CHAPTER X

i178From a print dated 1762THE KITCHEN METAMORPHOZ'D

From a print dated 1762

THE KITCHEN METAMORPHOZ'D

The fact of the matter was the King was not possessed of those qualities that make for popularity. At times he showed a certain graciousness, as when at some watering-place where he went with the Queen, "We must walk about for two or three days to please these good people," hesaid, alluding to the crowds that assembled to see him, "and thenwe may walk about to please ourselves." Indeed, on the afternoons of Sundays and royal birthdays when the Court was at Windsor and the weather was fine, the King and Queen with their family walked on the Terrace, which was usually crowded with people of rank and fashion, and made so pretty a picture that many came from London to see the sight. In the country George was affable, especially with humble folk. At Weymouth he passed a field where, although it was harvest time, only one woman was at work, and, surprised by this neglect of work, he asked where were the other labourers. The woman said they had gone to see the King, and added: "I would not give a pin to see him. Besides, the fools will lose a day's work by it, and that is more than I can afford to do. I have five children to work for." "Well, then," said his Majesty, putting some money in her hands, "you may tell your companions who are gone to see the King, that theKing came to see you."[189]Occasionally he would pay a compliment, as on one occasion at a review at Winchester when David Garrick, having dismounted and lost his horse, which, alarmed by the noise, had broken away, exclaimed, "A horse! a horse! my kingdomfor a horse," the King turned round, "I thought I could not be mistaken, Mr. Garrick," he said, "your delivery of Shakespeare can never pass unnoticed."[190]More frequently, however, his remarks were tactless, as in his conversation with a Yorkshireman at alevée, "I suppose you are going back to Yorkshire, Mr. Stanhope? A very ugly county, Yorkshire!" "Oh, sir!" said Stanhope, outraged in his tenderest feelings, "we always consider Yorkshire a very picturesque county." "What, what, what!" cried the King, who evidently had not sought the soft answer that turns away anger. "A coal-pit a picturesque object! What, what, what! Yorkshire coalpits, picturesque! Yorkshire a picturesque county!"[191]

Yet, though George neither as lad nor man possessed wit, at times he gave proofs of an unexpected vein of humour. Thus, when he inquired who was the owner of a newly erected palatial house, and was told it had been built by his Majesty's card-maker, "Indeed," quoth he, "then this man's cards have all turned up trumps." On another occasion when he had purchased a horse, the dealer handed him a large piece of parchment with the remark, "The animal's pedigree, Sire." "No, no," said the monarch, handing it back. "Keepit, my good man, 'twill do as well for the next horse you sell," which shows more knowledge of the world than is usually accredited to the speaker. One day Colonel Manners, who was in high favour at Court, sought an interview. "Let him in," the King replied, "he is not only Manners, but good manners." When at the end of March, 1781, Lord Bateman waited on him to ask at what hour his Majesty would have the stag-hounds turned out, "My Lord, I cannot exactly answer that," he replied, having just bestowed the Mastership on the Marquis of Carnarvon,[192]"but I can inform you that your Lordship was turned out an hour ago." More amusing is the message he sent to a Jacobite who would not take the oath of allegiance or acknowledge him as King of England—"Carry my compliments to him—but—what—stop—no—he may perhaps not receive my compliments as King of England. Give him the Elector of Hanover's compliments, and tell him that he respects the steadiness of his principles."

When Lord Chief Baron Macdonald, a great snuff-taker, and Mr. Baron Graham, an inveterate talker, were sitting in the Westminster court, "The Court of Exchequer," remarked the King, "has a snuffbox at one end and a chatterbox at theother."[193]To Lord Kenyon, a very violent-tempered man, he said: "My Lord, I hear that since you have been in the King's Bench, you havelost your temper. You know my great regard for you, and I may therefore venture to tell you I am glad to hear it."[194]Humorous, too, was his remark,à proposof George Selwyn's love of horrors. Selwyn was present at alevée, and withdrew after George had spoken to him, although it was known the monarch was to confer the honour of knighthood upon a country squire who had come to Court to present an Address. "The King afterwards, in the closet, expressed his astonishment to the Groom-in-Waiting," wrote Storer to Lord Auckland, "that Mr. Selwyn should not wish to see the ceremony of making a new knight, observing that it looked so like anexecutionthat he took it for granted Mr. Selwyn would have stayed to see it."[195]

