Farmer George Volume I Part 14

CHAPTER X

THE PRIVATE LIFE OF THE KING AND QUEEN

Shortly after his marriage the King sought a residence where he and his consort should live more free from the ceremony and restraint of court life than was possible at St. James's. Kensington Palace he thought too near the metropolis, and he disliked the "stately, unvaried flatness" of Hampton Court. He did, indeed, invite "Capability" Brown to reorganise the artificial grounds of the latter palace, but that despotic gardener declined, "out of respect for himself and his profession," to do anything more than advise that the trees should be allowed to grow in their natural way.[220] George determined to purchase a mansion and with the Queen inspected Wanstead House, which delighted him. "It is well, Charlotte, you did not stop here on your way to the palace," he said, "for that would have been thought a mean residence after seeing this elegant mansion." However, the many charms of the Ess.e.x house were found to be more than counterbalanced by the distance from town and the necessity to pa.s.s through the City to reach it; and eventually the King purchased Buckingham House from Sir John Sheffield for 21,000, and subsequently contrived to persuade Parliament to settle this on the Queen in exchange for Somerset House.[221]

[220] Launcelot Brown (1715-1783), the reviver of the natural style of landscape-gardening, earned his nickname by the frequent use of the words, "This spot has great capabilities." He was very independent, and would never accept a commission unless it was likely to reflect credit on him. "My lord, there is nothing to be done here," he said to a sad possessor of dreary grounds, "unless you plant one-half of your estate and lay the other half under water." Brown was high in the confidence of the King, who sometimes employed him on confidential political errands; yet an amusing story is told that as soon as George heard of his death he went over to Richmond Gardens and, in a tone of great relief, said to the under-gardener, "Brown is dead. _Now_, Millicant, you and I can do what we please."

[221] "His Majesty, desirous that better and more suitable accommodation should be made for the residence of the Queen, in case she should survive him, and being willing that the palace in which his Majesty now resides, called the Queen's House, may be settled for that purpose, recommends (to both Houses of Parliament) to take the same into consideration, and to make provision for settling the said palace upon her Majesty, and for appropriating Somerset House to such uses as shall be found most beneficial to the public."--_The King's Message to Parliament, April 12, 1775._

[Ill.u.s.tration: _From an engraving by W. Knight after a drawing by E.

Dayes_

BUCKINGHAM HOUSE]

Preparations were made at once to equip the building for its royal occupiers, and Walpole in 1762 noted that, "The King and Queen are stripping the other palaces to furnish it. In short, they have already fetched pictures from Hampton Court, which indicates their never living there; consequently Strawberry Hill will remain in possession of its own tranquillity, and not become a cheese-cake house to the palace. All I ask of princes is not to live within five miles of me." In June, 1762, the sovereigns took up their residence at the "Queen's House," as it was called henceforth, and on the 6th inst. gave a house warming, "for which a most elegant entertainment was planned--a concert, a ball, the gardens to be illuminated, suppers, bands of music, the whole of a magnificent description, under the direction, princ.i.p.ally, of Mr. Kuffe, a German, and general invitations to the n.o.bility were to be issued."[222] There, when in London, the King and Queen lived in the strictest privacy, and never went to St. James's but to hold _levees_ and drawing-rooms.

[222] Papendiek: _Journals_.

The King's love of rural scenery made him spend as much time as possible in the country, and he migrated to Richmond Lodge regularly in the middle of May, returning for the week in which his birthday fell. There he made many improvements, and when the Lodge was found too small to accommodate the increasing family, he discussed plans for a new palace, to be erected close by, with Sir William Chambers.

"Sir William, cover'd with Chinese renown, Whose Houses are no sooner _up_ than _down_, Don't heed the discontented Nation's cry: _Thine_ are _religious_ Houses, very _humble_ Upon their _faces_ inclin'd to tumble; So _meek_ they cannot keep their head on _high_."[223]

[223] _Ode written after the great Crashes and Falls at Somerset House._

A model of the proposed design was made and operations begun, only to be suspended, while the ground floor was yet in course of erection, by the refusal of the authorities of the town to sell a small piece of ground essential to the scheme. Thereupon the King determined to remove to Kew, where he had spent large sums on the improvement of the gardens under the direction of Sir William Chambers, who had erected all sorts of buildings, Roman, Greek, Moresque, and Chinese.

