CHAPTER III.
Effects of Napoleon's capture — The Navy in 1815 — Margate and Ramsgate — French Prisoners of war — Treaty of Peace with France — Napoleon's house — A soldier's letter — A zealous Lord Mayor — Hotels and clubs in 1815.
The effect of the capture and banishment of Napoleon was felt immediately, a great strain was taken off Europe, and it was known to all, that the peace, after so long a conflict, would be enduring. On the 17th of August we read, "The impressment of seamen is directed to be discontinued at all the seaports, as also the receiving of volunteers, except for the peace establishment. Orders have been issued at the different ports to pay off the Navy; and the seamen are to be sent to their respective homes, in small vessels, to be in readiness for that purpose."
The Navy was a rough school then, and the officers mainly came from a very different class to that from which they are now recruited. What a Midshipman's berth was like then, we may learn from the following extract from a letter:
"The Midshipman, whose Friends were not born before him, as the phrase goes, is easily distinguished amongst his more fortunate companions in arms; you generally see him attired like the prodigal son returning from his occupation of a swineherd, than a British officer. His perforated worsted hose, shoes which have a very great resemblance to sandals, threadbare pantaloons which were once blue, a tattered 'uniform!' coat, and a slouched hat, show that 'poverty, and not his will, consents.'
"A Midshipman's berth (in a dark cockpit under water) has long been proverbial for the convenience, and elegance of its comforts; a large deal table, abundantly ornamented with hieroglyphicks, a form, and some broken chairs, two beautiful brass candlesticks, well charged with grease, lights which seem to render darkness more visible, about ten plates and dishes, seven knives and forks, five pewter spoons, with cups and saucers in proportion, two old decanters without necks, and a very large stock of empty bottles, usually form the earthly stock of its utensils. To describe the valet, or attendant, would, indeed, be a difficult task; perhaps the reader can call to mind Le Sage's description of Domingo, whose vigilance prevented Gil Blas' escape from the Cavern? If so, I need not trouble you with anything further on the subject, except that the one is, generally, the counterpart of the other."
In the following, under date of October 3rd, we see the germ of our present steam navy: "We understand that a distinguished British Officer, who had an opportunity of viewing the steam frigate at New York, pronounced it to be the most formidable battery of defence ever invented (they are to be stationed at all their different seaports): and the Officer alluded to, has, we hear, strongly recommended their adoption, particularly for the Bay of Gibraltar."
Steam had already been introduced into our Mercantile marine, and we find (September), "A Margate hoy of large dimensions, propelled by steam, goes constantly to and fro from London to Margate. From its novelty, and the certainty of its arrival within a given time (about twelve hours), it is much thronged with passengers."
It was the fashionable month for those popular watering-places, Margate and Ramsgate, and how our grandparents took their holidays is thus described: "How very different is a watering-place from the rest of the world! In a commercial town every face you meet, carries the word 'business,' every one seems so absorbed in his own cares, as not even to be conscious of the existence of his fellow men. Life seems to have an object, you involuntarily quicken your pace, cast your eyes straight forward, and enumerate to yourself the several matters you have to transact. There is nothing of all this at a Watering-Place, there you find the inhabitants divided into two classes, gapers, and smilers. By the gapers must be understood, those who are here to spend their money, and be amused; and, by the smilers, those who are here to gain their money, and be maintained.
"Now the employment of the gapers is to lie in bed all the fore part of the day, 'the dewy hour of prime,' to wear a great coat, brown hat, brown shoes, bathe, and ride half a mile on a donkey, with a boy behind to whip it, read the newspapers during the middle of the day, and in the evening to dine, to go to a promenade in a ballroom, where during nine-tenths of the time every one sits still; or, to the theatre, where the pure air, and pure light of heaven are shut out, to make room for otto of roses and Argand lamps. Thus the amusements of the citizen are scarcely varied by his journey, or, rather, his voyage, for the packets bring the mass of visitors to Margate. The first effort the worthy Cit makes to get rid of the foul air of London, is to stow himself and family on board the hoy; here he finds eighty or a hundred amateurs of fresh air. Then if the wind be fair, and not too strong, they proceed tolerably well, but should the wind be foul, which Heaven in its great mercy forefend, such a scene opens, such qualms, and faintings,
'Such revisitings,
As make day hideous, and us poor fools of nature
Most horribly to shake our dispositions.'"
