descended from Crusaders; the names of Sir Stephen and Lady Glynne are
on the Plantagenet Roll. Ancestors had been settled at Glynllifon,
Carnarvonshire, in very ancient times. The founder of the Hawarden
branch of the family, Sir John Glyn (1603-66), won distinction as a
lawyer both under Cromwell--he was Lord Chief Justice from 1655 to
1659--and Charles II. Notwithstanding his support of the Parliamentary
party, he seems to have been a Monarchist at heart and to have urged
Cromwell to take the title of King; and we know that he served quite
happily as King’s Serjeant under Charles II., even acting for the Crown
in the prosecution of Sir Henry Vane for high treason in 1662. It was
through him that Hawarden came into the Glynne family, for he purchased
it at a nominal sum when it was sequestered in the Civil Wars. The
castle itself was nearly in ruins and was never rebuilt. In 1752 Sir
John Glynne, Mrs. Gladstone’s great-grandfather, acquired through
marriage the adjoining property of Broad Lane, and the house belonging
to it, with much rebuilding and various additions, became the Hawarden
Castle with which the name of Gladstone is always associated. The ruins
of the old original castle still exist and form a picturesque object in
the grounds.
Sir Stephen Glynne died in 1815, and the care of the four children, two
boys and two girls, all under six years old, devolved on the mother.
She returned to her father, and she and the children lived with him in
Berkeley Square, at Audley End, and at Billingbere. It was only after
his death that she resided at Hawarden, where she was assisted in the
duties connected with the estate by her brother, the Rev. the Hon.
George Neville, to whom her husband, shortly before his death, had
presented the living of Hawarden.
A journal is still in existence in which Lady Glynne made notes about
her children during the years 1815-20. She describes Catherine as
beautiful, high-spirited, and strong-willed.
Catherine Glynne was not highly educated in the sense in which that
phrase is now understood. As a girl, she lived more out of doors than
indoors, became a good horsewoman and proficient in all the athletic
exercises, archery among them, then permitted to girls. She was not a
great reader then nor later, but contact with the life of the village,
the witnessing and even assisting in the schemes of improvement of her
mother and uncle in regard to the cottagers and the education of their
children, added to intercourse with people of intelligence in her own
rank of life, taught her valuable lessons. Her training helped to lay
the foundation of the excellent philanthropic work she accomplished on
her own account after her marriage, and to develop the qualities which
made her so admirable a companion for a great statesman. She could
scarcely be called intellectual, but she possessed a natural intuition
that never failed her, an equally natural shrewdness, and a keen sense
of humour. Another quality that stood her in good stead was a capacity
for making friends. One winter was spent at Hastings, and next door
were staying Prince George of Cambridge and his cousin Prince George of
Hanover. The young people speedily made acquaintance, and to the end of
her life Mrs. Gladstone had no warmer friend and admirer than the Duke
of Cambridge.
In 1829, when her daughters were about fifteen or sixteen, Lady
Glynne took them to Paris for educational purposes, and, among other
advantages, they enjoyed pianoforte lessons from Liszt. The sisters
were girls of singular beauty, and attracted much admiration. Lord
Douglas was so impressed that he induced his mother, the Duchess of
Hamilton, to call on Lady Glynne, and persuade her to let the girls go
to two or three balls at the Tuileries, the British Embassy, and the
Duchess of Hamilton’s. Lady Glynne yielded, and the girls had a very
enjoyable time.
Their brother Stephen, the head of the family, sat in the House
of Commons as Liberal Member for Flint Burghs, and afterwards for
Flintshire, from 1832 to 1847; his interests and tastes, however, lay
rather in archæology than in politics. He was a man of great refinement
and remarkable modesty, but he lacked the business capacity, as will
be seen later, needed for managing landed estates. Among his friends
at Oxford was W. E. Gladstone. The Glynnes, after the girls grew up,
often went abroad, and once when Catherine was with her brother in
Florence, they passed a gentleman who raised his hat. She asked Stephen
who the handsome young man was. “Don’t you know him?” he replied. “That
is young Gladstone, the Member for Newark, and the man who everybody
says will one day be Prime Minister of England.” Catherine was first
introduced to Gladstone at the house of Mr. Milnes Gaskell in London,
and then they used to meet at Lady Theresa Lister’s musical parties and
elsewhere. The two sisters were known as “the twin flowers of North
Wales,” were greatly admired in London society, and received numerous
proposals of marriage. They were, however, bound up in each other, and
were determined that one could not be engaged or married without the
other. Gladstone admired Catherine in silence, scarcely dreaming that
he dared aspire to her hand. In 1835 he was invited by Glynne to pay a
visit to Hawarden. But still he did not venture to speak. In the winter
of 1838-39 he was suffering from overwork, and was ordered abroad.
