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Swallows. Therrtare six American
species of the swallow. .iH of which are
now found with us. They have all mark
ed points of resemblance in their forms
and habits ; all making the air their pe
culiar element and swimming as it were
in it with the graceful and easy mo
tion of fish in the water. All live up
on insect food, all are sociable in their
habit?, all delight society or neigh
borhood of man. Yet all possess strong
ly distinctive traits in their appearance
and modes oflife. There is the bcauti
. ful purple Martin, the sentinel of the farm
house, and yet the most aristocratic ot
birds ; either'a baron, a priest or private
gentleman, as his happens to he in
a castle, a church or a less prt tending
dwclHni hpuse. Hut much more useful
withal than sitch aristocratic personages
are apt to f>e ; for he most effectually
keeps off the crow and hawk, and other
mvauders from the farm yard. Next is
the forked tailed, steelblue, backed barn
swallow, buildiug his'ndst of mud with
sometimes twenty or thirty of his species
against the Yhfter of the barn. Then
fallows the cliff swallow, building his nest
of clay and sand, in the shape of a retort
or bottle, and agglutinating it to the side
of a cliff or building. The fourth species
is, the white-belled swallow, who builds
his nest without mud, of fine dry grass,
and places it in a hallow tree or ujpler
thfc eaves of a barn or dwelling house.
The fifth species, the Bank swallow, a
plain homely bird, burrows a liofe in the
side of a saud bank or gravel pit, and
there deposites his nest, at just such a
dfpth as to be out of the reach of the arm
of any intruding marauding school boy.
Last of all the family, the singular
looking Chimney swallow, which betakes
itself to some unoccupied and lofty chim
ney where hcplaces his basket-like nest, of
neatly interlaced twigs, cemented by an
adhesive gulp which the bird* secretes.
At twiliglrt lie issues with the bat from
his sooty home and shoots like an imp
backwards and forwards through the up
per regions of the air.
The most remarkable circumstance in
the?history of the swallows is, their seek
ing out the society of man, and attaching
themselves to his neighborhood. The
first of the family which found out these
advantages were the martins, who when
the country was first discovered used to
build their nests in gourds or calabashes
which the Indityjs hung up near wigwams
for this purpose. As the country became
civilized, the barn and white bellied swal
lows left the caves and hollow trees, and
bytook themselves to-the barns, where
they now invariably build.—The chim
ney swallows formerly built in some large
hollow tree, open at the top ; hut within
a compawpively short time have discov-
Ofed the »u\u»t’\ot of iho
nies to which they tnow always resort.
But what is the most curious of all, is
another species, the cliff swallow, has
discovered the advantages of associating
‘round the habitations of man within the
fast twenty years. When they first came
to notice of naturalists they occupied the
region about the rocky mountains and
the cliffs of the Missouri. In 1815 they
appeared for the first time on the banks
of the Ohio. In 1817 they appeared at
Whitehall, near Lake Champlain. Since
1830 they have been found in several pla
ces in the State of Majne. In .all the
places where they have built, they have
augmented their nests in a year or two
from a single cluster to two or three hun
dred.
Thus much have we gleaned of the na
tural history of the sociable and neigh
borly swallows. And now gentle reader
whoever thou rnayest be, who hast deign
ed to read our humble sketch, we would
ask thee if (lie pressure of business, or
of worldly cates is upon thee as thou
walkcst gloomily through the streets, to
throw off for a moment the weight of thy
brooding thoughts, and mark that beauti
ful bird as it courses by tliee, just skim
ming the ground in its flight. Observe
that bird ns it now rises from earth and
soaring aloft moves in the pure air of the
clear upper sky. These beautiful tilings
of earth are meant for emblems and mon
itors, and like that bird may thy care
laden spirit rise from its worldliness to the
brightness and purity of heaven.