Anamusing incident has also been related by Colonel Landmann when George III was at Weymouth. "The King had taken off one of his military white gloves, and in dropping the ends of his sash, he also at the same time dropped the glove, upon which, not only General Garth, but several others nearest to the King, scrambled for the glove on the ground, in order to mark their zeal and attention to his Majesty; but the King, desirous of recovering his fallen glove without having to thank any one for it, or perhaps wishing to display his activity, also attempted to seize it, in which he succeeded. On rising, the King's cane slipped from his hold, and again the King was the successful candidate for the prize. Now the sensation which the scrambling for the glove and then for the stick had created amongst the vast concourse of spectators was increased to an uncontrollable degree by the falling off of the King's hat, for the capture of which an increased number of competitors presented themselves, whose ambition to serve his Majesty greatly retarded its restitution.

"Colonel Campbell, at length, had the good fortune to rescue this from the hands of two members of the King's household, who were struggling with each other for victory; whilst the King, holding out his hands for his property, hisface, in consequence of his stooping, as red as his coat, exclaimed: 'Never mind about the honour of the thing, never mind, never mind; give me my hat, give me my hat; there,' as the King received his hat, 'thank you—thank you all alike—you all picked it up—yes, yes,—all, all, all—you all picked it up.'

"The King, during the latter part of this contest, laughed most heartily, in which the whole of thecortègesurrounding his Majesty immediately joined, throwing off all restraint."[196]

One of the best stories concerning George III has since been told in many forms of other persons. The King and his eldest son assisted a countryman whose cart had stuck in a rut near Windsor, and, after literally putting their shoulders to the wheel, they gave him respectively half-a-guinea and a guinea. The driver was puzzled to receive a larger coin from the Prince of Wales than from the monarch, who heard of the man's perplexity, and, meeting him again some time after, explained the matter: "Friend, I find you cannot account for my son being more generous than I; but you should consider I have a large family to provide for; he is but a single man, and has nobody to provide for but himself."

Even better than this was his remark after hisrecovery in 1789, when he heard that "Old Q." had gone over to the Opposition: "For once the old jockey has run on the wrong side of the post." This occasional sense of humour was rarely carried into the domain of affairs of state, but one instance when humour and justice combined has been preserved. Picking a pocket was not a capital felony, but in those days taking anything privily from the person, of the value of one shilling, was punishable with death. George abolished for all practical purposes this absurd distinction, for when the warrant for the execution of a pickpocket was brought for his signature, he refused to sign it, declaring there was no difference between the offences. "I had always understood," said he, "that the very essence of picking a pocket was, that it should be done as much as possible without the knowledge of the party."[197]

The King had a great sense of regal dignity, and, when outraged, could administer a rebuke with an air that rendered it crushing. When Lord Kingsale, in the exercise of the privilege bestowed by King John to wear his hat in the royal presence, remained covered, not for an instant, but throughout a Court, in the presence of the King and Queen, "My Lord Kingsale," said the monarch, "you are entitled to remain covered inthe presence of your sovereign, but not in the presence of a lady." Again, when Addington quarrelled with Pitt, he went to surrender the key of the Council box that he held as Lord President of the Council, but the King declined angrily to receive it: "You must not give it to me, but to Lord Hawkesbury"; and when the retiring minister begged to be excused on the ground that Lord Hawkesbury and he were not on speaking terms, "that," said George, "was no concern of his."

George III took himself with the greatest seriousness, not only in matters of importance, but also in the most trivial details of ceremony, and when any change in etiquette was mooted, met the suggestion with the stereotyped reply, "I will have no innovations in my time." He could not bring himself ever to unbend even with ministers who were brought into daily contact with him, and during the interview, however long it might be, he would stand, and so prevent the minister from taking a seat. Indeed, on one occasion when Pitt was suffering from gout, George kept him standing for two hours, though well aware of the statesman's infirmity, for two days later he said to him he hoped he had not suffered by standing so long on Monday. And Pitt was overcome by this gracious inquiry and toldhis friends, "His Majesty is the greatest courtier in the country".[198]

It was not only ministers, however, who suffered in this way, for on one occasion Mrs. Siddons, who was summoned to read a play before their Majesties, was kept on her feet until she nearly fell from fatigue.

