When George III. and the sun of prosperity shone upon the tradesfolk of Weymouth the spirit of pecuniary gain soon became rampant. The inflated prices which so roused poor old Uncle Bengy even staggered Queen Charlotte, and "Peter Pindar" (Dr John Wolcot) criticised her household thriftiness in bringing stores and provisions from Windsor:
"Bread, cheese, salt, catchup, vinegar and mustard,
Small beer and bacon, apple pie and custard;
All, all from Windsor, greets his frugal Grace,
For Weymouth is a d——d expensive place."
Sandsfoot Castle, built by Henry VIII., on the southern shore of the spit of land called the Nothe, Weymouth Bay, is now a mere pile of corroded stone. It was built as a fort when England feared an invasion prompted by the Pope. The old pile plays a prominent part in Hardy's The Well-Beloved. The statue of King George, which is such an object of ridicule to the writers of guide-books, was the meeting-place of Fancy Day and Dick Dewy in Under the Greenwood Tree.
The "Budmouth" localities mentioned in The Trumpet Major are: the Quay; Theatre Royal; Barracks; Gloucester Lodge; and the Old Rooms Inn in Love Row, once a highly fashionable resort which was used for dances and other entertainments by the ladies and gentlemen who formed the Court of George III. It was also the spot where the battle of Trafalgar was discussed in The Dynasts. However, the old assembly rooms and the theatre have now vanished. Mention of Hardy's tremendous drama reminds me that it is rarely quoted in topographical works on Dorset, and yet it is full of the spirit and atmosphere of Wessex. Thus in a few words he tells us what "Boney" seemed like to the rustics of Dorset:
"Woman (in undertones). I can tell you a word or two on't. It is about His victuals. They say that He lives upon human flesh, and has rashers o' baby every morning for breakfast—for all the world like the Cernel Giant in old ancient times!
"Second Old Man. I only believe half. And I only own—such is my challengeful character—that perhaps He do eat pagan infants when He's in the desert. But not Christian ones at home. Oh no—'tis too much!
"Woman. Whether or no, I sometimes—God forgi'e me!—laugh wi' horror at the queerness o't, till I am that weak I can hardly go round house. He should have the washing of 'em a few times; I warrent 'a wouldn't want to eat babies any more!"