pleased ; then he carried 
 them to another apartment which he called the cabinet, 
 where the yellow glass at the top, having a charming sun for 
 a foil, surmounted the indifference of all, and delighted her 
 Grace of Grafton, who entered into the air of enchantment 
 and fairyism of the place. 
 
 Madame la Comtesse, before she left town, paid a morn- 
 ing visit to another distinguished man, who did not, how- 
 ever, receive her with such state. Madame, who was the 
 friend of Rousseau, was anxious to make the acquaintance 
 of the English philosopher Dr. Johnson, and, having ex- 
 pressed her desire to Topham Beauclerk, that worthy man 
 undertook the task of introducing her to his learned friend. 
 Accordingly, they went to his chambers in the Temple,
 
 214 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 where madame was for some time entertained by his conver- 
 sation ; when her interview was over, she and her friend left, 
 and had got so far as the Inner Temple Lane, when all at 
 once they heard a voice like thunder, and looking round, 
 saw Johnson, who, suddenly taking it into his head that he 
 ought to have done the honours of his literary residence to 
 a foreign lady of quality, hurried after them in violent agita- 
 tion, and, brushing in between Beauclerk and the Countess, 
 seized her hand, and conducted her to her coach. The 
 philosopher's dress on the occasion was a rusty brown 
 morning suit, a pair of old shoes by way of slippers, a little 
 shrivelled wig on the top of his head, whilst the sleeves 
 of his shirt and the knees of his breeches hung loose. 
 
 Private concerts were another form of entertainment 
 which, at this period, when there was a general rage for 
 music, were extremely fashionable ; and the names of Ric- 
 carelli, Guadagni, Manzoli, Tondino, Zamparini. and Pacchi- 
 erotti, whom pretty Mrs. Sheridan could not hear without 
 tears, became household words. Almost every lady of 
 quality had her weekly musical parties, where Italian singers 
 and French fiddlers came dressed in velvet, lace, and em- 
 broidery, so as sometimes to be taken for foreign ambassa- 
 dors. Dr. Burney avowed that Manzoli's voice was 'the 
 most powerful and voluminous soprano,' and Gilly Williams 
 writes to tell Selwyn, ' the knowing ones agree nothing like 
 Manzoli has been imported into this country for ages.' This 
 singer became such a public favourite that, at his benefit, his 
 receipts were a thousand guineas, free of all charges. 
 
 ' This,' says one of the newspapers of the day, ' added to 
 the sum of fifteen hundred pounds which he has already 
 saved, and the remaining profits of the season, is surely an 
 undoubted proof of British generosity. One particular lady 
 complimented the singer with a two hundred pound bill for 
 a single ticket on that occasion.' 
 
 Walpole says of him, he ' is come a little late, or I think
 
 ITALIAN SINGERS. 215 
 
 he would have had as many diamond watches and snuff- 
 boxes as Farinelli had.' 
 
 Guadagni, another singer of renown, was the cause of one 
 of those pretty quarrels, concerning which party-spirit ran 
 high, and which mightily diverted the town. The Hon. Mr. 
 Hobart, Lord Buckingham's brother, who was manager of 
 the operas at the Haymarket, grievously offended Guadagni 
 by preferring the Zamperin, his mistress, to the singer's 
 sister. Guadagni was a man of vast importance, who was 
 accustomed to command, and who had held such sway in 
 Vienna that, to pique a man of quality, he had named a 
 Minister to fair Venice ; he, therefore, could not brook any 
 disregard to his desire, and left the Haymarket, when 
 several of his great lady friends, amongst whom were the 
 Duchess of Northumberland and Lady Harrington, es- 
 pousing his cause, he opened an opera at Mrs. Cornely's. 
 There Guadagni established his operas, which were won- 
 derfully well attended by the fashionable portion of the 
 town. 
 
 To avoid the licensing act, Mrs. Comely announced the 
 entertainments under the names of Harmonic Meetings, and 
 took no money, but received subscriptions to provide coals 
 for the poor, just as she had fitly described her masquerades 
 as being for the benefit of commerce. The Haymarket 
 opera-house began to thin ; Mr. Hobart's coffers grew 
 empty, and, in his rage, he informed the Bench of Jus 
 tices regarding Mrs. Cornely's operas, when they were 
 quashed, to the grief of the Guadagni's fair friends, one of 
 whom, Lady Bingley, gave an annuity of ^300 to this 
 charming signer. 
 
 Another Italian singer was the Rena, for whom Lord 
 March had a tender regard. When Horace Walpole enter- 
 tained the Earl at Strawberry Hill, my Lord brought my 
 Lady in his train, to which Walpole, with the freedom of his 
 age, had not the slightest objection, but feared ' it would not
 
 216 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 raise his reputation in the neighbourhood.' The same 
 liberality was, on another occasion, extended to the Earl 
 and his operatic friend by the Baron d'Holbach, a man of 
 parts and fortune, who was invited by George Selwyn to 
 meet Lord March ; it was intimated to him that the charm- 
 ing Rena would be present, but the gracious Baron declared 
 he would consider himself honoured by the society of 
 mademoiselle, 'for nothing prudish entered into his cha- 
 racter.' 
 
 My Lord, however, was seldom constant to one amour for 
 long, and in due time the Rena gave place in his capacious 
 heart to another singer, likewise an Italian, ' the little Ton- 
 dino,' who reigned mistress of his affections for some time. 
 When taking her departure for France, Lord March wrote to 
 Selwyn, who was then in Paris, concerning her, and his lines 
 betray a deeper feeling than might have been expected from 
 a man of his reputation. 
 
 ' I am just preparing to conduct the poor little Tondino 
 to Dover,' he says, ' and, as I shall hardly be able to write to 
 you there, I shall endeavour to say two or three words to 
 you while she is getting ready. I am sure you will be good 
 to her, for I know you love me, and I can desire nothing of 
 you that I shall feel so sensibly as your notice of her. . . . 
 My heart is so full that I can neither think, speak, nor 
 write. How I shall be able to part with her, or come back 
 to the house, I do not know. The sound of her voice fills 
 my eyes with fresh tears. My dear George, fai le cotur si 
 serre que je ne suis bon d present qu'a pleurer. Farewell, I 
 hear her coming, and this is perhaps the last time I shall see 
 her here.' 
 
 In her absence, however, the fickle lord's heart was 
 consumed by Zamparini, who was not only a singer of the 
 first celebrity, but a dancer of such merit that the graceful 
 movements of her light fantastic toe made sad havoc on the 
 too susceptible hearts of those beaux who witnessed her
 
 THE TOWN EXTREMELY LIVELY. 217 
 
 performance, and completely captivated my Lord March. 
 The Zamparini belonged ' to a rascally garlic tribe, whose 
 very existence depends on her beauty,' from whose society 
 my Lord had much difficulty in separating her. 
 
 ' He looks miserable,' says Gilly Williams, ' and yet he 
 takes the Zamparini off in her opera-dress every night in his 
 chariot.' 
 
 Presently news came of the Rena's return to town 
 from Paris, and he writes to tell Selwyn his violent fancy for 
 the Zamparini has a little abated, and hopes it may be quite 
 so before the Rena's return, ' else I fear it will interrupt our 
 society.' He furthermore avows his friendship and affection 
 for her, and, as one whom he loves very much, he hopes 
 she 'will have some indulgence for my follies,' a con- 
 trary behaviour, he adds, 'would be quite ridiculous and 
 affected.' 
 
 These various ladies, the history of whose amours lent 
 them additional interest, were received with great courtesy 
 by the noble dames at whose mansions they warbled 
 operatic arias, for the benefit of ears polite, whilst the 
 gossips of the day recounted in whispers what heroes of the 
 horse and foot guards wore chicken-skin gloves, how much 
 false hair her Grace of Manchester had recently bought, 
 and the name of the famous face wash which was used by 
 the Macaroni. 
 
 The town indeed was extremely lively. 
 
 1 Every drawing-room,' says the Westminster Gazette of 
 1773, ' is as different in its manners and modes as it is in its 
 company. One is celebrated for cards, another for wit, a 
 third for beauties, a fourth for coxcombs, a fifth for old 
 maids and scandal, a sixth for fashion, and a seventh for 
 cotillions.' 
 
 Not only did routs, balls, and gambling obtain in the 
 drawing-rooms of wicked worldlings, but such like sinful 
 amusements found their way into the episcopal palace of Dr.
 
 218 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 Cornwallis, Archbishop of Canterbury, to Lady Hunting- 
 don's vast horror. Her Ladyship was a mighty pious 
 woman, who was styled the ' Queen of the Methodists.' 
 Whitfield had preached in her drawing-rooms to fashionable 
 but heedless sinners, and had spoken of her as * the lady 
 elect '; but the prophet had come to shame, according to 
 Walpole, who tells that the holy man one day asked my 
 Lady Huntingdon for forty pounds for some distressed 
 saint or other. Perhaps she considered that distress was 
 the most proper condition for saints ; at all events, she 
 declared she had not so much money in the house, but was 
 finally induced to give her watch and chain, which the 
 preacher said were vanities, not worthless vanities, how- 
 ever. 
 
 ' About a fortnight afterwards,' says Horace, ' going to his 
 house, and being carried into his wife's chamber, among the 
 paraphernalia of the latter, the Countess found her own 
 offering. This has made a terrible schism.' 
 
 But her Ladyship was sufficiently a saint in her own right 
 to regard diversions as Satan's harvest for lost souls, and 
 hearing that routs were given at the episcopal palace, she 
 sought an interview with their Majesties, in order to complain 
 of Dr. Cornwallis. 
 
 ' I have been told so many odd things of your Ladyship,' 
 said the King, staring at her with his round blue eyes, ' that 
 I am free to confess I felt a great degree of curiosity to see 
 if you were at all like other women.' 
 
 After this courteous remark, Lady Huntingdon stated the 
 object of her visit, when the Queen asked her many 
 questions, and insisted that her Ladyship should take some 
 refreshments before she departed, a most unusual piece of 
 hospitality on the part of her economical Majesty, who had 
 refused her maids of honour the nightly suppers which it 
 had always been the habit of those who formerly held, that 
 post to enjoy. After refreshments had been partaken of,
 
 HIS BREAST WAS AFFLICTED. 219 
 
 their Majesties grew so agreeable as to permit her Ladyship 
 to kiss their royal hands, a piece of vast condescension for 
 which she returned her most grateful thanks. 
 
 Soon after the interview, the King wrote indignantly to 
 the good prelate, telling him of ' the grief and concern with 
 which his breast was afflicted ' at the news that routs had 
 made their sinful way into his palace ; declaring he held 
 ' those levities and vain dissipations as utterly inexpedient, 
 if not unlawful, to pass in a residence for many centuries 
 devoted to divine studies, religious retirement, and the 
 exclusive exercise of charity and benevolence.' He con- 
 cluded by trusting he would have no occasion to show 
 further marks of his displeasure, and signed himself his 
 Lordship's ' gracious friend.' 
 
 But the principal vice of the age may be considered 
 to have been gambling, which was limited neither to age nor 
 sex 
 
 ' As the gambling and extravagance of the young men of 
 quality has arrived now at a pitch never heard of, it is worth 
 while to give some account of it,' writes Horace Walpole in 
 his last journals (1772). ' They had a club at one Almack's 
 in Pall Mall, where they played only for rouleaus of ^50 
 each rouleau ; and generally there was ^10,000 in specie on 
 the table. Lord Holland had paid above ,^20,000 for histwo 
 sons. Nor were the manners of the gamesters, or even 
 their dresses for play, undeserving notice. They began by 
 pulling off their embroidered clothes, and put on frieze 
 great-coats, or turned their coats inside outwards for luck. 
 They put on pieces of leather (such as is worn by footmen 
 when they clean knives) to save their lace ruffles ; and to 
 guard their eyes from the light, and to prevent tumbling 
 their hair, wore high- crowned straw hats with broad brims, 
 and adorned with flowers and ribbons; masks to conceal 
 their emotions when they played at quinze. Each gamester 
 had a small neat stand by him, with a large rim to hold
 
 220 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 his tea, or a wooden bowl with an edge of ormolu, to hold 
 his rouleaus. They borrowed great sums of the Jews at 
 exorbitant premiums. Charles Fox called his outward room, 
 where those Jews waited till he rose, the Jerusalem Chamber. 
 His brother Stephen was enormously fat ; George Selwyn 
 said he was in the right to deal with Shylocks, as he could 
 give them pounds of flesh.' 
 
 Gibbon the historian said Almack's ' was the only place 
 which still invites the flower of English youth.' It was a 
 common occurrence for young men of fashion to lose ten, 
 fifteen, or twenty thousand pounds in one night Lord 
 Stavordale, whilst yet a minor, lost at this club on one 
 evening eleven thousand pounds, but recovered it by one 
 great hand at hazard ; whereon his Lordship swore a great 
 oath. ' Now, if I had been playing deep,' quoth he, ' I 
 might have won millions.' 
 
 Certainly gambling was Charles Fox's ruling passion ; 
 night after night he was to be found at the faro-table of one 
 of his clubs, where he lost enormous sums and ran himself 
 hopelessly into debt, when he was often reduced to borrow a 
 guinea from one of the club waiters, and was dunned by the 
 chairmen whom he employed. In the early part of one 
 night he won eight thousand pounds, but, alas ! this was but 
 a trifling sum, the greater part of which he paid away before 
 standing up from the table ; the remainder he staked again 
 and lost His father, Lord Holland, at his death left him 
 ; 1 5 4, ooo to pay his debts, but this amount did not cover 
 his liabilities, and in a few years the gambler was obliged to 
 sell all he possessed, including his library, for the benefit of 
 his creditors. 
 
 ' Charles tells me,' writes Lord Carlisle to George Selwyn, 
 ' he has not now, nor has had for some time, one guinea, 
 and is happier on that account' 
 
 During the races at Newmarket, gambling was carried on 
 to a vast extent, by way of counter excitement to the events
 
 LADY ELIZABETH CHEATS. 221 
 
 of the day. In 1772, a correspondent of Lord Harcourt's 
 writes to him : 
 
 * Play ran higher, if possible, at Newmarket this meeting 
 than at any of the former ; even rouleaus were despised, and 
 nothing but bank notes seen on the table. They say a 
 ;io,ooo was carried from London ; even Lord Carmarthen, 
 after all his sage resolutions not to game, was there drawn in 
 to lose ji,2oo a mere trifle in these days, but more than 
 either he or the Duke of Leeds can afford to pay.' 
 
 The ' Cocoa-tree Club ' was another resort of fashionable 
 gamblers ; here, after the play was over, and both Houses 
 had risen, peers, politicians, counsellors, and men of fashion 
 might be seen ' supping at little tables covered with a napkin, 
 in the middle of a coffee-room, upon a bit of cold meat and 
 a sandwich, and drinking a glass of punch,' after which 
 they adjourned to the gambling-rooms, to play until next 
 morning. 
 
 This diversion, which was the cause of so much anxiety, 
 excitement, and ruin, was shared by women. Cards had 
 obtained during the last two reigns, but faro-tables were now 
 introduced into drawing-rooms, and guineas changed owner- 
 ship with great rapidity. 
 
 ' The women,' writes Lord Nuneham, * play more than the 
 men at " White's " did twelve years ago, and Miss Pelham on 
 Sunday lost ^400 at a sitting.' 
 
 Perhaps the first to set up a gambling-table in her saloons 
 was Her Royal Highness the Duchess of Cumberland, who, 
 with her sister, presided over it with great profit, if not edifi- 
 cation, to themselves. The latter, Lady Elizabeth Luttrell, 
 had the reputation of being dexterous, a fame of which she 
 subsequently showed herself not unworthy. To better her 
 fortune, Lady Elizabeth went to Germany, where her pro 
 verbial good luck at games of hazard followed her, until she 
 was discovered cheating, when, as a punishment, she was 
 made to draw a barrow, to which she was chained, through
 
 222 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 the streets ; after this severe chastisement, she retired to 
 another principality, where she was discovered at her old 
 tricks, for which offence she was clapped into prison, where 
 this sister-in-law of a Royal Duke ended her life by poison. 
 Lady Essex was another woman of high degree who had a 
 passion for gambling, and who kept the town alive by the 
 splendour of her card-parties. 
 
 Play went high on some occasions amongst ladiesof fashion, 
 whose discretion was more limited than their fortunes. The 
 Court Miscellany of 1765 makes a statement that 'the lady 
 of a right hon. personage last night attempted to shoot 
 herself, on account of some losses at play, which she did not 
 choose should come to the ears of her husband. Happily, 
 however, the pistol missed fire, but the snap alarming her 
 woman, who was in the antechamber, she instantly came in, 
 and prevented any second endeavour of executing the terrible 
 purpose of her mistress.' Another magazine in the following 
 year states that ' a lady at the west end of the town, lost one 
 night last week, at a sitting, three thousand guineas at loo ;' 
 whilst the London Chronicle for August 13, 1775, states that 
 on 'Wednesday evening, two ladies of distinction, having a 
 dispute at a party of cards, repaired yesterday morning in 
 their carriages to a field near Pancras, and fought a duel with 
 pistols, when, one of them being shot in the left arm, the 
 affair terminated.' 
 
 ' A lady who ruins her family,' says Mr. Sergeant Circut 
 in the ' Lame Lover,' a play satirising the follies of the age, 
 ' by punctually paying her losses at play, and a gentleman 
 who kills his best friend in a ridiculous quarrel, are your only 
 tip-top people of honour.' 
 
 The beaux during this reign, and in the last, were divided 
 into two classes ; one of which was composed of robust 
 scamps, and the other of effeminate noodles, called maca- 
 ronies. Speaking of the former, the Court Miscellany venti- 
 lates its opinions in language not to be mistaken :
 
 THREE FINE BEAUX. 223 
 
 1 There is a part of taste,' says this article, ' that seems at 
 present extremely prevailing in these kingdoms, which de- 
 serves particular attention, that of imitating the dress of 
 grooms, the walk or roul of common sharpers and pick- 
 pockets, the oaths of fishwomen, chairmen, draymen, and 
 porters ; with all the additional flowers of rhetoric and figures 
 of speech extracted from Newgate itself. Where this refine- 
 ment will end, it is not easy to guess, since it is already prac- 
 tised by almost all ranks, from the highest to the lowest, 
 under the notable sanction of that senseless and despicable 
 class of people called " bucks." ' 
 
 Attending cock and dog fights in the morning, drinking at 
 taverns and gambling at clubs in the evening, provoking a 
 fight or beating a watchman at night, was the usual manner 
 in which they passed their days ; a mode seemingly much to 
 their satisfaction. The Prince of Wales, who loved prize- 
 fighting, attended one of these exhibitions with a group of 
 his friends, when, so rare was the sport exhibited on this 
 occasion patronized by royalty, that one of the combatants 
 was crushed out of all semblance to humanity, and beaten to 
 death. One of his friends, my Lord Lichfield, was more 
 humane, as may be judged from the fact that he dismissed 
 his French cook for flogging a pig three weeks old to death, 
 in order that it might eat tender ; monsieur the executioner 
 thought himself ill-repaid for a labour which had taken him 
 three hours, but my lord turned him out of the house with a 
 legacy of oaths, and public feeling was so much against the 
 cook that he had to repair to his native land. 
 
 Three other beaux of this class were Captains Scaurn and 
 Crofts of the Light Dragoons, and Mr. Lyttelton, who ogled 
 Mrs. Hartley, a mighty fine actress and a pleasant woman, 
 when she was diverting herself at Ranelagh. This lady was 
 sitting beside the Rev. Mr. Bates, who, like her, had come 
 to take the air, and who was vastly affronted by the conduct 
 of these fine gentlemen, who, in return for his frowns, made
 
 224 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 faces, not at him, but at each other. The reverend man 
 volunteered the remark that they were ' dirty, impertinent 
 puppies,' in reply to which information one of the gallant 
 sons of Mars informed the parson he was ' indeed a tight 
 good fellow,' and wished to know if he threatened him be- 
 cause he was a boxer. With most unclerical spirit, Mr. 
 Bates declared, if he said three more words, he ' would ring 
 his nose off his face ;' when the captain, wishing to preserve 
 his nose and his honour, asked for the parson's address ; and 
 at two o'clock the next morning the reverend man was waked 
 by a message from Captain Crofts to say, if he would not 
 appoint an hour and place for a fight, the gallant Captain 
 aforenamed would ' pull Mr. Bates' nose, spit in his face, 
 and drag the black coat off his back.' 
 
 The worthy parson sent word he would meet him at the 
 Turk's Head Coffee-house in the Strand. Accompanied by 
 two friends all ready for combat, Mr. Bates dined there, and, 
 that pleasant meal being over, Captain Crofts and his second, 
 the Hon. Mr. Lyttelton, entered on the scene. Dinner has 
 a proverbially soothing effect, even to those who thirst for 
 blood, and so, after many preliminaries, Captain Crofts said 
 Mrs. Hartley was ungenteelly treated, and confessed Mr. 
 Bates had acted with spirit and propriety in defending her j 
 to which speech the parson replied, ' that being granted, he 
 begged Captain Crofts' pardon for any unguarded expression 
 which arose from a misunderstanding on both sides.' After 
 these handsome speeches, healths were drunk and hands 
 were clasped, and peace was restored between the worthy 
 parson and the gallant captain. 
 
 In the early hours of morning the buck was at his best ; 
 then, emboldened by wine and an ample supper, he was 
 ready to smash lamps, give false alarms, or make the watch- 
 men measure their lengths upon the ground. Three of 
 these young gentlemen, in crossing St. John's Square, Clerk- 
 enwell, one morning, fell upon one of those honest guardians
 
 AMUSEMENTS OF THE TOWN. 225 
 
 of the peace, whom they seemed to regard as their natural 
 enemies, and beat him unmercifully ; the watch seized one 
 of them by part of his waistcoat, and called out murder, 
 when the valiant young bloods thought proper to take to 
 their heels, leaving a part of the waistcoat behind, in the 
 pocket of which the poor watch found three guineas and 
 sixpence, an amount he considered sufficient compensation 
 for the hard blows he had received. 
 
 The bucks patronized all the feats of strength and extra- 
 ordinary exhibitions of the day, and were much delighted 
 by ' The Original Female Sampson,' after whose performances 
 ' some of the most wonderful phenomenons that ever were 
 known' were shown. 'The Roman Boy stone-eater ;' 'The 
 Female Satyr, or Horned Woman, at the end cf Piccadilly 
 and Shrug Lane, Coventry Street, Haymarket, where she 
 may be seen every day for one shilling ;' ' Primrose, the 
 celebrated Piebald Boy;' Miss P. Burte otherwise the 
 ' Norfolk Fairy, being in her fifteenth year, and measuring 
 thirty-nine inches,' who humbly solicited ' the attention of 
 the nobility and gentry at her rooms in Jermyn Street, St. 
 James's,' were all favourites of the buck. But a special 
 protege of theirs was Johnson, the Irish equestrian, who at 
 Astley's rode one hundred yards standing on his head in the 
 saddle, or galloped round the ring on three horses, feats 
 which until then were almost unknown. Dr. Johnson has, 
 by a ponderous sentence, rendered his acrobatic namesake 
 famous. ' Sir,' said the lexicographer, ' such a man should 
 be encouraged ; for his performances show the extent of the 
 human powers in one instance, and thus tend to raise our 
 opinion of the faculties of man.' 
 
 The second class of beaux, known as macaronies, were 
 the petted darlings of society, who wore long curls and 
 spying glasses, and who for the most part had travelled and 
 brought back with them not only the fashions of the 
 countries they had visited, but likewise their worst vices. 
 
 ** 15
 
 226 COUR7 LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 Their heads were compared by one of the publications of 
 the day to a poet's garret, ' interiorly, very poorly furnished, 
 but exteriorly plastered, painted, and otherwise finely orna- 
 mented' They dressed in the extreme of the fashion, and 
 were gorgeous in coloured velvets, brilliant satins, and rich 
 laces, which were all usually imported from Paris ; they 
 carried long canes, from which gold and silver tassels were 
 suspended, and held gilt essence-bottles in their daintily 
 gloved hands ; moreover, they simpered blandly, ogled 
 women through their gold-mounted spying glasses, waved 
 their fans or perfumed handkerchiefs with grace, and 
 walked on their toes with the elasticity of a French dancing- 
 master. When one of these men of fashion, young or old 
 for, as Walpole said, the old fools will hobble after the 
 young went abroad, the correspondence of their friends 
 contained repeated requests for patterns of spotted velvets 
 or satins for suits, for embroidered waistcoats, worked 
 stockings, and such like articles of attira 
 
 The Rev. Dr. Warner writes to George Selwyn that he 
 sends him ' the prettiest work-bag in the world ;' and Lord 
 March, writing to the wit, tells him, ' Lady Townshend has 
 sent me a fan for you, which I will send by the first 
 opportunity;' and in return his Lordship is sent a muff. 
 ' The muff you sent me by the Duke of Richmond I like 
 prodigiously; vastly better than if it had been tigre or any 
 glaring colour,' says the Earl, and he adds, 'Several are 
 making after it' 
 
 ' The men imitate the women in almost everything,' says 
 the Westminster Gazette for 1773; 'perfumes, paint, and 
 effeminate baubles engross most of their time, and learning 
 is now looked on as unworthy attainment' 
 
 The conversations of the macaronies were usually inane, 
 and very freely interlarded with what Bob Acres calls the 
 ' curst French lingo '; their idea of love was intrigue, and to 
 wrap up indecencies in the thinnest and most graceful
 
 THE MACARONIES. 227 
 
 covering was an art which, according to their opinions, 
 showed excellent parts. These pretty gentlemen lounged 
 about town in the mornings ; met in Betty's fruit-shop in St 
 James's Street, a popular resort ; were carried in their chairs 
 to the houses of ladies of quality ; or went to see Mr. 
 Samuel Foote, the son of a Cornish gentleman and member 
 of Parliament, whom Walpole disdainfully speaks of as ' the 
 celebrated buffoon,' who vastly entertained the town with 
 caricatures of living persons, which he introduced into his 
 comedies with a faithfulness it was impossible to ignore. 
 Davies said there was hardly a public man in England who 
 had not entered Mr. Foote's theatre with an aching heart, 
 under the apprehension of seeing himself laughed at. Foote 
 was no bad judge of human nature. ' Demolish a con- 
 spicuous character,' he said, ' sink him below our level, then 
 we are pleased, then we chuckle and grin, and toss the half- 
 crown on the counter.' To demolish conspicuous characters 
 became the object of his performances, and gold flowed 
 freely into his coffers in return. 
 
 Once he intimated his intention of personating the great 
 Dr. Johnson, whose gruff voice, rolling eyes, brusque 
 manner, and untidy dress offered unusual capabilities for 
 reproduction with comic effect. Now Johnson, all through 
 his life, despised actors. 
 
 * Players, sir !' he once said ; ' I look upon them as no 
 better than creatures set upon tables and joint stools, to 
 make faces and produce laughter, like dancing dogs.' 
 
 ' But, sir, you will allow some players are better than 
 others.' 
 
 ' Yes, sir, as some dogs dance better than others.' 
 
 Moreover, perhaps, of all players, he disliked Foote most; 
 his mimicry, he said, was not a talent, but a vice, from 
 which others abstained ; and his conversation a mixture of 
 wit and buffoonery. Hearing that Foote was about to hold 
 him up to ridicule, he was indeed wroth, and gave the mimic 
 
 158
 
 w8 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 to understand that, if he attempted the like, he would 
 chastise him before the whole audience ; whereon Foote 
 abandoned his idea. 
 
 ' Sir, he knew I would have broken his bones,' said Dr. 
 Johnson. 
 
 But a greater favourite with the macaronies was Made- 
 moiselle Heinel, a celebrated dancer, at whose appearance 
 the poetry of motion, according to Dr. Burney, first gained 
 the ascendant over music. This lady, a Fleming by birth, 
 was tall, shapely, and very handsome, and had copied hei 
 attitudes from classic models. 
 
 ' She moves as gracefully slow as Pygmalion's statue when 
 it was coming into life,' writes Walpole, 'and moves her 
 leg round as imperceptibly as if she was dancing in the 
 Zodiac.' 
 
 To this lady's performances the whole town crowded, but 
 she was the especial admiration of the macaronies ; who, 
 besides the six hundred pounds salary allowed her by 
 the Hon. Mr. Hobart, the manager of the opera, compli- 
 mented her with zregallo of six hundred more from their club. 
 
 Robberies were extremely rife in this age, and the cool 
 manner in which they were perpetrated, as well as the easy 
 light in which they were regarded, cannot but astonish us. 
 The newspaper press of the day furnishes us with some 
 extraordinary histories of felons and felony. 
 , ' Friday, between five and six o'clock in the evening,' sayi 
 one of these reports, ' as a gentleman was passing by the end 
 of Fleet Bridge, near a china-shop, a fellow came up to him, 
 and, seizing him by the collar and throat, forced him a few 
 yards down towards Bridewell, whilst another took a white- 
 silk purse out of his pocket containing twelve guineas, and 
 attempted his watch, but, having a button-hole at the fob, 
 the chain broke, and they were disappointed; they then 
 threw him over the rails into a ditch, and made off. The 
 gentleman received no manner of hurt, but, having fell on
 
 FELONS AND FELONIES. 229 
 
 one side, that part was entirely covered with mud ; and, as 
 soon as he recovered from his surprise, he called out for help, 
 which a man .hearing, that was watering the horses at the 
 coach-stand, went with proper assistance, and drew bim up 
 with a rope.' 
 
 Another paragraph tells that, at two o'clock in the morning, 
 a person in woman's clothes, well-mounted upon a bay geld- 
 ing, robbed a gentleman upon Barnes Common of his watch 
 and almost eight pounds in money. This genteelly-attired 
 robber had a servant in livery awaiting him, who, whilst his 
 master filched the money, coolly took that opportunity of 
 girting his saddle tighter. 
 
 When entertainments were advertised to take place at 
 Vauxhall or Ranelagh, it was usually announced that 'twelve 
 lusty fellows would patrol the way,' and afford a guard against 
 the knights of the road. But it was not only the suburbs 
 and roads, but the streets and squares likewise, which were 
 beset by these vagabonds, who were wholly unawed by the 
 sight of the pestilential corpses of those who had in life 
 sinned likewise, and which now swung from the gibbets in 
 the Edgware Road and other public places as a dreadful 
 warning. 
 
 On one occasion, a gang of nine thieves were arrested, and 
 after being examined by the Sitting Justices, at the ' Angel 
 and Crown,' Whitechapel, were by order walked, hand-cuffed 
 and fettered, through the city, and marched back in the 
 same manner, in order that people who had lately been 
 robbed might have a view of them, and discover if any of 
 these had been the delinquents ; most of them were under 
 the age of eighteen. 
 
 When John Wilkes had his coach drawn by the mob 
 through the streets, a number of people lost their purses, and 
 some of them complained to the Lord Mayor. 
 
 ' I suppose,' said his lordship, ' some of Mr. Wilkes' coach 
 horses have picked your pockets.'
 
 230 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 In 1773, a batch of those malefactors, whose conduct had 
 been a scourge to all peaceable citizens, were captured, and 
 when sentence had been passed on them, were marched from 
 Newgate to the Docks, from whence they were to embark 
 for the plantations ; they were preceded by fifes and drums, 
 playing the lively air, ' Through the wood, laddie,' in which 
 they joined, shouting the song right merrily. ' You are a 
 joyful lot,' said a respectable spectator. ' Joyful !' answered 
 one of the black sheep ; ' you only come with us, and you 
 will find yourself transported? They were a bad lot, no 
 doubt, past praying for, as the Rev. Robert Temple dis- 
 covered when he went to administer consolation to five of 
 them who were about to be executed, but who savagely 
 turned round and beat the good man soundly. 
 
 They cared indeed neither for the living nor the dead .' 
 one of the journals of the day complains that ' some irregu- 
 larities ' (mark the gentle expression) ' were committed on 
 Saturday night last at Kensington, during the interment of 
 the late Earl of Godolphin, by the crowd assembled on the 
 occasion, some of whom tore the escutcheons off the hearse 
 before the corpse was taken out, and one man took away an 
 escutcheon from the side of the desk when the clergyman was 
 leading the service.' 
 
 Here is the account of a droll robbery taken from the 
 Monthly Chronicle : 
 
 1 Tuesday night, about twelve o'clock, a young man, hap- 
 pening to listen to the pleadings of a good-natured nymph in 
 the Strand, a fellow came up to him and demanded what he 
 had to do with his wife, and throwing at the same time a 
 paper of snuff into his eyes, ran off with his hat and wig; the 
 woman slipped away long before he could recover the use oi 
 his sight, proving pretty clearly that it was a preconceived 
 scheme.' 
 
 But thieving, like all other crimes, was not confined to the 
 lower classes, and was, according to the press, occasionally
 
 GENTEEL OFFENDERS. 231 
 
 practised by persons of quality. ' A woman of no incon- 
 siderable consequence,' says the paper just quoted, ' was last 
 Wednesday evening handed out of a very elegant company 
 for mistaking a gold snuff-box, and supposing it to be her 
 own property at the same time, though she knew it belonged 
 to another lady in the company.' 
 
 Another gentle offender was 'on Wednesday turned out of 
 a polite assembly at the west end of the town for making 
 rather too free with a purse of guineas belonging to a lady 
 who was his antagonist ;' whilst ' a genteel young gentleman 
 was brought before Sir John Fielding on a suspicion of 
 robbing his master of fifty pounds. He was just going off in 
 a post-chaise with a well-known courtezan of Covent Garden.'' 
 A second genteel young fellow named James Sampson, 
 ' dressed in blue and gold, with a servant to attend him,' was 
 also brought before the same worthy justice on a charge of 
 forgery. 
 
 Even at the Court, gentility was found appropriating its 
 neighbour's goods ; for at one of the Queen's drawing-rooms 
 held in 1777, Cumberland, who was present, narrates: 'Sir 
 George Warren had his order snatched off his ribbon, en- 
 circled with diamonds to the value of ^"700. Foote was 
 there, and lays it upon the parsons, having secured, as he 
 says, his gold snuff-box in his waistcoat pocket upon seeing 
 so many black-gowns in the room.'
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 News of the King's Madness Public Anxiety The Prince's 
 Conduct What Captain Jack Payne wrote to Sheridan 
 Removal of His Majesty to Kew Cruel Treatment of the 
 KingA German Page The Prince of Wales and Duke 
 of York Political Factions The Plan of Regency Dr. 
 Willis and the King Miss Burney pursued by His Majesty 
 What Willis said to the Chancellor Recovery and Re- 
 joicings Thanksgiving at St. Paul's The Bishop of 
 Llandaff and the Queen The Duke of York's Duel The 
 Queen smiles upon Colonel Lennox. 
 
 MEANWHILE, the news of the King's madness spread through- 
 out the kingdom, and the consternation and excitement 
 which followed were intense. Vague reports, not only of 
 the violence and hopelessness of his malady, but of his death, 
 were whispered daily, and added to the agitation which pos- 
 sessed all classes alike. The Stocks fell two per cent. ; 
 petitions for His Majesty's restoration were offered up by all 
 religious sects, and in the Jewish synagogues, before the 
 Privy Council had framed a form of prayer to be used in the 
 Church of England ; and men of all shades of political 
 opinions hurried to town, anxious, aqd embarrassed that 
 both Houses of Parliament stood prorogued to November 20, 
 beyond which date no power existing in the State could 
 postpone the meeting. Above all, a strong feeling pervaded 
 the public mind that the King's death would bode no good 
 to the country. 
 
 His Majesty's most bitter affliction seemed indeed to sud-
 
 * WHAT WILL BECOME OF ME* 233 
 
 denly stir a sense of loyalty in the hearts of the people. 
 Sir Lucas Pepys, one of the royal physicians, told Miss 
 Burney that none of his colleagues' lives would be safe if 
 the King did not recover, and that they all received 
 threatening letters daily. Sir George Baker, another of the 
 medical attendants, had his carriage stopped by the mob, 
 who asked him how the King did, and, on his replying that 
 his case was a bad one, they shouted out, ' The more shame 
 for you.' 
 
 But, if there was gloom and consternation abroad, there 
 was fear and depression under the royal roof. The Prince 
 of Wales took possession of Windsor, when all order was 
 banished from the household ; and here he remained until 
 the King's removal to Kew, believing he might at any 
 moment be called upon to occupy the throne. The Queen, 
 stunned and miserable, lived entirely in two apartments, 
 interfering in no way, and seeing only her daughters and a 
 few of the ladies of her household. She was already slighted 
 as if her reign were a thing of the past, scarce consulted in 
 any of the arrangements concerning the King, and humili- 
 ated to find herself ignored by the physicians ; who, after 
 leaving His Majesty, proceeded to make their reports to the 
 Prince, whom they regarded as the rising sun, and with whom 
 they hoped in this way to gain favour. Left almost friend- 
 less and hopeless, her sense of desolation and grief were 
 extreme ; her cry, as Miss Burney tells us, ' " What will be- 
 come of me ? What will become of me ?" uttered with the 
 most piercing lamentation, struck deep and hard into all 
 our hearts.' 
 
 The Duke of York, the King's second and favourite 
 son, who had returned to England, and had been re- 
 ceived with every demonstration of affection by the King 
 a short time before his illness, now joined his brother 
 in his control over the royal household, and became a 
 partner in the disgraceful and unfeeling conduct of the heir
 
 234 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 to the Crown. In the presence of the Queen, they spoke of 
 their father's malady in a brusque and heartless manner ; 
 and, at a time when the King's malady was sought to be 
 kept secret, the Prince of Wales introduced his friend Lord 
 Lothian into His Majesty's room when it was darkened, that 
 he might hear his ravings at a time when they were at their 
 worst ; later on, he overhauled His Majesty's private cabinet, 
 when he came upon some secret papers and a 'vast hoard' 
 of jewels and money. When this latter fact became known 
 to Her Majesty, she, as the Prince afterwards wrote in com- 
 plaint to his father, ' condescended to a species and warmth 
 of reproaches, into which nothing could have surprised or 
 betrayed Her Majesty, but a degree of passion which I have 
 never witnessed, nor believed to exist, in Her Majesty 
 before.' 
 
 The Prince was attended at Windsor by his personal and 
 disreputable friend and private secretary, Captain, or as he 
 was more generally and familiarly termed, Jack Payne, who 
 had recently been refused admittance into Brooks' Club. 
 This worthy gentleman had as little delicacy in speaking of 
 the King's affliction as if it were a subject for amusement, 
 or, indeed, as the Prince himself; and, as he considered 
 c all secrecy with regard to His Majesty's situation any 
 longer almost inadvisable,' wrote full details of its various 
 stages to his friends, Richard Brinsley Sheridan and Lord 
 Loughborough ; moreover, these letters, in which he ' spoke 
 his mind freely,' scarcely conceal a desire, not limited to the 
 captain, for the King's demise. 
 
 To Lord Loughborough he writes that His Majesty's ' dis- 
 solution is almost the best that can be hoped ;' and two days 
 afterwards he says, ' From what I can understand from the 
 best authority, the last stroke to this unhappy affair cannot be 
 far off. It is what every person in a situation to see is 
 obliged to wish, as the happiest possible termination to the 
 present melancholy scene.' To Sheridan, who was to have
 
 REMOVING TO WINDSOR. 235 
 
 been Prime Minister under the new King's reign, the captain 
 says : ' The Duke of York, who is looking over me, and is 
 just come out of the King's room, bids me add that His 
 Majesty's situation is every moment becoming worse. His 
 pulse is weaker and weaker ; and the doctors say it is im- 
 possible to survive it long . . Since this letter was begun, 
 all articulation even seems to be at an end.' In his next 
 epistle to the same friend, he writes that the King woke at 
 night from a profound sleep, 'with all the gestures and 
 ravings of the most confirmed maniac, and a new noise in 
 imitation of the howling of a dog ... his theme has been 
 all this day on the subject of religion, and of his being in- 
 spired ;' and again he speaks of an effort the King made to 
 fling himself from a window. 
 
 But days passed, and though His Majesty in no way gave 
 signs of recovering his reason, his physical health improved. 
 It was then deemed advisable that he should be removed to 
 Kew, which would be more convenient to the physicians, 
 as being nearer London, and they declared it likewise best 
 for their patient, on account of the garden, as in Windsor 
 there was none but what was public to the spectators from 
 the terrace or tops of the houses. 
 
 The Queen's knowledge of the King's strong aversion to 
 Kew made her consent to the change with great reluctance; 
 the Prince, however, was in favour of his removal, and the 
 physicians gave it as their unanimous opinion that such a 
 step was now not only advisable, but necessary ; accordingly, 
 a Privy Council was held at Windsor with the Prince of 
 Wales, when the Chancellor, Mr. Pitt, and all the officers of 
 State, were summoned to sign permission for His Majesty's 
 removal. The only difficulty remaining was that of removing 
 him quietly from his favourite Windsor. If they attempted 
 force, Sir Lucas Pepys said, they had not a doubt but his 
 smallest resistance would call up the whole country to his 
 fancied rescue ; yet how at such a time prevail by persua-
 
 236 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 sion ? The date fixed for his departure was November 29, 
 a day of unusual depression to the Queen and her house- 
 hold ; her mind, she said, ' quite misgave her about Kew ; 
 the King's dislike was terrible to think of, and she could 
 not foresee in what it might end. She would have resisted 
 the measure herself, but that she had determined not to 
 have upon her own mind any opposition to the opinion of 
 the physicians.' 
 
 It was settled between the Prince and the doctors that 
 the Queen, with the Princesses, should quietly depart for 
 Kew, when the King should be informed they had left, and 
 permitted to go through their rooms to assure himself of the 
 fact ; he was then to be allured to Kew on the promise of 
 seeing them. On the morning of the 29th, the royal house- 
 hold was in a state of confusion, packing and preparing for 
 the removal ; physicians and pages whispering and plotting, 
 the Prince anxious, the Princesses weeping, with a chill 
 foreboding at heart of impending misery. About ten o'clock 
 the Queen departed ; ' drowned in tears, she glided along 
 the passage, and got softly into her carriage, with two weep- 
 ing Princesses and Lady Courtown. Then followed the 
 third Princess, with Lady Charlotte Finch. They went off 
 without any state or parade, and in a more melancholy 
 condition than can be imagined. There was not a dry eye 
 in the house. The footmen, the housemaids, the porter, 
 the sentinels all cried, even bitterly, as they looked on.' 
 
 The Prince had, some days previously, driven to Kew, in 
 order to make arrangements there according to his desires 
 for the reception of the King, Queen, and Princesses. Ac- 
 cordingly, when Her Majesty arrived, she found the names 
 of those who were to occupy the various apartments written 
 on the doors in chalk ; the house was in a miserable con- 
 dition ; no fires were lighted, the rooms needed washing ; 
 the wind blew through the ill-fitting windows and doors of 
 the palace, which had never been intended for a winter
 
 A DAY OF GLOOM. 237 
 
 residence ; there were no carpets in the Princesses' apart- 
 ments, and everywhere, on this bleak November day, an air 
 of chill discomfort pervaded. 
 
 Towards evening, the King with great difficulty was per- 
 suaded to quit Windsor ; he was accompanied by only three 
 of his gentlemen, but almost all the inhabitants of the town 
 gathered round the railings to see him enter his carriage, 
 many of whom believed they would never set eyes on him 
 again. On passing through the gates of the park, he covered 
 his face with his hands, and cried ; but, recovering presently, 
 he spoke of the pleasure he would have in meeting his wife 
 and daughters, a satisfaction cruelly denied him. The Right 
 Hon. William Massey, who derived the private information 
 furnished in his ' History of England during the reign of 
 George III.' from the diary of Lady Elizabeth Harcourt 
 Lady of the Bedchamber to the Queen, and sister-in-law to 
 General Harcourt, one of the King's favourite equerries 
 states that when His Majesty arrived at the palace, he found 
 himself a prisoner. 
 
 ' Proceeding,' the historian writes, ' towards the apart- 
 ments he usually occupied, he was stopped, and conducted 
 into a large room, where he found the pages who were to 
 be his keepers waiting to receive him. The equerries, 
 among whom was his faithful and valued servant, General 
 Harcourt, according to the orders they had received, with- 
 drew. The physician also, who had accompanied the royal 
 patient from Windsor, having consigned him to the charge 
 of the pages, also thought proper to retire, and actually 
 returned to London the same night. The King then im- 
 patiently demanded to see his family ; and the promise 
 under which he had been induced to leave his palace of 
 Windsor was, in cruel mockery, fulfilled. The Princesses 
 were brought before the window ; the King, on seeing them, 
 rushed forward to lift the sash, but it was screwed down. 
 A paroxysm was the immediate consequence of this cruel
 
 238 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 restraint ; the Princesses were hastily removed, and the 
 King was dragged from the window, entreating to be allowed 
 to speak to his children.' 
 
 Next morning, Miss Burney says she by the desire of 
 Her Majesty, who had passed a wretched night went 
 through the cold, dark passages to procure speech of one of 
 the pages, when she learned ' the night had been the most 
 violently bad of any yet passed and no wonder.' 
 
 In the seclusion of Kew Palace, the King's physicians, 
 little understanding his malady and its treatment, no longer 
 dealt with him as if he were a human being ; cruelty was 
 indeed considered by the eminent medical faculty of the 
 day the shortest method of restoring reason to the unfortu- 
 nate victims they undertook to cure of insanity, and such was 
 not spared the King. From Massey's excellent history we 
 learn that the King's body was enclosed in a machine which 
 left him no liberty of action ; he was sometimes chained to a 
 staple, frequently beaten and starved, and kept in subjection 
 by menacing and violent language. All this was persisted in, 
 though he was seldom violent, unless when provoked. His 
 malady betrayed itself chiefly in ravings, that sometimes con- 
 tinued uninterruptedly for a whole day, and, in one instance, 
 for nineteen hours without intermission. His wife and 
 daughters were not permitted to see him, and he was now 
 chiefly entrusted to a German page named Ernst, whom 
 royal patronage had lifted from an obscure position. This 
 creature used to strike the helpless maniac, and on one occa- 
 sion, when he wished to prolong his walk in the garden, 
 Ernst seized him in his arms, carried him into his apart- 
 ments, and, throwing him violently on a sofa, exclaimed to 
 the attendants, ' There is your King for you.' This inci- 
 dent was remembered by His .Majesty after his recovery, 
 and was repeated by him to Lady Harcourt It made 
 such an impression on him that he also mentioned it to 
 Miss Burney.
 
 THE TOWN WAS DIVIDED. 239 
 
 ' He gave me,' she writes, c a history of his pages, ani- 
 mating almost into a rage as he related his subjects of dis- 
 pleasure with them, particularly with Mr. Ernst, who, he told 
 me, had been brought up by himself.' 
 
 The Prince of Wales and the Duke of York were now 
 seldom seen at Kew, but occupied themselves with schemes 
 for the future, when the former should be proclaimed either 
 King or Regent. His faction was headed by Richard Brinsley 
 Sheridan, in the absence of Charles Fox, who was, at the 
 period when the King's illness was first discovered, travelling 
 through France and Italy with Mrs. Armstead ; the Prince 
 had despatched a courier for him, his advice and assistance 
 being sorely needed at this crisis by his friends, who looked 
 for his coming 'as the Jews look out for their Messiah.' 
 The whole town was divided into factions that raged with 
 great vigour ; the general voice being in favour of the King 
 and Pitt, against the Prince, whose reign they dreaded, and 
 his dissipated followers. These latter, urged on by the 
 royal example, sought every means of ridiculing the King 
 and turning his affliction to heartless merriment 
 
 Massey gives it as an authentic fact that ' the Prince of 
 Wales, who had a talent for mimicry, and indeed possessed 
 the social qualities suited to the witty and profligate men and 
 women with whom he lived, was in the habit of amusing 
 his companions by taking off, as the phrase was, the gestures 
 and actions of his insane father. That which he did him- 
 self, he suffered his friends to do ; and the standing topic in 
 the Prince's circle was ridicule of the King and Queen. The 
 Duke of York vied with his brother in defamation of his 
 parents; but he was wholly destitute of the lively talent 
 which sometimes carries off the grosser parts of the most 
 ribald discourse; and the brutality of the stupid sot dis- 
 gusted even the most profligate of hie associates.' 
 
