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 v 
 
 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS 
 
 A JOURNAL OF THE REIGNS OF 
 
 KING GEORGE IV. AND KING 
 WILLIAM IV. 
 
 BY 
 
 CHARLES C. F. GREVILLE 
 
 CLERK OF THE COUNCIL TO THOSE SOVEREIGNS 
 
 EDITED BY 
 
 RICHARD HENRY STODDARD 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 SCRIBNER, ARMSTRONG, AND COMPANY 
 ,,. ,.,1875 , ; ** ,,-; 3
 
 Kntered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1875, by 
 
 SCRIBNEK, ARMSTRONG, AND COMPANT, 
 hi the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washingu-i>. 
 
 klVERSlDE, CAMBRIDGE! 
 
 BTEREOTYPEl) AND PRINTED CY 
 II. O. HOUGHTON AND COMPANY.
 
 IDA 
 536* 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 IF the American reader of the Greville Memoirs 
 requires an explanation of the circumstances 
 under which they were written, and which have 
 led to their publication, it is furnished by their English 
 editor, Mr. Henry Reeve. "The author of these Journals 
 requested me," he writes, "in January, 1865, a few days 
 before his death, to take charge of them with a view to 
 publication at some future time. He left that time to my 
 discretion, merely remarking that Memoirs of this kind 
 ought not, in his opinion, to be locked up until they had 
 lost their principal interest by the death of all those who 
 had taken any part in the events they describe. He 
 placed several of the earlier volumes at once in my hands, 
 and he intimated to his surviving brother and executor, 
 Mr. Henry Greville, his desire that the remainder should 
 be given me for this purpose. The injunction was at once 
 complied with after Mr. Charles Greville's death, and this 
 interesting deposit has now remained for nearly ten years 
 in my possession. In my opinion this period of time is 
 long enough to remove every reasonable objection to the 
 publication of a contemporary record of events already 
 separated from us by a much longer interval, for the 
 transactions related in these volumes commence in 1818, 
 
 428527
 
 Vi PREFACE. 
 
 and end in 1837. I therefore commit to the press that 
 portion of these Memoirs which embraces the reigns of 
 King George IV. and King William IV., ending with the 
 accession of her present Majesty. 
 
 " In accepting the trust and deposit which Mr. Greville 
 thought fit to place in my hands, I felt, and still feel, that 
 I undertook a task and a duty of considerable responsi- 
 bility ; but from the time and the manner in which it was 
 offered me I could not decline it. I had lived for more 
 than five and twenty years in the daily intercourse of 
 official life and private friendship with Mr. Greville. Sir 
 George Cornewall Lewis, to whom he had previously in- 
 tended to leave these Journals, died before him. After 
 that event, deeply to be regretted on so many accounts, 
 Mr. Greville did me the honor to select me for the per- 
 formance of this duty, which was unexpected by myself ; 
 and my strong attachment and gratitude to him for num- 
 berless acts of kindness and marks of confidence bound 
 me by every consideration to obey and execute the wishes 
 of my late friend. 
 
 " In the discharge of this trust I have been guided by no 
 other motive than the desire to present these Memorials 
 to the world in a manner which their Author would not 
 have disapproved, and in strict conformity with his own 
 wishes and injunctions. He, himself, it should be said, 
 had frequently revised them with great care. He had 
 studiously omitted and erased passages relating to private 
 persons or affairs, which could only serve to gratify the 
 love of idle gossip and scandal. The Journals contain 
 absolutely nothing relating to his own family, and but 
 little relating to his private life. In a passage (not now 
 published) of his own writings, the Author remarks : 
 4 A journal to be good, true, and interesting, should be
 
 PREFACE. Vli 
 
 written without the slightest reference to publication, but 
 without any fear of it ; it should be the transcript of a 
 mind that can bear transcribing. I always contemplate 
 the possibility that hereafter my journal will be read, and 
 I regard with alarm and dislike the notion of its contain- 
 ing matters about myself which nobody will care to know.' 
 {January zd, 1838.) 
 
 " These notes were designed chiefly to preserve a record 
 of the less known causes and details of public events 
 which came under the Author's observation, and they are 
 interspersed with the conversations of many of the emi- 
 nent men with whom he associated. But it must be borne 
 in mind that they are essentially what they profess to be 
 a contemporary record of facts and opinions, not al- 
 tered or made up to square with subsequent experience. 
 Hence some facts may be inaccurately stated, because 
 they are given in the shape they assumed at the time they 
 were recorded, and some opinions and judgments on 
 men and things are at variance (as he himself acknowl- 
 edges and points out) with those at which the writer 
 afterwards arrived on the same persons and subjects. 
 Our impressions of what is passing around us vary so 
 rapidly and so continually, that a contemporary record 
 of opinion, honestly preserved, differs very widely from 
 the final and mature judgment of history : yet the judg- 
 ment of history must be based upon contemporary evi- 
 dence. It was remarked by an acute observer to Mr. 
 Greville himself, that the nuances in political society are 
 so delicate and numerous, the details so nice and vary- 
 ing, that unless caught at the moment, they escape, and it 
 is impossible to collect them again. That is the charm 
 and the merit of genuine contemporary records. 
 
 " The two leading qualities in the mind of Mr. Greville
 
 Vlii PREFACE. 
 
 were the love of truth and the love of justice. His 
 natural curiosity, which led him to track out and analyze 
 the causes of events with great eagerness, was stimulated 
 by the desire to arrive at their real origin, and to award 
 to every one, with judicial impartiality, what appeared to 
 him to be a just share of responsibility. Without the 
 passions or the motives of a party politician, he ardently 
 sympathized with the cause of Liberal progress and Con- 
 servative improvement, or, as he himself expresses it, 
 with Conservative principles on a Liberal basis. He was 
 equally opposed to the prejudices of the old Tory aris- 
 tocracy, amongst whom he had been brought up, and to 
 the impetuous desire of change which achieved in his 
 time so many vast and various triumphs. His own posi- 
 tion, partly from the nature of the permanent office he 
 held in the Privy Council, and partly from his personal 
 intimacies with men of very opposite opinions, was a 
 neutral one ; but he used that neutral position with con- 
 summate judgment and address to remove obstacles, to 
 allay irritations, to compose differences, and to promote, 
 as far as lay in his power, the public welfare. Contented 
 with his own social position, he was alike free from ambi- 
 tion and from vanity. No man was more entirely disin- 
 terested in his judgments on public affairs, for he had 
 long made up his mind that he had nothing to gain or 
 to lose by them, and in the opinions he formed, and on 
 occasion energetically maintained, he cared for nothing 
 but their justice and their truth. I trust that I do not 
 deceive myself in the belief that the impressions of such 
 a man, faithfully rendered at the time, on the events hap- 
 pening around him, will be thought to possess a perma- 
 nent value and interest. But I am aware that opinions 
 governed by no party standard will appear to a certain
 
 PREFACE. ix 
 
 extent to be fluctuating and even inconsistent. I have 
 not thought it consistent with my duty as the Editor of 
 these papers to suppress or modify any of the statements 
 or opinions of their Author on public men or public 
 events nor do I hold myself in any way responsible for 
 the tenor of them. Some of these judgments of the 
 writer may be thought harsh and severe, and some of 
 them were subsequently mitigated by himself. But those 
 who enter public life submit their conduct and their lives 
 to the judgment of their contemporaries and of posterity, 
 and this is especially true of those who fill the most 
 exalted stations in society. Every act, almost every 
 thought, which is brought home to them leaves its mark, 
 and those who come after them cannot complain that 
 this mark is as indelible as their fame. The only omis- 
 sions I have thought it right to make are a few pas- 
 sages and expressions relating to persons and occurrences 
 in private life, in which I have sought to publish nothing 
 which could give pain or annoyance to persons still 
 alive." 
 
 " Of the author of these Journals," continues Mr. Reeve, 
 "it may suffice to say that Charles Cavendish Fulke 
 Greville was the eldest of the three sons of Charles Gre- 
 ville (who was grandson of the fifth Lord Warwick), by 
 Lady Charlotte Cavendish Bentinck, eldest daughter of 
 William Henry, third Duke of Portland, K. G., who filled 
 many great offices of state. He was born on the 2d of 
 April, 1794. Much of his childhood was spent at his 
 grandfather's house at Bulstrode. He was educated at 
 Eton and at Christ Church, Oxford ; but he left the Uni- 
 versity early, having been appointed private secretary to 
 Earl Bathurst before he was twenty. 
 
 "The influence of the Duke of Portland obtained for
 
 X PREFACE. 
 
 him early in life the sinecure appointment of the secretary- 
 ship of Jamaica, the duties of that office being performed 
 by deputy, and likewise the reversion of the clerkship of 
 the council. He entered in 1821 upon the duties of 
 clerk of the council in ordinary, which he discharged for 
 nearly forty years. During the last twenty years of his 
 life Mr. Greville occupied a suite of rooms in the house 
 of Earl Granville in Bruton Street, and there, on the i8th 
 of January, 1865, he expired. I was with him on the pre- 
 vious evening until he retired to rest ; from that sleep he 
 never woke. 
 
 " No additions whatever have been made to the text of 
 these Journals. The passages occasionally interposed in 
 a parenthesis, at a later date, to correct or comment upon 
 a previous statement, are all by the hand of the author." 
 
 The Greville Memoirs have attracted a larger share 
 of attention than any work of the kind which has seen 
 the light within the last twenty years. They have been 
 widely read in England, in spite of their voluminousness, 
 and the antiquated nature of many of the events which 
 they chronicle, and they will be more widely read in 
 America. But not in their entirety. As originally pub- 
 lished they contain much that is uninteresting, not to say 
 tiresome, to readers of to-day. The political movements 
 which Greville describes so minutely were important, no 
 doubt, to the actors therein, but the issues involved were 
 for the most part temporary, and are now obsolete. The 
 historical student may be attracted to them, but the aver- 
 age reader will be repelled. He will do what I have 
 done for him here he will skip. 
 
 The great charm of Greville's Journals is their manli- 
 ness. A franker, more independent gentleman never
 
 PREFACE. xi 
 
 committed his thoughts to paper. He judged his con- 
 temporaries and associates impartially. The most strik- 
 ing examples of his personal insight are his characteriza- 
 tions of Brougham and Wellington, who start into life 
 under his spirited and masterly hand. Not less happy 
 in the line of historical portraiture are his sketches of 
 George IV. and William IV. The divinity that doth 
 hedge a king was not apparent to him. Royalty fares as 
 hardly with him as with Thackeray, and its living English 
 representative, it is said, does not approve of his Journals. 
 She appears to great advantage, but whether this advan- 
 tage will be maintained in the portions which are still 
 unpublished, and which cover the first twenty-four years 
 of her reign, may be questioned, when one considers the 
 strong personality of Greville, the keenness of his ob- 
 servation, and the severity of his judgment. However 
 this may be, we have the authority of Mr. Reeve for 
 stating that many years must elapse before the more 
 recent portions of these Journals can with propriety be 
 published. 
 
 The moral of the Greville Memoirs, and the best motto 
 that could be prefixed to them, is the sagacious remark of 
 the wise old Chancellor Oxenstiern, " You do not know 
 yet, my son, with how little wisdom mankind is gov- 
 erned." R. H. S.
 
 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS."'"' 
 
 A JOURNAL OF THE REIGNS OF KING GEORGE THE 
 FOURTH AND WILLIAM THE FOURTH. 
 
 1818. 
 
 BEGAN to keep a Journal some time ago, and, after 
 continuing it irregularly, dropped it entirely. I have 
 since felt tempted to resume it, because, having fre- 
 quent opportunities of mixing in the society of cele- 
 brated men, some particulars about them might be interesting 
 hereafter. 
 
 June -jth. The dissolution of Parliament is deferred on 
 account of the mistakes which have been made in passing the 
 Alien Bill. On Friday night the exultation of the opposition 
 was very great at what they deemed a victory over the minis- 
 ters. It is said that there will be one hundred contests, and 
 that government will lose twenty or thirty members. The 
 Queen was so ill on Friday evening that they expected she 
 would die. She had a severe spasm. 1 
 
 The Duchess of Cambridge 2 has been received in a most 
 
 1 Queen Charlotte, consort of George III., died on the i7th of November of this 
 year, 1818. 
 
 2 Prince Adolphus Frederick, Duke of Cambridge, seventh son of George III., 
 married on the 7th of May, 1818, Augusta Wilhelmina Louisa Princess of Hesse, 
 youngest daughter of the Landgrave of Hesse-Cassel. Ernest, Duke of Cumber- 
 land, the King's fourth son, married on the 2gth of August, 1815, at Strelitz, the 
 Princess Frederica, third daughter of the Duke of Mecklenburg-Strelitz. This lady 
 had been twice married before, first to Prince Frederic Louis Charles of Prussia, and 
 secondly to the Prince of Salms-Braunfels. As the Duchess of Cumberland had 
 been divorced from her last husband, the Queen received her with great coldness ; 
 
 I
 
 2 THE GREVJLLE MEMOIRS. [1818. 
 
 flattering manner here, and it is said that the Duchess of 
 Cumberland is severely mortified at the contrast between her 
 reception and that of her sister-in-law. On the Sunday after 
 her '-i.-ri-.-al the Duke took her to walk in the Park, when she 
 was so terrified by the pressure of the mob about her that she 
 ::c-r.r:v :";rni:ed a-,\ay. 
 
 'The Regent drives in the Park every day in a tilbury, with 
 his groom sitting by his side ; grave men are shocked at this 
 undignified practice. 
 
 June 2.\st. I dined at Holland House last Thursday. The 
 party consisted of Lord Lansdowne, Mr. Frere, and Mrs. Tier- 
 ney and her son. After dinner Mr. Frere repeated to us a 
 great deal of that part of " Whistlecraft : ' which is not yet pub- 
 lished. 1 I laughed whenever I could, but as I have never 
 read the first part, and did not understand the second, I was 
 not so much amused as the rest of the company. 
 
 August 4th. I went to Oatlands 2 on Saturday. There was 
 a very large party Mr. and Mrs. Burrell, Lord Alvanley, 
 Berkeley Craven, Cooke, Arthur Upton, Armstrong, Foley 
 Lord Lauderdale, Lake, Page, Lord Yarmouth. We played at 
 whist till four in the morning. On Sunday we amused our- 
 selves with eating fruit in the garden, and shooting at a mark 
 with pistols, and playing with the monkeys. I bathed in the 
 cold bath in the grotto, which is as clear as crystal and as cold 
 as ice. Oatlands is the worst managed establishment in Eng- 
 land ; there are a great many servants, and nobody waits on 
 you ; a vast number of horses, and none to ride or drive. 
 
 August i^th. The parties at Oatlands take place every 
 Saturday, and the guests go away on Monday morning. These 
 parties begin as soon as the Duchess leaves London, and last 
 till the October meetings. During the Egham races there is 
 a large party which remains there from the Saturday before 
 the races till the Monday se'nnight following ; this is called 
 
 and the position in which she was placed contrasted strongly with that of the Duch- 
 ess of Cambridge on her marriage. 
 
 1 The wliole poem of Whistlecraft has since been republished in the collected 
 works of the Right Hon. Hookham Frere. 
 
 1 Oatlands Park, Weybridge, at that time the residence of the Duke of York.
 
 1 8 1 8. 1 AT OA TLANDS. 3 
 
 the Duchess's party, and she invites the guests. The Duke 
 is only there himself from Saturday to Monday. There are 
 almost always the same people, sometimes more, sometimes 
 less. We dine at eight, and sit at table till eleven. In 
 about a quarter of an hour after we leave the dining-room the 
 Duke sits down to play at whist, and never stirs -from the 
 table as long as anybody will play with him. When anybody 
 gives any hint of being tired he will leave off, but if he sees 
 no signs of weariness in others he will never stop himself. 
 He is equally well amused whether the play is high or low, 
 but the stake he prefers is fives and ponies. 1 The Duchess 
 generally plays also at half-crown whist. The Duke always 
 gets up very early, whatever time he may go to bed. On Sun- 
 day morning he goes to church, returns to a breakfast of tea 
 and cold meat, and afterwards rides or walks till the evening. 
 On Monday morning he always sets off to London at nine 
 o'clock. He sleeps equally well in a bed or in a carriage. 
 The Duchess seldom goes to bed, or if she does only for an 
 hour or two ; she sleeps dressed upon a couch, sometimes in 
 one room, sometimes in another. She frequently walks out 
 very late at night, or rather early in the morning, and she 
 always sleeps with open windows. She dresses and break- 
 fasts at three o'clock, afterwards walks out with all her dogs, 
 and seldom appears before dinner-time. At night, when she 
 cannot sleep, she has women to read to her. The Duchess of 
 York 2 is clever and well-informed : she likes society and dis- 
 likes all form and ceremony, but in the midst of the most 
 familiar intercourse she always preserves a certain dignity of 
 manner. Those who are in the habit of going to Oatlands 
 are perfectly at their ease with her, and talk with as much 
 freedom as they would to any other woman, but always with 
 great respect. Her mind is not perhaps the most delicate ; 
 she shows no dislike to coarseness of sentiment or language, 
 and I have seen her very much amused with jokes, stories, 
 
 1 Five-pound points and twenty-five pounds on the rubber. 
 
 1 The Duchess of York was born Princess Royal of Prussia ; she married the 
 Duke of York in 1791, and died on the 6th of August, iSzo.
 
 4 THE GREVJLLE MEMOIRS. [1818. 
 
 and allusions which would shock a very nice person. But her 
 own conversation is never polluted with anything the least in- 
 delicate or unbecoming. She is very sensible to little atten- 
 tions, and is annoyed if anybody appears to keep aloof from 
 her or to shun conversing with her. Her dogs are her great- 
 est interest and amusement, and she has at least forty of vari- 
 ous kinds. She is delighted when anybody gives her a dog, 
 or a monkey, or a parrot, of all of which she has a vast num- 
 ber ; it is impossible to offend her or annoy her more than by 
 ill-using any of her dogs, and if she were to see anybody beat 
 or kick any one of them she would never forgive it. She has 
 always lived on good terms with the royal family, but is in- 
 timate with none of them, and goes as little as possible to 
 court. The Regent dislikes her, and she him. With the 
 Princess Charlotte she was latterly very intimate, spent a 
 great deal of time at Claremont, and felt her death very 
 severely. The Duchess has no taste for splendor or magnifi- 
 cence, and likes to live the life of a private individual as much 
 as possible. 
 
 The Duke of York is not cjever, but he has a justness of 
 understanding which enables him to avoid the errors into 
 which most of his brothers have fallen, and which have made 
 them so contemptible and unpopular. Although his talents 
 are not rated high, and in public life he has never been hon- 
 orably distinguished, the Duke of York is loved and re- 
 spected. He is the only one of the princes who has the feel- 
 ings of an English gentleman ; his amiable disposition and 
 excellent temper have conciliated for him the esteem and 
 regard of men of all parties, and he has endeared himself to 
 his friends by the warmth and steadiness of his attachments, 
 and from the implicit confidence they all have in his truth, 
 straightforwardness, and sincerity. He delights in the society 
 of men of the world and in a life of gayety and pleasure. He 
 is very easily amused, and particularly with jokes full of 
 coarseness and indelicacy ; the men with whom he lives most 
 are tres-polissons, and la polissonnerie is the ton of his society. 
 But his aides-de-camp and friends, while they do not scruple
 
 i8 1 8.] AT OA TLANDS. 5 
 
 to say everything before and to him, always treat him with at- 
 tention and respect. The Duke and the Duchess live upon 
 the best terms ; their manner to one another is cordial, and 
 while full of mutual respect and attention, they follow sepa- 
 rately their own occupations and amusements without inter- 
 fering with one another. Their friends are common to both, 
 and those who are most attached to the Duke are equally so 
 to the Duchess. One of her few foibles is an extreme tena- 
 ciousness of her authority at Oatlands ; one way in which this 
 is shown is in the stable, where, although there are always 
 eight or ten carriage-horses which seldom do any work, it is 
 impossible ever to procure a horse to ride or drive, because 
 the Duchess appropriates them all to herself. The other day 
 one of the aides-de-camp (Cooke) wanted to drive Burrell 
 (who was there) to Hampton Court ; he spoke of this at 
 breakfast, and the Duke hearing it, desired he would take the 
 curricle and two Spanish horses which had been given to him. 
 The Duchess, however, chose to call these horses hers and to 
 consider them as her own. The curricle came to the door, 
 and just as they were going to mount it a servant came from 
 the Duchess (who had heard of it) and told the coachman that 
 her Royal Highness knew nothing of it, had not ordered it, 
 and that the curricle must go home, which it accordingly did. 
 
 September ^d. I went to Oatlands for the Egham races. 
 The party lasted more than a week ; there was a great number 
 of people, and it was very agreeable. Erskine was extremely 
 mad ; he read me some of his verses, and we had a dispute 
 upon religious subjects one morning, which he finished by 
 declaring his entire disbelief in the Mosaic history. We 
 pkyed at whist every night that the Duke was there, and I 
 always won. The Duchess was unwell most of the time. 
 We showed her a galanterie which pleased her very much. 
 She produced a picture of herself one evening, which she said 
 she was going to send to the Duchess of Orleans ; we all cried 
 out, said it was bad, and asked her why she did not let Law- 
 rence paint her picture, and send a miniature copied from that. 
 She declared she could not afford it ; we then said, if she
 
 6 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1818. 
 
 would sit, we would pay for the picture, which she consented 
 to do, when all the men present signed a paper, desiring that 
 a picture should be painted and a print taken from it of her 
 Royal Highness. Lawrence is to be invited to Oatlands at 
 Christmas to paint the picture. The men who subscribe are 
 Culling Smith, Alvanley, B. Craven, Worcester, Armstrong. 
 A. Upton, Rogers, Luttrell, and myself, who were present. 
 The Duchess desired that Greenwood and Taylor might be 
 added. From Oatlands I went to Cirencester, where I stayed 
 a week and then returned to Oatlands, expecting to find the 
 Queen dead and the house empty, but I found the party still 
 there. 
 
 Ampthill i September gth. I rode down here to-day. 
 Alvanley and Montround came in a chaise and four, and were 
 only three hours and three quarters coming from town. Lut- 
 trell and Rogers are here. The dinner very bad, because the 
 cook is out of humor. The evening passed off heavily. 
 
 Ampthill, September nth. The Duke and Duchess of 
 San Carlos came yesterday with their two daughters, one of 
 whom is fourteen and the other twelve or thirteen years old. 
 The eldest is betrothed to the Count Altimira, a boy of seven- 
 teen years old, son of one of the richest Spanish grandees. 
 He has 7o,ooo/. a year. The Duke of Medina-Cceli before 
 the French invasion had 2i5,ooo/. a year. 
 
 Lord Holland was talking to Mr. Fox the day after the 
 debate on the war (after the Peace of Amiens) about public 
 speakers, and mentioned Sheridan's speech on the Begums. 
 Fox said, " You may rest assured that that speech was the 
 finest that ever was made in Parliament." Lord Holland said, 
 " It is very well of you to say so, but I think your speech last 
 night was a pretty good one." Fox said, " And that was a 
 devilish fine speech too." 
 
 Teddesley, November 30^. I went to Tixall z on Tuesday, 
 
 1 Ampthill Park, at that time the seat of Lord and Lady Holland, who had inher- 
 ited it from the Earl of Upper Ossory. On the death of Lady Holland, Ampthill 
 was purchased by the Duke of Bedford, and has since been inhabited by Lord and 
 Lady Wensleydale. 
 
 1 Tixall, the seat of Sir Clifford, constable in Staffordshire, was let at this time to 
 Lord and Lady Granville.
 
 i8i8.j HENRY LUTTRELL. / 
 
 the loth of November. There were Luttrell, Nugent, Mon- 
 tagu, Granville Somerset (who went away the next day), and 
 afterwards Granville Vernon, Wilmot, and Mr. Donald. ' I 
 never remember so agreeable a party " le ban gout, les ris, 
 'Sal in able liberte"" Everybody was pleased because each did 
 what he pleased, and the tone of the society was gay, simple, 
 and clever. 
 
 It is hardly possible to live with a more agreeable man than 
 Luttrell. He is difficult to please, but when pleased and in 
 good spirits, full of vivacity. He has a lively imagination, a 
 great deal of instruction, and a very retentive memory, a 
 memory particularly happy for social purposes, for he recol- 
 lects a thousand anecdotes, fine allusions, odd expressions, or 
 happy remarks, applicable to the generality of topics which 
 fall under discussion. He is extremely sensitive, easily dis- 
 concerted, and resents want of tact in others, because he is 
 so liable to suffer from any breach of it. A skeptic in religion, 
 and by no means austere in morals, he views with indulgence 
 all faults except those which are committed against society, 
 but he looks upon a bore with unconcealed aversion. He is 
 attached to a few persons whose talents he respects and 
 whose society he covets, but towards the world in general he 
 is rather misanthropical, and prides himself upon being free 
 from the prejudices which he ridicules and despises more or 
 less in everybody else. Detesting the importance and the 
 superiority which are assumed by those who have only riches 
 or rank to boast of, he delights in London, where such men 
 find their proper level, and where genius and ability always 
 maintain an ascendency over pomp, vanity, and the adventi- 
 tious circumstances of birth or position. Born in mystery, 1 
 he has always shrouded himself in a secrecy which none of 
 his acquaintance have ever endeavored to penetrate. He has 
 connections, but they are unknown or only guessed at. He 
 has occupations, amusements, and interests unconnected with 
 
 1 Mr. Luttrell was believed to be a natural eon of Lord Carhampton. He had sat 
 in the last Irish Parliament before the Union, and died about 1855 at a very advanced 
 age.
 
 8 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1818. 
 
 the society in which he publicly moves. Of these he never 
 speaks, and no one ever ventures to ask him any questions. 
 Ostensibly he has no friend. Standing thus alone in the 
 world, he derives but little of his happiness from others ; and 
 he seems to delight in the independence of his feelings as 
 well as of his situation. He is very witty and says excellent 
 things, brilliant in general society and pleasant in tete-a-tete. 
 Many men infinitely less clever con-verse more agreeably than 
 he does, because he is too epigrammatic, and has accustomed 
 himself so much to make brilliant observations that he cannot 
 easily descend to quiet, unlabored talk. This only applies to 
 him when in general society; when alone with another person 
 he talks as agreeably as possible. 
 
 Nugent is clever, and in many respects a more amiable com- 
 panion than Luttrell, though very inferior to him in ability. 
 He is well-informed, gentlemanlike, sensible, with good man- 
 ners, good taste, and has a talent for music ; he is always in 
 good humor, and discriminating without being difficult. 
 
 Lady Granville l has a great deal of genial humor, strong 
 feelings, enthusiasm, delicacy, refinement, good taste, naivete' 
 which just misses being affectation, and a bonhomie which 
 extends to all around her. 
 
 Nothing could exceed the agreeableness of the .life we led 
 at Tixall. We breakfasted about twelve or later, dined at 
 seven, played at whist and macao the whole evening, and went 
 to bed at different hours between two and four. " Nous 
 faisions la bonne chere, ce qui ajoute beaucoup a 1'agrement 
 de la socie'te'. Je ne dis pas ceci par rapport a mes propres 
 gouts ; mais parce que je 1'ai observe*, et que les philosophies 
 n'y sont pas plus indiffe'rents que les bons vivants." 
 
 Tixall was the most agreeable party I ever was at. We 
 were all pleased and satisfied ; we played at whist, and after- 
 wards at macao. Littleton was the greatest winner and Lord 
 
 1 Henrietta Elizabeth, daughter of William, fifth Duke of Devonshire, married in 
 1809 to Lord Granville. Leveson Gower, created Viscount Granville in 1815, and 
 Earl Granville in 1833, during his embassy at the court of France.
 
 i8i8.j MACAO. 9 
 
 Granville the loser. I wrote a description of the macao in 
 verse : 
 
 MACAO. 
 
 The solemn chime from out the ancient tower 1 
 
 Invites to Macao at th' accustomed hour. 
 
 The welcome summons heard, around the board 
 
 Each takes his seat and counts his iv'ry hoard. 
 
 : T is strange to see how i'1 the early rounds 
 
 The cautious punters risk their single pounds. 
 
 Till, fired with generous rage, they double stake 
 
 And offer more than prudent dealers take. 
 
 My lady 2 through her glass with keen delight 
 
 Observes the brisk beginnings of the fight ; 
 
 To some propitious, but to me unkind, 
 
 With candor owns the bias of her mind, 
 
 And asks of Fortune the severe decree 
 
 T' enrich the happy Skew, 3 to ruin me, 
 
 The fickle goddess heard one half the prayer, 
 
 The rest was melted into empty air ; 
 
 For while siie smiled complacent on the Skew,* 
 
 On me she shed some trifling favors too. 
 
 Sure Granville's luck exceeds all other men's 
 
 Led through a sad variety of tens ; 5 
 
 The rest have sometimes eights and nines, but he 
 
 Is always followed by " the jolly three ; " 
 
 But the great Skew some guardian sylph protects, 
 
 His judgment governs, and his hand directs 
 
 When to refrain, when boldly to put in, 
 
 And catch with happy nine the wayward pin. " 
 
 The next morning Luttrell came down with a whole paper 
 full of epigrams (I had been winning at macao, and had turned 
 up five nines in my deal) : 
 
 " Why should we wonder if in Greville's verses 
 Each thought so brilliant and each line so terse is? 
 For surely he in poetry must shine 
 Who is, we know, so favored by the nine. 8 
 
 THE JOLLY TENS. 
 
 " Quoth Greville ' The commandments are divine ; 
 But as the're ten, I lay them on the shelf: 
 
 1 A clock tower. 2 Lady Granville. s E. Montagu. 
 
 4 We gave him this nickname. 5 Tens ruinous at macao 8 Tens. 
 
 7 The middle pin, a large gain. * Nines are the grand desiderata at macao.
 
 IO THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1819. 
 
 O could they change their number and be nine, 
 I' d keep them all, and keep them to myself! ' " 
 
 Thus we trifled life away. 
 
 1819. 
 
 February^. I went with Bouverie to Newmarket on Mon- 
 day to look at the horses. On Wednesday I came to town 
 and went on to Oatlands. Madame de Lieven was there. 
 This woman is excessively clever, and when she chooses bril- 
 liantly agreeable. She is beyond all people fastidious. She 
 is equally conscious of her own superiority and the inferiority 
 of other people, and the contempt she has for the understand- 
 ings of the generality of her acquaintance has made her in- 
 dif.erent to please and incapable of taking any delight in 
 general society. Her manners are very dignified and grace- 
 ful, and she is extremely accomplished. She sometimes en- 
 deavors to assume popular and gracious manners, but she 
 does this languidly and awkwardly, because it is done with an 
 effort. She carries ennui to such a pitch that even in the 
 society of her most intimate friends she frequently owns that 
 she is bored to death. She writes memoirs, or rather a 
 journal, of all that falls under her observation. She is so 
 clever, has so much imagination and penetration, that they 
 must be very entertaining. She writes as well as talks with 
 extraordinary ease and gracefulness, and both her letters and 
 her conversation are full of point ; yet she is not liked, and 
 has made hardly any friends. Her manners are stately and 
 reserved, and so little bonhomie penetrates through her dignity 
 that few feel sufficiently attracted to induce them to try and 
 thaw the ice in which she always seems bound. 1 
 
 February $th. I have finished Madame de StaeTs " Con- 
 siderations sur la Revolution Franchise." It is the best of 
 her works, extremely eloquent, containing the soundest po- 
 litical opinions conveyed in a bold and eloquent style. It is 
 
 1 A very imperfect character of Princess Lieven, with whom Mr. Greville was at 
 this time but slightly acquainted. But in after years he became one of her most 
 intimate and confidential friends, and she frequently reappears in the course of these 
 memoirs.
 
 1819.] GAMING. 1 1 
 
 perhaps too philosophical and not sufficiently relieved by 
 anecdotes and historical illustrations. Her defense of her 
 father is written with much enthusiasm and great plausibility, 
 but the judgment of the world concerning Necker is formed, 
 and it is too late to alter it. The effect of her eloquence is 
 rather weakened by the recollection of her conduct to him, for 
 she lived with him as little as possible, because she could not 
 bear the ennui of Coppet. 1 
 
 June iith. I have been at Oatlands for the Ascot party. 
 On the course I did nothing. Ever since the Derby ill for- 
 tune has pursued me, and I cannot win anywhere. Play is a 
 detestable occupation it absorbs all our thoughts and renders 
 us unfit for everything else in life. It is hurtful to the mind and 
 destroys the better feelings ; it incapacitates us for study and 
 application of every sort ; it makes us thoughtful and nervous ; 
 and our cheerfulness depends upon the uncertain event of our 
 nightly occupation. How anyone can play who is not in want 
 of money I cannot comprehend ; surely his mind must be 
 strangely framed who requires the stimulus of gambling to 
 heighten his pleasures. Some indeed may have become at- 
 tached to gaming from habit, and may not wish to throw off 
 the habit from the difficulty of finding fresh employment for 
 the mind at an advanced period of life. Some may be un- 
 fitted by nature or taste for society, and for such gaming may 
 have a powerful attraction. The mind is excited ; at the 
 gaming-table all men are equal ; no superiority of birth, accom- 
 plishments, or ability avail here ; great noblemen, merchants, 
 orators, jockies, statesmen, and idlers are thrown together 
 in leveling confusion ; the only preeminence is that of suc- 
 cess, the only superiority that of temper. But why does a 
 man play who- is blessed with fortune, endowed with under- 
 standing, and adorned with accomplishments which might 
 insure his success in any pursuit which taste or fancy might 
 
 1 In the latter years of Madame de Stael's life Coppet became one of the most 
 brilliant social resorts in Europe, for she attracted there the Schlegels, B. Constant, 
 Bonstetten, Sismondi, Byron, and a host of other celebrities. Towards her father 
 Madame de Stael expressed the most passionate regard.
 
 12 THE GREYILLE MEMOIRS. [1819. 
 
 incite him to follow ? It is contrary to reason, but we see 
 such instances every day. The passion of play is not arti- 
 ficial ; it must have existed in certain minds from the begin- 
 ning ; at least some must have been so constituted that they 
 yield at once to the attraction, and enter with avidity into 
 a pursuit in which other men can never take the least in- 
 terest. 
 
 June 2$t/i. The Persian Ambassador has had a quarrel 
 with the court. He wanted to have precedence over all other 
 ambassadors, and because this was not allowed he was af- 
 fronted and would not go to court. This mark of disrespect 
 was resented, and it was signified to him that his presence 
 would be dispensed with at Carlton House, and that the minis- 
 ters could no longer receive him at their houses. On Sunday 
 last the Regent went to Lady Salisbury's, where he met the 
 Persian, who, finding he had given offense, had made a sort 
 of apology, and said that illness had prevented him from 
 going to court. The Regent came up to him and said, " Well, 
 my good friend, how are you ? I hope you are better ? " He 
 said, " Oh, sir, I am very well, but I am very sorry I offended 
 your Royal Highness by not going to court. Now, sir, my 
 sovereign he tell me to go first, and your congress, about 
 which I know nothing, say I must go last ; now this very bad 
 for me (pointing to his head) when I go back to Persia." The 
 Regent said, " Well, my good friend, never mind it now ; it 
 does not signify." He answered, "Oh, yes, sir ; but your 
 Royal Highness still angry with me, and you have not asked 
 me to your party to-morrow night." The Regent laughed and 
 said, " I was only going to have a few children to dance, but 
 if you like to come I shall be very happy to see you." Ac- 
 cordingly he went to Carlton House, and they are very good 
 friends again. 
 