He had been a junior Lord of the Treasury, and also Under-Secretary
for War under Sir Robert Peel, and had published his book on Church
and State, and so was not without claims to distinction. In Rome in
December he met Stephen Glynne and his sisters, and there found courage
to propose to Catherine one moonlight night in the Coliseum. He had
repeated to her Byron’s lines from “Manfred” beginning:
“I do remember me, that in my youth,
When I was wandering,--upon such a night
I stood within the Coliseum’s wall--”
Notwithstanding his eloquent appeal Miss Glynne refused him, and it was
not until the following June at Lady Shelley’s garden party that she
accepted him. About the same time her sister Mary became engaged to the
fourth Lord Lyttelton.
When the two bridegrooms arrived at Hawarden for the wedding, they
walked down the village street, “Gladstone, tall and upright in figure,
pale and strong in face, with dark flashing eyes like an eagle’s; Lord
Lyttelton, something of a rough and awkward youth of twenty-one, with
rugged features, massive head, and intellectual brow; some one said,
gazing at Gladstone, ‘Isn’t it easy to see which is the lord?’”
The double wedding took place on 25th July 1839, at Hawarden Parish
Church, and was made the occasion for much festivity and rejoicing on
the part of the family and their friends, and of the humble inhabitants
of the district. Sir Francis Doyle was Gladstone’s best man, and he
wrote a poem for the occasion entitled “To Two Sister Brides,” of which
the following stanzas refer to Catherine:
“High hopes are thine, oh! eldest flower;
Great duties to be greatly done;
To soothe, in many a toil-worn hour,
The noble heart which thou hast won.
Covet not then the rest of those
Who sleep through life unknown to fame;
Fate grants not passionless repose
To her who weds a glorious name.
He presses on through calm and storm
Unshaken, let what will betide;
Thou hast an office to perform,
To be his answering spirit bride.
The path appointed for his feet
Through desert wilds and rocks may go,
Where the eye looks in vain to greet
The gales that from the waters blow.
Be thou a balmy breeze to him,
A fountain singing at his side;
A star, whose light is never dim,
A pillar, through the waste to guide.”
Immediately after the ceremony Mr. and Mrs. Gladstone drove to Norton
Priory, Cheshire, the seat of Sir Richard Brooke, whose daughter, Lady
Brabazon, was the bride’s best friend, where the honeymoon was spent.
Neither sister had been specially accustomed to the society of highly
intellectual or bookish men, and during the engagement neither
Gladstone nor Lord Lyttelton, as ardent lovers, had felt the necessity
of resorting to the classics when in the company of their fiancées. The
young brides, when comparing notes after the honeymoon, confided to one
another their dismay that at odd spare moments both husbands produced
pocket editions of Horace or Sophocles (or some other classical poet),
and filled the minutes by reading in them.
At the outset of their married life, Gladstone gave his wife the
choice: either to know nothing of the great matters of State in which
he would be involved and so be entirely free of responsibility, or to
know everything and be bound to secrecy. Needless to say, she chose
the latter. Fifty years later Gladstone declared, “My wife has known
every political secret I have ever had, and has never betrayed my
confidence.” He became a Cabinet Minister in 1843 as President of the
Board of Trade, and was six times Chancellor of the Exchequer and
four times Prime Minister, so that his wife had ample opportunity for
intimate acquaintance with State secrets, and for a corresponding
exercise of discretion. It is related that once in the early days of
Cabinet office she unwittingly said something that showed she had
some important knowledge of a confidential nature. She was terribly
upset and immediately sent Gladstone a little note of confession and
penitence,--he was engaged at work in his study in Carlton House
Terrace, where they were living,--to which her husband responded with
ready forgiveness, saying, “It is the only little mistake you ever
made.” Once she congratulated a man on his promotion before he knew
anything about it himself, but no harm was done by that, and it only
serves to prove how intimate was her knowledge of affairs. As a matter
of fact, no one could ever extract anything from her, though many tried
to do so. When she was asked what Gladstone was going to do in some
crisis or other, she would answer with the greatest naïveté, “Well, I
wonder, don’t you? What do you think he ought to do?” Some undiscerning
persons attributed her manner to stupidity, but Mrs. Gladstone always
knew what she was doing and saying, and why she did and said it.
