"Should wedded beauty Glo'ster's choice approve,
And honour kindle at the call of Love,
Oh! let forgiveness ne'er abuse the throne,
Unmov'd, and sullen, hear a brother groan!
Gomorrah's crime alone shall pardon find,
Or Blood's offence, for blood.
Should a mad brother in the June of life
Debauch a virgin or seduce a wife,
Risk his good name on Whistle-jacket's speed,
Or run the race of Folly, and succeed;
That brother to the royal bosom take,
And love the offender for;
But should that brother wisdom's voice obey,
And Hymen's torch to virtue light the way;
That brother from the royal bosom thrust,
Disgrace his honest offspring, and be just
Thus shall the genuine German line succeed,
And the same lead run sterling through the breed."[142]
As soon as an intimation of the Royal Marriage Act reached the Duke of Gloucester, he informed the King of his marriage, and further acquainted him with an impending interesting event at which he desired the great officers of state should attend. The news was a great blow to George, who at first took no notice of his brother's communication; but upon receipt of a second letter deigned to state that after the birth of a child he would send and have "the marriage, as well as the birth enquired into, in order that both may be authenticated." This was most unsatisfactory to the Duke and his wife, and the former, to the general astonishment, rose to the occasion, and sent a dignified reply, in which he demanded an immediate inquiry, otherwise he would state his case in person in the House of Lords. The threat produced the desired result, inquiries were made, and as the marriage was informal, though not actually illegal, it was only after the Duke's avowed intention to go through the ceremony again that the King accepted the marriage. His consent was given on May 27, and two days later a child was born.[143]
Though the King could not refuse to recognize the marriage of his brothers, he could and did decline to receive the parties to them, and for some years the two Dukes and their wives were in disgrace. The Duke and Duchess of Gloucester bore their exile with equanimity, for the Duke was passionately fond of travelling and perhaps never so happy as when roaming over the continent.
He was the King's favourite brother,[144] and was eventually received into favour, when the King could not well refrain from pardoning the other transgressor. "You have heard, I suppose, of the conduct of the two duchesses about their husbands' reconciliation with the King," Lady Sarah Bunbury wrote to Lady Susan O'Brien, in the summer of 1780. "The Duchess of Cumberland sent her husband to Court, and said that she would be no hindrance to his going, 'that her house was her palace, and her husband her guard, and she wanted no others.' Voyez un peu comme elle s'y prend bien pour arriver à sa fin. The Duke of Gloucester goes only in private, but yet the King is so fond of him, he seems to approve of everything he does, so that it's hard to tell who is in the right, but I would bet my money on the head of a Luttrell being in the right road to preferment, and it's no bad sign of it when a Luttrell adopts les beaux sentiments and is scrupulous of family duties among relations, for it is not in that line they have hitherto shone."
The Duke of Gloucester was no more able than his brothers to be faithful to one woman, and he soon devoted himself to Lady Almeria Carpenter, when his wife, a high-spirited woman, for whom he had fought so well, demanded, and in 1787 obtained, an informal separation. The Duke was, indeed, scarcely worth securing except for his title, for he was almost entirely destitute of intelligence, as two anecdotes related by Walpole prove. On one occasion he came into a room where his wife was sitting to Reynolds, of whom he took no notice until the Duchess whispered to him to address the painter. "So," said he, willing to be agreeable, "so you always begin with the head, do you?" This was only to be equalled by his remark to Gibbon: "What, scribble, scribble, scribble?" Feeble in health, the Duke's life was frequently despaired of, but he survived until 1803. "We are in hourly expectation of the news of the poor Duke of Gloucester's death," the Queen wrote to Lady Harcourt on August 29, 1803. "His sufferings must have been dreadfully painful; but his good temper and cheerfulness never left him. I understand that he was not quite open with his physician, and that some complaint he kept a secret for three days, to which the medicines which they administered were fatal. How unfortunate to deceive oneself, and much more when one wishes to deceive others. This the King is not to know; but the physicians stand justified to the world.... The poor Duke has left a will, and desires to be buried at Windsor; which is granted. He left the Duchess sole executrix; but with a proviso to pay his debts, which the world says are very few."
