[[A.D. 1796.]] |Long before the first year of their marriage was
completed the princess was living almost in solitary confinement at
Brighton, while her good-for-nothing husband was leading the gayest
sort of an existence in London, courted and honored at all the brilliant
parties he attended, and almost ignoring the fact that he had a wife. He
had abandoned his extravagant court at Carlton House for a time, because
he was not entirely satisfied with the revenue that had been settled on
him; so he showed his discontent by assuming a theatrical air of injured
innocence, poked his wife off in the country, and continued his shameful
course.
Then, feeling justly indignant at her husband's neglect, and at the
coldness of all of the royal family, excepting the old king, who was
always her firm friend, the princess was guilty of an indiscretion, the
effect of which went far towards completing her ruin. This consisted
in writing letters to her relations in Brunswick, in which she not only
complained piteously of her own position, but imprudently made use of
very harsh terms towards the queen and the princesses, who she
declared disliked her exceedingly, and seemed to take special pains
to misrepresent her every action. Her situation was without doubt
distressing, and it seems not unnatural for the young wife to yearn for
some sympathizing friend in whose ear she could pour forth her {227}tale
of wrong and regret; but we know that lack of judgment was Princess
Caroline's greatest fault, and it appears plainly in this, instance. She
did not write a dignified, sorrowful appeal to her parents, telling them
of her blasted hopes, and asking advice, for which there might have been
some excuse; but she sent pages of gossip and sarcastic abuse of
her relations in England to various parties in her native land,
tittle-tattle, unwise as it was unrefined, and unladylike.
These letters she confided to the care of Doctor Randolph, a clergyman,
who was going to Germany, and promised to deliver them. All his
arrangements were made for the journey when Mrs. Randolph fell ill,
and it was abandoned. The packet of letters written by the princess was
forthwith returned under cover, addressed to Lady Jersey. That malicious
spy carried them to the queen, by whom they were read, and displayed
among the different members of the royal family, the Prince of Wales
included. Of course this dishonorable action was not reported to the
writer of the letters, who remained in ignorance of their fate for
many years; therefore she continued to suffer from the ever-increasing
coldness and disdain of her husband and his family, excepting the king,
without being able to account for it. She had committed a fault, but
compared with those of the prince it sinks into insignificance; for he
was a heartless, treacherous reprobate from his cradle to his grave.
Princess Caroline had a little daughter born in the early part of the
new year at Carlton House. The father pronounced her a "fine
little girl," and she was christened Charlotte Augusta. The usual
congratulatory addresses were prepared; yet, when the corporation of
London desired to present theirs, they were informed that, as the prince
had reduced his establishment, he was unable to receive {228}them "in
a manner suitable to the situation," yet they might send it to him. To
this they very properly refused to listen, whereupon his royal highness
sent for the Lord Mayor, and gracefully proclaimed his sentiments of
veneration and esteem for the corporation of the city of London with
many lame excuses for not receiving the address. He did not, however,
add that he was at that very moment contemplating a final separation
from the princess, which was his real reason for declining public
rejoicings.
Soon after he went to Windsor to live, and the princess was so lonely
with the few old people selected by the queen to be her companions that
she complained both to the king and the prince. The consequence was a
message sent to her through Lady Cholmondeley, saying that "they ought
to separate." This was no shock to the young mother, who had been
prepared by the prince's neglect to expect nothing better; but, when
this message had been repeated several times, she merely replied, "That
she would be quite happy to live with her husband provided a change was
made in his behavior."
The prince's message was followed by a letter, in which, after writing
"our inclinations are not in our power, nor should either of us be held
answerable to the other because nature has not made us suitable to each
other," he proposed that they should live apart, and meet in society
merely as ordinary acquaintances. The injured wife agreed to this, only
stipulating that the separation should be forever, and concluded her
reply thus: "You will find enclosed a copy of my letter to the king.
