His Royal Highness replied:—
Gentlemen,
Accept my best thanks for this Address. Be assured that I feel a lively interest in the prosperity of this place, and shall ever promote its welfare as far as lies in my power.
George, Prince.
It has hitherto, in general, passed current, that the predilection of the Prince of Wales for Brighton arose from the combination of the extent of the marine view which the town commanded, the salubrity of the place, and the great superiority of its sea-bathing; in confirmation of which last attraction prints are extant representing, of life size, Martha Gunn, the bather, bearing in her arms a naked “four-year old” baby, purporting to represent the youthful form of His Royal Highness, about to undergo the process of dipping; whereas it is well known that he had attained the age of a score of years before he first visited Brighton. The portrait of Martha no doubt is correct, but the infant in her arms is but an adjunct to distinguish her from the fish women, whose costume at that period was similar to the female bather. The Royal Bathing Machine, which for some years was so conspicuous on the beach at the bottom of the Steine, was that used by the Prince when he bathed under the guidance of Smoaker Miles, at the bottom of Russell street. It finished its days at the Steine, whither it was removed for the transit of His Royal Highness along the sand, at low-water, to the boat that conveyed him to and from the Royal yacht, which, during the temporary abode of the Prince in Brighton, was usually stationed, with a convoy of two ships of war, off Brighton, at the moorings, which were laid down and marked by buoys about six miles from the shore. The Royal machine was retained at the Steine, amongst the ladies’ bathing machines, as it was much in request by the gentler sex, who were always anxious to occupy the machine from whence the Prince had taken a “header,” or travelled to his yacht.
Much, in the way of anecdote, has been transmitted to us orally, respecting Martha Gunn, especially in reference to the Prince and the Pavilion; but, besides being a bather little of her life is known. In a rare work, “A Donkey Tour to Brighton,” [264] occurs the following:—“‘What, my old friend, Martha,’ said I, ‘still queen of the ocean, still industrious, and busy as ever; and how do you find yourself?’—‘Well and hearty, thank God, Sir,’ replied she, ‘but rather hobbling. I don’t bathe, because I a’nt so strong as I used to be, so I superintend on the beach, for I’m up before any of ’em; you may always find me and my pitcher, at one exact spot, every morning by six o’clock.’—‘You wear vastly well, my old friend, pray what age may you be?’—‘Only eighty-eight, Sir; in fact, eighty-nine come next Christmas pudding; aye, and though I’ve lost my teeth, I can mumble it with as good relish and hearty appetite as anybody.’—‘I’m glad to hear it; Brighton would not look like itself without you, Martha,’ said I.—‘Oh, I don’t know, it’s like to do without me, some day,’ answered she, ‘but while I’ve health and life, I must be bustling amongst my old friends and benefactors; I think I ought to be proud, for I’ve as many bows from man, woman, and child, as the Prince hisself; aye, I do believe, the very dogs in the town know me.’—‘And your son, how is he?’ said I.—‘Brave and charming, he lives in East Street; if your honour wants any prime pickled salmon, or oysters, there you have ’em.’—I promised her I’d be a customer; she made me a low curtsey, and I left her hobbling to the side of the London coach, to deliver cards from the repository of her poor withered, sea-freckled bosom; for, like a woman of fashion, her bosom was her pocket.”
The Prince of Wales had an unbounded propensity for gallantry, and his companions of broken fortunes about him ingratiated themselves in his favour by pandering to his evil propensities. The Pavilion of Brighton, therefore, being secluded, was chosen as his favourite resort, whereto were brought the mistresses of his passions; and such a notoriety did the building attain that it was commonly spoken of as “the residence having at one end a harem, and at the other a chapel.” An incident of one of his early visits to Brighton will exhibit his irresistance of temptation. His Royal Highness, while walking on the beach, was struck with the beauty of a nymph who was reclining by one of the groynes. Her name was Charlotte Fortescue, an illiterate female, who counteracted her defective educational qualifications by artifice and intrigue, and by her art she threw such an air of simplicity and innocence over her actions as to hide the real nature of her character from the Prince, whose exalted position she soon discovered. Again and again he met her; and believed that he had gained her confidence. Tears suffused her cheeks as she spoke of a marriage to which she was about to be forced, that would take her from her native country. The Prince eventually proposed an elopement, and in order to give a romantic air to the affair, it was arranged that the dress of a footman was to be procured for his frail fugitive, and that His Royal Highness that evening should have his phæton in waiting a few miles on the London Road, to bear away his prize. However, while the Prince was dressing for dinner, Colonel Hanger, who had just commenced his life of profligacy, was announced. At dinner the Prince excused himself upon having to leave them early, as he had most important business to transact that night in the metropolis. Hanger spoke of having left there that morning in search of a girl for whom he had provided private apartments in London, and remarked, “The hussy takes it into her head every now and then to absent herself for a few days; and I have now been given to understand that she is carrying on some intrigue with a fellow at this place. Let me but catch him, and I will souse him over head and ears in the sea.” A little explanation sufficed to convince them both that the runaway was none other than the female with whom the Prince was so smitten, and it was arranged, in order to outwit her, that Hanger should put on one of the coats in which she had been occasioned to see her Royal lover, and take his seat on the coach-box, instead of the Prince. That night Hanger bore off his mistress to London, much to her chagrin that the romantic elopement should have such an unexpected termination, as the manner in which His Royal Highness travelled, one horse before the others, the first ridden by a postilion, and himself managing the other two, prevented a recognition till the female footman descended from the “dicky,” in London. The imposition terminated their intimacy.
