THE MARRIAGE OF THE PRINCESS ROYAL.
1733–1734.
Soon after the withdrawal of the excise scheme the King sent a message
to Parliament with the news that his eldest daughter, the Princess
Royal, was betrothed to the Prince of Orange. The match was not a
brilliant one, for the Prince was deformed, not of royal rank, and
miserably poor. But the “Prince of Orange” was still a name to be
conjured with among the Whigs and the Protestant supporters of the
dynasty generally, and the announcement was popular, as a further
guarantee of the Protestant succession. The Government regained some
of the credit they had lost over the excise scheme and Parliament
willingly voted the Princess a dower of £80,000, which was double the
sum ever given before to a princess of the blood royal.
The Princess Royal had no affection for her betrothed, whom she had
never even seen, but she was exceedingly anxious to be married. It was
said at court that the King of France had once entertained the idea
of asking her hand in marriage for the Dauphin, but her grandfather,
George the First, would not listen to it on account of the difference
of religion. There was no evidence to support this story, and it was
certain that since George the Second had ascended the throne no suitor
of any importance had come forward; so that, despite his drawbacks,
the Prince of Orange was the best husband that could be got. Indeed,
it seemed as though it were a choice between him and no husband at
all. The Prince of Wales was exceedingly indignant with his sister for
getting married before him, and so obtaining a separate establishment,
a thing for which he had hitherto asked in vain. He need not have
envied her, for she was making a match that would satisfy neither her
love nor her ambition.
The Queen showed no enthusiasm for the marriage, and the negotiations
were unduly prolonged. Months passed before everything was settled, and
it was November before the Prince of Orange set out for England and
his intended bride. A royal yacht was sent to escort him to English
shores, and, according to a journal: “The person who brought the
first news of the Prince of Orange being seen off Margate was one who
kept a public house there; who, upon seeing the yacht, immediately
mounted his horse and rode to Canterbury, where he took post horses
and came to St. James’s at eleven o’clock on Monday night. Her Majesty
ordered him twenty guineas and Sir Robert Walpole five. Twenty he hath
since laid out on a silver tankard, on which his Majesty’s arms are
engraved.”[104]
Probably this messenger was the only person who had reason to rejoice
at the arrival of the Prince of Orange. The Prince was lodged in
Somerset House, and many of the nobility went to wait upon him there,
hoping by paying him their court to please the King. They little
knew that the King and Queen were in their hearts opposed to the
match, and had only yielded to it from political exigencies, and the
impossibility of finding any other suitable suitor for their daughter.
The Queen sent Lord Hervey to Somerset House with orders to come back
and tell her “without disguise what sort of hideous animal she was
to prepare herself to see”. The Prince was not nearly so bad as he
had been painted, for though he was deformed, he had a pleasant and
engaging manner. The Queen seemed more interested in the appearance
of the future bridegroom than the bride herself, for the Princess
Royal, when she heard of the arrival of her lover, continued playing
the harpsichord with some of the opera people as though nothing had
happened. “For my part,” said the Queen, “I never said the least word
to encourage her in this marriage or to dissuade her from it.” The
King, too, left the Princess at liberty, but as she was determined to
marry some one, and as the Prince, though not a crowned King, was the
head of a petty state, she said that she was willing to marry him.[105]
The King then remembered his duty as a father, and not too nicely
warned his daughter of the Prince’s physical unattractiveness, but she
said she was resolved, if he were a baboon, to marry him. “Well, then,
marry him,” retorted the King in a huff, “and you’ll have baboon enough
I warrant you.”
The wedding was arranged to take place immediately after the arrival
of the bridegroom elect, but as ill-luck would have it the Prince
fell sick of a fever, and for some months lay dangerously ill. During
the whole time of his sickness none of the Royal Family went to visit
him, or took any notice of him, by command of the King, who wished to
inculcate the doctrine that before his marriage to the Princess the
Prince of Orange was nobody, and could only become somebody through
alliance with the Royal Family. The Prince, though he must have felt
this neglect, behaved with great good sense, and as soon as he was able
to go out, he went to St. James’s Palace to pay his respects as if
nothing had happened. He had an interview with his future bride, and
stayed to dinner with the princesses informally. When the King heard of
it he was very angry, and forbade them to receive him any more without
his permission. The occasion did not arise, for a few days later the
Prince of Orange went to Bath for a cure, and did not return to London
until a fortnight before his wedding.
