CHAPTER XI

QUEEN VICTORIA’S TRAGIC MISTAKE

“It is really horrible that any family should be reduced to

thank God for _the blessing_ of depriving them of one of

its dearest members.”--_Lady Sophia Hastings._

“I think everyone should _own_ their fault in a kind way

to anyone, be he or she the lowest--if one has been rude to

or injured them by word or deed, especially those below you.

People will readily forget an insult or an injury when others

_own_ their fault, and express sorrow or regret at what

they have done.”--_Queen Victoria._

It was in 1839 that the most sad and regrettable event in the personal

story of Queen Victoria’s reign took place, the affair known as the

Lady Flora Hastings Scandal. Lady Flora, who was the eldest daughter of

the Marquis of Hastings and of Lady Hastings--Countess of Loudoun in

her own right--had been Lady in Waiting to the Duchess of Kent since

1834. Her name occurs as attending the Duchess at all Royal functions,

and there was a feeling of real affection between her mistress and

herself. In 1839 she was thirty-three years of age, a woman who had

proved her uprightness and sincerity, yet, because of dissension at

Court, because of the curious friction between the Queen and her

mother, she was subjected to the bitterest calumnies.

Ever since her accession the gulf between the Queen and the Duchess

had been widening, and there can be little doubt that Lehzen on the

one hand and Conroy on the other were the people who, willingly or

otherwise, were the cause of this. Victoria seems to have put the

Baroness so high in her regard as to give her the place which the

Duchess, with every justice and right, should have held. This was shown

publicly as well as privately, for I have seen a paragraph in one paper

of the day, that is to say of January, 1839, commenting upon the fact

that the Queen had been three times to the theatre, accompanied on each

occasion by the Baroness Lehzen, but not at all by the Duchess. The

two Royal ladies lived, it is true, in the same house, and the Queen’s

mother attended the Royal dinner table, and sat in the drawing-room

afterwards with her daughter’s guests; but beyond that they were

drifting towards a real and painful separation. The stories of Lehzen’s

rudeness to the Duchess were not without foundation, and her spite

against the Conroy family had in no way abated; thus, as Lady Flora was

friendly with the Conroys and was regarded as one of the “set” around

the Duchess she also was not much in favour.

In all quarrels there is some exaggeration, and some imagination as

well as some truth; there is also generally great difficulty in justly

deciding who is to blame; therefore it was only natural at the time

that there should have been many who believed the calumnies against

Lady Flora in spite of all the evidence in her favour. But to-day it is

quite certain that she is fully exculpated, that she alone comes out of

the trouble with honour.

Lady Flora returned from Scotland early in the year to her duties

about the Duchess, feeling very unwell; so much so that she consulted

Sir James Clark, physician both to the Duchess and to Her Majesty.

The medical treatment and the exercise prescribed did her good, the

swelling in her body subsided, and she thought she would soon be quite

well. But this enlargement of her figure had given rise to a certain

suspicion in the mind of the physician, which he was not man enough to

mention delicately or professionally to his patient. He thought about

it first, and then went to Lady Portman, one of the Queen’s ladies in

waiting, and told her what he believed. Hearing such a thing from the

doctor who had been in attendance upon Lady Flora made the suggestion a

fact to Lady Portman.

The story goes that she confided in Lady Tavistock, who thought it her

duty to repeat the information to Lord Melbourne, and eventually some

or all of them laid the matter before the Queen. What share Baroness

Lehzen bore in this little plot--for the way in which it was guarded

from the persons really interested gave it the semblance of a plot--it

is not easy to say, but later she was accused of being the centre of

offence. It is probable that advice was all she tendered, but if that

is so it was very bad advice, and it led the young Queen, who should

have been above all meannesses, to do that which should and did cost

her passionate regret and many tears. In the first instance, she was

impulsively harsh and suspicious; when it was proved that there was

no cause for either harshness or suspicion, she was just as repentant

and eager to make amends. But when in the bitterly disturbed state of

society the scandal grew out of hand and some signal mark was needed

from her to clear Lady Flora’s honour, all her kindliness froze. She

would neither take the blame nor allot it, but treated the whole affair

with a stony silence. This was a terrible mistake! If only she could

have put into practice the bravery of her own words, quoted at the head

of this chapter, how much better it would have been!

Once the idea of Lady Flora’s indiscretion was in Her Majesty’s mind,

her only, absolutely her only, honourable course would have been either

to see Lady Flora herself, or, if that seemed too difficult, to consult

her mother, the Duchess of Kent. But the Queen was so blinded by her

advisers or by her prejudices that she took the whole matter into

her own hands, and sent Sir James Clark to interview Lady Flora. The

following is part of a letter written about Lady Flora on March 7th by

the Marchioness of Hastings to her son-in-law, Captain Charles Henry.

[Illustration: LADY FLORA HASTINGS.]