"Be these the rural pastimes that attend Great Brunswick's leisure: these shall best unbend His royal mind, whene'er from state withdrawn, He treads the velvet of his Richmond lawn; These shall prolong his Asiatic dream, Tho' Europe's balance trembles on its beam."[224]

[224] _An Heroic Epistle to Sir William Chambers._

Subsequently when alterations on an extensive scale were made at Windsor Castle,[225] the people of Richmond, realizing they were in danger of losing their royal residents altogether, offered the land they had before refused; but it was too late, and the enclosure round the abandoned palace was given over to farming.

[225] "George III restored the battlements and the windows of a considerable part to their appropriate forms, built a new porch, and constructed a Gothic staircase of great beauty and magnificence. He dismantled the old painted St. George's Hall, and intended to subst.i.tute for it a Gothic hall worthy of the proudest periods of the Plantagenets and Tudor. But the progress of improvement flagged, and his lamented illness stopped it. Before this his Majesty had been very attentive to the beautiful restorations in St. George's Chapel; his last work at Windsor was the formation of the Royal Mausoleum, which ultimately received his mortal remains."--Huish: _Public and Private Life of George III_.

"Soon after [the marriage] Buckingham House was purchased, and bestowed on her Majesty, St. James's not seeming a prison strict enough," Horace Walpole has written; and in this sentence may be read the key to the first years of Queen Charlotte in England, for during that period she was, indeed, little better than a prisoner, with a gaoler in the form of her duenna (who was also supposed to be a spy of the Princess Dowager) Katherine Dashwood,[226] the "Delia" of James Hammond, who had not been to Court for twenty-five years, when she was a Woman of the Bedchamber to George II's consort. "Except the Ladies of the Bedchamber[227] for half-an-hour a week in a funereal circle, or a ceremonious drawing-room, she [the Queen] never had a soul to speak to but the King," Mrs.

Harcourt has recorded in her Diary. "This continued till her first child, the Prince of Wales, was born; then the nurse and governess, Lady Charlotte Finch, coming into the room was a little treat; but they had still for years no other society, till by degrees the Ladies of the Bedchamber came far more frequently, and latterly the society, for various reasons--the children growing up, the journeys, etc.--was much increased. Expecting to be Queen of a gay Court, finding herself confined in a convent, and hardly allowed to think without the leave of her husband, checked her spirits, made her fearful and cautious to an extreme, and when the time came that amus.e.m.e.nts were allowed, her mind was formed to a different manner of life." Seclusion in a dreary Court at the age of seventeen was not the way to bring out that which is best in a woman's character, and doubtless this had its effect in producing a certain bitterness and hardness that subsequently showed themselves, although some fifty years later the Queen expressed her belief that the course followed had been advisable. "I am most truly sensible of the dear King's great strictness, at my arrival in England, to prevent my making many acquaintances; for he was always used to say that, in this country, it was difficult to know how to draw a line on account of the politics of the country and that there never could be kept up a society without party, which was always dangerous for any woman to take part in, but particularly so for the royal family; and with truth do I a.s.sure you that I am not only sensible that he was right, but I feel thankful for it from the bottom of my heart."

[226] "It is comical to see Kitty Dashwood, the famous old beauty of the Oxfords.h.i.+re Jacobites, living in the Palace as duenna to the Queen. She and Miss Broughton, Lord Lyttelton's ancient Delia, are revived again in a young court that never heard of them."--Walpole.

[227] The princ.i.p.al members of the Queen's Household were: Chamberlain, Duke of Manchester; Vice-Chamberlain, Lord Cantalupe; Mistress of the Robes, d.u.c.h.ess of Ancaster; Ladies of the Bedchamber, d.u.c.h.ess of Hamilton, Countess of Effingham, Countess of Northumberland, Countess of Egremont, Viscountess Weymouth, Viscountess Bolingbroke; Treasurer, Andrew Stone; and Master of the Horse, Earl Harcourt.

