Produced by David McClamrock
MEMOIR OF QUEEN ADELAIDE,
CONSORT OF KING WILLIAM IV.
BY DR. DORAN,
AUTHOR OF "LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND OF THE HOUSE OF HANOVER," ETC.
LONDON:
RICHARD BENTLEY, NEW BURLINGTON STREET.
1861.
[The right of Translation is reserved.]
LONDON:
PRINTED BY G. PHIPPS, 13 & 14, TOTHILL STREET, WESTMINSTER.
ADELAIDE OF SAXE-MEINENGEN.
Und ich an meinem Abend, wollte,
Ich haette, diesem Weibe gleich,
Erfuellt was ich erfuellen sollte
In meinen Graenzen und Bereich.
A. VON CHAMISSO.
The pocket Duchy--Old customs--Early training--The Father of the
Princess Adelaide--Social life at the ducal court--Training of the
Princess Adelaide--Marriage preliminaries--English parliament--The Duke
of Clarence--Arrival in London of the Princess--Quaint royal
weddings--At home and abroad--Duke and Duchess of Clarence at
Bushey--"State and Dirt" at St. James's--William IV. and Queen
Adelaide--Course of life of the new Queen Consort--King's gallantry to
an old love--Royal simplicity--The Sovereigns and the Sovereign
people--Court anecdotes--Drawing rooms--Princess Victoria--The
coronation--Incidents of the day--Coronation finery of George
IV.--Princess Victoria not present--Revolutionary period--Reform
question--Unpopularity of the Queen--Attacks against her on the part of
the press--Violence of party-spirit--Friends and foes--Bearing of the
King and Queen--Duchess of Augouleme--King a republican--His
indiscretion--Want of temper--Continental press adverse to the
Queen--King's declining health--Conduct of Queen Adelaide--King
William's death--Declining health of the Queen--Her travels in search
of health--Her last illness--Her will--Death--And funeral.
THE little Duchy of Saxe-Meinengen was once a portion of the
inheritance of the princely Franconian house of Henneberg. The failure
of the male line transferred it, in 1583, to the family of reigning
Saxon princes. In 1680, it fell to the third son of the Saxon Duke,
Ernest the Pious. The name of this son was Bernard. This Duke is looked
upon as the founder of the House of Meinengen. He was much devoted to
the study of Alchemy, and was of a pious turn, like his father, as far,
as may be judged by the volumes of manuscript notes he left behind
him--which he had made on the sermons of his various court-preachers.
The law of primogeniture was not yet in force when Duke Bernard died,
in 1706. One consequence was, that Bernard's three sons, with Bernard's
brother, ruled the little domain in common. In 1746, the sole surviving
brother, Antony Ulrich, the luckiest of this ducal Tontine, was monarch
of all he surveyed, within a limited space. The conglomerate ducal
sovereigns were plain men, formal, much given to ceremony, and not much
embarrassed by intellect. There was one man, however, who had enough
for them all: namely, George Spanginburg, brother of the Moravian
bishop of the latter name, and who was, for some time, the Secretary of
State at the court of Saxe-Meinengen.
Antony Ulrich reigned alone from 1746 to 1763. He was of a more
enlightened character than any of the preceding princes, had a taste
for the arts, when he could procure pictures cheaply, and strong
inclination towards pretty living pictures, which led to lively rather
than pleasant controversies at court. His own marriage with Madame
Scharmann disgusted the young ladies of princely houses in Germany, and
especially exasperated the aristocracy of Meinengen. They were scarcely
pacified by the fact, that the issue of the marriage was declared
incapable of succeeding to the inheritance.
The latter fell in 1763 to two young brothers, kinsfolk of Antony, and
sons of the late Duke of Gotha, who reigned for some years together.
The elder, Charles, died in 1782. From that period till 1803, the other
brother, George, reigned alone. He had no sooner become sole sovereign,
than he married the Princess Louisa of Hohenlohe Langenburg. At the end
of ten years, the first child of this marriage was born, namely
Adelaide, the future Queen of England.
Eight years later, in the last year of the last century A.D. 1800, a
male heir to the pocket-duchy was born, and then was introduced into
Meinengen the law which fixed the succession in the eldest male heir
only. Saxe-Meinengen was the last country in Europe in which this law
was established.
The father of the Princess Adelaide, like his brother Charles, was a
man of no mean powers. Both were condescending enough to visit even the
burgher families of Saxe-Meinengen; and Charles had so little respect
for vice in high places, that when a German prince acted contrary to
the rights of his people, the offender found himself soundly lashed in
paper and pamphlet, the pseudonymous signature to which could not
conceal the person of the writer--the hasty Duke Charles. If this
sometimes made him unpopular over the frontier, he was beloved within
it. How could the people but love a sovereign Duke who, when a child
was born to him, asked citizens of good repute rather than of high rank
to come and be gossips?