 August y>th. I am just returned from Oatlands ; we had 
 an immense party, the most numerous ever known there. The 
 Duchess wished it to have been prolonged, but there were no 
 funds. The distress they are in is inconceivable. When the 
 Duchess came down there was no water in the house. She
 
 1820.1 ILLNESS OF GEORGE IV. 13 
 
 asked the reason, and was informed that the water came by 
 pipes from St. George's Hill, which were stopped up with 
 sand ; and as the workmen were never paid, they would not 
 clear them out. She ordered the pipes to be cleared and the 
 bills brought to her, which was done. On Thursday there was 
 a great distress, as the steward had no money to pay the 
 trades-people, and the Duke was prevailed on with great dif- 
 ficulty to produce a small sum for the purpose. The house is 
 nearly in ruins. 
 
 December -2.\th. The Duke of Kent gave the name of Al- 
 exandrina to his daughter 1 in compliment to the Emperor of 
 Russia. She was to have had the name of Georgiana, but 
 the Duke insisted upon Alexandrina being her first name. 
 The Regent sent for Lieven and made him a great many com- 
 pliments (en le persiflani) on the Emperor's being god-father, 
 but informed him that the name of Georgiana could be second 
 to no other in this country, and therefore she could not bear it 
 at all. 
 
 1820. 
 
 February \th. I returned to Woburn on Sunday. We 
 shot the whole week and killed an immense quantity of game ; 
 the last two days we killed 245 and 296 pheasants, 322 and 
 431 head. On Sunday last arrived the news of the King's 
 death. 2 The new King has been desperately ill. He had a 
 bad cold at Brighton, for which he lost eighty ounces of 
 blood ; yet he afterwards had a severe oppression, amounting 
 almost to suffocation, on his chest. Halford was gone to 
 Windsor, and left orders with Knighton not to bleed him again 
 till his return. Knighton was afraid to bleed him. Bloom- 
 field sent for Tierney, who took upon himself to take fifty 
 ounces from him. This gave him relief ; he continued, how- 
 ever, dangerously ill, and on Wednesday he lost twenty ounces 
 more. Yesterday afternoon he was materially better for the 
 first time. Tierney certainly saved his life, for he must have 
 died if he had not been blooded. Brougham sent a courier to 
 
 1 The Princess, afterwards Queen, Victoria, born 24th May, 1819. 
 8 King George III. died on the 2gth of January, 1820.
 
 14 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1820 
 
 the Queen immediately after the late King's death, and gave 
 notice at Carlton House that he had applied for a passport for 
 a courier to her Majesty the Queen. 
 
 February \\tli. I think Fleury's book x almost the most 
 interesting memoir I ever read ; it is excessively well written, 
 and his partiality to Bonaparte has not blinded him to the 
 errors he committed. This book was wanted to bring under 
 the same view the immediate causes of his return to France 
 and the situation in which he found himself when seated on 
 the throne. This was essentially different from that in which 
 he had been before his abdication ; so much so that I do not 
 believe, if he had concluded a peace with the allies, he could 
 have remained upon the throne. Not only his civil power 
 was reduced within very narrow limits, but his military au- 
 thority was no longer the same ; men seemed to have lost that 
 reverential submissiveness which caused all his orders to be 
 so blindly and implicitly obeyed. During the height of his 
 power none of his generals would have dared to neglect or 
 oppose his orders as Ney did at the battles of the i6th of 
 June. It is impossible now to determine what might have 
 been the political result in France of the success of Bona- 
 parte's arms had he gained the battle of Waterloo. He would 
 probably have made peace with the allies. Had he returned 
 to Paris triumphant, he might have dissolved the Chambers 
 and reestablished the old Imperial Government. In such a 
 measure he must have depended upon his army for success. 
 But a spirit of liberty had sprung up in France during his 
 absence, which seemed to be the more vigorous from having 
 been so long repressed. The nation, and even the army, 
 appear to have imbibed the principles of freedom ; and if upon 
 this occasion Bonaparte was placed on the throne by the 
 force of opinion, he could not have restored the ancient des- 
 potism without exciting universal dissatisfaction. Men seem 
 
 1 M. Fleury de Chabaulon was a young auditevr at the Conseil d'Etat who had 
 joined Napoleon at Elba, and afterwards returned with him to France, when he was 
 attached to the Imperial Cabinet during the Hundred Days. His memoir of that 
 period is here referred to.
 
 i820,| THE CATO STREET CONSPIRACY. 15 
 
 formerly to have been awed by a conviction of his infallibility, 
 and did not suffer themselves to reason upon the principles 
 of action of a man who dazzled their imaginations by the mag- 
 nificence of his exploits and the grandeur of his system. 
 
 February 2oth. The ministers had resigned last week 
 because the King would not hear reason on the subject of the 
 Princess. It is said that he treated Lord Liverpool very 
 coarsely, and ordered him out of the room. The King, they 
 say, asked him " if he knew to whom he was speaking." He 
 replied, " Sir, I know that I am speaking to my sovereign, 
 and I believe I am addressing him as it becomes a loyal sub- 
 ject to do." To the Chancellor he said, " My lord, I know 
 your conscience always interferes except where your interest 
 is concerned." The King afterwards sent for Lord Liverpool, 
 who refused at first to go ; but afterwards, on the message 
 being reiterated, he went, and the King said, " We have both 
 been too hasty." This is probably all false, but it is very 
 true that they offered to resign. 
 
 February 24^/1. The plot 1 which has been detected had 
 for its object the destruction of the Cabinet Ministers, and 
 the chief actor in the conspiracy was Arthur Thistlewood. 
 I was at Lady Harrowby's last night, and about half past one 
 o'clock Lord Harrowby came in and told us the following par- 
 ticulars : A plot has been in agitation for some time past, of 
 the existence of which, the names and numbers of the men 
 concerned, and of all particulars concerning their plans, 
 government has been perfectly well informed. The conspira- 
 tors had intended to execute their design about last Christmas 
 at a cabinet dinner at Lord Westmoreland's, but for some 
 reason they were unable to do so and deferred it. At length 
 government received information that they were to assemble 
 to the number of from twenty to thirty at a house in Cato 
 Street, Edgware Road, and that they had resolved to execute 
 their purpose last night, when the Cabinet would be at dinner 
 at Lord Harrowby's. Dinner was ordered as usual. Men 
 had been observed .watching the house, both in front and rear, 
 
 1 The Cato Street Conspiracy.
 
 1 6 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1820. 
 
 during the whole afternoon. It was believed that nine o'clock 
 was the hour fixed upon for the assault to be made. The 
 ministers who were expected at dinner remained at Fife 
 House, and at eight o'clock Mr. Birnie with twelve constables 
 was dispatched to Cato Street to apprehend the conspirators. 
 Thirty-five foot guards were ordered to support the police 
 force. The constables arrived upon the spot a few moments 
 before the soldiers, and suspecting that the conspirators had 
 received intimation of the discovery of their plot, and were in 
 consequence preparing to escape, they did not wait for the 
 soldiers, but went immediately to the house. A man armed 
 with a musket was standing sentry, whom they secured. They 
 then ascended a narrow staircase which led to the room in 
 which the gang were assembled, and burst the door open. 
 The first man who entered was shot in the head, but was only- 
 wounded ; he who followed was stabbed by Thistle wood and 
 killed. The conspirators then with their swords put out the 
 lights and attempted to escape. By this time the soldiers 
 had arrived. Nine men were taken prisoners ; Thistlewood 
 and the rest escaped. 
 
 March \st. Thistlewood was taken the morning after the 
 affair in Cato Street. It was the intention of these men to 
 have fired a rocket from Lord Harrowby's house as soon as 
 they had completed their work of destruction ; this was to 
 have been the signal for the rising of their friends. An oil 
 shop was to have been set on fire to increase the confusion 
 and collect a mob ; then the Bank was to have been attacked 
 and the gates of Newgate thrown open. The heads of the 
 ministers were to have been cut off and put in a sack which 
 was prepared for that purpose. These are great projects, but 
 it does not appear they were ever in force sufficient to put 
 them in execution, and the mob (even if the mob had espoused 
 their cause, which seems doubtful), though very dangerous in 
 creating confusion and making havoc, are quite inefficient for 
 a regular operation. 
 
 June 4//J. I went to Oatlands on Tuesday. The Duchess 
 continues very ill : she is not expected to recover. The King
 
 1 820.] ARRIVAL OF T,HE QUEEN. \J 
 
 was at Ascot every day ; he generally rode on the course, and 
 the ladies came in carriages. One day they all rode. He 
 was always cheered by the mob as he went away. One day 
 only a man in the crowd called out, " Where 's the Queen ? " 
 The Duke of Dorset was at the Cottage, and says it was ex- 
 ceedingly agreeable. They kept very early hours. The King 
 always breakfasted with them, and Lady Conyngham looked 
 remarkably well in the morning, her complexion being so fine. 
 On Friday she said she was bored with the races and should 
 not go ; he accordingly would not go either, and sent word to 
 say he should not be there. They stay there till to-morrow. 
 In the mean time the Queen is coming to England, and 
 Brougham is gone to meet her. Nobody knows what advice 
 he intends to give her, but everybody believes that it is his in- 
 tention she should come. It was supposed that Lady Conyng- 
 ham's family (her son and brother) had set their faces against 
 her connection with the King ; but Lord Mount Charles was 
 at the Cottage, and Denison was at the levee and very well 
 received. 
 
 Jutie "jth. The Queen arrived in London yesterday at 
 seven o'clock. I rode as far as Greenwich to meet her. The 
 road was thronged with an immense multitude the whole way 
 from Westminster Bridge to Greenwich. Carriages, carts, and 
 horsemen followed, preceded, and surrounded her coach the 
 whole way. She was everywhere received with the greatest 
 enthusiasm. Women waved pocket handkerchiefs, and men 
 shouted whenever she passed. She travelled in an open lan- 
 dau, Alderman Wood sitting by her side and Lady Ann Ham- 
 ilton and another woman opposite. Everybody was disgusted 
 at the vulgarity of Wood in sitting in the place of honor, 
 while the Duke of Hamilton's sister was sitting backwards 
 m the carriage. The Queen looked exactly as she did before 
 she left England, and seemed neither dispirited nor dismayed. 
 As she passed by White's she bowed and smiled to the men 
 who were in the window. The crowd was not great in the 
 streets through which she passed. Probably people had 
 ceased to expect her, as it was so much later than the hour 
 2
 
 1 8 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1820. 
 
 designated for her arrival. It is impossible to conceive the 
 sensation created by this event. Nobody either blames or 
 approves of her sudden return, but all ask, " What will be 
 done next ? How is it to end ? " In the House of Commons 
 there was little said ; but the few words which fell from 
 Creevy, Bennett, or Denman seem to threaten most stormy 
 debates whenever the subject is discussed. The King in the 
 mean time is in excellent spirits, and the ministers affect the 
 greatest unconcern and talk of the time it will take to pass 
 the bills to " settle her business." " Her business," as they 
 call it, will in all probability raise such a tempest as they will 
 find it beyond their powers to appease ; and for all his Maj- 
 esty's unconcern, the day of her arrival in England may be 
 such an anniversary to him as he will have no cause to cele- 
 brate with much rejoicing. 1 
 
 June qth. Brougham's speech on Wednesday ts said by 
 his friends to have been one of the best that was ever made, 
 and I think all agree that it was good and effective. The 
 House of Commons is evidently anxious to get rid of the ques- 
 tion if possible, for the moment Wilberforce expressed a wish 
 to adjourn, the county members rose one after another and so 
 strongly concurred in that wish that Castlereagh was obliged 
 to consent. The mob have been breaking windows in all 
 parts of the town and pelting those who would not take off 
 their hats as they passed Wood's door. Last night Lord Ex- 
 mouth's house was assaulted and his windows broken, when 
 he rushed out armed with sword and pistol and drove away 
 the mob. -Frederick Ponsonby saw him. Great sums of 
 money have been won and lost on the Queen's return, for 
 there was much betting at the clubs. The alderman showed 
 a specimen of his taste as he came into London ; when the 
 
 1 On the day that the Queen landed at Dover a royal message was sent down to 
 Parliament, by which the King commended to the lords an inquiry into the conduct 
 of the Queen. In the House of Commons there was some vehement speaking ; and 
 on the following day, before Lord Castlereagh moved the address in answer to the 
 message, Mr. Brougham read to the House a message from the Queen, declaring 
 that her return to England was occasioned by the necessity her enemies had laid 
 upon her of defending her character.
 
 1820.] " GOD SAVE QUEEN CAROLINE." 19 
 
 Queen's coach passed Carlton House he stood up and gave 
 three cheers. 
 
 It is odd enough Lady Hertford's windows have been broken 
 to pieces and the frames driven in, while no assault, has been 
 made on Lady Conyngham's. Somebody asked Lady Hertford 
 " if she had been aware of the King's admiration for Lady 
 Conyngham," and " whether he had ever talked to her about 
 Lady C." She replied that "intimately as she had known the 
 King, and openly as he had always talked to her upon every 
 subject, he had never ventured to speak to her upon that of 
 his mistresses." 
 
 June \6th. There was some indiscipline manifested in a 
 battalion of the Third Guards the day before yesterday ; they 
 were dissatisfied at the severity of their duty and at some al- 
 lowances that had been taken from them, and on coming off 
 guard they refused to give up their ball cartridges. They were 
 ordered off to Plymouth, and marched at four yesterday morn- 
 ing. Many people went from the ball at Devonshire House 
 to see them march away. Plymouth was afterwards changed 
 for Portsmouth in consequence of their good behavior on the 
 route. Worcester 1 met many of them drunk at Brentford, 
 crying out, " God save Queen Caroline ! " There was some 
 disturbance last night in consequence of the mob assembling 
 round the King's mews, where the rest of the battalion that 
 had marched to Portsmouth still remained. 
 
 June 27 th. The mob was very abusive to the member \vhc 
 carried up the resolution to the Queen, and called Wilber- 
 force " Dr. Cantwell." The Queen demanded to be heard by 
 counsel at the bar of the House of Lords. Contrary to order 
 and contrary to expectation, the counsel were admitted, when 
 Brougham made a very powerful speech. Denman began ex- 
 ceedingly well ; Lord Holland said his first three or four sen- 
 tences were the best thing he ever heard ; si sic omnia, he 
 would have made the finest speech possible ; but on the whole 
 he was inferior to Brougham. If the House had refused to 
 hear her counsel, it is said that she would have gone down to- 
 
 1 The Marquis of Worcester, afterwards seventh Duke of Beaufort.
 
 2O THE GREVILLL MEMOIRS. [1820. 
 
 day to the House of Lords and have demanded to be heard in 
 person. As usual Brougham's speech is said by many of his 
 political adversaries to have been weak in argument. Many, 
 however, do him the justice to acknowledge that it was a very 
 powerful appeal for his client. 
 
 July I4//Z. The Duchess of York died on Sunday morning 
 of water on her chest. She was insensible the last two days. 
 She is deeply regretted by her husband, her friends, and her 
 servants. Probably no person in such a situation was ever 
 more really liked. She has left I2,ooo/. to her servants and 
 some children whom she had caused to be educated. She 
 had arranged all her affairs with the greatest exactitude, and 
 left nothing undone. 
 
 The Queen's letter was brought to the King whilst he was 
 at dinner (at the Cottage). He said, " Tell the Queen's mes- 
 senger that the King can receive no communication from her 
 except through the hands of his ministers." Esterhazy was 
 present, and said he did this with extraordinary dignity. 
 
 London, October 8///. I came to town with Payne on Fri- 
 day, having won a little at Newmarket. He told me a good 
 story by the way. A certain bishop in the House of Lords 
 rose to speak, and announced that he should divide what he 
 had to say into twelve parts, when the Duke of Wharton in- 
 terrupted him, and begged he might be indulged for a few 
 minutes, as he had a story to tell which he could only intro- 
 duce at that moment. A drunken fellow w r as passing by St. 
 Paul's at night, and heard the clock slowly chiming twelve. 
 He counted the strokes, and when it had finished looked 
 towards the clock and said, " Damn you ! why could n't you 
 give us all that at once ? " There was an end of the bishop's 
 story. 
 
 The town is still in an uproar about the trial, and nobody 
 has any doubt that it will finish by the bill being thrown out 
 and the ministers turned out. Brougham's speech was the 
 most magnificent display of argument and oratory that has 
 been heard for years, and they say that the impression it 
 made upon the House was immense ; even his most violent
 
 1 820.] THE QUEEN'S TRIAL. 21 
 
 opponents (including Lord Lonsdale) were struck with admi- 
 ration and astonishment. 
 
 October \$th. Since I came to town I have been to ;: e 
 trial every day. I have occupied a place close to Brougham, 
 which, besides the advantage it affords of enabling me to hear 
 extremely well everything that passes, gives me the pleasure 
 of talking to him and the other counsel, and puts me behind 
 the scenes so far that I cannot help hearing all their conver- 
 sation, their remarks, and learning what witnesses they are 
 going to examine, and many other things which are interest- 
 ing and amusing. Since I have been in the world I never 
 remember any question which so exclusively occupied every- 
 body's attention, and so completely absorbed men's thoughts 
 and engrossed conversation. In the same degree is the vio- 
 lence displayed. It is taken up as a party question entirely, 
 and the consequence is that everybody is gone mad about it. 
 Very few people admit of any medium between pronouncing 
 the Queen quite innocent and judging her guilty and passing 
 the bill. Until the evidence of Lieutenant Hownam it was 
 generally thought that proofs of her guilt were wanting, but 
 since his admission that Bergami slept under the tent with 
 her all unprejudiced men seem to think the adultery suffi- 
 ciently proved. The strenuous opposers of the bill, however, 
 by no means allow this, and make a mighty difference between 
 sleeping dressed under a tent and being shut up at night in a 
 room together, which the supporters of the bill contend would 
 have been quite or nearly the same thing. The Duke of Port- 
 land, who is perfectly impartial, and who has always been vio- 
 lently against the bill, was so satisfied by Hownam's evidence 
 that he told me that after that admission by him he thought 
 all further proceedings useless, and that it was ridiculous to 
 listen to any more evidence, as the fact was proved ; that he 
 should attend no longer to any evidence upon the subject. 
 This view of the case will not, however, induce him to vote 
 for the bill, because he thinks that upon grounds of expe- 
 diency it ought not to pass. The ministers were elated in an 
 extraordinary manner by this evidence of Hownam's. The
 
 22 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1820. 
 
 Duke of Wellington told Madame de Lieven that he %\.is very 
 tired ; " mats les grands succl's fatiguent autant que les grands 
 revers." They look upon the progress of this trial in the light 
 of a campaign, and upon each day's proceedings as a sort of 
 battle, and by the impression made by the evidence they con- 
 sider that they have gained a victory or sustained a defeat. 
 Their anxiety that this bill should pass is quite inconceivable, 
 for it cannot be their interest that it should be carried ; and as 
 for the King, they have no feeling whatever for him. The 
 Duke of Portland told me that he conversed with the Duke of 
 Wellington upon the subject, and urged as one of the reasons 
 why this bill should not pass the House of Lords the disgrace 
 that it would entail upon the King by the recrimination that 
 would ensue in the House of Commons. His answer was 
 " that the King was degraded as low as he could be already." 
 The vehemence with which they pursue this object 'produces a 
 corresponding violence in their language and sentiments. 
 Lady Harrowby, who is usually very indifferent upon political 
 subjects, has taken this up with unusual eagerness. In an ar- 
 gument which I had with her the day before yesterday, she 
 said that if the House of Lords was to suffer itself to be influ- 
 enced by the opinions and wishes of the people, it would be 
 the most mean and pusillanimous conduct, and that after all 
 what did it signify what the people thought or what they ex- 
 pressed if the army was to be depended upon ? I answered 
 that I never had expected that the day would come when I 
 should be told that we were to disregard the feelings and 
 wishes of the people of this country, and to look to our army 
 for support. In proportion as the ministers were elated by 
 what came out in Hownam's cross-examination so were they 
 depressed by the unlucky affair of Rastelli, 1 which has given 
 such an important advantage to their adversaries. Mr. Pow- 
 
 1 Rastelli was a witness for the bill not a very important one. After his exam- 
 ination was over he was allowed to leave the country. Brougham found this out, and 
 instantly demanded that he should be recalled for further cross-examination, well 
 knowing this could not at the moment be done. This answered his purpose, and he 
 then turned with incredible vehemence on the other side, and accused them of spirit- 
 ing awav the witness.
 
 1 820.] DEBATES IN THE HOUSE. 2$ 
 
 ell's explanation was extremely unsatisfactory, and in his ex- 
 amination yesterday they elicited from him what is tantamount 
 to a contradiction of what he had said the day before. It is 
 not possible to doubt what is the real state of the case. Ras- 
 telli is an active, useful agent, and they had occasion for his 
 services ; consequently they sent him off, and trusted that he 
 would be back here before he could possibly be called for, if 
 ever he should be called for again. It was a rash speculation, 
 which failed. The last two days have been more amusing 
 and interesting than the preceding ones. The debates in the 
 House, a good deal of violence, and some personalities have 
 given spirit to -the proceedings, which were getting very dull. 
 Lord Holland made a violent speech, and Lord Carnarvon a 
 clever one, which was violent enough too, on Rastelli's affair. 
 Lord Holland made one or two little speeches which were 
 very comical. Lord Lauderdale made a violent speech the 
 other day, and paid himself in it a great many compliments. 
 It must be acknowledged that the zeal of many of the peers is 
 very embarrassing, displayed as it is, not in the elucidation of 
 the truth, but in furtherance of that cause of which they desire 
 the success. There is no one more violent than Lord Lauder- 
 dale, 1 and neither the Attorney-general nor the Solicitor-gen- 
 eral can act with greater zeal than he does in support of the 
 bill. Lord Liverpool is a model of fairness, impartiality, and 
 candor. The Chancellor is equally impartial, and as he de- 
 cides personally all disputes on legal points which are referred 
 to the House, his fairness has been conspicuous in having 
 generally decided in favor of the Queen's counsel. Yesterday 
 morning some discussion arose about a question which 
 
 1 In the course of the trial, in order to show lliat the Queen hnd associated in Italy 
 
 with ladies of good character, it was stated that a Countess T frequented her 
 
 society at Florence. On cross-examination it came out that the Countess spoke a 
 provincial dialect, anything but the purest Tuscan, whence it was implied that she 
 was a vulgar person, and Lord Lauderdale especially pointed out this inference, 
 
 speaking himself in very broad Scotch. Upon which Lord , a member of the 
 
 opposition, said to the witness, " Have the goodness to state whether Countess 
 T - spoke Italian with as broad an accent as the noble earl who has just sat down 
 speaks with in his native tongue." The late Sir Henry Holland was present when 
 this occurred, and used to relate the anecdote.
 
 24 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1820. 
 
 Brougham put to Powell. He asked him who was his princi- 
 pal, as he was an agent. The question was objected to, and 
 he began to defend it in an uncommonly clever speech, but 
 was stopped before he had spoken long. He introduced a 
 very ingenious quotation which was suggested to him by 
 Spencer Perceval, who was standing near him. Talking of 
 the airy, unsubstantial being who was the principal, and one 
 of the parties in this cause, he said he wished to meet 
 
 " This shape 
 
 If shape it could be called that shape had none, 
 Distinguishable in member, joint, or limb ; 
 Or substance might be called that shadow seemed, 
 
 For each seemed either 
 
 What seemed its head 
 The likeness of a kingly crown had on." 
 
 Paradise Last, ii. 666. 
 
 Whersted, December loih. I left Woburn on Thursday 
 night last, and got here on Friday morning. The Lievens, 
 Worcesters, Duke of Wellington, Neumann, and Montagu 
 were here. The Duke went away yesterday. We acted cha- 
 rades, which were very well done. Yesterday we went to shoot 
 at Sir Philip Brookes's. As we went in the carriage, the Duke 
 talked a great deal about the battle of Waterloo and different 
 things relating to that campaign. He said that he had 50,000 
 men at Waterloo. He began the campaign with 85,000 men, 
 lost 5,000 on the i6th, and had a corps of 20,000 at Hal under 
 Prince Frederick. He said that it was remarkable that no- 
 body who had ever spoken of these operations had ever made 
 mention of that corps, 1 and Bonaparte was certainly ignorant 
 of it. In this corps were the best of the Dutch troops ; it had 
 been placed there because the Duke expected the attack to be 
 made on that side. He said that the French army was the 
 best army that was ever seen, and that in the previous opera- 
 tions Bonaparte's march upon Belgium was the finest thing 
 
 1 The Duke of Wellington has frequently been criticised for leaving so important 
 a body of troops at Hal, so far upon his right that they were of no use in the battle. 
 He always defended this disposition, and maintained that the greater probability was 
 that Napoleon would attack his extreme right and advance by Hal. On this occasion 
 (in 1820) he himself drew attention to it, as is explained in the text-
 
 i8ao.] THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO. 2$ 
 
 that ever was done so rapid and so well combined. His 
 object was to beat the armies in detail, and this object suc- 
 ceeded in so far as that he attacked them separately ; but 
 from the extraordinary celerity with which the allied armies 
 were got together he was not able to realize the advantages 
 he had promised himself. The Duke says that they certainly 
 were not prepared for this attack, 1 as the French had pre- 
 viously broken up the roads by which their army advanced ; 
 but as it was in summer this did not render them impassable. 
 He says that Bonaparte beat the Prussians in a most extraor- 
 dinary way, as the battle- was gained in less than four 
 hours ; but that it would probably have been more complete 
 if he had brought a greater number of troops into action, and 
 not detached so large a body against the British corps. 
 There were 40,000 men opposed to the Duke on the i6th, but 
 he says that the attack was not so powerful as it ought to 
 have been with such a force. The French had made a long 
 march the day before the battle, and had driven in the Prus- 
 sian posts in the evening. I asked him if he thought Bona- 
 parte had committed any fault. He said he thought he had 
 committed a fault in attacking him in the position of Water- 
 loo ; that his object ought to have been to remove him as far 
 as possible from the Prussian army, and that he ought conse- 
 quently to have moved upon Hal, and to have attempted to 
 penetrate by the same road by which the Duke had himself 
 advanced. He had always calculated upon Bonaparte's doing 
 this, and for this purpose he had posted 20,000 men under 
 Prince Frederick at Hal. He said that the position at Water- 
 loo was uncommonly strong, but that the strength of it con- 
 sisted alone in the two farms of Hougoumont and La Haye 
 Sainte, both of which were admirably situated and adapted for 
 defense. In Hougoumont there were never more than from 
 300 to 500 men, who were reinforced as it was necessary ; and 
 although the French repeatedly attacked this point, and 
 
 1 This passage is obscure, as the pronoun they can hardly refer to the allied ar- 
 mies: but it stands so in the MS. 
 ' The battle of Ligny, i6th of June, 1815.
 
 26 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1820. 
 
 ^ 
 sometimes with not less than 20,000 men, they never could 
 
 even approach it. Had they obtained possession of it, they 
 could not have maintained it, as it was open on one side to 
 the whole fire of the English lines, whilst it was sheltered 
 on the side towards the French. The Duke said the farm of 
 La Haye Sainte was still better than that of Hougoumont, 
 and that it never would have been taken if the officer who 
 was commanding there had not neglected to make an aper- 
 ture through which ammunition could be conveyed to his gar- 
 rison. 
 
 When we arrived at Sir Philip Brookes's it rained, and we 
 were obliged to sit in the house, when the Duke talked a great 
 deal about Paris and different things. He told us that Bliicher 
 was determined to destroy the bridge of Jena. The Duke 
 spoke to Miiffling, the governor of Paris, and desired him to 
 persuade Bliicher to abandon this design. However, Bliicher 
 was quite determined. He said the French had destroyed the 
 pillar at Rosbach and other things, and that they merited this 
 retaliation. He also said that the English had burnt Wash- 
 ington, and he did not see why he was not to destroy this 
 bridge. Muffling, however, concerted with the Duke that 
 English sentinels should be placed on the bridge, and if any 
 Prussian soldiers should approach to injure it, these sentinels 
 were not to retire. This they conceived would gain time, as 
 they thought that previous to making any attempt on the 
 bridge Bliicher would apply to the Duke to withdraw the 
 English sentinels. This was of no avail. The Prussians 
 arrived, mined the arches, and attempted to blow up the 
 bridge, sentinels and all. Their design, however, was frus- 
 trated, and the bridge received no injury. At length Miiffling 
 came to the Duke, and said that he was come to propose to 
 him a compromise, which was that the bridge should be spared 
 and the column in the Place Vendome should be destroyed 
 instead. " I saw," said the Duke, " that I had got out of the 
 frying-pan into the fire. Fortunately at this moment the King 
 of Prussia arrived, and he ordered that no injury should be 
 done to either." On another occasion Bliicher announced his
 
 1821.] "WHERE'S YOUR WIFE, GEORGY?" 2J 
 
 intention of levying a contribution of 100 millions on the city 
 of Paris. To this the Duke objected, and said that the rais- 
 ing such enormous contributions could only be done by com- 
 mon consent, and must be a matter of general arrangement. 
 Bliicher said, " Oh ! I do not mean to be the only party who is 
 to levy anything ; you may levy as much for yourselves, and, 
 depend upon it, if you do it will all be paid ; there will be no 
 difficulty whatever." The Duke says that the two invasions 
 cost the French 100 millions sterling. The allies had 
 1,200,000 men clothed at their expense ; the allowance for 
 this was 60 francs a man. The army of occupation was 
 entirely maintained ; there were the contributions, the claims 
 amounting to ten millions sterling. Besides this there were 
 towns and villages destroyed and country laid waste. 
 
 1821. 
 
 London, February *]th. The King went to the play last 
 night (Drury Lane) for the first time, the Dukes of York and 
 Clarence and a great suite with him. He was received with 
 immense acclamations, the whole pit standing up, hurrahing 
 and waving their hats. The boxes were very empty at first, 
 for the mob occupied the avenues to the theatre, and those 
 who had engaged boxes could not get to them. The crowd on 
 the outside was very great. Lord Hertford dropped one of 
 the candles as he was lighting the King in, and made a great 
 confusion in the box. The King sat in Lady Bessborough's 
 box, which was fitted up for him. He goes to Covent Garden 
 to-night. A few people called "the Queen," but very few. 
 A man in the gallery called out, " Where 's your wife. 
 Georgy ? " 
 
 February 23^. Yesterday the Duke of York proposed to 
 me to take the management of his horses, which I accepted. 
 Nothing could, be more kind than the manner in which he 
 proposed it. 1 
 
 March 22d. I was sworn in the day before yesterday, and 
 
 1 Mr. Greville continued to manage the racing establishment of the Duke of York 
 from this time till the death of his Royal Highness.
 
 28 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1821. 
 
 kissed hands at a council at Carlton House yesterday morn- 
 ing as clerk of the council. 
 
 May 7.d. Lady Conyngham lives in one of the houses in 
 Marlborough Row. All the members of her family are con- 
 tinually there, and are supplied with horses, carriages, etc., 
 from the King's stables. She rides out with her daughter, but 
 never with the King, who always rides with one of his gentle- 
 men. They never appear in public together. She dines there 
 every day. Before the King comes into the room she and 
 Lady Elizabeth join him in another room, and he always walks 
 in with one on each arm. She comports herself entirely as 
 mistress of the house, but never suffers her daughter to leave 
 her. She has received magnificent presents, and Lady Eliza- 
 beth the same ; particularly the mother has strings of pearls 
 of enormous value. Madame de Lieven said she had seen 
 the pearls of the Grand Duchesses and the Prussian Prin- 
 cesses, but had never seen any nearly so fine as Lady Conyng- 
 ham's. The other night Lady Bath was coming to the 
 Pavilion. After dinner Lady Conyngham called to Sir Will- 
 iam Keppel and said, " Sir William, do desire them to light 
 up the saloon " (this saloon is lit by hundreds of candles). 
 When the King came in she said to him, " Sir, I told them to 
 light up the saloon, as Lady Bath is coming this evening." 
 The King seized her arm and said with the greatest tender- 
 ness, " Thank you, thank you, my dear ; you always do what 
 is right ; you cannot please me so much as by doing every- 
 thing you please, everything to show that you are mistress 
 here." 
 
 June 24//z. The King dined at Devonshire House last 
 Thursday se'nnight. Lady Conyngham had on her head a 
 sapphire which belonged to the Stuarts, and was given by 
 Cardinal York to the King. He gave it to the Princess Char- 
 lotte, and when she died he desired to have it back, Leopold 
 being informed it was a crown jewel. This crown jewel 
 sparkled in the head-dress of the Marchioness at the ball. I 
 ascertained the Duke of York's sentiments upon this subject 
 the other day. He was not particularly anxious to discuss it,
 
 1 82 1.] GREVILLE DINES AT THE PAVILION. 29 
 
 but he said enough to show that he has no good opinion of 
 her. The other day, as we .were going to the races from Oat- 
 lands, he gave me the history of the Duke of Wellington's 
 life. His prejudice against him is excessively strong, and I 
 think if ever he becomes king the other will not be com- 
 mander-in-chief. He does not deny his military talents, but 
 he thinks that he is false and ungrateful, that he never gave 
 sufficient credit to his officers, and that he was unwilling to 
 put forward men of talent who might be in a situation to claim 
 some share of credit, the whole of which he was desirous of 
 engrossing himself. He says that at Waterloo he got into a 
 scrape and avowed himself to be surprised, and he attributes 
 in great measure the success of that day to Lord Anglesea, 
 who, he says, was hardly mentioned, and that in the coldest 
 terms, in the Duke's dispatch. 1 
 
 December i$th. I have not written anything for months. 
 " Quante cose mi sono accadute ! " My progress was as fol- 
 lows, not very interesting : To Newmarket, Whersted, Rid- 
 dlesworth, Sprotborough, Euston, Elveden, Welbeck, Caver- 
 sham, Nun Appleton, Welbeck, Burghley, and London. 
 Nothing worth mentioning occurred at any of these places. 
 Sprotborough was agreeable enough. The Grevilles, Mon- 
 tagu, Wilmot and the Wortleys were there. I came to town, 
 went to Brighton yesterday se'nnight for a council. I was 
 lodged in the Pavilion and dined with the King. The gaudy 
 splendor of the place amused me for a little and then bored 
 me. The dinner was cold and the evening dull beyond all 
 dullness. They say the King is anxious that form and cere- 
 mony should be banished, and if so it not only proves how 
 impossible it is that form and ceremony should not always 
 inhabit a palace. The rooms are not furnished for society, 
 and, in fact, society cannot flourish without ease ; and who 
 
 1 The unjust and unfavorable opinion expressed of the Duke of Wellington by the 
 Duke of York dated from the appointment of Sir Arthur Wellesley to a high com- 
 mand, and afterwards to the chief command of the army in Portugal. The Duke of 
 York had at one moment entertained hopes of commanding that army, but when he 
 was made to understand that this was impossible he erroneously attributed this dis- 
 appointment to the intrigues of those who were preferred before him.
 
 30 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1821. 
 
 can feel at ease who is under the eternal constraint which 
 etiquette and respect impose ? The King was in good looks 
 and good spirits, and after dinner cut his jokes with all the 
 coarse merriment which is his characteristic. Lord Welles- 
 ley did not seem to like it, but of course he bowed and 
 smiled like the rest. I saw nothing very particular in the 
 King's manner to Lady Conyngham. He sat by her on the 
 couch almost the whole evening, playing at patience, and he 
 took her in to dinner ; but Madame de Lieven and Lady 
 Cowper were there, and he seemed equally civil to all of 
 them. I was curious to see the Pavilion and the life they 
 lead there, and I now only hope I may never go there again, 
 for the novelty is past and I should be exposed to the whole 
 weight of the bore of it without the stimulus of curiosity. 
 