As I have at this moment no protector but his majesty, I refer myself
solely to him on this subject; and, if my conduct meets his approbation,
I shall be in some degree at least consoled.
"I retain every sentiment of gratitude for the situation in which I find
myself as Princess of Wales; enabled by your
{229}
[Illustration: 0235]
{231}means to indulge in the free use of a virtue dear to my heart--I
mean charity. It will be my duty likewise to act upon another motive,
that of giving an example of patience and resignation under every
trial."
In this dignified, sensible answer, the prince could see only that he
was to be rid of the creature whom he had used as a tool to relieve him
of his embarrassments, and agreed without a moment's hesitation to her
wish that their separation should be final.
The king attempted to patch up a reconciliation, but did not succeed. He
then suggested an allowance of twenty thousand pounds for the princess,
but she declined any stipulated sum, and declared that her bills should
be sent to the prince for settlement. Public opinion was in favor of
the princess; and the first time she appeared at the opera, after the
separation, she was greeted with a tremendous outburst of applause,
that must have been galling to the prince. It certainly alarmed the poor
lady, who said, "she supposed she should be guillotined on account
of it." She had contrived before this to dismiss Lady Jersey, who was
excessively obnoxious to her, and Lady Carnarvon and Mrs. Fitzroy were
ladies-in-waiting in her stead.
The princess now gathered about her friends well known for their rank
and respectability, all of whom were impressed by her good sense
and discretion. This makes it very clear that she was driven, by a
persistent course of ill-treatment, to the follies of her later life. It
was so painful for her to appear at court, where she met with coldness
and disdain, that she made a humble appeal, both to the king and the
prince, to be relieved from doing so; and the public felt so much
sympathy with her that her request could not be refused. The worthy old
king had a warm feeling for his favorite sister's child, and was grieved
at the indignity she had suffered; so he wrote her a kind, {232}fatherly
letter, urging her to make another attempt at reconciliation with
the prince. His tone throughout was affectionate and sensible, and he
advised her to intimate to her husband that she desired his return, and
to promise that no reproaches should disturb his equanimity if he would
consent. With the belief that the king would not so have written unless
he had reason to suppose that his son was willing to become reconciled
to her, the princess eagerly undertook the task of writing to him, and
for the moment felt buoyed up with the hope of winning him. This is a
copy of her letter:--
"I avail myself with the greatest ardor of the king's desire, whose
letter shows me that you are willing to yield to his wishes, which fills
me with the greatest delight. I look forward with infinite pleasure to
the moment that will bring you to Carlton House, and that will forever
terminate a misunderstanding which, on my side, I assure you, will never
be thought of again. If you do me the honor of seeking my society in
future, I will do everything to make it agreeable to you. If I should
displease you, you must be generous enough to forgive me, and count upon
my gratitude, which I shall feel to the end of my life. I may look for
this as mother of your daughter, and as one who is ever yours."
This humble appeal had no effect on the prince, and, finding it
treated with silent contempt, the princess gave up all hopes of a
reconciliation, and went to live with a few ladies at Montague House,
near Blackheath. Her little daughter was not allowed to accompany her,
but was kept at Carlton House, under the direction of Lady Elgin and
Miss Hayman, the sub-governess.
The prince continued to live at Carlton House, but saw very little of
his daughter, because he had not much time for anything but his own
pleasures, and she constituted no {233}part of them. However, rather
than leave her to the care of her mother, he assumed some concern
for her welfare, and by his gracious and charming manners made a most
favorable impression on Miss Hayman.
[[A.D. 1797.]] The princess visited her daughter about once a week, and
loved the little thing so dearly that she made several applications to
the prince to be allowed to have her at Montague House; but he never
noticed them. Miss Hayman thus describes one of the royal mother's
visits to the nursery:--
"The princess came in to see me and spoke very affably. She asked me
if I did not find the infant wonderfully like the Prince of Wales, and
whether I was fond of children, and added that her little Charlotte had
been naughty, but was now, by Lady Elgin's care, quite good. She stayed
about half an hour, and selected some lace for the baby's frocks.
