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of the case, her heart instinctively clung to her mother, who, wayward and flighty beyond belief, had a certain gay good-humour that probably attracted children. The Princess of Wales was not likely to attach her daughter to Queen Charlotte, by whom she was herself treated very coldly. In May, 1807, she claimed to be received at Court, which was reluctantly granted ; but the Queen gave no token of being pleased to see her. On this occasion the Prince and Princess of Wales met for the last time in their lives, and in the very centre of the apartment-the observed of all observers. They bowed, paused a moment or two, exchanged a few words heard by no one else, and then passed on; he, cold and stately, she, “ halfmirthful, half-melancholy, as though she rejoiced she was there in spite of him, and yet regretted that her visit was not under happier auspices.” Three years afterwards, Queen Charlotte sent the Princess of Wales an elegant aigrette on her birthday. The Princess Charlotte, with more levity than respect, observed that it was "pretty well, considering who sent it!" which was doubtless received with a hearty laugh. The poor old Queen's popularity had long been on the wane ; she was most unjustly considered stingy, though it appeared, after her death, that she had privately given large sums of money to her sons; and her strong sense of propriety was equally unpalatable to the Prince and Princess of Wales. I remember hearing that on one occasion, when every one had, in obedience to etiquette, finished their tea at the same time with the Queen, except the Princess Charlotte, who remained chatting and sipping from her cup, an attendant presented himself with a salver, and respectfully said, “Your Royal Highness, Her Majesty has finished," on which she laughingly replied, “If the Queen's throat is paved, mine is not,” and retained her cup. The story went on to relate that the Queen took no notice of the slight at the time, but, the next morning, sent for the Princess, and remonstrated with her on her conduct, adding, “ The King's days can now be but few; and, should an untimely end unhappily await your father, you would be Queen of England. In that event, I should pay to you the same respect that you now owe to me,” which so much touched the Princess that she shed tears.
Another anecdote was, that the Princess Charlotte, on asking one of the ladies placed about her who would be the proper person to present her at Court, was answered, "the Duchess of York,” which made her so indignant at the implied slight to her mother, that she threw a cup of tea into the speaker's face. For this she was taken to task by her preceptor, Bishop Fisher, who said, “I fear your Royal Highness did not remember my recommendation to overcome these hasty bursts of temper, by mentally repeating the Lord's Prayer.” “O) yes," said she, “ I remembered it, but I really was too much provoked to do it.”
She early gave traits, indeed, of self-will, caprice, and obstinacy; but also of kindness, generosity, and a love of truth, candour, and rectitude. “Her skin is white," wrote Lady Charlotte Campbell, " but not a transparent white; there is little or no shade in her face, but her features are very fine. Their expression, like that her general demeanour, is noble. Her feet are rather small, her hands and arms are finely moulded. She has a hesitation in te speech, amounting almost to a stammer; her voice is flexible, and her tones dulcet, except when she laughs." For the greater per of this description I can vouch. I perfectly remember seeing bor, coming out of the Chapel-Royal one Sunday, dressed in a gre satin pelisse, walking very fast--holding the Bishop, her preceptor not by the arm, but by the hand-and bobbing, rather than bowins. her head to the rows of people between whom she passed. Ste looked very white, and very cross, as if she had heard something unpleasant in the sermon.
Poor young Princess! she was very unhappy. At that time she was living in the dismal seclusion of Warwick House, behind Pics dilly. The Princess of Wales had publicly appealed to the Prince in a letter which he had twice privately sent back unopened, sai which she then inserted in the newspapers ; remonstrating, among other things, against the restrictions now placed on her intercourse with her daughter. The Prince-Regent, incensed at the pabbisty thus given to the letter, refused to allow any meeting at all, fue awhile, between the Princesses. The Duchess of Leeds was as pointed to succeed Lady De Clifford as governess, much to the do satisfaction of the Princess Charlotte, who said she thought she was old enough, now, to dispense with a governess. But though w Order in Council might prevent the mother and daughter fra meeting under one roof, it could not prevent chance intervāts D the open air, when their carriages met. On one of these ocasions they drew up near the Serpentine River, leant from their carti windows, and eagerly kissed one another, greatly to the interest sympathizing spectators.
