(A.D. 1818-1849.)
|There is so little to relate about this queen, that were it not for the
fact that her reign develops many matters of importance and interest to
the whole civilized world, we should feel tempted to pass her by with a
brief notice. But this would be unsatisfactory in an historical point
of view. Queen Adelaide will, therefore, receive her share of mention
whenever she takes prominence as we proceed.
It was on April 13, 1818, that the regent, afterwards George IV.,
announced to parliament through Lord Liverpool that he had given his
consent to the marriage of his brother, the Duke of Clarence, with
Adelaide Louisa Theresa Caroline Amelia, Princess of Saxe-Coburg
Meiningen. Two other brothers of the regent were married the same year;
but of these, more hereafter.
When quite a youth Prince William Henry had entered the navy as
midshipman under Captain Digby, and for many years his life was one of
neglect, poverty, and obscurity. Nobody ever thought it necessary to
honor him until he reached his fortieth year, when Mr. Canning, the
premier, brought him into notice by giving him the appointment of lord
high-admiral. He reigned when the Duke of Wellington succeeded Mr.
Canning, and sank into obscurity {284}again until, by the deaths of
the Princess Charlotte and his elder brother, the Duke of York, he was
made prominent by becoming heir to the throne.
[[A.D. 1830.]] The princess he had married was remarkable for nothing
so much as her amiability. For many years she lived with her husband
at Bushey Park, a pleasant domestic life, free from the intrigues and
excitements of court or political affairs. She was by no means delighted
when the death of George IV. elevated her to the throne; for she loved
her retired home in the country, and it was a long time before she took
upon herself the dignity of her new position.
It was the same with her husband, "the bluff sailor-king" William IV.,
who declared "that he had slept in a cot, and did not desire luxury and
magnificence." By his simplicity and good nature he had made himself
exceedingly popular with the lower and middle classes, and there never
was anything like the enthusiasm with which he was greeted by all
parties. He could not readily throw off the habits and manners of a
country gentleman, even when a crowd gathered to stare at him at every
turn he made, for he had been too long accustomed to trot about without
exciting the least observation.
He began his reign by providing for old friends,--pensioning some and
placing others in lucrative offices. He threw himself into the arms
of the Duke of Wellington, whom he placed at the head of the
administration, because he was to be depended upon for advice and
support. William, as well as other members of the royal family, had
always been friendly to Mrs. Fitzherbert, and he showed the kindness of
his heart by responding to an application made in her behalf soon after
his brother's death. He invited her to Windsor, desired her to put her
servants into mourning,--though he did not show that respect to the
{285}dead king in his own household,--and settled an income of six
thousand pounds a year on her.
King William was glad of every opportunity to show himself to his
subjects, particularly in such public spectacles as he knew would give
them pleasure. Indeed, he went about this task in such a business-like
manner as to astonish everybody. A month after his accession he
inspected the Coldstream Guards in St. James's Park, which was
surrounded by a large assemblage of spectators. He was dressed (for the
first time in his life) in a military uniform, with a large pair of
gold spurs, half-way up his legs, like a game-cock. These were entirely
useless, because a stiffness in the joints of his hands prevented his
holding the reins, therefore he could not ride.
The queen appeared at this review, and afterwards held a drawing-room,
when the ministers wives were presented to her, also various officers of
state; but she did not enjoy that sort of thing at all, and is said to
have behaved like a well-bred actress rehearsing a part, while anxiously
awaiting the dropping of the curtain. Luncheon was served at one
o'clock, and then the king and queen, seated together on one throne,
received the addresses of the Oxford and Cambridge representatives. Then
the queen retired, and a council was held, and the king had a civil word
to say to everybody, inviting some to dine with him, promising to visit
others, and reminding several of former intercourse in a most affable
but rather undignified manner. When all this was over, his majesty put
on his plain clothes, and took a stroll about the streets arm-in-arm
with a gentleman, and followed by a mob that so shoved him about that on
his return to the palace he was glad to take a quiet walk in the garden,
saying, good-humoredly, to his companion: "Oh, never mind all this; when
I have walked about a few times they will get used to it, and will take
no notice." {286}For the next three days regiments were inspected in
the various parks, the king's affability being the theme on everybody's
lips, and then he held a grand levee, which was crowded to excess. He
had gained favor with the army, the navy claimed him as their chief,
so it would be difficult to tell with which of the services he was most
popular.
