King George V
Part One, Chapter Six: Lessons to be Learned
With the summer at an end, the Duchess of Clarence and the royal children returned to Windsor. It had always been the intention that the King should attend Eton College and to that end, he had been given private tuition by one of Eton’s teaching professors, George Cottingham, by way of preparation. This was an experiment devised by Stockmar and the late King. No member of the Royal Family, let alone a reigning monarch, had attended a public school before. [1] At this time in England, education was only compulsory in certain areas of the country with very few schools available outside of the larger towns and cities. The wealthy sent their children to fee-paying schools but there was no set age at which boarders might enrol. [2] Eton College accepted boys from the ages of 8-11 as day boarders and thereafter, as full-time boarders, but the focus was entirely on academic skill and there was little room for encouraging creativity or developing vocational talents. That being said, Eton naturally taught more than the three Rs. Boarders could expect to learn the social niceties expected of them at grand formal dinners offered by House Masters and they were encouraged to take out their frustrations and growing pains on the playing fields. Day boarders often attended for a year before moving permanently to the college during which time they were expected to have learned the strict daily routine that gave wealthy parents the security of knowing Eton would turn their sons into upstanding, disciplined young men.
George V had visited Eton before he became a day boarder and took an immediate dislike to the college. But in September 1829, the full horror of what was to become his life full-time in just 12 months came as a terrible shock. Juniors (day boarders were considered juniors regardless of how long they had attended the college) were subservient to senior boarders and thus had to act as “fags”* or servants to those in the upper years. Forced to clean, cook and run errands for the seniors, juniors were often victims of relentless bullying. Pranks were taken to extreme levels and in 1831, Sir John Carmichael-Anstruther, a young baronet, was fatally shot dead when several pupils rigged up a pistol to startle anyone who entered the dormitory. Tragically, the boys miscalculated and pistol shot the 13-year-old dead. [3] There were frequently reports of scaldings, broken limbs and even brandings when junior students failed to please seniors. Officially, such behaviour was grounds for immediate expulsion. Unofficially, the Masters tended to turn a blind eye. It was all part of the process of “making men” of the boarders.
Eton College.
The Masters were unlikely to be shocked by violence given their proclivity to employ corporal punishment for any minor misdemeanor. Birching was held in full view of fellow pupils on a special wooden birching block over which the offender was held. House Masters alone could use the birch, House Captains had to make do with administering justice with a cane whilst Prefects were restricted to the use of their own hands to slap the poor offender in the face. This often got out of hand and boys were regularly beaten for the most harmless of crimes such as failing to make their bed properly or forgetting their schoolbooks. There was a distinct lack of home comforts too. The food for juniors was incredibly poor whilst seniors ate much better fare with House Masters or Captains. Windows were deliberately left open in junior dormitories so that the boarders had to sleep in the cold with rain or snow blowing into the room. If a junior was spotted by a Prefect on his first day and considered an easy target, he might well be given the bed closest to the window and given the gift of an “apple pie bed”. The sheets were folded in such a way that the poor boy would wake up the next morning unable to free himself and in the winter, found his bedclothes wet through. [4]
There were to be no apple pie beds for the King of course. Stockmar had decreed that the King be treated the same as any other day boarder and though the Duke of Clarence objected, he was enrolled as George Hanover. [5] Nobody at the College was to refer to him as ‘Your Majesty’ as members of the Royal Household did and there was to be now bowing and absolutely no preferential treatment. In spite of this, everybody knew who the boy was and for the first two weeks as a day boarder, far from being targeted by bullies, Georgie was completely ignored and isolated. Nobody approached him during break times and he ate his luncheon entirely alone as nobody else dared sit with him. At 5pm every day, he would be collected by Honest Billy who returned him to Windsor Castle where the poor boy sobbed as he was forced to endure yet more lessons with George Cottingham and to complete his homework for the next day. This naturally meant that Georgie saw very little of his sister and whilst Charlotte Louise had Cousin Victoria to keep her company, Georgie had nobody.
