Many years ago while attending university; I stumbled across a tome titled The Romance of Princess Amelia. The author was a rather pompous sounding gentleman named, William Shakespear Childe-Pemberton. Later on I was to discover that this particular gentleman was a popular biographer of the time. Since then my esoteric interests have been satiated many times over from his various works.
The biography on Princess Amelia was my introduction to his meticulous research and clear crisp writing style. I have to say I enjoyed the ‘meeting the Princess,’ as this was before the time when many biographies existed on the various daughters of King George III. Amelia’s existence has all the hallmarks that tend to fascinate, especially an esoteric. I highly recommend delving into this work.
William Shakespear Childe-Pemberton was farsighted enough to realize that the Princess would prove of interest to the 19th century esoteric. As he describes below, one gets the impression that he was one of the first to bring this late 18th and early 19th century ‘Royal Potboiler’ to public light.
‘While a study, drawn from original sources, representing the character, habits and surroundings of an English Princess who died a hundred years ago, may fairly be considered as a contribution to domestic history, it seems peculiarly appropriate on the centenary of the death of the amiable Princess Amelia to tell the true story of her life, and of her attachment to General Charles FitzRoy, if only to clear away misconceptions which have gathered around her memory, and to rebut certain slanders which recently have been revived.’
‘The love-affair of this Princess was concealed by her family, as far as possible, from the world at the time of her death. She herself appears to have gloried in her innocent attachment, and certainly by the terms of her will desired to make her betrothal a matter of public knowledge. The suppression of her testamentary wishes by her family at the time of her death was, to say the least, ill-judged. Gossip and scandal were not the less busy with her name. Even to this day some, apparently, confound her story with that of less innocent members of her family; others have actually gone so far as to assert that they knew her descendants.’
‘Extracts from letters of Princess Amelia's intimate friend the Honourable Mrs. George Villiers, mother of the fourth Earl of Clarendon (published for the first time in this volume), completely refute the calumnies to which we allude; while the original letters of Princess Amelia herself to General FitzRoy (also published for the first time) are the outpourings from the heart of a romantic girl whom fate has cruelly withheld from her lover — the chivalrous lover who she fondly hopes will some day become her acknowledged husband. Moreover, with these letters, certain papers expressing the dying wishes of the Princess indisputably assert the innocence of her attachment. All these last-mentioned letters and papers, written during the first decade of the nineteenth century, and treasured by General FitzRoy, were, on his decease, preserved by the lady whom he married some years after the death of the Princess. Mrs. FitzRoy bequeathed them to her sister the late Lady Wensleydale; and on the death of the latter they passed to her daughter the late Honourable Mrs. William Lowther.’
‘Mrs. Lowther wished the story of Princess Amelia to be published, and asked the author of this memoir to write it. It may be added that without her encouragement throughout, the work would never have been accomplished. He desires to express his gratitude to the memory of Mrs. Lowther ; also to the memory of Lady Leigh (born Lady Caroline Amelia Grosvenor), who contributed, during the progress of the book, valuable information and suggestions. His thanks are especially due to Mrs. Ernest Farquhar for supplying extracts from the papers of her father the late Sir T- Villiers Lister (notably a letter from Mrs. Farquhar's great - grandmother the above - mentioned Mrs. Villiers, addressed to her daughter Lady Theresa Lewis); also to the Honourable Mrs. R. C. Boyle (known in art and literature as " E. V. B."), whose grandmother Lady Albinia Cumberland was a lady-in-waiting to the Princesses daughters of George HL Several letters written to or by Lady Albinia Cumberland, together with a remarkable contemporary diary giving an account of the death of Princess Amelia and the circumstances which accompanied it, are from Mrs. Boyle's papers.’
‘Amelia stands forth unsullied. But, while we review the early decades of the nineteenth century, another, a grander and a more illustrious figure emerges before our imagination, standing out all the more vividly by contrast with its gloomy and ignoble background. iThen do we realize the greatness and dignity of character of Queen Victoria, which could build up the loyalty of the nation towards the throne — a loyalty which had been so sorely tested by her predecessors, but which, reconstructed by her on the firm basis of respect and love, all her children and her successors have done so much to strengthen and to cement.’
