When William IV. Was King :: CHAPTER XXII. 1837

CHAPTER XXII. 1837

Epidemic of influenza — A scene in some Metropolitan graveyards — Lord de Ros and his cheating at cards — Invention of sewing machine — Coming of age of Princess Victoria — Illuminations, etc. — The Spitalfield's silk weavers' ball — Illness of the King — His death and burial.

This year opens dismally with influenza in a most virulent form. To give some idea of its ravages, let me quote the Standard of January 12th—

"The epidemic now raging has been seriously injurious both to public and private business. On Saturday ninety clerks were absent from the Bank of England, but on Tuesday the absentees amounted to a hundred and thirty. At the Post Office, Custom House, and Excise Office, as well as the Government Offices at Somerset House and Whitehall, and at all the theatres, similar inconvenience is daily felt, from the illness of the clerks and others employed. Nor is the evil resulting to business from the effects of this epidemy confined to public establishments. Upwards of sixty men have been absent from the brewery of Messrs. Barclay and Perkins within the last few days; the same number from Maudslay's the engineers, in the Westminster Bridge Road; seventeen from the warehouse and shop of Ellis on Ludgate Hill; twenty from Hitchcock and Rogers'; and as great a number from Shoolbred's. Indeed, so much has the influenza prevailed in some quarters, that whole families have been laid up, their business entirely suspended, and their shops closed; such is the case with a shop in the Minories, and also with a public house in the neighbourhood of Grafton Street, Gower Street." On the 16th the same paper tells us of three judges and many members of the bar incapable of work through this cause—and also that, within the last fortnight, sixty-four of the pensioners in Greenwich Hospital had died of the complaint; but the scene on Sunday, January 22nd, as reported in the Times and the Annual Register, seems to have been very bad—

"Death had a high day in the metropolis last Sunday; and, perhaps, in the memory of the oldest inhabitant, such a scene has not been witnessed. There was scarcely an undertaker unemployed, and many were unable to accomplish their orders. Hearses and mourning coaches were to be seen driving through the streets, hurrying from the execution of one funeral to the commencement of another. Walking funerals were met at almost every corner of the public streets, and many who had ordered carriages were unable to procure them, and were compelled to wade through the dirt and wet on foot. The churchyards seemed to be all bustle and confusion. The principal interments took place in the parishes of St. Pancras, Marylebone, St. Giles's, Clerkenwell, Whitechapel, Bethnal Green, and St. Margaret's and St. John's Westminster. It is computed that not less than a thousand burials must have taken place on Sunday, and when it is considered that the number of parishes in and around the metropolis is near two hundred, the calculation does not seem to be an exaggerated one.

"In the churchyards of St. Pancras and St. Giles the scenes were truly awful, and even disgusting to the feelings. The burial ground in the former had more the appearance of a ploughed field; furrows from the graves were turned up all over the place, and such was the scene between three and four o'clock, that not less than between forty and fifty interments took place, the undertakers scarce knowing which grave to go to. Groups of mourners, with corpses waiting, in every part, for the clergyman to take his turn in performing the funeral service; then the horrid manner of the grave-diggers (navigators, who seemed hired for the purpose), their awful language, and careless manner of filling in the graves, jumping and stamping on the coffins—such a sight, indeed, was enough to appal the hardest heart. Some of the mourners had actually to wait upwards of an hour before their relatives could be interred.

"The epidemic seems not only to have been destructive in its own natural form, but, at Guy's Hospital, in the wards, where a free circulation of air existed, it has, in many instances, run into bronchitis and pneumonia, and has even induced severe symptoms of typhoid or yellow fever, in all which cases, it is easy to guess what were the consequences. So very fatal, indeed, has it proved in this way, that the managers of several hospitals have set apart wards exclusively for patients with influenza. Dr. Johnson, at the last meeting of the Westminster Medical Society, stated that it has been far more violent in its character, and universal in its extent, than the epidemic of 1833."

