Farmer George Volume Ii Part 12

[228] _The Rolliad._

Though the new government was in a minority of about one hundred, Pitt, at the King's express desire, kept his place "in hopes that a sense of true patriotism would finally triumph over the factious spirit of party." After a time, however, it became obvious to George--it had all along been clear to every one else--that the wished-for consummation would not arrive, and when the hostile majority instead of decreasing, increased, Pitt, weary of the struggle, told the King, "Sir, I am mortified to see that my perseverance has been of no avail, and that I must resign at last." "If so," replied the King, "I must resign too."[229] This catastrophe was averted by the prorogation of the existing Parliament on March 24, and its dissolution on the following day.[230] The elections resulted in an overwhelming majority for Pitt, who held office without a break until March 14, 1801.

[229] Galt: _George III, his Court and Family_.

[230] On March 23, 1784, the Great Seal of England was stolen from the Lord Chancellor's house in Great Ormond Street. It was taken from a drawer of a writing table, in which nothing else was disturbed. Much discussion arose, consequently, and there was a suspicion that the theft might have been inspired by political reasons, since there was a doubt whether Parliament could be dissolved except under the Great Seal.

CHAPTER XXI

THE KING'S MALADY

Throughout his life George had persevered in a course of systematic abstinence and regular exercise, and he had endeavoured to strengthen an apparently sound and vigorous body by outdoor pursuits. He rose early both in winter and summer, never remained at any entertainment later than midnight, and usually went to bed before that hour. Corpulence was the bane of his family, and, perturbed at the thought that he might suffer from it, he discussed the question with his uncle, William of c.u.mberland, whose stoutness was notorious. "It is const.i.tutional," said the latter, "and I am much mistaken if your Majesty will not become as large as myself, before you attain to my age." "Perhaps," suggested George, "it arises from your not using sufficient exercise?" "I use, nevertheless, constant and severe exercise of every kind," his uncle a.s.sured him. "But there is another effort requisite, in order to repress this tendency, which is much more difficult to practise; and without which, no exercise, however violent, will suffice. I mean, great renunciation and temperance. Nothing else can prevent your Majesty from growing to my size."[231] Always inclined to moderation in food and drink, after this conversation the temperance of George's life became almost proverbial. "It is a fact," says Wraxall, "that during many years of his life, after coming up from Kew, or from Windsor, often on horseback, and sometimes in heavy rain, to the Queen's House; he has gone in a Chair to St. James's, dressed himself, held a _levee_, pa.s.sed through all the forms of that long and tedious ceremony, for such it was in the way that he performed it; without leaving any individual in the Circle unnoticed: and has afterwards a.s.sisted at a Privy Council, or given audience to his Cabinet Ministers and others, till five and even sometimes till six o'clock. After so much fatigue of body and of mind, the only refreshment or sustenance that he usually took consisted in a few slices of bread and b.u.t.ter and a dish of tea, which he sometimes swallowed as he walked up and down, previous to getting into his carriage, in order to return into the country."[232] It is probable, however, that his complaint was increased by his extreme abstemiousness, and his rigid morality, for, as Lord Carlisle has stated, "the family disorder introduced by his mother required high living and strong wines.

The French call it, '_les humeurs froids_.'"[233]

[231] Wraxall: _Historical Memoirs of His Own Times_.

[232] _Ibid._

When Mrs. Delany praised George III for his moderation, "No, no, it is no virtue," replied the monarch, "I only prefer eating plain and little, to growing diseased and infirm."--_Diary and Letters of Madame D'Arblay._

[233] _Reminiscences of the fifth Earl of Carlisle._

[Ill.u.s.tration: _From a caricature by Gear, 1788_

GEORGE III

_To face p. 202, Vol. II_]

