GEORGE IV. AND MRS. FITZHERBERT
In the last decade of the eighteenth century England was perhaps themost brilliant nation of the world. Other countries had been humbled bythe splendid armies of France and were destined to be still furtherhumbled by the emperor who came from Corsica. France had begun to seizethe scepter of power; yet to this picture there was anotherside--fearful want and grievous poverty and the horrors of theRevolution. Russia was too far away, and was still considered toobarbarous, for a brilliant court to flourish there. Prussia had theprestige that Frederick the Great won for her, but she was still acomparatively small state. Italy was in a condition of political chaos;the banks of the Rhine were running blood where the Austrian armiesfaced the gallant Frenchmen under the leadership of Moreau. ButEngland, in spite of the loss of her American colonies, was rich andprosperous, and her invincible fleets were extending her empire overthe seven seas.
At no time in modern England has the court at London seen so much realsplendor or such fine manners. The royalist emigres who fled fromFrance brought with them names and pedigrees that were older than theCrusades, and many of them were received with the frankest, freestEnglish hospitality. If here and there some marquis or baron of ancientblood was perforce content to teach music to the daughters of tradesmenin suburban schools, nevertheless they were better off than they hadbeen in France, harried by the savage gaze-hounds of the guillotine.Afterward, in the days of the Restoration, when they came back to theirestates, they had probably learned more than one lesson from thebouledogues of Merry England, who had little tact, perhaps, but whowere at any rate kindly and willing to share their goods with pinchedand poverty-stricken foreigners.
The court, then, as has been said, was brilliant with notables fromContinental countries, and with the historic wealth of the peerage ofEngland. Only one cloud overspread it; and that was the mentalcondition of the king. We have become accustomed to think of George IIIas a dull creature, almost always hovering on the verge of thatinsanity which finally swept him into a dark obscurity; but Thackeray'spicture of him is absurdly untrue to the actual facts. George III. wasby no means a dullard, nor was he a sort of beefy country squire whoroved about the palace gardens with his unattractive spouse.
Obstinate enough he was, and ready for a combat with the rulers of theContinent or with his self-willed sons; but he was a man of brains andpower, and Lord Rosebery has rightly described him as the most strikingconstitutional figure of his time. Had he retained his reason, and hadhis erratic and self-seeking son not succeeded him during his ownlifetime, Great Britain might very possibly have entered upon otherways than those which opened to her after the downfall of Napoleon.
The real center of fashionable England, however, was not George III.,but rather his son, subsequently George IV., who was made Prince ofWales three days after his birth, and who became prince regent duringthe insanity of the king. He was the leader of the social world, thefit companion of Beau Brummel and of a choice circle of rakes andfox-hunters who drank pottle-deep. Some called him "the first gentlemanof Europe." Others, who knew him better, described him as one who neverkept his word to man or woman and who lacked the most elementaryvirtues.
Yet it was his good luck during the first years of his regency to bepopular as few English kings have ever been. To his people he typifiedold England against revolutionary France; and his youth and gaiety mademany like him. He drank and gambled; he kept packs of hounds andstrings of horses; he ran deeply into debt that he might patronize thesports of that uproarious day. He was a gallant "Corinthian," a haunterof dens where there were prize-fights and cock-fights, and there washardly a doubtful resort in London where his face was not familiar.
He was much given to gallantry--not so much, as it seemed, forwantonness, but from sheer love of mirth and chivalry. For a time, withhis chosen friends, such as Fox and Sheridan, he ventured into recklessintrigues that recalled the amours of his predecessor, Charles II. Hehad by no means the wit and courage of Charles; and, indeed, the houseof Hanover lacked the outward show of chivalry which made the Stuartsshine with external splendor. But he was good-looking and stalwart, andwhen he had half a dozen robust comrades by his side he could assume avery manly appearance. Such was George IV. in his regency and in hisprime. He made that period famous for its card-playing, its deepdrinking, and for the dissolute conduct of its courtiers and noblemenno less than for the gallantry of its soldiers and its momentousvictories on sea and land. It came, however, to be seen that his trueachievements were in reality only escapades, that his wit was onlyfolly, and his so-called "sensibility" was but sham. He inventedbuckles, striped waistcoats, and flamboyant collars, but he knewnothing of the principles of kingship or the laws by which a state isgoverned.