 Captain Jack Payne must, of course, follow the royal 
 example, and, according to Lady Harcourt, when he had
 
 240 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 'one day uttered some ribaldry about the Queen in the 
 presence of the Duchess of Gordon, " You little, insignifi- 
 cant, good-for-nothing, upstart, pert, chattering puppy," said 
 her Grace, " how dare you name your royal master's royal 
 mother in that style ?" ' a hearty rebuke by which the gallant 
 man scarcely profited, as may be judged from a letter, pre- 
 served in the Auckland Correspondence, from Miss Sayer, 
 whose information was derived from the said Duchess of 
 Gordon, a staunch supporter of the King and Pitt 
 
 ' A few days ago,' says Miss Sayer, ' Mrs. Richard Walpole 
 gave a supper to the two Princes, Mrs. Fitzherbert, Colonel 
 Fullarton, Jack Payne who is such a favourite he is to be 
 a Lord of the Admiralty, and leans on the Prince as he 
 walks, not the Prince on him Miss Vanneck and a few 
 others. The Duchess of Gordon the only Pittite. The 
 Prince says, " What a fine fellow my brother York is ! He 
 never forsakes me. The other day, when we went to look 
 for the King's money, jewels, etc, at Kew, as we opened 
 the drawers, my mother looked very uneasy and grew angry. 
 Says York to her, " Madame, I believe you are as much 
 deranged as the King." Then says Jack Payne, after a 
 great many invectives against Mr. Pitt, calling him William 
 the Fourth, William the Conqueror, etc., "Mr. Pitt's chastity 
 will protect the Queen," which was received by all present as 
 a very good thing. The Duchess of Gordon for which you 
 will like her, though a Scotchwoman declared, if they began 
 to abuse the Queen, she would leave the room.' 
 
 But at Brooks' Club indecent abuse of the King, Queen, 
 and Pitt was indulged in without reserve ; and a cant phrase 
 used at the whist-table was, ' I play the lunatic ' (the King). 
 
 The contest between the two political factions increased 
 daily. The ladies who espoused the Prince's cause wore 
 Regency caps, badges, and ribbons emblematic of their party ; 
 whilst their more loyal sisters refused to attend their private 
 entertainments or visit them.
 
 WHAT CHARLES FOX SAID. 241 
 
 Parliament assembled on November 20, but was again 
 adjourned till December 4, in consequence of the King's 
 condition ; when it met on that date, both parties agreed to 
 appoint a select committee to examine the King's physicians 
 regarding the probable time which his madness might last. 
 Six days later, the reports of the committee which declared 
 His Majesty to be incapable of meeting Parliament, or trans- 
 acting any business, were laid upon the table of the House 
 of Commons, when Pitt brought in a 'plan of Regency,' 
 according to which the management of the King, and of the 
 royal household and all appointments concerning it, should 
 be vested in the Queen ; the royal authority being exercised 
 by the Prince of Wales under certain restrictions. These 
 were that the Prince was not to dispose of the King's real 
 or personal property, nor grant any pensions, nor any office 
 in reversion, nor create any peers Such restrictions were 
 exactly those which the Prince and his friends dreaded, and 
 which they were now determined to oppose by might and 
 main. Accordingly, Charles Fox rose to his feet, and, in 
 an excited speech, declared the Prince of Wales had 'as 
 clear a right to assume the reins of Government, and fully 
 exercise the powers of sovereignty, as if His Majesty had 
 undergone a perfect and natural demise.' 
 
 Pitt listened, with a smile of satisfaction, to these bold 
 expressions, which, he felt convinced, were far more damning 
 to the Prince's party than any argument of which he could 
 make use ; leaning across to the Treasury bench, he 
 whispered to a friend, ' I'll un-whig that gentleman for the 
 rest of his life.' No sooner had Fox sat down, than his 
 opponent rose. The doctrine, he said, they had. just 
 listened to was little less than treason to the Constitution. 
 He ' met the claim of right preferred on behalf of the heir- 
 apparent with a positive contradiction, and denied that, 
 under the circumstances, the Prince of Wales had any more 
 right to assume the Government than any other person in 
 
 ** 16
 
 242 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 the kingdom. It was the province of Parliament, and of 
 Parliament alone, to make provision for the government of 
 the country, whenever any interruption of the royal authority 
 took place.' 
 
 Whilst the Regency Bill was before Parliament, the 
 Prince lost no time in seeking friends to support his cause, 
 an effort in which he was of course seconded by his brother ; 
 the latter held a meeting in his own house, to confer with 
 the Opposition, as the Prince's political followers were 
 styled, and made a speech, remarkable for neither eloquence 
 nor intelligibleness, in favour of granting full powers to the 
 Regent Indeed, the Prince now caused the report to be 
 spread that he would not accept the Regency under any 
 restrictions ; furthermore, both he and his friends declared 
 the King's madness was hopelessly incurable. 
 
 The conduct of the royal brothers now became, if possible, 
 more reckless and dissipated than before ; hopeful of the 
 success of their plans, they enjoyed themselves without 
 restraint; dined publicly with their friends, and were seen 
 at night continually at Brooks', where they gambled and got 
 drunk. 
 
 * The behaviour of the two Princes/ Mr. Granville writes 
 to the Marquis of Buckingham, ' is such as to shock every 
 man's feelings .... If we were together, I could tell you 
 some particulars of the Prince of Wales's behaviour towards 
 the King and Queen within these few days that would make 
 your blood run cold.' 
 
 Lord Bulkeley adds his testimony. 
 
 ' The Princes,' he says, ' go on in their usual style, both 
 keeping open houses, and employing every means in their 
 power to gain proselytes ; attending the Beefsteak Club, 
 
 Freemason's meetings, etc The Duke of York never 
 
 misses a night at Brooks', where the hawks pluck his feathers 
 unmercifully, and have reduced him to the vowels I O U.' 
 
 It may be mentioned here that, eighteen months alter the
 
 LORD LOUGHBOROUGH WALKED IN. 243 
 
 Duke's return from Germany, he was indebted to his 
 creditors for the sum of ^"60,000. 
 
 So assured was the Prince that his hour of triumph was at 
 hand, that he already named some of his Ministers of State ; 
 the Duke of York was to be appointed Commander-in- 
 Chief; Sheridan, Treasurer of the Navy; Fox, one of the 
 Secretaries of State; Earl Spencer, Lord-Lieutenant of 
 Ireland ; Jack Payne was to be made an admiral at once ; 
 and my Lord Loughborough, Lord Chancellor. Concern- 
 ing this latter appointment, an amusing incident occurred, 
 which is given in the Auckland Correspondence, on the 
 authority of the Archbishop of Canterbury. 
 
 ' On Friday night an odd thing happened,' writes his Grace, 
 ' at a great assembly and ball at Devonshire House, given for 
 all the world. When it was very full, the doors flew open, and 
 " Lord Chancellor " was announced ; when lo ! Lord Lough- 
 borough walked in. The servant probably considered him, 
 and had been used to call him so, three weeks ago.' 
 
 The Prince not only intended awarding his followers high 
 offices of State, but his liberality went further, and he 
 selected three of them as the future husbands of the three 
 marriageable Princesses ; however, this intended generosity 
 on his part was principally contemplated by way of coun- 
 tenancing his own union with a subject. 
 
 The party spirit which divided the town was not long in 
 reaching the royal physicians. A short time after the King's 
 removal to Kew, a fresh medical adviser, in the person of 
 the Rev. Francis Willis, was added to their staff, which was 
 yet further increased a little later on by the addition of his 
 son, Dr. John Willis. The elder was a Lincolnshire clergy- 
 man, who had for some years made madness his special 
 study, and who kept a private asylum, where he had given 
 practical proofs of the success of his treatment. Dr. Willis 
 was an honest, simple-minded man, who, happily for his 
 patient, understood more about his case than those who had 
 
 16 2
 
 244 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 been, and yet remained, in attendance on him. From their 
 harsh treatment of him, the King regarded them all with an 
 abhorrence which he was ready to extend to his new atten- 
 dant. When Willis was introduced to him, His Majesty 
 looked at him quietly, and then asked why he had given up 
 his sacred calling for a profession which brought him more 
 worldly profit 
 
 ' Sir,' answered Willis, ' our Saviour went about healing the 
 sick.' 
 
 'Yes,' said the King sagely, ' but He did not get seven 
 hundred a year for it' 
 
 His Majesty, however, soon perceived that this new doctor 
 was of a different type from his colleagues ; his mild, firm, 
 and humane treatment worked a beneficial effect on his 
 patient, over whom he quickly gained a strong influence. 
 Even at his second interview the King opened his mind to 
 him, complained of the insolence to which he was subjected 
 by the pages ; of not being permitted to see his wife or 
 daughters, of not being allowed the use of a knife, or fork, or 
 razor, fearing he might cut his throat, at which he was most 
 indignant. Dr. Willis soothed him, and promised him all 
 that he required. 
 
 'Your Majesty is too good a Christian, and has too much 
 sense of what you owe your people, to commit such an act,' 
 he said, handing him a razor, with which the King quietly 
 shaved himself. He likewise allowed him the use of a knife 
 and fork at table, adding that, with His Majesty's leave, he 
 would have the pleasure of dining with him. Once, when he 
 was walking in the garden, he looked up wistfully at the 
 windows of the apartments occupied by the Princesses ; but, 
 seeing no friendly face there, the poor prisoner complained 
 very heavily that his daughters would not show themselves 
 to him. ' In consequence,' Dr. Willis said, in his examina- 
 tion before the Commons' Committee, ' the next day I did 
 desire that they should appear, and myself stood at the
 
 HIS MAJESTY READS KING LEAR. 245 
 
 window with two of the Princesses when His Majesty was 
 coming by; and His Majesty showed extravagant joy at 
 the sight of them, though he said his eyes did not 
 suffer him to see the Princess Amelia as well as he could 
 wish.' 
 
 But yet the greatest privilege granted him was permission 
 to see the Queen, and their meeting was most affecting. He 
 held her hand during the half-hour's interview allowed him, 
 kissed it repeatedly, and took the young Princess Amelia on 
 his knee ; to add to his kindness, Dr. Willis had the German 
 page, Ernst, dismissed. 
 
 The improvement which the King made under the care of 
 the Willises was by no means agreeable to the other physi- 
 cians, headed by Dr. Warren, who from the first asserted 
 that His Majesty was a confirmed lunatic ; and, having 
 once committed himself to such an opinion, he stoutly 
 maintained it, even to within a few days of the King's per- 
 fect restoration, on which occasion he, in the presence of 
 the Prince, quarrelled with Sir Lucas Pepys for expressing a 
 doubt regarding the infallibility of his decision. 
 
 On the other hand, Dr. Willis held it that the royal 
 patient's recovery was but a question of time ; he even went 
 further, and boldly asserted that, had the King been in a 
 private station, a few weeks would have sufficed to restore 
 his intellect. Dr. Willis was, therefore, looked up to, and 
 lauded by those who ardently hoped for the King's recovery ; 
 whilst Dr. Warren, whose words had greatly influenced the 
 conduct of the Princes and their friends, was believed in 
 arid relied on by them. As may be supposed, Warren was 
 continually finding fault with Willis's treatment of the King, 
 and, during one of the inquiries as to His Majesty's health 
 by the Commons' Committee, the former complained that he 
 had one day found His Majesty reading ' King 1 ' Lear,' and, 
 when he had asked who it was that gave it to him, the King 
 had stated it was Dr. Willis.. This Willis denied, not that
 
 246 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 he was really guilty of falsehood, but because the shrewdness 
 of his patient deceived him. 
 
 His Majesty had urgently requested Willis to let him read 
 this play, in which he fancied he saw a parallel between the 
 sad old king and himself ; but this the doctor, though indul- 
 gent in many ways, at once refused. The King pressed 
 him no further, but, after a while, begged that he might be 
 allowed a copy of Coleman's works, in which he was aware 
 ' King Lear,' as altered and ' corrected ' ! by Coleman, was 
 included. Dr. Willis was ignorant of this, and granted the 
 request 
 
 When, some time after, the King's daughters came to visit 
 him, he spoke much to them of ' King Lear.' 
 
 ' The play is very beautiful, very affecting, very awful,' 
 he said sadly. ' I am like poor Lear,' he added ; ' but, 
 thank God, I have no Regan, no Goneril, but three Cor- 
 delias.' 
 
 Meanwhile, the Regency Bill was before Parliament. The 
 second examination of the doctors took place in January ; 
 Warren declared, if there was any change in the King, it 
 was for the worse ; Willis expressed himself of a contrary 
 opinion, and was severely cross-examined by the Prince's 
 friends who sat on the Committee, and occasionally censured 
 him. It was even insinuated that he was acting in collusion 
 with the Queen, in order to misrepresent His Majesty's 
 condition, and so defeat the Prince's claims. The Bill, how- 
 ever, passed the Commons, and was carried to the Lords on 
 February 12. 
 
 The Opposition, having exhausted their efforts to gain 
 better terms for the Regent, were now anxious the Bill should 
 pass as quickly as possible, in order that they might come 
 into power without further delay. But, before it could 
 receive the sanction of the Lords, a sudden and favourable 
 change was reported in the King, and Willis announced his 
 patient convalescent.
 
 DR. WILLIS AND THE CHANCELLOR. 247 
 
 When Willis pronounced him cured, Warren jealously 
 refused to agree with him, and the other doctors maintained 
 a cautious reserve. Willis, therefore, boldly came forward, 
 and declared to the Lord Chancellor that the King's state 
 was such that the Regency Bill ought not to be proceeded 
 with. Thurlow informed him he did not believe it ; when 
 Willis said he would publish the King's restoration, and 
 threatened the Lord Chancellor with impeachment if he 
 dared to act on the assumption of His Majesty's incapacity. 
 The result of this was, the Chancellor had an interview with 
 His Majesty, lasting two hours, which satisfied him that 
 Willis was right, and the Bill was therefore abandoned. On 
 February 23, 1789, the King wrote to Pitt announcing his 
 recovery ; and three days later the last bulletin was issued 
 declaring ' the entire cessation of His Majesty's illness,' and 
 was signed by Dr. Willis, Sir George Barker, and Sir Lucas 
 Pepys. 
 
 This sudden convalescence gave a turn to political affairs 
 which neither the Prince nor his supporters expected, and 
 great was their discomfort thereat ; at first they refused to 
 believe it, but when it could be no longer denied, they were 
 plunged into deep confusion. Edmund Burke, one of His 
 Royal Highness's most enthusiastic supporters, became 
 almost mad from disappointment ; Charles Fox, who had 
 been ailing for some time, grew seriously ill ; and the 
 Princes, according to Lord Bulkeley, were ' quite desperate, 
 and endeavoured to drown their cares, disappointments, and 
 internal chagrin in wine and dissipation.' The Duke of 
 York, he adds, ' plays much at tennis, and has a score with 
 all the blacklegs ; and in the public court tells them they 
 shall be paid as soon as his father can settle with him some 
 Osnaburgh money which he owes him.' 
 
 When the King's recovery was fully established, the 
 Princes became anxious to see him, in order that they might, 
 if possible, disabuse his mind of all prejudice which their
 
 248 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 conduct was calculated to cause ; accordingly, they intimated 
 a desire to visit their father, who agreed to receive them, 
 and, as he wrote to Pitt after the interview, ' chose the 
 meeting should be in the Queen's apartments, that all parties 
 might have that caution which at the present hour could but 
 be judicious.' The hour appointed by the King for their 
 meeting was one o'clock, but their Royal Highnesses, having 
 been rioting and drunk at a masquerade the previous night, 
 did not arrive at Kew before half-past two. The King 
 embraced them both, and shed tears ; the visit lasted but 
 half an hour, and care was taken, as the King said, ' that 
 the conversation should be general and cordial. They 
 seemed satisfied,' he added. 
 
 Lord Bulkeley writes, ' Lord Winchelsea, who was at Kew 
 the whole time, told me that, when they came out, they told 
 Colonel Digby that they were delighted with the King's 
 being so well, and remarked that two things in the half-hour's 
 conference which they had with him had struck them very 
 forcibly; that he had observed to them how much better he 
 played at piquet than Mr. Charles Hawkins, and that, since 
 he had been ill, he had rubbed up all his Latin ; and these 
 facts, which are facts, I expect to hear magnified by the 
 Carl ton House runners into instances of insanity.' 
 
 The day after the Princes' visit, Mr. Grenville writes to 
 Lord Buckingham : ' The two Princes were at Kew yester- 
 day, and saw the King in the Queen's apartments. She was 
 present the whole time, a precaution for which, God knows, 
 there was too much reason. They kept him waiting a 
 considerable time before they arrived; and, after they left 
 him, drove immediately to Mrs. Armstead's, in Park Street, 
 in hopes of finding Fox there, to give him an account of 
 what had passed. He not being in town, they amused 
 themselves yesterday evening with spreading about a report 
 that the King was still out of his mind, and in quoting 
 phrases of his, to which they gave that turn. It is certainly
 
 THERE WERE CERTAIN STRINGS. 249 
 
 a decent and becoming thing that, when all the King's 
 physicians, all his attendants, and his two principal Ministers 
 agree in pronouncing him well, his two sons should deny it. 
 And the reflection that the Prince of Wales was to have had 
 the government, and the Duke of York the command of the 
 army during his illness, makes the representation of his 
 actual state, when coming from them, more peculiarly proper 
 and edifying. I bless God that it is yet some time before 
 these matured and ripened virtues will be visited upon us 
 in the form of a government.' 
 
 The Prince's friends, as usual, took their cue from him ; 
 when the King's name was mentioned, they shook their 
 heads, admitted with some hesitation His Majesty was 
 better, but were generally inclined to assert, with Lord 
 Rawdon, that, though the King was tranquil on ordinary 
 subjects, 'there were certain strings which will, whenever 
 they are touched, produce false music again.' 
 
 On March 9, the royal physicians left Kew, and on the 
 evening of the following day, there was a general illumination 
 on a magnificent scale of the streets, squares, and suburbs 
 of London. Signs of the people's joy and satisfaction at 
 the King's recovery, or more strictly speaking, at being 
 delivered from the reign of the Regent, were universal The 
 whole city was one blaze of light from end to end, literally 
 extending from Hampstead and Highgate to Clapham, from 
 Greenwich to Kensington ; there was no house that did not 
 bear some decoration, no window that was not lighted ; even 
 the cobblers' stalls in the streets exhibited rows of farthing 
 candles. The thoroughfares were thronged with crowds; 
 in the midst of which the Queen and her daughters drove, 
 gratified by the scenes that everywhere met their gaze. 
 
 On this night, the Prince and Duke of York, having dined 
 heartily, were on their way to the opera in His Royal High- 
 ness's carriage, which, in some of the narrow streets, got 
 blocked up amongst other coaches. The mob, soon re-
 
 250 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 cognising the Princes, called out, 'God save the King;' 
 when the Prince let down the glass of his coach, and joined 
 in the cry. Then one sturdy fellow asked him to call out, 
 ' Pitt for ever ! God bless Pitt !' which the Prince refused, 
 but shouted out, ' Fox for ever ! God bless Fox !' The mob, 
 incensed at this, insisted on him crying, ' Pitt for ever !' but 
 the Prince angrily said, ' Damn Pitt. Fox for ever !' This 
 was too much for the crowd, then in a state of great excite- 
 ment. One man sought to pull the coach-door open, on 
 which the Prince, now much frightened, endeavoured to 
 jump out and escape, but the Duke of York held him back, 
 hit the man a blow on the head, and called to the coach- 
 man to drive on, which he was now enabled to do at a 
 great pace, the door of the carriage flapping about as they 
 went 
 
 When the opera was over, the Prince, who had met some 
 of his friends, and was in excellent spirits, declared he would 
 walk through the crowd to Carlton House; and when he 
 arrived there, he insisted on walking through the streets to 
 see the illuminations. After some time, his friends first 
 persuaded him to call at Brooks', when they pushed their 
 way, in a right merry fashion, through Pall Mall. At St. 
 James's, he fell in with a gang of butchers, with marrow- 
 bones and cleavers, who began to play before him, and clear 
 the way for him, shouting and performing all the way up St. 
 James's Street, and giving him three cheers when he reached 
 his destination, in return for which civility he gave them ten 
 guineas. He then tarried some time at the club, from where 
 he was persuaded by his friends to drive home ; a piece of 
 advice with which he was obliged to comply. 
 
 A few days after this general rejoicing, the King and his 
 family returned to Windsor, and he then announced his 
 intention of celebrating his recovery by a public thanks- 
 giving. Many of his friends sought to dissuade him from 
 this design, fearing the excitement might produce an ill
 
 GOING TO ST. PAUL'S. 251 
 
 effect on his mind ; amongst whom was his Grace of Canter- 
 bury. 
 
 ' My Lord Archbishop,' answered the King, { 1 have thrice 
 read over the evidence of the physicians on my case, and, if 
 I can stand that, I can stand anything.' 
 
 The ceremony was therefore fixed for April 23, on which 
 day the King, accompanied by the Queen and Princesses, 
 his brothers, the Dukes of Cumberland and Gloucester, and 
 his sons, the Prince of Wales, Duke of York, and Prince 
 William, and attended by the Lords and Commons, and 
 great officers of the State, went to St Paul's. The procession 
 set out at eight o'clock in the morning, headed by the Mem- 
 bers of the House of Commons in their coaches, who were 
 followed by the Masters of Chancery, judges, and peers, 
 such of the latter as were knights wearing the collars of their 
 respective orders; finally, came the royal family, attended 
 by the Horse Guards, the King's coach being drawn by eight 
 cream-coloured horses. The streets through which the 
 stately procession passed were lined by the Foot Guards as 
 far as Temple Bar, and by the Artillery Company and City 
 Militia from thence to St. Paul's. Dense and anxious crowds 
 pressed forward to see and greet the King ; balconies were 
 erected along the way, and decorated with coloured cloths ; 
 the church-steeples were hung with flags and streamers; 
 bells rang incessantly, and cannon thundered from the 
 Tower and St. James's. 
 
 At Temple Bar the King was met by the Lord Mayor in 
 a crimson velvet gown, accompanied by the Sheriffs in 
 scarlet gowns, and by a deputation from the Aldermen and 
 Common Council, being all on horseback ; the Lord Mayor 
 surrendered the City sword to His Majesty, who returned it 
 to his good keeping, when his Lordship carried it bare- 
 headed before his Sovereign to St. Paul's. The King 
 looked tranquil and well, though somewhat thinner than 
 before his illness, and was much affected by the demonstra-
 
 252 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 tion of joy which greeted him. He was dressed in the 
 Windsor uniform, the Queen and Princesses being arrayed 
 in blue silks trimmed with white, and bandeaux inscribed, 
 ' God save the King.' 
 
 As the procession moved slowly through Pall Mall, His 
 Majesty was received with but slight applause, but the 
 Prince of Wales, who had stationed his partisans there for 
 the purpose, was loudly cheered, as he was likewise in parts 
 of the Strand, where he had also posted his friends and 
 dependents ; but from Cockspur Street to St. Paul's the 
 huzzas which met the King were hearty and continual, 
 which caused His Royal Highness to lose his temper 
 completely, and he never recovered it afterwards, ' for at St. 
 Paul's,' says Lord Bulkeley, ' he was in the worst humour 
 possible, and did everything he could to expose himself in 
 the face of an amazing concourse of persons, and of all the 
 foreign ministers.' 
 
 Arrived at the great cathedral, the King was met at the 
 west door by the Bishops of London and Lincoln, between 
 whom he walked, preceded by the Marquis of Stafford 
 carrying the sword of state. Scarcely had he entered when 
 the pure fresh voices of five thousand children burst in a 
 loud thanksgiving chorus on his ears ; for a moment the 
 King's feelings were stirred to their depths, he covered his 
 face with his hands and silently wept, s He, however, soon 
 recovered himself. ' Now,' he whispered to the Bishop ot 
 Lincoln, 'I feel that I have been ill' He took his seat by 
 the Queen under a canopy of state near the west end, 
 opposite the altar. There, in the presence of the peers and 
 peeresses of the realm, the foreign ministers, officers of state, 
 and Members of the House of Commons, he returned 
 humble thanksgiving for his recovery ; but during these 
 solemn moments, when the Queen and Princesses and many 
 present could not restrain their tears, the Prince of Wales 
 his brothers, and his uncles, in the face of that vast
 
 CONDUCT 'OF THE PRINCES. 253 
 
 concourse, 'talked to each other the whole time of the 
 service,' as Lord Bulkeley writes, ' and behaved in such an 
 indecent manner that was quite shocking.' Nor was this 
 all ^ When the service was concluded, the Prince, without 
 waiting for the King, rushed to his carriage, and, attended 
 by a number of the mob, drove off, leaving the remainder 
 of the procession to accompany His Majesty. 
 
 The town now became for a while the scene of vast 
 gaiety : crowds thronged to St. James's to offer their con- 
 gratulations to the King, and amongst others came some of 
 the followers of the Prince of Wales. One of the King's 
 friends, looking one day at a group of these in the royal 
 drawing-room, said quietly : 
 
 * Tempora mutantur et nos mutamur in illis? 
 
 'Yes,' said a friend, who overheard him, ' the King's re- 
 covered, thanks to Doctor Willis? 
 
 The Queen gave a magnificent ball, which was succeeded 
 by superb entertainments by the Spanish and French am- 
 bassadors. At that given by the latter, Her Majesty, the 
 Princesses, the Prince of Wales and his two brothers were 
 present, but these gentlemen would ' neither dance nor stay 
 to supper, lest they should have the appearance of paying 
 the smallest attention to Her Majesty.' White's Club, fre- 
 quented by Pitt and his supporters, was not behindhand in 
 doing honour to the occasion, and resolved to give a fete at 
 the Pantheon to celebrate the double event of the King's 
 birthday and recovery. The Queen and Princesses signified 
 their intention of being present, and the entertainment was 
 to be given on a scale of great splendour ; in order to render 
 it as select as possible, the price of the tickets was fixed at 
 three guineas and a half each. The ladies who were to 
 attend determined to show their loyalty, and resolved to 
 dress all in white, and wear on the fronts of their head- 
 dresses the motto, ' God save the King,' in letters of gold. 
 
 Whilst all these preparations were being made, the Prince
 
 254 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 used every exertion to keep his friends away from the fete, 
 and sent round to canvass the non-attendance of everyone 
 of his party ; when tickets were forwarded to him and the 
 Duke of York, they accepted them, but sent them immedi- 
 ately to Hookham's Library in Bond Street, to be sold to 
 anyone who would buy them. The club committee, hearing 
 of this indignity, adopted a regulation that every member 
 who presented tickets should sign them, in order to keep 
 the company amongst which the Queen and her daughters 
 were to mix select ; but, their Royal Highnesses hearing of 
 this, the Duke of York instantly sent for the tickets, and 
 wrote his name on the backs of them when they were sold. 
 On the same night that this fete in honour of his father was 
 held, the officers of the Guards got up a ball expressly for 
 this gracious youth, the female guests at which were noted 
 courtesans. 
 
 The conduct of both the Princes, indeed, sorely grieved their 
 parents, to whom, under the mask of attention, they showed 
 every possible insult. The behaviour of the Prince of Wales 
 did not surprise his father, who had ample proof of it before 
 his illness ; but that his favourite son, the Duke of York, 
 should follow so closely in his brother's infamous ways was 
 a bitter pang. ' It kills me it goes to my soul ; I know 
 not how to bear it,' was His Majesty's expression when 
 speaking of the Duke's open contempt for him. The Queen 
 publicly resented their insults, as might be expected, and 
 looked coldly on those who had sided with them during the 
 King's madness. Amongst such was included Dr. Watson, 
 Bishop of Llandaff. When this Right Reverend Father in 
 God believed the King's recovery was impossible, he stood 
 up in the House of Lords and delivered himself of a learned 
 speech, declaring the full powers of His Majesty should be 
 vested without restraint in the disreputable Regent 
 
 It may be mentioned that at the time the holy man was 
 inspired with these sentiments, the snug See of St Asaph
 
 THE QUEEN AND THE BISHOP. 255 
 
 had just become vacant ; which would be in the Prince's 
 power to bestow when he came into full authority Not in 
 the least ashamed of his late action, so objectionable to Her 
 Majesty, the Bishop made his episcopal appearance at an 
 early drawing-room after the recovery, to offer her his con- 
 gratulations. He had, indeed, in the meantime, in conjunc- 
 tion with his clergy, presented addresses to their Majesties, 
 expressive of his gratitude to God for the restoration to 
 health which had been so mercifully vouchsafed to his 
 gracious Sovereign, and of his admiration for Her Majesty's 
 ' amiableness and purity as a Queen, as a wife, and as a 
 mother.' 
 
 So much eloquence had not, however, the effect of 
 soothing the royal lady's wrath, and she received the holy 
 man, as he tells us, ' with a degree of coldness which would 
 have appeared to herself ridiculous and ill-placed, could she 
 have imagined how little a mind such as mine regarded, in 
 its honourable proceedings, the displeasure of a woman, 
 though that woman happened to be a Queen.' 
 
 The Prince of Wales was standing by on this occasion, 
 and knowing Her Majesty's reasons for slighting the Bishop, 
 went forward, spoke to him in a manner more than usually 
 friendly, and invited him to dinner. But his Grace, though 
 flattered by such extreme courtesy, hesitated before con- 
 senting to step within the threshold of such a disreputable 
 mansion as Carlton House ; when His Royal Highness 
 turned to Sir Thomas Dundas and desired him to give a 
 dinner at his residence, which the good Bishop duly attended, 
 and where he had the pleasure of meeting His Royal High- 
 ness of York, and several of his boon companions, and of 
 being spoken of by the Prince as a man whose talents should 
 never be lost to the public. ' And mind who it is that tells 
 you so,' said His Highness, in the excess of his after-dinner 
 friendship and condescension. 
 
 But this was by no means the only slight which Her
 
 256 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS 
 
 Majesty administered to those who had supported the 
 Opposition ; none such were invited to her parties at 
 Buckingham House, a discourtesy which on one occasion 
 at least was extended to her sons, to whom she wrote that 
 they would be welcome to her concert, but that the 
 entertainment to follow was intended for those who had 
 supported the King on a late occasion. The Princes in 
 return abused their gracious mother in round terms, and, 
 according to Lady Harcourt's diary, slandered the Princesses 
 in a manner too gross to be repeated in these pages. The 
 ill-feeling between the royal mother and her sons was 
 strengthened on the occasion of the duel fought between 
 the Duke of York and Colonel Lennox of the Coldstream 
 Guards, nephew and successor of Charles, Duke of Rich- 
 mond. 
 
 The royal Duke had, at a public masquerade, said that 
 * language had been used at D'Aubigny's Club towards 
 Colonel Lennox to which no gentleman ought to submit.' 
 This imputation of cowardice was ' made to a masque,' upon 
 the supposition that it covered the person of Colonel Lennox. 
 Next day, May 15, being a field-day of the Coldstream 
 Guards, Colonel Lennox stepped up to the Duke, and 
 asked him for an explanation of his words. In answer, His 
 Royal Highness, who was his superior officer, briefly ordered 
 him to return to his post. After parade, he summoned 
 Colonel Lennox, and, in the orderly-room, before the officers, 
 asked him to state his complaint; upon this the Colonel 
 demanded an explanation, which the Duke refused. Colonel 
 Lennox then wrote to every member of the club, desiring 
 each of them to let him know if he could recollect any 
 expression to have been used in his presence which could 
 bear the construction put upon it by the Duke. No member 
 remembering to have heard such, Colonel Lennox once 
 more demanded either an explanation or satisfaction. His 
 Royal Highness being unable to give the former, was
 
 THE DUKE OF YORK'S DUEL. 257 
 
 unless he wished to brand himself as a coward compelled 
 to give the latter. 
 
 A duel was therefore arranged to take place on Wimbledon 
 Common. Lord Rawdon, the Prince of Wales's friend, 
 acted as the Duke's second, and the Earl of Winchelsea, 
 one of the Lords of the King's Bedchamber, attended Colonel 
 Lennox. The Duke did not discharge his pistol, but a ball 
 from his adversary's grazed a curl at the side of his royal 
 head. After this narrow escape, Lord Winchelsea strove to 
 induce the Duke to give Colonel Lennox an explanation of 
 his words ; but this he doggedly refused, and even declined 
 to repeat the usual phrase, that he believed his antagonist to 
 be a man of honour and courage. He had not fired, he said, 
 nor was it his intention to fire ; but the Colonel might repeat 
 his fire, if he chose. This was, of course, out of the question. 
 They therefore left the common, and this duel, which ended 
 in this unsatisfactory manner, had the effect of lowering the 
 Royal Duke in the eyes of his friends and the people 
 generally. 
 
 When the duel was over, the gallant Duke returned to 
 Carlton House, where he found the Prince walking about 
 the yard in great agitation, impatiently waiting news of the 
 result ' It is all over,' the Duke said, coming up to him 
 coolly, ' and all is quite well ; but I have not time to tell you 
 the particulars, for I must go to the tennis-court.' The 
 Prince expressed his desire that the tennis-court might go 
 to regions uncomfortably warm, and wished to hear the full 
 details. When he received these, he set off for Kew, where 
 the King was, and sent up a message to say he wished to 
 see His Majesty alone. 'Very well, very well,' said the 
 monarch ; ' but I want just to go up to the Queen first' 
 
 When he received the Prince, not only Her Majesty, but 
 the Princesses, were present. The Prince said he had 
 something particular to say, and begged that the Princesses 
 might retire. He then fully related the occurrence which had 
 
 ** 17
 
 258 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 led to the duel, and turning to the Queen, said, ' Madame, 
 you know I acquainted you with these circumstances a 
 week ago ;' which he had, in order that the duel might be 
 stopped by authority. The King said, ' Ah, indeed ! I 
 never heard a word of it before.' When he described the 
 Duke's escape, she calmly, and without the slightest dis- 
 composure, looked out of the window. 
 
 The affair soon got spoken of, and caused much sensation 
 in town ; but neither Colonel Lennox nor his second re- 
 ceived any censure from the Court. Lord Winchelsea was 
 continued in his place as Lord of the Bedchamber, and 
 Colonel Lennox was received by the Queen next day ' with 
 every mark of graciousness and favour.' To further indicate 
 her approbation of his conduct, she invited him, soon after 
 the duel, to a Court ball, where she publicly showed him 
 marked attention, and ' kissed her fan to him two or three 
 times, though half the length of the room lay between them.' 
 This had the effect on the Princes which was desired ; so 
 indignant did the Prince of Wales become, that he made it 
 a subject of complaint to the King. 
 
 ' Your Majesty is my witness,' he wrote, ' that during the 
 whole relation the Queen did not utter a syllable either of 
 alarm at the imminent danger which had threatened the life 
 of my brother but an hour before, of joy and satisfaction at 
 his safety, or of general tenderness and affection towards 
 him, which might appear natural in moments thus afflicting. 
 Nor were these the only testimonies of indifference that I 
 was obliged to observe. For your Majesty must well re- 
 member that the first word the Queen pronounced, and the 
 whole tenor of the only conversation she afterwards held, 
 was a defence of Mr. Lennox's conduct, strongly implying a 
 censure on that of my brother.'
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 The Royal Princes The Duke of Clarence Mrs. Jordan at 
 Richmond The Wicked Duke of Queensberry Colonel 
 FitzClarence and the Lieutenant The Duke of York and 
 his Duchess Trial before the House of Commons The 
 Duchess of York and her Dogs The Duke of Sussex and 
 Lady Augusta Murray The Duke of Cumberland The 
 Sellis Scandal The Duke and Lady Graves The Duke's 
 Marriage The Queen and the New Duchess. 
 
 WITHIN the next few years, some of the Royal Princes came 
 into prominent notice. Amongst them was the King's third 
 son, William, created Duke of Clarence in 1789, who after- 
 wards came to the throne as William IV. When he had 
 finished his education in Germany, he had been sent into 
 the navy, and made commander of the Pegase ; but during 
 his father's illness, believing that he would be soon rid of 
 all further governance, he suddenly returned to town. 
 
 Shortly after his creation as Duke of Clarence he resided 
 at Richmond, not far from Walpole, who describes the 
 residence as ' a house in the middle of a village with nothing 
 but a green short apron to the river, a situation only fit for 
 an old gentlewoman who has put out her knee-pans and 
 loves cards.' Here he entertained a gay and gallant com- 
 pany, amongst whom were the Prince of Wales and Duke 
 of York, Captain Jack Payne, the millionnaire Duke of 
 Queensberry, and Mrs. Jordan. This lady, afterwards 
 famous as the mistress of the Duke of Clarence, was of 
 Irish nationality, having first seen the light of the world in 
 
 17 2
 
 -6o COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 Waterford, a city which also gave birth to Charles Kean. 
 At this period, when she occasionally joined the Duke's 
 guests, she was playing at Drury Lane, where her attractions, 
 if not her talents, bade fair to rival those of the great Siddons. 
 
 In the year 1791, Mrs. Jordan, who had already been the 
 mistress of Ford, proprietor of Drury Lane Theatre, and 
 the mother of his four children, left him to become the 
 protegee of the Duke, who promised to allow her a thousand 
 a year, at which piece of generosity the King was much 
 incensed. 
 
 ' What, what you keep an actress ?' said His Majesty 
 to the Duke. ' Yes, sir,' he answered, readily enough. 
 
 ' How much do you allow her ? What what ?' 
 
 ' A thousand a year.' ' A thousand a year !' said His 
 Gracious Majesty, in astonishment. 'What what? that's 
 too much. Give her five hundred. What what what ?' 
 It happened, however, that the actress derived no pecuniary 
 benefit from her royal lover's promise ; her professional earn- 
 ings amounted to no less than .5,000 a year, to which she 
 added an annuity of ,1,000, settled on her by a relative of 
 her mother's. Soon after she had formed a connection with 
 the Duke, it was noticed that, when she drove to the treasury 
 door of the theatre to receive her salary, she was invariably 
 accompanied by this scion of royalty, whom public gossip 
 plainly said appropriated her earnings ; nay, it was even 
 proved after her death that her nightly salaries at Drury Lane 
 were constantly paid in advance, and the sums received by a 
 messenger, who hurried with them to a gambling-house in 
 Pall Mall, where the Duke played for high stakes. It was 
 well known that before her intimacy with him commenced, 
 she had saved a handsome fortune, and it is a fact in her 
 biographical history that she died abroad in neglect, and, if 
 not in poverty, at least in debt. Though continually suffer- 
 ing from public slights in consequence of her relationship 
 with the Duke, that worthy did not think well of allowing
 
 COLONEL FITZCLARENCE. 261 
 
 the mother of his children to withdraw into the seclusion of 
 private life, whilst her labours brought such a profitable 
 return to the royal coffers. 
 
 Mrs. Jordan bore the Duke ten children, the eldest of 
 whom was raised to the peerage as Earl of Munster, and to 
 the others were granted ' the title and precedency of the 
 younger issue of a Marquess.' 
 
 This illegitimate progeny became in after years extremely 
 tenacious of their rank, and singularly haughty in their 
 manners ; but occasionally these characteristics were severely 
 checked. A story is told of the second son, Colonel Fitz- 
 Clarence, who, dining one day as the guest of some brother 
 officers, noted a young lieutenant carving* fowls in a 
 particularly awkward manner. The Colonel looked on with 
 ill-concealed disgust for some time, and then remarked 
 sneeringly, ' My father frequently said that to carve well was 
 one of the signs of a gentleman.' The young lieutenant laid 
 down his knife and fork for a minute, and looking the 
 speaker full in the face, coolly asked, ' And pray, Colonel 
 FitzClarence, what did your mother say ?' Profound silence 
 followed the question. 
 
 The Duke, after some years, grew tired of the mother of 
 his ten children, and coolly discarded her. 
 
 ' You have probably heard,' writes Fremantle to the Duke 
 of Buckingham, ' all the history of the Duke of Clarence. 
 Before he went to Ramsgate, he wrote to Lady Catherine 
 Long to propose, who wrote him a very proper letter in 
 answer, declining the honour in the most decided terms. 
 After his arrival, he proposed three or four times more, and 
 upon his return to town, sent her an abstract of the Royal 
 Marriage Act altered, as he said it had been agreed to by the 
 Prince of Wales, whom he had consulted, and also conveyed 
 the Queen's best wishes and regards to neither of whom 
 had he said one single word on the subject. Upon rinding 
 she had accepted Pole, he wrote to Lord Keith to propose
 
 262 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 for Miss Elphinstone, who, in her most decided and peremp- 
 tory terms, rejected him ; he is, notwithstanding, gone to his 
 house. During all this, when he returned to town, he wrote 
 to Mrs. Jordan at Bushey to say she might have half the 
 children, viz., five, and he would allow her ^800 per annum. 
 She is most stout in rejecting all compromise till he has paid 
 her what he owes her ; she stating that during the twenty 
 years she has lived with him, he has constantly received and 
 spent all her earnings by acting ; and that she is now a beggar 
 by living with, and at times supporting, him. This she re- 
 peats to all the neighbourhood of Bushey, where she remains, 
 and is determined to continue. While all his gallantry was 
 going forward at Ramsgate, the Duke of Cumberland (who 
 must interfere in everything) apprised Mrs. Jordan of what 
 he was doing. Mrs. Jordan then writes him a most furious 
 letter, and another to the Duke of Cumberland, to thank him 
 for the information, and by mistake directs them wrong : in 
 consequence of which, there has been, of course, a scene 
 between the brothers. Altogether, the conduct of these 
 illustrious personages is a most melancholy and alarming 
 feature in the difficulties which every hour increase upon us ; 
 and it is not without great forbearance one can impute it to 
 any other ground but an affection of the same nature as that 
 under which the King labours.' 
 
 Later on, the Royal Duke, who was still anxious to bestow 
 the honour of his hand in marriage, proposed to Miss Wyke- 
 ham, and the same correspondent, writing on the subject, 
 says : 
 
 ' There is a grand emotion in the royal family, and with 
 some reason. The Duke of Clarence has thought proper to 
 propose to Miss Wykeham, who has accepted him. The 
 Prince, accompanied by the Duchess of Gloucester, went to 
 Windsor on Tuesday to inform the Queen of this happy 
 event, who was of course outrageous. The Council have 
 sat twice upon the business, and it is determined, as I under-
 
 'FAR FROM HANDSOME' 263 
 
 stand, to oppose it. My own private belief is that the Prince 
 has been encouraging the Duke of Clarence to it at Brighton, 
 and now turns short round upon him, as is usual, finding it 
 so highly objectionable.' 
 
 The Duke was finally persuaded to break off the match ; 
 he was, therefore, once more available in the matrimonial 
 market, and was finally accepted by a Princess of Saxe- 
 Meiningen, who had no objection to the Jordan scandal and 
 ten illegitimate children. 
 
 In September, 1791, the Duke of York was married at 
 Berlin to the Princess Frederica, eldest daughter of Frederick 
 William II., King of Prussia, and was subsequently re- 
 married, in the Queen's drawing-room at Buckingham 
 House, by the Archbishop of Canterbury in November. 
 Even so good and gracious a courtier as Lord Malmesbury 
 could not help admitting that the new Duchess ' was far 
 from handsome ;' but in return for such admission, it was 
 avowed that she was ' lively, sensible, tractable, and formed 
 to confer happiness on her husband.' 
 
 The Duke and the Prince of Wales had been forgiven by 
 their parents, and had been taken once more into their 
 Majesties' favour. The bridegroom, therefore, to prove his 
 submission to the Queen, had left to her selection the nomi- 
 nation of the ladies of his future household : 
 
 ' This,' said the wily Lord Malmesbury, who had suggested 
 the act to His Royal Highness, ' will relieve the Duke from 
 the embarrassment of applications, and particularly such as 
 might be suggested to the Prince to make, which it would 
 be difficult for him to refuse, and from the complexion of the 
 Prince's society, it might be by no means advisable for him 
 to grant, as it is of the last consequence that the Duchess 
 should begin well, and under the most respectable impressions 
 possible.' 
 
 The royal bride had a dowry of ^30,000, and her father, 
 moreover, paid the debts of her profligate husband, which
 
 264 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 had amounted to 20,000. A grateful nation had also 
 voted the Prince, whose subsequent conduct proved a dis- 
 grace to his country, 18,000 per annum, which, added to 
 the sum of ,12,000 a year already granted him, and 7,000 
 a year levied on the Irish Establishment, gave him a yearly 
 income of 37,000, all of which soon proved insufficient 
 for his wants. For a while the Duke and Duchess lived in 
 harmony ; she made herself a favourite not only with the 
 royal family, but with all who came in contact with her ; she 
 detested ceremony ; sought retirement, and loved her 
 husband until his glaring vices repelled her. He was not 
 long in accomplishing this. Soon after marriage he re- 
 sumed his connection, as the Duchess of Brunswick told 
 Lord Malmesbury, with a former mistress, a fact which his 
 spouse was graciously inclined to overlook ; but his repeated 
 infidelities, and the grossly open manner with which they 
 were conducted, gradually alienated all her affections from 
 him, and in six years after their union they separated, though 
 in the latter years of their lives they lived beneath the same 
 roof. 
 
 In 1793 he was placed in command of the English troops 
 which were destined to aid the army under the Prince of 
 Saxe-Coburg in Holland, where he fought with some show 
 of spirit. In the following year he again embarked for the 
 Continent, to fight the French army under General Pichegru, 
 who forced him to cross the Meuse, and to retreat beyond 
 the Waal. So unsuccessful did his generalship prove, and 
 such a disaster did it cause his country, that Pitt was obliged, 
 in consequence, as he said, of the want of confidence felt by 
 the army in ' his general management,' to insist upon the 
 King recalling this gallant son of Mars from a post for which 
 he proved himself so eminently unsuited. 
 
 His Majesty did so with great reluctance, but soothed the 
 Royal Duke's feelings by creating him, three weeks after 
 his return. Field-marshal and Commander-in-Chief of His
 
 CHARGES AGAINST THE DUKE. 265 
 
 Majesty's land forces ; posts which the death of Lord Am- 
 herst, a veteran of four-score, had opportunely left vacant 
 for a man his junior by half a century. How the Duke was 
 compelled to quit these high offices remains to be told. In 
 1799 he again commenced a campaign against the French 
 in Holland, heading an army of 35,000 men, including 
 Russians ; but here, owing to his blunders and want of 
 generalship, the greatest disasters befell his troops, and he 
 was compelled to enter into a convention with the French 
 General, by which it was stipulated, that in consideration of 
 the surviving portion of the Duke's army being permitted to 
 evacuate Holland, several thousand seamen, then prisoners 
 of war in England, should be given up to the French Govern- 
 ment. 
 
 At home and abroad popular feeling was now excited 
 against him, and his name became a word of reproach ; 
 through his fault, it was said, the country had suffered a defeat 
 which lowered her in the eyes of Europe and covered her 
 with disgrace and debt. But public indignation arrived at 
 its climax when the Royal Duke was charged in the House 
 of Commons, by Colonel Guillym Lloyd Wardle, with allow- 
 ing Mrs. Clarke, his mistress, to sell military commissions 
 and other posts, in the large profits of which His Royal 
 Highness ignominiously shared. 
 
