CHAPTER III.
ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS.
Scenes, and personal sketches of Queen Charlotte—Her fondness for diamonds—Visit to Mrs. Garrick—Orphan establishment at Bedford founded by the Queen—Her benevolence on the breaking of the Windsor bank—Marriage of Princess Caroline Matilda—Unfounded rumours about the Queen—Hannah Lightfoot—The King’s illness—A regency recommended by the King—Discussions relative to it—Birth of Prince Frederick—Failing health of the Duke of Cumberland.
In 1761 not a more gorgeously attired queen, in presence of the public, was to be found than ours. But we learn that, in 1762, the first thing of which the Queen got positively weary was her jewels. At first, seeing herself endowed with them, her joy was girlish, natural, and unfeigned. But the gladness was soon over. It was the ecstacy of a week, as she herself said a quarter of a century later; and there was indifference at the end of a fortnight. ‘I thought at first,’ said she, ‘I should always choose to wear them; but the fatigue, and trouble of putting them on, and the care they required, and the fear of losing them; why, believe me, madam, in a fortnight’s time I longed for my own earlier dress and wished never to see them more.’
This was said to Miss Burney, subsequently her dresser and reader, who adds that the Queen informed her that dress and shows had never been things she cared for, even in the bloom of her youth; and that neatness and comfort alone gave her pleasure in herself as in others. The Queen confessed that ‘the first week or fortnight of being a Queen, when only in her seventeenth year, she thought splendour sufficiently becoming her station to believe she should choose thenceforth constantly to support it. But it was not her mind,’ says Miss Burney, ‘but only her eyes that were dazzled, and therefore her delusion speedily vanished, and her understanding was too strong to give it any chance of returning.’
This is pretty, but it has the disadvantage of not being exactly true. The Queen may have been indifferent for a while to the wearing or the value of diamonds, but later in life, if she did nurse a cherished passion, it was for these glittering gewgaws. The popular voice, at least, accused her of this passion, and before many years elapsed it was commonly said that no money was so sure to buy her favour as a present of diamonds. That she could, however, condescend to very simple tasks is well known. This is illustrated by her visit to Mrs. Garrick, at Hampton. The Queen found the ex-actress engaged in peeling onions, and Charlotte sat down, and, by helping her in her employment, saved her from the annoyance of being ashamed of it.
In 1763 the country hailed the advent of peace and the retirement of Lord Bute from office. The Queen’s popularity was greater than that of the King, and even men of extremely liberal politics greeted her ‘mild and tender virtues.’ She now encouraged trade by her splendid fêtes, and was one of those persons who, by enjoying festive grandeurs calmly, acquire a reputation for calmly despising them. In August 1763 she became the mother of a second prince, Frederick, afterwards Duke of York.
One of the first acts of the Queen, this same year, was a graceful act of benevolence. The young mother had thought and a heart for young orphans—of gentility. For parentless children of gentle blood she established a home in Bedfordshire. At the head of the house was placed a lady who, with many comforts, enjoyed the liberal salary of 500l. per annum. In return for this she superintended the instruction of the young ladies (who were not admitted till they had attained the age of fifteen—age of folly and of fermentation, as some one has called it) in embroidery. The first produce of their taste and toil was the property of their patroness, the young Queen, and was converted into ornaments for window curtains, chairs, sofas, and bed furniture for Windsor Castle and the ‘Queen’s House’ in St. James’s Park.
This was, perhaps, rather a calculating benevolence; but the Queen paid 500l. a year for fifty years for it, and her Majesty was not wanting in true charity. In a later period of her reign the middle classes of Windsor were thrown into much misery by the breaking of the bank there. Many individuals of the class alluded to held the 1l. notes of this bank; and the paper had now no more value than as paper. The Queen, on hearing the case, ordered her treasurer to give cash for these notes on their being presented, and this was done to the extent of 400l. Her daughters acted as clerks, and never was there so hilarious a run upon the bank as on this royal house at Windsor.
The year 1765 opened in some sense auspiciously—with a royal marriage. Caroline Matilda was the posthumous daughter of Frederick, Prince of Wales, and was born in July 1751. The terms of her marriage with Christian, Crown Prince of Denmark, were settled in January of this year; but, on account of the extreme youth of the contracting parties, they were not carried into effect until two years had elapsed. Meanwhile, the young bride, who had been remarkable for her beauty, grace, and elegance—and above all for her vivacity—seemed almost to fade away, so nervously anxious did she become as to the obligation by which she was bound and its possible results. Before the espousals were completed her affianced husband had become King of Denmark, and when Queen Charlotte congratulated her sister-in-law she little thought of the hard fate that was to follow upon the ceremony. As for the following year, it was a time of much anxiety and distress, and the people were scarcely good-humoured enough in 1765 to welcome the birth of a third prince, in the person of William Henry, afterwards Duke of Clarence.
The reports circulated at this time, to the effect that the Queen interfered in state affairs, were discredited by those who certainly did not lack the means of getting at the truth. The rumour appears to have been believed by Mr. Stanhope; but Lord Chesterfield, in writing to his son, and noticing his belief in the good foundation of such a rumour, says: ‘You seem not to know the character of the Queen; here it is. She is a good woman, a good wife, a tender mother, and an unmeddling queen. The King loves her as a woman, but I verily believe has never yet spoken one word to her about business.’