“Sir James Clark, shocking to tell, accused her of being privately

married, and you can imagine her indignation and horror. She flatly

denied it, and then this ambassador said that nothing but a medical

examination by himself and another would ‘clear her character and

satisfy the ladies of the Court.’ From her he went to the Duchess (of

Kent), who resented the insult instantly. He was followed by Lady

Portman, who was deputed by the Queen to desire she would not appear

before her till ‘her character was cleared’ by this most revolting

proposal. The dear, dear Duchess could not make up her mind to this;

Flora desired it. Two persons have been named as those suspected of

her shame, Sir John Conroy, who has been like a father in his care of

her, and Lord Headfort, evidently as a cloak to the attempt which was

to separate Flora and the Duchess’s old and attached servant from her.

Flora persisted, and the Speaker (?) and Sir John Conroy both said she

was right, and the Duchess at last gave a reluctant consent. Flora

named Sir Charles Clarke in addition, and the strongest medical opinion

he and Sir James Clark could sign was given, to the confoundation of

those wicked persons who could so act. Flora wrote to Hastings (her

brother), who went up alone, and has behaved with a judgment and spirit

which is a cheer to me in so much misery. He went to Lord Melbourne,

and insisted on his thorough disavowal of having anything to do with

it; and asked an audience of the Queen. Lord Melbourne at first

refused, but Hastings insisted, and Hastings very respectfully but very

decidedly pointed out to Her Majesty the fallacy of such advisers, ‘be

they who they may,’ who could recommend such a course to her. Sorry

am I to say Lady Tavistock does not stand clear of wickedness and

vile gossip at least, but Lady Portman took the messages, after _a

man_ was sent to make the base attack on my poor child. The Duchess

kept by her, and refused till ample reparation was made to go either

to dinner or in the evening. To-morrow I will send you part of her

dear letter about my darling Flo. I dare add no more. The Queen sent

for Flora, the tears were in her eyes (I am glad they were so), and

expressed her sorrow. She (Flora) took it rightly, but added, ‘I must

respectfully observe, Madam, I am the first, and I trust I shall be the

last, Hastings ever so treated by their Sovereign. I was treated as if

guilty without a trial.’ She took it very well, and has been markedly

kind to her since. Sir James Clark has been dismissed by the Duchess.”

This letter from the Duchess of Kent was sent to the Countess of

Loudoun:--

“Buckingham Palace, _5th March, 1839_.”

“MY DEAR LADY HASTINGS,

“Our beloved Lady Flora will tell you all the dreadful things

that have occurred here; I will only say that no mother could

have defended a daughter more than I have done her. She is of

all her sex that being that most deserves it, and she stands

on the highest ground. This attack, my dear Lady Hastings, was

levelled at me through your innocent child. But God spared us!

“Believe me, the hour will come when the Queen will see and

feel what she has been betrayed into. When your first feeling

of indignation subsides, for mine knew no bounds, you will in

your nobleness of soul view with scorn all these proceedings. I

cannot say more. I have stood by your child and your house as if

all was my own. Believe me, with the truest affection and esteem,

“Your devoted friend,

“VICTORIA.”

Lady Flora’s first letter on this matter, written to her sister and

brother-in-law, runs as follows:--

“MY DEAR CHARLES AND SELINA,

“Though I know neither of you would ever believe (were the

Angel Gabriel to reveal it to you) anything evil of old Flo, I

must not let you hear from others the horrible conspiracy from

which it has pleased God to preserve me. It is evidently got

up by Lehzen, who has found willing tools in Ladies Tavistock

and Portman and Sir James Clark; evidently ultimately directed

against the Duchess (of Kent), though primarily against me.

The means employed were to blacken my character, and represent

me to be--I can scarce write the words!--with child! I have no

time for particulars to-day, but will write you fully to-morrow.

I have come out gloriously. I underwent as they demanded,

and the Queen urged by them did also, the most rigid medical

examination, and have the fullest certificate of my innocence,

signed by Sir James Clark and Sir Charles Clarke. My Duchess

could not have been kinder had she been my mother; she is one

of the noblest of human beings--Hastings came to town instantly

and behaved like an angel, with such judgment and affection!

All my real friends have been very true to me and very kind

to me. I would not write thus hurriedly, but I hear it has

reached the Clubs, and I fear your learning it from another

source, and being anxious about me. It made me very ill for two

or three days, I was so shocked and shattered. The poor Queen

was sadly misled in the business; she did not know what she did

and sanctioned; she is very sorry. I hear at the Clubs they

have named two or three names with mine; one is poor Sir John

Conroy’s. How infamous. No one, thank God, however, is disposed

to think ill of our father and mother’s child, nor has my

conduct been such as to encourage evil thoughts of me, and I am

told people are vehement at the insult I have received.”

Lady Flora complained of the way in which this examination was

conducted, and her maid, who was present, spoke of the roughness and

indecency shown. Later, when she was delirious, she accused the doctors

who attended her of saying she was like a married woman. During the

preliminaries Sir Charles Clarke, a specialist in midwifery, said

kindly, “Lady Flora’s answers are so satisfactory that we need proceed

no further,” to which “that brute, Sir James Clark” (to quote from Lady

Sophia) answered, “If Lady Flora is so sure of her innocence, she can

have no objection to what is proposed.”