To detail the numerous acts of gallantry of the Prince and his associates would in nowise add to the improvement and enlightenment of the present age; nor is it necessary to give a biographical sketch or even a list of all his companions. His connexion, however, with Mrs. Fitzherbert [266] demands some mention to be made of that excellent lady who received the most cordial kindness and formal honours from the first families of distinction in the land. The Royal Marriage Act, which passed soon after the commencement of the reign of George III., in consequence of the marriage of the Duke of Cumberland with Mrs. Horton, and the Duke of Gloucester with the Countess of Waldegrave, declared that the descendants of George II., except the offspring of such of the Princes, as were married to, or might marry foreign Princesses, were incapable of marrying till the age of five-and-twenty years, without His Majesty’s consent previously obtained; or after the age of five-and-twenty, in the event of His Majesty’s refusal, without the consent of both Houses of Parliament. The marriage, then, between the Prince of Wales and Mrs. Fitzherbert, which Horne Tooke declared did take place, inasmuch as he was acquainted with the English clergyman who performed the solemn ceremony on the 21st of December, 1785, was null and void. Mr. Fox, in the House of Commons, denied that there had been marriage; but his denial was an act of expediency, as, according to the Act of William III., the admitted marriage of the Prince of Wales would have prevented his taking upon himself the Regency of the country, as the people, from his having married a Papist, would have been absolved from their allegiance. Amongst the real friends of the Prince his connexion with Mrs. Fitzherbert was an event of much gratification; for irregular as might have been its nature, it preserved him from the vulgar propensities to which he had been previously prone. Dowers and legacies of two previous marriages qualified her to command all the elegancies of fashionable life, and to perform many noble acts of charity. A separation only took place in 1795, when the Prince was about to marry (for the payment of his debts), the unfortunate Caroline of Brunswick. In such high esteem was she held by the Royal Family that upon William the IV. ascending the throne, he, with his Royal Consort, Queen Adelaide, paid her numerous visits of courtesy. The remains of Mrs. Fitzherbert, upon her decease, 27th March, 1837, were deposited in a vault beneath the Roman Catholic Church, St. George’s Road, where a handsome marble monument, by Carew, has been erected to her memory. Her age was eighty-one.
Some romantic notion gave forth the rumour that a subterranean communication existed between the Royal Pavilion and Mrs Fitzherbert’s house, on the Steine. A greater fallacy never gained credence. All that she possessed, connected in any way with the estate, were the stables in the New Road, immediately north of the row of trees which bounds the Pavilion Grounds on the east. These stables—erected in 1806—are now used as the chief depôt of the Borough Fire Brigade, under Inspector Quartermain. They were immediately contiguous to the Burial Ground of the Society of Friends,—now the Corporation premises for depositing the Town Surveyor’s materials,—and for a window in the stables that overlooked the ground Mrs. Fitzherbert paid one penny per month, as will appear by the following minute of the Committee of Friends:—
Brighton, 13th of 11th month, 1806.
Committee for the management and disposal of Lands at Brighton belonging to the quarterly meeting of Friends of Sussex.
This committee having taken into consideration the request of Maria Fitzherbert for permission to continue the window in the north side of her stables which looks into the premises belonging to Friends,
This committee, unwilling to pursue a conduct which may assume the appearance of acting otherwise than neighbourly (notwithstanding injury may arise to the said premises by complying with such request), consents to the window not being stopped up for the present, upon condition of Maria Fitzherbert’s agreeing to pay one penny per month for such permission, and also undertaking to brick-up the same, at any time within one week after notice for that purpose from any of the trustees or committee for the said premises, and in default thereof that any of the Friends be authorized to brick-up the said window at the expense of the said Maria Fitzherbert, and that such agreement be prepared, signed and delivered to the said committee within two weeks from the date hereof, otherwise the foregoing proposals to be void.
William Tuppen is requested to take a copy of the above minute to Maria Fitzherbert, and obtain her sentiments thereon, and report the same to this committee.
Signed in and on behalf of the committee,
Jno. Glaisyer.
A subterranean passage is in existence from the Pavilion to the Stables, and was the medium by which, in disguise, the Prince and his friends went to and returned—comparatively in private—from their nocturnal rambles. Its immediate connexion with the royal suite of rooms was by means of a trap in the floor of one of the apartments, beneath which was an intricate staircase that gave him a means of ready exit; as, besides using it on occasions of fun and frolic, his constant fear of attempts upon his life from political motives,—as on the occasion of his being shot at with an air-gun, on his return from opening Parliament in 1817,—or in consequence of his numerous amorous peccadillos, rendered a means of escape desirable, and he was enabled also, in case of emergency, to attain with great facility the various galleries that ramified the roofs of the building.
The New Road—previously the garden of Mr Furner, the Prince’s gardener,—was formed in 1805, by privates of the Royal Artillery; and on Monday, August 12th,—the anniversary of the birth-day of the Prince of Wales,—His Royal Highness gave the men employed on the work a guinea each. In 1807, there was a west entrance to the Pavilion Grounds, directly opposite the Theatre. On the 14th of August, that year, it happened that the Prince, purposing going out that way in the evening, found the gate shut and locked. His Royal Highness called out to his attendants to break the gate open,—an order which they attempted to obey, but found themselves unequal to the task. The Prince smiling, desired them to stand aside, as he had no doubt but his strength was sufficient to force the place, though their’s had failed. In an instant he wrenched the gate from its hinges, and with his party passed on to the Theatre.