CHAPTER II.
MARRIAGE OF CAROLINE MATILDA.
THE YOUTH OF CAROLINE MATILDA--MEMOIRS OF AN UNFORTUNATE QUEEN--EDUCATION OF THE PRINCESS--SPECIMENS OF HER CORRESPONDENCE--PROPOSAL OF MARRIAGE--CAROLINE MATILDA'S FEELINGS--THE ROYAL ASSENT--DEATH OF THE KING OF DENMARK--PUBLIC OPINION--THE MARRIAGE PORTION--THE MARRIAGE--FAREWELL TO ENGLAND--LANDING IN DENMARK--ENTHUSIASTIC RECEPTION.
It is not possible to give any detailed account of the youth of Caroline Matilda, for young princesses are not brought much into evidence. Any one, for instance, who desired to trace the life of the Princess Helena from her birth to the present day, would necessarily be but a small-beer chronicler; how much more is this true in the case of Caroline Matilda; for George III., through a mistaken feeling of brotherly piety, destroyed every scrap of paper that bore her handwriting. Hence, I will not weary my readers by dull quotations from the newspapers as to the appearances in public of the princess, but leave them to the pleasing belief that the first fifteen years of her life glided placidly away.
Of the results of her mother's careful training, we fortunately possess fuller evidence, in an unpretending work called "Memoirs of an Unfortunate Queen." The authenticity of this book has been contested, because it was published anonymously;[16] but after careful examination and comparison, I am disposed to accept it in evidence. The details connected with the palace revolution, reveal an intimate knowledge of the facts, which only a constant attendant on the Queen could possess. At first, I was inclined to believe that my grandfather was the author, but I find no proof to that effect among his papers. That the book should be published anonymously, adds, in this instance, to its authenticity. George III. had a horror of the facts connected with his sister being published, and would have visited with his severest displeasure any courtier guilty of such an offence. Hence, though the author thought it his duty to vindicate the honour of a beloved mistress, he did not consider that her cause would be served by a self-sacrifice.
From her tenderest years, Caroline Matilda displayed the most endearing vivaciousness, and a sweetness of temper that could not fail to engage the affections of her attendants. When she attained the age of discernment, her heart and her mind became susceptible of the most generous sentiments. Her person was graceful; her manners elegant; her voice sweet and melodious, and her countenance most prepossessing. The author of "Northern Courts," no friend of the Queen generally, cannot refrain from expressing his admiration of her beauty when he first saw her. "Her complexion was uncommonly fine; she might, without flattery, have been termed the fairest of the fair. Her hair was very light flaxen, almost as white as silver, and of luxurious growth; her eyes were light blue, clear, large and expressive; her lips, particularly the under lip, full and pouting; her teeth white and regular." Her disposition was most amiable; and several indigent families at Kew, where this charming princess was not so much restrained by the etiquette of a Court as in London, often experienced her beneficence and liberality, and frequently obtained considerable relief from her privy purse.
Her education was a remarkable one for the times: she spoke German, French, and Italian, fluently; and her knowledge of English literature was very extensive. Her diction was pure, and her elocution graceful. She could, with facility, repeat the most admired passages of our dramatic poets; and often rehearsed, with great judgment and propriety, whole scenes of Shakespeare's most admired plays. She performed on the pianoforte, and had a marked taste for music. She also danced very gracefully.
Such innocence, beauty and grace, made a marked impression on the English; and indeed the whole of the king's brothers and sisters were popular. Mr. Wraxall, of Bristol, writing to his son in 1775, to condole with him on the death of his royal mistress, may be regarded as expressing the general opinion, when he says: "I have the most lively sense of what the queen was only a few months before her marriage, when her majesticness of person and the apparent courtesy of her address, made very favourable impressions on me; and I can fully acquiesce, notwithstanding an obscurity in history, that on her own account she was truly amiable and much worthy to be lamented." We find in this passage a sympathy with the misfortunes of Caroline Matilda, and regret for her premature death, tempered by a doubt as to her purity, which was aroused, as we shall see hereafter, by her brother's ill-judged reticence on her behalf.
As a proof of the pretty, easy style of the princess's correspondence, room must be made here for four of her letters which have been preserved, and which are written in the happy confidence of childhood. The dates are not given, but they are evidently anterior to the report of her marriage.
_To Lady B---- M----._
DEAR B----,
Since you left Richmond, I have much improved my little copyhold in Kew Gardens, and made a great proficiency in the knowledge of exotics. I miss often your company, not only for your pretty chat, but for your approbation in my hortulan embellishments. This, you will say, is selfishness and vanity to the highest degree. Are we not all feeble mortals,--a compound of both? You know we have but a narrow circle of amusements, that we can sometimes vary but never enlarge. How long do you intend to plague me by your absence? It is ungenerous, as I cannot come to you. I wish often the title of Royal Highness should lie dormant, to jaunt with you like a pert _cit_. I expect, when I see you, to have a faithful account of all your summer's excursions, and to conclude precisely, _Dieu vous ait dans sa sainte garde_!