"Ready to drop to earth, she must have sunk,But for a child that at the hardship shrunk—A littleprince, who marked her situation,Thus, pitying, pour'd a tender exclamation:'La! Mrs. Siddons is quite faint indeed,How pale! I'm sure she cannot read:She somewhat wants, her spirits to repair,And would, I'm sure, be happy in achair.'What follow'd? Why, the r-y-l pair aroseSurly enough, one fairly may suppose!And to a room adjoining made retreat,To let her, for one moment,steala seat."[199]

When George III "put on the King," Beckford said, "he was the personification of dignity," and "no man could stand before him";[200]while the impression he made on Johnson is well known. "Sir, they may talk of the King as they will,but he is the finest gentleman I have ever seen," the doctor said to Barnard, the librarian; and supplemented this to Langton: "Sir, his manners are those of as fine a gentleman as we may suppose Louis the Fourteenth or Charles the Second."[201]This regal dignity was, however, not always sustained in private. "The oscillations of his body, the precipitations of his questions, none of which, it was said, would wait for an answer, and the hurry of his articulation"[202]were so many faults; and the famous "What? what?" with which he concluded his sentences were irritating to a degree. "His Majesty is multifarious in his questions," said Johnson, "but thank God he answers them all himself." The King was no fool, however, and, as Wraxall was at pains to point out, "his understanding, solid and sedate, qualified him admirably for business," though it was neither of a brilliant nor imposing description; but he had in him a great vein of folly.

Now, the dignity of a foolish man usually furnishes fit subject for mirth, and the King's reputation for stupidity, which originated in his early years, grew confirmed as time went on. No story, however seemingly absurd, was rejected as untrueby his loyal subjects, who, perhaps, found their greatest pleasure in this direction, in the well-known anecdote of the King and the apple dumpling.

"Once upon a time, a monarch, tired with whooping,Whipping and spurring,Happy in worryingA poor defenceless, harmless buck(The horse and rider wet as muck),From his high consequence and wisdom stooping,Enter'd, through curiosity, a cot.Where sat a poor old woman and her pot."The wrinkled, blear-ey'd, good, old granny,In this same cot, illum'd by many a cranny,Had finish'd apple dumplings for her pot:In tempting row the naked dumplings lay,When, lo! the monarch, in his usual way,Like lightning spoke, 'What's this? what's this? what? what?'"Then taking up a dumpling in his hand,His eyes with admiration did expand—And oft did Majesty the dumpling grapple:''Tis monstrous, monstrous hard, indeed,' he cried:'What makes it, pray, so hard?'—The dame reply'd,Low curtseying, 'Please, your Majesty, the apple.'"'Very astonishing, indeed! strange thing!'(Turning the dumpling round, rejoin'd the King).''Tis most extraordinary then, all this is,It beats Piretti's conjuring all to pieces,Strange I should never of a dumpling dream,But, goody, tell me where, where, where's the seam?'"'Sir, there's no seam,' quoth she, 'I never knew[Pg 190]That folks did apple dumplingssew'—'No,' cry'd the staring monarch with a grin,'How, how the devil got the apple in?'"On which the dame the curious scheme revealedBy which the apple lay so sly concealed;Which made the Solomon of Britain start:Who to the Palace with full steam repaired,And Queen and Princesses so beauteous scared,All with the wonders of the Dumpling Art."There did he labour one whole week, to showThe wisdom of an Apple-Dumpling maker:And, lo! so deep was Majesty in dough,The Palace seemed the lodging of a Baker."[203]

"The wrinkled, blear-ey'd, good, old granny,In this same cot, illum'd by many a cranny,Had finish'd apple dumplings for her pot:In tempting row the naked dumplings lay,When, lo! the monarch, in his usual way,Like lightning spoke, 'What's this? what's this? what? what?'

"Then taking up a dumpling in his hand,His eyes with admiration did expand—And oft did Majesty the dumpling grapple:''Tis monstrous, monstrous hard, indeed,' he cried:'What makes it, pray, so hard?'—The dame reply'd,Low curtseying, 'Please, your Majesty, the apple.'