Princess Amelia of Great Britain & Ireland
Princess of Hanover
7.VIII.1783 – 2.IX.1810
The Princess Amelia was born on Thursday, August 7, 1783, at the Royal Lodge, Windsor, the youngest child of King George III and Queen Charlotte's fifteen children as well as the only one of her siblings born at Windsor Castle
Princess Amelia in 1785
The death of these two princes left a gap of almost six years between Amelia and her nearest surviving sibling, Sophia. She was twenty-one years younger than her eldest sibling George and nearly seventeen years younger than her eldest sister Charlotte. As the daughter of the monarch, she was styled HRH The Princess Amelia from birth.
Amelia was christened in the Great Council Chamber at St James's Palace by John Moore, The Archbishop of Canterbury, on Thursday, September 18, 1783. Her godparents were The Prince of Wales, George IV, Amelia's eldest brother, The Princess Royal, her eldest sister, Charlotte, and The Princess Augusta Sophia, her second sister.
Coming so soon after the death of Prince Octavius and shortly before the end of the war between Great Britain and the United States
From an early age, Amelia was conscious of her rank. A popular tale relates that when the famous tragedian, Sarah Siddons, expressed a desire to kiss the beautiful baby, Amelia ‘...instantly held her little hand out to be kissed, so early had she learnt the lessons of Royalty.’
When Amelia was three, Fanny Burney, the Queen's Keeper of the Robes, commented that the Princess could be ‘decorous and dignified when called upon to act en princess to any strangers, as if conscious of her high rank, and the importance of condescendingly sustaining it.’
As the youngest of the thirteen surviving children, Amelia was grouped with her sisters Mary and Sophia, and spent most of her time with them, living in various royal residences. From the beginning, the three younger Princesses did not receive as much parental attention as their elder sisters had, and spent a good deal of time away from the King and Queen, communicating with them mostly by letter. It seems that the three youngest Princesses were much more wild than their elder sisters, as evidenced by their behavior when they sat for a portrait in 1785.
In 1770, Zoffany had been able to paint the King, the Queen, and all six eldest children with little difficulty. In 1785, however, Copley had so much difficulty getting the dogs, birds, and especially the three royal children to sit still, he never painted another portrait, though certainly not for any want of merit in his work - in the end, the portrait came out beautifully. Compared to the carefully planned education that Royal, Augusta, and Elizabeth had been given, the education given to Mary, Sophia, and Amelia was based solely on what had come before. Amelia was only five years old when her father suffered his first bout of madness. As a consequence of her father's declining health, she never experienced the closeness and affection that had characterized the family during her eldest sisters' early years.
Amelia and her sisters, Charlotte, Augusta Sophia, Elizabeth, Mary and Sophia were over-protected and isolated, which restricted their meeting eligible suitors of their own age.
In 1803 Amelia fell in love with Hon. Sir Charles FitzRoy, an equerry 21 years older than herself, and the son of Charles FitzRoy, 1st Baron Southampton. The Queen was told of the affair by a servant, but turned a blind eye. It was hoped that such discretion would prevent the King from discovering the liaison, and the shock sending him into one of the bouts of mental illness to which he was becoming increasingly prone. Amelia knew she could not legally marry FitzRoy due to the provisions of the Royal Marriages Act passed by her father's Parliament, at least until she reached the age of 25, after which she could receive permission by assent of the Privy Council.
Princess Amelia was quite healthy until the age of fifteen, when she wrote ‘I wish the wind would go down. It hurts the drumsticks of my ears’. Later that year she started to suffer the early symptoms of what turned out to be tuberculosis.
In 1808, she had a severe attack of measles and the depressed atmosphere at home with her mother in Windsor Weymouth
After her death on Sunday, September 2, 1810, her eldest brother, later King George IV, who was also her godfather; is reputed to have requested her death mask.