Although wine was recommended to him to a.s.sist digestion, he declined to believe in its efficacy;[234] and it is amusing to read that he desired the members of his _suite_ to be as abstemious as himself. Miss Burney has narrated a story of that quaint wag, Colonel Goldsworthy, who, after his return from hunting with the King, damp, muddy, and tired, was called by the King. "'Sir,' said I, smiling agreeably, with the rheumatism just creeping all over! but still, expecting something a little comfortable, I wait patiently to know his gracious pleasure, and then, 'Here, Goldsworthy, I say,' he cries, 'will you have a little barley water?' Barley water in such a plight as that! Fine compensation for a wet jacket, truly!--barley water! I never heard of such a thing in my life! barley water after a day's hard hunting." "And did you drink it?" Miss Burney asked. "And did the King drink it himself?" "Yes, G.o.d bless his Majesty!" replied the equerry, "but I was too humble a subject to do the same as my King."[235]

[234] Papendiek: _Court and Private Life_.

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

Wraxall and many other contemporaries have stated that the King enjoyed almost perfect health until 1788, but this only shows with what success the truth was hidden, for, as we have seen, he was seriously ill in 1762, and in danger of losing his life and reason three years later; while in 1766 his health temporarily gave way under the mental excitement occasioned by affairs of state,[236] and, a little known chronicler states, in 1782 he was again "extremely indisposed".[237]

[236] _Grenville Papers._

[237] "On the day previous to the celebration of the Queen's birthday in 1782 [the Queen's birthday was officially recognized in the middle of January], the King was extremely indisposed, and was twice let blood. At the Drawing-room next day his Majesty was seized with a bleeding at the nose, and was obliged to retire very soon after three o'clock; and his Majesty continued so much indisposed that he did not appear in the ball-room in the evening. In a few days his Majesty was so much recovered as to be deemed entirely out of danger."--Southy: _Authentic Memoirs of George the Third_.

The mental derangement of 1788 is usually stated to have been first discerned in the autumn, but as a matter of fact the symptoms were obvious much earlier in the year, although it was then declared the King was suffering only from a bilious disorder. In the spring Sir George Baker attended him, and gave it as his opinion that the bile did not flow properly; but the patient declined to take medicine, and, as Mrs.

Papendiek states, "he was up and down in his condition--better or worse, but did not rally." At Easter, Dr. Heberden was called in, and, considering the case alarming, invited Dr. Munro to consult with him.

"The great desire," according to Mrs. Papendiek, "was to keep the circ.u.mstance secret as much as possible from the public, to hasten the session, and direct their hopes to the ease of summer business, to change of air, and other restorations. The King was aware of the probability of his malady, but was unconscious of its having already having made great strides. Dr. Munro retired and was not again called in."[238]

[238] _Court and Private Life._

"Having had rather a smart bilious attack, which, by the goodness of Divine Providence, is quite removed," the King wrote to the Bishop of Worcester on June 8, "Sir George Baker has strongly recommended me to the going for a month to Cheltenham, as he thinks the water efficacious on such occasions, and that an absence from London will keep me free from certain fatigues that attend long audiences."[239] The departure was postponed until July 12, when the King went with the Queen and the Princesses to Cheltenham, where he stayed at Bay's Hill Lodge, the seat of the Earl of Fauconberg. From there he made excursions to Tewkesbury, Gloucester, Worcester[240] and some other places; but neither the change nor the waters benefited him, and on August 16, the royal family returned to Windsor.

[239] Jesse: _Memoirs of George III_.

[240] It was not only at Windsor that George addressed him to the pa.s.sers-by. "This, I suppose, is Worcester New Bridge," he asked some one in the streets of Worcester. "Yes, please your Majesty." "Then,"

said the King, "let me have a huzza"; and taking off his hat, he set the example.--_Georgiana._