The marriage took place on March 14th, 1734. The Princess Royal, who
had maintained an impassive front throughout her engagement, neither
evincing pleasure at the Prince’s arrival, nor sorrow at his illness,
showed the same impassive demeanour at her wedding. The ceremony took
place at night in the Chapel Royal, St. James’s. A covered gallery of
wood was built outside, through which the procession had to pass. This
gallery gave great offence to old Sarah, Duchess of Marlborough, who
could see it from her windows of Marlborough House. It had been erected
when the wedding was first settled to take place, four months before,
and she was indignant at its being left standing so long. “I wonder,”
she said, “when neighbour George will remove his orange chest.” On
the night of the wedding, the “orange chest” was illuminated from end
to end, and accommodated four thousand people who were favoured with
tickets to see the processions pass. At seven o’clock in the evening
the bridegroom with his attendants was waiting in the great council
chamber of St. James’s, the bride with her ladies was ready in the
great drawing-room, and the King and Queen, with the rest of the Royal
Family were assembled in the smaller drawing-room. Three processions
were then marshalled, that of the bridegroom, that of the bride, and
that of the King and Queen. The Chapel Royal was upholstered for the
occasion more like a theatre than a place of worship, being hung with
velvet, gold and silver tissue, fringes, tassels, gilt lustres, and so
forth. The Prince of Orange was magnificently clad in gold and silver,
and as he wore a long wig that flowed down his back and concealed his
figure, he made a more presentable appearance than was expected. The
Princess Royal was also gorgeously attired; she wore a robe of silver
tissue, and her ornaments included a necklace of twenty-two immense
diamonds; her train, which was six yards long, was supported by ten
bridesmaids, the daughters of dukes and earls, who were also clad
in silver tissue. The Queen and her younger daughters were visibly
affected during the ceremony, and could not restrain their tears at the
sacrifice they considered the Princess was making. The King, who had
shown himself very restive before the wedding, behaved very well on
the day, but the Prince of Wales, though he was tolerably civil to the
bridegroom, could not bring himself to be cordial to the bride.
At twelve o’clock, the Prince and Princess of Orange supped in public
with the Royal Family, and after the banquet, which lasted two hours,
came the most curious part of the ceremony. The English Court had
borrowed a custom from Versailles, and a most trying one it must
have been for the bride and bridegroom. As soon as the Prince and
Princess of Orange had retired, the whole court were admitted to see
them sitting up in bed--that is to say, the courtiers passed through
the room and made obeisance. The bridegroom, now that he had doffed
his fine clothes and peruke, did not look his best, but the bride
maintained her self-possession, even under this ordeal. Referring next
morning to the sight of the princely pair in bed, the Queen exclaimed:
“Ah! mon Dieu! quand je voiois entrer ce monstre pour coucher avec ma
fille, j’ai pensé m’évanouir; je chancelois auparavant, mais ce coup
là m’a assommée.”
The Princesses bewailed the fate of their sister quite as much as their
mother. Princess Amelia declared that nothing on earth would have
induced her to marry such a monster. Their lamentations were wasted.
The Princess of Orange, to her credit be it said, determined to make
the best of her husband, and she behaved towards him in a most dutiful
manner, and made his interests her own.
The Prince and Princess of Orange stayed in England for six weeks after
their marriage, and the Prince bade fair to become a popular hero.
For the time, he quite outshone the Prince of Wales as the idol of
the hour. This was very noticeable at the theatre; when the Prince of
Wales came into the house he was received with but moderate applause,
but the instant the Prince of Orange appeared the whole theatre rang
with shouts and cheers. The King, too, noticed these signs of popular
feeling and became jealous, and anxious to send his son-in-law back
to Holland as soon as possible. The King was exceedingly unpopular,
and the “Prince of Orange” was an ominous name in England to a royal
father-in-law. The City of London, the University of Oxford, and many
towns presented addresses on the occasion of the marriage of the
Princess Royal, which, though couched in complimentary language, yet
contained many covert sarcasms. They dwelt so much on the services
rendered to England by a Prince who bore the name of Orange, and
expressed so fervently the hope that this Prince might follow his great
namesake’s example, that it almost seemed as if they wished him to
depose his father-in-law, as William of Orange had deposed King James.
