Chapter V: Caroline’s First Regency

1729.

In May, 1729, the King, who had been for some time anxious to visit his Hanoverian dominions, which he had not seen since 1714, got a short Act passed through Parliament appointing the Queen to act as Regent in his absence. The King’s visit to Hanover was very unpopular with his English subjects, who hoped that they had heard of the last of these journeys when George the First died. As Prince of Wales, George the Second had always declared that he loved England far better than Hanover, but this was only in opposition to his father, and soon after he ascended the throne he avowed himself strongly Hanoverian in his tastes and found fault with everything in England. In this mood the best thing for him to do was to return to his own country for a time, and Walpole no doubt was glad to get him out of the way, while the Queen eagerly grasped at the authority which the deed of regency granted her. But she showed none of this eagerness to the King, and when he announced his intention of leaving England she deplored his absence with tears, and received his commission on her knees with all due humility. The King gave the royal assent to the Act of Regency on May 14th, and three days later he set out for Hanover, accompanied by a numerous retinue, and Lord Townshend as Minister in attendance.

The Queen appointed the Speaker of the House of Commons, Onslow, to be her Chancellor during her Regency, and Keeper of the Great Seal. She held her first Council as Regent five days after the King left. It was reported in the _London Gazette_ as follows:--

“_At the Court at Kensington the 22nd day of May, 1729._

“Present.

“The Queen’s Most Excellent Majesty,

“His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales, Archbishop of Canterbury,
Lord Chancellor, Lord Privy Seal, Lord Steward, Lord Chamberlain,
Duke of Somerset, Duke of Bolton, Duke of Rutland, Duke of Argyll,
Duke of Montrose, Duke of Kent, Duke of Ancaster, Duke of Newcastle,
Earl of Westmoreland, Earl of Burlington, Earl of Scarborough, Earl
of Coventry, Earl of Grantham, Earl of Godolphin, Earl of Loudoun,
Earl of Findlater, Earl of Marchmont, Earl of Ilay, Earl of Uxbridge,
Earl of Sussex, Viscount Lonsdale, Viscount Cobham, Viscount
Falmouth, Lord Wilmington, Mr. Speaker, Mr. Chancellor of the
Exchequer, Master of the Rolls, Sir Paul Methuen, and Henry Pelham,
Esq.

“The King’s Commission appointing Her Most Excellent Majesty the
Queen Regent over this Kingdom, by the Style and Title of Guardian
of the Kingdom of Great Britain, and His Majesty’s Lieutenant within
the same during His Majesty’s absence, was this day by Her Majesty’s
command, opened and read in His Majesty’s Most Honourable Privy
Council, after which His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales, and all
the Lords and others of the Council who were present, had the honour
to kiss Her Majesty’s hand.”

Caroline entered with manifest enjoyment upon the duties of her office, and discharged them with great ability; she had so long known the essence of power that it was easy for her to adapt herself to its outward manifestation. Townshend, who was jealous of Walpole’s favour with the Queen, endeavoured to induce the King to modify her powers as Regent, and urged him to send a despatch to that effect from the Hague, but the King, though he listened, declined to do so; in fact, he knew better than any one else that his interests were safe in his consort’s hands.

The Queen-Regent had the power of opening and proroguing Parliament, signifying the royal assent to acts and measures, appointing bishops, and of making other important appointments; she also received the foreign ambassadors and envoys as though she were the King, and corresponded with foreign sovereigns. Queen Caroline was especially careful to cultivate and strengthen the good understanding between England and France, and she wrote several letters to the King of France, and sent him a present of a dozen hogsheads of perry and cider.[39]

The most important negotiation in foreign affairs was the Treaty of Seville, which was practically concluded during Caroline’s regency, though it was not signed until a little later (November 9th, 1729). This treaty terminated the long dispute between England and Spain. By its provisions, English trade to America, which had been interrupted, was restored. England was given back all that Spain had captured during the war, and the Asiento Treaty (or contract for supplying negroes, of establishing certain factories, and of sending one ship to the South Sea) was confirmed to the South Sea Company. But the most important feature of the treaty was that Gibraltar was tacitly relinquished by Spain. It would be too much to claim for Caroline the credit of the cession of Gibraltar to England, but there is no doubt that her wise and temperate counsels, and her anxiety not to give needless offence to Spanish susceptibilities by mentioning the fortress by name, materially aided William Stanhope, the English plenipotentiary at Madrid, in conducting the difficult and delicate negotiations which resulted in the Treaty of Seville. Gibraltar was a question which touched Spanish pride very nearly, and to see a fortress on its own shores held and garrisoned by England was as great a humiliation to Spain as England’s possession of Calais had once been to France.