Passage of the Red Sea. The
route of the Israelites, and the place where
they crossed the Red Sea, are thus dis
cussed in the “Incidents of Travel,” by
au American:
**‘Late in the afternoon, landed on the
opposite side, on the most sacred spot
connected with the wanderings of the
Israelites, where they rose from the dry
bed of the sea, and, at the command of
Moses the div ided waters rushed together,
overwhelming Pharaoh and his chariots,
and the whole host of Egypt. Y\ itli the
devotion of a pious pilgrim, I picked up
a shell and put it into my pocket ns a
memorial of the place; and then Paul
and I, mounting the dromedaries which
my guide had brought down to the shore
in readiness, rode to a grove of palm
trees, shading a fountain of bad water,
called ayoun Moussa, or the fountain of
Mpses. I was riding carelessly along,
looking behind me towards the sea, and
had almost reached the grove of palm
trees, when a large flock of crows flew
out, and my dromedary, frightened with
their sudden whizzing, started back and
threw me twenty feet over hi? head, com
pletely clear of -liislong neclc, and left me
sprawling in the sand. It was a mercy
I did not finish my wanderings where the I
children of Israel began theirs ; but I
saved my head at the expense of my hands,
which sank in the loose soil up to the j
wrist, and bore the marks for more than j
two months afterward. I seated myself
where 1 fell; the sum was Just
dipping below the horizon, told Paul to
pitch the tent with the door towards the
place of the miraculous passage. I shall
never forget that sunset scene, and it is
the last I shall inllict upoti the reader.
I was sitting-on the sand on the very spot
where the chosen people of God, after
walking over the dry bed of the sea, stop
ped to behold the divided waters return
ing to their place, and swallowing up the
host of the pursuers. The mountains
on the other-side looked dark as porten
tous, as if proud and conscious witness
es of the mighty miracle ; while the sun,
decending slowly behind them, long al
ter it had disappeared, left a reflected!
brightness, which illuminated with an al
most supernatural light the dark surface
of the water.
“ But to return to the fountain of Mos- j
cs. I rfbi aware that there is some dis
pute as to the precise spot where Moses!
crossed ; but, having no time for skepti- ■
cism on such matters, 1 began by making '
up my mind that this was the place, and
then looked around to see whether, ac
cording to the account given in the Bible,
(.he face of the country and the natural
land-marks did not sustain opinion.
I remember I looked up to the bead of
the gulf, where Suez or Kolsum now
stands, and saw that, almost to the very
head of the gulf, there was a high range
of mountains which it would he necessary
to cross—an undertaking which it would
be physically impossible for 0(10,000 peo
ple, men, women, and children, to ac
complish, with a hostile army pursuing
them. At Suez, Moses could not have
been hemmed in as he was; lie could go
off into the Syrian desert, or, unless the
sea has greatly changed since that time,
round the head of the gulf. But here,
directly opposite to where I sat, was an
opening in the mountains, making a clear
passage from the desert to the snore of
the sea.”
Tun Aiu’uoacu nv the Thames.—
The correspondent of the Boston Atlas
gives the following account of the ap
proach to London by the river :
“I to-day, for the first time, ascended
the Thames, in the steamer from Rotter
dam. 1 know not what may be the chief
impression on other minds when thus ap
proaching and first entering London.
Nothing, T know, has so much impressed
me a< tiie grand scale, the enormous mag
nitude upon which every thing seems to
be done. Within two hours previous to
my IfeUtlinK l luul see w nt mtsnrn
hoats, storming jllowii the river, thronged,
completely thronged with passengers;
then what multitudes of ships, merchant
men and men of war, momently, for miles
and miles met the eye. As we advanced,
upon our left arose the great Greenwhich
hospital, that immense repository of bro
ken limbs and naval valor. Upon the
right are now those vast works, the East
India, the West India, and the London
Docks, crowded with vessels, and show
ing forth, even in the distance, a perfect
wilderness of masts. England is said to
be mistress of the sea. One cannot be
assured of her greatness on that element,
if he approach the metropolis through the
avenue of the river Thames. And yet
the thousands on thousands of vessels 1
have this day seen are but a small part of
her maratime power.
