So the Prince of Orange was accepted, and it is to be hoped he never heard the unkind remarks that the bride's family made behind his back, for the queen always spoke of him as "the animal," and everybody ridiculed him. The arrangements for the marriage could not be completed without application to parliament for a dower. A committee was appointed to provide one, and they resolved to sell lands in the island of St. Christopher to the amount of eighty thousand pounds, and to make over that sum to the king for his eldest daughter. As soon as the bridegroom was informed that this important matter had been settled, he repaired to England, and went direct to Somerset House, which had been prepared for him and his attendants. Princess Anne was not flurried in the least, when she was informed of his arrival. She was playing on the harpsichord at the time, and went on as though nothing unusual had happened. If she felt any curiosity to behold the man she was to marry, she certainly did not betray it, but appeared remarkably indifferent, and proved herself an uncommonly strong-minded young woman.
A few days after his arrival in England the Prince of Orange was attacked with a severe illness, which confined him to his bed for many weeks. During the whole of that time not a single member of the royal family went near him, and it seemed to concern Princess Anne very little to know whether he were well or ill. The prince made no complaint about this shabby treatment, but his attendants did, and all they made by it was being called "Dutch boobies." The marriage was to have taken place before the end of the year, but it had to be postponed until the following March, and during the interval some of the arrangements that had been begun had to be left as they stood, half completed. No one was more annoyed by this postponement than the Duchess of Marlborough, for an enclosed passage way through which the wedding procession was to pass had been built up close to the windows of Marlborough House, and completely darkened the rooms. There it had to stay for four months, and the duchess frequently looked up at the boards, and said: "I do wish the princess would oblige me by taking away her orange chest!"
A.D. 1734. It was January before the bridegroom was well enough to be removed to Bath, and a couple of months later before his health was entirely restored. At last, on the fourteenth of March, the marriage was solemnized at St. James's Chapel by the Bishop of London.
Everything was conducted with great splendor, and the groom was attired in a complete suit of cloth of gold, in which the royal parents thought he looked more like a baboon than ever. The bride wore a robe of silver tissue, with a train six yards long, which was supported by ten young ladies of noble birth, all dressed in the same gorgeous material. The ceremony took place in the evening, and was succeeded by a grand public banquet, the festivities being kept up until long after midnight. Queen Caroline wept as she walked in the procession through the brilliantly lighted gallery, and observed the deformed bit of humanity that her daughter had accepted for a husband. To be sure Anne was by no means a beauty; but she was a well-developed, fair complexioned, bright-eyed young woman, though perhaps too stout. But the bridegroom's ugliness was extraordinary. If you looked at him from behind he appeared to have no head, and from before, he seemed possessed of neither neck nor legs; besides, there was something disgusting about him which gave the idea of uncleanliness,—a very offensive breath. Strange to say, Anne adored her "monster" after a time, though he never cared particularly about her. She treated him with the utmost consideration and respect, addressed all her remarks to him, and applauded whatever he said. Perhaps she did this to pretend that she was perfectly happy; but certain it is, that the homage she showed her little husband was perfectly absurd.
During the week following the marriage Frederick, Prince of Wales, took it upon himself to show the bridegroom the sights of London; and then it suddenly struck the government that, as he was now son-in-law to the king, he ought to be naturalized. Accordingly, the necessary bill was made out and passed unanimously; but the prince received the announcement that he had become an Englishman with an indifference that proved how little he appreciated the honor. It was much more gratifying to him when he heard that the king had sent a message to the House of Commons that he had settled five thousand pounds a year on Princess Anne for life.
The bride and groom set out for Holland on the tenth of April, and before three months had elapsed Anne was back in England, where she seemed determined to remain. Neither of her parents desired her presence; but they could not prevail upon her to return to her new home until towards the close of the year. Just at that time Queen Caroline dismissed Lady Suffolk from her office of mistress of the robes, and appointed the Countess of Tankerville in her stead.
Prince Frederick was very much displeased with his sister for marrying before he did, but still more so with his father for settling a sum of money on her when he had not been so favored. The great trouble with him was that he was heavily in debt; and, out of the hundred thousand pounds granted to him by parliament, the king allowed him only thirty-six thousand, appropriating the rest himself. No doubt he allowed the prince little or much money, according as he behaved well or ill; and this was certainly humiliating to one of his station.
Her son's conduct was the more painful to Queen Caroline because she was so kind and considerate of others herself. Here is a little anecdote in proof of this. One of the princesses had suffered a lady-in-waiting to stand behind her chair one morning for nearly an hour without the least occasion; the queen observed this lack of consideration, but said nothing at the moment. The same evening the princess was made to stand while reading to her mother until she was well-nigh exhausted; then, after explaining why she had permitted her to remain in that position so long, Queen Caroline added: "You are now, my dear, capable of feeling how improper it is, unnecessarily, to make those who are about you the victims of etiquette." A lesson so taught was not likely to be disregarded.
About this time Queen Caroline's mind was occupied with a matter that caused intense excitement in England. This was Sir Robert Walpole's excise scheme, which can be explained in a few words. After the civil war certain articles, such as beer, ale, cider, tea, coffee, wine, vinegar, tobacco, and sugar, had been subject to duty for the purpose of supplying the government with money. This was not in favor with the populace, because it increased the price of such articles as were taxed, and made the cost of living higher than it had been before. Then certain tradesmen, rather than pay the duty, organized a system of smuggling, which was done with the aid of gangs of armed men, who beat, abused, and even murdered those custom-house officers who insisted on performing their duty. Walpole organized a plan to prevent the smuggling and the recurrence of these outrages. It is not necessary to enter into the details of his scheme, but no sooner was it made public than the agitation became intense. Taxation in any form was regarded in the light of tyranny, and the mob that gathered around the doors of the House of Commons during the fierce debates, which lasted for three weeks, declared that they would not submit to slavery,—for so it appeared to them. Walpole's proposition was not really unreasonable at all, but the populace were driven to madness by pamphlets and ballads distributed among them by those who desired to further their own personal interests in one way or another. Riots threatened on all sides, and even the soldiers, who had got the idea that the minister's excise scheme would raise the price of tobacco, cursed parliament and the administration, and murmurs of treason reached to the very palace walls. Bonfires and illumina-