TO OSNABRÜCK!
1723–1727.
After the reconciliation of the Royal Family the Princess of Wales
resumed the place she had occupied at the King’s court in the early
days of the reign, but in a modified degree. She was restored to her
position and precedence, and she regularly attended the drawing-rooms
at St. James’s, and would make a point of addressing the King in public
and so compel him to answer her. After a while the King relented
towards her, and asked her to take the lead at ombre and quadrille,
as she used to do, and her card-table was surrounded by courtiers as
in former days. But he maintained his resentment against his son, to
whom he seldom addressed a syllable in public, and rarely received
him in private. The King’s quarrel from the first had been with the
Prince of Wales rather than with the Princess, and Caroline incurred
his displeasure only because she insisted on siding with her husband
against her father-in-law. George the First had always recognised her
character and abilities, and he knew how great her influence was over
the Prince. It was because she would not use this influence to further
the King’s ends that he disliked her, but he liked talking to her, or
rather listening to her talk, for he was a man of few words himself.
During the sermon in the Chapel Royal, he often discussed public men
and questions with her, a favour he never extended to his son. The
King was so surrounded by favourites and mistresses that the royal pew
was the only place where Caroline could be sure of an uninterrupted
conversation with him, an opportunity of which she freely availed
herself, often to the discomfiture of the preacher, for the King would
sometimes raise his voice very loud. On one of these occasions the
Princess and the King were discussing Walpole. “_Voyez quel homme_,”
said the King, “he can convert even stones into gold”; an appreciation
Caroline noted at the time, and tested later when need arose.
Walpole now carried everything before him. He was the King’s first
Minister, and enjoyed his unbounded confidence; he was practically
dictator in the Government, and his word was law in the House of
Commons. But he no longer stood high in the favour of the Prince of
Wales; he had not been able, or he had not been willing, to fulfil the
promises he had made at the reconciliation. The Prince disliked him
because his debts were still unpaid, because he was given no share in
the Regency, and because Walpole had “betrayed him,” as he said, “to
the King”. The Princess, too, owed him a grudge, because he had not
restored her children to her, and because on more than one occasion he
had spoken of her with great disrespect. In the matter of invective
Caroline, however, was able to repay the debt with interest, Walpole’s
gross bulk, coarse habits, and immoral life all lending barbs to her
satire. Despite these amenities, there was a tacit understanding
between the Princess and Walpole. Though in adverse camps each
respected the other’s qualities; Walpole saw in Caroline a woman far
above the average in intellect and ability, the tragedy of whose life
was that she was married to a fool; while the Princess needed not the
King’s recommendation to discover the great abilities of the powerful
Minister.
Though Caroline frequently pressed Walpole on the subject of her
children, he always pleaded that he could do little, the King was
inexorable, and the Princesses Anne, Amelia and Caroline remained
until the end of the reign in the King’s household under the care of
their state governess, Lady Portland. The Princess, however, gained
concessions as time went by; in addition to the free access to her
daughters at all times guaranteed at the reconciliation, they were
allowed to visit her at Leicester House and Richmond, and sometimes
to appear at the opera with her in the royal box. The enforced
separation made no difference to the affection the princesses bore to
their mother, but they gradually assimilated some of the contempt for
their father which was freely expressed at the King’s court, and in
later years they (except the gentle Caroline) often spoke of him with
disrespect.
During the next few years the Princess of Wales gave birth to three
more children, one son, William Augustus, Duke of Cumberland, at whose
birth there were great rejoicings, and who was ever his mother’s
favourite child, and two daughters, Mary and Louisa.[117] The Prince of
Wales was anxious to have another son, and when the courtiers came to
congratulate him on the birth of the Princess Louisa, he said testily,
“No matter, ’tis but a daughter”. These children were all born at
Leicester House, and remained under the care of their parents, the
King only claiming the elder children, Frederick, Duke of Gloucester,
who was still at Hanover, and the three eldest princesses. The younger
family helped Caroline to bear the separation from her elder children.
As George the First grew old his court became duller; not even Caroline
could infuse much life into it, or restore the gaiety of the early
days of the reign. Many causes contributed to this. One was the
depression brought about by the bursting of the South Sea Bubble. The
after-effects were felt for a long time, and many of the nobility, who
had lost heavily, retired to their country seats to retrench, and had
perforce to give up the pleasures of town. As Lord Berkeley wrote in
1720: “So many undone people will make London a very melancholy place
this winter. The Duke of Portland is of that number, and indeed was so
before.”[118] London continued depressed for some years. The Prince and
Princess of Wales did their best to make society a little brighter,
but they did not throw themselves into court festivities with the same
zest as of yore. They were older, their taste for pleasure had lost its
keenness, and the novelty of the first Hanoverian reign had quite worn
off.