At the Court of King's Bench Lord Denman and a jury spent the 9th and 10th of February in trying an action for libel brought by Lord de Ros, the premier Baron of England, against a Mr. Cumming, who had accused his lordship of cheating at cards. The trial excited the greatest interest, and was attended by most of the nobility and members of good clubs.

It was charged against Lord de Ros that, at the whist table, he frequently contrived to have a violent fit of coughing when his deal came round, which obliged him to put his hands under the table; and then it always happened that he turned up an honour; and that the aces and kings in the packs Lord de Ros played with were frequently marked, slightly, but perceptibly, with the thumb-nail. Many gentlemen swore to their having been cheated by these tricks, and some refused to play with Lord de Ros; and, though others did not shun him after his cheating had been discovered, they sent him anonymous notes of warning, and hoped that he had left off cheating. The play of these gentlemen was sometimes very high, and one of them, Mr. Brook Greville, admitted that he had made £35,000 by play; another, Captain Alexander, said that he was a "better man by £10,000 for card playing."

On the part of Lord de Ros, it was stated that he had a stiffness in his finger-joints, which prevented him from playing tricks with cards, though he could cut and shuffle them. But Sir William Ingleby swore to the repeated frauds of the peer. He had seen him fifty times perform the trick called "sauter la coupe;" which, in effect, was to cut the cards so as always to turn up an ace or a king when he dealt. Several witnesses proved that the aces and kings of the packs with which Lord de Ros had played were marked. The persons who gave evidence against Lord de Ros were, generally, professed gamblers; but no evidence was adduced to prove that they had any spite against his lordship, or that any conspiracy had been formed to ruin him. There never was a clearer case against any delinquent; and the jury took only fifteen minutes to determine upon their verdict, which was in favour of the defendant. This was equivalent to the conviction of Lord de Ros of cheating at cards, and he took the very prudent step of leaving England that night for Rotterdam.

People are apt to consider that the sewing machine is an invention of our own time. But the Times of March 8th says otherwise—

"A master tailor of Amsterdam, named Weiland, a German by birth, has invented a machine which performs the task of sewing a garment as well as it can be done by hand. The King of Holland has just presented him with one hundred ducats, but the tailors have vowed vengeance against him."

The old King felt his health failing him, and his fervent wish was to live until the Princess Victoria was of age. As Greville writes, May 23rd—

"The King prayed that he might live till the Princess Victoria was of age, and he was very nearly dying just as the event arrived. He is better, but supposed to be in a very precarious state. There has been a fresh squabble between Windsor and Kensington about a proposed allowance to the Princess."

The King's present to the Princess, on her birthday, was a magnificent grand pianoforte by Broadwood, of the value of two hundred guineas.

The coming of age of the Princess, on May 24th, was kept with festivity throughout the kingdom, but especially at Kensington. At six a.m. the union jack was hoisted on the summit of the old church, and also on the green opposite the palace. At this latter place it was surmounted by a splendid flag of white silk, on which was inscribed, in sky blue letters, the Princess's name "Victoria." From the houses of the principal inhabitants of the High Street were also displayed the royal standard, union jack, and other flags of all colours and dimensions. Soon after six, the gates of Kensington Gardens were thrown open to the public, and it having got wind that her Royal Highness would be serenaded at seven (the hour when she was born) the place was thronged with a large assemblage of well-dressed people.

As early as nine a.m. visitors arrived to enter their names in the Duchess of Kent's book, and during the whole day, up to a late hour in the evening, the palace was crowded with company, so much so, that they were obliged to leave it by another gate. Their Royal Highnesses received their household at half-past twelve, and the following members of the royal family at two: the Princess Sophia, the Princess Sophia Matilda, the Princess Augusta, and the Duke of Sussex. In the course of the afternoon the Duchess of Kent, the Princess Victoria, and the Princess of Leinengen drove through the parks in an open carriage.

