The king now decided to undertake the education of Princess Charlotte himself, acting as trustee for the nation. His reason for this step was that he did not consider his son a proper person even to live in the same house with her, and it was not expedient that the mother should take her in charge. The Prince of Wales had not been on friendly terms with his parents for many months; but Mr. Pitt, who was again in power, attempted to bring about a reconciliation between him and the queen. This was not a difficult matter; for the mother's heart naturally yearned towards her son, and a dutiful note from him was answered affectionately by her.
In accordance with a desire expressed by the prince that he might be permitted to throw himself at the king's feet, an appointment was made for him at Kew; but, although the king went there specially for that purpose, the prince pleaded illness, and failed to appear. He was not ill, but very indignant because his father made frequent visits to the Princess of Wales, to whom he knew that, if he gave up his daughter to the king, some benefit would accrue. In order to avoid the necessity of giving his consent to this step he decided to forego the privilege he had asked. Three months later the interview really did take place, and the very first person to whom the king made a report of it was the Princess of Wales. He wrote her a most affectionate note, in which he assured her that nothing should be decided upon with regard to the future of her daughter without her concurrence, adding: "For your authority as a mother it is my object to support."
A.D. 1805. The king was so fond of his daughter-inlaw that he presented her with two beautiful Arabian horses and a very costly service of gold, and frequently expressed a desire to pass as much time in her society as possible, and to take her under his special protection.
Having presented the bad sides of the prince's character, it is only fair to tell something good of him; for we know that "there is good in all, though none all good," as the proverb says. Here is an anecdote that indicates kindness of heart. It is thus related by a person who witnessed the scene:—"Being at Brighton, and going rather earlier than usual to visit his stables, the prince inquired of a groom, 'Where is Tom Cross? Is he unwell? I have missed him for some days.' 'Please your royal highness,' answered the groom, hesitatingly, 'I believe—for—Mr.—can inform your royal highness.' 'I desire to know, sir, of you. What has he done?' 'I believe—your royal highness—something—not—quite correct. Something about the oats.' 'Where is Mr.————-? Send him to me immediately.' The prince seemed much disturbed at what he had heard, as the youth for whom he inquired was the son of an old, faithful groom, who had died in his service. When the officer of the stable appeared, his royal highness inquired, 'Where is Tom Cross? What has become of him?' 'I do not know, your royal highness.' 'What has he been doing?' 'Purloining the oats, your royal highness, and I discharged him.' 'What, sir? Send him away without acquainting me!—not know whither he has gone!—a fatherless boy, driven into the world from my service, with a blighted character! Why, the poor fellow will be destroyed. Mr.————, I did not expect this from you! Seek him out, sir, and let me not see you until you have discovered him.' Before many days Tom was found and brought before his royal master. He hung his head, and the tears rolled down his cheeks. The prince looked at him for a moment or two, and then said: 'Tom, Tom, what have you been doing? Happy it is for your poor father that he is gone; it would have broken his heart to see you in such a situation. I hope this is your first offence!' The youth was so overcome with shame and remorse that he wept bitterly. 'Ah, Tom, I am glad to see that you are penitent,' continued the prince; 'your father was an honest man; I had a great regard for him; so I should have for you, if you were a good lad, for his sake. Now, if I desire Mr.————to take you into the stable again, do you think I may trust you?' Tom fell on his knees, implored forgiveness, and promised to reform. 'Well, then, you shall be restored,' said the prince. 'Avoid evil company; go and recover your character; be diligent; be honest, and make me your friend; and—hark ye, Tom—I will take care that no one shall ever taunt you with what is past!'"
It was by such gracious acts that the Prince of Wales won the gratitude and admiration of his inferiors. "Do as I say, but not as I do," ought to have been his motto, for he could advise others so much better than he could act for himself.
It is always interesting to know what people look like; so here is a picture of the Prince of Wales as he appeared at the age of forty-two: "A merry, good-humored man, tall, though somewhat portly in stature, in the prime of life, with laughing eyes, pouting lips, and nose which very slightly turned up and gave a peculiar poignancy to the expression of his face. He wore a well-powdered wig, adorned with a profusion of curls, and a very large pigtail appended thereto. His clothes fitted him like a glove; his coat wras single-breasted and buttoned up to the chin. His nether garments were leather pantaloons and Hessian boots. Around his throat was a huge, white neck-cloth of many folds, out of which his chin seemed to be always struggling to emerge."
[A.D. 1806.] Here was an exterior that may have been very attractive to those who did not know the Prince of Wales for the lazy, vain, frivolous, weak, dissipated creature that he was; always plunging himself into some awkward embarrassment by thoughtlessly taking action where his feelings were aroused. And thus, with a decided hatred for his injured wife, he chose to pervert every indiscreet or thoughtless speech or action of hers into the appearance of
