[[A.D. 1812.]]
|The health of the king did not improve; and, as the prince-regent now
held the reins of government, a separate maintenance was provided for
the queen and princesses. This was quite necessary, because the prince
was on bad terms with all his family; besides, he was thinking seriously
of a divorce from Princess Caroline, which he felt more sure of getting
because of his father's inability to protect her. But that matter had
to rest for a while, because his mind was so filled with political
disturbances, the Catholic question, changes in the ministry, and at
last the assassination of Mr. Perceval in the House of Commons. The
prince was entirely under the control of men of small ability, who
advised him so badly that he became exceedingly unpopular, and attacks
of the most stinging and bitter character were made against him in the
papers. Such men as Moore, Charles Lamb, Cruikshank, and Home held him
up to ridicule in the most merciless manner, and, as he was vain and
sensitive, it must have been very galling. Here is one of the verses
written by Charles Lamb, which leaves no doubt to whom it refers:--
THE TRIUMPH OF THE WHALE.
"Io! Paean! Io! sing,
To the finny people's king,
Not a mightier whale than this,
In the vast Atlantic is; {256}
Not a fatter fish than he
Flounders round the Polar sea:
See his blubber at his gills,--
What a world of drink he swills!--
Such a person,--next declare,
Muse, who his companions are:
Every fish of generous kind
Stands aside or drinks behind.
Name or title, what was he?
Is he Regent of the sea?
By his bulk and by his size,
By his oily qualities,
This (or else my eyesight fails),
This should be the Prince of Whales."
[[A.D. 1813.]] Meanwhile, Princess Charlotte had become a handsome young
lady, with _piquant_ manners, that made her very attractive. She loved
her mother and espoused her cause, which excited the jealousy and
indignation of her father to a degree bordering on insanity. She had
not seen her mother for several weeks for some reason, when Princess
Caroline drove to Windsor and demanded to see her child. She was denied,
but had an interview with the queen; during which the latter pointed out
to her that it was the regent who regulated this matter, and no one else
had any authority. The princess was very angry, and a message from the
regent sent by Lord Liverpool, requesting her not to go there again,
did not tend to pacify her. Her reply was, that if she saw the Princess
Charlotte once a week she would obey, otherwise she would certainly
go to Windsor whenever she chose. She knew that she should meet with a
refusal to see her daughter; but she wanted it in black and white.
After consulting several times with Mr. Brougham, the princess at
last resolved to send the queen a letter claiming free access to her
daughter, and complaining that her education was being neglected, and
that she was being {257}kept in too close confinement. The prince was
in such a rage when he read the letter, which was of course sent to him
before it could be answered, that he determined to take his daughter
under his immediate control, and to get rid of the governess to whom she
was attached, because she was supposed to favor her pupil's mother too
much. The prince was shocked when he one day heard his daughter call
the queen "the Merry Wife of Windsor," and reprimanded her for her
disrespect. "Don't you know my mother is Queen of England?" he asked,
sternly. "And you seem to forget that _my_ mother is Princess of Wales!"
retorted the pert young lady.
On the eve of her seventeenth birthday Princess Charlotte wrote a letter
to Lord Liverpool, in which she declared that as her late governess had
been removed, she was now old enough to do without another, and required
an establishment with her own ladies-in-waiting. As she wrote all the
details of the different scenes she had with her aunts and the queen to
her mother, it is probable that she received some secret hints from that
quarter.
One morning the young princess was summoned to appear before her father,
the queen, the lord chancellor, and her aunts. The regent asked her
angrily, "What she meant by refusing to have a governess," adding, "as
long as I live you shall have no establishment unless you marry." She
referred him to her letter for his reply, whereupon both he and the
queen abused her and called her a "perverse, wilful creature."
The chancellor then explained to her, rather roughly, what was her duty,
and she asked him as a father what he would do. He replied, that if the
princess were his daughter he would lock her up. She said not a word,
but on going to the room of one of her aunts burst into tears, and
exclaimed, "What would the king say if he could know {258}that his
grand-daughter had been compared to the granddaughter of a collier?" As
a compromise, the Duchess of Leeds was appointed as governess, merely
in name, and the princess was to have two ladies-in-waiting besides. She
was now a young lady "out" in society, and a ball was given at Carlton
House in honor of her birthday.
