The Ceremony of
the Champion of England giving
the Challenge at the Coronation
The coronation of George the First took place on October 20th, 1714, and was largely attended, it being remarked that no such a gathering of lords, spiritual and temporal, had been seen since the Conquest. As the ceremony marked the inauguration of a new line of kings, it was determined to celebrate it with unusual splendour. The Jacobites prayed for rain, but the day broke fine and cloudless. The King drove down to Westminster in a State coach early in the morning, and retired to the Court of Wards until the peers and Court officials were put in order by the heralds. They then came in long procession to Westminster Hall, where George the First received them seated under a canopy of state. The sword and spurs were presented to the King, the crown and other regalia, the Bible, chalice and paten, and were then delivered to the lords and bishops appointed to carry them. The procession to the Abbey was formed in order of precedence. The Prince of Wales followed the Lord Great Chamberlain, wearing his robes of crimson velvet, furred with ermine; his coronet and cap were borne before him on a crimson velvet cushion. No place was found in the procession for the Princess of Wales, but a chair was placed for her in the Abbey, under a canopy near the sacrarium. The King walked immediately after the officials bearing the regalia, in his royal robes of crimson velvet, lined with ermine, and bordered with gold lace, wearing the collar of St. George, and on his head the cap of estate of crimson velvet turned up with ermine and adorned with a circle of gold enriched with diamonds. He was supported on either side by the Bishops of Durham and Bath and Wells, and walked under a canopy borne by the Barons of the Cinque Ports. He was not a majestic figure despite the bravery of his attire.
When the King arrived at the Abbey, the Archbishop of Canterbury began the Coronation service with the Recognition. The King stood up in his chair, and showed himself to the people on every four sides, and the Archbishop went round the chair, calling out at each corner: “Sirs, I here present to you King George, the undoubted King of these realms. Wherefore all you who are come this day to do your homage, are you willing to do the same?” The people shouted, “God save King George,” and the trumpets sounded. Then his Majesty made his first oblation, and the lords who bore the regalia presented them at the altar, the Litany was sung, and the Communion service proceeded with as far as the Nicene Creed, when the Bishop of Oxford preached what can only be described as a fulsome sermon from the text: “This is the day which the Lord hath made; we will rejoice and be glad in it”. After the sermon the ceremonial proceeded. The King repeated and signed the declaration against Roman Catholicism, also made at their coronation by William and Mary, and by Anne, which was the reason of his presence there that day. He took the coronation oath, in which he swore to the utmost of his power “to maintain the Laws of God, the true profession of the Gospel, and the Protestant Reformed Religion established by Law”. This done, he seated himself in King Edward’s chair, which was placed facing the altar. He was anointed, presented with the spurs, girt with the sword, vested with his purple robes, and having received the ring, the orb and the sceptres, was crowned about two o’clock, amid loud and repeated acclamations, the drums beating, the trumpets sounding, and the cannon blaring. The Prince of Wales and the other peers then put on their coronets. The Bible was presented to the King by the Archbishop of Canterbury, and his Majesty sat on his throne and received the homage of the Prince of Wales and the lords, spiritual and temporal. The second oblation was made, the King received the Holy Communion, and at the close of the office retired to King Edward’s chapel. He was there revested in his robes of velvet, but now wore his crown, the procession was re-formed, and he returned to Westminster Hall. The coronation banquet followed, the King having on his left the Prince of Wales. It was all over by seven o’clock, when the King returned to St. James’s.[53]