Princess Amelia's birth place.
Also in the wake of Amelia's passing, George Villiers, the King's bailiff, and younger brother of Thomas Villiers, 2nd Earl of Clarendon, attempted to blackmail the King and Queen with letters belonging to Amelia, after the disappearance of £280,000 in his control - Villiers was father of later diplomat and statesman George Villiers, 4th Earl of Clarendon.
Princess Amelia’s death led to a decline in her father's health which resulted in his insanity and the subsequent invocation of the Regency Act of 1811. She was buried in the royal vault in St George's
True Love Stories Of Famous People
Princess Amelia, The Youngest Daughter Of King George III
By J. A. Brendon
This is not a romance rich in daring deeds of chivalry, in stirring episodes and powerful situations. It is merely a little love story, quite simple, very dainty. Indeed, had not the heroine been the daughter of a king, it would probably never have been written; she would have married the hero in the usual way, and with him, no doubt, would have lived happily ever afterwards. But the heroine was a princess, a princess of the Blood Royal, and the heritage of birth stood in her road of happiness, an insuperable obstacle.
Her Father's Darling
Love is a whimsical, capricious force, and the path of true love almost invariably is beset with difficulties. A platitude this may be, but the statement calls for no apology. One may laugh at it, but one cannot despise it; it is a truth which has echoed throughout the ages, and still reechoes.
But perhaps it was inevitable that the Princess Amelia should learn to love a commoner, for she was the daughter of King George III., a monarch whose grey hairs literally were brought to the grave by the matrimonial complications of his children. His was a remarkable and numerous family, but its members, almost without exception, each contracted or strove to contract a mesalliance. That Amelia should have done so was unfortunate, for she was a girl whom not even the breath of scandal should have been allowed to touch. She was very different from the other children. Refined and high-minded, in her were centred all the family virtues. She was very human, but very fascinating, and the nation adored her. Her brothers and her sisters were devoted to her; the Queen loved her dearly, but the King-to George III. she was the most precious thing in life; he idolised her, and not without reason, for in return she idolised him also.
Amelia was his youngest child, the last of a family of fifteen, and was born on August 7, 1783, at Queen's House, a building which, in 1825, emerged eventually from the hands of architects as Buckingham Palace
Beautiful But Delicate
Precocious and of enormous importance in her own eyes, a fascinating child, she was indeed a princess born, absurdly conscious of her dignity. But, unfortunately, even as a baby she was alarmingly delicate. Unlike her sisters, therefore, who, as children, had been kept closely to their books, she was ordered by the doctors to live as much as possible in the open air, and, in consequence, developed into a delightfully natural girl, really artistic, really musical, and, it is said, a "great horsewoman."
"Full as tall as Princess Royal, and as much formed, she looks," wrote Madame d'arblay in 1798, "seventeen, although only fourteen, and has a Hebe blush, an air of modest candour, and a gentleness so caressingly inviting of voice and manner that I have seldom seen a more captivating young creature."
The open air life, moreover, appears to have proved truly beneficial, for in January, 1800, the King declared in a letter to Bishop Hurd of Worcester that "even dear Amelia is with gigantic steps, by the mercy of Divine Providence
"She was," he continued, "on the 24th of last month, confirmed at her own request by the Archbishop of Canterbury
The Hon. Charles Fitzroy
But, none the less, in the following year, when George's mind again gave way beneath the strain of troubles political and domestic -the Prince of Wales's infatuation for Mrs. Fitzherbert was a sorry worry to him-it was deemed advisable, for the sake of her health also, to send Amelia to Weymouth
Later, moreover, when George returned to Windsor , the Princess did not accompany him; she remained at Weymouth
The Hon. Charles Fitzroy was at this time thirty-eight years of age, twenty years older than Amelia. The second son of Lord Southampton, he was himself of semi-royal descent, for his uncle, the Duke of Grafton, was a direct descendant of King Charles II. But the first duke's mother had been Barbara Villiers, and there was, therefore, a bar sinister in the family escutcheon. Fitzroy, therefore, could not even hope to be recognised as Amelia's husband. This he knew; this the Princess knew, but knowledge could not restrain desire, and she learned to love him, and he her, as truly as man and woman have ever loved.