After the honeymoon, and a visit to Fasque, Kincardineshire (the home
of Sir John Gladstone, where, so long as he lived, they spent some
time each year), Gladstone and his wife when in London lived at 13
Carlton House Terrace, which he purchased in 1840. About six months
after her marriage Mrs. Gladstone began to keep a fragmentary diary.
Some extracts, printed here for the first time by kind permission of
Mrs. Drew, form a record of her early married life, and illustrate her
intelligent observation of the people around her, and her sense of
humour.
“_April 1840._--Dined at the Archbishop of York’s, meeting
the Queen Dowager, also the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge,
Lady Harrington, etc. The Queen heard me speak of some one who
was ill, and asked me all about it when we came upstairs. She
beckoned to me to sit down by her. The Duchess of Cambridge
very kind and talkative to me, speaking of our marriage at
Hawarden, Mary’s and mine, upon the same day, and the Queen
joined in the conversation and also talked to William.
“I sat next to Guizot at Mr. Hallam’s; he only made out my
husband towards the end of dinner. He spoke English to me. We
also met Mr. and Mrs. Grote (she is dreadful), the Bishop of
London, George Lewis, Mrs. Austin, Dr.[50] and Mrs. Hawtrey.
“To a party at Buckingham Palace, arriving in time to see the
Queen[51] enter the room. She does this more gracefully than
I can possibly describe; it is quite a thing to see. Prince
George of Cambridge talked to me. Lord Melbourne looked aged
and careworn.
“At Northumberland House we met the Duke of
Wellington--interesting to watch the people’s manners with him.
He went out of his way to speak to William.”
The first baby, a boy, William Henry, was born on 3rd June 1840.
“_April 1841._--Lord Lyndhurst[52] was on the platform at
Twyford station. I saw him look at Baby, and the nurse said he
noticed his intelligence, and having asked whose child he was,
said, ‘Will you ever be as clever a man as your papa?’
“Sir Robert Peel desired William to introduce me to him at Lady
Jersey’s; he talked of his daughter’s approaching marriage to
Lord Villiers.[53] He seemed in great force, which the events
of the past few weeks would account for. Lady Peel said to
William, ‘Has not he done it well? It is very soon after the
want of confidence motion and the majority of one.’ The Duke of
Cambridge was very loquacious, but I was not a little relieved
at his fastening upon William.
“I sat next the Duke of Wellington at the Archbishop of York’s
dinner, but I had his deaf ear; yet I was pleased to think he
had spoken to me before either of us died--have long wished for
this.”
“_September 21, 1841._--Dinner-party at home. The future
Bishop of New Zealand was with us; his conversation was very
interesting as to his going to New Zealand, very touching
the way he spoke of his wife: ‘She feels just as I could
most wish; she has all the tenderness of a woman joined to
the greatest firmness and resolution.’ I was present at his
Consecration at Lambeth Chapel, that fine touching service
never to be heard without emotion, but in the present instance
how peculiarly affecting. He was leaving his native land and
all that he held most dear. I believe there was scarcely one
dry eye. May I be the better for this day!
“William and I visited the Bishop at his house at Eton, so as
to be present at the farewell dinner given by Mr. Coleridge
the day before his farewell sermon at Windsor. There were
forty present. I sat between Judge Patterson and Dr. Hawtrey.
Afterwards Mr. Coleridge proposed the health of the Bishop in a
touching speech, for which the Bishop returned thanks. Devoted
to the service of his God, he is able to feel the step he has
taken not as a sacrifice but as a privilege; he unites unusual
tenderness of feeling to great manliness of character. The
scene was an extraordinary one. Casting the eye down a long
dinner-table, most of the guests were in tears, men and women
sobbing, poor old Dr. Keate (to-day was my first introduction
to him), his head upon the table, his face buried in his
pocket-handkerchief.[54] I never witnessed such devotion. His
sermon (_i.e._ the Bishop’s) the following day was striking and
affecting; a crowded congregation, there was not even standing
room. Evidently he is not allowing himself to have any idea of
returning to live in England.”
