Lewis Melville

THE KING'S RECOVERY

When it could no longer be doubted that George was incapable of transacting business, ministers were confronted with the very difficult problem: how was the King's Government to be carried on? and their trouble was the greater because it could not be said with any certainty whether the disorder was temporary or whether it was likely to be permanent. If there was the chance of a speedy cure, then, of course, nothing need be done; but if, on the other hand, recovery was impossible, or, at best, a matter of many months, then some step must be taken, and that that step must be a regency and that in the first instance the office must be proffered to the Prince of Wales was patent to all. This was very distasteful to Pitt and his colleagues for they saw clearly that the passing of a Regency Bill would in all probability be the signal for their dismissal, since the Prince was an ally of the Whigs and the bosom friend of Fox and Sheridan, and they saw it was their interest to delay as long as possible the introduction of such a measure.

From an engraving by W. Tomkins

GEORGE III

In July, Parliament had been prorogued to November 20, and when it met on that day, Pitt, after explaining the situation, secured an adjournment to December 4, in order that an examination of the physicians might be made by Privy Council. In the interval Dr. Warren told him that "the physicians could now have no hesitation in pronouncing that the actual disorder was that of lunacy; that no man could pretend to say that this was or was not curable, that he saw no immediate symptoms of recovery; that the King might never recover; and, on the other hand, that he might recover at any one moment." After this official pronouncement delay was no longer possible, and when the House reassembled on December 4, Pitt stated he had taken steps to ascertain the exact condition of the King, moved for the report of the examination of the physicians, which had been held before the Privy Council on the previous day, and proposed that it should be taken into consideration on the following Monday.

To each physician the same questions had been put: Do you think his Majesty's present disorder incapacitates him for public business? Do you think his Majesty's disorder a curable or incurable malady? Can you take upon you to say in what time the malady may be removed? Each physician replied that the King was quite incapable of transacting business, and that, although the malady was curable, it was impossible to say when the disorder might be removed.

On the Monday when the report was to be taken into consideration, however, the general sense of the House seemed to be that in a matter of such magnitude it was advisable that the House itself should examine the physicians, and this was thought the more desirable because since the examination of the Privy Council Dr. Willis and Dr. Gisborne had been called in. A committee of twenty-one members was appointed on December 8 to hear the doctors' opinions, which were naturally identical with their previous pronouncements, with which Willis agreed, except that he was emphatic in his conviction of the speedy recovery of the King; and two days later the Committee made its report to the House. It is not necessary to go into the details of the struggle between the Government and the Opposition: how Pitt proposed a committee to report on precedents of measures to carry on the government when the personal exercise of the royal authority had been prevented by infancy, sickness, infirmity, or other causes: and how Fox interrupted the harmony of the proceedings by asserting the right of the Prince of Wales to the regency. It may be pointed out that there was something behind this bold assertion, for, since the heir-apparent was the natural selection for the office, Fox would scarcely otherwise have raised the point. It was indeed a foregone conclusion that the Prince would be regent, but the point at issue was whether the regency should be restricted or unrestricted. Pitt, left to himself, would undoubtedly impose conditions, but if Fox could impress the House with the belief that the Prince had the right to the office, then the regency would doubtless be unfettered. It has usually been assumed when Fox put forward his view he made a blunder—and if we regard it as a blunder, it was a very bad one; but is it not more likely that the right was claimed, merely as a tactical move in the parliamentary warfare? It had the great advantage that the party advancing the theory could lose nothing by it, for the Prince must be offered the regency, while if the bluff were successful, the regency would be unrestricted.

However this may have been, Fox's attempt raised a tremendous outcry, and the Prince (among whose qualities loyalty was not included) instructed the Duke of York to say in the House of Lords that, "His Royal Highness understands too well the sacred principles which seated the House of Brunswick on the throne of Great Britain, ever to assume or exercise any power, be his claim what it may, not derived from the will of the people, expressed by their representatives and your lordships in Parliament assembled."