There was little chance of keeping such an affair quiet. From club

to newspaper was but a step, and by the 10th of March Lady Adelaide

Hastings, a sister of Lady Flora, wrote: “It is known all over London,

and _The Morning Post_, though without the names, spoke so

distinctly of the whole occurrence that there is no hiding it, even

were there any advantage in so doing. In the whole truth there is

nothing that is not honourable to all but the Queen, her Ladies, and

Sir James Clark. The Duchess (of Kent), whose conduct has been most

kind and like a mother to our dear sister, and who bitterly feels the

insult, dismissed him from her household immediately. He is a wretch

to have allowed himself to be put forward as the tool of those base

women, and as a man and a physician has acted infamously. The Queen has

not yet dismissed him, but I think she must, at least if she has any

regard to public opinion, which loudly calls at least for his disgrace.

The Queen has been misled and duped, I think. I cannot believe that

she knew all that was said in her name, or that the message Lady

Portman brought us, as from her, had her real sanction. One would

think nineteen was too young for a woman so to forget what was due to

a mother, and to have so little regard for the feelings of one she

had lived in intimacy with. You will be grieved to hear that Lord

Harewood’s daughter (Lady Portman) could have acted as Lady Portman

has done, but she acted very ill. After giving the Queen’s message to

Flora (and, observe, it was not till after Sir James Clark’s insulting

charge), she went ‘by command’ to communicate it to the Duchess, on

whose saying, ‘She knew Flora and her family too well to listen to such

an imputation of that kind on her,’ Lady Portman insisted on asserting

it, as Flora says in her letter, ‘with a degree of pertinacity

amounting to violence.’ The Duchess refused to see her again. The

Duchess wrote Mamma a letter full of affection for Flora, and praise of

her conduct, and evidently bitterly feeling the Queen’s conduct. She

came and sat with Flora in her room that evening to try and comfort

her, and has indeed all along been most affectionate, but it is a sad

thing to feel that because they are so faithful to her, her friend and

servant must be exposed to indignity from her daughter. It was the 16th

of last month this took place. The Duchess and Flora stayed in her own

apartments for a week, as she said she would not associate with the

rest of the inhabitants of the Palace, till proper apologies had been

made. She was then induced to receive their ample apologies, as the

Minister (the Duke of Wellington,[5] who Flora says has behaved kindly

and like a good soldier) represented that it would injure the Queen if

she held out any longer.”

So far as this the matter was a most unhappy mistake, caused by gossip

and uncharitableness on the part of some, and by ignorance and an

unnatural prejudice on the part of the Queen. Had Victoria taken some

means, in addition to that of expressing her sorrow, of showing that

the blame was on her side, things would have smoothed down, and we

might never have heard of the affair. But she did nothing. The watching

public began to grow curious; if neither the doctor nor the two ladies

were sufficiently to blame to warrant dismissal, had there been some

truth in the charge after all? it not unnaturally asked. The two

following extracts from letters written by Lady Sophia Hastings show

the next stage of the scandal. They are hard and revengeful, and give

an impression of being the reflex of the prevailing bitter political

agitation as much as the result of the injury to the family.

“---- have given up Sir James Clark as their physician, and many

medical men have refused to meet him in consultation, as they, and Sir

Henry Halford among them, say he has cast an odium on the profession.

I hear they cried out, either in the Park or in the Theatre, to the

Queen, ‘Dismiss Lady Portman,’ and on Saturday she was hissed in the

Park. I hope this may bring her to her senses, and make her give up

the unfit people who are about her. The Royal Family have felt very

properly about this. Princess Sophia sent Mamma a message through Dr.

Doyle, who had seen her, expressive of her sympathy, and the Duchess of

Gloucester spoke in the same way, both reprobating the conduct of the

Queen. Even Lord Melbourne’s friends say, ‘It was a great oversight not

to dismiss Sir James Clark.’ The report is, _he_ says, ‘they dare

not dismiss him for fear of his telling things.’”

Again: “I am so angry with the whole pack. As long as they thought they

could keep matters quiet, and hide their own disgrace, they were all

so amiable, and the Queen so gracious to Flora. Since her family have

resented the affront, Her Majesty takes no notice, pays her not the

slightest attention for weeks, till after she was so ill she had two

medical men attending her for days, Her Majesty sends to inquire for

her. The child’s notice is worth nothing, but it shows the disgusting

meanness of the clique. Lady Tavistock keeps _rubbing against_

Flora at parties, following her, and trying to force herself on her

acquaintance. None of them appear _in the least_ sensible of

the generous forbearance which has spared their public disgrace and

conviction for the sake of their families. They go on as if _they_

were injured. Oh, how I hate them!”

This attitude of the Queen, who was evidently determined that she would

dismiss no one, and do nothing that would satisfy the public that Lady

Flora was innocent, and who resented the demand upon her that she

should do so as much as the Hastings resented the charge made against

a member of their family, led to very bad results. Before the end of

March gossip had but one theme, and that was the probable guilt of Lady

Flora Hastings. The talk was not confined to London; Paris, Brussels,

and Vienna were discussing the matter with interest; so much so that

Captain Hamilton FitzGerald, who had married Lady Charlotte Rawdon,

sister of the late Marquis of Hastings, wrote a letter to _The

Examiner_, which was copied into all the other papers. It was a

temperate, fair, and clear account of what had taken place, throwing no

imputation upon anyone; and it included the following paragraph about

Victoria: “Lady Flora is convinced that the Queen was surprised into

the order which was given, and that Her Majesty did not understand what

she was betrayed into; for, ever since the horrid event, Her Majesty

has shown her regret by the most gracious kindness to Lady Flora, and

expressed it warmly, with ‘tears in her eyes.’”

