By George! The Prince Regent’s Childhood.

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King George III had a royal fear of his son becoming a lollygagger. To avert this the Prince and his brother lived a closely regimented life. Every waking moment had to be accounted for. Supervision was constant to make sure that only suitable activities were engaged in. What dad wanted his son to learn first and foremost was that he would one day be king. God himself would see to that.

And what kind of king would he be if he frittered away his time on things like playing and socializing with kids his own age? Not much of a king. That was dad’s take on it. Mum got the boot in as well. “Disdain all flattery. Fear God and abhor all vice.” Not necessarily in that order. Dad’s idea of making the Prince a fit king was to make him a carbon copy of himself. Only better educated.

You see, King George the Third was much like his grandfather and the consensus on granddad was “Stupid, but complicated.” Education notwithstanding, no one would ever accuse the Prince of being stupid. As tightly regimented as the Prince’s early life was, it was stifling in its boredom. George the III loved boredom. Couldn’t get enough of it. Making sure his wife stayed pregnant, she had eight kids by the time she was 27, there would be seven more after that, seemed to be his main hobby.

Beyond knocking up the Queen, he loved puttering around the garden. Not for nothing would he later be referred to as “Farmer George.” He had no time for literature, art, the theater, although he did love opera, architecture or the sciences. He did appreciate that important discoveries were being made. He even had a bit of money for science fellows that needed a research grant. But artists? Why in God’s name did anyone waste good money on that piffle? He didn’t understand art and he didn’t want to. Besides, everyone knew that artists were notoriously immoral.

To make sure the Prince and his brother kept away from that sort; the King raised them away from London, a sinkhole of artistic filth and wanton hussies. This pretty much guaranteed that the Prince would grow up to be everything his father abhorred. But this was not a forgone conclusion. Things might have turned out differently if the King had actually found the time to be around his son.

Dad didn’t see it that way. What mum and dad liked were babies. They LOVED babies. Nothing was too good for the babies in the family. Unfortunately, once the babies became children, their interest began to fade. As a result, they tried to keep the Prince a baby as long as possible. The Prince was forced to wear baby clothes long after he should have begun wearing outfits appropriate to his age. How long did this go on? One day, he grabbed the frilled collar he was wearing and exclaimed to a servant, “See how I am treated.”  Too long. Way too long.