Several amusing incidents occurred at the coronation of George the First. It was attended by men of all parties, Tories, Whigs and even Jacobites were present, and their emotions varied according to their views. George was crowned “King of France,” and in proof of this nominal right, two hirelings, a couple of players in fact, attended to represent the Dukes of Picardy and Normandy. They wore robes of crimson velvet and ermine, and each held in his hand a cap of cloth of gold. They did homage to the King with the other peers, and when the nobles put their coronets on their heads, the sham dukes clapped their caps on too. This part of the performance afforded much amusement to the Jacobites, who remarked derisively that the sham peers were worthy of the sham king. On the other hand, Lady Cowper, who was a thoroughgoing Whig, writes: “I never was so affected with joy in all my life; it brought tears into my eyes, and I hope I shall never forget the blessing of seeing our holy religion preserved, as well as our liberties and properties”. But her pious joy did not prevent her commenting on the ill-behaviour of her rival, Lady Nottingham, who, not content with pushing Lady Cowper aside, taking her place and forcing her to mount the pulpit stairs in order to see, “when the Litany was to be sung, broke from behind the rest of the company, where she was placed, and knelt down before them all, though none of the rest did, facing the King and repeating the Litany. Everybody stared at her, and I could read in their countenances that they thought she overdid her High Church part.”[54]
Bolingbroke was present, and did homage to the King, who, not having seen him before, asked the Lord Chamberlain who he was, whereupon Bolingbroke turned round, faced the throne, and made three very low obeisances. He was more complaisant than many of the Jacobite peers and peeresses, who, though they were present, could hardly conceal their feelings. For instance, when the Archbishop went round the throne demanding the consent of the people, Lady Dorchester, who was an ardent Jacobite (for she had been mistress of James the Second, and raised to the peerage as the price of her dishonour), asked the lady next her: “Does the old fool think anybody here will say ‘no’ to his question, when there are so many drawn swords?” Owing to the King’s ignorance of English, and to the high officials standing near him knowing neither German nor French, the ceremonies incident upon his coronation had to be explained to him through the medium of such Latin as they could muster. This circumstance gave rise to the jest that much bad language passed between the King and his Ministers on the day of his coronation. The King’s repetition of the anti-Catholic declaration was so impaired by his German accent as to be unintelligible, and he might have been protesting against something quite different for all that loyal Protestants could know. But if George did not understand the English language, he understood who were his enemies, and when Bishop Atterbury came forward, as in duty bound, to stand by the canopy, the King roughly repulsed him. The King had hitherto shown stolid indifference to everything prepared in his honour, determined not to be surprised into any expression of admiration, but when the peers shouted and put on their coronets, even his German phlegm was moved, and he declared that it reminded him of the Day of Judgment.
It is probable that the new-born interest in the House of Hanover reached its height at George the First’s coronation, but even on that day all was not quite harmony. There were Jacobite riots in Bristol, Birmingham and Norwich. In London, though all passed off quietly, the loyalty of the mob showed signs of change; affronts were offered to the King, and shouts were heard of “Damn King George”. If we may believe Baron Pöllnitz, there was one present at Westminster Hall who openly refused to acknowledge George the First as king on the very day of his coronation. When the champion, armed from head to foot in mail, rode into the banqueting hall, and, in a loud voice, challenged any person who did not acknowledge George as King of England, a woman threw down her glove, and cried that his Majesty King James the Third was the only lawful owner of the crown, and the Elector of Hanover was a usurper. But this story is unsupported by any other authority. Everything goes to show that for the first few months, until the English people came to know more of their Hanoverian King, there was little open opposition. The Jacobites were for the moment dumfoundered by the ease and smoothness of the change, while the Tories, divided amongst themselves, were in hopeless confusion. Even Louis the Fourteenth, that bulwark of Jacobite hopes, acknowledged George as King of England. The great mass of the nation acquiesced in the new régime, but without enthusiasm, and were willing to give it a fair trial. But the Whigs made amends for the lack of general enthusiasm, and were jubilant at the turn of events, which had exceeded their most sanguine hopes.
A month or two later the Government appointed “A day of public thanksgiving for his Majesty’s happy and peaceable accession to the crown,” and the King, with the Prince and Princess of Wales, and all the great officers of state, attended a special service in St. Paul’s Cathedral, where a Te Deum was sung and a sermon preached by the Bishop of Gloucester. Everything passed off harmoniously, and the royal procession was loudly acclaimed on its way to and from St. Paul’s. Truly the stars in their courses were fighting for the House of Hanover.
FOOTNOTES TO BOOK II, CHAPTER I:
[46] The Weekly Journal, 22nd September, 1714.