“_December 20, 1841._--I find London very empty. William is
absent from twelve to seven in the daytime,[55] and works hard
all the time he is at home, but I am greatly relieved to be
with him again, though it is a little dreary sometimes in the
day. I have been reading Hook’s _Sermons_, and I have finished
_Ten Thousand a Year_,[56] which, although vulgar, is clever
and interesting. I sat an hour at his office at the Board of
Trade.
“_January 1, 1842._--A new year is always an awful thing. God
give me grace to become better in the future! I feel acutely
how little good I do--but to feel is not enough.
“_January 6._--I am thirty to-day--a terrible thought. We had a
dinner-party for Mr. Grenville (Uncle Tom).[57] He sat nearly
an hour with me in the afternoon. As he walked from Hamilton
Place and back this was pretty well for eighty-seven.
“_January 17._--William dined in the city to meet Prince
Albert. Peel spoke well, and the Prince was evidently affected
in alluding to his dear ties which bind him to England.
Elizabeth Fry sat between the Prince and Sir Robert Peel.
“_January 20._--William dined at Putney with Lord and Lady
Ripon. He liked her extremely, and she was particularly
thoughtful in wishing me to come there for country air.
“_January 22._--Dined with the Barings to meet Lord and Lady
Stanley, Lady Granville, etc., Lord Stanley[58] taking me in
to dinner. I was very shy, he was in great spirits, full of
fun and jokes. At all events _he_ can shake off the cares of
office. I was interested, but relieved when we went upstairs,
where I got on with both the ladies well.
“_January 24._--George, the page, did not know what event we
celebrated on Christmas Day! I hope he will come on, but it is
sad, as he is near fifteen.
“_January 29._--To-day William met the King of Prussia[59] at
Bunsen’s. H.M. recognised him, and said he wished to have some
conversation with him about his book. Lady Canning was the only
lady except the hostess. A queer medley of people--clergymen,
Quakers, scientific men. I dined at Mrs. Grenville’s, meeting
the Duchess of Sutherland,[60] Lord and Lady Mahon, Mr.
Harcourt, and Mr. Samuel Rogers. Pleased with both Duke and
Duchess; she spoke so nicely and naturally about nursing her
babies.
“_January 31._--We dined at the Duchess of Beaufort’s alone,
and to Stafford House[61] afterwards. Never so struck by
that splendid house, specially the staircase, where a band
was playing. Saw the King of Prussia; a strong likeness to
O’Connell, with an ingenuous countenance.
“_February 1._--At the Duke of Wellington’s to meet the King of
Prussia--the first time I had been to Apsley House--which gave
me great pleasure; he sat near the pianoforte listening to the
music, apparently lost to everything besides.
“_February 5._--William told me something of great interest; he
was harassed, and we were glad to escape quietly to pass our
evening alone.
“_February 6._--At St. Martin’s and St. James’s Churches.
Before the end of the day William a different being, and his
appetite returned.
“_Sunday, February 13._--A note from Sir Robert Peel desiring
William to follow Lord John Russell in the House on Monday. He
made no preparation to-day.
“_February 14._--This has been a happy chance which fixed my
night at the House of Commons for his speech. Lady Stanley was
in the next division. I found myself nearly upon Lady John
Russell’s lap--with Lady Palmerston and some other wives near;
funny, we began talking, though before unacquainted, and I told
her my husband was to answer hers, which news she received with
the greatest interest. She said her heart was beating, and she
was all attention when Lord John began. He spoke for an hour
and a half with eloquence and cleverness, but he made one slip,
which William made much of in a speech which lasted two hours.
It was quite pain to me before he got up, but before he had
said many words, there was something at once so spirited, so
collected, in his manner that all fright was lost in intense
interest and delight. Pride is not perhaps the right feeling;
great thankfulness was, however, mixed up with it. We heard him
very well; he was rapid, and without the smallest hesitation
throughout. Peel was evidently much delighted, and from all
I gather this speech has made a very great sensation. We had
coffee in our room--how snug I need hardly describe, indeed I
could not.
