CHAPTER XIV.

Another camp at Brighton--The Prince's second marriage--His

debts--Parliamentary debate thereon--Prince and Princess at

Brighton--'Moral Epistle from the Pavilion at Brighton to Carlton

House'--Manners at Brighton, 1796--Description of the town.

Early in the summer of 1794 another encampment took place at Brighton,

about a mile and a half to the west of the town, as it then was. It

consisted of about 7,000 men, and did not break up until the second

week in November. The Prince was at the Pavilion in May, but not much

afterwards. Mrs. Fitzherbert did not go there this year.

The King, in his speech in opening the session of Parliament, on

December 30, 1794, said: 'I have the greatest satisfaction in

announcing to you the happy event of the conclusion of a treaty

for the marriage of my son, the Prince of Wales, with the Princess

Caroline, daughter of the Duke of Brunswick; the constant proofs of

your affection for my person and family persuade me that you will

participate in the sentiments I feel on an occasion so interesting to

my domestic happiness, and that you will enable me to make provision

for such an establishment, as you may think suitable to the rank and

dignity of the Heir apparent to the crown of these kingdoms.'

As soon as possible afterwards the pictorial satirist has (January 24,

1795) THE LOVER'S DREAM.

'A thousand virtues seem to lackey her,

Driving far off each thing of sin and guilt.'

MILTON.

The Prince is represented as asleep in bed, and dreaming of his

coming bride, who is descending from heaven, accompanied by Cupids,

and driving away Bacchus, Fox, the Jews, Mrs. Fitzherbert and fiends,

racehorses, etc.; and by the bedside are the King and Queen, the former

holding a bag labelled £15,000 per annum.

Much Florizel cared for reforming his character; he only wanted to get

clear of debts, and have an increased income; and, not caring how he

obtained this relief, he committed bigamy on April 8, 1795, in order to

obtain the longed-for relief. His debts were, according to a schedule

presented to Parliament, up to April 5, as follows:

Debts on various securities, and

bearing interest £500,571 19 1

Amount of tradesmen's bills unpaid 86,745 0 0

Tradesmen's bills and arrears of

establishment (from October 10,

1794, to April 5, 1795) 52,573 5 3

---------------

£639,890 4 4

On April 27 the King sent a message to his faithful Commons respecting

an establishment for the Prince and Princess of Wales, and in the

last paragraph he says: 'Anxious as his Majesty must necessarily be,

particularly under the present circumstances, to relieve the Prince

of Wales from these difficulties, his Majesty entertains no idea of

proposing to his Parliament to make any provision for this object,

otherwise than by the application of a part of the income which may be

settled on the Prince; but he earnestly recommends it to the House, to

consider of the propriety of thus providing for the gradual discharge

of these incumbrances, by appropriating and securing, for a given

term, the revenues arising from the Duchy of Cornwall, together with a

proportion of the Prince's other annual income; and his Majesty will

be ready and desirous to concur in any provisions which the wisdom of

Parliament may suggest for the purpose of establishing a regular and

punctual order of payment in the Prince's future expenditure, and of

guarding against the possibility of the Prince being again involved in

so painful and embarrassing a situation.'

On May 14 the House went into Committee on the subject. Pitt pointed

out that fifty years previously the Prince's grandfather, as Prince of

Wales, had an annual income of £100,000. 'He, therefore, now proposed,

that the income of his Royal Highness should be £125,000, exclusive

of the Duchy of Cornwall, which was only £25,000 a year more than was

enjoyed 50 years ago. This being the only vote he had to propose, he

should merely state, in the nature of a notice, those regulations

which were intended to be made hereafter. The preparations for the

marriage would be stated at £27,000 for jewels and plate; and £25,000

for finishing Carlton House. The jointure of the Princess of Wales, he

proposed to be £50,000 a year, being no more than had been granted on a

similar occasion.'

The addition to the Prince's income was carried by 241 to 100.

