Foreign courts and foreign homes

Front matter

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Contents

I. Early Days in Hanover .... 1

II. Last Days in Hanovkr 23

III. England 33

Chapter I Eaely Days In Hanover

Half a century ! What a long time it seems to the young ! what a short time to those who have lived through it ! and the question rises, Would you like to live it all over again ? Ah ! if one were only more sure of the future — if the curtain were lifted for only one little moment, just to tell us it is all right, that it is only a struggle here and that some day we shall understand and know why we have suffered so much, why our hearts have been well-nigh broken — then, I say, if the curtain were lifted, we should not want to live the fifty years again ; for we should know the why and wherefore of all our hopes and fears.

But I am not going to preach — not going to write a sermon. I have heard too many. I am only trying to write a few pages of my life. It is not very interesting, perhaps you will say : then don't read it ; throw the book aside, take up another, and forget my humble efforts.

There were only we three, two girls and a boy. I was the youngest of the family, never crossed by my sister, who was three years older, and who at an early age tried to fill a mother's place, and curb the wild Irish blood that I inherited from my mother, which was luckily tempered on my father's side with the cold blasts of an eastern county in England, or I should have come to terrible grief. My sister always looked after me well, aided, I am sure, by my guardian angel for I do believe in those angels, and am sure they help us to fight the battles of sin and sorrow ; and when one has conquered in the fight, one can almost hear the soft rustling

EAELY DAYS IN HANOVER 3

of their wings, as they fold them gently, rejoicing with the angels in Heaven that their prayers have been answered, and that they can add another victory to one's score of victories won in the good fight.

Am I moralizing again ? I hope not, for the book will get very tedious.

We were all brought up in a quaint German town, where we were all born. My father held high position at the Court, and the old King from my babyhood had singled me out to be kind to, as I was his godchild. I can remember having an unbounded reverence, the most passionate love for my godfather. He often came to our house, and, as soon as I heard the tramp of his horses, it was a dead fight between me and my nurse, for I wanted to rush down and open the door with my little hands, and let him in. He always used to pat my head and give me a bonbon.

One day it was my birthday, and I had beautiful presents, but none from the King. Nothing came from him. I was wild. If it only had been a penny doll, anything, I

B 2 should have prized it. I was jeered and laughed at by my brother and sister and servants, who mockingly said, ' Where are your godfather's presents ? ' Passionately I seized all the presents I had had, threw them about the room, and danced on them with rage and fury, pursued by the furious nurse, when in the midst of all this turmoil and row the door opened, and in came my mother, accompanied by the King.

' Now you will go to prison, and serve you right,' said the frightened nurse, as she flew out of the room, and tried to drag me with her. But I refused to go, and stood in the middle of the room aghast.

' What is all this about ? ' sternly asked my mother. The King, much amused, called me to him, and took me on his knee (oh, I can remember that scene so well !), and, patting my little head, he said, ' Tell godfather all.' And I did. Tightly clutching him round the neck, with sobs and tears I told my baby sorrow, and he, dear old man, before whom others trembled, said, ' You are quite right, the King ought to remember his godchildren ; ' felt in his pocket and gave me the customary bonbon, and said, ' Your mother is to bring you to the Palace next week. I am giving a party to all good children.'

The day came. I can see the large room a mass of Christmas trees, for it was winter, and in the middle of the room a tiny tree which I was told was for one little girl — no one knew who, but — an especial favourite of the King. How we all wondered who it was, when suddenly a page came, led me up, and said, ' The tree is for you.' I was dumbfounded at lirst, and then danced round the brilliantly lighted little tree.

The German children looked furious at this especial mark of honour to me, and a murmur of ' that English child ' was heard buzzing about. In the midst of it out came the King, lifted me up on his shoulder, and carried me round the tree, and let them all see the little English child. When I was put down, some childish instinct made me kneel down and kiss the hand he held out to me, and from that day, yes, even now, he

6 FOKEIGN COURTS AND FOREIGN HOIMES

has always been a sort of King Arthur to me, though he has been dead years and years.

At an early age I was a terror to governesses and nursery-maids, as I stuck at nothing to carry out any plan that I had formed in my wild little head. The old King, who (in spite of being sovereign of a German court, and surrounded by Germans) used to glory in his English blood, had nicknamed me ' Daredevil.'