Charlotte had hoped to bring with her some of her countrywomen, but she was allowed only to carry with her two dressers, Mrs. Haggerdorn and Mademoiselle Schwellenberg, the latter a shrewd ambitious woman who, not content to play the subordinate part imposed upon her by her office, set herself up as a mentor to the Queen, and no one was to be admitted to her Majesty's presence without having first been introduced to "Mademoiselle."[228] It would doubtless have been a surprise to "Mademoiselle" to learn that she was to achieve immortality, and her astonishment would scarcely have been pleasurable could she have read the pa.s.sages in Miss Burney's Diary that have procured her that distinction. It would, however, probably have surprised her still more to know that, within a century, for one reader of the annals of the reign of George III there would be scores who eagerly turned over the pages of the journal of the little lady she treated so cavalierly. "I found [silence] equally necessary to keep off the foul fiends of Jealousy and Rivalry of my colleague," wrote Miss Burney,[229] "who, apparently, never wishes to hear my voice but when we are _tete-a-tete_ and then never in good humour when it is at rest."

[228] _Diary and Letters of Madame D'Arblay._

[229] _Ibid._

In vain an adulatory biographer of Queen Charlotte[230] has drawn a pleasant portrait of Mademoiselle Schwellenberg, in vain he states she was "a well-educated and highly accomplished woman, extremely courteous in her manner, much respected by all the domestics of the royal household, and devotedly attached to the ill.u.s.trious family with whom she lived, who, in their turn, entertained for her the sincerest affection. Mademoiselle Schwellenberg had been, however, most cruelly and wantonly held up to public ridicule by a profligate wit, whose delight lay in ribaldry, as a woman of sordid disposition, than which nothing could be more opposite to her real character, for she was ever ready to oblige all who applied to her for a.s.sistance; and though, like her royal mistress, she chose to do good by stealth, her charities were very extensive." She lives for all time as Miss Burney's harsh, unsympathetic taskmaster, a stern unbending woman whose overpowering ways eventually caused the King to desire her dismissal, a fate from which she was saved only by the request of the Queen, who was very attached to her,[231] and upon her subscribing to his Majesty's conditions, that she should not resent his commands, nor influence the Queen's mind upon any subject, that she should share the labours with her companion, and infringe upon no regulation unconnected with her immediate appointment.

[230] John Watkins.

[231]

"This Nymph a Mantua-maker was, I ween, And prized for cheapness by our saving Queen, Who (where's the mighty harm of loving money?) Brought her to this fair land of Milk and Honey; And placed her in a most important sphere, Inspectress General of the Royal Gear."

_The Lousiad._

These instructions the dresser accepted, and, as was only to be expected in a woman of her character, soon ignored, thereby earning the dislike of Mrs. Papendiek, of Frederick Albert, of f.a.n.n.y Burney, and, of course, of "Peter Pindar," who salvoed a farewell verse when she left the country on a visit to Germany in 1789.

"With great _respect_ I here a.s.sure you, Ma'am, Your name our common people loudly d.a.m.n; _Genteeler_ folk attack with _silent_ curses."

Still, the Schwellenberg's devotion to her mistress was undeniable, and her reverence for Majesty so intense that she could not even faintly understand why, when she announced, "Miss Bernar, the Queen will give you a gown," that lady was not overcome with grat.i.tude for the high honour. Perhaps Miss Burney depicted her with a pen dipped too deeply in gall, and certainly she let her anger get the better of her humour, though no excuse for this need be sought, since a.s.sociation with the illiterate old scold day and night for years might well have embittered a more chastened person than the auth.o.r.ess of "Cecilia"; but why she should have borne with the woman's tyranny and capriciousness, and not in return, at least, have chaffed her, as did Colonel Manners and Colonel Grenville, is past understanding.

Why the King and Queen invited Miss Burney to accept the part of dresser on the resignation of Mrs. Haggerdorn in 1786 is a problem only to be solved by the acceptance of Macaulay's belief that it was thought to be an act of kindness. "But their kindness was the kindness of persons raised high above the ma.s.s of mankind, accustomed to be addressed with profound deference, accustomed to see all who approached them mortified by their coldness and elated by their smiles. They fancied that to be noticed by them, to serve them, was in itself a kind of happiness; and that Frances Burney ought to be full of grat.i.tude for being permitted to purchase, by the surrender of health, wealth, freedom, domestic affections and literary fame, the privilege of standing behind a royal chair and holding a pair of royal gloves."[232]

