The origin of the piece was certainly not political. It was a mere Newgate pastoral put into an operatic form, and intended to ridicule, what it succeeded in overthrowing for a season, the newly introduced Italian Opera. The piece had been refused by Cibber, and was accepted by Rich, who brought it out at Lincoln’s-Inn-Fields, on the 29th of January 1728, with such success, that it was said of it, that it made Gay rich, and Rich gay. Walker was the Macheath, and Miss Fenton, afterwards Duchess of Bolton, the Polly—a character in which she was not approached by either of her three immediate successors, Miss Warren, Miss Cantrell, or sweet Kitty Clive. Johnson says of the piece that it was plainly written only to divert—without any moral purpose, and therefore not likely to do good. This is the truth, no doubt; and if Gay put in a few strong passages just previous to representation, it was the public application which gave them double force. Perhaps the application would have been stronger if Quin had originally played, as was intended, the part of Macheath. To step from Macbeth to the highwayman might have had a political signification given to it; and indeed Quin did play, and sing, the captain one night for his benefit—-just as another great tragedian, Young, did, within our own recollection. However, never had piece such success. It was played at every theatre in the kingdom, and every audience was as keenly alive for passages which could be applied against the court and government as they were for mere ridicule against the Italian Opera.
Caroline herself was probably not opposed to the morale of the piece. Her own chairmen were suspected of being in league with highwaymen, and probably were; but on their being arrested and dismissed from her service by the master of her household, who suspected their guilt, she was indignant at the liberty taken and insisted on their being restored. She had no objection to be safely carried by suspected confederates of highwaymen.
The poverty of ‘Polly’ could not render it exempt from being made the scapegoat for the ‘Beggars’ Opera,’ in which Walpole, from whom Gay could not obtain a place, was said to be ‘shown-up,’ night after night, as a thief and the friend of thieves. The ‘Beggars’ Opera’ had a run before its satire was felt by him against whom it was chiefly directed. ‘Polly’ is very stupid and not satirical, but it was a favourite with the author. The latter, therefore, was especially annoyed at receiving an injunction from the lord chamberlain’s office, obtained at the request of Sir Robert, whereby the representation of ‘Polly’ was forbidden in every theatre. The poet determined to shame his enemies by printing the piece with a smart political supplement annexed.
Gay was the ‘spoiled child’ of the Duke and Duchess of Queensberry. They espoused his cause; and the duchess was especially active, urgent, and successful in procuring subscriptions—compelling them, by gentle violence, even from the most reluctant. This zeal for the vexed poet went so far that the duchess solicited subscriptions even in the Queen’s apartment and in the royal drawing-room. There was something pleasant in making even the courtiers subscribe towards the circulating of a piece which royalty, through its official, had prohibited from being acted. The zealous duchess was thus busy with three or four gentlemen, in one corner of the room, when the King came upon them and enquired the nature of her business. ‘It is a matter of humanity and charity,’ said her grace, ‘and I do not despair but that your Majesty will contribute to it.’ The Monarch disappointed Gay’s patroness in this respect, but he exhibited no symptom whatever of displeasure, and left her to her levying occupation. Subsequently, however, in the Queen’s apartment, the subject was talked over between the royal pair, and not till then did George perceive that the conduct of the duchess was so impertinent that it was necessary to forbid her appearing again, at least for the present, at court.
The King’s vice-chamberlain, Mr. Stanhope, was despatched with a verbal message to this effect. The manner and the matter equally enraged Gay’s patroness, and she delivered a note of acknowledgment to the vice-chamberlain, in which she stated that she was both surprised and gratified at the royal and agreeable command to stay away from court, seeing that she had never gone there but for her own diversion, and also from a desire of showing some civility to the King and Queen! The lively lady further intimated, that perhaps it was as well that they who dared to speak, or even think, truth, should be kept away from a court where it was unpalatable; although she had thought that in supporting truth and innocence in the palace, she was paying the very highest compliment possible to both their Majesties.
When the note was completed, the writer gave it to Mr. Stanhope to read. The stiff vice-chamberlain felt rather shocked at the tone, and politely advised the duchess to think better of the matter, and write another note. Her grace consented, but the second edition was so more highly spiced, and so more pungent than the first, that the officer preferred taking the latter, which he must have placed before King and Queen with a sort of decent horror, appropriate to a functionary of his polite vocation. The duchess lost the royal favour, and the duke, her husband, lost his posts.
After all, it seems singular, that while so stupid a piece as ‘Polly’ was prohibited, the representation of the ‘Beggars’ Opera’ still went on. The alleged offence was thus seemingly permitted, while visitation was made on an unoffending piece; and subscriptions for the printing of that piece were asked for, as we have seen, by the Duchess of Queensberry, in the very apartments of the Sovereign, who is said to have been most offended at the poet’s alleged presumption.
Other poets and the players advanced in the good will of Caroline and her house by producing pieces complimentary to the Brunswick family. Thus Rich, who had offended the royal family by getting up the ‘Beggars’ Opera,’ in January 1728, produced Mrs. Haywood’s tragedy of ‘Frederick, Duke of Brunswick-Lunenberg,’ in March 1729. The authoress dedicated her play to Frederick, Prince of Wales, and her object in writing it was to represent one of the ancestors of his royal highness as raised to the imperial throne in consequence of his virtues. It may be a question whether Caroline, or her husband, or son, could approve of a subject which exhibited the Brunswick monarch falling under the dagger of an assassin. However this may be, the public was indifferent to the piece and its object; and, after being represented three times, it disappeared for ever and left the stage to be again occupied by the ‘Beggars’ Opera:’ Peachum—Walpole, Lockit—Townshend, and Mat o’ the Mint, type of easy financiers, who gaily bid the public ‘stand and deliver!’
On the first occasion on which George I. left England to visit Hanover, he appointed the Prince of Wales regent of the kingdom during his absence. The prince, in spite of his limited powers—he was unable to act on the smallest point without the sanction of ministers—contrived to gain considerable and well-deserved popularity. George never again allowed him to hold the same honourable office; and the son and father hated each other ever after. In the May of this year, that son, now King, quitted England in order to visit the Electorate, but he did not appoint Frederick, Prince of Wales, as regent during his absence. He delegated that office to the Queen, and most probably by the Queen’s advice. Frederick had not been long in London before the opposition party made him, if not their chief, at least their rallying point. The prince hated his father heartily and openly, and he had as little regard for his mother. When application was made to parliament to pay some alleged deficiencies in the civil list, Frederick was particularly severe on the extravagance of his sire and the method adopted to remedy it. He talked loudly of what he would have done in a similar extremity, or rather of how he would never have allowed himself to fall into so extreme a difficulty. He was doubly in the wrong; ‘in the first place, for saying what he ought only to have thought; and, in the next, for not thinking what he ought not to have said.’ It was not likely, even if the King had been so disposed, that the Queen would have consented to an arrangement which would have materially diminished her own consequence. She was accordingly invested with the office of regent; and she performed its duties with a grace and an efficiency which caused universal congratulation that the post had not been confided to other, and necessarily weaker, hands. She had Sir Robert Walpole at her side to aid her with his counsel; and the presence of the baronet’s enemy, Lord Townshend, with the King had no effect in damaging the power effectively administered by Caroline and her great minister.
It was not merely during the absence of the King in Hanover that Caroline may be said to have ruled in England. The year 1730 affords us an illustration on this point.