Although there was virtually peace throughout Europe, the Definitive Treaty of Peace, between the Allied Powers and France, was not signed until the 20th of November, at Paris: consequently the prisoners of war were not released. We can well understand the irritation of the poor fellows, who knew that it was only red tape that was preventing their return to their country and homes, and are, therefore, not surprised to hear (September 13th), that "the prisoners in confinement on board the prison ships at Cowes, meditated escape on the night of the 1st instant, but their plans were fortunately detected, through the perseverance and exertions of Lieutenant Whaley, 18th Regiment of Foot, Commanding Officer on board the ships. To show the length they intended to go, if necessary, to effect their purpose, they had actually sworn themselves to secrecy, by drinking their own blood mixed with cold water."
They were rather expensive acquaintances, for I find that the cost of them, during the greater part of the war, for provisions, clothing, and superintendence, was calculated in detail, to amount to £1000 per diem—and this was exclusive of building materials used for their prisons.
The text of the Treaty arrived here on the 27th of November. London was illuminated, Peace was proclaimed, as was also a Day of Thanksgiving.
Napoleon's House and furniture were manufactured here, and were ready for shipment by the end of October. I have but space to describe the house; suffice it to say, that the furniture was fitted for the use of an opulent gentleman, rather than for the quondam ruler of Europe. "The framework for the house is nearly completed at Woolwich. The front is in the Grecian style. It is about 120 feet in length, containing fourteen windows, and a fine open corridor. The depth of the building is about 100 feet, with a back corridor, almost making the whole structure square.—It is two stories high, and will have an elegant cottage appearance. The ground-floor of the right division of the house, contains Bonaparte's apartments. In the centre of this wing is his drawing-room, which, as well as the other apartments for his accommodation, is about 30 feet in length, by a breadth of 20. This proportion runs through the whole. Next, is his dining-room, with an adjoining library, behind which, is a capacious billiard-room. His bedroom, dressing-room, and bath, are of course connected. The left division of the edifice contains apartments for the officers of his suite. The rear comprises the servants' and store rooms. The kitchen is detached from the regular building, and yet perfectly convenient to the dining-room, without communicating any offensive fumes to the principal range of rooms. This is of no small value in a sultry climate. The Hall is plain, and merely furnished with seats. The Corridors will furnish a cool and shaded promenade."
China, stationery, and two fowling-pieces, one with percussion locks, and every necessary appertaining to them were sent out, as well as artisans to fit up the house; and the whole of this consignment, weighed nearly five hundred tons.
The following letter, which seems genuine, tells a tale of what our soldiers went through in the early part of this century:—
"Paris in france 5th Sept. 1815.
"Dear Mother and Sister,—I have taken the oppertunity of writing these lines to you hoping it will find you in good health, as it now leaves me at this present thank be to God for it. I am very sorry I did not anser your Letters as I had not opportunity for we was very busy fighting the french a long time every day in the Mountains in Spain and I always had good luck til one day I received two balls one hitt me right on my brest plate and knocked me downe and as soon as I got my wind agen I fired about ten rounds more and then another hitt me through my hip which was bad along time and one came through my Haversack and another throw my trowsers and shirt and that same night was very wet and no fires could be lighted and it was very cold on the Mountains but the Dockter was very good to me and after that we drove the french into their own Country and made them beg for peace and then we went into Ammerica into upper Kanndy where we had all the fighting with the Yankeys till we got a piece of them seven hundred miles up the Contrey nigh to the falls of Naygaray which you know is 1 of the 7 wonders of the world and there my Captain was so kind as to give me a pass without date and I workd for a large farmer all winter and had plenty of vittles and a good bed fit for any Gentleman and the Ridgment was then ling in Barns and when the men had to get up their hare was frose to their heads and they could not pull the Blankets from the floore and I thote myself well off and this farmer bid 100 Dollars for my discharge and we returned to Spithead and was 6 weeks on the Water which is 4 thousand 5 hundred milles and is colled a good passage[16] and wee could not get a shore after all this for we was ordered to french flanders and at last we have got to Paris and is in the Buss de bulling near to it which is a very fine place like a grove for a gateway and the french is very civil funny fellows to us now cause they know we can defend ourselves and they do not care for nothing but to get our Monney which theare is plenty way to spend and theare is shows and Montybanks every night and sundays and all and there is no Justesses or Methodys to stop them and there is all sorts of sights and Bartlemy fair is nothing to it and we are now agen commanded by brave Duke Wellington that always conqurs—and there is soldiers of all sorts here past all telling Rooshons Prooshons and Austrions and Jarmans of all kind and the Rooshons are verry good naturd cretures and will do anything for an Englishman and says their prayrs evry Morning and night and will fight their ennemis for ever for the Emperor and the Virgin Marey the same as we do for king George and old England, and the Prushons is very quiet men and smokes all day long and the Austrions is fine tall fellows and the foot is drest as handsome as our Horse Officers and all our Officers is very good Gentlemen and we think to stay in france two Years and I am very contented—dear mother I wish it was not so far off or you and Bet coud come for I have savd some Monney and I larnt a littel french in Kannday but it is not the same sort it is here give my kind love to all inquiring friends and pray God bless you all from your loving son til death,"——&c. &c.