William IV. could not comprehend etiquette, and appeared at the House of
Lords without his crown, because he found it less irksome when carried
in the hands of Lord Hastings than on his own head. He wanted to take
the King of Wurtemberg, who was visiting England, in his coach with him,
but that was beyond all precedent, and could not be allowed; however,
nobody could prevent his sitting backwards in his private carriage, or
making any man who accompanied him sit by his side instead of opposite.
After the session at the House of Lords, William drove all over town
in an open barouche with the queen, Princess Augusta, and the King of
Wurtemberg; but that was not the worst of it: he actually stopped at
a hotel to set down his guest, and that was a sample of simplicity and
good-nature never before witnessed in a sovereign of England. He had
immense dinners every day at the palace, often inviting the same people
three or four times hand-running. At eleven o'clock he dismissed his
guests thus: "Now, ladies and gentlemen, I wish you a good-night. I will
not detain you any longer from your amusements, and shall go myself to
bed; so come along, my queen."
One of the reviews made by his majesty was succeeded by a breakfast at
Apsley House, the home of the Duke of Wellington, about fifty members of
the council and foreign ministers being present, and that same evening
he sat at a state dinner between the King of Wurtemberg and the
{287}
[Illustration: 0293]
{289}duke. When his health was drunk, he returned thanks briefly,
saying that he should give a toast by-and-by. So after a while he sent
a message to his band to play the merriest waltz they could, and as soon
as he was obeyed, he gave "The Queen of Wurtemberg," and praised her
tremendously. He next ordered them to play "See the Conquering Hero
Comes;" then he rose and said he had been so short a time on the throne
that he did not know whether etiquette required him to speak sitting or
standing; but he wished to propose the health of the Duke of Wellington,
whom he compared with the Duke of Marlborough, and, after making a long
speech, concluded by declaring that he gave him his fullest confidence,
and should continue to do so as long as he remained upon the throne.
While King William was keeping himself busy with dinners, drives,
reviews, breakfasts, etc., Paris was in a state of siege, and no end of
reports--some true, some false--were constantly arriving in England,
where the result was watched with the greatest anxiety. Three days
brought the French Revolution to a climax, and established the Duke
of Orleans--Louis Philippe--on the throne. But it did not tranquillize
Europe; for there was every prospect of a general war, and much alarm
was felt in England in consequence. The First Napoleon said that a
revolution in France was a revolution of Europe; and so it proved, for
there was fighting in all the principal towns before peace was really
established.
Before William had been on the throne a year there was trouble in
Ireland, and in some counties it became necessary for the military force
to put down the outrages committed by mobs. The Irish people believed
that their rights had been assailed by the government, and Daniel
O'Connell made speeches to the ignorant portion of the inhabitants,
which served, as he intended they should, to {290}increase their
discontent. Then there was an outbreak among the English peasantry
against the use of agricultural machinery. They met in crowds and went
about destroying all the barns, corn, and hay-ricks, and setting fire
right and left to the threshing-machines, like a set of maniacs. Of
course such lawless behavior filled the country with consternation,
because it was impossible to tell where it would end.
When parliament met, the king made a speech which proved to be one of
the most offensive that ever proceeded from an English sovereign. It
was known to be the work of his ministry, but did not increase his
popularity on that account. The Duke of Wellington followed it up by
a declaration against reform in parliament, which certainly sealed his
fate, for it was condemned by friend and foe. It proved that, though a
great general, the duke was by no means capable of filling the position
of prime minister.
Excitement ran so high in London that the Lord Mayor's dinner, which had
been fixed for the ninth of November, had to be postponed, for there
was great fear of a repetition of Guy Fawkes's day. Troops paraded the
streets, prudent citizens renewed their bolts and bars, lined their
shutters with iron plates, and laid in a supply of arms, while little
knots of people gathered at the street-corners, waiting for something,
though they did not know exactly what. Before the end of the week
everybody was laughing at the panic they had experienced; but the effect
of it was seriously felt, for certain disorderly citizens organized
meaningless riots, merely because they could think of no other way of
amusing themselves just then. Besides, the impression got abroad that
the King of England dared not pass through the streets of his own
capital to dine with the Lord Mayor, and that the banquet had,
therefore, to be postponed. {291}The reform bill was a most important
matter; and, when we consider the nature of it, we shall see why it
created so much excitement among the common people of Great Britain.
This measure was introduced into parliament with the intention of
regulating the number of representatives from the various counties,
according to their size and standing. It had another aim. Hitherto
the affairs of government had been exclusively in the hands of the
aristocracy; but the reform bill was introduced for the purpose of
admitting the middle classes to a voice in public concerns. It is
easy to see, therefore, why the workingmen were aroused; but those who
witnessed the tame, wordy meetings of the workingmen not long since
on the San Francisco sand-lots can form no idea of the riots which
succeeded such demonstrations in England fifty years ago.
