Florizel's Folly

'Brighton. – The Prince and Princess of Wales's arrival has been talked of much in London; but, as yet, we have no signs of it here. The Duke and Duchess of Marlborough pass their time in a very retired manner indeed. His Grace walked for some time yesterday evening upon the Steyne; the company consisted chiefly of opulent Jews, needy fortune hunters, broken down Cyprians, fishermen's daughters, and several fat city dowdies, from the environs of Norton Folgate. Her Grace commands the play on Friday evening, which will be her first appearance in public, here, for this season. The Officers of the Blues are the great dashers of the place; they associate with no one but their own Corps. The most of them keep their blood horses, their curricles, and their girls. At one o'clock they appear on the parade, to hear the word of command given to the Subaltern Guard: afterwards, they toss off their goes of brandy, dine about five, and come about eight to the Theatre. Vivent L'Amour et Bacchus.'

The latter part of this quotation seems to be borne out by the first of 'Twelve Golden Rules for young Gentlemen of Distinction, to be observed at Brighton for the year 1796':

'Young and inexperienced officers must confederate with several of their mess, as young as themselves, and reel into the theatre, during the performance, in a state of assumed intoxication, and be sure to disturb the audience in the most important part of the drama, by taking liberties with any of those Cyprian nymphs who harbour in the green boxes, and are, unhappily, devoted to insult: by this manœuvre, if dexterously managed, they will gain three enormous points; – the first is, the credit of having consumed more wine than their income will allow; the second is, a disposition for unlimited intrigue; and the third is, an opportunity of displaying their contempt for good manners, without any hazard of personal danger. – This behaviour will be totally out of character if any of the parties have seen service, or arrived at the years of discretion.

'N.B. – All descendants, or members of the tribes of Israel, must neither mention lottery tickets, omnium, bonus, scrip, navy, nor exchequer bills; they must pay their tradesmen on Saturdays, laugh at the paschal, eat swine, and shave every day.'

Let us look at Brighton as shown us by a contemporary publication75:

'There are two taverns, namely, the Castle, and the Old Ship, where the richer visitors resort; and, at each of these houses, a weekly assembly is held, where a master of the ceremonies attends, to arrange the parties, not according to the scale of morality, but that of aristocracy. There is a ball every Monday at the Castle, and, on Thursdays, at the Old Ship; every subscriber pays three shillings and sixpence, and every non-subscriber, five shillings; for which they are entitled to a beverage which they call tea and coffee. – The masters of the respective inns receive the profits, except on those nights appointed for the benefit of the Master of the Ceremonies; to whom, all who wish to be arranged as people of distinction, subscribe one guinea – and who would not purchase distinction at so cheap a rate! – Independently of this vain douceur, they must pay most liberally for their tickets! The card assemblies are on Wednesdays and Fridays. – There is a hotel, which was intended for a country Hummums, or grand dormitory; but, in my weak opinion, the establishment is somewhat inefficient, unless it can be supposed that the tumultuous equipment of stage coaches, at the dawn of day, is contributory to the purposes of rest. – There is a theatre, commodious, and, generally, well directed; the nights of performance are Tuesdays and Wednesdays, Fridays and Saturdays. – At the lower end of North Street is a sort of Birmingham Vauxhall, called the Promenade Grove; it is a small inclosure of a paddock, tormented from its native simplicity, befringed with a few gawky poplars, and decorated with flowers, bowers, zigzag alleys, a ditch, and a wooden box for the minstrels. – The coast is like the greater part of its visitors, bold, saucy, intrusive, and dangerous. – The bathing machines, even for the ladies, have no awning, or covering, as at Weymouth, Margate, and Scarborough; consequently, they are all severely inspected by the aid of telescopes, not only as they confusedly ascend from the sea, but as they kick and sprawl and flounder about its muddy margin, like so many mad Naiads in flannel smocks; – the shore is so disastrously imperfect, that those beginners who paddle in, are injured by the shocking repulsion of the juices to the brain; and, of those who are enabled to plunge in, and swim beyond the surge, it is somewhat less than an even bet, that many never return – in truth, the loss of lives here, every season, would make any society miserable, who were not congregating in the mart of noisy folly. – There is a Subscription House, or Temple of Fortune, on the Steyne, where the minor part of our blessed nobility are accustomed to reduce their characters and their estates in the same period; – the signal for admission is habeo, – for rejection, debeo. – There are lodgings of all descriptions and fitness, from twenty pounds per week, on the Cliffs, to half a crown per night in a stable – the keepers of the lodging houses, like the keepers of madhouses, having but one common point in view – to bleed the parties sufficiently. – There are carriages and caravans of all shapes and dimensions, from a waggon to a fish cart; in which you may move like a king, a criminal, or a crab, that is, forwards, backwards, or laterally. – There are two libraries on the Steyne, replete with every flimsy species of novels, involving the prodigious intrigues of an imaginary society; this kind of recreation is termed light reading; perhaps, from the certain effect it has upon the brains of my young country women, of making them light headed! – There is a parish church, where the canaille go to pray; but, as this is on a hill, and the gentry found their Sabbath visit to the Almighty very troublesome, the amiable and accommodating master priest has consigned the care of his common parish mutton to his journeyman, the curate, and has kindly raised a Chapel Royal for the lambs of fashion, where a certain sum is paid for every seat; and this, it must be admitted, is as it should be; as a well bred Deity will, assuredly, be more attentive to a reclining Duchess, parrying the assaults of the devil, behind her fan, than the vulgar piety of a plebeian on his knees. – There were books open in the circulating libraries, where you were requested to contribute your mite of charity to the support of the rector, as his income is somewhat less than seven hundred pounds a year; the last incumbent died worth thirty thousand pounds.'

