Read Online The King's Mistress: The True & Scandalous Story of the Woman Who Stole the Heart of George I by Claudia Gold - Free Book Online
Authors: Claudia Gold
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thing
To draw the man who loves his God, or king,
Alas! I copy (or my draught would fail)
From honest Mah’met, or plain Parson Hale.
Mehemet and Mustapha were also immortalized by William Kent in his glorious mural on the grand staircase at Kensington Palace, with the Turkish touches in Mehemet’s dress adding to his exoticism. In the mural, alongside the two Turks and George’s jester-dwarf, Kent shows Peter the Wild Boy, a feral child, possibly mentally disabled, who had been abandoned by his parents and was living in the woods in northern Germany. George brought him over to England, where he was treated as a curiosity at court. In the minds of many Englishmen, particularly the Jacobites, this strange group – ‘heathen’ Turks, a dwarf, a ‘Wild Boy’, a half-sister who all thought was a mistress, and Melusine, who many laughedat simply because she was ageing yet continued to captivate the king – were established as corrupt and bizarre, in antithesis to poor, beautiful, imprisoned Sophia Dorothea.
Melusine also brought her favourite German servants to London with her, but she was typically discreet about her household, and many of their names are lost to us. We do know that in December 1721, one of the women on her staff won the lottery. The Daily Post reported: ‘We hear that the prize of 300 l. per annum for life that was drawn in the York Buildings Lottery on Wednesday last, fell to the Duchess of Kendal’s gentlewoman.’ All we know of her identity is that she was a ‘German Lady, servant to the Duchess’. 8 She was possibly Mrs Shrieder, Melusine’s chief gentlewoman, whom she employed until at least the end of 1727. Another servant important enough to her household to merit mention in the newspapers was Monsieur de Anthony, Melusine’s secretary. Melusine’s writing was an illegible scrawl, and Monsieur de Anthony must have taken dictation for those letters that are easier to read.
Despite their distaste for display and the commotion of the early years, certain duties towards the court continued. Melusine was frantic with worry at the effect the rebellions and his fractious English ministers were having on George’s health, and Mary Countess Cowper reported: ‘Mademoiselle Schulenberg [ sic ] in great concern.’ 9 Nevertheless the countess recorded in her diary the celebrations for Georg August’s birthday: ‘I never saw the court so splendidly fine. The evening concluded with a ball, which the prince and princess began.’
But they retreated as much as possible and happily allowed the more sociable and gregarious Georg August and Caroline to perform the social functions associated with monarchy and to provide the royal family with the requisite glamour.
Thus from the beginning of the new reign two courts existed side-by-side – the monarch’s and the far more lively ambiencecreated by Georg August and Caroline. It would eventually have disastrous consequences for the entire family. The separation would harden into a near-irreparable breach, splitting court, aristocracy and parliament.
Georg August and Caroline, now Prince and Princess of Wales, enthusiastically embraced the role of society leaders. Lord Hervey, a writer and a gossip at the centre of court life (he became Georg August’s vice-chamberlain in 1730), recorded the different temperaments of father and son, and perceived that ‘the pageantry and splendour, the badges and trappings of royalty, were as pleasing to the son as they were irksome to the father’. 10 Caroline held a drawing room in the evening twice a week, and gave balls at Somerset House and St James’s. She and her husband delighted the English courtiers by including them fully on their staff.
Melusine and George lived at St James’s from October or November until May or early June. George’s birthday fell on 28 May, and they often stayed for the elaborate celebrations in London before departing for one of the summer palaces. Late spring was spent at
To draw the man who loves his God, or king,
Alas! I copy (or my draught would fail)
From honest Mah’met, or plain Parson Hale.
Mehemet and Mustapha were also immortalized by William Kent in his glorious mural on the grand staircase at Kensington Palace, with the Turkish touches in Mehemet’s dress adding to his exoticism. In the mural, alongside the two Turks and George’s jester-dwarf, Kent shows Peter the Wild Boy, a feral child, possibly mentally disabled, who had been abandoned by his parents and was living in the woods in northern Germany. George brought him over to England, where he was treated as a curiosity at court. In the minds of many Englishmen, particularly the Jacobites, this strange group – ‘heathen’ Turks, a dwarf, a ‘Wild Boy’, a half-sister who all thought was a mistress, and Melusine, who many laughedat simply because she was ageing yet continued to captivate the king – were established as corrupt and bizarre, in antithesis to poor, beautiful, imprisoned Sophia Dorothea.
Melusine also brought her favourite German servants to London with her, but she was typically discreet about her household, and many of their names are lost to us. We do know that in December 1721, one of the women on her staff won the lottery. The Daily Post reported: ‘We hear that the prize of 300 l. per annum for life that was drawn in the York Buildings Lottery on Wednesday last, fell to the Duchess of Kendal’s gentlewoman.’ All we know of her identity is that she was a ‘German Lady, servant to the Duchess’. 8 She was possibly Mrs Shrieder, Melusine’s chief gentlewoman, whom she employed until at least the end of 1727. Another servant important enough to her household to merit mention in the newspapers was Monsieur de Anthony, Melusine’s secretary. Melusine’s writing was an illegible scrawl, and Monsieur de Anthony must have taken dictation for those letters that are easier to read.
Despite their distaste for display and the commotion of the early years, certain duties towards the court continued. Melusine was frantic with worry at the effect the rebellions and his fractious English ministers were having on George’s health, and Mary Countess Cowper reported: ‘Mademoiselle Schulenberg [ sic ] in great concern.’ 9 Nevertheless the countess recorded in her diary the celebrations for Georg August’s birthday: ‘I never saw the court so splendidly fine. The evening concluded with a ball, which the prince and princess began.’
But they retreated as much as possible and happily allowed the more sociable and gregarious Georg August and Caroline to perform the social functions associated with monarchy and to provide the royal family with the requisite glamour.
Thus from the beginning of the new reign two courts existed side-by-side – the monarch’s and the far more lively ambiencecreated by Georg August and Caroline. It would eventually have disastrous consequences for the entire family. The separation would harden into a near-irreparable breach, splitting court, aristocracy and parliament.
Georg August and Caroline, now Prince and Princess of Wales, enthusiastically embraced the role of society leaders. Lord Hervey, a writer and a gossip at the centre of court life (he became Georg August’s vice-chamberlain in 1730), recorded the different temperaments of father and son, and perceived that ‘the pageantry and splendour, the badges and trappings of royalty, were as pleasing to the son as they were irksome to the father’. 10 Caroline held a drawing room in the evening twice a week, and gave balls at Somerset House and St James’s. She and her husband delighted the English courtiers by including them fully on their staff.
Melusine and George lived at St James’s from October or November until May or early June. George’s birthday fell on 28 May, and they often stayed for the elaborate celebrations in London before departing for one of the summer palaces. Late spring was spent at
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