The glory of Leicester House had to a great extent departed also;
the reconciliation robbed it of its attractiveness as a centre of
opposition, and now that the Prince and Princess went to St. James’s
again, all the royal festivities took place there. Moreover, the
courtiers who had thrown in their lot with the Prince of Wales frankly
owned themselves disappointed; in spite of all the Prince’s loud
boasting and defiance, the reconciliation was little short of an
unconditional surrender. Events clearly proved that they had overrated
his influence, and underrated the King’s power. The King had won all
along the line; he was likely to live to a green old age, perhaps
even to outlive the Prince, and the sycophants were anxious to bask in
the royal favour again and catch some sprinklings from the fountain
of honour. So they turned their backs on Leicester House, which, in
truth, was not so attractive as it had been, for it had lost some of
its brightest ornaments. The beautiful Bellenden was married, and in
the Prince’s disfavour; the fair Lepel had wedded Lord Hervey, and
retired to the country, where she occupied herself in writing tedious
letters to Mrs. Howard and others, which, though they bear witness to
the correctness of her principles, almost make one doubt the sparkling
wit with which her contemporaries have credited her. Perhaps marriage
had exercised a sobering influence, though she showed not the slightest
affection for her husband. Poor Sophia Howe was dying in obscurity of a
broken heart. The maids of honour who had taken the place of these had
not the _esprit_ and beauty of their predecessors. But the popularity
of the Princess of Wales continued unabated, and Leicester House was
always crowded at her birthday receptions. Thus in 1724 we read:--
“Sunday last, being St. David’s Day, the birthday of the Princess of
Wales, the Stewards of the Societies of Ancient Britons, established
in honour of the said anniversary, went and paid their duty to their
Royal Highnesses at Leicester House, where they had a most gracious
reception, and their Royal Highnesses were pleased to accept of the
leek. On Monday the court at Leicester House, to congratulate her
Royal Highness the Princess of Wales on her birthday, was the most
splendid and numerous that has been known, the concourse being so great
that many of the nobility could not obtain admittance and were obliged
to return without seeing the Prince and Princess. The Metropolitans
of Canterbury and York, together with most of the other bishops, met
at the Banqueting House at Whitehall, and proceeded thence in their
coaches to Leicester House. The Lord High Chancellor in his robes,
and such of the Judges as are in town, went also thither to pay their
compliments, as did most of the foreign Ministers, particularly the
Morocco Ambassador; but they who were thought to surpass all in dress
and equipage were the Duchesses of Buckingham and Richmond, the Earl
of Gainsborough and the Countess of Hertford. At one o’clock the guns
in the park proclaimed the number of her Royal Highness’s years, and
at two their Royal Highnesses went to St. James’s to pay their duty to
his Majesty, and returned to Leicester House to dinner, and at nine at
night went again to St. James’s, where there was a magnificent ball in
honour of her Royal Highness’s birthday.”[119]
In 1725 the rejoicings were if possible more general; there were
bonfires and illuminations in the principal streets of London and
Westminster, and several of the nobility illuminated their mansions.
For instance: “Monday last, the anniversary of the birthday of the
Princess of Wales was celebrated by his Grace the Duke of Leeds in a
very extraordinary manner in his house upon Mazy Hill, near Greenwich,
there being planted before his Grace’s door three pyramids, which
consisted of a great number of flambeaux, and two bonfires, one between
each pyramid, besides which the house was very finely illuminated on
the outside, the novelty of which drew a great concourse of people
to the place, where the Royal Family’s health, together with those
of the Ministers and State, were drunk with universal acclamations,
to which end wine was served to the better sort and strong beer to
the populace.”[120] In 1726 we are told: “There was the most splendid
and numerous Court at Leicester Fields that has ever been known; a
great number of ladies of quality were forced to return home without
being able to procure access to the Princess”.[121] And in 1727:
“The English at Gibraltar celebrated the 1st March, being her Royal
Highness’s birthday, in a very extraordinary manner, the ordnance of
the garrison and the men-of-war discharging vast quantities of shot at
the Spaniards, and there was also a most numerous and shining Court at
Leicester House”.[122] Certainly no such honours have been paid to any
Princess of Wales as those paid yearly to Caroline, and the record of
them shows that she succeeded in impressing her personality upon the
nation, even when she occupied a difficult and subordinate position.
The Prince and Princess of Wales had to be very careful to avoid
arousing afresh the hostility of the King. The Prince was never again
admitted to any share in the Regency, but when the King was away at
Hanover they indulged in some little extra state, which was immediately
put down on his return. At one time they contemplated a visit to Bath
for the Princess to take the waters, and thence to make a semi-state
progress through Wales, but the plan was frustrated by the King’s
jealousy. They sought to make themselves popular with all classes. We
read of their attending a concert at the Inner Temple and a ball at
Lincoln’s Inn, and on one Lord Mayor’s Day, when the civic procession
went on the Thames to Westminster by barges, the Prince and Princess
of Wales and their little son, Prince William, witnessed the show
from Somerset Gardens. “Some barges rowed up to the wall, and the
liverymen offering wine to their Royal Highnesses, they accepted the
same, and drank prosperity to the City of London, which was answered by
acclamations of joy.”[123] One year the Prince and Princess of Wales,
attended by many of their court, went to St. Bartholomew’s Fair, and
enjoyed themselves heartily among the booths and roundabouts, mingling
with the crowd, and staying there until a late hour at night.
The King did not behave generously to his daughter-in-law; all his gold
and jewels went to his mistresses, but when he came back from one of
his last visits to Hanover, he brought with him a curious specimen
of humanity, called the “wild boy,” whom he gave to the Princess.
Great curiosity was excited in Court circles by this strange present.
