Illness of George IV. — His death — Sale of his clothes, etc. — The new King — His character.

In the Times of Friday, April 16, 1830, we have the following Court Circular:—

This was the first intimation, to the nation, of the serious condition of George the Fourth. He was paying the penalty for the irregularities of his life, by suffering from a complication of diseases; inflammation of the chest, gout in the stomach, dropsy, ossification of the heart, bile, and asthma. Latterly, he had retired to Virginia water, where he lived at the so-called "Cottage," solaced by the society of Lady Conyngham, and existing chiefly on brandy and curaÇoa. His age (for he was in his sixty-eighth year) was against his recovery, and at 3.13 a.m. on the 26th of June, 1830, he expired. He was in bed when the stroke of death fell upon him. The page next him, instantly proceeded to raise his Majesty, according to the motion which he signified by his finger. The King was, at once, assisted into a chair at his bedside, and a great alteration struck the page, as overcasting the royal countenance; the King's eyes became fixed, his lips quivered, and he appeared to be sinking into a fainting fit. The physicians were instantly sent for, and the attendants at once assisted the King with sal volatile, eau de cologne, and such stimulants as were at hand on the table. At this moment his Majesty attempted to raise his hand to his breast, faintly ejaculating, "O God! I am dying;" and, after a pause of two or three seconds, he uttered the following words, which were his last: "This is death!"

So passed away George the Magnificent—and the Marchioness of Conyngham immediately began to pack up and hurry off, whither, no one exactly knew. What she took with her was never known; but, later on, she had to disgorge some very valuable jewels. Needless to say, there was a grand funeral; and then came the sale of his wardrobe and effects, of which Greville writes[1]:—

"August 3, 1830.—I went, yesterday, to the sale of the late King's wardrobe, which was numerous enough to fill Monmouth Street, and sufficiently various and splendid for the wardrobe of Drury Lane. He hardly ever gave anything away, except his linen, which was distributed every year. These clothes are the perquisites of his pages, and will fetch a pretty sum. There are all the coats he has ever had for fifty years; three hundred whips, canes without number, every sort of uniform, the costumes of all the orders in Europe, splendid furs, pelisses, hunting-coats and breeches, and, among other things, a dozen pair of corduroy breeches he had made to hunt in, when Don Miguel was here. His profusion in these articles was unbounded, because he never paid for them, and his memory was so accurate, that one of his pages told me he recollected every article of dress, no matter how old, and that they were always liable to be called on to produce some particular coat, or other article of apparel of years gone by."

The Times (August 18, 1830) says—

"The late King's wardrobe has been selling, for the last fortnight, at the warehouse of Mr. Bailey, the King's Upholder, in Mount Street, Grosvenor Square. The property was immense. It was the perquisites of the Pages of the Back Stairs, six in number; and we hear that the sale realized £15,000. The Earl of Chesterfield gave 200 guineas for a sable pelisse, which has since been valued at 600, and was a present from the Emperor Alexander. The Marquis of Hertford was among the purchasers. There were many pairs of boots and shoes, which were sold at 5s. per pair, one with the other, to a person in the trade. There were numerous pairs of silk stockings. The cambric and silk handkerchiefs produced a guinea each, although the pages said they were not worth more than 7s. each. The cellar of snuff was bought by Mr. Pontet, of Pall Mall, for £400."

This latter fact is scarcely correct. It was bought by Messrs. Freybourg and Treyer, of the Haymarket, who set apart a special room for its sale.

To finish up with the sale of the royal effects, we read in the Gentleman's Magazine, of June 9, 1831, that—

These prices do not show that the people cared much to possess relics of their late sovereign; indeed, he was speedily forgotten, and all eyes were turned to the rising sun. The newspapers teemed with anecdotes of him, from his childhood upwards (mostly very sorry stuff), and, oblivious of his errors, inanity, and frivolity, the people hailed William (why or wherefore?) as "The Patriot King." Until the death of the Duke of York, he had excited no more public interest than any of the other royal princes; but when that event took place, he was looked upon as heir to the throne, had an increased grant from Parliament, and lived a somewhat retired life at Bushey Park, with his wife, Amelia Adelaide, eldest child of George, Duke of Saxe-Coburg-Meiningen, whom he married on July 18, 1818.

His life, previous to his accession to the throne, is not within the province of this book—it is sufficient to say that at no time was he remarkable for his intellect, tractability, or social manners. Hear what Greville,[3] an acute observer, even if he were somewhat of a cynic, says about him at his accession—

"London, July 16.—I returned here on the 6th of this month, and have waited these ten days to look about me, and see and hear what is passing. The present King and his proceedings occupy all attention, and nobody thinks any more of the late King, than if he had been dead fifty years, unless it be to abuse him and rake up all his vices and misdeeds. Never was elevation like that of William IV. His life has, hitherto, passed in obscurity and neglect, in miserable poverty, surrounded by a numerous progeny of bastards, without consideration or friends, and he was ridiculous from his grotesque ways and little meddling curiosity. Nobody ever invited them into their house, or thought it necessary to honour him with any mark of attention or respect; and so he went on for about forty years, till Canning brought him into notice by making him Lord High Admiral at the time of his grand ministerial schism. In that post he distinguished himself by making absurd speeches, by a morbid official activity, and by a general wildness which was thought to indicate incipient insanity, till shortly after Canning's death and the Duke's[4] accession, it is well known, the latter dismissed him. He then dropped back into obscurity, but had become, by this time, somewhat more of a personage than he was before. His brief administration of the Navy, the death of the Duke of York, which made him heir to the throne, his increased wealth and regular habits, had procured him more consideration, though not a great deal. Such was his position when George IV. broke all at once, and after three months of expectation, William finds himself King."