I remember a baby sister of mine being born, and the Queen consented to be godmother. As was the custom in those days, the christening took place in our dining-room, and both their Majesties honoured it with their presence. I had a bad cold and could not come down, and all the maids crowded on the landing and staircase to see the company arrive. I was left alone and determined to see the fun ; so I got out of bed, opened the window, and leaned out to look at all the carriages and horses, feeling sure I was safe for half an hour, and stretching my small body as far out as it would go. All of a sudden I overbalanced myself, and fell out of the window, lucidly only one story high, into the garden below, and was picked up, a little ignominious heap of dirt and mud, by a bystander, and taken into the house, fondly hoping I should escape into it unnoticed and creep up to my room. But no ! It was a broiling day and the windows were open, and the small white bundle was seen falling to the ground. My father rushed to the window saying, 'What is it ? ' The King mildly said, ' Only Daredevil. Bring her in.' In I was brought, and with sobs and tears, said, ' I did so want to see the fun.' The King decided I should see the fun ; so I, in my little white night-gown, freely bespattered with mud, and little bare feet, stood in the gay crowd of ladies and stiff German officers, and watched the proceedings with wistful eyes, for I knew the punishment had yet to come. Luckily I was not hurt at all, excepting for a small cut across my lip, the scar of which I bear to this day. But after it was all over and everybody gone, w^asl not whipped, first soundly by my father, then by the governess, and last, but worst of all, by the nurserymaid, who had been soundly scolded for leaving me alone.

Many are the stories my father used to tell me of the old King, whose language at times was anything but parliamentary. One night it was my father's turn of waiting. He had to go at a late hour to take despatches to the King, for a courier had arrived from London to tell him of the birth of an English royal prince. My father went to the door of the royal apartments, knocked loudly once, twice. No answer. At last, impatient and wearying of waiting, he knocked still louder and louder. The door was opened and a page came out, and inside the King's voice was heard using oath after oath (luckily in English), ending up by asking, ' What the d-v-1 do you want ? ' The page, with a frightened look on his face, took the despatches, saying, ' His Majesty was not to be disturbed, as he was saying his prayers.'

But prayers said in this peculiar manner had to give way to despatches from Eng-

EAKLY DAYS IN HANOVER 9

land ; and an autograph letter of congratulation was written by the old King, and my father told to go at once with it to England, and deliver it to the EngHsh Court. My father, much put out at this peremptory order, left the royal presence, and in half an hour was on his way to England, doubtless copying His Majesty's example by saying his prayers in the same peculiar manner.

The Queen was very fond of my sister, and she was often asked to the palace. 1 was not asked by her, nor my brother either, for he and I always did something to disgrace ourselves. My sister was so good and gentle ! Often and often did wo make her shed tears at the threats we two made of the dreadful deeds we meant to commit if we were not asked. She was once asked to Herrenhausen on a visit. The Queen had no daughter of her own, and said she would have loved to have had a gentle little girl as my sister was. She had some childish illness during this visit, and the Queen had her to sleep in her dressing-room. The child awoke in the middle of the night.

startled and alarmed by a blaze of light, and saw a page softly going through her room, carrying a large silver waiter, on which were all sorts of good things : cold chicken, pates, jellies, ices, fruit, champagne, etc. It was taken into the Queen's room, and came out much emptier than it went in. Each night this took place, and my sister was told to lie down and sleep, as the Queen was only eating her supper.

One day there was a grand review. Some scion of royalty had arrived, accompanied by his son, a child of eight years old. There was no pony small enough for the young Prince to ride. We had a lovely Shetland pony called ' Prince Charlie,' and my brother and I taught him to do all sorts of circus tricks — stand on his hind legs at a particular whistle, and then we gave him sugar. My brother had been promised by my father to ride this pony at the review, when a message came, early in the morning, that the pony was wanted for the young Prince to ride. My brother and I were wild. We determined on vengeance, and that the Germans should see they could not ride English ponies. Oh, how frightened my sister was ! We threatened to burn her pet doll if she said anything to my mother. I can see her now in the carriage, going off with my mother to the review, wath a white set face, dreading the unknown horror that was hanging over her. My brother went in the crowd with the governess. For some reason I was left alone behind at home. I saw the stately procession pass from the nursery window : the King, Crown Prince, theKoyal Guest, the little Prince riding our own pony. How well he rode ! Even I was forced to own it.