When Lady Elgin came in she said, 'Miss Hayman must now kiss her royal
highness's hand;' but the princess got up and said, 'Oh, no! We will
shake hands instead,' and turned the whole formality into a jest. She
then began a gossiping conversation on novels, and showed throughout the
warm-heartedness and kindliness, the indiscretion and want of dignity
which, Lord Malmesbury had noticed in her."
Miss Hayman was removed from the royal nursery at the end of three
months, because the princess seemed to favor her: but she was then taken
into service at Montague House, where pleasant parties were often
given, and the friends of the princess contrived to pass the time quite
merrily. Sir Gilbert Elliot, Lord and Lady Wood, the Duke and Duchess
of Hamilton, the Edens, and Lord Thurlow were among the guests, and,
strange to say, the last was friend and adviser to both the Prince and
Princess of Wales. Sir Gilbert Elliot constantly praises the conduct of
the injured {234}wife, and declares that she was utterly undeserving
of "such strange neglect." He said of her besides: "Her countenance is
remarkably lively and pleasing; I think her positively a handsome woman,
but she is a little indiscreet; for she is apt to select any new guest,
to whom she will pour out the whole story of her wrongs, while the rest
stand about and look on."
The Princess Charlotte was sometimes taken to visit her mother. On one
of these occasions she was permitted to remain in the drawing-room
until dinner was announced, and all the guests pronounced her one of the
finest and pleasantest of children. The mother got down on her knees and
romped and played with her child for a long time. When the little girl
became unruly one day, Miss Garth, a lady-in-waiting, said to her, "You
have been so naughty, I don't know what we must do with you."
"You must soot me," she replied,--meaning shoot her.
Although the life of Princess Caroline was in some respects a sad one,
she passed many pleasant hours in company with her friends, dancing,
playing cards, blind man's buff, and other games, interspersed with
musical parties.
[[A.D. 1798.]] After many months the idea of a reconciliation was
broached by the prince and his advisers; but fancying that she saw some
object for which she was again to be made a tool, the shrewd princess
was determined that unless the matter was laid before her in due form
she would treat it according to the example the prince had shown her.
She was right; for Mrs. Fitzherbert, who always considered herself
the only real wife of the Prince of Wales, was again honored by his
attentions. She had been the person selected by himself for a wife, the
Duke of York was her firm friend, the queen was kind and attentive, and
George III. treated her with the tenderness of a father from the time
of her landing in England until he ceased to {235}reign. She was a good
woman, and never in any way gave cause for scandal. On the contrary,
when the prince, her husband, returned to live with her, she gave a
public breakfast in honor of the event, and the following eight years
were very happy ones to this couple.
At this period a taste for the best music and the stage was cultivated
to a remarkable degree by the nobility. Both the king and the Prince of
Wales extended their patronage to the opera, which was a pastime that
only the aristocracy could indulge in, because it was too expensive for
the general public. The royal family attended regularly, and the corps
of actors included a great deal of talent. One of these was Elliston,
who had a curious ad-venture with George III., by whom he had been
commanded to appear in a certain part on his benefit-night.
The monarch had been taking a very long walk, entirely alone, when a
sudden rain storm came up just as he was passing the theatre door. In
he went, and meeting no one passed at once to the royal box, and seated
himself in his own chair. The light in the theatre was dim, the air
somewhat close, and the king, soon succumbing to the influence of both
after his brisk walk, fell asleep. Towards night Elliston entered the
theatre to make sure that everything was in readiness for the play; but
first went to the king's box to inspect that. What was his surprise
to find a man comfortably ensconced in his majesty's own arm-chair? He
raised his hand and was just about to let it descend with a smart blow
on the intruder's shoulder when he recognized the king. What was to
be done? He dared not arouse the royal sleeper, and the time for
the performance was approaching. Suddenly an idea struck him; softly
stepping out of the royal box, he took a violin from the orchestra, and
stationing himself in the pit just under the sleeper's nose, struck up
"God save the King!" Up {236}started his majesty, rubbing his eyes, and
staring at the comedian, who went down on his knees, while continuing
his tune. "Hey! hey! hey! What! what! Oh, yes! I see, Elliston--ha! ha!
ha! Rain came on--took a seat--took a nap. What's o'clock?"