In the revolutionary war, Duke George fought like a hero. At home, he
afforded refuge to bold but honest writers, driven from more mighty
states. He beautified his city, improved the country; and, without
being of great mental cultivation himself, he loved to collect around
him, scholars, philosophers, artists, authors, gentlemen. With these he
lived on the most familiar terms, and when I say that Schiller and John
Paul Richter were of the number, I afford some idea of the society
which Duke George cared chiefly to cultivate. He buried his own mother
in the common church-yard, because she was worthy, he said, of lying
among her own subjects. The majority of these were country folk, but
George esteemed the country folk, and at rustic festivals he was not
unwilling to share a jug of beer with any of them. Perhaps the rustics
loved him more truly than the sages, to whom he proved, occasionally,
something wearisome. But these were often hard to please. All, however,
felt an honest grief, when, on the Christmas night, of 1803, Duke
George died, after a brief illness, caused, it is said, by a neglected
cold, and the rage at an urgent demand from the Kaiser, of 60,000
florins, fine-money for knightly orders, ducally declined.
The Duke left a young family, Adelaide, Ida, and his son and successor,
Bernard, then only three years of age. The mother of these fatherless
children took upon herself the office of guardian, with that of Regent
of the duchy. The duties of both were performed with rare judgment and
firmness, during a time of much trouble and peril, especially when the
French armies were overrunning and devastating Germany.
On the young ladies, gently and wisely reared in this little court,
Queen Charlotte had begun to look with the foresight of a mother who
had elderly and wayward sons to marry. When the death of the Princess
Charlotte of Wales threatened to interrupt the direct succession of the
crown, the unmatched brothers of the Regent thought of taking unto
themselves wives. Cumberland had married according to his, but to no
other person's, liking, hardly even that of his wife. The Dukes of Kent
and Cambridge made better choice; and there then remained but the
sailor-prince to be converted into a Benedict. The Queen selected his
bride for him, and he approved, or acquiesced in the selection. He
might, as far as age goes, have been her father, but that was of small
account; and when Adelaide of Saxe-Meinengen was spoken of, men
conversant with contemporary history, knew her to be the good daughter
of an accomplished and an exemplary mother.
The preliminaries of the marriage were carried out amid so much
opposition, that at one moment the accomplishment of the marriage
itself wore a very doubtful aspect. The difficulty was of a pecuniary
nature. The Dukes of Kent and Cambridge were content, on the occasion
of their respective marriages, to accept an addition to their income of
L6,000. The Duke of Cumberland was compelled to rest content, or
otherwise, without any addition at all,--save the expenses of a wife.
With the Duke of Clarence it was different. He already possessed
L18,000 per annum, and ministers resolved, after a private meeting with
their supporters, to request the Parliament to allow him an increase of
L10,000. On the 13th of April, 1818, a message from the Prince Regent
to that effect, was submitted to either House, by Lord Castlereagh and
the Earl of Liverpool. In the Commons, the first-named Lord hinted at
the dependence of our Princes on the liberality of Parliament, since
the time when the crown had surrendered its long uncontrolled disposal
of revenues. But the House was not to be "suggested" into a generosity
which might be beyond justice. Tierney, the gad-fly of his period,
complained of the previous meeting of the friends of ministers, and the
communication to them, before it was made to the House, of the amount
to be applied for. Methuen insisted, that before the Commons would
grant a farthing, they must be made acquainted with all the sources
from which the King's sons derived their present revenue, as well as
the amount of the revenue itself. Finally, Holme Sumner met the
proposal of an additional L10,000, by a counter-proposal of L6,000.
This was carried by a narrow majority of one hundred and ninety-three
to one hundred and eighty-four; and when this sum was offered to the
Duke, he peremptorily declined to accept it.
Things did not progress more in tune with marriage-bells in the House
of Lords. There, when Lord Liverpool stated what his royal client would
be contented to receive, Lord King started to his legs and exclaimed,
"That the question was not what it might please the Duke of Clarence to
take, but what it might please the people to give him!" They were not
willing to give what he expected, and for a time it seemed as if there
would consequently be no marriage with the Princess of Saxe-Meinengen.
But only for a time.
"The Duke of Clarence is going to be married, after all," was a common
phrase launched by the newspapers, and taken up by the people, in 1818.
If the phrase had but one meaning, it had a double application. In the
former sense, it had reference to the disinclination of Parliament to
increase his income, without which he had expressed his determination
not to marry. It was further applied, however, to the old course of his
old loves. There were the years spent with Dora Bland, then "Mrs.
Jordan," the actress,--years of an intercourse which had much of the
quiet, happy character of a modest English home,--the breaking-up of
which brought such great grief to the mother in that home, that even
every service subsequently rendered to her, seemed to partake of the
quality of offence. It has been registered as such, by those who heard
more of the wailing of the Ariadne, than they knew of the
groundlessness of it, when vented in reproaches for leaving her
unprovided for as well as deserted.
Then the public remembered how this light-of-heart Duke had been a
suitor to other ladies. He was the rival of Wellesley Pole, for the
favour and the fortune of the great heiress, Miss Tilney Long. That
ill-fated lady conferred on this wooer of humbler degree, the office of
slaying her happiness, sapping her life, and mining her estate. The
other lady, who declined the Duke's offer of his hand, or petition for
her own, was Miss Sophia Wykeham, of Thame Park, daughter and sole
heiress of an Oxfordshire 'squire. Each lady had merits of her own, and
other attractions besides those which lay in the _beaux yeux de sa
cassette_; but, perhaps, each remembered the clauses of the royal
marriage act; however this may have been, Miss Tilney chose between her
suitors, while Miss Wykeham, after turning from the prayer of the Duke,
never stooped to listen to a lowlier wooer.