Meanwhile, the Princess of Wales sent a letter to the regent, which was
returned unopened. This was repeated several times, when it was decided
by Mr. Brougham and others to publish it. The mother began by saying how
she had waited day by day to see her daughter, but it had been made more
and more impossible. "Our intercourse has been gradually diminished,"
she wrote; "a single interview weekly seemed hardly sufficient for a
mother's affections; that, however, was reduced to our meeting once a
fortnight, and I now learn that this most rigorous interdiction is to
be still more rigidly enforced." Then, after a most touching appeal,
she closes by reminding the regent that their daughter had never been
confirmed.
The effect of this document was marvellous. The whole country was
aroused, and every heart throbbed with indignation at the idea of a
loving mother being so cruelly separated from her child. But the prince
had made up his mind to get rid of his wife, and so employed an eminent
law firm to manage it for him,--by what intrigues and falsehoods he
cared not, so long as it was accomplished.
Parliament declared the princess innocent of any of the charges brought
against her, still intercourse with her daughter was restricted.
That daughter had shown such a spirit of independence that a
household of her own had been established at Warwick House. This was a
dilapidated, gloomy building; but the young princess preferred it to the
fine apartments she occupied at Windsor, because it freed her from the
super-
{259}
[Illustration: 0265]
vision {261}of the queen. The Duchess of Leeds was at the head of the
household, and Miss Knight was lady-companion. She went from time to
time to Carlton House, which was just across the road from hers, but the
prince-regent desired to keep her back as much as possible, and informed
her that all intercourse with her mother must cease for a time. Such a
command had the effect of keeping her at home; for she was so grieved
that for several weeks she refused to attend any public amusements, even
the queen's drawing-rooms.
The Duke of Brunswick was killed on the battle-field of Jena, and his
wife had been forced to seek the protection of her brother, George
III., very soon after. By the time she arrived in England, however, that
brother, who, she always said, "loved her as well as he could anybody,"
was not permitted to see her, and not in a condition to recognize her,
even if he had been. So the poor duchess set up an establishment of her
own not far from her daughter, whose cause she espoused, and to whom her
sympathy was a source of real comfort. Her death, which occurred at this
period, left Princess Caroline an orphan, and deprived her of another
valuable friend.
The princess continued to be popular with the people, though some
gentlemen of high standing had deserted her when the prince became
regent. She dared not visit her daughter, but managed to meet her
clandestinely when she drove out; and when such meetings occurred on
the public highway, crowds would gather around the carriage with loud
demonstrations of approbation; and threatening cries of "to
Carlton House," more than once arose from the mob. Not only was the
prince-regent anxious to get his wife out of the way, but he had a
similar desire regarding his daughter. Her case seemed easy to manage,
if he could only find a husband for her, so he pitched on the Prince
of {262}Orange, a young man who had been educated in England, and was
serving on the Duke of Wellington's staff.
[[A.D. 1814.]] The first time the young princess met him was at a party
at Carlton House, given for that purpose. She looked very pretty in
a dress of violet-satin, trimmed with blonde, and made a favorable
impression on the prince. She did not dislike her suitor; but her
father's eagerness to conclude the match rendered her suspicious,
and set her to making inquiries as to her future position in case she
consented to the marriage. She consulted her mother, who told her that
the match was unpopular with the nation, because they did not wish the
heir to the throne of England to pass most of her time in Holland,
as she would be obliged to do if she married the Prince of Orange.
Furthermore, the Princess of Wales assured her child that all the world
was astonished at her eighteenth birthday having been passed over with
no public testimony of joy. "Oh, but the war, and the great expenses
of the nation, occasion my coming of age to be passed over at present,"
argued Charlotte. "A very good excuse, truly," replied the mother, "and
you are child enough to believe it!"
Thus when the high-spirited girl found that her father's aim was to get
her out of the way, and for that reason was so anxious for her to marry
the Prince of Orange, she began to raise objections, and made such a
struggle that the affair came to a dead stop, and another husband had to
be sought.
