Part 10

“_February 14._--This has been a happy chance which fixed my night at the House of Commons for his speech. Lady Stanley was in the next division. I found myself nearly upon Lady John Russell’s lap--with Lady Palmerston and some other wives near; funny, we began talking, though before unacquainted, and I told her my husband was to answer hers, which news she received with the greatest interest. She said her heart was beating, and she was all attention when Lord John began. He spoke for an hour and a half with eloquence and cleverness, but he made one slip, which William made much of in a speech which lasted two hours. It was quite pain to me before he got up, but before he had said many words, there was something at once so spirited, so collected, in his manner that all fright was lost in intense interest and delight. Pride is not perhaps the right feeling; great thankfulness was, however, mixed up with it. We heard him very well; he was rapid, and without the smallest hesitation throughout. Peel was evidently much delighted, and from all I gather this speech has made a very great sensation. We had coffee in our room--how snug I need hardly describe, indeed I could not.

“_March 2._--Went to Lady Peel’s. I was struck by Sir Robert’s cordiality for William’s sake, and never had more satisfactory things said of him than from Mrs. Dawson, Peel’s sister. A very popular party with all kinds. M.P.’s wives make obeisance to Lady Peel, which was fun to watch.”

In view of the philanthropic work Mrs. Gladstone was to do later, the following entry is of interest:

“_March 3._--Lord de Tabley drove me in his cabriolet to the Mendicity Society, where we spent a long time. Most interesting to hear the examination of the numberless cases of poverty, and to see the quickness and the knowledge of the interrogators. I could have wished to see less asperity and suspicion in their manner. Alas! that such glaring and constant imposition should cause this, as I believe that a certain degree of severity is necessary. Out of thirty cases only one, in all likelihood, will turn out true.

“_March 19._--Dined with Lord and Lady Stanley. Lady Stanley very nice and looking better than I have seen her. After dinner Lord Stanley came and sat by me and was particularly agreeable. I found I lost my awe of him, he was so easy and pleasant. The conversation took the turn of an official life, and he questioned me about William. He said that he had the chief brunt of the work now. Lord Stanley has cold chicken and weak wine and water late at night, and is very apt to sit, while eating it, with his feet in hot water, specially if excited or after speaking. Then he takes a suitable novel for half an hour, which composes him to sleep. When Chief Secretary for Ireland, he worked eighteen hours a day. He maintains that with mental work there is no need for bodily exercise, which accordingly he never takes now. He prides himself upon twenty years’ experience. This may be all very well, but the truth is his health is particularly good. He went off afterwards on the various tricks in speaking. He took off Peel, who, he says, is very nervous at times. He could not remember any trick of William’s. He was full of interesting anecdotes. A few days ago at Peel’s some one was placed by the Duke of Wellington, who gave an elaborate account of things relating to India. The Duke sat in his armchair, his chin upon his chest, listening with occasional grunts. The man having gone on--on, the Duke suddenly came out in the quietest manner with, ‘I’ve been in India.’ Stanley told it very well.”

Mrs. Gladstone was present at the Queen’s fancy dress ball at Buckingham Palace on 12th May. She went as Claude, wife of Francis I. of France, and wore a deep red petticoat opening in front, large sleeves of gold tissue and a crimson cap. She found the ball a striking and amusing sight.

At a dinner-party at Lord Ripon’s in July, Peel took Mrs. Gladstone in to dinner. She was glad of this because it enabled her to thank him for the letter[62] he had written to her father-in-law about Gladstone. In it Peel said: “At no time in the annals of Parliament has there been exhibited a more admirable combination of ability, extensive knowledge, temper, and discretion. Your feelings must be gratified in the highest degree by the success which has naturally and justly followed his intellectual exertions, and that the capacity to make such exertions is combined in his case with such purity of heart and integrity of spirit.”

Mrs. Gladstone gives the following interesting account of Peel’s talk at dinner:

“He was in great force, some of the conversation very interesting. He had seen a letter written by the Duke of Wellington soon after entering the army, in which he expressed the hope that he should be taken out of the army, as there seemed to be no chance of any promotion!!

“Peel told me he required very little sleep, that he was a light sleeper at any time, and got but a small portion when his mind was occupied. He still regretted the political power which some had, the Duke of Wellington for instance.”

Mrs. Gladstone in these years saw something of the Royal children, as their governess, Sarah, Lady Lyttelton,[63] was the mother-in-law of her sister Mary. The following visits to the Palace are recorded in the Journal:

“_July, 1842._--Went to see Lady Lyttelton and the Royal children. The Princess[64] is a very interesting child, no longer answering to Mary’s[65] description, ‘a sadly delicate thing.’ She is the image of the Queen. I played on the pianoforte, which delighted her, she tried to dance, and when I stopped called for ‘more.’ The Prince of Wales a fine, fair, satisfactory baby, whom William and I gazed upon with deep interest. We kissed his little hand. Who could look at him and think of his destiny without mixed emotion?”