In 1814, the Prince of Orange came to England as the Prisons Charlotte's suitor. The Prince Regent had the marriage much heart, and more than one interview with the Princess was accord him. But he failed to obtain her good graces, which some say were already bespoken for Prince Leopold of Saxe-Coburg by the Duchess of Oldenburg. As the Princess, though forbidden to me her mother, continually exchanged letters with her, the Prince Regent, believing this correspondence influenced her rejection of in Prince of Orange, prohibited its continuance, and even, it is sit examined the contents of her writing-desk. Satisfied that she w still too much under her mother's influence, he quietly took messina for her removal from Warwick Honse to the dull seclusion of Cr bourne Lodge, in Windsor Forest. Accordingly, on the 16th July, 1814, he repaired to Warwick House, accompanied by the De'w ladies-in-waiting whom he intended to place about the Prime These were the Countesses of Rosslyn and Ilchester, the Muns Coates, and Miss Campbell. A short walk through the gunless o Carlton House brought them to their destination. The Pre
Regent desired the ladies to wait in the ante-room, and then unceremoniously entered the drawing-room in which was the Princess.
To her surprise and dismay, he briefly informed her that her late attendants were dismissed ; their substitutes were in the adjoining room; and she herself must instantly prepare to accompany them to Cranbourne Lodge.
With wonderful self-command, she only begged that she might leave the room for a few minutes to take leave of her attendants and prepare for her journey. The Prince consented; and, as soon as she was gone, returned to Carlton House to dress for dinner.
No sooner was he gone than the Princess—who had hastily equipped herself-stole out of the house, hastened to Cockspurstreet, called a hackney-coach, and desired the hackney-coachman to drive her instantly to the Princess of Wales.
This man, who happened to be brother to my grandfather's coachman, said afterwards, he should never have suspected who she was, but for her putting into his hand a guinea. That made him think she must either be somebody who did not know the value of money, or who had some very particular reason for running away. He was confirmed in his suspicion on reaching Connaught House, by the servant's answer to the inquiry whether the Princess of Wales were at home, “ No, your Royal Highness."
The Princess Charlotte immediately desired that a messenger might be dispatched to recal her from Blackheath. The Princess of Wales was in her carriage when the messenger came up with her; and, with presence of mind, drove first to the House of Commons, in search of Mr. Whitbread, who was not there, and then to the House of Lords for Lord Grey, who was likewise absent. She then sent her servants in quest of Lord (then Mr.) Brougham, and for Miss Maria Elphinstone, a young friend of the Princess Charlotte's, whom she thought likely to influence her. For the Princess of Wales, frivolous as she was, had common sense enough to know that the heiress-presumptive to the Crown had placed herself in a very awkward situation; and she was obliged to provide for her extrication from it before she indulged herself in folding her to her heart. Mr. Brougham arrived first, speedily followed by Miss Elphinstone and the Princess of Wales. They found the Princess Charlotte's fixed resolution was, to quit her father's protection and live with her mother ; but Mr. Brougham explained to her that it was now settled by the law of the land that “ the King, or Regent, had absolute power to dispose of the persons of all the Royal Family while under age.” The Princess was greatly excited ; but her mother, though much affected, entreated her to yield to circumstances neither of them were able to resist; and her pleadings were enforced by the Archbishop of Canterbury, Lord Eldon, and the Duke of York, each of whom repaired to the spot in a hackneycoach. Lord Eldon, indeed, resorted to threats of shutting up; and after resisting all that could be said to her for many hours, the Princess at length consented, between four and five o'clock in the VOL. III.
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morning, to return to Warwick House, accompanied by the Duke of York and her governess.
She could expect nothing, after this, better than to be sen: Cranbourne Lodge, where she bore her seclusion better than ma have been expected. The Duke of Sussex desired to know, Parliament, whether his niece were “in durance," or permitted see her friends ; to which no satisfactory answer was given. Ty Princess of Wales offered to resign the Rangership of Greenme Park to her daughter, and give up Montague House to her; but the Regent replied that he would see to the Rangership being properit filled up, and could not permit his daughter to reside in s bare which had ever been inhabited by the Princess of Wales! He comment was, “End well, all well;" which was not verified in side case of any of the three. She hastened her preparations for gez to travel on the Continent; and, on the 9th of August, sailed from England, never to return to it during her daughter's life.