All England rejoiced this year because of the defeat of Napoleon and
his exile to Elba. This was a signal for the return of the Bourbons to
France. Louis XVIII. made a public entry into London, escorted by the
regent, on whom he bestowed the order of St. Esprit, in the enthusiasm
of his gratitude for the hospitality he had received. There were only
two people not permitted to take {263}part in the festivities,--the
Princess of Wales and her daughter. The regent escorted the French royal
family to Dover, and the Duke of Clarence attended them to their native
land.
But there were grand doings at hand; for early in June the Emperor
of Russia, the King of Prussia, the czar's sister, the Grand Duchess
Catherine, Blucher, the great general, and many other distinguished
foreigners visited London, and the whole city went wild over these
visitors. The queen gave two drawing-rooms, and, on hearing that it was
the intention of the Princess of Wales to be present, her majesty wrote
her that as the regent had declared it to be his fixed and unalterable
intention never to meet her in public or private, she would not be
received. It was only after a great deal of persuasion on the part of
her friends that the princess consented to stay away; but she wrote to
the regent and told him she would not stand such treatment. Her letter
was not noticed, and, rather than submit to further indignities, she
began to think about leaving the country, where she had known nothing
but insults and neglect.
A series of fêtes and banquets were given to the illustrious visitors;
one of them by the merchants, and another by the Lord Mayor, which had
seldom been surpassed in magnificence. During his progress through the
streets with his guests the regent was incessantly hissed, and the mob
called out, "Where's your wife?" much to the chagrin of the host, who
was anxious to appear at his best. The princess was excluded from the
banquets, but she went to the opera on the night when all the potentates
were to be present. Her lady-in-waiting thus describes the scene:--
"When we arrived at the opera the regent was placed between the emperor
and the King of Prussia, and all the {264}minor princes were in a box
to the right of them. 'God save the King' was being played when the
princess entered, consequently she did not sit down. As soon as the air
was over the whole pit turned to the princess's box and applauded her.
We entreated her to rise and make a courtesy; but she sat immovable, and
at last she said to one of her ladies, 'My dear, Punch's wife is nobody
when Punch is present!' 'We shall be hissed,' suggested one of the
gentlemen. 'No, no,' replied the princess, with a good-humored laugh,
'I know my business better than to take the morsel out of my husband's
mouth, I am not to seem to know that the applause is meant for me until
they call my name.' When his royal highness left the theatre, at the
close of the performance, the audience called for the princess, and gave
her a warm applause. She then went forward and made three courtesies,
and hastily withdrew. When the coachman attempted to drive home, the
crowd of carriages was so great that he was obliged to turn out of his
road and pass Carlton House. As soon as the mob discovered the princess,
they surrounded her carriage, and huzzaed her loudly. Some of them
opened the doors and insisted on shaking hands with her, and asked if
they should burn Carlton House. 'No, my good people,' she said; 'be
quite quiet: let me pass, and go home to your beds.'"
The Princess of Wales was very anxious to have a visit from the Emperor
of Russia, and he set out one day with the intention of calling on her,
when one of the ministers pursued him in hot haste and implored him, in
the name of the regent, to turn back.
In the crowd of kings and princes who visited England at this period was
Prince Leopold of Saxe-Coburg, a young man of two and twenty, who struck
the fancy of Princess Charlotte the very first time she saw him. He
{265}had brought a letter to her from the Duke of Brunswick, and she
was so pleased with him that she complained to her aunt, the Duchess
of York, saying that she would like to know him better, but had no
opportunity, because she was not permitted to attend any of the balls.
So the duchess gave one specially for her, and the more she saw of
Prince Leopold the better she liked him. In the park he would ride near
the carriage, and showed plainly that he reciprocated her admiration. He
courted and flattered the regent, offended no one, and made himself so
popular that after he went away the regent declared him to be a most
honorable, worthy young man.
The Princess of Wales had made up her mind to leave England. It was an
unwise step, and Mr. Brougham advised her to abandon it; but, with the
obstinacy of a weak person who will not be convinced, she refused to
listen to his advice. She made a formal application to Lord Liverpool
for permission to reside abroad; this was granted, and parliament made
her a liberal allowance. On the 2d of August she embarked on board the
frigate "Jason," under the name of the Countess of Wolfenbuttel, and
started on her pilgrimage. It is said that on her arrival in Germany she
contrived to see Prince Leopold and hand him a letter from her daughter.
