THE KING'S CHILDREN
The trouble that George III experienced through the misdemeanours of his
brothers and the misfortunes of his sisters was as nothing compared to
the anxiety caused him by his children[277] and notably by his sons.
Yet, bad as was the behaviour of the latter, they might well plead
extenuating circumstances in the shape of their mother and father. The
King could never profit by experience, and he learnt nothing from the
evil results that accrued from the harsh methods employed in the
nurseries of the Princess dowager, with the result that, bringing up his
children on the same lines, he not unnaturally produced similar
effects. The Queen, too, having none of those qualities that promote
happiness in a family and tend to unite it in harmony, was not more
successful as a mother than her consort as a father. "It is not
surprising, therefore, that the younger members of the family longed for
the day when they should be emancipated from the sober state and grim
decorum of the palace. The princes rushed into the brilliant world of
pleasure and excitement which awaited them with headlong impetuosity;
but the less fortunate princesses were doomed to repine in their dreary
captivity, longing for marriage, as the only event which could release
them."[278]
[277] George III had fifteen children by his wife: George, Prince of
Wales (1762-1830); Frederick, Duke of York (1763-1827); William, Duke of
Clarence (1765-1837); Edward, Duke of Kent (1767-1820); Ernest, Duke of
Cumberland and King of Hanover (1771-1851); Augustus, Duke of Sussex
(1773-1843); Adolphus, Duke of Cambridge (1774-1850); Octavius
(1779-1783); Alfred (1780-1782); Charlotte, afterwards Queen of
Wuertemburg (1766-1828); Augusta (1768-1840); Elizabeth, afterwards
Landgravine of Hesse-Homburg (1770-1840); Mary, afterwards Duchess of
Gloucester (1776-1857); Sophia (1777-1848); Amelia (1783-1810).
[278] Massey: _History of England_.
Yet George was fond of his children, especially when they were young. He
interested himself in their education and their pursuits; and it has
been related how when he was talking with a Scotch lady about Scotland,
and suddenly became absorbed in thought, "Your Majesty, I presume, is
thinking about my country," said his companion. "I was entreating God,"
he replied, "to protect and bless my dear boys."
The daughters gave little trouble, except the Princess Royal, who,
according to Mrs. Papendiek, rather set herself against the Queen. "She
was incensed at her mother constantly inviting to Windsor the daughters
of such families as were attached to the Government party, saying that
they could not amuse the King, but only ran idly about the house,
interrupting everybody; and she desired her Lady-in-waiting to say that
she never received any one in the morning. Her Royal Highness now
averred that she had never liked the Queen, from her excessive severity,
that she had doubted her judgment on many points, and went so far as to
say that she was a silly woman."[279] The hand of the Princess Charlotte
was sought in 1796 by the Crown Prince of Wuertemburg; but some delay
occurred before a definite acceptance of the offer was made, as there
was some mystery concerning the fate of the Crown Prince's first wife.
After inquiries, however, George III expressed himself satisfied with
the explanations tendered to him, and in the following year the marriage
took place. The account of her farewell interview with her father shows
that at least the Princess's objection to one parent did not extend to
the other. "The last interview between his Majesty and his royal
daughter was of the most affecting kind. The Princess hung upon her
father's neck, overwhelmed in grief, and it was not until her consort
urged her to close the painful scene, that she could be prevailed upon
to leave her father. The affectionate parent followed her to bid her
farewell, but he was so overcome by the excess of his parental feelings,
that he could not give utterance to his words, and his streaming eyes
looked the last blessing, which his lips could not pronounce." With her
departure from England in May, 1797, this Princess passes out of English
history.
[279] _Court and Private Life._
There was little desire expressed by foreign Princes for an alliance
with the daughters of George III, and this reluctance to marry members
of the English Royal family must be attributed mainly to the knowledge
of European sovereigns and their families of the malady from which the
King suffered. Prince Ferdinand of Wuertemburg, who was in the Austrian
army and had distinguished himself in the taking of Belgrade from the
Turks, came over in 1791 to propose a marriage with Princess Augusta,
then, to quote Mrs. Papendiek, "certainly the most beautiful creature
one could wish to see;" but the King refused his suit, partly because he
was "two removes from the Dukedom," and partly because he would not let
the younger Princesses marry before the elder.[280] Subsequently Louis
Phillippe became engaged to Princess Elizabeth, but he jilted her for
Marie Amelie, daughter of the King of Naples; and after this it looked
as if all the royal ladies would become old maids. Princess Amelia
escaped this fate by contracting a morganatic alliance with General
Fitzroy;[281] and at the age of fifty Princess Mary married William
Frederick, Duke of Gloucester, who had been held in reserve for Princess
Charlotte of Wales in case no other alliance offered.
[280] Mrs. Papendiek: _Court and Private Life_.
[281] _See supra_, vol. ii, p. 282.
