CHAPTER XI

QUEEN VICTORIA’S TRAGIC MISTAKE

“It is really horrible that any family should be reduced to thank God for _the blessing_ of depriving them of one of its dearest members.”--_Lady Sophia Hastings._

“I think everyone should _own_ their fault in a kind way to anyone, be he or she the lowest--if one has been rude to or injured them by word or deed, especially those below you. People will readily forget an insult or an injury when others _own_ their fault, and express sorrow or regret at what they have done.”--_Queen Victoria._

It was in 1839 that the most sad and regrettable event in the personal story of Queen Victoria’s reign took place, the affair known as the Lady Flora Hastings Scandal. Lady Flora, who was the eldest daughter of the Marquis of Hastings and of Lady Hastings--Countess of Loudoun in her own right--had been Lady in Waiting to the Duchess of Kent since 1834. Her name occurs as attending the Duchess at all Royal functions, and there was a feeling of real affection between her mistress and herself. In 1839 she was thirty-three years of age, a woman who had proved her uprightness and sincerity, yet, because of dissension at Court, because of the curious friction between the Queen and her mother, she was subjected to the bitterest calumnies.

Ever since her accession the gulf between the Queen and the Duchess had been widening, and there can be little doubt that Lehzen on the one hand and Conroy on the other were the people who, willingly or otherwise, were the cause of this. Victoria seems to have put the Baroness so high in her regard as to give her the place which the Duchess, with every justice and right, should have held. This was shown publicly as well as privately, for I have seen a paragraph in one paper of the day, that is to say of January, 1839, commenting upon the fact that the Queen had been three times to the theatre, accompanied on each occasion by the Baroness Lehzen, but not at all by the Duchess. The two Royal ladies lived, it is true, in the same house, and the Queen’s mother attended the Royal dinner table, and sat in the drawing-room afterwards with her daughter’s guests; but beyond that they were drifting towards a real and painful separation. The stories of Lehzen’s rudeness to the Duchess were not without foundation, and her spite against the Conroy family had in no way abated; thus, as Lady Flora was friendly with the Conroys and was regarded as one of the “set” around the Duchess she also was not much in favour.

In all quarrels there is some exaggeration, and some imagination as well as some truth; there is also generally great difficulty in justly deciding who is to blame; therefore it was only natural at the time that there should have been many who believed the calumnies against Lady Flora in spite of all the evidence in her favour. But to-day it is quite certain that she is fully exculpated, that she alone comes out of the trouble with honour.

Lady Flora returned from Scotland early in the year to her duties about the Duchess, feeling very unwell; so much so that she consulted Sir James Clark, physician both to the Duchess and to Her Majesty. The medical treatment and the exercise prescribed did her good, the swelling in her body subsided, and she thought she would soon be quite well. But this enlargement of her figure had given rise to a certain suspicion in the mind of the physician, which he was not man enough to mention delicately or professionally to his patient. He thought about it first, and then went to Lady Portman, one of the Queen’s ladies in waiting, and told her what he believed. Hearing such a thing from the doctor who had been in attendance upon Lady Flora made the suggestion a fact to Lady Portman.

The story goes that she confided in Lady Tavistock, who thought it her duty to repeat the information to Lord Melbourne, and eventually some or all of them laid the matter before the Queen. What share Baroness Lehzen bore in this little plot--for the way in which it was guarded from the persons really interested gave it the semblance of a plot--it is not easy to say, but later she was accused of being the centre of offence. It is probable that advice was all she tendered, but if that is so it was very bad advice, and it led the young Queen, who should have been above all meannesses, to do that which should and did cost her passionate regret and many tears. In the first instance, she was impulsively harsh and suspicious; when it was proved that there was no cause for either harshness or suspicion, she was just as repentant and eager to make amends. But when in the bitterly disturbed state of society the scandal grew out of hand and some signal mark was needed from her to clear Lady Flora’s honour, all her kindliness froze. She would neither take the blame nor allot it, but treated the whole affair with a stony silence. This was a terrible mistake! If only she could have put into practice the bravery of her own words, quoted at the head of this chapter, how much better it would have been!

Once the idea of Lady Flora’s indiscretion was in Her Majesty’s mind, her only, absolutely her only, honourable course would have been either to see Lady Flora herself, or, if that seemed too difficult, to consult her mother, the Duchess of Kent. But the Queen was so blinded by her advisers or by her prejudices that she took the whole matter into her own hands, and sent Sir James Clark to interview Lady Flora. The following is part of a letter written about Lady Flora on March 7th by the Marchioness of Hastings to her son-in-law, Captain Charles Henry.

[Illustration: LADY FLORA HASTINGS.]