At night a State ball was given at St. James's Palace, the Princess Augusta receiving the company on the part of the Queen. The ball opened with a quadrille, the Princess Victoria being led off by Lord Fitzalan, eldest son of the Earl of Surrey, and grandson of the Duke of Norfolk. Her Royal Highness subsequently danced with Prince Nicolas Esterhazy, son of the Austrian ambassador.

The following is the Times account of the celebration of the birthday in London:—

"Yesterday being the anniversary upon which the heiress presumptive to the throne of these realms attained the age of eighteen, considerable expectation had been raised amongst the holiday seekers and sightseers of the metropolis that the day would be celebrated by military displays, reviews, and those attractions usually put forward on those occasions. Early in the morning dense crowds were seen wending their way from all parts of the metropolis, in the direction of Hyde Park, in anticipation that their 'weary walk' would be remunerated by one of those displays of military manoeuvres which, in times of peace, delight those who wish to live at ease, and in the reality of which so many Britons have participated, to the honour, the glory, and the best interests of the land that gave them birth. So general was the anticipation that such would commence the festivities of the day, that crowds of artisans who had proceeded towards the usual scene of action at an early hour, were followed towards the same arena by vehicles of every description conveying their fellow-subjects, who, though more wealthy, were equally devoted to loyalty and amusement. Great was the disappointment when hour after hour passed and brought no military relief to the greensward, and eventually the multitude assembled diverged homewards, or proceeded in search of other attractions. It is proper to state that, at the dawn of day, salutes were fired from the ordnance depÔts of the metropolis, and to this only was the military display confined.

"In the evening the principal streets of the City and West End were most brilliantly illuminated, and, the weather being fine, the crowds of eager spectators who had been disappointed early in the day rendered the streets impassable. The club houses in Pall Mall, St. James's Street, and elsewhere, were elegantly and most appropriately illuminated, with one solitary exception—the Reform club house in Pall Mall, in front of which was exhibited the word "Victoria" in variegated lamps. Some wags doubted the propriety of this display, and, looking at the Parliamentary events of the preceding night, were sceptical as to the fitness of the word at such a moment. It was, however, questioned by some bystanders whether the display was designed as a compliment to the heiress presumptive, or had reference to the "mighty triumph" of the pseudo Liberals in the House of Commons on the recent division.[20] Whatever was the intention of the parties by whose direction the exhibition was made, it is beyond doubt that the word 'Victoria' was, in that view, as much laughed at as though an insignificant 'Five' had blazoned forth in all the arrogance of conquest.

"Though the illuminations were by no means general, yet the tradespeople of the Royal Family manifested devoted loyalty and considerable taste in the displays they made. It would be invidious to the parties, and uninteresting to our readers, to describe the numerous devices and their localities. The task must be indefinite, and it must, therefore, content the curious to know that the brilliancy of the illumination, the taste displayed, and the good humour which manifested itself in all directions, made some considerable amends to the disappointment of the holiday folk in the morning. Densely as the streets were thronged (and we never saw them more so), we heard of no accident having occurred—a fact which was rendered the more remarkable by the total absence of anything like police arrangements as to the passage of carriages through the principal and most attractive of the streets. On the whole, however, the day passed off wonderfully well, and a late hour of the night saw thousands home, who were highly delighted with the sights they had seen."

Fraser's Magazine for June had a rather smart sonnet on that majority of five, called

"June Sonnet.

"Good was the omen on th' auspicious night
When kept was fair Victoria's natal day—
London in gas, and oil, and tallow gay,
Looked a vast isle of artificial light:
Anchors and crowns, and roses beaming bright;
Stars, garters, and triangles, shone around:
Lions and unicorns all chained and crowned,
And other blazonings—yellow, green, red, white—
Dazzled the air. But, more delighted, we
Welcomed one blazing letter everywhere
Playing a double duty. Hail, great V!
V! Ministerial sad majority—
Mark of the unhappy Five! with grim despair
Did Melbourne and his men that symbol see.'