[232] _Essay on Madame D'Arblay._

It would be as easy as it would be unprofitable to moralize upon the vanity of princes: it is more interesting to inquire why Miss Burney accepted a menial position at Court. She has told us of her consternation when Mr. Smelt brought the unwelcome offer and informed her, "Her Majesty proposed giving me apartments in the palace; making me belong to the table of Mrs. Schwellenberg with whom all her own visitors--bishops, lords, or commons--always dine; keeping me a footman, and settling on me 200 a year." Miss Burney's first impulse was to refuse, but Mr. Smelt's astonishment that she should hesitate, the surprise of Mrs. Delany at her reluctance, and the persuasion of her father undermined her decision, and, swayed perhaps by the fascination that great personages had for her, she accepted the offer, and on July 11 attended the Court in an official capacity. Much pity has been expended upon the famous novelist, and Macaulay has made an attack on Dr. Burney for his share in inducing her to accept; which attack is, perhaps, more brilliant than fair, for Miss Burney was more than thirty years of age, had innumerable unprejudiced friends eager to advise, and was not constrained to accept by poverty, from the grinding pressure of which her pen at this time could save her. Her awe of royalty doubtless had something to do with her going to Court, and it says much for the respect in which the Court was held that she who was well acquainted with many of the most notable persons in England, should lose her self-possession when the King addressed her. "I believe there is no constraint to be put upon real genius; nothing but inclination can set it to work," George said once in her presence, "Miss Burney, however, knows best." Then, hastily returning to her, he cried, "What? what?"

"'No, Sir, I--I--believe not certainly,' quoth I, very awkwardly, for I knew not how to put him off as I would another person."[233]

[233] _Diary and Letters of Madame D'Arblay._

Miss Burney does not seem to have been unhappy at first, although, of course, the uncongenial surroundings and employment soon wearied her.

Indeed, she found much amus.e.m.e.nt in the etiquette of the Court, which alone disqualified her for the post, for the woman who was tickled by the quaintness of her walk backwards in the presence of royalty instead of treating it as a serious matter should have had no place in a royal retinue. Her humour was sufficiently robust in the early days of her employment to draw up for her mother's edification a quaint list of "directions for coughing, sneezing, or moving before the King or Queen."

"In the first place you must not cough. If you find a tickling in your throat, you must arrest it from making any sound; if you find yourself choking with the forbearance, you must choke--but not cough. In the second place, you must not sneeze. If you have a vehement cold, you must take no notice of it; if your nose-membranes feel a great irritation, you must hold your breath; if a sneeze still insists upon making its way you must oppose it by keeping your teeth grinding together; if the violence of the repulse breaks some blood-vessel, you must break the blood-vessel, but not sneeze. In the third place, you must not, upon any account, stir either hand or foot. If, by chance, a black pin runs into your head, you must not take it out. If the pain is very great, you must be sure to bear it without wincing; if it brings the tears into your eyes, you must not wipe them off; if they give you a tingling by running down your cheeks, you must look as if nothing was the matter. If your blood should gush from your head by means of the black pin, you must let it gush; if you are uneasy to think of making such a blurred appearance, you must be uneasy, but you must say nothing about it. If, however, the agony is very great, you may, privately, bite the inside of your cheek, or of your lips, for a little relief; taking care, meanwhile, to do it as cautiously as to make no apparent dent outwardly. And with that precaution, if you even gnaw a piece out, it will not be minded, only be sure either to swallow it, or commit it to a corner of the inside of your mouth till they are gone--for you must not spit."[234]

[234] _Diary and Letters of Madame D'Arblay, December 17, 1786._

The irritating complacency of royalty for not blaming her when, for instance, she had been out of doors when wanted within, after a time seemed to Miss Burney but natural; and it is doubtful if she could summon up a smile even for the delightful equerry, Colonel Manners, who once announced, "I think it right to be civil to the King." The iron slowly entered into her soul, and she became as imbued with flunkeyism as the meanest scullion in the royal kitchen. Let those who doubt read her remarks on the trial of Warren Hastings.

The private life of the sovereigns was almost inconceivably dull, and the tedium of the monotonous existence not unnaturally affected them adversely: Charlotte was far from happy, and a marked change came over George. "His [the King's] formerly excellent spirits had evidently forsaken him. Instead of that easy, good-natured, ingratiating familiarity, which had hitherto distinguished him in his intercourse with others, his manner had become distant and cold, and his countenance expressive of melancholy. It was evident to all who approached him that his mind was ill at ease."[235] George endeavoured to find amus.e.m.e.nt in poking about Windsor, asking questions of all he met in his rambles.