Friendship Ripens Into Love
FitzRoy, however, strove hard to prevent himself from compromising her. He was a noble, generous man, and, moreover, a loyal and faithful servant of his king. George regarded him as his truest friend, and reposed in him the utmost confidence. And this was a trust which Fitzroy was unwilling to betray. But his was a difficult position. When love and honour are antagonistic, love often proves to be the stronger.
Rarely did a day pass upon which the Princess and equerry did not meet; they were frequently thrown into each other's company. Fitzroy always accompanied the monarch on his morning rides. Amelia did also. In the evening, again, he would often play cards with the King and Queen. Am so would Amelia.
Acquaintanceship, therefore, blossomed rapidly into friendship, and now, during these days at Weymouth
Motherly Counsel
On hearing the news, Queen Charlotte made it her first concern to keep the King in ignorance; it would be a cruel blow to him to know that Amelia, his youngest and favourite child, had followed the example of her elders and yielded to an unwise affection. Accordingly, she endeavoured tactfully to allay the storm. With this object in view, she addressed to Amelia a pacific letter. It is a remarkable document, and of prodigious length. In it, moreover, she barely alluded to Fitzroy, but sought merely to justify the conduct of Miss "Gum," who, she assured Amelia, "being put about you all as a trusty Person to direct and instruct you, is, by Her Situation, bound in Honour to put you on your Guard if she knows of anything that would be likely to injure you. You will, my dear Amelia," she added, "be sensible that neither by words nor by looks did I through the whole Winter shew you any disapprobation. In the beginning of Our Settling in Town I was ignorant of what had passed; and when I knew it I took no notice of it, being sure that Miss Gum's advice being well considered must upon any Person which professes Religious Principles have taken every Necessary effect, particularly as You want neither Sense nor Penetration, and consequently must feel that she was a friend to you."
The letter concluded with some sage motherly counsel.
"A Wise Man," wrote the Queen, "bears with a Fool, and a Good Man bears up under Distress, nay, even bears injury with Patience; and I pray to God that you may become both wise and good. I beseech you let no offence whatever lead you to judge hastily of a Fellow Creature; be always watchful of yourself in every step you take; beware of Flatterers-choice of your friends, and do not destroy your Health and Happiness by fancying things worse than they are, and by your following this advice You not only prove Your affection to me, but insure to You the warmest Love from
"Your affectionate Mother and Friend."
"Charlotte
But Amelia's outraged feelings were not thus to be pacified. She refused to forgive Miss Gomme, and threatened even to appeal to the King for her dismissal. This was terrible. George must not know the truth. He must not be allowed even to suspect. His burden of cares already was more than he could carry-domestic worries, difficulties with Parliament, sedition in Ireland
And so the little romance was allowed once again to pursue the even tenor of its way, and soon, very soon, the lovers came to an understanding, a secret understanding, but a very definite understanding. This the follow-ing letter proves. It is the earliest of her love letters now extant.
"My own dear Angel,- I don't know why, but I felt so full that I was quite distressed at speaking to you. How cruel we did not play together (at cards)! I thought your manner to me still as if you had doubts about me. . . . I tell you honestly how jealous I am I don't know! And I dread your hating me. I hope I shall be able to give you this walking to-day at Frogmore. My own dear love, I am sure you love me as well as ever. If you can give me a kind look or word to-night pray do, and look for me, Princess Amelia, the youngest daughter of King George III. The story of her love for Hon. Charles Fitzroy forms certainly the most dainty of the Royal romances of the eighteenth century to-morrow morning riding; don't leave me ! Don't send anything over till this evening, you dear Angel. I go to chapel to-morrow morning-now do sit where I can see you, not as you did last Sunday morning. Good God, what I then suffered ! Do have your hair cut and keep it for me. . . ."