(To be continued.)
SOME PICTURES IN AND OUT OF THE ROYAL
The word which, all things considered, we should select to charact the Royal Academy Exhibition for 1860, is the word “health" Fox if any, of the pictures on the walls can be called great ; f'w, fu!. display the grandeur and power of creative imagination. But the " is, in general, sincere. The commonplace man has not said to him Go to, I will build a tower of High Art reaching unto Heaven Ibe light that never was on sea or shore has not been pan lielbr tiem: of sickly studio-dreaming. In the vast majority of instant en las been a reality in the painter's eye when he executed his work, IL has executed it without straining after effect, but without slitechs with a frank and loving energy which has alınost always him... something of nature's truth, life, and brightness, upon kus B4 The influence, therefore, of the exhibition is pleasant, brain.b e ful; the “sunlight of picture” falls with fresh and gladiun, like a kindly reminiscence of the sunlight of nature.
Reader, it is of some importance to have a clear and firm (D e e of what the terms healthfulness and sickliness, applied to an in mately mean. The Art of this year's Exhibition is, we have a healthful on the whole, but this qualification implies exi*pt lia the very worst picture of that sad time when Byron, oppu .com the ghastly hypocrisies of so-called High Art, sighed for the me
freshness of “one green field” been preserved to us—which by the kind decree of oblivion it has not been—we could not have contrasted more boldly the false and morbid with the true and healthful in Art, than by comparing the High-Art pictures on these walls by the great Academician and Professor of Painting, Solomon Alexander Hart, with the other productions of the year. There is evidently some wild witty fairy haunting the Councils of the Royal Academy, some sly and clever Puck, rejoicing in things “ that befal preposterously,” and clapping his hands in wicked glee when he gets an ass-headed Bottom placed, in delicious unconsciousness, side by side with a young and beaming Titania. Only on this supposition can we account for the fact that two of the sublime Professor's most sublime works are placed left and right of J. C. Hook's “ Stand Clear!” Right is “Sacred Music." Three female idealities, one bearing a banjo, in dim yellowish and reddish robes, with faces tending upwards, faintly sanctimonious, but, on the whole, with no meaning in particular, constitute the said sphereharmony. Right is a portrait of the respected Mr. Fogie, harmless and innocent-looking, unless it is a crime to be preternaturally dull, attended by Master Peter Fogie, an indescribably sleepish youth. The catalogue—the printer's imp having, no doubt, been in close league with the mischievous fairy we have imagined-bears that the said Fogies, senior and junior, are “ From the Lay of the Last Minstrel,” and after an effort we realize that Mr. Fogie and Master Peter are Academic idealizations of the minstrel and the orphan boy of Scott's poem. Look, now, between these High-Art sublimities. “Stand clear !" sings out the fisherman's boy on the right bow of the boat, as he sends the painter dancing into the air, and the last green wave lifts her lovingly home. There is music in that clear cry, Professor, to the full as sacred as the notes of the insipid lady's banjo. In the boat the father furls the sail, while his other two sons are on her left bow, ready to spring ashore. Bronzed with sun and sea-wind, but content with their lot-glowing with that health which sweetens the worker's fare, and makes his sleep light and dreamless-showing the ray of mercy which gilds the curse of labour honestly and bravely borne--this fisherman and his sons, with the green, bounding sea below, and the bright Heaven above, make up one of those pictures of nature which are indeed worthy to be reflected in the mirror of Art. There is a touch even of genuine composition, invaluable when really imaginative and not manufactured, in this work of Mr. Hook’s. The wave, gathering itself up as breakers do for a determined charge upon the shore, tilts the boat buoyantly to the left, throwing all her lines into new freedom and grace of curvature, and telling us how the ocean-bird can ride the waves far out to sea yonder. We are prepared to say that in mere technical power of composition, this fresh and unpretentious picture is incomparably superior to the works of the Academician. The pictures of Mr. Hart-we speak advisedly—are worth less than nothing. Instead of bearing the beholder, as true inagination does, above the loftiest pinnacles of nature, such painting lowers him irresistibly to the