What would the modern Patres Conscripti of the City say if a Lord Mayor were to appear like unto this? "We are happy to state that the Lord Mayor has commenced his Office with the most commendable alacrity. His lordship visited Billingsgate market, at five o'clock on Tuesday morning; and, yesterday morning, about the same hour, perambulated the streets, and visited the different watch-houses in the City. From a continuation of this conduct, at uncertain periods, we anticipate the most beneficial results." I have seen no more records of these visits, and thence judge that some judicious friend had whispered in his ear, the advice of Talleyrand to a young diplomat—"Sur tout, mon ami, pas trop de zèle."
A very few more odds and ends, and I must close the Chronicle of 1815. On the 5th of December, was hanged, at Newgate, John Binstead, convicted of forgery, and at his execution, a peculiar superstition is recorded: "While on the scaffold, Binstead, in conversation with the Rev. Mr. Cotton (the ordinary of Newgate) requested that his hands might not be applied to persons who came to be rubbed for the wen."
Of the Hotels and Clubs of this time Captain Gronow writes thus: "There was a class of men, of very high rank, such as Lords Wellington, Nelson, and Collingwood, Sir John Moore, and some few others, who never frequented the Clubs. The persons to whom I refer, and amongst whom were many members of the sporting world, used to congregate at a few hotels. The Clarendon, Limmer's, Ibbetson's, Fladong's, Stephens', and Grillon's, were the fashionable hotels. The Clarendon was then kept by a French cook, Jacquiers, who contrived to amass a large sum of money in the service of Louis the Eighteenth, in England, and, subsequently, with Lord Darnley. This was the only public hotel where you could get a genuine French dinner, and, for which, you seldom paid less than three or four pounds; your bottle of champagne, or of claret, in the year 1814, costing you a guinea.
"Limmer's was the evening resort for the sporting world; in fact, it was a midnight Tattersall's, where you heard nothing but the language of the turf, and where men, with not very clean hands, used to make up their books. Limmer's was the most dirty hotel in London; but, in the gloomy, comfortless coffee-room, might be seen many members of the rich squirearchy, who visited London during the sporting season. This hotel was frequently so crowded that a bed could not be obtained for any amount of money; but you could always get a very good plain English dinner, an excellent bottle of port, and some famous gin-punch.
"Ibbetson's Hotel was chiefly patronized by the clergy and young men from the universities. The Charges there were more economical than at similar establishments. Fladong's, in Oxford Street, was chiefly frequented by naval men; for, in those days, there was no club for sailors. Stephens', in Bond Street, was a fashionable hotel, supported by officers of the army, and men about town. If a stranger asked to dine there, he was stared at by the waiters, and very solemnly assured that there was no table vacant. It was not an uncommon thing to see thirty or forty saddle horses, and tilburys, waiting outside this hotel. I recollect two of my old Welsh friends, who used, each of them, to dispose of five bottles of wine, daily, residing here in 1815, when the familiar joints, boiled fish, and fried soles, were the only eatables you could order.
"The members of the clubs of London, many years since, were persons, almost without exception, belonging exclusively to the aristocratic world. 'My tradesmen,' as King Allen used to call the bankers and the merchants, had not then invaded White's, Boodle's, Brookes', or Wattiers' in Bolton Street, Piccadilly; which, with the Guards, Arthur's, and Graham's, were the only clubs at the west end of the town. White's was decidedly the most difficult of entry; its list of members comprised nearly all the noble names of Great Britain.
"The politics of White's Club were, then, decidedly Tory. It was here that play was carried on to an extent which made many ravages in large fortunes, the traces of which have not disappeared at the present day. General Scott, the father-in-law of George Canning, and the Duke of Portland, was known to have won at White's, £200,000, thanks to his notorious sobriety, and knowledge of the game of whist. The General possessed a great advantage over his companions by avoiding those indulgences at the table which used to muddle other men's brains. He confined himself to dining off something like a boiled chicken, with toast and water; by such a regimen he came to the whist table with a clear head, and, possessing, as he did, a remarkable memory, with great coolness and judgment, he was able honestly to win the enormous sum of £200,000.