In the course of the debate Pitt proposed that the revenues of the

Duchy of Cornwall and part of the income of £125,000 should be applied

to the payment of the interest of the debts, and to the gradual

discharge of the principal; that the sum so taken should be vested

in the hands of Commissioners. From the income of £125,000 a year

he should propose that £25,000 should be deducted annually for the

payment of the debts at 4 per cent., and that the revenues of the Duchy

of Cornwall should be appropriated as a sinking fund, at compound

interest, to discharge the principal of the debts, which they would do

in twenty-seven years.

Finally, by an Act which received the royal assent on June 27, 1795

(35 Geo. III., c. 129), £60,000 per annum was to be set apart and

vested with Commissioners from the Prince's income, as well as £13,000

per annum from the Duchy of Cornwall, to pay the Prince's debts, a

proceeding which found small favour in Florizel's sight.

Of the wretched marriage nothing need be said. Public appearances were

kept up until the birth of the Princess Charlotte, and the Prince and

his consort visited Brighton together, as we see from the following

extracts from the _Sussex Weekly Advertiser_:

_June 22, 1795._--'Their Royal Highnesses the Prince and Princess of

Wales arrived at Brighton between one and two o'clock on Thursday

morning last. They alighted at the house of Mr. Hamilton, on the

Steine, which is to be made the Royal residence, till the alterations

that are going forward at the Pavilion, can be completed.

'In the evening the whole town was illuminated, in honour of their

Royal Highnesses' arrival; but the effect of the illumination was

greatly lessened by the wetness of the night, as it prevented the lamps

with which the Castle, the Libraries, and other houses were decorated,

from burning.

'The Prince, we are informed, perambulated the town, in his great coat,

to view the different devices.

'Though the untowardness of the weather has, hitherto, obscured

the beauties of Brighton from the Princess of Wales, it has had no

effect whatever on her Royal Highness's spirits; on the contrary, her

cheerfulness and pleasantry strongly bespeak her approbation of the

place.

'The Prince, about noon yesterday, set off for town, but we understand

his Royal Highness signified his intention of returning to Brighton

some time in the course of this day.

'On Wednesday morning, should the weather prove favourable, the Prince

and Princess of Wales intend visiting the Camp, when the whole line

will be drawn up, and fire a Royal salute, on the occasion. After

which, there will be a grand field day.'

_June 29._--'The Prince and Princess of Wales did not visit the Camp,

last Wednesday, as was expected, owing to the absence of his Royal

Highness, who, on that day, went to town, in order to attend the Privy

Council. The whole line was, nevertheless, out, and had a field day.

'On Saturday morning, however, their Royal Highnesses honoured the

Camp with their promised visit, when the whole line was drawn up in

readiness to receive them; after which, the troops marched to Goldstone

Bottom, where they had a very grand field day, and fired a Royal

salute, on the occasion.

'We are glad to hear, from the best authority, that the air of Brighton

proves extremely agreeable to the above illustrious Princess. Since

her arrival at that place, her Royal Highness has enjoyed an excellent

flow of spirits, and has frequently been heard to declare she had

never before experienced so good an appetite. Her Royal Highness has

signified her intention of continuing at Brighton, the whole of the

summer.'

_July 6._--'The Prince and Princess of Wales removed from Mr.

Hamilton's house, on the Steine, to the Royal Pavilion, on Thursday

last.'

They stopped at Brighton till November, and Queen Caroline never again

revisited it, as, after the birth of the Princess Charlotte (January 7,

1796), the royal couple separated for good.

The Prince went to Brighton for the season on July 28, 1796, and

the Pavilion, as it then was, is thus described in a contemporary

pamphlet:[74]

'The Pavilion is built principally of wood; it is a nondescript monster

in building, and appears like a mad house, or a house run mad, as it

has neither beginning, middle, nor end; yet, to acquire this design, a

miserable bricklayer was despatched to Italy, to gather something equal

to the required magnificence, and actually charged two thousand guineas

for his expenses.--There are four pillars in _scagliola_, in a sort of

oven, where the Prince dines; and, when the fire is lighted, the room

is so hot, that the parties are nearly baked and incrusted: the ground

on which it is erected was given to the Prince by the town, for which

he allows them fifty pounds yearly, to purchase grog and tobacco; and

has so far mended their ways, as to make a common sewer to hold the

current filth of the parish.'