Pitt now introduced resolutions for a restricted regency, and these, in spite of violent protests in both chambers,[259] were finally agreed to on December 30, when they were submitted to the Prince of Wales. The Prince had repeatedly stated he would under no circumstances accept the office if the exercise of power was hampered with restrictions. Such conditions, which were only to endure for a limited time, were, however, regarded as essential in the interest of the King should he recover, and ministers would not give way. Indeed, the Prince's threats were regarded, we have been told by a contemporary, "as nothing more than a bully intended to influence votes in the House of Commons. If, however, he should be so desperate, I should hope that there would be every reason to believe the Queen would be induced to take the regency in order to prevent the King's hands being fettered for the remainder of his life."[260] In the end, as every one expected, the Prince yielded under protest, whereupon Pitt at once introduced a Regency Bill, which, after a most acrimonious struggle, passed the Commons on February 12, and was carried to the House of Lords.

In the meantime the King's condition had been gradually improving. At a further examination of the physicians on January 7, although Dr. Warren and Sir George Baker were far from confident, Willis considered recovery certain. "A little more time is all I ask," said the latter. "Even as days go on I do not despair."[261] Willis stated that whereas a fortnight earlier, his Majesty would take up books but could not read a line of them, now he could peruse several pages and make sensible remarks upon the subject, that he was less excited and less frequently required restraint, and "in the main his Majesty does everything in a more rational way than he did, and some things extremely rational."[262]

George's senses were certainly returning to him. One day he desired to have £400 from his Privy Purse, and this he divided into different sums, and wrapped them up in separate papers upon which he wrote the names of persons to whom he was accustomed to make monthly payments. He then wrote down the different sums, and the names, added them up, as had been his custom, and ordered the money to be paid immediately as it was then due.[263] Another incident that occurred at this time was subsequently related by the Princess Royal. Dr. Willis had refused to let George read "King Lear," but the patient outwitted the doctor by asking for Colman's works, in which he knew he would find the play as altered by Colman for the stage. When the three elder Princesses went in to the King, he told them what he had been reading. He said, "It is very beautiful, very affecting, and very awful," adding, "I am like poor Lear, but thank God, I have no Regan, no Goneril, but three Cordelias."[264]

The King's recovery was proceeding apace, but when Dr. Willis was inclined to believe the disorder had all but passed, a new obsession arose. George had long been attracted by the stately beauty of Lady Pembroke,[265] and now he fancied himself divorced from the Queen, whom he called the Queen Dowager, and the other Queen Elizabeth, and said between them he was pulled to pieces, and then what was to become of poor Pill Garlick.[266] "His Majesty could not be prevailed upon, indeed he absolutely refused, to see the Queen!" Mrs. Papendiek noted. "He said that he had always respected her and had paid her every attention, but when she should have screened his malady from the public she had deserted him to the care of those who had used him ill, insomuch as they had forgotten him to be their sovereign; that he had always felt a great partiality for Queen Elizabeth, and with her, upon a proper agreement, he would end his days."[267] However, this delusion began to give way, and soon he consented to receive the Queen daily, "if she has no objection to see me in the abject state in which I must appear before her," he said pathetically; but he was not yet cured, and still rambled and had a slight return of fever. Gradually, however, his strength returned, and by slow degrees he was led to resume his former habits. On February 14 Miss Burney stated triumphantly, "The King is infinitely better," and four days later she gave vent to a pÆan of joy: "This was a sweet, and will prove a memorable day: the Regency was put off in the House of Lords, by a motion from the Chancellor. Huzza! Huzza! And this evening, for the first time, the King came upstairs, to drink tea with the Queen and Princesses in the drawing-room! My heart was so full of joy and thankfulness, I could hardly breathe! Heaven—Heaven be praised! What a different house is this house become!—sadness and terror, that wholly occupied it so lately, are now flown away, or rather are now driven out; and though anxiety still forcibly prevails, 'tis in so small a proportion to joy and thankfulness, that it is borne as if scarce an ill!"[268]

There was, indeed, no doubt that George was nearly well. On February 14, Henry Addington wrote to his father that "Dr. Warren particularly observes that the appearance of the King's eyes is vastly improved; and his pulse is certainly reduced from 100 to 62 in a minute. The last is the rate of it when in health. It is now generally believed that no change of Government will take place at present;"[269] and three days later Dr. Willis told the Lord Chancellor that the Regency bill ought not to be proceeded with as the King's disorder was practically removed. This Lord Thurlow declined at first to believe, but when the doctor threatened that if his statement was disregarded, he would publish the news of the King's recovery, Thurlow consented to visit the King and judge for himself. "No politics," said the King, when he consented to receive the minister; "my head is not strong enough for that subject."[270] The interview convinced Lord Thurlow that Willis was right, and two days later he rose in the House of Lords to announce a great improvement in the monarch's condition, and adjourned the debate for a week, when the consideration of the bill was not resumed.