 Mrs. Anna Maria Clarke, the daughter of a compositor, 
 was born in an alley; in due time she married a brick- 
 layer, from whom she, after a few years spent in conjugal 
 discord, separated ; after many adventures, amorous and 
 otherwise, she became the mistress of Sir James Bruderell, 
 and subsequently of Sir Charles Milner, a coxcomb of the 
 first water. Her intrigues became the public scandal of the 
 day, and attracted the attention of the Duke of York, who 
 immediately became enamoured of her and made her his 
 mistress, premising her ^1,000 a year and a retiring pension 
 of ,400 per annum, a sum he subsequently refused to pay her.
 
 266 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 In person she was elegant and handsome, her complexion 
 being singularly fair, her eyes large and blue ; her conver- 
 sational powers vivacious, and her manners fascinating. In 
 a short time her ascendancy over the Duke became almost 
 unbounded, and at the trial it was proved beyond a shadow 
 of doubt that at her dictation he had awarded military pro- 
 motions, granted commissions, and effected exchanges, being 
 well aware she received large sums from those whom she 
 recommended. 'Nothing,' Earl Temple writes to Lord 
 Buckingham, ' can wipe off from the public mind the first 
 impression of connivance, at least, which the bad character 
 of the woman only tends to strengthen and confirm. I see 
 plainly that the Duke is lost in public estimation.' Accord- 
 ing to Mrs. Clarke's statement before the House of Com- 
 mons, His Royal Highness had hinted to her that a hand- 
 some income might be derived from the sales of commissions. 
 'The Duke,' she said, 'about half a year after I went to 
 Gloucester Place, on my being very much distressed and 
 pressing him for relief, told me that 1 had more interest than 
 the Quezn, and that if I was clever, I need never trouble him 
 for money.' She at once acted on the hint given her, and 
 henceforth nothing could equal the splendour in which she 
 lived ; she was clad in purple and fine linen, dined off services 
 of solid silver, drove in equipages whose appointments 
 rivalled those of royalty itself, and lived in a mansion fur- 
 nished with superb taste and costly magnificence. From 
 the gross and open insult of the woman's presence, the 
 Duchess of York had retired to Oatlands ; but Mrs. Clarke, 
 desiring a country residence, took a house close to the 
 neighbourhood of the Duchess, and on Sundays attended 
 the same church, where her devotion was remarkable. 
 
 The excitement, indignation, and triumph which the 
 general public felt at these gross charges, the truth of which 
 had been long suspected, was intense, and scarce abated 
 during the two months that the parliamentary inquiry lasted.
 
 MRS. CLARKE S RESOURCE. . 267 
 
 Day after day the House of Commons was crowded ; mem- 
 bers old and young flocked to hear the extraordinary charges 
 made ; to see the fashionable courtesan whose name was on 
 all men's lips stand at the bar of Parliament to implicate her 
 royal lover; to listen to the gross scandal which the witnesses 
 examined coolly disclosed : and to laugh over every double 
 entendre which fell from their lips. Never had there been 
 such an exposure of scenes of profligacy and folly as 'chose 
 which took place between His Royal Highness and his mis- 
 tress. During the hearing of the case, all signs of dignity 
 and morality seemed set aside in the House of Commons, 
 and the trial was regarded as a sensational drama which 
 was the more interesting from the fame of those it con- 
 cerned. 
 
 ColonelWardle had undertaken to substantiate his charges, 
 and the facts which the trial elicited proved he had not 
 boasted in vain. He disclaimed all animosity against the 
 Commander-in-Chief, and declared no other motive than a 
 sense of public duty prompted him to bring forward the 
 charge. 
 
 ' It was necessary,' he continued, 'in the first instance, to 
 put the House in possession of the true purposes for which 
 the disposal of commissions in the army was placed in the 
 hands of the Commander-in-Chief. It was for the purpose 
 of defraying the charges of the half-pay list, for the support 
 of veteran officers, and increasing the Compassionate Fund 
 for the aid of the widows and orphans of officers ; and there 
 fore any commissions which fell by deaths or promotion? 
 the Commander-in-Chief had no right to sell or dispose ot 
 for his own private emolument, nor to appropriate for the 
 like purpose any differences arising from the change or re- 
 duction of officers from full to half-pay.' 
 
 In the course of the investigation it was proved amongst 
 other transactions that Mrs. Clarke engaged to get her 
 tavourite footman appointed to a commission in the army,
 
 268 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 had received 200 from Colonel Brookes on his exchange 
 being gazetted, and had caused Major Tonyn of the 48th 
 Regiment to be appointed major two years after receiving 
 his commission as captain for the sum of ^500. Through 
 her aid, Major Shaw, whom the Duke disliked, had been 
 appointed Deputy Barrack-Master-General at the Cape of 
 Good Hope on promising to pay her ^"1,000; the worthy 
 major forwarded her half that sum, and then betrayed an 
 inclination to let her memory fade from his heart ; but she 
 was not a woman to allow her friends to forget her, and sent 
 him word of what she considered his just debts, and, on his 
 refusing to pay her, she complained to the Duke, who 
 immediately placed the major on the half-pay list. Another 
 gallant son of Mars with whom she found an opportunity of 
 transacting a little business was Colonel French, of the 
 Horse Guards, who was appointed to a commission for 
 raising new levies. This officer was introduced to her by 
 Captain Huxley Sandon, and it was arranged between them 
 that she was to have a certain sum out of the bounty for 
 every recruit raised, and a portion of patronage in the 
 nomination of officers. 
 
 As the levy went on, she received various amounts ; for 
 a majority ^900, for a captaincy ^700, for a lieutenancy 
 ,400, and for an ensigncy 200. Nor did she always 
 expect those who purchased commissions from her to serve ; 
 Mr. Mailing, a clerk of Greenwood, the army agent, was 
 appointed, through her favour, an ensign, lieutenant, and 
 captain in the Royal African Corps in the space of three 
 years, during which time he never left his desk. 
 
 So successful were her friends in the army in gaining 
 rapid promotion, that the Church likewise sought her favour, 
 and she ultimately opened an office in the City where army 
 commissions, and places in various departments of the 
 Church and State, were offered at reduced prices, her 
 clerks making no concealment of the fact that they were
 
 A COMPLETE SYSTEM OF TRAFFIC. 269 
 
 employed by the favourite mistress of the Duke of York. 
 Not only were such truths brought to light, but a parcel of 
 documents and papers in connection with these transactions 
 were seized and submitted to the inspection of a select 
 committee. 
 
 'The report' (of these) 'is not yet made,' writes Earl 
 Temple in the 'Courts and Cabinets of George III.,' 'but 
 Leach, the chairman, has told me that the scene of infamy 
 they open is dreadful, and that all that has passed is a trifle 
 when compared with them. A complete system of traffic 
 of every sort, for votes in the House upon particular ques- 
 tions, for every sort of military appointment, is laid open a 
 statement of particular facts which could only have come to 
 her knowledge from the Duke of York : repeated directions 
 to Sandon to call at the office, where he will find such and 
 such official letters for him. A complaint on the part of 
 the Duke that she has not been dealt fairly by, in conse- 
 quence of a person for whom she has interested herself 
 having made interest elsewhere ; all this, and much more, is 
 exposed in these cursed papers.' 
 
 ' Every day, and every hour,' writes Mr. Fremantle, ' adds 
 to the evidence against the Duke of York, and it is quite 
 impossible but that he must sink under it.' 
 
 Mrs. Clarke, elegant, gracious, and unruffled, went to 
 the House to give her evidence, attired ' in a light blue silk 
 gown and coat, edged with white fur, and a fur muff;' and 
 in her answers betrayed wit, cleverness, and playful repartee, 
 qualities which went a far way towards fascinating at least 
 the younger members. During a severe cross-examination, 
 which lasted three hours, she completely foiled Gibbs, a 
 lawyer who defended His Royal Highness. Indeed, she 
 occasionally undertook to divert the House, with a cool 
 impertinence which challenged admiration. Once, when 
 asked who delivered her letters to the Duke, she replied the 
 Morocco ambassador, which she subsequently condescended
 
 270 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 to explain was Mr. Taylor, a Bond Street shoemaker, who 
 owed his wealth to princely patronage. 
 
 The letters just referred to were of course made public 
 property, and were found to be such remarkable specimens 
 of eloquence as had not interested and charmed the world 
 since the appearance of those of the Duke of Cumberland 
 to Lady Grosvenor. In one of these, his enamoured 
 Highness addresses his mistress as ' Lovely charmer of my 
 soul.' After easing his foolish heart by giving vent to such 
 expressions as, ' Oh my angel, how you are beloved ; how I 
 long to return to my love,' he rapidly proceeds to business. 
 
 'General Clavering, my love, is mistaken,' he writes. 
 ' There are no new regiments to be raised ; they are only 
 second battalions that are to be formed ; so that his business 
 cannot be done, and tell him so.' 
 
 Another of his epistles is written in a far finer style, and 
 betrays more lofty sentiments. 
 
 ' MY DEAR LITTLE ANGEL,' it commences, ' How can I 
 sufficiently express to my sweetest darling love the delight 
 which your dear, dear, pretty letter gave me, or how do justice 
 to the emotions it excited ! Millions, millions of thanks for it, 
 my angel, and be assured that my heart is wholly fixed on 
 your affection. I am quite hurt, my love, that you did not 
 go to the Lewes races. It was kind of you to think of me 
 on the occasion. News, my angel, you cannot expect from 
 me from hence, for the life I lead here is in the family, and 
 I am hurrying them to leave this, that I may the sooner 
 return to clasp my angel in my arms. Dr. O'Meara gave me 
 your letter. He wishes to preach before royalty, and I 
 shall endeavour to procure him the occasion. What a long 
 time it is, my darling, since we parted ! I shall long for 
 Wednesday se'nnight, that I may return to my love's arms. 
 Adieu, 
 
 6 Yours, and yoursalone, 
 
 ' FREDERICK.'
 
 DUKE AND DARLING. 271 
 
 The town dwelt on this scandal with delight ; pamphlets 
 and ballads ridiculing the Royal Duke issued in numbers 
 from the press ; caricatures filled the shop windows, and the 
 joke among the people was, when they tossed up half-pence, 
 not to cry heads and tails, but duke and darling. 
 
 ' It was established beyond the possibility of doubt,' says 
 Sir Samuel Romilly, in the ' Diary of his Parliamentary Life,' 
 ' that the Duke had permitted Mrs. Clarke, his mistress, to 
 interfere in military promotions; that he had given com- 
 missions at her rcommendation, and that she had taken 
 money for the recommendations. That the Duke knew that 
 she took money, or that he knew that the establishment 
 which he had set on foot for her was partly supported with 
 the money thus illegally procured by her, did not appear 
 otherwise than from her evidence. She, however, asserted 
 the fact directly and positively ; and her evidence was 
 supported in many other particulars which seemed the most 
 incredible, by such strong corroborations, that her immortal 
 character, her resentment, and her contradictions were not 
 sufficient to render her evidence altogether incredible.' 
 
 Towards the close of the trial, the Duke wrote a letter to 
 the Speaker of the House of Commons, in which he declared 
 he ' must ever regret and lament that a connection should 
 have existed which has thus exposed my character to 
 animadversion ;' he furthermore, on his ' honour as a Prince,' 
 asserted his innocence. At the mention of his honour, the 
 Prince of Wales openly sneered, but the Duke said its 
 consciousness led him 'confidentially to hope that the 
 House of Commons will not, upon such evidence as they 
 have heard, adopt any proceedings prejudicial to my honour 
 and character ;' he also resigned his appointment as Com- 
 mander-in-Chief, when the following motion was carried, 
 ' That the Duke of York, having resigned the command of 
 the army, the House does not think it necessary to pro- 
 ceed any further in the consideration of the minutes
 
 272 COURT LTFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 of the evidence, so far as they relate to His Royal High- 
 ness.' 
 
 Three years subsequently, when the Prince of Wales was 
 Regent, the Duke of York was reinstated in the office of 
 Commander-in-Chief, on which occasion Lord Milton moved 
 a resolution in the House to the effect that ' it has been 
 highly improper and indecorous in the advisers of the Prince 
 Regent to have recommended to His Royal Highness the 
 reappointment of the Duke of York to the office of Com- 
 mander-in-Chief;' the motion was, however, defeated by a 
 majority who wished to keep well with the Regent. 
 
 Meanwhile the Duchess lived in retirement at Oatlands 
 Park, Weybridge, a residence that had the reputation of 
 being 'the worst managed establishment in England.' Her 
 Royal Highness had become singularly eccentric, and one 
 of her crazes was to surround herself with parrots, monkeys, 
 and dogs in vast numbers ; she also kept a menagerie on a 
 small scale, where kangaroos, ostriches, and other birds and 
 animals received royal attentions. The Duchess seldom 
 went to bed, but took a few hours' sleep, sitting dressed on 
 a couch or chair, now in one apartment, now in another, and 
 delighted in taking solitary walks at dead of night, or in the 
 small hours of the morning. At three o'clock she breakfasted 
 and dressed, when, surrounded by all her dogs, which never 
 numbered less than forty, she went into the park or village. 
 When any of these animals died, they were decently interred 
 in a spot set aside for the purpose, close by the fish-pond, 
 their resting-places being marked by small marble headstones 
 bearing their names, and occasionally touching inscriptions 
 in verse recording their eminent virtues. 
 
 The Duke, with some friends, usually visited her every 
 Saturday, when they stayed till the following Monday 
 morning ; the guests were allowed to amuse themselves as 
 they pleased, without the least ceremony being observed ; 
 they went to church, if so inclined, or, if not, p'.aycd
 
 ' ON MY KNEES BEFORE GOD' 273 
 
 the dogs and monkeys, ate fruit in the garden, or shot at 
 marks with pistols. 
 
 Another of the Royal Princes, Augustus, Duke of Sussex, 
 came prominently before the public in 1793. He had, with 
 his brothers Ernest and Adolphus, been sent to the Univer- 
 sity of Gottingen, in order that he might be free from the 
 evil example of the elder members of his family; and from 
 thence, being delicate, he had gone to travel in Italy. In 
 Rome he met Lady Augusta Murray, daughter of the Earl 
 of Dunmore, with whom he soon became deeply enamoured. 
 He was, at the time, one-and-twenty, whilst the young lady 
 whom he was pleased to style ' his soul,' and ' his treasure, 
 without whom he would pass the days in one constant 
 melancholy, wishing them soon to conclude, and finding 
 every one longer than the other,' was fourteen years his senior. 
 
 The Royal Marriage Act, which pronounced the union of 
 a Prince and a subject null and void without the consent of 
 Parliament, was an obstacle that threatened their happiness; 
 but this the love-stricken Prince determined to set aside, 
 and drew up a paper in which he declared that 
 
 1 On my knees before God our Creator, I, Augustus 
 Frederick, promise thee, Augusta Murray, and swear upon 
 the Bible, as I hope for salvation in the world to come, that 
 I will take thee, Augusta Murray, for my wife . . . and 
 may God forget me if ever I forget thee. The Lord's name 
 be praised ! So bless me, so bless me, O God !' 
 
 After some difficulties, they were married in Rome by a 
 clergyman of the Church of England, on April 4, and sub- 
 sequently, on their return to England, the ceremony was 
 repeated in St. George's Church, Hanover Square, on De- 
 cember 5, in the presence of a coal-merchant, named Jones, 
 and his wife. The banns had been duly published (the 
 names of the bride and bridegroom being given as Augustus 
 Frederick and Augusta Murray), but neither the rector nor 
 anyone else had the least suspicion of their rank or position. 
 
 ** 18
 
 274 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 Shortly after the last ceremony, the lady gave birth to a 
 boy afterwards Sir Augustus Frederick d'Este and ru- 
 mours of the union became gradually noised about town ; 
 when the Prince, fearing his royal father's wrath, thought it 
 prudent to quit England. When the news reached the 
 King's ears, his virtuous Majesty gave orders that pro- 
 ceedings should at once be taken to prove the marriage null 
 and void, according to the infamous and despotic Act he 
 had framed. It remains to be added that, though Augustus 
 Frederick had prayed so fervently that God might forget 
 him if he forgot Augusta Murray, yet in a few years he took 
 advantage of the vile sentence which had pronounced this 
 union void, to utterly and heartlessly desert her ; and Lady 
 Augusta was obliged to petition the Court of Chancery that, 
 out of the ; 1 2, ooo per annum which the grateful nation 
 allowed her husband, she might receive a sum sufficient to 
 maintain herself and his two children. After her death, the 
 Duke married again, his selection being once more the 
 daughter of an Earl, Lady Cecilia Underwood. 
 
 Ernest Augustus, Duke of Cumberland (fifth son of 
 George III.), was the most unpopular member of the royal 
 family. In appearance, he was a tall, powerful man, with 
 what Stockmar describes as 'a hideous face,' rendered all 
 the more repulsive from the fact that ' one of the eyes 
 turned quite out of its place.' His disposition was repellent, 
 and his severities over the regiments he commanded showed 
 him to have been cruel and sanguinary. When twelve years 
 old, he was created Duke of Cumberland and Teviotdale, 
 and Earl of Armagh, and obtained a Parliamentary grant of 
 ^12,000, which in a few years was increased to ,18,000, 
 and finally to ^21,000. Colonel Willis describes his con- 
 versation as ' of a nature as to coarseness that would have 
 disgraced one of his grooms.' 
 
 'There never,' said his brother. George IV., to the Duke 
 of Wellington, speaking of His Koyal Highness, ' was a
 
 '/ AM MURDERED.' 275 
 
 father well with his son, or husband with his wife, or lover 
 with his mistress, or friend with his friend, that he did not 
 try to make mischief between them.' 
 
 In 1810 an event happened to the Duke which startled 
 the public, and caused the most infamous scandals to be 
 freely circulated. 
 
 On the morning of May 31, it was announced that an 
 attempt had been made on the Duke's life, whilst he was in 
 bed in his apartments in St. James's Palace, by his valet, a 
 Corsican named Sellis. His bed-room was large, and was 
 faintly lighted by a lamp, which it was his habit to keep 
 burning all night About half-past two, the Duke asserted, 
 he was awakened by a blow ; this could not have been 
 severe, as he states his first impression was that a bat had 
 got into the room, and was beating about his head. 
 
 Left by the dim light of the lamp, he soon discerned the 
 flash of a steel weapon ; he then raised his hand towards 
 the bell-rope, in order to give alarm, but could not find it, 
 on which he jumped from bed and rushed towards the door 
 of an apartment communicating with his own, where a page 
 named Neale slept, pursued by his assailant, who cut him 
 on the thigh, and inflicted some other injuries on him. The 
 man who had, in this strange and singularly clumsy manner, 
 attempted the life of the Royal Duke, then made his escape 
 without hindrance ; whilst His Royal Highness cried out to 
 his page, ' I am murdered I am murdered.' 
 
 When Neale, more heroic than his royal master, rushed 
 towards the bedroom, the Duke, with a trait of humanity 
 new to his character, held him back ; the murderers, he 
 said for it now seemed to him his assailants had increased 
 in numbers were in that room, and would surely kill him ; 
 but Neale accidentally treading on a weapon, which, sin- 
 gularly enough, proved to be a favourite sabre of the Duke's, 
 which he always kept in his bedroom, the royal nerves were 
 somewhat Quieted. 
 
 1 8 2
 
 276 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 The household was now aroused, but Sellis, for whom the 
 Duke particularly asked, was wanting. Meanwhile a surgeon 
 was sent for, who immediately pronounced that His Royal 
 Highness's wounds were by no means fatal, and his subse- 
 quent recovery fortunately proved extremely rapid. Sellis 
 not appearing, Neale the page went in search of him, but 
 found his bedroom door locked ; it was then remembered 
 that there was another entrance to his apartment, by a door 
 that opened on the principal staircase ; no sooner was access 
 gained by this than Sellis was discovered sitting in a semi- 
 erect position in bed, with his head almost severed from 
 the body, life being, of course, quite extinct. A razor lay 
 beside him ; marks of blood were discovered on his coat, 
 which was carefully folded and laid at some little distance 
 from his bed, and a basin containing water tinged with 
 blood was also noticed. It was now, of course, quite clear 
 to the meanest comprehension that he had striven in the 
 strangest fashion to murder the Duke with a remarkably 
 awkward weapon, and that His Royal Highness providen- 
 tially saved his life only by flying from this would-be assassin, 
 who, it may be remarked, was much inferior to the Duke in 
 strength and stature; and finally, that, fearing detection,, 
 the unhappy Sellis had, before the slightest suspicion could 
 rest on him, put an end to his wretched existence. It only 
 remained for a jury to be summoned, who, after four hours' 
 mature deliberation, returned a verdict that Sellis had com- 
 mitted suicide ; when his body was buried without ceremony 
 in the high road. 
 
 This tragedy caused the wildest sensation in town ; it 
 became fashionable to visit the Duke's apartments in the 
 absence of His Royal Highness whose injuries were not 
 so severe as to prevent his removal to Carlton House the 
 rooms having been left in the same condition as found on the 
 morning of the occurrence for several days, for the benefit of 
 public curiosity.
 
 VILE SCANDALS. 277 
 
 In a little while, when the public had recovered from the 
 surprise caused by the horrible occurrence, it began to 
 speculate as to the reason which had actuated Sellis to per- 
 petrate this desperate deed ; it was then whispered by the 
 Duke's friends that Sellis had been jealous of his royal 
 master, who had paid some attentions to his valet's wife, and 
 it was timely remembered that the Duke had stood god- 
 father to Sellis's child ; it was also said that the valet had 
 been slightly mad, and there were those who now remem- 
 bered several signs of the dread malady in his manner, 
 though they had been culpably negligent in not remarking 
 this to His Royal Highness, thereby exposing his valuable life, 
 as it afterwards proved, to the most imminent risk. Others, 
 again, had no doubt Sellis, who was a Catholic, merely 
 revenged himself on his royal master because of the constant 
 gross and violent abuse of that religion which the Royal Duke, 
 with his customary signs of good-breeding, was in the habit 
 of addressing to his servant. 
 
 Of course, such an opportunity as this afforded was seized 
 on to circulate the grossest scandals, which, strange to say, 
 gained wide credence. It was openly and plainly stated 
 that the Duke had murdered Sellis, and inflicted some 
 slight wounds upon his own person, in order to give colour 
 to his story of having been attacked in bed ; moreover, it 
 was vilely asserted that the coroner's jury who had held 
 the inquest on the body had been packed and improperly 
 influenced; and that the motive of getting rid of Sellis 
 was, the Duke feared lest he should reveal a secret of 
 which he had become accidentally possessed, which in- 
 culpated his royal master in a penal crime. Singular to 
 say, two circumstances favoured these most atrocious 
 reports. It was well-known that Sellis was a left-handed 
 man, but one of the physicians who saw the body declared, 
 if he had inflicted the wound, it must have been with his 
 right hand ; another of the medical faculty went further
 
 278 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 still, an J actually had the audacity to state that, having 
 carefully examined Sellis's wounds, he was certain that the 
 cuts on the back of the neck could not possibly have been 
 inflicted by the deceased ; moreover, he had the monstrous 
 hardihood to make the subject the basis of a lecture to 
 his pupils, in the course of which he said that, if Sellis 
 died by his own hand, he did not cut and wound the back 
 of his* neck. 
 
 1 Sellis,' he declared, ' had not one, but several wounds on 
 the back of his neck. If Sellis had meant his own decol- 
 lation, he must have begun behind his neck but, labour 
 with the razor as he might, it would only hack and hew 
 his flesh ; for no physica\ strength would be sufficient to 
 terminate the existence of an individual by beheading him- 
 self.' 
 
 The Duke was sufficiently torbearing to overlook these 
 statements, and many of the gross assertions concerning 
 his character in general, and this tragedy in particular, 
 which continually appeared in the press, until the publi- 
 cation, so late as 1832, of a book entitled ' The Authentic 
 Records of the Court of England for the last Seventy 
 Years, written by Lady Anne Hamilton.' In this work, 
 the tragedy concerning Sellis was gone into with great 
 minuteness, and in summing up the various circumstances 
 of the case, it concluded with the words : 
 
 'Had it been the case of a poor man, he must have 
 been hung, and his body given for dissection, merely 
 upon circumstantial evidence ; but the son of a reigning 
 monarch had, by circumstantial evidence alone, been 
 acquitted.' 
 
 The publisher of this wicked libel was one Josiah 
 Phillips, who dwelt in the Strand. He was prosecuted and 
 punished. Many years after Sellis's death, the Duke's name 
 was unfortunately mixed up with another suicide in a most 
 unpleasant manner. The Duke, it was well known, though
 
 LADY GRAVES' s INTRIGUE. 279 
 
 at this time a married man, had an intrigue with Lady 
 Graves, whose husband was so sensitive to the injury in- 
 flicted on his honour, that he ended his life by his own 
 hand. The Duke, who had become used to such tragedies, 
 was too philosophical to let this affair prey upon his royal 
 mind, and, immediately after the funeral of the unhappy 
 man, was seen day after day driving about in public with 
 the widowed Lady Graves. 
 
 In 1814 he contracted a marriage with his cousin, 
 Frederica Caroline Sophia, daughter of the Duke of Meck- 
 lenburg-Strelitz, Queen Charlotte's brother. This lady pos- 
 sessed a temperament usually designated as gay ; she had 
 thrice entered the holy bonds of matrimony, and been once 
 divorced. The Queen, unaware of this latter little circum- 
 stance in the life of her future daughter-in-law, wrote to the 
 Duke of Mecklenburg to say she would endeavour to render 
 the residence of her niece as pleasant as circumstances 
 would permit, ' considering,' says Her Majesty, ' that my 
 sedentary life prevents me contributing much to the amuse- 
 ment of the Princesses, and that the greater part of my time 
 is passed in the country, where our society is very limited, 
 and our life uniform.' 
 
 She then requested her brother to inform his daughter of 
 certain usages of English society. 
 
 ' It is not the fashion here,' said royalty, ' to receive 
 morning visits from gentlemen, to which she will be exposed, 
 by reason of the Duke being colonel of a regiment, unless he 
 himself introduces them to her : she should also be very 
 circumspect in the choice of ladies with whom she shall 
 associate, which will be so much the more necessary, as the 
 Duke has acquaintances amongst our sex who, though not 
 actually of bad conduct, might, however, become injurious 
 to her in point of policy.' 
 
 Her Gracious Majesty finally informed the Grand-Duke of 
 Mecklenburg-Strelitz that she sent him, by the courier who
 
 28o COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 conveyed her letter, ' six pounds of tea and two cheeses. 
 Eat the latter,' she added, ' to my health, and, in drinking 
 the tea, remember a sister whose attachment to you will not 
 cease but with death.' His Serene Highness the Grand- 
 Duke of Mecklenburg-Strelitz gratefully accepted the cheeses 
 and the six pounds of tea from his royal sister presents 
 worthy of so great a Queen. 
 
 When the Royal Duke brought his bride to England, her 
 aunt, who had meanwhile heard various little items of her 
 history, more entertaining than edifying, refused to receive 
 her at Court, or hold any communication with her ; the 
 universal detestation which was felt towards the Duke was 
 at the same time expressed by the refusal of Parliament to 
 grant him an addition of ^6,000 per annum, as had been 
 the custom to bestow on the Royal Dukes when they 
 married. 
 
 The Dukes of Kent and Cambridge were by far the most 
 estimable of the King's sons ; their public careers were not 
 brilliant, but their private lives were respectable, and they 
 have fortunately left behind them no disreputable histories.
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 The Prince of Wales and his Difficulties His Proposed Mar- 
 riage Lord Malmesbury at the Court of Brunswick The 
 Bride-elect Her Journey to England and Reception by 
 the Prince Marriage and Honeymoon The Evil Genius 
 of her Life The Story of the Lost Letters The Prince's 
 Debts Disloyalty of the People The Cry of ' No King !' 
 The King's Life Attempted Birth of a Young Princess 
 The Prince's Separation from his Wife The Lord Chan- 
 cellor's Opinion of his Sanity Mrs. Fitzherbert Communi- 
 cates with Rome. 
 
 MEANWHILE the Prince of Wales sank lower and lower in 
 the morass of debt and dissipation which now threatened to 
 swamp him ; the outlay on the whimsical, unnecessary altera- 
 tions of Carlton House reached the enormous figure of 
 .56,950 ; his stud cost him, he admitted, 30,000 a year ; 
 and the sums he squandered on any woman who chanced to 
 please his amorous fancy were prodigious. He had signed 
 bills and bonds in numbers, heedless of the consequences of 
 the future if he could relieve the necessities of the present ; 
 and had, in conjunction with the Dukes of York and Clar- 
 ence, whose respective incomes of 18,000 and 12,000 a 
 year were insufficient for their expensive tastes, raised large 
 sums on their bonds through the respectable agency of the 
 Prince's German cook, Weltjie. 
 
 Nor was this ail ; the heir to the throne offered 10,000 
 and an Irish peerage (which must have weighed but little in 
 his estimation), after the King's death, for every .5,000
 
 232 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 which was given him in the present. But, finding that even 
 on these terms there were few who were ready to swallow 
 the bait and trust him, he resolved on a yet more desperate 
 proceeding ; this was to raise ^350,000 on the Duchy of 
 Cornwall and the Bishopric of Osnaburgh, with payments by 
 drawings and a sinking-fund, the whole to be paid off in 
 twenty-five years ; this transaction coming to the King's 
 knowledge, much trouble followed, covering the royal 
 brothers with dishonour. 
 
 The Prince was now, as the Duke of Portland lamented 
 to Lord Malmesbury, but little respected, so little, indeed, 
 that his creditors frequently stopped him in the streets to 
 demand their just debts from him, after seeking every other 
 mode for payment in vain ; the workmen at Carlton House 
 petitioned the Prime Minister for their wages ; and several 
 executions had been levied in the royal residence. Notwith- 
 standing that his annual income amounted to ^73,000 per 
 annum, his debts now reached the round sum of ^600,000, 
 an amount he had squandered in reckless prodigality, and he 
 resolved to bring his difficulties once more before the eyes of 
 an indulgent nation, which he had no doubt would again assert 
 its benevolence in removing from his royal shoulders the 
 inconveniences which he suffered. In an interview which 
 he had at this time with Lord Malmesbury, he again used 
 the threat of going abroad, and living in a retired manner. 
 He did not, he said, stand so well with the King, but was 
 better than ever with the Queen, whose favourite he had 
 always been ; her wily Majesty had advised him, he said, to 
 press the King, through the Chancellor, to propose that 
 Pitt should bring the consideration of an increase of his 
 income before Parliament, and she had promised to give 
 this scheme her earnest support. On this occasion the 
 Prince talked coldly of the Duke and Duchess of York, 
 because the latter had refused to treat Mrs. Fitzherbert en 
 belle satur, and of the Duke of Clarence slightingly, and was,
 
 PROPOSED MARRIAGE. 283 
 
 indeed, inclined to be in ill-humour with the world at 
 large. 
 
 On an appeal being made to the King for an increase of 
 income for the Prnce, and for the payment of his debts, 
 His Majesty gave it to be understood that the sole terms on 
 which such advantages could be obtained were the marriage 
 of the heir to the Crown, who was then in his thirty-third 
 year ; a step which, it was hoped, might have some re- 
 straining effect on his career of unbridled excesses, and secure 
 the prosperity of the nation. To this proposal the Prince did 
 not lend such an unwilling ear as might have been expected. 
 He had long since proved faithless to Mrs. Fitzherbert, now 
 openly styled in a pamphlet by Home Tooke, ' Both legally, 
 really, worthily, and happily for the country, Her Royal 
 Highness the Princess of Wales ;' and almost as freely spoken 
 of by the members of the royal family, according to the 
 Harcourt diary, as his lawful wife. 
 
 Not to mention others, his connection became notorious 
 with Lady Jersey, a bold and beautiful woman, whose hus- 
 band was appointed Master of the Horse to the Prince, in 
 reward for her ladyship's infamy. Already an open adulterer, 
 His Royal Highness did not hesitate to commit bigamy 
 when, by that crime urged on him by the virtuous King, 
 who was certainly cognisant of his marriage with Mrs. Fitz- 
 herbert he had the prospect of ridding himself from the 
 humiliation of debt, and of receiving from the nation a 
 larger income, which would afford him greater facilities for 
 the indulgence of his base passions. 
 
 ' Others, with whom he lived upon the most intimate 
 terms,' says Lord Brougham, ' are supposed to have inter- 
 posed fresh obstacles to this scheme ; but these were over- 
 come by an understanding that the new wife should enjoy 
 only the name that systematic neglect and insult of every 
 kind heaped upon her should attest how little concern the 
 heart had with this honourable arrangement, and how entirely
 
 284 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 the husband should continue devoted to the wedded wives 
 of other men. Everything was settled to the satisfaction of 
 all parties ; the old spouse was discarded the old mistresses 
 were cherished, fondled, and appeased.' 
 
 Accordingly, he resolved to enter into the holy bonds of 
 matrimony, but was perfectly indifferent as to who his future 
 bride should be j the King, however, undertook to spare him 
 this trouble, and selected as the future Princess of Wales, 
 Caroline of Brunswick, the daughter of His Majesty's eldest 
 sister, His Royal Highness agreeing to this choice with a 
 complacency that savoured but too strongly of indifference. 
 His Gracious Majesty wrote to the Prime Minister that he 
 had an interview with the Prince of Wales, who had ' ac- 
 quainted me with his having broken off all connection with 
 Mrs. Fitzherbert, and his desire of entering into a more 
 creditable line of life by marrying.' As to his niece, the 
 King declared, ' undoubtedly she is the person who natur- 
 ally must be most agreeable to me .... provided his plan 
 was to lead a life that would make him appear respectable, 
 and, consequently, render the Princess happy.' His Majesty, 
 with an eye to the financial result of this union, sagely added, 
 that he informed the Prince ' that, till Parliament assembled, 
 no arrangement could be taken.' 
 
 In good time, Lord Malmesbury, a clever diplomatist and 
 able courtier, was despatched to the little Court of Bruns- 
 wick, to negotiate a marriage with the Princess Caroline, a 
 bdy whom neither the King nor the Prince had ever seen, 
 and who was now in her twenty-seventh year. My lord 
 received his instructions personally from the King, who was 
 most eager for the marriage, and who gave him no discre- 
 tionary powers, to give either advice or information to His 
 Majesty or the Prince regarding the object of his mission : 
 though he subsequently took heed of many things of which 
 he did not approve, in the manners and ways of the lady, 
 whom he terms his 'eccentric charge,' he, believing his
 
 THE PRINCESS CAROLINE. 285 
 
 opinions were not required at St. James's, wisely, or unwisely, 
 held his diplomatic tongue. 
 
 He was received at Brunswick with all the honours be- 
 fitting the importance of his mission. When his arrival was 
 made known, no less a personage than the high and mighty 
 Grand Marschal Munchausen called upon him, to offer him 
 the use of a palace during his stay, with servants, a carriage, 
 a valet-de-chambre, a concierge, three footmen, and two 
 sentinels ; moreover, he was honoured by an invitation to 
 dine, from the Duchess of Brunswick, mother to the bride- 
 elect. 
 
 Here he met the Princess Caroline, who was much em- 
 barrassed at seeing him, and his first impressions of that 
 ill-fated woman were not very favourable ; her face, he said, 
 was pretty, but not expressive of softness ; she had fine eyes, 
 he admitted, ' tolerable teeth, but going, fair hair and light 
 eyebrows, good bust, short, with what the French call des 
 poitrines? Mrs. Harcourt, when she arrived at the Bruns- 
 wick Court to accompany the Princess to England, remarked 
 that in her appearance there was ' some resemblance in 
 miniature to what Mrs. Fitzherbert was when young ;' whilst 
 the courtiers of St. James's subsequently spoke of the re- 
 semblance she bore His Gracious Majesty, ' especially in the 
 upper lip, which protrudes.' 
 
 Lord Malmesbury tarried a month at the Court, when 
 Major Hislop arrived from England in hot haste, bearing 
 the Prince's portrait, and, strange to say, a letter from that 
 illustrious person, vehemently urging the diplomatist to set 
 out with the Princess Caroline immediately. A ceremony 
 of marriage, at which Lord Malmesbury stood proxy for the 
 Prince, was then gone through with due solemnity, after 
 which stately compliments and gracious felicitations were 
 expressed ; then came a heavy dinner, followed by whist, at 
 which the new-made Princess of Wales, as she was now 
 entitled to be called, took a hand, and played an excellent
 
 286 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 game ; the celebrations of the day closing with a sumptuous 
 supper, at which the whole Court assisted. 
 
 The morality practised in the bride's home was distin- 
 guished by all the looseness which marked the petty German 
 courts of the period. The Duchess of Brunswick mentioned 
 to Lord Malmesbury, not at ' all by way of compliment, but 
 incidentally, in the course of one of their conversations, that 
 her husband, at the time he came to England to marry her, 
 was in love with three ladies of rank, and enjoyed the friend- 
 ship of an Italian girl likewise. Mademoiselle de Hertzfeldt 
 was now his acknowledged mistress ; this lady dressed with 
 all the elegant appareil of her situation, and had her acknow- 
 ledged place in all Court ceremonies. The Duke, a man of 
 the easiest morals, had written out in German a code of con- 
 duct for his daughter to pursue in England, amongst which 
 he specially advised her never to show any jealousy of her 
 husband, and ' that, if he hi'.d any gouts, not to notice them.' 
 For all that, he dreaded, he said, the Prince's habits, the 
 fame of which had spread through Europe, and was gravely 
 apprehensive of the future. His daughter could not help 
 feeling likewise concerned, and her fears were strengthened 
 by some anonymous letters which both she and her parents 
 received, warning them of His Royal Highness's character, 
 and the fate she might expect Another letter which reached 
 the Court also filled her with some alarm , this was written 
 not by an anonymous, but by the royal hand of George III., 
 who expressed his hopes to the Duchess that his niece 'would 
 not induige in too much vivacity, but would lead a sedentary 
 and retired life.' 
 
 Now, when the irrevocable steps had been taken, the new 
 Princess strove to make the best of her position, and to ap- 
 pear gay and cheerful ; but at times her eyes filled with tears, 
 and now and again she ventured to express her thoughts. 
 She declared she was fearful of her future mother-in-law, who 
 she was sure would be jealous of her, and do her harm ; she
 
 APROPOS 'OF INTRIGUES. 287 
 
 also~asked about Lady Jersey, whom she considered an in- 
 triguante, said she knew the Prince was leger, but she was 
 already prepared on that point, and determined never to 
 appear jealous ; that her sole wish was to become popular, 
 and to gain the love of the people. 
 
 At this avowal, my Lord Malmesbury pricked up his 
 courtly ears and told her, in severe^ tones, that ' popularity 
 was never gained by familiarity ; that it could only belong 
 to respect, and was to be acquired by a just mixture of 
 dignity and affability.' The diplomatist then referred to his 
 gracious Queen as a model, and informed her gravely ' that 
 the sentiment of being loved by the people is a mistaken 
 one that sentiment can only be given to a few, that a 
 nation at large can only respect and honour a great Princess, 
 and that its love can be procured, not by pleasant openness 
 and free communication, but by strict attention to appear- 
 ances by never going below the high rank in which a Prin- 
 cess is placed.' Over these autocratic words the poor bride 
 pondered long in silence, but she was positively startled 
 when, apropos of intrigues, my lord thought well to inform 
 her that ' it was death to presume to approach a Princess of 
 Wales.' She asked him if he were in earnest ; he answered 
 it was the English law ' that anybody who presumed to 
 approach her was guilty of high treason, and punished with 
 death, if she was weak enough to listen to him ; so also 
 would she be. 
 
 Mrs. Harcourt now arrived at Brunswick, and took a 
 more hopeful view of the bride's future ; she, poor lady, 
 said, in courtly words, she was sure the Prince would adore 
 his bride ; and she added that the Princess ' was prepared 
 and disposed to adore him, and do her duty by him.' It 
 may be argued, in favour of her sincerity, that she had not 
 been in England for a considerable time. Meanwhile, the 
 bride set out for London ; nothing could be more propitiou> 
 than the weatner ; the wind was tair, che sea smooth as
 
 288 * COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 glass ; there never had been, it was said, so happy a voyage. 
 The Princess was full of good humour, affable in manners, 
 sweet in temper, and delighted at her future prospects. 
 
 ' It does one's heart good to see anybody so happy, 
 writes Mrs. Harcourt. ' All the officers of the ship declare 
 they should have had more trouble with any London lady 
 than Her Royal Highness has given.' 
 
 On Sunday, April 5, 1795, the Princess landed at Green- 
 wich Hospital, when she was received by the governor, Sir 
 Hugh Palisser, and his officers all ; and here it was that she 
 first met Lady Jersey, the woman destined to have so evil 
 an influence on her fate. The Prince's mistress had been 
 appointed by him as first Lady of the Bedchamber to the 
 Princess ; a gross and wanton insult, which he did not 
 hesitate to inflict on his bride, and regarding which the 
 Queen did not interfere. In this capacity, it was her 
 ladyship's duty to have awaited the Princess's landing ; she 
 did not, however, put herself to any inconvenience in the 
 matter, and only arrived at Greenwich an hour after the 
 Princess had arrived. At their first meeting, she ventured 
 to make some uncomplimentary remarks regarding the 
 bride's dress, and behaved in such a manner that Lord 
 Malmesbury was obliged to speak 'rather sharply to her.' 
 She then produced a suit she had brought from London at 
 the Queen's request, in which the Princess was to travel to 
 town ; this consisted of ' a mantle of green-sattin, trimmed 
 with gold, with loops and tassels a la Brandenburg,' which 
 remarkable costume was completed by a beaver hat. 
 
 When Her Royal Highness's toilette was finished, she got 
 into one of the King's coaches, drawn by six horses, which 
 awaited her. Here again Lady Jersey's behaviour called 
 for the interference of Lord Malmesbury. The mistress 
 refused to sit backwards in the coach, but desired to sit side 
 by side with the bride-elect ; my Lord, however, declined to 
 allow such a breach of etiquette ; my Lady declared she
 
 LADY JERSEY'S BEHAVIOUR. 289 
 
 would have a headache ; when he informed her she should 
 never have accepted her situation as Lady of the Bedchamber, 
 who never ought to sit forward ; and, if she was likely to be 
 sick, she could share the carriage allotted to him and Lord 
 Claremount ; an offer she promptly refused. 
 
 When the Princess was driven to St. James's, she was 
 ushered into the apartments overlooking Cleveland Row, 
 where, if this stranger in a strange land expected her bride- 
 groom would be courteous enough to receive her, she was 
 destined to bitter disappointment ; but the people strove to 
 make up by their enthusiasm for this lack of respect on the 
 part of the Prince. They had lined the streets through 
 which she had driven, and cheered her heartily, and now 
 assembled in vast numbers outside St James's, where they 
 huzzaed until, according to that most courtly chronicle 
 the St. James's Gazette, ' in a voice replete with melody and 
 delicacy of tone, she thus addressed them from her palace 
 window, " Believe me, I feel very happy and delighted to 
 see the good and brave English people, the best nation upon 
 earth ;" ' which parrot-like phrases, evidently delivered with 
 the assistance oi a prompter, were received with exceeding 
 great joy by the mob, who were afterwards to be her best 
 friends. 
 
 After a while, the tardy bridegroom came from Carlton 
 House, close by, to greet his bride; but appeared much 
 embarrassed, ill at ease, and perhaps conscience-stricken at 
 the wrong which his bigamous marriage was about to inflict 
 upon this helpless woman. He was introduced to her by 
 Lord Malmesbury, no other person being in the apartment, 
 when the Princess, according to the required etiquette, 
 attempted to kneel ; but the Prince raised her up, saluted 
 her, and, uttering but one word, turned round abruptly, 
 walked to a distant corner o. the apartment, and, calling 
 Lord Malmesbury to him, demanded a glass of brandy. 
 The diplomatist had probably certain reasons lor replying, 
 
 19
 
 290 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 * Sir, had you not better have a glass of water ?' upon which 
 he replied with a round oath, ' No ; I will go directly to the 
 Queen,' and, without another word, he left the room. 
 
 Amazed at such conduct from one whom she had heard 
 called the first gentleman in Europe, the bride, trembling 
 and frightened, cried out, ' My God ! is the Prince always 
 like that ?' to which question the excellent courtier answered, 
 His Royal Highness ' was naturally a good deal affected and 
 flurried at this first interview.' 
 
 At five o'clock the Prince and Princess dined, she appear- 
 ing in the wonderful head-dress in which she was paint edin 
 the picture sent to her bridegroom ; whilst he was dressed 
 in the hussar uniform of his regiment, as in the portrait 
 painted by Conway and sent to his bride. At this dinner, 
 all who had attended the Princess from Greenwich assisted 
 Lady Jersey of course included whilst Lord Stopford, 
 as Vice-Chamberlain, did the honours. At the conclusion, 
 the Prince and Princess paid a visit to their Majesties at 
 Buckingham House, when the Queen betrayed the uttermost 
 dislike to this member of a rival house which she hated, 
 asked her a few questions, and then remained silent during 
 the interview ; the King, on the contrary, was kind and good- 
 natured. According to the loyal, but highly inflated language 
 of tne Oracle, he, 'on first seeing his lovely relation, 
 discovered the most amiable sensibility. Tears of joy be- 
 dewed his cheeks on receiving the hand of his favourite 
 sister's daughter.' The Prince had by this time somewhat 
 recovered himself, paid her some attentions, and strove to 
 express his hopes for their mutual happiness. At eleven 
 o'clock the Princess retired, when she was attended by her 
 Lady of the Bedchamber, the crafty, jealous, and vicious 
 Countess of Jersey. 
 
 * Lady Jersey,' says Huish in his ' Memoirs of George IV.,' 
 ' who had appeared displeased by the attentions which the 
 Prince of Wales had paid to his destined wife, now also
 
 A DANGEROUS WOMAN. 291 
 
 retired, determined to avail herself of the period which would 
 elapse prior to a second interview between the illustrious 
 personages to represent to the Prince, in false and unmerited 
 language, the character of her royal mistress. To Lady 
 Jersey, the Princess of Brunswick had certainly most in- 
 cautiously and unwarily stated her attachment to a German 
 Prince, and Lady Jersey stated that the Princess said, " She 
 was persuaded that she loved one little finger of that 
 individual far better than she should love the whole person 
 of the Prince of Wales." The accuracy of this statement to 
 its full extent was subsequently denied by the Princess of 
 Brunswick, but still she admitted that she had imprudently 
 referred to a former attachment. Lady Jersey, on the 
 succeeding day, apprised the Prince of Wales of that attach- 
 ment, assured him that his intended consort had made the 
 above declaration, found fault with her person, ridiculed the 
 coarseness of her manners, predicted that the marriage, if 
 consummated, would be unfortunate, and inveighed against 
 the King for promoting the intended union. A great part 
 of this statement was subsequently admitted by Lady Jersey, 
 and what was not so admitted was stated by the Princess on 
 the highest authority to have taken place.' 
 
 It was arranged that the marriage should be celebrated on 
 the following Wednesday evening, when many preparations 
 were made. Thrones for the King and Queen were erected 
 in St. James's Chapel, the walls of which were newly covered 
 with ' fresh paper, so as to imitate crimson velvet ;' stalls 
 were placed in the royal apartments, through which the 
 bridal procession would pass, for the courtiers to witness the 
 sight; the town was made ready for illuminations; long- 
 winded addresses were prepared, and the muses put their 
 nine heads together to compose some of the most wonderfully 
 nonsensical rhapsody ever conceived for the occasion. 
 Amongst many others, these goddesses of song inspired 
 the gentle lay of Miss Churchill, of Queen Street, Chelsea 
 
 19 a
 
 292 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 an enthusiastic young lady much given to the use of notes 
 of admiration, whose verses gained her some notoriety. 
 'She comes,' Miss Churchill somewhat unnecessarily an- 
 nounces, in reference to the Princess 
 
 ' She comes ! the lovely Caroline appears ! 
 Loud acclamations filled the vaulted air ! 
 While tott'ring age the information cheers, 
 And old and young congratulate the fair !' 
 