"At Brookes', for nearly half a century, the play was of a more gambling character than at White's. Faro and Macao were indulged in to an extent which enabled a man to win, or to lose a considerable fortune in one night. It was here that Charles James Fox, Selwyn, Lord Carlisle, and other great Whigs, won and lost hundreds of thousands; frequently remaining at the table for many hours without rising.
"On one occasion, Lord Robert Spencer contrived to lose the last shilling of his considerable fortune, given him by his brother, the Duke of Marlborough; General Fitzpatrick being much in the same condition, they agreed to raise a sum of money, in order that they might keep a faro bank. The members of the club made no objection, and ere long, they carried out their design. As is generally the case, the bank was a winner, and Lord Robert bagged, as his share of the proceeds £100,000. He retired, strange to say, from the fœtid atmosphere of play, with the money in his pockets, and never again gambled. George Harley Drummond, of the famous banking house, Charing Cross, only played once in his whole life at White's Club, at whist, on which occasion he lost £20,000 to Brummell. This event caused him to retire from the banking house of which he was a partner.
"Lord Carlisle was one of the most remarkable victims amongst the players at Brookes', and Charles Fox, his friend, was not more fortunate, being, subsequently, always in pecuniary difficulties. Many a time, after a long night of hard play, the loser found himself at the Israelitish establishment of Howard and Gibbs, then the fashionable, and patronized, money-lenders. These gentlemen never failed to make hard terms with the borrower, although ample security was invariably demanded.
"The Guards Club was established for the three regiments of Foot Guards, and was conducted upon a military system. Billiards and low whist were the only games indulged in. The dinner was, perhaps, better than at most clubs, and considerably cheaper. I had the honour of being a member for several years, during which time I have nothing to remember, but the most agreeable incidents. Arthur's and Graham's were less aristocratic than those I have mentioned; it was at the latter, thirty years ago, that a most painful circumstance took place. A nobleman of the highest position, and influence in society, was detected in cheating at cards, and, after a trial, which did not terminate in his favour, he died of a broken heart.
"Upon one occasion, some gentlemen of both White's and Brookes' had the honour to dine with the Prince Regent, and during the conversation, the Prince inquired what sort of dinners they got at their clubs; upon which, Sir Thomas Stepney, one of the guests, observed that their dinners were always the same, 'the eternal joints, or beefsteaks, the boiled fowl with oyster sauce, and an apple tart—this is what we have, sir, at our clubs, and very monotonous fare it is.' The Prince, without further remark, rang the bell for his cook, Wattier, and, in the presence of those who dined at the Royal table, asked him whether he would take a house, and organize a dinner club. Wattier assented, and named Madeson, the Prince's page, manager, and Labourie, the cook, from the Royal kitchen. The Club flourished only a few years, owing to high play that was carried on there. The Duke of York patronized it, and was a member. I was a member in 1816, and frequently saw his Royal Highness there. The dinners were exquisite; the best Parisian cooks could not beat Labourie. The favourite game played was Macao."
CHAPTER IV.
1816.
Day of Thanksgiving — "Battle for the Standard" — Return of the troops — Frozen game brought over by Esquimaux — The Regent's practical joke — Rejection of the Prince of Orange by the Princess Charlotte, and acceptance of Prince Leopold as her husband — Her marriage — "The R——l Whiskers" — The Regent's yacht.
This new year began well. The 18th of January was chosen as a solemn day of Thanksgiving to the Almighty for the blessings of Peace—a form, which one would have thought, would, out of the commonest sentiment of gratitude, have taken place six months previously, after Waterloo, and the submission of Napoleon; but, of course, gratitude to God must needs be subservient to diplomatic Red Tape; and He had to wait for the expression of the nation's thankfulness. This day was also the Queen's birthday, and the guns were fired, and the coloured lamps were lit at night, in token of the country's joy at having so gracious a person so long spared to them, so "Serve God and honour the Queen" was thoroughly, and properly, carried out at an economical rate. There was also, out of pure generosity, something thrown in. The French Colours, taken at Waterloo, two in number, were deposited in the Chapel at Whitehall. Country newspapers please copy the following: "The ceremony was conducted with perfect order; and, associated, as it was, with the duties of religious worship; the memory of the Contest in which the trophies were won, and the sight of the brave veterans who had survived its carnage, the influence it produced was not of an ordinary nature, but rather approached to a sentiment of sublimity" (Times). Perhaps a portion of the "sublimity" was owing to the fact that the Guards "were dressed in new clothing, with Caps on a new principle, and, as we are informed, far superior in comfort to the wearers."