“Sir James Clark, shocking to tell, accused her of being privately married, and you can imagine her indignation and horror. She flatly denied it, and then this ambassador said that nothing but a medical examination by himself and another would ‘clear her character and satisfy the ladies of the Court.’ From her he went to the Duchess (of Kent), who resented the insult instantly. He was followed by Lady Portman, who was deputed by the Queen to desire she would not appear before her till ‘her character was cleared’ by this most revolting proposal. The dear, dear Duchess could not make up her mind to this; Flora desired it. Two persons have been named as those suspected of her shame, Sir John Conroy, who has been like a father in his care of her, and Lord Headfort, evidently as a cloak to the attempt which was to separate Flora and the Duchess’s old and attached servant from her. Flora persisted, and the Speaker (?) and Sir John Conroy both said she was right, and the Duchess at last gave a reluctant consent. Flora named Sir Charles Clarke in addition, and the strongest medical opinion he and Sir James Clark could sign was given, to the confoundation of those wicked persons who could so act. Flora wrote to Hastings (her brother), who went up alone, and has behaved with a judgment and spirit which is a cheer to me in so much misery. He went to Lord Melbourne, and insisted on his thorough disavowal of having anything to do with it; and asked an audience of the Queen. Lord Melbourne at first refused, but Hastings insisted, and Hastings very respectfully but very decidedly pointed out to Her Majesty the fallacy of such advisers, ‘be they who they may,’ who could recommend such a course to her. Sorry am I to say Lady Tavistock does not stand clear of wickedness and vile gossip at least, but Lady Portman took the messages, after _a man_ was sent to make the base attack on my poor child. The Duchess kept by her, and refused till ample reparation was made to go either to dinner or in the evening. To-morrow I will send you part of her dear letter about my darling Flo. I dare add no more. The Queen sent for Flora, the tears were in her eyes (I am glad they were so), and expressed her sorrow. She (Flora) took it rightly, but added, ‘I must respectfully observe, Madam, I am the first, and I trust I shall be the last, Hastings ever so treated by their Sovereign. I was treated as if guilty without a trial.’ She took it very well, and has been markedly kind to her since. Sir James Clark has been dismissed by the Duchess.”

This letter from the Duchess of Kent was sent to the Countess of Loudoun:--

“Buckingham Palace, _5th March, 1839_.”

“MY DEAR LADY HASTINGS,

“Our beloved Lady Flora will tell you all the dreadful things that have occurred here; I will only say that no mother could have defended a daughter more than I have done her. She is of all her sex that being that most deserves it, and she stands on the highest ground. This attack, my dear Lady Hastings, was levelled at me through your innocent child. But God spared us!

“Believe me, the hour will come when the Queen will see and feel what she has been betrayed into. When your first feeling of indignation subsides, for mine knew no bounds, you will in your nobleness of soul view with scorn all these proceedings. I cannot say more. I have stood by your child and your house as if all was my own. Believe me, with the truest affection and esteem,

“Your devoted friend, “VICTORIA.”

Lady Flora’s first letter on this matter, written to her sister and brother-in-law, runs as follows:--

“MY DEAR CHARLES AND SELINA,

“Though I know neither of you would ever believe (were the Angel Gabriel to reveal it to you) anything evil of old Flo, I must not let you hear from others the horrible conspiracy from which it has pleased God to preserve me. It is evidently got up by Lehzen, who has found willing tools in Ladies Tavistock and Portman and Sir James Clark; evidently ultimately directed against the Duchess (of Kent), though primarily against me. The means employed were to blacken my character, and represent me to be--I can scarce write the words!--with child! I have no time for particulars to-day, but will write you fully to-morrow. I have come out gloriously. I underwent as they demanded, and the Queen urged by them did also, the most rigid medical examination, and have the fullest certificate of my innocence, signed by Sir James Clark and Sir Charles Clarke. My Duchess could not have been kinder had she been my mother; she is one of the noblest of human beings--Hastings came to town instantly and behaved like an angel, with such judgment and affection! All my real friends have been very true to me and very kind to me. I would not write thus hurriedly, but I hear it has reached the Clubs, and I fear your learning it from another source, and being anxious about me. It made me very ill for two or three days, I was so shocked and shattered. The poor Queen was sadly misled in the business; she did not know what she did and sanctioned; she is very sorry. I hear at the Clubs they have named two or three names with mine; one is poor Sir John Conroy’s. How infamous. No one, thank God, however, is disposed to think ill of our father and mother’s child, nor has my conduct been such as to encourage evil thoughts of me, and I am told people are vehement at the insult I have received.”

Lady Flora complained of the way in which this examination was conducted, and her maid, who was present, spoke of the roughness and indecency shown. Later, when she was delirious, she accused the doctors who attended her of saying she was like a married woman. During the preliminaries Sir Charles Clarke, a specialist in midwifery, said kindly, “Lady Flora’s answers are so satisfactory that we need proceed no further,” to which “that brute, Sir James Clark” (to quote from Lady Sophia) answered, “If Lady Flora is so sure of her innocence, she can have no objection to what is proposed.”

