Title: Glimpses of King William IV. and Queen Adelaide
Author: Mary Clitherow
Editor: G. Cecil White
Release date: January 26, 2011 [eBook #35086]
Most recently updated: January 7, 2021
Language: English
Produced by David McClamrock
THE following pages are mainly compiled from certain letters by Miss Mary Clitherow, which have come into the editor's possession. They afford glimpses of the Court at that time, with reference not so much to public functions as to their Majesties' more private relations with persons honoured with their friendship. The reader will meet with few, if any, references in them to leaders in political or philanthropic movements or in the realms of literature or fashion; but it is not to be inferred that these were regarded with disfavour or treated with coldness by their Majesties, whose kindly interest in the well-being of their people is notorious. There were in this short reign many commanding personalities whose names must live in our history, and ever be remembered With respect and gratitude. To name only a few: the Duke of Wellington, Lords Grey, Melbourne, Brougham, Palmerston and Shaftesbury, Sir Robert Peel, William Wilberforce, Sir Walter Scott, Robert Southey, Thomas Campbell, S. T. Coleridge, Henry Hallam, Bulwer Lytton and William Thackeray were among the leading spirits of the time.
With such, however, these pages have no direct concern. They treat of personal friends whose interests lay neither in the Court nor in the Senate, and whose aims had no taint of self-seeking. The knowledge that William IV.'s intimate friends were high-minded, independent, kind-hearted English gentlefolk assures us that the King's well-known simplicity of taste was joined to a kindliness of heart, a sincerity of character, and a devotion to duty which enabled him to maintain his heritage of royal responsibility, and to hand it on to his successor with its honour restored, its resources enlarged, and its security confirmed.
II. DEFEAT OF THE MINISTRY—DINNER AT ST. JAMES's, 1830
IT seems almost incredible that in the twentieth century a station on the Metropolitan Railway should stand amidst quite rural surroundings. About Brentford,[*] however, there are still several fine properties which have hitherto escaped the grip of the speculative builder—e.g., Osterley Park, the seat of the Earl of Jersey, and Syon Hill, the seat of the Duke of Northumberland—and the immediate neighbourhood of Boston Road is not yet covered with semi-detached villas, or sordid streets of jerry-built cottages. It is nearly a quarter of a mile's walk along the road leading from Hanwell to Brentford before one comes to the first house on the right. Though not a mansion of the first rank, it is of sufficient size and antiquity to arrest attention. This is Boston House. It stands a little back from the high road, and the handsome iron gates allow the passer-by a glimpse of its quaint gables and narrow stone porch. It was built in 1622, and is a brick house of three stories, with three gables in front, and a long range of offices, etc., stretching from it on the north side.
[*] In a paper reprinted from Home Counties Magazine for October, 1901, occur the following remarks in 'Royalty in the Parish': 'Edmund the Atheling, also called Ironside, in 1016 was murdered at night in a house at Brentford by his brother-in-law, Edric Steone. Henry VI. in 1445 held a chapter of the Garter at the Red Lion Inn, Brentford. Charles I. witnessed the Battle of Brentford between his troops and those of the Parliament in 1642 from the grounds of Boston House. But it is not generally known that King William IV. and Queen Adelaide dined at that house in 1834.'
The hall, which is not large, is surrounded by shields bearing the arms of former owners of the manor. The first of these to the north of the entrance is that of Edward I., who granted the manor to St. Helen's Hospital in the City of London. Then follow those of Edward VI., who granted it to the Duke of Somerset; Elizabeth, who granted it to Robert, Earl of Leicester; Charles II. and William IV., who visited Boston on several occasions. In addition to these are seen in order those of other holders of the manor: Rollesby, who devised it to St. Helens; St. Helen's; Edward, Duke of Somerset; Robert, Earl of Leicester; Sir Thomas Gresham, who also owned Osterley; Sir W. Read; I. Goldsmith. These are on the south side. On the north are Clitherow and Hewett; Clitherow and Campbell; Clitherow and Barker; Clitherow and Paule; Clitherow and Gale; Clitherow and Jodrell; Clitherow and Powell; Clitherow and Kemeys; Clitherow and Pole; Clitherow and Snow.
The drawing-room, which is on the first floor, has a very fine moulded ceiling with many beautiful medallions. These contain allegorical representations of Peace and War, the five senses, the four elements, the three Christian graces, etc. The mouldings and borders are picked out in red, and the Latin names of the subjects are in gilt letters. The walls of this room, as well as those of the dining-room and library, are hung with many portraits of the Clitherow family by leading artists of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. Among these should be specially noted a pastile by Zoffany of Mr. and Mrs. and Miss Child, taken in the porch at Osterley. Mrs. Child (née Jodrell) was the sister of Mrs. Clitherow, and afterwards married (1791) the third Lord Ducie. Miss Child married the tenth Earl of Westmoreland, and became the mother of the Countess of Jersey. Here are also to be seen examples of Rubens, Van Dyke, C. Lorraine, Sir P. Lely, Sir G. Kneller, Romney, Zuccharo, Van Somers, Zoffany, and many others. Behind the drawing-room is a State bedroom, the ceiling of which is also moulded and coloured.
The grounds are extensive, and well planted with shrubs, roses, etc. There are several fine trees on the lawn. A yew-tree with long branches trailing near the house covers a circle of ground over seventy yards in circumference, and a cedar, which was sown in 1754, is an exceptionally fine specimen. To the east of the broad terrace lies the orchard, where in June, 1834, the neighbours stared at the Royal party and got Queen Adelaide's 'dress by heart,' while the haymakers cheered her Majesty and quaffed their allowance of beer. [See Chapter VI.]
To the west of the lawn shady paths lead through a pretty wilderness to the river Brent, beyond whose winding course there lies undulating and well-timbered, park-like land, adjoining the grounds of Osterley—a homely bit of characteristic English scenery.
This beautiful place, which is at present owned by the Rev. W. J. Stracey Clitherow, formerly Fellow of Magdalene College, Cambridge, has been in possession of the family since it was purchased by James Clitherow in 1670. The family, though never ennobled, is an ancient one, with a very honourable record. In the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries they resided at Goldmerstone, in the parish of Ash, near Sandwich. The remains of several of the family lie in the parish church there, and the brasses of two remain, though one is sadly mutilated. This last is to the memory of Richard Clitherow, who was Sheriff of the county of Kent in 1403, and 'Admiral of the seas from the Thames eastward.' He married the daughter of Sir John Oldcastle, who, in right of his wife, assumed the title of Lord Cobham,[*] and died for the faith of Christ on Christmas Day, 1417, among the Lollard martyrs at the gate of St. Giles' Hospital. The family was represented at Agincourt in 1415; one sat for the county of Kent in Parliament in 1407, and another was Lord Mayor of London in 1635.
[*] From Sir John Oldcastle the Clitherows derive both their arms and crest. In the reign of George IV. the head of the family was Colonel James Clitherow, born in 1766, who married Miss Jane Snow, of Langton, Dorset. A portrait of him hangs in the library, painted by Romney in the year 1785. He was a high-minded, accomplished, and conscientious English gentleman, who took an active interest in many good works, both of local and wider importance. He was actively interested in the establishment of the Hanwell Lunatic Asylum, in the Board Room of which his portrait by Pickersgill may still be seen. He was Chairman of the Visiting Justices of the institution from its opening in 1832 till April, 1839, and in 1835 he founded the charity (still in existence) known as Queen Adelaide's Fund.
Colonel and Mrs. Clitherow's home at Boston House was shared by his sister Mary, who was two years his senior. About the year 1824 they became acquainted with the Duke of Clarence, afterwards King William IV., who then resided at Bushey, of which park he was Ranger; and they were admitted to an unusual degree of intimacy with their Royal neighbours, observing in their intercourse with them an honesty not usually found in courtiers, but quite in keeping with the family motto, 'Loyal, yet true.' So close did this intimacy become that, after his accession, the King nicknamed Miss Clitherow 'Princess Augusta,' in allusion to her being the old maid of the family as the Princess was in his own, and when inquiring for her of Colonel or Mrs. Clitherow would say, 'How is your Princess Augusta?' her of Colonel or Mrs. Clitherow would say, 'How is your Princess Augusta?'