The review took place. In the middle of the march-past, all at once a shrill whistle was heard. The pony knew and recognised it, stopped, stood up on his hind legs, wistfully looking for his bit of sugar. My brother, wild with delight at his trick, answering, fondly hoped and thought the young Prince would fall off. But, no ! Though startled, he stuck to his seat, and brought his small whip well down on the pony's ears, and

Prince Charlie was fairly beaten and cowed. The persons who suffered for it were my brother and I, the conspirators, as for weeks we were not allowed to ride the pony, as the groom was supposed to be breaking it of its rearing.

All this time I have never mentioned the Crown Prince, as he was then called, afterwards King George V. He was quite blind, from an accident in his boyhood. I was much frightened and alarmed at him, much more than at the King, and childlike gazed at his sightless eyes with wonder and awe. I can well remember one evening at our house he had come in to supper, and reaching across the table for something or other, he was so blind that he did not even see the lighted candle, and put his eye against it. The agony must have been dreadful, and while everyone was rushing about to suggest remedies, the Prince's voice was heard in commanding tones : ' Don't tell my mother.' Even in his hour of pain the love and thought of his mother were predominant. None of us children forgot it ; and from that

EAELY DAYS IN HANOVER 13

moment a deeper, still more passionate love rose in our hearts for our own dear mother.

I don't think he knew what fear was, and no one meeting him in Hanover, walking in the streets lightly leaning on his aide-decamp's arm, would have imagined him blind, so firmly did he walk. One day he brought a little white Maltese dog as a present for the nursery. I at once adopted it, and claimed it as my own. It always slept on my bed, and followed me like a shadow. When we moved to England the dog was to be left behind ; but I cried and sobbed so piteously that I became quite ill, so I was allowed to bring the dog, and it lived to a good old age, and when it died was buried in the garden of Belgrave Square ; and even now, though I am old, and half a century has passed, the memory of Schnee comes across me, and I wish I had the Indian faith, and think of Schnee happy in the hunting-fields of Dogs' Paradise.

I recollect the old Emperor William of Germany (then Prince Wilham) coming on a visit to Hanover. We children used to love to walk towards Herrenhausen, and our attendants were equally pleased to loiter about with us outside the railings, and see all the princely personages that used to pass so often to and fro. My father, whose term of duty was on, was in attendance on the Prince, and used to come home and tell many stories of the Prince's kindness and courtesy. I wish I could remember them all. No one in those days could foresee the destiny of the grand old Emperor. The irony of fate ! How little could he and all the obsequious Germans who followed him about, foretell it either ! What would they have said if a palmist or somnambulist could have read the future, and told how the reigning house of Hanover would be driven out, their King in exile, and Prince William sovereign of United Germany ? Is Hanover happier for this change of fate ? Is she happier for having no longer a King or court ? the Prussian flag flying on her State buildings ? the old familiar White Horse of the Guelph put aside, aye, almost forgotten ? I should think not, in her heart, though the city looks prosperous ; she cannot forget the old times, though now she is one of the brightest and most sparkling jewels in the Imperial diadem — she cannot, for the sake of her much-loved and honoured Kings. All is so uncertain. Perhaps some day United Germany may get tired of paying the taxes that are levied on them since they enrolled themselves under the flag of the House of Brandenburg.

But time passes, and I must not weary you with too much of Hanover.

I think the Crown Prince was more beloved than his father. The old King had terrible bursts of passion, and his eyes in those rages shone and glistened like a tiger's. He prided himself onbeing true and honourable; scorned a lie, and would rather have had hisrighthand burnt off than tell or act one. ' Ich bin klar als Wasser mit jeder Mensch ' (I am clear as water with everyone) was his favourite motto, and he prided himself on acting up to it. In some things he was so English, and to the day of his death always spoke German with an English accent. He was not popular for some reasons ; and his bringing my father, an Enghshman, over, and keeping him on as his aide-de-camp, caused a lot of bad feeling between my father and the other German officials. My father bitterly resented any coolness on their part, and haughtily refused to have any salary or emolument of any sort as aide-de-camp, when he knew it would come out of the State money. I think it was foolish of him, as he spent a great deal of his private fortune in living up to his position. He used to give beautiful presents to the King, and at this moment one of my ancestors' portraits is hanging in the palace of Herrenhausen. He also had a fine collection of engravings of all the celebrated pictures of the great Sir Kobert Walpole, the originals of which were bought by the Empress Catherine, and are at this moment at the Winter Palace at St. Petersburg. My father, who was a descendant of the great Prime Minister, gave all this priceless collection to the King he at one time so loved and admired.

But, strange to say, though the King accepted all these presents, he never made any return for them, but took them all as a matter of course.

