CHAPTER XXI
THE KING'S MALADY
Throughout his life George had persevered in a course of systematic abstinence and regular exercise, and he had endeavoured to strengthen an apparently sound and vigorous body by outdoor pursuits. He rose early both in winter and summer, never remained at any entertainment later than midnight, and usually went to bed before that hour. Corpulence was the bane of his family, and, perturbed at the thought that he might suffer from it, he discussed the question with his uncle, William of Cumberland, whose stoutness was notorious. "It is constitutional," said the latter, "and I am much mistaken if your Majesty will not become as large as myself, before you attain to my age." "Perhaps," suggested George, "it arises from your not using sufficient exercise?" "I use, nevertheless, constant and severe exercise of every kind," his uncle assured him. "But there is another effort requisite, in order to repress this tendency, which is much more difficult to practise; and without which, no exercise, however violent, will suffice. I mean, great renunciation and temperance. Nothing else can prevent your Majesty from growing to my size."[231] Always inclined to moderation in food and drink, after this conversation the temperance of George's life became almost proverbial. "It is a fact," says Wraxall, "that during many years of his life, after coming up from Kew, or from Windsor, often on horseback, and sometimes in heavy rain, to the Queen's House; he has gone in a Chair to St. James's, dressed himself, held a levée, passed through all the forms of that long and tedious ceremony, for such it was in the way that he performed it; without leaving any individual in the Circle unnoticed: and has afterwards assisted at a Privy Council, or given audience to his Cabinet Ministers and others, till five and even sometimes till six o'clock. After so much fatigue of body and of mind, the only refreshment or sustenance that he usually took consisted in a few slices of bread and butter and a dish of tea, which he sometimes swallowed as he walked up and down, previous to getting into his carriage, in order to return into the country."[232] It is probable, however, that his complaint was increased by his extreme abstemiousness, and his rigid morality, for, as Lord Carlisle has stated, "the family disorder introduced by his mother required high living and strong wines. The French call it, 'les humeurs froids.'"[233]
From a caricature by Gear, 1788
GEORGE III
Although wine was recommended to him to assist digestion, he declined to believe in its efficacy;[234] and it is amusing to read that he desired the members of his suite to be as abstemious as himself. Miss Burney has narrated a story of that quaint wag, Colonel Goldsworthy, who, after his return from hunting with the King, damp, muddy, and tired, was called by the King. "'Sir,' said I, smiling agreeably, with the rheumatism just creeping all over! but still, expecting something a little comfortable, I wait patiently to know his gracious pleasure, and then, 'Here, Goldsworthy, I say,' he cries, 'will you have a little barley water?' Barley water in such a plight as that! Fine compensation for a wet jacket, truly!—barley water! I never heard of such a thing in my life! barley water after a day's hard hunting." "And did you drink it?" Miss Burney asked. "And did the King drink it himself?" "Yes, God bless his Majesty!" replied the equerry, "but I was too humble a subject to do the same as my King."[235]
Wraxall and many other contemporaries have stated that the King enjoyed almost perfect health until 1788, but this only shows with what success the truth was hidden, for, as we have seen, he was seriously ill in 1762, and in danger of losing his life and reason three years later; while in 1766 his health temporarily gave way under the mental excitement occasioned by affairs of state,[236] and, a little known chronicler states, in 1782 he was again "extremely indisposed".[237]
The mental derangement of 1788 is usually stated to have been first discerned in the autumn, but as a matter of fact the symptoms were obvious much earlier in the year, although it was then declared the King was suffering only from a bilious disorder. In the spring Sir George Baker attended him, and gave it as his opinion that the bile did not flow properly; but the patient declined to take medicine, and, as Mrs. Papendiek states, "he was up and down in his condition—better or worse, but did not rally." At Easter, Dr. Heberden was called in, and, considering the case alarming, invited Dr. Munro to consult with him. "The great desire," according to Mrs. Papendiek, "was to keep the circumstance secret as much as possible from the public, to hasten the session, and direct their hopes to the ease of summer business, to change of air, and other restorations. The King was aware of the probability of his malady, but was unconscious of its having already having made great strides. Dr. Munro retired and was not again called in."[238]