The Creevey Papers
        Thomas Creevey to Elizabeth Ord, 11 November 1820
        
        
          
        
        
          
        
       
      
      
      
      
     
     
    
     York Street, 11th Nov. 
    
     “I was a bad boy for the first
                                        time last night, and drank an extra bottle of claret with Foley, Dundas, ![]()
| 1819-20.] | THE BILL ABANDONED. | 339 | 
![]() Western, &c., &c., in the midst of
                                    our brilliant illuminations at Brooks’s: not that I was the least screwy, but it has made me somewhat nervous. . . . We
                                    could distinctly see there were high words between Liverpool and Eldon before
                                    the former struck his colours, and when he moved the further consideration that
                                    day six months, Eldon answered with a very distinct and
                                    audible ‘Not content.’ It is quite impossible any human
                                    being could have disgraced himself more than the Duke
                                        of Clarence. When his name was called in the division on the 3rd
                                    reading, he leaned over the rail of the gallery as far into the House as he
                                    could, and then halloed—‘Content,’ with a yell that
                                    would quite have become a savage. The Duke of
                                        York followed with his ‘Content’ delivered
                                    with singular propriety. . . . It must always be remembered to the credit of
                                    our hereditary aristocracy that a decided majority voted against this wicked
                                    Bill. It was the two sets of Union Peers* and these villains of the
                                    Church† that nearly destroyed for ever the character of the House of
                                    Lords. However, thank God it is no worse.
                                    Western, &c., &c., in the midst of
                                    our brilliant illuminations at Brooks’s: not that I was the least screwy, but it has made me somewhat nervous. . . . We
                                    could distinctly see there were high words between Liverpool and Eldon before
                                    the former struck his colours, and when he moved the further consideration that
                                    day six months, Eldon answered with a very distinct and
                                    audible ‘Not content.’ It is quite impossible any human
                                    being could have disgraced himself more than the Duke
                                        of Clarence. When his name was called in the division on the 3rd
                                    reading, he leaned over the rail of the gallery as far into the House as he
                                    could, and then halloed—‘Content,’ with a yell that
                                    would quite have become a savage. The Duke of
                                        York followed with his ‘Content’ delivered
                                    with singular propriety. . . . It must always be remembered to the credit of
                                    our hereditary aristocracy that a decided majority voted against this wicked
                                    Bill. It was the two sets of Union Peers* and these villains of the
                                    Church† that nearly destroyed for ever the character of the House of
                                    Lords. However, thank God it is no worse. 
    