The panic had another effect, which was the removal of the Duke of
Wellington from office, at the same time that Sir Robert Peel offered
his resignation in the House of Commons. This meant a complete change in
the ministry. Throughout the troubled and unsettled state of affairs the
king behaved admirably, and proved that, although he had ignored court
etiquette at the opening of his reign, he had much more real dignity
than his predecessor, whose mind was ever bent on theatrical effect,
and who never yielded one jot where a display of ceremony could be made.
William treated his ministers with great kindness and consideration,
supporting them while it was possible, and parting with them in sorrow
when it became a necessity.
Lord Grey was requested not only to form a new ministry, but even to
make the necessary changes in the royal household. No wiser selection
could have been made; for Lord Grey was popular, and people saw in the
parliamentary reform a noble beginning of a great work. Brougham, now
Lord Brougham, who so warmly defended Queen {292}Caroline of Brunswick,
was appointed Lord High Chancellor, and this also gave general
satisfaction. Lord John Russell, whose name appears often in the cabinet
during the present century, was appointed paymaster-general.
The year closed with a report that Asiatic cholera was spreading over
Europe, and making rapid strides towards England. Great anxiety was
felt; but honest-hearted, unselfish King William took prompt measures
towards the establishment of a proper quarantine, and so held the plague
at bay.
[[A.D. 1831.]] All through the January nights of the new year the
heavens were lit up by burning barns and ricks; and in the manufacturing
districts men formed into organizations called trades-unions, because
representatives of certain trades bound themselves to stand by one
another in the maintenance of what they believed to be their rights. But
they were merciless to those who dared to act independently, and murder
was committed at Manchester out of revenge in consequence of a quarrel
about the trades-union.
While discussions on the reform bill were engaging the attention of
parliament, trades-unions were growing, and the arrest of O'Connell was
agitating the Irish, the queen lived quietly, and took no part in public
affairs. She was called a prude because she would not allow her ladies
to wear low-neck dresses, while during the previous reign no others had
been permitted.
One night in February the king and queen went to the theatre. They were
well received on entering; but on returning home they were hooted at,
and their carriage was pelted with stones, one of which broke the window
and fell in the lap of Prince George of Cumberland. The king told one
of his officers "that the queen was terrified, and it was very
disagreeable, because they should always be going about somewhere."
{293}The queen had no influence whatever with her husband in public
affairs; but she was interested in the elections, knew the king's weak
points, and felt unhappy at his being so completely under the influence
of his ministry. At her balls and drawing-rooms, scarcely anything was
talked of but the doings of parliament, and the elections continued
to cause great excitement. When the Lord Mayor unwisely had the city
illuminated after certain of them had been decided, there was a great
uproar and a general breaking of windows. A few nights later the queen
attended a concert, and as she was returning the mob surrounded her
carriage, and her footmen were obliged to beat the people off with their
canes to keep them from poking their heads into the coach. Her majesty
was dreadfully alarmed, and the king, who was not well enough to
accompany her to the concert, had heard something of the tumult, and was
anxiously pacing backwards and forwards in his room when Lord Howe,
the chamberlain, who always preceded the queen, entered. "How is her
majesty?" eagerly demanded William as he went down to meet her. "Very
much frightened, sir," was the reply of the chamberlain; who, being
an anti-Reformer, at once proceeded to give a most graphic and rather
exaggerated account of the attack. The king was so angry that he
declared neither he nor the queen should again enter the city, and the
latter felt as distressed and disgusted as possible.
In June the royal family attended the Ascot races. They arrived at the
course with a _cortège_ of eight coaches, each drawn by four horses,
phaetons, pony chaises, and led horses. Their reception was strikingly
cold and indifferent, and the king looked bored to death. After the
races there was a dinner at the castle each day, when the king invited
a crowd of people. The queen was led to the dining-room by the Duke of
Richmond, and the king followed {294}with the Duchess of Saxe-Weimar,
the queen's sister. He drank wine with everybody, and after dinner
dropped asleep from the effect of it. That did not interfere with the
concert by a very good band, that was going on all through dinner, and
continued for a couple of hours afterwards.
At this period a deputation waited upon Prince Leopold, the widower of
Princess Charlotte, mentioned in the last reign, to invite him to become
their king. As he had been expecting this for a long time, he did not
hesitate to accept.