We read: “The wild boy, whom the King hath presented to the Princess
of Wales, taken last winter in the forest by Hamelin, walking on all
fours, running up trees like a squirrel, feeding on twigs and moss,
was last night carried into the drawing-room at St. James’s into the
presence of the King, the Royal Family and many of the nobility. He
is supposed to be about twelve or thirteen, some think fifteen, years
old, and appears to have but little idea of things. ’Twas observed that
he took most notice of his Majesty, whom he had seen before, and the
Princess giving him her glove, he tried to put it on his own hand, and
seemed much pleased with a watch which was held to strike at his ear.
They have put on him blue clothes lined with red, and red stockings,
but the wearing of them seems extremely uneasy to him. He cannot be got
to lie on a bed, but sits and sleeps in a corner of the room. The hair
of his head grows lower on the forehead than is common. He is committed
to the care of Dr. Arbuthnot, in order to try whether he can be brought
to the use of speech and made a sociable creature. He hath begun to sit
for his picture.”[124]
Caroline may possibly have had some influence with the King in
delaying the Queen of Prussia’s cherished scheme of the double
marriage. An incident also contributed to delay it. There had always
been jealousy between the Hanoverian Government and the Court of
Berlin, and a very trifling matter served to stir up bad blood. The
King of Prussia had formed a regiment of giants in which he took great
pleasure and pride. In order to get men of the necessary height and
size, he had to seek for recruits all over Europe, and his recruiting
sergeants often took them by force. King George had sent his son-in-law
some tall Hanoverians, and would have sent him some more, but when the
King was absent in England the Hanoverian Government threw difficulties
in the way. Frederick William’s recruiting sergeants, chancing to light
upon some sons of Anak in Hanoverian territory, carried them off by
force. This made a great turmoil at Hanover; the men were demanded
back, the King of Prussia refused, and the relations between Berlin
and Hanover became strained. When King George came to Hanover again,
in 1726, the King and Queen of Prussia paid him a visit, the King
to smooth matters with his father-in-law, and the Queen to settle
the details of the proposed alliance. King George, however, wished
to postpone the marriage on the ground that the parties were too
young; Wilhelmina was then only fifteen years of age, and the Duke
of Gloucester seventeen. But the Queen of Prussia pointed out that
the precocious youth had already set up a mistress of his own, and
therefore the plea of youth was unavailing. George then excused himself
on the ground that the English Parliament had not yet been consulted
about the marriage, but he gave the Queen a definite promise that, when
he came to Hanover again, the marriage should be celebrated. He never
came again--alive.
The Queen of Prussia had to be content with this promise, and she
probably felt that she could afford to wait, as she had won over to
her side the Duchess of Kendal, whose influence was all-powerful with
the King. The Duchess, who had now been created Princess of Eberstein,
enjoyed in her old age a powerful position, and she was paid court to,
not only by the Queen of Prussia, but directly or indirectly by the
most powerful monarchs of Europe. She was in correspondence with the
Emperor at Vienna, and no doubt receiving money from him on the plea
of furthering his interests, and she was in indirect communication
with the King of France. The curious correspondence between Louis
the Fifteenth and his Ambassador at the Court of St. James’s, Count
de Broglie, reveals how much importance was attached to gaining her
influence. In one of his despatches the envoy says:--
“As the Duchess of Kendal seemed to express a desire to see me often,
I have been very attentive to her; being convinced that it is highly
essential to the advantage of your Majesty’s service to be on good
terms with her, for she is closely united to the three Ministers[125]
who now govern.”[126] And again: “The King visits her every afternoon
from five till eight, and it is there that she endeavours to penetrate
the sentiments of his Britannic Majesty, for the purpose of consulting
the three Ministers, and pursuing the measures which may be thought
necessary for accomplishing their designs. She sent me word that she
was desirous of my friendship, and that I should place confidence in
her. I assured her that I would do everything in my power to merit her
esteem and friendship. I am convinced that she may be advantageously
employed in promoting your Majesty’s service, and that it will be
necessary to employ her, though I will not trust her further than is
absolutely necessary.”[127] The King of France was quite convinced that
it was necessary to gain her friendship, for he writes: “There is no
room to doubt that the Duchess of Kendal, having a great ascendency
over the King of Great Britain and maintaining a strict union with
his Ministers, must materially influence their principal resolutions.
You will neglect nothing to acquire a share of her confidence, from
a conviction that nothing can be more conducive to my interests.
There is, however, a manner of giving additional value to the marks
of confidence you bestow on her in private, by avoiding in public all
appearances which might seem too pointed; by which you will avoid
falling into the inconvenience of being suspected by those who are not
friendly to the duchess; at the same time a kind of mysteriousness in
public on the subject of your confidence, will give rise to a firm
belief of your having formed a friendship mutually sincere.”[128]
These backstair intrigues of France with the Duchess of Kendal
probably helped forward the defensive alliance which England concluded
at Hanover with France and Russia, commonly known as the Treaty of
Hanover, a treaty in which English interests were sacrificed for the
benefit of Hanover. “Thus Hanover rode triumphant on the shoulders of
England,” wrote Chesterfield of it. Yet bad as it was from the English
point of view, its provisions did not altogether satisfy the grasping
Hanoverians, and Walpole was blamed by them for not having done more
for them. Walpole had long realised that the duchess was a force to be
reckoned with. “She is in effect as much Queen of England as ever any
was,” he said of her once, and he declared the King “did everything by
her.” He soon had occasion to feel her power.
