CHAPTER XV.
FESTIVITIES AT CARLTON HOUSE—COMPLAINTS AND ACCUSATIONS—LETTER TO LADY LIVERPOOL—VISIT TO SANDHURST—ARRIVAL OF THE PRINCE OF ORANGE—A SUITOR FOR THE PRINCESS CHARLOTTE—ROYAL MATCH-MAKING—LETTER TO THE PRINCESS CHARLOTTE.
On the 6th of July we were at the magnificent breakfast given at Carlton Gardens, followed by a ball. The news of the battle of Vittoria added splendour to the fête, and the letter[[144]] of the Prince to Lord Wellington, with the marshal’s staff which he was to send him, and that taken from the enemy, were the lions of the day. It was a fine day, and the gardens really looked very gay, but Princess Charlotte had just before, on the 1st of the month, lost poor Mrs. Gagarin,[[145]] and was deeply affected by her loss. She might be said to have known no other mother; and her fortitude as well as tenderness, on this occasion, showed itself in every possible way, to the great honour of her heart and head. Mrs. Wightman arrived too late to see her mother alive. Princess Charlotte saw her after her death; it was the first corpse she had seen; she took with her into the room an intimate friend of the deceased, and to her, and to all who were attached to Mrs. Gagarin, she was invariably affectionate and beneficent. She was very low for a long time afterwards, though she endeavoured to suppress and conceal her feelings.
We continued to visit Sanders, as the time approached for going into the country; and Princess Charlotte was anxious that the picture should be finished. We also took long airings before and after dinner, and everything that could divert her thoughts from the loss she had sustained was, I thought, necessary to be done, and her life was so monotonous, that any other young person must have felt it excessively dull.
About this time, the middle of July, her Royal Highness being really by no means well, wrote a letter to her father, to request that she might be allowed to go to the sea-side which was recommended by Sir Henry Halford, and which all the medical people said she ought to visit every year till she was five-and-twenty, as she had been accustomed to do till she went to Windsor in 1812. She sent for Mr. Adam, Miss Mercer’s uncle, and the Prince’s chancellor,[[146]] on this business. The request was not granted; the Prince was much displeased, and said that she was quite well. He also sent Sir Henry to me, to complain of our having been seen driving twice one day on the Chiswick road, when the Duke of Devonshire was giving a great breakfast there. I said the fault was mine, as I had proposed to drive that way that Princess Charlotte might see the carriages; that her life had so little variety in it, and her health and spirits were at that time so indifferent, that I was anxious to do anything that could cheer her. The Prince scarcely called once in two months, and she saw none of her family except at the Carlton House parties.
Another heavy complaint was our going to the painter’s. I agreed that it would have been better if he could have painted at Warwick House, but the light would not have suited him for a large picture, and I desired Sir Henry to assure the Prince how scrupulously careful Mr. Sanders was as to quiet and privacy, insomuch that he would not let in his friend and patroness Lady Charlotte Campbell, and I added that the picture was for the Prince, as Lady Liverpool well knew, for she had discovered that such a picture was painting, had been to see it, and we had told her its destination. In the midst of all this sudden fit of ill humour we were ordered to Windsor, and arrived there on the 31st, to the great displeasure of Princess Charlotte.
The next day, 1st August, her Royal Highness and the Duchess of Leeds dined at the Castle, and the Duchess came home to me crying at night, having been severely reprimanded by the Queen and Prince Regent for her own conduct and mine. The stories of the Duke of Devonshire, with exaggerated circumstances, were called up, and, as far as I could understand from the Duchess’s mutilated account, I was more blamed than herself. As I found there was no possibility of my justifying myself with the Prince, and still less with the Queen, I was so shocked that I really became quite ill, and I wrote the following letter to Lady Liverpool, in which I defended both Princess Charlotte and myself:
Lower Lodge, Windsor, August 3, 1813.
My dear Lady Liverpool,—I am convinced no apology is necessary for the trouble I am about to give you, when I consider the length of time in which I have had the honour of being known to you, the respect I entertain for the memory of your respected mother, whose good opinion of me when I was young, and you were a child, was always particularly flattering to me, and, more than all, the good sense and delicacy of principle for which you are distinguished.
