Mrs. Robinson--Her story of Florizel and Perdita--Her
after-career--Coming of age of the Prince of Wales--His new
establishment--His first visit to Brighton--His and Colonel Hanger's
adventure.
Who was this Mrs. Robinson? She was of Irish extraction, and was born
in Bristol in 1758. In 1774 she married an attorney's clerk, named
Robinson; and, owing to pecuniary difficulties, she went on the stage,
appearing at Drury Lane as Juliet on December 10, 1770, a part for
which her fascinating beauty well fitted her. On December 3, 1779,
Garrick's adaptation of Shakespeare's _Winter's Tale_ was produced by
royal command, and Mrs. Robinson appeared in the part of Perdita. It
was then that she was seen and admired by the Prince of Wales. Let her
tell her own story as to that night, and what came of it.
'The play of the Winter's Tale was, this season, commanded by their
Majesties. I never had performed before the royal family; and the first
character in which I was destined to appear was that of Perdita. I had
frequently played the part, both with the Hermione of Mrs. Hartley and
of Miss Farren: but I felt a strange degree of alarm when I found my
name announced to perform it before the royal family.
'In the green-room I was rallied on the occasion; and Mr. Smith,
whose gentlemanly manners and enlightened conversation rendered him
an ornament to the profession, who performed the part of Leontes,
laughingly exclaimed, "By Jove, Mrs. Robinson, you will make a conquest
of the Prince; for to-night you look handsomer than ever." I smiled at
the unmerited compliment, and little foresaw the vast variety of events
that would arise from that night's exhibition!
'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 Malden, 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
(now General) Lake, and to the Honourable Mr. Legge, brother to Lord
Lewisham, who was in waiting on his Royal Highness. I hurried through
the first scene, not without much embarrassment, 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 everyone, and I was
again rallied at the end of the play. 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 I _never shall forget_, he gently inclined his head a
second time; I felt the compliment, and blushed my gratitude.
'During the entertainment Lord Malden never ceased conversing with me:
he was young, pleasing, and perfectly accomplished. He remarked the
particular applause which the Prince had bestowed on my performance;
said a thousand civil things; and detained me in conversation till the
evening's performance was concluded.
'I was now going to my chair, which waited, when I met the royal family
crossing the stage. I was again honoured with a very marked and low bow
from the Prince of Wales. On my return home, I had a party to supper;
and the whole conversation centred in encomiums on the person, graces,
and amiable manners of the illustrious Heir apparent.
'Within two or three days of this time, Lord Malden made me a morning
visit. Mr. Robinson was not at home, and I received him rather
awkwardly. But his Lordship's embarrassment far exceeded mine. He
attempted to speak,--paused, hesitated, apologized; I knew not why. He
hoped I would pardon him; that I would not mention something he had
to communicate; that I would consider the peculiar delicacy of his
situation, and then act as I thought proper. I could not comprehend his
meaning, and therefore requested he would be explicit.
'After some moments of evident rumination, he tremblingly drew a small
letter from his pocket. I took it, and knew not what to say. It was
addressed to PERDITA. I smiled, I believe, rather sarcastically, and
opened the billet. It contained only a few words, but those expressive
of more than common civility: they were signed FLORIZEL.
'"Well, my lord, and what does this mean?" said I, half angrily.
'"Can you not guess the writer?" said Lord Malden.
'"Perhaps yourself, my lord," cried I, gravely.
'"Upon my honour, no," said the Viscount. "I should not have dared so
to address you on so short an acquaintance."
'I pressed him to tell me from whom the letter came. He again
hesitated; he seemed confused, and sorry that he had undertaken to
deliver it.
'"I hope I shall not forfeit your good opinion," said he; "but----"
'"But what, my lord?"
'"I could not refuse--for the letter is from the Prince of Wales."
'I was astonished; I confess that I was agitated; but I was, also,
somewhat sceptical as to the truth of Lord Malden's assertion. I
returned a formal and a doubtful answer, and his lordship shortly after
took his leave.'
It is not worth while pursuing the details of this woman's fall; she
says her husband was neglectful of her, and unfaithful; and, besides,
the Prince gave her a bond for £20,000, payable when he came of age.
He soon tired of her, and terminated the connection in 1781. The lady
seems to have been far from inconsolable, for in 1782 she was under
the protection of Colonel Tarleton, and a caricature, said to be by
Gillray, called 'The Thunderer' (August 20, 1782), thus shows the then
situation.