There was little chance of keeping such an affair quiet. From club to newspaper was but a step, and by the 10th of March Lady Adelaide Hastings, a sister of Lady Flora, wrote: “It is known all over London, and _The Morning Post_, though without the names, spoke so distinctly of the whole occurrence that there is no hiding it, even were there any advantage in so doing. In the whole truth there is nothing that is not honourable to all but the Queen, her Ladies, and Sir James Clark. The Duchess (of Kent), whose conduct has been most kind and like a mother to our dear sister, and who bitterly feels the insult, dismissed him from her household immediately. He is a wretch to have allowed himself to be put forward as the tool of those base women, and as a man and a physician has acted infamously. The Queen has not yet dismissed him, but I think she must, at least if she has any regard to public opinion, which loudly calls at least for his disgrace. The Queen has been misled and duped, I think. I cannot believe that she knew all that was said in her name, or that the message Lady Portman brought us, as from her, had her real sanction. One would think nineteen was too young for a woman so to forget what was due to a mother, and to have so little regard for the feelings of one she had lived in intimacy with. You will be grieved to hear that Lord Harewood’s daughter (Lady Portman) could have acted as Lady Portman has done, but she acted very ill. After giving the Queen’s message to Flora (and, observe, it was not till after Sir James Clark’s insulting charge), she went ‘by command’ to communicate it to the Duchess, on whose saying, ‘She knew Flora and her family too well to listen to such an imputation of that kind on her,’ Lady Portman insisted on asserting it, as Flora says in her letter, ‘with a degree of pertinacity amounting to violence.’ The Duchess refused to see her again. The Duchess wrote Mamma a letter full of affection for Flora, and praise of her conduct, and evidently bitterly feeling the Queen’s conduct. She came and sat with Flora in her room that evening to try and comfort her, and has indeed all along been most affectionate, but it is a sad thing to feel that because they are so faithful to her, her friend and servant must be exposed to indignity from her daughter. It was the 16th of last month this took place. The Duchess and Flora stayed in her own apartments for a week, as she said she would not associate with the rest of the inhabitants of the Palace, till proper apologies had been made. She was then induced to receive their ample apologies, as the Minister (the Duke of Wellington,[5] who Flora says has behaved kindly and like a good soldier) represented that it would injure the Queen if she held out any longer.”

So far as this the matter was a most unhappy mistake, caused by gossip and uncharitableness on the part of some, and by ignorance and an unnatural prejudice on the part of the Queen. Had Victoria taken some means, in addition to that of expressing her sorrow, of showing that the blame was on her side, things would have smoothed down, and we might never have heard of the affair. But she did nothing. The watching public began to grow curious; if neither the doctor nor the two ladies were sufficiently to blame to warrant dismissal, had there been some truth in the charge after all? it not unnaturally asked. The two following extracts from letters written by Lady Sophia Hastings show the next stage of the scandal. They are hard and revengeful, and give an impression of being the reflex of the prevailing bitter political agitation as much as the result of the injury to the family.

“---- have given up Sir James Clark as their physician, and many medical men have refused to meet him in consultation, as they, and Sir Henry Halford among them, say he has cast an odium on the profession. I hear they cried out, either in the Park or in the Theatre, to the Queen, ‘Dismiss Lady Portman,’ and on Saturday she was hissed in the Park. I hope this may bring her to her senses, and make her give up the unfit people who are about her. The Royal Family have felt very properly about this. Princess Sophia sent Mamma a message through Dr. Doyle, who had seen her, expressive of her sympathy, and the Duchess of Gloucester spoke in the same way, both reprobating the conduct of the Queen. Even Lord Melbourne’s friends say, ‘It was a great oversight not to dismiss Sir James Clark.’ The report is, _he_ says, ‘they dare not dismiss him for fear of his telling things.’”

Again: “I am so angry with the whole pack. As long as they thought they could keep matters quiet, and hide their own disgrace, they were all so amiable, and the Queen so gracious to Flora. Since her family have resented the affront, Her Majesty takes no notice, pays her not the slightest attention for weeks, till after she was so ill she had two medical men attending her for days, Her Majesty sends to inquire for her. The child’s notice is worth nothing, but it shows the disgusting meanness of the clique. Lady Tavistock keeps _rubbing against_ Flora at parties, following her, and trying to force herself on her acquaintance. None of them appear _in the least_ sensible of the generous forbearance which has spared their public disgrace and conviction for the sake of their families. They go on as if _they_ were injured. Oh, how I hate them!”

This attitude of the Queen, who was evidently determined that she would dismiss no one, and do nothing that would satisfy the public that Lady Flora was innocent, and who resented the demand upon her that she should do so as much as the Hastings resented the charge made against a member of their family, led to very bad results. Before the end of March gossip had but one theme, and that was the probable guilt of Lady Flora Hastings. The talk was not confined to London; Paris, Brussels, and Vienna were discussing the matter with interest; so much so that Captain Hamilton FitzGerald, who had married Lady Charlotte Rawdon, sister of the late Marquis of Hastings, wrote a letter to _The Examiner_, which was copied into all the other papers. It was a temperate, fair, and clear account of what had taken place, throwing no imputation upon anyone; and it included the following paragraph about Victoria: “Lady Flora is convinced that the Queen was surprised into the order which was given, and that Her Majesty did not understand what she was betrayed into; for, ever since the horrid event, Her Majesty has shown her regret by the most gracious kindness to Lady Flora, and expressed it warmly, with ‘tears in her eyes.’”