Judging from the great number of build
ings that lined the river banks, 1 expect
ed every moment to land. ‘We are vet
three miles from the custom-house,’ said
tlit* helmsman. At length London bridge
appeared. Barges, wherries, ships, coal
vessels, steamboats of all sizes anil shapes,
seemed nmv to be trebly multiplied, all
crowded together in a confusion that ap
peared not more inextricable than hazar
dous. *\Ve are here just over the grand
tunnel,’ says a passenger ; ‘more than for
ty men are at work'some fifty feet be
neath our steamer.’ We at last stood
in front of the custom-house, itself a stu
pendous building, and one, moreover,
wherein the traveler learns that if much
is here done on a large scale, something
is likewise done in -a most minute and
scrutinizing one.”
Tides. According to recent and
accurate observations, the tide wave
travels from tbe Cape of Good Hope to
Giberaltar, a distance of nearly .5000
miles, in the incredibly short period of
12 hours, which is at the rate of above
400 miles an hour. The same wave re
quires 12 hours to reacii Edinburg from
C» ihaltar, a distance of about 1900 miles,
and proceeds with a velocity of 160 miles
an hour ; whereas that from Edinburg to
London, only 500 miles, requires the
same, 12 hours, and goes at the rate
of 42 miles an hour. These retardations
in the rate velocity of the tide wave are
occasioned by the obstruction it receives
from the coast it comes in contact with.
At Liverpool it is found, that a fall of
one tenth of an inch in the barometer
raises the tide one inch, which is a beau
tiful illustration of the law of gravitation.
[Eng. paper.
A Goon Wife. —A preacher in a fu
neral sermon on a lady, after summing
up her good qualities, added, “that she
always reached her husband his hat when
he called for it. without muttering.”
BRUNSWICK ADVOCATE.
The boot of the evil. After all
that i? said of hard times, scarcity of
money, high price of provisions, and want
of employment, the foundation, the sub
stratum of the whole difficulty appears,
on full consideration, to consist in this :
that too many have a distaste for tbe cul
tivation of the soil, and by resorting to
almost any other kind of employment to
avoid that, overstock other occupations,
and thin the farmer ranks, whereby con
sumption is made to exceed production.
Hence the aupmaly of the high price of
provisions, and the scarcity of money at
the same time.-—Hence tbe numbers out
of employment, and the strikes for high
er wages in the mechanical and manufac
turing business. Hence tffe various
new projects to create employment in
ways almost innumerable, such as the
starting of publications, uncalled for by
the wants of the community, the ever
lasting change of fashions in all kinds of
mauuincturc, the establishment of somany j
mercantile companies, and so, through
the long catalogue. Were one half of
the population that are now engaged in
other pursuits, to turn their attention to
husbandry, it would be better for all con
cerned. There are too many merchants,
too many clerks, too many lawyers, too
many physicians, too many editors, too
many of almost every thing but farmers.
We say not that all should turn husband
men. We admit the necessity, the utili
ty of many of the occupations of society.
But farming appears to be the general
aversion; and men seem even to prefer
street-cleaning and chimney sweeping, to
that natural, that healthful occupation,
tilling of the earth. [N. Y. Sun,
Marshal Soci.t. —Crossing the Point
Royal, shortly after my arrival, in compa
ny with a friend, the latter pointed out to
me a stranger on the opposite sidewalk,
and desired me to guess who and what
he might be. The subject of iny exam
ination was a compact, solidly-built man,
with a plodding, rustic air, and who walk
ed a little lame,. —After looking at him a
minute, I guessed lie was some substantial
grazier, who had come to Paris on busi
ness connected with the supplies of the
town. My friend laughed, and told me
it was Marshal Soult. To my inexperi
enced eye, lie had not a bit of the exterior
of a soldier, and was as unlike the engrav
ings we see of the French heroes as pos
sible. But here art is art; and the man
who was accused of betraying another
into an unprofitable speculation by draw
ing streams on his map when the land
was without any, and who defended him
self by saying that no one ever saw a map
without streams, the French artists think
every one should be represented in his
i.luni cimtnctcr, lot him be as bourgeois
as lie may in truth. I have seen Marshal
Soult in company, and his face has much
character. The head is good, and the
eye searching, the whole physiognomy
possessing those latent lires that one would
be apt to think would require the noise
and excitement of a battle to awaken them.