Although, however, the Clitherows were frequent guests at Windsor and St. James's, they were not courtiers in the common acceptation of that term. They sought neither place nor preferment, and received no signal mark of Royal favour. Miss Clitherow never even attended a Drawing Room, and the Colonel and his wife only appear to have done so on one occasion, when the Queen remarked: 'I knew Miss Clitherow would not come; it is too public. She had almost left off going out till we made her come to St. James's.' Miss Clitherow was naturally of a quiet and retiring disposition, while her own account of her introduction to the Court, and of the independent spirit which pervaded the family, is interesting not only in itself but as illustrating the kindly sincerity of the King and Queen. Writing to an old friend in November, 1830, she says:
'I can hardly believe that I feel as much at home in the Royal presence as in any other first society, but it is the fact. It is seven years that my brother and Mr. [sic] Clitherow have been noticed, but I am only just come out now. For many years my health did not allow of my dining out, and I got so out of the habit that I avoided it, and quite escaped being asked to Bushey till the Duke became King. Before George IV. was buried they were invited; no party but the Royal brothers and sisters and the Fitz-Clarences. They did me the honour to talk of me, the King calling me my brother's Princess Augusta, in allusion to my being the old maid of the family, and then added: "I can't see why she does not some out; you must dine here Tuesday, and bring her." So the deed was done. Refuse I could not. I dined at Bushey, then twice at St. James's, then on the Queen's birthday at Bushey, and then went to Windsor Castle on Friday and stayed till after church on Sunday, and now to dinner at St. James's last Monday. So that actually [in less than five months] the little old maid of Boston House has dined seven times with King William IV., and honestly I have liked it. There is a kindness and ease in their manner towards us that must be gratifying . . . and when we come home what a feeling of comfort we have in not being obliged to live in that circle, with all the insincerity so often belonging to courtiers! I am very sure my dear Jane's honest manner and the sound judgment which she ventures to express to Her Majesty makes her such a favourite. Much as we are noticed, we do not court them, and never have asked the slightest favour. When they first went to Windsor our friends said: "You must drive over and put your names down." "No," Mrs. Clitherow said, "we were asked to the Queen's birthday; I will not go before the King's, it will look like pushing to be asked." And we received our invitation to Windsor before we had called. When we came away, the King expressed a hope to see us at Brighton, as he knew we frequently went into Sussex. Our friends all were for sending us thither, but it did not suit us. Don't you like independence? As soon as they came to town we did put our names down. Miss Fitz-Clarence writes herself to Mrs. Clitherow to inform her of her intended marriage with Lord Falkland, and Mrs. Henry is employed to write and invite us to dinner to meet our own friends. So I think we rather go the right way to please them.'
Surely few families have taken their motto more faithfully as a guide to their conduct!
THOUGH the reign of William IV. was free from any serious war, the political condition of the country was such as to cause the King much anxiety. The establishment of a popular Government in France under Louis Philippe gave a great impulse to the enthusiasm which had been growing in England for Parliamentary reform, which, through the growth of large manufacturing centres since 1790, had become a more urgent necessity every year. In 1795 Lord Grey brought forward a motion on the subject, which was opposed by Burke and Pitt, and thrown out by a large majority. The attention of the country was somewhat diverted from reform during the war with France, which was brought to a close after the Battle of Waterloo in 1815. Its advocacy in Parliament was renewed in 1817 by Sir Francis Burdett, while William Cobbett's pamphlets, and large public meetings, often attended by riots, voiced the popular feeling, which Parliament endeavoured to stifle, thereby only adding to the discontent. Lord John Russell, in 1819, proposed resolutions in its favour, but failed to carry them. Lord Liverpool's ministry, which lasted till his death in 1827, was strenuously opposed to it, and Canning's death in the same year was a further check to political progress.
The General Election, consequent on the accession of William IV., was favou[r]able to the supporters of reform, and the Duke of Wellington, who had been Prime Minister for more than two years, roused a great deal of feeling by declaring his unqualified disagreement with their views. Before, however, any resolution was brought forward, the Government was defeated on a motion connected with the Civil List, and the Duke immediately resigned. On the night of his defeat, the Clitherows were dining at St. James's, and the following extract from a letter dated November 20, 1830, tells us of the reception of the news at the Palace:
'We were at St. James's the night of the Duke's defeat in the House. The King had a note, which he opened, and left the room, but soon returned. Colonel Fred Fitz-Clarence came in, and told the Queen[*] of it in German. Miss Wilson was sitting by me, and exclaimed, "Good God!" in a low tone. I looked at her; she put up her finger, and afterwards whispered what was said in German, but nothing transpired—not a comment. It's the great secret at Court to smile and be cheerful and attentive to the circle round you when the heart is sad, and it was exemplified that evening.'
[*] Queen Adelaide was the eldest daughter of George Frederick, Duke of Saxe-Meiningen, born 1792. By her marriage in 1818 to William IV. she had two children, both of whom died in infancy.
The news appears from this to have fallen like a thunderbolt upon the party, and the inference as to the Clitherows' views is that they were supporters of the Duke. The letter proceeds to touch of matters of less public importance, but illustrative of the King and Queen's interest in local affairs and English industries:
'We had dined there, and it seems almost like vain boasting, but it was a party made for us. When the King told Mrs. Henry to write and invite us, he said: "I shall only ask Colonel Clitherow's friends that I have met at Boston House." And it was the Duke of Dorset,[*] Lord[**] and Lady Mayo, the Archbishop and Mrs. Howley, the rest of the company his own family, the Duke of Sussex,[***] and a few of the Household-in-waiting. There could not be a greater compliment. The Queen shows a decided partiality for Mrs. Clitherow. In the evening she sat down to a French table, and called to her to sit by her. The King came in and sat down on the other side of Mrs. Clitherow. She rose to retire, but he said: "Sit down, ma'am—sit down." Two boxes were placed before him, and he said to Miss Fitz-Clarence[****]: "Amelia, I want pen and ink." Away she went, and brought a beautiful gold inkstand, and he signed his name, I am sure, a hundred times, passed the papers to Mrs. Clitherow, and she to the Queen, who put them on the blotting-paper, then folded them neatly and put them in their little case to enable them to pack into the boxes again, conversation going on all the time. When the business was over, the King took my brother to a sofa, and chatted a long time, inquiring into the state of things in our neighbourhood, policemen, etc. The Queen's new band was playing beautifully all the evening, which she said she had ordered to have my brother's opinion. The late King's private band cost the King £18,000 a year. It was dismissed, and a small band is formed—I believe I may say all English, and many of the juvenile performers whom she patronizes. Her dress was particularly elegant, white, and all English manufacture. She made us observe her blend was as handsome as Lady Mayo's French blend. "I hope all the ladies will patronize the English blend of silk," she said. She is a very pretty figure, and her dress so moderate, sleeves and head-dress much less than the hideous fashion.'
[*] Charles Sackville Germain, fifth Duke of Dorset, K.G., was a son of the first Viscount Sackville, and born 1767. He became Viscount Sackville 1785, and succeeded his cousin, the fourth Duke of Dorset, in 1815.
[**] John Bourke, fourth Earl of Mayo, born 1766, succeeded his father 1794. Married Arabella, fourth daughter of W. M. Praed, Esq. His brothers were Bishop of Waterford and Dean of Ossory.
[***] H.R.H. was the sixth son of H.M. George III., born 1773, and was unmarried.
[****] The King's youngest daughter, by Mrs. Jordan; born 1807, married, 1830, the ninth Viscount Falkland.
THE following long letter bears testimony to the King's conscientious discharge of duty, to his anxiety with regard to public affairs, to the Queen's devout religious spirit, and to her non-interference in politics:
'April 13, 1831.
'How very odd it was that I should find your letter on the table requesting to hear a little about Royalty on my return home from a three days' visit to Windsor Castle, the beauty, splendour, and comfort of which is not to be described! We were twenty-nine in the Castle, and dined from thirty-four to thirty-six each day, and Sunday forty. The King asked all the clergy who received him in the room before we went into the Royal pews. I am sorry to say that service wants reform. We were two hours and a half, the service very ill read, the quantity of chanting not well done, and, to close all, we could not hear the sermon. Mr. Digby, I think, was the preacher, and the text was recommending mercy, but beyond that I never caught a sentence. The Queen says when she is in church she likes to be serious, and to keep her mind on religious thoughts. She cannot hear, her mind will wander, so she reads a sermon, which she holds low out of sight. They generally have the Dean, and he is dreadfully mumbling.
