Farmer George Volume Ii Part 17

When Sir Henry returned to the a.s.sembled physicians he wrote down the substance of this conversation, and without communicating it to anybody, requested those present to seal the paper and keep it in a chest where their notes and other papers of importance are kept, under locks of which each had a separate key. When the Monday in Pa.s.sion Week arrived, and Sir Henry had nearly forgotten the conversation, he went into the King's dressing-room while he was at his toilet, and found the attendants in amazement at his having called for and put on black stockings, black waistcoat and breeches, and a grey coat with black b.u.t.tons. It was curious to hear that his delusions a.s.sumed, like those of other madmen, the character of pride, and that a Sovereign ever fancied himself in a station more elevated than his own. He would sometimes fancy himself possessed of a supernatural power, and when angry with any of his keepers, stamp his foot and say he would send them down into h.e.l.l."[327]

[327] F. W. Wynn: _Diaries of a Lady of Quality_.

It was during the lucid interval to which reference has just been made that Sir Henry Halford was deputed to broach an awkward subject to the King. George had known of the death of Princess Amelia, and every day his attendants dreaded lest he should ask questions as to her property and her will. There had been a close intimacy between the Princess and General Fitzroy--there was the rumour of a secret marriage--and the trouble was that she had left everything to him. The Queen was afraid to mention this to the King, and Perceval and the Lord Chancellor successively undertook the disclosure and shrunk from it, imposing it upon Sir Henry. "Never," said the latter subsequently, "could I forget the feelings with which, having requested some private conversation with the King, after the other physicians were gone, I was called into a window with the light falling so full on my countenance that even the poor nearly blind King could see it. I asked whether it would be agreeable to him to hear now how Princess Amelia had disposed of her little property. "Certainly, certainly, I want to know," with great eagerness. I reminded him at the beginning of his illness he had appointed Fitzroy to ride with her at Weymouth; how it was natural and proper she should leave him some token for these services; that, excepting jewels, she had nothing to leave, and had bequeathed them all to him; that the Prince of Wales, thinking jewels a very inappropriate bequest for a man, had given Fitzroy a pecuniary compensation for them (his family, by the bye, always said it was very inadequate) and had distributed slight tokens to all the attendants and friends of the Princess, giving the bulk of the jewels to Princess Mary, her most constant and kindest of nurses. Upon this the poor King exclaimed, "Quite right, just like the Prince of Wales," and no more was said."[328]

[328] F. W. Wynn: _Diaries of a Lady of Quality_.

It was in the summer of 1814 that the Queen entered the King's apartment during one of these lucid intervals, and found him singing a hymn and accompanying himself on the harpsichord. When he had concluded, he knelt down and prayed aloud for his consort, for his family, for the nation, and, lastly, for himself, that it might please G.o.d to avert his heavy calamity, or, if not, give him resignation under it. Then his emotions overpowered him, he burst into tears, and his reason fled. He was never again sane.[329]

[329] _Georgiana._

"The public bulletins which have been issued for some months past, have all stated that his Majesty's disorder remains undiminished; and we understand that it is the opinion of the medical gentlemen attending him that nothing far short of a miracle can bring about a recovery from his afflicting malady, "so runs a contemporary account. "At times, we are happy to learn, he is tolerably composed. The number of persons specially appointed by the doctors is reduced from six to two, and his princ.i.p.al pages are admitted, and have been for some time, to attend upon him, as when he enjoyed good health. His Majesty dines at half past one o'clock, and, in general, orders his dinners: he invariably has roast beef upon the tables on Sundays. He dresses for dinner, wears his orders, etc.

"He occupies a suite of thirteen rooms (at least, he and his attendants) which are situated on the North side of Windsor Castle, under the State rooms. Five of the thirteen rooms are wholly devoted to the personal use of the King. Dr. John Willis sleeps in the sixth room, adjoining, to be in readiness to attend his Majesty. Dr. John attends the Queen every morning after breakfast, and about half-past ten o'clock, and reports to her the state of the afflicted monarch; the Doctor, afterwards, proceeds to the Princesses, and other branches of the Royal family, who may happen to be at Windsor, and makes a similar report to them. In general the Queen returns with Dr. Willis, through the state rooms, down a private staircase, leading into the King's suite of rooms, appropriated to this special purpose. Sometimes she converses with her Royal husband.