Amelia may have been a child, but there can be no doubt as to the sincerity of her devotion to Fitzroy. This letter shows her love in all its delightful, genuine simplicity. It was a cruel fate which forbade her to marry the man she dearly loved. But marry him she could not; that is to say, could not without the Crown's consent - the heritage of birth made it impossible. This the Royal Marriage Act of 1772 declared emphatically, and to ask for the King's consent, Amelia knew, would be an idle waste of time.
There was, however, a possible loophole. A clause in the Act asserted that if any member of the Royal Family, " being above the age of twenty-five, should persist in his or her resolution to contract a marriage disapproved of or dissented from by the Sovereign, then such descendant, upon giving notice to the King's Privy Council, which notice was to be entered in the books thereof, might, at any time from the expiration of twelve calendar months after such notice given, contract such marriage . . . and such marriage should be good, unless both Houses of Parliament should, before the expiration of the said twelve months, declare their disapprobation."
It was of this clause that Amelia was determined to avail herself. But it was necessary for several years to elapse before she could do so; she would not be twenty-five until 1808, and even from then she would have to wait another year before she would be free to marry.
But wait she would. She was determined that nothing should shake her loyalty, and that, even if each of the crowns of Europe were laid at her feet in turn, she would reject them. Henceforth, therefore, when writing to Fitzroy, she refers to herself as his "wife in spirit," and, just to show him how worthless is a title in her eyes, she deliberately makes use of his initials in signing her letters.
Snuff And Love
And, strange though it may seem, this pretty, childish fancy has been often used to support the belief that Fitzroy and she were really man and wife. Mrs. Villiers, however, who was Amelia's constant and most intimate companion during her later years, has testified to the utter falsity of all such statements. But such testimony, surely, is unnecessary; Amelia's letters alone are sufficient proof, and two, at any rate, both written in 1707, are worthy of being quoted. The first is particularly interesting. The modern girl, perhaps, really is not so terribly modern, after all. She may smoke like a man, she may want to vote like a man, but her predecessors took snuff like men, even the gentle Amelia.
"My ever beloved Angel," she wrote to Fitzroy from Weymouth
This was written in February. The following is an extract from a later letter: " Your dear letter-o, what a treasure ! I shall keep it and read it over and over every day. I do esteem you and love you the better. If we go to town you shall hear to-night, but I hope not. I long for a comfortable ride. Pray don't alter in your manner to me in anything, you dear Angel. I really must marry you, though inwardly united, and in reality that is much more than the ceremony, yet that ceremony would be a protection. O my precious darling, how often do I say-would to God my own husband and best friend and guardian were here to protect me and assist me, as I am sure was destined in Heaven, I should have nothing to fear."
"I envy those who can marry"; "I really must marry"-such phrases surely prove conclusively that no secret ceremony had been performed. In another year, moreover, Amelia would be twenty-five, and, in spite of ill-health, she was wildly excited at the thought of laying her declaration before the Privy Council. But before she could do this, there were many difficulties to be encountered. Although, at this time, it seemed that love ultimately would surely triumph, it was impossible that the peace of the last few years should remain long undisturbed, for Amelia was reckless; she made no effort to conceal her feelings. "Conscious innocence," declared Mrs. Villiers, prevented her from pausing "to consider the opinion of the world, and she gloried in her attachment to so honourable and upright a man as Charles Fitzroy."
Reports and rumours, therefore, spread rapidly in all directions, and, in the latter part of the year 1808, Miss Gomme received several anonymous letters accusing her of connivance. In order to save herself, Miss Gomme endeavoured to throw the blame upon the Queen, and on one occasion was so foolish as to declare that Her Majesty had promised to give her approval to the marriage as soon as the King was dead. The Queen, naturally, was greatly angered by these statements, but, as usual, caution won the day. And now, to keep the matter from the notice of the King, it would be necessary to exercise extreme caution. Accordingly, she addressed a remarkable letter to Amelia, a letter in which she tried to give the impression that she had only just heard of her daughter's attachment.