I confess I have been extremely hurt since my arrival at Windsor, on finding that my conduct with respect to Princess Charlotte has been blamed by her Majesty and the Prince Regent. I have had no opportunity of justifying myself with the latter, as he left this place without seeing me; and with the former I can have no explanation, as her Majesty does not speak to me, and has declared she will have no further communication with me since I left her service for that of her grand-daughter. It is needless to recapitulate why I did so, how much I was urged to it, or what promises of support were made me. I must, however, confess that I made no conditions, except that I could not be a spy on Princess Charlotte; and I will only say that I have had no other support than the great good sense, the excellent disposition, and affectionate heart of this young Princess, who, providentially, being a very superior creature to what girls of seventeen generally are, has not taken advantage of the circumstances in which I was placed, but has acted in such a manner as to convince me I was perfectly right when I said that reliance might safely be placed on her honour and nobleness of temper, and that the only control under which she could properly act was that of confidence and affection.
As to myself, the various and often very difficult trials I have had to encounter through life, have, I trust, made known to my friends that I have always at least wished to act with propriety, and it is certainly not now that I should begin to adopt an opposite plan of conduct. What false reports, or exaggerated statements may, from idleness or envy, have been carried to the Prince Regent, or to the Queen, I know not, and therefore do not condemn them for what they said; but this I can solemnly declare, that since I have had the honour of belonging to Princess Charlotte, I have seen no impropriety of conduct which could have justified a complaint on my part, and that had I seen any, such was my confidence in her candour and condescending kindness to me, and such was my strong sense of duty, that I should undoubtedly have made proper, though respectful, representations to her Royal Highness on the subject; but, deprived as she is of those domestic comforts and amusements which girls of her age in a less elevated station enjoy, and which even the Princesses her aunts have always enjoyed with their Royal parents, I must have had a heart of a very strange composition if, amidst all her privations (and some of them it is to be remembered of the most trying nature), I could have contradicted her for trifles innocent in themselves, and by so doing have lost that confidence which could alone give me a shadow of authority over her actions and proceedings.
I have for the last six months given up all visits to my friends, all avocations connected with my duty at Warwick House, and, in short, everything that could deprive me of the power of saying that I had done my duty, and that I could answer for the conduct of Princess Charlotte at every hour and moment of the day and night.
You will not think this an intrusion on your time, my dear Lady Liverpool. The subject is in itself of sufficient importance; and the temperate conduct of Lord Liverpool, as well as the moral propriety and domestic happiness which secure to you both the esteem of the public, are so many reasons for making me desirous of standing well in your opinions, that I cannot deny myself the satisfaction of explaining what I feared might be misinterpreted to his lordship and to you.
Believe me, &c.
Lady Liverpool wrote a courteous answer, but which, in one respect, was unsatisfactory, as it implied that my justification depended on Princess Charlotte’s conduct, whereas I endeavoured to prove that the want of support I had experienced, contrary to all promises made me, rendered it not only difficult, but even impossible, to be of any other use than what Princess Charlotte’s confidence and good nature might allow. I showed her my letter before I sent it, and afterwards the answer.[[147]]
Miss Mercer came about this time to stay two or three days at Windsor, on a visit to Princess Charlotte; but not having leave to sleep in the house, I got a room for her at Mrs. Hallam’s, who was absent. She was evidently annoyed at my having written to Lady Liverpool, her friend Lady Bathurst and Lady L. being dear friends and great enemies—at least, according to Miss Mercer’s representations; and perhaps it was really the case, but I felt I had done right, and I told Princess Charlotte there was no dependence to be placed on any of these people, hinting to her that most probably their only reason for paying court to Miss Mercer was to make her useful, and that everybody said the consent for her Royal Highness seeing Miss Mercer again had only been given to detach her from the Princess of Wales. Of course Princess Charlotte repeated this to Miss Mercer, and the effect it had was to make that young lady particularly attentive to me. She wrote to me after her departure in the most confidential and flattering manner, particularly explaining a circumstance in which it appeared that the Princess of Wales had acted very imprudently with respect to Princess Charlotte, and in which she (Miss M.) interposed in the properest manner. I was pleased with this, and from that time Miss Mercer and I were on the best terms, and, as I thought, in common with her Royal Highness, treated every subject in the most confidential manner.