[Cooper’s Recollections of Europe.
A traveler in Germany gives an account
of an interview with a petty potentate,
who imagined himself as great and pow
erful as any monarch in existence. He
talked about bis declining to subscribe to
tlie quadrupartite treaty. This reminds
us of a story of the nigger Prince on the
Coast of Guinea, whose throne was a
block of wood, and whose guard was
three or four native savages with wooden
pikes. When he had completed the bar
gains with the slave merchant, bartering
a few of his subjects for,glass beads and
rusty nails, lie pompously inquired if they
talked much about him in England. These
petty Germans assume as much conse
quence with about equal pretentions.
Benevolence. —’Phe late Archbishop
of Bordeaux was remarkable for his toler
ance and enlightened benevolence. The
following anecdote will not he read with
out interest. “My lord,” said a person
to him one day, “here is a poor woman
come to ask charity, what do you wish to
do for her?” “How old is she?” “Sev
enty.” “Is she in great distress?” “She.
says so.” “She must be relieved ; give
her twenty-five francs.” “Twenty-five
francs ! my lord, it is too much, espec
ially as she is a Jewess.” “A Jewess?”
“Yes, my lord.” “Oh that makes a dif
ference : give her fifty francs, then, and
thank her for coming.”
Boston in old times. —A decree of
the court —“Captain Stone is sentenced
to pay a hundred pounds, and prohibited
coming within the patent without the
Governor’s leave, upon pain o f death, for
calling Mr. Ludlow (one of the Justices)
a Just ass ?”
The jewelry worn by the princess Hel
ena, on the occasion of her marriage with
the Duke of Orleans, recently, cost over
3,000,000 of dollars ! The marriage
robe, made entirely of lace, cost 8000f.
Fine Arts in France. The objects
of art in the cabinet of the late Baron
Gros are sought after with avidity, by am
ateurs as well as artists. The sketch
of the “Plague of Jaffa” attained the
price of 8000 francs. The hat which
Napoleon wore at the battle of Eylau was
sold—or rather given away—for 8000
j francs !
Latest from France. The Poland, Capt
Anthony, from Havre, at New York, brings
tiles to June 22d ; Paris to the 21st.
Great dissatisfaction exists in the Spanish
army, in consequence of Gen. Evans having
quitted-
The French Chambers are discussing the
i®*pens«J! of the Home Department- The
RailroacTqiiestion is postponed to next ses
sion.
Another plot is spoken of against the
King’s life, to have taken effect during the
fetes. The soldiers to whom overtures had
been made, disclosed the authors, and six per
sons were arrested.
The whole of the provisions intended for
the Royal banquet at the Hotel de Ville, have,
in consequence of the sad disaster of numer
ous persons billed in the crowd while attempt
ing to leave the Camp de Mars after the fete,
been, by order of the Prefect of Seine, distrib
uted among the various hospitals at Paris.—
The Duke of Orleans has charged himself
personally with relieving the families of the
sufferers.
Gen. De Rigny, accused of high treason in
the Algerine war, was to be tried at Marseilles
June 2Gth. M. Phillip Dapin was his coun
sel.
. An American Gentleman assisting at a Roy
al Fete. The principal prize, at the Versailles
races was won by Mr. James Thorn, an A
meriean gentleman, possessor of an immense
fortune. He rode himself the horse to w hich
belong the honors of the day. Lord Seymour
was the next w inner.
M. Alexander Dumas, the author of numer
our valuable works, has received the cross of
the Legion of Honor, and the Belgian Cross
from King Leopold.
The interview between General Bugeaud
and Abdel-Kader is spoken of as one of great
interest. The French General was escorted
by six battallions of cavalry, and had to wait
some time for the Emir, who finally came
down the mountains mounted on a splendid |
Arabian, followed by 10,000 men—2oo of
them chiefs—some of whom held his stirrups,
tjie flaps of his coat, and the tail of his horse.