"Approaching six, your majesty."
"Six!--six o'clock!" exclaimed the king. "Send to her majesty--say
I'm here. Stay--stay--this wig won't do--eh, eh? Don't keep the people
waiting--light up--light up--let'em in--let'em in--ha! ha! ha! fast
asleep! Play well to-night, Elliston. Great favorite with the queen. Let
'em in--let 'em in."
The house was illuminated at once; messengers were sent off to the royal
family, and in a few minutes they reached the theatre. At the close
of the performance, the comedian attended the king and queen to
their carriage, and as he held open the door, his majesty laughingly
exclaimed, "Fast asleep, eh, Elliston!--fast asleep! ha! ha! ha!"
[[A.D. 1801.]] By this time the king's health was seriously impaired;
but of his condition and the causes, the chapter devoted to his reign
contains an account. He was always friendly to his daughter-in-law, and
said, again and again: "The princess shall have her child, and I will
speak to Mr. Wyatt about building a wing to her present house." He
meant well, but his mind was so feeble that he was to be depended on for
nothing. The Prince of Wales bothered him, as he was constantly doing
in one way or another, and sent a request through Mr. Addington, who
had succeeded Mr. Pitt as prime minister, to be placed in command of the
army. After a month's delay, the king, who had but a poor opinion of his
eldest son's ability or courage, declared that there was no situation in
the army suited to his rank; and not long after peace was concluded.
{237}
[Illustration: 0243]
[[A.D. 1802.]] {239}This joyful event was celebrated by festivities of
all kinds. The Lord Mayor gave a magnificent entertainment, which the
Prince of Wales attended; and so great was the popular enthusiasm that
the horses were taken from his carriage, and the mob drew it to the
Mansion House. At the close of this feast there was a ball given by
the Gaming Club, in a hall decorated on the most magnificent scale. The
windows were, by some mechanical contrivance, converted into entrances,
hung with festoons of flowers and gilt lanterns containing brilliant
lights. The hall was splendidly illuminated, and the walls were covered
with a rich green and buff paper. Each recess formed a conservatory for
choice plants and trees of rare beauty. There was a grand orchestra,
composed of first-class musicians, and a large band of Indians performed
their war-dances. The Prince of Wales wore a rich Highland costume, and
was comfortably placed in a room appropriated to him and his party.
An adjoining one represented a cave, in which a company of bandits,
consisting of musically-inclined lords, sang comic songs for the
amusement of his royal highness. Many of the foreign ministers were
present, and the ball was pronounced one of the most splendid ever given
in England.
[[A.D. 1804.]] We now turn with pleasure to the young Princess
Charlotte, who had become a most engaging child of eight years. Miss
Berry pictures her with "her face damaged by small-pox to an extent
rarely seen at the time among the higher classes;" and says "that it
frightened her to hear dismal stories, yet able to tell a very good one
herself." She was a bright child, could speak French, knew music, and
was remarkably amiable and good-natured. She had a peculiar little
stammer in her speech, "which she never lost, even after she became a
woman. Miss Gale had succeeded Miss Hayman as sub-governess, and lived
with her {240}charge at a country place known as Shrewsbury House, near
Shooter's Hill.
There are many stories told of her amusing insubordination. She used to
leave the doors wide open, and rush with a shout into Miss Gale's room.
"My dear princess," the lady would exclaim, "you should always shut the
door after you."
"Not! indeed!" returned the little lady; "if you want the door shut,
ring the bell." Then with a laugh she would run off. Sometimes she would
commit a forbidden act, and then say, defiantly, "I have done it,--now
punish me."
