FESTIVITIES AT CARLTON HOUSE—COMPLAINTS AND ACCUSATIONS—LETTER TO LADY
LIVERPOOL—VISIT TO SANDHURST—ARRIVAL OF THE PRINCE OF ORANGE—A SUITOR
FOR THE PRINCESS CHARLOTTE—ROYAL MATCH-MAKING—LETTER TO THE PRINCESS
CHARLOTTE.
ON the 6th of July we were at the magnificent breakfast given at Carlton
Gardens, followed by a ball. The news of the battle of Vittoria added
splendour to the fête, and the letter[144] of the Prince to Lord
Wellington, with the marshal’s staff which he was to send him, and that
taken from the enemy, were the lions of the day. It was a fine day, and
the gardens really looked very gay, but Princess Charlotte had just
before, on the 1st of the month, lost poor Mrs. Gagarin,[145] and was
deeply affected by her loss. She might be said to have known no other
mother; and her fortitude as well as tenderness, on this occasion,
showed itself in every possible way, to the great honour of her heart
and head. Mrs. Wightman arrived too late to see her mother alive.
Princess Charlotte saw her after her death; it was the first corpse she
had seen; she took with her into the room an intimate friend of the
deceased, and to her, and to all who were attached to Mrs. Gagarin, she
was invariably affectionate and beneficent. She was very low for a long
time afterwards, though she endeavoured to suppress and conceal her
feelings.
We continued to visit Sanders, as the time approached for going into the
country; and Princess Charlotte was anxious that the picture should be
finished. We also took long airings before and after dinner, and
everything that could divert her thoughts from the loss she had
sustained was, I thought, necessary to be done, and her life was so
monotonous, that any other young person must have felt it excessively
dull.
About this time, the middle of July, her Royal Highness being really by
no means well, wrote a letter to her father, to request that she might
be allowed to go to the sea-side which was recommended by Sir Henry
Halford, and which all the medical people said she ought to visit every
year till she was five-and-twenty, as she had been accustomed to do till
she went to Windsor in 1812. She sent for Mr. Adam, Miss Mercer’s uncle,
and the Prince’s chancellor,[146] on this business. The request was not
granted; the Prince was much displeased, and said that she was quite
well. He also sent Sir Henry to me, to complain of our having been seen
driving twice one day on the Chiswick road, when the Duke of Devonshire
was giving a great breakfast there. I said the fault was mine, as I had
proposed to drive that way that Princess Charlotte might see the
carriages; that her life had so little variety in it, and her health and
spirits were at that time so indifferent, that I was anxious to do
anything that could cheer her. The Prince scarcely called once in two
months, and she saw none of her family except at the Carlton House
parties.
Another heavy complaint was our going to the painter’s. I agreed that it
would have been better if he could have painted at Warwick House, but
the light would not have suited him for a large picture, and I desired
Sir Henry to assure the Prince how scrupulously careful Mr. Sanders was
as to quiet and privacy, insomuch that he would not let in his friend
and patroness Lady Charlotte Campbell, and I added that the picture was
for the Prince, as Lady Liverpool well knew, for she had discovered that
such a picture was painting, had been to see it, and we had told her its
destination. In the midst of all this sudden fit of ill humour we were
ordered to Windsor, and arrived there on the 31st, to the great
displeasure of Princess Charlotte.
The next day, 1st August, her Royal Highness and the Duchess of Leeds
dined at the Castle, and the Duchess came home to me crying at night,
having been severely reprimanded by the Queen and Prince Regent for her
own conduct and mine. The stories of the Duke of Devonshire, with
exaggerated circumstances, were called up, and, as far as I could
understand from the Duchess’s mutilated account, I was more blamed than
herself. As I found there was no possibility of my justifying myself
with the Prince, and still less with the Queen, I was so shocked that I
really became quite ill, and I wrote the following letter to Lady
Liverpool, in which I defended both Princess Charlotte and myself:
Lower Lodge, Windsor, August 3, 1813.
MY DEAR LADY LIVERPOOL,—I am convinced no apology is necessary for
the trouble I am about to give you, when I consider the length of
time in which I have had the honour of being known to you, the
respect I entertain for the memory of your respected mother, whose
good opinion of me when I was young, and you were a child, was
always particularly flattering to me, and, more than all, the good
sense and delicacy of principle for which you are distinguished.
