Royalty – Page 13 – Number One London

Regency Reflections: The First Regency Crisis in 1788-89

George, Princeof Wales as Prince Regent,
by Sir Thomnas Lawrence, c. 1814

This is the first of an occasional series of posts on the English Regency, which began 200 years ago. The Regency has innumerable definitions. In the arts, architecture, society, fashion, decor, and literature, we might date the Regency as being almost the same dates as the long 18th century, from the 1660 Restoration of the monarchy to the accession of Victoria in 1837. Others shorten it to the period between the American War (1776)and/or the French Revolution (1789) to the death of George IV in 1830 and/or William IV in 1837. The official Regency lasted nine years, from 1811-1820, when George III died and the Prince Regent became George IV.

The Regency was many years in the making. In the summer of 1788, King George III suffered what he called a bilious attack. After consultation with his wife, Queen Charlotte, and the royal physicians, the King and his entourage went to Cheltenham spa to take the waters. Though he had temporary relief, when he returned to Windsor in mid-August, things quickly deteriorated. Throughout the next few months, the King’s condition worsened, combining physical and mental problems.

Prim Minister William Pitt

The political world of parliamentary leaders and ministers was alive with rumors and gossip based on long-held political rivalries and ambitions. Richard Brinsley Sheridan, in the absence of Charles James Fox (touring Italy), and other Whigs who enjoyed close friendships with George, Prince of Wales (who would be appointed as regent for his father if the regency bill was passed), were excited. The Whigs could almost taste their return to power. However, the Prime Minister William Pitt, a Tory to the core, saw the matter differently. He willed the King to recover. While stalling for time, a bill setting the conditions and restrictions of the regency was drawn up and debated.

Charles James Fox, Whig leader

The Prince of Wales, age 26, at first tried to stay publicly aloof from the debates. His life, which we have written about elsewhere and will no doubt write about again, was characterized by considerable conflict with his father. George III was strict with his sons, giving them an excellent education and expecting them to behave with propriety. But like the sons of so many English kings, (see The King’s Speech for a more modern example), Prince George chose to go his own way with regard to lady friends, expensive architectural and collecting projects, and disobedience to his father’s desires.

Richard Brinsley Sheridan, Whig leader

The Prince considered himself a highly intelligent and principled connoisseur, a clever wit, and The First Gentleman of Europe. Others considered him self-indulgent, a spendthrift, and insensitive. But like so many sons of kings, he had no real job. He wanted to participate in the wars, and envied his brothers: Frederick’s position in the Army and William’s post in the Navy. In 1785, George married Maria Fitzherbert in a ceremony that defied the laws requiring the monarch’ s approval, which couldn’t have been given because she was a Roman Catholic.

Thomas Rowlandson, Filial Piety (Lewis Walpole Library, Yale University)

Charles James Fox, leader of the Whigs was traveling. His leadership was assumed by Richard Brinsley Sheridan, another Whig whose amorous adventures will fill a future blog. As the months passed without improvement in the King’s health – or ultimate passage of the regency bill, the Prince of Wales began to be more obv
iously interested in his ultimate assumption of power. His interest did not escape the notice of the political satirists, such as Thomas Rowlandson. His Filial Piety, above.

Rupert Everett in The Madness of King George, 3rd from left

By February, the regency bill had passed the House of Commons and was about to be finally debated in the Lords when the King appeared to recover completely. He came back to London and the bill was taken off the Lords’ agenda. A service of Thanksgiving for the King’s Recovery was held at St. Paul’s Cathedral in April of 1789.

These are the events chronicled in the play and film The Madness of King George (1994). Above is a still from the film showing the Prince of Wales as played by Rupert Everett waiting to hear the results of a parliamentary vote. The film is quite accurate in portraying the first regency crisis and the king’s recovery.

A flattering (slimming) portrait of the Prince, c. 1782

We will investigate the next chapter in this drama soon.

Regency Reflections: The Death of King George III

This post may appear a bit backwards, since before we begin our series on the regency of George, Prince of Wales, in a few days, we will mark its ending! The Prince Regent, upon the death of his father, King George III on January 29, 1820, became George IV.

George III, 1809, NPG

George III had been incapacitated for at least nine years. He was blind and deaf; sometimes he knew what was happening around him, other times he was far away in a world of his own. It has been widely accepted that he (and perhaps other members of the Hanoverian royal family) suffered from porphyria, a disease that combined symptoms of both physical and mental illness. The King did not know Queen Charlotte had died in 1818.