The Duchess of Kendal resented Walpole’s influence with his master. It
was a peculiarity of this strange creature that she was jealous of any
one who enjoyed the confidence of the King, were he man or woman; she
had been largely responsible for the fall of Townshend in the early
days of the reign, she had been a thorn in the side of Stanhope, and
she now directed her energies to undermining the power of Walpole. At
first she did not make any impression, for the King was fond of “_le
gros homme_,” as he called his Prime Minister. He made him a Knight
of the Bath, an order which he revived, and afterwards gave him the
Garter, the highest honour in the power of the Sovereign. He openly
declared that he would never part with him. In his favour he even broke
his rule of not admitting Englishmen to his private intercourse, and
spent many an evening with Walpole at Richmond, where he had built a
hunting lodge. He would drive down there to supper, and he and the
Prime Minister would discuss politics over a pipe, and imbibe large
bowls of punch, for they both habitually drank more than was good for
them. The Duchess of Kendal became jealous of these convivial evenings,
and bribed some of the King’s Hanoverian attendants to repeat to her
what passed, and to watch that the King did not take too much punch.
But the effort was not very successful, for the servants could not
understand what was said. Walpole could speak no German and little
French, and so he and George conversed mainly in Latin, the only
language they had in common. Walpole used afterwards to say that he
governed the kingdom by means of bad Latin.
The Duchess of Kendal gained an able ally in Bolingbroke, who had now
returned again to England, and through the influence of the duchess
had gained the restoration of his title and estates, though not his
seat in the House of Lords. “Here I am then,” he wrote to Swift,
“two-thirds restored, my person safe, and my estate, with all the
other property I have acquired or may acquire, secured to me; but the
attainder is kept carefully and prudently in force, lest so corrupt a
member should come again into the House of Lords, and his bad leaven
should sour that sweet untainted mass.” Bolingbroke now entered into
an alliance with the opposition in the House of Commons, and intrigued
with the Duchess of Kendal to oust Walpole from the King’s favour.
Had they been given time, they might have succeeded. The Duchess of
Kendal presented to the King a memorial, drawn up by Bolingbroke, on
the state of political affairs, and she persuaded him to grant the
fallen statesman a private audience. Walpole declared years later that
the King showed him the memorial, and it was at his suggestion that
George the First consented to receive Bolingbroke. During the whole
time Bolingbroke was closeted with the King, Walpole stated that he was
waiting in the ante-chamber, and when the audience was over, he asked
the King what Bolingbroke had said. The King replied indifferently:
“Bagatelles, bagatelles”. But the fact that the King, who had dismissed
Bolingbroke from office, and refused to receive him in 1714, when he
first came to England, (though that was before his attainder), now
consented to give him a special audience looked ominous for his great
rival. Bolingbroke boasted that the King was favourably inclined to
him, and only deferred making him Prime Minister until his return
from Hanover, where he was soon setting out. But he could have had no
grounds for the latter statement, though what he and the Duchess of
Kendal might have achieved in time it is impossible to say.
Since the King’s visit to Hanover the previous summer, his divorced
wife, Sophie Dorothea, had died at Ahlden (November 13th, 1726), after
thirty-three years’ captivity in her lonely castle, where she had never
ceased from the first hour of her imprisonment to demand release.
Prince Waldeck arrived in England with secret despatches giving an
account of the ill-fated princess’s last moments, and the Courts of
Hanover and Berlin assumed mourning, for the deceased Princess was
the mother of the Queen of Prussia, and by birth Princess of Celle.
It would have suited the King better to ignore the death of his hated
consort altogether, but he was unable to do so after the public notice
that had been taken of it by the Court of Berlin. So he had a notice
inserted in the _London Gazette_ to the effect that the “Duchess of
Ahlden” had died at Ahlden on the date specified. He countermanded
the court mourning at Hanover, and he would not allow the Prince and
Princess of Wales to assume mourning for their mother, or make any
allusion to her death. He himself, the very day he received the news,
went ostentatiously to the theatre, attended by his mistresses. But he
was superstitious, and therefore a good deal worried by remembering a
prophecy that he would not survive his wife a year.
It was rumoured that the King morganatically married the Duchess of
Kendal soon after Sophie Dorothea’s death, and that the Archbishop of
York performed the ceremony privately. But there was nothing to prove
the rumour, and the duchess was never acknowledged as the King’s wife,
either morganatically or otherwise. She always assumed airs of virtue
and respectability, and was regular in her attendance of the services
at the Lutheran Chapel Royal, though one of the pastors in years gone
by had refused to administer the sacrament to her, on the ground that
she was living with the King in unrepentant adultery. He was soon
replaced by another more complaisant. It is exceedingly unlikely that a
morganatic marriage took place, for the King, shortly after the death
of his ill-treated consort, took to himself another mistress, who
in time might have proved a formidable rival to the old-established
favourites. On this occasion he selected an Englishwoman, Anne Brett,
a bold and handsome brunette, who was the daughter of the divorced
Countess of Macclesfield by her second husband, Colonel Brett. Anne
demanded a coronet as the price of her complaisance and the old King
was so enamoured that he promised her everything she wished. He lodged
her in St. James’s Palace, gave her a handsome pension, and promised
the title and coronet on his return from Hanover. He set out thither
on June 3rd, 1727, accompanied by the Duchess of Kendal, and Lord
Townshend as Minister in attendance.
