  Report on the British Museum — The King and the Duchess of Kent; a scene — Inauguration of George III.'s Statue at Charing Cross — Poetry at the police court — The trip of the Nassau balloon. The British Museum had hitherto been the home (so to say) of red tape, so much so, that it seemed as if every possible obstacle was placed in the way of people enjoying and benefiting by that magnificent institution. In fact, its management became such a scandal, that on February 11th Mr. Estcourt moved that a select committee be appointed to inquire into its condition, management, and affairs, which was granted. In July the committee made their report to the House, and recommended that the number of official trustees be reduced, those who do not attend to be requested to resign, and the vacancies, as they occur, to be filled up by persons distinguished by their eminence in literature, science, and art. The museum to be opened during the Easter, Whitsun, and Christmas weeks, and on all public days from ten to seven in the months of May, June, July, and August; the reading-room to be opened throughout the year at nine o'clock in the morning. A further division of The old King was very fond of his niece Victoria, but could not abide her mother the Duchess of Kent, and Greville tells one story which does not redound greatly to the King's credit. "The King invited the Duchess of Kent to go to Windsor on the 12th of August, to celebrate the Queen's birthday (13th) and stay there over his own birthday, which was to be kept (privately) on the 21st (the real day, but falling on a Sunday), and publicly on the day following. She sent word that she wanted to keep her own birthday at Claremont on the 15th (or whatever the day is), took no notice of the Queen's birthday, but said she would go to Windsor on the 20th. This put the King in a fury; he made, however, no reply, and on the 20th he was in town to prorogue Parliament, having desired that they would not wait dinner for him at Windsor. After the prorogation, he went to Kensington Palace to look about it; when he got there, he found that the Duchess of Kent had appropriated to her own use a suite of apartments, seventeen in number, for which she had applied last year, and which he had refused to let her have. This increased his ill-humour, already excessive. "When he arrived at Windsor, and went into the drawing-room (at about ten at night), where the whole party was assembled, he went up to the Princess Victoria, took hold of both her hands, and expressed his pleasure at seeing her there, and his regret at not seeing her oftener. He then turned to the Duchess, and "Adolphus Fitzclarence went into his room on Sunday morning, and found him in a state of great excitement. It was his birthday, and, though the celebration was what was called private, there were a hundred people at dinner, either belonging to the Court, or from the neighbourhood. The Duchess of Kent sat on one side of the King, and one of his sisters on the other, the Princess Victoria opposite. Adolphus Fitzclarence sat two or three from the Duchess, and heard every word of what passed. After dinner, by the Queen's desire, 'His Majesty's health, and long life to him,' was given, and, as soon as it was drunk, he made a very long speech, in the course of which he poured forth the following extraordinary and foudroyante tirade:— "'I trust in God that my life may be spared for nine months longer, after which period, in the event of my death, no regency would take place. I should then have the satisfaction of leaving the Royal authority to the personal exercise of that young lady (pointing to the Princess), the heiress presumptive of the Crown, and not in the hands of a person now near me, who is surrounded by evil advisers, and who is herself incompetent to act with propriety in the station in which she would be placed. I have no hesitation in saying that I have been insulted—grossly and continuously insulted—by that person, but I am determined to endure no longer a course of behaviour so disrespectful to me. Amongst many other things, I have particularly to complain of the manner in which that young lady has been kept away from my Court; she has been repeatedly kept from my drawing-rooms, at which she ought always to have been present, but I am fully determined that this shall not happen again. I would have her know that I am King, and I am determined to make my authority respected; and, for the future, I shall insist and command that the Princess "This awful philippic (with a great deal more which I forget) was uttered with a loud voice and excited manner. The Queen looked in deep distress, the Princess burst into tears, and the whole company were aghast. The Duchess of Kent said not a word. Immediately afterwards, they rose and retired, and a terrible scene ensued: the Duchess announced her immediate departure, and ordered her carriage, but a sort of reconciliation was patched up, and she was prevailed upon to stay till the next day. The