Day of Thanksgiving — "Battle for the Standard" — Return of the troops — Frozen game brought over by Esquimaux — The Regent's practical joke — Rejection of the Prince of Orange by the Princess Charlotte, and acceptance of Prince Leopold as her husband — Her marriage — "The R——l Whiskers" — The Regent's yacht.

This new year began well. The 18th of January was chosen as a solemn day of Thanksgiving to the Almighty for the blessings of Peace—a form, which one would have thought, would, out of the commonest sentiment of gratitude, have taken place six months previously, after Waterloo, and the submission of Napoleon; but, of course, gratitude to God must needs be subservient to diplomatic Red Tape; and He had to wait for the expression of the nation's thankfulness. This day was also the Queen's birthday, and the guns were fired, and the coloured lamps were lit at night, in token of the country's joy at having so gracious a person so long spared to them, so "Serve God and honour the Queen" was thoroughly, and properly, carried out at an economical rate. There was also, out of pure generosity, something thrown in. The French Colours, taken at Waterloo, two in number, were deposited in the Chapel at Whitehall. Country newspapers please copy the following: "The ceremony was conducted with perfect order; and, associated, as it was, with the duties of religious worship; the memory of the Contest in which the trophies were won, and the sight of the brave veterans who had survived its carnage, the influence it produced was not of an ordinary nature, but rather approached to a sentiment of sublimity" (Times). Perhaps a portion of the "sublimity" was owing to the fact that the Guards "were dressed in new clothing, with Caps on a new principle, and, as we are informed, far superior in comfort to the wearers."

This Military tailoring is a craze which seizes great minds at times. It has needed the colossal brains of the Duke of York, the Prince Regent (who, when he took to yachting, the Service prayed to be delivered from, in case he should alter their already too expensive uniform), of Albert the Good, whose hat is enshrined in the pages of Punch, and the Duke of Cambridge, whose attention to buttons, and facings, has won him world-wide renown—and everybody is so much better, and more efficient, from the outcome of their laborious study. One of these Eagles was won after a stubborn fight, which would have entitled its Captor to the Victoria Cross, now-a-days. It was the metaphorical captive of the spear and bow of Sergeant Ewart, whose exploit, on his being gazetted Ensign in the 3rd Royal Veteran battalion, is thus contemporaneously chronicled. It was on the 18th of June, and on "the afternoon of that eventful day, the 92nd Regiment, reduced to two hundred, charged a column of the Enemy, from two thousand to three thousand strong; they broke into the centre of the column, and the moment they pierced it, the Scotch Greys dashed in to their support, when both these gallant Corps cheered, and huzzaed 'Scotland for ever!' The Enemy, to a man, were put to the sword, or made prisoners. The Greys, afterwards, charged the second line, which amounted to five thousand men; it was in the first that Sergeant Ewart captured the French eagle; the affair is thus modestly detailed by himself: 'I had a hard contest for it; the officer who carried it thrust for my groin; I parried it off, and cut him through the head; after which I was attacked by one of the lancers, who threw his lance at me, but missed the mark, by my throwing it off with my sword by my right side, then I cut him from the chin upwards, and went through his teeth. Next, I was attacked by a foot soldier, who, after firing, charged me with his bayonet, but I parried it off, and cut him through the head—so that finished the contest for the eagle.'" An incident which is well commemorated by Ansdell, in his picture (1848), the "Battle for the Standard."

The Medals for Waterloo and bars for the Campaign were now being distributed, but it took about forty years to thoroughly give them to their rightful owners;[17] their distribution being about as slow as is naval prize money, or the Banda and Kirwee booty.

The troops were not too quick in coming back from Paris, which they had occupied, and the Foot Guards only returned late in the year of 1815. In fact, in January of this year, they took up their old quarters at Windsor, in presence of the Queen, princesses, and the most puissant Duke of York. They wore laurels in their Caps on this occasion. I do not think they have worn them since.

Judging from our standpoint, one can hardly realize the first importation of frozen meat; and it was duly chronicled as a curiosity: "To such a pitch is mercantile speculation for the luxurious now arrived, that we understand three poor Laplanders have come over in the last packet from Gottenburg, and are on their way to London with five sledges, laden with Lapland Game, consisting of Tjadear (Cock of the Wood), Cappercally Orrar (black cock), SuÖ Ripor (Ptarmigan), Hjarpar (hazel hen), except the black cock all species of the grouse, but now extinct in this country. Those birds are considered the greatest delicacies of the North, and are, we are told, in the highest state of preservation."