The fact that he had promiscuous affairs with women appealed at firstto the popular sense of the romantic. It was not long, however, beforethese episodes were trampled down into the mire of vulgar scandal.
One of the first of them began when he sent a letter, signed"Florizel," to a young actress, "Perdita" Robinson. Mrs. Robinson,whose maiden name was Mary Darby, and who was the original of famousportraits by Gainsborough and Reynolds, was a woman of beauty, talent,and temperament. George, wishing in every way to be "romantic,"insisted upon clandestine meetings on the Thames at Kew, with all thestage trappings of the popular novels--cloaks, veils, faces hidden, andarmed watchers to warn her of approaching danger. Poor Perdita tookthis nonsense so seriously that she gave up her natural vocation forthe stage, and forsook her husband, believing that the prince wouldnever weary of her.
He did weary of her very soon, and, with the brutality of a man of sucha type, turned her away with the promise of some money; after which hecut her in the Park and refused to speak to her again. As for themoney, he may have meant to pay it, but Perdita had a long strugglebefore she succeeded in getting it. It may be assumed that the princehad to borrow it and that this obligation formed part of the debtswhich Parliament paid for him.
It is not necessary to number the other women whose heads he turned.They are too many for remembrance here, and they have no specialsignificance, save one who, as is generally believed, became his wifeso far as the church could make her so. An act of 1772 had made itillegal for any member of the English royal family to marry without thepermission of the king. A marriage contracted without the king'sconsent might be lawful in the eyes of the church, but the childrenborn of it could not inherit any claim to the throne.
It may be remarked here that this withholding of permission wasstrictly enforced. Thus William IV., who succeeded George IV., wasmarried, before his accession to the throne, to Mrs. Jordan (DorothyBland). Afterward he lawfully married a woman of royal birth who wasknown as Queen Adelaide.
There is an interesting story which tells how Queen Victoria came to beborn because her father, the Duke of Kent, was practically forced togive up a morganatic union which he greatly preferred to a marriagearranged for him by Parliament. Except the Duke of Cambridge, the Dukeof Kent was the only royal duke who was likely to have children in theregular line. The only daughter of George IV. had died in childhood.The Duke of Cumberland was for various reasons ineligible; the Duke ofClarence, later King William IV., was almost too old; and therefore, toinsure the succession, the Duke of Kent was begged to marry a young andattractive woman, a princess of the house of Saxe-Coburg, who was readyfor the honor. It was greatly to the Duke's credit that he showed deepand sincere feeling in this matter. As he said himself in effect:
"This French lady has stood by me in hard times and in good times,too--why should I cast her off? She has been more than a wife to me.And what do I care for your plans in Parliament? Send over for one ofthe Stuarts--they are better men than the last lot of our fellows thatyou have had!"
In the end, however, he was wearied out and was persuaded to marry, buthe insisted that a generous sum should be settled on the lady who hadbeen so long his true companion, and to whom, no doubt, he gave many awistful thought in his new but unfamil
iar quarters in KensingtonPalace, which was assigned as his residence.
Again, the second Duke of Cambridge, who died only a few years ago,greatly desired to marry a lady who was not of royal rank, though offine breeding and of good birth. He besought his young cousin, as headof the family, to grant him this privilege of marriage; but QueenVictoria stubbornly refused. The duke was married according to therites of the church, but he could not make his wife a duchess. Thequeen never quite forgave him for his partial defiance of her wishes,though the duke's wife--she was usually spoken of as Mrs.FitzGeorge--was received almost everywhere, and two of her sons holdhigh rank in the British army and navy, respectively.
The one real love story in the life of George IV. is that which tellsof his marriage with a lady who might well have been the wife of anyking. This was Maria Anne Smythe, better known as Mrs. Fitzherbert, whowas six years older than the young prince when she first met him incompany with a body of gentlemen and ladies in 1784.
Maria Fitzherbert's face was one which always displayed its bestadvantages. Her eyes were peculiarly languishing, and, as she hadalready been twice a widow, and was six years his senior, she had theadvantage over a less experienced lover. Likewise, she was a Catholic,and so by another act of Parliament any marriage with her would beillegal. Yet just because of all these different objections the princewas doubly drawn to her, and was willing to sacrifice even the throneif he could but win her.