'On a Sunday they only have a carriage or two for those who cannot walk. She never has her riding party, and often goes to the evening service; but she dedicated the time to us to show us her walks, flower-garden, a cottage that is building for her, her beautiful dairy, with a little neat country body like our Betty at the farm, and her labourers' cottages, whence out came the children running to her. One had a kind word, another a pat on the head.
'Then we saw the farmyard, pigs, cows, etc. Then she took us all over Frogmore Garden, which is extensive and very pretty, and then back by dairy and slopes. We were absolutely three hours, walking a good pace. We numbered about fourteen, but, with the usual thought, two carriages were at Frogmore to convey home the tired ones. Only two gave in. The day was very lovely, and her animation and spirits quite delightful. And this is our Queen—not an atom of pride or finery, yet dignified in the highest degree when necessary to be Majesty. God grant her peace and comfort may not be broke in upon!
'The King is ten years older since he wore the crown. Princess Augusta[*] assured us the Queen and themselves never name politics. They say he is so harassed with business they try to draw his mind to trifles—to the farm, the improvements, anything but State affairs. She added: "The Queen is like my good mother—never interferes or even gives any opinion. We may think, we must think, we do think, but we need not speak."
[*] H.R.H. was second daughter of H.M. George III.; born 1768, died 1840.
'Their Majesties are not seen till three o'clock. They breakfast and lunch in their private apartments. Then she comes out and arranges the morning excursions—all sorts of carriages and saddle-horses. She is a beautiful horse-woman, and rides about three hours, a good, merry pace. She sets forth with Maids of Honour and Ladies attendant, and generally returns surrounded by the gentlemen only, for it is understood she dispenses with their attendance the moment they get fatigued, and so they sneak off one by one. There are plenty of grooms to attend.
'Mrs. Clitherow got a quiet ride with my brother and the Duke of
Dorset, whom the Queen always asks to meet us, as she always met him
here in former times. Jane returned for the gentlemen to attend the
Queen, and Jane and I went a long drive about the park with the
Princess Augusta, who was most chatty and good-humoured.
'On Sunday between church and luncheon we were summoned to the Queen's own apartment to present to her a picture of Bushey House. We have a young friend who has made a very pretty picture of old Boston House, and the happy thought of getting Bushey struck my brother. The Queen is so fond of Bushey! She looked some time at it, then turned to Jane and said, "I shall value it. You know how I love dear Bushey; but I value more the kind thought of having it painted for me." Jane told her when she became Queen her happiest days were past, and she often reminds her of it. She perpetually asks her questions, and says, "You are so honest; you tell me true." She draws extremely well. She took a likeness one evening of one of her beauties, Miss Bagot, and when she was showing her portfolio everyone exclaimed it was so very like.
'Poor Mrs. Kennedy Erskine[*] was there. She lived in her own apartments. Mrs. Fox,[**] her sister, and Miss Wilson took it by turns to dine with her. She was only married four years, was doatingly fond of her husband, and is left with three children.[***] The King went every evening when he came from the dinner-room and sat half an hour with her. On his return to the drawing-room the Queen had taken her work and Jane Clitherow into the music-room, while I remained at her table with the Princess Augusta. The King came up. "Ah, my two Princesses Augusta, this is very comfortable; now to business.' She had the official boxes, pen and ink all ready. He unlocked a box and set to work signing, the Princess rubbing them on the blotting-book and returning them into their cases. He signed seventy. Three times he was obliged to stop and put his hand in hot water, he had the cramp so severe in his fingers. When he signed the last he exclaimed, "Thank God, 'tis done!" He looked at me and said: "My dear madame, when I began signing I had 48,000 signatures my poor brother should have signed. I did them all, but I made a determination never to lay my head on my pillow till I had signed everything I ought on the day, cost me what it might. It is cruel suffering, but, thank God! 'tis only cramp; my health never was better." The Queen was all attention, came and stood by him, but neither she nor the Princess said anything. When he is in pain he likes perfect quiet and to be left alone.
[*] The King's fourth daughter, Augusta, born 1803, married, first, 1827, Hon. John Kennedy Erskine—he died 1831; secondly, 1836, Lord Frederick Gordon.
[**] The King's second daughter, Mary; born 1798, married, 1824,
Colonel C. R. Fox, A.D.C. to the Queen.
[***] As her four children are subsequently mentioned, it may be noted that a posthumous child was born two or three months after this letter was written.
'On Monday morning all left the Castle, and the great square full of carriages being packed was most amusing. The Queen stood at the Window with us. There were three fours of the King's, and nineteen pair of post-horses, besides the out-riders, guard of honour, etc., etc.
'My paper makes me end, or I could go on till to-morrow. Adieu, my good friend! If I have amused you for a few minutes I am well repaid.
'My best remembrances to your trio.
'Yours truly, 'M. C.'
IN 1832 the cholera made its appearance in many parts of the country, and claimed many victims. At Brentford the people disputed hotly about it, some alleging it was not Asiatic cholera, fearing that the prevalence of that epidemic would be detrimental to the little trade of the town. At the parish meetings feeling ran so high that the disputants almost came to blows, and Colonel Clitherow 'never had so much difficulty in keeping them in decent order.'
In the autumn of the previous year Earl Howe[*] had been dismissed, at the request of Lord Grey, from the post of Chamberlain to the Queen. As this office had always been regarded as independent of the Ministry of the day, the incident attracted a good deal of attention at the time, and formed the subject of a question by Mr. Trevor in the House of Commons, to which the Chancellor of the Exchequer, Lord Althorp, returned a diplomatic reply. Yet, however unusual the action taken by the Government may have been, there can be little doubt that, considering the feeling of the country respecting reform, their decision was a wise one. Earl Howe had twice voted against the Reform Bill, and it might have been inferred that he had been influenced in this action by the Queen against the King's wish. His dismissal did not, apparently, prevent rumours to this effect becoming current, and the Queen and her friends were much annoyed at the imputations thus implied and expressed. That these somewhat natural inferences had no substantial foundation is made clear by a letter written from Boston House, April 11, 1832:
[*] Richard William Penn Curzon-Howe, second Viscount Curzon; born 1796, created Earl Howe 1821, his maternal grandfather, the celebrated Admiral, having previously borne that title.
'We are often annoyed at the unaccountable falsehoods put about of our dear Queen. The world now says she and the King are on such bad terms that she is going to Germany. My brother called on Lady Mary Taylour[*] (she is Princess Augusta's Lady of the Bedchamber), who said she had that morning read a letter from the Queen to the Princess, in which she said she had been very unwell, her anxiety was so great about the Princess Louise; her mother was ill, and her sister not coming, but, she added, "My comfort and consolation is the extreme kindness of the King. Nothing can exceed it.' This is from one you may believe. When we were at the Pavilion, early in December, she was too ill to come out of her room, but sent for Mrs. Clitherow after dinner, and she had a tête-à-tête with her for an hour. She spoke much of the insult to her of dismissing Lord Howe, but what hurt her most was her fear lest the King should be blamed, for she was sure he never would have done it could he have helped himself. I think now, if you hear the report, you may contradict it on sure grounds. I do believe her excellent and good.'
[*] Eldest daughter of the first Marquis of Headfort, born 1782.
Within a week or two after this, Colonel and Mrs. Clitherow again visited Windsor by the Royal commands, and Miss Clitherow, in her minute chronicle, shows that, while they cherished no pride of pomp or station, they fully appreciated the honour of the King's friendship:
'BOSTON HOUSE, 'May 13, 1832.
'Thank God the cholera does seem subsiding! And in what mercy has that scourge visited England compared to other countries! Yet, such is the fatal blindness of the multitude, they see none of God's mercies, and only provoke Him more and more by increasing wickedness. The downfall of our Church seems the first object. But you know as much as I know, and a truce with the subject.