This was written at the end of January, and, at the beginning of February, we find that our unfortunate Northern guests had landed on a somewhat inhospitable shore, for they had to pay over £50 duty for imported game, and £10 freight from Harwich to London. But this frozen game was quite novel, and it deserves a contemporary account of what they thought of it at the time. "The state of preservation in which these birds are, is really surprising, after travelling upwards of one thousand miles. They are preserved by being hung up to freeze as soon as killed, and, afterwards, being packed in cases, lined with skin to keep out the air. This process so effectually preserves them, that when the packages are opened, the birds are frozen quite hard; and those packages which are not opened, will continue in this state for some weeks. The mode in which the small birds are dressed in Sweden, is by stewing them in cream, with a little butter in it, after being larded, which, it is said, gives them an exquisite flavour: the large ones are roasted and basted with cream, which is, afterwards, served up with sauce. These Laplanders wear a kind of great coat, made of reindeer skin, with caps and gloves of the same, which gives them a very grotesque appearance: they are very shy of appearing in the streets in this attire, on account of their attracting so many people round them."

This absurdity of charging an import duty on game was enforced, not only in the case of these poor Laplanders, but, at other times: for instance, under date of 24th of February we read: "A greengrocer of Brighton imported twenty partridges and two hares from France, and paid the importation duty on them; he was, notwithstanding, convicted of exposing the said game for sale by the Magistrates at Uckfield, and fined £110, which, being unable to pay, he was committed for three months to Lewes House of Correction."

The Esquimaux stopped all the summer and autumn in England, and were a popular exhibition. They travelled all over the country, and we hear of one of them in the Caledonian Mercury, September same year: "His canoe is esteemed a very great curiosity, weighing only 16lbs., he rows it by one oar or paddle, and is so very dexterous in managing it, that he far outsails any boat with six oars. He is very expert in diving, and also in throwing his darts; he is so fastened to his seat, that he cannot fall out—as a drawer, like the mouth of a purse, girds him about the loins, so that, in an instant, he may be seen to dive under the water, head down, and keel uppermost; again, in the twinkling of an eye, he raises himself erect out of the water, and scuds along as if nothing had happened."

On February 8th the Alceste, sailed from Portsmouth for China, having on board Lord Amherst, appointed Ambassador to that Country, and a numerous suite, the ships also conveying numerous presents for the Emperor. Of this expedition we shall hear more in next year's Chronicle.

The Regent was always being satirized by the publication of some of his own puerilities, or those of his suite, who, of course, took their tone from him. The Brighton Herald is answerable for the following: "A gallant Admiral, residing at the Pavilion, was, a few days since, presented by a certain Great Personage, with a beautiful milk-white mare, which it was stated, had just arrived from Hanover. Nothing was talked of but this fine creature; and every one seemed anxious to have her merits put to the test. The Admiral mounted, tried her in all her paces, and though he could but approve, yet he pronounced her to be greatly inferior to a favourite black mare of his own. The present, however, coming from so high a quarter, was, of course, received with every expression of duty and thankfulness. The long switching tail of the animal, not exactly suiting the Admiral's taste, he sent her to a farrier to have it cropped,—when, lo! he speedily received intelligence that it was a false tail, and that, beneath it, appeared a short black, one. This curious fact led to a minuter inspection, when it was at length discovered that this beautiful white Hanoverian horse was no other than the good-humoured Admiral's own black mare, which had been painted in a manner to elude his detection." Thus it was that "le Roi s'amuse."

But the Regent was fit for better things. On the very same date that the above was recorded, we find that he ordered, at his own expense, a splendid monument to be erected at Rome, in memory of Cardinal York, the last legitimate descendant of the Stuarts.

Another serious event was preparing for him, the marriage of his daughter. We have seen that she would have none of the Prince of Orange—it is not quite certain whether, at this time, she was dotingly fond of him who was to be her partner in life for the brief portion of time allotted her. At all events, he came over here, in February, as the suitor for her hand—arriving on the 21st, and dutifully waited upon "papa" on the 23rd. That his suit would be a prosperous one, there could hardly be a doubt, for he was received by the Duke of Clarence, Sir R. Bloomfield (the Regent's Chamberlain), Count Hardenberg, and the Nobility then residing at the Pavilion.