     “I have said nothing to you of my City feast. . . .
                                    My attention was directed to a much more splendid object‡—the
                                        Princess Olivia of Cumberland.§ No
                                    one can have any doubts of the royalty of her birth. She
                                    is the very image of our Royal family. Her person is upon the model of the
                                        Princess Elizabeth,‖ 
|  * The Representative Peers of Scotland and Ireland.   † The Bishops.   ‡ Than Madame Oldi, whom
                                            he has described.   § This remarkable woman, Olive Wilmot Serres, presented a petition to the House
                                            of Commons, 14th July, 1820, setting forth that she was the legitimate
                                            daughter of William, Duke of
                                                Cumberland, second son of George II., and claiming
                                            recognition as such. She was the daughter of a house painter in Warwick
                                            named Wilmot, and married a foreigner named
                                                Serres, by profession a painter. Her striking
                                            resemblance to the royal family seems to have convinced many persons of
                                            the truth of her story, which was totally unsupported by any valid
                                            evidence. [See Annual Register, vol. lxii. p. 331; and vol.
                                            xliii. p. 150.]   ‖ Third daughter of George
                                                III., married in 1818 to Frederick, Landgrave of Hesse-Homburg.  | 
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                                    ![]()
| 340 | THE CREEVEY PAPERS | [Ch XIII. | 
![]() only at least three times her size. She wore the most
                                    brilliant rose-coloured satin gown you ever saw, with fancy shawls (more than
                                    one) flung in different forms over her shoulders, after the manner of the late
                                        Lady Hamilton. Then she had diamonds
                                    in profusion hung from every part of her head but her nose, and the whole was
                                    covered with feathers that would have done credit to any hearse. Well! after
                                    another quarter of an hour we all took the field again—the Lord Mayor at our head, and the gentle
                                        Lansdowne following with dear
                                        Miss Thorpe* under his arm. As we approached the great
                                    splendid hall, the procession halted for nearly ten minutes, which we in the
                                    rear could not comprehend. It turned out that Princess Olivia of
                                        Cumberland had made her claim as Princess of the Blood to sit at
                                    the right hand of my Lord Mayor. The worthy magistrate, however, with great
                                    spirit resisted these pretensions, and, after much altercation . . . she was
                                    compelled to retreat to another table, leaving the three Miss
                                        Thorpes the only ladies who had the honor to be surrounded by
                                    our English nobility. . . . The company assembled in the hall were nine hundred
                                    in number, ladies and gentlemen, at five tables. . . . We were marched entirely
                                    round the hall, till we arrived at the top, where a table on a slight elevation
                                    went across the hall for us guests. Western’s great delight was three men in complete armour
                                    from top to toe, with immense plumes of feathers upon their helmets. They were
                                    seated in three niches in the wall over our table. . . . It was their duty to
                                    rise and wave their truncheons when the Lord Mayor rose and gave his toasts;
                                    which they did with great effect, till one of them fainted away with heat and
                                    fell out of his hole upon the heads of the people below. . . .
 only at least three times her size. She wore the most
                                    brilliant rose-coloured satin gown you ever saw, with fancy shawls (more than
                                    one) flung in different forms over her shoulders, after the manner of the late
                                        Lady Hamilton. Then she had diamonds
                                    in profusion hung from every part of her head but her nose, and the whole was
                                    covered with feathers that would have done credit to any hearse. Well! after
                                    another quarter of an hour we all took the field again—the Lord Mayor at our head, and the gentle
                                        Lansdowne following with dear
                                        Miss Thorpe* under his arm. As we approached the great
                                    splendid hall, the procession halted for nearly ten minutes, which we in the
                                    rear could not comprehend. It turned out that Princess Olivia of
                                        Cumberland had made her claim as Princess of the Blood to sit at
                                    the right hand of my Lord Mayor. The worthy magistrate, however, with great
                                    spirit resisted these pretensions, and, after much altercation . . . she was
                                    compelled to retreat to another table, leaving the three Miss
                                        Thorpes the only ladies who had the honor to be surrounded by
                                    our English nobility. . . . The company assembled in the hall were nine hundred
                                    in number, ladies and gentlemen, at five tables. . . . We were marched entirely
                                    round the hall, till we arrived at the top, where a table on a slight elevation
                                    went across the hall for us guests. Western’s great delight was three men in complete armour
                                    from top to toe, with immense plumes of feathers upon their helmets. They were
                                    seated in three niches in the wall over our table. . . . It was their duty to
                                    rise and wave their truncheons when the Lord Mayor rose and gave his toasts;
                                    which they did with great effect, till one of them fainted away with heat and
                                    fell out of his hole upon the heads of the people below. . . . 
    