'I will tell you of our Courtly doings, and how thankful we are that we just take the cream, free and independent, without rank or place—no troubles, turmoils, or jealousies. We receive the most flattering notice—and it can be from no other motive than liking us—a rare occurrence at Court, and of which we have a right to be proud.
'Lately a command came to my brother and Mrs. Clitherow to come to Windsor Castle on the Monday and stay till the Wednesday. There were no other visitors. Nobody breakfasts with the Queen or takes luncheon unless sent for. You have your breakfast in your own sitting-room, or at the general breakfast, as you prefer. We always take the latter, but this visit Jane was with her at every meal, the King the only gentleman admitted at breakfast, and only his sons, or very few, at luncheon. Each evening the Queen called Jane to her sofa and work-table, where, also, no one approaches but by her invitation, and on the Tuesday morning the King took my brother all round the Castle with Wyattville, giving orders and directions. I fear greatly the improving mania is coming upon His Majesty, which, in these times, will be very unfortunate.
'The Queen took my brother and Jane a long drive in her barouche.
'Now, in this kind of social visit you get at much of a person's mind and opinions. The Queen seemed to enjoy a freedom of speech with friends. Poor thing! how seldom can she feel that! She terms Jane her "friend who tells her true." I can safely say, in contradiction to the abominable reports circulated to her disadvantage, that she and the King are on the best terms possible. In all her conversation, her anxiety was on his account, lest he should get blamed. She has strong sense and good judgment. She said: "I must have my own opinion, but I do not talk to the King about it. It would only make him unhappy, and could do no good."
'After the drive she took them into her room, and clasped a bracelet round Jane's arm, begging her to wear it for her sake, and, as the stone was an amethyst, the A would remind her of Adelaide, and then she kissed her cheek. To my brother she presented a silver medallion of the King, telling him her name was on the back, and he must keep it for her sake. She always has something obliging and kind to say. She sent a ticket for her box at Drury Lane. It was "Admit Colonel and Mrs. Clitherow." Jane asked her if that meant two places. "No, no; the whole box, to be sure. It holds eight. But, when I name one of you, I cannot help naming both."
'King William IV. forgot little me when he sent his commands. On their going in he said: "Where is Miss Clitherow? I hope illness has not prevented her.' On an explanation, "Then next Monday meet us at dinner at Bushey, and bring your sister with you.' And we did meet them. The King came over with Wyattville to inspect Hampton Court Palace. The Queen followed, to dine with him at their dear Bushey. They returned to Windsor at ten, the Princess Augusta to town. Only Lady Falkland and Miss Wilson attended the Queen. The company were the inmates of Hampton Court, where we have never visited, and therefore to me the dinner was dull.'
At this time there was a grave political crisis through the action of the House of Lords respecting the Reform Bill. The Cabinet advised the King to create a batch of peers to form a Whig majority, as had been done by Harley in 1711. This, however, the King refused to do, and Lord Grey consequently resigned. The letters which passed between Lord Grey and the King at this time are of considerable interest, and show that the King exercised a greater influence and tact as a ruler than has generally been ascribed to him. The Duke of Wellington was summoned, but could not meet with sufficient support to accept office. Earl Grey, therefore, returned to power, and the deadlock was removed by the King persuading the Duke of Wellington and some of the peers who supported him to absent themselves from the division on the Reform Bill, and thus allow it to pass.[*] Miss Clitherow touches but lightly on this subject, but it seemed desirable to put the facts before the reader. Her letter proceeds:
[*] There are several letters on this subject towards the end of vol. ii. of 'The Correspondence of the Late Earl Grey with H.M. King William IV., and with Sir Hubert Taylor,' edited by his son, and published by John Murray in 1867. Anyone desiring to have a clear idea of the political anxieties which Miss Clitherow tells us harassed the King would do well to consult this interesting work.
'The Thursday after we went to see Lady Falkland, who is on a visit to papa King. We found her, her widowed sister Lady Augusta Kennedy, and Miss Wilson very comfortably at work. They were the two Fitz-Clarences; we saw a good deal of them when they lived at Bushey.
'A page soon came to conduct my brother to the King, another to desire we would take luncheon in the Queen's room. On entering the King called Jane by him, the Queen me; she rose up and shook hands with both. My brother went down to the general luncheon. Nothing could be more good-humoured and pleasant than they were. The King was cheerful but silent; 'twas the day after Lord Grey's resignation. The Queen certainly in particular good spirits; the King's firmness respecting the making no peers had delighted her. They went to his apartments, and we to Lady Falkland's, and were preparing to depart, when a message came. The Queen had not taken leave of us, and hoped we were in no hurry, but would stay and Walk with her. Of course we did. The party consisted of the Queen, Miss Eden (Maid of Honour), Miss Wilson, Lord Howe, Mr. Ashley, Mr. Hudson, Sir Andrew Barnard, and our three selves. She took us through the slopes to her Adelaide Cottage and her flower-garden to see Prince George of Cambridge at gymnastics, with half a dozen young nobility from Eton, who came once a week to play with him. We were walking nearly two hours. The Queen is very animated, and Mr. Ashley and Mr. Hudson full of fun and tricks, and amused us all much. In short, I have but one fear when with her—forgetting in Whose presence I am; her manner is so very kind, but there is dignity with it that keeps us in order.'
Before Miss Clitherow wrote again to her old friend, the Queen's little niece, Whose illness has been already alluded to, had passed away. Her Majesty was tenderly attached to the young Princess, and had shown her every possible attention during her illness. She was greatly grieved at her death, and the sorrow and anxiety seem to have affected her health for some little time.
'WINDSOR CASTLE, 'September 3, 1832.
'Here I am writing with Royal pens, ink, and paper, which last I dislike of all things, it being glazed.
'We have not seen our dear, amiable Queen since the Ascot week, and, poor thing! she has gone through a great deal, but her conduct through the whole was beautiful. Princess Augusta gave us the account of the closing scene, and with tears in her eyes described the feeling and resignation of the Queen, and the extreme kindness and attention of the King to all her little wishes at the time of the funeral, which, by all accounts, was the best managed and most affecting thing possible. She has very much recovered her spirits, which are naturally very cheerful, but she is still most miserably thin.
'The King is particularly well.
'The visitors here besides ourselves are the Duke and Duchess of Gloucester[*]—she is too unwell to appear—Prince George of Cambridge; the Duke of Dorset; Mademoiselle d'Esté; Sir Henry and Lady Wheatley, with two daughters; Lady Isabella Wemyss (Lady of the Bed-chamber), a most pleasing, lovely woman, sister to Lord Errol; Miss Johnson (Maid of Honour); Miss Wilson (Bed-chamber-woman); Mademoiselle Marienne, Lord and Lady Falkland, Sir Herbert and Lady Taylor, Sir Andrew Barnard, Sir Frederick Watson, Colonel Bowater, Mr. Hudson, Mr. Shifner, and Mr. Wood.[**] Princess Augusta and Lady Mary Taylour came every day from Frogmore, which, with the household medical man, Mr. Davis, makes a party of thirty, reckoned here a small party.
[*] H.R.H. was the King's cousin, and the Duchess was the King's fourth sister, Princess Mary.
[**] Many of these are obviously members of the household rather than visitors.
'The dinners are always princely, gold plate, quantities of wax-lights, and servants innumerable, yet very agreeable and with less of form than you could suppose possible.
'Yesterday threatened much rain, but after luncheon it cleared, and we started, four carriages, four in each and a number on horseback, and went to the Fishing Temple by the Virginia Water to see a model of a vessel to be moved by clockwork. After seeing it exhibited we all took boat, and in parties rowed about that beautiful lake. We had the six-oared boat and various little boats. Prince George and Mr. Hudson rowed Her Majesty about, and the whole had so much ease and good-humour it was very delightful.
'Our evenings are always the same, the band playing most beautifully, work-tables and cards for those who chuse.
'The first evening the Queen called us both to her table; the second she sat with the Duchess of Gloucester till her bedtime, so that we had not much of her company. She is always about some elegant work, which she does remarkably well, and has a great deal of cheerful conversation.
'This is our third day, and we leave on Monday. Our invitations say when we are to come and when to go, which is very agreeable. We have our time to ourselves in our own sitting-room from breakfast till luncheon at two.