I confess I have been extremely hurt since my arrival at Windsor, on
finding that my conduct with respect to Princess Charlotte has been
blamed by her Majesty and the Prince Regent. I have had no
opportunity of justifying myself with the latter, as he left this
place without seeing me; and with the former I can have no
explanation, as her Majesty does not speak to me, and has declared
she will have no further communication with me since I left her
service for that of her grand-daughter. It is needless to
recapitulate _why_ I did so, _how much_ I was _urged_ to it, or what
_promises_ of _support_ were made me. I must, however, confess that
I made no conditions, except that I could not be a spy on Princess
Charlotte; and I will only say that I have had no other support than
the great good sense, the excellent disposition, and affectionate
heart of this young Princess, who, providentially, being a very
superior creature to what girls of seventeen generally are, has not
taken advantage of the circumstances in which I was placed, but has
acted in such a manner as to convince me I was perfectly right when
I said that reliance might safely be placed on her honour and
nobleness of temper, and that the only control under which she could
properly act was that of confidence and affection.
As to myself, the various and often very difficult trials I have had
to encounter through life, have, I trust, made known to my friends
that I have always at least wished to act with propriety, and it is
certainly not now that I should begin to adopt an opposite plan of
conduct. What false reports, or exaggerated statements may, from
idleness or envy, have been carried to the Prince Regent, or to the
Queen, I know not, and therefore do not condemn them for what they
said; but this I can solemnly declare, that since I have had the
honour of belonging to Princess Charlotte, I have seen no
impropriety of conduct which could have justified a complaint on my
part, and that had I seen any, such was my confidence in her candour
and condescending kindness to me, and such was my strong sense of
duty, that I should undoubtedly have made proper, though respectful,
representations to her Royal Highness on the subject; but, deprived
as she is of those domestic comforts and amusements which girls of
her age in a less elevated station enjoy, and which even the
Princesses her aunts have always enjoyed with their Royal parents, I
must have had a heart of a very strange composition if, amidst all
her privations (and some of them it is to be remembered of the most
trying nature), I could have contradicted her for trifles innocent
in themselves, and by so doing have lost that confidence which could
alone give me a shadow of authority over her actions and
proceedings.
I have for the last six months given up all visits to my friends,
all avocations connected with my duty at Warwick House, and, in
short, everything that could deprive me of the power of saying that
I had done my duty, and that I could answer for the conduct of
Princess Charlotte at every hour and moment of the day and night.
You will not think this an intrusion on your time, my dear Lady
Liverpool. The subject is in itself of sufficient importance; and
the temperate conduct of Lord Liverpool, as well as the moral
propriety and domestic happiness which secure to you both the esteem
of the public, are so many reasons for making me desirous of
standing well in your opinions, that I cannot deny myself the
satisfaction of explaining what I feared might be misinterpreted to
his lordship and to you.
Believe me, &c.
Lady Liverpool wrote a courteous answer, but which, in one respect, was
unsatisfactory, as it implied that my justification depended on Princess
Charlotte’s conduct, whereas I endeavoured to prove that the want of
support I had experienced, contrary to all promises made me, rendered it
not only difficult, but even impossible, to be of any other use than
what Princess Charlotte’s confidence and good nature might allow. I
showed her my letter before I sent it, and afterwards the answer.[147]
Miss Mercer came about this time to stay two or three days at Windsor,
on a visit to Princess Charlotte; but not having leave to sleep in the
house, I got a room for her at Mrs. Hallam’s, who was absent. She was
evidently annoyed at my having written to Lady Liverpool, her friend
Lady Bathurst and Lady L. being _dear friends_ and _great enemies_—at
least, according to Miss Mercer’s representations; and perhaps it was
really the case, but I felt I had done right, and I told Princess
Charlotte there was no dependence to be placed on any of these people,
hinting to her that most probably their only reason for paying court to
Miss Mercer was to make her useful, and that everybody said the consent
for her Royal Highness seeing Miss Mercer again had only been given to
detach her from the Princess of Wales. Of course Princess Charlotte
repeated this to Miss Mercer, and the effect it had was to make that
young lady particularly attentive to me. She wrote to me after her
departure in the most confidential and flattering manner, particularly
explaining a circumstance in which it appeared that the Princess of
Wales had acted very imprudently with respect to Princess Charlotte, and
in which she (Miss M.) interposed in the properest manner. I was pleased
with this, and from that time Miss Mercer and I were on the best terms,
and, as I thought, in common with her Royal Highness, treated every
subject in the most confidential manner.