The same pamphlet contains 'A Moral Epistle from the Pavilion at

Brighton to Carlton House, London,' which gives an account of the style

of company kept there:

'When he first nestled here, he was handsome and thin,

No razor had then mown his stubbleless chin:

He was sportive and careless, bland, upright and young,

And I smiled on his feats when he said, or he sung:

Then youth bore its own pardon, while stumbling o'er ill,

As the passions o'erthrew what was meant by the will.

* * * * *

I have seen him inwove with a pestilent crew,

Who, nine tenths came undone, and the rest to undo!

When those caitiffs came thund'ring in impudent state,

And drew up their _tandems_ and _gigs_ at my gate,

Full of wrath at their daring, I rav'd and I swore,

Then I let in an Eddy that slamm'd to the door:

But, alas! it avail'd not--'twas open'd again,

And the P---- rose, and welcom'd the toad eating train!

He, urbane, smil'd on all, where 'twas sin to look sad,

As God's light aids, in common, the good and the bad.

I tore off Folly's cloak, to exhibit the wrong;

How I toil'd to advise, but was stunn'd with a song:

I made signs on my plaster to rally them all,

But no _Daniel_ was there to decipher the wall.--

Ah! I know his large heart, and beneficent plan;

Though he's run from the course, yet HE FEELS LIKE A MAN:

Though he dissipates seeds of an undeserv'd sorrow,

And, gaily, puts off half his ills till the morrow,

His radical nobleness knows no decay;

He will act, but not cant;--he'll relieve ere he'll pray:

As Charity's retinue own, while embrac'd,

IN HIS GIFT HE GIVES TWICE, 'TIS A DEED SO WELL GRAC'D.

When their mirth grew to madness, and jests met the ear,

Which Philosophy scorns, and no maiden should hear,

Convuls'd with disdain, I soon alter'd their note,

For I shut up the principal valve of my throat;

Till the smoke, in vast volumes, pour'd into the room,

And enwrapp'd the loud mob in a horrible gloom,

More fœtid than Vulcan inhal'd with his breath;

More thick than e'er pass'd o'er the threshold of Death;

More choking than Cyclops drank in at their forge;

More rank than the reptile of Thebes could disgorge:

As they gasp'd, it rush'd down their intestines, and clogg'd 'em,

And from _pharynx_ to _rectum_ begrim'd and befogg'd 'em:

While, hoarsely, they growl'd at the house, and the smother,

Though, by knowing the cause, they had curs'd one another.

'Mid their baneful carousals, I've fum'd and I've fretted,

Till from kitchen to garret, I've croak'd, and I've sweated;

By pressure, I made my joints crack--I can't bawl--

And drops, drawn from my heart, ran from every wall:

But, his H----s, not knowing my woes, or displeasure,

Renew'd the broad catch, and refill'd every measure;

While the rascals around him, revil'd the damp mansion,

And my marrow, scorch'd up by the fire's expansion:

Which so heated my fibres and bones--I mean wood--

That a putrescent fever polluted my blood;

Which settled behind the bed's head of the P----e,

And I've not had my health, or my ease, ever since;

Yet I'm sure he would grieve, his politeness is such,

Had he known that a lady had suffered so much.

Thus they swill'd and re-swill'd, and repeated their boozings,

Till their shirts became dy'd with purpureal oozings.

When the _taster_ sought wine of a primary sort,

I have cough'd 'neath the bin, and shook all the old port,

Till 'twas muddy as WILL B----CK'S brains--yet each varlet

Said 'twas as bright as a ruby, and toasting some harlot,

Would then smack his lips, in despite of my labour!

Oh, ye Gods! how I wish'd for a fist and a sabre,

To cut down the hiccupping roist'rers with glee,

That is, if their heads could be injur'd by me.

When WELTJE has cook'd for the half famish'd group,

How oft have I belch'd pecks of soot in his soup:

Yet e'en that could not drive them from board, or from bed,

Though 'twas render'd as black as an Ethiop's head:

When I've made it as foul as a Scot's ragged tartan,

The rogues gulp'd it down, and all swore it was Spartan.