Her mother remained at Montague House, always favored and protected
by the king, who was very fond of his grandchild. The princess devoted
herself to music, painting, and modelling, and spent her evenings with
the friends who gathered around her and sympathized with her wrongs.
Although she would at times abuse the prince loudly at her own table,
she always gave her daughter good advice with regard to him. Such
speeches as this were not uncommon: "It must have been an honor and
pleasure to you that your father wished to see you on his birthday, and
I trust you will never in any day of your life deviate from the respect
and attachment which is due to the prince, your father."
The young princess had violent likes and dislikes. Two people for whom
she felt a special aversion were Dr. Fisher, Bishop of Salisbury, and
Mrs. Udney. She shows this in a will which she made before she was nine
years old, from which she excludes both. It ran thus: "I make my will.
First, I leave all my best books and all my books to the Rev. Mr.
Nott. Secondly, to Mrs. Campbell, my three watches and half my jewels.
Thirdly, I beg Mr. Nott, whatever money he finds me in possession of, to
distribute to the poor, and I leave to Mr. Nott all my papers {241}which
he knows of. I beg the Prayer-book which Lady Elgin gave me may be given
to the Bishop of Exeter, and that the Bible Lady Elgin gave me may be
given to him also. Also my playthings the Misses Fisher are to have.
And, lastly, concerning Mrs. Gargarin and Mrs. Lewis, I beg that they
may be very handsomely paid, and that they may have a house. Lady
de Clifford, the rest of my jewels, except those that are the most
valuable; and these my father and mother, the Prince and Princess of
Wales, are to take. Nothing to Mrs. Udney,--for reasons. I have done my
will, and trust that after I am dead a great deal may be done for Mr.
Nott. I hope the king will make him a bishop.--Charlotte." This childish
will, instead of merely exciting a smile on the part of the prince,
caused his serious displeasure. He pronounced it "high treason," and
sent for Mr. Adam, chancellor of the duchy of Cornwall, to get his
opinion on this highly important matter. Meanwhile, the privy council
did not consider it beneath their dignity to put their wise heads
together for consultation about Princess Charlotte's will. The desire
to have Mr. Nott created a bishop never could have originated in that
young brain, they decided. "Your royal highness has a just conception
of the matter," declared Mr. Adam. In short, after the document had
occupied a great deal more time and thought than it was worth, it
was settled that as Mrs. Campbell had been so highly favored, she had
exerted an undue influence over the mind of the little princess, and the
worthy woman was forthwith dismissed from the household.
The king now decided to undertake the education of Princess Charlotte
himself, acting as trustee for the nation. His reason for this step was
that he did not consider his son a proper person even to live in the
same house with her, and it was not expedient that the mother should
take {242}her in charge. The Prince of Wales had not been on friendly
terms with his parents for many months; but Mr. Pitt, who was again in
power, attempted to bring about a reconciliation between him and the
queen. This was not a difficult matter; for the mother's heart naturally
yearned towards her son, and a dutiful note from him was answered
affectionately by her.
In accordance with a desire expressed by the prince that he might be
permitted to throw himself at the king's feet, an appointment was made
for him at Kew; but, although the king went there specially for that
purpose, the prince pleaded illness, and failed to appear. He was not
ill, but very indignant because his father made frequent visits to the
Princess of Wales, to whom he knew that, if he gave up his daughter to
the king, some benefit would accrue. In order to avoid the necessity of
giving his consent to this step he decided to forego the privilege he
had asked. Three months later the interview really did take place,
and the very first person to whom the king made a report of it was the
Princess of Wales. He wrote her a most affectionate note, in which
he assured her that nothing should be decided upon with regard to
the future of her daughter without her concurrence, adding: "For your
authority as a mother it is my object to support."
[[A.D. 1805.]] The king was so fond of his daughter-inlaw that he
presented her with two beautiful Arabian horses and a very costly
service of gold, and frequently expressed a desire to pass as much
time in her society as possible, and to take her under his special
protection.
