Chapter X: An Appreciation of William IV. and His Reign (2)

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'Este 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.'

VIII

DINNER AT KEW--FETES AT SYON HOUSE--QUEEN ADELAIDE'S FUND

'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 fetes at Syon House. As to the first fete, 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 fete 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 L100 and her name as patroness. He has got near L700, and does not mean to be satisfied till he has L1,000, 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.

IX

DEATH OF THE KING

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.

X

AN APPRECIATION OF KING WILLIAM IV. AND HIS REIGN

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 L20,000 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.

GOD SAVE THE KING!

THE END

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