 December igt/t. I dined with Lord Gwydir yesterday, and 
 sat next to Prince Lieven. He told me that Bloomfield is no 
 longer in favor, that he has been supplanted by Lord Francis 
 Conyngham, 1 who now performs almost all the functions which 
 formerly appertained to Bloomfield. He is quite aware of his 
 decline, and submits himself to it in a manly way. He is no 
 longer so necessary to the King as he was, for a short time 
 ago he could not bear that Bloomfield should be absent, and 
 now his absence is unfelt. Francis goes to the King every 
 morning, usually breakfasts with him, and receives all his 
 orders. He was invited to go to Panshanger for two days, 
 and was very anxious to go, but he could not obtain leave 
 from the King to absent himself. Bloomfield does not put 
 himself forward ; " meme il se retire" he said, and it is under- 
 stood that he has made up his mind to resign his situation and 
 leave the court. The King is still perfectly civil and good- 
 humored to him, but has withdrawn his confidence from him, 
 and Bloomfield is no longer his first servant. 
 
 I asked Lieven whether Francis Conyngham, in performing 
 the other duties which had been hitherto allotted to Bloom- 
 
 1 Lord Francis Conyngham, second son of the first Marquis of Conyngham (who 
 was raised to the British peerage in June, 1821), afterwards himself Marquis of 
 Conyngham.
 
 i822.] THE KING IS DISPUTATIOUS. 31 
 
 field, also exercised the functions of private secretary, be- 
 cause this involved a much more serious question. He said 
 that he did not know ; all he knew was that whilst he was at 
 Brighton Bloomfield was absent for five days, and that during 
 that time the other had ostensibly occupied the place which 
 Bloomfield used to hold about the King's person. The com- 
 mencement of this revolution in the King's sentiments is to be 
 dated from the journey to Hanover. Now Bloomfield sits 
 amongst the guests at dinner at the Pavilion ; the honors are 
 done by the father on one side and the son on the other. 
 
 1822. 
 
 July 30^. Madame de Lieven is ill with the King, and is 
 miserable in consequence. Lady Cowper is her confidante, 
 and the Duke of Wellington ; but this latter pretends to know 
 nothing of it, and asked me the other day what it was, I am 
 sure in order to discover what people say. When the Duke 
 was at Brighton in the winter, he and the King had a dispute 
 about the army. It began (it was at dinner) by the King's 
 saying that the Russians or the Prussians (I forget which) 
 were the best infantry in the world. The Duke said, " Ex- 
 cept your Majesty's." The King then said the English cav- 
 alry were the best, which the Duke denied ; then that an in- 
 ferior number of French regiments would always beat a su- 
 perior number of English, and, in short, that they were not 
 half so effective. The King was very angry ; the dispute 
 waxed warm, and ended by his Majesty rising from table and 
 saying, " Well, it is not for me to dispute on such a subject 
 with your Grace." The King does not like the Duke, nor 
 does the Duke of York. This I know from himself. 
 
 August \^th. I went to Cirencester on Friday and came 
 back yesterday. At Hounslow I heard of the death of Lord 
 Londonderry. 1 When I got to town I met several people who 
 had all assumed an air of melancholy, a visage de circonstance, 
 which provoked me inexpressibly, because it was certain that 
 
 1 Lord Castlereagh, far better known by that name, succeeded as second Marquis 
 of Londonderry on the nth of April, 1821 only sixteen months before his death.
 
 32 THE CREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1822. 
 
 they did not care ; indeed, if they felt at all, it was probably 
 rather satisfaction at an event happening than sorrow for the 
 death of the person. It seems Lord Londonderry had been 
 unwell for some time, but not seriously, and a few days before 
 this catastrophe he became much worse, and was very much 
 dejected. He told Lord Granville some time ago that he was 
 worn out with fatigue, and he told Count Munster the other 
 day that he was very ill indeed. The Duke of Wellington 
 saw him on Friday, and was so struck by the appearance of 
 illness about him that he sent Bankhead to him. He was 
 cupped on Saturday in London, got better, and went to Foot's 
 Cray. On Sunday he was worse, and the state of dejection 
 in which he appeared induced his attendants to take certain 
 precautions, which unfortunately, however, proved fruitless 
 They removed his pistols and his razors, but he got hold of a 
 penknife which was in the room next his, and on Sunday 
 night or early on Monday morning he cut his throat with it. 
 
 I had hardly any acquaintance with Lord Londonderry, and 
 therefore am not in the slightest degree affected by his death. 
 As a minister he is a great loss to his party, and still greater 
 to his friends and dependents, to whom he was the best of 
 patrons ; to the country I think he is none. Nobody can deny 
 that his talents were great, and perhaps he owed his influence 
 and authority as much to his character as to his abilities. 
 His appearance was dignified and imposing ; he was affable in 
 his manners and agreeable in society. The great feature of 
 his character was a cool and determined courage, which gave 
 an appearance of resolution and confidence to all his actions, 
 and inspired his friends with admiration and excessive devo- 
 tion to him, and caused him to be respected by his most vio- 
 lent opponents. As a speaker he was prolix, monotonous, 
 and never eloquent, except, perhaps, for a few minutes when 
 provoked into a passion by something which had fallen out in 
 debate. But, notwithstanding these defects, and still more 
 the ridicule which his extraordinary phraseology had drawn 
 upon him, he was always heard with attention. He never 
 spoke ill ; his speeches were continually replete with good
 
 1822.] LORD LONDONDERRY. 33 
 
 sense and strong argument, and though they seldom offered 
 much to admire, they generally contained a great deal to be 
 answered. I believe he was considered one of the best man- 
 agers of the House of Commons who ever sat in it, and he 
 was eminently possessed of the good taste, good humor, and 
 agreeable manners which are more requisite to make a good 
 leader than eloquence, however brilliant. With these quali- 
 ties, it maybe asked why he was not a better minister, and 
 who can answer that question ? or who can aver that he did 
 not pursue the policy which he conscientiously believed to be 
 most advantageous to his country ? Nay, more, who can say 
 but from surmise and upon speculation that it was not the 
 best ? I believe that he was seduced by his vanity, that his 
 head was turned by emperors, kings, and congresses, and that 
 he was resolved that the country which he represented should 
 play as conspicuous a part as any other in the political dramas 
 which were acted on the Continent. The result of his policy 
 is this, that we are mixed up in the affairs of the Continent in 
 a manner we have never been before, which entails upon us 
 endless negotiations and enormous expenses. We have asso- 
 ciated ourselves with the members of the Holy Alliance, and 
 countenanced the acts of ambition and despotism in such a 
 manner as to have drawn upon us the detestation of the na- 
 tions of the Continent ; and our conduct towards them at the 
 close of the war has brought a stain upon our character for 
 bad faith and desertion which no time will wipe away, and 
 the recollection of which will never be effaced from their 
 minds. 
 
 August 19/7*. I went to Brighton on Saturday to see the 
 Duke (of York) ; returned to-day. The Pavilion is finished. 
 The King has had a subterranean passage made from the 
 house to the stables, which is said to have cost 3,ooo/. or 
 5,ooo/. : I forget which. There is also a bath in his apart- 
 ment, with pipes to conduct water from the sea ; these pipes 
 cost 6oo/. The King has not taken a sea bath for sixteen 
 years. 
 
 The Marquis of Londonderry is to be buried to-morrow in
 
 34 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1822. 
 
 Westminster Abbey. It is thought injudicious to have any- 
 thing like an ostentatious funeral, considering the circum- 
 stances under which he died, but it is the particular wish of 
 his widow. She seems to consider the respect which is paid 
 to his remains as a sort of testimony to his character, and 
 nothing will pacify her feelings or satisfy her affection but 
 seeing him interred with all imaginable honors. It seems 
 that he gave several indications of a perturbed mind a short 
 time previous to his death. For some time past he had been 
 dejected, and his mind was haunted with various apprehen- 
 sions, particularly with a notion that he was in great personal 
 danger. On the day (the 3d of August) he gave a great din- 
 ner at Cray to his political friends, some of them finding the 
 wine very good, wished to compliment him upon it, and Ar- 
 buthnot called out, " Lord Londonderry ! " He instantly 
 jumped up with great vivacity, and stood as if in expectation 
 of something serious that was to follow. When he was told 
 that it was about the wine they wished to speak to him, he 
 sat down ; but his manner was so extraordinary that Huskis- 
 son remarked it to Wilmot as they came home. In the last 
 interview which the Duke of Wellington had with him he said 
 he never heard him converse upon affairs with more clearness 
 and strength of mind than that day. In the middle of the 
 conversation, however, he said, " To prove to you what danger 
 I am in, my own servants think so, and that I ought to go off 
 directly, that I have no time to lose, and they keep my horses 
 saddled that I may get away quickly ; they think that I should 
 not have time to go away in a carriage." Then ringing the 
 bell violently, he said to the servant, " Tell me, sir, instantly, 
 who ordered my horses here ; who sent them up to town ? " 
 The man answered that the horses were at Cray, and had 
 never been in town. The Duke desired the man to go, and in 
 consequence of this strange behavior wrote the letter to Bank- 
 head which has been since published. 
 
 August 2oth. Knighton went with the King to Scotland, 
 and slept in one of his Majesty's own cabins, that next to him. 
 He is supposed to have been appointed Privy Purse. Bloom-
 
 1822.] CANNING MADE MINISTER. 35 
 
 field has got the mission to Stockholm. When Bloomfield was 
 dimissed a disposition was shown to treat him in a very un- 
 ceremonious manner : but he would not stand this, and dis- 
 played a spirit which he was probably enabled to assume in 
 consequence of what he knows. When they found he was not 
 to be bullied they treated with him, and gave him every honor 
 and emolument he could desire. 
 
 September 2.2d. The danger in which the Duke of Wel- 
 lington was sensibly affected the King, because at this moment 
 the Duke is in high favor with him ; and when he heard he 
 was so ill he sent Knighton to him to comfort him with a 
 promise that he would reconsider the proposal of receiving 
 Canning, and the next day he signified his consent. I saw a 
 note from Lady Conyngham to Lady Bathurst, in which she 
 gave an account of the uneasiness and agitation in which the 
 King had been in consequence of the Duke's illness, saying 
 how much she had suffered in consequence, and how great 
 had been their relief when Knighton brought word that he was 
 better. The " dear King," she said, was more composed. 
 She added that she (Lady B.) would hear that evening what 
 would give her pleasure, and this was that the King had 
 agreed to take Canning. In a conversation also Lady C. said 
 that she did hope, now the King had yielded his own inclina- 
 tion to the wishes and advice of his ministers, that they would 
 behave to him better than they had done. Canning was sworn 
 in on Monday. His friends say that he was very well re- 
 ceived. The King told Madame de Lieven that having con- 
 sented to receive him, he had behaved to him, as he always 
 did, in the most gentlemanlike manner he could, and that on 
 delivering to him the seals, he said to him that he had been 
 advised by his ministers that his abilities and eloquence ren- 
 dered him the only fit man to succeed to the vacancy which 
 Lord Londonderry's death had made, and that, in appointing 
 him to the situation, he had only to desire that he would follow 
 the steps of his predecessor. This Madame de Lieven told to 
 Lady Jersey, and she to me. It seems that the King was so 
 struck with Lord Londonderry's manner (for he said to the
 
 36 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1823. 
 
 King nearly what he said to the Duke of Wellington), and so 
 persuaded that some fatal catastrophe would take place, that 
 when Peel came to inform him of what had happened, he said 
 to him before he spoke, " I know you are come to tell me that 
 Londonderry is dead." Peel had just left him, and upon re- 
 ceiving the dispatches immediately returned ; and when Lady 
 Conyngham was told by Lord Mount Charles that there was 
 a report that he was dead, she said, " Good God ! then he has 
 destroyed himself." She knew what had passed with the 
 King, and was the only person to whom he had told it. 
 
 December 2$th. The other day I went to Bushy with the 
 Duke [of York], and as we passed over Wimbledon Common 
 he showed me the spot where he fought his duel with the 
 Duke of Richmond. He then told me the whole story and 
 all the circumstances which led to it, most of which are in 
 print. That which I had never heard before was that at a 
 masquerade three masks insulted the Prince of Wales, when 
 the Duke interfered, desired the one who was most promi- 
 nent to address himself to him, and added that he suspected 
 him to be an officer in his regiment (meaning Colonel Lennox), 
 and if he was he was a coward and a disgrace to his profes- 
 sion ; if he was not the person he took him for, he desired him 
 to unmask, and he would beg his pardon. The three masks 
 were supposed to be Colonel Lennox, the Duke of Gordon, 
 and Lady Charlotte. This did not lead to any immediate 
 consequences, but perhaps indirectly contributed to what fol- 
 lowed. The Duke never found out whether the masks were the 
 people he suspected. 
 
 1823. 
 
 Some particulars concerning the late King's will were told 
 me by the Duke of York as we were going to Oatlands to shoot 
 on Wednesday, the 8th of January, 1823. The King was em- 
 powered by Act of Parliament to make a will about the year 
 1766. In 1770 he made a will, by which he left all he had to 
 the Queen for her life, Buckingham House to the Duke of 
 Clarence, some property to the Duke of Kent, and to the
 
 1823.] THE DUKE OF YORK. 37 
 
 Duke of York his second best George and some other trifling 
 remembrance. He considered the Duke of York provided for 
 by the Bishopric of Osnaburgh. Of this will three copies 
 were made ; one was deposited in the German chancellerie in 
 England, one in Hanover, and the other it was believed the 
 King kept himself. He afterwards resolved to cancel this will, 
 and two of the copies of it were destroyed, the third still ex- 
 isting (I could not make out by what means if he told me I 
 have forgotten or which copy it was that survived). In 1810 
 the King made another will, but for various reasons he always 
 put off signing it, once or twice because he wished to make al- 
 terations in it ; at length he appointed a day to sign it, but 
 when the Chancellor brought it one of the witnesses was 
 absent, and the signature was again postponed. Other days 
 were afterwards fixed for this purpose, but before the signa- 
 ture was affixed the King was taken ill, and consequently the 
 will never was signed. After the death of the King the only 
 good will, therefore, was his original will of 1770, which was 
 produced and read in the presence of the King, the Chan- 
 cellor, Vice-chancellor, Lord Liverpool, the Duke of York, 
 Adair, the King's solicitor (Spyer his name), and one or two 
 others whom he mentioned. Buckingham House, which had 
 been left to the Duke of Clarence, had been twice sold ; the 
 Queen and the Duke of Kent were dead ; the only legatee, 
 therefore, was the Duke of York. Now arose a difficulty 
 whether the property of the late King demised to the king or 
 to the crown. The Chancellor said that the only person who 
 had anything to say to the will was the Duke of York ; but 
 the Duke and the King differed with regard to the right of 
 inheritance, and the Duke, wishing to avoid any dispute or 
 discussion on the subject, begged to wash his hands of the 
 whole matter. The King conceives that the whole of the 
 late King's property devolves upon him personally, and not 
 upon the crown, and he has consequently appropriated to 
 himself the whole of the money and jewels. The money 
 did not amount to more than i2O,ooo/. So touchy is he about 
 pecuniary matters that his ministers have never dared to 
 
 428527
 
 38 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1823. 
 
 remonstrate with him, nor to tell him that he has no right so 
 to act. The consequence is that he has spent the money, 
 and has taken to himself the jewels as his own private prop- 
 erty. The Duke thinks that he has no right thus to ap- 
 propriate their father's property, but that it belongs to the 
 crown. The King has acted in a like manner with regard to 
 the Queen's [Charlotte's] jewels. She possessed a great quan- 
 tity, some of which had been given her by the late King on her 
 marriage, and the rest she had received in presents at different 
 times. Those which the late King had given her she con- 
 ceived to belong to the crown, and left them back to the pres- 
 ent King ; the rest she left to her daughters. The King has 
 al?o appropriated the Queen's [Caroline's] jewels to himself, 
 and conceives that they are his undoubted private property. 
 The Duke thinks that the ministers ought to have taken the 
 opportunity of the coronation, when a new crown was to be 
 provided, to state to him the truth with regard to the jewels, 
 and to suggest that they should be converted to that purpose. 
 This, however, they dared not do, and so that matter remains. 
 The King had even a design of selling the library collected 
 by the late King, but this he was obliged to abandon, for the 
 ministers and the royal family must have interfered to op- 
 pose so scandalous a transaction. It was therefore presented 
 to the British Museum. 
 
 January 2$t/i. The Duke saw the King of France twice 
 while he was in Paris. He was much broken, but talked of 
 living twelve or fourteen years. The second time he was in 
 better health and spirits than the first time. Madame du 
 Cayla sent to the Duke to ask him to call upon her ; he went 
 twice and she was not at home. At his levee the King said, 
 " II y a une personne qui regret 'te beaucoup de ft 1 avoir pas eu 
 le plaisir de TJOUS votr." The courtiers told him the King 
 meant Madame du C. He went the same evening and 
 saw her. She is a fine woman, about forty, and agreeable. 
 She sees the King every Wednesday ; he writes notes and 
 verses to her, and he has given her a great deal of money. He 
 has built a house for her, and given her a terre near St. Denis
 
 1823.] NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 39 
 
 which is valued at 1,500,000 francs. The King likes M. de 
 Villele J exceedingly. He has occasionally talked to the Duke 
 of Bonaparte. One day, when they were standing together 
 at the window which looks upon the garden of the Tuileries, 
 
 he said, " One day Bonaparte was standing here with , 
 
 and he said, pointing to the Chamber of Deputies, * Vous voyez 
 ce bailment la : si je les de'muselais, je serais detroite"? I said, 
 ' The King has given them freedom of debate, and I think I 
 go on very well with it.' " 
 
 The Duke said he had been struck down by a musket shot 
 whilst reconnoitring the enemy as they were retreating in the 
 Pyrenees. The people round him thought he was killed, but 
 he got up directly. Alava was wounded a few minutes before 
 him, and Major Brooke nearly at the same time. He is of 
 opinion that Massena was the best French general to whom 
 he was ever opposed. 
 
 He said that Bonaparte had not the patience requisite for 
 defensive operations. His last campaign (before the capture 
 of Paris) was very brilliant, probably the ablest of all his per- 
 formances. The Duke is of opinion that if he had possessed 
 greater patience he would have succeeded in compelling the 
 allies to retreat ; but they had adopted so judicious a system 
 of defense that he was foiled in the impetuous attacks he 
 made upon them, and after a partial failure which he met with, 
 when he attacked Bliicher at Laon and Craon, he got tired of 
 pursuing a course which afforded no great results, and leaving 
 a strong body under Marmont to watch Bliicher, he threw 
 himself into the rear of the Grand Army. The march upon 
 Paris entirely disconcerted him and finished the war. The 
 allies could not have maintained themselves much longer, and 
 
 1 Villele was a lieutenant in the navy, and afterwards went to the Isle of France, 
 where he was a member of the council (or whatever the legislation was called). At 
 the Revolution he returned to France and lived with his family near Toulouse, be- 
 came a member of the departmental body, and subsequently Mayor of Toulouse : he 
 was afterwards elected a member of the Chamber, when he distinguished himself by 
 his talents for debate, and became one of the chiefs of the Ultra party. He was a 
 member of the Due de Richelieu's government, which he soon quitted, and was one 
 of the principal instruments in overturning it. He anticipates a long administration. 
 C. C. G.
 
 4O THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1823. 
 
 had he continued to keep his force concentrated, and to carry 
 it as occasion required against one or other of the two armies, 
 the Duke thinks he must eventually have forced them to re- 
 treat, and that their retreat would have been a difficult opera- 
 tion. The British army could not have reached the scene of 
 operations for two months. The allies did not dare attack 
 Napoleon ; if he had himself come up he should certainly have 
 attacked him, for his army was the best that ever existed. 
 
 The Duke added that he traced back the present politics of 
 France to their chagrin at the dissolution of the family com- 
 pact. At the general pacification the Duke, on the part of 
 the English government, insisted upon that treaty not being 
 renewed, and made a journey to Madrid for the purpose of 
 determining the Spanish government. Talleyrand and the 
 King of France made great efforts to induce the Duke to 
 desist from his opposition to the renewal of the treaty, and 
 both were exceedingly mortified at being unable to shake the 
 determination of our government on this point. 
 
 The Duke of Wellington told me that Knighton ] managed 
 the King's affairs very well, that he was getting him out of 
 debt very quickly, and that the ministers were well satisfied 
 with him. When he was appointed to the situation he now 
 holds, he called at Apsley House to announce it to the Duke, 
 and expressed his hopes that the appointment would not dis- 
 please him. The Duke said that he could have no objection, 
 but he would give him a piece of advice he trusted he would 
 take in good part : this was, that he would confine himself to 
 the discharge of the functions belonging to his own situation, 
 and that he would not in any way interfere with the govern- 
 ment ; that as long as he should so conduct himself he would 
 go on very well, but that if ever he should meddle with the 
 concerns of the ministers he would give them such offense 
 that they would not suffer him to remain in a situation which 
 
 1 Sir William Knighton, who was originally the King's physician, had been ap- 
 pointed Keeper of the King's Privy Seal, and Receiver of the Duchies of Lancaster 
 and Cornwall ; but in fact he acted as the King's Private Secretary, and it was to thf 
 duties of that delicate office that the Duke's advice applied.
 
 1823.] THE DUKE OF YORK. 41 
 
 he should thus abuse. Knighton thanked him very much for 
 his advice, and promised to conform himself to it. It seems 
 that he told this to the King, for the next time the Duke saw 
 him the King said he had heard the advice which he had 
 given to "a person," and that he might depend upon that 
 person's following it entirely. 
 
 November 2.gth. In the various conversations which I 
 have with the Duke of York he continually tells me a variety 
 of facts more or less curious, sometimes relating to politics, 
 but more frequently concerning the affairs of the royal 
 family, that I have neglected to note down at the time, and I 
 generally forget them afterwards. I must acknowledge, how- 
 ever, that they do not interest me so much as they would many 
 other people. I have not much taste for court gossip. An- 
 other reason, too, is the difficulty of making a clear narrative 
 out of his confused communications. The principal anecdotes 
 he has told me have been, as well as I recollect, relative to the 
 Duchess of Gloucester's marriage, to the Duke of Cumber- 
 land's marriage and all the dissensions to which that event 
 gave rise in the royal family, the differences between the 
 King and Prince Leopold, and other trifling matters which I 
 have forgotten. In all of these histories the King acted a 
 part, in which his bad temper, bad judgment, falseness, and 
 duplicity were equally conspicuous. I think it is not possible 
 for any man to have a worse opinion of another than the Duke 
 has of the King. From various instances of eccentricities I 
 am persuaded that the King is subject to occasional impres- 
 sions which produce effects like insanity ; that if they continue 
 to increase he will end by being decidedly mad. The last 
 thing which I have heard was at Euston the other day. I 
 went into the Duke's room, and found him writing ; he got up 
 and told me that he was thrown into a great dilemma by the 
 conduct of the King who had behaved extremely ill to him. 
 The matter which I could collect was this : Upon the disturb- 
 ances breaking out in the West Indies it became necessary to 
 send off some troops as quickly as possible. In order to 
 make the necessary arrangements without delay, the Duke
 
 42 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1823. 
 
 made various dispositions, a part of which consisted in the 
 removal of the regiment on guard at Windsor and the substi- 
 tution of another in its place. Orders were expedited to carry 
 this arrangement into effect, and at the same time he commu- 
 nicated to the King what he had done and desired his sanction 
 to the arrangement. The Duke's orders were already in oper- 
 ation, when he received a letter from the King to say that he 
 liked the regiment which was at Windsor, and that it should 
 not move ; and in consequence of this fancy the whole busi- 
 ness was at a stand-still. Thus he thought proper to trifle 
 with the interests of the country to gratify his own childish 
 caprice. He gave, too, great offense to the Duke, in hinder- 
 ing his dispositions from being carried into effect, at the same 
 time. 
 
 The Duke told me another thing which he thought was in- 
 directly connected with the first. It seems one of the people 
 about the court had ordered some furniture to be removed 
 from Cumberland Lodge to Windsor (something for the 
 chapel). Stephenson, as head of the Board of Works, on 
 being informed this was done, wrote to the man to know by 
 what orders he had done it. The man showed the letter to 
 the King, who was exceedingly incensed, and wrote to Lord 
 Liverpool to say that Stephenson's letter was insulting to him, 
 and desired he might be turned out. After some correspond- 
 ence on the subject Lord Liverpool persuaded the King to 
 reinstate him ; but he was obliged to make all sorts of apolo- 
 gies and excuses for having done what it was his duty to do. 
 Stephenson is a friend and servant of the Duke's, and in his 
 ill-humor he tried to revenge himself upon the Duke as well 
 as on Stephenson, and he thwarted the Duke in his military 
 arrangements. What made his conduct the less excusable was 
 that it was important that these things should be done quickly, 
 and as the Duke was out of town a correspondence became 
 necessary, by which great delay would be caused.
 
 1826.] GEORGE III. AND LORD BUTE. 43 
 
 1826. 
 
 London, December I4///. The Duke of York very ill ; has 
 been at the point of death several times from his legs mortify- 
 ing. Canning's speech the night before last was most brill- 
 iant ; much more cheered by the opposition than by his own 
 friends. He is thought to have been imprudent, and he gave 
 offense to his colleagues by the concluding sentence of his 
 reply, when he said, "/ called into existence the new world to 
 redress the balance of the old." The / was not relished. 
 Brougham's compliment to Canning was magnificent, and 
 he was loudly cheered by Peel ; altogether it was a fine dis- 
 play. 
 
 Yesterday the Duke [of York] told me that the late King 
 [George III.] was walking with him one day at Kew, and his 
 Majesty said, " The world tells many lies, and here is one 
 instance. I am said to have held frequent communication 
 with Lord Bute, and the last time I ever saw or spoke to him 
 was in that pavilion in the year 1764." The King went over 
 to breakfast with his mother, the Princess Dowager, and she 
 took him aside and said, " There is somebody here who wishes 
 very much to speak to you." " Who is it ? " " Lord Bute." 
 " Good God, mamma ! how could you bring him here ? It is 
 impossible for me to hold any communication with Lord Bute 
 in this manner." However, he did see him, when Lord Bute 
 made a violent attack upon him for having abandoned and 
 neglected him. The King replied that he could not, in justice 
 to his ministers, hold any communication with him unknown 
 to them, when Lord Bute said that he would never see the 
 King again. The King became angry in his turn and said, 
 " Then, my lord, be it so, and remember from henceforth we 
 never meet again." And from that day he never beheld Lord 
 Bute or had any communication with him.
 
 44 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1827. 
 
 1827. 
 
 Friday night, January $th, half-past one. I am just come 
 from taking my last look at the poor Duke. 1 He expired at 
 twenty minutes after nine. Since eleven o'clock last night 
 the physicians never left his room. He never moved, and 
 they repeatedly thought that life was extinct, but it was not 
 till that hour that they found it was all over. The Duke of 
 Sussex and Stephenson were in the next room ; Taylor, Tor- 
 rens and Dighton, Armstrong and I, were up-stairs. Arm- 
 strong and I had been there about half an hour when they 
 came and whispered something to Dighton and called out 
 Taylor. Dighton told Torrens and they went out ; imme- 
 diately after Taylor came up, and told us it was all over, and 
 begged we would go down-stairs. We went directly into the 
 room. The Duke was sitting exactly as at the moment he 
 died, in his great arm-chair, dressed in his gray dressing-gown, 
 his head inclined against the side of the chair, his hands lying 
 before him, and looking as if he were in a deep and quiet 
 sleep. Not a vestige of pain was perceptible on his counte- 
 nance, which, except being thinner, was exactly such as I have 
 seen it a hundred times during his life. In fact, he had not 
 suffered at all, and had expired with all the ease and tranquil- 
 lity which the serenity of his countenance betokened. Nothing 
 about or around him had the semblance of death ; it was all 
 like quiet repose, and it was not without a melancholy satis- 
 faction we saw such evident signs of the tranquillity of his last 
 moments. 
 
 In about a quarter of an hour Taylor and Halford set off to 
 Windsor to inform the King ; the Duke of Sussex went to the 
 Princess Sophia ; letters were written to all the Cabinet Min- 
 isters, to the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Bishop of London, 
 and the Speaker of the House of Commons. Orders were 
 given that the great bell of St. Paul's should toll. The ser- 
 vants were then admitted to see the Duke as he lay. Worley 2 
 
 1 His Royal Highness the Duke of York, second son of King George III., died 
 on the 5th of January, 1827. 
 1 Worley was the Duke's stud-groom.
 
 1827.] ILLNESS OF THE DUKE OF YORK. 45 
 
 was very much affected at the sight, and one woman, the wife 
 of Kendal cried bitterly, and I saw her stoop down and kiss 
 his hand. The room was then cleared and surrendered to the 
 Lord Chamberlain's people. Thus did I take my last leave of 
 the poor Duke. I have been the minister and associate of his 
 pleasures and amusements for some years, I have lived in his 
 intimacy and experienced his kindness, and am glad that I was 
 present at this last sad occasion to pay my poor tribute of re- 
 spect and attachment to his remains. 
 
 After the October meetings of 1825 the Duke came to town, 
 not in good health. At the end of November the Duchess of 
 Rutland died, which was a great blow to him, and probably 
 made him worse. A short time after her funeral he went to 
 Belvoir, when the Duke of Rutland took him down into the 
 vault, where he stayed an hour and returned excessively 
 chilled. From that moment he grew worse till the time of the 
 Ascot races. We went to Frogmore two days before the 
 party began, and for those two days he led a quiet life. When 
 the party was assembled he lived as he had been used to do, 
 going to the races, sitting at table, and playing for hours at 
 whist. He slept wretchedly and seldom went to bed, but 
 passed the greater part of the night walking about the room 
 or dozing in his chair. I used to go into his room, which was 
 next to mine, the moment I was out of bed, and generally 
 found him in his dressing-gown, looking harassed and ill. 
 He showed me his legs, which were always swelled. Still he 
 went on till the last day of the party, and when we got to town 
 he was so ill that M'Gregor, who came to him that night, 
 thought him in danger. From that moment the illness was 
 established which has ended in his death. They began by 
 putting him through several courses of mercury, and they sent 
 him to the Greenwoods' villa at Brompton. Here he con- 
 tinued to receive everybody who called on him, and went out 
 in his carriage every day. They always said that he was get- 
 ting better. In August he went to Brighton, and soon after 
 his arrival his legs mortified. It was then that Taylor went 
 down to him and told him that he was in great and immediate
 
 46 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1827. 
 
 danger. He received the information with perfect composure. 
 The gangrene, however, was stopped, and he came to town to 
 the Duke of Rutland's house. The dropsy continued to make 
 rapid progress, and some time in September he was tapped ; 
 twenty-two pints of water were drawn from him. This opera- 
 tion was kept secret, for the Duke did not like that his situa- 
 tion should be known. He recovered from the operation and 
 regained his strength ; no more water formed in his body, but 
 there was still water in his system, and a constant discharge 
 from his legs, which occasioned him great pain and made 
 wounds which were always open and extending. These 
 wounds again produced gangrene, but they always contrived 
 to stop its progress, and put the legs in a healing condition. 
 As often, however, as the legs began to heal the water began 
 to rise, and the medicines that were given to expel the water 
 drove it again to the legs, through which it made its way, 
 making fresh sores and entailing fresh mortification. In this 
 way he went on, the strength of his constitution still support- 
 ing him, till towards the end of December, when the constitu- 
 tion could resist no longer ; his appetite totally failed, and 
 with loss of appetite came entire prostration of strength, and 
 in short a complete break-up. From that moment it was ob- 
 vious that his recovery was impossible, but he continued to 
 struggle till the 5th of January, although he had tasted no solid 
 food whatever for above a fortnight. At all the different 
 periods at which his state was critical it was always made 
 known to him, and he received the intimation with invariable 
 firmness and composure. He said that he enjoyed life, but 
 was not afraid to die. But though perfectly acquainted with 
 his own danger he never could bear that other people should 
 be informed of it, and so far from acknowledging it, he always 
 told his friends that he was better, and his language was in- 
 variably that of a man who did not doubt of his recovery. He 
 was particularly anxious that nobody should know he had 
 been tapped, and it was not till many weeks after that opera- 
 tion that he talked of it one day to me. Up to the last mo- 
 ment that I saw him (the day week before he died) he told me
 
 1827.] ILLNESS OF DUKE OF YORK. 47 
 
 he was better, and he desired me to tell Montrond, who had 
 called upon him, that he would see him as soon as he was well 
 enough. He held the same language to everybody until the 
 day previous to his death, when he sent for Taylor and Ste- 
 phenson into his room. He could then hardly speak, but he 
 took hold of Stephenson's hand, and looking at Taylor, said, 
 " I am now dying." He tried to articulate something else, but 
 he was unintelligible. About a fortnight before his death, 
 soon after his appetite began to fail, Taylor had to announce 
 to him his danger. He received the intelligence with the same 
 coolness he had before shown, but it was not without difficulty 
 that he admitted the conviction. A few days after he received 
 the Sacrament, which was administered by the Bishop of 
 London, in the presence of Sir H. Halford, Taylor, and the 
 Princess Sophia. ' He was then very weak, but calm and col- 
 lected during the ceremony. When it was over he shook 
 hands with the men and kissed the Princess. The King saw 
 him the next day, but he was in a lethargic state nearly the 
 whole time that he was there. For many days before his 
 death the physicians thought that every day must close the 
 scene, but such was the natural strength of his constitution 
 that he evinced a tenacity of life and maintained a struggle 
 which astonished them all, and of which they unanimously 
 declared that their practice had never furnished them with a 
 similar instance. It seems that three years ago, when he was 
 very unwell, M'Gregor told him that unless he was more pru- 
 dent he would certainly be afflicted with dropsy. He had 
 been subject to spasms, and in consequence of them was 
 averse to lie down in bed, and to this pernicious habit and that 
 of sitting for many hours together at table, or at cards, they 
 attribute the origin of the complaint which has terminated so 
 fatally. Had he been a more docile patient, from the amazing 
 vigor of his constitution he might have looked forward to a 
 very long life. His sufferings in the course of his illness have 
 been very great, and almost without cessation. Nothing could 
 exceed the patience and courage with which he endured them ; 
 his serenity and good humor were never disturbed, and he
 
 48 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1827. 
 
 never uttered a word or complaint, except occasionally at the 
 length of his confinement. He not only saw all the visitors 
 who chose to call upon him, even those with whom he was not 
 in habits of intimacy, but he transacted the whole of his public 
 business every day, and every paper was laid before him and 
 every detail gone through as if he had been in perfect health. 
 This he continued to within a few days of his death, till his 
 strength was so entirely exhausted that he lay in a state of 
 almost complete insensibility. It is remarkable that from the 
 beginning to the end of his illness I never saw him that he 
 did not tell me that he was a great deal better, and he never 
 wrote to me without assuring me that he was going on as well 
 as possible. 
 