"You are now beginning to enter into years of discretion," she wrote, "and will, I do not doubt, see how necessary it is to subdue at once every Passion in the beginning, and to consider the impropriety of indulging any impression which must make you miserable, and be a disgrace to yourself and a misery to all who love you. Add to this the melancholy situation of the King at this present moment (George III. was mad), who, could he be acquainted of what has passed, would be miserable for all his life, and I fear it would create a breach in the whole family."
Dare She Elope?
This, surely, was a foolish policy for the Queen to adopt-it was too late in the day now for her to pose as the wise and thoughtful mother. And subsequent events proved that this was so, for the effect of the letter upon the Princess was to make her seriously to consider the question of an elopement. Indeed, it was only by appealing to her affection for her father that Mrs. Villiers was able to dissuade her from going to Fitzroy then and there and imploring him to put an end to all delay.
However, even had she failed,- there can be no doubt but that Fitzroy himself would have succeeded, for his was not the character of the dauntless hero of romance, prepared always to assume the initiative or to take the law into his hands. No; in Amelia's lover the fire of duty burned even more strongly than the flame of love; he was a solid, phlegmatic Britisher. Besides, so he argued with himself, if he defied the law and obeyed his heart, he would lose his position at Court. That he could not afford to do, for he was but a younger son, and his small fortune was much too slender to support a disinherited princess.
Eventually, however, in spite of all precautions, the inevitable happened; the King heard the story of Amelia's love-affair. This took place in the spring of 1808, and an angry interview between father and daughter followed-a very angry interview, for Amelia subsequently referred to George as her "late father." This breach with the King was the sorest of all her trials, and the bitterness of her sorrow was intensified by the fact that in her hour of need the family all forsook her, with one exception. The Prince of Wales stood by her nobly, and his help strengthened her not a little. But this is not surprising, for but rarely has a man been endowed with a more tender and captivating manner than the prince who subsequently became King George IV.
The King's estrangement from Amelia, however, was not of long duration, for, at any rate so far as his youngest daughter was concerned, George III. was an indulgent father. But this quarrel, the culmination of all her trials, proved fatal to the Princess. Her health, already greatly overtaxed, broke down completely, and the symptoms were unmistakably the symptoms of consumption.
The Shadow of Death
The shadow of death already lay broad across her path. Amelia saw it, but, none the less, as soon as she became twenty-five, still hoping against hope, she presented her marriage petition to the Privy Council. Perhaps she might be able to marry, even yet. For a while she was buoyed up by hope. And then, when months elapsed, and still Parliament did not utter one word of dissent, hope became confidence, and her health and spirits both revived.
The rally, however, was but a temporary one; she could not throw off the fatal malady, and, although it did not claim her finally until November 2, 1810, death marched towards her with slow but certain footsteps.
The King was distracted with grief when he realised that Amelia was dying, and, poor man, blind though he was, he used to visit her bedside daily. General Fitzroy accompanied him, and his sorrow was even harder to bear, because it had to be borne in silence.
During one of these visits (it was the last visit) Amelia slipped on her father's finger a ring which had been made specially. On it was a crystal tablet containing a lock of hair, and it was inscribed with the words "Amelia-Remember Me."
"Pray wear this for my sake," she said, "and I hope you will not forget me."
"That I can never do," replied the King. "You are engraven on my heart." Then he burst into tears and, bending down, kissed her-for the last time.
Amelia Finds Peace
FitzRoy, however, contrived also to see Amelia privately. In this, the Princesses Mary and Augusta helped him, and for hours he would sit talking, a faithful lover, by the bedside of the suffering invalid whose devotion to him was robbing her of life.
The inevitable end was slow in coming, very slow, but at length a note arrived for him. It was from Princess Mary. Fitzroy knew what it contained. He opened it. "My dear Fitzroy," it ran, "our beloved Amelia is no more, but her last words to me were, 'tell Charles I die blessing him.' Before I leave this house, I obey her. last wishes. Far or near, your affectionate friend, Mary."
Thus ends the story. At the funeral no place could be found for the chief and truest mourner. And, in spite of its tragic pathos, it is a pretty story.