'So I have scribbled to you, though no post goes till to-morrow. A trio of kind regards.
'Yours truly, 'M. CLITHEROW.'
THE following year found Colonel Clitherow's time greatly occupied with the treasurership of the Sons of the Clergy Corporation, and with a visitation of their estates in various parts of the country, which he found in such woeful condition that they would cost 'some thousands to repair and rebuild, or their ruin was certain.' This visitation, which took him and his party by slow stages as far as Yorkshire, probably accounts for our finding but one letter about the Court this year. It was written from Rise Park, the seat of their cousin, Mr. Bethell, M.P., on October 1, 1833. After an account of their journeys, and a description of Mr. Bethell's well-kept grounds, Miss Clitherow proceeds:
'Now, from the Fens I will take you to the Forest. The cottage where George IV. lived so much has been pulled down, except a banquetting room, the conservatory, and a few small rooms for the gardener. Here the preparations were made for a morning fête on the Queen's birthday [August 13], and, as a surprise to her, the magnificent Burmese tents, which she had never seen, were put up. I never saw anything prettier than the whole scene, and the day was lovely. The tents the most brilliant scarlet, ornamented with gold and silver, silver poles, and a silvered velvet carpet, embroidered with gold and silver. The hangings, sofas, and seats were all of Eastern splendour, and at the end was a large glass. The company was very select, and the morning dresses becoming and elegant. Two bands of music (Guards) played alternately. A guard of honour and numbers of officers were present. Everybody seemed gay and in their best fashion. The King and Queen, with about forty guests, dined in the room, about as many more in a long, canvas room. The tables had fruit, flowers, ornaments, confectionery, a few pyramids of cold tongue, ham, chicken, and raised pies. Then you had handed to you soups, fish, turtle, venison, and every sort of meat. Toasts were given, cannon fired, and both bands united in the appropriate national airs. Altogether it was a sort of enchantment. At seven fifteen of the King's carriages and many private carriages took the party to the Castle to dress for an evening assembly, where about two hundred were asked. We were the envy of many in being allowed to go home, having had the cream of the day. Nothing could be a greater compliment than our being asked in the morning. We were the only untitled people. The King had filled the Castle, Round Tower, and Cumberland Lodge, and had not a bed to offer. So he invited us, saying: "Come at three. We dine at four. And then go away at seven, and be home by daylight, for we cannot give you beds."
'To his own birthday [August 21] we had the general invitation for the evening, and the old trio went from Boston House at seven, and got back by two. The noble Castle, so lit up, was a magnificent sight. The Queen was quite the Queen, for it was very mixed society—too much so for Royal presence. The good-humoured King asks everybody, and it was a crowd! But she sat with the Royal Duchesses only, attended by her ladies, and she was dressed much finer than her usual style. She twice conversed with us, and when she left the room came up to us, shook each by the hand, and was so sorry we had to go home so far.
'My brother and Mrs. Clitherow called at Windsor to take leave before we left home for so many weeks, and after luncheon with her and the King, she took them into her own room to see a bust of the little niece that she nursed with such motherly affection, Princess Louise, and then gave them two prints of herself and two of Prince George of Cambridge, the best likeness I have seen of her. She said, "One for Miss Clitherow, the other for you two, because you are as one." All she does in such a gracious, pretty manner.'
In the winter the Clitherows spent three days at Brighton, dining each day at the Pavilion. The King was remarkably well, but the Queen unfortunately was confined to her room, and was only able to see Mrs. Clitherow on one evening. 'Then,' Miss Clitherow adds:
'She could really enjoy her society, which in the drawing-room is impossible. Grandees must come in your way. Lady Falkland only was with her, which made a trio.
'I hope you and your belongings are well, and, with our united, kind regards,
'Believe me, 'Sincerely yours, 'MARY CLITHEROW.'
OUR next glimpse of their Majesties is not from, but at Boston House. This unsought honour was rather deprecated, though thoroughly appreciated by their hosts, who, in spite of their intimacy with the King and Queen, never made any pretension to be more than simple gentlefolk. Colonel Clitherow was the first commoner whom William IV. so honoured, probably the only one, and instances of other monarchs doing the like must be few and far between. In this case, doubtless, both their Majesties regarded it as an act of simple friendship, and not in any way as one of condescension.
'BOSTON HOUSE, 'July 10, 1834.
'On June 28, 1884, their Majesties honoured old Boston House with their company to dinner. They came by Gunnersby and through our farm at our suggestion; it is so much more gentlemanly an approach than through Old Brentford.
'The people were collected in numbers and Dr. Morris's school, and they gave them a good cheer. We then let the boys through the garden into the orchard by the flower-garden, where my brother had given leave for the neighbours to be, and it seemed as if two hundred were collected.
'We had our haymakers the opposite side of the garden, and kept the people, hay-carts, etc., for effect, and it was cheerful and pretty. The weather was perfect, and the old place never looked better.
'They arrived at seven, and we sat down to dinner at half-past. During that half hour the Queen walked about the garden, even down to the bottom of the wood. The haymakers cheered her, and had a pail of beer, and when she came round to the house, instead of turning in she most good-humouredly walked on to the flower-garden, and stood five minutes chatting to the party, which gave the natives time to get her dress by heart. It was very simple—all white, little bonnet and feathers.
'The King had a slight touch of hay asthma, the Princess Augusta a slight cold, and therefore they declined going out, which separated the party, and was a great disappointment to the people. We had police about to keep order, the bells rang merrily, and all went well. We received them in our new-furnished library.
'When dinner was announced the King took Jane, my brother the Queen, and they sat on opposite sides, the Duchess of Northumberland[*] the other side of the King, Lord Prudhoe[**] the other side of the Queen, General Clitherow and General Sir Edward Kerrison top and bottom, and the rest as they chose—Princess Augusta, Lord and Lady Howe, Lady Brownlow,[***] Lady Clinton,[****] Lady Isabella Wemyss, Colonel Wemyss, Miss Clitherow, Miss Wynyard, Mrs. Bullock, and Mr. Holmes. That makes nineteen. The Duke of Cumberland[*****] was to have been the twentieth, but Mr. Holmes brought a very polite apology just as we were going in to dinner. The House of Lords detained him.
[*] Wife of Hugh, third Duke, and daughter of the first Earl Powis. She was governess to H.R.H. the Princess Victoria, our late gracious Queen.
[**] Algernon Percy, second surviving son of the second Duke of
Northumberland, F.R.S., and Captain R.N.; born 1792. Created Baron
Prudhoe 1816. On the death of his brother he succeeded to the dukedom,
which, on his death in 1865, passed to his cousin, the second Earl of
Beverley.
[***] Emma Sophia, daughter of the second Earl of Mount Edgecumbe; born 1791, married, 1828, the first Earl Brownlow. She was Lady of the Bedchamber to Queen Adelaide.
[****] Widow of the seventeenth Baron Clinton, Lady of the Bedchamber to Queen Adelaide. In 1835 she married Sir Horace Beauchamp Seymour, K.C.H.
[*****] He became King of Hanover on the death of William IV.
'As to the dinner, it was so perfect that it was impossible to know a single thing on the table, and that, you know, must be termed a proper dinner for such a party. My brother gave a carte blanche to Sir Edward Kerrison's Englishman cook, and, to give him his due, he gave us as elegant a dinner as ever I saw. Our waiting was particularly well done—so quiet, no in and out of the room. Everything was brought to the door, and there were sideboards all round the room, with everything laid out to prevent clatter of knives, forks, and plates. Etiquette allows the lady's own footman in livery, and we had ten out of livery, the King and Queen's pages, seven gentlemen borrowed of our friends, and our own butler. They all continued waiting till the ladies left the room.
'We were well lit, wax on the table and lamps on the sideboards, and many a face I saw taking a peep in at the windows. The room was cool, for the Queen asked to have the top sashes down.
'The King was not in his usual spirits. He said had it been the day before he must have sent his excuses. The Queen was all animation, and the rest of the party most chatty and agreeable. The King bowed to the Queen when the ladies were to move.
