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