Captain FitzGerald was considerably blamed by various people for this letter, so much so that two months later--an evidence of the continuance of the scandal, which had by that time assumed very serious proportions--he wrote a second and a third letter, which he sent to the Marchioness of Hastings, as well as copies to Flora Hastings’ brother, begging that they should be shown to everyone interested. They ran as follows:--

“Brussels, _May 30th, 1839_.

“I have been blamed by so many people for having made (as they say) an unnecessary exposure of the outrage inflicted on Lady Flora Hastings at Buckingham Palace that I think it necessary to explain why I published a narrative of the principal facts attending it. I was living at Brussels when it occurred; everyone there knew of it before I did. On the 13th of March I received a letter from England giving me a minute detail of what had happened, from which I thought there could not be a doubt of her innocence, and that her brother had fully done his duty. I was soon undeceived. Letters poured in upon me from all quarters containing the same injurious reports. I found that Lord Hastings’ proceedings were unknown, except in his own circle, and at Buckingham Palace; that he was abused in the London Clubs for not having acted with sufficient spirit, and that infamous stories were circulated about his sister, under the old plea of propagating lies with strictest injunctions to secrecy. Everyone except her own family are acquainted with them. Whenever I tried to trace them to their source,

I was met by the same answer: ‘I cannot give up my authority, and I must beg of you not to quote me, but I assure you the report is very generally believed.’ It was said that the present was at least the second error, as when she left Buckingham Palace last year she was certainly pregnant. Bets were laid on the time when her situation would force her to ‘bolt’ from the Palace! At Vienna it was believed on the 15th of March that she had remained an hour on her knees begging mercy of the Queen, and that Lord Hastings having, as a Peer, forced his way into the Royal presence, had upbraided Her Majesty, who made him no answer, but curtsied and retired when his tirade was over! I immediately went to England; when I arrived in London I found all these reports in circulation. Lady Flora’s family were not in town, and the generality of indifferent people were inclined to believe them. The known fact that no one of the Queen’s household had been punished for the insult she had received seemed to say that the Government did not think her assailants deserved punishment, or, in other words, that she had not been ill-treated by them. The inference from which was, that she had been favoured and spared from motives of humanity. Nothing seemed to me to prevent the complete establishment of this opinion, but the prompt punishment which the Duchess of Kent had inflicted on Sir James Clark by dismissing him from Her Royal Highness’s household. I landed in the City, and remained there many days to ascertain what judgment the respectable and unprejudiced citizens had passed on the case. I consulted with many persons, and by their assistance was present at many discussions held by people who did not know me, at those respectable houses where men of business pass their evenings, and discuss the news and speculations. I found public opinion was universally against Lady Flora. The general idea was that ‘she had been treated with unnecessary harshness,’ that she ‘should have been got quietly out of the way,’ that ‘such things occurred every day in palaces, people who place their daughters in them must take the consequences of doing so.’ It was often said ‘her brother would not have been so quiet if he had not known that more than he liked would have come out if the thing had not been hushed up.’ I concluded that the opinion of the people at large was the same as that of the people of London, as they were both acted on by the same fallacious evidence, anonymous statements in newspapers; and I was confirmed in my original opinion that it was the duty of Lady Flora’s family to extinguish all false reports by publishing a full statement of the case, and openly challenging contradiction. I felt that Lord Hastings could not do himself justice in publishing his own acts, and that delicacy, brotherly love, and family pride might prevent him from being sufficiently accurate and minute in stating his sister’s wrongs. I therefore determined to publish it myself.

“HAMILTON FITZGERALD.”

To the Marchioness of Hastings (Countess of Loudoun) Captain FitzGerald wrote:--

“DEAR LADY HASTINGS,--The manner in which I find myself avoided by ‘serviles’ for having exposed their infamy made it necessary for me to write my reasons for publishing. I sent Hastings a copy of it, and I now send you one. I have no idea of publishing it, unless unforeseen circumstances do not make it useful to do, but I beg of you either to show it, or give a copy of it to anyone you choose. My first was a statement of the facts, this is one of the lies of the infamous; the actors knew that Flora’s established character would show off their filth, so they tried to sap it. I have both Lady Portman’s and Lady Tavistock’s statement of their conduct. By the former it appears the doctor went _of his own accord_ to tell his suspicions to Lady Portman, and asked her opinion. This proves breach of trust, plotting, and malignity. Why, if he had suspicions, did he not go to the Duchess of Kent? No! that would have stopped his agitation. Why did Lady Portman reduce an unanswerable examination into a doubtful consultation of physicians on the state of Flora’s health? Because she knew it would have answered all the lies in circulation about former misconduct. But, bad as all this is, it is not as bad as Lady Tavistock’s conduct. She says when she heard the reports in February she wished to have spoken of them to Flora, but was prevented by circumstances, and it became her duty to tell the Prime Minister of them. What, I should like to know, prevented her speaking to Flora? It could be nothing but a combination having decided that neither Flora nor her Royal Mistress should be informed of what was going on. Lord Melbourne, having been informed of it, should either have stopped it, or informed the Duchess of it, if he believed the report. I think Lady Tavistock’s short note would convict her and Lord Melbourne before any court in London.”