 On Wednesday evening, the first act in the painful tragedy 
 in the life of Caroline, Princess of Wales, was enacted, when 
 the royal marriage was solemnized in St. James's Chapel. 
 At half-past eight o'clock, the Queen's ladies, her Lord 
 Chamberlain, and her Master of the Horse were summoned 
 into Her Majesty's bedchamber, where the royal family 
 were assembled. Then came the bridal procession, headed 
 by trumpets and drums, heralds and ushers, and a goodly 
 array of courtiers, preceding the bride, who was led by the 
 Duke of Clarence, passed through the Queen's bedchamber 
 on their way to the Chapel Royal. The Princess was pale 
 and nervous, and was clad in a nuptial habit of silver-tissue, 
 ornamented with many jewels, and a robe of crimson velvet, 
 lined and bordered with ermine, which hung loose from her 
 shoulders, and was borne by the daughters of two Dukes 
 and two Earls. Then came the bridegroom, corpulent of 
 person and red of face, wearing his Collar of the Order of 
 the Garter, supported, in more senses than one, by the 
 Dukes of Bedford and Roxburgh, the procession closing 
 with their Gracious Majesties, attended by the officers of 
 the household in full state. 
 
 Lord Malmesbury admits that, on this occasion, the 
 Prince 'had recourse to wine or spirits ;' but Lady Harcourt 
 goes further. 
 
 'The Duke of Gloucester,' she says, 'assured me the 
 Prince was quite drunk ; and that, after dinner, he went out 
 and drank twelve glasses of maraschino.'
 
 AN INTOXICATED BRIDEGROOM. 293 
 
 Her description of the ceremony is worth recording : 
 
 ' The Princess,' she says, ' looked dignified and composed ; 
 but the Prince, agitated to the greatest degree ; he was like 
 a man in despair, half crazy. He held so fast by the Queen's 
 hand, she could not remove it When the Archbishop called 
 on those to come forward who knew any impediment, his 
 manner of doing it shook the Prince, and made me 
 shudder.' 
 
 So intoxicated was the bridegroom, that in the middle of 
 the service he rose up. The Archbishop suddenly ceased, 
 and a dead pause ensued ; when, before all the assembly, the 
 King stepped down from the haut pas, whispered in the 
 Prince's ear, and, taking him by the arm, forced him into a 
 kneeling position, where he remained until the solemn 
 nuptial benediction was pronounced. After the ceremony, 
 a drawing-room was held, followed by a supper to the Royal 
 Family at Buckingham House, on the conclusion of which 
 the Prince and Princess retired to their home, Carlton 
 House. 
 
 During the succeeding weeks, there were balls given by 
 their Majesties and the Foreign Ministers, and the Princess 
 made her debut to the public by a state visit to Covent 
 Garden Theatre, when, by command of their Majesties, a 
 new and not over-decent comedy, entitled ' Life's Vagaries,' 
 was acted, to which was added the new drama, ' Windsor 
 Castle,' and the ' Masque of Peleus and Thetis ;' a full pro- 
 gramme. A state box for the use of their Royal High 
 nesses was fitted up for the occasion, opposite their 
 Majesties' box This was gorgeously upholstered in crimson 
 velvet, lined with white satin, surmounted by the royal 
 plume, and otherwise adorned with gold foil in theatrical 
 abundance. 
 
 The account given 01 the Princess's visit in the Oracle is 
 worthy of being preserved : 
 
 With her happy consort,' says this credulous journal,
 
 294 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 ' she entered the house fully a quarter of an hour before 
 their Majesties with five of the Princesses arrived. They 
 were received with applause, which made the whole theatre 
 tremble ; and the polite acknowledgment on the part of Her 
 Royal Highness redoubled the peals of loyal admiration. 
 Upon the entry of their Majesties, with the usual ceremo- 
 nies, the songs were called for, and sung by the whole pit, 
 which had a very singular effect ; and, indeed, a more ex- 
 hilarating sight never appealed to hearts susceptible to 
 family delights, and joying in the loveliest bond of nature. 
 
 ' The Princess was very brilliantly dressed, and her deport- 
 ment was in the most finished style of dignified elegance. 
 The ease of the Prince is not now to be praised ; but we 
 never before saw his countenance sparHe with so much con- 
 tent. The whole suite of Carlton House attended ; and the 
 ensemble bespoke truly a royal box.' 
 
 Even in the first few weeks of her married life the Prin- 
 cess was destined to meet with but little happiness. Earl 
 Minto, in his interesting ' Life and Letters,' throws some 
 light on the manner in which the honeymoon of this unhappy 
 woman was spent. He dined at Blackheath with the Prin- 
 cess, and was afterwards shown the correspondence which 
 passed between her and the Prince, Lord Malmesbury, Lady 
 Elgin, and others. 
 
 ' It appears,' he writes of their Royal Highnesses, ' that 
 they lived together two or three weeks at first, but not at all 
 afterwards as man and wife. They went to Windsor two 
 days after the marriage, and, after a few days' residence there, 
 they went to Kempshot, where there was no woman but Lady 
 Jersey, and the men very blackguard companions of the 
 Prince's, who were constantly drunk and filthy, sleeping and 
 snoring in boots on the sofa; and, in other respects, the 
 scene was more like the Prince of Wales at Eastcheap, than 
 like any notions she had acquired before of a gentleman. 
 Still, appearances were maintained, and the bride and bride
 
 THE PRINCESS APPEALS TO THE KING. 295 
 
 groom were seen walking on the terrace at Windsor, the 
 former in a dress of plain white muslin, a plain black bonnet 
 with a single black feather, a very deep black veil, and a 
 black cloak with broad lace.' 
 
 Lady Jersey, who was in the Princess's society at all hours 
 of the day, found a thousand ways of insulting the wife of her 
 royal paramour, for whom she did not care to conceal her 
 aversion, and from whom she did not seek to hide her 
 infamy. Driven at last to resent this woman's conduct, the 
 Princess appealed to her husband to protect her from the 
 insults she had no longer patience to endure, and hence 
 arose their first quarrel. The first gentleman in Europe 
 coldly informed his wife he required her to treat Lady Jersey 
 ' as his friend ;' this she passionately refused, and declared 
 she would never sit at the same table with her unless he was 
 present. He persisted that she should; bitter, vehement 
 upbraidings followed, which ended by the injured wife de- 
 manding the dismissal of the mistress ; but this the Prince 
 refused, and quitted Carlton House overwhelmed with 
 passion. 
 
 The Princess used frequently to repeat, years afterwards, 
 that the King told her his brother, the Duke of Glouces- 
 ter, informed him ' an arrangement was made with Lord 
 Carlisle to give up Lady Jersey to the Prince that this was 
 agreed to at Rochester, when Lady Jersey first set out to 
 meet the Princess of Wales, and that there was an under- 
 standing that she should be always the object of his affec- 
 tions.' The Princess now resolved to appeal, not to the 
 pious Queen, who received her eldest son's mistress in her 
 drawing-room, and permitted her to play cards with the 
 Princesses, but to the King, her uncle, beseeching his 
 interference, when His Majesty, after an interview with 
 the Prince, arranged that Lady Jersey should no more 
 come into waiting ; an engagement which was but in part 
 fulfilled
 
 296 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 The Princess had not been married many months, when 
 an opportunity occurred which enabled the malignant 
 Countess to injure her in the estimation of the Queen, 
 who from the first had regarded her daughter-in-law with 
 marked coldness and dislike. The Princess, rendered 
 miserable by the life opening before her, sought relief by 
 expressing her feelings to her parents, and some of her 
 friends in Germany, in letters she wrote them; unfortu- 
 nately, she likewise passed rather free comments on her 
 gracious but snuff-taking Majesty, by no means compli- 
 mentary. These epistles were entrusted for delivery to the 
 Rev. Dr. Randolph, then meditating a journey to Bruns- 
 wick. It happened, however, that the reverend man was 
 prevented from going abroad by the illness of his spouse ; he, 
 therefore, forwarded the package of letters to the Princess, 
 directing them under cover to Lady Jersey, and sending 
 them by the Brighton post-coach from town, as he was told 
 at Carlton House this was the usual mode of conveying the 
 Princess's papers and packets. 
 
 The letters never reached the Princess, though she caused 
 every inquiry to be made concerning them. No doubt was, 
 however, left on her mind as to their fate, for not only did 
 Her Gracious Majesty's manner become more chilling to her 
 daughter-in-law, but she was pleased to let fall from her royal 
 lips several expressions which the unfortunate epistles con- 
 tained, and which she likewise repeated to her friends. The 
 Princess then accused Lady Jersey of having forwarded her 
 letters secretly to the Queen, who, of course, made no scruple 
 of opening them ; and, the matter getting whispered about, 
 the press took up the subject, and charged the Countess 
 with treachery, embezzlement, and deceit. In order to clear 
 her immaculate character, she wrote Dr. Randolph a letter, 
 which was printed in the Pall Mall, in which she entreated 
 him to publish the account of the transaction in any of the 
 newspapers he might think fit. To this the reverend doctor
 
 THE PRINCES 'ENCUMBRANCES' 297 
 
 made no reply, when her much-abused ladyship wrote to 
 him once more, saying she should consider his silence as 
 countenancing that calumny which false representations had 
 so shamefully drawn down upon her. To this he made 
 answer that he had sent a friend to London to trace the 
 missing package, when, if his efforts did not prove success- 
 ful, he should return to town and pursue the discovery him- 
 self, but repeated he had forwarded the letters by the 
 Brighton coach. Whereon my Lord Jersey, mindful of his 
 wife's honour, made pretence to the world at large of quar- 
 relling with Dr. Randolph, a line of conduct which the 
 Princess, in common with many others, regarded as a 
 manoeuvre to exonerate her ladyship and the reverend man 
 from the charge in which she believed both were con- 
 cerned. 
 
 In the meantime, the consideration of the Prince's debts 
 came before the House of Commons. The King, in his 
 message, informed those in Parliament assembled that he 
 relied on the liberality and affection of his faithful Commons, 
 and on the cordial interest which they had manifested in 
 the Prince's marriage, to grant him an establishment. His 
 Majesty also declared that, with ' the deepest regret,' he 
 pointed out the necessity of freeing the Prince from ' the 
 encumbrances to a large amount to which he is now subject,' 
 as it was delicately put. Moreover, His Gracious Majesty 
 avowed he had no idea of proposing to his Parliament 
 to make any provision, otherwise than by an application of 
 part of the income which might be settled on His Royal 
 Highness to the payment of his debts. 
 
 The message, which had been listened to in unbroken 
 silence, was, at the conclusion, received with a universal 
 murmur of indignation and surprise. Pitt then moved that 
 the message be referred to a committee of the whole House, 
 on which Colonel Stanley begged that the King's message 
 delivered to the House eight years ago, on the occasion of
 
 298 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 the Prince's debts coming before Parliament, should be 
 read, when the following passage was listened to with keen 
 attention : 
 
 ' His Majesty could not expect, or desire, the assistance 
 of the House, but on the well-grounded expectation that 
 the Prince will avoid contracting any new debts in the 
 future.' 
 
 Colonel Stanley then moved for a call of the House on 
 the day when the Prince's debts were to be considered. 
 Pitt trusted the honourable gentleman would not press for a 
 call ; but, the House being now excited, the Prime Minister 
 was obliged to give way. Mr. Grey, the man whom the 
 Prince had formerly asked to refute Fox's statement con- 
 cerning Mrs. Fitzherbert, then stood up, and in a brief but 
 forcible speech gave expression to the general feeling of the 
 House. It would make no difference to the public ulti- 
 mately, he said, and it would be more eligible at once to 
 pay the debts of His Royal Highness, and to create a tax 
 specifically for that purpose. He wanted the matter to b 
 plainly, fairly, and distinctly done, that the public might 
 clearly see what burdens they were to bear for His Royal 
 Highness. When the cries of the starving poor were assail- 
 ing them on all sides, the House would not be doing its 
 duty by granting establishments to Princes with a profusion 
 unparalleled. He had heard much of the dignity of His 
 Royal Highness, but he was of opinion that the dignity of 
 the Prince of Wales would be best maintained by his showing 
 a feeling heart for the poor, and an unwillingness to add to 
 their distresses. 
 
 Long and stormy debates followed the consideration of 
 the Prince's debts, when His Royal Highness was accused 
 of breaking the promise he had previously made the House 
 of incurring no further debts ; and many bitter and personal 
 allusions were made to His Royal Highness which his friends 
 were pleased to consider derogatory to his high station.
 
 PART OF A BARGAIN? 299 
 
 During the discussion of the subject in the House of Lords, 
 the Duke of Clarence, with an exquisite and characteristic 
 delicacy, stated that the Prince's ' marriage was part of a 
 bargain, the price being the payment of his debts.' 
 
 The Prince of Wales finally submitted to the decision of 
 Parliament ; the result being that he was allowed an income 
 of ^125,000 a year, exclusive of his revenue of the Duchy 
 of Cornwall, which amounted to ^13,000 per annum; the 
 Princess's jointure was fixed at ,50,000, and the important 
 sums of ^26,000 for the furnishing of Carlton House and 
 ^20,000 for jewels were also granted him ; however, out of 
 this revenue a yearly deduction was made, in order that his 
 debts might be gradually discharged. 
 
 At the period when the vast extravagance of the heir to 
 the Crown was day after day exciting the attention of the 
 nation, a growing dissatisfaction, which required but little 
 to raise it to the rank of a revolution, was gradually gaining 
 strength in the minds of the people, in consequence of the 
 disastrous and ruinous war with France. The taxes levied 
 on the country were enormous ; the public debt increased, 
 provisions became scarce, and famine was anticipated. 
 Throughout the nation a turbulent spirit everywhere mani- 
 fested itself; seditious ballads were circulated, demonstrations 
 held, and petitions forwarded to the King, praying for peace 
 with the French Republic. 
 
 The strong voice of popular indignation at last found vent 
 in October, 1795, when the King proceeded in state to open 
 Parliament. Dense and sullen crowds, to the number of 
 200,000, from whom ominous murmurs were heard, had 
 collected, and lined the way from Buckingham House 
 to Westminster, and when the carriage of the Duke of 
 Gloucester appeared, it was greeted by a storm of hisses. 
 Presently there were fresh signs of subdued excitement in 
 the mob, and then the great lumbering state coach con- 
 taining the King and two of his officers of state entered the
 
 300 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 park ; this was the signal for a cry that suddenly and ap- 
 pealingly rose from the vast assemblage. 
 
 'Bread give us bread ! Peace, peace!' and then came 
 an echo, ' No King, no King !' followed by hisses and groans. 
 When the royal carriage reached the Ordnance Office, a 
 bullet pierced the glass window of the coach on one side, 
 and passed out at the other. One of the Lords became 
 alarmed, but the King remained calm. ' Sit still, my Lord ; 
 we must not betray fear, whatever happens,' he whispered. 
 When he entered the House of Lords, the first person he 
 met was the Lord Chancellor, to whom he said, ' My Lord, 
 I have been shot at.' 
 
 On His Majesty's return from Westminster, the attitude 
 of the mob was still more offensive ; when he entered St. 
 James's Park, words of abuse and sedition assailed his ears ; 
 mud, filth, and stones were flung at the royal coach, some 
 of which struck the King, who was now much agitated, and 
 motioned to the Horse Guards at either side to keep off the 
 people, whose shrill, threatening cry rose again and again, 
 ' Bread ! bread ! peace ! No King, no King !' Still pressed 
 by the mob, the coach drove rapidly out of the park, and 
 round by the stable-yard into St. James's Palace. When the 
 King was about to alight, a fresh tumult took place, on which 
 one of the horses became frightened, and a groom was 
 dashed to the ground, in the midst of which excitement the 
 King escaped into the palace ; the mob then attacked the 
 state coach, and did it great injury, before the Guards were 
 enabled to disperse them. Shortly afterwards the King 
 entered a private carriage and proceeded to Buckingham 
 House ; but he was again pursued by the populace, who 
 threatened to pull him out of the carriage, and would 
 probably have done so, but for his rapid driving and the 
 timely arrival of the Life Guards. 
 
 Nor did this feeling of disloyalty quickly subside ; four 
 months later, when then Majesties were returning from
 
 A PIOUS SENTIMENT. 301 
 
 Drury Lane, a stone was flung at the royal carriage which 
 smashed one of the windows and struck Her Majesty in the 
 cheek ; a thousand pounds was offered as a reward for the 
 discovery of the perpetrator of this act, but to no purpose. 
 It is no wonder that, considering the state of popular feeling 
 at the period, and the character of his successor, His Majesty 
 felt assured, as he told Lord Eldon, that he shouL 1 be the 
 last King of England. 
 
 Early in January, 1796, the Princess of Wales gave birth 
 to a daughter ; the royal babe was baptized Charlotte, and a 
 few months after its birth its unhappy parents separated for 
 ever. The Prince, as usual, absented himself from Carlton 
 House ; hints were given the Princess that she should seek 
 for a separation, which not being taken, Lord Cholmondeley 
 informed her the Prince did not mean to live with her any 
 longer ; she replied that such an intention should be con- 
 veyed to her directly from her husband in writing, and that, 
 should a separation take place, their intercourse should 
 never, under any circumstances, be resumed. Nothing 
 loth, the Prince wrote to her at once. Commencing by 
 styling her ' madam,' he goes on to say : 
 
 ' Our inclinations are not in our power, nor should either 
 of us be held responsible to the other because Nature has 
 not made us suitable to each other. Tranquil and comfort- 
 able society is, however, in our power ; let our intercourse, 
 therefore, be restricted to that, and I will distinctly subscribe 
 to the condition which you required through Lord Chol- 
 mondeley, that, even in the event of any accident happening 
 to my daughter, which,' adds this virtuous Prince, ' I trust 
 Providence in its mercy will avert, I shall not infringe the 
 terms of the restriction by proposing at any period a connec- 
 tion of a more particular nature.' 
 
 The Princess was of course obliged to acquiesce in this 
 fate without complaint. In her reply, she said his avowal 
 merely confirmed what he had tacitly insinuated for twelve
 
 302 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 months ; that she should not answer his letter, if it had not 
 been conceived in terms which made it doubtful whether 
 this arrangement proceeded from her or from him; 'and 
 you are aware,' she adds, ' that the credit of it belongs to 
 you alone.' As she had no protector but His Majesty, she 
 referred herself solely to him, she said, on the subject, and 
 then adds : 
 
 ' I retain every sentiment of gratitude for the situation in 
 which I find myself as Princess of Wales ; enabled, by your 
 means, to indulge in the free exercise of a virtue dear to my 
 heart I mean charity. It will be my duty, likewise, to act 
 upon another motive, that of giving an example of patience 
 and resignation under every trial. Do me the justice to 
 believe that I shall never cease to pray for your happiness, 
 and to be your much devoted 
 
 ' CAROLINE.' 
 
 When the Princess sought advice from the King, he sug- 
 gested that an attempt at reconciliation should be made, and 
 that she should show the Prince some anxiety for his return. 
 It was hard for an outraged woman to assume such a tone 
 towards a man who had so grossly wronged her, but she was 
 told it was her duty. She complied, and accordingly wrote 
 to her truant husband : 
 
 ' I look forward with infinite pleasure to the moment that 
 will bring you to Carlton House, and that will for ever ter- 
 minate a misunderstanding which on my side, I assure you, 
 will never be thought of again. If you do me the honour 
 of seeking my society in future, I will do everything to make 
 it agreeable to you. If I should displease you, you must be 
 generous enough to forgive me, and count upon my gratitude, 
 which I shall feel to the end of my life. I may look for 
 this, as mother of your daughter, and as one who is ever 
 yours.' 
 
 To this humble appeal the profligate proved unmoved, and
 
 WHAT LORD THURLOW SAID. 303 
 
 the Princess retired to Charlton Villa, Blackheath, where 
 she lived in the most unceremonious manner possible. 
 
 Thurlow, the Lord Chancellor, according to the Duke 
 of Leeds' ' Memoranda,' came to the conclusion ' that the 
 Prince's strange conduct could only be imputed to madness;' 
 and, years after, Charles Greville makes reference to this 
 hereditary disease. 
 
 ' I am persuaded,' he says, ' that the King ' (George IV.) 
 ' is subject to occasional impressions which produce effects 
 like insanity ; that, if they continue to increase, he will end 
 by being decidedly mad.' 
 
 Lady Jersey had, by this time, fallen into disgrace with 
 her royal lover, and was consequently dismissed, when the 
 Prince betrayed a desire to return to Mrs. Fitzherbert, who 
 had separated from him on his marriage with the Princess ; 
 but this wish of his was not acceded to with that readiness 
 which he flattered himself it deserved. Mrs. Fitzherbert 
 had, during the period of their interrupted intimacy, con- 
 tinued to maintain her magnificent establishment in Park 
 Lane, which was supported by an allowance of ,10,000 a 
 year, made her by the Prince, and had continued to enter- 
 tain society. Her guests included not only the most dis- 
 tinguished members of the nobility, but even royalty itself, 
 as represented in the persons of the Dukes of the blood royal. 
 There was not one of the royal family, she assured Lord 
 Stourton, who had not acted with kindness to her, and as 
 for the King, ' from the time she set footing in England, till 
 he ceased to reign, had he been her own father, he could 
 not have acted towards her with greater tenderness and 
 affection.' But, of all the family, the Duke of York con- 
 stituted himself her special friend, and was generally the 
 organ of communication between her and royalty ; knowing 
 that she had been so wronged, and had borne her injuries 
 with such patience, they strove to make her all the compen- 
 sation they could.
 
 304 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 When, therefore, the Prince urged his desire of renewing 
 his connection with her, she was much beset with difficulties 
 and doubts as to whether she could do so with satisfaction 
 to her own conscience ; and, whilst she hesitated, many 
 members of this royal, but remarkable family, not only male, 
 but female, urged a reconciliation, ' even upon a pretext of 
 duty.' Mrs. Fitzherbert's scruples, indeed, went so far as to 
 carry her to the highest authorities of her Church, and Father 
 Nassau, a priest belonging to one of the ambassador's chapels 
 in Warwick Street, was despatched to Rome to lay the intri- 
 cate case before the Pope. His Holiness decided that, as 
 her marriage with the Prince was perfectly legitimate, she, 
 was justified in resuming her connection with her husband. 
 The Prince was delighted that his desires were thus acceded 
 to, and urged her to allow him to take up his residence with 
 her in a private manner ; but this she declined, and resolved 
 that their reconciliation should be made as public as possible ; 
 for which purpose she gave a splendid breakfast, when not 
 only the Prince and his royal brothers attended, but all 
 fashionable London. 
 
 For the next eight years they dwelt together, the Prince 
 living in comparative retirement, in order to retrench his 
 expenses. They were extremely poor, but as merry as 
 crickets ; ' and, as a proof of their poverty, she told me,' 
 says Lord Stourton, ' that once, on their returning to 
 Brighton from London, they mustered their common means, 
 and could not raise five pounds between them. Upon this 
 or some other occasion, she related to me that an old and 
 faithful servant endeavoured to force them to accept ,60, 
 which he said he had accumulated in the service of the best 
 of masters and mistresses.' Their separation was due to the 
 Prince having formed a connection with Lady Hertford, and 
 the subsequent humiliating slights which Mrs. Fitzherbert 
 received This time their parting was hnal.
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 Attempts on the King's Life Margaret Nicholson and His 
 Majesty The Queen Seized with a Consternation The 
 Madman at Drury Lane Despard's Conspiracy The 
 Prince of Wales once more in Debt Signs of the King's 
 Malady His Majesty's Fear of a Regency Speaks of 
 Resigning the Crown His Visit to the Princess of Wales 
 The Queen Plays a New Part The Town Divided into 
 Factions. 
 
 DURING his reign three attempts were made on the life of 
 the King, and, strange to say, two of the would-be regicides 
 suffered from the affliction to which His Majesty was 
 periodically subject. The first of these attacks was made 
 by a woman, Margaret Nicholson, who, at the moment he 
 was stepping from his carriage, in order to enter St. James's, 
 suddenly broke from the crowd and presented him with a 
 paper. The King stretched forward to take it, when, with 
 a rapid movement, she aimed a blow at his heart with a 
 knife. His Majesty stepped back, and the demented 
 Margaret made a second blow, but so thin-bladed, old, and 
 worn was the weapon which she wielded in this tragic 
 manner that, though it struck with full force against the 
 royal waistcoat, it bent without penetrating. Those around 
 now rushed in alarm on the woman, the knife was wrenched 
 from her hands, and she was immediately secured. His 
 Majesty, judging from the absurd manner with which she 
 had attempted his life, declared her a lunatic. ' The poor 
 
 M
 
 306 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 creature is mad,' he said, with evident fellow-feeling ; ' don't 
 hurt her ; she has not hurt me.' 
 
 The news of the attack was of course immediately ex- 
 aggerated, seriously spoken of as a diabolical plot, and 
 caused the greatest sensation. The Queen, on first hearing 
 from the King's lips that an attempt had been made on his 
 life, was ' seized with a consternation,' as Miss Burney duly 
 records, whilst a painful silence was only interrupted by the 
 sobs of the Princesses, and not a dry eye was to be found in 
 the Royal household except His Majesty's, who, being 
 aware that he had been in no possible danger, took a more 
 sensible view of the occurrence than those loyal ones 
 around him. In due time Margaret Nicholson had the 
 honour of being twice examined before the Privy Council, 
 where she explained her claims to the British throne, 
 which were, however, not admitted, and stated her belief 
 that it was only by the King's removal that she could 
 come into her own. She was accordingly removed to 
 Bedlam. 
 
 The later attempts on the King's life were of a more dan- 
 gerous character. In the spring of 1800 His Majesty held a 
 review in Hyde Park, when a musket-ball struck one of the 
 clerks in the Navy-office, who was standing within a few 
 yards of the King, pierced through the fleshy part of his 
 thigh, passed through the coat of a Frenchman, and finally 
 this remarkable ball spent itself on the breast of a boy with- 
 out doing him the least harm It was impossible to trace 
 from which direction it had come, or by whom it had been 
 fired, as the Grenadier Guards were discharging a volley at 
 the same instant. The King remained unmoved, and 
 evinced not the slightest sign of fear. Within a few hours 
 later, a third attack was made, with, fortunately, as little 
 effect as on the former occasions. The place selected fcj 
 the design was Drury Lane Theatre, where the King had 
 commanded the performance of Colley Gibber's comedy,
 
 FIRING AT THE KING. 307 
 
 ' She Would, and She Would Not,' in which his son's mis- 
 tress, Mrs. Jordan, was to appear. 
 
 Scarcely had the King entered the royal box, when he was 
 seen by the audience, who applauded as usual, and, on his 
 coming forward to bow his acknowledgments, a man in the 
 front seat of the pit levelled a horse-pistol at him, and fired. 
 His Majesty retired a step or two at the report, but, almost 
 immediately recollecting himself, came forward, coolly took 
 up his opera-glass, and surveyed the house as if nothing had 
 happened to disturb him. Lord Salisbury, his Lord Cham- 
 berlain, far more agitated, urged him to retire, when he 
 hastily turned round, and said, ' Sir, you discompose your- 
 self as well as me. I shall not stir one step.' 
 
 The intended assassin was immediately seized and roughly 
 dragged over the spikes of the orchestra into the music-room 
 at the back of the stage. He was found to be a lunatic 
 named James Hadfield, who had formerly been a soldier in 
 the 1 5th Light Dragoons, and who declared, with the air of 
 a philosopher, he was tired of life, but had not the resolution 
 to commit suicide. His pistol had contained two balls, one 
 of which struck the wainscot a couple of feet above the 
 King's head, and the other passed through a curtain some 
 inches higher. 
 
 Meanwhile, the theatre was in a complete uproar from pit 
 to gallery, cheers and cries of ' God save the King ' filling 
 the house. His Majesty was indeed the person who ap- 
 peared most free from agitation on the occasion. When the 
 Queen presently arrived, he spoke to her in German, to calm 
 her. 
 
 'There was a squib,' quoth he. 
 
 * A squib !' said she. ' I heard the word pistol, and the 
 report.' 
 
 ' Squib or pistol, the danger is now over, and you may 
 come forward and make your bow,' replied the royal 
 spouse. 
 
 20 2
 
 3o8 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 He then ordered the curtain to go up, and the play to 
 begin as usual, and so strong was his inherent trait of imper- 
 turbability, that, between the comedy and the afterpiece, he 
 was noticed to take a sound doze, as was usual with him 
 whenever he attended the play. 
 
 Three years later, his life was supposed to be in danger 
 hrough Despard's conspiracy. Despard had been a brave 
 soldier, who had fought at San Juan with Nelson, and more 
 than once hazarded his life for his country's glory. Unjustly 
 discharged from a post which he had held in Honduras, 
 refused a hearing, and indignant at a long confinement in 
 Coldbath Fields' prison, his loyalty turned to hate, and it 
 was believed he resolved to overthrow the Government and 
 destroy the King's life. At his trial, Lord Nelson came for- 
 ward to give evidence of his heroism and loyalty in the past; 
 he said : 
 
 'We went on the Spanish Main together. We spent 
 many nights together in our clothes upon the ground. We 
 have measured the height of the enemy's wall together. In 
 all that period of time, no man could have shown more 
 zealous attachment to his sovereign and his country than 
 Colonel Despard did.' 
 
 But even such testimony did not rescue him from death, 
 and in February, 1803, Colonel Edward Marcus Despard, 
 with six confederates, stood condemned to die. Their 
 execution, which took place at Horsemonger Lane Gaol, 
 was attended by a crowd numbering over 20,000 people, all 
 in a state of suppressed excitement. Colonel Despard ap- 
 peared calm and resolute ; he addressed the crowd as 
 ' fellow-citizens,' and told them that, after serving his country 
 faithfully, honourably, and, he trusted, usefully, for thirty 
 years, he was about to suffer death upon a scaffold for a crime 
 of which he was not guilty. 
 
 ' But, fellow-citizens,' he said, ' I trust and hope, notwith- 
 standing my fate, and perhaps the fate of many others who
 
 ROMAN CATHOLIC RIGHTS. 309 
 
 rmy follow me, that still the principles of liberty, justice, and 
 humanity will triumph over falsehood, despotism, and delu- 
 sion, and everything else hostile to the interests of the human 
 race.' 
 
 At the conclusion of this speech, ringing cheers burst from 
 the vast crowd : then came the terrible moment when this 
 man's soul was launched into eternity. After the execution, 
 his head was severed from his body, when the headsman 
 held it up to the crowd, exclaiming, 'This is the head of 
 the traitor, Edward Marcus Despard,' at which the crowd 
 hooted and hissed, and otherwise expressed feelings of dis- 
 loyalty. 
 
 It may be mentioned here that, two days after Despard's 
 execution, the Prince of Wales's debts were again brought 
 before the nation, when a fresh appeal was daringly and 
 shamelessly made for him. It was understood he wished to 
 restore his establishment, but even the courtly Lord Malmes- 
 bury said that any fresh sums granted him would ' evidently 
 be squandered away in the same way he has hitherto lived 
 in, without his assuming any one single exterior mark of 
 royalty or splendour to prove that he and his hangers-on 
 do not consider it a farce.' However, through the influence 
 of Fox and the new Premier, ' the milk-and-water Addington,' 
 who was anxious to secure the favour of his future King, the 
 country was once more heavily burdened, and a sum of 
 ;6o,ooo a year, for three years and a half, was bestowed 
 upon this spendthrift Prince. 
 
 Early in the year 1801, there were rumours abroad that 
 the Roman Catholics had summoned up sufficient audacity 
 to seek for an equality of those civil rights enjoyed by the 
 rest of their fellow-subjects. Lord Castlereagh, it was 
 known, had been for several weeks in London striving to 
 negotiate for the measure with the Government. Such a 
 movement as this was looked on by the King, whose narrow- 
 minded bigotry in his best moments strongly savoured of
 
 310 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 insanity, with positive horror, and he resolved that his 
 opinions on the subject should be quickly known. Accord- 
 ingly, when holding one of his ordinary levies in the latter 
 part of January, he addressed Mr. Dundas, the only Cabinet 
 Minister present. 'What what what,' said his Sacred 
 Majesty, abruptly, 'what is it that this young Lord has 
 brought over that they are going to throw at my head ? The 
 most Jacobinical thing I ever heard of. I shall reckon,' he 
 added, in a still more flurried manner, ' any man my per- 
 sonal enemy who proposes any such measure. What what 
 what ?' 
 
 Dundas, nothing abashed by this Royal speech, replied 
 calmly, ' Your Majesty will find among those who are friendly 
 to that measure, some whom you never supposed to be your 
 enemies.' 
 
 His hurried manner and flushed appearance were then 
 little noticed, though it was afterwards remarked as pro- 
 bably the first indication of his old malady. 
 
 Shortly after this Pitt wrote to the King, stating it as his 
 opinion, and that of the majority of the Cabinet, that the 
 admission of Catholics and Dissenters to Parliament would, 
 under certain conditions, serve to traquillize Ireland, backing 
 this statement with many strong arguments, and concluding 
 by stating that his continuance in office must depend on 
 His Majesty's consent to the proposed measures. The 
 King wrathfully replied that his coronation oath prevented 
 him from entertaining such a proposal, whereon Pitt sent in 
 his resignation. 
 
 The King's mind was now far from tranquil ; he read the 
 coronation oath repeatedly to himself, then to his family, 
 and asked them if they understood it. ' If I violate it, I 
 am no longer Sovereign of the country,' he said. He next 
 read it to General Garth, informing that military man ' he 
 had rather beg his bread from door to door than consent 
 to any measure which gave his Catholic subjects religious
 
 DR. WILLISS INFLUENCE, 311 
 
 equality,' and finally he asked the Lord Chancellor's opinion 
 on the question, having little doubt that it would fully agree 
 with his own. But the Lord Chancellor held 'that His 
 Majesty was not in any degree fettered by his coronation 
 oath in giving the Royal assent to a measure which should 
 have the previous approbation of both Houses of Parliament ;' 
 a conviction with which the King was highly indignant, as 
 it suddenly bereft him of all hypocritical excuses for his 
 gross illiberality. 
 
 A few days after Pitt's resignation, it was announced that 
 the King suffered from a heavy cold. A little later, His 
 Majesty wrote to the new Prime Minister, Addington, laud- 
 ing James's powders, a medicine for which he entertained a 
 special affection ; still no suspicions of his madness were en- 
 tertained. He was now staying at Buckingham House, and 
 when Lord Chatham called there to see him, His Majesty 
 said to him, with an air of great gravity, ' As for my cold, it 
 is well; but what else I have, I owe to your brother' (Pitt). 
 After some other of his friends had conversed with him, and 
 noted the turn of his conversations, they were not unpre- 
 pared to hear it announced that he was in a high fever ; for 
 the treatment of which, strange enough, a medical man who 
 made lunacy his special study, to wit, Dr. Willis, was called 
 in. None were now admitted to Buckingham House, except 
 che physicians ; and, as on previous occasions, all details of 
 the King's illness were kept as private as possible, yet the 
 truth gradually leaked out that the Ruler of Great Britain 
 and Ireland was mad once more. 
 
 George Rose met Lord Essex, early in February, under 
 the piazza of St. James's, when his Lordship informed him 
 that the King was entirely deranged. Entering the levee- 
 room, they found Lord Chesterfield, who spoke with great 
 concern of the King, but said he knew of no particulars of 
 his exact state, as no bulletins were issued. All through his 
 illness, the scheme for Catholic emancipation preyed upon
 
 312 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 his mind ; for a whole day he remained without uttering a 
 word or taking anything, after which he persisting!)' ex- 
 claimed, ' But I will remain true to the Church I will 
 remain true to the Church I will remain true to the Church,' 
 a statement which he duly followed up by mentioning the 
 names of Pitt, Dundas, and Greville Ministers favourable 
 to the measure with hearty and horrible imprecations. He 
 was then placed under restraint ; but he declared he was not 
 mad. His detestation and jealousy of the heir to the Crown 
 now came to the surface, unrestrained by any conventional 
 pretence of paternal regard. Lord Brougham says that he 
 hated the Prince ' with a hatred scarcely consistent with the 
 supposition of a sound mind ;' but, now that his brain was 
 diseased, this detestation became intensified ; and he be- 
 sought them not to send for the elder Dr. Willis, for there 
 would be a Regency, in which case he would never again 
 resume his functions as Sovereign. 
 
 During his attack, it was necessary to get his signature 
 for the repeal of the Brown Bread Act, when a singular 
 farce was gone through. The Chancellor took the commis- 
 sion for the Bill to Buckingham House, but was told he 
 could not see the King ; however, Dr. Willis, who had 
 always great influence over His Majesty, undertook to obtain 
 the royal signature, to which his lordship agreed. Willis 
 then informed the King that it was necessary he should sign 
 his name to the paper. ' Then,' said the King, readily 
 enough, ' I will sign my best George R.' 
 
 The merciful Duke of Cumberland subsequently told the 
 Prince of Wales that, for such conduct, the Lord Chancellor 
 deserved a rope and a hatchet. At last the King's illness 
 became so serious that, for a brief while, his life was despaired 
 of, during which time the Prince was amusing himself about 
 town as usual ; and, at an evening concert given by Lady 
 Hamilton, he asked the ex-French minister, ' Savez vous, 
 Monsieur de Calone^ que man fire est aussi fou que jamais f
 
 ' AN ODD MAN' 313 
 
 The Prince indeed really knew little of how the King did ; 
 for, when he called at Buckingham House, he was not per- 
 mitted to see him, and was never communicated with as to 
 the increase or decrease of his malady. But this attack of 
 insanity, at least in its bad form, did not last long ; early in 
 March, on the night succeeding one of his most critical 
 days, the King fell into a profound sleep, and awoke almost 
 well. 
 
 On his recovery, he made some inquiries as to those who 
 had asked for him, and regarding what had passed in the 
 House of Commons, when he was told that one man had 
 moved for an inquiry into the state of His Majesty's health. 
 He asked who that was, and being informed it was Mr. 
 Rich, 'Ah/ he replied, 'he was always an odd man.' His 
 oddness at having dared to desire such an inquiry should be 
 made was now glaringly perceptible. The King then bade 
 Dr. Willis write to Lord Eldon, Addington, and Pitt of his 
 recovery; and, speaking of the latter, he said, 
 
 ' Tell him I am now quite well quite recovered from my 
 illness ; but what has he not to answer for who is the cause 
 of my having been ill at all ?' 
 
 When Pitt heard this, he informed His Majesty that he 
 would never during his reign bring forward the question of 
 Catholic emancipation ; on hearing which, the King de- 
 lightedly said, ' Now my mind will be at ease.' 
 
 He was, however, far from being in the possession of his 
 senses, and at the end of the month was unable to attend 
 the drawing-room, at which both the Queen and Prince were 
 present, when the latter, before a large number of courtiers, 
 behaved with great rudeness to Her Majesty. A little later 
 on the King expressed an idea to the Prince of Wales, which 
 had floated through his mind during his former madness, to 
 the effect that he would resign the crown. On hearing such 
 a delightful piece of intelligence, the Prince sent in hot 
 haste for Lord Eldon, the Lord Chancellor, and, as the
 
 3H COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 Hon. George Rose mentions in his diaries, informed him 
 that His Majesty was anxious to devolve the government on 
 him (the Prince) ; ' that he wished, therefore, the Chancellor 
 would consider the proper mode of that being carried into 
 effect, and that it was the King's intention to retire to 
 Hanover or to America.' The Prince also visited Lord 
 Rosslyn on the subject, but neither of their lordships 
 seem to have given the matter serious consideration ; the 
 Prince then informed them it was the wishes of the Queen 
 and of his brothers to take measures for confining His 
 Majesty, and that he, the Prince, much objected to the 
 attendance of the Willises ; but the Lord Chancellor in- 
 formed him they were placed about the King's person from 
 ' notorious necessity.' 
 
 In May the King and the royal family retired to Kew, 
 and in this month he was thought sufficiently well to preside 
 at a Privy Council. No sooner was he allowed to ride alone 
 than he paid a visit to the Princess of Wales, whose unhappy 
 situation had given him much uneasiness during his mad- 
 ness. 
 
 ' The first time he rode out after his illness,' writes Lord 
 Minto, ' he rode over Westminster Bridge to Blackheath, 
 never telling anyone where he was going till he turned up 
 to the Princess's door. She was not up, but jumped out of 
 bed, and went to receive him in her bedgown and nightcap. 
 He told Lord Uxbridge that the Princess had run in his 
 head during his illness perpetually, and he had made a 
 resolution to go and see her the first time he went out, 
 without telling anybody.' 
 
 Though he continued for ten years subsequently to wield 
 the sceptre of the most important nation in Europe, it is 
 doubtful if he ever recovered his senses. Three years later, 
 in 1804, he was ill again, when the Prince of Wales had an 
 interview with him, an account of which he at once com- 
 municated to Charles Fox, who, speaking of this visit, says :
 
 THE QUEEN S CONDUCT. 315 
 
 ' There was no cordiality or pretended affection, but common 
 talk on weather, scandal, etc. a great deal of the latter 
 and as the Prince thought very idle and foolish in this 
 manner, and running wildly from topic to topic, though not 
 absolutely incoherent.' 
 
 At this unhappy period, the Queen, always heretofore his 
 friend and comforter, now shrank from him, fearing some 
 outbreak of his dreaded frenzy. This conduct on her part 
 grieved him intensely. Lord Colchester, in his diaries, says : 
 'The Queen lives upon ill terms with the King. They 
 never sleep or dine together; she persists in living entirely 
 separate ;' a statement to which Lord Malmesbury adds his 
 testimony. 
 
 ' The Queen,' says his Lordship, ' will never receive the 
 King without one of the Princesses being present ; never 
 says in reply a word. Piques herself on this discreet silence, 
 and, when in London, locks the doors of her white-room 
 her boudoir against him.' 
 
 After many fluctuations of sanity and insanity, the King 
 became so violent that he had to be subjected to the strait- 
 waistcoat ; he also at this time suffered considerably from 
 gout, when his legs swelled to a vast size, and his general 
 health became so bad that his life was considered in 
 imminent danger. Once more the Prince of Wales's hopes 
 rose ; the King's madness, he confidently assured Pitt, must 
 last for several months ; a Regency was again in contempla- 
 tion, when His Majesty once more rapidly grew better, and 
 was taken out in a carriage by the Queen, and driven 
 through the principal streets to show his subjects how far he 
 had recovered. 
 
 During his illness, the town had been, as usual, divided in 
 its allegiance towards the King and the Prince ; the former 
 announced that his Majesty was perfectly well, whilst the 
 latter hinted at dark things regarding their Sovereign's health. 
 Lady Malmesbury, indignant that the new doctors who
 
 316 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 attended the King issued bulletins contrary to her desires, 
 loudly proclaimed them merely ' signing physicians,' who 
 set their names to what others reported ; whilst one of the 
 royal maids of honour wished them, ' As the Spaniards say, 
 with Mahomet.' But, in the midst of this party warfare, 
 ' Everybody,' says Lord Minto, ' goes to see " Valentine and 
 Orson," and weep over the death of a bear.'
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 The Princess of Wales in Retirement The Young Princess 
 and her Mother The Douglas Scandal and its Con- 
 sequences The Secret Commission The Princes? Tri- 
 umphs Her Popularity Increased The Real Lord Byron 
 The Princess's Indiscretions and Eccentricities The 
 Prince's Amour with Lady Hertford The Regency Com- 
 mences The Princess's Visit to Windsor Fresh Insults 
 The Feelings of the People. 
 
 DURING the early years of her separation, the Princess of 
 Wales lived at Blackheath in comparative retirement, taking 
 little part in the State ceremonies ; holding no Court, but 
 receiving her friends, whom she delighted to entertain witb. 
 pleasant dinners and//// soupers, \vhich were all the merrier 
 from the hostess's hatred of ceremony. Her guests, at this 
 time, numbered some of the most brilliant members of the 
 nobility, and many of the most distinguished foreigners of 
 the day ; amongst the latter were the Comte d'Artois, 
 afterwards Charles X., the Due de Barri, Prince de Conde, 
 and Due de Bourbon. In private, her life was solaced by 
 the company of her little daughter, then a most promising 
 and vivacious child, who bade fair to become an interesting 
 and clever woman. Lord Minto, who became the Princess's 
 friend and adviser, gives us a pleasant picture of a few hours 
 he spent at Blackheath in 1798. 
 
 ' Our dinner,' he writes, ' consisted of Lady Jane Dundas, 
 Lady Charlotte Grenville, and Lady Mary Bentinck. Some 
 men, among whom was Tom Grenville, disappointed her.
 
 318 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 Princess Charlotte was in the room till dinner, and is really 
 one of the finest and pleasantest children I ever saw. The 
 Princess of Wales romped with her about the carpet on her 
 knees. Princess Charlotte, though very lively, and excessively 
 fond of romps and play, is remarkably good and governable. 
 One day she had been a little naughty, however, and they 
 were reprimanding her. Amongst the rest, Miss Garth said 
 to her, 
 
 * " You have been so very naughty, I don't know what we 
 must do with you." 
 
 ' The little girl answered, crying, and quite penitently, 
 
 * " You must soot me ;" meaning shoot her ; but they 
 let her off rather cheaper. Our dinner was pleasant as 
 could be.' 
 
 But the keen delight which the society of her child afforded 
 the Princess was not long permitted her ; and, under the 
 plea that her surroundings were not suitable to the education 
 of the heiress-apparent to the Throne, the Prince desired to 
 take her under his own care ; but here the King, fortunately, 
 stepped in, and seeing the malignity which prompted this 
 act, as well as fearing the pernicious influence of Carlton 
 House, he insisted on the equal right of the unhappy mother 
 to instruct her child, and claimed for himself the duty and 
 responsibility of her education. The Prince, who had not 
 looked for interference in this quarter, angrily remonstrated, 
 declared this was a direct insult offered him, refused to re- 
 linquish his paternal rights, and avowed that nothing but 
 'strong, particular reasons' could justify His Majesty in his 
 conduct. The King promptly admitted that he was influenced 
 by ' strong, particular reasons,' and that necessity, as well as 
 law, precedent, and the wishes of the mother, required he 
 should become the guardian of his grandchild. To this the 
 Prince, after much fume and fury, acting on the advice of 
 Mrs. Fitzherbert and his ex-mistress, now Mrs. Charles Fox, 
 submitted The Princess Charlotte was then removed to a
 
 SIR SIDNEY SMITH. 319 
 
 house in the vicinity of Blackheath, where she was placed 
 under the charge of Lady Elgin ; and the intercourse be- 
 tween mother and daughter was limited to a weekly visit. 
 
 The maternal feelings of the Princess, being thwarted in 
 this way, found vent in adopting children, and placing them 
 out under care in the village, where she constantly visited 
 them ; but, not satisfied with this, she subsequently had one 
 of them, an infant of a few months old, named William 
 Austin, removed to her own house, where she tended him 
 with the greatest care and affection, an indiscretion she soon 
 had cause to bitterly repent. Her interest in children, in- 
 deed, prompted her to form the acquaintance of a woman 
 who subsequently almost effected her ruin. Hearing that 
 her neighbour, Lady Douglas, had been confined of a re- 
 markably fine infant, she, with that want of discretion and 
 thought so characteristic of her, without making any inquiries 
 as to her ladyship, called on her, and an acquaintance so 
 commenced soon ripened into intimacy. Lady Douglas 
 was the daughter of a soldier who rose to the rank of colonel ; 
 being a handsome and vivacious woman, she succeeded in 
 marrying Sir John Douglas, a warrior of some renown. 9 
 
 Soon after the Princess made her acquaintance, Sir Sidney 
 Smith, an old naval friend of Sir John's, returned to England, 
 and became almost a part of the Douglas family. Sir Sidney 
 in due course became known to the Princess, and visited 
 her frequently, a circumstance of which Lady Douglas, whose 
 reputation, it may be mentioned, was not above reproach, 
 by no means approved, and at which she could not conceal 
 her resentment The friendship between her and the Prin- 
 cess lasted two years, when the Douglases went to Devon- 
 shire. In their absence, the Princess came to hear of some 
 remarks her ladyship had made concerning her, and she 
 then for the first time made inquiries into Lady Douglas's 
 character, which had not a satisfactory result ; accordingly, 
 when, on my lady's return to Blackheath, she called on the
 
 320 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 Princess, Her Royal Highness refused to see her, and di- 
 rected one of her ladies to write and request Lady Douglas 
 not to visit her again. 
 
