The last monarch to reside and to die in the palace was George II., the "petty German autocrat" who scorned England and delighted in snubbing his English courtiers, declaring, according to Lord Hervey, that no Englishman knew how to enter a room, nor any Englishwoman how to dress, nor English cooks how to prepare a dinner, nor English coachman how to drive, nor, indeed, were there any English horses fit to ride or drive. Queen Caroline, his much-enduring wife, devoted herself to the planning out of the gardens, which she laid out practically as we now see them. Uniting a collection of ponds she created the Serpentine, and was also responsible for the Round Pond and the Broad Walk. George III. did not care for Kensington, much preferring his beloved Windsor, so that the palace became somewhat neglected, being only used by various members of the Royal Family. The Duke of Kent, the fourth son of George III., came to live there shortly after his marriage, the Princess Victoria being born on May 24, 1819, in the room which now bears a brass plate commemorating the fact. At the time of her birth there seemed small likelihood of the little Princess ever reaching the Throne, but her royal uncles having no children, it soon became obvious that she was the heir to the Throne of England. She herself, being brought up with scrupulous care by her widowed mother, did not know of her great future till the death of George III. The residents of Kensington soon became familiar with the sight of little Princess Victoria driving about in a donkey carriage or in a tiny chaise drawn by small ponies. A few weeks after her eighteenth birthday, the Princess was awakened out of her sleep very early on a bright June morning. The Archbishop of Canterbury and the Lord Chamberlain had arrived at the palace, and their business could not wait. "We have come to see the _Queen_ on business of state, and even the Queen's sleep must give way to that." Hastily putting on a dressing gown and slippers, the young girl went down, to be told by the Archbishop that her uncle and King was dead, and that she was now the Queen of a vast inheritance. Later on that same morning her first council was held in the palace, the scene depicted by Wilkie in his well-known picture. The young Queen was very dignified and self-possessed, turning to Lord Melbourne, the Prime Minister, when doubtful as to what she should do, but showing all through the trying ordeal a gentle sweetness that won upon all the lords present. She read her speech "in a clear, distinct, and audible voice, and without any appearance of fear or embarrassment," after which all the privy councillors came to kiss her hand and swear allegiance. When her uncle, the old Duke of Sussex, who was very infirm, came forward to kneel before her, she left her chair and came towards him, kissing him on the forehead. On July 13, the girl-Queen left the home of her childhood for Buckingham Palace.