"'Very astonishing, indeed! strange thing!'(Turning the dumpling round, rejoin'd the King).''Tis most extraordinary then, all this is,It beats Piretti's conjuring all to pieces,Strange I should never of a dumpling dream,But, goody, tell me where, where, where's the seam?'"'Sir, there's no seam,' quoth she, 'I never knew[Pg 190]That folks did apple dumplingssew'—'No,' cry'd the staring monarch with a grin,'How, how the devil got the apple in?'

"On which the dame the curious scheme revealedBy which the apple lay so sly concealed;Which made the Solomon of Britain start:Who to the Palace with full steam repaired,And Queen and Princesses so beauteous scared,All with the wonders of the Dumpling Art.

"There did he labour one whole week, to showThe wisdom of an Apple-Dumpling maker:And, lo! so deep was Majesty in dough,The Palace seemed the lodging of a Baker."[203]

The King's folly was most clearly seen in his pronouncements upon scientific questions. He had some liking for mechanics, and, it is said, directed the construction of some interesting clocks; but certainly, apart from mechanics, he was wofully ignorant, and as obstinate as he was ignorant. "Well, I suppose all your chickens are dead," he said to Beckford, alluding to the fact that his house was roofed with copper, an experiment which the King had declared must infallibly kill everything under the roof with verdigris.[204]George took an active part in the questionwhich arose about 1778, whether lightning conductors, which at this time were ordered to be placed near all the powder magazines, should have blunted or pointed ends. A great dispute was raging: Sir John Pringle, President of the Royal Society, Dr. Franklin, and many men of light and leading advocating points, a view controverted by Sir Joseph Banks and some others. It was obviously a question for scientific experts, but the King, as a wit put it, "being ratherpartialto blunt conductors," thought to put an end to the matter by giving his peremptory decision, and announcing to the world the superiority of nobs. Not content with carrying out his theory in the lightning conductors at Buckingham House, he desired Sir John Pringle to publish his belief as the opinion of the Royal Society! Of course to this amazing demand, there could be but one answer, and Sir John regretted "it was not in his power to reverse the order of nature."

i190Caricature by R. NewtonLEARNING TO MAKE APPLE DUMPLINGS

Caricature by R. Newton

LEARNING TO MAKE APPLE DUMPLINGS

For art George had some liking, thus forming an agreeable contrast to his two predecessors who detested "bainting and boetry," but unfortunately his taste was quite uninformed and his critical faculties negligible: he preferred Benjamin West to Reynolds, and Peter Pindar "wept over the hard fate of Prince Octavius and Prince Augustus,children of our Most Glorious Sovereign," whose portraits had, by royal command, been painted by West.

"Ghost of Octavius! tell the bard,And thou, Augustus, us'd sohard,Why West hath murdered you, my tender lambs?You bring to mind vile Richard's deed,Who bid your royal cousins bleed,For which the world the tyrant's mem'ry damns."West, I must own thou dost inheritSome portion of the painting spirit;But trust me—not extraordinary things—Somemerit thou must surely ownBy getting up so near the throne,And gaining whispers from the best of Kings."[205]

"West, I must own thou dost inheritSome portion of the painting spirit;But trust me—not extraordinary things—Somemerit thou must surely ownBy getting up so near the throne,And gaining whispers from the best of Kings."[205]

The King also delighted in Beattie, who was his and his consort's favourite poet.

"... Sweet Poesy exalts her voice,MacOssian sings, and Homer's halls rejoice,One lazy tenor Beattie's bag-pipe keeps,And tragic Home most lamentably weeps.The Monarch's favourites, and the Muses' too!'Whawr, Bratons, whawr's yoreWoolly Shockspare noo!'"[206]