Having presented the bad sides of the prince's character, it is only
fair to tell something good of him; for we know that "there is good in
all, though none all good," as the proverb says. Here is an anecdote
that indicates kindness of heart. It is thus related by a person who
witnessed the scene:--{243}"Being at Brighton, and going rather earlier
than usual to visit his stables, the prince inquired of a groom, 'Where
is Tom Cross? Is he unwell? I have missed him for some days.'
'Please your royal highness,' answered the groom, hesitatingly, 'I
believe--for--Mr.--can inform your royal highness.' 'I desire to
know, sir, of you. What has he done?' 'I believe--your royal
highness--something--not--quite correct. Something about the oats.'
'Where is Mr.---------? Send him to me immediately.' The prince seemed
much disturbed at what he had heard, as the youth for whom he inquired
was the son of an old, faithful groom, who had died in his service. When
the officer of the stable appeared, his royal highness inquired, 'Where
is Tom Cross? What has become of him?' 'I do not know, your royal
highness.' 'What has he been doing?' 'Purloining the oats, your royal
highness, and I discharged him.' 'What, sir? Send him away without
acquainting me!--not know whither he has gone!--a fatherless boy, driven
into the world from my service, with a blighted character! Why, the poor
fellow will be destroyed. Mr.--------, I did not expect this from you!
Seek him out, sir, and let me not see you until you have discovered
him.' Before many days Tom was found and brought before his royal
master. He hung his head, and the tears rolled down his cheeks. The
prince looked at him for a moment or two, and then said: 'Tom, Tom, what
have you been doing? Happy it is for your poor father that he is gone;
it would have broken his heart to see you in such a situation. I hope
this is your first offence!' The youth was so overcome with shame and
remorse that he wept bitterly. 'Ah, Tom, I am glad to see that you are
penitent,' continued the prince; 'your father was an honest man; I had a
great regard for him; so I should have for you, if you were a good lad,
for his sake. Now, if I desire {244}Mr.--------to take you into the
stable again, do you think I may trust you?' Tom fell on his knees,
implored forgiveness, and promised to reform. 'Well, then, you shall
be restored,' said the prince. 'Avoid evil company; go and recover your
character; be diligent; be honest, and make me your friend; and--hark
ye, Tom--I will take care that no one shall ever taunt you with what is
past!'"
It was by such gracious acts that the Prince of Wales won the gratitude
and admiration of his inferiors. "Do as I say, but not as I do," ought
to have been his motto, for he could advise others so much better than
he could act for himself.
It is always interesting to know what people look like; so here is a
picture of the Prince of Wales as he appeared at the age of forty-two:
"A merry, good-humored man, tall, though somewhat portly in stature, in
the prime of life, with laughing eyes, pouting lips, and nose which very
slightly turned up and gave a peculiar poignancy to the expression
of his face. He wore a well-powdered wig, adorned with a profusion of
curls, and a very large pigtail appended thereto. His clothes fitted him
like a glove; his coat wras single-breasted and buttoned up to the chin.
His nether garments were leather pantaloons and Hessian boots. Around
his throat was a huge, white neck-cloth of many folds, out of which his
chin seemed to be always struggling to emerge."
[A.D. 1806.] Here was an exterior that may have been very attractive
to those who did not know the Prince of Wales for the lazy, vain,
frivolous, weak, dissipated creature that he was; always plunging
himself into some awkward embarrassment by thoughtlessly taking action
where his feelings were aroused. And thus, with a decided hatred for his
injured wife, he chose to pervert every indiscreet or thoughtless speech
or action of hers into the appearance of
{245}
[Illustration: 0251]
{247}crime; for he never could prove anything against her. He bribed
her servants and his own to appear against the princess, when the king
thought fit to institute a court of inquiry; but never were proceedings
more improper or unjust. But the truth prevailed, as it always must,
and the princess came out victorious at last, though not without severe
tests of patience and resignation, that nothing but great, piety and
fortitude could have carried her through. She had warm friends always,
and they gathered about her at this crisis. The most valuable of her
allies was Mr. Perceval, who enthusiastically espoused her cause,
and drew up a statement of her case. This document has always been
considered one of the most powerful and complete defences ever written,
and the author of it had the satisfaction of a splendid triumph. To be
sure, there was considerable delay; for so determined was the prince
upon the ruin of his wife that even when the king was convinced of her
innocence, and willing for her to reappear at court, he adopted every
means to procure further inquiries, and if possible more charges.