Abdel is described as pale, w-ith a wide
mouth, brown beard, and an eye of fire—fore
head noble and uncovered. He shook hands
with the Frencli General with great cordiality,
and then sat together on the grass. They con
versed an hour and affectionately parted. The
hills resounded with shouts of joy.
From the .Liverpool correspondent of the N.
York Star, we learn that there has been an e
lopement in high life. Mr. Conroy, son of Sir
John Conroy, (equerry to the Princes Victoria,)
has boiled with Lady Alicia Parsons, the beau
tiful daughter of the Earl of Rosse, an Irish
peer. *
Three years since the youthful pair met at a
quadrille party, at Tunbridge Wells, where
the Duchess of Kent and Princess Victoria
were spending the summer. D’lsraeli insists
that there is such a tiling as ‘love at first sight’
and might quote this as an instance, for it is
certain they were mutually smitten, and thus
they continued until ten days since. They
met where, how, and when they could—Love,
you know, icill do all these tilings. It is like
a hydraulic power—always finding its own
level. At a late Almacks’ ball, Lady Alicia
and Mr. Conroy w-ere again partners .in the
mazy dance. He pleaded his suit— she blush
a,',a ■'■■■'' wsoiiteti n little, lie spoke
of marriage—she of the pam it would give her
papa. He whispered ‘Gretna Green,’ and the
lady sighed—lie talked of flight, and she pat
ted his cheek, prettily, with her fan—he said
that he had a carriage and four in readiness at
the end of Oxford street, and she—‘saying she
would not consent, consented.’ So, away they
went, and the next day but one saw them in
the little parlor of Gretna. They have not
yet been reconciled to Lord Rosse, but no
doubt will. Meantine, ’tis the town talk ;
since Brinsley Sheridan run away w-ith Miss
Grant, the rich heiress, there has been nothing
of the sort in London life.
The Marquis of Waterford has been at it
again. He and some friends had a spree at
W indsor, went thence to Eton College, made
an attack upon the statute of Henry VI., the
founder, and wrenched away its sceptre. They
then posted off to London. The college au
thorities offer a rew-ard of £2O for their appre
hension. The sceptre has since been anony
mously returned. The Marquis denies the
truth of this tale, but is not credited !
A circumstance occurred last week which
had a termination which may be fatal. The
names of the parties have not transpired- the
few papers that alluded to the matter merely
giving initials. The Hon. Mr. II , had a
lady aged 37, and a nephew aged 23. The
parties eloped—some saying that the youth
was the seduced, not the seducer. lie is spok
en of as Mr. M . On-Tuesday they met,
near the Regent Park, and the duel was on the
point of taking place, w-hen a carriage and four
! rapidly dashed up, and a lady jumped out —
She made for the place of combat, but ere she
reached the combattants, they had exchanged
shots, and a brace of bullets had entered the
body of her much lamented husband. She ex
claimed, ‘I have murdered him! guilty wretch
that I am!’ She threw herself on the ground
by his side—tore her garments to staunch the
blood which rapidly gushed from his wound—
fetched water from an adjacent spring to cast
in his face—and bathed his cold forehead with
her repentant tears. When the husband re
vived, he was agitated, beyond measure, at
seeing at his side the w-oman whom he had
much trusted, by whom he had been much
wronged. He fainted again, and the lady was j
taken away. Since then she has not seen him,
but it is said she has made two attempts on
her life. The husband was, at first, believed
to be mortally wounded, but it is now said that
lie hus some chance of recovery. The neph
ew has fled to France.
You may be curious to know how success
ful authors aro paid here. I can name one.—
For both series of the Random Recollections
of Lords and Commons, Mr. Janies Grant re
ceived nearly £SOO, his publisher making
£ 1500. Os the first series of the Great Me
tropolis, 1300 copies have gone off, and a third
edition is in the press. For this and the se
cond series lie has got £OOO. From £250 to
300 pounds is quiu; a high price for anew
work.
The late W. P. Scargill, author of a novel
called ‘The Usurer’s Daughter,’left a work be
hind him, which is in the press, for the benefit j
of his widow, and is called the ‘Widow’s Os- j
fering.’