However,to the best of his ability, George admired, and if when shown some of Blake's drawings he cried, "What—what—what! Take them away, take them away!" and if he thought Shakespeare "sad stuff," on the other hand it is to his credit that he took much interest in the foundation of the Royal Academy, and, though he did not desire that Reynolds should be President, yet he sanctioned the appointment and knighted the painter. In his respect for letters he conceived the idea to establish an Order of Minerva for eminent writers and scientists. "The knights were to take rank after the Knights of the Bath, and to sport a straw-coloured ribbon and a star of sixteen points. But there was such a row among theliteratias to the persons who should be appointed, that the plan was given up, and Minerva and her star never came down amongst us."[207]He accumulated a fine library that George IV, when he found he might not sell it, gave to the British Museum; but he was probablyentirely ignorant of his acquisitions, though he had a fondness for the exterior of books, and it is to his credit that he instructed his librarian "never to bid a farthing against a scholar, or professor, or against any person of moderate means, desiring a particular volume for his own use."[208]

George liked to think himself a patron of art and artists, but it is hinted he was not always inspired by the right motive, as when he found a place for Gibbon as a Lord of Trade:

"King George in a fright,Lest Gibbon should writeThe Hist'ry of England's disgrace,Thought no way so sureHis pen to secureAs to give the historian a place."

The royal patronage was certainly not exercised on the heroic scale. Thus, Richard Paton was commanded to bring to Kew for their Majesties' inspection naval pictures intended for St. Petersburg, and he obeyed the summons, at a cost of fifty pounds for carriage, for which he was repaid only with thanks; and it was the payment by the King of twenty-five pounds for a picture, the market price of which was four times that amount, painted by a friend of Dr. Wolcot, that brought downupon the monarch the many vigorous onslaughts by that keen though coarse satirist.[209]

On another occasion the Queen was persuaded to sit to young Thomas Lawrence. "The poor young fellow was naturally inexperienced in the ways of a Court, and the manner in which her Majesty treated him was not with her usual kind consideration. She declined to give him a last sitting for the ornaments, as it was too much trouble, but eventually was prevailed upon to allow Mrs. Papendiek to act as her deputy. No money was paid. The King told him to remove it to town, and have it engraved. When that was done, the portrait was to be sent to Hanover, and then the King proposed to pay. But Lawrence had no money, and could not risk the engraving at his own expense."[210]The picture, therefore, remained in his studio, and was sold with others after his death.

Even royalty itself was not able to induce the King to put aside his dislike of spending money, for when the Empress of Russia asked for a portrait of himself by Reynolds, the monarch, with "laudable royal economy," as the satirist put it, went, not to Reynolds, but to an inexpensive portrait-painter.

"I'm told, and I believe the story,That a fam'd Queen of Northern brutes,A gentlewoman ofprodigiousglory,Whom every sort of epithetwell suits;Whose husbanddear, just happening toprovokeher,Was shov'd to heaven upon ared-hot poker!Sent to acertainKing, not King ofFrance,Desiring by Sir Joshua's hand his phiz,What did the royal quiz?Why,damned genteelly, sat to Mr. Dance."[211]

Certainly on no occasion made public did George III ever show a royal generosity. He saved his old master, Goupy, from a debtor's prison, and appointed his fencing master Redman, who had fallen upon evil days, a Poor Knight of Windsor; he released a man who had been imprisoned twelve years in Dorchester Jail for a debt of £100 by paying that amount; and one day, having taken shelter in a cottage where a joint was suspended before the fire by a string, he left two guineas behind him to "buy a jack."

"I never considered the King as munificent," Lord Carlisle remarked; "when he gave the kettledrums costing £1,500 to the Blues, he was deranged. Before his illness he stopped all the hunt to give an old man something for opening a gate at Bray Wick: after a long search for his purse he produced from it a penny and bestowed it on the man. He gave afêtein the Castle to all the Eton schoolboys. It consisted of a very long concert of sacred music with nothing to eat or drink."[212]

i196From an old printTHE KING RELIEVING PRISONERS IN DORCHESTER GAOL

From an old print

THE KING RELIEVING PRISONERS IN DORCHESTER GAOL

It was not so much that George III was not good-natured, but that he lacked the imagination that might have assisted him to a more worthy generosity. He could never divest himself of a care for trifling sums of money, and while he would authorize, nay encourage, the spending of millions to further some matter upon which he had set his heart, he would sit at home and work out the cost of his son's household to a halfpenny,[213]and take great care that his agricultural hobby should showa balance on the right side, which last consideration aroused again and again the ire of Peter Pindar.