These were the "antecedents" of the lover who, in maturer age, took,
rather than asked for, the hand of Adelaide of Saxe-Meinengen. Of all
the actions of his life, it was the one which brought him the most
happiness; and with that true woman he had better fortune than is
altogether merited by a man, who, after a long bachelorship of no great
repute, settles down in middle-life to respectability and content,
under the influences of a virtuous woman, gifted with an excellent
degree of common-sense.
In the dusk of a July evening, in the year 1818, this unwooed bride
quietly arrived, with her mother, at Grillon's Hotel, Albemarle Street.
She had but cool reception for a lady on such mission as her own. There
was no one to bid her welcome; the Regent was at Carlton House at
dinner, and the Duke of Clarence was out of town on a visit. Except the
worthy Mr. Grillon himself, no person seemed the gladder for her
coming. In the course of the evening, however, the Regent drove down to
Albemarle Street; and, at a later hour, the more tardy future-husband
was carried up to the door in a carriage drawn by four horses, with as
much rapidity as became a presumed lover of his age, in whom a certain
show of zeal was becoming.
The strangers became at once acquainted; and acquaintance is said to
have developed itself speedily into friendship. The family-party
remained together till near upon the "wee sma'" hours; there was much
indulgence there, we are told, of good, honest, informal hilarity; and
when the illustrious and joyous circle broke up, the easy grace,
frankness, and courtesy of the Regent, and the freedom and
light-heartedness of the Duke, are said to have left favourable
impressions on both the mother and the daughter.
Quaintest of royal weddings was that which now took place in old Kew
Palace. Indeed, there were two, for the Duke of Kent who had gallantly
fetched his wife from abroad, and had married her there, according to
Lutheran rites, was now re-married to his bride, according to the forms
of the Church of England. Early in the day, there was a dinner, at
which the most important personages in that day's proceedings were
present. The old house at Kew seemed blushing in its reddest of bricks,
out of pure enjoyment. The Regent gave the bride away; and, the
ceremony concluded, the wedded couples paid a visit to the old Queen in
her private apartment. She was too ill, then, to do more than
congratulate her sons, and wish happiness to the married. The Duke and
Duchess of Kent thereupon departed, but the Duke and Duchess of
Clarence remained,--guests at a joyous tea party, at which the Regent
presided, and which was prepared alfresco, in the vicinity of the
Pagoda. It must have been a thousand times a merrier matter than
wedding state-dinners of the olden times, at which brides were wearied
into suffering and sulkiness. If the figure about "cups which cheer but
not inebriate" had not been worn to the finest tenuity, I might at once
give it, here, application and illustration. Suffice it to say, that a
more joyous party of noble men and women never met in mirthful
greenwood; and when the princely pair took their leave, for St.
James's, the Regent led the hilarious cheer, and sped them on their
way, with a "hurrah!" worthy of his bright and younger days.
The Regent, undoubtedly, manifested a clearer sense of the fitness of
things, on this occasion, than either of the managers of the theatres,
honoured by the presence of the newly-married couple soon after the
union.
At Drury Lane, was given the "Marriage of Figaro," and Covent Garden
complimented the Duke and Duchess with the "Provoked Husband."
It cannot be said that the public looked with much enthusiasm on any of
the royal marriages. Such unions with rare exceptions, are unpleasantly
free from sentiment or romance; and, in the present instances, there
was such a matter-of-fact air of mere "business" about these contracts
and ceremonies, such an absence of youth, and the impulses and the
dignity of youth, that the indifferent public, even remembering the
importance of securing a lineal succession to the throne, was slow to
offer either congratulation or sympathy. The caricaturists, on the
other hand, were busy with a heavy and not very delicate wit; and
fashionable papers, uniting implied censure with faint praise, observed
that "the Duchesses of Kent, Clarence, and Cambridge are very deficient
in the English language. They can scarcely speak a sentence. They
possess most amiable dispositions." It may be added, that they also
possessed true womanly qualities which won for them the esteem of
husbands, of whom two of the three, at least, had never been remarkable
for a chivalrous, a gentlemanlike, a manly respect for women. That was
a sort of homage rarely paid by most of the sons of George III., and I
am afraid, that our fathers generally are obnoxious to the same remark.
After a brief residence at St. James's, and as brief a sojourn at the
Duke's residence in Bushey Park, the Duke and Duchess of Clarence
repaired to Hanover, and remained there about a year,--no incident
marking the time that is worthy of observation. The issue of this
marriage scarcely survived the birth. In March 1819, a daughter was
born, but to survive only a few hours. In December 1820, another
princess gladdened the hearts of her parents, only to quench the
newly-raised joy by her death in March of the following year. The loss
was the keener felt because of the hopes that had been raised; and the
grief experienced by the Duke and Duchess was tenderly nourished,
rather than relieved, by the exquisite art of Chantrey, which, at the
command of the parents, reproduced the lost child, in marble,--sleeping
for ever where it lay.