Princess Augusta and Princess Sophia remained single; but, when she was
forty-eight, Princess Elizabeth conceived a passion for matrimony. Not
without difficulty a _parti_ was found for the mature lady, and on April
8, 1818, she was united to the Landgrave of Hesse-Homburg, who,
according to all accounts, had an objectionable appearance and a
ridiculous manner. "A monster of a man, a vulgar-looking German
corporal, whose breath is a compound between tobacco and garlic; he has
about L300 _per annum_," so Fremantle described him; but these defects
did not deter the middle-aged spinster. "The Princess of Hesse-Homburg
will redeem the character of good behaviour in the conjugal bonds, lost
or mislaid by her family," wrote Mrs. Trench. "She is delighted with her
_hero_, as she calls him. On his way from the scene of the marriage
ceremony to the Regent's Cottage, where, to his great annoyance, they
were destined to pass the first quarter of the honeymoon, he was sick,
from being unused to a close carriage, and forced to leave her for the
dickey, and put Baron O'Naghten in his place. He said he was not so much
_ennuye_ at the Cottage as he expected, having passed all his time in
his dressing-gown and slippers smoking in the conservatory."[282] The
Landgrave was, indeed, a good man, kind-hearted, fond of books, and with
more learning than the majority of minor German princes, and he
certainly made his wife very happy. "I have so very many things to be
thankful for that I ever feel I cannot do too much to prove my feelings
both towards God and my excellent husband," the Landgravine wrote to
Lady Harcourt on January 21, 1821. "Though I lived in a degree of
magnificence and splendour whilst with my sister, I can with truth say
that I was thoroughly happy to see my own dear little Homburg again."
This, curiously enough, was the only happy marriage contracted by a
child of George III.
[282] Quoted in Fitzgerald's _Family of George III_.
"If anything can make a democracy in England, it will be the royal
family,"[283] wrote Lord Minto, and no one may quarrel with this
statement, nor with the lines of Shelley, in which the ruling caste in
1819 is described:
"An old, mad, blind, despised and dying King,
Princes, the dregs of their dull race, who flow
Through public scorn, mud from a muddy spring."
[283] _Life and Letters of Sir Gilbert Elliot._
All the sons of George III were more or less wild, and all of them
without exception were a source of trouble to their mother and father.
Of those seven who grew up the two that caused least anxiety to their
parents were Augustus, Duke of Sussex, and Adolphus, Duke of Cambridge;
the latter led a quiet life in England until 1816, when he was appointed
Governor of Hanover, and while there married Wilhelmina Louisa, daughter
of Frederick, Landgrave of Hesse-Cassel, by whom he had three children.
The former differed from all his brothers in so far that he had a taste
for literature, and an affection for books. At the age of twenty he
married Lady Augusta Murray and though the marriage, being contracted in
defiance of the provisions of the Royal Marriage Act, was declared null
and void, he did not during her lifetime contract another matrimonial
alliance. After her death, however, he married Lady Cecilia Buggins
(_nee_ Underwood), who was subsequently created by Queen Victoria
Duchess of Inverness in her own right. The Duke was of a retiring
disposition, and, being happy in the library he had formed in his
apartments in Kensington Palace, took no part in the political and very
little share in the social life of his day.
The Duke of Clarence did not come into open conflict with the King and
Queen, and his life was uneventful, with the exception of his connection
with Dora Jordan and his marriage in 1818 with Adelaide, eldest daughter
of the Duke of Saxe-Meiningen. The Duke of Kent, too, interested himself
but little in public affairs, and lived abroad for many years with
Madame St. Laurent, by whom he had twelve children. He was devoted to
this lady, and was fearful lest, to assure the succession, he should be
compelled to marry. Notwithstanding, he expressed his intention to do so
if it should be necessary, though, he said, "God only knows the
sacrifice it will be to make whenever I shall think it my duty to become
a married man." Eventually he married the widow of Charles Louis, Prince
of Leiningen, by whom he had issue, one daughter, Victoria.
Though George III was not on friendly terms with any of his sons, and
was careful to keep them, so far as possible, out of England, it was his
remaining children that caused him the most serious unhappiness. The
Prince of Wales, Frederick, Duke of York, and Ernest, Duke of
Cumberland, were so many thorns in the flesh.
The conduct of the Prince of Wales need here only be referred to, _en
passant_,[284] his behaviour from first to last was marked by no degree
of affection or respect for his parents, or, indeed, by any
consideration of decency. From an early age, encouraged by his uncle and
aunt, the Duke and Duchess of Cumberland, he plunged into debauchery of
every kind. While still in his teens, his _liaisons_ were notorious, his
losses at the cardtable considerable, and his extravagance gigantic.
When he came of age he threw himself into the arms of the Opposition,
and soon was at open enmity with his father. What might have happened if
George III had been a wise parent, or even possessed of ordinary
commonsense, cannot be said, but his methods of strict repression and
his want of sympathetic insight alienated his boys one by one. Even into
the Journal of Mrs. Papendiek, that undiscriminating eulogiser of the
King and Queen, has crept one example of the gracelessness of the
monarch, when, after his illness, wine had been recommended to him in
very small quantities to assist digestion. "As his Majesty had never
taken it he doubted its efficacy. The Prince of Wales sent a few bottles
of the finest Madeira, so he said, that the island had ever produced,
and proposed tasting it with the King when the family dined at four
o'clock. The King thanked his Royal Highness, but said he hoped for the
credit of his gentlemen of the wine cellar, and for the pleasure of
those who partook of such indulgences, that the best was always
provided. For himself it would be his last treat, as he was sure it did
him more harm than good."[285]
[284] The present writer has given a detailed sketch of the life of the
Prince of Wales in _The First Gentleman of Europe_.