The Prince Regent’s birthday, 12th August, was kept at the new Military College at Sandhurst, where the Queen was to present new colours to the Cadet Battalion. All the Royal Family, the ministers and their wives, and a few others, were present. The Bishop of Salisbury had previously consecrated the chapel, and Sir Alexander Hope,[[148]] whose heart seemed quite devoted to this interesting colony, was all attention and propriety. His sister, the Dowager Lady Melville, lately appointed one of the Ladies of the Bedchamber to the Queen, assisted Lady Hope in doing the honours; as did the sister of the latter, Lady Hampden. The Prince did not speak to Princess Charlotte, the Duchess, or me, but looked as if he wished to annihilate us. However, the day in other respects passed very well, and the establishment was highly deserving of praise. The Royal Family dined in the house, the rest of the company under tents in the garden, and in the evening there was a little dance of five or six couples, promoted by the Duke of Clarence. The day had been remarkably hot, and the evening was a beautiful moonlight. When the Queen was about to depart, the Prince Regent was not to be found, and we afterwards learned that he, with the Duke of York, Prince of Orange (the father),[[149]] and many others, were under the table. The Duke of York hurt his head very seriously against a wine cellaret. In short, it was a sad business. We went home very quietly in an open carriage by the lovely moonlight.
On the 16th, the Duke of York’s birthday, arrived the hereditary Prince of Orange with the account of a great victory gained by Lord Wellington over the French army, commanded by Soult. A large party dined that day at Frogmore, of whom I was one, and we expected to see the hereditary Prince, but the Regent did not bring him. The Regent was in no better humour than on the 12th, but Lord Yarmouth paid great court to the Princess Charlotte, to the Duchess, and to me. The Prince Regent would not come to see the Princess Charlotte at the Lower Lodge, and gave, as an excuse, that he could not bear to see those d—— ladies, meaning the Duchess and myself—so, at least, we were told. Had I been the Duchess I think I should have resigned; but perhaps not, as I thought this species of conduct, without any real ground, was possibly meant to force us to this step by making our lives disagreeable. I told Sir H. Halford so, and he asserted the contrary.
Soon afterwards, we had an invitation to dine at Lord Liverpool’s, at Coombe Wood, to meet the Queen and Princesses. Lady Liverpool sent the invitation to the Duchess, and next morning I received a private letter from her, mentioning the company we were to meet, and particularly all the young ladies, who, she hoped, might be pleasant society for Princess Charlotte, recommending to my notice a young person, a relation of hers, whose timidity would require support. The Oranges were not mentioned, neither was it said at the Castle that they were to be there; but Princess Charlotte had private information to that effect, and, I believe, it was to have been so. On which account her Royal Highness availed herself of the excuse of not being well, put on a blister a day sooner than she had intended, and did not go.
I was sorry for this, because, if it was a trick, it was one easily foiled by dignity of conduct; and I was more sorry for her Royal Highness’s going very soon after to the Egham races, though she was not well enough to do more than sit in her carriage. Her mind was worried, she had a pain in her side, and her health always suffered from the climate and water of Windsor, as well as the constant worry.
Sir H. Halford was at this time continually at the lodge, a great favourite of the Duchess, and constantly charged with messages from the Castle. One of his affairs there was to negotiate a marriage between the Duke of Brunswick and Princess Mary, of which it was to be understood the latter knew nothing. Poor Princess Charlotte was most willing to do all she could to persuade her uncle[[150]] to this step, but it would not do, and, I dare say, was never forgiven by the Prince, if he knew it; which most probably he did. For neither Princess Mary nor Sir H. Halford would have ventured without being sure of his approbation, and the subsequent conduct of the Prince Regent to the Duke manifestly proved his displeasure. Hints were given with great caution of wishes in favour of the Prince of Orange, but Princess Charlotte had shown so great a dislike to that business, that nothing was said openly.