CHAPTER XV

Reconciliation of the Prince and Mrs. Fitzherbert – Her scruples, etc. – The Prince at Brighton – Satirical prints – The Prince and the Pavilion – Increase of income – The Prince and his regiment – A race – Guests at the Pavilion – The Prince and his daughter

IT was in this year that the separation of the Prince and the titular Princess of Wales was complete, and Florizel's heart (if he had such a thing) went back to his wife. Let us hear Lord Stourton's account of their reconciliation:

'When she thought her connection with the Prince was broken off for ever, by his second union, she was placed by him in difficulties from the same earnest and almost desperate pursuit, as she had been exposed to during the first interval of his attachment. Numbers of the Royal Family, both male and female, urged a reconciliation, even upon a principle of duty.

'However, as she was, by his marriage with Queen Caroline, placed in a situation of much difficulty, involving her own conscience, and making it doubtful whether public scandal might not interfere with her own engagements, she determined to resort to the highest authorities of her own Church upon a case of such extraordinary intricacy. The Rev. Mr. Nassau, one of the chaplains of Warwick Street Chapel, was, therefore, selected to go to Rome and lay the case before that tribunal, upon the express understanding that, if the answer should be favourable, she would again join the Prince; if otherwise, she was determined to abandon the country. In the meantime, whilst the negotiation was pending, she obtained a promise from his Royal Highness that he would not follow her into her retreat in Wales, where she went to a small bathing place. The reply from Rome, in a Brief, which, in a moment of panic, she destroyed, fearful of the consequences during Mr. Percival's administration, was favourable to the wishes of the Prince; and, faithful to her own determination to act, as much as possible, in the face of the public, she resisted all importunities to meet him clandestinely. The day on which she joined him again at her own house, was the same on which she gave a public breakfast to the whole town of London, and to which he was invited.

'She told me, she hardly knew how she could summon resolution to pass that severe ordeal, but she thanked God she had the courage to do so. The next eight years were, she said, the happiest of her connection with the Prince. She used to say that they were extremely poor, but as merry as crickets; and, as a proof of their poverty, she told me that once, on their returning to Brighton from London, they mustered their common means, and could not raise £5 between them. Upon this, or some such occasion, she related to me, that an old and faithful servant endeavoured to force them to accept £60, which he said he had accumulated in the service of the best of Masters and Mistresses. She added, however, that even this period, the happiest of their lives, was much embittered by the numerous political difficulties which frequently surrounded the Prince.'