When they've sat near the fire, in knee squeezing rows,

I have spit out a coal, and demolished their hose:

All my grates have breath'd sulphur to stifle their powers;

I'd a watch at my side to beat minutes and hours:

When I've seen a Blight glide 'twixt the earth and the skies,

I've coax'd in the demon, and ruin'd their eyes:

I've edg'd down a poker on legs swell'd with gout,

Till the miscreant has roar'd like swine stuck in the snout;

When Lord---- from my windows was making a beck,

I have hurl'd down my sashes, and wounded his neck;

Though my rage could but bruise him black, yellow and blue,

'Twas a hint that might show what the nation should do:

But each knave all the arts of my anger withstood,

For the leeches will suck while the body has blood.

I'd have prophecied much, had I Cerberus' three tongues;

I would fulminate oaths, but, alas! I've no lungs.

When they thought 'twas an earthquake that palsied my walls,

It was I who was shudd'ring to witness their brawls.

There's no office so dirty but they would fulfil;

There's no sense of debasement could alter their will:

When the munching of immature codlings might gripe him,

They would tear out the leaves of the Psalter to wipe him.

Yet these summer fed vermin will fly him, if e'er

His wintery fortunes should leave his trunk bare;

Then he'll know that but virtue can keep the soul great,

As they'd make their past meanness the _cause_ of their hate!

I have dropp'd lumps of lime in their glasses while drinking;

I've made thieves in the candle to move him to thinking;

I have clatter'd my casements and chairs to confound 'em;

I have let in the dews and the blast all around 'em;

I have elbow'd my timbers 'gainst many a head;

I have stirr'd up the sewers to stink 'em to bed:

Yet this mass of antipathy marr'd my own liver,

And my tears fill'd the gutter like Egypt's deep river.

--My eyes, my dear Coz, are exhausted with crying;

So I'll give o'er at present--I'm yours till I'm dying.

'PAVILION.'

We learn what the society at Brighton was like at this time by the

following excerpt from the _Times_ of July 13, 1796:

'BRIGHTON.--The Prince and Princess of WALES'S arrival has been talked

of much in London; but, as yet, we have no signs of it here. The Duke

and Duchess of MARLBOROUGH pass their time in a very retired manner

indeed. His Grace walked for some time yesterday evening upon the

_Steyne_; the company consisted chiefly of opulent Jews, needy fortune

hunters, broken down Cyprians, fishermen's daughters, and several fat

city dowdies, from the environs of Norton Folgate. Her Grace commands

the play on Friday evening, which will be her _first appearance_ in

public, here, for this season. The Officers of the Blues are the _great

dashers_ of the place; they associate with no one but their own Corps.

The most of them keep their blood horses, their curricles, and their

girls. At one o'clock they appear on the parade, to hear the word of

command given to the Subaltern Guard: afterwards, they toss off their

_goes_ of brandy, dine about five, and come about eight to the Theatre.

_Vivent L'Amour et Bacchus._'

The latter part of this quotation seems to be borne out by the first

of 'TWELVE GOLDEN RULES _for young Gentlemen of Distinction, to be

observed at Brighton for the year 1796_':

'Young and inexperienced officers must confederate with several of

their mess, as young as themselves, and reel into the theatre, during

the performance, in a state of assumed intoxication, and be sure to

disturb the audience in the most important part of the drama, by taking

liberties with any of those Cyprian nymphs who harbour in the green

boxes, and are, unhappily, devoted to insult: by this manœuvre, if

dexterously managed, they will gain three enormous points;--the first

is, the credit of having consumed more wine than their income will

allow; the second is, a disposition for unlimited intrigue; and the

third is, an opportunity of displaying their contempt for good manners,

without any hazard of personal danger.--This behaviour will be totally

out of character if any of the parties have seen service, or arrived at

the years of discretion.

'N.B.--All descendants, or members of the tribes of Israel, must

neither mention lottery tickets, _omnium_, _bonus_, scrip, navy, nor

exchequer bills; they must pay their tradesmen on Saturdays, laugh at

the paschal, eat swine, and shave every day.'