Of course, these letters present the case from one side; the pity is that nothing remains in the way of evidence upon the other. The Queen seems to have thought that the private expression of her sorrow was sufficient. She did not realise, or she chose to ignore, that her very position made the matter a public one, and that the whole country was talking about and discussing the probability of Lady Flora’s guilt. Either she herself had taken too great a part in the humiliation of Lady Flora to allow herself to show displeasure to anyone without being unjust, or she was obstinately determined to do and say no more to clear her mother’s friend and servant, or she was screening one of her own people. Lady Flora’s reputation would probably have suffered all through a long life had she lived, because of the Queen’s silence and disregard, but the illness which had afflicted her early in the year returned, and she died in July.

Of this the Tories, who were, as has been said, in an excited, disaffected state, made great capital. Their papers announced the illness of Lady Flora, but ignored the mention of any specific disease; she was raised to the position of a martyr that the Queen might be the more effectually denounced. “Poor girl! the wound has not been healed, and the calumniated lady is sinking under a blow inflicted by the yet unpunished slanderers, who still seek the favour of the Sovereign in the very Palace where the victim of their fiendish and indelicate malignity is lying with breaking heart and bowed down spirit. She has borne up nobly against the flood of demonised falsehood which has been let loose upon her; now Nature can no longer sustain the contest, and the body is prostrated by the agony of the mind. We dare not trust ourselves to speak as we feel, but this we will say, that if Lady Flora Hastings die, her death will fling a blight upon the Palace, which Royal banquetings will never overcome, and regal smiles never make to pass away.”

This is but a sample of many articles and paragraphs. The Baroness Lehzen, though her name had not publicly appeared in the trouble, was regarded generally as the most obnoxious person about the Court, probably because she was never known to give counsel, and yet was believed to be always whispering in the ear of the Queen.

Lord Tavistock and Lord Portman both wrote to the papers in defence of their wives, the former denying that Lady Tavistock had taken any part in the Flora Hastings trouble; the latter asserting that Lady Portman did, on that painful occasion, neither more nor less than her duty towards the Court, towards Lady Flora Hastings herself, and towards the people of England, to whom, while in waiting upon her Sovereign, she was constitutionally responsible. Lord Portman, however, went further than this, if newspaper correspondents are to be believed. On the 3rd of April he took the chair when the Guardians of the Blandford district dined together; and on his wife’s health being drunk he in his reply alluded to Lady Flora Hastings, saying that the conduct of Lady Portman required no vindication, as a few months would testify.

With such hardness as this around her, one understands that the Queen may also have grown somewhat hard; yet even if Lady Portman did not credit the doctors’ certificate, the Queen could not have ignored it. It is only possible to think that she did not understand what the results of her own inaction must be; yet from the beginning there were many who would have echoed Greville’s biting comment on the affair had they heard it:--

“It is certain that the Court is plunged in shame and mortification at the exposure, that the Palace is full of bickerings and heart-burning, while the whole proceeding is looked upon by society at large as to the last degree disgusting and disgraceful. It is really an exemplification of the saying that kings and valets are made of the refuse clay of creation; for though such things sometimes happen in the servants’ hall, and housekeepers charge stillroom and kitchen maids with frailty, they are unprecedented and unheard-of in good society, and among people in high or even in respectable stations. It is inconceivable how Melbourne can have permitted this disgraceful and mischievous scandal, which cannot fail to lower the character of the Court in the eyes of the world. There may be objections to Melbourne’s extraordinary domiciliation in the Palace, but the compensation ought to be found in his good sense and experience preventing the possibility of such _tricasseries_ as these.”

In June, Lady Flora suffered from what was regarded as a bilious fever, from which she seemed to be recovering; but it returned, and the vomiting weakened her so much that her physician--Dr. Chambers--suggested that some relatives should come to stay with her at the Palace. So her sister, Lady Sophia, went, and was there until all was over; and so filled with bitterness was she at the treatment given to Lady Flora that she would not have a bed prepared for her, but rested when necessary on the sofa.

Lady Portman was said to be in great distress of mind during the last illness of her victim, but it was not sufficient to prevent her from amusing herself in the gay world, and she seems to have made some remarks which aggravated the injury which she had done. Lady Selina Henry, another sister, wrote while Flora was ill:--“In a letter from Sophia to me there is a speech of Lady Portman’s repeated so gross that she must be a beast; Flora says, ‘As for Ladies Tavistock and Portman, I can never open my lips to them again.’ I think she knows this horror that Lady Portman has said.”