After six weeks, Stockmar was summoned to Eton by the Headmaster, John Keate. Keate had helped to provide the Royal Household with Cottingham as George’s tutor but now he had reservations about the experiment's success. George V was the first member of the Royal Family to attend a public school on the recommendation of Baron Stockmar. His father, George IV, and his uncle, the Prince Regent, had been educated in emulation of the French royal custom with tutors being brought in to teach them academic subjects and governors and sub-governors introduced to oversee “discipline and morals”. But Stockmar had felt that George V would benefit from a different type of education and that his lessons with Cottingham would prepare him well for “regular” schooling. The government were only too happy to see the proposal put into action and much was made of the King being “a normal child seeking to better himself through his academic pursuits”. Not that many “normal” children of the day had such opportunities. Queen Louise had not been keen on the idea of sending her son to Eton but she had agreed some years ago because she felt it important for him to mix with other boys of similar (though naturally not identical) backgrounds. Stockmar saw the merit in that but sadly, Georgie found himself ostracised by his classmates.
John Keate.
Keate’s assessment of the young King was that his position made it impossible for the other boys to fully accept him as one of their own. Nobody dared play a prank on the monarch, neither did anyone seek out his friendship thinking others would accuse them of trying to ingratiate themselves with royalty. When one boarder said good morning to Georgie and accidentally called him ‘Your Majesty’, a senior put a toad in his bed. Nobody else was going to risk being tarred with the same brush. The result of this of course was that Georgie didn’t excel academically. His education had been more than adequate at home but in a strange environment confronted with boys he could neither relate to or become friends with, he simply switched off in the classroom and sat silently without reading or writing until it was time for him to leave at the end of the day. Stockmar was furious. He attributed this behaviour not to loneliness but to laziness and warned the Duke of Clarence that the King was “stubborn and arrogant”. He even asked Keate to ensure the young King was “not spared his share of beatings for bad behaviour”. Keate responded that no Eton staff member nor student would dare raise a hand against the Sovereign, even if he was a ten-year-old boy.
Stockmar refused to give up on the Eton plan. He lectured the King on the importance of study and reminded him that it had been his father’s wish that he receive a proper education. Georgie was unmoved. The Duke of Wellington recalled how, when he approached the King and asked him how he liked Eton (being an alumni himself), the young boy replied; “I hate it Sir, I hate it more than I hate anything else in the world”. It was decided to temporarily remove Georgie from Eton with a view to enrolling him for a second attempt at success in a few months’ time. Whilst Stockmar felt this an unnecessary interruption, the Duke of Clarence was concerned that the young King was becoming withdrawn. It was Prince Leopold who proposed a solution. He suggested that his nephews, Hereditary Duke Ernst and Prince Albert of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha join the King for two terms at Eton in the new year. In this way, the King would have friends of his own age and background whom he knew and liked. The Duke of Clarence agreed but Stockmar warned that this was “tantamount to indulging slovenliness” and suggested that it would “distract His Majesty from his studies and further interrupt the process agreed by the late King to ensure a robust education”.
Georgie was delighted to be joined by the Coburg princes at Eton the following year but their presence did little to improve the situation. Though nobody dared approach the King, many boarders were willing to approach the two new arrivals from Germany whom they were unfamiliar with (having been enrolled as Ernest and Albert von Coburg). On the first day of the term just after the King’s 10th birthday, one of the seniors demanded that Prince Albert fetch him a clean neckerchief from his room. Albert refused and as punishment, a crowd of pupils watched as mud was smeared on Albert’s face. Georgie was furious at this and took it upon himself to kick the senior in the shins. Forgetting himself, the senior brawled with the young King until there was a fist-fight that resulted in Georgie being hauled before Headmaster Keate with a split bottom lip. In normal circumstances, Keate would have birched the boy before the entire college for such behaviour but he could not bring himself to do so when the boy in question was the monarch. Reluctantly, he sent the King home and summoned Stockmar once again. If a student could not be disciplined, he could not remain at the college. Keate had no option but to politely request that the King be removed from Eton “for his own sake as much as that of his fellows”.
Stockmar was livid. He had carefully plotted out Georgie’s education and Eton had always been the school of choice, not so much because of its academic credentials but because it sent a clear message to the country that the King might be a child but that he was working hard to prepare himself for adulthood (and most importantly) for Kingship. Stockmar called an emergency summit at Clarence House attended by the Duke of Clarence, the Duke of Wellington, Prince Leopold, Headmaster Keate, George Cottingham and the Bishop of London. All were agreed that the Eton experiment had failed spectacularly but Stockmar was not yet ready to give up on institutional learning. “If His Majesty cannot enrol in a public school”, he warned, “How can we expect him to undertake military training later?”. In Stockmar’s view, the obvious answer was to send the King abroad for his education. The Duke of Wellington was bitterly opposed.