The reconciliation of the Duke of Cumberland with the King was hollow indeed, for these brothers had nothing in common, and the monarch hated his sister-in-law. "The King held her [the Duchess] in great alienation, because he believed she lent herself to facilitate or to gratify the Prince of Wales's inclinations on some points beyond the limits of propriety—Carlton House and Cumberland House communicating behind by the gardens."[145] The reasons for George III's dislike were well-founded, and, in addition, the Duke committed the unpardonable sin in allying himself with the Opposition, and was further the prime factor in inducing his nephew, the Prince of Wales, to set himself against the Court. During the American troubles in 1775, ministerial Earl told the Duke that his Majesty hoped his brother would support the measures of the Government. "God forbid," said his Royal Highness, "that a prince of the House of Hanover should violate those rights in America, which they were raised to the throne of England for asserting," and he voted in favour of Chatham's plan of conciliation. That fine speech stands alone in the records of his libertine career.
The King's eldest sister, Princess Augusta, was, according to Horace Walpole, "not handsome, but tall enough and not ill-made, with the German whiteness of hair and complexion, so remarkable in the royal family, and with their precipitate yet thick Westphalian accent."[146] At an early age she interested herself in politics, and soon showed a desire to meddle in matters of state, which desire was particularly annoying to her mother, for, unlike the Princess Dowager, she was attached to Pitt and with the Duke of York "inveighed openly and boldly against the policy of the Court." Such a firebrand was an active danger in the royal family, and it was feared lest she might infect her brothers and sisters and even the young Queen with her obnoxious opinions. It was, therefore, thought advisable to remove her from England, and this was achieved by marrying her in 1764 to Charles William Ferdinand, Hereditary-Prince of Brunswick Wolfenbüttel.
| From a portrait by Sir Joshua Reynolds | Portrait by Cotes |
| AUGUSTA, DUCHESS OF BRUNSWICK | CAROLINA MATILDA, QUEEN OF DENMARK |
The bridegroom of the Princess Royal was treated by the Court with great coldness, for it was known that he had been discussing English politics with more freedom than discretion: all the ceremonials not absolutely essential were omitted, the servants were not given the customary new liveries for the marriage, and though Charles was perforce lodged at Somerset House, no sentinel was placed at the door of his apartment. Indeed had he been an uninvited guest his reception could not have been more marked by stinging slights. The Prince, a high-spirited, not overwise young man of nine-and-twenty, was very angry at the treatment accorded him by the family of his bride, and since the Court ignored him so far as possible, he accepted the attentions of the leaders of the Opposition, dined with the Duke of Cumberland and the Duke of Newcastle, and visited Pitt at Hayes.
Very different was the conduct of the public, which was delighted to welcome the gallant young soldier, who had distinguished himself in war under Frederick the Great, and cheered him to the echo whenever he appeared in public. One day, he kissed his hand to a soldier of Elliot's Light Horse, who was at once surrounded by a crowd, and asked if he knew the Prince. "Yes," said the man, "he once led me into a scrape, which nobody but himself could have brought me out of again." "You may guess," wrote Walpole, "how much this added to the Prince's popularity, which was at high-water mark before." The Prince had arrived in England on January 12, and was married on the 16th. Two days later the whole royal family went to Covent Garden Theatre, and the public took this occasion to show their opinion of the manner in which the visitor had been received. The King and Queen took their seats in a profound silence, and deafening cheers greeted the appearance of the bridal pair. "The shouts, claps, and huzzas were immoderate," Walpole informed Sir Horace Mann. "He sat behind his Princess and her brothers. The galleries called him to come forward. In the middle of the play he went to be elected a member of the Royal Society, and returned to the theatre when the applause was renewed."