By George! What to Do With a Tsar.

Last week Mr. Al talked about how poorly George IV got along with a certain Tsar’s sister, and hinted there might be problems because of it.  Let’s see what he meant.

The Prince saw King Louis off  for his return to France at Dover, then returned to London to begin preparations for the arrival of Frederick William III, King of Prussia, Prince Metternich, who was representing the Emperor of Austria, and Tsar Alexander I. Having already received an unhealthy dose of Alex’s sister, he was not looking forward to meeting with him.

On June 7th 1814, the group arrived. As far as relations between the Prince Regent and the Tsar were concerned, it was a nightmare. The Duke of Cumberland’s apartments at St James Palace, I assume with the walls re-papered and the tourists chased out, was made ready for the Tsar. He was having none of it. Alexander made a beeline to the Pulteney Hotel to stay with his sister. There, he and the Duchess stood on the balcony, waving to the wildly cheering crowd.

Unfortunately, the Prince had ridden out to Shooters Hill to escort the Tsar into London. No Tsar.  Well, the Tsar HAD to be greeted. There was nothing to be done for it but to ride to the Pulteney and put the best possible face on it. Unfortunately, that meant riding through a mass of Londoners, most of them drunk, probably, to do so. The Prince wasn’t up for that much sport. Instead, he sent a message saying, in effect, “Sorry, perhaps we can get together some other time.”

The Tsar was under the impression that he would be Officially Greeted at the Pulteney. I wonder who put that bee in his bonnet? By the time the message arrived he had already been kept waiting for several hours. Now he was being blown off completely! The Tsar of all the Russias was Royally Cheesed! Said the Duchess to her brother, “This is what the man is like.”

Believe it or not, it only got worse from that point onward. Appointments were made, the Tsar would be “fashionably late.” The Prince responded by making more appointments, then showing up late to them. The Tsar responded to that by meeting the most radical, anti-royal Whigs in England and publicly glad-handing them. As if that were not enough, and it wasn’t, he decided to turn up the heat a few degrees by becoming wildly, and publicly, enchanted with a most lovely and gracious Englishwoman that he had met…Lady Jersey.

They danced together at official receptions, they mixed with the Smart Crowd and made Prinny a laughing stock wherever they went. As if that were not enough, and it wasn’t, The Tsar refused to ride in the Prince Regent’s official carriage unless his delightful sister and his bubbly gal-pal could ride along.

The Prince explained that women did not ride in the Sovereign’s coach when it appeared in public. This may have even been true. What he did not add was that he no longer went out alone in the Sovereign’s coach. The last time he did so, it was quickly surrounded by a booing, hissing mob of Londoners who shouted, “Where’s your wife?” Not something he was willing to risk again.

The Prince’s other guests were a bother, but not even close to the degree that the Tsar was. The King of Prussia wanted things done his way or not at all. The Prussian general, Prince von Blucher, whom the world would hear more about after Napoleon escaped from Elba, got staggering drunk at a number of State Occasions. At once such gathering, in Oxford, where the general was to receive an honorary degree, he was called upon to make a speech.

Rising unsteadily to his feet, he began spouting drivel in German to the assembled worthies. The Prince, who’s German was excellent, knew only too well that what the general was saying was not what the occasion called for. Quickly moving to the generals side, the Prince announced that since those gathered could not be expected to know German, and seeing that no suitable translators were at hand, the Prince himself would translate.

Those gathered were not fooled for an instant. But…Oxford was not London. The Prince was well liked in Oxford. And he had just saved a very important guest from making a fool of himself. And he did it in high style. The speech received a rousing ovation. Later that evening, the Prince entered the Sheldonian Theater to “loud applause.”

Back in London, however, things quickly returned to “normal.” At a hugely expensive banquet at the Guildhall, the Prince moved down the center aisle, where 700 people stood on either side. He mounted the dais and turned to face the guests. That was the Tsars cue to follow him. He did, at a leisurely pace, stopping to chat with Lord Holland and Lord Grey. Most embarrassing.

When singers from the Italian Opera Company began singing at dinner, the Grand Duchess asked the Prince to make them stop. It upset her tummy. She even asked him to have the musicians turn down the volume on “God Save The King.” The Prince could take some satisfaction from the fact that at this point in their visit, they had been at it for several weeks, both the Tsar and the Grand Duchess were wearing out their welcome. Even the Whigs were growing tired of the Tsars constant Prince bashing. The Russian aristocracy was not exactly famous for it’s refined manners.

The final, and by far the worst insult was yet to come. At a performance at Covent Gardens, the Prince entered to the usual catcalls and abuse. Because he was with royal guests, it was more subdued than was usually the case. Just as this subsided who should make a grand entrance but…the Princess of Wales. She was dressed to the nines and dripping with diamonds. The whole theater was on it’s feet clapping and huzzahing Her Highness. The Prince was mortified. He had taken care to make sure Caroline would not take part in any official function. This, however, was not an official function. According to one witness; “After the performance her carriage was cheered more wildly than ever as it made its way through crowds who shouted to ask her if she wanted them to burn down Carlton House.” Londoners! Whattayagonnadowithe’m!

And what of the Princess of Wales? What had she been up to since the start of the Regency? I’m glad you asked.

– Mr. Al