The next event of interest was the coronation. A council was held at St.
James's to consider it, when the king made a request that the ceremonies
might be short, and that all those not connected with the church might
be dispensed with. His object was to make it less tedious and less
expensive than the last, which had occupied the whole day, and cost two
hundred and forty thousand pounds.
Greville, who occupied a position in the council, gives an account
of the queen's decision with regard to her crown. He says: "I rode to
Windsor to settle with the queen what sort of a crown she would have. I
was ushered into the king's presence; he was sitting at a red table in
the sitting-room of George IV. looking over the flower-garden. He sent
for the queen, who came with two ladies. She tried to be civil to me
in her ungracious way, and said she would have none of our crowns, and
asked me if I thought it was right that she should. I said, 'Madam, I
can only say that the late king wore one at his coronation.' However,
she said, 'I do not like it, and I have got jewels enough, so I will
have them made up myself.' The king said to me, 'Very well; then _you_
will have to pay for the setting?' 'Oh, no,' replied the queen, 'I shall
pay for it all myself.'" {295}When the estimates for the coronation were
presented, they amounted to less than thirty-one thousand pounds, which
was a moderate sum compared with similar preceding ceremonies. The
king objected very seriously to being kissed on the cheek, as an act
of homage, by the bishops, and ordered that part of the ceremony to be
struck out; but it had been the custom for ages, and he had to give in,
whether he liked it or no.
The coronation was announced for September 8, and very extensive
alterations were made in Westminster Abbey for the occasion. About forty
private gentlemen acted as pages of the Earl-Marshal, attired in blue
frock-coats, white breeches and stockings, crimson silk sashes, and
small oddly-shaped hats, with black ostrich feathers. Each carried a
gilt staff, bearing the arms of the Earl-Marshal, and it was his duty to
conduct people provided with tickets to their proper seats.
Shortly after five o'clock in the morning a royal salute was fired by
the artillery stationed in the Green Park, and that was a signal for
every one interested in the proceedings of the day to be on the move.
At six the troops distributed themselves along the line of procession in
St. James's Park. The members of the House of Commons, some in military,
others in Highland costumes, had a covered platform all to themselves in
Westminster Hall.
The queen's ivory rod, surmounted by a dove, was borne by Earl Camden,
the sceptre and cross by the Earl of Jersey, and the crown by the Duke
of Beaufort. Her majesty followed between the Bishops of Winchester and
Chichester, and attended by five gentlemen pensioners on each side. Her
train was borne by the Duchess of Gordon and six daughters of earls. The
ladies and women of the bed-chamber and the maids-of-honor followed.
Of the king's regalia, St. Edward's staff was borne by {296}the Duke of
Grafton, the golden spurs by the Marquis of Hastings, the sceptre
with the cross by the Duke of St. Albans, the sword by the Marquis of
Salisbury, the second sword by the Marquis of Downshire, the third
by the Marquis of Cleveland, their coronets carried by a page. Then
followed the Gentleman Usher of the Black Rod, and Garter King-at-Arms,
and the Deputy Lord Great Chamberlain of England; the Royal Dukes with
their train and coronet bearers; the High Constables of Ireland and
Scotland, the Duke of Norfolk, the Duke of Wellington, with his staff
and baton of field-marshal; Earl Grey with the sword-of-state, the Duke
of Richmond with the sceptre and dove, the Duke of Hamilton with St.
Edward's crown, the Duke of Somerset with the orb.
After them the Bishops of Rochester and Exeter with the Bible, the
Bishop of Oxford with the chalice, followed by the king, supported by
the Bishop of Bath and Wells and the Archbishop of York, his train borne
by the Marquises of Worcester, Lichfield and Douro, and the Earls of
Kerry and Euston, assisted by the Master of the Robes and his grooms. On
each side of his majesty walked ten gentlemen pensioners in the
uniform of officers of the Guard, headed by their lieutenant and
standard-bearer; then came the Groom of the Stole, the Gold Stick, and
the Master of the Horse, the Captains of the Yeomen of the Guard, and a
few other subordinates of the royal household.
His majesty took his seat, the Bible and chalice were placed on the
altar, where two officers of the wardrobe spread a rich cloth of gold,
and laid two handsome cushions on the steps, while the Archbishop of
Canterbury put on his cope, and the bishops, who had read the Litany,
their vestments. The king and queen then, with their supporters and the
bearers of the regalia, advanced to the altar, where the king offered
a pall and an ingot of gold, and the {297}queen a pall of gold. Their
majesties knelt while the prayer was said by the archbishop, and then
were conducted to their chairs-of-state, when the Litany and communion
service were read, and a sermon preached by the Bishop of London.