Time had been, and not so long before, when English Ministers advised the recession of Gibraltar to Spain, and George the First had written a letter which contained a promise to restore the fortress at some future time. This letter had been written upon the advice of Townshend and Carteret in 1721, and so lately as 1728 we find that Townshend was still in favour of the cession of Gibraltar. Writing to Poyntz he declared: “What you proposed in relation to Gibraltar is certainly very reasonable, and is exactly conformable to the opinion which you know I have always entertained concerning that place; but you cannot but be sensible of the violent and almost superstitious zeal which has of late prevailed among all parties of this kingdom against any scheme for the restitution of Gibraltar upon any conditions whatsoever.”[40] If the matter had rested with Townshend, who had obtained the ear of the King during his absence at Hanover, Gibraltar would probably have been ceded to Spain.

To Caroline, therefore, acting in conjunction with Walpole, the credit is due of having retained it for England. True, Gibraltar was not mentioned by name in the Treaty of Seville, though the Opposition clamoured for its explicit mention. But the Queen and the Prime Minister were firm; they were content with the kernel and troubled not about the husk. The result justified their wisdom. The treaty was ultimately ratified without conditions, and Gibraltar henceforth became a recognised possession of England.

In this, as in all other matters, the Queen worked in close accord with Walpole, and by way of showing the Opposition how little she heeded their attacks, she publicly marked her favour of the Prime Minister by going to dine with him, accompanied by the Prince of Wales and all the Royal Family, at his house at Chelsea, where a magnificent entertainment was provided for her Majesty. The Queen and the Royal Family dined in one room, and the rest of the party in another, Walpole himself waiting on his illustrious guest. Nor did the Queen neglect the ceremonial side of her office; she kept great state whilst she was at St. James’s, and on the anniversary (June 11th) of the King’s Accession she held a court at St. James’s which was one of the most largely attended of the reign. She also frequently honoured the nobility with her presence at their entertainments.

At Windsor Caroline kept much company, availing herself of the King’s absence to go there. At Windsor she felt Queen of England indeed; she occupied the rooms which had been used by the late Queen Anne, and her favourite sitting room was the closet wherein Anne first heard of the great victory of Blenheim, in which hung the banner annually presented by the Duke of Marlborough, and now by his daughter, who was duchess in her own right. Caroline held drawing-rooms in the state apartments, of which the finest were the magnificent St. George’s Hall and the ball room, hung with tapestry representing the seasons of the year. The celebrated collection of beauties by Sir Peter Lely, afterwards removed to Hampton Court, adorned one of the state apartments, and the private chapel had some exquisite carved work by Grinling Gibbons. Here Caroline attended divine service, and, seated in the royal closet hung with crimson velvet, listened to lengthy discourses from Dr. Samuel Clarke, or some other favourite divine.

It was from Windsor on a notable occasion that she drove to honour the Earl and Countess of Orkney with a visit to their beautiful seat at Clieveden. “Yesterday,” writes Peter Wentworth, “the Queen and all the Royal Family went to dine and supper at Clieveden. How they were diverted I know not, but I believe very well, for they did not come home until almost four in the morning.”[41] According to all accounts the entertainment was very successful, but Lady Orkney’s anxieties as a hostess seem to have weighed heavily upon her, for we find her writing a long letter a few days later to Mrs. Howard, expressing her “anguish” because some little things had gone wrong. Perhaps, Lady Orkney only wanted a more particular expression of the Queen’s satisfaction. Her letter may be quoted as an expression of the fulsome servility to royal personages then in vogue even among the high nobility.

“CLIEVEDEN, _August 5th, 1729_.