Tom Moore is gone to Paris with his eldest;
son. He intends making use, for the subse
quent volumes of his History of Ireland, of the
immense collection of historical manuscripts
. once belonging to the Irish College at Paris,
i and now in the Library of the King. [Boston
| Herald. _
_ [From the New York Star.]
Biography of King William. It strikes
me that it cannot be out of place, here, to give
you a brief sketch of the leading events in the
life of the late monarch.
William Henry, third son of George 111.,
was bom on August 21, 17G5. His childhood
presents nothing worthy of notice, except that
Mrs. Chapone, the authoress, describes him as
being-a lively, small, manly child, and fond of
fun.
In 1 778, he was entered midshipman under
the command of Captain Digby, in the Royal
George, a9B gun ship. This was towards the
close of the American war. George 111,
though a very obstinate man, had a fair share
of common sense, and determined that his son
should work his way up in the navy, the same
as any other man’s son. He was compelled to
rough it, accordingly.
He had not been twelve months in the ser
vice, when he had the good luck to be present
at the capture of the Caraccas. This was the
engagement between Lord Rodney and the
Spanish Admiral, Don Juande Langara. The
Spaniard was taken prisoner, and brought on
board the Royal George. Here he saw Prince
William Henry in his shirt sleeves working
away with the other middies, and exclaimed,
‘well may England be mistress of the ocean,
when the son of her king is thus employed in
her service.’
Subsequently, the Prince was in action at
the capture of a French man of war, and three
vessels, and served during much of his time as
midshipman in the West Indies and off Nova
Scotia and Canada.
In 1782 he passed the winter in New York.
He appears there, to have become noted as a
bold spirited, gallant youth, with the constitu
tional courage of his family.
While he was in New York, a bold plan was
concocted to carry him off from among his
friends and comrades. The deviser of this
daring project was Colonel Ogden, a gallant
officer in tile revolutionary army, and who,
with his regiment, was stationed in New
Jersey.
At this time the Prince was living on shore,
with Admiral Digby, and as no danger was
apprehended, their quarters were very slightly
guarded. Ogdon’s plan was to land secretly
on a stormy night, with a small and bold band,
to capture and carry off the Admiral and the
Prince, and to take them to New Jersey.—
Washington sanctioned the plan, because he
thought if successful, he would the sooner and
the better make terms with England for the
acknowledgment of American Independence.
His directions to Ogden (dated 28th March,
1782) were that no insult or indignity should
be offered to the Admiral or the Prince, and
that they should be conveyed to Congress.
The plan was not executed. Sir Henry
Clinton got a hint of it, and took care that the
guards should be doubled, and every precau
tion taken for the security of the Admiral and
Prince. The plan ivas thus disappointed.
In 1785, the Prince was made Lieutenant.
The following year, he was appointed Captain
of the Pegasus, and in 1790 was made Rear
Admiral of the Blue. This last appointment
was made by Order in Council.
In May, 1789, he was made Duke of Clar
ence and St. Andrews, and Earl of Munster.
This, it is said, w-as delayed until he had re
peatedly rClUUUStXßHfrL.UUih±haluncr L*o
on the delay of giving him a peerage. He
swore, in a sailor like Fashion, that if he could
not get a seat in the Lords, he would purchase
a seat in the Commons. He had actually lodg
ed the money (£2000) to effect this.
The title of Duke of Clarence had not been
held, I believe, since the time when it was held
by the gentleman who was drowned in the butt
of nmlmsley. When yet a child he had been
nominated to the rank of Knight of the Garter.
In 1770, the child— old—was made
Knight of the Thistle, being the first member
of the royal family who had, except George
111, worn that order since it was revived by
James 11, in 1(587.
Although made Rear Admiral, the Duke of
Clarence did not get any active command.
This galled him amazingly, and he was so
piqued that he withdrew from the navy in a
great measure.