The address of the City of London, for example, was thus paraphrased:--
Most gracious sire behold before you
Your prostrate subjects that adore you--
The Mayor and citizens of London,
By loss of trade and taxes undone,
Who come with gratulations hearty
Altho’ they’re of the Country Party,
To wish your Majesty much cheer
On Anna’s marriage with Mynheer.
Our hearts presage, from this alliance,
The fairest hopes, the brightest triumphs;
For if one Revolution glorious
Has made us wealthy and victorious.
Another, by just consequence,
Must double both our power and pence:
We therefore hope that young Nassau,
Whom you have chose your son-in-law,
Will show himself of William’s stock,
And prove a chip of the same block.
[Illustration: ANNE, PRINCESS ROYAL, AND THE PRINCE OF ORANGE.]
The King was exceedingly restive under these historical parallels, and
became more and more anxious to speed the parting guest. Therefore,
at the end of April the Prince and Princess of Orange embarked at
Greenwich for Holland. The parting of the Princess with her family was
most affecting--except with her brother the Prince of Wales, who did
not trouble to take leave of her at all. Her mother and sisters wept
bitterly over her, the King “gave her a thousand kisses and a shower
of tears, but not one guinea”. Yet, such is human nature, after a few
weeks the Princess was as much forgotten at the English Court as though
she had never existed.
Another familiar figure disappeared from the Court a few months later
(in November, 1734), namely, Lady Suffolk, better known as Mrs. Howard.
She had often wished to resign her office, but her circumstances for
one reason did not admit of her doing so, and for another the Queen
always persuaded her to remain, lest a younger and less amenable lady
might take her place. The King, who had long since tired of her,
resented this action on the part of the Queen. “I do not know,” he
said, “why you will not let me part with a deaf old woman of whom I am
weary?” Mrs. Howard was weary too, and had come to loathe her bonds.
But what brought matters to a crisis cannot be certainly stated, it was
probably a combination of events.
The year before, shortly after he succeeded to the earldom, Lord
Suffolk died, and Lady Suffolk was left a widow, for which no doubt
she was devoutly thankful. She was now free to marry again; and if she
did not she possessed a moderate competency, which would enable her
to live in a position befitting her rank. Lady Suffolk was friendly
with many members of the Opposition, including Bolingbroke, who was of
all persons most disliked at court. It was said by her enemies that
she had a political intrigue with him, and had met him at Bath. Coxe
tells a story which seems to show that the Queen was at the bottom
of Lady Suffolk’s retirement. “Lord Chesterfield,” he says, “had
requested the Queen to speak to the King for some trifling favour; the
Queen promised, but forgot it. A few days afterwards, recollecting
her promise, she expressed regret at her forgetfulness, and added she
would certainly mention it that very day. Chesterfield replied that her
Majesty need not give herself that trouble, for Lady Suffolk had spoken
to the King. The Queen made no reply, but on seeing the King told him
she had long promised to mention a trifling request to his Majesty, but
it was now needless, because Lord Chesterfield had just informed her
that she had been anticipated by Lady Suffolk. The King, who always
preserved great decorum with the Queen, and was very unwilling to have
it supposed that the favourite interfered, was extremely displeased
both with Lord Chesterfield and his mistress. The consequence was that
in a short time Lady Suffolk went to Bath for her health, and returned
no more to Court.”
It is possible that some such incident occurred, but it could not have
been the immediate cause of Lady Suffolk’s retirement, as she held
office for more than a year after Lord Chesterfield was dismissed in
consequence of voting against the excise. It is true she went to Bath,
and probably met Bolingbroke there too, but it is unlikely that she had
a political intrigue with him. On her return to court, the King seems
first to have ignored her, and then to have insulted her publicly.
This was the last straw, and Mrs. Howard determined to resign at once.