Captain FitzGerald was considerably blamed by various people for

this letter, so much so that two months later--an evidence of the

continuance of the scandal, which had by that time assumed very serious

proportions--he wrote a second and a third letter, which he sent to the

Marchioness of Hastings, as well as copies to Flora Hastings’ brother,

begging that they should be shown to everyone interested. They ran as

follows:--

“Brussels, _May 30th, 1839_.

“I have been blamed by so many people for having made (as they

say) an unnecessary exposure of the outrage inflicted on Lady

Flora Hastings at Buckingham Palace that I think it necessary

to explain why I published a narrative of the principal facts

attending it. I was living at Brussels when it occurred;

everyone there knew of it before I did. On the 13th of March I

received a letter from England giving me a minute detail of what

had happened, from which I thought there could not be a doubt of

her innocence, and that her brother had fully done his duty. I

was soon undeceived. Letters poured in upon me from all quarters

containing the same injurious reports. I found that Lord

Hastings’ proceedings were unknown, except in his own circle,

and at Buckingham Palace; that he was abused in the London Clubs

for not having acted with sufficient spirit, and that infamous

stories were circulated about his sister, under the old plea of

propagating lies with strictest injunctions to secrecy. Everyone

except her own family are acquainted with them. Whenever I tried

to trace them to their source,

I was met by the same answer: ‘I cannot give up my authority,

and I must beg of you not to quote me, but I assure you the

report is very generally believed.’ It was said that the present

was at least the second error, as when she left Buckingham

Palace last year she was certainly pregnant. Bets were laid on

the time when her situation would force her to ‘bolt’ from the

Palace! At Vienna it was believed on the 15th of March that she

had remained an hour on her knees begging mercy of the Queen,

and that Lord Hastings having, as a Peer, forced his way into

the Royal presence, had upbraided Her Majesty, who made him no

answer, but curtsied and retired when his tirade was over! I

immediately went to England; when I arrived in London I found

all these reports in circulation. Lady Flora’s family were not

in town, and the generality of indifferent people were inclined

to believe them. The known fact that no one of the Queen’s

household had been punished for the insult she had received

seemed to say that the Government did not think her assailants

deserved punishment, or, in other words, that she had not been

ill-treated by them. The inference from which was, that she

had been favoured and spared from motives of humanity. Nothing

seemed to me to prevent the complete establishment of this

opinion, but the prompt punishment which the Duchess of Kent

had inflicted on Sir James Clark by dismissing him from Her

Royal Highness’s household. I landed in the City, and remained

there many days to ascertain what judgment the respectable

and unprejudiced citizens had passed on the case. I consulted

with many persons, and by their assistance was present at

many discussions held by people who did not know me, at those

respectable houses where men of business pass their evenings,

and discuss the news and speculations. I found public opinion

was universally against Lady Flora. The general idea was that

‘she had been treated with unnecessary harshness,’ that she

‘should have been got quietly out of the way,’ that ‘such things

occurred every day in palaces, people who place their daughters

in them must take the consequences of doing so.’ It was often

said ‘her brother would not have been so quiet if he had not

known that more than he liked would have come out if the thing

had not been hushed up.’ I concluded that the opinion of the

people at large was the same as that of the people of London,

as they were both acted on by the same fallacious evidence,

anonymous statements in newspapers; and I was confirmed in my

original opinion that it was the duty of Lady Flora’s family

to extinguish all false reports by publishing a full statement

of the case, and openly challenging contradiction. I felt that

Lord Hastings could not do himself justice in publishing his

own acts, and that delicacy, brotherly love, and family pride

might prevent him from being sufficiently accurate and minute in

stating his sister’s wrongs. I therefore determined to publish

it myself.

“HAMILTON FITZGERALD.”

To the Marchioness of Hastings (Countess of Loudoun) Captain FitzGerald

wrote:--

“DEAR LADY HASTINGS,--The manner in which I find

myself avoided by ‘serviles’ for having exposed their infamy

made it necessary for me to write my reasons for publishing. I

sent Hastings a copy of it, and I now send you one. I have no

idea of publishing it, unless unforeseen circumstances do not

make it useful to do, but I beg of you either to show it, or

give a copy of it to anyone you choose. My first was a statement

of the facts, this is one of the lies of the infamous; the

actors knew that Flora’s established character would show off

their filth, so they tried to sap it. I have both Lady Portman’s

and Lady Tavistock’s statement of their conduct. By the former

it appears the doctor went _of his own accord_ to tell

his suspicions to Lady Portman, and asked her opinion. This

proves breach of trust, plotting, and malignity. Why, if he

had suspicions, did he not go to the Duchess of Kent? No! that

would have stopped his agitation. Why did Lady Portman reduce

an unanswerable examination into a doubtful consultation of

physicians on the state of Flora’s health? Because she knew it

would have answered all the lies in circulation about former

misconduct. But, bad as all this is, it is not as bad as Lady

Tavistock’s conduct. She says when she heard the reports in

February she wished to have spoken of them to Flora, but was

prevented by circumstances, and it became her duty to tell the

Prime Minister of them. What, I should like to know, prevented

her speaking to Flora? It could be nothing but a combination

having decided that neither Flora nor her Royal Mistress should

be informed of what was going on. Lord Melbourne, having been

informed of it, should either have stopped it, or informed

the Duchess of it, if he believed the report. I think Lady

Tavistock’s short note would convict her and Lord Melbourne

before any court in London.”