 February 12th. The Duke of York was no sooner dead 
 than the public press began to attack him, and while those 
 private virtues were not denied him for which he had always 
 been conspicuous, they enlarged in a strain of severe invec- 
 tive against his careless and expensive habits, his addiction to 
 gambling ; and above all they raked up the old story of Mrs. 
 Clark and the investigation of 1809, and published many of 
 his letters and all the disgusting details of that unfortunate 
 affair, and that in a manner calculated to throw discredit on 
 his character. The newspapers, however, soon found they 
 had made a mistake, that this course was not congenial to 
 public feeling, and from that moment their columns have been 
 filled with panegyrics upon his public services and his private 
 virtues. The King ordered that the funeral should be public 
 and magnificent ; all the details of the ceremonial were ar- 
 ranged by himself. He showed great feeling about his brother 
 and exceeding kindness in providing for his servants, whom 
 the Duke was himself unable to provide for. He gave 6,ooo/. 
 to pay immediate expenses and took many of the old servants 
 into his own service. There appeared a few days after the 
 Duke's death an infamous forgery, purporting to be a letter 
 or declaration written by him a short time before his death 
 (principally upon the subject of the Catholic question), which, 
 however, was disavowed by Taylor, but not till after many
 
 1827.1 OLD RUNDELL. 49 
 
 thousand copies had been sold. I dare say many people be- 
 lieve still that he was the author of this pamphlet. All his 
 effects either have been or will be sold by auction. The 
 funeral took place a fortnight after his death. Nothing could 
 be managed worse than it was, and except the appearance of 
 the soldiers in the chapel, which was extremely fine, the spec- 
 tacle was by no means imposing ; the cold was intense, and it 
 is only marvelous that more persons did not suffer from it. 
 As it is, the Bishop of Lincoln has died of the effects of it ; 
 Canning has been dangerously ill, and is still very unwell ; 
 and the Dukes of Wellington and Montrose were both very 
 seriously unwell for some days after. The King was very 
 angry when he heard how miserably the ceremony had been 
 performed. I have been this evening to hear Peel move the 
 address of condolence to the King, which Canning would have 
 done if he had been here ; and it is a pity he was not, for Peel 
 did it very ill : it was poor and jejune, and undistinguished by 
 eloquence or the appearance of deep feeling. I was greatly 
 disappointed, for I expected to hear a worthier tribute to his 
 merits. Canning was very anxious to have been here to 
 have performed this duty himself. The letters which he 
 wrote to the royal family abroad announcing the event of 
 his death were admirable, and gave great satisfaction to the 
 King. 
 
 February zist. Old Rundell (of the house of Rundell and 
 Bridge, the great silversmiths and jewelers) died last week, and 
 appointed Robarts one of his executors. Robarts called on me 
 this morning, and told me he had been yesterday to Doctors' 
 Commons to prove the will. Rundell was eighty years old, and 
 died worth between i,4Oo,ooo/. and i,5oo,ooo/., the greater part 
 of which is vested in the funds. He has left the bulk of his 
 property to his great nephew, a man of the name of Neal, who 
 is residuary legatee and will inherit 9oo,ooo/. this Mr. Neal 
 had taken care of him for the last fourteen years to a woman 
 who had lived with him many years, and in whose house he 
 died, and to two natural sons by her, he only left 5,ooo/. apiece. 
 The old man began the world without a guinea, became in the 
 4
 
 50 THE GREVILLE MEMOJRS. 11827. 
 
 course ol time partner in that house during its most flourish- 
 ing period, and by steady gains and continual parsimony 
 amassed this enormous wealth. He never spent anything and 
 lived wretchedly. During the panic he came to Robarts, who 
 was his banker, and offered to place at his disposal any sum 
 he might require. When the executors went to prove the will, 
 they were told at Doctors' Commons that it was the largest 
 sum that ever had been registered there. 
 
 March \6th. On Wednesday at the council at St. James's 
 the King desired I would go down to Windsor, that he might 
 speak to me. I went down on Thursday to the Cottage, and, 
 after waiting two hours and a half, was ushered into his bed- 
 room. I found him sitting at a round table near his bed, in a 
 douillette, and in pretty good health and spirits. He talked 
 about his horses and told some old stories, lamented the 
 death of the Duke of York, which he said was a loss to him 
 such as no one could conceive, and that he felt it every in- 
 stant. He kept me about an hour, was very civil, and then 
 dismissed me. 
 
 June ijth. I was at the Royal Lodge for one night last 
 Wednesday ; about thirty people sat down to dinner, and the 
 company was changed nearly every day. It is a delightful 
 place to live in, but the rooms are too low and too small for 
 very large parties. Nothing can exceed the luxury of the in- 
 ternal arrangements ; the King was very well and in excellent 
 spirits, but very weak in his knees and could not walk with- 
 out difficulty. The evening passed off tolerably, owing to the 
 Tyrolese, whom Esterhazy brought down to amuse the King, 
 and he was so pleased with them that he made them sing and 
 dance before him the whole evening ; the women kissed his 
 face and the men his hand, and he talked to them in German. 
 Though this evening went off well enough, it is clear that 
 nothing would be more insupportable than to live at this 
 court ; the dullness must be excessive, and the people who 
 compose his habitual society are the most insipid and uninter- 
 esting that can be found. As for Lady Conyngham, she 
 looks bored to death, and she never speaks, never appears to
 
 1827.] AT THE ROYAL LODGE. 51 
 
 have one word to say to the King, who, however, talks him- 
 self without ceasing. Canning came the day I went away, 
 and was very well received by his Majesty ; he looked dread- 
 fully ill. The only thing which interested me was the account 
 I heard from Francis Conyngham about Knighton. He is 
 seldom there, and when he comes scarcely stays above a night 
 or two. But he governs everything about the house, and can- 
 not endure anybody who is likely to dispute his empire. The 
 King certainly does not like him, is always happier when he is 
 away, and never presses him to stay or to return. When he is 
 there he has constant access to the King at all times and 
 whenever he pleases. He is on bad terms with Mount 
 Charles, he bullies Lord Conyngham, and he is barely civil to 
 Lady C. ; he knows that Mount Charles is independent of 
 him, and that the King likes him and admits him continually 
 and familiarly to his presence, and of this it seems that he is 
 jealous. I was more struck with one word which dropped 
 from him than with all he told me of Sir W. Knighton. 
 While the Tyrolese were dancing and singing, and there was 
 a sort of gay uproar going on, with which the King was 
 greatly delighted, he said, " I would give ten guineas to see 
 Knighton walk into the room now," as if it were some master 
 who was absent, and who should suddenly return and find his 
 family and servants merry-making in his absence ; it indicates 
 a strange sort of power possessed by him. 
 
 Aitgust <)th. Canning died yesterday morning at four 
 o'clock. His danger was only announced on Sunday night, 
 though it had existed from the preceding Wednesday. When 
 he saw the King on Monday his Majesty told him he looked 
 very ill, and he replied that " he did not know what was the 
 matter with him, but that he was ill all over." Nothing could 
 exceed the consternation caused by the announcement of his 
 danger and the despair of his colleagues. From the first there 
 was no hope. He was aware of his danger, and said, " It is 
 hard upon the King to have to fight the battle over again." 
 The cabinet met on Monday, and great unanimity prevailed 
 among them. They all agreed to stand by each other in the
 
 52 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1827. 
 
 event of his death. As soon as it happened Lord Lansdowne 
 went down to Windsor and saw the King. His Majesty 
 spoke with great affection of Canning, and said something of 
 the difficulties in which he was again involved. Lord L. re- 
 plied that he had come down, as it was his official duty to do, 
 to announce to him the event ; that nothing could be further 
 from his wish or intention than to elicit from him any opinion 
 as to the future, and he begged his Majesty would not say one 
 word upon that subject. The King said that the first thing he 
 should do would be to show every mark of respect to the 
 memory and attachment to the person of Canning, and that he 
 should therefore send for those of his ministers who had been 
 the most closely connected with him in public and private life. 
 He sent immediately for Lord Goderich and Sturges Bourne, 
 who went down to him when Lord Lansdowne returned. 
 
 August loth. The Duke of Wellington talked of Canning 
 the other day a great deal at my mother's. He said his 
 talents were astonishing, his compositions admirable, that he 
 possessed the art of saying exactly what was necessary and 
 passing over those topics on which it was not advisable to 
 touch ; his fertility and resources inexhaustible. He thought 
 him the finest speaker he had ever heard ; though he prided 
 himself extremely upon his compositions, he would patiently 
 endure any criticisms upon such papers as he submitted for 
 the consideration of the Cabinet, and would allow them to be 
 altered in any way that was suggested ; he (the Duke) particu- 
 larly had often " cut and hacked " his papers, and Canning 
 never made the least objection, but was always ready to adopt 
 the suggestions of his colleagues. It was not so, however, in 
 conversation and discussion. Any difference of opinion or 
 dissent from his views threw him into ungovernable rage, and 
 on such occasions he flew out with a violence which, the Duke 
 said, had often compelled him to be silent that he might not be 
 involved in bitter personal altercation. He said that Canning 
 was usually very silent in the Cabinet, seldom spoke at all, but 
 when he did he maintained his opinions with extraordinary 
 tenacity. He said that he was one of the idlest of men. This
 
 1828.] HENRY BROUGHAM. 53 
 
 I do not believe, for I have always heard that he saw every- 
 thing and did everything himself. Not a dispatch was re- 
 ceived that he did not read, nor one written that he did not 
 dictate or correct. 
 
 1828. 
 
 January 2d. M'Gregor told me the other day that not 
 one of the physicians and surgeons who attended the Duke 
 of York through his long and painful illness had ever received 
 the smallest remuneration, although their names and services 
 had been laid before the King. He told me in addition that 
 during sixteen years that he attended the Duke and his whole 
 family he never received one guinea by way of fee or any pay- 
 ment whatever. 
 
 About three weeks ago I passed a few days at Panshanger, 
 where I met Brougham ; he came from Saturday till Monday 
 morning, and from the hour of his arrival to that of his de- 
 parture he never ceased talking. The party was agreeable 
 enough Luttrell, Rogers, etc., but it was comical to see how 
 the latter was provoked at Brougham's engrossing all the talk, 
 though he could not help listening with pleasure. Brougham 
 is certainly one of the most remarkable men I ever met ; 
 to say nothing of what he is in the world, his almost childish 
 gayety and animal spirits, his humor mixed with sarcasm, but 
 not ill-natured, his wonderful information, and the facility with 
 which he handles every subject, from the most grave and 
 severe to the most trifling, displaying a mind full of varied and 
 extensive information, and a memory which has suffered noth- 
 ing to escape it, I never saw any man whose conversation im- 
 pressed me with such an idea of his superiority over all others. 
 As Rogers said the morning of his departure, " this morning 
 Solon, Lycurgus, Demosthenes, Archimedes, Sir Isaac New- 
 ton, Lord Chesterfield, and great many more went away in one 
 post-chaise." He told us a great many details relating to the 
 Queen's trial, and amongst other things (which I do not be- 
 lieve) his conviction that the Queen had never had any in- 
 trigue with Bergami. He told us the whole story of his find- 
 ing out the departure of Rastelli, which happened from a
 
 54 THE GREKLLE MEMOIRS. [1828. 
 
 friend of his accidentally seeing Rastelli in the street, recog- 
 nizing him, and telling Brougham. Brougham told none of 
 his colleagues, and at first did not believe the story, but by 
 putting artful questions, and watching their effect, he found it 
 was so, and then out he came with it. There was a grand 
 discussion whether they should not throw up their briefs and 
 stop there, and he was all for it, but was overruled and gave 
 way. The person who was most anxious they should go on 
 was Lord Grey, for he had got a notion that they could not 
 any of them speak to evidence, and he wanted to make such a 
 speech, which he fancied he could do very well. Brougham 
 said that as leading counsel for the Queen he always reserved 
 to himself the power of acting as he thought fit, whatever the 
 opinions of his colleagues might be, though they always con- 
 sulted together and gave their sentiments upon every debated 
 point seriatim. He and Denman invariably thought alike. 
 The Queen never could bear him, and was seldom civil to him. 
 When s.he had to answer the address of the House of Com- 
 mons she appealed to her counsel for their advice, which they 
 declined to give, and she was furious, for she wanted to make 
 them advise her to accept the propositions of the House, 
 which would have been very unpopular, and then throw the 
 odium of doing so on them. 1 He spoke very highly of Alder- 
 man Wood, who behaved very well, never annoyed or inter- 
 fered with them, and seems to have been altogether a brave 
 homme. 
 
 If it had been possible to recollect all that Brougham said 
 on this and a hundred other subjects, it would be well worth 
 writing down, but such talk is much too evanescent, and I re- 
 member no more. 
 
 June 2C)th. I dined yesterday with the King at St. 
 James's his Jockey Club dinner. There were about thirty 
 
 1 This was the address moved by Mr. Wilberforce on the 22d of June, 1820. Lord 
 Brougham states in his Memoirs that the Queen resolved to reject the advice of Par- 
 liament without consulting her lawyers. In one of Lord Brougham's letters wriiten 
 at the time lie calls Wood " the ass and alderman called TAistte-wood," and at- 
 tributed to him the intrigue which brought the Queen to England.
 
 1828.] THE JOCKY CLUB DINNER. 55 
 
 people, several not being invited whom he did not fancy. 
 The Duke of Leeds told me a much greater list had been 
 made out, but he had scratched several out of it. We as- 
 sembled in the throne room, and found him already there, 
 looking very well and walking about. He soon, however, sat 
 down, and desired everybody else to do so. Nobody spoke, 
 and he laughed and said, " This is more like a Quaker than a 
 Jockey Club meeting." We soon went to dinner, which was 
 in the great supper room and very magnificent. He sat in the 
 middle, with the Dukes of Richmond and Grafton on each 
 side of him. I sat opposite to him, and he was particularly 
 gracious to me, talking to me across the table and recom- 
 mending all the good things ; he made me (after eating a 
 quantity of turtle) eat a dish of crawfish soup, till I thought I 
 should have burst. After dinner the Duke of Leeds, who sat 
 at the head of the table, gave "The King." We all stood 
 up, when his Majesty thanked us, and said he hoped this 
 would be the first of annual meetings of the sort to take place 
 there or elsewhere under his roof. He then ordered paper, 
 pens, etc., and they began making matches and stakes ; the 
 most perfect ease was established, just as much as if we had 
 been dining with the Duke of York, and he seemed delighted. 
 He made one or two little speeches, one recommending that a 
 stop should be put to the exportation of horses. He twice 
 gave " The Turf," and at the end the Duke of Richmond 
 asked his leave to give a toast, and again gave " The King." 
 He thanked all the gentlemen, and said that there was no man 
 who had the interests of the turf more at heart than himself, 
 that he was delighted at having this party, and that the oftener 
 they met the better, and he only wanted to have it pointed out 
 to him how he could promote the pleasure and amusement of 
 the turf, and he was ready to do anything in his power. He 
 got up at half-past twelve and wished us good-night. Noth- 
 ing could go off better, and Mount Charles told me he was 
 sure he was delighted. 
 
 August 6th. About three weeks ago I went to Windsor 
 to a council. The King had been very ill for a day or two,
 
 56 THE GRLVILLE MEMOIRS. [1828. 
 
 but was recovered. Bob Adair l was sworn in privy coun- 
 cilor, and he remained in the room and heard the speech, which 
 he ought not to have done. The Duke attacked me after- 
 wards (in joke) for letting him stay ; but I told him it was no 
 business of mine, and his neighbor ought to have told him to 
 go. That neighbor, however, was Vesey Fitzgerald, who said 
 it was the first time he had attended a council, and he could 
 not begin by turning another man out. I brought Adair back 
 to town, and he told me a great many things about Burke, and 
 Fox, and Fitzpatrick, and all the eminent men of that time 
 with whom he lived when he was young. He said what I 
 have often heard before, that Fitzpatrick was the most agree- 
 able of them all, but Hare the most brilliant. Burke's con- 
 versation was delightful, so luminous and instructive. He 
 was very passionate, and Adair said that the first time he ever 
 saw him he unluckily asked him some question about the wild 
 parts of Ireland, when Burke broke out, " You are a fool and 
 a blockhead ; there are no wild parts in Ireland." He was 
 extremely terrified, but afterwards Burke was very civil to 
 him, and he knew him very well. 
 
 He told me a great deal about the quarrel between Fox and 
 Burke. Fox never ceased to entertain a regard for Burke, 
 and at no time would suffer him to be abused in his presence. 
 There was an attempt made to bring about a reconciliation,' 
 and a meeting for that purpose took place of all the leading 
 men at Burlington House. Burke was on the point of yield- 
 ing, when his son suddenly made his appearance unbidden, 
 and on being told what was going on said, " My father shall 
 be no party to such a compromise," took Burke aside and per- 
 suaded him to reject the overtures. That son Adair described 
 as the most disagreeable, violent, and wrong-headed of men, 
 but the idol of his father, who used to say that he united all 
 his own talents and acquirements with those of Fox and 
 everybody else. After the death of Richard Burke, Fox and 
 
 1 Right Hon. Sir Robert Adair, the friend of Fox, formerly Ambassador at Con- 
 stantinople and Vienna. It was he whom Canning once called " Bobadare-a-dool- 
 fowla."
 
 1828.] SfR WILLIAM KNIGPITON. 57 
 
 Burke met behind the throne of the House of Lords one day, 
 when Fox went up to Burke and put out both his hands to 
 him. Burke was almost surprised into meeting this cordiality 
 in the same spirit, but the momentary impulse passed away, 
 and he doggedly dropped his hands and left the House. 
 
 December \6th. A council at Windsor yesterday ; very few 
 present, and no audiences but Aberdeen for three quarters of 
 an hour and the Duke for five minutes. I sent for Batchelor 
 and had a long talk with him. He said the King was well, but 
 weak, his constitution very strong, no malady about him, but 
 irritation in the bladder which he could not get rid of. He 
 thinks the hot rooms and want of air and exercise do him harm, 
 and that he is getting every day more averse to exercise and 
 more prone to retirement, which, besides that it weakens his 
 constitution, is a proof that he is beginning to break. Batchelor 
 thinks he is in no sort of danger ; I think he will not live 
 more than two years. He says that his attendants are quite 
 worn out with being always about him, and living in such hot 
 rooms (which obliges them to drink) and seldom getting air 
 and exercise. B. is at present well, but he sits up every other 
 night with the King and never leaves him. He is in high 
 favor, and Sir William Knighton is now as civil and obliging 
 to him as he used to be the reverse. The King instructs him 
 in his duties in the kindest manner, likes to have him about 
 him, and talks a great deal to him. But his Majesty keeps 
 everybody at a great distance from him, and all about him are 
 afraid of him, though he talks to his pages with more openness 
 and familiarity than to anybody. He thinks Radford (who is 
 dying) is not in such favor as he was, though he is always 
 there ; of O'Reilly the surgeon, who sees the King every day 
 and carries him all the gossip he can pick up, Batchelor speaks 
 with very little ceremony. The King told them the other 
 day that "O'R. was the damnedest liar in the world," and it 
 seems he is often in the habit of discussing people in this 
 way to his -valets de chatnbre. He reads a great deal, and 
 every morning has his boxes brought to him and reads their 
 contents. They are brought up by Knighton or Watson, both
 
 58 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1829. 
 
 of whom have keys of all the boxes. He says there is not 
 one person about him whom he likes Mount Charles pretty 
 well, Taylor better than anybody, Knighton constantly there 
 and his influence unbounded ; he thinks K. can do any- 
 thing. 
 
 December 2ist. I might as well have put in on the 2jth of 
 November what the King said to me, as it seems to have 
 amused everybody. I was standing close to him at the council, 
 and he put down his head and whispered, " Which are you for, 
 Cadland or the mare ? " (meaning the match between Cadland 
 and Bess of Bedlam) ; so I put my head down too and said, 
 " The horse ; " and then as we retired he said to the Duke, 
 " A little bit of Newmarket." 
 
 1829. 
 
 January \ith. Lord Mount Charles came to me this 
 morning and consulted me about resigning his seat at the 
 Treasury. He hates it and is perplexed with all that has 
 occurred between the Duke and Lord Anglesey. I advised 
 him to resign, feeling as he does about it. He told me that 
 he verily believed the King would go mad on the Catholic 
 question, his violence was so great about it. He is very angry 
 with him and his father for voting as they do, but they have 
 agreed never to discuss the matter at all, and his mother never 
 talks to the King about it. Whenever he does get on it there 
 is no stopping him. Mount Charles attributes the King's ob- 
 stinacy to his recollections of his father and the Duke of 
 York and to the influence of the Duke of Cumberland. He 
 says that " his father would have laid his head on the block 
 rather than yield, and that he is equally ready to lay his head 
 there in the same cause." He is furious with Lord Anglesey, 
 but he will be very much afraid of him when he sees him. 
 Mount Charles was in the room when Lord Anglesey took 
 leave of the King on going to Ireland, and the King said, 
 " God bless you, Anglesey ! I know you are a true Prot- 
 estant." Anglesey answered, " Sir, I will not be considered 
 either Protestant or Catholic ; I go to Ireland determined to
 
 1829.] SIR WILLIAM KNIGHTON, 59 
 
 act impartially between them and without the least bias either 
 one way or the other." Lord Anglesey dined with Mount 
 Charles the day before he went. The same morning he had 
 been with the Duke and Peel to receive their last instructions, 
 and he came to dinner in great delight with them, as they had 
 told him they knew he would govern Ireland with justice and 
 impartiality, and they would give him no instructions what- 
 ever. He showed me a letter from Mr. Harcourt Lees full 
 of invectives against the Duke and lamentations at the re- 
 call, to show how the Protestants regretted him as well as the 
 Catholics. 
 
 He then talked to me about Knighton, whom the King ab- 
 hors with a detestation that could hardly be described. He 
 is afraid of him, and that is the reason he hates him so bit- 
 terly. When alone with him he is more civil, but when others 
 are present (the family, for instance) he delights in saying the 
 most mortifying and disagreeable things to him. He would 
 give the world to get rid of him, and to have either Taylor or 
 Mount Charles instead, to whom he has offered the place over 
 and over again, but Mount Charles not only would not hear 
 of it, but often took Knighton's part with the King. He says 
 that his language about Knighton is sometimes of the most 
 unmeasured violence wishes he was dead, and one day when 
 the door was open, so that the pages could hear, he said, " I 
 wish to God somebody would assassinate Knighton." In this 
 way he always speaks of him and uses him. Knighton is 
 greatly annoyed at it, and is very seldom there. Still it ap- 
 pears there is some secret chain which binds them together, 
 and which compels the King to submit to the presence of a 
 man whom he detests, and induces Knighton to remain in 
 spite of so much hatred and ill-usage. The King's indo- 
 lence is so great that it is next to impossible to get him to 
 do even the most ordinary business, and Knighton is still the 
 only man who can prevail on him to sign papers, etc. His 
 greatest delight is to make those who have business to trans- 
 act with him, or to lay papers before him, wait in his anteroom 
 while he is lounging with Mount Charles or anybody, talking
 
 60 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1829. 
 
 of horses or any trivial matter ; and when he is told, " Sir, 
 there is Watson waiting," etc., he replies, " Damn Watson ; 
 let him wait." He does it on purpose, and likes it. 
 
 This account corresponds with all I have before heard, and 
 confirms the opinion I have long had that a more contempti- 
 ble, cowardly, selfish, unfeeling dog does not exist than this 
 king, on whom such flattery is constantly lavished. He has 
 a sort of capricious good-nature, arising however out of no 
 good principle or good feeling, but which is of use to him, as 
 it cancels in a moment and at small cost a long score of mis- 
 conduct. Princes have only to behave with common decency 
 and prudence, and they are sure to be popular, for there is a 
 great and general disposition to pay court to them. I do not 
 know anybody who is proof against their seductions when 
 they think fit to use them in the shape of civility and conde- 
 scension. The great consolation in all this is the proof that, 
 so far from deriving happiness from their grandeur, they are 
 the most miserable of all mankind. The contrast between 
 their apparent authority and the contradictions which they 
 practically meet with must be peculiarly galling, more espe- 
 cially to men whose minds are seldom regulated, as other men's 
 are, by the beneficial discipline of education and early col- 
 lision with their equals. There have been good and wise kings, 
 but not many of them. Take them one with another they are 
 of an inferior character, and this I believe to be one of the 
 worst of the kind. The littleness of his character prevents 
 his displaying the dangerous faults that belong to great minds, 
 but with vices and weaknesses of the lowest and most con- 
 temptible order it would be difficult to find a disposition more 
 abundantly furnished. 
 
 January i6//t. I went to Windsor to a council yesterday. 
 There were the Duke, the Lord Chancellor, Chancellor of the 
 Exchequer, Master of the Mint, Lord President, Lord Aber- 
 deen, Peel, Melville, Ellenborough. The King kept us wait- 
 ing rather longer than usual. He looked very well, and was 
 dressed in a blue great-coat, all over gold frogs and embroid- 
 ery. Lord Liverpool was there to give up the late lord's
 
 1829.] THE STATE PAPER OFFICE. 6 1 
 
 Garter, and had an audience. He said to me afterwards that 
 the King had asked him all sorts of questions about his fam- 
 ily concerns, with which he seemed extraordinarily well ac- 
 quainted, and to some of which he was puzzled to give an 
 answer. The King is the greatest master of gossip in the 
 world, and his curiosity about everybody's affairs is insatia- 
 ble. 
 
 January 2$th. The Duke when he dined with us the 
 other day said that a Russian Extraordinary Ambassador was 
 coming here to overhaul Lieven, a M. Matuscewitz. He is 
 the principal writer in their Foreign Office, a clever man. 
 Their dispatches are more able than they used to be, but the 
 Duke said that the Turkish offices are better conducted than 
 any, and the Turkish ministers extremely able. Lord Bath- 
 urst told me he had lately read the minutes of a conversation 
 between the Reis-Effendi and the allied ministers after the 
 battle of Navarino, when they were ignorant whether the Turk 
 had received intelligence of the event, and that his superiority 
 over them was exceedingly striking. This was the confer- 
 ence in which when they asked him " supposing such an event 
 had happened, what he should say to it." He replied "that 
 in his country they never named a child till its sex was ascer- 
 tained." 
 
 Yesterday I went with Amyot to the State Paper Office to 
 look after my council books. I found one book belonging to 
 my office and nearly thirty volumes of the " Register of the 
 Council of State," l which I mean to ask for, but which I sup- 
 pose they will refuse. Amyot suggests that as all the acts of 
 the Council of State were illegal and of no authority, they can- 
 not be considered as belonging to the Council Office, and are 
 merely historical records without an official character. I shall 
 try, however, to get them. Mr. Lemon showed us a great 
 many curious papers. When he first had the care of the state 
 papers they were in the greatest confusion, and he has been 
 diligently employed in reducing them to order. Every day 
 
 1 Of the time of the Commonwealth. The Privy Council Register extends from 
 the last years of Henry.VIII. to the present time, not including the Commonwealth.
 
 62 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1829. 
 
 has brought to light documents of importance and interest, 
 which as they are successively found are classed and ar- 
 ranged and rendered disposable for literary and historical pur- 
 poses. 
 
 Lemon has found papers relating to the Powder Plot alone 
 sufficient to make two quarto volumes, exceedingly curious ; 
 all Garnett's original papers and I hope hereafter they will be 
 published. 1 We saw the famous letter to Lord Mounteagle, 
 of which Lemon said he had, he thought, discovered the au- 
 thor. It has been attributed to Mrs. Abington, Lord Mount- 
 eagle's sister, but he thinks it was written by Mrs. Vaux, who 
 was a friend of hers, and mistress, probably, of Garnett ; it is 
 to her that many of Garnett's letters are addressed. It seems 
 that Mrs. Vaux and Mrs. Abington were both present at the 
 great meeting of the conspirators at Hendlip, and he thinks 
 that the latter, desirous of saving her brother's life, prevailed 
 on Mrs. Vaux to write the letter, for the handwriting exactly 
 corresponds with some other writing of hers which he has 
 seen. There is a remarkable paper written by King James 
 with directions what questions should be put to Guy Faux, 
 and ending with a recommendation that he should be tortured 
 first gently, and then more severely as might be necessary. 
 
 Then the depositions of Faux in the Tower, which had 
 been taken down (contrary to his desire) in writing, and which 
 he was compelled to sign upon the rack ; his signature was 
 written in faint and trembling characters, and his strength had 
 evidently failed in the middle, for he had only written 
 
 1 The substance of these papers has since been published by the late David Jar- 
 dine, Esq., in his excellent Narrative of Ike Gunpowder Plot (Murray, London, 
 1857). Some of the particulars here referred to by Mr. Greville are not strictly ac- 
 curate, or at least have not been confirmed by subsequent investigation. It is not 
 probable that the letter to Lord Mounteagle was written by Mrs. Abington or by 
 Mrs. Vaux, nor is it at all certain that either of these ladies had any knowledge of 
 the Plot. Mr. Jardine ascribes the letter to Treshnm (Narrative, etc., p. 83). Gar- 
 nett's admissions are printed in Jardine's Appendix. His knowledge of the Plot 
 was derived from Greenway, a priest to whom Catesby had revealed it in confession. 
 The Pope was probably not privy to the Plot. The celebrated Treatise on Equivo- 
 cation was found in Tresham's desk. The identical copy with Garnett's notes ia 
 still in the Bodleian ; it was reprinted in 1851.
 
 1829-j SUGDEN ON BOTH SIDES. 63 
 
 " Guido." There is a distinct admission in the Plot papers 
 in Garnett's own hand that he came to a knowledge of the 
 Plot otherwise than' by the Sacrament of Confession, which 
 oversets Lingard ; a paragraph by which it is clear that the 
 Pope knew of it ; and a curious paper in which, having sworn 
 that he had never written certain letters, which letters were 
 produced when he was taxed with the false oath, Garnett 
 boldly justifies himself, and says that they ought not to have 
 questioned him on the subject, having the letters in their hands, 
 and that he had a right to deny what he believed they could 
 not prove a very remarkable exposition of the tenets of his 
 order and the doctrines of equivocation. 
 
 February nth. A ridiculous thing happened the other 
 day in the Vice-chancellor's Court. Sugden had taken a brjef 
 on each side of a case without knowing it. Home, who 
 opened on one side and was followed by another lawyer, was 
 to be answered by Sugden ; but he, having got hold of the 
 wrong brief, spoke the same way as Home. The Vice-chan- 
 cellor said coolly, " Mr. Sugden is with you?" " Sir," said 
 Home, " his argument is with us, but he is engaged on the 
 other side." Finding himself in a scrape, he said "it was 
 true he held a brief for the other party, but for no client would 
 he ever argue against what he knew to be a clear rule of law." 
 However, the court decided against them all. 
 
 March zd. Saw M yesterday ; he has been at Wind- 
 sor for several days, and confirmed all that I had heard be- 
 fore about the King. The Duke of Cumberland has worked 
 him into a state of frenzy, and he talks of nothing but the 
 
 Catholic question in the most violent strain. M told me 
 
 that his Majesty desired him to tell his household that he 
 
 wished them to vote against the bill, which M of course 
 
 refused to do. I asked him if he had told the Duke of Wel- 
 lington this ; he said he had not, but that the day the minis- 
 ters came to Windsor for the council (Thursday last, I think) 
 he did speak to Peel, and told him the King's violence was 
 quite alarming. Peel said he was afraid the King was greatly 
 excited, or something to this effect, but seemed embarrassed
 
 64 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1829. 
 
 and not very willing to talk about it. The result, however, 
 was that the Duke went to him on Friday, and was with him 
 six hours, and spoke to his Majesty so seriously and so firmly 
 that he will now be quiet. Why the Duke does not insist 
 upon his not seeing the Duke of Cumberland I cannot imag- 
 ine. There never was such a man, or behavior so atrocious 
 as his a mixture of narrow-mindedness, selfishness, truck- 
 ling, blustering, and duplicity, with no object but self, his own 
 ease, and the gratification of his own fancies and prejudices, 
 without regard to the advice and opinion of the wisest and 
 best informed men or to the interests and tranquillity of the 
 country. 
 
 March 4///. The correspondence between the Duke of 
 Wellington and the Duke of Cumberland was pretty violent, I 
 believe, but the Duke of Cumberland misrepresents what 
 passed both in it and at their interview. He declared to the 
 Duke that he would not interfere in any manner, but refused 
 to leave the country ; to Madame de Lieven he said that the 
 Duke had tried everything entreaties, threats, and bribes 
 but that he had told him he would not go away, and would do 
 all he could to defeat his measures, and that if he were to 
 offer him ioo,ooo/. to go to Calais he would not take it. The 
 degree of agitation, alternate hopes and fears, and excitement 
 of every kind, cannot be conceived unless seen and mixed in 
 as I see and mix in it. Spring Rice said last night he 
 thought these next four days to come would be the most im- 
 portant in the history of the country of any for ages past, and 
 so they are. I was told last night that Knighton has been co- 
 operating with the Duke of Cumberland, and done a great 
 deal of mischief, and that he has reason to think that K. is in- 
 triguing deeply, with the design of expelling the Conyngham 
 family from Windsor. This I do not believe, and it seems 
 quite inconsistent with what I am also told that the King's 
 dislike of Knighton, and his desire of -getting rid of him is 
 just the same, and that no day passes that he does not offer 
 Mount Charles Knighton's place, and, what is more, that 
 Knighton presses him to take it.
 
 1 829. 1 LIFE OP GEORGE IV. e 65 
 
 March \gth. ijth. I received a message from the King, 
 to tell me that he was sorry I had not dined with him the last 
 time I was at Windsor, that he had intended to ask me, but 
 finding that all the ministers dined there except Ellenbor- 
 ough, he had let me go, that Ellenborough might not be the 
 only man not invited, and " he would be damned if Ellenbor- 
 ough ever should dine in his house." I asked Lord Bathurst 
 afterwards, to whom I told this, why he hated Ellenborough, 
 and he said that something he had said during the Queen's 
 trial had given the King mortal offense, and he never forgave 
 it. The King complains that he is tired to death of all the 
 people about him. He is less violent about the Catholic ques- 
 tion, tired of that too, and does not wish to hear any more 
 about it. He leads a most extraordinary life never gets up 
 till six in the afternoon. They come to him and open the 
 window curtains at six or seven o'clock in the morning ; he 
 breakfasts in bed, does whatever business he can be brought 
 to transact in bed too, he reads every newspaper quite 
 through, dozes three or four hours, gets up in time for dinner, 
 and goes to bed between ten and eleven. He sleeps very ill, 
 and rings his bell forty times in the night ; if he wants to 
 know the hour, though a watch hangs close to him, he will 
 have his valet de chambre down rather than turn his head to 
 look at it. The same thing if he wants a glass of water ; he 
 won't stretch out his hand to get it. His valets are nearly de- 
 stroyed, and at last Lady Conyngham prevailed on him to 
 agree to an arrangement by which they wait on him on alter- 
 nate days. The service is still most severe, as on the days 
 they are in waiting their labors are incessant, and they cannot 
 take off their clothes at night, and hardly lie down. He is 
 in good health, but irritable, and has been horribly annoyed 
 by other matters besides the Catholic affair. 
 
 i8/^. I was at Windsor for the council and the recorder's 
 report. We waited above two hours ; of course his Majesty 
 did not get up till we were all there. A small attendance in 
 council the Duke, Bathurst, Aberdeen, Melville, and I think 
 no other Cabinet Minister. I sent for Batchelor, the King's 
 5
 
 66 THE GKEl'ILI E .MEMOIRS. [1829. 
 
 valet de chambre, and had a pretty long conversation with 
 him ; he talked as if the walls had ears, but was anxious to 
 tell me everything. He confirmed all I had before heard of 
 the King's life, and said he was nearly dead of it, that he was 
 in high favor, and the King had given him apartments in the 
 Lodge and some presents. His Majesty has been worried to 
 death, and has not yet made up his mind to the Catholic bill 
 (this man knows, I'll be bound). But what he most dwelt on 
 was Sir William Knighton. I said to him that the King was 
 afraid of the Duke. He replied he thought not ; he thought 
 he was afraid of nobody but of Knighton, that he hated him, 
 but that his influence and authority were without any limit, 
 that he could do anything, and without him nothing could be 
 done ; that after him Lady Conyngham was all-powerful but 
 in entire subserviency to him ; that she did not dare have 
 anybody to dine there without previously ascertaining that 
 Knighton would not disapprove of it ; that he knew every- 
 thing, and nobody dared say or do a thing of any sort without 
 his permission. There was a sort of mysterious awe with 
 which he spoke of Knighton, mixed with dislike, which was 
 curious. He is to call on me when he comes to London, and 
 will, I dare say, tell me more. 
 