[Illustration: LADY PORTMAN.]

Lady Tavistock seems to have felt some compunction in having interfered, for the day before Flora died her doctor received the following clumsy and ineffective note from Lord Tavistock:--

“Spring Gardens, _July 4th, 1839_.

“DEAR DR. CHAMBERS,--If you see a favourable opportunity, Lady Tavistock wishes much you would say a kind word for her to Lady F. Hastings, towards whom she has not only never harboured an unkindly thought, but has been deeply interested in her well-being. She has been greatly distressed by the cruel and unfounded attacks that have so long been made upon her in some newspapers, and it would afford her pleasure to be able to convey a message of kindness to your patient, if you think it could be done without disturbing her; but you will, of course, exercise your own judgment and discretion about naming the subject to her.--Yours truly, TAVISTOCK.”

Dr. Chambers took this letter to Lady Sophia Hastings, who returned the following answer:--

“If I would have given the message, it is now beyond her comprehension, but you may say--if it would be any consolation to Lady Tavistock--I refer her to the Bishop of London.” In telling her mother of this reply, Sophia adds, “I hear Princess Sophia was enchanted when Lady Cornwallis told her this yesterday. She is very anxious to know if anything of regret had been expressed.”

As to this matter of regret, though it was expressed for the death of Flora Hastings, it was, as far as I can find out, only once connected with any allusion to the scandal. The Queen sent for Dr. Chambers and saw him alone, though the Baroness was in the next room. Her Majesty seemed much subdued, and after thanking him for the report he had sent, expressed her sorrow that suffering had been added to bodily illness. Lady Sophia commented upon this:--

“I told him I was very glad Her Majesty should have appeared to feel, and that she had done me the honour to enquire for me this morning. The Duchess of Gloucester was very much displeased she had not done it before, tho’ I believe she sent down that sad Friday morning, when I was collecting poor Flora’s things, and I have an indistinct idea of sending some answer, or Reichenbach (Lady Flora’s maid) did for me.”

A State ball arranged for Friday, June 28th, was postponed because of “the melancholy state of Lady Flora Hastings,” and a Royal banquet arranged for July 4th, the day on which Lady Flora died, was also countermanded. The Countess of Loudoun wrote some impassioned letters to the Queen, which eventually drew from Lord Melbourne the response that the Queen had acknowledged the unhappy error to Lady Flora, and it was not intended that any other step should be taken. This decision was, most unfortunately, adhered to. It may be that Melbourne, always praised for his generosity of mind, may have urged a different course upon his Royal mistress, and that she, swayed by less wise counsels or by her own pride, would not heed him. But it seems never to have been acknowledged by the Court that the terrible publicity given to the affair, which had been eagerly seized upon in the interest of party by the Press, had altered the whole matter, and that action of some sort was imperatively demanded. Lord Melbourne, who hated rows, who was inclined to concede too much rather than too little to obtain peace, and who was one of the justest and kindest of men, must have suffered torment through this period.

If only Her Majesty had been royal enough and wise enough to have made public the affair from her point of view, and, if she shrank from ruining a man like Clark by dismissing him, have boldly said that she could not do it, this matter would not have remained to burden her thoughts with shame; but she wrapped herself in an inadequate covering of dignity, trying to believe the antiquated saying that a Queen can do no wrong. As a matter of fact, Dr. Clark entirely lost his reputation with the public over this matter, and there is something pathetic in the request Victoria made to Albert before their marriage:

“I have a request to make too, viz., that you will appoint poor Clark your physician; you need not consult him unless you wish it. It is only an honorary title, and would make him very happy.” Whether the Prince did this I do not know. To the end of the Queen’s life this tragic affair must have pained Her Majesty; and she certainly wished it to be forgotten by everyone, for never anywhere is there given any mention of it. It is ignored in most of the “lives” of Her Majesty, and every scrap of allusion to it is withdrawn from her own letters and writings; she herself later wrote of destroying most of the letters which belonged to that, “the most unsatisfactory” period of her life. It must not be forgotten that the deepest injury of all was inflicted by those who were the first to make this matter public, that is to say, by those who first reported it, for unworthy reasons, in the public Press. Many mistakes as bad as this have been made and atoned for--in private, and the sense of injury has disappeared; but when all the world knows of a shameful thing, then the atonement should be public.