"Happy's the wooing, that's not long a-doing," says the old rhyme, and this was speedily brought to a conclusion. The Prince paid his devoirs to his future bride, and her "stern parent," and then gracefully retired from the scene. In those days of no Telegraphs, the news of people's happiness, or misfortunes, was longer in reaching them than now, for a King's Messenger had to go to Paris, only to find Prince Leopold gone to Berlin, and to follow him there, in order to tell him that the English Princess Royal had been graciously pleased to accept him for her husband. On the Messenger's return, the consent of the Prince Regent was officially given, and the Lord Chancellor affixed the great Seal to the Marriage Contract.

On Thursday, the 14th of March, Lord Castlereagh appeared at the bar of the House of Commons with the following message from the Prince Regent:

The reply to this piece of blarney was a dutiful, or, more properly speaking, "an humble," address, to the Regent "to return to his Royal Highness the thanks of this House for his most gracious communication of the intended marriage between," &c., &c., "and to express our entire satisfaction at the prospect of an alliance with a Protestant prince of so illustrious a family," &c. &c.—and, as a matter of course, next day the House of Commons did what was expected of them, and voted a grant of £60,000 a year for the young couple, with the addition of a year's income for outfits—£40,000 for furniture, plate, &c.; £10,000 for articles of dress for the princess; and £10,000 to increase her Highness's jewels.

A Bill for his naturalization was brought into the House of Lords on the 26th of March, and was speedily made law. For some reason or other, perhaps because she was the daughter of her mother, the Prince Regent did not like his daughter, and, at this time, his dislike was publicly spoken of. Among other things, she was not allowed to use the Royal livery (scarlet), a petty piece of spite, and the public feeling at this time is very well reflected by the following extract from the Morning Chronicle of the 13th of April:

"When the Prince of Coburg came up from Brighton to the Stud-house in Hampton Park, on Saturday last, he visited both Clermont and Bottleys. The first cannot be let, but may be sold; the second cannot be sold, but may be let. Clermont is a noble house, with a park of about 350 acres, well wooded. The value, including the timber, may be about £50,000. It is seventeen miles from town, and about the same distance from Windsor. But, again, we ask, why purchase such a place when there are so many palaces unoccupied?

"One reason, rather improbable indeed, is given in answer to this question; viz., that the Prince Regent may yet have a son; and that, to set up the Princess Charlotte in royal state as heir apparent to the throne, when, by such an event she might be disappointed of that elevation, would be highly improper. And this reason is given for all the proposed regulations—the revolting title of Kendal—the green livery—the private houses—the restriction of drawing rooms, &c., &c., &c. Is there lurking under this specious pretext of future probabilities any design of a measure[18] (which recent circumstances, we are told, have made practicable) by which they might be realized? But, granting even the event to happen, that, by a second marriage, the Prince Regent should have a son, surely it would then be the proper season to make the arrangements for the Princess Charlotte which are now establishing, and the Prince, her august Consort, might safely rely on the generosity and justice of the Nation for an adequate provision, in any change of circumstances that might affect his fortune, in the proposed union. The subject is too delicate to enlarge upon in a journal, but it is freely discussed in the upper circles, as if it were a matter actually contemplated at Court."

The Royal Marriage Act, which was rendered necessary by the social escapades of the sons of George III. left and still leaves a limited choice of husbands to the female scions of Royalty, and, as they must be Protestants, they are confined mainly to the petty princelets of Germany. Time does not change John Bull's feelings with regard to such marriages, and the satirist from that time to our own, has always ridiculed the comparative poverty of the husbands of our royal womanhood. It was so with Prince Albert, with the Duke of Teck, and the other German princes who have married into our Royal family. John Bull, doubtless from his insular prejudices, does not consider these marriages as equal, and, although he spends the money, he has the grumble thereon to which he considers himself to be entitled.

Hence the satirical print given herewith called "THE CONTRAST! or the Ci-devant German Captain in good Quarters!" May, 1816. One sketch is entitled, "A single life on the Continent, starving on Sour Krout!!" On the ground is a paper "Thoughts on a journey to Wales to seek my fortune, and better my condition." A mouse is nibbling at a "Map of the Principality of Coburg eight hundred square feet." The other is "Comes to England, is made a General,[19] and marries a lady of £60,000 per annum." On the wall is a picture of Camelford House, where the young couple spent their honeymoon; and, as a change from his former meagre fare, is shown a huge piece of roast beef, and Hock, Champagne, and Burgundy in abundance.