[285] Papendiek: _Court and Private Life_.
For a long time the Prince of Wales was his mother's darling, and Miss
Burney has related how in 1786, "the Queen read him that paper from 'The
Tatler' which gives an account of a young man of good heart and sweet
disposition, who is allured by pleasure into a libertine life, which he
pursues by habit, but with constant remorse and ceaseless shame and
unhappiness." "It was impossible for me to miss her object," Miss Burney
commented; "all the mother was in her voice while she read it, and her
glistening eyes told the application made throughout."[286] But the
heir-apparent had neither remorse nor shame, and his conduct wore down
the love of his mother, as in course of time it dissipated the
affection of everyone but Mrs. Fitzherbert, to whom he behaved as
disgracefully as man may behave to woman. The Queen bore with much
neglect, but even she could not pardon her dearest son's conduct when
his father was suffering from the mental malady that broke out in 1788.
Then the Prince, like the graceless heir he was, cared for nothing save
to secure the royal power. He took the government of the Castle into his
own hands and intrigued openly for an unrestricted Regency; but what
affected the Queen, always jealous of her authority, was that he
promptly delegated her to a second place. When Dr. Warren made his
report, not to the Queen, but to the Prince of Wales, she was much
upset. "I think a deeper blow I have never witnessed," Miss Burney
remarked. "Already to become but second, even for the King! The tears
were not wiped; indignation arose, with pain, the severest pain, of
every species."[287] This hit her in her tenderest spot, her dignity was
assailed, and henceforth, with brief intervals of peace following on
reconciliations, she fought tooth and nail against her eldest son. In
the eyes of George III his son's profligate conduct and his extravagance
were terrible, but these were as trifles compared to his publication of
the King's letters in 1803 after a dispute as to the heir-apparent's
right to a military command. When a nobleman was complaining to the King
of his heir's disgraceful conduct, "Yes," said the poor old man, "_but
he has never published your letters_!"
[286] _Diary and Letters of Madame D'Arblay._
[287] _Diary and Letters of Madame D'Arblay._
The Duke of York followed in the footsteps of his elder brother, and
with as good a will gambled and indulged in dissipation, a course he did
not abandon after his marriage with Frederica, the eldest daughter of
Frederick William II of Prussia. Sent on active service to the
Netherlands, he was unsuccessful in the field, and was recalled by Pitt,
much to the anger of the King,[288] who, on his return to England
appointed him Commander-in-Chief, in which capacity he proved himself a
capable administrator. The scandal occasioned by the sale of commissions
by his mistress, Mrs. Mary Ann Clarke,[289] caused him to resign, but,
after an interval, he was reinstated, and held the post until his death.
He was his father's favourite son, but he found the Court so dull that
he seldom stayed under the parental roof; but, though he was not a good
son, he was a weak rather than a bad man, and had many amiable qualities
that endeared him to a large circle of friends.
[288]
"WINDSOR, _November 24, 1794_.
"Mr. Pitt cannot be surprised at my being very much hurt at the
contents of his letter. Indeed, he seems to expect it, but I am
certain that nothing but the thinking it his duty could have
instigated him to give me so severe a blow. I am neither in a
situation of mind, nor from inclination, inclined to enter more
minutely into every part of his letter; but I am fully ready to
answer the material part, namely, that though loving very much my
son, and not forgetting how he saved the Republic of Holland in
1793, and that his endeavours to be of service have never abated,
and that to the conduct of Austria, the faithlessness of Prussia,
and the cowardice of the Dutch, every failure is easily accounted
for, without laying blame on him who deserved a better fate, I shall
not now think it safe for him to continue in the command on the
Continent, where every one seems to conspire to render his situation
hazardous, by either propagating unfounded complaints against him,
or giving credit to them. No one will believe that I take this step
but reluctantly, and the more so since no successor is proposed to
take the command. Truly I do not see where any one is to be found
that can deserve the name now the Duke of Brunswick has declined;
and I am certain he will fully feel the propriety of the resolution
he has taken when he finds that even a son of mine cannot withstand
the torrent of abuse."--Stanhope: _Life of Pitt_.
[289] See the present writer's _The First Gentleman of Europe_, Vol. I,
pp. 309-316.
Of the private life of the Duke of Cumberland the less said the better.
Scandals accumulated around him like leaves on a tree, and most of them,
for example, those connected with Sellis and the birth of Colonel Garth,
are too unedifying to be discussed. There was no shameless crime of
which he was not believed guilty, and he was so deeply loathed by the
people that had he succeeded to the throne there were many who declared
his accession would be followed by a general rising.
[Illustration: _Photo by Emery Walker. From a painting by Karl Anton
Hickel_
THE HOUSE OF COMMONS IN 1793
_To face p. 251, Vol. II_]