In 1816 General Fitzroy married, but the memory of the Princess Amelia never faded from his mind, and it was that memory alone which, in after years, gave Mrs. Fitzroy cause for jealousy.
Treasured Letters From Amelia To Charles
On "April 13, 1808," she wrote (at .Windsor)^—
‘ I cannot resist trying to express, and to leave you, my ever dear and beloved Charles, the expressions of the fondest love and gratitude for all your goodness and kindness to me ever since we owned to each other how we loved. You will receive this when I am dead, if you outlive me, and I feel some gratification in leaving you this, though, my beloved, it will fall far short of all I feel or wish in every way. My memory is my only joy. No two ever loved or were so tried as we, and instead of separating us — which in all others it would [have done] — it has bound us tighter and more sacredly together. I own I can never help praying and hoping a time yet may come when the Almighty may bless and join us in persons,''' as we are in hearts, ever inseparable.’
‘Accept, my beloved, the thanks of your own darling wife, who died as she lived blessing you. You have given me every moment of comfort and happiness or ease of mind I ever enjoyed. You have saved me in every sense. You have proved yourself my guide, protector, friend, husband, lover, father, brother, best of friends. My husband ! though, Alas ! the rights, from situation, I have not enjoyed, and though I have not been able to make you as happy as I wished, loving me as I know you do and knowing all you do of me, as I thank God I never deceived you in one instance, you must feel great satisfaction and comfort. I have been so ill that I was determined to write this as soon as I was equal to it. There are many scraps of paper all addressed to you, which I have written at different times, I dare- say I may add many more, but with this is my seal, and in my red box is an inventory of all the things in my room which are my own and therefore yours. I am sure you will never forget me. I feel our wishes are known and sanctioned in heaven; and there we shall meet to part no more. I solemnly declare the truth that you are the only person that ever suited me, or for whom I ever could find the same confidence and affection. I never could conceal a thought from you. I have run every risk to disgust you. O God ! how differently has it acted!’
‘All my own things I always used, keep with you — my all is yours except a few articles I have; and give what you think right as trifling remembrances to my Sisters and friends.’
‘Let Charlotte/ our dear sister, keep me in her recollection. The Villiers ^ who have been so very kind ever continue as intimate with us here. You know those I liked and who have been friends. These never forsake. Leave Court as soon as you can, I only am to blame in your being here, and, my Charles, you are too good ever to be happy here, and you know how little reason I had to love my family, or esteem them, and though I never hurt any one of them, they, God knows, have me — in many ways various and cruel. Yet beware of them. Think what a grievous thing for a child or sister to say, but I do say [it] to my Charles who is my more than self. Take care of your dear self, and remember me. Gone, I shall ever watch over you, and I shall hope to meet your dear father ! If he knew me and my feelings for his beloved Charles, he would protect me. I have had many faults, but none to- wards you. O God, how I do love you ! I have liked you from the first I sought you, and Blessed be God — I gained you. Each day and hour has endeared you to me ; accept the gratitude and affection of her who owes you everything — for ever your most affectionate friend and wife.’
‘I have loved you, prized and esteemed you more every instant. God bless you, my own dearest and most beloved Angel. Ever on Earth or in Heaven equally your attached Wife and darling.
‘A. F. R.’
Again she wrote at this time —
‘You will, my own dear Charles, receive this when your torment is gone for ever — remember, my own darling, since I first knew you I have never experienced but kindness, and be assured my affection and esteem has only increased with my knowing you better. You have saved me, and so my beloved C. F. R. I owe you all my happiness and comfort. Situation has prevented my wishes being realized which inwardly they have long been, and I consider myself as your own lawful wife. May God bless you and make you happy. Don't forget me, and think of her who died blessing and loving you, and who lived only for you. I enclose a locket. You will wear the motto which I am vain enough to think will be true; and this paper send to Eliza or Augusta. I have left word you are to have what I say. God bless you and be assured of the gratitude and affection of her who owes you everything.’
NR
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