After the sermon, the archbishop administered the coronation oath, which
was followed by the ceremony of anointing, and this concluded with a
benediction. The spurs and sword were then laid upon the altar, and the
latter returned to the king by the prelates, when his majesty offered
it at the altar, whence it was redeemed by Earl Grey, who carried it
without a scabbard until the end of the ceremony.
Then the mantle was placed around his majesty; he received the orb,
the ring, and the sceptre, the crown was placed upon his head, and the
spectators shouted, "God save the king!" while the trumpets sounded,
drums were beaten, and the park guns sent forth a loud peal.
The prayers and anthems having been completed, the peers put on their
coronets, and the Bible was presented to the king, who took his place
upon the throne. Then followed the usual acts of homage, and the
treasurer of the household scattered coronation medals. The anointing,
crowning, and enthroning of the queen then took place.
After partaking of the sacrament, their majesties were disrobed, and
proceeded, as they had entered, to the west door of the abbey. The
regalia was received by the officers of the Jewel Office, and their
majesties returned to St. James's Palace in the same state as they had
approached the abbey. It was three o'clock in the afternoon before the
ceremony ended.
There was no grand state banquet, but the king entertained a large
party of the royal family and nobility, with the chief officers of the
household instead. In consequence {298}of the ill-health of Princess
Victoria, heiress-presumptive, neither she nor her mother, the Duchess
of Kent, took part in the ceremonies.
Coronation day was distinguished as a general holiday, and in the
evening the city was illuminated. It was selected for the laying of the
corner-stones of two churches,--one at Hastings by the Princess Sophia
Matilda of Gloucester, and one at East Cowes by the Princess Victoria.
Everybody felt satisfied, the coronation had been a success, and a
number of peers had been created.
The reform bill was not yet settled in parliament, and the debates upon
it brought into prominence many men whose names are familiar to us at
the present day. Macaulay was one of these, and his speeches were very
brilliant. Robert Peel, whom we have already mentioned, was another. At
last the real fight took place in the House of Lords, where there was a
magnificent display of talent on both sides, which resulted at the first
reading in the defeat of the reform bill. We need not give the details
of this matter. While it was pending little else was thought of, and no
sooner was it decided than the appearance of cholera, that dread
disease that had been slowly but surely approaching, filled the public
attention.
It broke out with violence at Sunderland among the filthy and degraded;
but it did not become so dreadful a plague as many that had visited
England in previous times. It proved a benefit in this, that it awakened
people to the necessity for cleanliness in the thoroughfares, and
prompted the benevolent to help those who were attacked with the disease
on account of their privations and unhealthy habitations in wretched,
damp country villages. A board of health was established, and England
was from that period awakened to the duty of care for the public health,
which, we have seen, was a matter of slight consideration in earlier
days.
[[A.D. 1832.]] {299}Riots continued while the reform bill remained
unsettled; for this was the only argument that those ignorant, lawless
people who took part in them could bring to bear against those who
opposed them. The consequences of these proceedings were dreadful. In
Derby the town jail and many houses of the respectable inhabitants were
destroyed, and in Nottingham the ancient castle belonging to the Duke of
Newcastle was completely demolished.
The rioters even marched upon St. James's Palace under pretence of
presenting addresses, and several mansions in the neighborhood were
stoned. Fortunately they first attacked the Duke of Wellington's house,
which gave the troops ample time to assemble for the protection of the
palace.
A riot in Bristol lasted three days, during which all the public
buildings were set on fire, and the toll-gate was pulled down. The
prison-doors were burst open, and all the prisoners liberated; dwellings
and warehouses were completely demolished, and the property destroyed in
that one town alone was valued at half a million of pounds. At last the
military attacked the rioters, and, after several were shot down, order
was restored; but many had perished in the flames they themselves had
kindled, after having drunk to excess of the liquor they had stolen.
Public meetings were held in every part of the kingdom to express
dissatisfaction,--particularly in the large manufacturing towns, some of
which were frequently set on fire.
In November a meeting of the political union of the working-classes
was announced, their object being to demand universal suffrage, vote by
ballot, and yearly parliaments; but government took the matter in
hand, and the leaders of such illegal proceedings were frightened
into abandoning them for the time being. These scenes of excitement
{300}produced their effect, even across the channel in France, where
demonstrations were made by men who attacked some of the principal
places, and were only dispersed at last by the appearance of the
National Guard in their midst. Lord Eldon wrote at the time on this
subject: "The French are more volatile than we are; they have travelled
somewhat quicker on the road to ruin than we sluggish Englishmen travel;
but we are, I fear, on the same road."