 This woman so scorned became a dangerous thing, and 
 she resolved to have her revenge. Soon after, she declared, 
 she received by the twopenny post a very coarse drawing, 
 which was accompanied by an anonymous letter, charging 
 her with intriguing with Sir Sidney Smith, and other indis- 
 cretions ; this she affirmed to be written ' by that mischievous 
 person, the Princess of Wales ;' and the language it con- 
 tained, she added, ' would have disgraced a housemaid.' 
 Hearing of the accusation, the Princess sent for the Duke 
 of Kent, and brought him to defend her from the charge ; 
 accordingly, he had an interview with Sir John Douglas 
 and Sir Sidney Smith, when the matter was allowed to 
 drop. 
 
 But this arrangement by no means suited Lady Douglas's 
 plans, and she now freely circulated not only the story of 
 the letter, but, by an afterthought, several scandalous charges 
 against the Princess, some of which soon reached the Duke 
 of Sussex's ears, who promptly demanded an interview with 
 her. To him she made the most infamous statements, 
 cleverly calculated to completely ruin the honour of the 
 friendless woman who had slighted her. The Princess, she 
 informed the Royal Duke, was not only a coarse, but a 
 vicious woman ; that she had acknowledged to her some 
 time since she was about to become a mother ; that her 
 person had even evidence of pregnancy ; and that to baffle 
 suspicion, she had pretended to adopt a child who was in 
 reality her own. 
 
 The Duke of Sussex immediately rushed, not to the slan- 
 dered woman for explanation or denial, but to the Prince of 
 Wales, who hailed this chance of ridding himself of the 
 woman he so unjustly hated with signs of rejoicing ; these 
 base charges were accordingly taken down in full detail and
 
 BASE CHARGES. 321 
 
 submitted to Lord Thurlow and Sir Samuel Romilly The 
 former declared at once he did not believe Lady Douglas's 
 incoherent statements, that they 'did not hang together,' 
 and had no dates. The princely husband was, however, by 
 no means rejoiced at such an opinion of his wife's virtue, and 
 a commission was therefore formed to take the evidence of 
 witnesses to whom the immaculate Lady Douglas referred. 
 Over five months were expended in striving to get up a case 
 as damning as possible, which should be sufficient to blast 
 the Princess's reputation for ever The light of publicity 
 was withheld from the sittings of the commission, and neither 
 the accused nor her representative counsel were permitted 
 to attend : moreover, the witnesses, after examination, 
 were enjoined to secrecy, and no cross-examination was 
 allowed 
 
 The principal witnesses against Her Royal Highness were 
 her own servants, who had been appointed to her household 
 by the Prince, and whom she was humiliatingly forced to 
 take back again into her service. One of these, John Cole, 
 whom she had recently insisted on discharging, bore testi- 
 mony that criminal intercourse had taken place between the 
 Princess and Captain Manby and Sir Sydney Smith ; whilst 
 another of them, Bidgood, who had been seen in serious 
 converse with Lady Douglas, accused the Princess of like 
 conduct with Captain Hood and Lawrence, the painter. 
 Sir John and Lady Douglas also made their charges of her 
 having been delivered of a child ; but, notwithstanding the 
 manner, in every way prejudicial to the Princess, in which 
 the commission was conducted, the evidence was completely 
 rebutted by her medical attendant, as well as by other trust- 
 worthy witnesses ; whilst the crowning blow was dealt her 
 slanderers by the positive proof given that the boy Austin 
 was the son of a shoemaker, born in Brownlow Street Hos- 
 pital. The whole testimony was now laid before the King, 
 who, though satisfied of her innocence, yet allowed nine
 
 322 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 weeks of cruel suspense to pass without communicating with 
 her ; at the end of that time the Princess addressed a letter 
 to him, begging that he would hasten his judgment on the 
 matter, and grant her relief, for this unhappy delay caused 
 her to sink in the regard of his subjects, and gave an unfair 
 and temporary triumph to her enemies. 
 
 No notice was taken of this appeal, when letters came 
 from the unfortunate Princess's parents imploring that a 
 decision might be given ; but yet over two months were 
 allowed to elapse since the Princess had written before His 
 Gracious Majesty deigned to reply. The facts of the case, 
 he said, did not warrant any further steps to be taken by the 
 Government, excepting such as his law servants might think 
 fit to recommend for the prosecution of Lady Douglas ; 
 that there was no longer a necessity for him to decline 
 receiving the Princess into his royal presence ; that he had 
 seen with satisfaction the decided proofs of the falsehood 
 of the accusation of her pregnancy and delivery ; but that 
 there were other evidences against her which he regarded 
 with serious concern. These circumstances were her easy 
 condescension and ready familiarity, which often amounted 
 to indiscretion, in her bearing to those around her, and 
 which were most deadly sins in the eyes of his sacred and 
 ceremonial-loving Majesty. 
 
 Upon receiving this letter, she wrote, requesting permis- 
 sion to wait on the King at Windsor a favour denied her 
 since her accusation to which he replied he would prefer 
 seeing her in town some day during the week, of which 
 he would duly apprise her. A short time after this, a 
 second note came from His Majesty, which caused her 
 some alarm. Lest she might be led to expect, from his 
 former letter, that he would name a day for her reception, 
 His Majesty thought it right to acquaint her that the Prince, 
 ' on receiving the documents concerning her investigation, 
 made a formal statement to him of his intention to put them
 
 1 THE BOOK? 323 
 
 into the hands of his lawyers, and prayed that His Majesty 
 would suspend any further steps in the matter until the Prince 
 should be able to submit to him the statement he proposed 
 to make.' The King, therefore, deferred naming a day for 
 seeing her for the present. 
 
 To this she replied that she had already been banished 
 seven months from the royal family, pending an inquiry 
 affecting both her life and honour ; that at the termination 
 of the inquiry, it was the opinion of his sworn servants, there 
 was no longer any reason why His Majesty should decline 
 to receive her. She declared this renewed application, 
 made by the Prince of Wales for a fresh trial, was a severe 
 infliction, one which she hoped His Majesty would avert 
 Finally she besought his permission to pay her duty to him. 
 The King made no answer, when she wrote once more to 
 express her disappointment, and to acquaint him that, 
 unless the justice was done her of being received by him, 
 she felt herself bound to take a step which he might 
 regret. 
 
 The step to which she referred was the publication of her 
 case, in the shape of an appeal to the nation for the justice 
 denied her by the Court. It was prepared by Spencer 
 Percival, afterwards Premier, who was assisted by a member 
 of Parliament, and printed by Edwards, of Crane Court, 
 Fleet Street. The most profound secrecy was observed 
 regarding it. Five thousand copies ol the work were got 
 ready for circulation, but at the last moment were not dis- 
 tributed, owing to the fact that the existing Ministry, which 
 was hostile to the Princess, was turned out of office, and was 
 duly replaced by on ^ the members of which were her friends, 
 Mr. Percival being L'irst Lord of the Treasury and Chancel- 
 lor of the Exchequer. A few copies of this appeal, known 
 as ' The Book,' which escaped being delivered to Mr. Perci- 
 val, were subsequently purchased by Government for the 
 respective and respectable sums of ^1,500, ^1,000, ^750, 
 
 21 a
 
 324 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 and j$oo> The new Cabinet quickly informed the King 
 that, in its opinion, it was ' essentially necessary, in justice to 
 Her Royal Highness, that she should be admitted with as 
 little delay as possible to His Majesty's presence, and that 
 she should be received in a manner due to her rank and 
 station in His Majesty's Court and family.' Nor was this 
 all : His Majesty's confidential servants thought it due to 
 her to request that some apartments might be allotted to 
 her in one of the royal residences for her more convenient 
 attendance at Court ; she was therefore allowed the use of 
 rooms at Kensington Palace. 
 
 That strong sympathy with those unjustly persecuted 
 which is ever to be found in English breasts was now 
 thoroughly roused throughout the nation in favour of the 
 Princess, and the formal acknowledgment of her acquittal 
 was hailed with universal rejoicing. The Prince, already 
 feared and disliked, now became despised and detested ; 
 satires the most bitter and malicious, charging him with 
 heinous crimes, were freely levelled at him and his friends ; 
 whilst ballads in favour of his deserted wife were sung in the 
 streets generally, and in front of Carlton House particularly. 
 Her portraits were exhibited in the shop-windows ; her 
 appearance in public was the signal for loud and continued 
 cheering, and even at her first attendance, after her trial, at 
 the royal drawing-room, she was greeted by the courtiers with 
 clapping of hands. The Queen and Princesses received her 
 on this occasion with marked coldness, satisfying themselves 
 with curtseying to her in a frigid, ceremonious manner, but 
 the King was as friendly as usual. When his birthday was 
 celebrated in the following month, she again went to Court, 
 where by some accident she encountered her husband face 
 to face before a vast and brilliant crowd. The scene was 
 dramatic ; the courtiers respectfully drew back, leaving these 
 two figures alone and prominent in the great drawing-room 
 of St James's, in the presence of royalty ; for a second the
 
 NEVER AGAIN TO MEET. 325 
 
 Prince hesitated, then made a cold, stately bow, which she 
 gracefully returned, after which they exchanged a few words 
 which could not be overheard, and passed on, never again 
 to meet in this world. 
 
 A few months after this occurrence, the Princess's mother, 
 the Duchess of Brunswick, whose husband had recently died 
 from wounds received at the battle of Jena, sought a refuge 
 in England, as the forces of Napoleon then occupied Bruns- 
 wick ; she was accordingly welcomed by His Majesty with 
 some show of affection, and permitted to take up her residence 
 with her daughter at Blackheath. The private life of the 
 Princess, which had before been considered indiscreet, now 
 became almost reckless ; moods of wretchedness and de- 
 pression were succeeded by a frivolity and daring that was 
 censured by her enemies and regretted by her friends. At 
 her residence at Blackheath, or at her rooms at Kensington 
 Palace, she still continued to give dinners and suppers, 
 where little ceremony was observed, and where oftentimes 
 discretion and modesty were trenched upon in favour of sar- 
 casm and wit These entertainments commenced late, and 
 usually lasted till dawn, the hostess being reluctant to rise from 
 the table when surrounded by agreeable society. Amongst 
 her friends were ' Monk ' Lewis, Campbell, Walter Scott, the 
 eccentric Lady Caroline Lamb, who followed in the wake 
 of Lord Byron, Viscount Melbourne, a man addicted to 
 pleasure, Lady Oxford, and Mr. Ward, afterwards known as 
 Lord Dudley, and always regarded as a madman. 
 
 When Thomas Campbell the poet, described as being 
 ' excellent company when allowed to soar in his own sphere, 
 but totally unfit for the world, and ignorant of its ways as a 
 child,' was introduced to the Princess, he by no means 
 delighted her by reciting verses for which she did not care, 
 but, on a subsequent occasion, he pleased her much better 
 by dancing a Highland reel with her in her drawing-room. 
 Another child of the Muses who was introduced to her was
 
 326 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 Lord Byron, then the most remarkable man in society. An 
 acquaintance followed, and the Princess on one occasion 
 told the poet there were two Lord Byrons, one known to 
 the world at large, and another, the real Lord Byron, known 
 to her. 
 
 ' When I invite him,' she said, ' I say I ask the agreeable 
 lord, not the disagreeable one. He takes my plaisanterie all 
 in good part, and I flatter myself I am rather a favourite 
 with this great bard.' How the poet celebrated her hus- 
 band's traits all generations shall read. 
 
 When the royal refugees, Louis XVIII., Madame d'Angou- 
 leme, and the French Princes, sought safety in England, the 
 Princess invited them to a breakfast, to which her mother 
 and the Princess Sophia were likewise bidden; but, at a 
 hint from the Prince of Wales, Louis XVIII. and Madame 
 d'Angouleme suddenly found themselves suffering ; the one 
 from gout in the knee and toe, the other from a swelled face, 
 and so painful were these ailments on the morning fixed for 
 the breakfast, that they were quite unable to accept the 
 Princess's hospitality. 
 
 ' So that,' she writes, ' I have not been blest with a sight 
 of these charming creatures. Still, I was reduced to the 
 satisfaction of having forty, including my own family, to this 
 great feast. The sight was not enchanting, as it was loaded 
 with old fograms. My usual resource on this occasion is to 
 show them the great apartments and the rarities they contain. 
 At last (everything, alas ! ends) we were obliged to take to 
 another resource, which was walking in the great avenue ; 
 and there we walked with all the plebeians and all the mobs. 
 As our conviviality was exhausted, as well as our wit, the 
 military band supplied the sound of our voices. We lounged 
 there till, happily, the clock struck eight, and the party was 
 swept away like magic. 1 
 
 Her desire of dispensing with all ceremony was occasion- 
 ally carried too far, as may be judged from the fact that,
 
 THE PRINCESS'S INDISCRETION. 327 
 
 when she was one day about to visit the British Museum, 
 and three of her gentlemen, Mercer, Craven, and Sir 
 William Cell stood waiting to attend her, ' Now,' she said, 
 turning to them, ' toss up a guinea' to know which shall be 
 the happy man to come with me.' Alas ! these gentlemen 
 three had not a guinea between them, and she was forced to 
 name which should go with her. 
 
 But perhaps her greatest indiscretion was in speaking of 
 her husband in unguarded terms, being surrounded by those 
 whom he had placed in her service, who carried all her 
 words back to him. One of Lord Minto's correspondents 
 writes to him that the Princess came into the drawing-room 
 with a book in her hand, crying, ' Here, my dear, read, 
 read ; tell Lord Minto directly that I am in love with his 
 friend Mr. Burke. He has drawn the Prince's character 
 exactly, exactly ; read it, read it " A man without any sense 
 of duty as a prince, without any regard to the dignity of his 
 crown, and without any love to his people ; dissolute, false, 
 venal, and destitute of any positive good quality whatever, 
 except a pleasant temper and the manners of a gentleman." 
 Ask Lord Minto if it is not quite like him.' At one of her 
 dinners she spoke to those around her of her unhappy 
 marriage. ' I, you know, was the victim of mammon,' she 
 said ; ' the Prince of Wales's debts must be paid, and poor 
 little I's person was the pretence. Parliament would vote 
 supplies for the heir-apparent's marriage; the King would 
 help his little help. A Protestant Princess must be found 
 they fixed upon the Prince's cousin. To tell you God's 
 truth, I always hated it ; but to oblige my father, anything. 
 But the first moment I saw my futur and Lady Jersey 
 together I knew how it all was, and I said to myself, " Oh ! 
 very well." I took my parti and so it would have been 
 .f but oh ! mine God, I could be the slave of a man I 
 love, but to one whom I loved not, and did not love me 
 impossible fesi autre chose.'
 
 328 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 On another occasion she favoured a friend of hers with 
 some particulars regarding her wedding-night. 
 
 ' After the play,' writes the author of ' The Memoirs of 
 the Times of George IV.,' ' I was invited to sup with Her 
 Royal Highness ; as usual, she talked of her own situation 
 and her previous life. " Judge," said she, " what it was to 
 have a drunken husband on one's wedding-day, and one 
 who passed the greatest part of his bridal-night under the 
 grate, where he fell, and where I left him. If anybody said 
 to me at dis moment, Will you pass your life over again, or 
 be killed ? I would choose death, for, you know, a little 
 sooner or later, we must all die; but to live a life of 
 wretchedness twice over oh, mine God, no !" ' The same 
 authority tells of a strange practice of the Princess's. 'After 
 dinner, Her Royal Highness made a wax figure as usual, 
 and gave it an amiable addition of large horns ; then took 
 three pins out of her garment, and stuck them through and 
 through, and put the figure to roast and melt at the fire. If 
 it was not too melancholy to have to do with this, I could 
 have died with laughing. The Princess indulges in this 
 amusement whenever there are no strangers at table, and 
 she has a superstitious belief that destrdying this effigy of 
 her husband will bring to pass the destruction of his royal 
 person.' 
 
 Her mother, the Duchess of Brunswick, set down these 
 traits to the same malady which affected the King ; she 
 deplored them to Lord Redesdale, and, tapping her fore- 
 head, said, ' But her excuse is, poor thing, that she is not 
 right here.' 
 
 In the meantime, the Princess was made aware of her 
 husband's new intrigue with the Marchioness of Hertford ; 
 a Venus who, though advanced in years, had not virtue or 
 wisdom sufficient to repel the royal profligate. She had, 
 indeed, at first refused his suit, but opposition had served 
 to increase his passion ; and, in order to render himself
 
 ANOTHER FAIR WOMAN. 329 
 
 interesting in her eyes, and show her how his rejected love 
 preyed upon his heart, he strove to reduce his rotund 
 person, and tone down his rubicund complexion by having 
 himself bled for her sweet sake. This was not an infrequent 
 practice of his ; and, according to Lord Holland, he had 
 himself operated on several times by various doctors, when 
 'there was so little necessity for it, that different surgeons 
 were introduced for the purpose, unknown to each other, 
 lest they should object to so unusual a loss of blood.' About 
 this time he had just broken off a connection with the 
 charming Lady Massarene, the daughter of a French gaoler, 
 who became the wife of an Irish peer ; and, though His 
 Royal Highness's passion for her was brief, her love for him 
 lasted till her death. 
 
 In a connection which, about this time, he strove to 
 establish with another fair woman, the Regent was not 
 attended by that usual success which almost invariably 
 attended him. This new lady who found favour in the 
 royal eyes was Lady Yarmouth, then young and beautiful. 
 The Prince had long sighed for her love, but sighed in vain. 
 It happened that one day, when the first gentleman in 
 Europe had partaken of Lord Yarmouth's hospitality, and 
 the party had broken up, the Prince contrived to lure 
 Lady Yarmouth into an ante-room, where, taking advantage 
 of the opportunity he had long sought, he told her of his 
 passion, and proceeded to kiss her, on which her ladyship 
 was so uncourtly as to scream, a proceeding on her part 
 which quickly brought her husband on the scene, who, in a 
 paroxysm of passion, struck the Prince, and inflicted several 
 injuries on the royal person, some of which caused much 
 subsequent discoloration in the vicinity of his eyes. This 
 treatment caused him for several days to seek the retirement 
 of Carlton House, it being intimated to the public that he 
 suffered from a severe sprain. By degrees, however, the 
 story crept out, and was whispered through the town, hinted
 
 330 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 at in the press, until finally Peter Pindar celebrated it in 
 verse, under the title of 'A Kick from Yarmouth to Wales;' 
 a publication which ran through several editions, and gained 
 enormous popularity. 
 
 The time had now arrived when the Princess of Wales 
 was permanently to lose her chief friend and protector the 
 King, who, already stricken by blindness, afflicted by the 
 conduct of his eldest son, agitated by political events, and 
 sorely grieved by the death of his favourite daughter, the 
 Princess Amelia, was again deprived of his reason, a condi- 
 tion from which he never wholly recovered. His last ap- 
 pearance in society was on the anniversary of his accession, 
 when the Queen assembled all her children but two at 
 Windsor Castle. The King, looking haggard, old, and 
 helpless from loss of sight, came into the drawing-room 
 leaning on the Queen, when he went round, speaking to all 
 who were present ; but in that excited and flurried manner 
 which usually preceded his attacks of madness. This was 
 in the latter part of the year 1810, and in the early months 
 of the new year his mind became gradually worse ; at times 
 he had the power of calmly conversing on various subjects, 
 but was beset with certain hallucinations, some of which 
 were painful to those around him. One of these was that 
 his daughter just dead 'his poor Amelia' was living at Han- 
 over, and was not only perfectly well, but was in the enjoyment 
 of everlasting health and youth ; another was that he had 
 an intrigue with the Countess of Pembroke, a lady of spot- 
 less reputation, who, in her youth, and in the first years of 
 his reign, had been one of the chief ornaments of the 
 Court ; occasionally, he protested that she was his wife, and 
 was wrathful that he was not permitted to see her. Once 
 he said to the Duke of Sussex : 
 
 1 Is it not a strange thing, Adolphus, that they still refuse 
 to let me go to Lady Pembroke, although everyone knows I 
 am married to her ; but, what is worse of all, is that infamous
 
 FIRST YEAR OF THE REGENCY. 331 
 
 scoundrel Halford was by at the marriage, and has now the 
 effrontery to deny it to my face.' 
 
 On the declaration of the physicians that His Majesty 
 was unfit to transact any business of the State, a Regency 
 Bill was once more introduced, constituting the Prince of 
 Wales Regent, under certain restrictions, which were to be 
 removed at the end of the year, in case the King did not 
 recover ; these were that he was unable to grant peerages, 
 except for naval or military services, or award pensions or 
 places for life. The charge of the King and his household 
 were naturally given to the Queen, at which, as the latter 
 conferred considerable political influence on those who pos- 
 sessed it, the Prince was wroth indeed. He expected, he 
 said, to be treated as a gentleman, not as a ruffian, and 
 considered this power given to Her Majesty as a direct 
 insult to himself; an opinion in which his royal brothers of 
 course agreed, and they protested against such a privilege 
 being given to their mother, to the disgust, but not the 
 surprise, of the nation. 
 
 During the first year of the Regency, the King's state 
 continued changeable ; for days his mind wandered hope- 
 lessly, and again he was so well that it was anticipated he 
 would resume the reins of Government before the twelve 
 months had expired. He was so well, indeed, in May, that 
 he was allowed to ride out. 
 
 Towards the end of the month his affliction returned, and 
 by the close of the year all hopes of his ultimate recovery 
 were abandoned, and the Prince of Wales was allowed the 
 full powers of a King. 
 
 'No Prince,' says Lord Brougham, 'ever ascended the 
 throne with so universal a feeling of distrust and even aver- 
 sion.' On his way to open Parliament in lull state, he 
 seemed nervous and anxious, and was received with dead 
 silence by the crowd which had collected to see the pro- 
 cession ; not a hat was taken off, not a cheer greeted him, a
 
 332 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 circumstance which caused bitter disappointment to one 
 so fond of public approbation. But his displeasure was 
 heightened presently by the behaviour of his daughter, the 
 Princess Charlotte, who, with two of the Royal Princesses, 
 was present in the House of Lords, sitting on the woolsack, 
 near the throne, from which position she spoke to one Peer 
 and nodded to another, both of whom befriended her 
 mother's cause. 
 
 ' It was remarked,' said Lady Charlotte Campbell, 'that 
 she talked and laughed much, turned her back upon her 
 papa, and had a certain expressive smile which did not dis- 
 please all the Lords nor all the Ladies there. The Prince, 
 it is^said, was much displeased at her manner.' 
 
 His unpopularity by no means diminished with time, as 
 may be judged by a letter written by Fremantle to the 
 Marquis of Buckingham in the following year. Speaking 
 of the Regent, he says : 
 
 ' When he came to the drawing-room on Thursday, he 
 was in his stage-coach, with all the parade of royalty and 
 grandeur, and there were upwards of ten thousand people 
 in Pall Mall, through which he passed, and where he was 
 met by not one single token of applause. It was a dead 
 silence throughout . . . After declaring publicly, right and 
 left, his intention of going to the Lord Mayor, his nerves 
 failed him, and he sent an excuse. I am confident he 
 would have been hissed through the City. The addresses 
 on the assumption of the Regency have failed throughout 
 England, and there is hardly a quarter in which the attempt 
 has not been made to procure them.' 
 
 Since the last outbreak of the King's madness, great 
 restrictions were placed on the intercourse between the 
 Princess and her daughter ; they met but once a week, but 
 were never allowed to see each other unless in the presence 
 of a third person ; even this weekly meeting was, after awhile, 
 prevented by the Princess Charlotte's removal to Windsor on
 
 ' OH, CERTAINLY, YOUR MAJESTY' 333 
 
 a visit to her royal grandmother. Her continued absence 
 at last became almost unendurable to the Princess of 
 Wales, who, whatever her faults may have been, loved 
 her daughter ; she therefore wrote to the Queen, beseeching 
 her to grant her permission to see her child, offering to visit 
 her at Windsor, if she could not attend on her ; to which 
 petition Her Gracious Majesty sent back word that Her 
 Royal Highness's studies must not be interrupted. 
 
 But, time going by, and their meeting being still pre- 
 vented, the Princess, fearing a total separation was intended, 
 went to Windsor, selecting Sunday for her visit, as a day on 
 which no excuse for the interruption of studies could be 
 made. When she reached the castle she was cruelly refused 
 permission to see her daughter, on which she requested an 
 interview with the Queen, in order, if possible, to move her 
 to her desires ; but, though Her Majesty granted the inter- 
 view, she refused the Princess's request. The Prince Regent 
 had given strict orders, Her Majesty said, not to allow a 
 meeting between the Princess of Wales and her daughter. 
 The Queen's manners were as ceremonious and cold as ever, 
 and no refreshments were offered to the royal visitor. 
 
 At parting, Her Majesty said, as she helped herself to a 
 liberal pinch of snuff, ' I hope you will always preserve the 
 same friendship which you have ever felt for me ;' to which 
 the Pjfincess, bowing to the little old woman with profound 
 reverence, answered in most bitter irony, ' Oh, certainly, 
 your Majesty ;' and then left the room, almost choked with 
 tears. After this interview, she received an insulting message 
 from one of the Ministers of State, informing her the Prince 
 Regent forbade her going to Windsor again. 
 
 Soon after this, however, an unexpected meeting took place 
 between the unhappy mother and her daughter. It chanced 
 that, as the Princess of Wales was out driving one day, she 
 saw her daughter's carriage being driven in another direction ; 
 she immediately gave orders to her coachman to follow it,
 
 334 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 when something like a pursuit took place, but the young 
 Princess's coach, which had entered Hyde Park, was 
 ultimately overtaken near the Serpentine, and both leaned 
 forward from their respective carriages to kiss, and hold some 
 minutes' conversation, being surrounded meanwhile by a 
 crowd of eager sympathizers. About this time, another 
 occurrence took place which caused considerable annoyance 
 to the royal grandmother and the Regent. 
 
 The Princess Charlotte had now arrived at an age when 
 it was considered desirable she should be formally presented 
 at Court ; arrangements were therefore made for the event, 
 and a day fixed on ; it was also arranged by the Regent that 
 his daughter's presentation should be made by the Duchess 
 of York, or some other of the female branches of the royal 
 family, but the young Princess stoutly declared she would 
 be presented by her mother, and by her mother alone. Her 
 illustrious father had by this time come to learn that she had 
 a will of her own, and the matter was allowed to rest. 
 Accordingly, the appointed day having arrived, the Princess 
 of Wales and her daughter were dressed and ready for the 
 ceremony, and were about to set out for St. James's, when, 
 at the last moment, a message was sent from the Regent to 
 his daughter, informing her a presentation by her mother 
 would not be allowed. 
 
 ' It shall either be my mother or no one,' she spiritedly 
 replied. 
 
 The result was that her presentation did not take place. 
 
 The restrictions now placed between them became so 
 severe, and so grievous to both, that the Princess of Wales, 
 acting on legal advice, determined to bring her painful situa- 
 tion before Parliament. Before doing so, however, she 
 addressed a touching letter to her husband, in which she 
 said she was at length compelled either to abandon all 
 regard fpr the two dearest objects she had on earth, her 
 honour and her child, or to throw herself at his feet, who
 
 A GREAT SENSATION. 335 
 
 should be the natural protector of both. ' She represented 
 that the separation between herself and her daughter could 
 only admit of one construction in the eyes of the world, and 
 that was one fatal to her own reputation. She implored him 
 to reflect on the situation in which she was placed, without 
 the shadow of a charge against her, yet treated, she adds, 
 'as if I were still more culpable than the perjuries of my 
 suborned traducers represented me, and held up to the world 
 as a mother who may not enjoy the society of her own child.' 
 
 This letter was forwarded to the Regent under the care of 
 Lords Eldon and Liverpool, but next day was returned 
 unopened ; again the Princess had it forwarded, intimating 
 to these noble Lords that, as it contained matter of impor- 
 tance to the State, she relied on their laying it before His 
 Royal Highness ; next day, however, it was again sent back 
 unopened. 
 
 A third time she forwarded it, expressing her confidence 
 that Lords Eldon and Liverpool would not take upon them- 
 selves the responsibility of not communicating the letter to 
 the Prince, and that she should be the only subject in his 
 empire whose petition was not to be permitted to reach the 
 Throne. To this an answer was made, that the contents of 
 her communication had been laid before the Regent, who 
 had no answer to make : upon which she sent her letter to 
 the Morning Chronicle for publication, from which journal it 
 was copied into almost every newspaper of the day. The 
 immediate sensation it produced throughout the nation can 
 scarcely be conceived ; the Prince's rage was so great that for 
 a time it almost deprived him of reason ; whilst the sympathy 
 it evoked from men and women of all classes for the unhappy 
 mother was mingled with the fiercest indignation against 
 her persecutor. 
 
 A Privy Council was hastily called together, and of course 
 gave expression to the Regent's wishes ; the Lords, who by 
 the way included two Archbishops, in this Council assembled,
 
 336 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS, 
 
 declared that, having read the Princess's letter, and having 
 also examined the documents regarding her accusation by 
 Lady Douglas, they were of opinion the intercourse between 
 Her Royal Highness and her daughter should continue to be 
 subject to restrictions and regulations. This was but a fresh 
 stab at her reputation, but it was met in a manner little 
 anticipated; the Princess bravely appealed to the nation 
 through Parliament, protesting her innocence, condemning 
 a system that dared to pronounce her guilty, without letting 
 her know on what evidence their verdict was founded, and 
 finally requesting Parliament to enter into a full and strict 
 investigation of the Douglas charges, which would again 
 prove her blameless. A letter to the same purport was sent 
 to the Lord Chancellor, that it might be read in the House 
 of Lords, which Lord Eldon returned to her, advising her 
 for her own safety not to make it public ; to which she re- 
 plied he need have no apprehension for her, as the British 
 constitution, and the laws of England, were her safeguard. 
 Her letter to the Commons was the cause of more than one 
 warm debate. One member, Mr. Whitebread, called atten- 
 tion to the fact, that though the witnesses who bore evidence 
 against the Princess were ' perjured and blasted,' yet Sir 
 John Douglas was then in the service of one 01 the royal 
 family. Lord Castlereagh stated that the Government had 
 not prosecuted Sir John and Lady Douglas for perjury, 
 because unwilling to place many indelicate accusations 
 before the world; a statement which was received with 
 sceptical and derisive laughter. Another member, Mr. 
 Wortley, said that he had as high feelings for royalty as 
 any man, but proceedings like this contributed to pull them 
 down. He was sorry that the royal family did not take 
 warning in time from what was thought and said concer.iing 
 them, and that it seemed they were ' the only persons in 
 the country who were wholly regardless of their welfare and 
 sespectability.' The Princess of Wales was doubtlessly ill-
 
 MR. WORTLEY'S SPEECH. 337 
 
 used, and he would not have the Regent lay the flattering 
 unction to his soul, and think his conduct would bear him 
 harmless through all these transactions. This speech was 
 received with much applause ; but after some wrangling, 
 and much bitterness on both sides, the subject was allowed 
 to drop. 
 
 The famous publication known as 'The Book,' which 
 contained the whole statements of the Douglas investigation, 
 copies of which had been bought up at vast prices, was now 
 republished and openly sold ; this added fresh strength to 
 the popular indignation against the Regent and his friends. 
 Every mark of public sympathy continued to be shown to the 
 Princess ; addresses were poured in on her from numerous 
 public bodies, congratulating her on ' having escaped a con- 
 spiracy against her life and honour,' in which the city of 
 London took the lead, the borough of Southwark, and the 
 city of Westminster, the county of Middlesex, the towns of 
 Bath, Bristol, Rochester, Sheffield, Berwick-on-Tweed, and 
 Dublin following suit: When the address was carried by 
 the Common Council, one of its members, Sir William 
 Curtis, said publicly that the Princess ' had been grossly, 
 infamously, and abominably treated her innocence was 
 undoubted, her persecution had been shameful ;' not satisfied 
 with this honest assertion, he, after the Princess's answer to 
 the address, took that opportunity to state that he believed 
 her Royal Highness ' had been traduced most wickedly and 
 most abominably.' 
 
 The mob, of course, took up the injured woman's cause, 
 and demonstrated its feelings in its own way. .This took 
 the shape of an effigy dressed in white, supposed to represent 
 Lady Douglas, which held in its hand a parasol, on which 
 were written, in letters so large that those who ran might 
 read, the words Conspiracy and Perjury, whilst on her back 
 was the inscription, Diabolical Perjury. This effigy, attended 
 by an indescribably vast concourse of people, was exhibited 
 
 ** 22
 
 338 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 in front of Carlton House, that His Royal Highness might 
 have the benefit of the sight, and after being carried through 
 the town, preceded by a bell-ringer announcing the execution 
 at the stake of a certain lady at eight o'clock in the evening 
 at Blackheath, the effigy was burnt amidst tumultuous shouts 
 and great signs of rejoicing.
 
 KING GEORGE IV.
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 The Reign of the Regent A Levee at Carlton House Diffi- 
 culties of his Ministers Visit of the Foreign Sovereigns 
 to London The Princess and the Emperor of Russia At 
 the Opera The Prince of Orange and the Princess Char- 
 lotte Anxiety of the Regent to get her out of the Kingdom 
 The Grand Duchess of Oldenburg's Opinion of the 
 Regent The Princess becomes Rebellious She breaks off 
 her Marriage Wrath of the Regent The Princess's 
 Flight A Royal Captive. 
 
 WHEN time confirmed the opinion of the physicians regard- 
 ing His Majesty, and his recovery became utterly hopeless, 
 the Regent, holding the full powers of State, was regarded 
 as a King in all but name, whose favour was steadily courted, 
 and whose displeasure was regarded as the greatest misfor- 
 tune. In order, therefore, that the zealous courtiers might 
 gain the one and avoid the other, they gradually fell off in 
 their attendance on the Princess, who at last found herself 
 reduced to the society 01 a few faithful friends Meanwhile 
 the Prince gave entertainments, famed for their costly mag- 
 nificence and brilliancy, which were found far more accept- 
 able than the dinners or suppers at Blackheath and Kensing- 
 ton Palace. 
 
 Richard Bush, a minister of the United States, gives an 
 account of a levee which somewhat astonished his Republi- 
 can soul. His conveyance having slowly steered its way 
 through an immense crush of coaches and vehicles, he at 
 length gained the great hall of Carlton House, which was 
 
 22 a
 
 340 COURT LIFE BELOW STAfRS. 
 
 lined with the Yeomen of the Guard, having velvet hats 
 adorned with wreaths upon their heads, halberds in their 
 hands, and rosettes ornamenting their shoes . a great stream 
 of courtiers, in handsome and many-coloured costumes, was 
 pushing its way through the spacious apartments, whilst from 
 beyond the open columns of the portico came the mellifluent 
 music of bands. In one of the rooms, awaiting the royal 
 presence, were the Cabinet Ministers, with bags and swords, 
 the diplomatic corps, the Lord Steward with his badge of 
 office; the Lord Chamberlain with his; the Lord Chancellor 
 in his black silk gown and wig ; the Bishops and Church 
 dignitaries, with whom the tainted atmosphere of Carlton 
 House by no means disagreed, likewise in wigs ; the ambassa- 
 dors in their national costumes, and many Knights of the 
 Garter. When, presently, the Regent came from his closet, 
 doors hitherto shut were thrown wide open, and revealed a 
 vast assembly of brilliant courtiers, who had come to pay 
 their homage at the shrine of royalty, all of whom were 
 honoured by a word, look, or smile from the Prince. 
 
 The Regent was never better pleased than when he was 
 the observed of all observers, holding drawing-rooms, giving 
 fetes, or presiding at some gorgeous ceremonial ; so far as the 
 business of the State was concerned, he was utterly useless, 
 as his conduct frequently perplexed and occasionally dis 
 gusted his Ministers. An example of this was given during 
 the first year of his Regency. 
 
 At a dance given at Oatlands Park, whilst skipping about 
 in a Highland fling, the Prince wrenched his ankle. 'This 
 took place,' says a correspondent of the Duke of Bucking- 
 ham's, ' ten days ago, since which he has never been out of 
 his bed. He complained of violent pain and spasmodic 
 affection, for which he prescribed for himself, and took a 
 hundred drops of laudanum every three hours. When Far- 
 quhar and the other medical men came down, they saw him 
 under the influence of this laudanum, so enervated and hurt
 
 IMPOSSIBLE TO RECEIVE HER. 341 
 
 that they immediately prescribed the strongest dose of castor- 
 oil ; but he still perseveres in his laudanum, which he says 
 relieves him from pain, and lays constantly on his stomach 
 in bed. He will sign nothing, and converse with no one on 
 business, and you may imagine, therefore, the distress and 
 difficulty in which the Ministers are placed. The Duke of 
 Cumberland is going about saying it is all a sham, and 
 that he could get up and would be perfectly well if he 
 pleased.' 
 
 In June, 1814, the Emperor of Russia and the King of 
 Prussia, with his brother, his sons, and various minor Princes, 
 visited London ; when the Regent had another opportunity 
 of giving some of those gorgeous fetes which delighted 
 his royal soul. On this occasion it had been announced 
 that Her Majesty would hold two drawing-rooms in honour 
 of her illustrious guests, at which the young Princess Char- 
 lotte would be presented ; the reason for holding two draw- 
 ing-rooms, it was freely whispered, was in order to allow the 
 Princess to appear at one when her husband would not be 
 present, he in turn attending the other when she would not 
 be there. The Princess, accordingly, in great glee, prepared 
 for the occasion, but her hopes and intentions were destined 
 to meet with bitter disappointment once more, when she re- 
 ceived a message from Her Gracious Majesty that it was 
 impossible to receive her, as she had a communication from 
 the Regent, in which he declared he considered his own 
 presence at Court on both occasions indispensable, and 'his 
 fixed and unalterable determination not to meet the Princess 
 of Wales upon any occasion, either public or private.' To 
 this cruel treatment, intended by her husband to not only 
 humiliate her in the eyes of the nation, but in those of the 
 illustrious sovereigns about to visit England, she was deter- 
 mined not to submit. She, therefore, decided on going 
 ooldly forward to claim the right of appearing at the draw- 
 ing-room due to her station, but was unfortunately dissuaded
 
 343 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 from this resolution by one of her most zealous friends and 
 advisers, Mr. Whitebread. At his suggestion, she wrote to 
 the Queen in a submissive tone, asking the cause of this 
 fresh slight put upon her. When another of her friends, 
 Creevey, heard of this counsel of Whitebread's, he said to 
 him, 'You have cut her throat.' Mr., afterward Lord 
 Brougham, was also of opinion that his advice was wrong ; 
 but it was now too late to retrieve the step already taken, 
 and the only thing left for her was to pen a letter to the 
 Regent He might refuse to read it, she said, but the world 
 would know she had written it ; she had been declared inno- 
 cent, and now she would not submit to be declared guilty. 
 ' Of all His Majesty's subjects,' she concluded, ' I alone am 
 prevented by your Royal Highness from appearing in my 
 place, to partake of the general joy ; and am deprived of the 
 indulgence in those feelings of pride and affection permitted 
 to every mother but me.' 
 
 But this was not the only insult which this occasion was 
 to bring her ; before his arrival in England, the Emperor of 
 Russia received a message from the Regent, formally de- 
 livered by Sir Thomas Tyrwhitt, requesting His Majesty to 
 take no notice of the Princess of Wales. When their 
 Majesties arrived in town, she despatched her Chamberlain 
 to bid them welcome to England, a compliment which they 
 acknowledged by sending their respective Chamberlains to 
 wait on her. The King of Prussia in whose cause her 
 father had fought, and her brother lost his life sent her his 
 regards, but avowing that, under the circumstances, he 
 dared not come himself; this line of conduct was followed 
 by all the foreign Princes who arrived, and even by a nephew 
 of hers, a ' little vile Prince of Wurtemburg.' 
 
 Yet her anxiety that His Imperial Majesty of Russia, 
 whom Napoleon in the day of his power was wont to style a 
 petit maitre, would visit her was painful. ' My ears are very 
 ugly,' she said, striving to laugh, whilst yet the tears stood in
 
 SHE WOULD GIVE HER EARS. 343 
 
 her eyes, 'but I would give them both to persuade the 
 Emperor to come to me to a ball, a supper, or any enter- 
 tainment that he would choose.' She waited and hoped 
 until her patience was almost exhausted and her hopes dead, 
 but the great man never came. On one occasion she received 
 a private message from a friend that the Emperor intended 
 visiting her, when in great delight she dressed for the occa- 
 sion and sat patiently with her ladies for four hours expect- 
 ing him every minute ; but, alas ! was again doomed to 
 disappointment. Another day her daughter sent her word 
 secretly that it was positively the Emperor's intention to visit 
 her, and that he had already sent to intimate his intentions 
 of so doing to the Regent, who had not since then spoken 
 to him. Again her hopes were in the ascendant, and no 
 doubt she would have had the honour she so desired, but 
 that, as the Emperor was about leaving his apartments to call 
 on her, one of the Regent's Ministers arrived, and besought 
 him in so forcible a manner not to put his intentions into 
 execution, that His Imperial Majesty yielded to his entreaties. 
 Still the Princess was destined to see their Majesties before 
 they left England, if not to meet them. 
 
 Lady Charlotte Campbell's graphic pen describes the occa- 
 sion. After dinner ' there came a note from Mr. White- 
 bread, advising at what hour she should go to the opera, and 
 telling her that the Emperor was to be at eleven o'clock at 
 the Institution, which was to be lighted up for him to see the 
 pictures. All this advice tormented the Princess, and I do 
 not wonder that she sometimes loses patience. No child 
 was ever more thwarted and controlled than she is and yet 
 she often contrives to do herself mischief in spite of all the 
 care that is taken of her. When we arrived at the opera, to 
 the Princess's and all her attendants' infinite surprise, we saw 
 the Regent placed between the Emperor and the King of 
 Prussia, and all the minor Princes in a box to the right. 
 " God save the King " was performing when the Princess
 
 344 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 entered, and consequently she did not sit down. I was 
 behind, so of course I could not see the house very dis- 
 tinctly, but I saw the Regent was at that time standing and 
 applauding the Grassinis. As soon as the air was over the 
 whole pit turned round to the Princess's box and applauded 
 her. We who were in attendance on Her Royal Highness 
 entreated her to rise and make a curtsey, but she sat im- 
 movable, and at last, turning round, she said : 
 
 ' " My dear, Punch's wife is nobody when Punch is pre- 
 sent" 
 
 ' We all laughed, but still thought her wrong not to acknow- 
 ledge the compliment paid her ; but she was right, as the 
 sequel will prove. 
 
 ' " We shall be hissed," said Sir William Cell. 
 
 ' " No, no," again replied the Princess, with infinite 
 good-humour. " I know my business better than to take 
 the morsel out of my husband's mouth ; I am not to seem 
 to know that the applause is meant for me until they call my 
 name." 
 
 ' The Prince seemed to verify her words, for he got up 
 and bowed to the audience. This was construed into a bow 
 to the Princess, most unfortunately; I say most unfortu- 
 nately, because she has been blamed for not returning it ; 
 but I, who was a witness to the circumstance, know the 
 Princess acted just as she ought to have done. The fact 
 was, the Prince took the applause to himself; and his 
 friends, or rather his toadies (for they do not deserve the 
 name of friends), to save him from the imputation of this 
 ridiculous vanity, chose to say that he did the most beau- 
 tiful and elegant thing in the world, and bowed to his 
 wife. 
 
 'When the opera was finished, the Prince and his sup- 
 porters were applauded, but not enthusiastically; and 
 scarcely had His Royal Highness left the box, when the 
 people called for the Princess, and gave her a very warm
 
 PUBLIC DEMONSTRATION. 345 
 
 applause. She then went forward and made three curtseys, 
 and hastily withdrew. I believe she acted perfectly right 
 throughout the evening but everyone tells a different story, 
 and thinks differently. How trivial all this seems, how 
 much beneath the dignity of rational beings ! When the 
 coachman attempted to drive home through Charles Street, 
 the crowd of carriages was so immense it was impossible to 
 pass down that street, and with difficulty the Princess's 
 carriage backed, and we returned past Carlton House, where 
 the mob surrounded her carriage, and having once found 
 out it was her Royal Highness, they applauded and huzzaed 
 until we who were with her were completely stunned. The 
 mob opened the carriage-doors, and some of them insisted 
 on shaking hands with her, and asked if they should burn 
 Carlton House. 
 
 ' " No, my good people," she said ; " be quite quiet let 
 me pass, and go home to your beds." 
 
 'They would not, however, leave off following her carriage 
 for some way, and cried out : 
 
 ' " Long live the Princess of Wales ! long live the inno- 
 cent," etc., etc. 
 
 ' She was pleased at this demonstration of feeling in hei 
 favour, and I never saw her look so well, or behave with so 
 much dignity ; yet I hear all this has been misconstrued and 
 various lies told.' 
 
 A couple of days after this she was sent word by the box- 
 keeper at Covent Garden, that no box could be kept for her 
 at that theatre ; and on the occasion of a common night at 
 Drury Lane, she received word to the same effect from the 
 manager of that play-house, both gentlemen having of course 
 received instructions to this effect from the Court. All these 
 indignities, petty and galling, inflicted by the first gentleman 
 in Europe on his wife, received public comment, and were 
 bitterly resented by the mob. As he drove through the 
 streets, accompanied by his illustrious visitors, he was hissed,
 
 346 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 hooted, and groaned at ; and on the occasion of his visit to 
 the great dinner given by the Lord Mayor to the foreign 
 monarchs, the immense crowd which lined the way from 
 Temple Bar to the Guildhall not only groaned and hissed, 
 but shouted out : 
 
 ' Where's your wife ? where's your wife ?' 
 
 At which delicate inquiry the Prince grew livid with rage, 
 and swore a great oath, which, strange to say, he kept, 
 that he would never again honour a civic banquet with his 
 presence. 
 
 The Princess of Wales and her daughter were greeted, 
 whenever they drove abroad, in a far different style ; instead 
 of hisses, they got cheers and words of rough but honest 
 sympathy. To the former was cried out, ' God bless you, 
 we will make the Prince love you before we have done with 
 him,' ' You will soon overcome your enemies ;' and to the 
 latter, ' God bless you, but never forsake your mother.' 
 These tokens of popular esteem used to bring tears into the 
 eyes of the outraged wife, who was now weak and nervous 
 from the long struggle for right and justice which she had 
 had to sustain. 
 