Of course, these letters present the case from one side; the pity is

that nothing remains in the way of evidence upon the other. The Queen

seems to have thought that the private expression of her sorrow was

sufficient. She did not realise, or she chose to ignore, that her very

position made the matter a public one, and that the whole country was

talking about and discussing the probability of Lady Flora’s guilt.

Either she herself had taken too great a part in the humiliation of

Lady Flora to allow herself to show displeasure to anyone without being

unjust, or she was obstinately determined to do and say no more to

clear her mother’s friend and servant, or she was screening one of her

own people. Lady Flora’s reputation would probably have suffered all

through a long life had she lived, because of the Queen’s silence and

disregard, but the illness which had afflicted her early in the year

returned, and she died in July.

Of this the Tories, who were, as has been said, in an excited,

disaffected state, made great capital. Their papers announced the

illness of Lady Flora, but ignored the mention of any specific disease;

she was raised to the position of a martyr that the Queen might be the

more effectually denounced. “Poor girl! the wound has not been healed,

and the calumniated lady is sinking under a blow inflicted by the yet

unpunished slanderers, who still seek the favour of the Sovereign

in the very Palace where the victim of their fiendish and indelicate

malignity is lying with breaking heart and bowed down spirit. She has

borne up nobly against the flood of demonised falsehood which has been

let loose upon her; now Nature can no longer sustain the contest, and

the body is prostrated by the agony of the mind. We dare not trust

ourselves to speak as we feel, but this we will say, that if Lady Flora

Hastings die, her death will fling a blight upon the Palace, which

Royal banquetings will never overcome, and regal smiles never make to

pass away.”

This is but a sample of many articles and paragraphs. The Baroness

Lehzen, though her name had not publicly appeared in the trouble,

was regarded generally as the most obnoxious person about the Court,

probably because she was never known to give counsel, and yet was

believed to be always whispering in the ear of the Queen.

Lord Tavistock and Lord Portman both wrote to the papers in defence of

their wives, the former denying that Lady Tavistock had taken any part

in the Flora Hastings trouble; the latter asserting that Lady Portman

did, on that painful occasion, neither more nor less than her duty

towards the Court, towards Lady Flora Hastings herself, and towards the

people of England, to whom, while in waiting upon her Sovereign, she

was constitutionally responsible. Lord Portman, however, went further

than this, if newspaper correspondents are to be believed. On the 3rd

of April he took the chair when the Guardians of the Blandford district

dined together; and on his wife’s health being drunk he in his reply

alluded to Lady Flora Hastings, saying that the conduct of Lady Portman

required no vindication, as a few months would testify.

With such hardness as this around her, one understands that the Queen

may also have grown somewhat hard; yet even if Lady Portman did not

credit the doctors’ certificate, the Queen could not have ignored it.

It is only possible to think that she did not understand what the

results of her own inaction must be; yet from the beginning there were

many who would have echoed Greville’s biting comment on the affair had

they heard it:--

“It is certain that the Court is plunged in shame and mortification at

the exposure, that the Palace is full of bickerings and heart-burning,

while the whole proceeding is looked upon by society at large as to the

last degree disgusting and disgraceful. It is really an exemplification

of the saying that kings and valets are made of the refuse clay of

creation; for though such things sometimes happen in the servants’

hall, and housekeepers charge stillroom and kitchen maids with frailty,

they are unprecedented and unheard-of in good society, and among

people in high or even in respectable stations. It is inconceivable

how Melbourne can have permitted this disgraceful and mischievous

scandal, which cannot fail to lower the character of the Court in the

eyes of the world. There may be objections to Melbourne’s extraordinary

domiciliation in the Palace, but the compensation ought to be found

in his good sense and experience preventing the possibility of such

_tricasseries_ as these.”

In June, Lady Flora suffered from what was regarded as a bilious

fever, from which she seemed to be recovering; but it returned,

and the vomiting weakened her so much that her physician--Dr.

Chambers--suggested that some relatives should come to stay with her

at the Palace. So her sister, Lady Sophia, went, and was there until

all was over; and so filled with bitterness was she at the treatment

given to Lady Flora that she would not have a bed prepared for her, but

rested when necessary on the sofa.

Lady Portman was said to be in great distress of mind during the last

illness of her victim, but it was not sufficient to prevent her from

amusing herself in the gay world, and she seems to have made some

remarks which aggravated the injury which she had done. Lady Selina

Henry, another sister, wrote while Flora was ill:--“In a letter from

Sophia to me there is a speech of Lady Portman’s repeated so gross that

she must be a beast; Flora says, ‘As for Ladies Tavistock and Portman,

I can never open my lips to them again.’ I think she knows this horror

that Lady Portman has said.”

