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."