We can scarcely, nowadays, when the judicial separation of man and wife is an everyday occurrence, and divorce is rendered as easy as possible, properly conceive Mrs. Fitzherbert's feelings in this matter of reconciliation. We must, however, remember that she was a strict Catholic, that her Church teaches that marriage is indissoluble, except by death, and that she invoked and followed the highest ecclesiastical authorities for guidance. Let us hear a modern opinion of her conduct. It occurs in the Dublin Review of October, 1854, p. 21, in a criticism of 'Lord Holland's Memoirs':

'The doctrine of the Catholic Church regarding marriage is plain and simple. She teaches that the marriage contract itself, which is perfected by the words, "I take thee for my wife," on the part of the man, and "I take thee for my husband," on the part of the woman, or by any other words, or signs, by which the contracting parties manifest their intention of taking each other for man and wife, is a sacrament. Protestants are apt to fall into the mistake that it is the priest who administers the sacrament to the wedded pair. He does no such thing. As far as the validity of the contract and of the sacrament is concerned, even when the contracting parties are both Catholics, the priest need not utter a word. His presence is only necessary as a witness to the contract between the parties. Up to the time of the Council of Trent, the presence of a priest was not necessary for the validity of either the contract, or the sacrament. Nor was it by any means to confer the sacrament that the Council enacted a law requiring his presence. The law was made in consequence of the abuses which arose from clandestine marriages, because an immoral person who had married without witnesses, could, afterwards, deny the existence of the contract, and wed another publicly, and in the face of the Church. To prevent this abuse, the Council of Trent enacted that the parish priest of one of the contracting parties, or some other priest deputed by him, and two other witnesses should, for the future (in posterum), be present (præsente parocho) at the marriage contract. The presence of the two other witnesses is required exactly in the same way as that of the parish priest. The law is simply that marriage should be contracted in the presence of three witnesses, one of whom should, necessarily, be the parish priest.

'Nor was this law made, at once, obligatory, even on Catholics. By an ordinance of the Council, it was not to have effect in any parish until thirty days after it had been published there. This allowed a large discretion to each bishop with regard to the time of its publication in his diocese, and, in fact, it is not long since it has been introduced into England.

'But it does not, and never did apply to any marriage in these countries, where one of the parties is not a Catholic. Neither in such marriages, which are called mixed, nor in those contracted between parties, neither of whom belong to the Catholic Church, is the presence of any priest required for the validity of either the contract, or sacrament. It is not even necessary that the contracting parties should know that marriage is a sacrament. The sacrament exists wherever Christians marry as Christ intended; and, if they be properly disposed, they will receive grace to live happily together, and to bring up their children in the fear and love of God.

'Mrs. Fitzherbert's marriage was, therefore, perfectly valid, both as a contract and as a sacrament, in the eyes of the whole Catholic Church, and to imagine that she alone, of all those who professed the same faith, should look upon it as invalid, is monstrously absurd. Neither the Pope, nor the whole Church could have annulled it, nor allowed her to marry another.

'But it was illegal! Why, so was the whole Catholic religion, at the same period. It was, not very long ago, unlawful to celebrate Mass, but the sacrifice was not, therefore, invalidly offered. To say that Mrs. Fitzherbert considered the marriage ceremony to be nonsense, because it was illegal, at the time when the penal code against Catholics – and especially that part of it which regarded matrimony – was in full operation, is about as reasonable, as to prove that she did not believe in transubstantiation, because the law declared it to be damnable and idolatrous.'

For the next two or three years we hear little about the Prince, the newspapers leaving his doings unrecorded. We learn (May 15, 1797) that 'On last Thursday evening, the Prince of Wales, accompanied by a single gentleman, arrived at his Pavilion at Brighton. His Royal Highness, the next day, reviewed the Monmouth and Brecon Militia, on the Downs, near the above place. To-day, we hear, the Prince leaves Brighton, having come there only for a few days, by the advice of Dr. Warren, for the benefit of the sea air. His Royal Highness has lost much of his corpulence since he was last at Brighton.'