[Illustration: LADY PORTMAN.]

Lady Tavistock seems to have felt some compunction in having

interfered, for the day before Flora died her doctor received the

following clumsy and ineffective note from Lord Tavistock:--

“Spring Gardens, _July 4th, 1839_.

“DEAR DR. CHAMBERS,--If you see a favourable

opportunity, Lady Tavistock wishes much you would say a kind

word for her to Lady F. Hastings, towards whom she has not

only never harboured an unkindly thought, but has been deeply

interested in her well-being. She has been greatly distressed

by the cruel and unfounded attacks that have so long been made

upon her in some newspapers, and it would afford her pleasure to

be able to convey a message of kindness to your patient, if you

think it could be done without disturbing her; but you will, of

course, exercise your own judgment and discretion about naming

the subject to her.--Yours truly, TAVISTOCK.”

Dr. Chambers took this letter to Lady Sophia Hastings, who returned the

following answer:--

“If I would have given the message, it is now beyond her comprehension,

but you may say--if it would be any consolation to Lady Tavistock--I

refer her to the Bishop of London.” In telling her mother of this

reply, Sophia adds, “I hear Princess Sophia was enchanted when Lady

Cornwallis told her this yesterday. She is very anxious to know if

anything of regret had been expressed.”

As to this matter of regret, though it was expressed for the death of

Flora Hastings, it was, as far as I can find out, only once connected

with any allusion to the scandal. The Queen sent for Dr. Chambers and

saw him alone, though the Baroness was in the next room. Her Majesty

seemed much subdued, and after thanking him for the report he had sent,

expressed her sorrow that suffering had been added to bodily illness.

Lady Sophia commented upon this:--

“I told him I was very glad Her Majesty should have appeared to feel,

and that she had done me the honour to enquire for me this morning.

The Duchess of Gloucester was very much displeased she had not done it

before, tho’ I believe she sent down that sad Friday morning, when I

was collecting poor Flora’s things, and I have an indistinct idea of

sending some answer, or Reichenbach (Lady Flora’s maid) did for me.”

A State ball arranged for Friday, June 28th, was postponed because of

“the melancholy state of Lady Flora Hastings,” and a Royal banquet

arranged for July 4th, the day on which Lady Flora died, was also

countermanded. The Countess of Loudoun wrote some impassioned letters

to the Queen, which eventually drew from Lord Melbourne the response

that the Queen had acknowledged the unhappy error to Lady Flora, and

it was not intended that any other step should be taken. This decision

was, most unfortunately, adhered to. It may be that Melbourne, always

praised for his generosity of mind, may have urged a different course

upon his Royal mistress, and that she, swayed by less wise counsels or

by her own pride, would not heed him. But it seems never to have been

acknowledged by the Court that the terrible publicity given to the

affair, which had been eagerly seized upon in the interest of party by

the Press, had altered the whole matter, and that action of some sort

was imperatively demanded. Lord Melbourne, who hated rows, who was

inclined to concede too much rather than too little to obtain peace,

and who was one of the justest and kindest of men, must have suffered

torment through this period.

If only Her Majesty had been royal enough and wise enough to have made

public the affair from her point of view, and, if she shrank from

ruining a man like Clark by dismissing him, have boldly said that she

could not do it, this matter would not have remained to burden her

thoughts with shame; but she wrapped herself in an inadequate covering

of dignity, trying to believe the antiquated saying that a Queen can do

no wrong. As a matter of fact, Dr. Clark entirely lost his reputation

with the public over this matter, and there is something pathetic in

the request Victoria made to Albert before their marriage:

“I have a request to make too, viz., that you will appoint poor Clark

your physician; you need not consult him unless you wish it. It is only

an honorary title, and would make him very happy.” Whether the Prince

did this I do not know. To the end of the Queen’s life this tragic

affair must have pained Her Majesty; and she certainly wished it to be

forgotten by everyone, for never anywhere is there given any mention

of it. It is ignored in most of the “lives” of Her Majesty, and every

scrap of allusion to it is withdrawn from her own letters and writings;

she herself later wrote of destroying most of the letters which

belonged to that, “the most unsatisfactory” period of her life. It must

not be forgotten that the deepest injury of all was inflicted by those

who were the first to make this matter public, that is to say, by those

who first reported it, for unworthy reasons, in the public Press. Many

mistakes as bad as this have been made and atoned for--in private, and

the sense of injury has disappeared; but when all the world knows of a

shameful thing, then the atonement should be public.

When Lord Hastings paid the doctors and nurses, his money was returned

with the information that handsome fees had been received. Lady Flora’s

maid showed him a brooch and a banknote for £50, which she offered

to put in the fire; this he advised her not to do, so she banked it.

Though it is not asserted in so many words, it is implied that the

Queen had taken this way of showing her compunction. The presents to

the maid had been conveyed to her through Viscountess Forbes. Lady

Sophia, anxious as she was all through to show the keenness of her

resentment, secured another note of the same amount, put it in an

envelope, and returned it through the same channel. Of Lady Forbes,

Sophia writes bitterly in the following letter, in which she also

emphasises the painful position of the Duchess of Kent:--

“I found Dr. Chambers knew _nothing accurately_ of Sir James

Clark’s conduct, so I told him the real state of the case; and as at

Harewood and at Lord Tavistock’s they had not told him the facts, I

did. I parted from him with more feeling of regret than I did from

anyone else. I saw the poor Duchess of Kent, who is ‘floored,’ I think.