 March list, at night. This morning the Duke fought a 
 duel with Lord Winchelsea. Nothing could equal the aston- 
 ishment caused by this event. Everybody of course sees the 
 matter in a different light ; all blame Lord W., but they are 
 divided as to whether the Duke ought to have fought or not. 
 Lord W.'s letter appeared last Monday, and certainly from 
 that time to this it never entered into anybody's head that the 
 Duke ought to or would take it up, though the expressions in 
 it were very impertinent. But Lord Winchelsea is such a 
 maniac, and has so lost his head (besides the ludicrous inci- 
 dent of the handkerchief 1 ), that everybody imagined the Duke 
 would treat what he said with silent contempt. He thought 
 otherwise, however, and without saying a word to any of his 
 colleagues or to anybody but Hardinge, his second, he wrote 
 
 * The insident of the handkerchief is related farther on.
 
 1829.] LORD WELLINGTON'S DUEL. 67 
 
 and demanded an apology. After many letters and messages 
 between the parties (Lord Falmouth being Lord Winchelsea's 
 second), Lord Winchelsea declined making any apology, and 
 they met. The letters on the Duke's part are very creditable, 
 so free from arrogance or an assuming tone ; those on Lord 
 Winchelsea's not so, for one of them is a senseless repetition 
 of the offense, in which he says that if the Duke will deny 
 that his allegations are true he will apologize. They met at 
 Wimbledon at eight o'clock. There were many people about, 
 who saw what passed. They stood at a distance of fifteen 
 paces. Before they began Hardinge went up to Lords Win- 
 chelsea and Falmouth, and said he must protest against the 
 proceeding, and declare that their conduct in refusing an 
 apology when Lord Winchelsea was so much in the wrong 
 filled him with disgust. The Duke fired and missed, and 
 then Winchelsea fired in the air. He immediately pulled out 
 of his pocket the paper which has since appeared, but in which 
 the word " apology " was omitted. The Duke read it and 
 said it would not do. Lord Falmouth said he was not come 
 there to quibble about words, and that he was ready to make 
 the apology in whatever terms would be satisfactory, and the 
 word " apology " was inserted on the ground. The Duke then 
 touched his hat, said " Good morning, my lords," mounted 
 his horse, and rode off. Hume was there, without knowing 
 on whose behalf till he got to the ground. Hardinge asked 
 him to attend, and told him where he would find a chaise, into 
 which he got. He found there pistols, which told him the 
 errand he was on, but he had still no notion the Duke was 
 concerned ; when he saw him he was ready to drop. The 
 Duke went to Mrs. Arbuthnot's as soon as he got back, and at 
 eleven o'clock she wrote a note to Lord Bathurst, telling him 
 of it, which he received at the council board and put into my 
 hands. So little idea had he of Lord Winchelsea's letter lead- 
 ing to anything serious that when on Wednesday, at the 
 council at Windsor, I asked him if he had read it, he said, 
 laughing, " Yes, and it is a very clever letter, much the wisest 
 thing he ever did ; he has got back his money. I wish I could
 
 68 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1829. 
 
 find some such pretext to get back mine." At twelve o'clock 
 the Duke went to Windsor to tell the king what had happened. 
 Winchelsea is abused for not having made an apology when 
 it was first required ; but I think, having committed the folly 
 of writing so outrageous a letter, he did the only thing a man 
 of honor could do in going out and receiving a shot and then 
 making an apology, which he was all this time prepared to do, 
 for he had it ready written in his pocket. I think the Duke 
 ought not to have challenged him ; it was very juvenile, and 
 he stands in far too high a position, and his life is so much 
 publica euro, that he should have treated him and his letter 
 with the contempt they merited ; it was a great error in judg- 
 ment, but certainly a venial one, for it is impossible not to 
 admire the high spirit which disdained to shelter itself behind 
 the immunities of his great character and station, and the 
 simplicity, and almost humility, which made him at once de- 
 scend to the level of Lord Wincheslea, when he might, without 
 subjecting himself to any imputation derogatory to his honor, 
 have assumed a tone of lofty superiority and treated him as 
 unworthy of his notice. Still it was beneath his dignity ; it 
 lowered him, and was more or less ridiculous. Lord Jersey 
 met him coming from Windsor, and spoke to him. He said, 
 " I could not do otherwise, could I ? " 
 
 March 26th. Everything is getting on very quietly in the 
 House of Commons, and the opposition are beginning to 
 squabble among themselves, some wishing to create delay, 
 and others not choosing to join in these tricks, when they 
 know it is useless. The Duke came here the night before 
 last, but I was not at home. He talked over the whole matter 
 with his usual simplicity. The King, it seems, was highly 
 pleased with the Winchelsea affair, and he said, " I did not 
 see the. letter (which is probably a lie) ; if I had, I certainly 
 should have thought it my duty to call your attention to it." 
 Somebody added that " he would be wanting to fight a duel 
 himself." Sefton said, " He will be sure to think he has 
 fought one." Hume gave the two lords a lecture on the 
 ground after the duel, and said he did not think there was a
 
 1829.] LORD WINCHELSEA. 69 
 
 man in England who would have lifted his hand against the 
 Duke. Very uncalled for, but the Duke's friends have less 
 humility than he has, for Lord Winchelsea did not lift his 
 hand against him. 
 
 March ityh. I have, I see, alluded to Lord Winchelsea's 
 handkerchief story, 1 but have not mentioned the circum- 
 stances, which I may as well do. Lord Holland came home 
 one night from the House of Lords, and as soon as he had 
 occasion to blow his nose pulled his handkerchief out of his 
 pocket ; upon which my lady exclaimed (she hates perfumes), 
 "Good God, Lord H., where did you get that handkerchief? 
 Send it away directly." He said he did not know, when it 
 was inspected, and the letter W found on it. Lord H. said, 
 " I was sitting near Lord Winchelsea, and it must be his, 
 which I took up by mistake and have brought home." Accord- 
 ingly the next day he sent it to Lord Winchelsea with his 
 compliments. Lord Winchelsea receiving the handkerchief 
 and the message, and finding it marked IV, fancied it was the 
 Duke's, and that it was sent to him by way of affronting him ; 
 on which he went to the Duke of Newcastle and imparted to 
 him the circumstances, and desired him to wait on Lord Hol- 
 land for an explanation. This his Grace did, when the mat- 
 ter was cleared up and the handkerchief was found to be the 
 property of Lord Wellesley. The next day Lord Winchelsea 
 came up laughing to Lord Holland in the House of Lords, 
 and said he had many apologies to make for what had passed, 
 but that he really was in such a state of excitement he did not 
 know what he said and did. 2 
 
 April 8t/i. Lady Jersey is in a fury with Lord Anglesey, 
 and goes about saying he insulted her in the House of Lords 
 the other night. She was sitting on one of the steps of the 
 throne, and the Duchess of Richmond on the step above. 
 After Lord Anglesey had spoken he came to talk to the 
 
 1 Supra, p. 66. 
 
 2 Lord Winchelsea was in the habit of flourishing a white pocket handkerchief 
 while he was speaking in the House of Lords. This peculiarity, associated with his 
 sonorous tones, his excited action, and his extravagant opinions, gave point to the 
 incident.
 
 7O THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1829. 
 
 Duchess, who said, " How well you did speak ; " on which he 
 said, " Hush ! you must take care what you say, for here is 
 Lady Jersey, and she reports for the newspapers ; " on which 
 Lady Jersey said very angrily, " Lady Jersey is here for her 
 own amusement ; what do you mean by reporting for news- 
 papers ? " to which he replied with a profound bow, " I beg 
 your ladyship's pardon ; I did not mean to offend you, and if 
 I did I beg to make the most ample apology." This is his 
 version ; hers, of course, is different. He says that he meant 
 the whole thing as a joke. It was a very bad joke if it was 
 one, and as he knows how she abuses him one may suspect 
 that there was something more than joking in it. 
 
 The other night Lord Grey had called Lord Falmouth to 
 order, and after the debate Falmouth came up to him with a 
 menacing air and said, " My Lord Grey, I wish to inform you 
 that if upon any future occasion you transgress in the slightest 
 degree the orders of the House, I shall most certainly call you 
 to order." Lord Grey, who expected from his air something 
 more hostile, merely said, " My lord, your lordship will do 
 perfectly right, and whenever I am out of order I hope you 
 will." 
 
 April I3/-&. After the Old Bailey I went and dined at the 
 Covent Garden Theatrical Fund dinner. The Duke of Clar- 
 ence could not come, so they put Lord Blessington in the 
 chair, who made an ass of himself. Among other toasts he 
 was to give " The memory of the Duke of York," who was 
 the founder of the institution. He prefaced this with a speech, 
 but gave " The health," etc., on which Fawcett, who sat oppo- 
 site, called out in an agony, " The memory, my lord ! " He 
 corrected himself, but in a minute after said again, " The 
 health." " The memory, my lord ! " again roared Fawcett. It 
 was supremely ridiculous. 
 
 May \^th. I have been at Newmarket for three weeks, 
 and have had no time to write, nor has anything particular oc- 
 curred. The King came to town, and had a levee and draw- 
 ing-room, the former of which was very numerously, the other 
 shabbily attended. At the levee he was remarkably civil to
 
 1829.] HEALTH OF GEORGE IV. 71 
 
 all the peers, particularly the Duke of Richmond, who had 
 distinguished themselves in opposition to government in the 
 late debates, and he turned his back on the bishops who had 
 voted for the bill. O'Connell and Shiel were both at the 
 levee ; the former had been presented in Ireland, so had not 
 to be presented again, but the King took no notice of him, and 
 when he went by said to somebody near him, " Damn the fel- 
 low ! what does he come here for ? " dignified. 
 
 There was an odd circumstance the day of the drawing- 
 room. The Duke of Cumberland, as gold stick, gave orders 
 at the Horse Guards that no carriages should be admitted 
 into the Park, and Peel and the Duke of Wellington, when 
 they presented themselves on their way to court, were refused 
 admission. The officer on guard came to the Duke's carriage 
 and said that such were his orders, but that he was sure they 
 were not meant to extend to his Grace, and if he would author- 
 ize him he would order the gates to be opened. The Duke 
 said, " By no means," and then desired his carriage to go 
 round the other way. Many people thought that this was a 
 piece of impertinence of the Duke of Cumberland's, but the 
 Duke says that the whole thing was a mistake. Be this as it 
 may, the Duke of Cumberland and the Duke of Wellington do 
 not speak, and whenever they meet, which often happens in 
 society, the former moves off. 
 
 Yesterday morning Batchelor called on me, and sat with me 
 for an hour telling me all sorts of details concerning the in- 
 terior of Windsor and St. James's. The King is well in 
 health, except that since last September he has been afflicted 
 with a complaint in his bladder, which both annoys and alarms 
 him very much. There is no appearance of stone or gravel, 
 but violent irritation, which is only subdued by laudanum, and 
 always returns when the effect of the opiate is gone off. The 
 laudanum, too, disagrees much with his general health. He 
 is attended by Sir Henry Holland, Brodie, and O'Reilly. 
 Sir A. Cooper, who did attend him, is not now consulted, in 
 consequence (Batchelor thinks) of some petty intrigue in some
 
 72 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. I '829. 
 
 quarter. This O'Reilly, who has gradually insinuated himself 
 into the King's confidence, and by constantly attending him 
 at Windsor, and bringing him all the gossip and tittle-tattle of 
 the neighborhood (being on the alert to pick up and retail all 
 he can for the King's amusement), has made himself neces- 
 sary, and is not now to be shaken off, to the great annoyance 
 of Knighton, who cannot bear him, as well as of all the other 
 people about the King, who hate him for his meddling, mis- 
 chievous character. The King's valets de chambre sit up 
 alternately, and as he sleeps very ill he rings his bell every 
 half hour. He talks of everybody and everything before his 
 valets with great freedom, except of politics, on which he 
 never utters a word in their presence, and he always sends 
 them away when he sees anybody or speaks on business of 
 any kind. Batchelor thinks that this new disorder is a symp- 
 tom of approaching decay, and that the King thinks so him- 
 self. 
 
 In the mean time the influence of Knighton and that of Lady 
 Conynham continue as great as ever ; nothing can be done 
 but by their permission, and they understand one another and 
 play into each other's hands. Knighton opposes every kind 
 of expense, except that which is lavished on her. The wealth 
 she has accumulated by savings and presents must be enor- 
 mous. The King continues to heap all kinds of presents upon 
 her, and she lives at his expense ; they do not possess a ser- 
 vant; even Lord Conyngham's valet de chambre \s not properly 
 their servant. They all have situations in the King's house- 
 hold, from which they receive their .pay, while they continue 
 in the service of the Conynghams. They dine every day 
 while in London at St. James's, and when they give a dinner 
 it is cooked at St. James's and brought up to Hamilton Place 
 in hackney coaches and in machines made expressly for the 
 purpose ; there is merely a fire lit in their kitchen for such 
 things as must be heated on the spot. At Windsor the King 
 sees very little of her except of an evening ; he lies in bed 
 half the day or more, sometimes goes out, and sometimes goes
 
 1829.] PRINCESS VICTORIA. 73 
 
 to her room for an hour or so in the afternoon, and that is all 
 he sees of her. A more despicable scene cannot be exhibited 
 than that which the interior of our court presents ever}' 
 base, low, and unmanly propensity, with selfishness, avarice, 
 and a life of petty intrigue and mystery. 
 
 May 29/7?. Yesterday the King gave a dinner to the Dukes 
 of Orleans and Chartres, and in the evening there was a child's 
 ball. It was pretty enough, and I saw for the first time the 
 Queen of Portugal ' and our little Victoria. The Queen was 
 finely dressed, with a ribbon and order over her shoulder, and 
 she sat by the King. She is good looking and has a sensible 
 Austrian countenance. In dancing she fell down and hurt 
 her face, was frightened and bruised, and went away. The 
 King was very kind to her. Our little Princess is a short, 
 plain looking child, and not near so good looking as the Por- 
 tuguese. However, if nature has not done so much, fortune 
 is likely to do a great deal more for her. The King looked 
 very well, and stayed at the ball till two. There were very 
 few people, and neither Arbuthnot nor Mrs. A. were asked. 
 I suspect this is owing to what passed in the House about 
 opening the Birdcage Walk. It puts the King in a fury to have 
 any such thing mentioned, not having the slightest wish to ac- 
 commodate the public though very desirous of getting money 
 out of their pockets. 
 
 The day before yesterday there was a review for the Duke 
 of Orleans, and the Marquis of Anglesey, who was there at 
 the head of his regiment, contrived to get a tumble, but was 
 not hurt. Last night at the ball the King said to Lord An- 
 glesey, " Why Paget, what 's this I hear ? they say you rolled 
 off your horse at the review yesterday." The Duke as he 
 left the ground was immensely cheered, and the people 
 thronged about his horse and would shake hands with him. 
 When Lord Hill went to the King the day before to give him 
 
 1 Donna Maria II. da Gloria, Queen of Portugal, on the abdication of her father, 
 Don Pedro, succeeded to the throne on the 2d of May, 1826. She was born on the 
 4th of April, 1819, and was consequently but a few weeks older than the Princes* 
 Victoria.
 
 74 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1829. 
 
 an account of the intended review and the dispositions that 
 had been made, he said, " Hill, if I can throw my leg over 
 your Shropshire horse, don't be surprised if you see me 
 amongst you." 
 
 June nth. Yesterday the King had his racing dinner, 
 which was more numerously attended and just as magnificent 
 as that he gave last year, but not half so gay and joyous. I 
 believe he had some gouty feeling and was in pain, for, con- 
 trary to his usual custom, he hardly spoke, and the Duke of 
 Richmond, who sat next to him, told me that the little he did 
 say was more about politics than the turf, and he fancied that 
 something had annoyed him. He looked well enough, and 
 was very cheerful before dinner. When his health was drunk 
 " as Patron of the Jockey Club, and many thanks to him for 
 condescending to accept that title," he made a speech, in 
 which he said that " he was much gratified by our kindness, 
 and he could assure us that in withdrawing himself as he had 
 done from the Jockey Club he was not inflenced by any un- 
 kindness to any member of it, or any indifference to the in- 
 terests of the turf." 
 
 June 2^th. Went to Stoke for the Ascot races. There 
 was such a crowd to see the cup run for as never was seen 
 before. The King was very anxious and disappointed. I 
 bought the winner for Chesterfield i two hours before the race, 
 he having previously asked the King's leave, which he gave 
 with many gracious expressions. I have set about making a 
 reconciliation between the King and Lord Sefton. Both are 
 anxious to make it up, but each is afraid to make the first ad- 
 vances. However, Sefton must make them, and he will. The 
 cause of their quarrel is very old, and signifies little enough 
 
 now They have been at daggers drawn ever since, and 
 
 Sefton has revenged himself by a thousand jokes at the King's 
 expense, of which his Majesty is well aware. Their common 
 
 1 George Augustus, sixth Earl of Chesterfield, born in 1805, died in 1866. He mar- 
 ried in 1830 Anne, dnugher of Lord Forester. In 1829 he was one of the most brilliant 
 of the young men of fashion of that day, having succeeded to a large rental and large 
 accumulations in his minority.
 
 1829.] LOVELY THAIS. 75 
 
 pursuit, and a desire on the one side to partake of the good 
 things of the Palace, and on the other side to be free from 
 future pleasantries, has generated a mutual disposition to make 
 it up, which is certainly sensible. The King has bought seven 
 horses successively, for which he has given 11,300 guineas, 
 principally to win the cup at Ascot, which he has never ac- 
 complished. He might have had Zinganee, but would not, 
 because he fancied the Colonel would beat him ; but when 
 that appeared doubtful he was very sorry not to have bought 
 him, and complained that the horse was not offered to him. 
 He is now extravagantly fond of Chesterfield, who is pretty 
 well bit by it. There is always a parcel of eldest sons and 
 lords in possession invited to the Cottage for the sake of 
 Lady Maria Conyngham. The King likes to be treated with 
 great deference but without fear, and that people should be 
 easy with him, and gay, and listen well. There was a grand 
 consultation at the Cottage between the King, Lieven, Es- 
 terhazy, and the Duke of Cumberland, as to the way in which 
 the ladies should be placed at dinner, the object being that 
 Lady Conyngham should sit next to his Majesty, though ac- 
 cording to etiquette the two ambassadresses should sit one 
 on each side of him. It was contrived by the Duke of Cum- 
 berland taking out one of them and sitting opposite, by which 
 means the lovely Thais sat beside him and he was happy. 
 
 July loth. I dined with the Duke of Wellington yester- 
 day ; a very large party for Mesdames the Duchesse d'Escars 
 and Madame du Cayla ; the first is the widow of the Due 
 d'Escars, who vt^s premier maitre d^hotel of Louis XVIII. 
 and who was said to have died of one of the King's good din- 
 ners, and the joke was, " Hier so. Majeste a eu tine indigestion, 
 dont M. le Due d'Escars est mort." Madame du Cayla 1 is 
 
 1 Madame du Cayla had been the soi-disant mistress of Louis XVI II., or rather the 
 favorite of his declining years. " Ilfallait tine Esther" to use her own expression, 
 " a cet Assutrus," She was the daughter of M. Talon, brought up by Madame 
 Campan, and an early friend of Hortense Beauharnais. Her marriage to an officer in 
 the Prince de Condi's army was an unhappy one ; and she was left, deserted by her 
 husband, in straitened circumstances. After the assassination of the Due de Berry, 
 M. de la Rochefoucauld, one of the leaders of the ultra-Royalist party, contrived to
 
 76 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1829. 
 
 come over to prosecute some claim upon this government, 
 which the Duke has discovered to be unfounded, and he had 
 the bluntness to tell her so as they were going to dinner. 
 She must have been good-looking in her youth ; her counte- 
 nance is lively, her eyes are piercing, clear complexion, and 
 very handsome hands and arms ; but the best part about her 
 seemed to be the magnificent pearls she wore, though these 
 are not so fine as Lady Conyngham's. All kings' mistresses 
 seem to have a rage for pearls ; I remember Madame Narisch- 
 kin's were splendid. Madame du Cayla is said to be very 
 rich and clever. 
 
 After dinner the Duke talked to me for a long time about 
 the King and the Duke of Cumberland, and his quarrel with 
 the latter. He began about the King's making Lord Aberdeen 
 stay at the Cottage the other day when he had engaged all the 
 foreign ambassadors to dine with him in London. Aberdeen 
 represented this to him, but his Majesty said, " it did not mat- 
 throw her in the way of Louis XVIII., in the hope of counteracting the more liberal 
 influence which M. de Gazes had acquired over the King. Madame du Cayla be- 
 came the hope and the mainstay of the altar and the throne. The scheme succeeded. 
 The King was touched by her grace and beauty, and she became indispensable to his 
 happiness. His happiness was said to consist in inhaling a pinch of snuff from her 
 shoulders, which were remarkably broad and fair. M. de Lamartine has related the 
 romance of her life in the thirty-eighth book of his ffistoire de la. Restauration, 
 and BeYanger satirized her in the bitterest of his songs that which bears the name- 
 of " Octavie " : 
 
 " Sur les coussins ou la douleur 1'enchaine 
 
 Quel mal, dis-tu, vous fait ce roi des rois ? 
 Vois-le d'un masque enjoliver sa haine 
 Pour etouffer notre gloire et nos lois. 
 
 " Vois ce cceur faux, que cherchent tes caresses, 
 
 De tous les siens n'aimer que ses aieux ; 
 Charger de fer les muses vengeresses, 
 Et par ses mceurs nous re've'ler ses dieux. 
 
 " Peins-nous ces feux, qu r en secret tu redoutes, 
 
 Quand sur ton sein il cuve son nectar, 
 Ces feux dont s'indignaient les voutes 
 Ou plajie encor 1'aigle du grand Ce"sar." 
 
 It is curious that in 1829 the last mistress of a king of France should have visited 
 London under the reign of the last mistress of a king of England.
 
 1829.] INACCURACY OF GEORGE II'. fj 
 
 ter, he should stay, and the ambassadors should for once see 
 that he was king of England." " He has no idea," said the 
 Duke, "of what a king of England ought to do, or he would 
 have known that he ought to have made Aberdeen go and 
 receive them, instead of keeping him there." He said the 
 king was very clever and amusing, but that with a surprising 
 memory he was very inaccurate, and constantly told stories 
 the details of which all his auditors must know to be false. 
 One day he was talking of the late King, and asserted that 
 George III. had said to himself, "Of all the men I have ever 
 known, you are the one on whom I have the greatest depend- 
 ence, and you are the most perfect gentleman." Another day 
 he said "that he recollected the old Lord Chesterfield, who 
 once said to him, ' Sir, you are the fourth Prince of Wales I 
 have known, and I must give your Royal Highness one piece 
 of advice : stick to your father ; as long as you adhere to your 
 father you will be a great and a happy man, but if you sepa- 
 rate yourself from him you will be nothing and an unhappy 
 one ; ' and, by God (added the King), I never forgot that ad- 
 vice, and acted upon it all my life." " We all," said the Duke, 
 " looked at one another with astonishment. He is extremely 
 clever and particularly ingenious in turning the conversation 
 from any subject he does not like to discuss. 
 
 " I," added the Duke of Wellington, " remember calling 
 upon him the day he received the news of the battle of Nava- 
 rino. I was not a minister, but commander-in-chief, and after 
 having told me the news he asked me what I thought of it. 
 I said that I knew nothing about it, was ignorant of the in- 
 structions that had been given to the admiral, and could not 
 give any opinion ; but ' one thing is clear to me, that your 
 Majesty's ships have suffered very much, and that you ought 
 to reinforce your fleet directly, for whenever you have a mari- 
 time force yours ought to be superior to all others.' This 
 advice he did not like ; I saw this, and he said, ' Oh, the Em- 
 peror of Russia is a man of honor,' and then he began talking, 
 and went on to Venice, Toulon, St. Petersburg, all over the 
 Continent, and from one place and one- subject to another, till
 
 78 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS [1829 
 
 he brought me to Windsor Castle. I make it a rule never to 
 interrupt him, and when in this way he tries to get rid of a 
 subject in the way of business which he does not like, I let 
 him talk himself out, and then quietly put before him the mat- 
 ter in question, so that he cannot escape from it. I remember 
 when the Duke of Newcastle was going to Windsor with a 
 mob at his heels to present a petition (during the late discus- 
 sions), I went down to him and showed him the petition, and 
 told him they ought to be prevented from coming. He went 
 off and talked upon every subject but that which I had come 
 about, for an hour and a half. I let him go on till he was 
 tired, and then I said, ' But the petition, sir ; here it is, and 
 an answer must be sent. I had better write to the Duke of 
 Newcastle and tell him your Majesty will receive it through 
 the Secretary of State ; and, if you please, I will write the 
 letter before I leave the house.' This I did, finished my 
 business in five minutes, and went away with the letter in my 
 pocket. I know him so well that I can deal with him easily, 
 but anybody who does not know him, and who is afraid of him, 
 would have the greatest difficulty in getting on with him. 
 One extraordinary peculiarity about him is, that the only thing 
 he fears is ridicule. He is afraid of nothing which is hazard- 
 ous, perilous, or uncertain ; on the contrary, he is all for brav- 
 ing difficulties ; but he dreads ridicule, and this is the reason 
 why the Duke of Cumberland, whose sarcasms he dreads, has 
 such power over him, and Lord Anglesey likewise ; both of 
 them he hates in proportion as he fears them." I said I was 
 very much surprised to hear this, as neither of these men were 
 wits, or likely to make him ridiculous ; that if he had been 
 afraid of Sefton or Alvanley it could have been understood. 
 " But," rejoined the Duke, "he never sees these men, and he 
 does not mind anybody he does not see ; but the Duke of 
 Cumberland and Lord Anglesey he cannot avoid seeing, and 
 the fear he has of what they may say to him, as well as of 
 him, keeps him in awe of them. No man, however, knows 
 the Duke of Cumberland better than he does ; indeed, all I 
 know of the Duke of Cumberland I know from him, and so I
 
 1829.] DUKE OF CUMBERLAND. 79 
 
 told him one day. I remember asking him why the Duke of 
 Cumberland was so unpopular, and he said, ' Because there 
 never was a father well with his son, or husband with his wife, 
 or lover with his mistress, or a friend with his friend, that he 
 did not try to make mischief between them.' And yet he suf- 
 fers this man to have constant access to him, to say what he 
 will to him, and often acts under his influence." I said, "You 
 and the Duke of Cumberland speak now, don't you ? " " Yes, 
 we speak. The King spoke to me about it, and wanted me 
 to make him an apology. I told him it was quite impossible, 
 'Why,' said he, 'you did not mean to offend the Duke of Cum- 
 berland, I am sure.' ' No, sir,' said I ; ' I did not wish to 
 offend him, but I did not say a word that I did not mean. 
 When we meet the royal family in society, they are our 
 superiors, and we owe them all respect, and I should readily 
 apologize for anything I might have said offensive to the 
 Duke ; but in the House of Lords we are their peers, and for 
 what I say there I am responsible to the House alone.' ' But,' 
 said the King, ' he said you turned on him as if you meant to 
 address yourself to him personally.' ' I did mean it, sir,' said 
 I, ' and I did so because I knew that he had been here, that 
 he had heard things from your Majesty which he had gone 
 and misrepresented and misstated in other quarters, and 
 knowing that, I meant to show him that I was aware of it. 
 I am sorry that the Duke is offended, but I cannot help it, and 
 I cannot make him an apology.' " 
 
 The Duke went on, " I was so afraid he would tell the Duke 
 that I was sorry for what I had said, that I repeated to him 
 when I went away, ' Now, sir, remember that I will not apolo- 
 gize to the Duke, and I hope your Majesty will therefore not 
 convey any such idea to his mind.' However, he spoke to 
 him, I suppose, for the next time I met the Duke he oowed 
 to me. I immediately called on him, but he did not return my 
 visit. On a subsequent occasion [I forget what he said it was] 
 I called on him again, and he returned my visit the same day." 
 
 The Duke then talked of the letter which the Duke of Cum- 
 berland had just written (as Grand Master of the Orange
 
 80 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1829. 
 
 Lodges) to Enniskillen, which he thought was published with 
 the most mischievous intentions. However, he said, " I know 
 not what he is at, but while I am conscious of going on in a 
 straightforward manner I am not afraid of him, or of anything 
 he can do," which I was surprised to hear, because it looked 
 as if he was afraid of him. I asked him whether, with all the 
 cleverness he thought belonged to the King, he evinced great 
 acuteness in discussing matters of business, to which he re- 
 plied, " Oh, no, not at all, the worst judgment that can be." 
 This was not the first time I had heard the Duke's opinion of 
 the King. I remember him saying something to the Duke of 
 Portland about him during the Queen's trial indicative of his 
 contempt for him- 
 
 July 2ist. The Duke of Cumberland is doing all he can 
 to set the King against the Duke ; he always calls him " King 
 Authur," which made the King very angry at first, and he de- 
 sired he would not, but he calls him so still, and the King 
 submits. He never lets any of the royal family see the King 
 alone ; the Duchess of Gloucester complains bitterly of his 
 conduct, and the way in which he thrusts himself in when she 
 is with his Majesty. The other day Count Miinster came to 
 the King, and the Duke of Cumberland was determined he 
 should not have a private audience, and stayed in the room the 
 whole time. He hates Lady Conyngham, and she him. They 
 put about that he has been pressed to stay here by the King, 
 which is not true ; the King would much rather he went away. 
 The Duke of Wellington told me that he one day asked the 
 King when the Duke was going, and he said, " I am sick to 
 death of the subject. I have been told he was going fifty 
 times, but when he goes, or whether he ever goes at all, I have 
 not the least idea." He is now very much provoked because 
 the King will not talk politics with him. His Majesty wants 
 to be quiet, and is tired of all the Duke's violence and his 
 constant attacks. 
 
 August %th. There is a story current about the Duke of 
 Cumberland and Lady Lyndhurst which is more true than 
 most stories of this kind. The Duke called upon her, and
 
 1829.] LADY LYNDHURST. 8 1 
 
 grossly insulted her ; on which, after a scramble, she rang the 
 bell. He was obliged to desist and to go away, but before he 
 did he said, " By God, madam, I will be the ruin of you and 
 your husband, and will not rest till I have destroyed you 
 both." 
 
 August i8M. Last Saturday I came back from Goodwood, 
 and called on Lady Jersey, whom I found very curious about 
 a correspondence which she told me had taken place between 
 the Duke of Cumberland and the Chancellor relative to a par- 
 agraph which had appeared in the " Age," stating that his 
 Royal Highness had been turned out of Lady Lyndhurst's 
 house in consequence of having insulted her in it. She said 
 she was very anxious to see the letter, for she heard that the 
 Duke had much the besi of it, and that the Chancellor's letter 
 was evasive and Jesuitical. The next day I was informed of 
 the details of this affair. I found that the Duke had called 
 upon her, and had been denied ; that he had complained, half 
 in jest and half in earnest, to the Chancellor of her not letting 
 him in ; that on a subsequent day he had called so early that 
 no orders had been given to the porter, and he was let in ; that 
 his manner and his language had been equally brutal and of- 
 fensive ; that he afterwards went off upon politics, and abused 
 the whole administration, and particularly the Chancellor, and 
 after staying two or three hours, insulting and offending her in 
 every way, he took himself off. Soon after he met her some- 
 where in the evening, when he attacked her again. She 
 treated him with all possible indignation, and would have 
 nothing to say to him. 
 
 Yesterday I met the Chancellor at the Castle at a council. 
 He took me aside, and said that he wished to tell me what had 
 passed, and to show me the correspondence. He then began, 
 and said that after the Duke's visit Lady L. had told the Chan- 
 cellor of his abuse of him and the government, but had sup- 
 pressed the rest, thinking it was better not to tell him, as it 
 would put him in a very embarrassing position, and contenting 
 herself with saying she would never receive the Duke again 
 upon the other grounds, which were quite sufficient : but that 
 6
 
 82 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS [1829. 
 
 some time after reports reached her from various quarters 
 (Lord Grey, Lord Durham, Lord Dudley, and several others), 
 that the Duke went about talking of her in the most gross and 
 impertinent manner. Upon hearing this, she thought it right 
 to tell the Chancellor the other part of his conduct, which she 
 had hitherto concealed, and this she did in general terms, 
 namely, that he had been very insolent and made an attack 
 upon her. The Chancellor was exceedingly incensed, but he 
 said after much consideration he thought it better to let the 
 matter drop ; a long time had elapsed since the offense was 
 committed ; all communication had ceased between all the 
 parties ; and he felt the ridicule and inconvenience of putting 
 himself (holding the high office he did) in personal collision 
 with a royal duke, besides the announce which it would be 
 to Lady Lyndhurst to become publicly the subject of such a 
 quarrel. There, then, he let the matter rest, but about a fort- 
 night ago he received a letter from the Duke inclosing a 
 newspaper to this effect (as well as I can recollect it, for I wa; 
 obliged to read the letter in such a hurried way that I coulr 
 not bring the exact contents away with me, though I am sun 
 I do not err in stating their sense) : 
 
 " MY LORD, I think it necessary to inclose to your lord 
 ship a newspaper containing a paragraph which I havt 
 marked, and which relates to a pretended transaction in you 
 lordship's house. I think it necessary and proper to contra 
 diet this statement, which I need not say is a gross falsehood 
 and I wish, therefore, to have the authority of Lady Lynd 
 hurst for contradicting it. 
 
 " I am, my lord, yours sincerely, 
 
 " ERNEST." 
 
 This was the sense of the letter, though it was not so 
 worded ; it was civil enough. The Chancellor answered : 
 " The Lord Chancellor with his duty begs to acknowledge the 
 favor of your Royal Highness's letter. The Lord Chancellor 
 had never seen the paragraph to which your Royal Highness 
 alludes, and which he regards with the most perfect indiffer-
 
 1829.] LORD LYND HURST. 83 
 
 ence, considering it as one of that series of calumnies to 
 which Lady Lyndhurst has been for some time exposed from 
 a portion of the press, and which she has at length learnt to 
 regard with the contempt they deserve." He said that he 
 thought it better to let the matter drop, and he wrote this an- 
 swer by way of waiving any discussion on the subject, and 
 that the Duke might contradict the paragraph himself if he 
 chose to do so. To this the Duke wrote again : " My Lord, 
 I have received your lordship's answer, which is not so ex- 
 plicit as I have a right to expect. I repeat again that the 
 statement is false and scandalous, and I have a right to require 
 Lady Lydhurst's sanction to the contradiction which I think 
 it necessary to give to it." This letter was written in a more 
 impertinent style than the other. On the receipt of it the Chan- 
 cellor consulted the Duke of Wellington, and the Duke sug- 
 gested the following answer, which the Chancellor sent : 
 '' The Lord Chancellor has had the honor of receiving your 
 
 Royal Highness's letter of . The Lord Chancellor does 
 
 not conceive it necessary to annoy Lady Lyndhurst by troub- 
 ling her upon the subject, and with what relates to your Royal 
 Highness the Lord Chancellor has no concern whatever ; but 
 with regard to that part which states that your Royal High- 
 ness had been excluded from the Lord Chancellor's house, 
 there could be no question that the respect and grateful at- 
 tachment which both the Chancellor and Lady Lyndhurst felt 
 to their sovereign made it impossible that any brother of that 
 sovereign should ever be turned out of his house." To this 
 the Duke wrote another letter, in a very sneering and imper- 
 tinent tone in the third person, and alluding to the loose re- 
 ports which had been current on the subject, and saying that 
 the Chancellor might have his own reasons for not choosing 
 to speak to Lady Lyndhurst on the subject ; to which the 
 Chancellor replied that " he knew nothing of any loose reports, 
 but that if there were any, in whatever quarter they might 
 have originated, which went to affect the conduct of Lady 
 Lyndhurst in the matter in question, they were most false, 
 foul, and calumnious." So ended the correspondence ; all
 
 84 THE GREVILLE MEMO IKS. [1829. 
 
 these latter expressions were intended to apply to the Duke 
 himself, who is the person who spread the loose reports and 
 told the lies about her. When she first denied him, she told 
 Lord Bathurst of it, who assured her she had done quite 
 right, and that she had better never let him in, for if she did 
 he would surely invent some lies about her. Last Sunday 
 week the Chancellor went down to Windsor, and laid the 
 whole correspondence before the King, who received him very 
 well, and approved of what he had done ; but of course when 
 he saw the Duke of Cumberland and heard his story, he con- 
 curred in all his abuse of the Chancellor. I think the Chan- 
 cellor treated the matter in the best way the case admitted of. 
 Had he taken it up, he must have resigned his office and 
 called the Duke out, and what a mixture of folly and scandal 
 this would have been, and how the woman would have suf- 
 fered in it all ! 
 