His father, the king, called him into the royal presence and said:
"George, it is time that you should settle down and insure thesuccession to the throne."
"Sir," replied the prince, "I prefer to resign the succession and letmy brother have it, and that I should live as a private Englishgentleman."
Mrs. Fitzherbert was not the sort of woman to give herself up readilyto a morganatic connection. Moreover, she soon came to love PrinceGeorge too well to entangle him in a doubtful alliance with one ofanother faith than his. Not long after he first met her the prince, whowas always given to private theatricals, sent messengers riding in hothaste to her house to tell her that he had stabbed himself, that hebegged to see her, and that unless she came he would repeat the act.The lady yielded, and hurried to Carlton House, the prince's residence;but she was prudent enough to take with her the Duchess of Devonshire,who was a reigning beauty of the court.
The scene which followed was theatrical rather than impressive.--Theprince was found in his sleeping-chamber, pale and with his rufflesblood-stained. He played the part of a youthful and love-strickenwooer, vowing that he would marry the woman of his heart or stabhimself again. In the presence of his messengers, who, with theduchess, were witnesses, he formally took the lady as his wife, whileLady Devonshire's wedding-ring sealed the troth. The prince alsoacknowledged it in a document.
Mrs. Fitzherbert was, in fact, a woman of sound sense. Shortly afterthis scene of melodramatic intensity her wits came back to her, and sherecognized that she had merely gone through a meaningless farce. So shesent back the prince's document and the ring and hastened to theContinent, where he could not reach her, although his detectivesfollowed her steps for a year.
At the last she yielded, however, and came home to marry the prince insuch fashion as she could--a marriage of love, and surely one ofmorality, though not of parliamentary law. The ceremony was performed"in her own drawing-room in her house in London, in the presence of theofficiating Protestant clergyman and two of her own nearest relatives."
Such is the serious statement of Lord Stourton, who was Mrs.Fitzherbert's cousin and confidant. The truth of it was never denied,and Mrs. Fitzherbert was always treated with respect, and even regardedas a person of great distinction. Nevertheless, on more than oneoccasion the prince had his friends in Parliament deny the marriage inorder that his debts might be paid and new allowances issued to him bythe Treasury.
George certainly felt himself a husband. Like any other married prince,he set himself to build a palace for his country home. While in searchof some suitable spot he chanced to visit the "pretty fishing-village"of Brighton to see his uncle, the Duke of Cumberland. Doubtless hefound it an attractive place, yet this may have been not so muchbecause of its view of the sea as for the reason that Mrs. Fitzherberthad previously lived there.
However, in 1784 the prince sent down his chief cook to makearrangements for the next royal visit. The cook engaged a house on thespot where the Pavilion now stands, and from that time Brighton beganto be an extremely fashionable place. The court doctors, giving advicethat was agreeable, recommended their royal patient to take sea-bathingat Brighton. At once the place sprang into popularity.
At first the gentry were crowded into lodging-houses and theaccommodations were primitive to a degree. But soon handsome villasarose on every side; hotels appeared; places of amusement were opened.The prince himself began to build a tasteless but showy structure,partly Chinese and partly Indian in style, on the fashionable promenadeof the Steyne.
During his life with Mrs. Fitzherbert at Brighton the prince held whatwas practically a court. Hundreds of the aristocracy came down fromLondon and made their temporary dwellings there; while thousands whowere by no means of the court made the place what is now popularlycalled "London by the Sea." There were the Duc de Chartres, of France;statesmen and rakes, like Fox, Sheridan, and the Earl of Barrymore; avery beautiful woman, named Mrs. Couch, a favorite singer at the opera,to whom the prince gave at one time jewels worth ten thousand pounds;and a sister of the Earl of Barrymore, who was as notorious as herbrother. She often took the president's chair at a club which George'sfriends had organized and which she had christened the Hell Fire Club.
Such persons were not the only visitors at Brighton. Men of much moreserious demeanor came down to visit the prince and brought with themquieter society. Nevertheless, for a considerable time the place wasmost noted for its wild scenes of revelry, into which George frequentlyentered, though his home life with Mrs. Fitzherbert at the Pavilion wasa decorous one.