“MADAM,

“I give you this trouble out of the _anguish_ of my mind, to have
the Queen doing us the honour to dine here, and nothing performed in
the order it ought to have been! The stools which were set for the
Royal Family, though distinguished from ours, which I thought right,
because the Princess Royal sits so at quadrille, put away by Lord
Grantham,[42] who said there was to be no distinction from princes
and princesses and the ladies. He directed the table-cloths so that
there must be two to cover the table; for he used to have it so; in
short, turned the servants’ heads. They kept back the dinner too long
for her Majesty after it was dished, and was set before the fire,
and made it look not well dressed, the Duke of Grafton saying they
wanted a _maître d’hôtel_. All this vexed my Lord Orkney so--he tells
me he hopes I will never meddle more, if he could ever hope for the
same honour; which I own I did too much, as I see by the success,
but having done it for the late King,[43] and was told that things
were in that order, that it was as if his Majesty had lived here, I
ventured it now, but I have promised not to aim at it more.

“But what I have said shows the greater goodness in the Queen to be
so very easy. I have seen condescension in princesses, but none that
ever came up to her Majesty: nay, not all the good you have ever said
could make me imagine what I saw and heard. We all agreed her Majesty
must be admired; and, if I may use the term, it was impossible to see
her and not love her.

“If you hear of these mismanagements, pray be so good as to say
the house was too little for the reception of the Queen, and so
many great princes and princesses, who, without flattery, cannot
be but respectedly admired. I thought I had turned my mind in a
philosophical way of having done with the world, but I find I have
deceived myself; for I am vexed and pleased with the honours I have
received. I know from your discretion you will burn this, and I hope
will always believe me, etc.,

“E. ORKNEY.”[44]

From Windsor the Queen returned to Kensington, which she made her headquarters for the rest of the summer, paying visits occasionally to Hampton Court, Richmond, and Windsor, for the purpose of hunting. The best idea of the social side of her regency may be gathered from the letters that Peter Wentworth wrote during this period to Lord Strafford.[45] They throw curious sidelights on the manners of the time. To quote seriatim:--

“KENSINGTON, _July 25th, 1729_.

“I have been at Richmond again with the Queen and the Royal Family,
and I thank God they are all very well. We are to go there to-day,
and the Queen walks about there all day long. I shall be no more
her jest as a lover of drink at free cost, not only from her own
observation of one whom she sees every morning at eight o’clock, and
in the evening again at seven, walking in the gardens, and in the
drawing-room till after ten, but because she has my Lord Lifford
to play upon, who this day sen’night got drunk at Richmond. His
manner of getting so was pleasant enough; he dined with my good Lord
Grantham, who is well served at his table with meat, but very stingy
and sparing in his drink, for as soon as his dinner is done he and
his company rise, and no round of toasts. So my lord made good use
of his time whilst at dinner, and before they rose the Prince [of
Wales] came to them and drank a _bonpêre_ to my Lord Lifford, which
he pledged, and began another to him, and so a third. The Duke of
Grafton, to show the Prince he had done his business, gave him (Lord
Lifford) a little shove, and threw him off his chair upon the ground,
and then took him up and carried him to the Queen. Sunday morning
she railed at him before all the Court upon getting drunk in her
company, and upon his gallantry and coquetry with Princess Amelia,
running up and down the steps with her. When somebody told him the
Queen was there and saw him, his answer was: ‘What do I care for
the Queen?’ He stood all her jokes not only with French impudence,
but with Irish assurance. For all you say I don’t wonder I blushed
for him and wished for half his stock. I wonder at her making it
so public. Nobody has made a song; if Mr. Hambleton will make one
that shall praise the Queen and the Royal Family’s good humour, and
expose as much as he pleases the folly of Lord Grantham and Lord
Lifford, I will show it to the Prince, and I know he won’t tell whom
he had it from, for I have lately obliged him with the sight of _Mrs.
Fitzwilliam’s litany_, and he has promised he will not say he had it
from me. So I must beg you to say nothing of this to Lady Strafford,
for she will write it for news to Lady Charlotte Roussie, and then
I shall have Mrs. Fitz. angry with me, and the Prince laughing at
me for not being able to be my own councillor, as I fear you laugh
now. But if you betray me I make a solemn vow I never will tell you
anything again.