Mistress Brett was left in possession of the field, for Lady Darlington
had ceased to count, and she soon gave the court a taste of her
quality. Her apartments adjoined those of the King’s granddaughters,
Anne, Amelia and Caroline, and Mistress Brett ordered a door leading
from her rooms to the garden to be broken down. The Princess Anne
ordered the door to be blocked up again, whereat Mistress Brett flew
into a rage, and told the workmen to pull down the barriers. But she
had met her match in the Princess Anne, who, haughty and determined
beyond her years, immediately sent other men to enforce her orders.
When the dispute was at its height, news came from Hanover that the
King was dead. Anne Brett was turned out of St. James’s Palace, her
coronet vanished into air, and she was more than content, some years
later, to marry Sir William Leman, and retire into obscurity. The
King’s death foiled more than Anne Brett’s expectations; it shattered
Bolingbroke’s hopes to the dust, and postponed indefinitely the double
marriage scheme so dear to the heart of the Queen of Prussia.
The King had landed in Holland four days after leaving Greenwich, and
he set out to accomplish the overland journey to Hanover, apparently
in his usual health. The Duchess of Kendal stayed behind at the Hague
to recover from the crossing, which always made her ill. Attended by a
numerous escort, the King reached Delden, on the frontier of Holland,
on June 9th. Hard by he paid a visit to the house of Count Twittel,
where he ate an enormous supper, including several water-melons. His
suite wished him to stay the night at Delden, but after resting there
a few hours to change horses, he set off again at full speed in the
small hours of the morning. According to Lockhart it was here that the
letter was thrown into the King’s coach which had been written by the
ill-fated Sophie Dorothea, upbraiding her husband with his cruelty,
and reminding him of the prophecy that he would meet her at the divine
tribunal within a year and a day of her death.[129] Whether it was the
letter, or the supper, or a combination of both, it is impossible to
say, but soon after leaving Delden the King became violently disordered
and fell forward in a fit. When he partly recovered, his attendants
again urged him to rest, but he refused. The last stage of the journey
was accomplished in furious haste, the King himself urging on the
postilions and shouting: “To Osnabrück, to Osnabrück!” Osnabrück was
reached late at night, but by that time the King was insensible. His
brother, the Duke of York, Prince-Bishop of Osnabrück, came out to meet
him. The King was borne into the castle, and restoratives were applied,
but he never recovered consciousness, and breathed his last in the room
where he had been born sixty-seven years before.
Thus died the first of our Hanoverian Kings. To judge him impartially
we must take into consideration his environment and the age in which
he lived. So viewed, there is something to be said in extenuation,
something even in his favour. His profligacy was common to the princes
of his time, his coarseness was all his own. He was a bad husband, a
bad father, bad in many relations of life, but he was not a bad king.
He kept his compact with England, he was strictly a constitutional
monarch, he respected the rights of the people, and his views on civil
and religious liberty were singularly enlightened. His excessive
fondness for Hanover was an undoubted grievance to his English
subjects, but, on the other hand, it did him honour, as it showed that
he did not forget his old friends in the hour of prosperity. Though as
King of England he was a stranger in a strange country, and surrounded
by faction and intrigue, he played a difficult part with considerable
skill. The great blot upon his reign was the execution of the Jacobite
peers; the great stain upon his private life, the vindictive cruelty
with which he hounded his unfortunate wife to madness, and death. For
the first he was only partly responsible, the second admits of no
palliation. Yet with all his failings he was superior to his son, who
now succeeded him as King George the Second.
FOOTNOTES TO BOOK II, CHAPTER XI:
[117]
GEORGE II.=CAROLINE OF ANSBACH.
|
+---------+
|
+--Frederick Lewis, Prince of Wales, b. at Herrenhausen, 1707.
| M., 1736, Princess Augusta of Saxe-Gotha, d., 1751.
| Had issue, George III. and others.
|
+--Anne, Princess Royal, b. at Herrenhausen, 1709.
| M., 1733, Prince of Orange, d. 1759.
|
+--Amelia Sophia Eleanora, b. at Herrenhausen, 1710, d. 1786,
| unmarried.
|
+--Caroline Elizabeth, b. at Herrenhausen, 1715. d. 1757, unmarried.
|
+--George William, b. 1717, at St. James’s Palace, died in infancy.
|
+--William Augustus, Duke of Cumberland, b. at Leicester House, 1721,
| d. 1765, unmarried.
|
+--Mary, b. at Leicester House, 1722.
| M., 1740, Frederick of Hesse Cassel, d. 1772.
|
+--Louisa, b. at Leicester House, 1724.
| M., 1743, King of Denmark, d., 1751.
[118] Wentworth Papers. Lord Berkeley to Lord Strafford, 12th November,
1720.
[119] _The Weekly Journal_ or _British Gazetteer_, 7th March, 1724.
[120] _The Daily Post_, 3rd March, 1725.
[121] _The Daily Journal_, 14th March, 1726.
[122] _Ibid._, 1st April, 1727.
[123] _The Daily Journal_, 31st October, 1726.
[124] Brice’s _Weekly Journal_, 8th April, 1725. This picture may still
be seen at Kensington Palace.
