Stanley was at the organ, and Cramer, the king's master, at the piano. Crosdill was the violoncellist, and Miss Linley, it was said, sang. The queen declared her intention of visiting the theatres once a week, and would select her own plays. There may have been a humorous apropos in her earliest choice, "Rule a wife, and have a wife.” We may assume that the plot and dialogue must have been explained to her beforehand. The rough Lady Townshend, whose "good things" were being circulated, on hearing that Lady Northumberland had been appointed a lady of the bedchamber, declared that it was quite proper, for as the queen knew no English, that lady would teach her the vulgar tongue.

CHAPTER IV.

PALACE TROUBLES AND TRIALS.

UNFORTUNATELY, at this opening of her course, there can be little doubt that the life of the young queen was scarcely a happy one. The king was worried with ministerial troubles, and the princess dowager, secure in the support of the favourite Lord Bute, was able to exert all the influence and authority which age and knowledge of the world and the position of a parent would give her over a young and inexperienced couple. The young queen was unable to resist. The creatures of the princess-mother were placed about her, and it was even said that a regular "spy," Miss Dashwood, a beauty of the last reign, was appointed to report to her mother-inlaw. A sort of palace despotism controlled all her actions. The king himself, strongly under his mother's influence, was not inclined to interfere, and assumed that all was done rightly. Already she was not allowed to be too intimate with the English ladies of her household. It was laid down as being formal etiquette of the court that they should not approach her save under the direc

tion of the German attendants. Card-playing, which she loved, was presently interdicted.

Naturally, too, there were the German and the English factions of dependents; each jealously contending for their royal mistress's favour. This rivalry led to very unbecoming contentions, in which her authority suffered; for we find with surprise the common menials and persons scarcely above them arrogantly dictating the terms and conditions of their service, and threatening to go back to Germany unless particular privileges were given them. The poor queen had about as much anxiety and trouble with her dependents as her husband had with his insubordinate ministers or servants.

"The Schwellenberg," who is described as a very shrewd, ambitious woman, and much more capable and active at this time than at the period when we know her so well in Miss Burney's animated pages, when she was borne down with infirmities, now began to take her line at once. She claimed to be called "Madame," to distinguish her from her compatriot Haggerdorn. She fixed that her rooms should be next the queen's, so that no one should gain admittance without first obtaining her "permit." Naturally, people began to complain and grumble at this assumed despotism, and many thus hindered in their approaches took offence. The queen could not afford to lose her two compatriots, and they knew their hold upon her. Gradually the aggressive lady came to be the head of the wardrobe, and was placed, or placed herself, over all the persons employed.

The expenditure then was growing great, for the dresses ordered in profusion were changed every three months, so the severest control and discipline were necessary and duly exercised. The influence of this masterful woman increased daily; by-and-by she no longer dressed the queen, but looked on and directed. Everyone that wanted anything had to propitiate her or ask through her. Thus Nicholay, one of the pages, actually got his four sons provided for, all through the Schwellenberg's agency, while the Papendieck, who had been drawn from Germany by great promises, but did not enjoy her favour, could obtain nothing. Complaints of wranglings soon reached the king, who required that she should be dismissed and sent home. The queen, we are told, was distressed, not so much at losing her best friend, as at the unpleasantness and annoyance which a change would bring about. She interceded with her husband in the presence of the princess dowager his mother, and was told that her lady might remain, but must alter her behaviour. She must not be preferred to others, and not influence the queen. This rough censure, given before one who would have enjoyed it, deeply hurt the young queen. All this business, indeed, it was believed, was got up by the princess dowager, who continued cold and distant to her daughter-in-law.

In due time it was known that the birth of a child was imminent, and on the morning of August 12th, 1762, hurried messengers were speeding to summon the various personages who were entitled to be present

The princess dowager, all the ladies of the court and great officers of State were summoned, but the Archbishop of Canterbury alone was admitted into the royal chamber. Her ladies were obliged to remain in another rcom, the door being left open. At a little after seven the birth took place, and the future Prince of Wales, regent and king, whose erratic course was to bring such trouble and anxieties to his family and to the nation, came into the world. The king presented the messenger who brought him the joyful news with £500.1 Thus the course of good fortune which had attended the new queen was uninterrupted, and the nation was at once gratified.

It might be imagined that this auspicious event might have led to some relaxation of her captivity, but the cordon round her was too strong, and not for some years was her own natural force of character able to assert itself. Of what sort this cordon was we shall presently see.

When Princess Elizabeth was born, May 22nd, 1770, there were some birthday festivities in progress, which the queen could not of course attend. But she sent some birthday verses in honour of the occasion-written from her bed—in pencil. They are not without merit according to the standard of to-day.

1 It was noticed that the queen, departing from the old routine of being assisted by one of her own sex, availed herself of Mr. Hunter's aid. Later, on such occasions there were always crowds of applications for the office of nurse. Once, in 1779, "a female elegantly dressed in blue and silver was introduced into her Majesty's bedroom, who looked at her from head to foot, and dismissed her with the remark, "Your appearance is that of a queen, and not of a nurse!"