Your faithful friend, CAROLINE.
To Lady C---- F----.
MADAME,
J'ai commencé un cours de belles lettres en François, à la portée d'une personne qui veut passer pour avoir de la lecture, sans avoir la manie d'être savante. Les ouvrages qui j'ai choisi, sont ceux de Voltaire, Crébillon le fils, Marivaux et Fontenelle, qui selon moi ont tous un mérite original dans leur genre. Enough of French. As I find more instruction and more entertainment in your agreeable conversation than in the writings of conceited authors,--who censure, reason, moralise, or advance facts and opinions, without answering the doubts and objections of their readers,--I beg you will indulge me with this pleasure and satisfaction as often as you conveniently can. I am not philosopher enough to give up the society of my friends for books; and, indeed, my sex and my age are entitled to some prating. May I have the talent, like you, to tell _de jolis riens_, and to speak with sense and knowledge, without appearing scientific, is the sincere wish of
Your affectionate CAROLINE.
_To Lady S---- S----._
MY DEAR S----,
Since you have made the petit tour, I expect you will give me a faithful account of all the high and mighty minheers, fraws and altesses, by whom you have been entertained in Holland and Germany. Like all travellers, you are entitled to a grain of allowance. I believe, like most of our countrymen, you think, after all, our country is the best to live in; or, as a Frenchman says: _ces bonnes gens aiment leur pays_. I hope you have received some declaration of love, uttered with the Germanic sincerity; and that you have not betrayed, _à l'Anglois_, some ennui at the courts of their royal and serene highnesses of Orange and Brunswick. By-the-by, these princes are not sorry that their consorts add to their pompous titles that of Royal, which, as it is given them jointly and severally, will, upon failure of love, summon pride against a divorce. Let me know when you intend to pay me a friendly visit, as I dispense you heartily with the etiquette of courts. I believe you have no doubt of my veracity, when I subscribe myself
Your faithful friend, CAROLINE.
_To H.R.H. Augusta, Princess of Brunswick._
MADAM AND SISTER,
I am happy to hear that you are safely arrived at Brunswick, and that the compliments of the nobility and gentry of the duchy, on your auspicious marriage, &c., are now at an end. It is really a hard task to receive graciously a crowd of people you never saw, were you ever so fatigued or indisposed. I shall not ask you to impart to me the observations you have made in your travels, as the European princesses, who are obliged to live in perpetual exile for the sake of a husband, are not even indulged to stop when and where they please, to satisfy their curiosity, when sent upon a matrimonial errand. Pray let me know how you like your operas and ridottos. I have nothing to tell you. What may be expected in a court is only to diversify _l'ennui_. All the august family are well. I beg to be remembered to his Serene Highness; and that you will do me the favour to believe, that neither absence nor distance will ever cause the least alteration in my sisterly love.
Your most affectionate CAROLINE.
* * * * *
Towards the close of 1764, the Danish ministry opened negotiations to obtain for Prince Christian the hand of his cousin, Caroline Matilda. In his speech from the throne, on January 10, 1765, George III. informed the nation:
"I have now the satisfaction to inform you that I have agreed with my good brother, the King of Denmark, to cement the union which has long subsisted between the two crowns by the marriage of the Prince Royal of Denmark with my sister the Princess Caroline Matilda, which is to be solemnized as soon as their respective ages will admit."
To which his Majesty's faithful Commons replied, that the alliance was most pleasing to them, as it must tend to cement and strengthen the ancient alliance between the crowns of Great Britain and Denmark, and _thereby add security to the Protestant religion_.[17] The announcement of the marriage was soon followed by the public appearance of the princess at court, as we find that on January 18 she opened the ball given at St. James's in honour of her Majesty's birthday, with the Duke of York.