The Prince Regent’s birthday, 12th August, was kept at the new Military
College at Sandhurst, where the Queen was to present new colours to the
Cadet Battalion. All the Royal Family, the ministers and their wives,
and a few others, were present. The Bishop of Salisbury had previously
consecrated the chapel, and Sir Alexander Hope,[148] whose heart seemed
quite devoted to this interesting colony, was all attention and
propriety. His sister, the Dowager Lady Melville, lately appointed one
of the Ladies of the Bedchamber to the Queen, assisted Lady Hope in
doing the honours; as did the sister of the latter, Lady Hampden. The
Prince did not speak to Princess Charlotte, the Duchess, or me, but
looked as if he wished to annihilate us. However, the day in other
respects passed very well, and the establishment was highly deserving of
praise. The Royal Family dined in the house, the rest of the company
under tents in the garden, and in the evening there was a little dance
of five or six couples, promoted by the Duke of Clarence. The day had
been remarkably hot, and the evening was a beautiful moonlight. When the
Queen was about to depart, the Prince Regent was not to be found, and we
afterwards learned that he, with the Duke of York, Prince of Orange (the
father),[149] and many others, were under the table. The Duke of York
hurt his head very seriously against a wine cellaret. In short, it was a
sad business. We went home very quietly in an open carriage by the
lovely moonlight.
On the 16th, the Duke of York’s birthday, arrived the hereditary Prince
of Orange with the account of a great victory gained by Lord Wellington
over the French army, commanded by Soult. A large party dined that day
at Frogmore, of whom I was one, and we expected to see the hereditary
Prince, but the Regent did not bring him. The Regent was in no better
humour than on the 12th, but Lord Yarmouth paid great court to the
Princess Charlotte, to the Duchess, and to me. The Prince Regent would
not come to see the Princess Charlotte at the Lower Lodge, and gave, as
an excuse, that he could not bear to see those d—— ladies, meaning the
Duchess and myself—so, at least, we were told. Had I been the Duchess I
think I should have resigned; but perhaps not, as I thought this species
of conduct, without any real ground, was possibly meant to force us to
this step by making our lives disagreeable. I told Sir H. Halford so,
and he asserted the contrary.
Soon afterwards, we had an invitation to dine at Lord Liverpool’s, at
Coombe Wood, to meet the Queen and Princesses. Lady Liverpool sent the
invitation to the Duchess, and next morning I received a private letter
from her, mentioning the company we were to meet, and particularly all
the young ladies, who, she hoped, might be pleasant society for Princess
Charlotte, recommending to my notice a young person, a relation of hers,
whose timidity would require support. The Oranges were not mentioned,
neither was it said at the Castle that they were to be there; but
Princess Charlotte had private information to that effect, and, I
believe, it was to have been so. On which account her Royal Highness
availed herself of the excuse of not being well, put on a blister a day
sooner than she had intended, and did not go.
I was sorry for this, because, if it was a trick, it was one easily
foiled by dignity of conduct; and I was more sorry for her Royal
Highness’s going very soon after to the Egham races, though she was not
well enough to do more than sit in her carriage. Her mind was worried,
she had a pain in her side, and her health always suffered from the
climate and water of Windsor, as well as the constant worry.
Sir H. Halford was at this time continually at the lodge, a great
favourite of the Duchess, and constantly charged with messages from the
Castle. One of his affairs there was to negotiate a marriage between the
Duke of Brunswick and Princess Mary, of which it was to be understood
the latter knew nothing. Poor Princess Charlotte was most willing to do
all she could to persuade her uncle[150] to this step, but it would not
do, and, I dare say, was never forgiven by the Prince, if he knew it;
which most probably he did. For neither Princess Mary nor Sir H. Halford
would have ventured without being sure of his approbation, and the
subsequent conduct of the Prince Regent to the Duke manifestly proved
his displeasure. Hints were given with great caution of wishes in favour
of the Prince of Orange, but Princess Charlotte had shown so great a
dislike to that business, that nothing was said openly.