Since 1811, his eldest son, George, Prince of Wales, had ruled in his name.

George III by Allan Ramsay, 1762
National Gallery, UK

George III (1738-1820) succeeded his grandfather, George II, in 1760. His father, Frederick, Prince of Wales, had died in 1751. Young and unmarried, George III soon took as a bride Princess Charlotte Sophia of Mecklenburg-Strelitz (1744-1818). They were wed in 1761 and had fifteen children.

Some of us Yanks know King George III as the man who “lost” the North American colonies.” He was the person to whom the Declaration of Independence was addressed. And it is said that the loss of the colonies bothered George III all of his life.

But instead of the tyrant he was assumed to be in the colonies, George III wanted a quiet country life for his family. He was dutiful and loyal. Some called him the Farmer King, for he loved to work on the land. His sons were well educated and given some independence but his daughters, the six Princesses, were forced to conform to the dictates of their father and their mother, Queen Charlotte.

Queen Charlotte by Sir Thomas Lawrence
1789

Of King George III’s fifteen children, twelve were still alive at his death. He had dozens of grandchildren, but almost all of them were illegitimate.

His first illness appeared with a vengenance in 1788 and 1789.
Many of us are familiar with the later years of George III’s life from the play and film The Madness of King George, which was relatively accurate in portraying the crisis. And though he recovered, the illness recurred during the rest of his life. Eventually, in 1811, he gave up power to his son, the Prince Regent, and lived for the rest of his life at Windsor Castle. He was 81 at his death. Frederick, Duke of York, said to be his favorite son, was with him when he died.

The whole British nation mourned the passing of this king, and tens of thousands came to Windsor to observe the funeral procession. George III is buried in St George’s Chapel within the castle walls.
In his excellent biography George III, (published in 1998 in Great Britain by Viking/Penquin and in the US by Basic Books), Christopher Hibbert quotes Mrs. Arbuthnot, close friend of the Duke of Wellington on the kings burial : “And thus has sunk into an honored grave the best man and the best king that ever adorned humanity….who for sixty long years had been a father to his people.”

Below, St. George’s Chapel, Windsor.

George IV, in his Coronation robes

Queen Victoria – In Memoriam

22 January 1901 – The death of Queen Victoria (Alexandrina Victoria German: Alexandrina Viktoria; B. 24 May 1819), who was the Queen regnant of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland from 20 June 1837, and the first Empress of India of the British Raj from 1 May 1876, until her death. Her reign as the Queen lasted 63 years and 7 months, longer than that of any other British monarch before or since, and her reign is the longest of any female monarch in history – Queen Elizabeth’s reign is coming up on 59 years.

God save the Queen!

Another interesting aspect of Victoria’s life was her role as a mother of nine and grandmother of dozens, In two generations. Her progeny ruled a huge chunk of Europe, not to mention the places where the sun never sets.

Right, the Princess Victoria, Princess Royal (1840-1901) was Queen Victoria’s first born. She married German Emperor Frederick III and was the mother of Kaiser Wilhelm II and seven other children who married into a variety of Europoean royal families. This portrait was painted by Winterhalter in 1867 when she was Crown Princess of Prussia.

Edward Albert, Prince of Wales, and later Edward VII (1841–1910) was Victoria’s second child, the longed-for male heir to the throne. He spent most of his life waiting to become king but he reigned only nine years after his mother’s death in 1901.

He and his Queen, Alexandra of Denmark, had six children who also married royals.

Among the descendents of Queen Victoria are the royal families of the United Kingdom, Sweden, Norway, Denmark and Spain. Among those families formerly on thrones, count the ex-royals of Greece, Russia and Romania, not to mention a passle of former principalities.

The Long Lost Story of Prinny's Tailor by Guest Blogger Charles Bazalgette

Charles Bazalgette is at present writing the biography of his great-great-great-great-grandfather Louis Bazalgette (1750-1830), who was tailor to the Prince of Wales (later George IV) for 32 years, but who is quite unknown and has never been mentioned in any books. The only reason why he has been able to piece together his life story is because he researched him from the genealogical angle, a task that has so far taken him 15 years. As Charles told us:

This biography, which is planned to be ready to publish next year, had its origins in my genealogical research into the British branch of the Bazalgette family, of whom Louis (who was born in the Cevennes in southern France) was the patriarch. When researching Louis’ life, apart from the usual vital records, I hit the proverbial brick wall. He was an unknown man. He never got his name in the newspapers, apart from the odd modest donation to charity, and was never mentioned in contemporary accounts, diaries etc., of which I ploughed through a great number. He never advertised, probably because the Prince’s orders for clothes took up all of his manufacturing capacity. The fact that over many years I have been able to piece together his life story is due mainly to the ‘snapping up of unconsidered trifles’ and to painstaking detective work, plus those few measures of luck that lead the researcher up the right path, against the run of the play, which usually consists of Dame Fortune blithely pointing him down the garden variety.