This is probable, because she favored the match, and was capable of an
undignified act, such being the case.
The Prince of Coburg made no sign, having very wisely decided to await
an invitation from the regent before again appearing in England.
[[A.D. 1816.]] But the young princess was fretting her heart out,
because she fancied that he had forgotten her. She had no sooner
completed her twentieth year, however, than she quite unexpectedly
received a message that she was to go with the queen to Brighton,
where a surprise awaited {266}her. She obeyed, wondering what it could
possibly be, and was received on her arrival there by her favored
suitor. The young lady was happier than she had been in many a day; and,
as all the royal family were pleased at her choice, arrangements for her
wedding were soon made, and the ceremony took place in May. Claremont
House was purchased and handsomely fitted up for the young couple, and
shortly after their marriage they went there to live. Every time they
appeared in public they met with a most enthusiastic reception; and this
displeased the regent very much, for he was greeted with nothing but
complaints on every side. The married life of the Princess Charlotte
was extraordinarily happy. She was known by the country people for miles
around, and dispensed so many benefits among them that every visit of
hers was like a ray of sunshine. In her own household she was a queen,
beloved and respected by her husband, and by all who approached her. So
happy were this couple in their domestic life that they cared little for
the gayeties of London, and seldom went to town.
[[A.D. 1817.]] Now we must turn to the "Countess of Wolfenbüttel," and
follow her in her travels. She was accompanied by Mr. St. Leger, Sir
William Gell, Mr. Craven, Dr. Holland as physician, and Captain Hesse
as equerry. She went first to Brunswick, where she was received by her
brother and all the inhabitants with the heartiest of welcomes; but a
spirit of restlessness had taken possession of her, and she could stop
nowhere very long. The governors of the German cities all treated her
with respect and courtesy as she passed along, but before she reached
Switzerland Mr. St. Leger had withdrawn from her train, for some reason
not reported. A greater portion of the month of September was passed at
Geneva, where the "Countess" met Marie Louise, the ex-Empress of France,
{267}and the two ladies were for a time on very intimate terms. But the
countess dressed so absurdly, and made such a spectacle of herself, that
the gentlemen who had accompanied her from England were shocked.
In October the Princess of Wales, as we shall continue to call her,
because we know her best by that title, arrived at Milan. There she took
one Bartholomew Bergami, a handsome Italian, into her service, and made
him her chamberlain. Wherever she went she behaved so unlike a lady
that she was thought by many people to be insane; and, as she passed
on through Italy, her English attendants fell off one by one. She
complained that they were tyrants, but it is probable that they only
gave her good advice, which she was silly enough to ignore. Spies were
watching her wherever she went; she was well aware of it, and acted all
the more recklessly in defiance of her enemies. She purchased a villa at
the Lake of Como, and made a companion of Bergami, whom she allowed to
sit at table with her, thus bestowing honors with little judgment. At
one of her festivals at Como her conversation was so thoughtless and
silly that a friend asked her if she did not know that every word and
action of hers was reported at Carlton House within a fortnight. "I know
it," she replied, "and therefore do I speak and act as you hear and see.
The regent will hear it? I hope he will, for I love to mortify him."
Thus did this foolish woman effect her own ruin with deplorable
obstinacy. From Como she went to Palermo, and thence to Genoa,
everywhere dancing, sightseeing, and feasting, as though life were worth
nothing unless passed in gayety.
At Genoa the princess had a superb palace, where she surrounded herself
with Italians, and held her court, which was attended by the nobility.
Reports derogatory to the princess's character were constantly reaching
the regent, {268}who, anxious to catch at any straw that might enable him
to obtain the divorce he longed for, sent a commission to Italy to
investigate her actions.
The following seven months were spent in continual travelling and change
of scene, during which the princess visited Sicily, Tunis, Carthage, and
many other places of note. In the spring she went to Athens, and thence
to Constantinople, and by the middle of July she was in the holy city of
Jerusalem. There she was received cordially by the Capuchin friars, and
established the "Order of St. Caroline." After making a flying visit to
Jericho, and suffering from the fierce heat of the sun, the princess and
her attendants were glad to take to the sea again, and in course of
time reached Rome. A brief sojourn in that city satisfied the royal
traveller, who then returned to the Villa d'Este, on the Lake of Como,
and began to sign herself Caroline d'Este.
