A Georgian Pageant

by Frank Frankfort Moore

The letters are written to Mrs. Mangles, the widow of the Chaplain to George III, and the majority touch upon private matters with sprightliness, and occasionally a delicate humour, such as Goldsmith would certainly have appreciated. We seem to hear, while reading these passages, faint echoes of the girlish laughter which must have rung through that room in the inn at Calais, when Goldsmith paced up and down in a mock fury because two officers passing the window looked more eagerly at the girls than at him.

It is obvious, however, that the Queen's Woman of the Bedchamber would write occasionally to her friend on some topic of public interest; consequently we find, in the course of the correspondence, many passages which throw a flood of light upon the incidents of the day. In a letter dated April 10th, 1818,

Mrs. Gwyn describes with great sprightliness the wedding of the Princess Elizabeth, the third daughter of George III, with Prince Hesse-Hombourgh, which took place three days before:

“I delayed to write till after the marriage to tell you about it, as you seemed to wish it. We were all appointed at seven o'clock in the evening, when I went as smart as I could make myself. I wore the lavender sattin robe, the same you saw me wear at Court, as the shape was the same, and it saved buying, trimmed with silver, a new white sattin petticoat, with a white net and silver over it, no hoop, but a Court head dress, and lappets down. The Company consisting of the great officers of state, and ambassadors and their wives, and the different households were the Company.

“At 8 all were assembled when the Royal family in procession according to their rank, went into the great drawing-room in the Queen's house. The Duke of York led the Queen, the Prince Regent not being quite recovered of his gout, and it is said the remembrance of his poor daughter's marriage was too painful to him to undertake it. Before the state canopy was set a fine communion table, red velvet and gold, all the gold plate belonging to that service arranged behind it, and 3 Bishops and other clergymen standing behind the table, it looked very magnificent. Then came the Hero, the Prince Hesse Hombourgh, he went up to the table and stood there, I believe 10 minutes alone, he looked well a manly unembarassed figure, then walked in the Bride glittering with silver and diamonds, and really looked very handsome, and her behaviour and manner was as well as possible, grace and quiet, when she knelt she wept, and then he approached nearer her in case her emotion would require his care, which happily was not the case. The Duke of York gave her away, and behaved very bad. The Prince Hombourgh thought when he had said I will very loud and distinct, all was done, but the Arch Bishop desired him to repeat after him, which he was therefore obliged to do. He cannot speak English and made such works of it, it was then the Duke of York laughed so, he was obliged to stuff his handkerchief in his mouth to conceal it. He promised to love her. When all was over he saluted his bride on each side the face, and then her hand, with a good-natured frank manner, then led her to the Queen, whose hand only he kissed, the rest of the Royal family he embraced after his own fashion, and he led her off with a very good air, and did not seem to trouble his head about his English performance.” The Princess Elizabeth—the shy young bride who was so overcome with emotion—had scarcely more than passed her forty-ninth year when she was borne to the altar, and the hero of the hour was, we learn from other sources than Mrs. Gwyn's letters, most unheroically sick when driving away in a close carriage with his bride.

The Prince Regent's daughter, the Princess Charlotte, had died the previous year, hence the marrying panic which seized all the other members of the Royal Family, lest the dynasty should become extinct. It is pleasing to reflect that such gloomy apprehensions have since been amply averted.

Regarding the death of the Princess Charlotte Mrs. Gwyn writes:

“... While I was at Oatlands the Prince Leopold came to see the Duchess and staid there 3 hours, no one but the Duchess saw him—she told me he is more composed in his manners now when seen by people in general but with her alone his grief seems the same and he is gratified by being allowed to vent it to one who feels for him and knows how to soothe his mind. I can not doubt the Princess's life and his child's were thrown away, by mismanagement—she was so bled and starved she had no strength left—her own fortitude and energy supported her till nature could no more. I could tell you much on the subject but it would take up too much in a letter and besides it is over. Dr. Crofts thought he was doing for the best no doubt—It comes to what I always say of them—they can't do much and are very often wrong in their opinions as you can vouch....”

In another letter Mrs. Gywn's adopted daughter was her amanuensis. It contains many paragraphs of interest, especially to present-day readers. The girl writes:

“Mamma was of course summoned to attend the Duke of Cambridge's Wedding, but she was not in the room when the Ceremony was performed as before, on account of the Queen having been ill. Mamma admires the Duchess of Cambridge very much: though she is not exactly handsome, she is very pleasing, and a pretty figure, but I understand she must have a new stay maker to set her up etc. The Duke of Kent and his bride are now expected. The Duke of Clarence it is expected will be married shortly afterwards. We hear the Duchess of Kent is a little woman with a handsome face, and the Duchess of Clarence uncommonly ugly. We went to Windsor about a month ago to see Princess Sophia as the Queen was not there, and Princess Sophia has a small party every night. We were there three days, and Mamma went to the party every evening, and indeed it was very very dull for her as they play one pool of Commerce, and then they go to a game called Snip, Snap, Snorum, and which Mamma could not play at well without a great deal of trouble to herself, therefore she was obliged to look on for perhaps an hour and half which you may imagine was terrible for her not hearing a word. I was much pleased in one respect while I was there by seeing Dear Prince Leopold whom I had never seen before, and who must be to every body an object of so much interest. He looked to me the picture of grief and melancholy, but those who have seen him repeatedly since his misfortune say he improves every time they see him. Mrs. C.... went one day to see Claremont and was very much pleased. All remains as Princess Charlotte left it, but nobody sees her room in which she died but himself, even her combs and brushes are untouched, and her hat and cloak are where she laid them the day before she died. There are models of her hand and arm one in particular as it is his hand clasped in hers. I suppose you have often heard she had a very beautiful hand and arm, but I will not go on, on so melancholy a subject; yet I am sure it must interest you.”