ave any grant
of lands, tenements, or hereditaments from the Crown to himself or to
any other or others in trust for him." Still, Acts of Parliament have
been repealed, and the invaders may well have hoped that, with the
King's support, their influence might increase until they were strong
enough to have the clause revoked.

As a matter of fact, nothing of the kind happened, and no Hanoverian
statesman or court officer was appointed to any place of profit under
the Crown or rewarded for his services in the Electorate by the grant of
a British peerage. It may be noted that the Hanoverian officials, fond
as all Germans were and are of wordy distinctions, styled themselves
"Koenigliche-Gross-britannische-Kurfuerstlich-Braunschweig-Lueneburgische"
(Royal-British-Electoral-Brunswick-Luenburg) councillors or magistrates.

The Hanoverians who were on the political side or held posts in the
Household might, by the exercise of a little tact, have lived down an
unpopularity that was the result of circumstances rather than arising
from any personal animosity. That they did not do so may be ascribed
partly, anyhow, to their own fault.

On the other hand, nothing probably would have overcome the prejudice
against the ladies who followed George to this country. These were the
Countess Ehrengard Melusina von der Schulenburg, who, in 1716, was
created Duchess of Munster in the Irish peerage, and three years after
Duchess of Kendal, by which latter title she is more generally known,
and the Baroness von Kielmansegg (_nee_ Platen), who was presently
elevated to the dignity of Countess of Darlington. It was generally
assured that these ladies were the King's mistresses, and they were
accordingly disliked not only at Court but also by the mob. One of them
when driving in London was assailed by terms of abuse--as she understood
scarcely any English, she could only go by the tone of the voices--and
putting her head out of the coach said: "Good people, why abuse us? We
come for all your goods." "Yes, damn you," cried someone, "and for our
chattels, too." The man in the crowd only voiced the general opinion,
and, it must be said, the general opinion was not far removed from the
truth.

Of course, the Jacobites made the most of this, and, as Horace Walpole
has related, "the seraglio was food for all the venom of the Jacobites,
and, indeed, nothing could be grosser that was vomited out in lampoons,
libels, and every channel of abuse against