A few months later she repaired to Carlsruhe on a visit to the Grand
Duke of Baden; but her reception was not such as to induce her to
prolong her stay; and when she appeared at Vienna contemptuous neglect
awaited her. English families had long since ceased to show her respect;
and from the time of her leaving her home to become a wanderer nobody is
to blame but herself for whatever ill-treatment she experienced. Up to
that period all the world sympathized with her, but they could do so no
longer.
Towards the close of the year the sad news of the sudden death of
her daughter, the Princess Charlotte, reached her. She bore it with
wonderful calmness, and wrote to a friend in England: "I have not only
to lament ah ever-beloved child, but a most warmly attached friend, and
the only one I have in the kingdom. But she is only gone before. I have
not lost her, and I now trust we shall soon meet in a much better world
than the present one."
{269}
[Illustration: 0275]
[[A.D. 1818.]] {271}Three of the royal dukes married this year, and
towards its close, Queen Charlotte, who had been declining for many
months, died suddenly while sitting in a chair.
[[A.D. 1819.]] The Duke of Kent, George III.'s fourth son, had married
Princess Victoria of Leiningen. The event had no connection with this
reign; but we mention it merely to announce the birth of their daughter,
which occurred on the twenty-fourth of May. It was not supposed that she
would ever mount the throne, therefore her appearance in the world was
not considered of great importance. She was christened in June, and
received the name of Alexandra Victoria. The baptismal ceremony took
place in the grand saloon of Kensington Palace, in presence of the
regent and other members of the royal family. The Emperor of Russia was
god-father. As this princess is the present Queen of England, we shall
have more to say about her by-and-by.
[[A.D. 1820.]] The great bell of St. Paul's announced the death of
George III. at midnight, on January 29, and the accession of George IV.
Before ten days had elapsed the new king was again embroiled with his
ministers on the subject of a divorce from his wife, who, having met
with a series of insults and petty slights at the various courts of
Europe, had made her way to St. Omer, where she awaited her legal
advisers before deciding on her future course.
It was Mr. Brougham and Lord Hutchinson who met her there, the latter
with a proposition, that as the death of George III. left her without
income, the king would grant her fifty thousand pounds per annum on the
condition that she would remain on the continent, surrender the title of
queen, and never, under any pretext whatever, set foot in England.
She refused the proposal with infinite {272}scorn, and declared her
intention to proceed to England. This was the result of Mr. Brougham's
advice, for he was always friendly to Caroline, and knew that her
acceptance of Hutchinson's proposal would be most injurious to her
character.
No sooner had her interview closed with the envoys from the king, than
Queen Caroline, without a moment's delay, proceeded to Calais, dismissed
her Italian followers, and, attended only by Alderman Wood and Lady
Anne Hamilton, embarked on board the packet "Leopold," then lying in the
harbor. She did not sail until the next morning, and reached Dover about
noon. Much to her surprise a royal salute greeted her, and the whole
town lined the shores to welcome their queen. Her progress to London was
a perfect ovation, and by the time she reached the metropolis so many
mounted persons had joined her that she found herself escorted by a vast
cavalcade. It was seven o'clock in the evening when she passed through
the city; and such crowds gathered to see her that the streets were
almost impassable, and the windows were filled with eager faces and
waving handkerchiefs. So great was the excitement that Carlton House had
to be guarded, for threatening yells and cries arose from all sides.
The queen found refuge at the house of Alderman Wood, and no sooner was
she domiciled there than the ministers met to decide what course was to
be pursued with regard to her for the peace and well-being of the United
Kingdom. Each one carried a "green bag," which was supposed to contain
a copy of the report made by the Milan spies, or commissioners, as they
were called, on the conduct of the Princess of Wales, now queen, while
she was travelling abroad. Meanwhile the king had the humiliation of
hearing the hussars of his own regiment shout, "Long live the queen!"
and it was reported to him how at the Toy Tavern, {273}Hampton Court,
where they were quartered, a dozen or more of them had stood up and
drank her health with a pot of porter.
Mr. Brougham threw himself heart and soul into the queen's cause, and
conducted it in a masterly manner, showing himself a man of courage and
ability. He was ably assisted by Canning, who warned and threatened the
House of Lords, and boldly declared, "that his affection and respect for
the queen were undiminished, and that he considered her the grace and
ornament of every society."