'Our evening was short, as they went at half-past ten. The Princess played on the piano, and my brother and Mrs. Bullock sang one of Ariole's duets at the Queen's request. When they went the sweep was full of people to see them go, and their Majesties were cheered out of the grounds.
'We had with us our little nephew Salkeld,[*] whom my brother puts to Dr. Morris's school. He came in to dessert, a day the child can never forget. The King asked him many questions, which he answered distinctly, with a profound bow, and then backed away. He looked so pretty, for the awe of Royalty brought all the colour to his cheeks. I felt rather proud of him, he did it so gracefully. The Queen told him she hoped he would make as good a man as his excellent uncle. After dinner the Princess Augusta called him to her in the drawing-room, saying, "I like that little fellow's countenance; he is quite a Clitherow." She talked to him of cricket, football, and hockey, telling him when she was a little girl she played at all these games with her brother, and played cricket particularly well.
[*] He became a hero in the Indian Mutiny, losing his life in volunteering to blow up the Cashmere Gate at Delhi in 1857.
'That we are proud of this day we cordially own, for my brother is the first commoner their Majesties have so honoured; but we feel we ought not to have done it. When Jane, with her honesty, told the Queen we were not in a situation to receive such an honour, her answer was: "Mrs. Clitherow, you are making me speeches. If it is wrong I take the blame, but I was determined to dine once again at Boston House with you.'
'The absurd conjecture of people at the expence of the day to my brother induces me to tell you what it actually was, as we should be ashamed at the sum guessed at. I have made the closest calculation I possibly can, which includes fees to borrowed servants, ringers, police, carriage of things from and to London, and I have got to £44. Never was less wine drank at a dinner, and that I cannot estimate, but £6, I think, must cover that. We had two men cooks, for he brought his friend, and we got all they asked for. Really, I think we were let off very well at £50.
'And now a word of our delights at the Abbey. The good Bishop of Landaff, Copleston, gave us six reserve tickets, and we bought three. Mrs. Bullock, Jane, and myself went twice, my brother three times, and we all four went to the first rehearsal. We did enjoy it most thoroughly!
'I delight in the thought of you surrounded by your family party, and wish I could peep in. Remember us most kindly to them.
'Ever yours affectionately, 'MARY CLITHEROW.'
'BOSTON HOUSE, 'August 28 [1834],
WE have been absent a week visiting different friends, and on our return this morning took a Royal luncheon at the Castle. Our dear Queen received us most kindly, and we sat with her for half an hour before luncheon. Her conversation was most interesting. I wish I could give it you word for word. It showed such a feeling, religious, good mind. It was about her loss in one whom she termed a faithful servant, indeed a friend—old Barton (only sixty-four, but he had a paralytic stroke two years since, which had aged him very much), her treasurer. He was their factotum at Bushey. The painful part of it, she said, was feeling that she in a manner had been the cause; for the good old man was so over-excited with joy at witnessing the enthusiastic reception she met with on her return, he went out to meet her. The fatigue and excitement were too much for him, and, after he got home, he had a stroke. He lost all power of speech, but retained his senses, and, by pointing to letters, made himself understood, and a dutiful and affectionate message to the King and Queen was written and sent. The dear Queen immediately wrote to him herself a letter, which was beautiful, so kind, so pious. He answered his hour was come, and he was resigned. Now, had you heard the manner in which she, in her pretty English, described all this, you never would have forgotten it.
'I never saw her or the King look better. He had all his daughters with him but Lady Mary Fox, who is abroad, and a swarm of grandchildren running about the corridor, and Her Majesty playing with them, and making them all happy and at ease.'
From the above we clearly see that Queen Adelaide had the power of feeling and inspiring sympathy with dependents as well as friends, with young as well as old. The following month the Clitherows again stayed at the Castle in quite homely fashion.
'WINDSOR CASTLE, 'September 27, 1834.
'There is no company but ourselves and the Duke of Dorset; consequently, we really enjoy the Queen. We set at her work-table in the evening with the King, Princess Augusta, and the Duke of Dorset, and really the cheerful, good-humoured conversation that goes on is most agreeable. The Ladies-in-Waiting have two work-tables. The gentlemen sit and chat with them, and there are generally four at whist, the Queen's beautiful band playing in the anteroom.
'We came on Thursday. Friday we were on Virginia Water, with the Guards' band playing in a barge moored. The weather was actual summer, and we were rowed about for two hours—the King, Queen, and ten of us.
'To-day the Queen, Lady Isabella Wemyss, Mrs. Clitherow, and myself in a barouche, my brother, with Miss Hope Jolynson, in a phaeton, drove out for two hours in Windsor Park and Forest. The evening was lovely, though we had heavy rain in the night and morning. The scenery is quite magnificent, and the dear Queen's conversation was so interesting, giving an account of her journey and adventures abroad. It was a drive to be envied.
'We do not think the Queen looking well, though it is uncourtly to say so. She is most miserably thin, and has a sad, wearing cough. However, she assures us she is better. The oppression on her chest is removed by a German medicine, which she has great faith in. I dread Brighton for her, which never agrees.
'The King is uncommonly well. He is out all the morning inspecting his farms, which they say he is getting into beautiful order, and to-day he returned to them after luncheon, instead of driving out with the party, as he generally does.
'Lady Augusta Kennedy and her four children are here. Lady Sophia Sydney[*] and her three children live here. Sir Philip is backwards and forwards. He is going on slowly at Penshurst, feeling, I suspect, that it will be time eno' to live there should anything happen to prevent their all living on "papa." Lady Augusta has a house at Isleworth near us, which "papa" gave her, but lives a great deal here. Lady Falkland is sadly out of health, and in town for advice. Her fine boy is left here, and the King and Queen have all the children in the corridor after luncheon to run about. It is so pretty to hear them lisp, "Dear Queeny," "Dear King." She plays with them with such good-humour.
[*] The King's eldest daughter; born 1800, married, 1825, Sir Philip Sidney, who was created Lord de Lisle and Dudley in 1835, his father having in 1824 claimed that barony, though without success.
'Mademoiselle d'Esté is here. Lord Hill is coming to-day. We are to leave on Monday.'
The next letter reminds us that, about this time, there were several political crises, more or less acute. The tide of enthusiasm, which had carried many measures of social importance, was beginning to abate, and the first signs of the reaction that was setting in showed themselves in differences among the Ministers. Mr. Stanley (afterwards Lord Derby), Sir J. Graham, and two others disagreed with Lord Grey as to the Act to compensate the Irish clergy, while Lord Althorp opposed Lord Grey on the question of coercion in Ireland. Lord Grey, who was an old man, retired in July, and Lord Melbourne succeeded to his place. These dissensions led the King to believe that there was a Conservative reaction, so he determined to dismiss the Ministry and send for the Duke of Wellington. In the end, on the Duke's advice, Sir Robert Peel became Premier, but only held office till April, 1835, when Lord Melbourne was recalled to power. Again rumour was busy with the Queen's name, and many suspected that the dismissal of the Whigs was due largely to her influence. The following letter deals plainly with this, and incidentally mentions the constitutional practice of the King respecting even the Court appointments:
'BOSTON HOUSE, 'November 23, 1834.
'How do you feel on the sudden change in the political world? I rejoice, but cannot envy the party who have taken the reins in these ungovernable times.
'It is very sad they will not let the dear Queen alone. I believe from my heart she has no more to do with it than you or I. Mrs. Clitherow sat half an hour with her at St. James's, and she, who, is truth itself, declared the first she knew of it was the King coming to her room and telling her the Duke of Wellington was to dine with them, for there was going to be a change of Ministers.
'She has not named a single person for any appointment, and will not, she is determined. Jane expressed her hope that the Duke of Dorset would again be Master of the Horse. The Queen replied: "There never was a better; but, in the present state of the country, favouritism must be quite out of the question." They must select the most influential men in a political point of view. She regretted extremely that the King's children, instead of rallying round the throne, were the first to send in their resignations and to show such strong opposition to their father's wishes. And we do hear from every quarter their conduct is abominable, and the manner in which they speak of the Queen unpardonable. Lord Erroll[*] went on so bad in a public coffee-room that a gentleman cried out: "Shame! shame!" As far as we have ever seen, she has shown them nothing but kindness, and their return is ingratitude. Poor soul! her cough continues to wear her sadly, and she is hardly stout enough to contend with all her annoyances, notwithstanding the support of a clear conscience.