“_March 8, 1844._--Took Willie and Agnes[66] to Buckingham Palace by desire of the Queen. Lady Lyttelton received us, and we took off the children’s things before going in to H.M. She shook hands very kindly and desired me to sit down by her. The three Royal children were with her. Princess Alice a nice fat baby, thoroughly good humoured and benevolent. Princess Royal about a head shorter than Willie, very engaging, not exactly pretty but like the Queen and Prince Albert. The Prince of Wales small, and the head not striking me as well shaped, his long trousers tied below the ankles and very full, most unbecoming. His manners very dear and not shy. They are evidently quite unspoilt, and I observed the Queen made them obey her. Princess Royal and Willie kissed each other, and she patronised little Agnes who stood by her and the Prince, quite at home and nearly as tall as the Prince, so much so as to make the Queen observe, ‘The Prince _is_ the tallest of the two’ (he was a year older). I was much relieved at my children being so good and doing no harm. The Queen observed, ‘What care Willie takes of Agnes,’ admired his hair and his width. Agnes’s independence amused her, and she was in fits of laughter occasionally at her. Before leaving the Queen kissed both my children.”

“_January 30, 1846._--Dined at the Palace; the Queen ill dressed; very kind to us, talking much of Mary’s children and my own. The Queen has ordered me to bring my children to her on Saturday.

“I accordingly took the four, Willie, Agnes, Stephen,[67] and Jessy.[68] H.M. came in with her four, and was very nice and kind. Princess Royal a nice quiet thing, not so much difference in the heights as last time. Prince of Wales has a striking countenance, Alfred very pretty, all have such fat white necks. Prince Alfred is a year and a half old, Stephen head and shoulders taller at a year and ten months. The Queen commented on Agnes’s looks: ‘I had not heard about her being so very pretty.’ Thought Willie pale and Stephen gigantic, baby fat and like her father. She took great notice of them all, kissed Agnes and gave them a huge lamb between them all, which the Royal children and ours played with very happily during the visit. The Queen spoke of their goodness, asked if they were always so good.”

We must now return to 1842. In September, at Hawarden, Gladstone met with the shooting accident that caused the loss of the forefinger of his left hand. Except for that no harm was done, and Mrs. Gladstone records her husband’s calmness and cheerfulness, “only thankful for his escape and thinking how he could make the best of it for me. He only seemed to think of others, evincing the greatest coolness and presence of mind, quietly submitting to the operation, which lasted five minutes. It gave him terrible pain, which he bore with unflinching courage.” There were really two operations, but this was kept from his wife, who was expecting her confinement in a month. The surgeon found he had made the cut in the wrong place and had to do it all over again. As the days of chloroform had not yet dawned, the acutest agony was endured. All went well, and in a few days Gladstone was able to play chess and whist without inconvenience.

On 18th October Mrs. Gladstone drove in the park with her husband, and at 8 p.m. her little girl (Agnes) was born, “a fine healthy baby with pretty features, complexion nice and clear, never red.”

Christmas was spent at Hawarden.

“_December 29._--My dear William’s birthday. God bless him! How every day that passes more and more impresses me with the treasure I am blessed with, but alas! how very far I am behind him.

“_January 6, 1843._--Thirty-one to-day. Time passes so quickly, and in reviewing the past year how little I have done. May God enable me to act upon the resolutions I have formed.

“_January 7._--Most people struck by baby’s beauty, the eyes particularly large and fine and very expressive, dark blue in colour, the sweetest thing that ever was.

“_January 30._--We all left dear Hawarden, a party of seventeen, including the Lytteltons and mama, besides children. Willie a very fatiguing traveller, Agnes excellent. William[69] met us at the station, all well. Whirled by the bustle of London and the contrast of Hawarden.

“_March 3._--Engaged a cook after a long conversation about religious matters, chiefly between her and William. She interested me greatly.

“_March 6._--To Mr. Richmond with my boy, he finds him difficult to paint and varying in expression.

“Dined with Samuel Rogers. Archbishop of Canterbury, Bishop of London and Mrs. Blomfield, Wordsworth, Lord Glenelg, and others. Mr. Rogers whispered to me that he was much impressed at having the heads of the Church to dine with him. I never saw him so little at ease.

“_March 17._--We dined at the Palace. Clanwilliams, Lord Palmerston, Lord Rosebery, Lord Jersey. Lord Sydney took me in. After dinner the Queen asked me about William’s accident and the children and Mary. She has a good deal of expression when speaking, more than I had thought. Was surprised to find it so little formal, really enjoyed my evening.”