The household at Bushey was admirably regulated by the Duchess, who had
been taught the duties as well as the privileges of greatness. The
fixed rule was, never to allow expenditure to exceed income. It is a
golden rule which, when observed, renders men, in good truth, as rich
as Croesus. It is a rule which, if universally observed, would render
the world prosperous, and pauperism a legend. It was a rule the more
required to be honoured in this case, as the Duke had large calls upon
his income. When those were provided for, old liabilities effaced, and
current expenses defrayed, the surplus was surrendered to charity.
There was no saving for the sake of increase of income,--economy was
practised for justice-sake, and the Duke and Duchess were so just, that
they found themselves able to be largely generous. With the increased
means placed at their disposal by the death of the Duke of York, there
was but trifling increase of expenditure. If something was added to
their comforts, they benefitted who were employed to procure them; and,
if there was some little additional luxury in the rural palace of
Bushey, the neighbouring poor were never forgotten in the selfish
enjoyment of it.
In 1824, the Duke and Duchess of Clarence had apartments in St. James's
Palace, where, however, they seem to have been as roughly accommodated,
considering their condition, as any mediaeval prince and princess in
the days of stone walls thinly tapestried and stone floors scantily
strewn with rushes. The Duke cared little about the matter himself, but
he gallantly supported the claims of his wife. In a letter addressed to
Sir William Knighton, the King's privy purse, in 1824, he thus
expresses himself--from St. James's Palace:--
"His Majesty having so graciously pleased to listen to my suggestion
respecting the alteration for the Hanoverian office, at the palace, I
venture once more to trouble you on the point of the building intended
for that purpose. To the accommodation of the Duchess, this additional
slip at the back of the present apartments, would be most to be wished
and desired, and never can make a complete Hanoverian office without
our kitchen, which the King has so kindly allowed us to keep. Under
this perfect conviction, I venture to apply for this slip of building
which was intended for the Hanoverian office. I am confident His
Majesty is fully aware of the inconvenience and unfitness of our
present apartments here. They were arranged for me in 1809, when I was
a bachelor, and without an idea at that time of my ever being married,
since which, now fifteen years, nothing has been done to them, and you
well know the dirt and unfitness for the Duchess of our present abode.
Under these circumstances, I earnestly request, for the sake of the
amiable and excellent Duchess, you will, when the King is quite
recovered, represent the wretched state and dirt of our apartments, and
the infinite advantage this slip would produce to the convenience and
comfort of the Duchess .... God bless the King and yourself, and ever
believe me, &c.--WILLIAM."
Though often as ungrammatical and inelegant, it was seldom the Duke was
so explicit in his correspondence as he is in the above letter.
Generally, he wrote in ambiguous phrases, very puzzling to the
uninitiated; but when his Duchess Adelaide was in question, and her
comfort was concerned, he became quite graphic on the "state and dirt"
in which they passed their London days, in the old, dingy, leper-house
palace of St. James's.
With the exception of the period during which the Duke held the office
of Lord High Admiral, 1827-28,--an office which may be said to have
been conferred on him by Canning, and of which he was deprived by the
Duke of Wellington,--with the exception above noted, this royal couple
lived in comparative retirement till the 26th of June, 1830, on which
day, the demise of George IV. summoned them to ascend the throne.
It is said that when the news of the death of George IV. was announced
to the Duchess of Clarence, the new Queen burst into tears. The
prayer-book she held in her hand, at the moment, she conferred on the
noble messenger, as a memorial of the incident, and of her regret. The
messenger looked, perhaps, for a more costly guerdon; but she was
thinking only of her higher and stranger duties. If Queen Adelaide
really regretted that these now had claims upon her, not less was their
advent regretted by certain of the labouring poor of Bushey, whose
harvest-homes had never been so joyous as since the Duke and Duchess of
Clarence had been living among them.
The course of life of the new Queen was only changed in degree. Her
income was larger, so also were her charities. Her time had more calls
upon it, but her cheerfulness was not diminished. Her evenings were
generally given up to tapestry work, and as she bent over the frame,
many of the circle around her already sorrowingly remarked, that the
new Queen, though not old in years, seemed descending into the vale of
life.
The esteem of her husband for her was equal to her merits. His
affection and respect were boundless; and when the senate granted her,
on the motion of Lord Althorpe, L100,000 per annum, with Marlborough
House and Bushey Park, in case she survived the King, the good old
monarch was the first to congratulate her, and was pleased to put her
in office, himself, by appointing her Perpetual Ranger of the Park,
which was to become her own at his decease.
I shall not anticipate matters very violently, or unjustifiably,
perhaps, if I notice here, that William IV. was not forgetful of his
old loves, and that Queen Adelaide was not jealous of such memories.
She looked more indulgently than the general public did, on the
ennobling of his children of the Jordan family. If that step could have
been met by objections, in these later days, it was at least supported
by that amazingly powerful, but sometimes perilous engine, precedent.