The Queen is the only person who is admitted to this peculiar privilege, except the medical gentleman, and his Majesty's personal attendants. In the case of Dr. John Willis's absence, Dr. Robert Willis, his brother, takes his place. The other medical gentlemen take it in rotation to be in close attendance upon the King.

"The suite of rooms which his Majesty and his attendants occupy, have the advantage of very pure and excellent air, being on the North side of the terrace round the Castle; and he used to occasionally walk on the terrace; but, we understand, he now declines, owing to the bad state of his eyes, not being able to enjoy the view. The Lords and Grooms of the King's Bedchamber, his Equerries and other attendants are occasionally in attendance at Windsor Castle, the same as if the King enjoyed good health. Two King's Messengers go from the Secretary of State's offices daily to Windsor, and return to London, as they have been accustomed to do for a number of years past. The messenger who arrives at noon brings a daily account of the King's health to the Prince Regent, and the Members of the Queen's Council. His Majesty has never been left since his afflicting malady, without one of the Royal Family being in the Castle, and a member of the Queen's council, appointed under the Regency Act."[330]

[330] _The Gentleman's Magazine_, January 5, 1816.

During his last years George III was subject to harmless and not unpleasing delusions. "The good King's mania consists in pleasant errors of the mind,"[331] said Lady Jerningham; and this statement was confirmed by Princess Elizabeth: "If anything can make us more easy under the calamity which it has pleased G.o.d to inflict on us, it is the apparent happiness that my revered father seems to feel."[332] He found much comfort in religion, and on one occasion declared, "Although I am deprived of my sight, and am shut out from the society of my beloved family, yet I can approach my Blessed Lord," and thereupon administered to himself the Sacrament.[333] Indeed, he was unhappy only when he could not have his favourite dinner of cold mutton and salad, plover's eggs, stewed peas, and cherry tart; and fearful--he who in his senses had never known fear--only when it was proposed to shave his beard. "If it must be," he said, "I will have the battle axes called in."[334]

[331] _Jerningham Letters, February 14, 1817._

[332] Galt: _George III, His Court and Family_.

[333] _Georgiana._

[334] _Lord Carlisle's Reminiscences._

[Ill.u.s.tration: GEORGE III IN HIS STUDY

_To face p. 287, Vol. II_]

The King loved to wander through the corridors, a venerable figure with long silvery beard, attired in a silk morning gown and ermine night cap, holding imaginary conversations with ministers long since dead, "rationally as to the discourse, but the persons supposed present"; and so pleasantly did he while away the time that sometimes his dinner was ready before he expected it. "Can it be so late?" he would ask. "_Quand on s'amuse le temps vole._"[335] He was fully convinced that Princess Amelia--"my poor Am"--was alive and happy at Hanover, enjoying perennial youth and beauty; and believed that he was prosecuting an amorous intrigue with Lady Pembroke, whom he often believed to be his wife, and whose absence angered him. "Is it not a strange thing, Adolphus," he said to the Duke of Cambridge, "that they still refuse to let me go to Lady Pembroke, although every one knows I am married to her; but what is worse, that infamous scoundrel Halford was at the marriage, and has now the effrontery to deny it to my face."[336] He considers himself no longer an inhabitant of this world, and often, when he had played one of his favourite tunes, observes that he was very fond of it when he was in the world. He speaks of the Queen and all his family, and hopes they are doing well now, for he loved them very much when he was with them,"

Princess Elizabeth remarks, and the belief that he was dead was one of his regular delusions. "I must have a new suit of clothes, he said one day, "and I will have them black in memory of George the Third, for he was a good man."[337]

[335] _Ibid._

[336] _Buckingham Memoirs._

[337] _Relics of Royalty._

The King lived on, recognizing no one, and knowing nothing of contemporary events. Waterloo was fought and won, and Napoleon overthrown; Princess Charlotte of Wales married and died, his consort went down to her grave, and his sons and daughters contracted matrimonial alliances, yet he lived on. Indeed, his const.i.tution was so sound that, in spite of all infirmities, his physical health continued good. "In 1818, however, he had ceased even to walk, being conveyed in his chair from his bed to another room, and placed near an old harpsichord of Queen Anne's, said not to have been tuned since her time.