The next thing of interest was "The Spitalfields Silk Weavers Ball," held on June 1st, at the King's Theatre. After the Edict of Nantes, nearly fifty thousand French artisans and manufacturers fled into England, and the silk weavers located themselves at Spitalfields and Bethnal Green. At this time their trade was very bad, and there was much distress among them. This being represented to the King and Queen, they commanded that a ball should be given at the King's Theatre for the benefit of the weavers, and at which their Majesties intended to attend. All the feminine portion of the royal family and the principal ladies of the nobility were patronesses, and a royal command was given that no ladies should appear dressed in other than satin or silk of Spitalfields manufacture, and that those gentlemen who were not attired in military or naval uniforms should wear fancy waistcoats of the same fabric.

The theatre was specially and beautifully decorated for the occasion; the front of the boxes were hung in festoons of satin and silk (all of Spitalfields manufacture), the grand tier being purple, with the badge and insignia of the Order of the Garter; the second tier crimson, with the badge and insignia of the Order of the Bath; the third tier light blue, with the badge and insignia of the Order of St. Patrick; the fourth tier green, with the badge and insignia of the Order of St. Andrew; and the fifth tier light blue, with the badge and insignia of the Guelphic Order. Five of the centre boxes were thrown into one, and a large projecting balcony erected for the reception of the royal visitors, and two boxes on either side for the accommodation of members of the household. The pit was boarded over and made even with the stage.

Weippert's band of sixty-four performers formed the orchestra. Mr. Kendon, dancing-master to the Princess Victoria, acted as master of the ceremonies, and special precautions were taken to prevent the admission of improper characters. With that view the patrons and patronesses gave vouchers to those who were anxious to be present, which were afterwards exchanged by Mr. Willis, of Almack's, for the regular tickets of admission, of which about 2300 were sold. Not a seat was empty, and the ball was a decided success.

Neither the King nor the Queen were able to attend, for the poor old man was moribund. A slight decline of strength had been perceptible to the immediate attendants of the King at the commencement of the year, but it was not till the month of May that the state of his Majesty's health excited any serious apprehensions. On the 17th of that month he held a levee, but, on his return to Windsor Castle, he showed great signs of debility and exhaustion, with oppression of breathing, in consequence of which he had considerable difficulty in ascending the staircase; and when he had reached the corridor was under the necessity of resting on the nearest sofa. He tried to keep up as well as he could, but on June 7th his physicians found him much worse. On June 8th his illness was noticed in the "Court Circular," with a notice that the state entertainment intended to have been given at the castle to the knights of the several orders was indefinitely postponed; indeed, on that day, in obedience to the Queen's wishes, the party staying at the castle dispersed.

Day after day he grew worse, with just a little flutter of improvement when the Waterloo memorial flag was presented to him, when he expressed himself as glad to see it, and begged the Duke of Wellington to be told that he desired the Waterloo banquet to be held as usual, and hoped it would be an agreeable dinner. He gradually sunk until June 20th, when the following bulletin was issued:—

"Windsor Castle, Tuesday, June 20.

"It has pleased Almighty God to release from his sufferings our most gracious sovereign, King William the Fourth. His Majesty expired this morning at twelve minutes past two o'clock.

"Matt. John Tierney.
"Wm. Fred Chambers.
"David Davies."

Death came to him so gently, that some doubt existed as to the precise moment at which he actually did expire. The stroke of death was almost imperceptible.

He lay in state on July 7th in the Waterloo Chamber at Windsor Castle, and the public were admitted to see him from ten till four. The next day—or rather on the night of the 8th—he was buried, with all the pomp and the solemnity usual on such occasions, in a vault in St. George's Chapel.

The dresses for 1837 are two walking-dresses and a ball dress, and also a child's costume, with different fashions of hairdressing.

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