Though indeed, there was precedent for the contrary; and perhaps the
husband of Queen Adelaide would have manifested a greater sense of
propriety on this occasion, had he rather followed the decent example,
in a like matter, of the scrupulous Richard the Third than that of
Henry the Eighth or the Second Charles.
There was another ennobling, however, which the public as warmly
approved as the Queen heartily sanctioned. In 1834, her husband raised
to the dignity of a Baroness, the lady who had declined to share with
him whatever of higher or more equivocal honour he could have
conferred, by marrying her. In that year, Miss Wykeham became, by the
grateful memory and good taste of her old royal lover, Baroness Wenman
of Thame Park, Oxon. This testimony of the memory of an old affection
was an act to be honoured by a Queen, and to it that royal homage was
freely tendered. Enquirers, on turning over the peerage books, may
discover many honours conferred on women too ready to listen to the
suit of a monarch; but, here, for the first time, was a title of
nobility presented to a lady who had declined to give ear to royal
suit, paid in honesty and honour.
The fact is that there was something chivalrous in the bearing of the
King towards ladies; hearty, but a courteous heartiness. This sort of
tribute he loved to render to his wife; and there was nothing so
pleasant to hear, in his replies to addresses, after his accession, as
the gallant allusions to the qualities of the Queen, who stood at his
side, serenely satisfied. This heartiness was not an affectation in
him. "It was of his nature; and another phase of his character was
manifested by King William at the first dinner after he ascended the
throne, at which his relations only were present. On that pleasant
occasion, although it was a family dinner, he gave as a toast:--"Family
peace and affection;" it was the hearty sentiment of a citizen King who
loved quiet and simple ways, who walked the streets with his intimate
friends, and often occupied the box-seat of his carriage, turning round
to converse with the Queen, inside.
When Adelaide became Queen Consort, some persons who would not have
been ill-pleased to see her fail, affected to fear that the homely
Duchess should prove to be unequal to the exigencies of the queenly
character. One person, I remember, hinted that, in this matter, she
would not do ill, were she to take counsel of the Princess Elizabeth of
Hesse Homburg, "than whom none could better record to Her Majesty the
forms, and usages, and _prescriptions_ of the court of Queen
Charlotte." But Queen Adelaide needed no such instruction as the good
daughter of George III. could give her. She observed the forms and
usages that were worthy of observance; and as for _proscriptions_, she
could proscribe readily enough when duty demanded the service,--as the
Church felt, with mingled feelings, when she declined to invite
clergymen to her state balls or to her dancing _soirees_. The dancing
clergy had their opportunity for censure, when the King and Queen gave
dinner-parties on the Sunday.
The court was essentially a homely court. The two sovereigns fed
thousands of the poor in Windsor Park, and looked on at the feasting.
The Queen went shopping to Brighton Fancy Fairs, and when on one
occasion she bent to pick up the "reticule" which an infirm old lady
had dropped, as much was made of it as of the incident of King Francis,
who picked up (or did not pick up) Titian's pencil, and handed it to
that sovereign gentleman among artists.
Then the new sovereigns paid more private visits than any pair who had
hitherto occupied the British throne. While the Queen called on Sir
David and Lady Scott, at Brighton, her royal husband, with whom she had
just previously been walking, on the Esplanade, would suddenly appear
at the door of some happy but disconcerted old Admiral, and invite the
veteran and his wife to dinner. To the hearty, "Come along, directly,"
if there was a glance from the lady at her toilet, the Citizen-King
would encourage her by an intimation, never to mind it, for he and his
wife were quiet people; "and, indeed," as he once remarked, "the Queen
does nothing after dinner but embroider flowers." Which, indeed, was
true enough, and--to tell the truth--very dull, as I am assured, did
the finer people find it.
The consequence of this familiarity of the sovereigns with their
humbler friends, was a rather audacious familiarity ventured upon by
people who left their queer names in the book at the King's door, and
more than once successfully passed it, and penetrated to the Queen's
drawing-room. This evil, however, was soon remedied. There were other
matters Queen Adelaide was bold enough to, at least, attempt to remedy.
Indecorousness of dress, in a lady, she would censure as sharply as
Queen Charlotte; and if, when Mrs. Blomfield appeared at her first
drawing-room, in a "train of rich immortal velvet," as the fashionable
chroniclers of the day call it, she did not even hint surprise, it was
perhaps out of respect for the successor of the Apostles, of whom that
good, but richly velvetted, lady was the honoured wife.
The letter-writers who dealt with court incidents at the period of the
accession of this domestic couple tell of various illustrations of the
simplicity of the new sovereigns, When the Duke of Norfolk had an
interview with William IV. at Bushey,--on the affair which had brought
him thither being concluded, the King declared he must not leave the
house without seeing the Queen; and thereupon ringing the bell, he bade
the official who answered the summons to "tell the Queen I want her."
This lady, at the time when her husband was Duke of Clarence and Lord
High Admiral, had been accustomed, on her visits to Chatham, to be
received and entertained by the daughters of the then Commissioner,
Cunningham. As soon as the Duchess became Queen, among her first
invited visitors to Bushey were these ladies. At the meeting, they
offered to kiss Her Majesty's hand, but "No, no," said Queen Adelaide,
"that is not the way I receive my friends. I am not changed;" and
therewith ensued a greeting less dignified, but not less sincere.