[125] Walpole, Townshend and the Duke of Newcastle.
[126] _La Correspondance Secrète._ Count de Broglie to the King of
France, 6th July, 1724.
[127] _Ibid._, 10th July, 1724.
[128] _La Correspondance Secrète._ Letter of the King of France to the
Count de Broglie, 18th July, 1724.
[129] _Lockhart Memoirs._ This letter, Lockhart states, was shown him
the year of the King’s death by Count Welling, Governor of Luxemburg.
END OF VOL I.
INDEX.
VOLUME I.
Addison, Joseph, at Hanover, 86;
and Caroline, 169;
and the Jacobites, 247;
Secretary of State, 273.
Aislabie and the South Sea Bubble, 350.
Albemarle, Earl of, 149.
Alberoni, Cardinal, 328.
Albert the Great, Margrave of Ansbach, 7.
Aldworth, duel with Col. Chudleigh, 142.
Alexander, Margrave of Ansbach, 5.
Amelia, Princess, birth, 98.
Anne, Princess, birth, 92.
Anne, Queen of England, 62;
and the Church, 106;
reply to Hanoverian memorial, 120;
death, 128.
Arbuthnot, at Leicester House, 299.
Argyll, Duke of, 127;
Commander of Forces in Scotland, 146;
and the Stuart cause, 230;
dismissed, 251.
Arnauld, 23.
Atterbury, Bishop of Rochester, 127;
and George I., 157;
trial, 354.
Augustus Frederick (Augustus the Strong), Elector of Saxony, 12.
Austin, Mr., 58.
Beausobre, 19.
Bellenden, Margaret, 165.
Bellenden, Mary, 165, 303.
Berkeley, Countess of, 162.
Berkeley, Lord, 318.
Bernstorff, Prime Minister of Hanover, 132;
in England, 197.
Bolingbroke, Viscount, Secretary of State, 98;
dismissed, 133;
at coronation of George I., 156;
flight, 191;
impeachment, 192;
accepts office with Prince James Stuart, 215;
dismissed by James, 234;
pardon and return to England, 356;
and Schulemburg, 378.
Bolton, Duchess of, 162.
Bossuet, 24.
Bothmar, Hanoverian agent in England, 100;
in England, 196.
Boyle, 23.
Brandshagen, 97.
Brensenius, 20.
Brett, Anne, 381.
Bromley, Secretary of State, 111.
Buckenburg, Countess of, 259.
Buckingham, Duchess of, 294.
Burnet, Bishop, 167.
Cabinet Council, establishment of, 146.
Cambridge, Marquis and Duke of, George Augustus created, 91.
Cambridge University and George I., 223.
Carnwath, Earl, joins Jacobites, 224;
surrender, 226;
impeached, 236;
reprieved, 239;
pardoned, 244.
Caroline of Ansbach, birth, 3;
parents, 8;
betrothal, 54;
marriage, 57;
and the English throne, 102;
lands in England, 150;
enters London, 151;
and Schulemburg and Kielmansegge in England, 199;
popularity of, 245;
and Lord Sunderland, 264;
at Leicester House, 287;
and Lord Chesterfield, 291;
and Mrs. Howard, 309;
and her children, 316;
and Walpole, 334;
birthday celebrations, 369.
Caroline, Princess, birth, 98.
Carteret, Bridget, 166.
Cassel, Princess of, 27.
Celle, Duchess of, 65.
Celle, Duke of, 30;
death, 57.
Charles, Archduke, King of Spain, 26, 38.
Charles XII., King of Sweden, 271.
Charles Edward, Prince, birth, 353.
Chesterfield, Lord, 289.
Chetwynd, Lord, 194.
Chudleigh, Colonel, 142.
Cibber, Colley, 324.
Clarendon, Earl of, Envoy Extraordinary to Hanover, 119;
and George I., 130.
Clarke, Dr. Samuel, 260, 299.
Clayton, Mrs., 162.
Clementina, Princess, Consort of Prince James Stuart, 270, 330.
Congreve, 169.
Cowper, Countess of, 162.
Cowper, Lord, Lord Chancellor of England, 146;
resignation, 317.
Craggs, James, at Hanover, 78, 128;
and Lady Mary Wortley Montagu, 204;
Secretary for War, 273;
and Caroline, 338;
death, 350.
Darlington, Countess of. See _Kielmansegge_.
D’Alais, English Envoy at Hanover, 92.
De Broglie, Count, 201.
D’Eke, Countess of, 89.
D’Haremberg, Marshal of the Court of Hanover, 122.
De la Bergerie, French Chaplain at Hanover, 34.
Deloraine, Lady, 259.
Derwentwater, proclaims Prince James, 224;
surrender, 226;
impeached, 236;
executed, 242.
De Villette, Marquise, 354.
Dorchester, Lady, 156.
Dorset, Countess of, 162.
Dorset, Lord, at Hanover, 85, 129.
Du Cros, State Minister, 27.
Dupplin, Lord, 222.
Eberstein, Princess of. See _Schulemburg_.
Eleanor Erdmuthe Louisa, Margravine of Ansbach, 8;
betrothal, 9;
marriage, 10;
death, 13.
Elizabeth, Queen of Bohemia, 14.