No one felt any doubt as to the marriage of the two persons, who seemedso much like a prince and a princess. Some of the people of the placeaddressed Mrs. Fitzherbert as "Mrs. Prince." The old king and his wife,however, much deplored their son's relation with her. This was partlydue to the fact that Mrs. Fitzherbert was a Catholic and that she hadreceived a number of French nuns who had been driven out of France atthe time of the Revolution. But no less displeasure was caused by theprince's racing and dicing, which swelled his debts to almost a millionpounds, so that Parliament and, indeed, the sober part of England wereset against him.
Of course, his marriage to Mrs. Fitzherbert had no legal status; nor isthere any reason for believing that she ever became a mother. She hadno children by her former two husbands, and Lord Stourton testifiedpositively that she never had either son or daughter by Prince George.Nevertheless, more than one American claimant has risen to advance someutterly visionary claim to the English throne by reason of allegeddescent from Prince George and Mrs. Fitzherbert.
Neither William IV. nor Queen Victoria ever spent much time atBrighton. In King William's case it was explained that the dampness ofthe Pavilion did not suit him; and as to Queen Victoria, it was saidthat she disliked the fact that buildings had been erected so as to cutoff the view of the sea. It is quite likely, however, that the queenobjected to the associations of the place, and did not care to bereminded of the time when her uncle had lived there so long in amorganatic state of marriage.
At length the time came when the king, Parliament, and the people atlarge insisted that the Prince of Wales should make a legal marriage,and a wife was selected for him in the person of Caroline, daughter ofthe Duke of Brunswick. This marriage took place exactly ten years afterhis wedding with the beautiful and gentle-mannered Mrs. Fitzherbert.With the latter he had known many days and hours of happiness. WithPrincess Caroline he had no happiness at all.
Prince George met her at the pier to greet her. It is said that as hetook her hand he kissed her, and th
en, suddenly recoiling, he whisperedto one of his friends:
"For God's sake, George, give me a glass of brandy!"
Such an utterance was more brutal and barbaric than anything his bridecould have conceived of, though it is probable, fortunately, that shedid not understand him by reason of her ignorance of English.
We need not go through the unhappy story of this unsympathetic,neglected, rebellious wife. Her life with the prince soon became one ofopen warfare; but instead of leaving England she remained to set thekingdom in an uproar. As soon as his father died and he became king,George sued her for divorce. Half the people sided with the queen,while the rest regarded her as a vulgar creature who made love to herattendants and brought dishonor on the English throne. It was a sorry,sordid contrast between the young Prince George who had posed as a sortof cavalier and this now furious gray old man wrangling with hisfurious German wife.
Well might he look back to the time when he met Perdita in themoonlight on the Thames, or when he played the part of Florizel, or,better still, when he enjoyed the sincere and disinterested love of thegentle woman who was his wife in all but legal status. Caroline ofBrunswick was thrust away from the king's coronation. She took a housewithin sight of Westminster Abbey, so that she might make hag-likescreeches to the mob and to the king as he passed by. Presently, inAugust, 1821, only a month after the coronation, she died, and her bodywas taken back to Brunswick for burial.
George himself reigned for nine years longer. When he died in 1830 hisexecutor was the Duke of Wellington. The duke, in examining the lateking's private papers, found that he had kept with the greatest careevery letter written to him by his morganatic wife. During his lastillness she had sent him an affectionate missive which it is saidGeorge "read eagerly." Mrs. Fitzherbert wished the duke to give up herletters; but he would do so only in return for those which he hadwritten to her.
It was finally decided that it would be best to burn both his and hers.This work was carried out in Mrs. Fitzherbert's own house by the lady,the duke, and the Earl of Albemarle.
Of George it may be said that he has left as memories behind him onlythree things that will be remembered. The first is the Pavilion atBrighton, with its absurdly oriental decorations, its minarets andflimsy towers. The second is the buckle which he invented and whichThackeray has immortalized with his biting satire. The last is thestory of his marriage to Maria Fitzherbert, and of the influenceexercised upon him by the affection of a good woman.