While the trial was pending, the queen took possession of Brandenburgh
House, where she daily received large mobs, who came with addresses of
sympathy. The numerous amusing scenes created by these deputations
were not lost sight of by the queen's opponents, who made such bitter
attacks that the more respectable class, who were inclined to support
her, were thereby driven away.
Having established herself comfortably, the queen sent for all her
Italian attendants, who arrived in London in August,--several boatloads
of them,--for the queen's house was on the river, and the government had
so barricaded Westminster Bridge that it could be approached in no other
way. So many Italians congregated together under one roof excited no
little curiosity among the London rabble, who hovered around them and
watched them as a cat does a mouse. On the seventeenth of August, the
day fixed for the trial to begin, the city was in a perfect ferment.
Bands of soldiers and police were stationed at every corner, and the
space between St. James's and the houses of parliament was crammed with
people soon after daylight.
As the peers began to arrive they were greeted with hisses, and groans,
or loud cheers,--according as they opposed or defended the queen. The
Duke of Wellington, who was prominent in the opposition, frequently had
his horse {274}stopped by people who would shout in his face, "No
foul play, my lord!--the queen forever." He would answer in his
characteristic style, "Yes, yes, yes;" and once, it is said, he added
good humoredly: "And may all your wives be like her!" A perfect roar
of voices and deafening shouts of applause greeted the arrival of her
majesty's carriage each day; and as she passed Carlton House the crowd
jealously watched to see whether the guard on duty presented arms.
Fortunately they did, for they would otherwise have been torn to pieces.
"God bless your majesty! We'll give our blood for you! The queen or
death! May you overcome your enemies!" were the exclamations that arose
on all sides as Queen Caroline passed along.
A confused sound of drums and trumpets announced her arrival at the
house. The peers rose as she entered, and remained standing until she
took her seat in a crimson and gilt chair, placed immediately in front
of her counsel. Her appearance was not prepossessing; for she wore a
black satin dress with a high ruff, and an unbecoming broad hat with a
huge bow, and a bunch of ostrich plumes. On her head was a curled black
wig, and her eyebrows were painted. Considering that nature had given
her blue eyes and light hair, these artificial additions were not in
keeping with her other characteristics, and gave her a bold, defiant,
unattractive air.
It was embarrassing to the lords to have the queen present every day;
but, as she could get no information as to the charges brought against
her, she was resolved to be there.
Lord Liverpool's bill, which favored the king in every particular,
concluded by proposing that "Caroline Amelia Elizabeth should be
deprived of her rights, rank, and privileges as queen, and that her
marriage with the king be dissolved and disannulled to all intents and
purposes." {275}We do not propose to give the details of the "queen's
trial" as it dragged its slow length along. The bill passed by a
majority of nine only, and they consisted of the members of the cabinet,
who dare not vote as they chose. No action could be taken upon so
small a majority, yet the queen can scarcely be said to have achieved
a victory. The case had been unfairly tried, and the popular voice
declared it so. She had made several attempts to have her name restored
to the liturgy, and refused to accept an income offered by the king
unless that was done. At last she was forced to abandon that request,
much to the disappointment of her friends, and to accept the fifty
thousand pounds a year.
[[A.D. 1821.]] The king's attention was now turned towards his
coronation, which was to be managed on a most magnificent scale; for
never was there a man more fond of display and theatrical effect than
George IV. Queen Caroline immediately addressed Lord Liverpool on
the subject, claiming her right to take part in the ceremony. Much
correspondence, arguments, and discussions with legal advisers on both
sides ensued, and the result was the entire exclusion of her majesty.
She then addressed a note to the Archbishop of Canterbury, informing him
of her desire to be crowned some day, within a week after that ceremony
was performed for the king. The archbishop's answer was, "that he was
the king's servant, and was ready to obey any command that he might
receive from his royal master."
All this anxiety and disappointment began to tell on the poor queen's
health, and she was ill and suffering, when, with her usual spirit and
energy, she presented herself at the grand door of Westminster-Hall on
the morning of the coronation, and demanded admittance as a spectator.