"The modern bard, quoth Tom, sublimely singsOf sharp and prudent economic kings,Who rams, and ewes, and lambs, and bullocks feed.And pigs of every sort of breed:"Of Kings who pride themselves on fruitful sows;Who sell skim milk, and keep a guard so stoutTo drive the geese, the thievish rascals, out,That ev'ry morning us'd to suck the cows;"Of Kings who cabbages and carrots plantFor such as wholesome vegetables want;Who feed, too, poultry for the people's sake,Then send it through the villages in carts,To cheer (how wondrous kind!) the hungry heartsOf such asonly payfor what they take."[214]

"The modern bard, quoth Tom, sublimely singsOf sharp and prudent economic kings,Who rams, and ewes, and lambs, and bullocks feed.And pigs of every sort of breed:

"Of Kings who pride themselves on fruitful sows;Who sell skim milk, and keep a guard so stoutTo drive the geese, the thievish rascals, out,That ev'ry morning us'd to suck the cows;

"Of Kings who cabbages and carrots plantFor such as wholesome vegetables want;Who feed, too, poultry for the people's sake,Then send it through the villages in carts,To cheer (how wondrous kind!) the hungry heartsOf such asonly payfor what they take."[214]

i198From a drawing by Isaac Cruikshank, 1791SUMMER AMUSEMENTS AT FARMER GEORGE'S

From a drawing by Isaac Cruikshank, 1791

SUMMER AMUSEMENTS AT FARMER GEORGE'S

The reason for the unpopularity of the Court may be traced, not to the King's lack of appreciation of what was best in art and letters, not even to his stupidity, but to the lack of wisdom in the sovereigns who, in their zeal for reform, carried their love of decorum to excess (although the Queen's Puritanism was not so deep but that she could for her own ends aid and abet such a frail, designing baggage as Lady Jersey[215]), and to a parsimony unpardonable when exercised in conjunction witha large Civil List.[216]Their miserly tendencies were noted and commented upon with disgust at the Queen's first party, given on November 26, 1762, a "gingerbread affair," which, including the ladies-and-gentlemen-in-waiting, did not consist of more than a baker's dozen of couples. On this occasion, though dancing began before seven o'clock and went on uninterrupted till long after midnight, there was no supper, an omission that furnished Lord Chesterfield with the opportunity for abon-motin a subsequent conversation as to possible additions to the peerage on the King's next birthday. "I suppose," said some one, "there will be no dukes made." "Oh, yes," said Lord Chesterfield, "there is to beone. Lord Talbot is to be created Duke Humphrey, and there is to be no table kept at Court but his!" Those whoattended the royal functions fully appreciated this reference to "dining with Duke Humphrey"; and Peter Pindar voiced the public feeling in his "Odes to Kien Long":

"The pocket is a very serious matter,Small beerallayeth thirst—nay,simple water.The splendour of a chase, or feast, or ball,Though strong, are passing momentary rays—The lustre of a little hour; that's all—Whileguineaswitheternalsplendour blaze."

The lack of hospitality shown to those who attended at Court was combined with an equal penury in connexion with those who were summoned to amuse the royal circle, and of some disgraceful examples of this unroyal miserliness Peter Pindar again is the historian.

"For, not long since, I heard a forward dameThus, in a tone of impudence, exclaim,Good God! how kings and queens a song adore!With what delight they order anencore!When that same song,encor'd, fornothingflows!This Madam Mara to her sorrow knows!To Windsor oft, and eke to Kew,The r-y-l mandate Mara drew.No cheering drop the dame was asked to sip—No bread was offer'd to her quivering lip:Though faint, she was not suffer'd to sit down—Such was thegoodness—grandeur of the crown.Now tell me, will it ever be believ'd,How much for song and chaise-hire she receiv'd?[Pg 201]How much pray, think ye? Fifty guineas. 'No.'Most surely forty. 'No, no.' Thirty. 'Poh!Pray, guess in reason, come again!'—Alas! you jeer us!—twenty at the least;No man could ever be so great a b—stAs not to give her twenty for her pain.—'To keep you, then, no longer in suspense,For Mara's chaise-hire and unrivall'd note,Out of theirwonderfulbenevolence,Their bounteous M——ies gave—not a groat.'"[217]

The pecuniary treatment accorded to Madame Mara was meted out also to Mrs. Siddons, who, appointed preceptress in English reading to the Princesses, but without salary,[218]was summoned frequently to read or recite at Court, and came out of the palace "as rich as she went in."