The main point is that it’s very clear that Louis was a self-effacing, discreet and even secretive man. So, having become the Prince’s tailor when the latter was as young as eighteen, he was able to visit him to take and deliver orders almost clandestinely, which of course suited both of them very well, and though the quantity of clothes he supplied was colossal, he passed unobserved. His name did appear in the royal accounts as being owed far more than any other creditor, but otherwise, apart from amassing a large fortune, and then lending money to the Prince and his brothers, as well as to other prominent figures such as Richard Sheridan, unless, like me, you had followed him like a bloodhound, you would never have found this out.

So Louis was (until now) the Unknown Tailor, who made most of Prinny’s clothes from 1780 until at least 1795. By this time, the Prince had met the young Beau Brummell, and under his influence was beginning to look to English tailors for his clothes, and to dress in a more sober style. Another important reason why the Prince’s clothes orders to Louis diminished after 1795 was that he owed so much money to Louis, who had, by the good offices of Thomas Coutts, ensured that these loans were all in the form of debenture bonds, which Prinny (or rather Parliament) could not escape paying, that he needed to spread his debts elsewhere. Nevertheless, Louis continued to supply his fanciful uniforms, and livery for his household, until about 1812.

Louis was therefore the right man at the right time, providing an exclusive service of great quality and efficiency and almost imperceptibly making himself a millionaire, in modern terms, as a result. He was then able, in his unnoticed way, to become a propertied gentleman and to enjoy his dotage as Lord of the Manor of Great Bookham.

A few words about the research I did…I did a great deal of reading around the subject and the period, and fruitless searching for mentions of the tailor Prinny used. All accounts mention the later tailors, such as John Weston, Schweitzer & Davidson etc. I started a chronology of known events in the Louis’ life, which looked rather sparse until I discovered that Louis was a customer of Coutt’s Bank in the Strand. If you are researching a potential customer it is always worth checking with their archivist. I was allowed to examine and photograph the original ledgers, and therefore had all of Louis’ bank statements fron 1792 until 1830. This was before digital cameras so each page was on a 5×7 print. As you can imagine, reading the prints with a magnifiying glass and transcribing all of the entries into the chronology took a great deal of time, but it was worth it because I learned a great deal about his activities, and so was able to research the people mentioned.

Although I used to visit archives personally while we lived in England, we moved to western Canada twelve years ago. Fortunately the growth of the internet the digitization of records, and the arrival of online catalogues etc has done nothing to to harm my research at all. Quite the opposite. I had the first draft almost done, when by mere chance I discovered that all Louis’ accounts with the Prince between 1786 and 1795 were quietly rotting away in a box in the National Archives. I had all 300 pages photographed (digitally this time), and am about half-way through transribing these records. They have added immeasurably to the tailoring content of the book, which previously had been sadly lacking before. I’m quite glad to have discovered these records late in the day, when a lot of the more humdrum work has already been done. It’s like the Devonshire cream on the scone! I have had to learn a great deal about 18th century tailoring in a few months, and am still learning, but it has been quite fascinating.

Some excerpts from the book, and other information on 18th century tailoring, can be found on Charles’ blog.

A Visit to Buckingham Palace

In all my visits to England, I’ve never managed to be in London during public openings of Buckingham Palace. And I didn’t expect it to be open this time over, either. As I mentioned in a previous post, one day whilst in London I strolled across the street from our hotel to the Royal Mews gift shop and while there I overheard one of the ladies who works there telling a man about an unprecedented opening of Buckingham Palace while the family was away over the Christmas holidays. On that day and the next, the Palace would be offering two private, guided, champagne tours each day. Tickets were to be had a few doors down at the Queen’s Gallery. Honestly, dear Reader, no one ever covered the ground between the gift shop and the Queen’s Gallery as quickly as I did that day. I snapped up two tickets to the 4 p.m. tour that very day – by the way, the tickets were enclosed in a really impressive blue envelope, with directions on what forms of I.D. to bring – and then I hightailed it back to the hotel to crow at Greg about my coup. Even he was impressed. And excited.