There are other stories told of incidents at Windsor, which indicate
the difference of the court going out from that of the court coming in.
This change required the removal from the palace of a little household,
the head lady of which reluctantly gave way to the new Queen. These
incidents, however, belong rather to the _Chronique Scandaleuse_ than
to mine. I will only add, therefore, that people generally rejoiced in
seeing a "wife" installed where "queans" used to rule it; and that,
when William IV. was seen walking arm-in-arm with Watson Taylor, or
some other happy courtier, they added one incident to the other, and
comparing the new court with the old, exclaimed, "Here is a change,
indeed!" No one ever dreamed at that moment that the time would come
when party-spirit would stir up the "_mobile_" against the sovereigns;
that the Queen would be accused of plotting with the Duke of Wellington
against Reform; that stones would be cast at the royal carriage as it
bore the King and his Consort from the theatre; and "that, when matters
went adversely to the humour of the ultra-chiefs of the popular
movement, the first lady in the land should be marked out for vengeance
by the famous cry, "The Queen has done it all!"
The drawing-room of which I have before spoken, at which good Mrs.
Blomfield appeared in "immortal velvet," was remarkable, however, for
another incident, which I will relate in the words of a writer in
"Frazer's Magazine," John Wilkes, ex-M.P. for Sudbury, who thus relates
it in his "Regina's Regina"--"The drawing-room of Her Majesty Queen
Adelaide, held in February 1831, was the most magnificent which had
been seen since that which had taken place on the presentation of the
Princess Charlotte of Wales, upon the occasion of her marriage. No
drawing-room excited such an interest, when compared with that, as the
one held by Queen Adelaide, at which the Princess Victoria was
presented on attaining her twelfth year. It was on this occasion that
the Duchess of Kent and her illustrious daughter arrived in state,
attended by the Duchess of Northumberland, Lady Charlotte St. Maur,
Lady Catherine Parkinson, the Hon. Mrs. Cust, Lady Conroy, La Baronne
Letzen, Sir John Conroy, and General Wetheral. This was the first
public appearance of the Princess Victoria at court. Her dress was made
entirely of articles manufactured in the United Kingdom. Victoria wore
a frock of English blonde, simple, modest, and becoming. She was the
object of interest and admiration on the part of all assembled, as she
stood on the left of Her Majesty on the throne. The scene was one of
the most splendid ever remembered, and the future Queen of England
contemplated all that passed with much dignity, but with evident
interest."
Nearly three-quarters of a century had elapsed since a Queen-Consort
had been crowned in Great Britain. On the present occasion, such small
pomp as there was, was confined to the religious part of the ceremony.
The procession, to and from Westminster Hall, the banquet there, and
the dramatic episode of the entry of the champion, were all dispensed
with. There was an idea prevalent, that the cost would be too great,
and that the popular voice would be given to grumble;--as if money
spent in the country, and made to circulate rapidly through many hands,
would not have been a public benefit rather than a public injury. The
ministry, however, would only sanction the maimed rites which were
actually observed;--the privileged people were deprived of many a
coveted perquisite, which might have dipped deeply into the public
purse, and the heir of Marmion and the owner of Scrivelsby, kept his
horse and his defiance at home in the domain of the Dymokes. The
public, cheated of their show, called it a "half-crownation."
There was only one incident at this ceremony which is worth narrating.
The Queen-Consort's crown was a rich little toy, sparkling but small.
It would hardly fit a baby's head, and, accordingly, Queen Adelaide's
hair was turned up in a knot, in order that on this knot the little
crown might safely rest. The Archbishop of Canterbury, in place of
fitting the crown down upon this knot of hair, only lightly placed the
glittering toy on the top of it. Had the Queen moved, she would have
been discrowned in an instant, and all the foolish people whose
footsteps go wandering on the borders of another world, instead of
going honestly straightforward in this, would have had a fine
opportunity of discussing the value of omens. But, in a case of
adornment, the ladies had their wits about them, and were worth the
whole episcopal bench when the matter at issue was surmounting a head
of hair with its supreme adornment of a crown. Some of those in
attendance stepped forward, saved their embarrassed mistress from an
annoyance; and Queen Adelaide was crowned in Westminster Abbey, by a
couple of ladies-in-waiting!
It may be that the Archbishop was not so much to blame on this
occasion. The little crown was made up at her own expense for the
occasion, by Rundell, out of her own jewels, and it may not have fitted
easily. She had a dread of unnecessary outlay, and, perhaps, remembered
that at George the Fourth's coronation, the sum charged by Rundell
merely for the hire of jewels by the King, amounted to L16,000, as
interest on their value. The whole expense of the double coronation of
William and Adelaide, did not amount to much more than twice that sum.