"Such are the stories twain! Why, grant the fact,Areprinces, pray, likecommon folksto act?Should Mara call it cruelty, and blameSuch r-y-l conduct, I'd cry, Fie upon her!To Mrs. Siddons freely say the same,Sufficient forsuch peopleis thehonour."[219]

THE PRIVATE LIFE OF THE KING AND QUEEN

Shortly after his marriage the King sought a residence where he and his consort should live more free from the ceremony and restraint of court life than was possible at St. James's. Kensington Palace he thought too near the metropolis, and he disliked the "stately, unvaried flatness" of Hampton Court. He did, indeed, invite "Capability" Brown to reorganise the artificial grounds of the latter palace, but that despotic gardener declined, "out of respect for himself and his profession," to do anything more than advise that the trees should be allowed to grow in their natural way.[220]George determined to purchase a mansion and with the Queen inspected WansteadHouse, which delighted him. "It is well, Charlotte, you did not stop here on your way to the palace," he said, "for that would have been thought a mean residence after seeing this elegant mansion." However, the many charms of the Essex house were found to be more than counterbalanced by the distance from town and the necessity to pass through the City to reach it; and eventually the King purchased Buckingham House from Sir John Sheffield for £21,000, and subsequently contrived to persuade Parliament to settle this on the Queen in exchange for Somerset House.[221]

i202From an engraving by W. Knight after a drawing by E. DayesBUCKINGHAM HOUSE

From an engraving by W. Knight after a drawing by E. Dayes

BUCKINGHAM HOUSE

Preparations were made at once to equip the building for its royal occupiers, and Walpole in 1762 noted that, "The King and Queen are stripping the other palaces to furnish it. In short,they have already fetched pictures from Hampton Court, which indicates their never living there; consequently Strawberry Hill will remain in possession of its own tranquillity, and not become a cheese-cake house to the palace. All I ask of princes is not to live within five miles of me." In June, 1762, the sovereigns took up their residence at the "Queen's House," as it was called henceforth, and on the 6th inst. gave a house warming, "for which a most elegant entertainment was planned—a concert, a ball, the gardens to be illuminated, suppers, bands of music, the whole of a magnificent description, under the direction, principally, of Mr. Kuffe, a German, and general invitations to the nobility were to be issued."[222]There, when in London, the King and Queen lived in the strictest privacy, and never went to St. James's but to holdlevéesand drawing-rooms.

The King's love of rural scenery made him spend as much time as possible in the country, and he migrated to Richmond Lodge regularly in the middle of May, returning for the week in which his birthday fell. There he made many improvements, and when the Lodge was found too small to accommodate the increasing family, he discussed plans for a new palace, to be erected close by, with Sir William Chambers.

"Sir William, cover'd with Chinese renown,Whose Houses are no soonerupthandown,Don't heed the discontented Nation's cry:ThinearereligiousHouses, veryhumbleUpon theirfacesinclin'd to tumble;Someekthey cannot keep their head onhigh."[223]

A model of the proposed design was made and operations begun, only to be suspended, while the ground floor was yet in course of erection, by the refusal of the authorities of the town to sell a small piece of ground essential to the scheme. Thereupon the King determined to remove to Kew, where he had spent large sums on the improvement of the gardens under the direction of Sir William Chambers, who had erected all sorts of buildings, Roman, Greek, Moresque, and Chinese.

"Be these the rural pastimes that attendGreat Brunswick's leisure: these shall best unbendHis royal mind, whene'er from state withdrawn,He treads the velvet of his Richmond lawn;These shall prolong his Asiatic dream,Tho' Europe's balance trembles on its beam."[224]

Subsequently when alterations on an extensive scale were made at Windsor Castle,[225]the people ofRichmond, realizing they were in danger of losing their royal residents altogether, offered the land they had before refused; but it was too late, and the enclosure round the abandoned palace was given over to farming.