“The Queen continues very kind and obliging in her sayings to me, and
gave me t’other day an opportunity to tell her of my circumstances.
As we were driving by Chelsea she asked me what that walled place
was called. I told her Chelsea Park, and in the time of the Bubbles
’twas designed for the silkworms.[46] She asked me if I was not in
the Bubbles. With a sigh, I answered: ‘Yes, that, and my fire had
made me worse than nothing’. Some time after, when I did not think
she saw me, I was biting my nails. She called to me and said: ‘Oh
fie! Mr. Wentworth, you bite your nails very prettily’. I begged her
pardon for doing so in her presence, but said I did it for vexation
of my circumstances, and to save a crown from Dr. Lamb for cutting
them. She said she was sorry I had anything to vex me, and I did well
to save my money. The Prince told her I was one of the most diligent
servants he ever saw. I bowed and smiled as if I thought he bantered
me. He understood me, and therefore repeated again that he meant it
seriously and upon his word he thought that the Queen was happy in
having so good a servant. I told him ’twas a great satisfaction to me
to meet with his Royal Highness’s approbation. He clapped his hand
upon my shoulder and assured me that I had it.

“As we went to Richmond last Wednesday our grooms had a battle
with a carter that would not go out of the way. The good Queen had
compassion for the rascal and ordered me to ride after him and give
him a crown. I desired her Majesty to recall that order, for the
fellow was a very saucy fellow, and I saw him strike the Prince’s
groom first, and if we gave him anything for his beating ’twould be
an example to others to stop the way a purpose to provoke a beating.
The Prince approved what I said, for he said much the same to her
in _Dutch_, and I got immortal fame among the liverymen, who are no
small fools at this Court. I told her if she would give the crown to
anybody it should be to the Prince’s groom, who had the carter’s long
whip over his shoulders. She laughed, but saved her crown.”

“KENSINGTON, _August 14th, 1729_.

“The Queen has done me the honour to refer me for my orders to
her Royal Highness Princess Anne, and what is agreed by her will
please her Majesty; the height of my ambition is to please them
all. I flatter myself I have done so hitherto, for Princess Anne
has distinguished me with a singular mark of her favour, for she
has made me a present of a hunting suit of clothes, which is blue,
trimmed with gold, and faced and lined with red. The Prince of Wales,
Princess Anne, the Duke of Cumberland, Princess Mary and Princess
Louisa wear the same, and looked charming pretty in them. Thursday
se’nnight, Windsor Forest will be blessed with their presence again,
and since the forest _was_ a forest it never had such a fine set of
hunters, for a world of gentlemen have had the ambition to follow his
Royal Highness’s fashion.

“On Saturday last at Richmond Park, Major Sylvine made his appearance
by the Queen’s chaise, and she did him the honour to take notice
of him, telling him she was glad to see he could hunt. He thought
to be witty upon me by telling her Majesty I took such delight in
waiting that he thought it a pity to deprive me of that pleasure. My
good and gracious Queen answered him to my satisfaction and to his
mortification, for she said: ‘Does he? So ’tis a sign he loves me,
and I love him the better for’t.’ He replied he hoped her Majesty did
not think the worse of him. She had the goodness to say ‘No,’ but
repeated again that she loved me the better. Princess Amelia, who was
in the chaise with her, turned her head from Sylvine and smiled most
graciously upon me, which I could answer in no other way than by low
bows to mark the sense of the great honour that was done me. And for
my life I could not forbear getting behind the chaise to triumph over
and insult the major, telling him he had got much by being witty upon
me, which Princess Amelia heard, and laughed again upon me.”

“KENSINGTON, _August 21st, 1729_.

“Yesterday the Queen and all the Royal Family dined at Claremont,[47]
and I dined with the Duke (of Newcastle) and Sir Robert (Walpole),
etc. The Prince of Wales came to us as soon as his, and our, dinner
was over, and drank a bumper of rack-punch to the Queen’s health,
which you may be sure I devotedly pledged, and he was going on
with another, but her Majesty sent us word that she was going to
walk in the garden, so that broke up the company. We walked till
candle-light, being entertained with very fine French horns, then
returned to the great hall, and everybody agreed never was anything
finer lit.