 Amongst the minor Princes who were in London during 
 the visit of His Imperial Majesty and the King of Prussia, 
 were two suitors for the hand of Princess Charlotte. She 
 was at this time in her eighteenth year, and has been 
 described as above the middle height, ' with all the fulness 
 of a person of five-and-twenty, extremely spread for her age, 
 her bosom full but finely shaped, her shoulders large, and 
 her whole person voluptuous ; neither graceful nor elegant, 
 yet having a peculiar air et tons les prestiges de la royaute et 
 du pouvoir? Though she had been presented at Court, she 
 was not permitted to join in any of the festivities that filled 
 the town with the fame of their magnificence, but one, at 
 Carlton House ; as it was the Regent's wish to treat her as 
 a child as long as possible, and keep her out of the sight of
 
 SILLY BILLY.' 347 
 
 the public, who invariably received her with every mark 
 of affection and enthusiasm ; a fact proving such a marked 
 contrast to the feelings with which he was greeted, that his 
 vanity was sorely hurt She had now a residence in town 
 appropriated to her, a dull old building, quiet as a convent, 
 known as Warwick House, which stood opposite Carlton 
 House, from which it was merely divided by a road. It was 
 arranged that she was to live occasionally at Windsor, where 
 her royal dragon of a grandmother still kept watch over 
 her. No life could be more dull than that of the young 
 Princess, who was now seldom permitted to see her mother, 
 forbidden the society of friends of her own age, and continu- 
 ally guarded night and day by the ladies whom the Prince 
 had appointed to her household. At the fete at Carlton 
 House, at which she was permitted to be present, her cousin, 
 the Duke of Gloucester, son of the late Duke who had 
 married the Countess Waldegrave, was bidden. She had, 
 she confessed, ' found him delightful ' ; and the Duke, who 
 was generally known by no other style than ' Silly Billy,' 
 was wise enough to profit by her regard and elevate himself 
 to the rank of a suitor. During the fete he sat down 
 beside her and talked to her, which much displeased the 
 Regent, who was walking up and down the room with Lady 
 Liverpool, whom he at last sent to request the Princess 
 that she would change places with Lady Bathurst, who sat 
 on the other side of her. This the Princess would not do, 
 but, with great spirit, stood up and walked into the next 
 room. 
 
 ' Silly Billy ' was much offended, but the Princess subse- 
 quently apologized, when he confidentially informed her she 
 might consider him devoted to her, and ready to come 
 forward whenever she cast her eyes on him. 
 
 A few days later, it being the Regent's birthday, the 
 Queen presented new colours to the Cadet Battalion, at 
 Sandhurst Military College; when the Princess Charlotte
 
 34? COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 was present, as well as all the royal family, the Bishop of 
 Salisbury, the Ministers and their wives. The Regent did 
 not condescend to speak to, or in any way notice his 
 daughter, giving it as an excuse that ' he could not bear to 
 see those damned ladies ' that accompanied her, meaning 
 the Duchess of Leeds and Miss Knight, who behaved with 
 kindness to the almost friendless Princess. ,' He looked,' 
 says the latter, 'as if he wished to annihilate us.' The 
 royal family dined in the house, the rest of the company 
 under tents in the garden, and in the evening there was a 
 little dance of five or six couples, promoted by the Duke of 
 Clarence. The day had been remarkably hot, and the 
 evening was a beautiful moonlight. When the Queen was 
 about to depart, the Prince Regent was not to be found, 
 and we afterwards learned that he, with the Duke of York, 
 Prince of Orange, and many others, were under the table. 
 The Duke of York hurt his head very seriously against a 
 wine cellaret ; in short, it was a sad business.' 
 
 Shortly before the visit of the foreign sovereigns, the 
 Prince of Orange had arrived in town, and taken lodgings 
 over a tailor's shop ; his visits to Carlton House were 
 frequent, and it soon became whispered that he was a suitor 
 for the hand of the Princess Charlotte. This princeling was a 
 shallow, frivolous young man, ' particularly plain and sickly 
 in his look, his figure very slender, and his manner rather 
 hearty and boyish.' The Regent, partly from political 
 reasons, but principally because he wished to get his 
 daughter out of his way, was highly favourable to the 
 ma^tiage. He had no affection for her, and had long 
 dreaded the stimulus which her public appearance gave to 
 the almost universal sympathy felt for her mother; more- 
 over, he had carefully avoided everything which could look 
 like a recognition of her as heiress presumptive to ihe 
 Crown, hoping that death or divorce might rid him of his 
 wife, and allow him to many again, when he might have a
 
 THE PRINCE OF ORANGE. 349 
 
 son, who would, of course, exclude the succession of the 
 daughter of his abhorred spouse. 
 
 The Queen was likewise anxious to get her out of the 
 country, having a deadly fear of her growing popularity, and 
 had eagerly seconded the Regent in his plans for her seclu- 
 sion, knowing that if the Princess assumed her rightful 
 place, the cold austerity and bomewhat ridiculous etiquette 
 dear to the German heart of Her Majesty must fall into 
 disuse. The Princess's marriage with His Highness of 
 Orange would, it was believed, necessitate her leaving the 
 kingdom, and the Regent therefore resolved that their union 
 should take place ; he had no doubt that she would obey 
 his royal will, and the means he adopted of gaining her con- 
 sent were singularly free from subtlety. She was invited to 
 dine at Carlton House, to meet the man selected as her 
 future husband. 
 
 Previous to the dinner the Regent took them into a room, 
 when they walked up and down together for some time ; 
 after which he drew her aside, and abruptly said, ' Well, it 
 will not do, I suppose ?' to which she answered, ' I do not 
 say that. I like his manner very well, as much as I have 
 seen of it.' The Regent could not conceal his joy at this, 
 and immediately joined their hands together. But the 
 course of their royal love did not run quite so smoothly as 
 the Regent desired : it happened next morning that the 
 Prince of Wales and his son-in-law elect called to visit the 
 Princess at Warwick House, and whilst the Regent was 
 talking to Miss Knight, they suddenly heard Her Royal 
 Highness break into a violent fit of sobs and hysterical 
 tears ; at which the royal parent looked very much frightened, 
 and rushed into the next room to find His Highness of 
 Orange looking much disturbed and his daughter -in great 
 distress. ' What ! is he taking his leave ?' said the Regent, 
 to which she answered with a sigh, ' Not yet.' 
 
 The cause of the disturbance was that the Prince of
 
 350 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 Onnge told her that when they were married she should 
 reside in Holland part of each year, and even, when 
 necessary, follow him to the army ; that he wished her to 
 go to Berlin and travel in Germany, and that she could 
 invite over what friends she liked. He thought it better to 
 tell her all this, and be open and fair ; though the Regent 
 wished him not to mention it. She had not before suspected 
 that this marriage was pushed forward to get rid of her, but 
 now she began to suspect the fact, and to resent it ; and, 
 moreover, to dread the idea of leaving her mother in the 
 critical position in which she was then placed ; however, 
 she then made no effort to break off the intended marriage, 
 and, the Regent considering it as settled, the Prince of 
 Orange left England. , 
 
 The subject was allowed to drop for a few months, during 
 which time the Grand-Duchess of Oldenburg, sister to the 
 Emperor of Russia, arrived in town. This lady was a widow 
 and an intriguante, who carried a certain agreeable Prince 
 Gagarin in her train. She was graciously received by Her 
 Sacred Majesty and the Court, and the Princess Charlotte 
 was charmed with her when they met. In the course of a 
 visit which the young Princess paid her, the Duchess, among 
 other things, complained sorely of ' the assiduities of the 
 Duke of Clarence, of his vulgar familiarity, and of his want 
 of delicacy ;' she also informed the Princess that her father 
 was ' voluptueux* ; and in return Her Royal Highness 
 informed her that many persons had supposed she was to 
 marry the Regent if he could have found cause for a divorce 
 to which the Grand-Duchess replied, that though she would 
 have done anything to oblige her brother the Emperor, now 
 that she had seen the Prince, she could never think of mairy- 
 ing him. ' 
 
 It was supposed that the Duchess was not favourable to 
 the Orange alliance, and that her views concerning it but 
 served to make the Princess more discontented than she
 
 A PRETEXT FOR EXILE. 351 
 
 had yet been with her future lot. Soon a formal petition 
 was sent for her hand from the Sovereign of the Netherlands, 
 on behalf of his son, the Prince of Orange, and a marriage 
 contract was speedily drawn up by the Ministers, at the 
 urgent request of the Regent. If she had before suspected, 
 she was now convinced that her marriage was but a pretext 
 for exiling her. 
 
 ' I have now no manner of doubt,' she wrote to a friend, 
 'that it is decidedly an object and wish of more than one to 
 get rid of me, if possible, in this way. You are far too 
 sensible not to know that this marriage is only de convenance, 
 and that it is as much brought about by force as anything, 
 and by deceit and hurry. I am much more triste at it than 
 I have ever chosen to write can you be surprised? a 
 twenty-four hours' acquaintance, too, really, and where, and 
 how?' 
 
 She had been forbidden to communicate the news to her 
 mother, but she managed to write and tell her, and, when 
 she was allowed to see her, spoke of her personal feelings 
 towards her future husband. According to Lady Charlotte 
 Campbell, she said to her mother that she was determined 
 not to marry him ; that ' his being approved of by the royal 
 family was quite sufficient to make him disapproved of by 
 her ; for that she would marry a man who would be at her 
 devotion, not at theirs,' 
 
 'Marry I will,' she said to the Princess of Wales, 'and 
 that directly, in order to enjoy my liberty; but not the 
 Prince of Orange. I think him so ugly that I am sometimes 
 obliged to turn my head away in disgust when he is speaking 
 to me.' 
 
 ' But, my dear,' replied her mother, ' whoever you marry 
 will become a King, and you will give him a power over 
 you.' 
 
 ' A King ! Pho, pho ! never ! He will only be my first 
 subject never my King.'
 
 352 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 The seclusion and coercion which her father intended 
 should keep her in a childish state, and render her submis- 
 sive to his will, had the unforeseen effect of ripening her 
 faculties, sharpening her observation, and strengthening her 
 self-dependence ; and these qualities now coming to her aid, 
 she declared she would never consent to leave the nation, 
 unless by an Act of Parliament, and that her marriage should 
 be broken off. The Regent was furious at having his desires 
 balked, but was powerless in the face of the country to compel 
 obedience to his wishes. Knowing contradiction would be 
 useless, he resolved to try strategy, and secretly sent for the 
 Prince of Orange, who quickly arrived in England, and duly 
 presented himself at Warwick House, under the feigned 
 name of Captain St. George. The Princess, being unwell, 
 and not yet up, sent one of her ladies to see the unknown 
 captain, and was surprised to find His Highness of Orange. 
 
 After a while, the Princess consented to see him, said she 
 had no complaint to make against him, but that she would not 
 leave the kingdom. She had asked to see the marriage 
 contract, as she had heard it made no provision for a house 
 or settlement for her in England ; which she considered was 
 tantamount to an agreement that she was to reside abroad ; 
 but her request had the effect of sending the Regent into a 
 fresh rage. He declared he had no intention of banishing 
 her from the kingdom, but he, who was so well versed in 
 the duties of wives to their husbands, informed her every 
 woman should follow her husband. * She had no business, 
 he said, to see her contract, but he told her it contained a 
 settlement of ^50,000 on her, that one clause stated her 
 eldest son was to be the future King of England, that he 
 would be taken from her at the age of four, in order that he 
 might be educated in this country, and that her second son 
 should be King of Holland. She determined not to be so 
 easily disposed of, and, after receiving this message quietly, 
 turned to read Burnet regarding the provisions made by the
 
 ONLY ONE' COURT DRESS. 353 
 
 Peers to prevent Queen Mary from being taken out of Eng- 
 land by Philip of Spain, and then addressed a letter to her 
 uncle, the Duke of York, on the subject. He came next 
 day to expostulate with his niece, who declined the honour 
 of seeing His Royal Highness. He then sent her word by 
 one of her ladies that she laboured under a great mistake in 
 considering herself heir-apparent, whereas she could hardly 
 be considered heir-presumptive. 
 
 The Prince of Orange wrote to inform his father of the 
 Princess's determination not to leave the kingdom ; and that 
 wise man, who was loath to let such an alliance slip, agreed 
 to her demands, that she should not leave the country with- 
 out the joint consent of the Regent and herself, which limited 
 her power to go abroad and left her power to remain in 
 England uncontrolled. The Regent in vain endeavoured 
 to prevail on her to retract these stipulations, on the plea of 
 giving offence to the Orange family, but she remained firm. 
 He was then anxious the marriage should take place at once, 
 and the Queen bought the wedding garments; these included 
 but one Court dress, which her economical Majesty con- 
 sidered sufficient, 'as hoop-petticoats were not worn in 
 Holland.' 
 
 About this time the foreign sovereigns visited England, 
 and in their train came a youthful Prince, who was not long 
 in gaining the Princess's notice : this was Leopold, third son 
 of the Prince of Coburg, who was in the service of the 
 Russian Emperor, and who, during his visit, lodged over a 
 grocery shop in High Street, Marylebone Road. This 
 Prince was gifted by nature with good looks, and was 
 pronounced to be the possessor of an elegant form. He 
 had boldly introduced himself to the Princess Charlotte by 
 bringing her a letter from some German cousin a hundred 
 times removed, of whose existence she had probably never 
 heard before. This incident led her to the knowledge that 
 the Prince's manners were agreeable, and she sought to 
 
 23
 
 354 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 improve his acquaintance ; but, alas ! as she was not per- 
 mitted to be present at any of the fetes, little opportunity /or 
 this offered itself; however, rather than run the risk of never 
 meeting him again, she asked him to tea, to partake of which 
 refreshing beverage the wily youth frequently presented him- 
 self at Warwick House. By the time he took his departure 
 he had contrived to leave a very favourable impression on 
 her mind. 
 
 The Prince of Orange was, of course, in town during the 
 visit of the illustrious sovereigns, but did not seem to prosper 
 in the good graces of his bride-elect : the more she saw of 
 him the less she liked him, and the more she felt convinced 
 that a man with such little depths of thought or feeling was 
 not calculated to be a guide for her in the stormy path which 
 she would probably have to tread. This fact, however, did 
 not seem to disturb him ; he amused himself vastly by attend- 
 ing balls, races and fetes, nor was his enjoyment seemingly 
 lessened by the fact that she was not present at these entertain- 
 ments to amuse herself likewise ; occasionally, too, he drank 
 more than was at all good for him, in which condition he 
 presented himself before her, and behaved in a manner which 
 may be described as rowdy. One day, the Princess informed 
 him that one of her reasons for wishing to remain in England 
 was on account of her mother; that on having a house of her 
 own, it must be opened equally to both her parents ; and 
 that she, as their daughter, must ignore all difference between 
 them. His Orange Highness, who feared the Regent, de- 
 murred, and said the motives urged by her for stopping in 
 England were to him arguments for getting away from 
 disagreeable complications, and that if she refused to go 
 abroad with him, their respective duties were irreconcilable 
 and their marriage impossible. 
 
 After this, some common-place disagreement ensued : the 
 Princess asked him to go with her to the riding-house, he 
 refused ; she persisted, and reproached him for his incivility,
 
 THE PRINCESS S SUFFERINGS. 355 
 
 when he, in a fit of anger, left her, but not before she told 
 him she would never consent to become his wife. She 
 followed up this statement by a letter, in which she said she 
 was fully convinced that her interest was materially connected 
 with that of her mother, and that her residence out of the 
 country would be equally prejudicial to her interest and that 
 of the Princess of Wales. ' After what has passed upon this 
 subject this morning between us,' she continued, ' I must 
 consider our engagement from this moment to be totally and 
 for ever at an end.' He heeded her letter but little, and at 
 a ball which he attended at Hertford House on the evening 
 of its reception, he spoke of her tantrums, but looked surprised 
 when he was told they were no laughing matter. He 
 took two days to consider the subject before replying ; 
 and he concluded the note he then wrote her by ' hoping 
 you will never repent of this step ' ; she only laughed at 
 his letter for the specimens of bad English which it 
 contained. 
 
 Before leaving, the Emperor of Russia paid the Princess 
 several visits, waxed eloquent over the virtues and qualities 
 of his Orange Highness, and strongly advocated her marry- 
 ing him, which from political motives would have been 
 agreeable to His Imperial Majesty ; but these entreaties 
 having no effect, he had a private interview with her just 
 before his departure, when he used all his endeavours to 
 change her mind, and prevail on her to see the Prince of 
 Orange, who was then waiting for the purpose in her house, 
 without her knowledge; but this she stoutly refused, and 
 declared over and over again she would have nothing to say 
 to him. At this time she was suffering severely from a hurt 
 she had received in her knee, which caused her pain by day, 
 and restlessness by night, and this, with the mental agitation 
 she had undergone concerning her marriage, made her ill. 
 Three doctors who attended her recommended her to the 
 sea-side, but her affectionate father, who now refused to see 
 
 23 a
 
 356 COURT LfFK BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 or speak to her, would not consent to her leaving town. ' I 
 am grown thin, sleep ill, and eat but little,' she writes to one 
 of her friends, at this time. ' Dr. Baily says my complaints 
 are all nervous, and that bathing and sailing will brace me ; 
 but I say, oh no ; no good can be done whilst the mind and 
 soul are on the rack constantly, and the spirits forced and 
 screwed up to a certain pitch. I always think six months 
 got over of this dreadful life I lead, six months gained ; but 
 when the time comes for moving from place to place, I do 
 it with reluctance, from never knowing my lot, or what next 
 may befall me.' 
 
 The Regent, having had his plans thwarted and his royal 
 will set aside by one whom he had treated as a child, strove 
 to revenge himself on her with all the pettiness of his vin- 
 dictive nature. The Bishop of Salisbury was sent to her 
 with threats, that if she did not hold out a hope of marrying 
 the Prince of Orange, certain arrangements would be made 
 regarding her by no means agreeable to her inclinations. 
 She replied she could give no such hope : she was then sent 
 for to Carlton House, but was too ill to go, and despatched 
 Miss Knight with an excuse. This lady found the Regent 
 1 very cold, very bitter, very silent.' Next evening, accom- 
 panied by his Grace of Salisbury, the Prince called on his 
 daughter, still looking black with anger, and remained shut 
 up with her for three quarters of an hour alone ; then his 
 spiritual lordship was called in, and the conference was 
 continued for some time longer; after which the door opened, 
 and the Princess came out, trembling, agitated, and in the 
 greatest agony. , Her father had revealed to her his plans for 
 her future; all her ladies and members of the household 
 were to be instantly dismissed, and new companions selected 
 by the Prince were already in the house, who were to guard 
 and watch her in the future. She was to leave Warwick 
 House that night, and after five days' confinement in Carlton 
 House, she was to be taken to Cranbourn Lodge, in the midst
 
 1 GOD GRANT ME PATIENCE.' 357 
 
 of Windsor Forest, where she was to be allowed to see no 
 one but the Queen once a week. 
 
 After telling this to Miss Knight, she fell on her knees 
 and cried out in great agitation, ' God Almighty grant me 
 patience !' Miss Knight was then sent for by the Prince, 
 who dismissed her, saying, in a surly tone by way of apology, 
 that he had a right to make any changes he pleased ; that 
 he was sorry to put a lady to inconvenience, but that he 
 wanted her room that night for the ladies who were to 
 attend the Princess ; that if she had nowhere to go, there 
 was a room at Carlton House which she might have for a 
 night or two ; to which she replied with some spirit, that 
 her father having served His Majesty for fifty years, and 
 sacrificed his health and fortune in that service, it would be 
 very strange if she could not put herself to the temporary 
 inconvenience of a few hours. When she left his august 
 presence, she found that the Princess, overcome with dis- 
 tress and perplexity, had rushed out of the house before 
 anyone could stop her, and had gone to her mother. 
 
 The fact was, that when Miss Knight left her, the Prin- 
 cess had put on her bonnet, slipped out of the house, stepped 
 into the first hackney-coach she could find, and putting a 
 guinea into the driver's hand, desired to be taken to Con- 
 naught House, where her mother then resided. Arrived 
 here, she found the Princess of Wales had gone to Black- 
 heath, when she sent for her immediately, as also for her 
 friend Miss Mercer ; then, flinging herself down on a couch, 
 she cried out in a passionate burst of tears, ' I would rather 
 earn my own bread and live on five shillings a week than 
 lead the life I do.' Meanwhile the Princess of Wales, ac- 
 companied by Lady Charlotte Lindsay, arrived in town in 
 great haste, and drove at once to the House of Parliament, 
 where she asked to see Mr. Whitehread ; he was not present, 
 and she then inquired for Eail Grey, who was likewise 
 absent ; she then drove home and sent for Mr. Brougham.
 
 358 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 The Princess did not receive her daughter with the sympathy 
 and affection which the latter had expected ; for Her Royal 
 Highness was at that time meditating a journey abroad, and 
 feared that any annoyance to the Regent might prevent him 
 from granting her desires ; the Princess Charlotte felt this 
 bitterly, and from that time never regarded her with the 
 same feelings as before. When Mr. Brougham arrived, the 
 young Princess rushed forward, and, taking him by both 
 hands, told him of the treatment with which her father 
 threatened her, and of the proposed marriage, the thought 
 of which had now grown abhorrent He told her that, 
 without her consent, it could not take place ; to which she 
 replied, c They may wear me out by ill-treatment, and may 
 represent that I have changed my mind and consented.' 
 Mr. Brougham sent for the Duke of Sussex, for whom of all 
 her uncles the Princess cared most, and he arrived presently. 
 The Regent had in the meantime sent for his Ministers, 
 and informed them of his daughter's flight, carefully con- 
 cealing from them the part which he had acted ; and after a 
 short council, Lord Chancellor Eldon, the Bishop of Salis- 
 bury, Lord Ellenborough, Leach, and finally the Duke of 
 York, were despatched to convey her to Carlton House. 
 They arrived one after another in hackney-coaches, and all 
 of them but Lord Eldon were shown into the drawing-room 
 downstairs, his lordship being, at the request of the Princess 
 Charlotte, who detested him, allowed to remain in his 
 hackney-coach. In an upper drawing-room the two Prin- 
 cesses and their friends held council ; the mother besought 
 her daughter to return to Carlton House, but the Princess 
 would not consent , she sobbed and cried bitterly, and 
 refused to return. Mr. Brougham then assured her that 
 the Regent would have a habeas corpus issued to force her 
 away, which indeed he had already done ; at which she 
 became still more affected. ' I have told many a client,' 
 writes Lord Brougham, ' he was j;oing to be convicted, but
 
 MR. BROUGHAM'S ADVICE. 359 
 
 I never saw anything like her stupefaction : for a quarter of 
 an hour she was lost.' 
 
 * At last she wrote to her father, offering to return if she 
 might retain one of her ladies, Miss Knight, and her maid. 
 The Bishop undertook to deliver this communication, and 
 presently returned with word that nothing but unconditional 
 surrender would satisfy the Regent. She then appealed to 
 Mr. Brougham for advice, to which he replied, ' Return to 
 Warwick House or Carlton House, and on no account pass 
 a night out of your own house.' 
 
 ' She was extremely affected, and cried,' he writes, in his 
 interesting ' Life and Times,' ' asking if I too refused to 
 stand by her ; I said quite the contrary, and that as to the 
 marriage I gave no opinion, except that she must follow her 
 own inclination entirely, but that her returning home was 
 absolutely necessary ; and in this all the rest fully agreed 
 her mother, the Duke of Sussex, Miss Mercer, and Lady 
 Charlotte Lindsay, for whom she had a great respect and 
 regard I said that, however painful it was for me, the 
 necessity was so clear and so strong that I had not the least 
 hesitation in advising it. She again and again begged me 
 to consider her situation, and to think whether, looking to 
 that, it was absolutely necessary she should return. The 
 day now began to dawn, and I took her to the window. 
 The election of Cochrane was to take place that day. I 
 said, " Look there, madam ; in a few hours all the streets 
 and the park, now empty, will be crowded with tens of 
 thousands. I have only to take you to that window, and 
 show you to the multitude, and tell them your grievances, 
 and they will all rise in your behalf." 
 
 ' " And why should they not ?" ' I think she said, or some 
 such words. 
 
 ' " The commotion," I answered, " will be excessive ; 
 Carlton House will be attacked perhaps pulled down ; the 
 soldiers will be ordered out, blood will be shed, and if
 
 360 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 your Royal Highness were to live a hundred years, it never 
 would be forgotten that your running away from your father's 
 house was the cause of the mischief ; and, you may depend 
 upon it, such is the English people's horror of bloodshed, 
 you never would get over it." 
 
 ' She at once felt the truth of my assertion, and consented 
 to see her uncle Frederick (Duke of York) below stairs, and 
 return with him. But she required one of the royal carriages 
 should be sent for, which came with her governess ; and 
 they, with the Duke of York, went home about five o'clock. 
 
 ' Before she went, however, she desired me to make a 
 minute of her declaration that she was resolved not to marry 
 the Prince of Orange, and that, if ever there should be an 
 announcement of such a match, it must be understood to 
 be without her consent and against her will. She added, 
 " I desire Augustus (Duke of Sussex) and Mr. Brougham 
 would particularly take notice of this." When I had made 
 the note, it was read distinctly and signed by all present, 
 she signing first, and six copies were made and signed, 
 and one given to each person present. Her positive injunction 
 was that, if ever we heard the match announced as being 
 to proceed, we should make her declaration in the note 
 public.' 
 
 When she arrived at Carlton House, she was obliged to 
 remain for half an hour in the coach-yard while it was de- 
 bated how she should be received. Next day Miss Knight 
 called, but was not admitted beyond the gate of Carlton 
 House, and in a few days after she was removed to Cran- 
 bourn Lodge. Here, during the first week of her captivity, 
 she managed to steal a piece of paper, and with a pencil 
 wrote a note, which was secretly conveyed to Miss Knight, 
 to be forwarded by her to the Duke of Sussex. ' His Royal 
 Highness,' wrote that lady, 'read it to me, and it contained 
 a melancholy description of the manner in which she was 
 confined and watched night and day.'
 
 LORD LIVERPOOL S REPLY. 361 
 
 Four days after the Princess's flight, the Morning Chronicle 
 published a detailed account of the matter, and of the re- 
 strictions with which she had been threatened, and great was 
 the public wrath once more stirred up against the Regent ; 
 the press teemed with comments by no means favourable on 
 his conduct, lampoons swarmed, and his treatment of his 
 daughter became the universal topic. 
 
 The Duke of Sussex wrote to the Prime Minister, asking 
 permission to see his niece, and received in return a brief 
 reply : ' The Regent has read the letter, and has no com- 
 mands.' After this he took an early opportunity of asking 
 Lord Liverpool, in the House of Lords, several pertinent 
 questions. He wished to be informed whether the Princess 
 Charlotte ' is, since her residence at Carlton House, in that 
 state of liberty which persons considered not as in confine- 
 ment ought to be in ? whether she has had the liberty of 
 that communication in writing and by letter of receiving 
 and sending letters and the use of pens, ink, and paper 
 that she had whilst at Warwick House ? whether she was 
 not recommended, as proper for her health, the use of the 
 sea-bath ? and whether, having arrived at the age of eighteen 
 years and a half past the period when Parliament has fre- 
 quently recognised the capacity of persons of the royal family 
 to assume the government of the country without assistance 
 whether there is any intention of providing an establish- 
 ment suitable for Her Royal Highness, and proper for her 
 to live and appear according to her due rank in that society 
 over which it will be her lot one day to reign ?' After an 
 awkward pause Lord Liverpool replied at some length, that 
 ' the Prince Regent had his daughter's benefit, interest, and 
 advantage in view in his conduct towards her.' 
 
 The Prince was so indignant at these questions asked by 
 the Duke of Sussex, that he never forgave him. He as- 
 sembled all his family, and told them they must choose 
 between him and the Duke ; all of them declared in favour
 
 362 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 of the Regent, except the Duke of Gloucester, who stoutly 
 refused to give up the friendship of the Duke of Sussex. 
 This latter Duke became so alarmed at these proceedings 
 that he found himself suddenly attacked by asthma, which 
 was so severe as to prevent him taking any further steps in 
 his niece's behalf, and she was therefore abandoned to her 
 fate. 
 
 The Regent, however, was somewhat in fear of the public 
 storm, and the Princess was sent to Weymouth under a 
 strong guard of ladies, whose watch never relaxed ; after 
 this visit she was conducted back again to the dreary 
 seclusion of Cranbourn Lodge, where she was kept till her 
 subsequent marriage. Her Majesty all this while was guilt- 
 less of all friendly interference on behalf of her grand- 
 daughter ; and this the public resented. On her going to 
 St. James's in a sedan-chair to hold a drawing-room, a 
 great crowd gathered round her, and, with menacing looks, 
 demanded, ' What have you done with the Princess f 
 'Where's your granddaughter?' Then followed a sharp 
 shower of hisses, and, according to Lord Grey, ' there was 
 no form of reproach that did not assail her ears.'
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 The Princess of Wales determines to leave England The 
 Opinion of her Friends The Regent rejoices Her 
 Departure The Princess Charlotte's Marriage Prince 
 Leopold and the Mob The Marriage Ceremony Brief 
 Illness and Death Sorrow of the Nation Indignation 
 against the Queen and Prince Marriages of the Royal 
 Dukes Death of the Queen The Last Days of the King 
 His Death. 
 
 THE Princess of Wales, worn out by humiliations, petty 
 persecutions, and trials, resolved to leave England and 
 travel on the Continent for some time. This plan was 
 opposed by most of her friends, and especially by Mr. 
 Brougham, who told her that as long as she stayed in this 
 country he would answer that no plot could succeed against 
 her, but living abroad she would be surrounded by spies 
 and tools of her enemies, ready to swear or invent as they 
 were directed. ' In England,' he wrote to her, ' spies and 
 false witnesses can do nothing ; abroad everything may be 
 apprehended from them. Depend upon it, madame, there 
 are many persons who now begin to see a chance of 
 divorcing you from the prince.' 
 
 But the Princess would not listen to his advice ; she was 
 exhausted by constant agitation and fears, and weary of a 
 country in which she never had one day's happiness ; she, 
 therefore, drew up a letter to Lord Liverpool, informing him 
 of her desire to go abroad, and inquiring if there would be 
 any opposition on the part of the Ministry to her fulfilling
 
 364 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 her intentions ; to which his Lordship, by order of the 
 Regent, declared there was none. This unusual accession to 
 her request, together with the promptness and civility of the 
 answer, should have been sufficient to make her suspicious 
 of the wisdom of her scheme Whether it had this effect or 
 not, she at once prepared for her journey, and wished to 
 make over her house at Blackheath to her daughter. When 
 this desire was made known to the Regent, he caused her to 
 be informed that the Princess Charlotte would never be per- 
 mitted to reside in a house which had once been occupied 
 by the Princess of Wales. 
 
 Before leaving England, the Government made her a grant 
 of ,50,000 a year, which was a boon to one who had fre- 
 quently been in debt and in many pecuniary difficulties, to 
 redeem herself from which she had been obliged to sell her 
 plate, and occasionally some of her jewels. ' I have found a 
 pair of old earrings,' she once wrote to a friend of hers, 
 ' which the devil of a Queen once gifted me with. I truly 
 believed that the sapphires arfals as her heart and soul i? f 
 but the diamonds are good, and j$ or 80 would be very 
 acceptable for them indeed.' Though she had made up her 
 mind to leave England, yet she was not without apprehending 
 the danger she was about to risk ; and, before starting, wrote 
 to Canning that if any machinations were going on against her, 
 were it only a whisper, she would quickly return and defend 
 her innocence. This letter was shown to the Regent, who, 
 to throw her off her guard, falsely declared no such thing 
 was intended. His royal soul was now almost overpowered 
 with joy at the prospect of getting rid of his wife ; and, in 
 order to celebrate her departure, he entertained some choice 
 spirits at dinner, after which, being probably drunk at the 
 time, he gave the toast, ' To the Princess of Wales, damna- 
 tion, and may she never return to England.' 
 
 The Princess, being prepared for her journey, went to 
 Worthing, where she was to embark, and where she was per-
 
 ''FATE COMPELS ME.' 365 
 
 mitted to have a brief interview with her daughter, whom 
 she was destined never again to see in this world. Her 
 spirits, on the eve of this journey, to which she had looked 
 forward with much expectation, became miserably depressed 
 and gloomy, and she would sit for hours at night on the 
 beach looking out at sea, silent and thoughtful, as if filled 
 with melancholy presentiments. 
 
 'Ah, well,' she said once, starting from one of these 
 reveries, ' grief is unavailing when fate compels me.' 
 
 Her suite consisted of Lady Charlotte Lindsay, Lady 
 Elizabeth Forbes, Sir William Cell, Dr. (afterwards Sir 
 Henry) Holland, and Mr. St. Leger, besides their atten- 
 dants. On the morning of August 9, 1814, she drove to the 
 Worthing beach, dressed in ' a dark cloth pelisse, with large 
 gold clasps, and a cap of velvet and green satin, of the 
 Prussian hussar costume, with a green feather.' It had been 
 her intention to embark from here, but so great was the 
 crowd, which increased every moment, that she withdrew as 
 quickly as possible to South Lancing, about two miles further 
 off, where a boat destined to convey her to the frigate in 
 which she was to sail proceeded to meet her. Her pur- 
 pose, however, was noticed, and she was followed the 
 whole way by an enormous crowd in carriages and on 
 foot, which WBS anxious to show her its sympathy and 
 respect. 
 
 The departure of this much-injured woman, who may be 
 said to have been driven from the country by the relentless 
 persecution of one whose duty it was to protect her, was not 
 without a touch of pathos. Tears stood in her eyes as she 
 got into the barge amidst the respectful silence of the vast 
 throng ; she could not venture to speak, but, turning round 
 to the people, she kissed her hands to them in route fare- 
 well ; immediately every man uncovered, and the women 
 waved their handkerchiefs, while the Princess was so over- 
 come that she fainted.
 
 366 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 Shortly after her mother's departure, the Princess Char- 
 lotte was removed to Warwick House, the entrance to which 
 by the road was secured by iron bars on the inside, so that 
 all who entered or left this prison were obliged to pass 
 through the courtyard of Carlton House. Moreover, the 
 Regent gave a list of those whom she was permitted to see ; 
 and to show the public that she was not quite such a pri- 
 soner as vile rumour hinted, she was allowed to go to the 
 opera or play once a week, guarded by her ladies, on the 
 understanding that she left the theatre before the perform- 
 ance concluded, and that she in no way courted popularity. 
 But the nation was not forgetful of her existence, and it 
 became plain to her royal father that he could not much 
 longer keep her in durance vile ; he was, therefore, resolved 
 to get her married as soon as possible, as otherwise the 
 Opposition might clamour for her being treated as heir- 
 apparent to the throne, which he was most anxious to avoid. 
 So determined, indeed, was he that no honours should be 
 paid her, that on one of her birthdays, when the good citizens 
 prepared to illuminate at night, he sent word to have such 
 proceedings stopped, and the anniversary was passed over 
 in silence. 
 
 Having made up his mind to get her married as soon as 
 possible, the Regent bethought himself of Prince Leopold, 
 who had, before leaving England with the Russian Emperor, 
 offered himself to the Prince as a suitor for his daughter's 
 hand, and been promptly rejected. He was now sent for, 
 and the Princess was summoned to accompany the Queen 
 to Brighton, where, to her surprise and joy, His Serene 
 Highness was presented to her as the man selected for her 
 future husband. Prince Leopold enjoyed the not too 
 extravagant income of two hundred a year, which those who 
 spoke irreverent things of royalty said was just sufficient to 
 buy him two coats and a dozen shirts ; but he was now about 
 being raised to a position in which he could afford to buy
 
 THE 'WEDDING. 367 
 
 himself a complete wardrobe. The sum of ,60,000 a year 
 was settled on the young couple, out of which the Princess 
 was to have the sole and separate use of ; 10,000; they 
 were also granted the round sum of ^60,000 to purchase an 
 outfit, ,10,000 of which was to be laid out on clothes, and 
 an equal sum on jewels. * 
 
 When His Serene Highness of Coburg came to London 
 as the accepted suitor of Princess Charlotte, he forsook his 
 old lodgings over the grocery shop in High Street, and hired 
 a bedroom at Jacquin's Hotel in Bond Street, which, at the 
 Regent's request, he subsequently quitted for Clarence House, 
 where all the necessaries of life were supplied to His Serene 
 Highness from Carlton House. 
 
 The wedding was fixed for May 2, 1816. Such an event 
 caused much interest, curiosity and excitement; and the 
 eagerness of the people was so great to see the young 
 foreigner who was about to become the husband of one 
 whom they regarded as their future Queen, that crowds 
 assembled round Clarence House the whole of the forenoon 
 of the wedding-day. Between them and the Prince an 
 understanding was soon established. As soon as a suffi- 
 ciently large number had gathered, they clapped hands, on 
 which signal the Prince of Coburg, habited in a blue coat, 
 buff waistcoat, and grey pantaloons, came forward on the 
 balcony and bowed repeatedly like a mechanical toy. The 
 crowd then went its way, busy with many conjectures and 
 comments, and in another quarter of an hour a fresh con- 
 course of people had collected and the same performance 
 was gone through. ' His ready and cheerful exhibition of 
 himself,' says one of the newspapers of the day, ' seemed to 
 diffuse the highest satisfaction among the spectators, and 
 excited, long before the close of the day, a cordial fami- 
 liarity.' 
 
 On the evening of May 2, the Queen, the Regent, and 
 Prince Leopold gave dinner-parties at their respective
 
 368 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 residences, after which all assembled at Carlton House, in 
 one of the apartments of which, known as the Great Crimson 
 Room, the marriage service was to take place. Here in due 
 time gathered the Queen, looking now somewhat shrunken, 
 old, and careworn, but as rigidly ceremonious as ever, 
 accompanied by the Princesses, blonde and buxom, and the 
 Regent, whose corpulency was rapidly increasing to un- 
 becoming dimensions, and whose face had a deep rich hue, 
 not altogether attained by exposure to weather. The Royal 
 Dukes were likewise present, as were two Archbishops and 
 an equal number of Bishops, and many Peers and Peeresses, 
 and Ministers of high estate. The apartment was lit up 
 with an exceeding great number of wax-lights, and the 
 whole scene was brilliant to behold. 
 
 The Regent, with hearty good-will, gave the bride away to 
 her future lord and master, who rejoiced to take her, and 
 the Archbishop of Canterbury performed the ceremony ; at 
 the conclusion of which, at twenty minutes past nine of the 
 clock, the guns in the Tower of St. James's announced to 
 the eager crowds that had gathered in the streets that these 
 two had been made one till death did them part. Illumina- 
 tions and many demonstrations of joy followed. The bride 
 and bridegroom then retired to change their dresses, after 
 which Her Royal Highness, without waiting to receive the 
 congratulations of the illustrious company, quietly slipped 
 down the private stairs from the state apartments to the 
 ground-floor, and entered the carriage waiting for her in the 
 garden, when she and her new-made husband drove to 
 Oatlands to spend the honeymoon. They afterwards took 
 a house in Park Lane, and finally bought Claremont, where 
 most of the Princess's brief but happy married life was 
 spent. 
 
 The existence she now led was as blissful as could be, and 
 simple. Prince Leopold proved wise, cautious, and affec- 
 tionate ; and she, whose days had heretofore been spent in
 
 SIR RICHARD CROFT *S AUTHORITY. 369 
 
 misery and restraint, became one of the happiest subjects in 
 the kingdom. 
 
 ' We lead a very quiet and retired life here,' she writes 
 from Claremont, a few months after her marriage, ' but a 
 very, very happy one !' Unfortunately these halcyon days 
 were destined to be of short duration. Early in November 
 of the year following her marriage, the nation looked for- 
 ward to her accouchement with keen interest, and it was 
 hoped that the birth of an heir would increase her store of 
 gladness. On the fourth of this month the great officers of 
 state were summoned that they might be present at the 
 expected event ; and Sir Richard Croft, a fashionable but 
 not very skilful accoucheur, and Mrs. Griffiths, a lady who 
 had never been a mother, but who, through interest, was 
 now appointed nurse, were sent for likewise. At so mo- 
 mentous a time as this to the Princess, it was strange and 
 sad that she was completely deserted by her family, and 
 that not a matron was to be found in her household. 
 The Regent was spending his days in the company of the 
 Marchioness of Hertford, at Ragley Hall in Suffolk, 
 whilst the Queen and the Princesses were at Bath. 
 According to Huish, Her Majesty had offered to 
 remain in town for this critical occasion; but 'the offer 
 was indginantly rejected by the Princess Charlotte, who 
 declared she would not have any of her enemies about 
 her.' 
 
 The Princess's labour commenced on the night of Novem- 
 ber 4, and lasted forty-eight hours, during which Sir Richard 
 Croft did not think well of sending for a second medical 
 man until fatal symptoms appeared. Sir Richard, indeed, 
 was tenacious of his professional dignity, and had said to 
 Baron Stockmar, a member of the household, who had 
 ventured to give it as his opinion that the Princess was 
 sinking, ' Arc you or I, sir, in authority here ?' At nine 
 o'clock on the evening of the 5th sh^ was delivered of a still- 
 
 ** 24
 
 370 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS 
 
 bom child, and five hours afterwards died in hei husband's 
 arms, November 6, 1817. 
 
 The sudden and melancholy shock of her death was felt 
 throughout the length and breadth of the country, and was 
 regarded as one of the most disastrous events that had ever 
 befallen the nation. With hope and confidence the people 
 had looked forward to her reign over them, and their grief 
 and disappointment at her death were bitter and deep. A 
 universal mourning was at once adopted by all classes; 
 theatres, operas, and all places of amusement voluntarily 
 closed; marriages and private entertainments were post- 
 poned ; business was deferred ; the churches were hung 
 with black ; and signs of earnest sorrow were visible 
 throughout the land. 
 
 When the news reached the Regent, he hastened to town, 
 and declared himself so ill from grief that he wished to have 
 his favourite operation of bleeding performed. He then 
 went to Windsor, where the Queen had returned, then 
 journeyed back again to town, and after a few days his 
 sorrow was sufficiently abated to permit him to visit the 
 Pagoda at Brighton, where, according to the press, ' he had 
 resolved to indulge his melancholy for a short time.' He 
 became so much better, surrounded by a society that had 
 always fresh charms for his soul, that the Morning Chronicle 
 was enabled to inform its readers ' all apprehensions relative 
 to his health had subsided ;' he did not, however, return to 
 town until after the funeral. Intelligence of the sad event 
 was conveyed to the Princess of Wales by Prince Leopold's 
 equerry, for even on such an occasion as this the Regent 
 had resolved to ignore the existence of his wife ; the unhappy 
 woman fainted when the news was broken to her. 
 
 ' She is gone before,' she said, ' and I trust we shall soon 
 meet in a better world than the present one.' 
 
 When the first outburst of national grief had subsided, 
 the most violent indignation was felt against the Queen and
 
 AN INQUIRY REWARDED. 371 
 
 the Regent. The cruelties practised by the latter on his 
 daughter but a few months ago were remembered, and the 
 fact that no male or female member of the royal family was 
 present during the Princess's illness was commented on with 
 scathing severity. It was asserted on excellent authority 
 that, humanly speaking, her life could have been saved, or, 
 in other words, that she died through wilful neglect. The 
 share of public odium which fell on Sir Richard Croft was 
 so great, and made such an impression on a mind more 
 sensitive than those of his superiors, that he soon afterwarc. 
 committed suicide. Strange to say, this incident, instead 
 of disarming public censure, but served to excice amongst 
 the people some wild and terrible suspicions which had 
 gradually been gaining ground, that the Princess had been 
 unfairly dealt with ; and Sir Richard's death by his own 
 hands was regarded as the result of remorse. It was like- 
 wise noted that Mrs. Griffiths, the nurse, whose name had 
 been previously mixed up with Sir Richard's in an unpleasant 
 manner, and who was never a suitable person for the re- 
 sponsible post she held towards the Princess, mysteriously 
 disappeared. These dark surmises gained such ground 
 that the press and public demanded a searching inquiry 
 into the circumstances of Her Royal Highness's illness. 
 
 ' The cry for an investigation of the circumstances at- 
 tending the mortal accouchement of the late Princess Char- 
 lotte,' says the Morning Chronicle, 'becomes day by day 
 more audible. It is the topic of every assembly, and we 
 lament to see it inflamed by the writings of medical men. 
 We have numerous letters on the subject, which we have 
 suppressed from a conviction of the inutility of such a re- 
 trospect.' 
 
 When Huish was compiling the Memoirs of George IV., 
 he tells us he repeatedly visited Esher, the town near Clare- 
 mont House, for the purpose of obtaining information 
 regarding the Princess Charlotte. He says, ' There was 
 
 24 2
 
 372 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 scarcely an inhabitant of the town who did not shake the 
 head, with all the expression of suspicion, whenever the 
 Princess's death was mentioned ; and,' adds this historian, 
 there is a corroding belief yet existing in many minds that 
 there is some mystery still to be revealed, and that the 
 fairest flower of Brunswick's royal line would, in other 
 hands, have lived to perpetuate their destiny, and to be a 
 blessing to the country of her birth.' No investigation 
 regarding the Princess's illness was ever made. 
 
 This public grief, according to Earl Grey, was ' annoying 
 to the Prince/ but he was powerless to set it aside. The 
 abuse heaped on him by the press was only equalled by 
 that preached in the pulpit, which was dealt out to him 
 without stint by such unworldly men as had no aspirations 
 towards lawn sleeves. Indeed, one celebrated preacher at 
 Cheltenham went so far as to dwell on a verse in Jeremiah, 
 which says, ' He shall not reign, nor any of his seed/ words 
 which were applied to the Regent, of whom it was devoutly 
 hoped they might prove prophetic. Never, perhaps, was 
 the unpopularity of any King or Prince so great ; he was 
 loathed by the nation, and censured for his extravagance at 
 a time when the country was depressed, bread scarce, taxes 
 high, and the public ready for an outbreak at any favourable 
 moment. The people occasionally gave vent to their feelings 
 by writing on the walls of Carlton House, ' Bread, or the 
 Regent's Head' ; and on one occasion they left a loaf steeped 
 in blood on the parapet in front of the building. 
 
 The spirit of disloyalty went a step further, and, on his 
 return from opening Parliament in 1817, he was fired at 
 from the crowd that had gathered to sullenly watch his 
 progress. The bullet broke one of the windows of his 
 carriage, but did no further injury. The Government 
 promptly offered the reward of ^1,000 for the discovery of 
 the intended assassin ; but, though there must have been 
 numbers who witnessed the act, it speaks for the general
 
 ' GERMAN PA UPERS. 373 
 
 feelings of the people that no one was found willing to hand 
 over to justice the man who sought to rid them of a ruler 
 they detested. 
 
 By the death of the Princess Charlotte, the Duke of York 
 became heir-apparent to the throne ; but he having no 
 issue, there was a prospect of his royal brothers succeeding 
 in due course ; and so they resolved to settle and marry. 
 Accordingly the three Royal Dukes of Clarence, Kent, and 
 Cambridge rushed over in hot speed to Germany, and made 
 a descent on various Courts to select their respective wives. 
 They evidently fell in love at first sight with the ladies 
 destined to become their spouses, for their choice was made 
 in remarkably quick time, and the nation was called on to 
 provide them with additional incomes in order to maintain 
 establishments suitable to their new position as the husbands 
 of Serene Princesses, scandalously stigmatized by the press 
 as ' German paupers, one more ugly than another.' 
 
