[89] Tindal’s History.
[90] Maby’s Life of Chesterfield.
[91] Parliamentary History, vol. ix., p. 254.
CHAPTER IX.
FREDERICK, PRINCE OF WALES.
There was another and more dangerous enemy whom Walpole could not touch, and of whose dislike he was at this time not fully aware—the Prince of Wales. Throughout the excise agitation the Prince had silently and stealthily worked against his parents and the Prime Minister. He had now become more familiar with the position of affairs in England, and had learnt the importance of his position in the state.
The Prince was a constant source of trouble to the King, nor was the blame wholly on Frederick’s side. The Queen urged the advisability of giving the Prince a separate establishment, and went to look at a house for him in George Street, Hanover Square, but the King stubbornly refused to give the necessary money, and so Frederick had perforce to live with his parents in apartments in one of the palaces, and to be a daily recipient of his father’s slights. Such a position would have been trying for the most virtuous and dutiful of sons, and the Prince was neither virtuous nor dutiful. Moreover, though Parliament granted the King £100,000 for the Prince of Wales, yet Frederick received only a small allowance from his father, and even that was uncertain. Under these circumstances he quickly accumulated debts, which the King refused to pay. The Queen interceded for him, but in vain, and she received no gratitude from her son, who resented, as far as he dared, her being appointed Regent in the King’s absence instead of himself. As he was entirely dependent on his father for money, he did not venture to make a public protest, but he cherished a grudge against his mother for superseding him.
With all these grievances, Frederick soon followed his father’s example of caballing against his sire, and he found plenty of sympathy from those who were in opposition to the court and the Government. He had not been long in England before an opportunity was afforded him of playing to the popular gallery by an unpopular demand of the Crown to Parliament to make good a pretended deficiency in the Civil List of £115,000; it was really a veiled form of making the King a further grant. The measure was violently opposed by the Opposition, but Walpole succeeded in carrying it through the House of Commons. A great deal of ill-feeling against the court was produced in the country by this extortionate demand, and the Craftsman did its best to fan the flame of discontent. The Prince of Wales, who was exceedingly sore at his father’s meanness towards him, pretended to disapprove of the King’s conduct in making this demand, and was inconsiderate enough to say so to certain personages, and his words, repeated from mouth to mouth, did not lose in the journey. Pulteney and Bolingbroke, and other prominent members of the Opposition, quoted with approval what the Prince had said, and condoled with him on the way in which he was treated by his father. The rumour of this reaching the King’s ears incensed him the more against his son, but he could not act merely on hearsay. He had no tangible ground of complaint against him, for the Prince was cautious.
Another cause which drew the Prince towards the Opposition was his liking for literature and talent. He seems to have had a genuine taste for les belles lettres, he wrote poetry in French and English, some of it not absolutely indifferent.[92] The cleverest writers sided with the Opposition and the polished periods of Bolingbroke, the eloquence of Wyndham, and the wit of Chesterfield and Pulteney, all appealed to him. Bolingbroke, especially, gained influence with the Prince, and in time became his political mentor. Apart from the political aspect of the union, there seems to have been a sincere friendship between the two. Soon after Frederick came to England, Bolingbroke made overtures to him, to which the Prince responded graciously, and the first interview between them, a secret one, took place by appointment at the house of a mutual friend. Bolingbroke who was the first to arrive, was shown into the library, and was passing the time by turning over the leaves of a bulky tome. The Prince entered the room unannounced. The book fell to the floor, and in his haste to bend the knee, Bolingbroke’s foot slipped, and had not the Prince stepped forward to support him he would have fallen to the ground. “My lord,” said Frederick, with exquisite tact, as he raised him, “I trust this may be an omen of my succeeding in raising your fortunes.”
The Prince had charming manners, which he inherited from his mother, and he had other gifts which won for him popularity, notably his generosity, which verged on extravagance. He had that easy and affable address which sits so well on a royal personage, and he was popular with the people. It pleased them to see the heir apparent walking about the streets unguarded, and followed only by a servant. And Frederick had always a bow and a smile for the meanest of his father’s subjects who recognised him.
The Prince’s chief favourite and counsellor was George Budd Doddington, a curious man, whose geniality and vanity were in marked contrast to his political intrigues. He was the nephew of Doddington, one of the wealthiest land owners in England, whose sister had made a mésalliance with one Bubb, an apothecary of Carlisle. On the death of Bubb, his widow was forgiven, and her son George succeeded to his uncle’s vast estates, and assumed the name of Doddington by royal licence. As he owned two boroughs, he entered the House of Commons and attached himself to Walpole, but on being refused a peerage by that statesman he turned against him. He made the acquaintance of the Prince of Wales soon after his arrival in England, and threw in his lot with him. Doddington was a useful friend to the Prince in many ways, for, in addition to his social qualities and knowledge of men, his wealth was of use. Doddington not only placed his purse at the Prince’s service, but suffered himself to become the butt of Frederick’s not very refined jests and practical jokes. “He submitted,” says Horace Walpole, “to the Prince’s childish horseplay, being once rolled up in a blanket and trundled downstairs. Nor was he negligent of paying more solid court by lending his Royal Highness money.” Frederick once observed to some of his boon companions: “This is a strange country, this England. I am told Doddington is reckoned a clever man, yet I got £5,000 out of him this morning; he has no chance of ever seeing it again.” But Doddington was keenly alive to the social distinction which the Prince’s friendship conferred upon him, and no doubt received what he considered an equivalent for the money.