At last, in consequence of a confidential conversation between Princess Charlotte and Princess Mary, I found the latter had warmly recommended marriage to the former, and next evening there was a long interview with Sir Henry; after which Princess Charlotte told me she had brought him round with respect to one person. I could not guess whom she meant, but thought it might be the Duke of Kent. She said, “No, it was the Duke of Gloucester;” and in the evening she told me that they all wanted her to marry, and that she saw they wished for the hereditary Prince of Orange, but that she would never marry him,[[151]] and had told Sir Henry that the Duke of Gloucester was the most eligible person, and the one she would prefer.
I felt rather hurt that she should have committed herself in this manner, more particularly as I was sure she had no partiality whatever for the Duke; but I answered that it certainly was a marriage which in the eye of reason could not be disapproved, but that I was convinced neither the Regent nor any of the family would hear of it, the Duke’s politics being a sufficient bar, added to the want of birth on his mother’s side. Besides, I could not help reminding her of the difference of age, and, I added, I never saw anything to make me believe she liked him. Princess Charlotte answered that all this was perfectly true, but that she could never expect to marry from inclination, and that the Duke’s character and temper were so good that she might reasonably look forward to being treated with kindness, and to see her husband esteemed by the nation.
In all this I heartily concurred, but still I felt exceedingly surprised at her having started it so suddenly, and augured nothing good from the proceeding. I expressed my astonishment to Sir Henry, and, at the same time, my total ignorance of the measure until it had taken place. When Sir Henry returned next time from town, he said that the Prince had taken it more calmly than he had expected, and that he would come very soon to Windsor and talk it over with Princess Charlotte, but that he could not give hope that the result would be favourable. I begged only that the Prince would see his daughter at the Lower Lodge, as she always felt hurt at being only sent for to the Castle for the purpose of seeing him in her aunt’s room.
The Prince came, and to the Lower Lodge. Princess Charlotte was desirous that I should see him first, and I met him on the stairs. He at first looked displeased, but I entered into an explanation with him on the former grievances, and cleared up the falsehoods. I heard what he chose to say on the present subject with proper respect, and he became very good-humoured towards me; but when Princess Charlotte came in, although he did not raise his voice, and said he would be very calm and very affectionate, he was certainly as bitter as possible on the Duke of Gloucester, and not a little so to Princess Charlotte. He positively refused giving his consent to this union, but added, what I thought most important, that so far from ever wishing to control her inclinations, he would not even urge her to comply with any proposals by recommendatory means. He said he was himself too severe a sufferer to wish any other person, and especially a child of his own, to know the misery of an ill-assorted marriage; that he would invite over many of the Princes of the Continent (for that a subject of England she could not marry), and she might then have her choice; that with respect to the hereditary Prince of Orange, whom she seemed to apprehend being forced on her, he would not bring him to Frogmore on the Duke of York’s birthday, that she might not think he meant to recommend him (he took occasion, however, to praise him several times during this visit); and he ended by saying that her happiness and her honour were the wishes nearest to his heart.
When he took leave of her, and remained with me, he expressed great displeasure, and hinted a suspicion of her doing all this as a blind, and of her being attached to the Duke of Devonshire. I defended her on that point, but said that I regretted her having proposed the marriage with the Duke of Gloucester in the manner she had done, and that I wished to prevent her having such long conferences with Sir Henry, farther than medical advice might render them necessary, as I was mindful of his Royal Highness’s injunction of not leaving her alone with gentlemen; an injunction which my own sense of propriety rendered unnecessary. The Prince said that Sir Henry was the friend of the family, and that he had not the slightest objection to her being left alone with him; on the contrary, he had often sent messages by him.
I could never discover who had advised Princess Charlotte to this step, but I am convinced it was brought on by Princess Mary and Sir Henry urging the necessity of her marrying. I was very uneasy about it, but I wished to impress on her mind that she had so far gained a great point in having the Prince’s promise that he would never force her inclinations, and that she could always refer to this promise in case of necessity. But the fact was, they were using every means to bring about a marriage with the Prince of Orange, without choosing to appear in it, or to give her the merit of consenting from a feeling of duty. Underhand means of all sorts were put in practice, and Lady Anne Smith and her daughters, while staying at Oatlands, came over to make a visit, and warmly advocated the cause.