On this he would play for hours, in the belief that he was making music."[338]

[338] _Lord Carlisle's Reminiscences._

[Ill.u.s.tration: _From a portrait by H. Eldridge_

QUEEN CHARLOTTE

_To face p. 289, Vol. II_]

Queen Charlotte had been ailing for a long time. "The severe affliction and constant anxiety she was in was probably the cause, and from this time (1789) her Majesty's health was less uniformly good," wrote Mrs.

Papendiek. "The dropsy, which had been floating in her const.i.tution since the birth of Prince Alfred, now made its deposit, and caused her at times much suffering." She had been much upset by the King's various outbreaks of violence in 1804, and was, indeed, so alarmed that thereafter she saw little of him. "The Queen lives upon ill terms with the King. They never sleep or dine together; she persists in living entirely separate," wrote Lord Colchester; and Lord Malmesbury recorded: "The Queen will never receive the King without one of the Princesses being present; never says in reply a word. Piques herself on this discreet silence, and when in London, locks the door of her white-room--her boudoir--against him." On April 23, 1817, she was seized with a severe spasmodic attack, but with indomitable endurance she continued to hold Drawing-rooms and was present at the royal weddings that took place during the year. She was anxious to be taken to Windsor, but the step was long delayed, and she never got further than Kew, where she died after a lingering and painful illness, on November 16, 1818.

In that year Byron wrote, "the poor good King may live to 200; he continues in good bodily health, and is perfectly happy, conversing with the dead, and sometimes relating pleasant things. They say it is a most charming illusion."[339]

[339] Byron: _Letters and Journal_.

Early in January, 1820, it became known that the old King was unwell, and though a rea.s.suring bulletin was issued--"His Majesty's disorder has undergone no sensible alteration. His Majesty's bodily health has partaken some of the infirmities of age, but has been generally good during the last month"--it was still believed that he would not recover.

He could not get warm, his food did not nourish him, and his frame grew more and more emaciated; but it was not until January 27, when for the first time he kept his bed, that the physicians p.r.o.nounced his life in danger. Two days later death claimed him. "A few minutes before this venerable monarch expired, he extended his arms, and bade his attendants raise him up--the doctors signified to his attendants not to do so, in the supposition that the effort would extinguish life,--but upon his repeating the request, they obeyed, and he thanked them. His lips were parched, and occasionally wetted with a sponge. He, with perfect presence of mind, said: 'Do not wet my lips but when I open my mouth.'

And when done he added, thank you, it does me good.'"[340]

[340] _Jerningham Letters._

So on January 29, 1820, died George III in the sixtieth year of his reign, and at the patriarchal age of eighty-one, unhonoured and unsung, the monarch of the greatest country that the world has yet seen, yet unenvied by the lowest of his subjects. "What preacher need moralize on this story; what words save the simplest are requisite to tell it? It is too terrible for tears." So runs Thackeray's exquisite pa.s.sage on the downfall of George III, with which this work may fittingly conclude.

"The thought of such misery smites me down in submission before the Ruler of kings and men, the Monarch supreme over empires and republics, the inscrutable Dispenser of Life, death, happiness, victory.... Low he lies, to whom the proudest used to kneel once, and who was cast lower than the poorest: dead, whom millions prayed for in vain. Driven off his throne, buffeted by rude hands; with his children in revolt; the darling of his old age killed before him untimely; our Lear hangs over her breathless lips and cries, 'Cordelia, Cordelia, stay a little!'

'Vex not his ghost--Oh! let him pa.s.s--he hates him That would upon the rack of this tough world Stretch him out longer!'

Hus.h.!.+ Strife and Quarrel, over the solemn grave! Sound, trumpets, a mournful march! Fall, dark curtain, upon his pageant, his pride, his grief, his awful tragedy!"

THE END