[[A.D. 1807.]] An ignominious defeat was his reward; for the council
declared the princess innocent of every charge brought against her, and
she was invited to appear at the queen's drawing-room. The royal family
were all present when she entered, elegantly attired. The king received
her affectionately, the ladies and gentlemen with cordial respect, the
queen with cold, formal courtesy, and the princesses with indifference.
Presently she stood face to face with the prince, her husband, in the
very centre of the apartment, with all eyes fixed on them. They bowed,
exchanged a few common-places, and then passed on,--he as cold as an
icicle, she dignified and triumphant. They never met again; and, strange
to say, instead of profiting by the lesson she had had, and seeking to
retain the favor {248}of the populace, which she certainly had secured,
the princess became so reckless as to alienate even her best friends.
She lived at Kensington Palace, though she still retained her villa at
Blackheath, and held a sort of court, attended by the Tory, nobility,
who knew that the king and Mr. Perceval, then minister, were on her
side. She kept up considerable style, gave and attended balls and
parties, and gathered around her as many lively, witty people as
possible, for she had a special aversion to dull ones. In course of time
an eccentric and somewhat frivolous set of friends replaced the better
class, and had a baneful influence on the princess.
Miss Berry wrote of her at this period: "Her conversation is certainly
uncommonly lively, odd, and clever. What a pity that she has not a grain
of common sense, not an ounce of ballast to prevent high spirits and a
coarse mind running away with her, and allowing her to act indecorously
whenever an occasion offers." This is probably a true picture of her;
for she was always seeking amusement, and would sacrifice propriety
for the sake of getting it. Perhaps she tried in this way to forget her
sorrow; but that does not justify her conduct.
Among the most respectable and powerful of the princess's allies were
Mr. Canning and Mr. Brougham, both prominent statesmen, who were of
great advantage to her for many years.
[[A.D. 1811.]] The king's mental condition became so dreadful that
at last, after repeated relapses, little hope was entertained of his
ultimate recovery, and the Prince of Wales was appointed regent. In
celebration of this event, he gave one of the grandest fêtes at Carlton
House that had ever been witnessed in England. It was considered
ill-timed, because his father's life hung upon a thread, but {249}the
excuse he gave was a popular one; for he said that he desired to
benefit those branches of trade which had suffered so long from the
discontinuance of court splendor. The queen and her daughters were
displeased at the prince's apparent heartlessness, and refused to attend
his fête; but his brothers were present, also the princess's suite,
though she herself was excluded. Princess Charlotte, who had reached
her fifteenth year, was also tabooed, and the letter she wrote on the
subject to Miss Hayman shows how she felt about it.
"My dear Hamy,--But a few lines, as I will write you a longer one soon
again, only to tell you that the prince-regent gives a magnificent ball
on the fifth of June. I have not been invited, nor do I know if I shall
be or not. If I should not it will make a great noise in the world, as
the friends I have seen have repeated over and over again it is my duty
to go there; it is proper that I should. Really I do think it will be
very hard if I am not asked."