“_March 2._--Went to Lady Peel’s. I was struck by Sir Robert’s
cordiality for William’s sake, and never had more satisfactory
things said of him than from Mrs. Dawson, Peel’s sister. A very
popular party with all kinds. M.P.’s wives make obeisance to
Lady Peel, which was fun to watch.”
In view of the philanthropic work Mrs. Gladstone was to do later, the
following entry is of interest:
“_March 3._--Lord de Tabley drove me in his cabriolet to the
Mendicity Society, where we spent a long time. Most interesting
to hear the examination of the numberless cases of poverty, and
to see the quickness and the knowledge of the interrogators. I
could have wished to see less asperity and suspicion in their
manner. Alas! that such glaring and constant imposition should
cause this, as I believe that a certain degree of severity is
necessary. Out of thirty cases only one, in all likelihood,
will turn out true.
“_March 19._--Dined with Lord and Lady Stanley. Lady Stanley
very nice and looking better than I have seen her. After
dinner Lord Stanley came and sat by me and was particularly
agreeable. I found I lost my awe of him, he was so easy and
pleasant. The conversation took the turn of an official life,
and he questioned me about William. He said that he had the
chief brunt of the work now. Lord Stanley has cold chicken and
weak wine and water late at night, and is very apt to sit,
while eating it, with his feet in hot water, specially if
excited or after speaking. Then he takes a suitable novel for
half an hour, which composes him to sleep. When Chief Secretary
for Ireland, he worked eighteen hours a day. He maintains that
with mental work there is no need for bodily exercise, which
accordingly he never takes now. He prides himself upon twenty
years’ experience. This may be all very well, but the truth is
his health is particularly good. He went off afterwards on the
various tricks in speaking. He took off Peel, who, he says,
is very nervous at times. He could not remember any trick of
William’s. He was full of interesting anecdotes. A few days
ago at Peel’s some one was placed by the Duke of Wellington,
who gave an elaborate account of things relating to India. The
Duke sat in his armchair, his chin upon his chest, listening
with occasional grunts. The man having gone on--on, the Duke
suddenly came out in the quietest manner with, ‘I’ve been in
India.’ Stanley told it very well.”
Mrs. Gladstone was present at the Queen’s fancy dress ball at
Buckingham Palace on 12th May. She went as Claude, wife of Francis
I. of France, and wore a deep red petticoat opening in front, large
sleeves of gold tissue and a crimson cap. She found the ball a striking
and amusing sight.
At a dinner-party at Lord Ripon’s in July, Peel took Mrs. Gladstone in
to dinner. She was glad of this because it enabled her to thank him for
the letter[62] he had written to her father-in-law about Gladstone. In
it Peel said: “At no time in the annals of Parliament has there been
exhibited a more admirable combination of ability, extensive knowledge,
temper, and discretion. Your feelings must be gratified in the highest
degree by the success which has naturally and justly followed his
intellectual exertions, and that the capacity to make such exertions is
combined in his case with such purity of heart and integrity of spirit.”
Mrs. Gladstone gives the following interesting account of Peel’s talk
at dinner:
“He was in great force, some of the conversation very interesting. He
had seen a letter written by the Duke of Wellington soon after entering
the army, in which he expressed the hope that he should be taken out of
the army, as there seemed to be no chance of any promotion!!
“Peel told me he required very little sleep, that he was a light
sleeper at any time, and got but a small portion when his mind was
occupied. He still regretted the political power which some had, the
Duke of Wellington for instance.”
Mrs. Gladstone in these years saw something of the Royal children, as
their governess, Sarah, Lady Lyttelton,[63] was the mother-in-law of
her sister Mary. The following visits to the Palace are recorded in the
Journal:
“_July, 1842._--Went to see Lady Lyttelton and the Royal
children. The Princess[64] is a very interesting child, no
longer answering to Mary’s[65] description, ‘a sadly delicate
thing.’ She is the image of the Queen. I played on the
pianoforte, which delighted her, she tried to dance, and when I
stopped called for ‘more.’ The Prince of Wales a fine, fair,
satisfactory baby, whom William and I gazed upon with deep
interest. We kissed his little hand. Who could look at him and
think of his destiny without mixed emotion?”