The engraving shows a dragoon officer (Colonel Tarleton) standing
before the door of the 'Whirligig' Chop-house, with a drawn sword,
boasting his wondrous feats of arms. Beside him stands a figure having
a plume of three feathers instead of a head (the Prince of Wales). The
sign, the 'Whirligig,' is Mrs. Robinson. The _Morning Post_, September
21, 1782, says: 'Yesterday, a messenger arrived in town, with the very
interesting and pleasing intelligence of the Tarleton, armed ship,
having, after a chace of some months, captured the Perdita frigate,
and brought her safe into Egham port. The Perdita is a prodigious fine
clean bottomed vessel, and had taken many prizes during her cruize,
particularly the Florizel, a most valuable ship belonging to the Crown,
but which was immediately released, after taking out the cargo. The
Perdita was captured some time ago by the Fox, but was, afterwards,
retaken by the Malden, and had a sumptuous suit of new rigging, when
she fell in with the Tarleton. Her manœuvring to escape was admirable;
but the Tarleton, fully determined to take her, or perish, would not
give up the chace; and at length, coming alongside the Perdita, fully
determined to board her, sword in hand, she instantly surrendered at
discretion.'
The scandal about her being connected with Fox has, I think, no
foundation in fact. He was infatuated with Mrs. Armstead, who
afterwards became his wife; and the foundation for the rumour was,
probably, that Fox was the agent from the Prince to negotiate the
return of the £20,000 bond from Perdita, which he succeeded in
effecting, on condition that she was paid an annuity of £500 for
life. Still, the caricaturist T. Colley gives us (December 17, 1782),
'Perdito and Perdita, or the Man and Woman of the People,' which shows
Mrs. Robinson driving Fox in her chariot. This must have been a very
smart affair, if we may trust a newspaper cutting of 1782.
'_Dec. 4._--Mrs. Robinson now sports a carriage, which is the
admiration of all the _charioteering_ circles in the vicinity of St.
James's; the body Carmelite and silver, ornamented 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.'
The _Morning Herald_, June 16, 1783, says: 'The _Perdita's_ new
_vis-a-vis_ is said to be the aggregate of a few stakes laid at
Brooke's, which the competitors were not able to decide. Mr. _Fox_
therefore proposed that as it could not be better applied than to the
above purpose, that the _Perdita_ should be presented with an elegant
carriage. The ill-natured call it _Love's Last Stake_, or The Fools of
Fashion.'
It is not worth while following her career until her death on December
26, 1800; and, indeed, unconnected as she was with the Prince and
Brighton, the episode would not have been introduced were it not to
tell the story of how the Prince got the name of Florizel, which stuck
to him all his life.
The Prince came of age on August 12, 1783, but there were no great
festivities over the event. The Court was quiet, because the Queen had
just been confined, and the account we have of the doings at Windsor
are very meagre. The _Morning Chronicle_ of August 14 tells us that--
'_Windsor, 13 Aug._--Yesterday, being the day on which his Royal
Highness George, Prince of Wales, came of age, the same was observed,
at this place, with every demonstration of joy, as far as could
be consistent with the situation of Her Majesty. The Prince came
down about eight in the morning, waited upon the King, with whom
he breakfasted, and received the compliments from his brothers and
sisters, the Duke of Cumberland, Duke of Montague, Lord Aylesbury, etc.
After breakfast, his Highness retired to his own apartments, and, at
noon, had a Levee; Colonel Dalrymple, with all the officers belonging
to the regiment, were introduced to the Prince, and gave him joy of the
day. Several of the nobility and gentry around the country waited upon
his Royal Highness, and were very politely received.
'The Prince had ordered a dinner for his own suite, from Clode's, at
the White Hart, and had a turtle dressed in London, which was brought
down by Weltje, of St. James's Street. His Royal Highness dined with
his Majesty, three of his brothers, five of his sisters, the Duke of
Montague, Lord Aylesbury, and Lady Charlotte Finch. After the cloth was
removed, and a few glasses had gone round, the Prince went to his own
apartments, and sat for some time with Lord Southampton, Lord Lewisham,
Lord Boston, Lord Chewton and the rest of his suite. His Majesty
went upon the Terrace at half past six; the Prince of Wales and his
attendants soon followed. It is said, more genteel company scarce ever
met on that spot.
'The Duchess of Ancaster, Lady Ferrers, the beautiful Miss Hudson, and
a variety of women of rank, did honour to the day. It was quite dark
before the company retired from the Terrace. The Duke of Queensbury
joined his Royal Highness and his suite. The carriages were so numerous
that they filled both Castle Yards.'
There were illuminations at Windsor and in London, where His Royal
Highness's tradesmen and the Hon. Artillery Company (of which he was
Captain-General) held good cheer; but it was felt that the coming of
age had not been celebrated in a sufficiently national style, and a
fête later on was talked of, which never came to pass. Perhaps the
Prince's character had something to do with it, for the _Morning
Herald_ of August 15 says: 'The broad faced dissipation of a certain
young gentleman, gives the most general disgust. Extravagance in the
_extreme_, but ill suits the present state of the British empire.' They
were outspoken in those days!