As instructed, we arrived at the gate on the Queen’s Gallery side of the Palace in Buckingham Palace Road at 3:45. After showing two forms of picture I.D. each, Greg and I were personally escorted to the Ambassador’s Entrance of the Palace and passed through a security screening. Typically, when the Palace is open during the summer, visitors are taken inside in large groups, with over 7,000 visitors coming through in all. Over the two days the Palace was opened in December, just 100 people would have the opportunity to view the interiors. This personalization was evident from the start – we were shown into a waiting area and given upholstered chairs to sit upon until the rest of our group had arrived. Greg and I gawped, goggled, gaped and poked each other in the legs for a while before I turned my head to the right . . . and saw Chantrey’s bust of the Duke of Wellington!

To digress, by this point in our London visit, it had become abundantly clear to Greg that several people other than myself actually knew who the Duke of Wellington was, our having seen Apsley House, the Wellington Arch, Wellington Place, Wellington Street and having had dinner in the Wellington Pub. Vindication at last!

But back to the Palace . . . . once we were all assembled, our tour guide, Dawn, greeted us and took us into an antechamber where a coat check had been set up. We then assembled in a massive hall, where there were full length portraits of Queen Victoria and Prince Albert, amongst others. This chamber opened onto the staircase, below, and we were invited to ascend and stand on either side of the staircase whilst Dawn told us a bit about the paintings – William IV, Queen Adelaide, Prince Leopold, Princess Charlotte, etc. etc. etc. As The British Monarchy Website explains: “Queen Victoria requested that the series of portraits of her immediate family were displayed around the upper part of the stairs. These include her grandparents, George III and Queen Charlotte, her parents the Duke and Duchess of Kent and her predecessor on the throne, her uncle William IV, and his wife Queen Adelaide. Thus the portraits served as a kind of ‘receiving line’ so that whoever climbed the staircase was simultaneously received by her family.”

I should tell you here that in addition to Dawn, there were two other uniformed Palace people attached to our group, one of whom preceeded us and opened the tall, double doors to every room we entered, the other followed our group and closed the doors behind us as we left. And whilst you might think that decorum ruled the visit, you’ll be glad to know that Dawn encouraged us at every step to make ourselves at home – “get up close and get a good look at that painting; do go over to the windows and push the curtains aside for a look at the lawns where the garden parties are held; take a seat – any seat; yes, yes, do go on up to the front and stand where those who are being knighted stand. Terribly fun, is it not?” Greg and I kept catching each other’s eye and making faces. Terribly fun, yes.

Of course, no photos were allowed, and I’ll admit here and now that I could not for the life of me tell you the exact route of our procession through the State Apartments, but here are some photos of some of the rooms we visited. Note: the work of architect John Nash was evident everywhere and his ornate ceilings and fireplaces appeared in almost every room.

The Picture Gallery

Where I saw Winterhalter’s portrait of the Royal Family, above, which Victoria and I had previously viewed at the Victoria and Albert: Art in Love Exhibition at the Queen’s Gallery in June. No, Chuck was not actually present during my tour. More’s the pity.

The White Drawing Room

The Music Room

The State Dining Room

The Blue Drawing Room

Shown above is the old Throne Room, used up until the reign of Queen Victoria, who found it too small and had another built, large enough for dancing. You can’t see it in the photo, but on the wall to the left of the thrones hangs the only portrait in the entire room, shown below.

As Dawn hadn’t mentioned the portrait, I sidled up to her and asked, “Pardon me, but isn’t that a Wellesley?”

“Yes,” Dawn replied, “He was brother to the Duke of Wellington.”

“Elder brother,” said I, “Richard, Lord Mornington.”

“Oh,” said Dawn, “I am impressed.”

Greg was impressed, too. I was a tad depressed. After all, the ability to properly identify Wellesleys isn’t all that impressive as party tricks go. I mean, how often can one flaunt such a talent? And to whom? The ability to eat fire, do bird calls or play the zither would be much handier, but one must be satisfied with one’s lot in life.

This is the new throne room below, where investitures take place and where all the chairs are hauled out and an enormous table laid for State Banquets.

We ended our tour exactly where we’d begun, in the Great Hall, shown below, where flutes of cold champagne were served before we all trooped off to a makeshift giftshop near the cloakroom.

And where I bought myself an official William and Kate wedding tankard. Once we’d collected our coats, Greg and I were each handed an official Buckingham Palace Souvenier Guide and the pair of us were personally escorted out, across the quadrant below