On the 20th Lord Thurlow again visited the King, and this time gave him an outline of events that had transpired during his illness. "I never saw at any period, the King more composed, collected, or distinct," the Chancellor told Pitt, "and there was not the slightest trace or appearance of disorder." Three days later the King received the Prince of Wales and the Duke of York, who had repeatedly demanded an interview. "The Queen," Sir Gilbert Elliot has related, "was present, and walking to and fro in the room with a countenance and manner of great dissatisfaction; and the King every now and then went to her in a submissive manner and spoke in a soothing sort of tone, for she has acquired the same sort of drilling over him that Willis and his men have—and the King's mind is totally subdued and in a state of the greatest weakness and subjection. It is given out even by the King's friends that they observed nothing wrong or irrational in this visit, and it is material that they should not be thought to publish the contrary. It is not entirely true, however, as the King made several slips, one of which was that he told them he was the Chancellor. This circumstance is not to be mentioned for the reasons just given."[271] After seeing his sons the King wrote to the Prime Minister for the first time since he had been taken ill.

"It is with infinite satisfaction that I renew my correspondence with Mr. Pitt by acquainting him with my having seen the Prince of Wales and my second son. Care was taken that the conversation should be general and cordial. They seemed perfectly satisfied. I chose the meeting should be in the Queen's apartment, that all parties might have that caution, which, at the present hour could but be judicious.

"I desire Mr. Pitt will confer with the Lord Chancellor, that any steps which may be necessary for raising the annual supplies or any measures that the interests of the nation may require, should not be unnecessarily delayed, for I feel the warmest gratitude for the support and anxiety shown by the nation at large during my tedious illness, which I should ill requite if I did not wish to prevent any further delay in those public measures which it may be necessary to bring forward this year; though I must decline entering into a pressure of business, and, indeed, for the rest of my life, shall expect others to fulfil the duties of their employments, and only keep that superintending eye which can be effected without labour or fatigue."

The last bulletin, signed by Dr. Willis, Sir George Baker, and Sir Lucas Pepys, and announcing "the entire cessation of his Majesty's illness" appeared on February 26; and on March 2 an order was issued by the Privy Council to discontinue the form of prayer for the recovery of his Majesty's health, and substitute a prayer of thanksgiving. On March 7 the Speaker of the House of Commons and several members of the Administration saw the King when "it was observed by all that his Majesty never appeared more healthy, easy, and cheerful, within their recollection[272];" and on the 10th the Speech from the Throne, delivered by commission, stated that the King had resumed his authority, and that day was given up to rejoicing. "London displayed a blaze of light from one extremity to the other; the illuminations extending, without any metaphor, from Hampstead and Highgate to Clapham, and even as far as Tooting; while the vast distance between Greenwich and Kensington presented the same dazzling appearance. The poorest mechanics contributed their proportion, and instances were exhibited of cobblers' stalls decorated with one or two farthing candles."[273]

On March 11 George received an Address of the Lords and Commons on his recovery, on the 13th the congratulations of the corps diplomatique, and on the next day went to Windsor, when "All Windsor came out to meet the King. It was a joy amounting to ecstasy. I could not keep my eyes dry all day long. A scene so reversed—sadness so sweetly exchanged for thankfulness and delight!"[275] Everywhere there was rejoicing, Ambassadors and Ministers gave banquets to celebrate the occasion, and there were fÊtes at Court and balls at the clubs.[276] The dislike of the populace to the King had disappeared entirely, and their hearts had gone out to him in his time of trouble. Sir Lucas Pepys told Miss Burney that if George died the lives of himself and his colleagues would be in danger, for they received threatening letters daily. Sir George Baker was stopped by the mob, and when in reply to an inquiry he answered, "The case is a bad one," "The more shame for you," came angry cries from all sides. But the greatest outburst of enthusiasm was on St. George's Day (April 23), when the King went in state to St. Paul's "to return thanks to God for His mercy in giving the King his health and reason once more." The physicians and others, fearful of the possible effects of the excitement, endeavoured to dissuade the King from participating in this public ceremony, but in vain, "My Lord," said George to the Archbishop of Canterbury, "I have twice read over the evidence of the physicians on my case, and if I can stand that, I can stand anything."