A postcard of Stockmar from a portrait painted by Winterhalter.
Firstly, to send the King abroad for his studies might reflect badly on England’s public schools. Secondly, the only benefit to schooling abroad would be anonymity and even then, it surely wouldn’t take long before his identity was revealed? Thirdly, the idea of the monarch living abroad for almost five years was unthinkable and he was certain that the Cabinet would never agree. The Duke of Clarence was inclined to agree with the Prime Minister but he also saw the advantages. However, Stockmar overplayed his hand when he suggested that the King might be educated in Hanover. Queen Louise’s recent departure for Hanover had cast a long shadow. It was decided therefore that if the King could not go to school, school must go to the King. Cottingham was dismissed and new tutors were engaged from Trinity College, Cambridge and Christ Church, Oxford. The King’s routine would change dramatically with all extra-curricular activities forbidden and three hours learning a day added to his schedule. Sunday afternoons were to be the only free time allocated to him and even then, he was expected to deliver a short essay explaining that morning’s sermon to Stockmar before he could do as he wished.
After three weeks of this, Georgie longed to spend some quality time with his sister Charlotte Louise and his cousin Victoria. Seizing the opportunity of his tutor being late to class, Georgie snuck out of the schoolroom and ran along the corridor to where the two princesses were waiting for their governess to take them for a walk in Windsor Great Park. Without thinking, the three children made a break for it and ran giggling all the way out of the State Apartments and through the Gateway recently named in honour of Georgie’s father, George IV. From there, they made their way down the Long Walk and began to climb trees. When the King’s tutor arrived at the school room and found the King had absconded, he knew where to look first. He found the governess, Mrs McKay, sobbing anxiously into her handkerchief. The memory of Prince Edward’s tragic accident was all too recent and the disappearance of the royal children caused a panic that saw every member of the household dispatched to find them. They were not far from the George IV Gateway; indeed, a guard had seen them walk past and assumed it to be their day off from their lessons. The princesses were spanked and put to bed with no supper and Dash, the puppy so beloved by Princess Victoria, was not allowed to sleep in her bedroom for a week. Princess Charlotte Louise was to forego ballet lessons for the same period.
Royal Lodge, Windsor.
But the harshest punishment meted out by Stockmar was to the King. As it had been Georgie who encouraged his sister and cousin to play truant with him, he must take full responsibility. To prevent him being distracted and tempted to repeat the experiment in the future, Stockmar decided that the King would no longer live in the State Apartments in the adjoining rooms allocated to the royal children by the Duchess of Clarence. He would be allowed to sleep there on Saturday evenings after his studies and spend Sundays with Charlotte Louise and Victoria. But for the rest of the week, the King would live at Royal Lodge with Honest Billy. Only his tutors and members of the Household would be admitted until Stockmar was persuaded that Georgie was at the academic level Stockmar believed he should be. The King was allowed to take his puppy, Jack, with him but was only allowed to spend time with the dog in the evenings. The Duke and Duchess of Clarence felt this unnecessarily harsh but Stockmar convinced them when he suggested that if the King was to continue in this vein where education was concerned, he might well end up a dunce. Stockmar’s report informed the Clarences that the King’s handwriting was “childlike”, his numeracy “poor” and his reading skill “no more advanced than it was two years ago”. Georgie’s character was described as “unreliable with a tendency towards laziness and disengagement” and his discipline was “lacklustre because he has been consistently over indulged”.
A new phase of the Stockmar System was now introduced. In later years, George V would describe Stockmar as “that old monster” and it was perhaps his own experiences at this time that saw him make a solemn promise in later life that none of his children would ever be discouraged from their interests, neither would they ever be subjected to corporal punishment or isolation from their siblings as a form of correction. George V’s daughter, Princess Victoria (1840 – 1922), later remembered how her father paid a visit to the schoolroom at Windsor once a week to ensure his children were not being treated too harshly but this did not mean he was at all indulgent of any bad behaviour. “He would withdraw special treats such as sweets or fancies at teatime”, the Princess wrote in her unpublished memoirs, “But even then, the following day one seemed to have twice as much. I never heard my father raise his voice and the most terrible punishment in his armory was to look very sad and say how disappointed he was in our poor behaviour. I believe that was enough to crush our spirits until we wept and begged forgiveness which of course, was always given freely and with affection. He was a remarkable father for the time in which he lived and I believe this was the result of those awful days he spent at Royal Lodge under Stockmar’s tyranny”.