 August 22d. The day before yesterday Sir Henry Cooke 
 called on me, and told me that he came on the part of the 
 Duke of Cumberland, who had heard that I had seen the cor- 
 respondence, and that I had given an account of it which was 
 unfavorable to him, that his Royal Highness wished me, 
 therefore, to call on him and hear his statement of the facts. 
 Cooke then entered into the history, and told me that it was 
 he who had originally acquainted the Duke with the reports 
 which were current about him, and had advised him to contra- 
 dict them, but that he had not found any opportunity of taking 
 it up till this paragraph appeared in the " Age " newspaper ; 
 that the Duke had given him an account of what had passed, 
 which was that Lady Lyndhurst had begged him to call upon 
 her, then to dine with her, and upon every occasion had en- 
 couraged him. I heard all he had to say, but declined calling 
 on the Duke. As I wished, however, that there should be no 
 misrepresentation in what I said on the subject, I wrote a let- 
 ter to Cooke, to be laid before the Duke, in which I gave an 
 account of the circumstances under which I had been con- 
 cerned in the business, stating that I had not expressed any 
 opinion of the conduct of the parties, and that I did not wish
 
 1 829.] WIND HAM'S DIARY. 85 
 
 to be in any way mixed up in it. After I had seen Cooke I 
 went to the Chancellor and read my letter to him. I found he 
 had not shown the King the two last letters that had passed ; 
 and as Cooke had told me that the Duke meant to go to 
 Windsor the next day and lay the whole correspondence be- 
 fore the King, the Chancellor immediately sent off a messen- 
 ger with the two letters which the King had not seen. The 
 Chancellor has since circulated the correspondence among his 
 friends, but with rather too undignified a desire to submit his 
 conduct to the judgment of a parcel of people who only laugh 
 at them both, and are amused with the gossip and malice of 
 the thing. 
 
 September ^th. Yesterday I went with Amyot to his 
 house, where he showed me a part of Windham's diary ; there 
 are twenty-eight little volumes of it. begun in 1784, when he 
 was thirty-four years old, and continued irregularly till his 
 death ; it seems to be written very freely and familiarly, and 
 is probably a correct picture of the writer's mind. I only 
 read a few pages, which were chiefly notices of his moving 
 about, where he dined, the company he met, and other trifles, 
 often very trifling and sometimes not very decent ; it abounds 
 with expressions of self-reproach for idleness, breach of reso- 
 lutions, and not taking care of his health ; talks of the books 
 he reads and means to read, and constantly describes the 
 state of spirits he is in. There is a paper containing an ac- 
 count of his last interview with Johnson, shortly before John- 
 son died ; he says that he told Johnson how much he re- 
 proached himself for not having lived more in his society, and 
 that he had often resolved to be with him as much as he 
 could, but that his not having done so was a proof of the fal- 
 lacy of our resolutions that he regretted. In Windham's 
 diary are several Johnsoniana, after the manner of Boswell, 
 only much shorter, his opinions on one or two subjects briefly 
 given, some quotations and criticisms. I was much struck 
 with his criticisms on Virgil, whom he seems to have held in 
 great contempt, and to have regarded as inferior to Ovid. 
 He says, " Take away his imitation of Homer, and what do you
 
 86 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1829. 
 
 leave him ? " Of Homer his admiration was unbounded, al- 
 though he says that he never read the whole of the " Odyssey " 
 in the original, but that everything which is most admirable in 
 poetry is to be found in Homer. I care the less about remem- 
 bering these things because they will probably appear in print 
 before long. 1 
 
 Windham told Johnson that he regretted having omitted to 
 talk to him of the most important of all subjects on which he 
 had often doubted. Johnson said, " You mean natural and re- 
 vealed religion," and added that the historical evidences of 
 Christianity were so strong that it was not possible to doubt 
 its truth, that we had not so much evidence that Caesar died 
 in the Capitol as that Christ died in the manner related in the 
 Bible ; that three out of four of the Evangelists died in attes- 
 tation of their evidence, that the same evidence would be con- 
 sidered irresistible in any ordinary historical case. Amyot 
 told me, as we were coming along, that Windham had ques- 
 tioned Johnson about religion, having doubts, and that John- 
 son had removed them by this declaration : if, then, the com- 
 monest and hundred times repeated arguments were sufficient 
 to remove such doubts as were likely to occur to a mind like 
 Windham's, it may be counted a miracle, for I am sure, in the 
 ordinary affairs of life, Windham would not have been so 
 easily satisfied. It has always appeared to me questionable 
 whether Johnson was a believer (I mean whether his clear 
 and unbiassed judgment was satisfied) in Christianity ; he evi- 
 dently dreaded and disliked the subject, and though he would 
 have been indignant had anybody hinted that he had doubts, 
 his nervous irritation at any religious discussion betokened a 
 mind ill at ease on the subject. I learnt one thing from 
 Windham's diary which I put into immediate practice, and 
 that is, to write mine on one side only, and leave the other for 
 other matters connected with the text ; it is more convenient 
 certainly. 
 
 1 A selection from Mr. Windham's journals was published by Mrs. Henry Bar- 
 ing in 1866. The Johnsoniana had previously been published by Mr. Croker in his 
 edition of BoswelFs Life of Johnson.
 
 1829.] SIR PHILIP FRANCIS. 87 
 
 September \6th. The King has nearly lost his eyesight, 
 and is to be couched as soon as his eyes are in a proper state 
 for the operation. He is in a great fright with his father's 
 fate before him, and indeed nothing is more probable than 
 that he will become blind and mad too ; he is already a little 
 of both. It is now a question of appointing a private secre- 
 tary, and Knighton, it is supposed, would be the man ; but if 
 he is to abstain from all business, there would seem to be no 
 necessity for the appointment, as he will be as little able to do 
 business with his private secretary as with his minister. 
 
 September 23^. At Fulham till Friday, when I came to 
 town. Went to Stoke on Saturday, and returned yester- 
 day ; old Lady Salisbury, Giles, E. Capel, and. Conroy. 
 There is always something to be learnt from everybody, if .you 
 touch them on the points they know. Giles told me about the 
 letter to his sister written by Francis, 1 and which was sup- 
 posed to have afforded another proof that he was Junius. 
 Many years ago Francis was in love with his sister, Mrs. 
 King (at Bath), and one day she received an anonymous letter, 
 inclosing a copy of verses. The letter said that the writer 
 had found the verses, and being sure they were meant for her, 
 had sent them to her. The verses were in Francis's hand- 
 writing, the envelope in a feigned hand. When the discus- 
 sion arose about Francis being Junius, Giles said to his sister 
 one clay, " If you have kept those verses which Francis wrote 
 to you many years ago at Bath, it would be curious to examine 
 the handwriting and see if it corresponds with that of Junius.' 
 She found the envelope and verses, and, on comparing them, 
 the writing of the envelope was identical with that of Junius 
 as published in WoodfalPs book. 
 
 Old Creevey is rather an extraordinary character. I know 
 nothing of the early part of his history, but I believe he was 
 an attorney or barrister ; he married a widow, who died a few 
 
 1 Sir Philip Francis, the reputed author of the Letters of Juntas. This anecdote 
 has since been verified with great minuteness by Mr. Twisletonin his researches on th* 
 authorship of Junius. The copy of verses ai^d the envelope in a feigned hand art 
 still in existence. I have seen them. The feigned hand appears to be identical with 
 that of Junius.
 
 88 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1829. 
 
 years ago ; she had something, he nothing ; he got into Par- 
 liament, belonged to the Whigs, displayed a good deal of 
 shrewdness and humor, and was for some time very trouble- 
 some to the Tory government by continually attacking abuses. 
 After some time he lost his seat, and went to live at Brussels, 
 where he became intimate with the Duke of Wellington. 
 Then his wife died, upon which event he was thrown upon the 
 world with about 2oo/. a year or less, no home, few connec- 
 tions, a great many acquaintances, a good constitution, and ex- 
 traordinary spirits. He possesses nothing but his clothes, no 
 property of any sort ; he leads a vagrant life, visiting a num- 
 ber of people who are delighted to have him, and sometimes 
 roving about to various places, as fancy happens to direct, 
 and staying till he has spent what money he has in his pocket. 
 He has no servant, no home, no creditors ; he buys every- 
 thing as he wants it at the place he is at ; he has no ties upon 
 him, and has his time entirely at his own disposal and that of 
 his friends. He is certainly a living proof that a man may be 
 perfectly happy and exceedingly poor, or rather without riches, 
 for he suffers none of the privations of poverty and enjoys 
 many of the advantages of wealth. I think he is the only man 
 I know in society who possesses nothing. 
 
 November <)th. Dined to-day with Byng and met Tom 
 Moore, who was very agreeable ; he told us a great deal 
 about his forthcoming " Life of Byron." He is nervous about 
 it ; he is employed in conjunction with Scott and Macintosh 
 to write a history of England for one of the new publications 
 like the Family Library. 1 Scott is to write Scotland, Macin- 
 tosh England, and Moore Ireland ; and they get i,ooo/. 
 apiece ; but Scott could not compress his share into one vol- 
 ume, so he is to have i.joo/. The republication of Scott's 
 works will produce him an enormous fortune ; he has already 
 paid off 3o,ooo/. of the Constable bankruptcy debt, and he is 
 to pay the remaining 3o,ooo/. very soon. A new class of 
 readers is produced by the Bell and Lancaster schools, and 
 this is the cause of the prodigious and extensive sale of cheap 
 
 1 Dr. Lardner's Cyclopadia.
 
 1829.] JAMES MACINTOSH. 89 
 
 publications. Moore ' had received a letter from Madame de 
 Guiccioli to-day ; he says she is not handsome. Byron's ex- 
 ploits, especially at Venice, seem to have been marvelous. 
 Moore said he wrote with extraordinary rapidity, but his cor- 
 rections were frequent and laborious. When he wrote the 
 address for the opening of Drury Lane Theatre, he corrected 
 it repeatedly. 
 
 I saw Miss Fanny Kemble for the first time on Friday, and 
 was disappointed. She is short, ill made, with large hands 
 and feet, an expressive countenance, though not handsome, 
 fine eyes, teeth, and hair, not devoid of grace, and with great 
 energy and spirit, her voice good, though she has a little of 
 the drawl of her family. She wants the pathos and tender- 
 ness of Miss O'Neill, and she excites no emotion ; but she is 
 very young, clever, and may become a very good, perhaps a 
 fine actress. Mrs. Siddons was not so good at her age. She 
 fills the house every night. 
 
 Noevmber 12th. At Roehampton at Lord Clifden's from 
 Tuesday, the loth, till to-day ; Sir James Macintosh, Moore, 
 Poodle Byng, 1 and the Master of the Rolls. It was uncom- 
 monly agreeable. I never was in Macintosh's society for so 
 long before, and never was more filled with admiration. His 
 prodigious memory and the variety and extent of his informa- 
 tion remind me of all I have heard and read of Burke and 
 Johnson, but his amiable, modest, and unassuming character 
 makes him far more agreeable than they could either of them 
 (particularly Johnson) have been, while he is probably equally 
 instructive and amusing. Not a subject could be mentioned 
 of which he did not treat with equal facility and abundance, 
 from the council of Trent to Voltaire's epistles ; every sub- 
 
 1 Moore told me that the editor of one of the annuals offered him 6oo/. to write twc 
 articles for his work, but " that he loathed the task" and refused, though the money 
 would have been very acceptable. The man said he did not care about the merit of 
 the performance, and only wanted his name ; when Moore refused, the editor raked 
 out some old and forgotten lines of his to Perry, and inserted them with his name. 
 C. C. G. 
 
 * Hon. Frederick Byng, formerly of the Foreign Office, universally known at 
 this time as " The Poodle," probably becauso he once kept a fine animal of that 
 breed.
 
 90 THE GKEVILLE MEMOIRS. [1829. 
 
 ject, every character, every work, all were familiar to him, and 
 I do not know a greater treat than to hear him talk. 
 
 Macintosh said he was a great reader of novels ; had read 
 " Old Mortality " four times in English and once in French. 
 Ellis said he preferred Miss Austen's povels to Scott's. 
 Talked of the old novelists Fielding, little read now, Smol- 
 let less ; Macintosh is a great admirer of Swift, and does not 
 think his infamous conduct to Vanessa quite made out. 
 Talked of the articles of our religion, and said that they were 
 in almost exact conformity with certain doctrines laid down 
 in the council of Trent. The Jansenists differ very little from 
 our Church, except as to the doctrine of the Real Presence. 
 Speaking of India, Macintosh said that it was very remark- 
 .able that we had lost one great empire and gained another in 
 the same generation, and that it was still a moot point whether 
 the one really was a gain or the other a loss. Called America 
 the second maritime power. Franklin wept when he quitted 
 England. When he signed the treaty at Paris, he retired for 
 a moment and changed his coat. It was remarked, and he 
 said he had been to put on the coat in which he had been in- 
 sulted by Lord Loughborough at the English council board. 
 Madame de Stae'l, he said, was more agreeable in tete-a-tete 
 than in society ; she despised her children, and said, " Us ne 
 me ressemblent pas.''' He told her she did not do them jus- 
 tice, particularly her daughter. She said, " Oest une lune 
 bien pale.' 1 '' She took an aversion to Rogers, but when she 
 met him at Bowood, and he told her anecdotes, she liked him. 
 She had vanquished Brougham, and was very proud of those 
 conquests. 
 
 Moore told several stories which I don't recollect, but this 
 amused us : Some Irish had emigrated to some West In- 
 dian colony ; the negroes soon learnt their brogue, and when 
 another ship-load of Irish came soon after, the negroes as 
 they sailed in, said, " Ah, Paddy, how are you ? " " Oh, 
 Christ ! " said one of them, " what, y're become black al- 
 ready ! " 
 
 Moore without displaying the astonishing knowledge of
 
 1829.] JAMES MACINTOSH. 91 
 
 Macintosh, was very full of information, gayety, and humor. 
 Two more delightful da'ys I never passed. I could not help 
 reflecting what an extraordinary thing success is in this world, 
 when a man so gifted as Macintosh has failed completely in 
 public life, never having attained honors, reputation, or wealth, 
 while so many ordinary men have reaped an abundant harvest 
 of all. What a consolation this affords to mediocrity. None 
 can approach Macintosh without admiring his extraordinary 
 powers, and at the same time wondering why they have not 
 produced greater effects in the world either of literature or 
 politics. His virtues are obstacles to his success ; he has not 
 the art of pushing or of making himself feared ; he is too 
 doucereux and complimentary, and from some accident or 
 defect in the composition of his character, and in the course 
 of events which have influenced his circumstances, he has 
 always been civilly neglected. Both Macintosh and Moore 
 told a great many anecdotes, but one morning at breakfast the 
 latter related a story which struck us all. Macintosh said it 
 was enough to furnish materials for a novel, but that the 
 simple narrative was so striking it ought to be written down 
 without exaggeration or addition. I afterwards wrote it down 
 as nearly as I could recollect it. It was Crampton, the Sur- 
 geon-general, who told it to Moore and Crampton loquitur. 
 
 " Some years ago I was present at a duel that was fought 
 between a young man of the name of MacLoughlin and an- 
 other Irishman. MacL. was desperately wounded ; his second 
 ran up to him, and thought to console him with the intelligence 
 that his antagonist had also fallen. He only replied, " I am 
 sorry for it if he is suffering as much as I do now." I was 
 struck by the good feeling evinced in this reply, and took an 
 interest in the fate of the young man. He recovered, and a 
 few years after my interest was again powerfully excited by 
 hearing that he had been arrested on suspicion of having 
 murdered his father-in-law, his mother's second husband. He 
 was tried and found guilty on the evidence of a soldier who 
 happened to be passing in the middle of the night near the 
 house in which the murder was committed. Attracted by a
 
 92 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1829. 
 
 light which gleamed through the lower part of the window, he 
 approached it, and through an opening between the shutter 
 and the frame was able to look into the room. There he saw 
 a man in the act of lifting a dead body from the floor, while 
 his hands and clothes were stained all over with blood. He 
 hastened to give information of what he had seen ; Mac- 
 Loughlin and his mother were apprehended, and the former, 
 having been identified by the soldier, was found guilty. There 
 was no evidence against the woman, and she was consequently 
 acquitted. MacLoughlin conducted himself throughout the 
 trial with determined calmness, and never could be induced to 
 acknowledge his guilt. The morning of his execution he had 
 an interview with his mother ; none knew what passed between 
 them, but when they parted he was heard to say, " Mother, 
 may God forgive you ! " The fate of this young man made a 
 deep impression on me, till time and passing events effaced 
 the occurrence from my mind. It was several years after- 
 wards that I one day received a letter from a lady (a very old 
 and intimate acquaintance) entreating that I would immediately 
 hasten down to the assistance of a Roman Catholic priest who 
 was lying dangerously ill at her house, and the symptoms of 
 whose malady she described. Her description left me doubtful 
 whether the mind or the body of the patient was affected. 
 Being unable to leave Dublin, I wrote to say that if the 
 disease was bodily the case was hopeless, but if mental I 
 should recommend certain lenitives, for which I added a pre- 
 scription. The priest died, and shortly after his death the 
 lady confided to me an extraordinary and dreadful story. He 
 had been her confessor and intimate friend, and in moments 
 of agony and doubt produced by horrible recollections he had 
 revealed to her a secret which had been imparted to him in 
 confession. He had received the dying confession of Mac^ 
 Loughlin, who, as it turned out, was not the murderer of his 
 father-in-law, but had died to save the life and honor of his 
 mother, by whom the crime had been really committed. She 
 was a woman of violent passions ; she had quarreled with 
 her husband in the middle of the night, and after throwing
 
 1829.] THOMAS MOORE. 93 
 
 him from the bed, had dispatched him by repeated blows. 
 When she found he was dead she was seized with terror, and 
 hastening to the apartment of her son, called him to witness 
 the shocking spectacle and to save her from the consequences 
 of her crime. It was at this moment, when he was lifting the 
 body and preparing to remove the bloody evidence of his 
 mother's guilt, that the soldier passed by and saw him in the 
 performance of his dreadful task. To the priest alone he 
 acknowledged the truth, but his last words to his mother were 
 now explained." 
 
 November loth. Roehampton. Only Moore and myself ; 
 Washington Irving and Maclane, the American Minister, come 
 to-morrow. Moore spoke in the highest terms of Luttrell, of 
 his wit and information, and of his writings, to which he does 
 not think the world does justice, particularly the " Advice to 
 Julia," but he says Luttrell is too fearful of giving offense. 
 
 Moore was very agreeable, told a story of Sir St. George 
 
 in Ireland. He was to attend a meeting at which a great many 
 Catholics were to be present (I forget where), got drunk, and 
 lost his hat, when he went into the room where they were as- 
 sembled and said, " Damnation to you all ! I came to emanci- 
 pate you, and you 've stole my hat." In the evening Moore 
 sang, but the pianoforte was horrid, and he was not in good 
 voice ; still his singing " va dritto al cuore" for it produces 
 an exceeding sadness, and brings to mind a thousand melan 
 choly recollections, and generates many melancholy anticipa- 
 tions. He told me as we came along that with him it required 
 no thought to write, but that there was no end to it ; so many 
 fancies on every subject crowded on his brain ; that he often 
 read what he had written as if it had been the composition of 
 another, and was amused ; that it was the greatest pleasure to 
 him to compose those light and trifling pieces, humorous and 
 satirical, which had been so often successful. He holds Vol- 
 taire to have been the most extraordinary genius that ever 
 lived, on account of his universality and fertility ; talked of 
 Scott and his wonderful labor and power of composition, as 
 well as the extent to which he has carried the art of book-
 
 94 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1829. 
 
 making ; besides writing this history of Scotland for Dr. Lard- 
 ner's " Encyclopaedia," he is working at the prefaces for the 
 republication of the Waverley Novels, the " Tales of a Grand- 
 father," and has still found time to review Tytler, which he 
 has done out of the scraps and chips of his other works. A 
 little while ago he had to correct some of the proofs of the 
 history of Scotland, and being dissatisfied with what was done, 
 he nearly wrote it over again, and sent it up to the editor. 
 Some time after finding another copy of the proofs, he forgot 
 that he had corrected them before, and he rewrote these also 
 and sent them up, and the editor is at this moment engaged 
 in 'selecting from the two corrected copies the best parts of 
 each. 
 
 Yesterday I met the Chancellor at dinner at the Master of 
 the Rolls', when he told me about the King and Denman. 1 
 The King would not have the Recorder's report last week, 
 because the Recorder was too ill to attend, and he was re- 
 solved not to see Denman. The Duke went to him, when he 
 threw himself into a terrible tantrum, and was so violent and 
 irritable that they were obliged to let him have his own way 
 for fear he should be ill, which they thought he would other- 
 wise certainly be. He is rather the more furious with Den- 
 man from having been forced to consent to his having the silk 
 gown, and he said at that time that he should never set his 
 foot in any house of his ; so that business is at a standstill, 
 and the unfortunate wretches under sentence of death are 
 suffered to linger on, because he does not choose to do his 
 duty and admit to his presence an officer to whom he has 
 taken an aversion. As the Chancellor said to me, " the fact is, 
 he is mad." The fact is that he is a spoiled, selfish, odious 
 beast, and has no idea of doing anything but what is agreeable 
 to himself, or of there being any duties attached to the office 
 he holds. The expenses of the civil list exceed the allowance 
 in every branch, every quarter ; but nobody can guess how 
 
 1 Thomas Denman, afterwards Lord Denman and Lord Chief Justice of England, 
 was at this time Common Serjeant of the City of London. George IV. hated him 
 for the part he had taken on the Queen's trial, and did all he could to prevent his 
 having a silk gown.
 
 1829.] STRAWBERRY HILL. 95 
 
 the money is spent, for the King makes no show and never 
 has anybody there. My belief is that and plun- 
 der him, or rather the country, between them, in certain stipu- 
 lated proportions. Among other expenses his tailor's bill is 
 said to be 4,ooo/. or 5,ooo/. a year. He is now employed in 
 devising a new dress for the Guards. 
 
 November 2ist. Maclane, the American Minister, could 
 not come, but Irving did. He is lively and unassuming, 
 rather vulgar, very good-humored. We went to Strawberry 
 Hill to-day Moore, Ellis, Lady Georgiana, and I. Ellis is 
 an excellent cicerone; everything is in the state in which old 
 Horace Walpole left it, and just as his catalogue and descrip- 
 tion describe it. He says in that work that he makes that 
 catalogue to provide against the dispersion of his collections, 
 and he tied up everything as strictly as possible. Moore sang 
 in the evening and was very agreeable the whole day. He 
 said that Byron thought that Crabbe and Coleridge had the 
 most genius and feeling of any living poet. Nobody reads 
 Crabbe now. How dangerous it is to be a story-teller, how- 
 ever agreeable the manner or amusing the budget, for Moore 
 to-day told a story which he told here last week. However, 
 they all laughed just the same, except me, and I moralized 
 upon it thus. Clifden is a very odd man, shrewd and well in- 
 formed, and somewhat sarcastic, but very gay and good- 
 humored, fond of society and the " Times " newspaper, a great 
 enemy to the Church, and chuckles over its alarms and its 
 dangers, but 1 was amused with a comical contradiction. 
 Somebody told a story about an erratum in an Irish paper, 
 which said that such a one had abjured the errors of the 
 Romish Church and embraced those of the Protestant, at 
 which he was greatly diverted, and said, " That is just what I 
 should have said myself ; " and to-day after dinner, all of a 
 sudden, he said grace (he says grace on Sunday only). 
 
 Moore gave an account this morning of his being examined 
 in Trinity College, Dublin, when a boy, during the rebellion. 
 Many of the youths (himself, and he says he is pretty .sure 
 Croker, among the number) had taken the oath of the United
 
 96 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1829. 
 
 Irishmen * (Emmett 2 and some others who were in the col- 
 lege had absconded). The Chancellor (Lord Clare) came to 
 the college, erected his tribunal, and examined all the stu- 
 dents upon oath. He asked first if they had belonged to any 
 society of United Irish, and if the answer was in the affirma- 
 tive, he asked whom they had ever seen there and what had 
 passed. Contumacy was punishable by expulsion and exclu- 
 sion from every profession. At the end of the first day's ex- 
 amination Moore went home to his parents, and told them he 
 could not take an oath which might oblige him to criminate 
 others (as he should be forced to answer any question they 
 might choose to put), and though they were poor, and had 
 conceived great hopes of him, they encouraged him in this 
 resolution. The next day he was called forth, when he re- 
 fused to be sworn, stating his reasons why. The Chancellor 
 said he did not come there to dispute with him, but added 
 that they should only ask him general questions, on which he 
 took the oath, but reserved to himself the power of declining 
 to answer particular questions. They only asked him such 
 questions as he could conscientiously answer (they had got all 
 the information they wanted, and were beginning to relax), 
 but when they had done with him Lord Clare asked him why 
 he had demurred to answer. He said he was afraid he might 
 be called on to criminate others, and that he had never taken 
 an oath before, and naturally felt some reluctance and dread 
 on such an occasion. 
 
 Moore told a story of an Irishman who saw from the pit a 
 friend of his acting Othello, and he called out, " Larry, Larry, 
 Larry, there 's the least taste in life of your linen hanging 
 out ! " One day in America, near the Falls of Niagara, Moore 
 saw this scene : An Indian, whose boat was moored to the 
 shore, was making love to the wife of another Indian ; the 
 husband came upon them unawares ; he jumped into the boat, 
 when the other cut the cord, and in an instant it was carried 
 into the middle of the stream, and before he could seize his 
 
 He did not take the oath till after this examination. 
 He had lived in intimacy with Emmett.
 
 1829.] WASHINGTON IRVING. 97 
 
 paddle was already within the rapids. He exerted all his 
 force to extricate himself from the peril, but finding that his 
 efforts were vain, and his canoe was drawn with increasing 
 rapidity towards the falls, he threw away his paddle, drank 
 off at a draught the contents of a bottle of brandy, tossed the 
 empty bottle into the air, then quietly folded his arms, ex- 
 tended himself in the boat, and awaited with perfect calmness 
 his inevitable fate. In a few moments he was whirled down 
 the falls, and disappeared forever. 
 
 Washington Irving wants sprightliness and more refined 
 manners. He was in Spain four years, at Madrid, Seville, 
 and Granada. While at the latter place he was lodged in the 
 Alhambra, which is excellently preserved and very beautiful ; 
 he gives a deplorable description of the ignorance and back- 
 ward state of the Spaniards. When he returned to France he 
 was utterly uninformed of what had been passing in Europe 
 while he was in Spain, and he says that he now constantly 
 hears events alluded to of which he knows nothing. 
 
 December \st. After I left Roehampton last week, came to 
 town and dined with Byng, Moore, Irving, Sir T. Lawrence, 
 and Vesey Fitzgerald ; very agreeable. No news but the 
 failure of the Spanish expedition against Mexico, which capit- 
 ulated, and the soldiers promised never to bear arms against 
 Mexico again. On Friday went to see Lord Glengall's com- 
 edy, with a prologue by F. Mills and an epilogue by Alvanley. 1 
 It succeeded, though the first two acts went off heavily : not 
 much novelty in it", but the characters well drawn and some of 
 the situations very good ; it amused me very well, and was 
 exceedingly well acted. Glengall came to me afterwards to 
 get criticisms on his play. I told him some of the faults, and 
 he was not in the Sir Fretful line, but took it all very thank- 
 fully. At Roehampton on Sunday ; Byng, Sir Robert Wilson, 
 Sharpe, 2 and Luttrell. There is a joke of Luttrell's about 
 Sharpe. He was a wholesale hatter formerly ; having a dingy 
 complexion, somebody said he had transferred the color of 
 
 1 A comedy by the Earl of Glengall, entitled, I think, The Fools of Fashion. 
 J Richard Sharpe, Esq., well known by the sobriquet of " Conversation Sharpe.' 
 7
 
 98 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1829. 
 
 his hats to his face, when Luttrell said that " it was darkness 
 which might be felt." 
 
 December 5//z. This morning the Duke of Wellington 
 sent for me about the council on Monday, and after settling 
 that matter he began talking about the King's conduct with 
 reference to the Recorder's report. I told him it was thought 
 very extraordinary. He said, " You have no idea what a 
 scene I had with him ; there never was anything like it. I 
 never saw him so violent." He then rang the bell, when 
 Drummond (his secretary) appeared, and the Duke desired 
 him to bring the correspondence with the King about the Re- 
 corder, which was done. He then said, " I came to town on 
 the Monday for the council and report, which was to have 
 been on Tuesday, and which he had himself settled, without 
 consulting me : in the afternoon Phillips came to me and said 
 that the Recorder could not attend, and that they did not 
 know if his Majesty would receive Denman. I wrote to the 
 King directly this letter." He then read the letter, which was 
 to this effect : that he informed the King that the Recorder 
 was ill, and therefore the Common Serjeant, Mr. Denman, 
 would have the honor of making the report to his Majesty ; 
 that he thought it right to apprise him of this, and if he had 
 any objection to receive Mr. Denman, it would be better to 
 put off the council, as no other person could now lay the re- 
 port before him. " To this the King wrote an answer, begin- 
 ning ' My dear Duke,' not as usual," the Duke said, " ' My 
 dear friend,' that the state of his eyes would not allow him to 
 write by candle-light, and he was therefore obliged to make 
 use of an amanuensis. The letter was written by Watson, 
 and signed by the King, 'Your sincere friend, G. R.' It was 
 to the effect that he was quite surprised the Duke should 
 have made him such a proposal ; that he had been grossly in- 
 sulted by Denman, and would never admit him to his pres- 
 ence ; that it had been settled the Deputy Recorder, Arabin, 
 in the absence of the Recorder, should make the report, and 
 that he had already done so ; that he was surprised, knowing 
 as the Duke must do the firmness of his character, that he
 
 1829.] FIRMNESS OF WELLINGTON. 99 
 
 should think him capable of yielding on this subject ; that he 
 never would do so, and desired the council might take place, 
 and the report be made by Arabin." His letter was much 
 longer, but this was the pith of it. On the receipt of this the 
 Duke held a consultation with Peel and the Chancellor, when 
 they determined to put off the council, which was done, and 
 the Duke wrote to the King as nearly as I can recollect, as 
 follows. This was an admirable letter business-like, firm, 
 and respectful : " That upon the receipt of his Majesty's let- 
 ter he had thought it his duty to consult the Chancellor, and 
 that they had come to the resolution of postponing the council 
 and report ; that the making of this report was the privilege 
 of the city of London, and that the Recorder in the execution 
 of this duty, being unable to attend, had placed it in the hands 
 of the Common Serjeant, whose duty it then became to pre- 
 sent it ; that it was now in his hands, and could not be with- 
 drawn without his consent ; that the only occasion on which it 
 had been presented by Mr. Serjeant Arabin had been when 
 the Common Serjeant was on the circuit ; that as his Majesty 
 objected to admit Mr. Denman to his presence,, they had 
 thought it best to put off the council, as if Mr. Arabin was 
 summoned he could have no report to present, and there 
 would probably arise some discussion between the Common 
 Serjeant and him, which would be a proceeding such as ought 
 not to take place in his Majesty's palace, and that he would 
 wait upon his Majesty the next morning and take his com- 
 mands upon the subject." The next day, he continued, he 
 went to Windsor, where he had a grand scene with his Maj- 
 esty. " I am sure," said the Duke, " that nobody can manage 
 him but me." He repeated all he had said in his letter, and 
 a great deal more ; represented to him that having given his 
 sanction to the official appointment of Denman since the 
 Queen's trial, he could not refuse to receive him in the execu- 
 tion of his duty without alleging legal objections for so doing ; 
 to which the King replied that Lord Liverpool had behaved 
 very ill to him, and had made him do this, and then he became 
 very violent, and cursed and swore, and said he never would
 
 100 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. 11829. 
 
 see him. The Duke said that he might put off the report ; 
 that there were three men who must be hanged, and it did not 
 signify one farthing whether they were kept in prison a little 
 longer or shorter time (he forgets that there are others lying 
 under sentence of death, probably several), and that he had 
 better put it off than have the Common Serjeant come down 
 to a scene in his palace. After letting him run on in his usual 
 way, and exhaust his violence, he left him, and the report 
 stands over once more ; but the Duke told me that it could 
 not stand over after this, and if the Recorder is not well 
 enough when the time arrives for the next report, his Majesty 
 must receive Denman whether he will or no, and that he shall 
 insist upon it. He told me the whole history in great detail 
 mixed with pretty severe strictures on the King. I have put 
 down all I could carry away. I have not such a memory (or 
 such an invention) as Bourrienne. 
 
 The Duke then told me that he had made strong remon- 
 strances about the excess of expenditure on the civil list ; 
 that in the Lord Steward's department there had been an ex- 
 cess of 7,ooo/., in that of the Master of the Horse of 5,ooo/., 
 and that of the Master of the Robes (the tailor's bill) of 
 io,ooo/. in the last half-year ; 1 that he had stated that unless 
 they could save the difference in the next half-year, or pay it 
 out of the privy purse, he, must go to Parliament, which 
 would bring the whole of the expenses of the civil list under 
 discussion. He said it was very extraordinary, that the King's 
 expenses appeared to be nothing ; his Majesty had not more 
 tables than he (the Duke) had. 
 