[*] William George, the Seventeenth Earl, had married Lady Elizabeth
Fitz-Clarence, the King's third daughter, and was Master of the Royal
Buckhounds.
'The Bishop of London and Mrs. and Miss Blomfield dine here to-morrow.
I mean to get this franked.
'I hope you are not annoyed with your winter cough, and that your family are all well. Accept a trio of best wishes, and believe me,
'Yours sincerely, 'MARY CLITHEROW.'
'BOSTON HOUSE, 'July 13 [1835].
'WE were invited on Saturday to dine at Kew with their Majesties. It was quite a social party, no company but ourselves and the Landgravine; the rest were the ladies in attendance, the household, and the King's family. We mustered thirty at dinner. They came down early in the day to thoroughly enjoy the country. They walked about till luncheon; then the Queen had her horse to ride, and little carriages, and they all went to Richmond Park, and returned to dress for seven o'clock dinner. They both seemed remarkably well. I had not been seen by the King for a long time, and when I went in he expressed himself most glad to see me quite well, and at dinner drank wine with me.
'When we went in to dinner, the Queen said: "Mrs. Clitherow, you must sit by Lord Howe." The fact was she was expecting her sister to land Sunday morning, and would have been at the water-side to receive her, but she felt she ought to go to church with the King. Lord Howe told her certainly; she could drive and meet her sister after church. Still, her wish was to go to Deptford early, and she wanted somebody to second that wish. She bid Lord Howe ask Mrs. Clitherow—"She will say honest." The Queen is so quick, she discovered when they were conversing on the subject, though they were at the very bottom of the table, and addressed Mrs. Clitherow, "Are you for me, or against me?" "I must agree with Lord Howe," was her answer. Now, I suppose there are few women but my Jane who would not have advised according to the Queen's wishes, and I am certain it is her honesty, so unlike a courtier, that makes the Queen so partial to her. After dinner she called Mrs. Clitherow to sit by her, and they conversed together the whole evening. Her ideas and right way of thinking are quite delightful.
'I had a very amusing evening, for the good-humoured Landgravine called me to her, and was full of fun and chat. She has a sweet countenance, but her figure is extraordinary. "My dear," she said, "Augusta charged me to tell you a charade—
'"Three shakes and a grin, Shake your tail and you're in."
She was in such a hurry to tell me I had not time to find it out; but you may take your time, I shan't tell you. She laughed so hearty. She seems to enjoy herself most exceedingly in her native land, and must be in excellent health to go about as she does. Yet her figure looks as if she was dropsical. She cannot stand long, and walks with difficulty; at the Drawing Room she sits.
'The whole party left Kew for London at ten.
'We have been wondrous gay at both the fêtes at Syon House. As to the first fête, I think it was the most perfect thing of the kind that possibly could be. We were invited to a breakfast at three o'clock to meet their Majesties, and we went according to orders; but the breakfast proved a good dinner at seven. The day was lovely, the company of the very first order, and the dresses most elegant morning costume.
'The King did not come; he was overfatigued at the Waterloo dinner. The Queen came at five. She and the Duchess of Northumberland led the way to the famous conservatory, and all the party followed. I believe it is reckoned the finest in Europe. The flower-garden, filled with all the smart and the pretty, was really a sight of sights. There were chairs and benches innumerable on the lawn, the Blues band of music, and people amused themselves till dinner was announced. It was certainly the most elegant party I ever was in, for the whole 524 guests followed each other into the tent as quiet and orderly as into the dinner-room at Windsor. The dinner was sumptuous. Three turkeys were drest, and eight men cooks employed. A seat for everyone, a napkin, three china plates, three silver forks, knife, and spoon. The waiters had only to remove your plate. And such quantities of waiters! yet so quiet, no bustle or clatter. We all came out of the tent together, when the house was lit up, and you went in or staid out as you pleased. The great drawing-room for tea and coffee, tables each side. And so the time passed till it was dark enough for the fireworks, which were most magnificent.
'The Queen was then ushered into the tent, which, like magic, had been prepared for dancing. A very good floor, as clean as if no soul had dined in the room. The tables were laid round the room on the floor to make a platform to raise the sitters to look at the dancing. There were two tiers of benches, so that really the room seemed hardly full. There was a noble space for the dancers 180 feet long. Weippert's beautiful band. I quite longed to dance. It was lit the whole length by large handsome glass lanthorns, and round the tent was a broad border of growing flowers and coloured lamps in festoons. Nothing could be prettier. They had waltzes, quadrilles, gallopade, and reels. The Queen went at eleven, and everybody was gone by one. Refreshments of all sorts were provided at each end of the tent.
'The second fête rather failed, as the day it was to have been held was so wet it was obliged to be put off; and then Royalty had gone to Windsor, and thought it too far to come. Numbers also were engaged. We were only asked in the evening, but everything was in as good style as the first, only a different style of company. The fireworks equally good, and the dancing, but the night was cold.
'The papers will have told you of my brother's success in Queen Adelaide's Fund. It is most particularly gratifying to him. Ever since the lunatic asylum was finished he has been wishing to establish this fund, and was brought about by the Queen signifying to him that she wished to subscribe to the lunatic asylum, about which he interested himself so much. He told her it was a county asylum, not supported by subscriptions, and then named this plan, which she eagerly acceded to, and gave £100 and her name as patroness. He has got near £700, and does not mean to be satisfied till he has £1,000, and as much more as he can. I must conclude, as the man has called. Lucky for you.
'Your affectionate friend, 'M. C.'
The fund mentioned at the close of this letter was founded to assist patients at the Hancock Asylum on their discharge, and is still in existence. As this was due to Colonel Clitherow's initiation, it may be well to mention here that another trace of his influence also remains in the system of employing patients in occupations with which they were previously acquainted, which was established during his chairmanship, with very successful results.
AFTER a short illness, William IV. died at Windsor Castle on June 20, 1837. On July 17 Miss Clitherow wrote as follows:
'Thank you very much for writing to me. I always enjoy your letters, and delight to hear from you. I feel I did not deserve it, so much time has elapsed since I wrote to you. But I dislike writing when the spirits are below par, and how could they be otherwise with the afflicting event which has befallen the country? Great were our apprehensions for the dear Queen when she was so ill and could attend none of the State entertainments, but the King's death never entered our ideas. On June 3 my brother went by command to Windsor. He sat with the King while he ate his early dinner. He was cheerful and chatty, and had only sent for him for the pleasure of seeing and conversing freely with him, which he did for above an hour, and the last thing his Majesty said was, "Thank you for coming; it always does me good to see you, and very soon you and Mrs. Clitherow must come to Windsor for a few days and your sister.' How little he thought his days were numbered, and that he should never see him more! He then appeared so little ill my brother returned home quite in spirits, and on the twentieth he was dead—only seventeen days.
'Since the Queen Dowager got to Bushey Lady Gore has written to us. The description of her resigned pious mind is beautiful, and Lady Gore[*] assures us she really hopes her health has not materially suffered from all she has gone through, particularly the last sad ceremony.
[*] Wife of General Hon. Sir Charles Gore, G.C.B., K.H., third son of the second Earl of Arran, a Waterloo officer.
'My brother was deputed to present the address of condolence from the magistrates to the Dowager Queen. He dreaded it, but he wrote to Lord Howe to know how and when, and was answered—Queen Adelaide receives no addresses; but those she received on the throne from the City, etc., those she must receive. We are delighted at this, as it was too much to impose upon her. Addresses are pouring in from all quarters, and Lord Howe is to receive them.'
As Queen Adelaide received no visitors, except such as she could not refuse, in her widowhood, the King's death closed her intimate intercourse with the Clitherows. It seems, however, just to the memory of both the King and Queen to insert the following testimony to her tender affection for her husband, and her delicacy of feeling respecting his previous relations with Mrs. Jordan.
'BOSTON HOUSE, 'September 23, 1837.
'I dare say you look to me for some true account of our dear Queen Adelaide. We have not seen her, but have been much gratified by her recollection of us. She sent a most kind message by Mr. Wood, with the little book he wrote at her command of William IV.'s last days—a copy to my brother and one to me.