The Duke of Newcastle wrote to Walpole: “You will see by the newspapers
that Lady Suffolk has left the Court. The particulars that I had from
the Queen are, that last week she acquainted the Queen with her design,
putting it upon the King’s unkind usage of her. The Queen ordered her
to stay a week, which she did, but last Monday had another audience,
complained again of her unkind treatment from the King, was very civil
to the Queen, and went that night to her brother’s house in St. James’s
Square.”[106]
The Duke of Newcastle’s statement is borne out by a curious manuscript,
entitled “Memorandum of the conversation between Queen Caroline and
Lady Suffolk, upon Lady Suffolk’s retiring from her Majesty’s service,
1734”.[107] This memorandum was probably jotted down by Lady Suffolk
soon after her interview with the Queen, and runs as follows:--
_Lady Suffolk_: “Madam, I believe your Majesty will think that I have
more assurance than ever anybody had to stay so long in your family,
after the public manner his Majesty has given me of his displeasure.
But I hope, when I tell you that it occasioned my not waiting sooner
upon your Majesty, you will not think it was owing to assurance. I
have always had, and I hope I have always shown, the greatest duty and
attention for everything that relates to your Majesty, and I could not
think it was proper, whilst you were so indisposed, to trouble you with
anything relating to me, but I come now, Madam, to beg your leave to
retire.”
_The Queen_: “You surprise me. What do you mean? I do not believe the
King is angry. When has he shown his displeasure? Did I receive you as
if you were under mine?”
_Lady Suffolk_: “No, madam. If your Majesty had treated me in the same
manner as his Majesty did, I never could have had the assurance to
appear again in your presence.”
_The Queen_: “Child, you dream. I saw the King speak to you; I remember
now.”
_Lady Suffolk_: “Yes, madam, and his words marked more strongly his
displeasure than his silence, before and since.”
_The Queen_: “Tell me, has the King really never been down with you
since your return?”
_Lady Suffolk_: “No, madam. Will your Majesty give me leave to tell
what has passed?...”[108]
_The Queen_: “Upon my word I did not know it.”
_Lady Suffolk_: “I hope you take nothing ill of me....”
_The Queen_: “Come, my dear Lady Suffolk, you are very warm, but
believe me I am your friend, your best friend. You do not know a court.
It is not proper of me to say this, but indeed you do not know a
court.”
_Lady Suffolk_: “I am very sensible that I do not, and feel I do not; I
have had a most convincing proof that I am ignorant. But I am afraid,
madam, if I have not got knowledge in twenty years I never shall now.”
_The Queen_: “Why don’t you talk to your friends? I always do so.
Indeed you cannot judge this for yourself.”
_Lady Suffolk_: “Madam, if twenty years’ service has not been able to
prevent me from falling a sacrifice to my enemies, would your Majesty
have me, by calling in my friends, make them answerable for the measure
I shall take, and involve them in my ruin?”
_The Queen_: “Child, your enemies want to get you out, and they will be
the first to drop you. Oh! my dear Lady Suffolk, you do not know, when
you are out, how different people will behave.”
_Lady Suffolk_: “Madam, the first part of what your Majesty says I am
very sure of, but really, madam, I do not understand the second part,
and if some people may show me it was the courtier and not me that
was liked, I cannot say that to keep such acquaintances will be any
argument to me to stay at Court. Madam, such are better lost than kept.”
_The Queen_: “You are very warm.”
_Lady Suffolk_: “Madam, I beg if, in talking to your Majesty, I say one
word that does not mark the respect both to his and your Majesties,
you will be pleased to tell me; for, madam, I come fully determined to
take my leave, with the same respect, submission and duty, as I have
behaved for twenty years. Your Majesty has often told me that I have
never failed in anything for your service in any of those places that
you have honoured me with. Madam, I do not know how far your Majesty
may think it respectful to make this declaration, but I beg that I
may for a moment speak of the King only as a man that was my friend.
He has been dearer to me than my own brother, so, madam, as a friend
I feel resentment at being ill-treated, and sorry to have lost his
friendship; but as my King and my master I have the greatest submission
to his pleasure, and wish I knew what I was accused of, for I know my
innocence. But, madam, I know it must be some horrid crime.”
_The Queen_: “Oh! fie! you commit a crime! Do not talk so.”
