To the long-cherished isle which he loved like his bride. But he comes! the Messiah of royalty comes! Like the goodly Leviathan roll'd from the waves! Then receive him as best such an advent becomes, With a legion of cooks and an army of slaves. Is it madness or meanness that clings to thee now? Were he God--as he is but the commonest clay, With scarce fewer wrinkles than sins on his brow-- Such servile devotion might shame him away. Spread, spread for Vitellius the royal repast, Till the gluttonous despot be stuffed to the gorge; And the roar of his drunkards proclaim him at last, The fourth of the fools and oppressors called 'George.'" Grief was great throughout the kingdom at the death of Queen Caroline. Fearing that the funeral might prove the occasion of a popular demonstration, it was resolved that the body should not pass through the city, but be taken through roundabout and private roads. In a pouring rain the procession started. It consisted of a {280}hearse emblazoned with escutcheons and drawn by eight horses, heralds, twelve mourning-coaches, and six squadrons of soldiers. At every turn barricades had been placed by an angry and excited crowd, who, amid yells of triumph, saw the authorities yield to the course _they_ had determined on, and, contrary to imperative instructions, pass with the _cortège_ through some of the most public thoroughfares. But the excitement was intense; the soldiers were attacked with brickbats and stones, and several people were killed. It took two days to get to Harwich; and, just before the coffin was placed on the man-of-war that awaited it, the discovery was made that the plate which Queen Caroline had ordered had been replaced by another bearing a simple inscription. The interment took place at Brunswick, after night, on the twenty-fourth of August. The king survived until June 26, 1830. When he was dying, a letter was brought to him from Mrs. Fitzherbert, in which that worthy lady offered to watch over and soothe his last moments. After his death her miniature, attached to a red cord, was found hanging from his neck, where, it is supposed, he always wore it. One historian justly says of George IV., that he was jovial, epicurean, good-natured; offering a disastrous spectacle of a life wrecked by self-indulgence and an unbounded love of pleasure. {281} [Illustration: 0287] {283} CHAPTER X. ADELAIDE LOUISA, WIFE OF WILLIAM IV. (A.D. 1818-1849.)