following morning, when the King saw Adolphus, he asked him what people said to his speech. He replied that they thought the Duchess merited his rebuke, but that it ought not to have been given there; that he ought to have sent for her into his closet, and have said all he felt and thought there, but not at table before a hundred people. He replied that he did not care where he said it, or before whom, that, 'By God, he had been insulted by her in a manner that was past all endurance, and he would stand it no longer.'" On August 3rd the equestrian statue of George III., in Pall Mall, was inaugurated. It is by Matthew C. Wyatt, and represents the King as he appeared when reviewing the volunteer troops in Hyde Park, in 1803. It was originally intended to place this statue at the bottom of Waterloo Place, where now stands the Guards' Memorial; but it was not considered proper that the statue of the Duke of York should have his back turned to the presentment of his father, and the site proposed was consequently, abandoned. The spot it now occupies was then selected, and preparations were made to erect the statue on June 4th, the anniversary of the venerable monarch's birthday. It was unveiled by the Duke of Cumberland, in the presence of a crowd of noblemen and gentlemen, amidst much cheering, but when the duke, who was never popular, left, he was severely hissed by the crowd. The statue is an excellent likeness of the old King, and, when first erected, was of a gorgeous golden colour. There was an amusing police case at the Mansion House on September 21st, when an old woman was charged with having presented a poetical begging petition at a bank in Lombard Street. She was very poor, and the alderman gave her two shillings. "Alderman Kelly: What can you do besides writing poetry? "Defendant: Besides writing poetry! Do you call that nothing? I can do more. I can teach people to write poetry. "Alderman Kelly: Well, whatever you do, you must not annoy people of business. If you are in necessity, you have a claim upon your parish, whatever people may say to you, and I advise you to act accordingly. "Defendant: When beggars apply for parochial relief, "Alderman Kelly: You had better give me back those two shillings for some more deserving person. "Mr. Hobler (chief clerk): I'd have you try the Press, now that the stamp is reduced. I've known some people paid for worse stuff at the enormous rate of a penny a line. "Defendant: God bless you, Mr. Hobler, you always give me good advice, as well as something to keep the wolf from the door. Long life to you, my good old clerk, Twice only have balloons from England crossed the Channel—once in 1785, and again in 1836—and, from its rarity, the fact deserves chronicling. On January 7, 1785, FranÇois (or Jean Pierre) Blanchard and Dr. Jeffries crossed the Channel in a balloon, starting from Dover, and alighting a few miles from Calais. This feat, in the very infancy of aerostation, was considered very wonderful, and Blanchard earned, in France, the title of Don Quixote de la Manche. They started at one p.m. and descended in the ForÊt de Felmores at three p.m. They took with them provisions, cork jackets, philosophical instruments, letters, and oars, with which they fondly hoped to be able to steer their aerial craft. Their voyage is thus commemorated in contemporary song— "Their ballast being expended, near to the sea descended, On November 7, 1836, the feat was again essayed and was very successful. Mr. Green, a veteran aeronaut, Mr. Monck Mason, and Mr. Holland, ascended from Vauxhall at 1.26 p.m. In the car were upwards of a ton of ballast, several gallons of brandy and wine, and a large supply of coffee, cold fowls, ham, etc. There were also a supply of blue lights, stars, and other fireworks, to be let down at night if the voyage were not accomplished before dark, in order to enable the aeronauts to reconnoitre the country from their elevation, and choose the point of their descent, and a number of parachutes, to which letters were fastened, to be dropped at intervals, for the purpose of apprising the public of their transit, arrival, and safety. They were, moreover, furnished with passports from the French and Dutch embassies, and with a letter to the King of Holland from his representative in this country. The balloon landed in perfect safety at a village called Weilburg, in Nassau, at 6.30 next morning, after a prosperous voyage of seventeen hours, having traversed a space equal to about 480 English miles. Of course they were made a great fuss of. The use of the ducal manÈge was immediately tendered for the occupation of the balloon, and military sentries, more as a guard of honour than for defence, were posted at the gates and avenues leading to the The illustrations of ladies' dress include two walking dresses as well as an indoors and evening dress. It will be noted that the very graceful scarf was introduced in this year. (See preceding page.) |
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