Miss Burney has told us how the King was very sensible of the great change there was in himself, and how he said to Lady Effingham, when she came to visit him, "You see me, all at once, an old man." Slowly but surely the disorder increased, and it became more and more obvious that his intellect was affected.[241] Then, on October 16, he went out in the dew, and instead of changing his damp shoes and stockings, he rode to town in them, and held a _levee_. It was clear that he had caught cold, and on his return to Kew the Queen begged him to take a cordial, but instead he ate a pear and drank a gla.s.s of cold water, after which he felt unwell, and went to bed earlier than usual. "About one in the morning," Sir Gilbert Elliot has recorded, "he was seized violently with a cramp or some other violent thing in the stomach which rendered him speechless, and was _all but_. The Queen ran out in great alarm in her s.h.i.+ft, or with very little clothes, among the pages, who, seeing her in that situation, were at first retiring out of respect, but the Queen stopped them, and sent them instantly for the apothecary at Richmond, during which time the King had continued in the fits and speechless. The apothecary tried to make him swallow something strong, but the King, who appeared not to have lost his senses, still liked a bit of his own way, and rejected by signs everything of that sort. They contrived, however, to cheat him, and got some cordial down in the shape of medicine, and the fit went off."

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

After this, George was never really well until the attack had run its course. He slept but little, talked unceasingly and only stopped when actually exhausted, and was very weak. "I cannot get on without it," he said, showing a walking stick, "my strength seems diminis.h.i.+ng hourly."

On October 22, Sir George Baker informed ministers that the King's condition was critical yet "to stop further lies and any fall of the stock,"[242] he held a _levee_ on the 24th, when, however, his disordered dress and vacant manner left no doubt as to the nature of his malady. On the following Sunday at church, in the middle of the sermon he started up and embraced the Queen and the Princesses in a frantic manner, exclaiming, "You know what it is to be nervous." A day or two later, after a private concert, he went up to Dr. Ayrton, and laying his hand on the musician's shoulder, "I fear, Sir," he said, "I shall not long be able to hear music: it seems to affect my head and it is with difficulty I bear it," and then added softly, "Alas! the best of us are but frail mortals."[243] About the same time, after a long ride, he burst into tears, and exclaimed, "I wish to G.o.d I may die, for I am going to be mad."

[242] Stanhope: _Life of Pitt_.

[243] _Relics of Royalty._

We are indebted to Philip Withers for our knowledge of the King's first attack. "My office places me at the fountain head of information," he has written. "As senior Page of the Presence my apartment is situated between the grand Anti-chamber and the Closet of Private Audience. In each room there is a door of communication with my apartment, and I am constantly prepared to execute commands. The doors of my apartment open near the fireplaces of the Closet and Anti-chamber; and as there is a current of air pa.s.sing through the doors (for they are opposite to each other) the Fireplaces are defended by lofty, magnificent screens so that either door may be left a little open without being noticed. In the common course of things I am accustomed to disregard both the company and conversation; and, indeed, it would be highly indecent."[244] That Withers was an unscrupulous fellow is obvious, for he was scoundrel enough to turn a dishonest penny by publis.h.i.+ng the secrets he acquired by eavesdropping; but, in spite of the way it was obtained, his testimony is valuable. He was, however, an ingenuous youth, and after stating in his narrative that there was abroad a suspicion that the disease was hereditary, he begs that people "will forbear to credit an opinion in which so many innocent and amiable children are interested."

"I do not deny the possible existence of hereditary disease," he continues. "In all ages of the world, and among every complexion of men, the opinion has been corroborated by fact. But what forbids our hoping better things in the case before us? Who will have the temerity to aver on oath that His Majesty's complaint is not the _Gout_, or some kindred disorder, unhappily driven to the seat of intelligence?" Withers has related how, about this time, the King and Queen, with himself in attendance, were driving one day through Windsor Park, when the King stopped the horses, and, crying, "There he is," alighted. His Majesty then approached an oak, and when within a few yards of it, uncovered and advanced, bowing with the utmost respect, and then, seizing one of the lower branches, shook it heartily, as one shakes the hand of a friend.

The Queen turned pale and after a terrified pause told Withers to dismount and tell the King that her Majesty desired his company. From the words that were uttered, the page learnt that George imagined he was discussing European politics with the King of Prussia!

[244] _History of the Royal Malady, with Variety of Entertaining Anecdotes, to which are added Strictures of the Declaration of Horne Tooke, Esq., respecting "Her Royal Highness the Princess of Wales,"

commonly called Mrs. Fitzherbert. With Interesting Remarks on a Regency.

By a Page of the Presence._ (1789.)