Tradesmen were as eager then, as now, to catch hold of anything new—and consequently we find the Kendal scarf being sold, and the Coburg hat and Kendal bonnet, which seem to have been ordinary straw work, but "for superior quality, and pearl-like colour, must, on inspection, have certain claim to universal patronage."

On the 2nd of the "merry month of May" they were married. The bridegroom's costume seems to have been somewhat scanty, but yet he appears to have been rather proud of it, for "Prince Leopold very frequently appeared at the balcony to gratify their curiosity, dressed in a blue coat and a star." "At two o'clock his Serene Highness went in a curricle to Carlton House, and paid a morning visit to his intended bride. He also rode round the exterior of Carlton House to view his new travelling carriage. His Serene Highness afterwards returned to Clarence House a little before half-past three, when the crowd was so numerous, and the anxiety to see him so great, that the footmen, in letting him out of the carriage had nearly been pushed under it. A number of women and children were forced into Clarence House against their will, by the extreme pressure. In a few minutes after, his Serene Highness walked across to York House, when the crowd behaved extremely orderly, and, at the request of a few attendants, formed a clear passage for them to pass through.... The Princess Charlotte of Wales, at four o'clock, went in a carriage to the Queen's Palace, and had the windows down to gratify the curiosity of the crowd in Pall Mall, but they were found to be so extremely numerous, that the coachman could not, with safety, drive through them, and went through the Park. On his coming out to get into his carriage he was assailed by a number of females patting him on the back, and giving him good wishes. This delay gave a number of men an opportunity to take off the traces of the horses, in order to draw the carriage. They were prevailed upon to desist, but they did so (sic) a second time, and the Prince, it is supposed, would have indulged them in their desire, had not accidents been feared, and by exertions of the sentinels the traces were put to the carriage again, and the carriage proceeded to Carlton House amidst the loud huzzas of the populace."

After all this mobbing they got properly married, and set off for Oatland's—the Duke of York's mansion.

The bride was dressed in white llama and silver, and, perhaps, some of my lady readers will be pleased to hear that her frock was "finished with a very brilliant rollio of lama," which must have been very comforting to her. The Queen of Sheba would (to use an Americanism) have to have taken a "back seat" compared to the dear old Queen Charlotte, who must have been "exceeding magnifical." She wore "a beautiful gold tissue, trimmed with a mixture of gold and silver, having two flounces of brilliant silver net-work, richly embossed with stripes of gold lamÉ, and a superb head to the flounces of silver lamÉ border. The whole had a most grand, novel, and magnificent appearance."

The satirical prints may, generally, be taken as a reflex of popular opinion, be it right or wrong, and the Princess was soon credited with having the upper hand in the domestic arrangements of her new household. She is depicted as wearing her husband's breeches, and taking the reins when driving—but this was meant for good-humoured badinage—not like the satires on the Regent, who was lampooned without mercy. His clothes, his personal appearance, even his whiskers were not allowed to pass unscathed—as the following will show:

A life of indolence, and sensual gratification, brought with it its concomitant punishment, and he suffered much from gout. There is a peep at his inner life from a Newspaper paragraph of the 26th of March, dated Brighton: "It is true that the Prince has been on horseback, and has rode for some time about the Pavilion lawn. An inclined plane was constructed, rising to about the height of two feet and a half, at the upper end of which was a platform. His Royal Highness was placed in a chair on rollers, and so moved up the ascent, and placed on the platform, which was then raised by screws, high enough to pass the horse under; and, finally, his Royal Highness was let gently down into the saddle. By these means the Regent was, undoubtedly, enabled to enjoy in some degree the benefit of air and exercise; but the exercise implied little of spontaneous muscular power, and cannot, certainly, be considered as a criterion of renovated strength."

A short trip to sea was suggested as likely to be of benefit to his health, and a Royal Yacht of some three hundred or four hundred tons burden was hauled up and put on the slips at Deptford Dockyard to be entirely new coppered and re-fitted throughout. The estimated cost of doing this was over sixty thousand pounds! of which the gilding alone is supposed to have absorbed nearly thirteen thousand five hundred pounds!! Why! the very blocks to the shrouds and rigging were fully gilt, and the whole of the internal fittings were of the most gorgeous description. The Royal Sovereign was re-launched at Deptford on the 8th of August, 1816, and, when the workmen had done with her, she was ordered round to Brighton, to be at the Regent's disposal.