Let us look at Brighton as shown us by a contemporary publication[75]:

'There are two taverns, namely, the Castle, and the Old Ship, where

the richer visitors resort; and, at each of these houses, a weekly

assembly is held, where a master of the ceremonies attends, to arrange

the parties, not according to the scale of morality, but that of

aristocracy. There is a ball every Monday at the Castle, and, on

Thursdays, at the Old Ship; every subscriber pays three shillings and

sixpence, and every non-subscriber, five shillings; for which they

are entitled to a beverage which they call _tea_ and _coffee_.--The

masters of the respective inns receive the profits, except on those

nights appointed for the benefit of the Master of the Ceremonies; to

whom, all who wish to be arranged as people of distinction, subscribe

one guinea--and who would not purchase distinction at so cheap a

rate!--Independently of this vain _douceur_, they must pay most

liberally for their tickets! The card assemblies are on Wednesdays and

Fridays.--There is a hotel, which was intended for a country Hummums,

or grand dormitory; but, in my weak opinion, the establishment is

somewhat inefficient, unless it can be supposed that the tumultuous

equipment of stage coaches, at the dawn of day, is contributory to the

purposes of rest.--There is a theatre, commodious, and, generally,

well directed; the nights of performance are Tuesdays and Wednesdays,

Fridays and Saturdays.--At the lower end of North Street is a sort

of Birmingham Vauxhall, called the _Promenade Grove_; it is a small

inclosure of a paddock, tormented from its native simplicity, befringed

with a few gawky poplars, and decorated with flowers, bowers, zigzag

alleys, a ditch, and a wooden box for the minstrels.--The coast is

like the greater part of its visitors, bold, saucy, intrusive, and

dangerous.--The bathing machines, even for the ladies, have no awning,

or covering, as at Weymouth, Margate, and Scarborough; consequently,

they are all severely inspected by the aid of telescopes, not only as

they confusedly ascend from the sea, but as they kick and sprawl and

flounder about its muddy margin, like so many mad Naiads in flannel

smocks;--the shore is so disastrously imperfect, that those beginners

who paddle in, are injured by the shocking repulsion of the juices

to the brain; and, of those who are enabled to plunge in, and swim

beyond the surge, it is somewhat less than an even bet, that many never

return--in truth, the loss of lives here, every season, would make

any society miserable, who were not congregating in the mart of noisy

folly.--There is a Subscription House, or Temple of Fortune, on the

Steyne, where the minor part of our blessed nobility are accustomed

to reduce their characters and their estates in the same period;--the

signal for admission is _habeo_,--for rejection, _debeo_.--There are

lodgings of all descriptions and fitness, from twenty pounds per week,

on the Cliffs, to half a crown per night in a stable--the keepers of

the lodging houses, like the keepers of madhouses, having but one

common point in view--to _bleed_ the parties sufficiently.--There are

carriages and caravans of all shapes and dimensions, from a waggon to

a fish cart; in which you may move like a king, a criminal, or a crab,

that is, forwards, backwards, or laterally.--There are two libraries on

the Steyne, replete with every flimsy species of novels, involving the

prodigious intrigues of an imaginary society; this kind of recreation

is termed _light reading_; perhaps, from the certain effect it has

upon the brains of my young country women, of making them _light

headed_!--There is a parish church, where the _canaille_ go to pray;

but, as this is on a hill, and the gentry found their Sabbath visit to

the Almighty very troublesome, the amiable and accommodating _master_

priest has consigned the care of his common _parish mutton_ to his

_journeyman_, the curate, and has kindly raised a Chapel Royal for the

_lambs of fashion_, where a certain sum is paid for every seat; and

this, it must be admitted, is as it should be; as a well bred Deity

will, assuredly, be more attentive to a reclining Duchess, parrying

the assaults of the devil, behind her fan, than the vulgar piety of

a plebeian on his knees.--There were books open in the circulating

libraries, where you were requested to contribute your mite of charity

to the support of the rector, as his income is somewhat less than seven

hundred pounds a year; the last incumbent died worth thirty thousand

pounds.'

[Illustration: Decorative motif]

FOOTNOTES:

[74] 'The New Brighton Guide;' London, 1796, 8vo., p. 16.

[75] 'New Brighton Guide,' 1796.

[Illustration: Decorative panel]

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