At last, in consequence of a confidential conversation between Princess
Charlotte and Princess Mary, I found the latter had warmly recommended
marriage to the former, and next evening there was a long interview with
Sir Henry; after which Princess Charlotte told me she had brought him
round with respect to one person. I could not guess whom she meant, but
thought it might be the Duke of Kent. She said, “No, it was the Duke of
Gloucester;” and in the evening she told me that they all wanted her to
marry, and that she saw they wished for the hereditary Prince of Orange,
but that she would never marry him,[151] and had told Sir Henry that the
Duke of Gloucester was the most eligible person, and the one she would
prefer.
I felt rather hurt that she should have committed herself in this
manner, more particularly as I was sure she had no partiality whatever
for the Duke; but I answered that it certainly was a marriage which in
the eye of reason could not be disapproved, but that I was convinced
neither the Regent nor any of the family would hear of it, the Duke’s
politics being a sufficient bar, added to the want of birth on his
mother’s side. Besides, I could not help reminding her of the difference
of age, and, I added, I never saw anything to make me believe she liked
him. Princess Charlotte answered that all this was perfectly true, but
that she could never expect to marry from inclination, and that the
Duke’s character and temper were so good that she might reasonably look
forward to being treated with kindness, and to see her husband esteemed
by the nation.
In all this I heartily concurred, but still I felt exceedingly surprised
at her having started it so suddenly, and augured nothing good from the
proceeding. I expressed my astonishment to Sir Henry, and, at the same
time, my total ignorance of the measure until it had taken place. When
Sir Henry returned next time from town, he said that the Prince had
taken it more calmly than he had expected, and that he would come very
soon to Windsor and talk it over with Princess Charlotte, but that he
could not give hope that the result would be favourable. I begged only
that the Prince would see his daughter at the Lower Lodge, as she always
felt hurt at being only sent for to the Castle for the purpose of seeing
him in her aunt’s room.
The Prince came, and to the Lower Lodge. Princess Charlotte was desirous
that I should see him first, and I met him on the stairs. He at first
looked displeased, but I entered into an explanation with him on the
former grievances, and cleared up the falsehoods. I heard what he chose
to say on the present subject with proper respect, and he became very
good-humoured towards me; but when Princess Charlotte came in, although
he did not raise his voice, and said he would be very calm and very
affectionate, he was certainly as bitter as possible on the Duke of
Gloucester, and not a little so to Princess Charlotte. He positively
refused giving his consent to this union, but added, what I thought most
important, that so far from ever wishing to control her inclinations, he
would not even urge her to comply with any proposals by recommendatory
means. He said he was himself too severe a sufferer to wish any other
person, and especially a child of his own, to know the misery of an
ill-assorted marriage; that he would invite over many of the Princes of
the Continent (for that a subject of England she could not marry), and
she might then have her choice; that with respect to the hereditary
Prince of Orange, whom she seemed to apprehend being forced on her, he
would not bring him to Frogmore on the Duke of York’s birthday, that she
might not think he meant to recommend him (he took occasion, however, to
praise him several times during this visit); and he ended by saying that
her happiness and her honour were the wishes nearest to his heart.
When he took leave of her, and remained with me, he expressed great
displeasure, and hinted a suspicion of her doing all this as a blind,
and of her being attached to the Duke of Devonshire. I defended her on
that point, but said that I regretted her having proposed the marriage
with the Duke of Gloucester in the manner she had done, and that I
wished to prevent her having such long conferences with Sir Henry,
farther than medical advice might render them necessary, as I was
mindful of his Royal Highness’s injunction of not leaving her alone with
gentlemen; an injunction which my own sense of propriety rendered
unnecessary. The Prince said that Sir Henry was the friend of the
family, and that he had not the slightest objection to her being left
alone with him; on the contrary, he had often sent messages by him.
I could never discover who had advised Princess Charlotte to this step,
but I am convinced it was brought on by Princess Mary and Sir Henry
urging the necessity of her marrying. I was very uneasy about it, but I
wished to impress on her mind that she had so far gained a great point
in having the Prince’s promise that he would never force her
inclinations, and that she could always refer to this promise in case of
necessity. But the fact was, they were using every means to bring about
a marriage with the Prince of Orange, without choosing to appear in it,
or to give her the merit of consenting from a feeling of duty. Underhand
means of all sorts were put in practice, and Lady Anne Smith and her
daughters, while staying at Oatlands, came over to make a visit, and
warmly advocated the cause.
