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,
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 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 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-
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vision 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 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 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 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 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 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, 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, 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."
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A.D. 1818. 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 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, 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 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." 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 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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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 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.