     “It is an abominable outrage to leave the Queen till February or the end of January
                                    without addresses from the two Houses upon her coming to the Throne, and
                                    without making any pecuniary provision for her; but so it will be, for of
                                    course the Black Rod will tap at our
                                    door on the 23rd the moment the Speaker is
                                    in the chair, and thus Parliament will be prorogued 
|  * The Lord Mayor’s daughter.  | 
![]() 
                                    ![]()
| 1819-20.] | THE PROGROGATION. | 341 | 
![]() before a word of complaint can be
                                    uttered on this shameful conduct. Thank God, however, whoever is Minister has a
                                    pleasant time before him. The people have learnt a great lesson from this
                                    wicked proceeding: they have learnt how to marshal and organise themselves, and
                                    they have learnt at the same time the success of their strength. Waithman, who has just called upon me, tells
                                    me that the arrangements made in every parish in and about London on this
                                    occasion are perfectly miraculous—quite new in their nature—and
                                    that they will be of eternal application in all our public affairs. . . . They
                                    say the river below bridge to-day is the most beautiful sight in the world;
                                    every vessel is covered with colors, and at the head of the tallest mast in the
                                    river is the effigy of a Bishop, 20 or 30 feet in length, with his heels
                                    uppermost, hanging from the masthead.
 before a word of complaint can be
                                    uttered on this shameful conduct. Thank God, however, whoever is Minister has a
                                    pleasant time before him. The people have learnt a great lesson from this
                                    wicked proceeding: they have learnt how to marshal and organise themselves, and
                                    they have learnt at the same time the success of their strength. Waithman, who has just called upon me, tells
                                    me that the arrangements made in every parish in and about London on this
                                    occasion are perfectly miraculous—quite new in their nature—and
                                    that they will be of eternal application in all our public affairs. . . . They
                                    say the river below bridge to-day is the most beautiful sight in the world;
                                    every vessel is covered with colors, and at the head of the tallest mast in the
                                    river is the effigy of a Bishop, 20 or 30 feet in length, with his heels
                                    uppermost, hanging from the masthead. 
    
     “I enclose a little love-letter I got from Lady Holland some days since. It was preceded by
                                    a message to the same effect a day or two before; but, as you may suppose, I
                                    have taken no notice of either.”* 
    
    Queen Caroline of Brunswick-Wolfenbüttel  (1768-1821)  
                  Married the Prince of Wales in 1795 and separated in 1796; her husband instituted
                        unsuccessful divorce proceedings in 1820 when she refused to surrender her rights as
                        queen.
               
 
    
    Princess Elizabeth  (1770-1840)  
                  Daughter of George III and Queen Charlotte, and consort of Friedrich VI of
                        Hesse-Homburg.
               
 
    
    Thomas Foley, third baron Foley  (1780-1833)  
                  Whig peer, the son of the second baron (d. 1793); educated under Samuel Parr at Hatton
                        and at Christ Church, Oxford, he was a privy councillor and Lord-Lieutenant of
                        Worcestershire (1831-33).
               
 
    Elizabeth Fox, Lady Holland  [née Vassall]   (1771 c.-1845)  
                  In 1797 married Henry Richard Fox, Lord Holland, following her divorce from Sir Godfrey
                        Webster; as mistress of Holland House she became a pillar of Whig society.
               
 
    
    Frederick Augustus, Duke of York  (1763-1827)  
                  He was commander-in-chief of the Army, 1798-1809, until his removal on account of the
                        scandal involving his mistress Mary Anne Clarke.
               
 
    
    
    
    John Scott, first earl of Eldon  (1751-1838)  
                  Lord chancellor (1801-27); he was legal counsel to the Prince of Wales and an active
                        opponent of the Reform Bill.
               
 
    
    
    John Thomas Thorp  (1776-1835)  
                  He was MP for London (1818), Lord Mayor (1820), and MP for Arundel (1826, 1830,
                        1831).
               
 
    Sir Thomas Tyrwhitt  (1762-1833)  
                  The nephew of the scholar of the same name; he was educated at Eton and Christ Church,
                        Oxford, and was MP for Okehampton (796-1802), Portarlington (1802-06) and Plymouth
                        (1806-12), private secretary to the Duke of Clarence, and Black Rod.
               
 
    Robert Waithman  (1764-1833)  
                  Political reformer, MP, and Lord Mayor of London (1823-24); he was a linen-draper by
                        trade.
               
 
    Charles Callis Western, baron Western  (1767-1844)  
                  Of Rivenhall in Essex, politician and agricultural reformer; he was educated at Eton and
                        Queens' College, Cambridge and was MP for Maldon (1790-1812) and Essex (1812-32). He was a
                        school friend of Thomas Creevey.