About this time her Royal Highness, by the advice of Miss Mercer, with
whom she constantly communicated, entered into another correspondence,
which promised great utility. Politics were not concerned in it, and
nothing could be more correct than the advice given with respect to her
filial duty, as well as other points of her conduct. To this friend she
communicated what had passed with her father, and the advice was, if
possible, to comply with his wishes with regard to the Prince of Orange,
but if resolved to marry the Duke of Gloucester, to wait patiently until
the age of twenty-one, when more efficacious measures might be pursued.
This adviser professed himself the friend of the Duke, but certainly was
fair and impartial in the manner in which he wrote.
As she was to be eighteen on her next birthday, she was very anxious
about the establishment which she doubted not then to obtain, and as it
evidently appeared to me, from her conversation, that she had been
advised to have none but people of high rank about her, and young
people, I thought it necessary to write her the following letter, which
I gave into her own hand, expressing my wish to leave her entirely at
liberty with respect to myself.
MISS KNIGHT TO THE PRINCESS CHARLOTTE.
MY DEAREST MADAM,—There is a subject on which I have for some time
wished to speak to your Royal Highness, but finding that my feelings
will not allow me to mention it without being completely overcome, I
think it best to trouble you with a few lines of explanation, as I
am sensible it is not right to defer it longer.
The time for your Royal Highness having a new establishment is
rapidly approaching, and I know your way of thinking is not only so
just and honourable, but also so kind and considerate, that you may
perhaps feel embarrassed with respect to me. I therefore wish that
you should consider yourself perfectly at liberty.
It is needless to repeat what passed when I entered into the service
of your Royal Highness. Had I not been assured that it was your
particular desire, I should not have yielded to the Prince’s
entreaties. I thought I saw a noble disposition misunderstood, great
talents unperceived or discouraged, and strong feelings so harassed
as to be rendered dangerous to their possessor. I flattered myself
that I might at least be a negative comfort, and by perhaps
soothing, certainly not tormenting, give scope for the display of
those amiable and exalted qualities which vexation and contradiction
might tarnish. Thus far I trust I may have succeeded; and I shall
therefore retire in some measure satisfied with what I have done,
and with the most ardent and fervent prayers for the happiness of my
ever-dear Royal mistress. I am no longer young; my spirits have been
broken by the vicissitudes and sorrows of a life of disappointments.
I have no connexions, and few friends left who can promote the
interests of your Royal Highness, or give support to me in the
slippery path which I have already found so difficult to tread. It
is therefore perhaps better, both for your Royal Highness and
myself, that I should retire, even if you wished me to remain, and
also that, when I retire, I should withdraw myself entirely. The
pang will be dreadful when I am obliged to leave you; for the
romance of my life has been attachment, and I feel for your Royal
Highness an interest of which, after various afflictions I had
experienced, I no longer thought myself capable; that interest I
shall still feel, but it will occasion me less pain at a distance
than were I to see you only now and then, after having passed so
many months constantly in your society.
I trust I need not add that every confidential communication with
which you have been pleased to honour me shall be sacred, and that
the very few friends with whom I shall associate for the remainder
of my life will hear nothing from me but expressions of gratitude
for your goodness.
I shall also for ever feel grateful to the Prince for having placed
me with you; but should he (from a recollection of the promise he
made Lord Moira never to give me up) urge you to retain me in your
service, I beg you will not think yourself under any necessity to
comply with his request. I may be proud, but I do not think that I
am either interested or ambitious. I will stay while I can be of any
the slightest service to your Royal Highness, but I will never be a
burden to you, or prevent you from filling a place about you more
worthily.
I trust your Royal Highness will not consider what I have said as a
liberty. I feel it as an urgent though a very painful duty, and must
therefore risk the consequences. That every blessing may attend you,
will be to my latest hour the prayer of,
My dearest madam,
Your Royal Highness’s
Most dutiful and most devoted servant,
ELLIS CORNELIA KNIGHT.
Lower Lodge, Windsor, Oct. 27, 1813.
I was much overcome, and ill for two days after writing this letter,
which I believe hurt her; but she said nothing to me on the subject, and
we went on as usual at Windsor, never so comfortable as in town, but no
disputes. We had Vacari there and Vitalba (the drawing-master). I
persuaded her to invite the Queen and Princesses, with their own
society, to some music, and it succeeded very well.
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