This Military tailoring is a craze which seizes great minds at times. It has needed the colossal brains of the Duke of York, the Prince Regent (who, when he took to yachting, the Service prayed to be delivered from, in case he should alter their already too expensive uniform), of Albert the Good, whose hat is enshrined in the pages of Punch, and the Duke of Cambridge, whose attention to buttons, and facings, has won him world-wide renown—and everybody is so much better, and more efficient, from the outcome of their laborious study.
One of these Eagles was won after a stubborn fight, which would have entitled its Captor to the Victoria Cross, now-a-days. It was the metaphorical captive of the spear and bow of Sergeant Ewart, whose exploit, on his being gazetted Ensign in the 3rd Royal Veteran battalion, is thus contemporaneously chronicled. It was on the 18th of June, and on "the afternoon of that eventful day, the 92nd Regiment, reduced to two hundred, charged a column of the Enemy, from two thousand to three thousand strong; they broke into the centre of the column, and the moment they pierced it, the Scotch Greys dashed in to their support, when both these gallant Corps cheered, and huzzaed 'Scotland for ever!' The Enemy, to a man, were put to the sword, or made prisoners. The Greys, afterwards, charged the second line, which amounted to five thousand men; it was in the first that Sergeant Ewart captured the French eagle; the affair is thus modestly detailed by himself: 'I had a hard contest for it; the officer who carried it thrust for my groin; I parried it off, and cut him through the head; after which I was attacked by one of the lancers, who threw his lance at me, but missed the mark, by my throwing it off with my sword by my right side, then I cut him from the chin upwards, and went through his teeth. Next, I was attacked by a foot soldier, who, after firing, charged me with his bayonet, but I parried it off, and cut him through the head—so that finished the contest for the eagle.'" An incident which is well commemorated by Ansdell, in his picture (1848), the "Battle for the Standard."
The Medals for Waterloo and bars for the Campaign were now being distributed, but it took about forty years to thoroughly give them to their rightful owners;[17] their distribution being about as slow as is naval prize money, or the Banda and Kirwee booty.
The troops were not too quick in coming back from Paris, which they had occupied, and the Foot Guards only returned late in the year of 1815. In fact, in January of this year, they took up their old quarters at Windsor, in presence of the Queen, princesses, and the most puissant Duke of York. They wore laurels in their Caps on this occasion. I do not think they have worn them since.
Judging from our standpoint, one can hardly realize the first importation of frozen meat; and it was duly chronicled as a curiosity: "To such a pitch is mercantile speculation for the luxurious now arrived, that we understand three poor Laplanders have come over in the last packet from Gottenburg, and are on their way to London with five sledges, laden with Lapland Game, consisting of Tjadear (Cock of the Wood), Cappercally Orrar (black cock), Suö Ripor (Ptarmigan), Hjarpar (hazel hen), except the black cock all species of the grouse, but now extinct in this country. Those birds are considered the greatest delicacies of the North, and are, we are told, in the highest state of preservation."
This was written at the end of January, and, at the beginning of February, we find that our unfortunate Northern guests had landed on a somewhat inhospitable shore, for they had to pay over £50 duty for imported game, and £10 freight from Harwich to London. But this frozen game was quite novel, and it deserves a contemporary account of what they thought of it at the time. "The state of preservation in which these birds are, is really surprising, after travelling upwards of one thousand miles. They are preserved by being hung up to freeze as soon as killed, and, afterwards, being packed in cases, lined with skin to keep out the air. This process so effectually preserves them, that when the packages are opened, the birds are frozen quite hard; and those packages which are not opened, will continue in this state for some weeks. The mode in which the small birds are dressed in Sweden, is by stewing them in cream, with a little butter in it, after being larded, which, it is said, gives them an exquisite flavour: the large ones are roasted and basted with cream, which is, afterwards, served up with sauce. These Laplanders wear a kind of great coat, made of reindeer skin, with caps and gloves of the same, which gives them a very grotesque appearance: they are very shy of appearing in the streets in this attire, on account of their attracting so many people round them."
This absurdity of charging an import duty on game was enforced, not only in the case of these poor Laplanders, but, at other times: for instance, under date of 24th of February we read: "A greengrocer of Brighton imported twenty partridges and two hares from France, and paid the importation duty on them; he was, notwithstanding, convicted of exposing the said game for sale by the Magistrates at Uckfield, and fined £110, which, being unable to pay, he was committed for three months to Lewes House of Correction."