 I asked him about Brummell and his consulship. He said 
 Aberdeen hesitated ; that he had offered to take all the re- 
 sponsibility on himself ; that he had in Dudley's time pro- 
 posed it to him (Dudley), who had objected, and at last owned 
 he was afraid the King might not like it, on which he had 
 spoken to the King, who had made objections, abusing Brum- 
 mell said he was a damned fellow and had behaved very ill 
 to him (the old story, always himself moi, moi, moi) but 
 
 1 I am not sure that I am correct in the sums, but very nearly so. C. C. G-
 
 1 829.] THOMAS LAWRENCE. IOI 
 
 after having let him run out his tether of abuse, he had at last 
 extracted his consent ; nevertheless Dudley did not give him 
 the appointment. The Duke said- he had ,no acquaintance 
 with Brummell. : \ * v -">,* ', ' 
 
 December 7th. At Windsor for a council ; the Duke was 
 there, and Lord Aberdeen, Murray, Lard RoSalyn. tlre'fhar- 
 cellor, and Herries. There was a chapter of the Bath, when 
 the Duke of Clarence was installed Grand Master, Stratford 
 Canning and Robert Gordon, Grand Crosses. The King looked 
 very well but was very blind. The council was by candle- 
 light, but he could not see to read the list, and begged me to 
 read it for him. However, I was so good a courtier that I held 
 the candle in such a way as to enable him to read it himself. 
 He saw the Duke for a short time, and the Chancellor for a 
 long time. I asked the latter if the King had been Denman- 
 izing, and he said, " Oh, yes ' I said when I consented to 
 that fellow's having the silk gown that I would never admit 
 him,' " etc., -I was amused with old Conyngham, who told me 
 his wife had been in danger, " so they tell me," talking of her 
 as if she were somebody else's wife. The Duke went from 
 the council to Stowe ; we all returned to town. 
 
 December ityh. Ashley told me a curious thing about Sir 
 Thomas Lawrence the other day. His father kept the inn at 
 Devizes, 1 and when Lord Shaftesbury's father and mother were 
 once at the inn with Lord Shaftesbury, then a boy, the inn- 
 keeper came into the room and said he had a son with a genius 
 for drawing, and if they would allow him, his little boy should 
 draw their little boy's picture ; on which the little Lawrence 
 was sent for, who produced his chalk and paper, and made a 
 portrait of the young lord. 
 
 December 22d. Dined with Byng yesterday and met 
 Moore, Fitzgerald, and Luttrell. Luttrell is a great lover of 
 conundrums, which taste he acquired from Beresford, the 
 author of the " Miseries of Human Life," who has invented 
 
 1 Sir Thomas Lawrence's father at one time kept the '' Black Bear'' at Devizes. 
 In 1775 Lord and Lady Kenyon had the young prodigy (as he was called) introduced 
 to them there. Lawrence was then only six years old.
 
 102 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1829 
 
 some very curious but elaborate conundrums. They are not 
 worth repeating. Moore told a story of an Irishman at the 
 play'<:r.-li ; ng out, " Now, "boys, a clap for Wellington ! " which 
 being co'mplicd'witV u And now silence for the rest of the 
 family ! " He co-npla ; ned that all the humor which used to 
 oreM-' on* PI PH Irish aud'once is extinct. 
 
 December 27th. At Panshanger since the 24th ; Lievens, 
 J. Russell, Montrond, M. de la Rochefoucauld, F. Lamb. On 
 Christmas Day the Princess [Lieven] got up a little /<?/ such 
 as is customary all over Germany. Three trees in great pots 
 were put upon a long table covered with pink linen ; each tree 
 was illuminated with three circular tiers of colored wax can- 
 dles blue, green, red, and white. Before each tree was 
 displayed a quantity of toys, gloves, pocket-handkerchiefs, 
 workboxes, books, and various articles presents made to the 
 owner of the tree. It was very pretty. Here it was only for 
 the children ; in Germany the custom extends to persons of 
 all ages. The Princess told us to-day about the Emperor of 
 Russia's relapse and the cause of it. He had had a cold which 
 he had neglected, but at length the physicians had given him 
 some medicine to produce perspiration, and he was in bed in 
 that state, the Empress sitting by him reading to him, when 
 on a sudden a dreadful noise was heard in the next (the chil- 
 dren's) room, followed by loud shrieks. The Empress rushed 
 into the room, and the Emperor jumped out of bed in his shirt 
 and followed her. There the children, the governess, and the 
 nurses were screaming out that Constantine (the second boy, 
 of two years old) was destroyed ; a huge vase of porphyry 
 had been thrown down and had fallen over the child, who was 
 not to be seen. So great was the weight and size of the vase, 
 that it was several minutes before it could be raised, though 
 assistance was immediately fetched, and all that time the Em- 
 peror and Empress stood there in ignorance of the fate of the 
 child, and expecting to see the removal of the vase discover 
 its mangled body, when to their delight it was found that the 
 vase had fallen exactly over him, without doing him the least 
 injury, but the agitation and the cold brought on a violent
 
 1830.] DEATH OF LAWRENCE. 1 03 
 
 fever, which for some time put the Emperor in great danger. 
 The Princess said she was surprised that it did not kill the 
 Empress, for she is the most nervous woman in the world, 
 ever since the conspiracy at the time of his accession, when 
 her nerves were ebranles by all she went through. That scene 
 (of the revolt of the guards) took place under the window of 
 the palace. The whole imperial family was assembled there 
 and saw it all, the Emperor being in the middle of men by 
 whom they expected him to be assassinated every moment. 
 During all that time many hours the young Empress never 
 spoke, but stood "pale comme une statue" and when at length 
 it was all over, and the Emperor returned, she threw herself 
 on her knees and began to pray. 
 
 1830. 
 
 Roehampton, January gift. Yesterday morning died Sir 
 Thomas Lawrence after a very short illness. Few people 
 knew he was ill before they heard he was dead. He was 
 longe primus of all living painters, and has left no one fit to 
 succeed him in the chair of the Royal Academy. Lawrence 
 was about sixty, very like Canning in appearance, remarkably 
 gentlemanlike, with very mild manners, though rather too 
 doucereux; agreeable in society, unassuming, and not a great 
 talker ; his mind was highly cultivated, he had a taste for 
 every kind of literature, and was enthusiastically devoted to 
 his art ; he was very industrious, and painted an enormous 
 number of portraits, but many of his later works are still un- 
 finished, and great complaints used to be made of his exacting 
 either the whole or half payment when he began a picture, 
 but that when he had got the money he could never be pre- 
 vailed on to complete it. Although he is supposed to have 
 earned enormous sums by his paintings, he has always been a 
 distressed man, without any visible means of expense, except 
 a magnificent collection of drawings by the ancient masters, 
 said to be the finest in the world, and procured at great cost. 
 He was, however, a generous patron of young artists of merit 
 and talent. It was always said that he lost money at play, but
 
 104 THE GREVILU: .MEMOIRS. [1830 
 
 this assertion seems to have proceeded more from the diffi- 
 culty of reconciling nis pecuniary embarrassments with his 
 enormous profits than from any proof of the fact. He was a 
 great courtier, and is said to have been so devoted to the 
 King that he would not paint anybody who was personally ob- 
 noxious to his Majesty : but I do not believe this is true. He 
 is an irreparable loss ; since Sir Joshua there has been no 
 painter like him ; his portraits as pictures I think are not 
 nearly so fine as Sir Joshua's, but as likenesses many of 
 them are quite perfect. Moore's was the last portrait he 
 painted, and Miss Kemble's his last drawing. 
 
 January 2.id. Lawrence was buried yesterday ; a mag- 
 nificent funeral, which will have cost, they say, 2,ooo/. The 
 pall was borne by Clanwilliam, Aberdeen, Sir G. Murray, 
 Croker, Agar Ellis, and three more I forget who. There 
 were thirty-two mourning-coaches and eighty private car- 
 riages. The ceremony in the church lasted two hours. 
 Pretty well for a man who died in very embarrassed circum- 
 stances. The favorites for the chair of the Academy are Shee 
 and Wilkie, painters, and Westmacott and Chantrey, sculptors. 
 
 We were talking of Clanwilliam, who Agar said was the 
 quickest man he had ever known ; Luttrell said he and Rog- 
 ers were " the quick and the dead}' 1 Looking over the " Re- 
 port of the Woods and Forests and the Cost of the Palaces," 
 somebody said " the pensive " (meaning the public : see " Re- 
 jected Addresses ") must pay ; Luttrell said " the public was 
 the pensive and the King the expensive." 
 
 February ^d. I have just finished the first volume of 
 Moore's " Life of Byron." I don't think I like this style of 
 biography, halfway between ordinary narrative and self-de- 
 lineation in the shape of letters, diary, etc. Moore's part is 
 agreeably and feelingly written, and in a very different style 
 from the " Life of Sheridan " no turgid diction and brilliant 
 antitheses. It is, however, very amusing ; the letters are ex- 
 ceedingly clever, full of wit, humor, and point, abounding in 
 illustration, imagination, and information, but not the most 
 agreeable sort of letters. They are joined together by a sue-
 
 1830.] LOKD BYROX. 105 
 
 cession of little essays upon his character. But as to life, it is 
 no life at all : it merely tells you that the details of his life are 
 not tellable, that they would be like those of Tilly or Casa- 
 nova, and so indecent, and compromise so many people, that 
 we must be content to look at his life through an impenetrable 
 veil. Then in the letters and diary, the perpetual hiatus, and 
 asterisks, and initials are exceedingly tantalizing ; but alto- 
 gether it is very amusing. As to Byron, I have never had 
 but one opinion about his poetry, which I think of first-rate 
 excellence ; an enormous heresy, of course, more particularly 
 with those whose poetical taste rests upon the same founda- 
 tion that their religious creed does that of having been 
 taught what to admire in the one case as they have been en- 
 joined what to believe in the other. With regard to his char- 
 acter, I think Moore has succeeded in proving that he was 
 far from deficient in amiable qualities ; he was high-minded, 
 liberal, generous, and good-natured, and, if he does not exag- 
 gerate his own feelings, a warm-hearted and sincere friend. 
 But what a wretch he was ! how thoroughly miserable with 
 such splendid talents ! how little philosophy ! wretched on 
 account of his lame foot ; not even his successes with women 
 could reconcile him to a little personal deformity, though this 
 is too hard a word for it ; then tormenting himself to death 
 nobody can tell why or wherefore. There never was so ill- 
 regulated a mind, and he had not even the talent of making 
 his pleasures subservient to his happiness not any notion of 
 enjoyment ; all with him was riot, and debauchery, and rage, 
 and despair. That he very sincerely entertained a bad opin- 
 ion of mankind may be easily believed ; but so far from his 
 pride and haughtiness raising him above the influence of the 
 opinion of those whom he so despised, he was the veriest 
 slave to it that ever breathed, as he confesses when he says 
 that he was almost more annoyed at the censure of the mean- 
 est than pleased with the praises of the highest of mankind ; 
 and when he deals around his fierce vituperation or bitter sar- 
 casms, he is only clanking the chains which, with all his pride, 
 and defiance, and contempt, he is unable to throw off. Then
 
 106 THE GRE /'///.A .MEMOIRS. 11830. 
 
 he despises pretenders and charlatans of all sorts, while he is 
 himself a pretender, as all men are who assume a character 
 which does not belong to them, and affect to be something 
 which they are all the time conscious they are not in reality. 
 But to " assume a virtue if you have it not " is more allowable 
 than to assume a vice which you have not. To wish to ap- 
 pear better or wiser than we really are is excusable in itself, 
 and it is only the manner of doing it that may become ridicu- 
 lous ; but to endeavor to appear worse than we are is a spe- 
 cies of perverted vanity the most disgusting, and a very bad 
 compliment to the judgment, the morals, or the taste of our 
 acquaintance. Yet, with all his splendid genius, this sort of 
 vanity certainly distinguished Lord Byron, and that among 
 many other things proves how deeply a man may be read in 
 human nature, what an insight he may acquire into the 
 springs of action and feeling, and yet how incapable he may 
 be of making any practical application of the knowledge he 
 has acquired and the result of which he can faithfully deline- 
 ate. He gives a list of the books he had read at eighteen 
 which appears incredible, particularly as he says that he was 
 always idle, and eight years after Scott says he did not appear 
 well read either in poetry or history. Swift says ; ' some men 
 know books as others do lords learn their titles, and then 
 boast of their acquaintance with them," and so perhaps at 
 eighteen he knew by name the books he mentions ; indeed, 
 the list contains Hooker, Bacon, Locke, Hobbes, Berkeley, 
 etc. It sounds rather improbable ; but his letters contain 
 allusions to every sort of literature, and certainly indicate con- 
 siderable information. ''Dans le pays des aveugles les borgnes 
 sont rots" and Sir Walter Scott might think a man only half 
 read who knows all that is contained in the brains of 
 White's, Brookes', and Boodle's, and the greater part of the 
 two Houses of Parliament. But the more one reads and hears 
 of great men the more reconciled one becomes to one's own 
 mediocrity. 
 
 " Say thou, whose thoughts at nothingness repine, 
 Shall Byron's fame with Byron's fate be thine? "
 
 1830.] THE FIRE KING. IO/ 
 
 Who would not prefer any obscurity before such splendid 
 misery as was the lot of that extraordinary man ? Even 
 Moore is not happy. One thinks how one should like to be 
 envied, and admired, and applauded, but after all, such men 
 suffer more than we know or they will confess, and their 
 celebrity is dearly purchased. 
 
 " Se di ciascun 1'interno affanno 
 Si leggesse in fronte scritto, 
 Quauti guai ch ; invidia fanno 
 Ci farebbe pieta." 
 
 One word more about Byron and I have done. I was much 
 struck by the coincidence of style between his letters and his 
 journal, and that appears to me a proof of the reality and 
 nature which prevailed in both. 
 
 February ^th. There is a charlatan of the name of Cho- 
 bert, who calls himself the Fire King, who has' been imposing 
 upon the world for a year or more, exhibiting all sorts of jug- 
 gleries in hot ovens, swallowing poisons, hot lead, etc. ; but 
 yesterday he was detected signally, and after a dreadful up- 
 roar was obliged to run away to avoid the ill-usage of his ex- 
 asperated audience. He pretended to take prussic acid, and 
 challenged anybody to produce the poison, which he engaged 
 to swallow. At last Mr. Walkley, the proprietor of the " Lan- 
 cet," went there with prussic acid, which Chobert refused to 
 take, and then the whole deception came out, and there is an 
 end of it ; but it has made a great deal of noise, taken every- 
 body in, and the fellow has made a great deal of money. It 
 was to have been his last performance, but " tant va la critche 
 A Feau qrfenfin." .... 
 
 February i6th. Last night the English Opera House was 
 burnt down a magnificent fire. I was playing at whist at the 
 " Travellers " with Lord Granville,. Lord Auckland, and Ross, 
 when we saw the whole sky illuminated and a volume of fire 
 rising in the air. We thought it was Covent Garden, and 
 directly set off to the spot. We found the Opera House and 
 several houses in Catherine Street on fire (sixteen houses), 
 and, though it was three in the morning, the streets filled by
 
 108 77 fE GKEVILLE MEMOIRS. [1830 
 
 an immense multitude. Nothing could be more picturesque 
 than the scene, for the flames made it as light as day, and 
 threw a glare upon the strange and motley figures moving 
 about. All the gentility of London was there from Princess 
 Esterhazy's ball and all the clubs ; gentlemen in their fur 
 cloaks, pumps, and velvet waistcoats mixed with objeots like 
 the sans-culottes in the French Revolution men and women 
 half dressed, covered with rags and dirt, some with nightcaps 
 or handkerchiefs round their heads then the soldiers, the 
 firemen, and the engines, and the new police running and 
 bustling, and clearing the way, and clattering along, and all 
 with that intense interest and restless curiosity produced by 
 the event, and which received fresh stimulus at every renewed 
 burst of the flames as they rose in a shower of sparks like 
 gold dust. Poor Arnold lost everything and was not insured. 
 I trust the paraphernalia of the Beefsteak Club perished with 
 the rest, for the enmity I bear that society for the dinner they 
 gave me last year. 
 
 February 2ist. Dined with the Chancellor; Granvilles, 
 Hollands, Moore, Luttrell, Lord Lansdowne, Auckland, and 
 one or two more ; very agreeable. Lord Holland told stories 
 of Lord Thurlow, whom he mimicks, they say, exactly. 
 When Lord Mansfield died, Thurlow said, " I hesitated a 
 long time between Kenyon and Buller. Kenyon was very in- 
 temperate, but Buller was so damned corrupt, and I thought 
 upon the whole that intemperance was a less fault in a judge 
 than corruption, not but what there was a damned deal of cor- 
 ruption in Kenyon's intemperance." Lady Holland and I very 
 friendly ; the first time I have met her in company since our 
 separation (for we have never quarreled). She is mighty anx- 
 ious to get me back, for no other reason than because I won't 
 
 g- 
 
 February 2,T,d. Dined with Lord Bathurst and a dull 
 party ; but after dinner Lady Bathurst began talking about 
 the King, and told me one or two anecdotes. When the ac- 
 count of Lord Liverpool's seizure reached the King at 
 Brighton, Peel was at the Pavilion ; the King got into one of
 
 1830.1 COUNCIL AT WINDSOR. ICX) 
 
 his nervous ways, and sent for him in the middle of the night, 
 desiring he would not dress ; so he went down in his bed- 
 gown and sat by the side of the King's bed. Peel has got an 
 awkward way of thrusting out his hands while he talks, which 
 at length provoked the King so much that he said, " Mr. Peel, 
 it is no use going on so (taking him off), and thrusting out 
 your hands, which is no answer to my question." 
 
 February 2^th. Yesterday at Windsor for a council : the 
 first time I have seen one held in the new rooms of the Castle. 
 They are magnificent and comfortable, the corridor really 
 delightful furnished through its whole length of about 500 
 feet with the luxury of a drawing-room, and full of fine busts 
 and bronzes and entertaining pictures, portraits, and curious 
 antiquities. There were the Chancellor, the Duke, three 
 Secretaries of State, Bathurst, and Melville. The King very 
 blind did not know the Lord Chancellor, who was standing 
 close to him, and took him for Peel ; he would not give up 
 the point, though, for when he found his mistake he attributed 
 it to the light, and appealed to Lord Bathurst, who is stone- 
 blind, and who directly agreed. 
 
 February 2?t/i. Dined at Lord Lansdowne's ; Moore, 
 Rogers, J. Russell, Spring Rice, Charles Kemble, Auckland, 
 and Doherty ; very agreeable, but Rogers was overpowered 
 by numbers and loud voices. Doherty told some good profes- 
 sional stories, and they all agreed that Irish courts of justice 
 afforded the finest materials for novels and romances. The 
 " Mertons " and " Collegians " are both founded on facts ; the 
 stories are in the " New Monthly Magazine ; " they said the 
 author had not made the most of the " Collegians " story. 
 Very odd nervousness of Moore ; he could not tell that story 
 (of Crampton's), which I begged him to do, and which would 
 not have been lugged in neck and shoulders, because every- 
 body was telling just such stories ; he is delighted with my 
 note of it. Charles Kemble talked of his daughter and her 
 success said she was twenty, and that she had once seen 
 Mrs. Siddons in " Lady Randolph " when she was seven years 
 old. She was so affected in "Mrs. Beverley" that he was
 
 1 10 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1830. 
 
 obliged to carry her into her dressing-room, where she 
 screamed for five minutes ; the last scream (when she throws 
 herself on his body) was involuntary, not in the part, and she 
 had not intended it, but could not resist the impulse. She 
 likes Jii.iet the best of her parts. 
 
 February i&th. Dined yesterday with Lord Stanhope ; 
 Murray the bookseller (who published " Belisarius "), Wilkie 
 the painter, and Lord Strangford ; nobody else of note. Wil- 
 kie appears stern, and might pass for mad ; he said very lit- 
 tle. Murray chattered incessantly ; talked to me a great deal 
 about Moore, who would have been mightily provoked if he 
 had heard him. An odd dinner, not agreeable, though Lord 
 Stanhope is amusing, so strange in his appearance, so ultra- 
 Tory and anti-Liberal in his politics, full of information and a 
 good deal of drollery. Murray told me that Moore is going 
 to write a "Life of Petrarch." Croker would have written 
 Lawrence's Life, if Campell [the poet] had not seized the task 
 before anybody else thought of laying hold of it. He has 
 circulated a command that all persons who have anything to 
 communicate will send their letters to his secretary, and not 
 to him. 
 
 Paris, March %th. It will be difficult to get away from 
 this place if I don't go at once ; the plot thickens, and I am in 
 great danger of dawdling on. Yesterday morning I walked 
 about, visiting, and then went through the Tuileries and the 
 Carrousel. The gardens were full of well-dressed and good- 
 looking people, and the day so fine that it was a glorious sight. 
 The King is, after all, hardly master of his own palace, for 
 the people may swarm like bees all around and through it, and 
 he is the only man in Paris who cannot go into the gardens. 
 Dined with Standish, Brooke Greville, Madame Alfred de 
 Noailles and her daughter, and then went to Madame de Fla- 
 hault's to see the world and hear politics. After all, nobody 
 has an idea how things will turn out or what are Polignac's 
 intentions or his resources. Lord Stuart x told me that he 
 knew nothing, but that when he saw all the ministers perfectly 
 
 1 Lord Stuart de Rothesay was then British Ambassador in Paris.
 
 1850.] FRENCH POLITICS. Ill 
 
 calm and satisfied, and heard them constantly say all would 
 be well, although all France and a clear majority in both 
 Chambers seemed to be against them, he could not help think- 
 ing they must have some reason for such confidence, and 
 something in reserve, of which people were not aware. Lady 
 Keith, 1 with whom I had a long talk, told me that she did not 
 believe it possible they could stand, that there was no rev- 
 olutionary spirit abroad, but a long determination to provide 
 for the stability of their institutions, a disgust at the obstinacy 
 and pretensions of the King, and a desire to substitute the 
 Orleans for the reigning branch, which was becoming very 
 general ; that Polignac is wholly ignorant of France, and will 
 not listen to the opinions of those who could enlighten him. 
 It is supposed that the King is determined to push matters to 
 extremity, to try the Chambers, and if his ministry are beaten 
 to dissolve them and govern par ordonnance du Rot, then to 
 try and influence the elections and obtain a Chamber more 
 favorable than the present. Somebody told her the other day 
 of a conversation which Polignac had recently had with the 
 King, in which his Majesty said to him, " Jules, est-ce que 
 vous m'etes tres deVoue" ? " " Mais oui, Sire ; pouvez-vous en 
 douter ? " "Jusqu'k aller sur 1'echafaud?" "Mais oui, Sire, 
 s'il le faut." " Alors tout ira bien." It is thought that he has 
 got into his head the old saying that if Louis XVI. had got 
 upon horseback he could have arrested the progress of the 
 Revolution a piece of nonsense, fit only for a man " qui rfa 
 rien oubhe ni rien appris." It is supposed the Address will be 
 carried against the government by about 250 to 130. (It was 
 221 to 180. has a tabatiere Warin of that day, with the 
 names of the 221 on the lid.) All the names presented to the 
 King yesterday for the presidency are obnoxious to him, but 
 he named Royer Collard, who had twice as many votes as 
 any of the others. It was remarked at the seance royale that 
 the King dropped his hat and that the Duke of Orleans picked 
 it up, and they always make a great deal of these trifles. The 
 
 1 Married to Count de Flahault ; in her own right Baroness Keith and Nairn. She 
 died in 1867.
 
 112 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1830. 
 
 Duke of Orleans is, however, very well with the court, and will 
 not stir let what will happen, though he probably feels like 
 Macbeth before the murder of Duncan 
 
 " If chance will have me king, why let chance crown me 
 Without my stir." 
 
 March gth. Dined with M. de Flahault ; met M. de 
 Talleyrand, Madame de Dino, General Se"bastiani, M. Bertin 
 de Vaux, Due de Broglie, and Montrond. Sdbastiani and 
 Bertin de Vaux are Deputies, and all violent Oppositionists. 
 After dinner M. de Lescure, another man, and the young Due 
 de Valenqay, Madame de Dino's son, came in. They talked 
 politics all the time, and it was curious enough to me. Bertin 
 is the sort of man in appearance that Tierney was, and shrewd 
 like him ; he is brother to the editor, and principal manager 
 himself, of the "Journal des Ddbats." Sdbastiani is slow and 
 pompous. The Due de Broglie is one of the best men in 
 France. They all agreed that the government cannot stand. 
 Talleyrand is as much against it as any of them. Se"bastiani 
 told me they should have 280 against 130. Talleyrand said 
 that it was quite impossible to predict what might be the re- 
 sult of this contest (if the court pushed matters to extremity) 
 both to France and Europe, and that it was astonishing sur- 
 rounding nations, and particularly England, did not see how 
 deeply they were interested in the event. He said of us, 
 " Vous avez plus d argent que de credit." He looks horridly 
 old, but seems vigorous enough and alive to everything. After 
 dinner they all put their heads together and chattered politics 
 as fast as they could. Madame de Flahault is more violent 
 than her husband, and her house is the resort of all the 
 Liberal party. Went afterwards to the opera and saw Maret, 
 the Due de Bassano, a stupid, elderly, bourgeois looking man, 
 with two very pretty daughters. The battle is to begin in 
 the Chamber on Saturday or Monday on the Address. Talley- 
 rand told me that the next three weeks would be the most 
 important of any period since the Restoration. It is in agita- 
 tion to deprive him of his place of grand chambellan.
 
 1830.] LES ECHELLES DE SAVOIE. 113 
 
 Susa, March \$th, 9 o'clock. Just arrived at this place at 
 the foot of Mont Cenis. Left Paris on the nth, at twelve 
 o'clock at night. On the last day, Montrond made a dinner 
 for me at a club to see M. des Chapelles play at whist. I 
 saw it, but was no wiser ; but I conclude he plays very well, 
 for he always wins, is not suspected of cheating, and excels 
 at all other games. At twelve I got into my carriage, and 
 (only stopping an hour and a half for two breakfasts) got to 
 Lyons in forty-eight hours and a half. Journey not disagree- 
 able, and roads much better than I expected, particularly 
 after Ma^on, when they became as good as in England ; but 
 the country presents the same sterile, uninteresting ap- 
 pearance as that between Calais and Paris no hedges, no 
 trees, except tall, stupid-looking poplars, and no chateaux or 
 farm-houses. I am at a loss to know why a country should 
 look so ill which I do not believe is either barren or ill cul- 
 tivated. Lyons is a magnificent town. It was dark when I 
 arrived, or rather moonlight, but I could see that the quay we 
 came along was fine, and yesterday morning I walked about 
 for an hour and was struck with the grandeur of the place ; it 
 is like a great and magnificent Bath ; but I had not time to 
 see much of it, and, with beautiful weather, I set off at ten 
 o'clock. The mountains (les Echelles de Savoie) appear al- 
 most directly in the distance, but it was long before I could 
 make out whether they were clouds or mountains. 
 
 After crossing the Pont de Beauvoisin we began to mount 
 the Echelles, which I did on foot, and I never shall forget the 
 first impression made upon me by the mountain scenery. It 
 first burst upon me at a turn of the road one huge perpen- 
 dicular rock above me, a deep ravine with a torrent rushing 
 down, and a mountain covered with pines and ilexes on th *. 
 other side, and in front another vast rock which was shining in 
 the reflected light of the setting sun. I never shall forget it. 
 How I turned round and round, afraid to miss a particle of the 
 glorious scene. It was the liveliest impression because it was 
 the first. I walked nearly to the other post with the most ex- 
 quisite pleasure, but it was dark by the time I got to La Grotta.
 
 114 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1830. 
 
 I went on, however, all night, very unhappy at the idea of los- 
 ing a great deal of this scenery, but consoled by the reflection 
 that there was plenty left. As soon as it was light I found 
 myself in the middle of the mountains (the Lower Alps), and 
 from thence I proceeded across the Mont Cenis. Though not 
 the finest pass, to me, who had never seen anything like it, it 
 appeared perfectly beautiful, every turn in the road presenting 
 a new combination of Alpine magnificence. Nothing is more 
 striking than the patches of cultivation in the midst of the tre- 
 mendous rocks and precipices, and in one or two spots there 
 were plots of grass and evergreens, like an English shrubbery, 
 at the foot of enormous mountains covered with snow. There 
 was not a breath of air in these valleys, and the sun was shin- 
 ing in unclouded brightness, so that there was all the atmos- 
 phere of summer below with all the livery of winter above. 
 
 " The altitude of some tall crag 
 That is the eagle's birthplace, or some peak 
 Familiar with forgotten years, that shows, 
 Inscribed as with the silence of the thought 
 Upon its bleak and visionary sides, 
 The history of many a winter storm 
 Or obscure record of the path of fire. 
 
 " There the sun himself 
 At the calm close of summer's longest day 
 Rests his substantial orb ; between those heights, 
 And on the top of either pinnacle, 
 More keenly than elsewhere in night's blue vault 
 Sparkle the stars, as of their station proud : 
 Thoughts are not busier in the mind of man 
 Than the mute agents stirring there, alone 
 Here do I sit and watch." 
 
 In one place, too, I remarked high up on the side of the 
 rugged and barren mountain two or three cottages, to arrive 
 at which steps had been cut in the rock. No sign of vegeta- 
 tion was near, so exactly the description of Goldsmith : 
 
 " Dear is that shed to which their souls conform, 
 And dear that hill that lifts them to the storm " 
 
 In another place there was a cluster of houses and a church 
 newly built. Not far from Lans-le-Bourg (at the foot of Mont
 
 1830.] MONT CENIS. 1 1 5 
 
 Cenis) is a very strong fort, built by the King of Sardinia, 
 which commands the road. It has a fine effect perched upon 
 a rock, and apparently unapproachable. A soldier was pacing 
 the battlement, and his figure gave life to the scene and ex- 
 hibited the immensity of the surrounding objects, so minute 
 did he appear. At Lans-le-Bourg they put four horses and 
 two mules to my carriage, but I took my courier's horse and 
 set off to ride up the mountain with a guide who would insist 
 upon going with me, and who proposed to take me up a much 
 shorter way by the old road, which, however, I declined ; he 
 was on foot, and made a short cut up the hill while I rode by 
 the road, which winds in several turns up the mountain. 
 Fired with mountainous zeal, I had a mind to try one of these 
 short cuts, and giving my horse to Paolo (my valet de chambre), 
 set off with my guide to climb the next intervening ascent ; 
 but I soon found that I had better have stuck to my horse, for 
 the immensity of the surrounding objects had deceived me as 
 to the distance, and the ground was so steep and slippery that, 
 unprepared as I was for such an attempt, I could not keep my 
 footing. When about half-way up, I looked ruefully round 
 and saw steeps above and below covered with ice and snow 
 and loose earth. I could not get back, and did not know how 
 to get on. I felt like the man who went up in a balloon, 
 and when a mile in the air wanted to be let out. My feelings 
 were very like what Johnson describes at Hawkestone in his 
 tour in Wales. " He that mounts the precipices at won- 
 ders how he came thither, and doubts how he shall return ; 
 his walk is an adventure and his departure an escape. He has 
 not the tranquillity, but the horrors of solitude a kind of tur- 
 bulent pleasure between fright and admiration." My guide, 
 fortunately, was active and strong, and properly shod ; so he 
 went first, making steps for me in the snow, into which I put 
 my feet after his, while with one hand I grasped the tail of his 
 blue frock and with the other seized bits of twig or anything I 
 could lay hold of ; and in this ludicrous way, scrambling and 
 clambering, hot and out of breath, to my great joy I at last 
 got to the road, and for the rest of the ascent contented myself
 
 Il6 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1830. 
 
 with my post-horse, who had a set of bells jingling at his head, 
 and was a sorry beast enpugh. I was never weary, however, 
 of admiring the scenery. The guide told me he had often 
 seen Napoleon when he was crossing the mountain, and that 
 he remembered his being caught in a tormentoj- when his life 
 was saved by two young Savoyards, who took him on their 
 backs and carried him to a rifugio? He asked them if they 
 were married, and finding ihey were not, inquired how much 
 was enough to marry upon in that country, and then gave them 
 the requisite sum, and settled pensions of 600 francs on each 
 of them. One is dead, the other still receives it. As I got 
 near the top of the mountain, the road, which had hitherto 
 been excellent, became execrable, and the cold intense. I had 
 left summer below and found winter above. I looked in vain 
 for the chamois, hares, wolves, and bears, all of which I was 
 told are found there. At last I arrived at the summit, and 
 found at the inn a friar, the only inhabitant of the Hospice, 
 who hearing me say I would go there (as my carriage was not 
 yet come), offered to go with me ; he was young, fat, rosy, 
 jolly, and dirty, dressed in a black robe with a travelling-cap 
 on his head, appeared quick and intelligent, and spoke French 
 and Italian. He took me over the Hospice, which is now 
 quite empty, and showed me two very decently furnished 
 rooms which the Emperor Napoleon used to occupy, and two 
 inferior apartments which had been appropriated to the Em- 
 press Maria Louisa. The N.'s on the grille of the door had 
 been changed for V. E.'s (Victor Emmanuel) and M. T.'s 
 (Maria Theresa), and frightful pictures of the Sardinian King 
 and Queen have replaced the imperial portraits. All sorts of 
 distinguished people have slept there en passant, and do still 
 when compelled ".o spend the night on Mont Cenis. He 
 offered to lodge and feed me, but I declined. I told him I 
 was glad to see Napoleon's bedroom, as I took an interest in 
 
 1 A tormen'o (most appropriate name) is a tempest of wind and sleet and snow 
 exceedingly dangerous to those who are met by it. 
 
 ! A rifitgio is a sort of cabin of whicli there are several built at certain distances all 
 the way up the mountain, where travellers may take shelter.
 
 1830.] MARENGO. 1 1 7 
 
 everything which related to that great man, at which he seemed 
 extremely pleased, and said, "Aft, monsieur, vous etes done 
 coinme moi." I dined at the inn (a very bad one) on some 
 trout which they got for me from the Hospice very fine fish, 
 but very ill dressed. The sun was setting by the time I set 
 off; it was dusk when I got half-way down the descent, and 
 dark before I had reached the first stage. When half-way 
 down the descent, the last rays of the sun were still gilding 
 the tops of the crags above, and the contrast between that 
 light above and the darkness below was very fine. From what 
 I saw of it, and from what I guess, straining my eyes into the 
 darkness to catch the dim and indistinct shapes of the mount- 
 ains, the Italian side is the finest the most \\ild and savage 
 and with more variety. On the French side you are always 
 on the breast of the same mountain, but on the Italian side you 
 wind along different rocks, always hanging over a precipice, 
 with huge black, snow-topped crags frowning from the other 
 ridge. I was quite unhappy not to see it. Altogether I never 
 shall forget the pleasure of the two days' journey and the first 
 sight of the Alps, exceeding the expectations I had formed, 
 and for years I have enjoyed nothing so much. The descent 
 (at the beginning of which, by the bye, I was very nearly over- 
 turned) only ends at this place, where I found a tolerable room 
 and a good fire, but the catneriere stinking so abominably of 
 garlic that he impregnated the whole apartment. 
 
 Genoa, March \f>th. Got on so quick from Turin that I 
 went to Alessandria that night, and set off at half-past six 
 yesterday morning. Crossed the field of battle of Marengo, 
 a boundless plain (now thickly studded with trees and houses), 
 and saw the spot where Desaix was killed. The bridge over 
 the Bormida which Melas crossed to attack the French army 
 is gone, but another has been built near it. The Austrians or 
 Sardinians have taken down the column which was erected to 
 the memory of Desaix on the spot where he fell ; they might 
 as well have left it, for the place will always be celebrated, 
 though they only did as the French had done before. After
 
 Il8 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1830 
 
 the battle of Jena they took down the column of Rossbach, 1 
 but that was erected to commemorate the victory, and this the 
 death, of the hero. I feel like Johnson "far from me and 
 my friends be that frigid philosophy which can make us pass 
 unmoved over any scenes which have been consecrated by 
 virtue, by valor, or by wisdom" and I strained the eyes of 
 my imagination to see all the tumult of this famous battle, in 
 which Bonaparte had been actually defeated, yet (one can 
 hardly now tell how) was in the end completely victorious. 
 This pillar might have been left, too, as a striking memorial 
 of the rapid vicissitudes of fortune : the removal of it has been 
 here so quick, and at Rossbach so tardy, a reparation of na- 
 tional honor. 
 