Looking back to those old childish days, I do think Germany is a happy paradise for children. The Christmas trees, the sledging, the snow and ice, bonbons and playthings, the many Christmas presents that we as children got from all ! I recollect a children's ball that was given at Herrenhausen. My brother had a small uniform made for him, as (don't be shocked, my English readers) he always said he would be an officer in the Hanoverian army, and never leave the country of his birth. He was a very handsome boy. We two girls were dressed as German peasants. My brother was furious when we appeared. His small head had been quite turned by the splendour of his dress and the admiration of the male servants. What he expected us to wear I can't think ; but when he saw our humble costumes he furiously refused to enter the ball-room with us. ' He was an

c

18 FOREIGN COURTS AND FOREIGN HOaiES

officer,' he proudly said. Oh ! what a scene took place ! My mother wept and implored ; the governess threatened ; the nurse entreated. It was hopeless. My father was not there. Who was to conquer this young Turk ? My poor sister, always ready to give in meekly, took off her pretty little costume and said she would rather go to bed. I faced my brother, and a regular fight took place between us. At last we were both seized by the furious nurse ; two separate carriages were called, and I was put in one with her, and the boy, sulky and defiant, went with my mother. And so at last we arrived at Herrenhausen. What a brilliant spectacle it was, the last I ever saw in Hanover ! I shall never forget it, or the blaze of jewels the Queen wore. Ah, those were historic jewels, and have been the subject of a long lawsuit and estrangement between the sovereigns of England and Hanover. They had been brought over by the Elector of Hanover, I fancy, when made King of England, and the English nation claimed them and lost the lawsuit. I could not take my eyes off the Queen ; she seemed such a blaze of light. I was standing by my mother when Her Majesty came up and asked where my sister was ; she was so fond of her, and always singled her out at all the childish gatherings. My mother told the whole story. The Queen was much amused, and sent for my brother and said, ' The first duty of an officer is obedience. Take your sister and dance this next quadrille with her, or deliver up your sword.' Cowed and abashed, my brother offered me his arm. What a miserable quadrille it was ! At the end he led me back to my seat, calmly saying, ' We will fight this out to-morrow ; ' but before the evening was over we made it up : we loved each other too well to keep up a quarrel, and soon were dancing joyously together. When we left the hall and made our tiny obeisances to the King and Queen, the King sternly said to my brother, ' If you had not danced with your sister, I should have had you put under arrest. A soldier's duty is to obey orders.' How stern and fierce he looked ! how frightened we were !

and for a long time after that my brother, if he heard a knock at the door, shook with fright, thinking it was someone coming to arrest him.

My father and the King were on the most extraordinary terms together. Sometimes my father had the devotion of a dog for him — would have laid down his life for him, and yet at the slightest real or imaginary affront, would (as the King expressed it) turn and rend him. The King, on the other hand, would go out of his way to rouse my father's ire. One day, when in an excited swearing mood, he was dictating a letter in English to my father. Everything had gone wrong that morning with him : my father had been late ; the English newspapers had a violent article of abuse on the King of Hanover ; his favourite charger, which he rode at reviews, had gone lame. He was sending a letter to Sir Robert Peel, and my father wrote exactly as he dictated. The letter was mixed up with the most extraordinary abusive language to my father. At the end, as he was writing too slowly, the

King, in the midst of a sentence, told him to go to Hell, a place to which he was very fond of sending him. My father calmly wrote it all down ; he was furious, and the most extraordinary letter that was ever penned was sent that day, by the hands of one of the messengers, to one of our Cabinet Ministers. In the end the King apologised to my father for all his ill-temper, and my father told him about the despatch. Instead of being angry, the King roared with laughter at it. But it was too serious a thing, after all, not to be looked well into, so another messenger was sent after the first to recall the letter. Luckily a terrific storm was raging, and the boat had not sailed. So the letter was brought back and read by the King, who, being in a good temper, declared it served him right. But all these jokes, quarrels, and misunderstandings came suddenly to an end by a hasty and ungovernable fit of temper on my father's part. The King had come to supper privately with my parents. On these occasions he always called himself Duke of Cumberland, dropping his title of King. As usual they were, so to say, quarrelling about some trifling mistake my father had made in presenting people to the King the night before. The King, getting more and more excited, abused my father in his usual strong language, and he, in a fit of excitement, at once, then and there, gave in his resignation, announcing his intention to leave for England that night. The resignation was accepted, and His Majesty left the house. My father at once left for England, and never returned to Hanover. His resignation was formally and officially sent in, and accepted.