 Not many months had elapsed after the death of the 
 Princess Charlotte when it was announced that the Queen 
 was dying an event which was regarded neither by her 
 own family nor by the nation at large as a calamity. During 
 her most serious illness the Regent enjoyed himself as usual, 
 and not many weeks before her death he entertained the 
 foreign ambassadors at his Court at dinner, after which, 
 being in a merry mood, he diverted the ministerial gravity 
 by singing them some jovial songs. Her Majesty had been 
 suffering for about ten months from spasmodic attacks and 
 dropsy, and finally, mortification setting in, her imminent 
 danger became obvious to all but herself. It was well 
 known that Her Majesty possessed a goodly share of per- 
 sonal property, and it was also a recognised fact that, not- 
 withstanding their frequent quarrels, the Prince of Wales 
 was her favourite child. The Prince was well aware of this, 
 and took pains to ascertain that she had made no will. He 
 tnerefore caused her to be informed ' that if Her Majesty
 
 374 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 had any affairs to settle, it would be advisable to do so 
 whilst she had health and spirits to bear the fatigue.' The 
 poor Queen was startled, but she took the hint, and made a 
 will in which she never mentioned his name. Her personal 
 property was, after her death, sworn to as being under 
 ; 1 40, ooo ; the greater part of which lay in the jewels for 
 which she had always had a passion. Those given her by 
 the King on her marriage, valued at .50,000, and paid for 
 by the nation, she bequeathed to the crown of Hanover as 
 an heirloom ; the magnificent jewels presented her by the 
 Nabob of Arcot, together with those which she had bought 
 from time to time and had received as presents, she ordered 
 to be sold, and to have the proceeds thereof divided amongst 
 four of her daughters the remaining daughter, the Queen 
 of Wurtemburg, with whom Her Majesty had had a misun- 
 derstanding, was not to derive any advantage from the sale. 
 The diamonds were valued at almost a million. The re- 
 mainder of her property was likewise divided between these 
 four daughters, no mention being made of her sons, or those 
 who had served her, with the exception of one German 
 woman, Madame Beckendorff, to whom she left her ward- 
 robe, said to be the finest in Europe. There was another 
 item in this royal will which caused much amusement at the 
 time. Her Majesty had made a careful list of such articles 
 of faded finery as she had brought with her when she came 
 as a bride to England, and for which, by the way, the country 
 had handsomely paid ; these, consisting of some dresses now 
 a trifle musty and tarnished, and tawdry trinkets, she 
 desired should be sent back to the senior branch of her 
 illustrious house of Mecklenburgh Strelitz. 
 
 On November 17, 1818, the Queen expired whilst sitting 
 in an easy-chair, the Regent, the Duke of York, and two 
 of the Princesses being present. The other members of the 
 royal family were conspicuous by their absence, a fact which 
 the Times commented on in the article announcing the
 
 ROYAL GRIEF. 375 
 
 royal demise. ' Were it safe to found a judgment,' says 
 this leader, ' on the recent dispersion of the Princes of the 
 blood royal, and of some of the Princesses, we might, how- 
 ever reluctantly, conclude that Her Majesty had not 
 altogether succeeded in attaching to her the hearts of her 
 children. The Duke of Cumberland is out of the question. 
 The inflexible, though well-meant, determination of the 
 Queen to stigmatize her niece, by shutting the doors of the 
 royal palace against her, may excuse strong feelings of es- 
 trangement or resentment, on the part of the Duchess and 
 of her husband ; but that the Dukes of Clarence, Kent, and 
 Cambridge at the same time should have quitted, as if by 
 signal, their parent's death-bed, is a circumstance which in 
 lower life would have at least astonished the community. 
 The departure of the Princess Elizabeth,* the Queen's 
 favourite daughter, who married and took leave of her in 
 the midst of that illness which it was pronounced would 
 shortly bring her to the grave, may perhaps have been owing 
 to the injunction of Her Majesty. The Duke of Gloucester 
 stands in a more remote degree of relationship : Prince 
 Leopold more distant still ; but they all quitted the scene 
 of suffering at a period when its fatal termination could not 
 be doubted.' Notwithstanding the insupportable grief of 
 the royal family, the building of the Pavilion at Brighton 
 was not discontinued for a day ; and strange is it to read in 
 the Morning Chronicle of November 24, the announcement 
 that ' His Royal Highness the Duke of Clarence will give a 
 
 The Princess Elizabeth married His Serene Highness of 
 Hesse Homburg, popularly styled ' Hesse Humbug,' who was 
 described by Fremantle as 'a monster of a man a vulgar- 
 looking German corporal, whose breath and hide is a compound 
 between tobacco and garlic. He has about ^300 per annum.' 
 Another correspondent of the Marquis of Buckingham's, de- 
 scribing His Serene Highness, says, ' An uglier hound, with a 
 snout buried in hair, I never saw.'
 
 376 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 splendid ball next Thursday, at which the nobility, the 
 officers down to the rank of lieutenant, and many persons 
 high in civil affairs, will be present.' 
 
 Her Majesty was buried at Windsor on the second of the 
 following month with great state, when the Prince Regent 
 acted as chief mourner. He evidently regarded the 
 occasion as one on which he might indulge in one of these 
 theatrical displays so dear to his royal soul, and went 
 attired in a black cloak, long, and of ' a great amplitude of 
 folds,' on the left breast of which was a star of brilliants, and 
 round the neck were four collars of knighthood, whose 
 colours finely contrasted with the weeds of woe, and 
 glittered with excellent effect It was night before the pro- 
 cession, surrounded by Lancers and Guards, reached St. 
 George's Chapel, and torches were lit and borne by the 
 military. 'These,' says Mr. Bush, 'gleaming upon the 
 soldiers' helmets, and partially disclosing now the hearse, 
 then the long, solemn procession, winding its slow way with 
 its trappings of death, presented a spectacle for the pencil 
 of the muse.' 
 
 After the death of Her Majesty it was suggested by the 
 Regent to place ' the care of the King's sacred person in the 
 Duke of York.' This guardianship consisted in two brief 
 visits to the King weekly, for which it was proposed His 
 Royal Highness should receive 10,000 a year. The 
 Duke, notwithstanding his pay as Commander of the Forces, 
 and as Colonel of the Grenadier Guards, with other posts, 
 whose salaries amounted in all to .36,000, was in debt to 
 the extent of ,200,000, and was, in fact, at this time in- 
 solvent His property was assigned under bills of sale to 
 fictitious creditors, in order that he might the better defraud 
 the tradespeople and others who had been so foolish as to 
 trust to his royal honour, but so little respect had these 
 dupes for him, that at the order of one of them his horses 
 and carriage were seized in the public street, whilst the 
 Royal Duke was using them. It may be added here that at
 
 CONDITION OF THE KING. 377 
 
 his death the Duke's creditors received the sum of one 
 shilling in the pound, by way of payment of his debts. 
 One cannot wonder at Lord Minto's opinion that ' if any- 
 thing can make a democracy in England it will be the 
 Royal Family.' 
 
 In consequence of his need, he therefore grasped at this 
 enormous salary, to be filched from the public pocket for 
 his benefit. The announcement of awarding him this sum 
 for such a duty caused wide indignation. His late ne- 
 farious transactions in connection with Mrs. Clarke were 
 again brought forward, and so stormy were the debates in 
 Parliament on this question of the allowance, that he from 
 very shame determined to forego the salary, but when he 
 communicated this resolve to the Regent, that royal man 
 became furious. 
 
 ' So, sir,' he said with a sneer, ' you would be popular at 
 our expense !' The Duke then changed his mind, and the 
 sum was granted by Parliament ; but he did not receive it 
 for more than two years, when his royal father died. 
 
 To the public at large His Majesty had long ceased to 
 exist : for years his lucid intervals had been rare, but his 
 fits of frenzy had fortunately been rarer yet. Totally blind 
 and deaf, almost deserted by his wife in the last years of 
 her life, and by his children, worn and stooped, his white 
 hair hanging on his shoulders, his silver beard sweeping his 
 chest, he wandered purposelessly from room to room, in 
 the suite of apartments allotted to him in his royal palace 
 at Windsor, a desolate and melancholy figure. Waterloo 
 had been lost and won ; the idol of France and fear of 
 Europe had fallen from his high estate ; the Bourbons once 
 more sat on their hereditary throne ; the Princess Charlotte 
 had wedded and died ; the Royal Princesses had been 
 given in marriage; the Princes had taken to themselves 
 wives ; the Queen and the Duke of Kent had passed away, 
 and yet of all these events the King had remained wholly 
 conscious to him all the world was a blank.
 
 378 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS, 
 
 On one occasion, during one of his lucid intervals, he 
 received a visit from the Queen, an unusual thing on her 
 part. Her Majesty found him singing a hymn in a quavering 
 mournful voice, whilst he accompanied himself on the harpsi- 
 chord, a favourite instrument of his. When he had ceased, 
 he hesitated for a moment, and went slowly down on his 
 knees, when he prayed for Her Majesty, then for his family, 
 and the nation, concluding with a touching petition for him- 
 self, that it might please God to avert his heavy calamity from 
 him, but if not, to give him resignation to submit; after which 
 he burst into tears, and his brief gleam of reason vanished, 
 leaving him once more in mental darkness. At times he 
 would hold imaginary conversations with statesmen long 
 since dead and gone ; and on other occasions he lost all 
 sense of his own identity, and believed himself dead. 
 
 ' I must have a new suit of clothes,' he would say, ' and I 
 will have them black, in memory of George the Third ; he 
 was a good man.' 
 
 One of his daughters, the Princess Elizabeth, speaking of 
 him in her correspondence, says : ' He considers himself no 
 longer an inhabitant of this world, and often, when he has 
 played one of his favourite tunes, observes that he was very 
 fond of it when he was in the world. He speaks of the 
 Queen and all his family, and hopes they are doing well now, 
 for he loved them very much when he was with them.' 
 
 Towards the middle of January, 1820, it became evident 
 to his doctors that his life was not destined to be of much 
 longer duration, and his family were prepared for news of his 
 expected demise. He lingered, however, till the 2pth of the 
 month, when the solemn toll of the great bell of St. Paul's 
 announced to his subjects that their Sovereign was no more. 
 He died calmly, but without recovering his reason during his 
 last hours the only one of his sons present at the dread 
 moment being the Duke of York. He had reigned over 
 sixty years, and had entered into his eighty-second year.
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 Schemes for a Royal Divorce The Princess Abroad The 
 Milan Commission The New Queen Her Journey to 
 London The Trial begins Lord John Russell's Hint to 
 His Majesty Italian Witnesses going to Westminster 
 Accusations against the Queen Bergami in the Tent 
 Result of the Trial and General Rejoicings Public Feeling 
 against the King Pamphlets and Ballads The Broad- 
 faced Naval Gentleman. 
 
 ALL this while the one predominant thought which seized 
 and held forcible possession of the Regent's brain, was how 
 he should rid himself of the spouse who was not of his bosom. 
 But four months after her departure from England, Brougham, 
 in writing to Earl Grey, says, ' Certain it is that some move- 
 ments towards a divorce have been in discussion at least at 
 Carlton House;' but the hour for the execution of this 
 treasured scheme was not yet at hand, and meanwhile the 
 royal man bided his time and plotted his plots. 
 
 On leaving England the Princess had gone to Brunswick, 
 where, after tarrying for some time at her brother's Court, and 
 relieving her purse of a considerable sum for his benefit, she 
 betook herself to Germany, and from thence to Italy, the 
 land she had selected as that of her future residence. From 
 time to time during her absence abroad, rumours reached 
 England of acquaintances she had made unworthy of her 
 notice as a British Princess ; of her characteristic familiarity
 
 380 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 with strangers ; of her love of gaiety ; and of her general 
 carelessness of behaviour. Repudiated by her husband, 
 separated from her child 1 at first by royal command, and 
 then by death bereft of friends, homeless and a wanderer, 
 she grew reckless, and her indiscretions were construed by 
 the spies who surrounded her into serious crimes. 
 
 ' From the first moment she quitted British ground,' as 
 the Times subsequently stated, ' she was dogged and tracked 
 by a band of lurking villains who were set to spy out all her 
 actions, with the certainty that, if they could either find or 
 impute crime, they would also find ready and grateful 
 auditors.' At Geneva it was said the Princess had appeared 
 at a ball, likewise honoured by Marie Louise, the ex-Empress 
 of France, dressed in the costume of Venus, which admitted 
 a view of her back-bone to a considerable extent ; at Naples 
 she graced an entertainment, given by Murat, as the Genius 
 of History, in a dress which, even in a warm climate, was 
 not considered a burden to the shoulders ; whilst at Athens 
 she witnessed the Dervishes dancing. Such acts as these 
 were quickly reported in England with due exaggeration, and 
 she mischievously enjoyed raising the storm which, subse- 
 quently, almost overwhelmed her. 
 
 Once, when at Como, she entertained a guest whom she 
 had strong reasons to suspect was one of her husband's spies, 
 and she immediately entered into a light and frivolous 
 conversation with him, and behaved with much familiarity ; 
 on which one of her suite privately warned her that her 
 every word and action would be reported to the Prince. 
 
 ' I know it,' she replied, ' and therefore I speak and act as 
 you see. The wasp leaves his sting in the wound, so do I. 
 The Regent will hear it ? I hope he will ; I love to mortify 
 him.' For this reason she courted the dangers that were 
 almost her ruin. 
 
 Before she had been long abroad, her suite left her, 
 disgusted, her enemies said, by her conduct ; but such was
 
 A SECRET COMMISSION. 381 
 
 not the case. Mr. St. Leger was obliged to return to Eng'and, 
 as his health could not bear the fatigue of travelling ; Lady 
 Charlotte Lindsay left for the purpose of visiting her relatives, 
 and subsequently rejoined her at Naples with her brother, 
 Lord North ; Sir William Cell, according to his subsequent 
 evidence, took his departure because he disliked travelling 
 in winter, and joined her when she returned from her tour 
 in Palestine; whilst Mr. Keppel Craven was obliged to 
 return to his family, in order to regulate some business. 
 This suite was replaced by Italians ; but, before most of her 
 friends went their various ways, an actor had stepped on the 
 scene, destined to play an important part in the tragedy of 
 the Princess's life. At Milan a courier had been dismissed 
 for misconduct, when the Marquis Ghisiliari recommended in 
 his place an Italian of good family named Bartolomeo 
 Bergami. This individual, from being a courier, was 
 gradually raised to be chamberlain, and his name soon 
 became scandalously connected with that of the Princess in 
 the mouths of her enemies. 
 
 But, notwithstanding the rumours which had been carried 
 to England concerning her, no condemnatory step was taken 
 until the death of the Princess Charlotte. A few months 
 after that sad event, a secret Commission, consisting of a 
 Chancery barrister named Leach, subsequently elevated to 
 the post of Vice-Chancellor, Mr. Cooke, also a barrister, Mr. 
 Powell, Colonel Brown, and Lord Stewart, were sent to 
 Milan, near where the Princess was then residing. Salaries 
 were, of course, attached to the respective offices of these 
 gentlemen, who had the power of rewarding in the hand- 
 somest manner such witnesses as bore testimony to their 
 desires ; so that the Commission, it was subsequently stated 
 by Sir Roland Ferguson in the House of Commons, cost the 
 country between thirty and forty thousand pounds. When 
 the Princess became aware that this secret tribunal was 
 sitting, she wrote a letter remonstrating with her husband,
 
 382 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 and demanding to know its object, to which no attention 
 was paid. 
 
 The Commission examined several witnesses, many of 
 whom were discharged servants of the Princess, with whom 
 ready terms could be made ; where such failed, threats were 
 used, and the result was that these gentlemen returned from 
 whence they had come with evidence which they believed 
 sufficient to blast the Princess's character in the eyes of all 
 men. She would have returned to England at once, but 
 her chief adviser, Mr. Brougham, urged her to remain 
 abroad, a counsel to which she submitted. No important 
 step was taken by the Regent towards the end he desired 
 until the King's death, when the new monarch announced 
 to his Ministers that he must have a divorce. They were, 
 however, not quite so ready to comply with his wishes as 
 he had hoped, a fact that made the monarch exceedingly 
 wrathful 
 
 ' His Majesty is most firmly bent upon a divorce,' writes 
 Mr. Bankes to Lord Colchester ; ' but, as those who must 
 carry his project into effect very naturally cast about and 
 calculate their means, his Ministers report to him unani- 
 mously that it is not feasible, and neither can nor ought to 
 be attempted. He perseveres. He insists most obstinately. 
 The Ministers positively refuse. He threatens to dismiss 
 them all, to which they reply that they are ready and willing 
 to retire from his service.' 
 
 Lord Castlereagh, in writing to Lord Stewart, confirms 
 this statement ; the Ministers received from the King, his 
 Lordship states, ' a written minute with a distinct intimation 
 that, if they were not prepared to advise His Majesty to 
 proceed by way of divorce, his determination was taken, 
 namely, to change his Government; and, if he could not 
 form a Government which would relieve him to that extent, 
 His Majesty's intention was to retire to Hanover.' 
 
 His Ministers, even when threatened with so stupendous
 
 THE QUEEN S RETURN. 383 
 
 a loss as the absence of His Majesty's sacred person from a 
 nation that abhorred him, hesitated in condemning a power- 
 less and persecuted woman ; they were willing, however, to 
 temporise, and consented to have her name omitted from 
 the Liturgy of the English Church service, and to deny her 
 the honour of coronation. With this the King was obliged 
 to be satisfied for the present. The omission of her name 
 was an insult which the new Queen felt deeply not that it 
 entailed her any spiritual loss, if the effects of the nation's 
 prayers for the members of the royal family might be judged 
 by their conduct, but because it was a grievous insult to 
 her dignity. She therefore wrote at once to the Premier 
 in a note that betrayed far more spirit than knowledge of 
 English 
 
 ' The Queen of this relams wishes to be informed, through 
 the medium of Lord Liverpool, First Minister to the King of 
 this relams, for which reason or motife the Queen name has 
 been left out of the general Prayer-Books in England, and 
 especially to prevent all her subjects to pay her such respect 
 which is due to the Queen. It is equally a great omittance 
 towards the King that his consort Queen should be obliged 
 to soummit to such great neglect, or rather araisin from a 
 perfect ignorance of the Archbishops of the real existence of 
 the Queen Caroline of England.' 
 
 To this communication she received no reply. Earl 
 Grosvenor afterwards remarked that, ' feeling as he did the 
 evils which the erasure of the Queen's name from the Liturgy 
 was likely to entail upon the nation, as well as its repugnance 
 to law and justice, he would, had he been Archbishop of 
 Canterbury, have thrown the Prayer-Book in the King's face 
 sooner than have consented to it.' 
 
 She now resolved to return to England, and for this pur- 
 pose passed rapidly through France. This movement had 
 not been expected by the King, who believed and desired 
 she would never return. Lord Hutchinson was therefore
 
 384 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 hastily despatched to meet her, and make her certain offers. 
 Her income had ceased, Parliament having only granted it 
 to her as Princess of Wales, and she was depending in a 
 great measure on the present Government, who were the 
 King's tools, and her avowed enemies. Lord Hutchinson 
 was therefore commissioned to offer her a bribe of ^50,000 
 for life, on condition that she would not assume the title of 
 Queen of England, or any title attached to the royal family 
 of England, and that she should not reside in or visit any 
 part of the United Kingdom. Fearing she might refuse this 
 offer, Lord Liverpool begged to inform her confidentially 
 that ' the decision was taken to proceed against her as soon 
 as she sets her foot on the British shores.' 
 
 This proposal she at once rejected with scorn ; her spirit, 
 she said, was yet strong, and she would go to England and 
 demand justice of the nation. She then dismissed her foreign 
 attendants and set out for Calais. During her absence her 
 popularity had not flagged, and the spirit she displayed in 
 bearding the royal lion in his den went far towards increasing 
 it, whilst even her enemies admitted that such an act was 
 not like that of a guilty woman. 
 
 Arrived at Dover, she was received by a royal salute, as 
 no orders to the contrary had been received by the garrison ; 
 already vast numbers had collected to receive her, and she, 
 being impatient to land, got into an open boat and was rowed 
 to shore. The instant she landed she was received by a 
 shout of welcome, that was renewed again and again with 
 ever-increasing force. The horses were taken from the 
 carriage which was to convey her to the York Hotel, and 
 she was drawn through the streets by a right eager crowd, 
 preceded by a band playing a triumphal march ; whilst two 
 large flags, bearing the inscription, ' God save Queen Caro- 
 line,' waved at either side of the carriage. A guard of honour 
 was placed at the door of the hotel, but as its presence did 
 not seem to please the people, the Queen sent word to thank
 
 A HEARTY WELCOME. 385 
 
 the commandant and to decline the guard, as her reliance 
 was placed on the first principles and cordial attachment of 
 the people ; the military then played ' God save the King ' 
 and retired. 
 
 A few hours after her landing, a deputation presented her 
 with a congratulatory address, the first of hundreds which 
 were to follow ; and after a short rest, she got into her car- 
 riage, which was once more drawn by the people outside the 
 town ; the horses were then put in, and she proceeded to 
 Canterbury. It was almost dark when she reached that city, 
 where she was met by a procession bearing over a hundred 
 flambeaux, whilst again the horses were removed from the 
 carriage, and she was drawn by an excited crowd to the 
 Fountain Hotel. But this was not all; at the inn, the 
 gallant mayor and his aldermen brave were waiting to 
 receive Her Majesty, and to offer her, in fine ponderous 
 phrases, their pompous congratulations. In the morn- 
 ing the scene of the previous evening was renewed ; the 
 streets, windows, and balconies were lined with people ; 
 the mob drew the carriage ; the church bells rang, 
 cheers filled the air, and everywhere were signs of re- 
 joicing. 
 
 Her journey to town was indeed one continued triumph, 
 which reached its climax as she approached London. At 
 Dartford, a number of horsemen came to meet, and greet, 
 and accompany her on her way, whilst at Shooter's Hill, 
 hundreds of vehicles of all descriptions joined the procession, 
 which now increased every moment At Blackheath all 
 kinds and conditions of men and women were awaiting her 
 arrival ; they received her with deafening cheers, and fol- 
 lowed in her wake to town. Here all business was sus- 
 pended ; dense crowds filled the thoroughfares through 
 which she passed ; handkerchiefs were shaken, hats tossed 
 in the air, bands played, banners waved, and cheers greeted 
 her everywhere. The procession now extended for miles,
 
 386 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 and was headed by a goodly cavalcade, which bent its mis- 
 chievous way up Pall Mall, so as to pass His Majesty's royal 
 residence, Carlton House. As it approached the palace, the 
 cheers gained fresh strength, and loud were the repeated 
 huzzas announcing the Queen's arrival, which were as gall 
 and wormwood to the kingly soul of the royal monarch 
 within, whose wrath was passing great. The merry crowd 
 swept on in triumph to South Audley Street, the residence 
 of Alderman Wood, the Queen's friend, where she was 
 obliged to stay for some days, as no house had been pre- 
 pared for her reception. When she had entered the mansion, 
 the crowd blocked the street from end to end, and showed 
 no disposition to disperse until she appeared at the balcony, 
 and acknowledged the loyal feelings of her subjects by many 
 smiles and curtsies. 
 
 On that same day, June 6, 1820, His Majesty sent a 
 message to the House of Lords, stating he considered it 
 necessary, in consequence of the arrival of the Queen, to 
 communicate certain papers respecting her conduct since 
 her departure from the kingdom. He added that he had 
 the fullest confidence Parliament would adopt that course of 
 proceeding which the justice of the case and the dignity of 
 His Majesty's crown required. This message was delivered 
 by Lord Castlereagh to the House of Lords, and by Lord 
 Liverpool to the Commons ; and each of these gentlemen 
 laid before him on the tables of the respective Houses a 
 green bag, supposed to contain the papers relative to the 
 Milan Commission. 
 
 Next day Mr. Brougham delivered a message from Her 
 Majesty, in which she informed her faithful Commons she 
 had been induced to return to England in consequence of 
 measures pursued against her honour and peace by secret 
 agents abroad, whose conduct was sanctioned by the Govern- 
 ment at home. It was fourteen years, she reminded them, 
 since the first cruel investigation was made into her conduct,
 
 NEGOTIATIONS TRIED. 387 
 
 from which fiery ordeal she had come forth scathless. She 
 now desired an open investigation, in which she might see 
 both the charges and the witnesses against her, a privilege 
 not denied to the meanest subject in the realm. She loudly 
 protested, in the face of the Sovereign, the Parliament, and 
 the country, against a secret tribunal to examine documents 
 privately prepared by her adversaries, a proceeding unknown 
 to the law of the land, and a flagrant violation of all the 
 principles of justice. From this, the only danger she had 
 any reason to fear, she appealed to the House of Commons 
 to protect her. These preliminaries over, the fight com- 
 menced. 
 
 On the following day Lord Liverpool moved that a select 
 committee ol fifteen Lords be chosen to examine the papers 
 relative to the Queen. The chairman of the committee was 
 Dr. Manners Sutton, Archbishop of Canterbury. Having 
 taken this step, the Ministry were anxious to ascertain how 
 far they would be supported by their friends. The result of 
 this inquiry was that a large portion of the community were 
 strongly adverse to the proceedings ; and some members of 
 the House of Commons who, declared themselves friends 
 alike of the King and Queen, suggested that an amicable 
 arrangement of the unhappy business might be concluded. 
 To this the Queen was not adverse, and the Duke of 
 Wellington and Lord Castlereagh, on the part of the King, 
 and Mr. Brougham and Mr. Denman, on the part of 
 Her Majesty, were selected as men best fitted for the 
 management of the negotiations. These, however, proved 
 unsatisfactory The case, therefore, went on, and the 
 report of the committee selected to examine ' certain papers 
 connected with Her Majesty's conduct,' gave it as their 
 judgment that those 'documents contained allegations 
 charging her with an adulterous connection with a foreigner, 
 originally in her service in a menial capacity ; and attributing 
 to Her Majesty a continued course oi conduct highly unbe- 
 
 252
 
 388 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 coming Her Majesty's rank and station, and of the most 
 licentious character.' 
 
 The day after this report was made, Lord Dacre presented 
 a petition from the Queen, stating that she was ready to 
 defend herself from these gross charges, and praying that 
 she might be heard through her counsel ; this was refused, 
 the excuse being given that such a proceeding was irregular. 
 Lord Liverpool then introduced the Bill known as ' An Act 
 to deprive Her Majesty, Caroline Amelia Elizabeth, of the 
 title, prerogatives, rights, privileges, and exemptions of 
 Queen-Consort of the realm, and to dissolve the marriage 
 between His Majesty and the said Caroline Amelia Eliza- 
 beth.' This Bill charged her with carrying on ' a licentious, 
 disgraceful, and adulterous intercourse' with Bartolomeo 
 Bergami. When Her Majesty was served with a copy by 
 Sir Thomas Tyrwhitt, she received it with an emotion which 
 she in vain sought to conceal. Had the prosecution com- 
 menced a quarter of a century earlier, she remarked, it 
 might have suited her husband's purpose better. ' But,' she 
 added, 'as we shall not meet in this world, I hope we shall 
 in the next, where justice will be rendered me.' 
 
 This Bill, the first of its kind introduced since the days of 
 Henry VIII., was regarded as a vile proceeding, which 
 might serve as a dangerous precedent. As Lord John 
 Russell begged to remind His Majesty, in a letter to that 
 gracious personage, which pointed a moral, ' in uncrowning 
 a head without necessity, we see much to alarm us in the 
 example, nothing to console us in the immediate benefit ; 
 not,' says his Lordship, remembering that he addressed a 
 monarch, the first of whose line were a century before as 
 strangers in a strange land, ' not that we do not recognise 
 the right of Parliament to alter the succession to the Crown ; 
 none respect more than we do the Act of Settlement which 
 took away the Crown from its hereditary successors, and gave 
 it to the House of Brunswick.' Then follows a hint that
 
 ' THE SURE PATH TO HONOUR.' 389 
 
 Parliament might be called on to regulate the succession 
 once more. The Times powerfully stigmatized the Bill, and 
 spoke of the desired divorce as ' an infamous object sought 
 through illegal means '; it pointed out that, instead of the 
 divorce following the proof of adultery, the charge was 
 made and the divorce sought for in the same Bill... 'It 
 would be little less remarkable,' it added, ' if the divorce 
 were passed first and the adultery were proved after- 
 wards. ' 
 
 The Queen, through Lord Dacre, petitioned the House 
 of Lords against the Bill ; the only alleged foundation for 
 it, she urged, was the report of the secret committee, pro- 
 ceeding solely on papers submitted to them, and before 
 whom no single witness had been examined. She pointed 
 out that her counsel had been refused a hearing at the bar, 
 at a stage of the investigation when it was most natural they 
 should be heard, and that a list of the witnesses, whose 
 names were known to her accusers, was refused her ; she 
 therefore protested against the whole proceedings, and once 
 more prayed that her counsel might be admitted to state her 
 claims at the bar of the House of Lords. Her counsel, 
 Brougham and Denman, were then, when refusal was no 
 longer possible, admitted, and Brougham asked for a delay 
 of two months previous to further proceedings, in order to 
 enable the Queen to summon her witnesses for the defence ; 
 this was finally allowed. 
 
 During this cessation of hostilities, Her Majesty addressed 
 a long and stirring letter to her husband, setting forth her 
 violent wrongs and protesting her innocence. 
 
 ' When to calumniate, revile, and betray me became the 
 sure path to honour and riches, it would have been strange 
 indeed if calumniators, revilers, and traitors had not abounded.' 
 She said, 'Your Court became much less a scene of polished 
 manners and refined intercourse than that of low intrigue 
 and scurrility. Spies, bacchanalian tale-bearers, and foul
 
 390 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 conspirators swarmed in those places which had before been 
 the resort of sobriety, virtue, and honour.' Speaking of the 
 Bill, she continues, ' I must either protest against this mode 
 of trial, or, by tacitly consenting to it, suffer my honour to 
 be sacrificed. No innocence can secure the accused if the 
 judges and the jurors be chosen by the accuser ; and if I 
 were tacitly to submit to a tribunal of this description I 
 should be instrumental in my own dishonour.' She finally 
 concludes : ' You wrested from me my child, and with her 
 my only comfort and consolation. You sent me sorrowing 
 through the world, and even in my sorrows pursued me with 
 unrelenting persecution. Having left me nothing but my 
 innocence, you would now by a mockery of justice deprive 
 me even of the reputation of possessing that The poisoned 
 bowl and the poignard are means more manly than perjured 
 witnesses and partial tribunals ; and they are less cruel, 
 inasmuch as life is less valuable than honour. If my life 
 would have satisfied your Majesty, you should have had it 
 on the sole condition of giving me a place in the same tomb 
 with my child ; but, since you would send me dishonoured 
 to the grave, I will resist the attempt with all the means that 
 it shall please God to give me.' 
 
 Thib letter, from which these extracts are taken, being 
 inserted in many of the daily papers, published as a pam- 
 phlet, freely circulated, and posted on almost every wall in 
 the metropolis, served in no small measure to rouse up the 
 bitterest feelings against the King and his Ministers. The 
 whole nation from end to end was dangerously excited 
 against the measures about to be taken, and the sympathy 
 felt for the Queen was almost universal. Public meetings 
 were held in almost every parish and county in England, 
 when votes of confidence in her innocence were passed, and 
 hopes that she might escape from the toils of her enemies 
 were expressed ; whilst the corporations of all the principal 
 cities and towns in England, headed by the Common Council
 
 GOING TO WESTMINSTER. 391 
 
 of London, presented her with addresses. These deputations 
 were generally followed by enormous crowds, which usually 
 shaped themselves into processions, with bands and banners ; 
 so that from the day of her landing until weeks after the 
 termination of the trial, London was kept at a fever-pitch of 
 excitement. Nor was the object of the general enthusiasm 
 at all averse to it. 
 
 ' I have derived," she said, in reply to one of these pre- 
 sentations, ' unspeakable consolations from the zealous and 
 constant attachment of this warm-hearted, just, and generous 
 people, to live at home with, and to cherish whom will be 
 the chief happiness of the remainder of my days.' 
 
 Meanwhile, preparations for the great trial were being 
 rapidly made, and the Italians selected to bear evidence 
 against the Queen who, it was generally understood, were 
 to be liberally rewarded were summoned to England. 
 Arriving at Dover, they were treated roughly by a large 
 crowd, who had gathered to give them a warm reception ; 
 and, but for the protection of the military, it is doubtful if 
 they would ever have seen London town. When there, 
 however, they were scarcely less open to danger ; and the 
 Ministry, after having moved them from one residence to 
 another, finally shipped them off to Holland, until such 
 time as their presence was necessary in the House of Lords. 
 When that period arrived, they were conveyed at night from 
 the docks in an open boat, rowed with muffled oars, and 
 lodged at Cotton Garden, close to Westminster. The Queen 
 announced her intention of being present in the House of 
 Lords every day during her trial. 
 
 After a short residence at South Audley Street, a house 
 was procured for her in Portman Street, from where she 
 moved to Brandenburgh House, near Hammersmith, where 
 volunteer .sentinels kept nightly watch over her safety. But 
 Brandenburgh House being considered too inconvenient a 
 residence for her during the trial, she gratefully accepted an
 
 392 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 offer made her of a house in St. James's Square by the 
 widow of Sir Philip Francis. Driving from this residence 
 every day to Westminster, she was obliged to pass Carlton 
 House, at which point of her journey the cheers of the 
 crowd, who invariably accompanied her, were pitched in a 
 higher and more defiant key. 
 
 On August 17 this trial, which will be for ever memorable 
 in the history of this country, commenced. The Queen, 
 accompanied by her faithful friend, Lady Anne Hamilton, 
 drove to the House of Lords in a new state carriage drawn 
 by six bay horses, and preceded by her chamberlain and 
 Alderman Wood in a carriage drawn by four horses ; vast 
 crowds lined every inch of her route, and she was received 
 by the heartiest acclamations. Never, indeed, had the 
 public been so demonstrative ; loud cries of ' The Queen ! 
 the Queen ! long live Queen Caroline !' were shouted, and 
 taken up by the throng, long before her carriage came in 
 view ; whilst the house-tops were crowded, as well as the 
 windows and balconies, by those anxious to catch sight of 
 her. Her Majesty, according to an eloquent description in 
 the daily papers, was dressed in black, ' with a rich white 
 lace veil, which flowed gracefully over her shoulders, and 
 hung like an antique vestment over her dress.' 
 
 Preparations had already been made at Westminster to 
 withstand the expected crush, or any rebellious outbreak of 
 the multitude ; the whole area in front of the House of 
 Lords was enclosed by double rows of strong timber fences ; 
 within this a large body of constables were placed, under the 
 orders of such dignitaries as the high bailiff and the high 
 constable, all being in attendance before seven o'clock in 
 the morning. A body of the Foot Guards were posted at 
 the King's Bench Office and the Record Office ; gunboats 
 were stationed at the river side of Westminster Hall ; a troop 
 of Life Guards formed a line in front of the principal gate ; 
 a detachment of Foot Guards were posted under the piazza
 
 OPENING OF THE TRIAL. 393 
 
 of the House of Lords ; a body of the Surrey Mounted 
 Patrol paraded Parliament Street, Whitehall, and Charing 
 Cross ; whilst, another detachment of the Life Guards rode 
 through Abingdon Street. It seemed, indeed, as if a battle 
 were about being fought instead of a cause being tried. 
 
 Arrived at the House of Lords, the Queen was received 
 with military honours, and conducted by Sir Thomas 
 Tyrwhitt and Mr. Brougham to the place assigned her near 
 her counsel, where a throne-like chair and cushion were 
 fixed for her. At her entrance into the House, the Peers 
 rose to their feet and bowed, and she acknowledged the 
 courtesy with dignity and grace. The first days of the 
 trial bore but little interest, with the exception of that 
 aroused by a speech of Brougham's, in which he referred to 
 the Queen's generosity, which induced her to refrain from 
 all recrimination, and mentioned the unusual circumstance 
 of the defendant in a divorce case being prevented from 
 exposing the guilt of the accuser. The trial could have but 
 one aspect in the eyes of the people, he remarked, and 
 they will naturally say, ' Here is a man who wishes to get 
 rid of his wife ; he talks of the honour and safety of the 
 country, yet its dearest interest, its peace, its morals, and 
 its happiness, are to be satisfied to gratify his desires.' 
 
 After the King's Attorney-General had opened the case for 
 the plaintiff, those who were to bear witness against the 
 Queen were called, the first of whom was Theodore 
 Majoccni, formerly in Her Majesty's service. He had no 
 sooner appeared than Her Majesty, overcome for the 
 moment, exclaimed, ' Oh, traitor !' and at once retired to 
 the apartment allotted to her use ; nor did she again appear 
 in the House of Lords during that day. Majocchi was the 
 principal witness, and the sum and substance of his evi- 
 dence was that a tent had been erected on the deck of a 
 vessel in which the Queen sailed, that she slept in the tent, 
 and that Bergami slept there also; furthermore, that
 
 3$4 COURT LTFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 Bergami attended her when in her bath. This evidence 
 was regarded as damning by her enemies, and even her 
 friends grew fearful of the result. It was the best card the 
 prosecutors had to play, and the King's Solicitor-General, 
 Copley, made the most of it by purposely protracting his 
 examination until such time as he hoped its effects had 
 sunk so deeply into the public mind that they could not be 
 dispelled by any subsequent contradiction. 
 
 When Copley had finished, Majocchi was subjected by 
 Brougham to a most searching and rigorous cross-ex- 
 amination, which had the effect of tearing his evidence to 
 shreds, and utterly demolishing him. It was shown that 
 though Bergami rested beneath the same tent with the 
 Queen, the tent was open on all sides, as was rendered 
 necessary by the heat of the climate ; that sailors passed to 
 and fro continually ; that the light of a tropical sky 
 rendered it possible to see all that passed within the tent at 
 any hour ; and that whilst in the bath she invariably wore a 
 bathing costume. A cloud of witnesses followed, and a 
 very dark cloud they were. One of these, Rastelli, was 
 another servant of the Queen's, whom she had discharged 
 for robbery. So palpable were the lies uttered by this 
 rogue, that those who had summoned him became heartily 
 ashamed of him, and sent him quietly away before his re- 
 examination could take place. Another of them, Louisa 
 Demont, had formerly passed herself off as the Countess 
 Colombier. This distinguished lady had also been dis- 
 missed from the Queen's service, and in her cross-examina- 
 tion admitted she ' had not spoken true,' whilst at the same 
 time a light was thrown on the motives which had induced 
 her to favour this country with her presence. She had 
 received a mysterious letter without a signature, proposing 
 that she should set off for London under the pretence of 
 being a governess, and promising that in return for her 
 compliance she would be rewarded with ' high protection
 
 HER MAJESTY S WITNESSES. 395 
 
 and a brilliant fortune in a short time ': she was also in- 
 formed that she might draw on a certain bank for whatever 
 amount she pleased. As Brougham reminded the Lords, the 
 witnesses which the Crown had ventured to call were every- 
 one of them irreparably damaged in their credit : their 
 testimony he characterized as ' inadequate to prove a debt, 
 impotent to deprive of a civil right, ridiculous to convict of 
 the lowest offence, scandalous if brought forward to support 
 a charge of the highest nature which the law knows, 
 monstrous to ruin the honour, to blast the name of an 
 English Queen.' 
 
 The witnesses who were brought forward in favour of 
 Her Majesty included Lords Guilford, Glenberrie, and 
 Llandaff, Lady Charlotte Lindsay, Sir William Gell, and Sir 
 J. P. Beresford, all of whom had been in her company 
 abroad, and who had failed to see any improprieties in her 
 conduct. The case for the Crown closed on September 7, 
 and the House adjourned till October 3, when Brougham 
 defended his royal client in a speech remarkable for its 
 power and eloquence, which delighted, and even surprised, 
 the most sanguine of his friends. But if it astonished his 
 friends, it appalled his adversaries by its boldness. ' He 
 declared,' says Rush, ' that nothing should check him in 
 fulfilling his duty, and that he would recriminate upon the 
 King if necessary. He said that an English advocate 
 could look to nothing but the rights of his client ; and that 
 even should the country itself suffer, his feelings as a patriot 
 must give way to his professional obligations.' His speech 
 made a strong impression on his hearers, and this was 
 increased by Denman's forcible words which followed. 
 The debates which ensued were stormy. Earl Grey 
 declared if the Bill passed it would prove the most 
 disastrous step the House had ever taken : he charged the 
 servants of the Crown with the grossest neglect of duty, in 
 the first instance in listening only to ex parti evidence, and
 
 396 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 giving a willing credence to the most exaggerated and un- 
 founded calumnies : whilst Lord Grosvenor said, that sooner 
 than remain one of His Majesty's Administration, he- would, 
 'under such circumstances as the present, have trampled 
 upon the seals of office.' 
 
 But the Lords temporal were not more divided amongst 
 themselves than the Lords spiritual. The Archbishop of 
 York, and some minor luminaries of the Church, refused to 
 recognise a divorce ; but his Grace of Canterbury proving 
 himself to be a man of principles, ingeniously contrived to 
 shift when necessary, and informing such of their Lordships 
 as might entertain any foolish conscientious scruples about 
 parting those whom God had joined together, that divorces 
 were consistent with his Master's word : nay, ' he must tell 
 their Lordships that they were directly and expressly declared 
 to be lawful by our Saviour Himself.' On hearing which, 
 the Right Reverend Father in God, the Bishop of London, 
 jumped on his ecclesiastical feet, and gave his testimony 
 that ' divorces were authorized by our Saviour ': he further- 
 more added, for the benefit of his unenlightened and un- 
 courtly brethren, the information, equally religious and true, 
 that 'the King could do no wrong ; he could not commit a 
 fault, far less a crime.' Strange to say, there were those 
 among his hearers who laboured in such gross and heretical 
 darkness as not to believe the words of this spiritual teacher ; 
 and the height of profanity was reached next day when an 
 epigram, which ran as follows, gained circulation, relative to 
 his wise speech 
 
 ' Not commit any folly nor do any wrong, 
 May be said or be sung as a very good song ; 
 But what, don't you own then, in this maxim so starch, 
 He can add to a Bishop the prefix of Arch' 
 
 whilst the daily papers reminded the Archbishop of Canter- 
 bury of Wolsey's fate, and thought that in a little while he
 
 A THREATENED REVOLUTION. 397 
 
 might find the famous lines, ' Had I but serv'd my God with 
 half the zeal I served my King, he would not in mine age have 
 left me naked to mine enemies,' applicable to "his own case. 
 
 When the votes were taken against one clause of the Bill, 
 the majority against the Queen was twenty-eight ; and she at 
 once signed a protest against the proceedings. Her Majesty, 
 this document said, ' now most deliberately, and before God, 
 asserts that she is wholly innocent of the crime laid to her 
 charge.' When the House divided on the question, 'That 
 the Bill be now read a third time,' there were one hundred 
 and eight contents and ninety-nine not contents, which left 
 the Crown a majority of nine, the exact number of Peers who 
 were members of the Cabinet. Lord Liverpool, after a short 
 deliberation, then rose and said he could not be ignorant of 
 the state of public feeling regarding the measure, and that 
 the Crown had come to the conclusion of not proceeding 
 further with it 
 
 The Queen was in her apartment in the House of Lords 
 when news was brought her that the Bill had been abandoned. 
 She received the intelligence in silence, and with perfect 
 composure, not perhaps knowing how it would affect her, 
 but on reaching her carriage burst into a tempest of tears. 
 Though nominally the Crown had gained the day, yet it 
 was felt that in reality Her Majesty had triumphed, and the 
 rejection of the Bill was regarded, as the famous Lord 
 Erskine said, as ' the victory of right and justice over wrong 
 and malignity.' 
 
 During the great trial the people had continued in a state 
 of excitement bordering on revolt ; and this feeling was 
 largely and dangerously shared in by the military. One 
 regiment of cavalry vowed they ' would fight up to their 
 knees in blood for the Queen '; whilst Lord Brougham tells 
 us, in his ' Life and Times,' that during the examination of 
 Majocchi, when the evidence seemed most unfavourable to 
 Her Majesty, the Guards, in their undress trousers and
 
 393 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 foraging-caps, came to a house where her friends were and 
 called out, ' Never mind ; it may be going badly, but, 
 better or worse, we are all with you ;' for which language 
 they were ordered out of London, but mutinied at Kingston. 
 On another occasion the military stationed at the mews at 
 Charing Cross, who had betrayed symptons of discontent at 
 the crowded state of their barrack, were invited by the mob 
 to come out and join them in a demonstration for the 
 Queen ; heaven only knows what might have happened, but 
 that Lord Sidmouth, who chanced to be riding by, seeing 
 the imminent danger, galloped to the Horse Guards at full 
 speed, and called out a troop of the 2nd Life Guards 
 to quell this revolutionary spirit. It was indeed believed 
 by many that, if the Duke of Kent, the most popular 
 member of his family, were living, a revolution would 
 have broken out in his favour, and the country have 
 been steeped in the horrors of civil warfare. 
 
 This fact was fully recognised at the time, as there is 
 abundance of evidence in the public press and private 
 correspondence of the period to show. Even the Attorney- 
 General, as the Right Hon. Thomas Grenville writes to the 
 Marquis of Buckingham, ' in his speech yesterday in the 
 House of Commons, used the expression " that there was no 
 doubt that a revolution was in contemplation."' 
 
 The storm of public abuse which burst over the King's 
 head was daily added to by publications the most keenly 
 satirical, personal, and abusive, all of which His Majesty, 
 who lived in strict seclusion during this time, thought well to 
 overlook. 
 
 Denman, the Queen's counsel, in his famous speech, 
 which had followed Brougham's, had compared His Gracious 
 Majesty to Nero, and the Times had followed suit by con- 
 trasting him with Henry VIII., to the favour of the latter ; 
 upon which hints, the general press ransacked history for 
 the most infamous characters it contained, and placed them
 
 THE KINGS SON GEORGE. 399 
 
 on a parallel with the Sovereign Lord and King. Pamphlets, 
 scurrilous poems, and ridiculous caricatures were issued 
 almost hourly, and many of them are yet preserved in our 
 national library. Amongst the most popular of these pub- 
 lications were, 'A Peep at the Divan,' 'Nero Vanquished,' 
 ' The Degraded Son,' reciting, in a brief manner, his in- 
 famous career from his youth up until now, ' Caroline and 
 the Italian Ragamuffins,' 'The Bag of Lies,' 'John Bull 
 Peppering the Italian Rascals,' ' Gorgeous Whelp ' (Guelph), 
 and ' The Acts of Adonis the Great,' ' Sultan Sham and his 
 Seven Wives.' ' Gorgeous Whelp' was a poem, sung to the 
 air of ' Robin Adair,' and ran as follows : 
 
 ' I am but just threescore, 
 
 Gorgeous Whelp. 
 
 My wife ! ah, there's the bore, 
 
 Haunts me on sea and shore ! 
 
 Gorgeous Whelp. 
 
 ' She haunts me up and down, 
 
 Gorgeous Whelp ; 
 She wants to crack my crown ; 
 I'll go to Colonel Brown. 
 
 Gorgeous Whelp.' 
 
 This strain was continued through many verses. 
 Caroline and the Italian Ragamuffins ' enjoyed wide 
 celebrity, and was boldly sung in the public streets to large 
 crowds ; whilst another satire, ' The Acts of Adonis the 
 Great, ' was written in Scriptural style, and, as an instance 
 of the liberty allowed the press, may be quoted : 
 
 ' And it came to pass, in the reign of Guelpho, King of 
 Bull, there was much murmuring throughout all the land. 
 
 ' For the King's son Gorge, which, being interpreted in 
 the Bullish, signifieth Great Eater and Drinker, had done 
 evil in the sight of the law, and had committed drunkenness 
 and debauchery in high and low places.
 
 400 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 ' Moreover, he had dwelt with concubines and evil 
 counsellors, and had filled the land with abominations and 
 uncleanness, and had wasted the treasure of the children of 
 Bull in debauchery, and the tradesmen of Bull wept, and put 
 on sackcloth and ashes ; for he was deep in their debt, and 
 they mourned that they could not recover it 
 
 'And they cried out, with loud voices, "Oh, Gorge, thou 
 son of Guelpho, pay thy people." 
 
 ' And the King's son was troubled at the words of the 
 children of Bull, and he smote his whiskers, and cursed 
 them. 
 
 ' And he took unto wife Enilorac, the daughter of Brun. 
 
 ' But the concubines and evil counsellors were wroth that 
 he had taken her to wife, seeing that he would no longer 
 give unto them riches and much treasure. 
 