“Her Majesty and Princess Caroline, Lady Charlotte Roussie and Mr.
Schütz played their quadrille. In the next room the Prince had the
fiddles and danced, and he did me the honour to ask me if I could
dance a country-dance. I told him ‘yes’; and if there had been a
partner for me, I should have made one in that glorious company--the
Prince with the Duchess of Newcastle, the Duke of Newcastle with
Princess Anne, the Duke of Grafton with Princess Amelia, Sir Robert
Walpole with Lady Catherine Pelham, who is with child--so they danced
but two dances. The Queen came from her cards to see that sight,
and before she said it, I thought he (Sir Robert Walpole) moved
surprisingly genteelly, and his dancing really became him, which I
should not have believed if I had not seen, and, if you please, you
may suspend your belief until you see the same. Lord Lifford danced
with Lady Fanny Manners; when they came to an easy dance my dear duke
took her from my lord, and I must confess it became him better than
the man I wish to be my friend, Sir Robert, which you will easily
believe. Mr. Henry Pelham[48] danced with Lady Albemarle, Lord James
Cavendish with Lady Middleton, and Mr. Lumley with Betty Spence.

“I paid my court sometimes to the carders, and sometimes to the
dancers. The Queen told Lord Lifford that he had not drunk enough
to make him gay, ‘and there is honest Mr. Wentworth has not drunk
enough’. I told her I had drunk her Majesty’s health; ‘And my
children’s too, I hope?’ I answered ‘Yes’. But she told me there
was one health I had forgot, which was the Duke and Duchess of
Newcastle’s, who had entertained us so well. I told her I had been
down among the coachmen to see they had obeyed my orders to keep
themselves sober, and I had had them all by the hand, and could
witness for them that they were so, and it would not have been decent
for me to examine them about it without I had kept myself sober, but
now that grand duty was over, I was at leisure to obey her Majesty’s
commands. There stood at the farther end of the room a table with
bottles of wine for the dancers to drink, and I went and filled a
bumper of burgundy and drank the duke’s and duchess’s health to Mr.
Lumley, and told him I did it by her Majesty’s command, and then I
went to the dancers, and he to the Queen, and told her I had done so.
When I came to her again she told me she was glad I had obeyed her
commands, and I thanked Mr. Lumley for the justice he had done me in
telling it to the Queen, which drew this compliment from him, that he
should always be ready to do me justice, or any service in his power.
I beg my son may have no occasion to grieve that I have now and again
taken a glass too much, for in my cups I shall call upon Mr. Lumley
to remember me, and ’tis through these merry companions, or through
rich friends that services are done for people.

“The Queen and the Prince have invited themselves to the Duke of
Grafton’s hunting seat, which lies near Richmond, Saturday. He fended
off for a great while, saying his house was not fit to receive them,
and ’twas so old he was afraid ’twould fall upon their heads. But his
Royal Highness, who is very quick at good inventions, told him he
would bring tents and pitch them in his garden, so his Grace’s excuse
did not come off; the thing must be Saturday.

“I have sent you enclosed a copy of my letter I wrote to Lord
Pomfret, which will explain to you how I am made secretary to the
Queen,[49] and before dinner, under pretence to know if I had taken
her Majesty’s sense aright, her Royal Highness (the Princess Royal)
being by when I received the orders, I desired leave to show it her.
She smiled and said: ‘By all means let me see it’. She kept it till
she had dined, read it to the Queen, her brothers and sisters, and
then sent for me from the gentlemen ushers’ table, and gave it to me,
again thanked me, and said it was very well writ, and she saw too
that I could dine at that table without being drunk at free cost.”

“KENSINGTON, _September 2nd, 1729_.