Mrs. Gladstone was piling up experiences of many kinds. She was learning the cares and pleasures of motherhood; she had become familiar with the life of palaces and of political centres. She also gained some acquaintance with a more sordid side of existence. One of her housemaids had to be prosecuted for theft; Mrs. Gladstone had to spend two mornings at Bow Street and to attend the trial. “Having with the policeman, the searcher, and the pawnbroker sworn to speak the truth, the whole truth, I went into the box. I felt very shy; they would not admit William with me. To find myself there gave quite a new view of life.” Mrs. Gladstone visited the girl at Newgate and at the Penitentiary.

In 1843 Gladstone first became a Cabinet Minister.

“_May 13, 1843._--A letter from Sir Robert Peel offering William a seat in the Cabinet, to succeed Lord Ripon as President of the Board of Trade. He went to Peel, having taken a short time for consideration, and came back to tell me there was a hitch, because of the Church question. I walked with him in Kensington Gardens. He was oppressed by the great anxiety to act rightly, he asked me to pray for him. How thankful I am to be joined to one whose mind is purity and integrity itself. If I have received joy in reading Peel’s letter, how much more ought I to feel in seeing the way he received it, in witnessing that tenderness of conscience which shrinks at the bare idea of any worldly gain lest it should in any way interfere with higher duties.

“_May 15._--A consultation with Hope and Manning of some length. They persuaded him to go himself to Peel. He has accepted; God bless and prosper him in his new office. He has been very happy in his former place. May the increase of responsibility not injure his precious health. How I wish he could have a horse!”

In August Mr. and Mrs. Gladstone and the children went to Fasque on a visit to his father. From Glasgow to Fasque she travelled on the outside of the mail coach, a twelve hours’ drive, her first experience of such a mode of journeying, enjoying it immensely. When returning in October, prevented by bad weather from going by sea as they had intended from Dundee to London, they caught the midnight mail from Perth. Only one inside place was available, so Mrs. Gladstone elected to mount to the top with her husband, and so travelled all night, “cold and blowing a high wind.”

Some of the entries in the Journal for 1844 show that Mrs. Gladstone’s mind was turning towards the distress in London which, later on, she was to do so much to relieve. At dinner in March with the Duke and Duchess of Buccleuch, her host talked to her of the misery existing in London, and she thought his conversation showed the interest and pains he took. At this period she often went to the House of Commons, and one night heard Shiel, “his style fluent and brilliant, but ranting, and the voice peculiarly discordant and unpleasant”; and on another, Lord Ashley on the Factory question.

On 4th April her son Stephen was born, “a plain baby, small eyes,” but a few months later she notes, “baby greatly improved.” In June she was present at a party at Buckingham Palace given for the Emperor of Russia,[70] “a grand-looking personage, his figure so striking, tall, and commanding, his manner remarkable, so very civil and courteous, friendly without losing his dignity. The form and manner struck me more than the face itself. But he has an expression that seems to look straight through one, something peculiarly awful in the eyes. The profile, however, is good, and combined with the figure there is something grand and noble. It was interesting to watch him and the Duke of Wellington talking together. When the Queen and the Emperor had finished with refreshments, the manner in which she took his arm, and his in giving it to her, was striking and graceful beyond description; the great inequality of their heights would never have been suspected, such was the grace and ease with which they walked off together.”

Mrs. Gladstone thoroughly enjoyed the continual meetings with interesting persons; she liked listening to the conversation of such men as Peel and Brougham, and was hugely delighted when after a concert at the Palace the Duke of Wellington insisted on escorting her husband and herself to their carriage. “I was fearful lest he should catch cold, there was such a draught; he merely placed his cocked hat upon his head. How characteristic is all he says, and the honesty and peculiar straightforwardness of his character.”

On 27th July 1845 a second daughter was born, Catherine Jessy, “a nice fat thing, with famous lungs to judge by her voice, the mouth so small with short upper lip, the hair darkish, very placid, and takes much notice for her age.”

There were some interesting dinners at Sir Robert Peel’s. One in March 1848 she thus describes:

“Anxiety and sorrow sat on many of the countenances assembled. There stood Guizot, with that piercing eye of fire, his whole appearance eagle-like, his countenance beaming with sagacity and a great intellect, in earnest conversation with Peel, full of gesture, and now and then his voice raised, as if bursting with feeling that would out. There were the poor Jarnacs, with full marks of sorrow for their King and Queen! The Princess Lieven; the Austrian Ambassador harassed afresh with the increasing troubles in Austria which so afflicted his wife as to make it impossible for her to be present. The party was relieved by Lord Aberdeen, Lord and Lady Mahon. I had some talk with Madame Jarnac. Her account of the poor Queen of France especially was touching, of the dangers and trials connected with their flight, of the sad deprivations to which they were subject, the terror of the poor Queen about her husband and then her children. Sir Robert Peel joined in our conversation; he views the state of Europe with much alarm. He had received private information respecting the Prince of Prussia (now at Bunsen’s), who is said to have broken his sword, and laid it with his spurs at the feet of the King of Prussia. Lady Peel looks so wonderfully young and pretty. I returned home excited with the evening we had passed with that remarkable party.”