 'And they conspired together to fill his heart with lies, 
 and they tempted him, and mocked his wife Enilorac. 
 
 ' And they made him drunk with wine ; and he mocked 
 her also. 
 
 'And there was murmuring all over the land, and the 
 people hated Gorge, because he had dared to mock Enilorac 
 his wife. 
 
 'And Gorge was drunk with wine every day, from the 
 rising of the sun to the going down of the same, and his face 
 was bloated with drink, and the tip of his nose was of a blue 
 colour. 
 
 ' Now King Guelpho waxed old, and his sight departed 
 from him, and his senses fled, and he was like a new-born 
 infant. 
 
 ' And the nobles of the land and the captains of the hosts 
 and all the wise men gathered themselves together, and they 
 mourned because of the exceeding weakness of the King. 
 
 ' And they said unto each other, " It is fitting we should 
 have another ruler, seeing the King can no longer govern 
 his people/' and they appointed Gorge his son to reign over 
 them.
 
 1 THE TOBACCONISTS MOURNED' 401 
 
 'And they called him Re-gent, which, in the Bullish 
 language, signifieth, " No longer blackguard," and all the 
 people prayed he might alter his ways, and do that which 
 was right. 
 
 'And he was two score and eighteen years old when he 
 filled the seat of his father, and he wore a wig of many 
 curls. 
 
 ' And Queen Snuffy, his mother, died, and she was buried 
 in the sepulchre of the Princes of Bull. 
 
 ' And she bequeathed unto her loving son Gorge a huge 
 vessel of Strasburg, and tears came into his eyes. 
 
 ' And the people put on black garments, and the tobacco- 
 nists mourned over all the land, and there was a fall in the 
 price of snuff of one silver sixpence in the pound. 
 
 ' And Enilorac, his wife, said unto her counsellors, 
 "Wherefore should I tarry longer in the land, seeing my 
 husband setteth an evil example and debaucheth the morals 
 of the people ? Verily I say unto ye, I will leave this land, 
 and travel to some far country, for my husband protecteth 
 me not, neither endeavoureth he to do good unto me." 
 
 ' And she departed out of the land, saying, " My husband 
 Gorge disregardeth his marriage vow, neither careth he for 
 my welfare." ' 
 
 Perhaps the height of irony was reached when addresses 
 were proposed to be offered to His Majesty, to congratulate 
 him on ' the happy escape of his illustrious consort from the 
 snares of her enemies ;' and the depth of ridicule sounded 
 by the following advertisement : 
 
 'STRAYED AND MISSINO, 
 
 ' An infirm elderly gentleman in a Public Office lately left 
 his home, just after dreadfully ill-using his wife about half-a- 
 crown, and trying to beat her. He had long complained a 
 great deal of his forehead, and lately had a leech put upon 
 
 ** 26
 
 402 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 him. He was last seen walking swiftly towards the Horns 
 without a crown to his hat, accompanied by some evil- 
 disposed persons, who tied a great green bag to his tail full 
 of crackers, which he mistook for sweetmeats, and burnt 
 himself dreadfully. Every person he met in this deplorable 
 condition tried to persuade him to go back, but in vain. 
 He is very deaf and very obstinate, and cannot bear to be 
 looked at or spoken to. It is supposed he has been carried 
 off by some artful female. He may be easily known by his 
 manners. He fancies himself the politest man in Europe, 
 because he knows how to bow and to offer a pinch of snuff; 
 and he thinks himself the greatest man in Europe, because 
 people have humoured him and let him have his own way. 
 He is so fond of tailoring that he lately began a suit that 
 will take him his life to complete. He delights in playing 
 at soldiers, supposes himself a cavalry officer, and makes 
 speeches that others write for him in a field-marshal's 
 uniform. Sometimes he fancies himself "Glorious Apollo." 
 His concerns are very much deranged. Not long ago he 
 imported a vast quantity of Italian images at enormous prices 
 upon credit ; since then things have gone all against him, 
 and he has been in a very desponding state. It is of the 
 utmost consequence to himself that he should be at his post, 
 or he may lose his place, one of his predecessors some time 
 ago having been cashiered for his misconduct. If this 
 should meet his eye, it is earnestly requested that he should 
 return to his duty.' 
 
 Nor was it at the King alone that these poison-tipped arrows 
 were driven. One, at least, of his royal brothers came in for 
 a share of them ; this was the Duke of Clarence, afterwards 
 known as His Sacred Majesty William IV. He had once 
 been the most friendly member of his family towards the 
 Queen, but had in her days of danger not only forsaken, but 
 grossly calumniated her.
 
 ' ABSCONDED' 403 
 
 Rush narrates that D. j nman, when making his famous 
 speech, turned to where this Royal Duke sat, and, fixing his 
 eyes on him, called out, 'Come forth, thou slanderer!' When, 
 according to the Morning Chronicle, the Lords gave their 
 votes on the Queen's Bill, they generally ' preserved decorum 
 on whichever side they determined ; but the Duke of Clar- 
 ence, a Prince of the blood royal, brother-in-law and cousin- 
 german to the accused, distinguished himself from all others 
 by the vehemence of his manner.' Shortly after the trial, 
 Turner, of Aldersgate Street, published a pamphlet which 
 commenced 
 
 'ABSCONDED. 
 
 ' The Slanderer, a broad-faced, naval gentleman, about 
 fifty-five years of age, accustomed to slander, and late an 
 inhabitant of the river Jordan. He was last seen in the 
 gallery of a place of public entertainment ; and has lately 
 been particularly anxious to disseminate lies and other im- 
 proprieties, in the hope of obtaining a crown which had been 
 slily offered him,' etc. 
 
 But the whole of this pamphlet will not bear republi- 
 cation. 
 
 2
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 The Queen's Thanksgiving The Coronation and the King's 
 Vanity Exclusion of Her Majesty and its Effects Her 
 Death and Remarkable Funeral Riots and Bloodshed 
 The King with his Irish Subjects O'Connell and the 
 Modern Caesar The King's Seclusion His Eccentric 
 Life at Windsor The Marchioness of Conyngham and her 
 Despotic Rule The King's Last Days His Love of 
 Mimicry His Hallucinations and Death. 
 
 THE people were satisfied with the victory which the Queen 
 had gained, and rejoiced over it exceedingly ; for three suc- 
 cessive nights London was illuminated, and presented a blaze 
 of light from end to end. ' A town relieved from a twelve- 
 month's siege,' says the Morning Chronicle, ' could not have 
 displayed more tumultuous gladness.' Bands patrolled the 
 streets ; bonfires blazed in the squares ; the effigies of those 
 who had borne false witness against the Queen were paraded 
 through the town, and hung high upon a mimic gallows; the 
 windows of houses which exhibited no lights were ruthlessly 
 smashed ; the residences of Lords Castlereagh and Liverpool 
 were guarded by the military ; and great was the general 
 excitement 
 
 Amongst the first to call on Her Majesty and offer her 
 their congratulations were Prince Leopold and the Duke of 
 Sussex ; the latter had been summoned to the House of 
 Peers by the Lord Chancellor for the second reading of the 
 Bill, but had stoutly refused compliance. Their example 
 was quickly followed by numbers of the nobility ; many old
 
 THE QUEEN'S TRIUMPH. 405 
 
 friends flocked round her, and addresses poured in on her 
 by the hundred. Her triumph had such effect that the Funds 
 rapidly rose, ' and have,' says the Times, ' continued rising 
 since the receipt of intelligence in the City that this Bill, this 
 nightmare on the national credit and tranquillity, had vanished 
 into the regions of utter darkness whence it originated.' 
 Immediately after her trial she applied to the Premier to be 
 furnished with a suitable residence and provision ; to which 
 Lord Liverpool replied, the King had no intention of per- 
 mitting her to reside in any of the royal palaces, but the 
 allowance she had enjoyed would be continued to her. A 
 subscription was then set on foot for the purpose of building 
 her a palace ' at once befitting the dignity of the Queen, the 
 gift of the people, and their sympathy in her sufferings from 
 the first moment of her landing on the English shore.' Large 
 subscriptions were received, and, had she lived, the palace 
 would no doubt have been erected. 
 
 She now determined to proceed to St Paul's in state, 
 there to return public thanks for her recent delivery from 
 the hands of her enemies. When intimation of this was 
 given by the Lord Mayor to the Dean and Chapter of the 
 cathedral, they were by no means ready to lend their aid 
 towards carrying out the necessary arrangements, having 
 already received due instructions from high quarters. Lord 
 Sidmouth, in a letter to the Dean, Dr. Van Mildred, Bishop 
 of Llandaff a mild and paternal shepherd, who had ex- 
 pressed himself in favour of the royal divorce, and had beer 
 obliged to take refuge from a flock that had ousted him from 
 his parish of Ewelme regretted ' it was wholly out of the 
 power of the Government to prevent Her Majesty's intention 
 of attending divine service at St. Paul's Cathedral from being 
 carried into effect.' 
 
 It was arranged by the ruling powers that no special 
 service should be held ; that the doors of the v-Jhurch 
 should be thrown open to the public as npon ordinary
 
 4o6 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 occasions ; and, moreover, that the Lord Mayor and Cor- 
 poration would be held responsible for any injury the 
 cathedral might sustain. On November 30, the Queen 
 came in such state as she could summon, and was attended 
 by a voluntary guard of honour, consisting of fifty horsemen 
 and an immense number of people. She was received at 
 Temple Bar by the Lord Mayor, sheriffs, sword-bearer, and 
 many members of the Corporation, who conducted her to 
 the City. The church was crowded to excess, but it was 
 noted that two seats were vacant, the Bishop's throne and 
 the Dean's seat, both of these good men having written to 
 the Lord Mayor prohibiting them from being used. All 
 that the Dean and Chapter could do to lessen the effect 
 of the service was carefully done. In the Litany no mention 
 was made of the Queen's name, and in the general ' thank- 
 ing,' Mr. Hayes, one of the minor canons, who was the 
 officiating clergyman, omitted the particular thanksgiving 
 which it had been customary to offer up at the request of 
 any individual, and which the Queen had desired might be 
 offered on her behalf. 
 
 When the service was over, Her Majesty and the pro- 
 cession returned in the same manner as they had come, 
 and, notwithstanding the great and excited crowds which 
 surged through the thoroughfares, no injury was done. 
 Even the saintly Bishop of Llandaff afore-mentioned ad- 
 mitted that ' this strange exhibition had gone off with less 
 disgrace to the country than might have been expected ; 
 although, after all,' added his spiritual Lordship, ' it had 
 been a mockery of religious solemnity at which every serious 
 Christian must shudder.' 
 
 Her Majesty was destined to appear at but one more 
 public celebration, and then the curtain descended upon 
 the troubled drama of her life for evermore. This was at 
 the coronation of the King, fixed for July 19, 1821, a 
 pageant celebrated with much pomp and state, and all
 
 PREPARING FOR CORONATION. 407 
 
 that theatrical effect so dear to His Majesty. For days 
 and nights he held grave council with his friends and 
 flatterers as to the dresses, colours, and combinations which 
 were to make up this fine show, in which he was to 
 be the observed of all observers, and which cost the nation 
 the sum of ^250,000. His Sacred Majesty intended to 
 surround himself with such royal magnificence as would 
 dazzle the eyes of his subjects, and no expense was therefore 
 spared. His own robes, which were to be worn but a 
 few short hours, cost his subjects the extravagant sum 
 of ^25,000, and so charmed was his royal soul by their 
 splendour, that he had one of his servants dressed up 
 in them, and ordered him to parade up and down the 
 apartments, whilst His Majesty lay back in his chair lost 
 in rapture and admiration at their effect. The King 
 afterwards had his picture taken in these robes, and so 
 proud and delighted was he with the presentment of his 
 magnificence, that he sent copies of it to all the Courts 
 and British embassies in Europe. 
 
 The Queen had addressed a letter to her royal spouse, 
 praying that she, his lawful wife, might also be crowned, to 
 which prayer a brief answer was returned by Lord Liver- 
 pool, informing her she ' could form no part in the cere- 
 monial.' Not intimidated by this reply, she petitioned the 
 Secretary of State for the Home Department to the same 
 effect, when she was informed she had ' neither claim nor 
 right to the ceremonial.' However, Her Majesty was not 
 yet willing to give up the point, and she announced her in- 
 tention of being present at the coronation as one of the 
 audience, if she could not be one of the actors, and de- 
 manded of Lord Sidmouth that a suitable place might be 
 provided for her. His Lordship, in return, informed her 
 His Majesty would not allow her to be present. She was, 
 however, determined that she would, and, notwithstanding 
 that her legal advisers begged of her to abandon the resolu-
 
 408 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 tion, she, accompanied by Lady Anne Hamilton, Lord 
 Hood, her present Chamberlain, and Lady Hood, drove to 
 Westminster in a carriage drawn by six horses. 
 
 The people, faithful to her to the last, hailed her as usual 
 with cheers, and accompanied her to the Abbey ; the cries 
 of ' The Queen, the Queen !' were heard within the sacred 
 walls, and the doors were immediately bolted on the inside. 
 Never was there such a remarkable scene. Already a dense 
 and motley crowd had collected in the vicinity, to witness as 
 much of the royal pomp as might be vouchsafed to their 
 hungering eyes. Men pushed their way with good-humoured 
 violence, women struggled and shrieked, curses and laughter 
 fell on the ear, and above the loud din could be heard the 
 voice of authority, speaking through the lips of Mr. Town- 
 shend, the Bow Street officer, a little man in a flaxen wig 
 and a broad-brimmed hat, crying aloud, ' Gentlemen and 
 ladies, take care of your pockets, for you are surrounded by 
 thieves.' Alas ! this warning had fallen too late on the ears 
 of one who had travelled a far way, a Welsh gentleman, who 
 replied to the Bow Street officer : 
 
 ' Mr. Townshend, Mr. Townshend, I have been robbed of 
 my gold watch and purse containing all my money. What 
 am I to do to get home ? I have come two hundred miles 
 to see this sight, and, instead of receiving satisfaction or 
 hospitality, I am robbed by those cut-throats called the 
 swell-mob.' 
 
 The crowd evinced no sympathy for this sorrowing gentle- 
 man, whom it merely laughed at, and to whom it replied in 
 an odd manner by singing ' Home, sweet Home,' mingled 
 with cries of ' Get back to your goats, my good fellow.' On 
 his remonstrating with his mocking, yelling enemies, now 
 dancing round him in derision, his hat was beaten over his 
 eyes, his neckcloth dragged from his neck and the clothes 
 from his body ; for the London rough was then, as now, a 
 terrible and unholy specimen of humanity.
 
 THE QUEEN'S TROUBLES ENDED. - 409 
 
 The crowd now followed the Queen to the principal 
 entrance of the Abbey, where she presented herself for 
 admission. The officer on guard demanded her ticket, 
 when she replied that as Queen of England she needed 
 none ; on which he expressed his regret, but said he must 
 obey his orders and admit none but those who held tickets. 
 Deeply humiliated, Her Majesty turned away and, attended 
 by her little band of friends, went to the other doors, where 
 she repeated her demand for admission and was again 
 repulsed ; as a final insult, a file of soldiers were formed 
 across the platform to prevent her proceeding farther. With 
 a broken heart she left the scene, and in less than a month 
 from that time death had ended all her troubles. 
 
 The continued excitement under which she had laboured 
 for months brought on a disease from which she knew there 
 was no recovery. ' I know I shall die,' she said quietly, 
 'and I don't regret it.' Though she had but little to leave, 
 she made her will, caused her diary, which had been kept 
 for years, and which contained many strange pages, to be 
 burned in her presence, and spoke forgivingly of her enemies. 
 Her death took place on the yth of August, 1821. 'I desire,' 
 she said in her will, ' that the inscription on my coffin be, 
 " Here lies Caroline of Brunswick, the injured Queen of 
 England.' 
 
 Lord Sidmouth hurried to Holyhead to communicate the 
 intelligence of her demise to the King, who had a little 
 while before started to visit his Irish subjects. Five days 
 after that on which she died His Majesty landed in Ireland, 
 and the spot on which his royal foot was first set is unto this 
 day marked by a monument erected by his most grateful 
 Hibernian subjects. 
 
 His Majesty's passage to Dublin was, according to the 
 Duke of Buckingham's 'Memoirs of the Court of George IV.,' 
 ' occupied in eating goose-pie and drinking whisky, of which 
 His Majesty partook most abundantly, singing many joyous
 
 410 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 songs, and being in a state, on his arrival, to double in sight 
 even the numbers of his gracious subjects assembled on the 
 pier to receive him. The fact was that they were in the last 
 stage of intoxication.' 
 
 Hours before he landed a vast crowd had collected on 
 the shore, ail eager to catch a glimpse of the burly-figured, 
 mutton-chop-whiskered, rubicund-complexioned, elderly 
 gentleman, daintily attired in a blue frock-coat and panta- 
 loons, with Hessian boots and a little foraging-cap bedizened 
 with gold lace stuck jauntily on his head. In their excess 
 of enthusiastic loyalty and at the rare sight of royalty, some 
 of the people shed tears, and all of them cheered him to the 
 echo. 
 
 The pious and portly monarch extended a hand somewhat 
 unsteady, cased in a white silk glove, over them, and prayed, 
 in rather husky tones, that God would bless them ; for which 
 they filled the air with the sound of loud acclamations, and 
 in return His Majesty removed the little foraging-cap from 
 his kingly brow again and again. He then drove to the 
 Viceregal Lodge, where he made the crowd which had fol- 
 lowed him a very remarkable speech, to which they listened 
 with great respect and much amazement 
 
 He was obliged (invariably pronounced ' obligeed ' by the 
 royal lips) to them for their reception ; ' particular circum- 
 stances ' (he said, alluding to the Queen's death) 'have 
 occurred, known to you all, of which it is better at present, 
 he added in confidence, ' not to speak ; upon these subjects 
 I leave it to your delicate and generous hearts to appreciate 
 my feelings.' In the next sentence he, with characteristic 
 delicacy, assured them this was the happiest day of his life, 
 and imparted to them the astonishing information that his 
 heart had ahvays been Irish ; ' from the day it first beat,' he 
 said, ' I have loved Ireland.' 
 
 But neither this assurance nor what followed was too 
 strong for his hearers, who loved to be flattered as well as to
 
 A HASTY FUNERAL. 41 1 
 
 flatter. Rank, station, and honour His Majesty held as 
 nothingness and vanity ; but to live in the hearts of his Irish 
 subjects was to him the most exalted happiness. He would 
 give a proof of his affection to them that day by drinking 
 their health in a bumper of Irish whisky, and he hoped 
 they would do the same unto him. His Majesty, it 
 may be added, forgot to give the barefooted and ragged 
 crowd who had tramped after him nine miles to the Vice- 
 regal Lodge the means of following his royal advice ; but 
 waving his tinsel-adorned cap to them once more, he dis- 
 appeared within the Lodge. 
 
 Meanwhile the Government, acting under special instruc- 
 tions from the King, made speedy preparations for the 
 Queen's funeral. She had desired to be buried in Bruns- 
 wick ; and August 14 was the day fixed for the cortege to 
 start for Harwich. Lady Hood addressed a letter to the 
 Premier, asking that some delay might be made, as the 
 ladies who were to accompany the Queen's remains had not 
 time to prepare. To which a brief answer was made, that 
 if the ladies were not ready, they might stay behind, and, 
 when convenient to themselves, might join the procession 
 on its route. Common courtesy had not been paid the 
 Queen during her life, and common respect was denied to 
 her remains. Her Majesty's friends were refused informa- 
 tion as to the route by which the funeral would proceed 
 
 The most direct way lay through the City, and the Lord 
 Mayor and Corporation made ready to receive the royal 
 remains at Temple Bar and accompany them to White- 
 chapel. The Government, however, privately determined 
 that the procession should not pass through the City, and 
 that the people should not be permitted the opportunity 
 which would be afforded them, if the body were allowed to 
 pass through the principal streets, of paying their last tributes 
 of sympathy and respect to one whose life had known per- 
 secution and sorrow. They kept their peace, however, until
 
 412 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 the morning of the i4th. On that day, when Sir George 
 Naylor, who was instructed by the Government to see their 
 directions carried out, arrived at the Queen's residence, and 
 entered the apartment where the royal body lay, he was met 
 by the few intimate friends of the Queen, headed by Dr. 
 Lushington, who censured the steps taken by those in 
 authority. 
 
 ' I enter my solemn protest,' said the doctor stoutly, ' in 
 right of the legal power which is vested in me by her late 
 Majesty as executor. I command that the body be not 
 removed till the arrangements suitable to the rank and 
 dignity of the deceased are mada' 
 
 His words might as well have been addressed to empty 
 air. The remains were at once removed, and the procession 
 bereft of all signs of state and dignity, save for the at- 
 tendance of a squadron of cavalry, whose presence was 
 intended to quell all popular demonstrations set out, fol- 
 lowed by her late Majesty's legal advisers, physicians, and 
 few friends, most of whom drove in their private carriages. 
 The sky was overcast, the day gloomy, and torrents of rain 
 fell unceasingly ; yet the road was thickly lined with people, 
 who, having heard of the intention of conveying the body 
 through the byways and the outskirts of the City, showed by 
 their excited and threatening manner that, in spite of all 
 opposition, they were determined to have the Queen's re- 
 mains spared this last insult, and have them carried through 
 the streets of London. 
 
 All went well until the procession reached Kensington 
 Church, when an attempt was made by those in authority to 
 turn the cortege up Church Street into the Bayswater Road, 
 in order to avoid the City, when a hoarse cry went up from 
 the assembled thousands, mingled with groans and hisses ; 
 but this indication of the people's feelings not having 
 the desired effect, they pressed forward, quickly dug up 
 the road, and, in an incredibly short space, barricaded it
 
 DISGRACEFUL CONDUCT. 413 
 
 so effectually that progress was impossible. Sir Richard 
 Baker and a company of Life Guards were now sent for, 
 but, their services being of no use, orders were given that 
 the direct road to London should be taken. The people 
 celebrated this victory with ringing cheers ; and once more 
 this strange, but far from solemn, procession wended its 
 unseemly way. 
 
 However, the Government were as determined as the 
 crowd that their will should not be thwarted ; and orders 
 were at once sent to Sir Richard Baker and the commander 
 of the Life Guards that the remains of this most sad and 
 uncrowned Queen should be taken through Hyde Park into 
 the Edgware Road, and so avoid the City. When the 
 procession, therefore, arrived at Hyde Park Corner, another 
 scene was enacted. The crowd, whose numbers were now 
 much increased, seeing the intention of those in authority, 
 firmly held the gates, crying out, in a voice of thunder, 'The 
 City ! the City !' Deaf to this appeal, an attempt was made 
 to cross the Park ; but the resistance of the populace proved 
 too strong, and an effort was then made to proceed down 
 Park Lane. This was likewise defeated; but, whilst the 
 attempt was being made, and the attention of the people 
 directed to this spot, part of the procession forced its way 
 into the Park, and its entrance was quickly followed by the 
 soldiery, who closed the gates on the people. The royal 
 remains were now quickly trotted across the Park, followed 
 by the disorganized cavalry ; but, before they could reach 
 Cumberland Gate, the crowd had rushed round the walls, 
 and were ready to meet them. The people were now furious 
 in their excitement, and resolved to have their desires 
 carried out at any sacrifice. Packed closely together, they 
 made all further progress impossible. A halt was therefore 
 made ; but as no signs of turning back were given, the 
 exasperated crowd pulled down a great part of the Park 
 wall, and commenced to fling stones at the solditrs and
 
 4H COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 officers ; in return a volley was fired, which had the effect 
 of killing two men and wounding many. Frightened and 
 subdued for the moment, the crowd gave way, and the 
 Queen's remains were galloped towards the Edgware Road. 
 Meanwhile the people, always mighty when united, had 
 recovered their first surprise, and now, more enraged than 
 before, barricaded the road in such a manner that it was 
 impossible for the procession to proceed without the aid of 
 artillery. 
 
 Sir Richard Baker, fearing more bloodshed, and the 
 probable destruction of many lives, yielded to the wishes of 
 the people, and, after the royal remains had been for seven 
 hours exposed to the uttermost humiliation, and driven, now 
 here, now there, through a pitiless storm of wind and rain, 
 they were at last forced down Drury Lane into the Strand. 
 For the consideration and humanity which Sir Richard 
 Baker showed in not following out the blindly obstinate 
 wishes of the Government, and refusing to risk the lives of 
 soldiers and civilians, he lost his office of chief magistrate, 
 by the King's desire. 
 
 At Temple Bar the funeral was met by the Lord Mayor, 
 who, in virtue of his office as City King, forbade the Life 
 Guards to cross the barrier marking the boundary of his 
 kingdom. He and his Corporation attended the remains as 
 far as Whitechapel, from whence they were taken to Col- 
 chester, and allowed to rest the night at St. Peter's Church. 
 The plate bearing the inscription, 'Here lies Caroline of 
 Brunswick, the injured Queen of England,' was at dead of 
 night affixed to the coffin, but was ruthlessly wrenched off 
 next morning, and replaced by another, on which her name 
 and date of her death were merely inscribed. 
 
 Arrived at Harwich, the coffin was conveyed with little 
 ceremony to the frigate Glasgow, followed still by a few 
 faithful friends Lord and Lady Hood, Lady Anne Hamil- 
 ton, Count Vassali, and Dr. and Mrs. Lushin^ton. On
 
 FAREWELL TO IRELAND. 415 
 
 August 24 the remains reached Brunswick, where they were 
 placed between those of the deceased's father and her 
 brother, in the vaults beneath the church of St. Blaise ; and 
 here at last this most unhappy woman was allowed to rest in 
 peace. 
 
 The King returned to London, on September 15, from 
 his visit to the Emerald Isle, where he had eaten many 
 heavy dinners, drunk more bumpers of whisky punch than 
 was good for him, and made many flowery and foolish 
 speeches. On departing, he once more blessed his loyal 
 Irish subjects, and told them, with a voice which emotion 
 and a too liberal libation of whisky had helped to make 
 unsteady, that he 'felt depressed with sincere sorrow' at 
 leaving them ; he had ' never felt sensations of more delight,' 
 strange to say, than when he arrived, and now he could not 
 ' expect to feel any superior, nor many equal, till,' says he, 
 ' I have the happiness of seeing you again.' Alas ! Provi- 
 dence spared the Irish people the pleasure of seeing him 
 once more. 
 
 When he was about to embark, Daniel O'Connell, followed 
 by a deputation of ten gentlemen, arrived, and, going down 
 on their loyal knees on the pier, presented this modern 
 Csesar, in hessians and a little foraging-cap, with a laurel 
 crown. The King graciously raised up Daniel, shook hands 
 with him, and paid him a compliment. Some time after, 
 when the Liberator attended one of His Majesty's levees, 
 royalty ungraciously turned its broad back on him, and took 
 no notice of him, beyond muttering to its next neighbour, 
 ' Damn the fellow ! what does he come here for ?' 
 
 Shortly after his return from Ireland, His Majesty visited 
 his faithful Hanoverian subjects, and finally permitted the 
 light of his countenance to shine in brief splendour upon the 
 Scotch, who had remained long the enemies of the house of 
 Guelph. These visits seemed to have exhausted his love for 
 display ; when he returned from the ' land o' cakes,' he was
 
 41 6 COUR7 LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 seen by his subjects but three times in public ; once when 
 he prorogued Parliament, and twice when he visited the 
 theatres. 
 
 During the last six years of his life, the world saw him 
 not. Even his beloved Brighton, the scene of his lavish 
 expenditure and Oriental voluptuousness, was forsaken for 
 the seclusion of Windsor. Here he indulged his taste for 
 building by erecting the Chinese and fishing temples ; and 
 occasionally diverted his elegant leisure by fishing in, and 
 sailing on, the Virginia Water. This self-sought retirement 
 was, however, brightened by the presence of the Marchioness 
 of Conyngham, a woman of great attraction and easy virtue, 
 who exercised a sway over this ruler of three kingdoms 
 which lasted tell his death. She had indeed cheered his 
 stay in Ireland by her presence, the royal yacht having been 
 sent to Holyhead to convey her to Dublia 
 
 ' I never in my life,' writes Fremantle to the Marquis of 
 Buckingham, ' heard anything to equal the King's infatua- 
 tion and conduct towards Lady Conyngham. She lived 
 exclusively with him during the whole time he was in 
 Ireland at the Phcenix Park. When he went to Slane, she 
 received him dressed out as for a drawing-room. He 
 saluted her, and they then retired alone to her apart- 
 ments.' 
 
 With the beauty of an angel, the Marchioness possessed 
 the wisdom of the serpent, and moulded the mighty Sove- 
 reign in all things to her will. At her desire, Ministers rose 
 and fell ; shepherds, with a salary of some thousands per 
 annum, were appointed to govern their spiritual flocks ; 
 favourites were raised to high places, and enemies humbled 
 to the dust. Nor did her Ladyship forget what was due to 
 herself and her family. Her nominal Lord, by virtue of his 
 position as her husband, was created a Marquis ; likewise a 
 Lieutenant-General in the army ; likewise a Judge of the 
 Marshalsea Court, and of the court of the King's palace ;
 
 A DESPICABLE SCENE. 417 
 
 likewise Lord Steward of the King's household and Con- 
 stable and Lieutenant of Windsor Castle ; whilst her eldest 
 son, Lord Mount-Charles, was appointed Master of the 
 Robes to the King, salary ^"4,000, and Groom of the Bed- 
 chamber, salary ,500. She herself is said to have received 
 half a million of money from her royal slave, besides jewels 
 of exceeding great value, one of which was a large sapphire, 
 an heirloom of the Stuarts, presented by Cardinal York to 
 George III. When Regent, the King had given this to his 
 daughter, but at her death had asked it from Prince Leopold, 
 making the excuse that it was one of the Crown jewels. 
 At the King's death it was with some difficulty obtained 
 from the Marchioness, whose attractive person it had long 
 adorned. 
 
 ' The King,' writes Charles Greville, Clerk of the Privy 
 Council, 'continues to heap all kinds of presents upon Lady 
 Conyngham, and she lives at his expense ; they do not 
 possess a servant ; even Lord Conyngham's valet de chambre 
 is not properly their servant. They all have situations in 
 the King's household, from which they receive their pay, 
 while they continue in the service of the Conynghams. 
 They dine every day while in London at St. James's, and, 
 when they give a dinner, it is cooked at St. James's and 
 brought up to Hamilton Place in hackney-coaches, and in 
 machines made expressly for the purpose ; there is merely a 
 fire lit in their kitchen for such things as must be heated on 
 the spot. A more despicable scene cannot be exhibited 
 than that which the interior of our Court presents every 
 base, low, and unmanly propensity, with selfishness, avarice, 
 and a life of petty intrigue and mystery.' The same authority 
 tells us that, during the King's last illness, ' waggons were 
 loaded every night and sent away from the Castle, but what 
 their contents were, was not known.' 
 
 Watchful and jealous of the position she held, avaricious 
 and far-seeing, it became her policy to exclude the outer 
 
 ** 27
 
 418 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 world as far as possible from his sybaritic Majesty, and keep 
 him bound in the chains of her evil fascinations, within that 
 charmed circle over which she held absolute sway. She 
 carried out her project with such skill, that in a short time 
 the royal voluptuary completely immured himself within the 
 walls of Windsor Castle, and his people knew him but by 
 name t So strict a watch did she keep over him that, accord- 
 ing to Lord Colchester's diary, dated March, 1820, 'The 
 Chancellor told Sir T. Tyrwhitt that, since Lady Conyngham 
 was at Windsor, he had never been suffered to enter those 
 gates, except once that he was sent for when Lady Conyng- 
 ham was absent.' 
 
 From want of exercise and too free an indulgence in 
 cherry-brandy, the kingly form once padded, pinched, 
 decked in silks, satins, tawdry tinsels, and French paste, 
 until its beauty dazzled humanity became unwieldy ; and 
 the royal countenance, once bewigged and bepowdered so 
 beautifully that its mere glance was rapture, its smile intoxi- 
 cation, now grew terribly bloated. Therefore, his vain but 
 sacred Majesty, who feared ridicule more than aught else in 
 life, grew sorely sensitive to the gaze of all eyes, and shunned 
 them as much as possible, because, as the Duke of Welling- 
 ton told Charles Greville, ' he is afraid of the jokes that may 
 be cut on his person.' When he fished in the Virginia 
 Water, or visited the gimcrack temples he had erected, the 
 only person allowed to accompany him was his beloved 
 Marchioness ; and when he honoured the menagerie at the 
 lodge with his presence, strict orders were given that no one 
 was to be admitted. When he went out in his pony-chaise, 
 if any persons were seen on the road in the park, the ponies' 
 heads were turned sharply round, and His Majesty drove in 
 a contrary direction, to escape even the casual glances of hi^ 
 subjects. The Reverend George Croly tells us that the 
 Monarch seldom rode in the long walk from the Castle, 
 because he feared to meet the Windsor people on his way
 
 MORE AND MORE ECCENTRIC. 419 
 
 to Frogmore. ' His most private way,' he continues, ' was 
 through a small gate in the Park wall, opposite another small 
 gate in the walls of the grounds at Frogmore, at the Datchet 
 side. He there crossed the road in a moment, and had 
 rides so arranged between Frogmore and Virginia Water 
 that he had between twenty and thirty miles of neatly- 
 planted avenues, from which the public were wholly ex- 
 cluded. At certain points of these rides which open towards 
 the public thoroughfares of the Park, there were always ser- 
 vants stationed on these occasions to prevent the intrusion 
 of strangers upon the King's privacy.' 
 
 The irreverent gaze of workmen continually employed 
 in making repairs and alterations at Windsor soon became 
 more than he could brook, and sent him into towering 
 passions. One day, when Captain Gronow called at the royal 
 residence on Sir Benjamin Bloomfield, they were suddenly 
 surprised by the entrance of His Majesty, who, in a royal 
 rage, without any ceremony, shouted out, ' I will not allow 
 those maid-servants to look at me when I go in and out ; 
 and if I find they do so again I will have them discharged.' 
 ' I could hardly believe my ears,' says the captain, ' that a 
 man born to the highest rank could take umbrage at such 
 pardonable curiosity. But while riding in Hyde Park the 
 next day, I was joined by General Baylie, who told me that 
 the King constantly complained of the servants staring at 
 him, and that strict orders had been given to discharge any- 
 one caught repeating the offence.' 
 
 The older he grew, the more eccentric His Majesty 
 became, and the more extraordinary his mode of life. The 
 suite of rooms he inhabited he caused to be artificially heated 
 until they were overpowering to all who entered them. 
 About seven in the morning the window-curtains of his bed- 
 room were opened, yet he, during the last years of his 
 life, never rose till six o'clock in the evening, though being 
 at the same time perfectly well in health. Here, lying in 
 
 27 2
 
 420 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 bed, he breakfasted, and during the day he drank many 
 glasses of his favourite cherry-brandy, read such letters as 
 were delivered to him, received such visitors as were per- 
 mitted him ; the Marchioness and her noble family being 
 regularly amongst the number. He delighted to keep 
 those who came to see him on business of State waiting 
 for hours in an antechamber, whilst he ' cut his coarse 
 jokes with all the coarse merriment which is his charac- 
 teristic ' with the pages and menials around him ; or lis- 
 tened to all the gossip and scandal which his surgeon, 
 O'Reilly, could tell him, His Majesty being ' the greatest 
 master of gossip in the world,' whose ' curiosity about 
 everybody's affairs is insatiable.' When the surgeon had 
 duly discharged his budget and turned his back, his royal 
 master confided his opinion to the pages that O'Reilly was 
 'the damndist liar in the world.' 
 
 At six o'clock this King, by the grace of God, rose, and 
 allowed himself to be dressed ; then visited his beloved 
 Marchioness in her apartments for an hour, after which he 
 dined, principally on vegetables and pastry, of which he was 
 excessively fond. 
 
 ' His conduct,' says Captain Gronow, ' from being that of 
 a sensual, greedy old man, became that of a spoilt child ; 
 and the way he spent his time was frivolous in the extreme. 
 He was very fond of punch, made from a recipe by his 
 ma'itre d'hotd, Mr. Maddison, and which he drank after 
 dinner ; this was the only time he was agreeable, and on 
 these occasions he would sing songs, relate anecdotes of his 
 youth, and play on the violoncello ; afterwards going to bed 
 in "a comfortable state." But, though he retired in this 
 condition, his sleep was short and restless ; he rang the bell 
 forty times during the night, and tossed about wearily until 
 morning, when the same daily programme was gone through. 
 The Duke of Wellington told Mr. Raikes that, when the 
 King sent for him to form a new Administration, in 1828, he
 
 DIRTY IN PRIVATE. 421 
 
 found His Majesty ' dressed,' said the Duke, c in a dirty silk 
 jacket and a turban night-cap, one as greasy as the other ; 
 for, notwithstanding his coquetry about dress in public, he 
 was extremely slovenly and dirty in private. The first words 
 he said to me were, " Arthur, the Cabinet is defunct ": and 
 then he began to describe the manner in which the late 
 Ministers had taken leave of him in giving in their resig- 
 nations. This was accompanied by the most ludicrous 
 mimicry of the voice and manner of each individual, so 
 strikingly like, that it was quite impossible to refrain from fits 
 of laughter.' 
 
 Mimicry was indeed a thing in which he excelled, and 
 which afforded him vast amusement. By the exercise of 
 this talent he gained considerable applause when he, lying 
 in bed, gave some capital imitations of his stud-groom, Jack 
 Radford, for the benefit of his valet de chambre and his pages. 
 His hallucinations were also remarkable, but took a more 
 amusing turn than those of his late father. When he had 
 dined, and had become garrulous, he was wont to tell those 
 around him, including the Duke of Wellington, of the Battle 
 of Waterloo. He had so often dressed himself in the uniform 
 of a field-marshal, that at last he came to believe himself a 
 man of right valiant deeds, and spoke of the manner in 
 which he had charged the French with the Household 
 Brigade. On one occasion he told the Iron Duke that he, 
 the King, had 'completely bowled over the French cavalry 
 commanded by Marshal Ney.' The Duke listened to him 
 with the patience due to royalty, and, when he had finished 
 his foolish speech, replied : 
 
 ' I have heard you, sir, say so before ; but I did not wit- 
 ness this marvellous charge. You must know that the French 
 cavalry are the best in Europe.' 
 
 The idea of having, by his great achievements in this 
 famous battle-field, overthrown Napo'eon, and given peace 
 to Europe, was one which had haunted him for years,
 
 422 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 Sheridan, who had once heard him make this boast, said, 
 when he had quitted his presence, 'That is well enough, 
 but what he particularly piques himself upon is the last 
 productive harvest.' On another occasion the King said he 
 remembered old Lord Chesterfield, the polite letter-writer. 
 The famous Earl, His Majesty declared, had said to him, 
 ' " Sir, you are the fourth Prince of Wales I have known, 
 and I must give your Royal Highness one piece of advice 
 stick to your father ; as long as you adhere to your father, 
 you will be a great and a happy man, but, if you separate 
 yourself from him, you will be nothing, and an unhappy 
 one ;" and, by God,' added the King, ' I never forgot that 
 advice, and acted upon it all my life.' 
 
 ' We all,' said the Duke of Wellington, who told the story, 
 'looked at one another with astonishment.' 
 
 No wonder they looked at each other, remembering the 
 shameful conduct of the King to his father, and their dis- 
 graceful quarrels. But His Majesty went still further with his 
 delusions, and told his friends that the late King who had 
 feared and detested his eldest born, and had thanked God that 
 of all his sons his heir alone was a coward said to him, 
 ' Of all the men I have ever known, you are the one on whom 
 I have the greatest dependence ; and you are the most per- 
 fect gentleman.' 
 
 Towards the last years of his life, he was threatened with 
 loss of sight. 
 
 ' He is in a great fright,' writes Charles Greville, 'with his 
 father's fate before him, that he will become blind and mad 
 too ; he is already a little of both.' 
 
 It was also reported that he suffered from gout in the 
 knee, but Fremantle, now made treasurer to His Majesty's 
 household, writes to a friend : 
 
 ' I rather suspect it is more in the mind, the disease, than 
 in the knee.' 
 
 So his useless, burdensome life, voluptuous and petty,
 
 FRIENDLESS AT THE LAST. 423 
 
 magnificent and mean to the last, passed on, and in May, 
 1830, prayers were offered to heaven in the churches all 
 over the land that God in His wisdom and justice might 
 spare this august Monarch to his people ; it being quite well 
 understood at the same time that his life could not possibly 
 last many months. He suffered from gout, affection of the 
 heart, and dropsy, but he had no apprehensions of his own 
 death, nor even of his immediate danger, and his physicians, 
 being thorough courtiers, up to this time withheld from 
 shocking his royal nerves by insinuating that anything so 
 natural as death could approach him. In these his last 
 days he was friendless, and would have been alone save for 
 his paid sycophants. All his life he had posed as a fine 
 gentleman, and had found many to believe him such ; he 
 had dressed himself in gaudy stuffs, had worn five thousand 
 steel beads on his hat, and had invented a new buckle for 
 his shoes : his bows outrivalled those of his French dancing- 
 master, his smiles were pronounced irresistible, his deport- 
 ment grace itself; but behind this outward show all was 
 false ; the puppet, perfect in its dress and movements, was 
 stuffed with bran, and there was no trace of heart, honour, 
 or manhood to be found in its composition. He lied to and 
 deceived men ; he flattered and ruined women j was insincere 
 to his friends ; cajoled and cheated his creditors ; hated and 
 imposed on his Ministers ; and burdened his people in the 
 days of commercial depression by boundless extravagance. 
 With prize-fighters,* jockeys, tailors, and money-lenders he 
 was familiar ; but the petty German pride he inherited never 
 permitted him to be friendly with his aristocracy. Such he 
 had been through life, and, now that his last days had come, 
 none were found to regret his inevitable death. 
 
 On the night of June 25, 1830, having paid his accusto- 
 mary visit to the Marchioness, he retired to bed, without 
 feeling any symptoms of illness, but at two o'clock he
 
 42,'. COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 suddenly awoke in great agitation, and called out for assist- 
 ance. Sir Wathen Waller was soon by his bedside, and 
 raised him up. 
 
 'They have deceived me,' he whispered fearfully, his 
 bloated face wild from terror, his whole frame quivering ; 
 then came the terrible cry, ' O God, I am dying !' and with 
 one short gasp he fell back dead. 
 
 An immense and costly wardrobe, which he left behind, 
 is said to have been sufficiently various and splendid for 
 Drury Lane Theatre. It contained utaiforms of every sort, 
 the costumes of all the orders in Europe, magnificent furs, 
 pelisses, hunting coats, and breeches without number. ' His 
 profusion,' says Greville, ' in these articles was unbounded, 
 because he never paid for them, and his memory was so 
 accurate that ene of his pages told me he recollected every 
 article of dress, no matter how old, and that they were 
 always liable to be called on to produce some particular 
 coat or other article of apparel of years gone by.' He had 
 long enjoyed, and was proud of, the distinction of being the 
 best-\vigged prince in Christendom and the best-dressed 
 man in Europe ; but the attainment of such honours was 
 costly to the nation. 
 
 1 Incredible as it may appear,' writes Mr. Raikes, ' I have 
 been told by those about him, and by Bachelor, who 
 entered his service as valet de chambre, that a plain coat, 
 from its repeated alterations, would often cost ^"300 before 
 it met his approbation. This, of course, included the 
 several journeys of the master and his men backwards and 
 forwards to Windsor, as they almost lived on the road.' 
 
 His effects included the finest collection of snuff-boxes in 
 England ; he seemed to have had a passion for them, and 
 in the early days of the Regency he had called on the 
 Government to pay the sum of ,22,500 for these articles, 
 which he had presented to foreign ministers during the
 
 FUNERAL OF GEORGE IV. 425 
 
 previous thirty months. His belongings also contained 
 three hundred whips, canes of all shapes and sizes, a vast 
 number of wigs, five hundred pocket-books of different 
 dates, and in every one of them money; gold was also 
 found scattered through all his boxes, the whole sum of 
 which amounted to ,10,000. There were other things, 
 too, in the strange collection which told a sad tale of the 
 useless, profligate, flippant life of the owner ; among them a 
 vast quantity of women's hair, of all colours and lengths, 
 some locks having the powder and pomatum yet sticking to 
 them ; also a heap of women's gloves, gages d~'amour, with 
 the perspiration still marked on the fingers ; a quantity of 
 trinkets, many of which were discovered to be mere showy, 
 useless trash, for the most valtable had been already 
 secured by Lady Conyngham, those in her possession being 
 estimated to be worth ^80,000 ; and, finally, notes and 
 letters in abundance. 
 
 The King was dead, but there was no sign of mourning 
 in the royal household, nor did the nation mourn. His 
 next brother, the Duke of York, having also passed away, 
 His Royal Highness of Clarence was proclaimed King, and 
 the world went on its way as usual ; then came the day 
 appointed for the committal of his late Majesty into kindred 
 dust. 
 
 'The funeral of George IV.,' says Huish, 'was a positive 
 jubilee. Crowds hastened to witness the pageantry of the 
 spectacle ; but not on a single countenance was observed an 
 expression of grief. The Park was thronged with joyous 
 parties, and shouts of revelry and mirth were interrupted 
 only by the firing of the minute-gun, of the rolling of the 
 carriages conveying the mourners to the ceremony. Under 
 one tree was heard the glee of " When Arthur first at Court 
 began," and at another, " A merry King, and a merry King, 
 and a right merry King was he "; whilst in the streets of the
 
 426 COURT LIFE BELOW STAIRS. 
 
 town, in the immediate vicinity of the Castle where lay, in 
 all the magnificence of royalty, and all the littleness and 
 insignificance of humanity, the putrefying remains of 
 England's Sovereign defunct a kind of fair was held, where 
 the life and portrait of the late King of blessed memory were 
 to be had for one penny; and the amours of the Mar- 
 chioness of Conyngham, as a necessary appendix, for a penny 
 also. It was intended to be a holy-day, but it was a genuine 
 bona-fide holiday.' 
 
 The evidence of Charles Greville, who was also present, 
 may be added : 
 
 ' The ceremony, 1 he writes, ' was very well managed, and 
 a fine sight, the military part particularly, and the Guards 
 were magnificent The attendance was not very numerous, 
 and, when they had all got together in St. George's Hall, a 
 gayer company I never beheld ; they were all as merry as 
 grigs. The King was chief mourner, and to my astonish- 
 ment, as he entered the chapel directly behind the body, in 
 a situation in which he should have been apparently, if not 
 really, absorbed in the melancholy duty he was performing, 
 he darted up to Strathallan, who was ranged on one side 
 below the Dean's stall, shook him heartily by the hand, and 
 then went on nodding to the right and left.' 
 
 So passed away a King who, by the many vices of his 
 character, earned the detestation of his people. 
 
 ' He was, indeed,' said the Duke of Wellington, ' the most 
 extraordinary compound of talent, wit, buffoonery, obstinacy, 
 and good feeling that I ever saw in any character in my life;' 
 while Greville, who also knew him, writes : ' The littleness of 
 his character prevents his displaying the dangerous faults that 
 belong to great minds, but with vices and weaknesses of the 
 lowest and most contemptible order, it would be difficult to 
 find a disposition more abundantly furnished ... a more 
 contemptible, cowardly, selfish, unfeeling dog does not exist
 
 SUPERBLY FILTHY AND FASTIDIOUS. 427 
 
 than this King on whom such flattery is constantly lavished.' 
 Praed has written his epitaph in graphic lines : 
 
 ' A noble, nasty course he ran, 
 Superbly filthy and fastidious ; 
 He was the world's first gentleman, 
 And made the appellation hideous.' 
 
 THE END. 
 
 OILBEBT AND RIVINQTON, LD., 31. JOHN'S HOUSE, CLKKKENWELL, LONDON.