In 1791, the Duke commenced the well
known liaison with the celebrated Mrs. Jordan
—it lasted for twenty years. The idea was
that she was twenty three years old at the
time of its commencement, but there is reason
to believe that she was seven years older.—
She was however, a very beautiful and fascin
ating creature—full of life and spirits—the
embodiment of hilarity. She had, also, good
temper, and it is said during the 25 years of
their acquaintance she and the Duke never
quarreled.
The fruits of this intercourse was a large
; Uid fine family—the eldest of whom is now
Earl of Munster. They all married well—into
the first families in the kingdom. Eight chil
dren out of ten survive.
The Duke and Mrs. Jordan lived happily to
gether until 1811, when it was suddenly broken
up. The cause Iras been never exactly known.
I believe, in truth, the Duke was tired of the
damn. The woman of 55 was less attractive
than the woman of 20. She retired to France
on an allowance of £3OO a year, and died in
181(5, in poverty—caused by giving blank ac
ceptances to a friend. She was not, however,
in absolute want, as has been reported.
In 1811, the Duke was made Admiral of the
Fleet, in place of Sir Peter Parker. In 1814,
he hoisted his flag, on being appointed to con
voy the Count de Province (Louis XVIII) to
France. Early in 1814 the Duke of Clarence
was present en amateur, with the British troops
at Antwerp, under command of Lord Lyndock.
He was, at the same time, in the midst of the
melee Marxem.
On the death of the Princess Charlotte, in
1817, it was considered politic that there should
be a batch of royal marriages ‘to keep up the
stock.’ The Duke married Adelaide, eldest
daughter of die Duke of Saxe Meininger.—
The marriage took place at Kew, in July 1818
—two children, who died young, were the on
ly issue.
In 1827, tiie Duke was made Lord High
Admiral of England. In this capacity he gave
satisfaction to the naval service, invariably
giving promotion to poor and well meriting
officers. But, at the close of 1828, the Duke
of Wellington—then Premier— removed him
from the situation. It was as Lord High Ad
miral that the celebrated ‘Go it Ned’ letter to
Sir Edward Codrington was said to have been
written. The fact is,—and this I state on
the authority of an autograph communication
to myself from Sir Edward—no such epistle
ever was w-ritten.
The Duke of Clarence, before he was King,
mixed very slightly in politics. Re spoke on
the Queen’s trial, in 1820, and sided with his
brother against her. In 1829 he spoke in fa-
Vor of Catholic Emancipation.
Iri June 1830, he became King, and contin
ued the Duke of Wellington in office. At once
he became popular—for he had showed himself
to and among the people, which George-IV
had studiedly avoided. He walked, unattend
ed, through various parts of London, and thus
gained popularity, which he liked.
In November 1830, the Duke of Welling
ton’s cabinet was broken up. What followed
is well known—the appointment of Lord Grey
and the enactment of the Reform Bill. In 1831 ’
the coronation took place, in such an unexpen
sive manner as compared with that of 1821
that the wits called it a Italf-crownalion. Short
ly after the King called his bastard son to the
peerage, as Earl of Munster, and gave the title
and precedence of a Marquis’ children to his
other illegitimate sons and daughters.
It is said that, at the same time he offered an
Earldom to Colonel D’Este, son of the Duke of
Sussex by Lady Augusta Murray. The par
ties had been lawfully married at Rome, but
Parliament declared it null and void, as con
trary to the provisions of the royal marriage
act Colonel D’Est© said ‘No Sire. lam the
legitimate son of my father, and cannot de
scend to the doubtful situation of your sons
by taking the rank you give them. The son
of the Duke of Sessex wants no patent of no
bility to give him rank!’
In November 1834, the Reform Ministry
suddenly went out The Ministry of Peel fol
lowed—broken up in April 1835—and the
Whigs again came in, by the aid of O’Connell
and ‘the Tail.’
On May 24, the Princess Victoria became
of age—lß. The Queen was unable from ill
health to take any part in the festivities on this
occasion.
Early this month the King was seized with
severe illness—it gr€w worse and worse, and
on the 20th jnst all that was mortal of Wil
liam IV. had ceased.