Next year (1849) dining again at Sir Robert Peel’s, Peel talked to her after dinner. “I confess I had never known him so well before, for now his conversation turned on subjects which specially brought out feeling, his children and their education, Lady Lincoln, Mr. Goulburn’s trials and excellences. Speaking of his children he enlarged upon the satisfaction of having no permanent governess, liked his girls to travel with him, said it enlarged their minds, and a good deal more, showing that amidst all his great cares the domestic element was very near his heart.”

Two more daughters were born, Mary, in 1847, and Helen in 1849. The first sorrow of their married life occurred in 1850, when on 9th April their little girl Catherine Jessy (born 1845) died of meningitis after a long and painful illness. In her Journal Mrs. Gladstone writes:

“Yes, to look at her face after death was a privilege. I dread lest the solemn remembrance of her loved face should in any way fade, so holy it was.

“My loved child, my own Jessy, to think that the quiet countenance in its deep repose is the same which but a few hours before seemed racked with pain. The hair waved softly on the marble forehead, the dark lashes fringing her cheeks, the little white hands folded across one another. We had placed roses and lilies of the valley about her. I could not describe the sublimity of her expression.”

In 1850, after the death of their second daughter, Catherine, Gladstone took his wife to Brighton to recruit, and although Mrs. Gladstone looked worn and found it difficult to join in general conversation, she felt as if a great calm had set in “after the storms before.”

Two more sons were born, Henry Neville in 1852, and Herbert John[71] in 1854. Thus between 1840 and 1854 Mrs. Gladstone became the mother of eight children, seven of whom survived. While never neglecting her duties as a mother, from the first she studied her husband and sought to secure him the quiet at home which he needed during the Parliamentary Session. He used to say to her, “It is always relief and always delight to see and to be with you.” Her sister Lady Lyttelton gave him the same sense of restfulness; the two sisters were as united after marriage as they had been before, and their close association was only broken by Lady Lyttelton’s death in 1857. Gladstone wrote at the time: “They so drew from their very earliest years and not less since marriage than before it, their breath, so to speak, in common.” Lady Lyttelton left twelve children, and Mrs. Gladstone, despite the cares of her own family, and the rest of her various pre-occupations, never ceased to look after these children as long as they needed her.

Mr. Gladstone was the soul of method, neatness, and punctuality; the girl he had married was exactly the reverse, and she used to tease her husband and tell him it was good for him to have an untidy, unmethodical wife, it made him more human. Many stories are told of her delinquencies. It is said that on one occasion when cards of invitation were being sent out for a great party, certain letters of the alphabet were mislaid and ultimately found after the party, hidden in the interstices of a sofa into which they had fallen. The deep offence of those persons who had received no invitation may be better imagined than described. Most of us have known the queer experience of the sudden disappearance of a pencil case or a pair of scissors, when sitting on a chair or sofa of a certain type of upholstery.

When Mrs. Gladstone was beginning philanthropic work and had charge of money connected with it, her husband told her that she must have a cash box to keep it in, and must take great care of the key. One day she triumphantly showed him the box with the key carefully fastened on to it! But be it said that where such casual ways would have been harmful to her husband’s interests, she was able to overcome them.

She managed all the details of their daily life; the meals were punctually served, the carriage at the door to the moment. Mr. Gladstone was never, through her instrumentality, kept waiting for anything. She contrived with what almost amounted to genius to have a hot dinner consisting of suitable food ready at any time between eight and twelve o’clock that Mr. Gladstone might come home from the House. It was always she who made the arrangements for journeys; she looked after all the details of, and carefully guarded him from, the tiresome inconveniences and annoyances inseparable from travel. She used laughingly to tell him that while he, no doubt, could govern the country admirably, arrangements for a railway journey were better left to her. She accompanied him to the House of Commons whenever he had an important speech to make, and from the Speaker’s little gallery listened to every word and watched every gesture. She herself mixed the egg-flip with which Mr. Gladstone provided himself when his voice was to undergo a prolonged strain. In 1847, when she canvassed for her husband at Oxford, she was described as a “potent canvasser.” At Newcastle in 1862 she told a friend that it had been the happiest day of her life, while her husband averred: “Catherine is a great part of the whole business everywhere,” and twenty years later she said, “I shall never forget that day! It was the first time that he was received as he deserved to be.”