The Queen herself was not ill-dressed on this occasion, as will be seen
by the record made by those who have registered the millinery portion
of the ceremony:--"Her Majesty wore a gold gauze over a white satin
petticoat, with a diamond stomacher, and a purple velvet train, lined
with white satin, and a rich border of gold and ermine. The coronet
worn by Her Majesty, both to and from the Abbey, was most beautiful. It
was composed entirely of diamonds and pearls, and in shape very similar
to a mural crown."
It may not be irrelevant to state, that when the modest coronation of
William and Adelaide was yet a subject of general conversation, the
expensive finery of that which preceded it was actually in the market,
and was subsequently sold by public auction. Out of the hundred and
twenty lots "submitted" by Mr. Phillips, the new King and Queen might
have been tempted to secure a souvenir of their predecessor; but they
had no taste for "bargains;" perhaps, small regard for their defunct
kinsman. Nevertheless, so thrifty a lady as the Queen may have sighed
at the thought of the coronation ruff of Mecklin lace going "dirt
cheap" at two pounds; and she may have regretted the crimson velvet
coronation mantle, with its star and gold embroidery, which originally
costing five hundred pounds, fetched, when yet as good as new, only a
poor seven-and-forty guineas. There was the same depreciation in other
articles of originally costly value. The second coronation mantle of
purple velvet, fell from three hundred to fifty-five pounds; and the
green velvet mantle, lined with ermine, which had cost the Czar, who
presented it to the late King, a thousand guineas, was "knocked down"
at a trifle over a hundred pounds. Sashes, highland-dresses,
aigrette-plumes,--rich gifts received, or purchases dearly acquired,
went for nothing; and, after all, seeing into what base hands
coronation bravery is apt to fall, the economical King and Queen were
not without justification in setting an example of prudence, which was
followed at the next great crowning.
Perhaps not the least remarkable incident in connection with this
coronation, was the absence of the heiress-presumptive to the crown,
the Princess Victoria. No place had been assigned to her, nor any
preparation made in expectation of her gracing or witnessing the
ceremony. It has been said by some persons that Earl Grey, the prime
minister, obstinately opposed all idea of inviting the Princess to be
present. But the grounds for such opposition are so unapparent, that it
is difficult to give credit to them at all. By others, it has been
asserted that the Duchess of Northumberland, the governess of the
Princess, in the exercise of a superior and enlightened judgment, and
in consideration of the then alleged delicate health of her young
charge, advised that her pupil should not be present at the coronation
of King William and Queen Adelaide. This reason seems hardly to account
for the fact. In the absence of a better, it was accepted by those at
least who did not throw the blame of that "conspicuous absence" on
Queen Adelaide herself and her royal consort; but, as an anonymous
writer remarked,--"Who that knew the good King William and his
incomparable Queen, would believe that any slight was put by them on
their well-beloved niece and the heiress-presumptive to the throne?"
The same enemies also stated that "the Duchess of Northumberland was
seeking to give a political bias to the education of the Princess; and
some uneasiness was therefore created at the palace." The "Times"
asserted, with iteration, that the Duchess of Kent had "refused to
attend, yes, refused to attend," and reproved Her Royal Highness, in
the harsh terms which illustrated many of the controversies of the day,
for the impertinence of the widow of a mediatized German Prince, in
withholding her daughter from a ceremony at which she could never, at
one time, have expected to see daughter of hers, as heiress-presumptive
to the crown of England! Other papers made this alleged refusal rest on
the course taken by Lord A. Fitzclarence, who, in marshalling the
coronation procession, on paper, had assigned a place to the Princess
Victoria, after the other members of the royal family, instead of next
to the King and Queen. Finally, the "Globe," on authority, declared
that the Duchess having pleaded the delicate state of her daughter's
health, had obtained the king's sanction to her absence,--a version of
the end of a story which began, nevertheless, more like the current
report of it than would seem here to be indicated. As marked an
instance of absence as that of the Princess, was that of the whole of
such members of the preceding administration, as happened to be members
of the House of Commons. This, however, little affected the King, who,
at the subsequent dinner at St. James's Palace, gave, as a toast, the
"Land we live in," and declared that, except as a formality and
memorial, the coronation was an useless affair, as far as he was
concerned, for no oath he had there taken could bind him more
stringently to fulfil his duty towards the people than he felt himself
to be bound as soon as the responsibility of his position had fallen
upon him.
The land he lived in now speedily became agitated by that wave of
revolution which was shaking many of the monarchies of Europe. England
endured as great revolution as any of them, but with this difference,
that here it was effected according to law, and albeit not exempt from
very vast perils, was carried through to its natural consequences, to
the mutual advantage of the government and the governed.