Elizabeth Charlotte, Duchess of Orleans, 44.
Ernest Augustus of Hanover, 34, 64;
created Duke of York, 252.
Errol, Earl of, 218.
Forster, proclaims Prince James, 224;
surrender, 226;
escape, 236, 244.
Frederick I., Elector of Brandenburg, 7.
Frederick III., Elector of Brandenburg, 8;
marriage, 16;
King of Prussia, 16.
Frederick V., Burgrave of Ansbach, 7.
Frederick Louis of Hanover, birth, 89;
created Duke of Gloucester, 252.
Frederick William, Crown Prince of Prussia, birth, 16;
marriage, 84;
King of Prussia, 359.
Gay at Leicester House, 298.
George Augustus (George II.), birth, 3;
betrothal, 54;
marriage, 57;
Knight of the Garter, 86;
English titles, 90;
created Prince of Wales, 143;
shot at, 246;
appointed Regent, 250;
at Hampton Court, 256;
quarrel with George I., 274;
and the Duke of Newcastle, 276;
arrest, 277;
at Leicester House, 287;
at Richmond Lodge, 311;
reconciliation with George I., 334.
George Frederick, Margrave of Ansbach, 7.
George Frederick (the younger), Margrave of Ansbach, 8.
George Louis (George I.), character, 63;
memorial to Anne, 113;
King of England, 128;
lands in England, 137;
enters London, 141;
establishes Cabinet Council, 146;
coronation, 152;
Civil List, 186;
visit to Hanover, 251, 327, 341, 358;
and his mistresses, 268;
quarrel with Prince of Wales, 274;
shot at, 326;
reconciliation with Prince of Wales, 334;
and Caroline, 338;
visit to Berlin, 359;
death, 383.
George the Pious, Margrave of Ansbach, 7.
George William of Wales, birth, 274;
death, 283.
Glengarry, Chief of, 218.
Godike, Bothmar’s secretary, 130.
Gortz, Swedish Prime Minister, 271.
Grantham, Lord, 278.
Gyllenborg, Swedish Envoy, 271.
Halifax, Lord, at Hanover, 85;
head of Treasury Commission, 146.
Handel, 19.
Hanmer, Sir Thomas, 188.
Harcourt, Lord Chancellor, 138.
Henry Benedict, Duke of York, birth, 353.
Hertfort, Marquess of, 57.
Hervey, Lord, 293.
Hesse, Princess of, 41.
Hesse-Darmstadt, Landgrave of, 51.
Hobart, Sir Henry, 93.
Howard, Henry, at Hanover, 93;
Gentleman Usher to George I., 164.
Howard, Mrs., at Hanover, 93;
Bedchamber Woman to Caroline, 162;
at Hampton Court, 261;
separates from her husband, 282.
Howe, English Envoy at Hanover, 83.
Howe, Sophia, 166, 305.
Humphreys, Sir William, 170.
Huntley, Marquess of, 218.
Jacobite Rising of 1715, 217.
James I. of England, 14.
James Stuart, Prince (The Chevalier de St. George), history, 210;
declared king, 219;
lands in Scotland, 227;
flight, 231;
marriage, 270, 330.
John Frederick, Margrave of Ansbach, 8.
John George IV., Elector of Saxony, betrothal, 9;
marriage, 10;
death, 12.
Karl the Wild, Margrave of Ansbach, 4.
Kendal, Duchess of. See _Schulemburg_.
Kenmure, Lord, declares for Prince James, 224;
surrender, 226;
impeached, 236;
executed, 242.
Kent, Duke of, 279.
Kielmansegge, Madame, 76;
created Countess of Darlington, 323.
King, Sir Peter, 171.
Kingston, Duke of, 279.
Knights of the Swan, 7.
Lansdowne, Lord, 222.
Law, John, 343.
Leibniz, 22;
and England, 131;
death, 269.
Lepel, Mary, 165, 301.
Linlithgow, Earl of, 218.
Louis XIV. of France, relations with, and Germany, 23;
and Hanover, 82.
Louisa, Princess, birth, 367.
Louise, Raugravine, 29.
Lowther, Antony, 307.
Lumley, Lord, 246.
Luther, 12.
Macintosh, Brigadier, 225, 236.
Mahomet, Turkish servant of George I., 200.
Mainz, Elector-Archbishop of, 22.
Malebranche, 23.
Mar, Earl of, 217.
Marischal, Earl of, 218.
Marlborough, Duke of, 63;
at Hanover, 79;
dismissed, 101;
Commander-in-Chief, 146;
and Bolingbroke, 191;
death, 352.
Mary, Princess, birth, 367.
Masham, Lady, 99.
Maximilian, Prince, of Hanover, 64.
Meadows, Miss, 166, 304.
Melancthon, 12.
Metsch, Court Councillor, 52.
Milford Haven, Earl of, 91.
Mollineux, Marlborough’s agent at Hanover, 116.
Montagu, Duchess of, 162.
Montagu, Lady Mary Wortley, 76;
history, 201;
and Craggs, 204;
at Hanover, 253.
Mustapha, Turkish servant of George I., 200.
Nairn, Lord, surrender, 226;
impeached, 236;
reprieved, 239;
pardoned, 244.
Newcastle, Duke of, 276.
Newport, Mr., 57.
Newton, 300.