_Lady Suffolk_: “Madam, as I know his Majesty’s goodness, his justice,
his warmth of friendship, I know he could not for anything else punish
me so severely.”
_The Queen_: “I daresay that if you have a little patience the King
will treat you as he does the other ladies. I suppose that would
satisfy you.”
_Lady Suffolk_: “No, madam. Why, did you never see him show what you
call ‘respect’ to the Duchess of R---- and to Lady A----? Madam, I
believe and I hope they are ladies of more merit than I, and possibly
in every respect of greater consequence than I am; but in this case is
very different. They have not lived twenty years conversing every day
with his Majesty, nor had the same reason to think themselves honoured
with his friendship as I have had till now; nor has it been in his
power to give the public so remarkable an instance of his displeasure
of them. Consider, madam, I have been absent seven weeks, and returned
sooner than was proper for my health to do my duty in my place to your
Majesty, and to show my respect to his Majesty on his birthday.”
_The Queen_: “I heard that you were at the Bath, and that you did not
design to come back; but I did not mind such reports.”
_Lady Suffolk_: “I heard, too, madam, that I was _not_ to come back,
and that my business was done at Court. I knew, madam, that I had a
mistress who had often told me that she was perfectly satisfied with
my services. I felt I had a king, and master, and a friend, (whom I
could not, nor ever will, suspect of injustice) who would not punish me
without I was guilty, and I knew, madam, I had done nothing. But still
these reports must now make me think his Majesty’s public neglect could
not escape any bystanders, and I know it was remarked, for my brother
came on Thursday morning and asked if it were true that the King took
no notice of me since I came from the Bath.”
_The Queen_: “Well, child, you know that the King leaves it to me. I
will answer for it that all will be as well with you as with any of
the ladies, and I am sure you can’t leave my service then.”
_Lady Suffolk_: “Really, madam, I do not see how it is possible for me
to continue in it. I have lost what is dearer to me than anything in
the world. I am to be put upon the footing of the Duchess of R---- or
Lady A----, and so by the public thought to be forgiven of some very
grave offence because I have been your servant twenty years. No, madam,
I never will be forgiven an offence that I have not committed.”
_The Queen_: “You won’t be forgotten. This is indeed the G.L. (_sic_)
why I am forgiven.”
_Lady Suffolk_: “Madam, your Majesty and I cannot be named together. It
is a play of words for your Majesty, but it is a serious thing for me.”
_The Queen_: “Why, child, I am the King’s subject as well as you.”
_Lady Suffolk_: “Madam, what I mean is what I cannot make your
Majesty understand unless you are pleased to lay aside the Queen and
put yourself in my place for some moments. After twenty years to be
ill-treated without knowing your crime, and then stay upon the foot of
the Duchess of A----!”
_The Queen_: “Upon my word, Lady Suffolk, you do not consider what the
world will say. For God’s sake, consider your character. You leave me
because the King will not be more particular to you than to others.”
_Lady Suffolk_: “Madam, as for my character, the world must have
settled that long ago, whether just or unjust, but, madam, I think
I have never been thought to betray his Majesty, or to have done any
dishonest thing by any person whatever, and I defy my greatest enemies
(your Majesty owns I have such) to prove anything against me, and I
cannot and will not submit to anything that may make that believed of
me.”
_The Queen_: “Oh! fie! Lady Suffolk, upon my word that is a very fine
notion out of _Celia_, or some other romance.”
_Lady Suffolk_: “This may not be a very great principle, but I think it
is a just one, and a proper one for me to have.”
_The Queen_: “I will send you down one. Come, you love figures. Let me
persuade you two-thirds. Go down and think of this. There are people
who want to get you out of Court; they will be the first to drop you.”
_Lady Suffolk_: “Madam, I consult nobody in this; there is no occasion.”
_The Queen_: “You cannot judge for yourself. Let me prevail. Put
yourself in somebody’s hands and let them act for you. Indeed you are
so warm you are not fit to act for yourself.” (_Repeated the same as I
said before._) “Nor indeed very respectful. But you will repent it. I
cannot give you leave to go.”