When Lord Hastings paid the doctors and nurses, his money was returned with the information that handsome fees had been received. Lady Flora’s maid showed him a brooch and a banknote for £50, which she offered to put in the fire; this he advised her not to do, so she banked it. Though it is not asserted in so many words, it is implied that the Queen had taken this way of showing her compunction. The presents to the maid had been conveyed to her through Viscountess Forbes. Lady Sophia, anxious as she was all through to show the keenness of her resentment, secured another note of the same amount, put it in an envelope, and returned it through the same channel. Of Lady Forbes, Sophia writes bitterly in the following letter, in which she also emphasises the painful position of the Duchess of Kent:--

“I found Dr. Chambers knew _nothing accurately_ of Sir James Clark’s conduct, so I told him the real state of the case; and as at Harewood and at Lord Tavistock’s they had not told him the facts, I did. I parted from him with more feeling of regret than I did from anyone else. I saw the poor Duchess of Kent, who is ‘floored,’ I think. She was very kind to me, and about all of us; but she is beat down, she can fight no longer, and she will soon be completely under orders. I saw Fanny Forbes (Viscountess Forbes) and cleared my mind to her of her conduct. I cannot say that there was much good feeling in her going to the Opera every night, tho’ the Queen told her she need not; and tho’ she came in when she came back, her flighty, flirty, lively manner, just out of the world, jarred horribly with one’s feelings. When one night she came in with a _jaunty_ step, we had just kept Flora from a fainting fit, and had sent off for Mr. Merriman, as he had told us such an attack might at any time prove fatal. When Mr. M---- came I said, ‘Thank God it is only a fainting fit,’ and he said in such a melancholy way, ‘_Only_ a fainting fit, Lady Sophia, and who could tell how that might end?’ And Lady Forbes says she loved Flora like a sister, and anxiety and watching has afflicted her health! She offered to give back the hair Reichenbach gave her [after Lady Flora was dead], but will not take out that given her by the Queen. I told her that hair was probably false, as I could not trace how the Queen got it, but that she did not care for. The Duchess of Kent did _not_ give it, for I asked her.”

To remove entirely any lingering feeling of doubt, Lady Sophia caused a post-mortem examination to be made, that a definite name might be given to the illness which brought about her sister’s death, and she writes thus of it to her mother:

“I have to hope, my beloved mother, that I shall not be so unhappy as to incur your displeasure, or to have added to your agony, but if it be, on me be the blame, for no one suggested it to me. I proposed it to Hastings, and indeed it was due to the medical men who have been so very attentive, and that was an ‘examination.’ It took place at 6 o’clock yesterday evening, as late as it was possible. One was proposed, but Chambers would put it off to a later hour. I left her at once when he came, having wished her good-bye, and put round her neck the locket with your and Papa’s hair, and I said that I trusted to him that it remained there. He burst into tears, and promised me. John remained the whole time out of respect while the surgeons were there, and it was only a slight operation, no uncovering, nothing to wound the feelings, not so bad as Sir James Clark. She was merely uncovered over her stomach, as if it were a wound in her side. John put the locket on her the last thing with his own hands, and he, Charles, and Hastings are at the Palace every night and day, and Reichenbach and the nurse sit up. _Every_ respect is shown. God bless you. I am late.”

There were five doctors present at the examination, Drs. Chambers, Holland, and Merriman, Sir A. Cooper and Sir B. Brodie. The last officiated, and it was found that Flora Hastings died from enlargement of the liver, which, pressing downwards, produced enlargement of the abdomen and inflammation.

It was curious that _The Times_, then devoted to Tory influence, should have struck a different note from the other Tory papers, and have asked, somewhat pertinently, though much to the anger of the Hastings family, “Did the Ladies of the Bedchamber cause the liver complaint of which Lady Flora Hastings died?”

The death of the maligned lady brought public indignation up to fever-heat, and the Queen wisely remained in her Palace, for to be hissed in the street is worse than to be forced to sit silently under a parson who has licence to outrage all one’s cherished ideas. At the Opera one night someone asked the box-keeper if Her Majesty would be present, and the man replied:

“Oh, no; she dare not come!”

As for the Ministry, it was deeply depressed at the whole occurrence, and Lady Cowper told someone that her brother, Lord Melbourne, felt that its tragic ending was the worst blow the Government had so far received.

Lady Flora was buried at Loudoun by her own wish, for she had said, “I do not think I shall ever look upon Loudoun again, and I wish to be taken there. Under other circumstances I should have said, ‘let the tree lie where it falls,’ but as it is I wish to lie there.”

At four o’clock in the morning of Wednesday, July 12th, the coffin was removed from Buckingham Palace. The Guards and Life Guards were under arms all Tuesday night and Wednesday morning to show respect to the dead woman, but there was also a tremendous body of police, who accompanied the sad procession as far as Temple Bar, where they gave place to the City police. This was done, Sophia Hastings was told, to prevent the Queen’s carriage from being pulled to pieces, of which she says, “which I never expected.” The fact that the Royal carriage was to follow was kept so secret that the rest of the Royal family did not know what to do. The whole matter had been so turned to party uses that they did not like to show this public mark of respect if the Queen did not set the example. The Duchess of Gloucester found out in time, and she vexed the Duke of Cambridge very much by not letting him know. Princess Sophia was the only one who followed her own wishes irrespective of the actions of her niece, saying contemptuously of the others that they were but timeservers to care what the Queen did.