"Well, lad, what do you want?" he asked a stable-boy. "What do they pay you?" "I help on the stables," the youngster grumbled, "but I have nothing but victuals and clothes." "Be content," said the monarch, philosophically, "I have no more." Sometimes his inquisitiveness enabled him to redress a grievance, and then he was happy for, according to his lights, he was a just man. Soon after his accession several of the lower servants were dismissed without his knowledge, and one day, entering a cottage near the Castle he saw an old woman engaged in housework, who, a.s.suming that the visitor was one of the royal housemaids, whom she expected, complained, "I have seen better days in the old King's time, but the young King has turned everything topsy-turvy," adding, "I suppose you'll be turned out, too." It is pleasant to learn she was re-instated.

[235] Jesse: _Memoirs of George III_.

George, indeed, took an active interest in the domestic economy of the palaces, and little that was trivial failed to attract his attention.

The system of vails-giving had become a serious tax on the pocket of visitors. It has been told how Sir Timothy Waldo dined with the Duke of Newcastle, and on his departure found the servants lined up awaiting tribute. He paid right and left, and when he came to the cook, put a crown in his hand. "Sir, I don't take _silver_," said the man, returning the coin. "Don't you, indeed?" said the baronet courteously, as he replaced it in his pocket. "Well, I don't give _gold_!" Indeed, the abuse had come to such a pa.s.s that many a man could not afford to dine with a friend. Jonas Hanway has amusingly narrated one of his after-dinner experiences, "Sir, your great-coat," said one, upon which he paid a s.h.i.+lling. "Your hat," said another--a s.h.i.+lling--"Your stick"--a s.h.i.+lling--"Sir, your gloves." "Why, friend, you may keep the gloves," said Hanway, "they are not worth a s.h.i.+lling." After this Hanway wrote his "Eight Letters to the Duke of Newcastle on the custom of Vails-giving in England," which pamphlet was shown by the Duke to the King, who at once summoned the servants of his household, and addressed them: "You come into my service at a stipulated salary; that salary is regularly paid to you; your services are paid by me, nor will I henceforth be subject to the meanness of having my servants paid by the contribution of others. I will not have a single vail taken in my household, and the first who is guilty of the offence shall that instant receive his dismissal. This order applies to you all; therefore as far as my example can extend, the practice of vails-giving shall be abolished."[236] The immediate sequel to this address was an a.s.sembly of the royal servants at Drury Lane Theatre on the occasion of the King's visit on March 7, 1761, when the monarch was received with shouts of execration.

[236] Huish: _Public and Private Life of George the Third_.

A quaint light on the internal economy of the palace is thrown by a letter from the Queen to Lord Harcourt in 1803, that shows that the parody, "The King commands the first Lord-in-waiting to desire the second Lord to intimate to the gentleman Usher to request the page of the Antechamber to entreat the Groom of the Stairs to implore John to ask the Captain of the b.u.t.tons to desire the maid of the Still Room to beg the Housekeeper to give out a few more lumps of sugar, as His Majesty has none for his coffee, which is probably getting cold during the negotiations," had a sound basis of fact. "My Lord, I want you to exert your authority in dismissing my footman, Oby, the service as soon as possible, as his unquenchable thirst is now becoming so overpowering, that neither our absence nor our presence can subdue it any more," the Queen wrote. "Some messages of consequence being sent by him to the apothecary's, was found in his pockets when laying dead drunk in the street a few days ago, luckily enough by the Duke of c.u.mberland, who knowing they were for the family, sent them to Brand; I do not want him to starve, but I will not have him do any more duty. This I hope will be an example to the others; but as I write a Tipling-letter, I think it not amiss to mention that Stephenson has appeared twice a little _Bouzy_, the consequence of which was a fall from his horse yesterday, by which he was very much bruised; and the surgeon who came to bleed him at the Duke of Cambridge's House, who very humanely took him in, declared him to have been at least over dry, if not drunk. A reprimand to him will be necessary; for should it happen again he must go."

[Ill.u.s.tration: _From a caricature published in 1786_