It does not appear that the princess entertained any pleasing sensations about the alliance she was about to form. She was probably too young to have any personal feelings as regarded her bridegroom elect, and doubtless the sorrow she experienced arose from the thought of the entire separation from her family. The ladies in attendance on her observed that, after this alliance was declared, she became pensive, reserved, and disquieted, though always gracious, without taking upon herself more state, or requiring more homage from the persons admitted into her presence. A conversation with one of her relations throws some light on the nature of her feelings. As she had never been farther from the metropolis than Windsor, before she went abroad to be "sacrificed on the altar of inauspicious Hymen," she said once to her aunt, the Princess Amelia, previous to the departure of the latter for Bath, "I wish most heartily that I could obtain permission to accompany you, as nothing would give me more pleasure and satisfaction than to travel in my native country: but this indulgence I cannot expect, since princesses of the blood royal, like cockneys, seldom go beyond the bills of mortality." To which her Royal Highness replied, "I should think myself very happy were this exception to be made in my favour: but I dare say it will not be long before you see more of England, and some foreign country into the bargain." "I guess what you mean," replied the Princess Caroline, "but perhaps it would be more happy for me to remain as I am, than to go so far for a prince I never saw. To be or not to be? that is the question." The same feeling, though in more guarded language, is expressed in the following letter:--
_To H.R.H. the Princess Mary of Hesse Cassel._
MADAM AND GOOD AUNT,
I give your Royal Highness my most sincere thanks for your congratulation upon my approaching marriage: but really I do not know whether we are not rather objects of pity than envy, when we are politically matched with princes whom we never saw, and may not, perhaps, find in us those charms which, if even real, are too often eclipsed by the beauties of a court set off with national partiality. I am sensible of the honour his Majesty of Denmark has done me, by singling me out from among so many amiable princesses, perhaps more worthy of his choice, but my youth and inexperience make me apprehensive of not fitting the highest station of a kingdom according to the expectations of subjects, who seldom think themselves obliged to us for the little good we do, and always impute to us part of their grievances. However, as my scruples will not in the least avail, I shall do my best to please the king and to conciliate the affections of his subjects. I am glad that this alliance is an additional affinity to your Royal Highness, of whom I am
The loving niece, CAROLINE.
* * * * *
The death of Frederick V. of Denmark and accession of Christian VII. on January 14, 1766, offered no impediment to the marriage; on the contrary, it appears as if it were solemnized, in consequence, earlier than had been originally intended. The general opinion of the British public was favourable to the marriage, which was preceded by one between a sister of Christian VII. and the prince royal of Sweden. The double marriage appeared to cement the Protestant interest, and thus counterpoise the close union of the House of Bourbon. Moreover, it was hoped that the French influence, which had so long prevailed at Copenhagen, would be abolished in favour of the Anglo-Prussian system, and--to quote the words of the "Annual Register"--"it is not to be doubted, but the amiable princess whom his Danish Majesty is about to espouse, will contribute greatly to increase these good dispositions, as well as the harmony and friendship which still subsists between our court and nation and those of Denmark."
On June 3, 1766, a message from the crown was delivered to the House, asking a portion for the Princess Caroline upon her marriage with the King of Denmark. Dyson, in opposition to the ministers, offered a precedent against taking the message into consideration, except in committee or the next day,--a strange disrespect, unless it had been concerted with the king. This occasioned a long debate, in which Conway greatly distinguished himself by his spirit and abilities; and Dyson's motion was rejected by 118 to 35. Next came a message for a settlement on the princess. Augustus Hervey proposed to amend the address, and to promise to take it into immediate consideration. This, too, was outvoted; and Charles Townshend spoke finely on the occasion with great encomiums on the Duke of Grafton and Conway.[18] The portion actually voted was £100,000.
At half-past seven in the evening of Oct. 1, 1766, H.R.H. Caroline Matilda was married at the Chapel Royal of St. James. H.R.H. the Duke of York was proxy for the King of Denmark, and the ceremony was performed by his Grace the Archbishop of Canterbury. Next morning, at a quarter past six, her Majesty set out from Carlton House for Harwich, accompanied by H.R.H. the Duke of Gloucester, the Honourable Lady Mary Boothby, and Count von Bothmar, her Majesty's Vice-Chamberlain and late Danish Envoy in England, in a train of three coaches, escorted by parties of light horse, horse grenadiers, and life-guards, and a numerous train of domestics and attendants. The parting between the Queen of Denmark and H.R.H. the Princess of Wales was extremely tender; the young queen was observed on getting into her coach to shed tears, which greatly affected the populace assembled in Pall Mall to witness her departure.
Her Majesty arrived at Harwich at a quarter to four on the 2nd October, where Admiral Keppel was awaiting her with the royal yacht. During the whole journey from London she was seen to be buried in deep thought, and to gaze frequently and sadly at a talisman given her by her affectionate mother--it was a ring, with the inscription "Bring me happiness." Could she have had a foreboding of the fearful fate that awaited her at Copenhagen? Nature, too, appeared to oppose her departure, for the wind blew so heavily that it was not thought advisable for the queen to embark that night. She lay at the house of Mr. Davis, collector of customs, and spent the evening in writing the following letter to her favourite brother, the Duke of York:--
SIR AND DEAR BROTHER,
I have just time enough to write you these few lines from England. If patriotism consists in the love of our country, what I feel now at the sight of that element which, in a few hours, shall convey me far from this happy land, gives me a just claim to that virtue. Perhaps you men, who boast of more fortitude, call this sensibility weakness, as you would be ashamed to play the woman on such an occasion; but, in wishing you all the temporal felicity this life can afford, I confess all the philosophy I am mistress of cannot hinder me from concluding, with tears in my eyes,
Sir, and dear brother, Your most affectionate sister, CAROLINE.