It does seem hard, but it is nevertheless a fact, that this little
maiden was not permitted even to be a spectator of all the magnificence
displayed at her father's entertainment. The costumes worn by the ladies
were all new and splendid, and the supper surpassed any that had ever
been given at the other courts. Louis XVIII. and several other members
of the French royal family, then in London, attended the ball by special
invitation from the prince. The host wore a rich scarlet uniform, with a
magnificent badge, diamond aigrette, and jewelled sabre. He received his
royal guests in an apartment fitted up for the occasion with rich blue
silk, brocaded with _fleurs-de-lis_ in gold. The Grecian Hall was
adorned with shrubs and innumerable large lanterns and patent lamps. The
floor was carpeted; and two lines composed of Yeomen of the Guard, and
the servants {250}of the king, the regent, the queen, and the royal
dukes, in their finest liveries, formed an avenue to the octagonal hall
where yeomen were also stationed. That hall was decorated with antique
drapery of scarlet trimmed with gold, and festooned with gold cords and
tassels. A dozen officers and lords received the company. The prince
entered the state-rooms with the royal family of France at a quarter
past nine. During the evening the prince-regent passed from room to
room, and conversed with the utmost cheerfulness and lack of ceremony
with his guests. For some time the company amused themselves walking
about the halls and apartments, and every one particularly admired the
grand circular dining-room, supported by columns of porphyry, and the
elegance of the whole of its arrangements. The room in which the throne
stood was hung with crimson velvet, with gold lace, and fringes. The
canopy of the throne was surmounted by golden helmets, with lofty plumes
of ostrich feathers, and underneath stood the state-chair. The ball-room
floors were chalked in beautiful arabesque devices and divided for two
sets of dancers by crimson silk cord; but the weather was so warm that
little dancing took place in any of the rooms. At two o'clock the supper
was announced, and the company, preceded by the prince and the French
royal family, descended the grand staircase to the temporary buildings
that had been erected on the lawn. Passing through a grotto lined with
shrubs and flowers, they came to a grand table, extending the whole
length of the conservatory, which was two hundred feet. Along the centre
of the table, about six inches above the surface, a canal of pure water
flowed from a silver fountain, beautifully constructed at the head of
the table. Its banks were covered with green moss and aquatic flowers,
while gold and silver fish swam up and down in the current. At the head
of the
{251}
[Illustration: 0257]
{253}table, above the fountain sat the prince-regent, with his most
particular friends on either side of him. They were attended by sixty
waiters; seven served the prince, besides six of the queen's, and six of
the king's footmen in state liveries, and one man in a complete suit of
ancient armor. At the back of the prince's seat were elevated stands,
so arranged as to exhibit to the greatest advantage exquisitely wrought
silver-plate, and near the ceiling was a royal crown, and his majesty's
cipher, G. R., splendidly illuminated. There was also an immense
side-board covered with gold urns, vases, and salvers, and on the top
was a Spanish urn of great value, taken from the 'Invincible Armada.'
There were other tables running in various directions, and places for
the accommodation of two thousand persons. When the whole company was
seated, there was a line of female beauty more richly adorned, and
a blaze of jewelry more brilliant than was ever displayed before in
England. Bands of music were stationed at various points, and performed
choice selections. The upper servants wore a costume of dark blue with
gold lace trimmings, and the assistants were dressed in black suits with
white vests. All the tureens, dishes, and plates were of silver. There
were hot soups, roasts, _entrées_, and all sorts of fine, well-cooked
viands, a profusion of peaches, grapes, pine-apples, and all other
fruits in and out of season. There was iced champagne at every three or
four seats, and other wines in great plenty. The ropes that supported
the tent were gilded and ornamented with no end of wreaths and festoons
of flowers.
The next day the public were admitted to view the decorations, which was
considered a mark of great good nature on the part of the prince. The
crush was so tremendous on that occasion, and the excitement so great,
that when the gates were thrown open many women were {254}knocked down
and trodden upon. Many fainted, shrieks and cries filled the air, limbs
were broken, and clothing torn from the backs of people. At last,
after a great deal of mischief had been done, the Duke of Clarence came
forward and made a speech, which had the effect of tranquillizing the
mob.
{255}