We have said very little about the Princess Victoria, because she lived
in retirement, pursuing her studies under the excellent supervision of
her mother, the Duchess of Kent; but in the autumn of this year the two
royal ladies made an interesting tour through the principal counties of
Eng land and Wales, and were everywhere received with demonstrations
of welcome and respect. They returned to Kensington Palace in November,
highly gratified with their tour.
During this year occurred some events to which we must allude, because
they are too important to be passed over in silence. One is the marriage
of Leopold, King of the Belgians, with the Princess Louise, daughter of
King Louis Philippe of France. This event was preceded by the death of
the only son of Napoleon I., known as the Duke of Reichstadt.
He died of consumption at the palace of Schoenbrunn, near Vienna, at the
early age of twenty-one. A funeral service at the church of St. Mary was
the only mark of respect shown to the memory of this young man in Paris,
because the Bonaparte family were not then in power.
Sir Walter Scott died on the twenty-first of September, at Abbotsford,
at the age of sixty-one. Few men of genius ever had so brilliant a
career, or acquired during their lifetime so widespread a reputation.
He was a lawyer, an historian, a novelist, a poet, than whom none have
maintained a longer or firmer hold on the popular favor; but, what is
{301}better, he died a great and good man. Carlyle says of him: "No
sounder piece of British manhood was put together in the eighteenth
century of time. Alas! his fine Scotch face, with its shaggy honesty,
sagacity, and goodness, when we saw it latterly on the Edinburgh streets
was all worn with care, the joy all fled from it,--ploughed deep with
labor and sorrow. We shall never forget it; we shall never see it
again. Adieu, Sir Walter, pride of all Scotland; take our proud and last
farewell!"
[[A.D. 1833.]] At the beginning of the new year Queen Adelaide was
anxious that Lord Howe, who had resigned the chamberlainship, should
resume it. She was very fond of him, and received his respect and
attentions in return for the favor she showed him. He had been opposed
to the government, and, as his return to office was to be made only
on condition that he would change his principles, he refused. He was
replaced by William Basil Percy, Earl of Denbigh, who remained in her
majesty's service to the close of her life.
There was a change in the government this year: Lord Brougham had become
chancellor, and the reformed parliament, as it was called, emancipated
the slaves in the British colonies. This was a most important event, and
interested the whole civilized world.
Among the distinguished Frenchmen who visited England at this period
was Monsieur Thiers, who was entertained by Talleyrand, the French
ambassador to London, at a grand dinner.
At important assemblages the young Princess Victoria now began to be
brought forward. She attended the ceremonial of the opening of a new
pier at Southampton, which was managed with great pomp, all the city
officials being present. About twenty-five thousand spectators were
present, and the Duchess of Kent announced that she {302}desired her
daughter to become impressed with the value of everything that could
be of practical benefit to all classes of the community. Their royal
highnesses were escorted by a military staff, and were treated to a
splendid collation, served for them in a beautifully decorated tent that
had been erected for the occasion.
An address was then presented by the corporation to the royal visitors,
acknowledging the distinction they had conferred on the town, and
requesting the duchess to name the pier. Her royal highness named
it "The Royal Pier," and added her wishes that it might promote the
prosperity of the town. This ceremony was followed by a regatta on the
water and a public dinner, after which there was a display of fireworks.
The young princess excited a great deal of interest, and the Southampton
people felt quite as proud of her as they did of their new pier.
Wherever she travelled with her mother, a salute was sure to greet them.
William IV. did not like this ever-increasing popularity of his
successor at all, and remonstrated, saying that such an honor was
only due to himself and the queen; but the Duchess of Kent insisted on
receiving all the honors that she considered her due, and would not
give orders that the salutes should be discontinued, as the king had
requested.
[[A D. 1834.]] The death of Lord Grenville, which occurred this year,
left the chancellorship of Oxford vacant, and the Duke of Wellington
was appointed to the office. He was installed with grand ceremonies, and
nothing could surpass the enthusiasm of the crowd that collected to do
him honor.
Several distinguished people died just at this period. One was Lord
Chancellor Bathurst, who had occupied public positions for many years,
and boasted of being the only civilian invited to the annual banquet
given by the Duke of Wellington on the anniversary of the battle of
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[Illustration: 0309]
{305}Waterloo. Another was Coleridge, the poet, whose beautiful
compositions are so familiar to us all.