The narrative of the illness of George III is headed, presumedly to evade prosecution, "Curious and Entertaining Anecdotes of Henry IV, King of France."

After this distressing episode, there ensued a period of fluctuation, when occasional paroxysms were succeeded by intervals of clear understanding, during which everybody at Windsor went about in fear and trembling, not knowing what would happen next. The Queen was almost overpowered with terror. "I am affected beyond all expression in her presence to see what struggles she makes to support her serenity," Miss Burney wrote on November 3. "To-day she gave up the conflict when I was alone with her, and burst into a violent fit of tears. It was very, very terrible to see."[245] At this critical moment Sir George Baker was far from well, and, feeling unable to undertake the entire charge of the royal invalid, and perhaps disinclined to take upon himself the entire responsibility, called in Dr. Warren, whom, however, the King declined to receive. "Dr. Warren was then placed where he could hear his voice, and all that pa.s.sed, and receive intelligence concerning his pulse, etc., from Sir George Baker."[246]

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

[246] _Ibid._

Dr. Warren came to the conclusion that the disorder under which the King laboured was an absolute mania, and wholly unconnected with fever, which statement of the case he had later to announce to the sufferer. On November 5, the King broke out in violent delirium at dinner, flew at the Prince of Wales, clutched him by the throat, and threw him against a wall, crying, he would know how to dare keep the King of England from speaking his mind. That night George was hopelessly mad; his physical as well as his mental health was impaired, and his life despaired of. "The doctors say it is impossible to survive it long, if his situation does not take some extraordinary change in a few hours," Sheridan was informed. "Since this letter was begun, all articulation even seems to be at an end with the poor King; but, for the two hours preceding, he was in a most determined frenzy."[247] After a time he slept, and when he awoke the fever had somewhat abated, but he had still all the gestures and ravings of the most confirmed maniac, and a new noise in imitation of the howling of a dog. Then he became calmer and talked of religion, and declared himself inspired, but soon relapsed into a turbulent and incoherent state, and tried to jump out of a window.[248]

On November 9 a rumour ran through the city that the King was dead, but on the 12th orders were sent to the office of the Secretary of State that it should be notified to foreign courts that no apprehensions were entertained of immediate danger of the King's life. On November 16 a public prayer was offered in all churches for his recovery.

[247] Moore: _Life of Sheridan_.

[248] Dr. Ray: _The Insanity of King George III_.

The physicians in attendance had been divided upon the question of the possibility of the King's physical recovery, but they were in agreement as to the unlikelihood of his regaining his reason. The first ray of hope came on November 19 from Sir Lucas Pepys, who declared that there was "nothing desponding in the case," but advised stronger measures, the denial of dangerous indulgences, and greater quiet. In spite of this p.r.o.nouncement, on the following day Dr. Warren had the unpleasant task to inform the King he was regarded as incapable of transacting business of any kind. "To-day, I have heard, is fixed upon to speak reason to One who has none," George Selwyn wrote to Lady Carlisle on November 20. "Dr.

Warren, in some set of fine phrases, is to tell his Majesty that he is stark mad, and must have a straight waistcoat. I am glad I am not chosen to be that Rat who is to put the bell about the Cat's neck. For if it should please G.o.d to forgive our transgressions, and restore his Majesty to his senses, for he can never have them again till we grow better, I suppose, according to the opinion of churchmen, who are perfectly acquainted with all the dispensations of Providence, and the motive of His conduct; I say, if that unexpected period arrives, I should not like to stand in the place of that man who has moved such an Address to the Crown."[249]

[249] _George Selwyn: His Life and Letters._

The favourable opinion of Sir Lucas Pepys was confirmed by Dr.

Addington, who, called in on November 26, was the only physician of all those consulted who had experience of mental cases, and even he was not professedly a pract.i.tioner in them. For some reason Dr. Addington discontinued his attendance after a few days, and then at last it was deemed imperative to add to the medical staff some one skilled in the treatment of insanity. Why this had not been done before is inexplicable except on the hypothesis that secrecy was essential in the public interest;[250] but now a summons was sent to the Rev. Dr. Francis Willis.