She was very kind to me, and about all of us; but she is beat down, she

can fight no longer, and she will soon be completely under orders. I

saw Fanny Forbes (Viscountess Forbes) and cleared my mind to her of her

conduct. I cannot say that there was much good feeling in her going to

the Opera every night, tho’ the Queen told her she need not; and tho’

she came in when she came back, her flighty, flirty, lively manner,

just out of the world, jarred horribly with one’s feelings. When one

night she came in with a _jaunty_ step, we had just kept Flora

from a fainting fit, and had sent off for Mr. Merriman, as he had told

us such an attack might at any time prove fatal. When Mr. M---- came

I said, ‘Thank God it is only a fainting fit,’ and he said in such a

melancholy way, ‘_Only_ a fainting fit, Lady Sophia, and who could

tell how that might end?’ And Lady Forbes says she loved Flora like a

sister, and anxiety and watching has afflicted her health! She offered

to give back the hair Reichenbach gave her [after Lady Flora was dead],

but will not take out that given her by the Queen. I told her that hair

was probably false, as I could not trace how the Queen got it, but that

she did not care for. The Duchess of Kent did _not_ give it, for I

asked her.”

To remove entirely any lingering feeling of doubt, Lady Sophia caused a

post-mortem examination to be made, that a definite name might be given

to the illness which brought about her sister’s death, and she writes

thus of it to her mother:

“I have to hope, my beloved mother, that I shall not be so unhappy

as to incur your displeasure, or to have added to your agony, but if

it be, on me be the blame, for no one suggested it to me. I proposed

it to Hastings, and indeed it was due to the medical men who have

been so very attentive, and that was an ‘examination.’ It took place

at 6 o’clock yesterday evening, as late as it was possible. One was

proposed, but Chambers would put it off to a later hour. I left her at

once when he came, having wished her good-bye, and put round her neck

the locket with your and Papa’s hair, and I said that I trusted to him

that it remained there. He burst into tears, and promised me. John

remained the whole time out of respect while the surgeons were there,

and it was only a slight operation, no uncovering, nothing to wound the

feelings, not so bad as Sir James Clark. She was merely uncovered over

her stomach, as if it were a wound in her side. John put the locket on

her the last thing with his own hands, and he, Charles, and Hastings

are at the Palace every night and day, and Reichenbach and the nurse

sit up. _Every_ respect is shown. God bless you. I am late.”

There were five doctors present at the examination, Drs. Chambers,

Holland, and Merriman, Sir A. Cooper and Sir B. Brodie. The last

officiated, and it was found that Flora Hastings died from enlargement

of the liver, which, pressing downwards, produced enlargement of the

abdomen and inflammation.

It was curious that _The Times_, then devoted to Tory influence,

should have struck a different note from the other Tory papers, and

have asked, somewhat pertinently, though much to the anger of the

Hastings family, “Did the Ladies of the Bedchamber cause the liver

complaint of which Lady Flora Hastings died?”

The death of the maligned lady brought public indignation up to

fever-heat, and the Queen wisely remained in her Palace, for to be

hissed in the street is worse than to be forced to sit silently under

a parson who has licence to outrage all one’s cherished ideas. At the

Opera one night someone asked the box-keeper if Her Majesty would be

present, and the man replied:

“Oh, no; she dare not come!”

As for the Ministry, it was deeply depressed at the whole occurrence,

and Lady Cowper told someone that her brother, Lord Melbourne, felt

that its tragic ending was the worst blow the Government had so far

received.

Lady Flora was buried at Loudoun by her own wish, for she had said, “I

do not think I shall ever look upon Loudoun again, and I wish to be

taken there. Under other circumstances I should have said, ‘let the

tree lie where it falls,’ but as it is I wish to lie there.”

At four o’clock in the morning of Wednesday, July 12th, the coffin

was removed from Buckingham Palace. The Guards and Life Guards were

under arms all Tuesday night and Wednesday morning to show respect to

the dead woman, but there was also a tremendous body of police, who

accompanied the sad procession as far as Temple Bar, where they gave

place to the City police. This was done, Sophia Hastings was told, to

prevent the Queen’s carriage from being pulled to pieces, of which she

says, “which I never expected.” The fact that the Royal carriage was

to follow was kept so secret that the rest of the Royal family did

not know what to do. The whole matter had been so turned to party

uses that they did not like to show this public mark of respect if the

Queen did not set the example. The Duchess of Gloucester found out in

time, and she vexed the Duke of Cambridge very much by not letting him

know. Princess Sophia was the only one who followed her own wishes

irrespective of the actions of her niece, saying contemptuously of the

others that they were but timeservers to care what the Queen did.