"Soon after [the marriage] Buckingham House was purchased, and bestowed on her Majesty, St. James's not seeming a prison strict enough," Horace Walpole has written; and in this sentence may be read the key to the first years of Queen Charlotte in England, for during that period she was, indeed, little better than a prisoner, with a gaoler in the form of her duenna (who was also supposed to be a spy of the Princess Dowager) Katherine Dashwood,[226]the "Delia" of James Hammond,who had not been to Court for twenty-five years, when she was a Woman of the Bedchamber to George II's consort. "Except the Ladies of the Bedchamber[227]for half-an-hour a week in a funereal circle, or a ceremonious drawing-room, she [the Queen] never had a soul to speak to but the King," Mrs. Harcourt has recorded in her Diary. "This continued till her first child, the Prince of Wales, was born; then the nurse and governess, Lady Charlotte Finch, coming into the room was a little treat; but they had still for years no other society, till by degrees the Ladies of the Bedchamber came far more frequently, and latterly the society, for various reasons—the children growing up, the journeys, etc.—was much increased. Expecting to be Queen of a gay Court, finding herself confined in a convent, and hardly allowed to think without the leave of her husband, checked her spirits, made her fearful and cautious to an extreme, and when the time came that amusements were allowed,her mind was formed to a different manner of life." Seclusion in a dreary Court at the age of seventeen was not the way to bring out that which is best in a woman's character, and doubtless this had its effect in producing a certain bitterness and hardness that subsequently showed themselves, although some fifty years later the Queen expressed her belief that the course followed had been advisable. "I am most truly sensible of the dear King's great strictness, at my arrival in England, to prevent my making many acquaintances; for he was always used to say that, in this country, it was difficult to know how to draw a line on account of the politics of the country and that there never could be kept up a society without party, which was always dangerous for any woman to take part in, but particularly so for the royal family; and with truth do I assure you that I am not only sensible that he was right, but I feel thankful for it from the bottom of my heart."

Charlotte had hoped to bring with her some of her countrywomen, but she was allowed only to carry with her two dressers, Mrs. Haggerdorn and Mademoiselle Schwellenberg, the latter a shrewd ambitious woman who, not content to play the subordinate part imposed upon her by her office, set herself up as a mentor to the Queen, andno one was to be admitted to her Majesty's presence without having first been introduced to "Mademoiselle."[228]It would doubtless have been a surprise to "Mademoiselle" to learn that she was to achieve immortality, and her astonishment would scarcely have been pleasurable could she have read the passages in Miss Burney's Diary that have procured her that distinction. It would, however, probably have surprised her still more to know that, within a century, for one reader of the annals of the reign of George III there would be scores who eagerly turned over the pages of the journal of the little lady she treated so cavalierly. "I found [silence] equally necessary to keep off the foul fiends of Jealousy and Rivalry of my colleague," wrote Miss Burney,[229]"who, apparently, never wishes to hear my voice but when we aretête-à-têteand then never in good humour when it is at rest."

In vain an adulatory biographer of Queen Charlotte[230]has drawn a pleasant portrait of Mademoiselle Schwellenberg, in vain he states she was "a well-educated and highly accomplished woman, extremely courteous in her manner, much respected by all the domestics of the royal household,and devotedly attached to the illustrious family with whom she lived, who, in their turn, entertained for her the sincerest affection. Mademoiselle Schwellenberg had been, however, most cruelly and wantonly held up to public ridicule by a profligate wit, whose delight lay in ribaldry, as a woman of sordid disposition, than which nothing could be more opposite to her real character, for she was ever ready to oblige all who applied to her for assistance; and though, like her royal mistress, she chose to do good by stealth, her charities were very extensive." She lives for all time as Miss Burney's harsh, unsympathetic taskmaster, a stern unbending woman whose overpowering ways eventually caused the King to desire her dismissal, a fate from which she was saved only by the request of the Queen, who was very attached to her,[231]and upon her subscribing to his Majesty's conditions, that she should not resent his commands, nor influence the Queen's mind upon any subject, that she should share the labours with her companion, andinfringe upon no regulation unconnected with her immediate appointment.

These instructions the dresser accepted, and, as was only to be expected in a woman of her character, soon ignored, thereby earning the dislike of Mrs. Papendiek, of Frederick Albert, of Fanny Burney, and, of course, of "Peter Pindar," who salvoed a farewell verse when she left the country on a visit to Germany in 1789.

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