He went again, on July 24, to be present at the races, and it is recorded that, on October 23, 'The Prince of Wales amused himself with a day's shooting at Petworth, on an invitation from the Earl of Egremont. The next day, his Royal Highness being on his way to London, with post horses, very narrowly escaped being overturned, about a mile and a half on the other side of Cuckfield, where the horses, by some means, took the carriage off the main road to the side of a bank, and with an inclination that threatened its overturn, for the space of many yards, but fortunately, and owing to the lowness of the carriage, it was kept upon its wheels.'

He was present at the races on August 1, 2, and 3, 1798, and a newspaper remarks that 'The change of society and manners which has taken place at the Pavilion, gives the most heartfelt satisfaction to every lover of his country; it is, now, every way worthy of the Heir apparent of the British Empire.'

In 1799 we hear of him being at Brighton, both in July and October. In 1800 he was at the races in August, when his horse Knowsley won a race. In the 'Brighton New Guide,' fourth edition, there is a good view of the Pavilion as it was in 1800, with the following text:

'Adjoining to Marlborough House stands the Marine Pavilion, built by his Royal Highness the Prince of Wales, in the year 1784.

'This handsome structure extends upwards of 200 feet in front, towards the Steyne; the centre is a circular building, with a lofty dome, supported by pillars; on each side are two elegant rooms on the ground floor, with bed chambers over them: in addition to these, in the spring of 1802, two wings were added, which gives a light, airy appearance to the building; gravel walks, grass plats, and plantations towards the Steyne, add a great degree of elegance to the whole.

'The front, towards the street, forms a square, with a handsome colonnade in the middle, supported by columns; in the wings are commodious apartments for his Royal Highness's suite; in the court is the figure of a negro supporting a dial, executed in a superior style of beautiful sculpture.'

The Prince was at Brighton in 1801. Vide the following extract from a newspaper:

'Rejoicings for Peace. Oct. 14. – On Monday, the joyful tidings of Peace were celebrated here; the bells rang from six in the morning till twelve at night; never was the satisfaction of the people more fully displayed. Young and old wore ribbons emblematic of the occasion – Peace and Plenty! The sea fencibles fired a feu de joie, marched from thence to the Prince's house, and gave him three loud huzzas: with that liberality which has ever marked our Royal guest, he ordered them two hogsheads of beer. Brilliant illuminations took place in the evening; the whole town appeared in a blaze. The most distinguished were those of his Royal Highness the Prince of Wales, flambeaux burning round his house, and every window lighted. This happy day closed with a ball and supper at the Castle, attended by near five hundred visitors; at one o'clock the room was opened with the most sumptuous entertainment; every delicacy that could be procured.'

The Prince was in Brighton in 1802, and in the latter part of the year hunted almost daily with his harriers, and had concerts at the Pavilion two or three times a week. He left it for the season on December 27.

A newspaper cutting tells us that 'The charitable donations and willing assistance which Mrs. Fitzherbert has bestowed, and continues to bestow on the unfortunate individuals of this place, have justly endeared her to the inhabitants of every description.'

But the miserable caricaturist, who knew nothing of her noble nature, depicts her in a scurrilous drawing (October 21, 1802), entitled 'A Brighton Breakfast, or Morning Comforts.' Mrs. Fitzherbert and Lady Lade are at breakfast; Mrs. Fitzherbert is pouring Hollands into a huge tumbler labelled 'Comfort,' and says, 'Won't you take another Comforter? We must make haste, I expect Noodle here presently.' Lady Lade, who takes Brandy, says, 'I think your Comforters are bigger than my John's.'

The next day brought out another satirical print, indicative of the Prince's intimacy with the Lades. It is called 'Birds of a Feather Flock Together; Diversions of Brighton.' Sir John Lade and the Prince are on the box of an open carriage, in which are seated Mrs. Fitzherbert and a lady (Miss Snow). Sir John is lashing one of the four horses, and says to the Prince, 'There, B – t it, don't you see? that's the Cut.' Miss Snow observes to Mrs. Fitzherbert, 'Did Noodle bring your physic this morning?' To which she replies, 'Oh, yes, he calls regularly every morning.'