The Esquimaux stopped all the summer and autumn in England, and were a popular exhibition. They travelled all over the country, and we hear of one of them in the Caledonian Mercury, September same year: "His canoe is esteemed a very great curiosity, weighing only 16lbs., he rows it by one oar or paddle, and is so very dexterous in managing it, that he far outsails any boat with six oars. He is very expert in diving, and also in throwing his darts; he is so fastened to his seat, that he cannot fall out—as a drawer, like the mouth of a purse, girds him about the loins, so that, in an instant, he may be seen to dive under the water, head down, and keel uppermost; again, in the twinkling of an eye, he raises himself erect out of the water, and scuds along as if nothing had happened."
On February 8th the Alceste, sailed from Portsmouth for China, having on board Lord Amherst, appointed Ambassador to that Country, and a numerous suite, the ships also conveying numerous presents for the Emperor. Of this expedition we shall hear more in next year's Chronicle.
The Regent was always being satirized by the publication of some of his own puerilities, or those of his suite, who, of course, took their tone from him. The Brighton Herald is answerable for the following: "A gallant Admiral, residing at the Pavilion, was, a few days since, presented by a certain Great Personage, with a beautiful milk-white mare, which it was stated, had just arrived from Hanover. Nothing was talked of but this fine creature; and every one seemed anxious to have her merits put to the test. The Admiral mounted, tried her in all her paces, and though he could but approve, yet he pronounced her to be greatly inferior to a favourite black mare of his own. The present, however, coming from so high a quarter, was, of course, received with every expression of duty and thankfulness. The long switching tail of the animal, not exactly suiting the Admiral's taste, he sent her to a farrier to have it cropped,—when, lo! he speedily received intelligence that it was a false tail, and that, beneath it, appeared a short black, one. This curious fact led to a minuter inspection, when it was at length discovered that this beautiful white Hanoverian horse was no other than the good-humoured Admiral's own black mare, which had been painted in a manner to elude his detection." Thus it was that "le Roi s'amuse."
But the Regent was fit for better things. On the very same date that the above was recorded, we find that he ordered, at his own expense, a splendid monument to be erected at Rome, in memory of Cardinal York, the last legitimate descendant of the Stuarts.
Another serious event was preparing for him, the marriage of his daughter. We have seen that she would have none of the Prince of Orange—it is not quite certain whether, at this time, she was dotingly fond of him who was to be her partner in life for the brief portion of time allotted her. At all events, he came over here, in February, as the suitor for her hand—arriving on the 21st, and dutifully waited upon "papa" on the 23rd. That his suit would be a prosperous one, there could hardly be a doubt, for he was received by the Duke of Clarence, Sir R. Bloomfield (the Regent's Chamberlain), Count Hardenberg, and the Nobility then residing at the Pavilion.
"Happy's the wooing, that's not long a-doing," says the old rhyme, and this was speedily brought to a conclusion. The Prince paid his devoirs to his future bride, and her "stern parent," and then gracefully retired from the scene. In those days of no Telegraphs, the news of people's happiness, or misfortunes, was longer in reaching them than now, for a King's Messenger had to go to Paris, only to find Prince Leopold gone to Berlin, and to follow him there, in order to tell him that the English Princess Royal had been graciously pleased to accept him for her husband. On the Messenger's return, the consent of the Prince Regent was officially given, and the Lord Chancellor affixed the great Seal to the Marriage Contract.
On Thursday, the 14th of March, Lord Castlereagh appeared at the bar of the House of Commons with the following message from the Prince Regent:
"The Prince Regent, acting in the name, and on the behalf of his Majesty, having given the royal consent to a marriage between his daughter, her Royal Highness the Princess Charlotte Augusta, and his Serene Highness Leopold George Frederick, Prince of Cobourg of Saalfield, has thought fit to communicate the same to this House.
"His Royal Highness is fully persuaded that this alliance cannot but be acceptable to all his Majesty's faithful subjects; and the many proofs which his Highness has received of the affectionate attachment of this House to his Majesty's person and family, leave him no room to doubt of the concurrence and assistance of this House, in enabling him to make such a provision, with a view to the said marriage, as may be suitable to the honour and dignity of the Country.
G. P. R."
The reply to this piece of blarney was a dutiful, or, more properly speaking, "an humble," address, to the Regent "to return to his Royal Highness the thanks of this House for his most gracious communication of the intended marriage between," &c., &c., "and to express our entire satisfaction at the prospect of an alliance with a Protestant prince of so illustrious a family," &c. &c.—and, as a matter of course, next day the House of Commons did what was expected of them, and voted a grant of £60,000 a year for the young couple, with the addition of a year's income for outfits—£40,000 for furniture, plate, &c.; £10,000 for articles of dress for the princess; and £10,000 to increase her Highness's jewels.