Honest Billy.
But there was a bright light of kindness at Royal Lodge which shone through the King’s dark schooldays. Honest Billy, the Crown Equerry, was to become a vital source of support and when he felt the King had had a particularly bad day, he would sneak him sweets or cakes from the kitchens when Stockmar had left following his afternoon inspection of the King’s schoolwork. John Lawton, the King’s tutor from Cambridge, was also kind to the boy and turned a blind eye when Honest Billy allowed Jack (the King’s puppy) to wander into the schoolroom and doze at the boy’s feet. Billy became a much-loved friend to the young monarch and in later life, George recalled that “he spent most of his wages on toys and treats for the schoolroom which he was expert in hiding from my tutors until such a time as I could recover and enjoy them”. And come rain or shine, from March 1830 onwards, Billy always ensured that every Sunday, Princess Charlotte Louise and Princess Victoria were taken to Royal Lodge in a pony and trap to visit the King. The children played together in the garden and so as to give them more time together, Billy even helped the King with his “sermon reports”, deliberately sneaking in a few minor errors so that Stockmar believed the boy had written them himself.
In June, the royal children were once again joined by the Coburg princes for a Whitsun holiday. This time, the Duchess of Clarence took them to Southend-on-Sea on the Essex coast where the first section of a new pleasure pier had been constructed. For a third farthing (1/12th of a penny), visitors could ride the horse tramway to and from the pier head and the royal children were reported as taking the journey “three times before Her Royal Highness the Duchess of Clarence had to persuade them to try another activity”. But it was also at Southend-on-Sea that the King took part in his very first official public function. Southend’s status as a seaside resort had grown with the coming of the railways and the visit of the late Princess of Wales (Caroline of Brunswick) who had taken a summer residence on the seafront. It had been decided by local officials that the parade of houses should be renamed
Royal Terrace and a memorial fountain was installed on the clifftop closest to Princess Caroline’s former summer residence bearing an inscription to her. On the 6th of June 1830, George V, accompanied by his aunt the Duchess of Clarence, his sister Princess Charlotte Louise and his cousin Princess Victoria, dutifully cut a ribbon tied between two posts beside the fountain to rapturous applause from the local dignitaries assembled. The national press was delighted with the visit and even quoted the King as saying that Southend-on-Sea was “a very fine resort indeed”. Whether Georgie actually said these words is debatable but that summer, record numbers flocked to Southend-on-Sea to experience the royally approved seaside town for themselves.
The horse drawn tramway on Southend on Sea Pier.
Stockmar was intrigued to notice that the King’s academic record was improving. He was getting higher marks than ever before and he seemed genuinely interested in the subject matter before him. Naturally Stockmar took this as proof positive that his new system had been a success and extended the arrangement. In reality, the King was happier than he had been at Eton and with a little kindness here and there, was enthused to learn. Whilst it may appear that the continuation of the Stockmar system might have been a negative influence on Georgie’s mood, his continued improvements pleased Stockmar so much that he was far more open to bending the strict schedule than he once might have been. Honest Billy and Mr Lawton invented educational trips, some of them requiring two or three days in London. The two young princesses were allowed to go even though their limited education was considered to be nearing its end. Within a year, Stockmar was even allowing the King both Saturday and Sunday away from his studies and the sermon reports became a thing of the past.
As the King grew older, his education began to focus more on the constitution and politics. Whilst he naturally was expected to remain impartial (though his predecessors had tested this requirement to the limit at times), it was seen as important that the King understand fully the way parliament worked and what the big issues of the day were. For Georgie, he could have no better resource than both the Prime Minister, the Duke of Wellington, and his opposite number, Lord John Russell. Both men were warned by Stockmar not to try to persuade the King to sympathise with their cause, they were simply to answer Georgie’s questions. Lord John Russell later said of the King; “He was a keen young man and asked very intelligent questions of me, indeed, I had to apologise on more than one occasion for I could not think of the answer to his inquiry”. The Duke of Wellington was impressed too, noting how the young King; “asked all the right questions in all the right places, a skill many parliamentarians never acquire however long they sit on the benches of the House”. Of particular interest to the King that year was the prospect of a hung parliament. It must have been awkward for the Duke of Wellington to explain a situation he was desperately hoping to avoid but nonetheless he did so, apparently giving a good enough answer to satisfy Georgie’s curiosity.