She had started from Brandenburgh House at six o'clock, with {276}Lord
and Lady Hood and Lady Anne Hamilton in attendance,-in a carriage drawn
by six white horses. No person could enter the hall without a ticket,
and, as the queen had none, an officer on guard respectfully declined
allowing her to pass. She felt the insult keenly, but laughed and
chatted in a flippant manner as she turned away. It was a pitiable
sight,--that of the queen going to every door in turn, and being turned
away because she could not show the indispensable ticket. Lord Hood
suggested that on account of her rank the queen should not be bound by
the rules which governed others; but the doorkeepers were inexorable,
and there was nothing left but for her to enter her carriage and go back
home, humiliated, almost crushed.
George IV. had spent days and nights with his tailor and friends,
discussing and selecting the various articles in which he was to appear
on the grand occasion. His robes are said to have cost twenty-five
thousand pounds, and his jewels were gorgeous. Never was a more
magnificent scene witnessed than that which marked the coronation
ceremony of George IV., and never did monarch labor harder to make it
so.
Poor Queen Caroline's nervous system had sustained a shock from which it
could not rally, and three months after the king's coronation she died.
On the second of August she was attacked with her last illness, and
after five days of intense suffering sank into a stupor, from which she
never awoke. She was conscious of her condition, made her will, and gave
all the necessary directions for the disposal of her body. She died on
the seventh of August, 1821, at the age of fifty-three.
Her will contained a clause to this effect: "I desire and direct that my
body be not opened, and that three days after my death it be carried to
Brunswick for interment,
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[Illustration: 0283]
{279}and that the inscription on my coffin be, 'Here lies Caroline of
Brunswick, the murdered Queen of England.'"
The king was in Ireland while his wife was dying. There he was
magnificently feted and escorted wherever he stopped. He made speeches
to flatter his Irish subjects, promises that he never intended to
fulfil, and received attentions that were remarkable for nothing more
than their insincerity.
Lord Byron gave vent to his contempt of the whole proceeding in the
following lines:--
THE IRISH AVATAR.
"Ere the daughter of Brunswick is cold in her grave,
And her ashes still float to her home o'er the tide,
Lo! George the triumphant speeds over the wave,
To the long-cherished isle which he loved like his bride.
But he comes! the Messiah of royalty comes!
Like the goodly Leviathan roll'd from the waves!
Then receive him as best such an advent becomes,
With a legion of cooks and an army of slaves.
Is it madness or meanness that clings to thee now?
Were he God--as he is but the commonest clay,
With scarce fewer wrinkles than sins on his brow--
Such servile devotion might shame him away.
Spread, spread for Vitellius the royal repast,
Till the gluttonous despot be stuffed to the gorge;
And the roar of his drunkards proclaim him at last,
The fourth of the fools and oppressors called 'George.'"
Grief was great throughout the kingdom at the death of Queen Caroline.
Fearing that the funeral might prove the occasion of a popular
demonstration, it was resolved that the body should not pass through the
city, but be taken through roundabout and private roads. In a pouring
rain the procession started. It consisted of a {280}hearse emblazoned
with escutcheons and drawn by eight horses, heralds, twelve
mourning-coaches, and six squadrons of soldiers. At every turn
barricades had been placed by an angry and excited crowd, who, amid
yells of triumph, saw the authorities yield to the course _they_ had
determined on, and, contrary to imperative instructions, pass with
the _cortège_ through some of the most public thoroughfares. But the
excitement was intense; the soldiers were attacked with brickbats and
stones, and several people were killed.
It took two days to get to Harwich; and, just before the coffin was
placed on the man-of-war that awaited it, the discovery was made that
the plate which Queen Caroline had ordered had been replaced by another
bearing a simple inscription. The interment took place at Brunswick,
after night, on the twenty-fourth of August.
The king survived until June 26, 1830. When he was dying, a letter was
brought to him from Mrs. Fitzherbert, in which that worthy lady
offered to watch over and soothe his last moments. After his death her
miniature, attached to a red cord, was found hanging from his neck,
where, it is supposed, he always wore it.
One historian justly says of George IV., that he was jovial, epicurean,
good-natured; offering a disastrous spectacle of a life wrecked by
self-indulgence and an unbounded love of pleasure.
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[Illustration: 0287]
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