In France, General de Lafayette closed his earthly career. We must honor
his memory for the part he took in our war of Independence, and the
assistance he rendered the American colonies in throwing off the English
yoke. After his return to his native land Lafayette lived quietly, until
the revolution of 1830 brought him into prominence again, and he became
chief of the Republican party. He was honored with a grand public
funeral.
[[A.D. 1835.]] Of the various changes that took place in the government
from year to year we have scarcely made mention, because they would not
be interesting to our readers. It is enough to know that they occurred,
and, as some of them were extremely distasteful to the king, he became
so ill-humored and low-spirited that it seemed almost impossible for him
to rally. Lord John Russell, secretary of the home department at this
time, was an object of special odium; but his majesty so thoroughly
hated all of his ministers this year that when he was told he ought to
give a dinner for the Ascot races, he said, "I cannot give any dinners
without inviting the ministers, and I would rather see the devil than
any one of them in my house."
The king's ill-feeling towards his ministers would have rendered their
position excessively disagreeable if they had considered themselves
really _his_ ministers; but they were working, they thought, for the
good of the country, and had so little regard for the intellect or
judgment of William that they treated him as a cipher. Indeed, his
outbursts of temper often led to the belief that he was losing what
little mind he had.
At one of his levees he made a disgraceful scene with Lord Torrington,
a gentleman of the bed-chamber. A card {306}was handed to Torrington
of somebody to be presented. He read the name, and added,
"Deputy-governor." "Deputy-governor?" asked the king, angrily,
"Deputy-governor of what?"
"I cannot tell, your majesty," replied the gentleman, "as it is not upon
the card."
"Hold your tongue, sir," roughly retorted the king; "you had better go
home and learn to read." This was so public an insult that Torrington
ought to have resented by instantly resigning, but he probably was a
daily witness to just such scenes; for the king could not bridle his
temper, and lost no opportunity of showing dislike of everybody who
surrounded him. He was so absurd as to admit only Tories to his private
society, and no member of the Whig cabinet was ever entertained at
Windsor.
[[A.D. 1836.]] The Duchess of Kent came in for her share of his
ill-humor at a birthday-dinner. She and Princess Victoria were invited
to go to Windsor on the twelfth of August, to celebrate the queen's
birthday, and to stay there until after that of the king, on the
twenty-first. She sent word that she wanted to keep her own birthday on
the fifteenth, at Claremont; took no notice of the queen whatever, in
her reply, but said she would go to Windsor on the twentieth. This put
the king in a perfect fury, but he made no reply. He was in town on the
day the duchess had named for her arrival, for the purpose of assembling
parliament, and having desired them not to wait dinner for him at
Windsor, marched off to Kensington Palace to spy into the state of
affairs there.
He flew into a rage on discovering that the duchess had appropriated
to her own use a suite of apartments, seventeen in number, which he had
refused during the previous year to let her have. This was a piece of
intrusion that his angry majesty would not bear meekly, so he hastened
to Windsor to give vent to his feelings. It was ten o'clock {307}at
night when he arrived, and, walking straight into the drawing-room,
where the whole court were assembled, he approached the Princess
Victoria, took hold of both her hands, and in a loud tone of voice
expressed his pleasure at seeing her there, and his regret at not being
oftener gratified in that respect. Then, turning towards the duchess,
and making a stately bow, he continued, in a still louder tone: "A most
unwarrantable liberty has been taken in one of my palaces; I have just
come from Kensington, where I found apartments taken possession of,
not only without my consent, but contrary to my commands; this I cannot
understand, nor will I endure conduct so disrespectful."
An embarrassed silence followed this coarse attack, which proved
only the prelude to a storm that was to break next day. It was the
twenty-first of August, the king's birthday, and a hundred people of
the court and neighborhood were assembled at dinner in the palace. The
Duchess of Kent sat on one side of the king, one of his sisters on the
other, and the Princess Victoria opposite. Near the conclusion of the
meal, at the queen's desire, the health of his majesty was proposed. All
the guests drank it standing, according to custom, and then followed
a long speech by the king, during which he poured forth the following
terrible tirade: "I trust in God my life may be spared for nine months
longer, after which period, in the event of my death, no regency would
take place. I should then have the satisfaction of leaving the royal
authority to the personal exercise of that young lady (pointing to the
princess), the heiress-presumptive to the crown, and not in the hands
of a person now near me, who is surrounded by evil advisers, and who is
herself incompetent to act with propriety in the station in which she
would be placed. I have no hesitation in saying that {308}I have been
insulted, grossly and continually insulted, by that person, but I am
determined to endure no longer a course of behavior so disrespectful to
me. Amongst many other things, I have particularly to complain of the
manner in which that young lady (again pointing to the princess) has
been kept away from my court; she has been repeatedly kept from my
drawing-rooms, at which she ought always to have been present, but I am
fully resolved that this shall not happen again. I would have her know
that I am king, and I am determined to have my authority respected, and
for the future I shall insist and command that the princess do upon all
occasions appear at my court, as it is her duty to do."