In retaliation to the Roman Catholic Relief Act 1829, the so-called Ultra Tories led by the Duke of Newcastle had decided to engineer a vote of no confidence in the Prime Minister. To affect this, a motion would be introduced in the House of Commons by Sir Richard Vyvyan, a key supporter of the Ultra Tories and a supposed “mastermind” of the Cumberland Plot. [6] Newcastle did not expect the motion to be successful but he wished to use it as a trap to force Wellington to make his peace with the Ultra Tories and at the same time, dissuade him from making any attempts at further parliamentary reform. Newcastle predicted that if the motion did not pass, Wellington would seek revenge on those who had introduced it. In the absence of a formal party system, this meant Wellington could try to convince the three trustees who selected candidates for each constituency to choose from new list ahead of the next general election which did not include Ultra Tories. But Newcastle assured Ultra Tories in the Commons that there was absolutely no chance of this because Wellington did not wish to risk a snap general election which could result in a hung parliament, or worse, a defeat for the Tories. [7]
Henry Pelham-Clinton, 4th Duke of Newcastle.
The motion of no confidence in the government, introduced on the 10th of September 1830, was defeated in Wellington’s favour by 92 votes, enough for the Prime Minister to believe he need not resign. But he could not let the attempt to depose him go unpunished and despite Newcastle’s surety to the contrary, Wellington rose to his feet in the House of Lords and made a short address that would end the division in the Tory party once and for all. He would call a snap election. He felt confident that the Tories would be returned with an increased majority and he did doubted that the Ultra Tories standing on independent or rival tickets would be re-elected in any great number with his strict vetting procedure communicated to the selection board trustees. Newcastle was horrified. As he left the House of Lords, some of his fellow Ultra Tories booed and jeered him. His plan to oust Wellington had backfired and he was seen as endangering the entire party for his own petty ends.
Whilst their places in the Lords were secure, if Wellington pulled off an election victory with an increased majority, the Ultra Tories would lose their presence in the Commons entirely. When Wellington was warned that the Ultra Tory peers would override their moderate counterparts in the Commons, he replied, “We can always fit in more benches”. In other words, Wellington was minded to create a small army of peers from the moderate wing of the Tory party to outnumber the Ultra Tories. [8] That evening, Wellington made his way to Clarence House to request that parliament be prorogued. Clarence agreed and Commissioners were appointed and dispatched to the Palace of Westminster the following morning to announce that parliament had been prorogued for a period of 28 days during which time a general election would take place. [9]
Some moderate Tories were nervous that Wellington had been overzealous in his reaction to the Ultra Tories. These included the Chancellor of the Exchequer, William Huskisson, who argued publicly with Wellington after his speech in the House of Lords and stormed off to Downing Street in a terrible temper. The Prime Minister tried to reassure his supporters that the Ultra Tories posed no real threat to the Tory majority and that most would not wish to be cut off from government by representing a splinter group whose major objection was an issue which had already been put to bed. Most Ultra Tories rallied behind Sir Edward Knatchbull and decided to stand once again in the same constituencies but as Ultra Tories instead of Tories. For those who enjoyed prominent local status as landowners and employers, they knew the electorate dare not vote them out and expected to be returned to the Commons with increased majorities. Other Ultra Tories were not so certain of their prospects.
The Prime Minister intended to launch his campaign on the 15th of September 1830. He was due open the new Liverpool and Manchester Railway, which connected the two cities, by travelling on one of the eight inaugural trains. He would be accompanied by various dignitaries and notable figures of the day and crowds were encouraged to line the track at Liverpool to watch the train depart for Manchester. Also present that day was the Chancellor of the Exchequer, William Huskisson. The first leg of the journey was a success with crowds cheering as the Duke of Wellington’s special train, pulled by the locomotive
Northumbrian (driven by George Stephenson, the so-called
Father of the Railways), passed through various small towns along the route. At Parkside railway station, the train stopped to take on fuel and water. Ignoring a warning to stay inside the carriage, Huskisson took the opportunity to be seen approaching the Duke of Wellington before the crowds, no doubt hoping that rumours of their falling out could be buried at the very start of the Tory election campaign. Huskisson stepped down from the carriage into the rails below.