A Bill for his naturalization was brought into the House of Lords on the 26th of March, and was speedily made law. For some reason or other, perhaps because she was the daughter of her mother, the Prince Regent did not like his daughter, and, at this time, his dislike was publicly spoken of. Among other things, she was not allowed to use the Royal livery (scarlet), a petty piece of spite, and the public feeling at this time is very well reflected by the following extract from the Morning Chronicle of the 13th of April:
"When the Prince of Coburg came up from Brighton to the Stud-house in Hampton Park, on Saturday last, he visited both Clermont and Bottleys. The first cannot be let, but may be sold; the second cannot be sold, but may be let. Clermont is a noble house, with a park of about 350 acres, well wooded. The value, including the timber, may be about £50,000. It is seventeen miles from town, and about the same distance from Windsor. But, again, we ask, why purchase such a place when there are so many palaces unoccupied?
"One reason, rather improbable indeed, is given in answer to this question; viz., that the Prince Regent may yet have a son; and that, to set up the Princess Charlotte in royal state as heir apparent to the throne, when, by such an event she might be disappointed of that elevation, would be highly improper. And this reason is given for all the proposed regulations—the revolting title of Kendal—the green livery—the private houses—the restriction of drawing rooms, &c., &c., &c. Is there lurking under this specious pretext of future probabilities any design of a measure[18] (which recent circumstances, we are told, have made practicable) by which they might be realized? But, granting even the event to happen, that, by a second marriage, the Prince Regent should have a son, surely it would then be the proper season to make the arrangements for the Princess Charlotte which are now establishing, and the Prince, her august Consort, might safely rely on the generosity and justice of the Nation for an adequate provision, in any change of circumstances that might affect his fortune, in the proposed union. The subject is too delicate to enlarge upon in a journal, but it is freely discussed in the upper circles, as if it were a matter actually contemplated at Court."
The Royal Marriage Act, which was rendered necessary by the social escapades of the sons of George III. left and still leaves a limited choice of husbands to the female scions of Royalty, and, as they must be Protestants, they are confined mainly to the petty princelets of Germany. Time does not change John Bull's feelings with regard to such marriages, and the satirist from that time to our own, has always ridiculed the comparative poverty of the husbands of our royal womanhood. It was so with Prince Albert, with the Duke of Teck, and the other German princes who have married into our Royal family. John Bull, doubtless from his insular prejudices, does not consider these marriages as equal, and, although he spends the money, he has the grumble thereon to which he considers himself to be entitled.
"A SINGLE LIFE ON THE CONTINENT, STARVING ON SOUR KROUT!!"
Hence the satirical print given herewith called "THE CONTRAST! or the Ci-devant German Captain in good Quarters!" May, 1816. One sketch is entitled, "A single life on the Continent, starving on Sour Krout!!" On the ground is a paper "Thoughts on a journey to Wales to seek my fortune, and better my condition." A mouse is nibbling at a "Map of the Principality of Coburg eight hundred square feet." The other is "Comes to England, is made a General,[19] and marries a lady of £60,000 per annum." On the wall is a picture of Camelford House, where the young couple spent their honeymoon; and, as a change from his former meagre fare, is shown a huge piece of roast beef, and Hock, Champagne, and Burgundy in abundance.
"COMES TO ENGLAND, IS MADE A GENERAL," &c.
Tradesmen were as eager then, as now, to catch hold of anything new—and consequently we find the Kendal scarf being sold, and the Coburg hat and Kendal bonnet, which seem to have been ordinary straw work, but "for superior quality, and pearl-like colour, must, on inspection, have certain claim to universal patronage."
On the 2nd of the "merry month of May" they were married. The bridegroom's costume seems to have been somewhat scanty, but yet he appears to have been rather proud of it, for "Prince Leopold very frequently appeared at the balcony to gratify their curiosity, dressed in a blue coat and a star." "At two o'clock his Serene Highness went in a curricle to Carlton House, and paid a morning visit to his intended bride. He also rode round the exterior of Carlton House to view his new travelling carriage. His Serene Highness afterwards returned to Clarence House a little before half-past three, when the crowd was so numerous, and the anxiety to see him so great, that the footmen, in letting him out of the carriage had nearly been pushed under it. A number of women and children were forced into Clarence House against their will, by the extreme pressure. In a few minutes after, his Serene Highness walked across to York House, when the crowd behaved extremely orderly, and, at the request of a few attendants, formed a clear passage for them to pass through.... The Princess Charlotte of Wales, at four o'clock, went in a carriage to the Queen's Palace, and had the windows down to gratify the curiosity of the crowd in Pall Mall, but they were found to be so extremely numerous, that the coachman could not, with safety, drive through them, and went through the Park. On his coming out to get into his carriage he was assailed by a number of females patting him on the back, and giving him good wishes. This delay gave a number of men an opportunity to take off the traces of the horses, in order to draw the carriage. They were prevailed upon to desist, but they did so (sic) a second time, and the Prince, it is supposed, would have indulged them in their desire, had not accidents been feared, and by exertions of the sentinels the traces were put to the carriage again, and the carriage proceeded to Carlton House amidst the loud huzzas of the populace."