When the first rumours began to spread of an opposition establishing
itself at court against the progress of reform, the press manifested
particular desire to exonerate the Queen from the charge of
participating in, or heading such a course. The "Times" especially
interfered to protect that lady from similar aspersions. Papers of less
influence, but of like principles, had openly named Queen Adelaide, the
two daughters of George III., Elizabeth, (Princess of Hesse Homburg,)
and Mary, (Duchess of Gloucester,) as mischievously active in impeding
the popular will. In answer to such accusations, the "Times" (April 9,
1831) in a brief, but spirited and courteous leader, denounced the
falsehood, and showed the improbability and the unfairness of such
allegations. On a like occasion, that paper fairly urged that whatever
opinions might be expressed by members of the household, they were not
to be attributed to the mistress of that household. At the same time,
on these members and on the fair frequenters of drawing-rooms who there
gave utterance to sentiments which they carried into action elsewhere,
against the great consummation sought by the people, the pro-reform
paper thundered its bolts and showered its sarcasm with unsparing
hands. On most occasions, however, so much was made of the apparent
heartiness of the King, that excess of praise in that direction, took
the form of censure on the lukewarmness if not the hostility of the
Queen. Contrasts rather than parallels were the favourite medium for
turning the public attention to the two sovereigns. The Ex-Chancellor
Eldon was said to have assured Queen Adelaide, that if reform was
carried, the days of her drawing-rooms were numbered, and that royalty
would do well to follow a counsel which was given by Earl Grey to the
bishops,--namely, set its house in order. On the other hand, we hear of
the new Chancellor Brougham attending the court with his huge official
purse so full of petitions in favour of parliamentary reform, that as
he continued to extract and present them, he apologized to King William
for troubling him with such piles of the public prayers or demands.
Whereupon the King is said to have remarked, in the hearing of the
Queen, "My Lord Chancellor, I am willing to receive anything from that
purse, except the seals!" The wit was small, but the suggestiveness was
considered important, and gossips, on both sides, jumped to conclusions
which had questionable affinity with the premises.
While the Queen was thus treated with a certain degree of moderation by
the press, she is said to have been seriously coerced by the liberal
ministry of the day. The charge was distinctly made, after the Queen's
death, in a funeral sermon, preached by the Rev. Mr. Browne, Vicar of
Atwick. The occasion was so solemn, that an honest man was not likely
to be led even into exaggeration, much less into deliberate
misrepresentation. I will therefore quote the preacher's own words:--
"The Queen-Consort had witnessed in her father-land, some of the
dreadful effects of the French revolutionary movements; and she was
known to disapprove, out of womanly feeling and fear for her husband's
safety, of popular tumults and agitations. With the narrow-minded and
impure, suspicion is proof, and is followed by resentment. This pure
being was a sufferer by the machinations and exactions of the ephemeral
favourites of the misguided populace. Her influence over her royal
husband was too great to be trusted, and she was forbidden,--I speak
advisedly, and mean nothing less than '_forbidden_'--to have a kindred
spirit near her during the agitation and intimidation, by which the
measure called the Reform Bill, was supported and carried."
It was when that bill was in jeopardy, when the King,--who had made so
many knights that the very pages called them the "Arabians," the
"Thousand and One,"--hesitated to create a sufficient number of new
lords to secure the passing of the bill in the Upper House; it was then
that the press began to admonish the King and to menace the Queen. On
one occasion, when they attended at the opening of the new Staines
Bridge, where, by the way, they were so closely pressed upon by the
mob, that maids of honour and gentlemen in waiting had their pockets
picked, the Conservative wits remarked, that the King might make new
bridges, but that he must leave the peers alone. The Whig party at once
assumed that Queen Adelaide was at the head of a faction, whose object
was to give reality to such jokes, and thenceforward the Queen was
little spared. The "Times" asserted that it was by "domestic
importunity" alone that the free action of the King's mind was impeded.
The Queen was compared to Queen Amata, in the "AEneid," cajoling or
raging at her older consort, Latinus, because the latter preferred
AEneas to Turnus, as a husband for their daughter, Lavinia. There was
not much alike in the two cases, for Amata was a staunch Conservative,
who detested the idea of a foreign prince obtaining the hand of her
daughter, and exercising influence within the limits of Latium. But
there were strong terms in the original which suited the purpose of the
hour, and the Queen was pelted with them most unmercifully.
Occasionally, there was a truth mixed up with the harder words, which
even ultra-Tories could not gainsay, as when the "Times" remarked, that
"a foreigner was no very competent judge of English liberties, and
politics are not the proper field for female enterprize or exertion."
When this strong hint was taken to have failed, and Queen Adelaide was
still supposed to be conspiring with the daughters of George III. to
turn King William from his liberal views, this was the tone with which
the royal lady was lectured by the press:--"There is a lady of high
rank, who must be taught a salutary, though a very painful, lesson. She
may be bold as an amazon, be troublesome, importunate, or overbearing,
but her present course is one from which can follow nought but final
wretchedness. Why has she so eagerly, within these few hours, bidden
her gossips not to despair? Why such haste to tell them, all will be
well! The King will do without the Whigs! Yes, madam, but England will
not. Still less will England do without the unmutilated Bill."
At another time, Queen Adelaide was reminded that if a female influence
drove Necker from the court of Louis XVI., one of the consequences was
the destruction of the most influential lady; another, the ruin of the
country. The influence being assumed to be still active, allusion was
made to the "foreign woman whom the nation may have too easily
adopted." Reports were rife that intrigues were on foot, the object of
which was to induce liberal peers to betray their party, and then the
public censor showered imprecations on "blandishments and intreaties,
urged with a force and pertinacity which, coming from a monarch, are
difficult to be refused."