By George! It's George IV's brothers. Or Edward, Anyway.

Last week Mr. Al decided to digress a bit with a quick look at some of the other royal children.

The French revolution was putting paid to the idea that guys like the Prince, or his dad, were necessary to the function of government. The Prince, Whig pretenses notwithstanding, was appalled by what was happening in France. As were all the crowned heads in Europe. If not all the crowned heads were doing something about it, at least they were discussing the matter.

All the young princes of Europe were fitting themselves for smart officer’s uniforms in high prestige cavalry regiments. None of them wanted to be left out of the glory that would follow the crushing of the bestial French regicides. The Prince was no exception. Alas, dad wouldn’t let him out of the country. Not even if it meant the Prince getting blown to flinders in a foul, flooded field in Flanders. Sorry, I couldn’t resist.

Much to the Princes dismay, all of his brothers were in uniform. In fact, all of them had received actual military training. How assiduously they studied was not the point. They had their smart uniforms and they were ready to serve. Even the disreputable Duke of York was kitted out with all that a gentleman/officer could require. To no ones surprise, he did not cover himself with glory. Indeed, he had lost none of his taste for fast friends, faster women and strong drink. However, he did manage to get through the experience with out messing things up too badly.

Younger brothers Ernest and Adolphus, while not given their own commands, were at least serving at staff officer level at the sharp end of the stick, as it were. Adolphus had, in fact, been praised for bravery in the face of enemy fire. Like Ernest, (pronounced Urn-st) he was wounded at one point, very reluctantly allowed to convalesce in England, then sent back to the front.

Prince Edward, at least by his own lights, had a much rougher time of it. He had decided on a military career while quite young. Like his brothers, he received his education in Germany. At age 18, in May 1786, he was made Brevet- Colonel in the Hanovrian army. All fine and well. Almost. He did have some money troubles. These troubles were all too familiar to his siblings. Cards and dice, painted ladies, the bottle and the ponies.

The trouble was, his allowance wasn’t sufficient to pay for all his dearly loved vices. He, like his brothers, went deep into debt to pay for all the fun. How did mom and dad find out? They read it in The Times, of course. The parental reaction was as predictable as it was draconian. They appointed a watchdog and then shipped them both to the worst, most insufferable hellhole mom could dream up. In this case, Geneva, Switzerland.

The modern reader may wonder at my description of Geneva as a hellhole. But then my modern reader is not likely to be a dissipated, oversexed, boozing teenage boy being punished by his parents with exile in the Fiercely Protestant city that Geneva was in those days. No one ever accused Calvinists of being fun-loving, and Fast Eddie was being sent to a city full of them.

My modern reader also did not have a “guardian” named Colonel Baron von Wagenheim. The Baron was, apparently, everything the Queen could hope for in a watchdog. Her orders to him were brief and to the point. Keep that punk on a very short leash. If there is anything even vaguely resembling fun in Geneva, keep him away from it. She need not have worried. Edward found it  “the dullest, and most insufferable of places.” Boo-hoo for Prince Edward.

For months, Edward wrote home asking for money or permission to return to England. He received neither. The he got a brainstorm. Why didn’t he think of it earlier?