Nithisdale, Earl, joins Prince James, 224;
surrender, 226;
impeached, 236;
escape, 241.
Northallerton, Viscount, 91.
Northumberland, Duke of, 140.
Nottingham, Lady, and Caroline, 151.
Nottingham, Lord, President of the Council, 145;
and the Jacobites, 240.
Oldenburg, 23.
Onslow, Mr., 58.
Order of the Golden Bracelet, 10.
Ormonde, Duke of, Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland, 98;
and the Jacobites, 126;
impeachment and flight, 192;
return to England, 217.
Oxford, Earl of, Lord-Treasurer of England, 98;
fall, 125;
impeachment, 192;
trial and release, 274.
Oxford University and George I., 223.
Papendorf, 19.
Parker, Lord Chief Justice, 317.
Peterborough, Earl of, 291.
Pickenbourg, Countess of, 118.
Platen, Count, 30.
Platen, Countess, 77.
Poley, English Envoy at Hanover, 41.
Pollexfen, Mrs., 162.
Pöllnitz, Marie von, 16.
Pope, 297.
Reden, Chevalier, 122.
Robethon, 232, 197.
Robethon, Madame, 198.
Röohlitz, Magdalen Sybil von, 9;
created countess, 11;
death, 12.
Roxburgh, Duke of, 279.
St. Albans, Duchess of, 162.
Saxe-Gotha, Duke of, 21.
Saxe-Zeith, Princess of, 42.
Schulemburg, Ermengarda Melusina, 74;
created peeress of Ireland, 268;
created Duchess of Kendal, 323;
created Princess of Eberstein, 375;
and Walpole, 377;
and Bolingbroke, 378.
Schütz, Hanoverian Envoy in England, 110.
Schütz, Mademoiselle, 198.
Seaforth, Earl of, 218.
Selwyn, Mrs., 162.
Severit, Court Councillor, 52.
Shrewsbury, Duchess of, 143.
Shrewsbury, Duke of, Lord Treasurer, 128;
resignation, 145;
Lord Chamberlain, 146.
Somerset, Duke of, 127.
Sophia, Electress of Hanover, 14;
at Lützenburg, 19;
and the English throne, 24–62;
and Caroline, 25;
genealogy, 61;
and Mrs. Howard, 94;
Memorial to Anne, 113;
death, 118.
Sophie Charlotte, Electress of Brandenburg, 10;
character, 14;
marriage, 16;
Queen of Prussia, 16;
and Caroline, 21;
death, 34;
funeral, 50.
Sophie Dorothea of Celle and Caroline, 65;
death, 380.
Sophie Dorothea, Princess of Hanover, 64;
marriage, 84;
Queen of Prussia, 360.
South Sea Bubble, 341.
Southesk, Earl of, 218.
Stair, Lord, English Ambassador in Paris, 217;
recalled, 343.
Stanhope, Earl, Secretary of State, 145;
Prime Minister, 268;
death, 349.
Strafford, Earl of, 149, 192.
Sunderland, Lord, 264;
Secretary of State, 273;
resignation and death, 351.
Swift, Dean, 174.
Tewkesbury, Baron, 90.
Thornhill, Sir James, 255.
Tickell, 173, 299.
Toland, 19.
Townshend, Lord, Secretary of State, 133;
Prime Minister, 145;
and Caroline, 263;
dismissed, 268;
Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland, 268;
dismissed, 272;
joins Stanhope, 330.
Traquair, Earl of, 218.
Tron, Madame, 174.
Tullibardine, Marquess of, 218.
Twittel, Count, 383.
Urban, 29.
Utrecht, Peace of, 101.
Vanburgh, Sir John, 86.
Von Breidow, Privy Councillor, 50.
Von Eltz, Baron, 41, 44, 49.
Von Genninggen, Fräulein, 49.
Von Gerleheim, Court Marshal, 49.
Von Voit, Councillor, 51.
Vota, 19.
Waldeck, Prince, 380.
Walpole, Sir Robert, Paymaster General, 145;
Chairman of Committee of Secrecy, 192;
and the Jacobites, 240;
resignation, 272;
joins Stanhope, 330;
history, 332;
and Caroline, 334;
Prime Minister, 351;
and Atterbury, 354;
and Schulemburg, 377.
Wharton, Duke of, 182, 349.
Whiston, 299.
Widdrington, Lord, 226, 236, 240.
Wilhelmina Caroline, Princess of Brandenburg-Ansbach. See _Caroline_.
William Augustus, Duke of Cumberland, birth, 367.
William Frederick of Ansbach, 8.
William of Orange, 82.
Wintoun, Earl of, 224, 225, 236, 243, 244.
Wren, Sir Christopher, 323.
Wyndham, Sir William, 222.
THE ABERDEEN UNIVERSITY PRESS LIMITED.
Transcriber’s Notes
Punctuation, hyphenation, and spelling were made consistent when a
predominant preference was found in the original book; otherwise they
were not changed.
Simple typographical errors were corrected; unbalanced quotation
marks were remedied when the change was obvious, and otherwise left
unbalanced.
Footnotes, originally at the bottoms of pages, have been sequentially
renumberd and placed at the ends of the chapters in which they appear.
Illustrations in this eBook have been positioned between paragraphs and
outside quotations.
The index was not checked for proper alphabetization or correct page
references.