" 491 " 2 " 25, Queensberry, for "Earl of" read "Duke of".
CHAPTER I.
George III. was in his twenty-third year when he succeeded his grandfather, George II., on October 25, 1760. His accession caused general satisfaction. The jacobite schism had come to an end; no one imagined that a restoration of the exiled house was possible, or seriously wished that it might take place. The remembrance of the rising of '45 strengthened the general feeling of loyalty to the reigning house; the Old Pretender had lost all interest in public affairs, and his son, Charles Edward, was a confirmed drunkard, and had alienated his friends by his disreputable life. Englishmen were determined not to have another Roman catholic king, and they were too proud of their country willingly to accept as their king a prince who was virtually a foreigner as well as a papist, and whose cause had in past years been maintained by the enemies of England. It is true that their last two kings had been foreigners, but this was so no longer; their new king had been born and brought up among them and was an Englishman to the backbone. He succeeded an old king of coarse manners and conversation and of openly immoral life, and his youth and the respectability of his morals added to the pleasure with which his people greeted him as a sovereign of their own nation.
National feeling was growing in strength; it had been kindled by Pitt, and fanned into a flame by a series of victories which were largely due to the inspiration of his lofty spirit. He had raised Great Britain from a low estate to a height such as it had never reached before. The French power had been overthrown in North America and the dominion of Canada had been added to the British territories. In India the victories of Clive and his generals were soon to be crowned by the fall of Pondicherry, and French and Dutch alike had already lost all chance of successfully opposing the advance of British rule by force of arms. Great Britain had become mistress of the sea. Her naval power secured her the possession of Canada, for her ships cut off the garrison of Montreal from help by sea; it sealed the fate of the French operations in India, for D'Aché was forced to withdraw his ships from the Coromandel coast and leave Lally without support. In the West Indies Guadeloupe had fallen, and in Africa Goree. In every quarter the power of France was destroyed, her colonies were conquered, her ships captured or driven from the sea.
The naval supremacy of England is attested, strange as it seems at first sight, by her losses in merchant shipping, which were far heavier than those of France, more than 300 in 1760, more than 800 in 1761, for many English merchantmen were at sea while the French dared not send out their merchant ships for fear of capture. Nor was this all, for the ruin of the commerce of France led the shipowners of St. Malo to fit out many of their ships as privateers and corsairs, and the ruin of her navy sent many a fine seaman aboard them. Skippers of English traders who straggled from their convoy, or sailed ahead of it in order to be first in the market, were often punished for their obstinacy or greediness by these fast-sailing privateers.[1] In spite of these losses, England's supremacy at sea caused a rapid increase in her wealth and commerce, and she took full advantage of her power, seizing French merchandise carried in neutral vessels. The wealth acquired through her naval supremacy enabled her to uphold the cause of her allies on the continent. England's purse alone afforded Frederick of Prussia the means of keeping the field, and the continuance of the war depended on her subsidies. The continental war, in which our troops played a secondary part, was by no means so popular as the naval war, yet under Pitt's administration it had helped to rouse the spirit of the nation. A new militia had been created and the old jealousy of a standing army was weakened. It was, then, at a time when national feeling was strong that Englishmen were called upon to welcome a king of their own nationality, and they answered to the call with enthusiasm.
THE YOUNG KING.
George was in many respects worthy of their welcome. Moral in his conduct and domestic in his tastes, he set an example of sobriety and general decency of behaviour. He was kind-hearted and had the gift of pleasing. On public occasions his demeanour and words were dignified. In private he talked in a homely way, his words following one another too quickly and sometimes showing a confusion of thought and excitability of brain. To the poor he would speak with familiar kindness, chatting with them like a good-natured squire. Yet simple as he was in his habits and private talk, he always spoke and acted as a gentleman; the coarseness of the old court was a thing of the past. He was deeply and unaffectedly pious, and was strongly attached to the Church of England; his religion was of a sober kind and was carried into his daily life. He was constantly guided by the dictates of his conscience. His will was strong; and as his conscience was by no means always so well-informed as he believed it to be, his firmness often deserved the name of obstinacy. Nor, in common with the best of men, did he always clearly distinguish between his personal feelings and conscientious convictions. He had great self-control, and was both morally and physically courageous. Though as a youth he had been idle, he was never addicted to pleasure; his accession brought him work which was congenial to him, he overcame his natural tendency to sloth and, so long as his health allowed, discharged his kingly duties with diligence. His intellectual powers were small and uncultivated, but he had plenty of shrewdness and common sense; he showed a decided ability for kingcraft, not of the highest kind, and gained many successes over powerful opponents. The welfare of his people was dear to him; he was jealous for the honour of England, rejoiced in her prosperity, and strove with all his strength to save her from humiliation. In religion, tastes, and prejudices he was in sympathy with the great mass of his people; and in matters in which his policy and conduct seem most open to censure, he had the majority of the nation with him.
He had, however, some serious failings which brought trouble both on his people and himself. They were largely the results of his training. His father, Frederick, Prince of Wales, a fool, a fribble and worse, died when George was twelve years old. His mother, the Princess Augusta, was a woman of strong will, ambitious of power, unamiable in temper, thoroughly insincere, narrow-minded, and full of petty feelings. She was strict in all religious matters, had a high sense of duty, and was a careful mother. When her son became king, she acted as though she had a right to direct him in his political work. Her interference was mischievous: she was unpopular and incapable of understanding the politics of a great country; for she had the prejudices of a little German court, and regarded politics merely in a personal light. George grew up completely under her influence. Jealous of her authority and influence over her sons, she was quick to suspect their governors and preceptors of trying to act independently of her, and thwarted them continually. They had no chance of gaining George's confidence or of giving him the benefits which a lad may derive from the society of men experienced in the ways of the world. Do what they would, the princess was always too strong for them, and Lord Waldegrave, one of the prince's governors, records as his own experience that "the mother and the nursery always prevailed". Nor had George the opportunity of learning anything from companions of his own age; his mother was afraid that his morals would be corrupted by association with young people, and kept him in the strictest seclusion. He had no friend except his brother Edward. Her jealousy extended to her children's nearest relations. They had little intercourse with the court, and William, Duke of Cumberland, whose upright character and soldierly qualities might well have endeared him to his nephews, complained that as children they were taught to regard him with the most unworthy suspicion.