g in his side, had burst; nevertheless, his two
physicians, Wilmot and Lee, 'knew nothing of his distemper.' According
to Lord Melcombe, who thus refers to their blunders, 'They declared,
half an hour before his death, that his pulse was like a man's in
perfect health. They either would not see or did not know the
consequences of the black thrush, which appeared in his mouth, and quite
down in his throat. Their ignorance, or their knowledge of his disorder,
renders them equally inexcusable for not calling in other assistance.'

The consternation in the prince's household was great, not for his life,
but for the confusion into which politics were thrown by his death.
After his relapse, and until just before his death, the princess never
suffered any English, man or woman, above the degree of valet-de-chambre
to see him; nor did she herself see any one of her household until
absolutely necessary. After the death of his eldest born, George II.
vented his diabolical jealousy upon the cold remains of one thus cut off
in the prime of life. The funeral was ordered to be on the model of that
of Charles II., but private counter-orders were issued to reduce the
ceremonial to the smallest degree of respect that could be paid.

On the 13th of April, 1751, the body of the prince was entombed in Henry
VII.'s chapel. Except the lords appointed to hold the pall, and attend
the chief mourner, when the attendants were called over in their ranks,
there was not a _single_ English lord, not _one_ bishop, and only one
Irish lord (Lord Limerick), and three sons of peers. Sir John Rushout
and Dodington were the only privy counsellors who followed. It rained
heavily, but no covering was provided for the procession. The service
was performed without organ or anthem. 'Thus,' observes Bubb Dodington,
'ended this sad day.'

Although the prince left a brother and sisters, the Duke of Somerset
acted as chief mourner. The king hailed the event of the prince's death
as a relief, which was to render happy his remaining days; and Bubb
Dodington hastened, in a few months, to offer to the Pelhams 'his
friendship and attachment.' His attendance at court was resumed,
although George II. could not endure him; and the old Walpolians,
nick-named the Black-tan, were also averse to him.

Such were Bubb Dodington's _actions_. His expressions, on occasion of
the prince's death, were in a very different tone.

'We have lost,' he wrote to Sir Horace Mann, 'the de