Though the hour of the start had been given as six, there was a great

and silent crowd collected to watch the carriages pass at four o’clock,

hats being lifted all along the route. Many comments of a strong

nature were uttered; thus one respectable-looking man pointed with

his stick to Her Majesty’s carriage, saying, “What is the use of her

gilded trumpery after she has killed her?” A policeman hearing this,

went up and looked the man in the face, probably hoping to recognise

or to remember him. Another man was heard to say, “Ah, there’s the

victim, but where’s the murderer?” Sophia Hastings, who retailed these

incidents with relish, said of the drive through London: “Not one thing

pained me; the feeling was respect to her, and compassionate respect

to myself, and total absence of bustle, noise, or any confusion. Even

at the wharf you might have felt in a chapel, and I am told many were

disappointed” (probably that there was no disturbance).

The following letter was sent by the Duchess of Kent, three weeks after

the calamity, to Lady Selina Henry:--

“Buckingham Palace, _July 27th, 1839_.

“MY DEAR LADY SELINA,--My servant returned only the

day before yesterday, or I would have written to you sooner

to enquire how your excellent mother was after that most sad

ceremony. I feel quite sure it is not necessary I should tell

you how sincerely I felt for her, for you, and your sisters on

that melancholy day. Also your poor sister Sophia; I fear she

was very unwell on that day. Your and my severe loss appears to

me still a dream! Alas! a very painful dream. I shall be very

much obliged to you and your sister Adelaide to let me know how

you are all. I heard from your dear sister Sophia to-day that

your mother is still at Loudoun. I hope she will soon be able to

go near the sea. Be so good as to give her my most affectionate

regards, also to remember me most kindly to your sister, and to

give my compliments to Captain Henry, who I am sorry I did not

see before I left town. I was really not in a state to see him.

Your dear sister Sophia was not very well when she left town,

but I hope the change of air and scene will be very beneficial

to her. I hope, my dear Lady Selina, you will not quite forget

the friend of our beloved Flora, and believe me always to remain,

“Your very sincere friend, VICTORIA.”

Lady Hastings died six months after her daughter. Sir James Clark did

his best to prove himself innocent of all harshness and indiscretion,

but the attempt was not very satisfactory. He retained the Queen’s

favour until he died, in 1870. Lady Portman also held Her Majesty’s

friendship until 1865, when her death occurred. As for Victoria, she

never, as has been said, broke her silence, and something like general

hatred was felt for Baroness Lehzen, who was believed to have been her

adviser all through. As Sir Sidney Lee says in his Biography of the

Queen, however cogently Victoria’s attitude might be explained, the

affair “came near proving a national calamity through the widespread

hostility which it provoked against the Court.”

Urged by some members of his family, the Marquis of Hastings sent a

full account of all that had occurred to the _Morning Post_, his

letter occupying eleven columns, and in this Melbourne was entirely

exculpated, also Baroness Lehzen, but it did not elucidate the name

of the person with whom the first suggestion arose; many believed the

Queen’s youthfully autocratic ways were at the root of the offence,

while others did their best to distribute the blame.

Lady Flora was the author of many pretty verses, and her collected

poems were published after her death. The following, “Lady Flora

Hastings’ Bequest,” which was found among her papers, was not, however,

included in the collection:--

“Oh, let the kindred circle,

Far in our Northern land,

From heart to heart draw closer

Affection’s strength’ning band;

To fill my place long vacant,

Soon may our loved ones learn;

For to our pleasant dwelling

I never shall return.

Peace to each heart that troubled

My course of happy years;

Peace to each angry spirit

That quenched my life in tears!

Let not the thought of vengeance

Be mingled with regret;

Forgive my wrongs, dear Mother!

Seek even to forget.

Give to the friend, the stranger,

Whatever once was mine,

Nor keep the smallest token

To wake fresh tears of thine,

Save one, one loved memorial,

With thee I fain would leave;

’Tis one that will not teach thee

Yet more for me to grieve.

’Twas mine when early childhood

Turn’d to its sacred page

The gay, the thoughtless glances

Of almost infant age;

’Twas mine through days yet brighter,

The joyous years of youth,

When never had affliction

Bow’d down mine ear to truth.

’Twas mine when deep devotion

Hung breathless on each line

Of pardon, peace, and promise

Till I could call them mine;

Till o’er my soul’s awakening

The gift of Heavenly love,

The spirit of adoption

Descended from above.

Unmarked, unhelped, unheeded,

In heart I’ve walked alone;

Unknown the prayers I’ve uttered,

The hopes I held unknown.

Till in the hour of trial,

Upon the mighty train,

With strength and succour laden,

To bear the weight of pain.

Then, Oh! I fain would leave thee,

For now my hours are few,

The hidden mine of treasure,

Whence all my strength I drew,

Take, then, the gift, my mother;

And, till thy path is trod,

Thy child’s last token cherish,

It is the Book of God.”

It is interesting to know that Sir James Clark was a Navy doctor, who

by the friendship of King Leopold was placed in the household of the

Duchess of Kent in 1834, and as Navy doctors have no practice among

women, he could have known very little about the matter when he so

rashly judged Lady Flora Hastings. For the last ten years of his life

he lived at Birk Hall, Bagshot Park, which was lent him by the Queen.

By those who knew him he was regarded as an estimable, upright man.

The early court of Queen Victoria · 第 11 / 15 章