Huskisson's fatal accident illustrated for The Times of London, 1830.
Huskisson was known to be clumsy. Prone to regular trips and falls, he had twice broken his arm and had never fully recovered the use of it. He was just a few weeks post-surgery as the result of another accident and had ignored his doctor’s advice to stay on strict on bed rest believing it more important that he been seen in public with the Prime Minister on friendly terms. On his way back to his own carriage, there came a shout; “An engine is approaching! Take care!”. The voice belonged to Joseph Locke, Stephenson’s assistant and a prominent engineer in his own right. He was driving
Rocket, a steam locomotive of 0-2-2-wheel arrangement designed by George Stephenson’s son Robert. Realizing the danger, Huskisson panicked. He tried to cross to the other line but seemed to change his mind and returned to the Duke’s private carriage attempting to pull himself up onto the train. Locke tried to throw
Rocket into reverse but it was too late. Huskisson fumbled for the door to the Duke of Wellington’s carriage but it hadn’t been latched. The result was that the door swung open and put Huskisson directly into the path of
Rocket. He was hit and fell in a crumpled heap on the tracks in front of the train. His leg was mangled but amazingly, he was still alive. [10]
In the ensuing panic, Wellington helped wrench a door from a railway building. Huskisson was placed on it and taken into the carriage. The train set off without delay and at the next stop, Eccles, Huskisson was taken to the local vicarage. A doctor was called but it became clear that the situation was a grave one. The doctor could not perform a field amputation and so Huskisson was given opium and brandy to keep him comfortable in his final hours. He died at 9pm that night. Campaigning for the General Election was postponed for 48 hours out of respect. Wellington was devastated by the loss of Huskisson and in later years suffered traumatic flashbacks to the accident of which he had been the primary eyewitness. Returning to his election campaign, an advisor tried to enthuse the Duke for the hustings. He replied; “What does it matter now? What does any of it truly matter?”.
For the Duke of Wellington, 1830 marked a turning point in his political career. The final outcome of the snap election would not be clear immediately and whilst he had been confident when he called the snap election, Huskisson’s sudden and tragic death seemed to impact him greatly. Whilst the two had endured a sometimes-fractious relationship, Wellington saw Huskisson’s death as a kind of omen. His confidence faltered and he truly believed that he would be defeated at the ballot box. A note in the Duke’s diary suggests that he even considered resigning before the final result was known but was advised not to by the Duke of Clarence. As he waited to learn whether his great gamble had paid off, Wellington came to the sudden realization that he had been mistaken in believing the election to be the hardest political battle of his career. What was to follow would prove an even greater challenge.
[1] Some male members of the Royal Family had completed two or three terms at University but had never been formally enrolled to complete an actual academic year before.
[2] This came much later when education became compulsory and a standard school age was introduced.
[3] True story.
[4] Again, true. In the OTL, Prince George, Duke of Kent was subjected to the "apple pie bed" trick at Dartmouth Naval College.
[5] This was standard since the reign of George I for whenever members of the Royal Family wanted to travel incognito. It's survived to this day (i.e William Wales, Beatrice York).
[6] See Part Three of this TL.
[7] In the OTL, the situation was somewhat different because there had been an election in 1830 which saw the Tories win a plurality over the Whigs but still allowed Earl Grey to form a government when Wellington lost a motion of no confidence and resigned. Obviously here we don't have the same 1830 General Election in the same circumstances.
[8] A common-place strategy before later reforms.
[9] It should be pointed out here that general elections took far longer to arrange in the 1800s with people voting not just on one day but for weeks at a time. A month was generally considered ample time for a conclusive result.
[10] This may sound like butterflies but this is entirely accurate. The only change is that Huskisson's row with Wellington in the OTL was far more prolonged and led to him resigning from government. The situation in this TL means he would have stayed in his post and the argument has a different catalyst (the snap election).
*Not the modern-day slur but Eton parlance. Because the rich do that sort of thing apparently.