'Very lately we began to doubt whether we ought not to go to Bushey as we used to visit her Majesty at Windsor, and Mrs. Clitherow wrote to consult Lady Denbigh. She acted most kindly to us, for she waited an opportunity of showing the note to the Queen. Her Majesty's answer was, it would be a 'real comfort to her to see Mrs. Clitherow, but it would open the door to so many; she could not without giving great offence. Lady Denbigh added Her Majesty had received no one yet, except those whom she was obliged to admit.
'Mrs. Clitherow dined in company with Miss Hudson, one of the Dowager's Maids of Honour, whom we know very well. She gave a delightful account of the dear Queen, her mind so peaceful, always occupied, much interested with her sister and her children, constantly doing charitable acts, and for ever talking of the King, and hoping she had thoroughly done her duty. Miss Hudson was in waiting for five weeks, and the first three she was very uneasy about Her Majesty's health, and thought her sadly altered; but the last two her cough had almost entirely ceased, and she had slept remarkably well.
'You have no doubt seen the book I allude to, for 'tis now to be had for sixpence. Could anything be so extraordinary as the conduct of the Bishop of Worcester? Her Majesty sent him a copy, and he sent it to the editor of a newspaper. When the Queen read it in a public paper she was very indignant, and the gentleman who was told by her to discover who "the high dignitary in the Church" was, told us Carr, Bishop of Worcester. The man who has been quite the Court Bishop should have known better.
'One act of the Queen Dowager I must tell you: the Queen sent a message by Colonel Wood and Sir Henry Wheatley requesting she would take anything she chose from the Castle; she selected two—a favourite cup of the King's, in which she had given him everything during his last illness, and the picture from his own room of all his family. It was a singular picture, all the Fitz-Clarences grouped, and in the room Mrs. Jordan hanging a picture on the wall, the King's bust on a pedestal, and all strikingly like. I think it shows a delicacy of feeling to her King which was beautiful. It was a picture better out of sight for his memory. Now, this you may believe, for Colonel Wood told us. He transacted the business, and Queen Adelaide has the picture.
'Believe me, 'Yours very truly, 'MARY CLITHEROW.'
Neither Queen Adelaide nor the three friends long survived the kindly monarch they loved so well. Colonel Clitherow died in 1841; his sister, who became totally blind, early in 1847; and his true and honest wife, the last of the Boston House trio, died in March of the same year.
TO the letters already given, which cover the seven years of William IV.'s reign, it seems appropriate to add two public utterances on the occasion of his death. The cuttings containing them are pasted in a MS. book belonging to Miss Clitherow's correspondent, himself a writer of repute,[*] and are preceded by the following notes:
[*] The Rev. Edward Nares, D.D., Rector of Biddenden, Kent, and Regius
Professor of Modern History in the University of Oxford.
'No King ever departed this life with less of blame attached to him as a King, or with more credit as a well-meaning, good-natured, high-minded man. No King ever more truly acted upon the noble principles of Louis XII. in forgiving, as King, all offences committed against him while Duke of Orleans. When the Duke of Wellington was the Minister of George IV., he saw fit, with a view to retrenchment in the public interest of unnecessary expenditure, to remove H.R.H. the Duke of Clarence from the office of Lord High Admiral. When H.R.H. succeeded to the Crown, not only was this not resented, but nothing could exceed the attentions the Duke of Wellington was in the way of receiving from His Majesty on all anniversaries of the Battle of Waterloo. He constantly honoured the Duke with his company at dinner, and lamented the necessity of being absent on June 18, 1837, only two days before he died.
'This striking instance of a greatness of mind highly becoming a King of Great Britain was alluded to by the Duke of Wellington in the House of Peers on the first day of their meeting after the King's demise. There is extant in print what I believe to be a very authentic relation of the magnanimity with which His Majesty, as King, forgave a bold attack upon him as Duke of Clarence in his presence in the House of Lords by the present Chief Justice of England, Lord Denman. I allude to a memorable speech of the latter at the Queen's trial in 1820.
'Praises and commendations of Kings and Queens are so liable to the suspicion of flattery that it cannot but be pleasant to a mind constitutionally loyal to be able to produce testimony to that effect of indisputable authority. In the course of a speech at the nomination of candidates for North Lancashire, Lord Stanley, not long since a member of a Whig Cabinet, said: "The country had just lost a Sovereign whose virtues and transcendent attributes had earned for him an immortal name. Those who knew least of His late Majesty did not hesitate to ascribe to him an ever anxious delight in being kind and affectionate to his people, attached to their wishes, and determined to administer to their comforts. He thought little of himself when promoting the happiness of those around him. Those who had ever an opportunity of coming into immediate contact with the late Sovereign could justly appreciate his excellent qualities. His attention to business, his candour of manner in listening to the arguments of his advisers, manifested a full knowledge of his constitutional duties. He (Lord Stanley) had witnessed how His late Majesty had declined asserting his prerogative when it in the slightest degree seemed to interfere with public officers in the discharge of their public duties. In the discharge of his duties as a Minister of the Crown it had happened on three occasions that His Majesty had felt a deep interest in the appointment of three individuals to office, and it did so happen that he could not meet the private wishes of the Sovereign in making those appointments, and he intimated to His Majesty the public grounds on which he would rather they were not made. His Majesty immediately with pleasure declined pressing his own views, which, he said, were secondary compared with the public business of the country."'
This eulogium is confirmed by several passages in Miss Clitherow's letters. The next extract is prefaced in her correspondent's MS. as follows:
'Of the King's last moments nobody had a better account to give than the Archbishop of Canterbury, who was with him, and who had it in his power to bear undeniable testimony to the affectionate and unwearying attentions of the Queen to the very last. Before His Majesty's funeral I had this confirmed to me by the Archbishop himself, who also told me that he had already seen the young Queen preside in three Councils with singular propriety, dignity, and decorum, adding much in praise of the good education she had received.'
Extract from the speech of the Archbishop (Howley) of Canterbury at a meeting of the Metropolitan Churches' Fund:
'I attended on our late Sovereign during the last few days of his life, and, truly, it was an edifying sight to witness the patience with which he endured sufferings the most oppressive, his thankfulness to the Almighty for any alleviations under his most painful disorder, his sense of every attention paid to him, the absence of all expressions of impatience, his anxiety to discharge every public duty to the utmost of his power, his attention to every paper that was brought to him, the serious state of his mind, and the devotion manifested in his religious duties preparatory to his departure for that happy world where we may humbly hope he has now been called. Three different times was I summoned to his presence the day before his dissolution. He received the sacrament first; on my second summons I read the Church Service to him, and the third time I appeared the oppression under which he laboured prevented him from joining outwardly, though he appeared sensible of the consolation I offered him. For three weeks prior to the dissolution the Queen had sat by his bedside, performing for him every office which a sick man could require, and depriving herself of all rest and refection. She underwent labours which I thought no ordinary woman could endure. No language can do justice to her meekness and to the calmness of mind which she sought to keep up before the King while sorrow was preying on her heart. Such constancy of affection, I think, was one of the most interesting spectacles that could be presented to a mind desirous of being satisfied with the sight of human excellence.'
William IV.—a good husband, a good father, a good King, a good friend—was indeed a happy contrast to the selfish, if more gifted, brother who preceded him on the throne. He was an eminently constitutional monarch, popular and patriotic. His reign was short, and, though not free from riot and disturbance, was mainly characterized by peace, retrenchment, and reform. Its social legislation included the Reform Bill, the abolition of slavery, the Factory Acts, the New Poor Law, and the Tithe Commutation Act, while the modest grant of £20,000 per annum was the first recognition by the State of its duty respecting the education of the people. At the same time, the Empire was expanding, the colony of South Australia was established, and its capital bore the name of the King's devoted and sympathetic consort.
Thus the first steps were taken in many important movements for the welfare of the people and the Empire, which, under his great and good successor, were supported and developed, and the way was made plain for the young Queen, to whom the nation looked with such well-founded hope, whose long and glorious reign has been so abundantly blest, and whose memory will ever be cherished with honour and respect.