_Lady Suffolk_: “If anybody could feel as I feel, and could be so
entirely innocent as to let me be the only sufferer for the advice they
give, I might follow the method your Majesty proposes, but as that is
impossible, I must beg leave to act for myself. I wish I might know
what I am accused of. In my absence I have been ruined in his Majesty’s
favour. At the Bath I have a thousand witnesses of my behaviour. I know
my own innocence. Nobody dare tell me that to my knowledge I have ever
failed in my duty in any manner.”
_The Queen_: “You are very G. L. (_sic_). Not dare to tell you you have
been guilty!”
_Lady Suffolk_: “No, madam, for the Princess and the duke could justify
my behaviour, Lord ---- and many more; what I meant was as regards to
myself. But I cannot think that any wretch is so abandoned to all shame
as to stand having the ---- (pardon the word) before such a number as
was there.”
_The Queen_: “Pray how did you live at the Bath?”
(_Here I told all. Who B. denied, and what happened to Lord B. No
parties distinguishable to me._)
_The Queen_: “Lady Suffolk, pray consider, be calm.”
_Lady Suffolk_: “Madam, I beg your Majesty will give me permission to
retire. Indeed I have not slept since I came back to your house, and
believe I never shall under this suspicion of guilt. Madam, will you
give me leave to speak?”
_The Queen_: “Do.”
_Lady Suffolk_: “I am here by your Majesty’s command. Your Majesty
should look upon me when I assert my innocence. Your Majesty knows
what I am accused of.”
_The Queen_: “Oh! oh! Lady Suffolk, you want to get it out of me.”
_Lady Suffolk_: “Madam, I do want to face the accusation; I am not
afraid; I know it would be to the confusion of my accusers.”
_The Queen_: “I will not give you leave to go, I tell you plainly. If
you go to-day you go without my consent.”
_Lady Suffolk_: “Madam, I beg you to think of my unhappy situation. I
own after what passed, that the next time I saw his Majesty, I should
have dropped down if I had not gone out.”
_The Queen_: “Well, Lady Suffolk, will you refuse me this? Stay a week
longer, won’t you; stay this week at my request.”
_Lady Suffolk_: “Yes, madam, I will obey you, but as I am under his
Majesty’s displeasure, your Majesty will not expect my attendance, or
that I come again to receive your commands.”
_The Queen_: “Yes, I do, and I will see you again, because you will
come again.”
_Lady Suffolk_: “I will obey your Majesty.”
_The Queen_: “Harkee, Lady Suffolk, you will come up as you used to do.”
Lady Suffolk stayed her week and then, despite the arguments of the
Queen, she resigned her appointment, and left the court for ever. She
was forty-eight years of age, and had fairly earned her retirement.
She was not of a nature to live long alone, and the following year
she married George Berkeley, fourth son of Charles, second Earl of
Berkeley, a man not distinguished for fortune or good looks, but who,
nevertheless, made her a very good husband. The King was in Hanover
when he heard of Lady Suffolk’s marriage, and had already given her a
successor. He received the news very philosophically, and wrote to the
Queen:--
“J’étois extrêmement surpris de la disposition que vous m’avez mandé
que ma vieille maîtresse a fait de son corps en mariage à ce vieux
goutteux George Berkeley, et je m’en réjouis fort. Je ne voudrois pas
faire de tels présens à mes amis; et quand mes ennemis me volent, plut
à Dieu que ce soit toujours de cette façon.”
The King probably called Berkeley his enemy because he was a member of
the Opposition. Berkeley died a few years after his marriage with Lady
Suffolk, but she survived him for more than twenty years. She lived, in
dignified retirement, at her villa at Marble Hill, and retained, until
the end of her life, the charm of manner and amiability, which had won
her many friends. Horace Walpole used to visit her in her old age, and
gleaned from her much material for his famous _Memoirs_. She died in
1767, in her eightieth year, having survived George the Second seven
years.
FOOTNOTES TO BOOK III, CHAPTER XI:
[104] _Daily Journal_, 8th November, 1733.
[105] The Prince of Orange was hereditary Stadtholder of Friesland, and
Stadtholder by election of Gröningen and Guelderland.
[106] The Duke of Newcastle to Sir Robert Walpole, 13th November, 1734.
[107] This manuscript is preserved in the manuscript department of the
British Museum.
[108] A gap here.