The character of the late monarch may be
summed up in a few words. He was an hon
est, plain-spoken, blunt man. He always
meant well, but he often' acted absurdly. Ho
loved his country, and wished to see all men
happy around him.
William IV. remained in full possession of
all his faculties until the hour of his death.
During the last ten days of his illness, he was
uneasy if he missed the Queen from his side,
and it is a fact that during the whole of that
time, so attentive was she day and night, that
she actually had no time to take off her clothes.
What rest she took was in a chair by his bed
side. They were certainly a model for mar
ried people. The King was nearly twenty
years older than the Queen.
By an act passed in 1831, the Queen Dow
ager lias a pension of £IOO,OOO, and the use
of two palaces; Marlborough House, which
was the residence of Prince Leopold, and
Bushy Park, where—the other palace being
much out of repair—she will reside in the
summer. Queen Adelaide continues at Wind
sor Castle, but is preparing to leave it
On Monday, being the anniversary of the
battle of Waterloo, the flag which the Duke of
Wellington must send in homage as the ten
ure on which he holds the estate of Straths
fieldsaye, was transmitted to the King. He
took it in his hand and said, ‘Ah, that was a
glorious day for England.’ He turned to Dr.
*n«i anU ‘Vov mwr*t Keep me alive
one day more or the Duke cannot have his
Waterloo dinner. You must tinker me up for
this one day.’
He took no formal leave of his family. They
were sent for, when he knew his danger to be
immediate, and remained with him until he
died.
The Duke of Cambridge, Viceroy of Han
over, was his only relative, except the Princess
Victoria, who was not with him during his last
illness.
The Duchess of Kent and Princess Victo
ria, did not, it is remarked, send any inquiries
to Windsor as to the King’s health. Perhaps
this was the result of a very intelligible feel
ing of delicacy on the part of the heiress to
the throne.
The King’s funeral will take place on July
G. .His body has been embalmed—much wa
ter was found in the cavity of the chest Dur
ing the fe'M last days of his life, the King sat
on his couch, with his chest resting on an easy
chair to mitigate the great pain caused by his
severe cough.
A post mortem cast of his face and head has
been taken for his children. His domestics at
Windsor were admitted to see his body, which
has been deposited in a shell, as decomposi
tion had commenced. The funeral will be al
most private, by his own desire.
The public mourning will be general. It
commences, from this day, by an order from
the Lord Chamberlain. ,
The King signed some neccessary docu
ments the day before he died.
Every shop in London was closed out of re
spect to the late King.
The proclamation of Queen Victoria took
place on Wednesday. The Queen arrived at
St James’s Palace, and was present when,with
the usual state, this was done. She wars led
to the window, according to form, and was
hailed by the cheers of the multitude. The
proclamation took place also in the city of
London.
She held a council, and gave numerous au
diences ; chiefly to official persons. She then
went back to Kensington.
On Thursday evening, a message from the
Queen was read in Lords and Commons, re
questing them to expediate public business, as
there must be a dissolution of Parliament The
oath of allegience to the Queen is ‘saving the
rights of any issue to his late Majesty, by his
consort, Queen Adelaide.’ On Tuesday the
oath named Queen Alexandria Victoria but
since then it is Victoria alone, such being her
signature.
What her policy may be no one knows. I /
think it will not be very decided. To Lord
Melbourne she appears to have a personal dis
like ; perhaps on account of the Norton case.
The Duke of Cumberland is now King of
Hanover; he swore allegiance to his niece,
and took his seat in the Lords. Ho has left
England for Hanover.
Among those of the Commons who have
taken the oaths, is General Evans. He was
hailed with much applause.
Thf. Royal Family of Great Britain.— I
His late Majesty, William IV. was born Aug. ,
21st, 17(55, married July 11, 1818, to Adelaide
Amelia Louisa Teresa Caroline, eldest daugh- *
ter of the Duke of Saxe Meinigen, bom Aug
-153, 1792. The King died June 20,1837, aged
nearly 72.
His successor, the present Queen of Great j
Britain, &c. Alexandria Victoria, (daughter ot
the late Duke of brother to William