This speech was made in a most excited manner, and took everybody
completely by surprise. The queen looked distressed, the princess burst
into tears, and the whole company were shocked. The Duchess of Kent
remained perfectly silent, but immediately rose and retired. She then
announced her intention to depart at once, and ordered her carriage; but
a sort of reconciliation was patched up, and she was persuaded to stay
until the next day.
The king asked one of his gentlemen what people said about his speech,
and was told that the general opinion was that the Duchess of Kent
merited the rebuke, though it ought not to have been given there before
a hundred people. His majesty replied: "I do not care where I said it
or before whom; I had been insulted in a measure by her that was past
endurance, and I will not stand it any longer."
[[A.D. 1837.]] The middle of this year was marked by the illness of the
king, which did not cause alarm at first; but it was greatly increased
by another quarrel with the Duchess of Kent. This was the cause of it:
The king wrote a letter to Princess Victoria, offering her ten thousand
{309}pounds a year for her own use, quite independently of her mother,
which he sent by Lord Conyngham, with orders to deliver into the
princess's own hands. On arriving at Kensington, Conyngham asked to be
admitted to the presence of the princess. He was requested to state by
what authority he made such a demand. He said by his majesty's orders.
Shortly after he was ushered into a room where sat the Duchess of Kent
with her daughter. He made a speech, saying, "that he had waited on her
royal highness by the king's commands, to present to her a letter with
which he had been charged by his majesty." Thereupon the duchess put out
her hand to take it; but the lord begged her royal highness's pardon,
saying, "That he had been expressly commanded by the king to deliver the
letter into the princess's own hands." Then the duchess drew back, and
Victoria took the letter. After reading it, she wrote to thank the king
and accept the offer. That was the signal for a grand dispute, for the
king desired his niece to name a person who was to receive the money for
her, and suggested Stephenson. The Duchess of Kent positively objected,
and put in her claim for part of the money. She was exceedingly angry
with the king, and he with her, and a great deal of harsh, bitter
correspondence resulted; but the matter was never settled, for his
majesty's illness prevented.
He was ill for several days before he would permit anybody to say in his
presence that such was the case, and continued to do business as long as
possible, even dictating the reports about his condition himself. On
the seventeenth of June prayers were offered for his majesty in the
churches, and the following day the sacrament was administered by the
Archbishop of Canterbury. He said, just after the ceremony: "This is
the eighteenth of June; I should like to live to see the sun of Waterloo
set." {310}For three weeks the faithful wife sat at his bedside,
performing for him every office he required, totally depriving herself
of rest or recreation. This was a labor of love, for Queen Adelaide had
always been devoted to her husband. With his head upon her shoulder, and
her hand upon his breast, his majesty gently dropped into the sleep that
knows no waking.
His remains lay in state at Windsor Castle until July 8, when he was
buried at St. George's Chapel. For the last time the royal crown of
Hanover was placed beside the imperial crown on the coffin of a King
of England. Queen Adelaide, now Queen-dowager, was present in the royal
closet. When the coffin had been lowered, dust thrown upon it, the
blessing pronounced, and a rocket sent up from the door of the chapel,
the flag at the Round Tower was lowered, and the royal widow left,
followed by the mourners.
[[A.D. 1849.]] Queen Adelaide lived until the close of the year 1849.
Parliament had made her rich by giving her a hundred thousand pounds,
which she devoted to charity. Neither rank nor wealth ever spoiled the
simplicity of her heart or her manners. She always respected the memory
of her husband, over whose reign she had shed a respectability that
did her credit. She was not what might be termed a woman of brains, and
never influenced the king for good or for evil; but she was wise enough
not to interfere in state affairs, and for her virtues she merits
respect.
In her will, Queen Adelaide requested that her coffin should be carried
to the grave by sailors,--a touching tribute to her husband's memory,
and to the Navy, to which she had shown her attachment.
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[Illustration: 0317]
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