“Yesterday when the Queen was just got into her chaise there came a
messenger who brought her a packet of letters from the King with the
good news that his Majesty was very well. He had left him at the play
this day se’nnight. It also said the guards of Hanover were not to
march, for all differences were accommodated between the King and the
King of Prussia, so that I hope now the match will go forward[50] and
that we shall soon have the King here. The Queen opened the letter
and read it as she went along; the Princess [Anne] and the Duke [of
Cumberland] were riding on before, and neither saw nor heard anything
of this. Therefore I scoured away from the Queen to tell them the
good news, and then I rode back and told the Queen what I had done,
and that I had pleasure to be the messenger of good news. She and
they thanked me and commended what I had done. I have sent you a copy
of the orders I have been given to-day that you may see we go in for
a continual round of pleasure.”

“KENSINGTON, _September 16th, 1729_.

“There was one Mr. W(entworth) who had a very agreeable present
from the Queen. As he went over with her in the ferry boat Saturday
s’ennight she gave a purse to Princess Anne, and bade her give it to
Mr. W(entworth). Then she told him she wished him good luck, and in
order that she might bring it to him, she had given him silver and
gold, a sixpence, a shilling, and a half-guinea. He took the purse,
and gave her Majesty a great many thanks. ‘What,’ said she, ‘will you
not look into’t?’ His answer was: ‘Whatever comes from your Majesty
is agreeable to him;’ though if he had not felt in the purse some
_paper_, he could not have taken the royal jest with so good a grace.
There was a bank bill in’t, which raised such a contention between
him and his wife that in a manner he had better never have had it.
He was willing to give her half, but the good wife called in worthy
Madam Percade to her assistance, and she determined to give a third
to her.

“All this was told the Queen the next day, and caused a great laugh,
but put poor Mr. W(entworth) upon the thought of soliciting the great
Lord L(ifford) for a sum of £15 he had forgotten to pay him in the
South Sea. When the chase was over the Prince clapped Mr. W(entworth)
on the back and wished him joy of his present, and told him now
he would never be without money in his pocket. He replied if his
Highness had not told him so publicly of it, it might have been so,
but now his creditors would tease every farthing from him.”

The King who had been at Hanover five months now made ready to return to England.[51] He had greatly enjoyed his visit to the Electorate, and had given several fêtes, including a farewell masquerade in the gardens of Herrenhausen, where the hedges of clipped hornbeam acted as screens and the grass as a carpet; the whole scene was illuminated by coloured lights.[52] The King followed at Hanover the same clockwork rule he had established in England. “Our life is as uniform as that of a monastery,” wrote one of the King’s English retinue who was lodged at the Leine Schloss. “Every morning at eleven and every evening at six we drive in the heat to Herrenhausen through an enormous linden avenue; and twice a day cover our coats and coaches with dust. In the King’s society there is never the least change. At table, and at cards, he sees always the same faces, and at the end of the game retires into his chamber. Twice a week there is a French theatre; the other days there is a play in the gallery. In this way, were the King always to stop in Hanover, one could take a ten years’ calendar of his proceedings, and settle beforehand what his time of business, meals, and pleasure would be.”

It was during this visit of George the Second to Hanover that his dispute with the King of Prussia came to a crisis. The King of England resented the King of Prussia’s connivance at his son Frederick’s disobedience, but he could hardly make that the ostensible pretext for a quarrel, so he raked up the old grievance of the Prussians having kidnapped some of his tall Hanoverians for the Potsdam regiment of guards, and so violent grew the altercation, and so insulting were the messages of the King of Prussia, that the choleric little George sent him word challenging him to single combat at any place he would name, and leaving him the choice of weapons. It would have been a boon to Europe in general, and to England and Prussia in particular, if these two royal combatants had met and killed one another as they threatened to do, but unfortunately such a desirable consummation was prevented by Lord Townshend, whose remonstrances resulted in a compromise being patched up between the illustrious cousins. In fact, so amicably were matters settled that pretended negotiations were again set on foot for the marriage of the Prince of Wales with Wilhelmina. The Prince professed himself most eager for the match, and wrote to Hotham, the special envoy at Berlin: “Please, dear Hotham, get my marriage settled, my impatience increases daily, for I am quite foolishly in love”. Wilhelmina, however, says that she did not credit these romantic sentiments, and she thought they were due rather to obstinacy than love. Her father was quite indifferent as to whether the Prince of Wales’s desire to wed his daughter proceeded from love or obstinacy; all he wished was that Wilhelmina should be taken off his hands, and given a suitable establishment. King George had the same feeling about Amelia, whom he still desired to marry to the Crown Prince. The King of Prussia’s answer to this was: “I will agree to my son’s marriage if he is made Regent of Hanover, and allowed to direct the management of the electorate till my death, and if provision is made for his maintenance”. These terms were, of course, impossible, and the matter came to an end.