Though the hour of the start had been given as six, there was a great and silent crowd collected to watch the carriages pass at four o’clock, hats being lifted all along the route. Many comments of a strong nature were uttered; thus one respectable-looking man pointed with his stick to Her Majesty’s carriage, saying, “What is the use of her gilded trumpery after she has killed her?” A policeman hearing this, went up and looked the man in the face, probably hoping to recognise or to remember him. Another man was heard to say, “Ah, there’s the victim, but where’s the murderer?” Sophia Hastings, who retailed these incidents with relish, said of the drive through London: “Not one thing pained me; the feeling was respect to her, and compassionate respect to myself, and total absence of bustle, noise, or any confusion. Even at the wharf you might have felt in a chapel, and I am told many were disappointed” (probably that there was no disturbance).

The following letter was sent by the Duchess of Kent, three weeks after the calamity, to Lady Selina Henry:--

“Buckingham Palace, _July 27th, 1839_.

“MY DEAR LADY SELINA,--My servant returned only the day before yesterday, or I would have written to you sooner to enquire how your excellent mother was after that most sad ceremony. I feel quite sure it is not necessary I should tell you how sincerely I felt for her, for you, and your sisters on that melancholy day. Also your poor sister Sophia; I fear she was very unwell on that day. Your and my severe loss appears to me still a dream! Alas! a very painful dream. I shall be very much obliged to you and your sister Adelaide to let me know how you are all. I heard from your dear sister Sophia to-day that your mother is still at Loudoun. I hope she will soon be able to go near the sea. Be so good as to give her my most affectionate regards, also to remember me most kindly to your sister, and to give my compliments to Captain Henry, who I am sorry I did not see before I left town. I was really not in a state to see him. Your dear sister Sophia was not very well when she left town, but I hope the change of air and scene will be very beneficial to her. I hope, my dear Lady Selina, you will not quite forget the friend of our beloved Flora, and believe me always to remain,

“Your very sincere friend, VICTORIA.”

Lady Hastings died six months after her daughter. Sir James Clark did his best to prove himself innocent of all harshness and indiscretion, but the attempt was not very satisfactory. He retained the Queen’s favour until he died, in 1870. Lady Portman also held Her Majesty’s friendship until 1865, when her death occurred. As for Victoria, she never, as has been said, broke her silence, and something like general hatred was felt for Baroness Lehzen, who was believed to have been her adviser all through. As Sir Sidney Lee says in his Biography of the Queen, however cogently Victoria’s attitude might be explained, the affair “came near proving a national calamity through the widespread hostility which it provoked against the Court.”

Urged by some members of his family, the Marquis of Hastings sent a full account of all that had occurred to the _Morning Post_, his letter occupying eleven columns, and in this Melbourne was entirely exculpated, also Baroness Lehzen, but it did not elucidate the name of the person with whom the first suggestion arose; many believed the Queen’s youthfully autocratic ways were at the root of the offence, while others did their best to distribute the blame.

Lady Flora was the author of many pretty verses, and her collected poems were published after her death. The following, “Lady Flora Hastings’ Bequest,” which was found among her papers, was not, however, included in the collection:--

“Oh, let the kindred circle, Far in our Northern land, From heart to heart draw closer Affection’s strength’ning band; To fill my place long vacant, Soon may our loved ones learn; For to our pleasant dwelling I never shall return.

Peace to each heart that troubled My course of happy years; Peace to each angry spirit That quenched my life in tears! Let not the thought of vengeance Be mingled with regret; Forgive my wrongs, dear Mother! Seek even to forget.

Give to the friend, the stranger, Whatever once was mine, Nor keep the smallest token To wake fresh tears of thine, Save one, one loved memorial, With thee I fain would leave; ’Tis one that will not teach thee Yet more for me to grieve.

’Twas mine when early childhood Turn’d to its sacred page The gay, the thoughtless glances Of almost infant age; ’Twas mine through days yet brighter, The joyous years of youth, When never had affliction Bow’d down mine ear to truth.

’Twas mine when deep devotion Hung breathless on each line Of pardon, peace, and promise Till I could call them mine; Till o’er my soul’s awakening The gift of Heavenly love, The spirit of adoption Descended from above.

Unmarked, unhelped, unheeded, In heart I’ve walked alone; Unknown the prayers I’ve uttered, The hopes I held unknown. Till in the hour of trial, Upon the mighty train, With strength and succour laden, To bear the weight of pain.

Then, Oh! I fain would leave thee, For now my hours are few, The hidden mine of treasure, Whence all my strength I drew, Take, then, the gift, my mother; And, till thy path is trod, Thy child’s last token cherish, It is the Book of God.”

It is interesting to know that Sir James Clark was a Navy doctor, who by the friendship of King Leopold was placed in the household of the Duchess of Kent in 1834, and as Navy doctors have no practice among women, he could have known very little about the matter when he so rashly judged Lady Flora Hastings. For the last ten years of his life he lived at Birk Hall, Bagshot Park, which was lent him by the Queen. By those who knew him he was regarded as an estimable, upright man.