After all this mobbing they got properly married, and set off for Oatland's—the Duke of York's mansion.
The bride was dressed in white llama and silver, and, perhaps, some of my lady readers will be pleased to hear that her frock was "finished with a very brilliant rollio of lama," which must have been very comforting to her. The Queen of Sheba would (to use an Americanism) have to have taken a "back seat" compared to the dear old Queen Charlotte, who must have been "exceeding magnifical." She wore "a beautiful gold tissue, trimmed with a mixture of gold and silver, having two flounces of brilliant silver net-work, richly embossed with stripes of gold lamé, and a superb head to the flounces of silver lamé border. The whole had a most grand, novel, and magnificent appearance."
R——L WHISKERS, 1816.
The satirical prints may, generally, be taken as a reflex of popular opinion, be it right or wrong, and the Princess was soon credited with having the upper hand in the domestic arrangements of her new household. She is depicted as wearing her husband's breeches, and taking the reins when driving—but this was meant for good-humoured badinage—not like the satires on the Regent, who was lampooned without mercy. His clothes, his personal appearance, even his whiskers were not allowed to pass unscathed—as the following will show:
"1816.
R——L WHISKERS.
L'Adieu.
From a puissant Prince, to his cast-off whiskers, on leaving London to make an Excursion.
Adieu, my dear Whiskers! dear Whiskers, adieu!
I ne'er shall love Whiskers, as I have lov'd you.
So becoming your form, and so brilliant your hue,
I ne'er admir'd Whiskers, as I've admir'd you.
Your curve was so lovely, so like a horse shoe,
Not a whisker at Court was so lovely as you.
The Baron Geramb's[20] were immense it is true,
But they didn't sweep round half so tasty as you,
Y—— ——'s[21] Whiskers comprise hair enough for a head,
But odious the shape, and the colour is red.
Of beauty, 'tis known, that the line is a curve,
Then the prize of all beauty you surely deserve;
For in curve so enchanting you lay on my chin,
You completely eclipsed all the blubber within.
Not Ganymede's self, when he waited on Jove,
Looked the model so like of the young God of Love;
Not Apollo the bright, nor Adonis the fair,
Were like, my dear whiskers—adorn'd to a hair!
Not drooping Narcissus, reclin'd o'er the stream,
Himself the dear object, himself the dear theme,
Was more charm'd with his face, thus presented to view,
Than I've been with mine, when encircl'd with you.
... ..."
A life of indolence, and sensual gratification, brought with it its concomitant punishment, and he suffered much from gout. There is a peep at his inner life from a Newspaper paragraph of the 26th of March, dated Brighton: "It is true that the Prince has been on horseback, and has rode for some time about the Pavilion lawn. An inclined plane was constructed, rising to about the height of two feet and a half, at the upper end of which was a platform. His Royal Highness was placed in a chair on rollers, and so moved up the ascent, and placed on the platform, which was then raised by screws, high enough to pass the horse under; and, finally, his Royal Highness was let gently down into the saddle. By these means the Regent was, undoubtedly, enabled to enjoy in some degree the benefit of air and exercise; but the exercise implied little of spontaneous muscular power, and cannot, certainly, be considered as a criterion of renovated strength."
A short trip to sea was suggested as likely to be of benefit to his health, and a Royal Yacht of some three hundred or four hundred tons burden was hauled up and put on the slips at Deptford Dockyard to be entirely new coppered and re-fitted throughout. The estimated cost of doing this was over sixty thousand pounds! of which the gilding alone is supposed to have absorbed nearly thirteen thousand five hundred pounds!! Why! the very blocks to the shrouds and rigging were fully gilt, and the whole of the internal fittings were of the most gorgeous description. The Royal Sovereign was re-launched at Deptford on the 8th of August, 1816, and, when the workmen had done with her, she was ordered round to Brighton, to be at the Regent's disposal.