The Prince is now launched in life. He is Colonel of the 10th Light
Dragoons, has £50,000 per annum allowed him by Parliament, and the
revenues of the Duchy of Cornwall, about £13,000 more. He has Carlton
House fitting up for him; he is his own master, being no longer under
paternal control, and his soul yearns towards his _âme damnée_, the
Duke of Cumberland. This Prince was at Brighthelmstone, and thither
Florizel went. Every authority but one says that the Prince of Wales
paid a visit to the Duke in 1782; but I think that the one which has
not slavishly copied from other sources is right, for two reasons:
first, that in 1782 he was under strict paternal control, and could
stir nowhere without his governor, and a visit to that uncle whom the
King so disliked was the last thing to be thought of; and, secondly,
we see (on p. 28) in the description of Brighton in 1782, 'The Duke of
C. is at the head of the whole.' If the heir to the throne had been
there, the Duke would have taken 'a back seat,' and the papers would
have given due prominence to the visit; and therefore I incline to the
opinion that, since the days of his childhood, his first visit to the
watering-place he afterwards made so famous was in September, 1783,
on which occasion the town was illuminated and there was a display of
fireworks. During his stay of eleven days, he hunted, went to a ball,
and to the theatre, besides the ordinary amusements of the place. In
fact, his visit seems so to have impressed him, that from that date he
made Brighthelmstone his abiding-place for, at least, a portion of the
year. Huish,[26] however, gives another version for his liking for the
place:
'The Prince had now begun to manifest that predilection for Brighton,
which induced him at a future period to make that town his residence.
The report, however, which was current at the time, and which is
actually founded on truth, goes so far as to state, that it was neither
the marine views, nor the benefit of change of air, nor the salubrity
of the place, which possessed, in the eyes of his Royal Highness, at
this time, any great attractions; but that he was drawn thither by
the angelic figure of a sea nymph, whom he, one day, encountered
reclining on one of the groins on the beach. In this amour, however,
his Royal Highness was completely the dupe. As far as personal charms
extended, Charlotte Fortescue was of "the first order of fine forms";
but, as far as mental qualifications were to be considered, she was
one of the most illiterate and ignorant of human beings. In artifice
and intrigue she was unparalleled; and, withal, she knew how to throw
such an air of simplicity and innocence over her actions, as would have
deceived even a greater adept than his Royal Highness, in the real
nature of her character. She soon discovered the exalted station of the
individual whom she believed she had captivated by her charms; and, on
the principle that the thing is of little value which is cheaply or
easily obtained, she, for a time, frustrated every attempt of his Royal
Highness to obtain a private interview with her. She kept her residence
a complete secret, and, for some days, she was neither seen nor heard
of. On a sudden, she would make her appearance, and then, suffused in
tears, would speak of her approaching marriage, and her consequent
departure from the country; and could that idea be borne by her royal
lover? Heaven and earth were to be moved to avert such a direful
calamity; a regular elopement was proposed, and, in order to give the
affair a highly romantic air, it was arranged that the dress of a
footman was to be procured for the beautiful fugitive, and that the
Prince was to have a postchaise in waiting a few miles on the London
road, to bear away his valuable prize. There is, however, an old adage
which says, that much falls between the cup and the lip, and, in this
instance, the truth of it was fully confirmed. The hour was anxiously
looked for which was to bring the lovers into the undisturbed society
of each other; but, as the Prince was dressing for dinner, the arrival
of George Hanger, who had just then begun his career of eccentricity
and profligacy in the fashionable circles, was announced. The Prince
invited him to dine; excusing himself, however, at the same time, for
the early hour at which he would be obliged to leave him, as he had
most important business to transact that night in the metropolis.
Dinner being over, the Prince inquired the business which had brought
his visitor to Brighton in so unexpected a manner.
'"A hunt, a hunt, your Royal Highness," said Hanger, "I am in chace of
a d----d fine girl, whom I met with at Mrs. Simpson's in Duke's Place;
and, although I have taken private apartments for her in St. Anne's
East, yet the hussy takes it into her head every now and then to absent
herself for a few days; and I have now been given to understand that
she is carrying on some intrigue with a _fellow_ in this place. Let me
but catch him, and I will souse him over head and ears in the ocean."
'The Prince now inquired what kind of a lady he was in pursuit of;
and, by the description given, he doubted not for a moment, that the
lady with whom he was to elope that very evening, on account of her
approaching marriage, was the identical lady who had eloped from the
protection of his visitor, and he began to consider how he could
extricate himself with the best possible grace from the dilemma in
which he was involved. That he was a dupe to the artifices of a
cunning, designing girl, was now apparent to him; and, therefore, it
would be his greatest pride and joy to outwit her. He, therefore,
disclosed the whole of his intrigue with the runaway, and it was
resolved that Hanger should put on one of the coats in which she was
accustomed to see her royal lover, and take his seat in the chaise,
instead of the Prince. The whole affair was well managed; the Prince
remained at Brighton; Hanger bore off his lady to London, not a little
chagrined at such an unexpected termination of her romantic elopement;
but not many months elapsed before the lady gained an opportunity of
repaying the Prince tenfold for the trick which he had played her.'
[Illustration: Decorative motif]
FOOTNOTES:
[26] 'Memoirs of George IV.,' by Robert Huish, 8vo., vol. i., p. 80;
London, 1831.
[Illustration: Decorative panel]