About this time her Royal Highness, by the advice of Miss Mercer, with whom she constantly communicated, entered into another correspondence, which promised great utility. Politics were not concerned in it, and nothing could be more correct than the advice given with respect to her filial duty, as well as other points of her conduct. To this friend she communicated what had passed with her father, and the advice was, if possible, to comply with his wishes with regard to the Prince of Orange, but if resolved to marry the Duke of Gloucester, to wait patiently until the age of twenty-one, when more efficacious measures might be pursued. This adviser professed himself the friend of the Duke, but certainly was fair and impartial in the manner in which he wrote.
As she was to be eighteen on her next birthday, she was very anxious about the establishment which she doubted not then to obtain, and as it evidently appeared to me, from her conversation, that she had been advised to have none but people of high rank about her, and young people, I thought it necessary to write her the following letter, which I gave into her own hand, expressing my wish to leave her entirely at liberty with respect to myself.
MISS KNIGHT TO THE PRINCESS CHARLOTTE.
My dearest Madam,—There is a subject on which I have for some time wished to speak to your Royal Highness, but finding that my feelings will not allow me to mention it without being completely overcome, I think it best to trouble you with a few lines of explanation, as I am sensible it is not right to defer it longer.
The time for your Royal Highness having a new establishment is rapidly approaching, and I know your way of thinking is not only so just and honourable, but also so kind and considerate, that you may perhaps feel embarrassed with respect to me. I therefore wish that you should consider yourself perfectly at liberty.
It is needless to repeat what passed when I entered into the service of your Royal Highness. Had I not been assured that it was your particular desire, I should not have yielded to the Prince’s entreaties. I thought I saw a noble disposition misunderstood, great talents unperceived or discouraged, and strong feelings so harassed as to be rendered dangerous to their possessor. I flattered myself that I might at least be a negative comfort, and by perhaps soothing, certainly not tormenting, give scope for the display of those amiable and exalted qualities which vexation and contradiction might tarnish. Thus far I trust I may have succeeded; and I shall therefore retire in some measure satisfied with what I have done, and with the most ardent and fervent prayers for the happiness of my ever-dear Royal mistress. I am no longer young; my spirits have been broken by the vicissitudes and sorrows of a life of disappointments. I have no connexions, and few friends left who can promote the interests of your Royal Highness, or give support to me in the slippery path which I have already found so difficult to tread. It is therefore perhaps better, both for your Royal Highness and myself, that I should retire, even if you wished me to remain, and also that, when I retire, I should withdraw myself entirely. The pang will be dreadful when I am obliged to leave you; for the romance of my life has been attachment, and I feel for your Royal Highness an interest of which, after various afflictions I had experienced, I no longer thought myself capable; that interest I shall still feel, but it will occasion me less pain at a distance than were I to see you only now and then, after having passed so many months constantly in your society.
I trust I need not add that every confidential communication with which you have been pleased to honour me shall be sacred, and that the very few friends with whom I shall associate for the remainder of my life will hear nothing from me but expressions of gratitude for your goodness.
I shall also for ever feel grateful to the Prince for having placed me with you; but should he (from a recollection of the promise he made Lord Moira never to give me up) urge you to retain me in your service, I beg you will not think yourself under any necessity to comply with his request. I may be proud, but I do not think that I am either interested or ambitious. I will stay while I can be of any the slightest service to your Royal Highness, but I will never be a burden to you, or prevent you from filling a place about you more worthily.
I trust your Royal Highness will not consider what I have said as a liberty. I feel it as an urgent though a very painful duty, and must therefore risk the consequences. That every blessing may attend you, will be to my latest hour the prayer of,
My dearest madam,
Your Royal Highness’s
Most dutiful and most devoted servant,
Ellis Cornelia Knight.
Lower Lodge, Windsor, Oct. 27, 1813.
I was much overcome, and ill for two days after writing this letter, which I believe hurt her; but she said nothing to me on the subject, and we went on as usual at Windsor, never so comfortable as in town, but no disputes. We had Vacari there and Vitalba (the drawing-master). I persuaded her to invite the Queen and Princesses, with their own society, to some music, and it succeeded very well.