We read in the Sussex Weekly Advertiser (February 28, 1803) that 'The Prince's Pavilion at Brighton is undergoing other considerable alterations and improvement, under the direction of Mr. Holland, the architect; and is ordered to be got ready for the residence of his Royal Highness, at an early part of the ensuing season.'

On October 14, 1800, just before Weltje died, the Prince took from him a lease of the Pavilion for ninety-nine years at a rent, annually, of £1,150, and on April 18, 1803, he went to Brighton to see how the alterations were getting on. 'His Royal Highness slept at the house, late Weltje's, adjoining the Pavilion, the repairs and alterations of which are not yet completed. The Prince, after minutely inspecting the works going on, returned to town on Thursday.'

In this extravagance he was somewhat justified, for on February 16 the Chancellor of the Exchequer brought before the House of Commons the following message from the King:

'George R.

'His Majesty having taken into consideration the period which has elapsed since the adoption of those arrangements which were deemed, by the wisdom of Parliament, to be necessary for the discharge of the incumbrances of the Prince of Wales; and, having adverted to the progress which has been made in carrying them into effect, recommends the present situation of the Prince to the attention of this House.

'Notwithstanding the reluctance and regret which his Majesty must feel in suggesting any addition to the burthens of his people, he is induced to resort, in this instance, to the experienced liberality and attachment of his faithful Commons, in the persuasion that they will be disposed to take such measures, as may be calculated to promote the comfort, and support the dignity of so distinguished a branch of his Royal Family.'

On February 23 the House went into Committee to consider the King's message; and the Chancellor of the Exchequer (Addington) pointed out that on the 5th of the previous January £563,895 had been paid off the Prince's debt of £650,000, and that the whole would be discharged in July, 1806. He moved 'That his Majesty be enabled to grant a yearly sum, or sums of money, out of the Consolidated Fund of Great Britain, not exceeding, in the whole, the sum of Sixty thousand pounds; to take place, and be computed from the 5th day of January, 1803, and to continue until the 5th day of July, 1806, towards providing for the better support of the station and dignity of his Royal Highness, the Prince of Wales.' This resolution was agreed to.

In September, 1803, the royal stables, now the Dome, were commenced, and that the Prince was there in October we have evidence in the following newspaper cutting:

'Oct. 2. – The Prince of Wales, at the conclusion of the Concert at the Pavilion, some time after midnight, on Thursday last, addressing himself to Colonel Leigh, expressed an anxious desire to know in how short a time his regiment of dragoons could be under arms, and ready to face the enemy, should necessity require their exertions in the night. The Colonel immediately proposed, as the best method of satisfying his Royal Highness, instantly to ride to, and order an alarm to be sounded at the barracks; and, afterwards, to return, and give his Royal Highness a correct account of the conduct of his troops. This measure being approved by the Prince, the Colonel's horse was soon brought to the door, and he set off, with all possible speed to see it carried into effect.

'On reaching the advanced guard at the entrance of the barracks, the Colonel commanded a black trumpeter on duty, to sound to arms. The man, in obedience to the mandate, raised the trumpet to his lips; but the surprise of the moment so greatly overpowered him, that he wanted breath to put it in execution. An English trumpeter, who overheard the order, as he lay in bed, in an instant arose, dashed open the window of his room, and without waiting for further advice, put the bugle to his mouth, gave the proper signal, and the troops, in every part, were, in an instant, in motion. The greater part of the soldiers had been in bed many hours; the whole of them were properly accoutred, and on their horses, together with the flying artillery, in readiness to depart, in time sufficient to have reached Brighton within 15 minutes after the bugle gave the alarm. The barracks are situated something better than a mile and a half to the north of the town.'

The following excerpt from the Annual Register shows the diversions of Brighton:

'Aug. 20, 1803. – A whimsical exhibition took place on the race ground at Brighton. Captain Otto, of the Sussex Militia, booted, and mounted by a grenadier of 18 stone weight, was matched to run 50 yards, against a poney, carrying a feather, to run 150; but Capt. Otto's rider tumbled over his neck, which he was very near cracking; and, consequently, he lost the bet. The next match was, the same gentleman, mounted by the same grenadier, to run 50 yards, against a noble lord, carrying a feather, who was to run 100. He was considerably distanced by the latter.'