The King quitted Hanover with regret, and commanded that everything should remain at Herrenhausen precisely the same as when he was there. The pomp and circumstance of the electoral court suffered no abatement in his absence; the splendid stables containing eight hundred horses were maintained at their full strength, and the chamberlains, court marshals, and others continued to receive their full salaries. The King appointed no regent over the electorate in his absence; his uncle, the Duke of York was dead, and his son, the Prince of Wales, was now in England, so he placed the government of the electorate in the hands of a council of regency, and as a substitute for his own most gracious presence at the levées the King’s portrait as Elector was placed upon the vacant throne in the state room at Herrenhausen. Every Saturday a levée was held as though the Elector (for they did not officially recognise the King of England at Hanover) had been there, and the courtiers assembled and made their bow to the picture on the chair of state just as though it had been the Elector himself. This absurd ceremony continued through George the Second’s reign, except when he was at Hanover.

The King landed at Margate on September 11th, and at once posted to London, where his Queen and Regent was eagerly expecting him. So anxious was she that when the outriders came on ahead to Kensington Palace to announce that the King was nearing London, the Queen set out on foot, accompanied by all her children, and walked from Kensington, through Hyde Park, down Piccadilly to St. James’s Park where she met the King’s coach. The King stopped, alighted, and heartily embraced his consort in the sight of all the people. Then he helped her back into the coach, when they drove off to Kensington together amid the cheers of the populace, followed by other coaches containing the King’s suite and the princes and princesses. The devotion which the Queen showed to the King and the evident affection he bore her are the best features (one might almost say the only good features), of the Court of England at this period. Peter Wentworth, who writes to his brother of this royal meeting, says: “The King is happily arrived.... You see I am got into the prints by the honour the Queen did me, alone of all her servants, to send me to meet the King. I was the only gentleman servant with her when she walked, Monday se’nnight, with all her royal children, from Kensington Gardens quite to the island of St. James’s Park. Passages there are better told than writ, which I design myself the honour to do very soon--though I find virtue retires no more to cottages and cells, but secure of public triumph and applause, she makes the British Court her imperial residence.”

The next day, at a meeting of the Privy Council, the Queen, kneeling, delivered her commission of regency back into the King’s hands, and rendered him an account of her stewardship.

FOOTNOTES TO BOOK III, CHAPTER V:

[39] _Daily Post_, 5th July, 1729.

[40] Lord Townshend to Poyntz, 14th June, 1728.

[41] Letter of Peter Wentworth to Lord Strafford, 31st July, 1729.

[42] Chamberlain to the Queen.

[43] On the 5th September, 1724, King George I., attended by many of the nobility and gentry, dined with Lord Orkney at Clieveden, where he was magnificently entertained.

[44] _Suffolk Correspondence._

[45] These letters are preserved in the Manuscript Department of the British Museum. Some of them have been published in the _Wentworth Papers_, but many of those quoted here have never been printed.

[46] One of the Bubble schemes.

[47] Claremont was one of the seats of the Duke of Newcastle.

[48] The Right Hon. Henry Pelham, son of Lord Pelham and brother of Thomas Pelham, Duke of Newcastle, whose title had been revived in his favour by George the First.

[49] This was probably a practical joke played on Peter Wentworth, as he never held the office of secretary to the Queen.

[50] The double marriage scheme which had cropped up again for a brief space.

[51] Thackeray inaccurately says that “in the year 1729 he (King George II.) went over two whole years, during which time Caroline reigned for him in England, and he was not in the least missed by his British subjects”. The King was only away from March to September, 1729, and then returned to England, where he remained until 1732, when he again went to Hanover.

[52] _Vide_ Vehse, _Geschichte der Deutschen Höfe_.