* * * * *
On the next morning, October 3, her Majesty embarked at half-past eleven, and her sobbing heart found at least some relief and comfort in a flood of tears. Of this circumstance an eye-witness remarks: "The tears of her Majesty, on parting from the dear country in which she drew her first breath, might have inspired in those who beheld them gloomy forebodings as to the issue of the voyage she was about to undertake." In another account we read how the queen was dressed in bloom colour with white flowers. Wherever she passed, the earnest wishes of the people were for her health, and praying to God to preserve her from the perils of the sea. A gentle melancholy at times seemed to affect her on account of leaving her family and the place of her birth; but, upon the whole, she carried an air of serenity and majesty which exceedingly moved every one that beheld her. As Mrs. Gillespie Smyth justly remarks,[19] "how irresistibly do these details of the contemporary chronicler, in the quaint language of the times--the bloom-coloured dress and so on, suggest to those acquainted with the sad sequel the idea of an unconscious victim proceeding to her doom!"
The very sea seemed reluctant to surrender its lovely burden, for it was not till the 9th, a little before nine o'clock in the morning, that the queen safely landed at Rotterdam. Thence she set out for Utrecht, in the Prince of Orange's yacht. The Prince of Orange, the Prince and Princesses of Nassau Weilburg, and Prince Louis of Brunswick, received her Majesty on her landing, and conducted her to the apartments in the Admiralty House, which the magistrates of Rotterdam had fixed upon as the most convenient for her Majesty to arrive at, and where she was pleased to accept the compliments of the regency of that city. The Princess of Weilburg accompanied the queen through the town to her yacht, amidst the acclamations of the people, where the Prince of Orange again received her Majesty, and took leave.
Her Majesty travelled _viâ_ Osnabrück, Lingen, and Utrecht to Harburg, and, on October 18, reached Altona, where she was welcomed by the viceroy of the duchies, Baron von Dehn, in the name of her consort. The joy with which she was received was almost indescribable. The bridge prepared for her royal reception was covered with scarlet cloth, on one side of which were ranged the ladies, and on the other the men, and at the end were two rows of young women, dressed in white, who strewed flowers before her Majesty as she approached. "The illuminations were inconceivable," the chronicler, lost for language, concludes. On the 22nd she set out for Copenhagen with Baron von Dehn.
In England the marriage was accompanied by the usual loyal addresses, which require no special comment, except in the case of that presented by the city of London, in which Mr. Recorder alludes to the auspicious marriage with that great "potentate" the King of Denmark, which leads to the notion that Englishmen must either have had a very poor opinion of their own country, or else could afford to be generous when referring to that tight little kingdom of Denmark. Another remarkable fact for the verse-writing century is, that I do not find a single epithalamium or flourish of poetical trumpets in honour of the marriage. Even loyal Mr. Whitehead, who earned his sack most honestly, and neglected no opportunity to give his Pegasus a canter, found no inspiration in the royal marriage.
At this point in Caroline Matilda's life I will leave her for a while, in order to introduce the reader to the other principal actors in the strange eventful drama of her life. We have seen how she was transported at once from the bosom of a happy private family to the morally aid physically frozen regions of the north. Born after the early and sudden demise of her father, this posthumous pledge of conjugal affection must have grown closely to the widowed mother's heart, while at the same time we can fully understand how genial must have been the atmosphere in which the natural talents and acquired accomplishments of the youngest of a large and happy family were previously developed. She left her home without the slightest acquaintance with the external world, "as unprepared to encounter its stern realities as some tender exotic, from her favourite summer abode at Kew, would have been to meet the blasts of the climate to which she was transplanted."[20]
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 16: Baron von Seckendorf, writing to Mr. W. N. Wraxall, in 1776, remarks: "On m'a aussi parlé dernièrement d'une brochure qui vient de parôitre à Londres au sujet de notre chère et respectable maîtresse qui a pour titre, '_Memoirs of an Unfortunate Queen_;' quoique l'authenticité de ces lettres est incontestablement fausse, je serois pourtant bien aise de les posséder." How on earth could the Baron be certain of the falsehood of a book which he had not seen?]
[Footnote 17: "Annual Register, 1765."]
[Footnote 18: Walpole's "Memoirs of Reign of George III.," vol. ii. pp. 330-31.]
[Footnote 19: "Memoirs and Correspondence of Sir R. Murray Keith," vol. i. p. 163. A book which contains a great deal of thrashed out straw, and is remarkable for the art by which every interesting or satisfactory document has been left out.]
[Footnote 20: "Memoirs of Sir R. M. Keith," vol. i. p. 165.]