 Evening. Passed the whole day seeing sights. Called on 
 Madame Durazzo, and went with her and her niece, Madame 
 Ferrari, to the King's palace, formerly a Durazzo palace. 
 Like the others, a fine house, full of painting and gilding, and 
 with a terrace of black and white marble commanding a view 
 of the sea. The finest picture is a Paul Veronese of a Mag- 
 dalen with our Saviour. The King and Queen sleep together, 
 and on each side of the royal bed there is an assortment of 
 ivory palms, crucifixes, boxes for holy water, and other spirit- 
 ual guards for their souls. For the comfort of their bodies he 
 has had a machine made like a car, which is drawn up by a 
 chain from the bottom to the top of the house ; it holds about 
 six people, who can be at pleasure elevated to any story, and 
 at each landing-place there is a contrivance to let them in and 
 out. From thence to the Brignole Palace (called the Palazzo 
 Rosso), where I met M. and Madame de Brignole, who were 
 very civil, and ordered a scientific footman to show us the 
 pictures. They are numerous and excellent, but we could 
 only take a cursory look at them : the best are the Vandykes, 
 particularly a Christ and a portrait of one of the Brignole s on 
 horseback, and a beautiful Carlo Dolce, a small bleeding 
 Christ. I saw the churches San Stefano, Annunziata, the 
 
 1 The battle of Rossbach was gained by Frederick the Great over the French and 
 Austrians in 1757.
 
 1830.] CATHOLICISM. 119 
 
 Duomo, San Ambrosio, San Cyro. There are two splendid 
 pictures in the Ambrosio, a Guido and a Rubens ; the Martyr- 
 dom in the San Stefano, by Julio Romano and Raphael, went 
 to Paris and was brought back in 1814. The churches have a 
 profusion of marble, and gilding, and frescoes ; the Duomo is 
 of black and white marble, of mixed architecture, and highly 
 ornamented all stinking to a degree that was perfectly in- 
 tolerable, and the same thing whether empty or full ; it is the 
 smell of stale incense mixed with garlic and human odor, 
 horrible combination of poisonous exhalations. I must say ? 
 as everybody has before remarked, that there is something 
 highly edifying in the appearance of devotion which belongs 
 to the Catholic religion ; the churches are always open, and, 
 go into them when you will, you see men and women kneeling 
 and praying before this or that altar, absorbed in their occu- 
 pation, and who must have been led there by some devotional 
 feeling. This seems more accordant with the spirit and 
 essence of religion than to have the churches, as ours are, 
 opened like theatres at stated hours and days for the perform- 
 ance of a long service, at the end of which the audience is 
 turned out and the doors are locked till the next representa- 
 tion. Then the Catholic religion makes no distinctions be- 
 tween poverty and wealth no pews for the aristocracy well 
 warmed and furnished, or seats set apart for the rich and well 
 dressed ; here the church is open to all, and the beggar in 
 rags comes and takes his place by the side of the lady in silks, 
 and both kneel on the same pavement, for the moment at 
 least, and in that place reduced to the same level. 
 
 I saw the Ducal Palace, where there are two very fine halls, 1 
 the old Hall of Audience and the Hall of Council, the latter 
 150 by 57 feet; and the Doria Palace, delightfully situated 
 with a garden and fine fountain, and a curious old gallery 
 opening upon a marble terrace, richly painted, gilt and carved, 
 though now decayed. Here the Emperor Napoleon lived 
 
 1 They are left just in the state in which they were in the time of the Republic ; 
 the balustrade still surrounds the elevated platform on which the throne of the Doge 
 was placed.
 
 120 THE GREVILLR MEMOIRS. [1850. 
 
 when he was at Genoa, preferring Andrew Doria's palace to 
 a better lodging : he had some poetry in his ambition after all. 
 Lastly to the Albergo dei Poveri, 1 a noble institution, built by 
 a Brignole and enriched by repeated benefactions ; like all the 
 edifices of the old Genoese, vast and of fine proportions. The 
 great staircase and hall are adorned with colossal statues of 
 its benefactors (among whom are many Durazzos), and the 
 sums that they gave or bequeathed are commemorated on the 
 pedestals. In the chapel is a piece of sculpture by Michael 
 Angelo, a dead Christ and Virgin (only heads), and an altar- 
 piece by Puget. Branching out from the chapel are two vast 
 chambers, lofty, airy, and light, one for the men, the other for 
 the women. About 800 men and 1,200 or 1,300 women are 
 supported here. Many of the nobles are said to be rich 
 Ferrari, Brignole, Durazzo, and Pallavicini particularly. I 
 forgot to mention the chapel and tomb of Andrew Doria ; the 
 chapel he built himself ; his body, arrayed in princely robes, 
 lies in the vault. There is a Latin inscription on the chapel, 
 signifying that he stood by the country in the days of her 
 affliction. It is a pretty little chapel full of painting and gild- 
 ing. In the early part of the Revolution the tomb narrowly 
 escaped destruction, but it was saved by the solidity of its 
 materials. I gave the man who showed me this tomb a franc, 
 and he kissed my hand in a transport of gratitude. 
 
 March -2^d. Yesterday morning breakfasted with Lord 
 
 1 The Albergo dei Poveri and the Scoghetti Gardens pleased me more that any- 
 thing I saw in Genoa. I am sorry I did not see the Sordi e Muti, which is admirably 
 conducted, and where the pupils by all accounts perform wonders. The Albergo is 
 managed by a committee consisting of the principal nobles in the town. The Sco- 
 ghetti Gardens are delightfully laid out ; there is a shrubbery of evergreens with a 
 cascade, and a summer-house paved with tiles two or three rooms in it, and a hot 
 and cold bath. It is astonishing how they cherish the memory of " Lord Bentinck." l 
 I heard of him in various parts of the town, particularly here, as he lived in the house 
 when first he came to Genoa. The gardens command a fine view of the city, the sea, 
 and the mountains. The saloon in the Serra is only a very splendid room, glittering 
 with glass, and gold, and lapis lazuli ; by no means deserves to be called, as k is by 
 Forsyth, the finest saloon in Europe. It is not very large, and not much more gilt 
 than Crockford's drawing-room, but looks cleaner, though it has been done these 
 seventy years or more. 
 
 1 Lord William Bentinck was Mr. Greville's uncle.
 
 1830. SIGHTSEEING. 121 
 
 Normanby, who has got a house extending 200 feet in front, 
 court, garden, and stables for about 28o/. a year, everything 
 else cheap in proportion, and upon 2,ooo/. a year a man may 
 live luxuriously. His house was originally fitted up for the 
 Pretender, and C. R.'s are still to be seen all over the place. 
 Called on Lord Burghersh, 1 who was at breakfast the table 
 covered with manuscript music, a pianoforte, two fiddles, and a 
 fiddler in the room. He was full of composition and getting 
 up his opera of " Phaedra " for to-morrow night. The Em- 
 bassy is the seat of the Arts, for Lady Burghersh has received 
 the gift of painting as if by inspiration, and she was in a brown 
 robe in the midst of oils, and brushes, and canvas ; and a 
 model was in attendance, some part of whose person was to 
 be introduced into a fancy piece. She copies pictures in the 
 Gallery, and really extraordinary well if it be true that till a 
 year ago she had never had a brush in her hand, and that she 
 is still quite ignorant of drawing. 
 
 Went into two or three of the churches, then to the Gallery, 
 and sat for half an hour in the Tribune, but could not work 
 myself into a proper enthusiasm for the "Venus," whose 
 head is too small and ankles too thick, but they say the more 
 I see her the more I shall like her. I prefer the " Wrestlers," 
 and the head of the " Remontleur " is the only good head I 
 have seen, the only one with expression. " Niobe " is fine, 
 but I can't bear her children, except one. Then to the Casine 
 on horseback to see the town and the world : it seems a very 
 enjoyable place. This morning again dropped into some of 
 the churches, after which I have always a hankering, though 
 there is great sameness in them, but I have a childish liking 
 for Catholic pomp. The fine things are lost amidst a heap of 
 rubbish, but there is no lack of marble, and painting, and 
 gilding in most of them. They are going on with the Medici 
 Chapel, on which millions have been wasted and more is go- 
 ing after, for the Grand Duke is gradually finishing the work. 
 The profusion of marble is immense, and very fine and curi- 
 
 1 Lord Burghersh, afterwards Earl of Westmoreland, was then British Minister at 
 Florence.
 
 122 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1830 
 
 ous if examined in detail ; the precious stones are hardly 
 seen, and when they are, not to be recognized as such. To 
 the Pitti Palace, of which one part is under repair and not 
 visible, but I saw most of the best pictures. I like pictures 
 better than statues. It is a beautiful palace, and well fur- 
 nished for show. Nobody knows what Vandyke was without 
 coming here. To the Gabinetto Fisico, and saw all the wax- 
 works, the progress of gestation, and the representation of 
 the plague, incomparably clever and well executed. I saw 
 nothing disgusting in the wax-works in the museum, which 
 many people are so squeamish about. 
 
 Before dinner, yesterday, called upon Thorwaldsen, who was 
 in the inn, to tell him Lord Gower likes his " Ganymede." 
 He was mighty polite, squeezed my hand, and reconducted 
 me to my own door. At night went to the opera and heard 
 David and Grisi in " Ricciardo e Zoraida." She is like Pasta 
 in face and figure, but much handsomer, though with less ex- 
 pression. She is only eighteen. He has lost much of his 
 voice, and embroiders to make up for it, but every now and 
 then he appears to find it again, and his taste and expression 
 are exquisite. To-night at a child's ball at Lady Williamson's, 
 where I was introduced to Lord Cochrane, and had a great 
 deal of talk with him ; told him I thought things would ex- 
 plode at last in England, which he concurred in, and seemed 
 to like the idea of it, in which we differ, owing probably to 
 the difference of our positions ; he has nothing, and I every- 
 thing, to lose by such an event. 
 
 Rome, March 30^. This morning I awoke very early, and 
 could not rest till I had seen St. Peter's ; so set off in a 
 hackney coach, drove by the Piazza della Colonna and the 
 Castle of St. Angelo (which burst upon me unexpectedly as I 
 turned on the bridge), and got out as soon as St. Peter's was 
 in sight. My first feeling was disappointment, but as I ad- 
 vanced towards the obelisk, with the fountains on each side, 
 and found myself in that ocean of space with all the grand 
 objects around, delight and admiration succeeded. As I 
 walked along the piazza and then entered the church, I felt
 
 1830.] ROME. 123 
 
 that sort of breathless bewilderment which was produced in 
 some degree by the first sight of the Alps. Much as I ex- 
 pected I was not disappointed. St. Peter's sets criticism at 
 defiance ; nor can I conceive how anybody can do anything 
 but admire and wonder there, till time and familiarity with it's 
 glories shall have subjected the imagination to the judgment. 
 I then came home and went with Morier to take a cursory 
 view of the city and blunt the edge of curiosity. In about 
 five hours I galloped over the Forum, Coliseum, Pantheon, 
 St. John Lateran, Santa Maria Maggiore, the Vatican, and sev- 
 eral arches and obelisks. I cannot tell which produced the 
 greatest impression, St. Peter's or the Coliseum ; but if I 
 might only have seen one it should be the Coliseum, for there 
 can be nothing of the same kind besides. 1 
 
 They only who have seen Rome can have an idea of the 
 grandeur of it and of the wonders it contains, the treasures 
 of art and the records of antiquity. Of course I had the 
 same general idea of there being much to see that others 
 have, but was far from being prepared for the reality, which 
 exceeds my most sanguine expectations. The Vatican alone 
 would require years to be examined as it deserves. It is re- 
 markable, however, how the pleasure of the imagination aris- 
 ing from antiquities depends upon their accidents. The busts, 
 statues, columns, tombs, and fragments of all sorts are heaped 
 together in such profusion at the Vatican that the eyes ache 
 at them, the senses are bewildered, and we regard them (with 
 some exceptions) almost exclusively as objects of art, and do 
 not feel the interest which, separately, they might inspire by 
 their connection with remote ages, whereas there is scarcely 
 one of those, if it were now to be discovered, that would not 
 excite the greatest curiosity, and be, in the midst of the ruins 
 to which it belongs, an object, of far greater interest than a 
 finer production which had taken its splendid but frigid posi- 
 tion in this collection. We went to the Sistine Chapel, and 
 
 1 Of the same kind there is, at Pompeii, but not near so fine ; more perfect as a 
 specimen, far less beautiful as an object. And the amphitheatre at Verona, but that 
 is very inferior.
 
 124 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1830. 
 
 saw Michael Angelo's frescoes, which Sir Joshua Reynolds 
 says are the finest paintings in the world, and which the un- 
 learned call great rude daubs. I do not pretend to the ca- 
 pacity of appreciating their merits, but was very much struck 
 with the ease, and grace, and majesty of some of the figures : 
 it was, however, too dark to see the " Last Judgment." I 
 ended by St. Peter's again, where there were many devout 
 Catholics praying round the illuminated tomb of the Apostle, 
 and many foolish English poking into it to stare and ask 
 questions, the answers to which they did not understand. I 
 have but one fault to find, and that is with the Glory, a miser- 
 able transparency in the great window opposite the entrance, 
 throwing a yellow light upon the Dove, which has the most 
 paltry effect, and is utterly unworthy of the grandeur of such 
 a place. 
 
 April ist. Yesterday morning at nine o'clock went with 
 Edward Cheney and George Hamilton to Frascati to dine 
 with Henry Fox, who has got a villa there. As soon as we 
 arrived, Cheney and I walked over to Grotta Ferrata to see 
 Domenichino's frescoes. The convent is about a mile and a 
 half off, large, formerly rich, full of monks, and a fortress ; 
 also the scene of various miracles performed by St. Nilo, the 
 founder and patron saint ; now tenanted by a few beggarly 
 friars, and part of it let to Prince Gagarin, the Russian min- 
 ister, as a villa. Domenichino sought and found an asylum 
 there in consequence of some crime he had committed or debt 
 he had incurred ; he stayed there two years, and in return for 
 the hospitality of the monks adorned their chapel with (some 
 think) the finest frescoes in the world. They are splendid 
 pictures, and all painted by his own hand. 
 
 At dinner we had Hortense, the ex-Queen of Holland, her 
 son, Prince Louis Napoleon, her lady in waiting, .Lady Sand- 
 wich and her daughter, Cheney, Hamilton, Lord Lovaine, and 
 Fordwich. We dined in the garden, but there was too much 
 wind for a fete champetre. Hortense is not near so ugly as I 
 expected, very unaffected and gay, and gives herself no royal 
 airs. The only difference between her and anybody else was
 
 1830.] ROME. 125 
 
 that, after dinner, when she rose from table, her own servant 
 presented her with a finger-glass and water, which nobody 
 else had. She is called Madame. 
 
 We returned by moonlight, and though I did not go into 
 the Coliseum, because the moon was not full enough, it looked 
 fine, and the light shining through the lower arches had a 
 beautiful effect. This morning went a long round of sights 
 Caesar's Palace, of which there are no remains but fragments 
 of walls ; it really does "grovel on earth in indistinct decay." 
 Caracalla's Baths, which are stupendous ; the crtstode showed 
 us a room in which were heaped up bits of marble of all sorts 
 and sizes, fragments of columns and friezes ; and he told us 
 that they never excavated without finding something. And 
 Titus's Baths, less magnificent but equally curious, because 
 they contain the remains of the Golden House of Nero, on 
 which Titus built his Thermae. The ruins are, in fact, part of 
 the Golden House, for the Thermae have been altogether 
 destroyed. Then to the Capitol, Forum, Temple of Vesta, 
 Fortuna Virilis, and other places with Morier. The Capitol 
 contains an interesting collection of busts and statues of all 
 the emperors, most famous characters of ancient Rome and 
 Greece, together with various magnificent objects of art. By 
 dint of repeatedly seeing their effigies, one becomes ac- 
 quainted with the faces of these worthies. These tastes 
 grow upon one strangely at Rome, and there is a sort of ele- 
 vation arising from this silent intercourse with the " great of 
 old." 
 
 " Proud names, who once the reins of empire held, 
 In arms who triumphed, or in arts excelled, 
 Chiefs graced with scars, and prodigal of blood, 
 Stern patriots who for sacred freedom stood, 
 Just men by whom impartial laws were given 
 And saints who taught, and led the way to heaven." 
 
 TICKELL. 
 
 There has been a wrangle about the Borghese Gardens, 
 which the prince ordered to be shut up ; the government re- 
 monstrated, and a correspondence ensued which ended in 
 their being reopened to the public, whom he has no right to
 
 126 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1830. 
 
 exclude. Paul V. gave the Borghese Gardens to his nephew 
 (Aldobrandini), with a condition that they should always be 
 open to the public, which they have been from then till now. 
 They were a part of the Cenci property, which was immense, 
 and confiscated by an enormous piece of injustice. 
 
 April 4//fc. To the Sistine Chapel for the ceremonies of 
 Palm Sunday ; we got into the body of the chapel, not with- 
 out difficulty ; but we saw M. de la Ferrronays in his box, 
 and he let us in (Morier and me). It was only on a third at- 
 tempt I could get there, for twice the Papal halberdiers thrust 
 me back, and I find since it is lucky they did not do worse ; 
 for upon some occasion one of them knocked a cardinal's eye 
 out, and when he found who he was, begged his pardon, and 
 said he had taken him for a bishop. Here I had a fine oppor- 
 tunity of seeing the frescoes, but they are covered with dirt, 
 the " Last Judgment " neither distinguishable nor intelligible 
 to me. The figures on the ceiling and walls are very grand 
 even to my ignorance. The music (all vocal) beautiful, the 
 service harmoniously chanted, and the responsive bursts of 
 the chorus sublime. The cardinals appeared a wretched set 
 of old twaddlers, all but about three in extreme decrepitude 
 Odescalchi, who is young and a good preacher, Gregorio, 
 Capellari [afterwards Pope Gregory XVI.]. On seeing them, 
 and knowing that the sovereign is elected by and from them, 
 nobody can wonder that the country is so miserably governed. 
 These old creatures, on the demise of a Pope, are as full of 
 ambition and intrigue as in the high and palmy days of the 
 Papal power. Rome and its territory are certainly worth pos- 
 sessing, though the Pontifical authority is so shorn of its 
 beams ; but the fact is that the man who is elected does not 
 always govern the country, 1 and he is condemned to a life of 
 privation and seclusion. An able or influential cardinal is sel- 
 
 1 This, from what I have heard since, was not true of the last Pope, Leo XII., 
 who was an odious, tyrannical bigot, but a man of activity, talent, and strength of 
 mind, a good man of business, and his own minister. He was detested here, and 
 there are many stories of his violent exertions of authority. He was a sort of bas- 
 tard Sixtus V., but at an immense distance from that great man, " following him of 
 old, with steps unequal/' He used, however, to interfere with the private transac- 
 tions of society, and banish and imprison people even of high rank, for immorality.
 
 1830.] CARDINAL A LEANT. I2/ 
 
 dom elected. The parties in the conclave usually end by a 
 compromise, and agree to elect some cardinal without weight 
 or influence, and there are not now any Sixtus the Fifths to 
 make such an arrangement hazardous. Austria, Spain, and 
 France have all vetos, and Portugal claims and exercises one 
 when she can. To this degradation Rome is now obliged to 
 submit. The most influential of the cardinals is Albani. 1 At 
 the last election the Papal crown was offered to Cardinal 
 Caprara, but Albani stipulated that he should make him sec- 
 retary of state ; Caprara refused to promise, and Albani pro- 
 cured the election of the present Pope (who did not desire or 
 expect the elevation), became secretary of state (being eighty), 
 and governs the country. He is rich and stingy. The great 
 powers still watch the proceedings of the conclave with jeal- 
 ousy ; and though it is difficult to conceive how the Pope can 
 assist any one of them to the detriment of another, an ambas- 
 sador will put his veto upon any cardinal whom he thinks un- 
 favorable to his nation ; this produces all sorts of trickery, for 
 when the conclave want to elect a man who is obnoxious to 
 Austria, for example, they choose another whom they think is 
 equally so (but whom they do not really wish to elect), that the 
 veto may be expended upon him, for each government has 
 one veto only. The last veto absolutely put was on Cardi- 
 nal , who was elected on the death of Pius VII. He had 
 
 behaved very rudely to the Empress Maria Louisa w;hen she 
 took refuge in the north of Italy after the downfall of Napo- 
 leon, thinking it was a good moment to bully the abdicated 
 Emperor's wife. She complained to her father, who promised 
 her the Cardinal never should be Pope. He was a young and 
 ambitious man, and the veto killed him with vexation and 
 disappointment. 
 
 Went and walked about St. Peter's and was surprised to 
 rind how very little longer it is than St. Paul's. To the Far- 
 
 1 Albani holds the Austrian veto, and is supported by her authority. But I have 
 heard that since Clement XI., who was an Albani, there has always been a powerful 
 Albani faction in the conclave. This cardinal is enormously rich and the head of 
 his house. The Duke of Modena is his nephew, and it is generally thought will be 
 his heir.
 
 128 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1830. 
 
 nese Palace, built by Paul III. out of the ruins of the Coli- 
 seum, which now, with all the Farnese property, belongs to 
 the King of Naples, and is consequently going to decay. It 
 got into his hands by the marriage of a King of Naples with 
 the last heiress of the house of Farnese. The Neapolitan 
 property here consists of the Farnese and Farnesina Palaces, 
 the Orti Farnesiani, and the Villa Madama, all in a wretched 
 state ; and the Orti, in which there are probably great re- 
 mains, they will not allow to be excavated. Many of the fine 
 things are gone to Naples, but a few remain, most of which 
 came out of the Thermae of Caracalla, and originally from the 
 Villa of Adrian. These two, principally the one through the 
 other, have been the great mines from which the existing 
 treasures of art were drawn. The frescoes in this palace are 
 beautiful a gallery by Annibal and Agostino Caracci, with a 
 few pictures by Domenichino, Guido, and Lanfranco. Anni- 
 bal Caracci's are as fine as any I have seen ; also a little cab- 
 inet picture painted entirely by Annibal, which is exquisite. 
 
 As we were going to this palace we drove by the Cancelleria 
 (which was likewise built out of the Coliseum), and heard by 
 accident that a dead cardinal (Somaglia) was lying in state 
 there. Somaglia was secretary of state in Leo's time. Hav- 
 ing seen all the living cardinals, we thought we might as well 
 complete our view of the Sacred College with the dead one, 
 and went up. After a great deal of knocking we were ad- 
 mitted' to a private view half an hour before the public was 
 let in. He had been embalmed, and lay on a bed under a 
 canopy on an inclined plane, full dressed in cardinal's robes, 
 new shoes on, his face and hands uncovered, the former look- 
 ing very fresh (I believe he was rouged), his fingers black, but 
 on one of them was an emerald ring, candles burning before 
 the bed, and the window curtains drawn. He was eighty- 
 seven years old, but did not look so much, and had a healthier 
 appearance in death than half the old walking mummies we 
 had seen with palms in their hands in the morning. 
 
 Took a look at Pasquin, who had nothing but advertise- 
 ments pasted upon him. I had seen Marphorius in the Capi-
 
 1830.] BUNSEN. 129 
 
 tol ; there has long been an end to the witty dialogues of the 
 days of Sixtus V., so quaintly told by Leti ; they are so little 
 " birds of a feather " (for Pasquin is a mutilated fragment, 
 Marphorius a colossal statue of the ocean) that, residing as 
 they did at different parts of the town, it is difficult to under- 
 stand how they ever came to converse with each other at all. 
 I remember one of the best of his stories. Sixtus V. made his 
 sister a princess, and she had been a washerwoman. The 
 next day Pasquin appeared with a dirty shirt on. Marphorius 
 asks him " why he wears such foul linen," and he answers 
 " that his washerwoman has been made a princess, and he 
 can't get it washed." 
 
 To the Farnesina : Raphael's frescoes, the famous Galatea, 
 and the great head which Michael Angelo painted on the wall, 
 as it is said as a hint to Raphael that he was too minute. 
 There it is just as he left it. Here Raphael painted the 
 Transfiguration, and here the Fornarina was shut up with him 
 that he might not run away from his work. It might be 
 thought that to shut up his mistress with him was not the way 
 to keep him to his work. Be that as it may, the plan was a 
 good one which produced these frescoes and the Transfigu- 
 ration. 
 
 April <)th. On Wednesday called on Bunsen, the Prus- 
 sian Minister, who lives at the top of the Tarpeian Rock, in 
 a house commanding one of the best views of Rome. He has 
 devoted himself to the study of Roman history and antiqui- 
 ties, and has the whole subject at his fingers' ends. He is 
 really luminous, and his conversation equally amusing and 
 instructive. He is about to publish a book about ancient and 
 modern Rome, which, from what I hear, will be too minute 
 and prolix. I then went to look at the Tarpeian Rock, but 
 the accumulation of earth has diminished its height there 
 is the rock, but in a very obscure hole. It was probably 
 twice as high as it is now. I think it is now about forty feet. 
 Bunsen says that though the antiquaries pretend to point out 
 the course of the ancient triumphal way, he does not think it 
 can ever be ascertained. The only remains (only bits of
 
 130 THE CREVTLLE MEMOIRS. [1830. 
 
 foundations) of the temple of the Capitoline Jupiter, to which 
 the conquerors ascended, are in the garden under his windows. 
 He thinks the population of ancient Rome may be taken at 
 two millions at its most flourishing period. It is curious that 
 there are hardly any houses on the hills on which ancient 
 Rome was built, and that there were none formerly where 
 modern Rome stands no private houses, only public build- 
 ings and temples. 
 
 To the Mamertine Prisons, probably not a stone of which 
 has been changed from the time that Jugurtha was starved 
 in them. The tradition about St. Peter and the well of course 
 is not to be believed ; but it is very odd there should be a well 
 there when there are so few in Rome. To the Sistine Chapel 
 with M. de la Ferronays, and very much disappointed with the 
 music, which was not so good as on Sunday ; nor was the cere- 
 mony accompanying the Miserere at all imposing. Yesterday 
 morning to the Sistine again ; prodigious crowd, music moderate. 
 As soon as it was over we set off to see the benediction ; and, 
 after fighting, jostling, and squeezing through an enormous 
 crowd, we reached the loggia over one side of the colonnade. 
 The piazza of St. Peter's is so magnificent that the sight was 
 of necessity fine, but not near so much so as I had fancied. 
 The people below were not numerous or full of reverence. 
 Till the Pope appears the bands play and the bells ring, when 
 suddenly there is a profound silence ; the feathers are seen 
 waving in the balcony, and he is borne in on his throne ; he 
 rises, stretches out his hands, blesses the people URBI ET 
 ORBI and is borne out again. A couple of indulgences were 
 tossed out, for which there is a scramble, and so it ends. Off 
 we scampered, and, by dint of tremendous exertions reached 
 the hall in which the feet of the pilgrims are washed. The 
 Pope could not attend, so the Cardinal Deacon officiated. No 
 ceremony can be less imposing, but none more clean. Thirteen 
 men are ranged on a bench the thirteenth represents the 
 angel who once joined the party dressed in new white caps, 
 gowns, and shoes ; each holds out his foot in succession ; an 
 attendant pours a few drops of water on it from a golden jug,
 
 1830.] DINING THE PILGRIMS. 131 
 
 which another receives in a golden basin ; the cardinal wipes 
 it with a towel, kisses the foot, and then gives the towel, a 
 nosegay, and a piece of money to the pilgrim the whole 
 thing takes up about five minutes certain prayers are said, 
 and it is all over. Then off we scampered again through the 
 long galleries of the Vatican to another hall where the pilgrims 
 dine. The arrangements for the accommodation of the am- 
 bassadors and strangers were so bad that all these passages 
 were successive scenes of uproar, scrambling, screaming, con- 
 fusion, and danger, and, considering that the ceremonies were 
 all religious, really disgraceful. We got with infinite difficulty 
 to another box, raised aloft in the hall, and saw a long table at 
 which the thirteen pilgrims seated themselves ; a cardinal in 
 the corner read some prayers, which nobody listened to, and 
 another handed the dishes to the pilgrims, who looked neither 
 to the right nor the left, but applied themselves with becom- 
 ing gravity to the enjoyment of a very substantial dinner. 
 The whole hall was filled with people, all with their hats on. 
 chattering and jostling, and more like a ring of blacklegs and 
 blackguards at Tattersall's than respectable company at a 
 religious ceremony in the palace of the Pope. There re- 
 mained the cardinals' dinner, but I had had more than enough, 
 and came away hot, jaded, and disgusted with the whole 
 affair. 
 
 In the evening I went to St. Peter's, when I was amply rec- 
 ompensed for the disappointment and bore of the morning. 
 The church was crowded ; there was a Miserere in the chapel, 
 which was divine, far more beautiful than anything I have 
 heard in the Sistine, and it was the more effective because at 
 the close it really was night. The lamps were extinguished 
 at the shrine of the Apostle, but one altar the altar of the 
 Holy Sepulchre was brilliantly illuminated. Presently the 
 Grand Penitentiary, Cardinal Gregorio, with his train entered, 
 went and paid his devotions at this shrine, and then seated 
 himself on the chair of the great confessional, took a golden 
 wand, and touched all those who knelt before him. Then 
 came a procession of pilgrims bearing muffled crosses ; peni-
 
 132 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1830. 
 
 tents with faces covered, in white, with tapers and crosses ; 
 and one long procession of men headed by these muffled 
 figures, and another of women accompanied by ladies, a lady 
 walking between every two pilgrims. The cross in the proces- 
 sion of women was carried by the Princess Orsini, one of the 
 greatest ladies in Rome. They attended them to the church 
 (the Trinitk delle Pellegrine) and washed their feet and fed 
 them. A real washing of dirty feet. Both the men and the 
 women seemed of the lowest class, but their appearance and 
 dresses were very picturesque. These processions entered 
 St. Peter's, walked all round the church, knelt at the altars, 
 and retired in the same order, filing along the piazza till they 
 were lost behind the arches of the colonnades. As the shades 
 of night fell upon the vast expanse of this wonderful building 
 it became really sublime ; " the dim religious light " glimmer- 
 ing from a distant altar, or cast by the passing torches of the 
 procession, the voices of the choir as they sang the Miserere 
 swelling from the chapel, which was veiled in dusk, and with 
 no light but that of the high taper half hid behind the altar, 
 with the crowds of figures assembled round the chapel moving 
 about in the obscurity of the aisles and columns, produced 
 the most striking effect I ever beheld. It was curious, in- 
 teresting, and inspiring little of mummery and much of 
 solemnity. The night here brings out fresh beauties, but of 
 the most majestic character. There is a color in an Italian 
 twilight that I have never seen in England, so soft, and 
 beautiful, and gray, and the moon rises " not as in northern 
 climes obscurely bright," but with far-spreading rays around 
 her. The figures, costume, and attitudes that you see in the 
 churches are wonderfully picturesque. I went afterwards to 
 the Jesu, where there was a tiresome service (the Tre Ore), 
 and heard a Jesuit preaching with much passion and emphasis, 
 but could not understand a word he said. 
 
 At night. To St. Peter's where the Miserere was not so 
 good as last night. It was reported that the Pope was coming 
 to St. Peter's, and the Swiss Guards lined the nave, but he 
 did not arrive. Formerly, when the cross was illuminated, he
 
 1830.] THE GRAND PENITENTIARY. 133 
 
 used to come with all the cardinals to adore it. Now the car- 
 dinals (or rather some of them) came and adored the cross and 
 the relics belonging to the church, which were exhibited in 
 succession from one of the balconies a bit of the true cross, 
 Santa Veronica's bloody handkerchief, and others. There 
 were, as the night before, several fraternities of penitents, 
 some in black, oth'ers in white or brown, all disguised by long 
 hoods, but there was to-night one of the most striking and re- 
 markable exhibitions I ever beheld. 
 
 The Grand Penitentiary, Cardinal Gregorio, again took his 
 seat in the chair of the great confessional. All those who 
 have been absolved after confession by their priest, and who 
 present themselves before him, are touched with his golden 
 wand, in token of confirmation of the absolution, and here 
 again that quality which I have so often remarked as one of 
 the peculiar characteristics of the Catholic religion is very 
 striking. Men and women, beggars and princesses, present 
 themselves indiscriminately ; they all kneel in a row, and he 
 touches them in succession. In the churches there seem to 
 be no distinctions of rank ; no one, however great or rich, is 
 contaminated by the approximation of poverty and rags. But 
 to return to the confessional. There are some crimes of such 
 enormity that absolution for them can only be granted by the 
 Pope himself, who delegates his power to the Grand Peniten- 
 tiary, and he receives such confessions in the chair in which 
 he was seated to-day. They are, however, very rare ; but 
 this evening, after he had finished touching the people, a man, 
 dressed like a peasant in a loose brown frock, worsted stock- 
 ings, and brogues, apparently of the lowest order, dark, ill- 
 Jooking, and squalid, approached the confessional to reveal 
 some great crime. The confession was very long, so was the 
 admonition of the cardinal which followed it. The appearance 
 of the cardinal is particularly dignified and noble, and, as he 
 bent down his head, joining it to that of this ruffian like figure, 
 listening with extreme patience and attention, and occasion- 
 ally speaking to him with excessive earnestness, while the 
 whole surrounding multitude stood silently gazing at the scene,
 
 134 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1830. 
 
 all conscious that some great criminal was before them, but 
 none knowing the nature of the crime, it was impossible not 
 to be deeply interested and impressed with such a spectacle. 
 Nothing could exceed the patience of the cardinal and the 
 intensity with which he seemed absorbed in the tale of the 
 penitent. When it was Over he wiped his face, as if he had 
 been agitated by what he heard. It was impossible not to feel 
 that be the balance for or against confession (which is a dif- 
 ficult question to decide, though I am inclined to think the 
 balance is against), it is productive of some good effects, and, 
 though susceptible of enormous abuses, is a powerful in- 
 strument of good when properly used. I have no doubt it is 
 largely abused, but it is the most powerful weapon of the 
 Romish Church, the one, I believe, by which it principally 
 lives, moves, and has its being. That penitence must be real, 
 and of a nature to be worked upon, which can induce a 
 man to come forward in the face of multitudes and exhibit 
 himself as the perpetrator of some atrocious though unknown 
 crime. 
 
 Sunday. High Mass in St. Peter's, which was crowded. 
 I walked about the church to see the groups and the extraor- 
 dinary and picturesque figures moving through the vast space. 
 They are to the last degree interesting : in one place hun- 
 dreds prostrate before an altar pilgrims, soldiers, beggars, 
 ladies, gentlemen, old and young, in every variety of attitude, 
 costume, and occupation. The benediction was much finer 
 than on Thursday, the day magnificent, the whole piazza filled 
 with a countless multitude, all in their holiday dresses, and 
 carriages in the background to the very end. The troops 
 forming a brilliant square in the middle, the immense popula- 
 tion and variety of costume, the weather, and the glorious 
 locality certainly made as fine a spectacle as can possibly be 
 seen. The Pope is dressed in white, with the triple crown on 
 his head ; two great fans of feathers, exactly like those of the 
 Great Mogul, are carried on each side of him. He sits aloft 
 on his throne, and is slowly borne to the front of the balcony. 
 The moment he appears there is a dead silence, and every
 
 1830.] ^7: PETER'S ILLUMINATED. 135 
 
 head is bared. When he rises, the soldiers all fall on their 
 knees, and some, but only a few of the spectators. The dis- 
 tance is so great that he looks like a puppet, and you just see 
 him move his hands and make some signs. When he gives 
 the blessing the sign of the cross the cannon fires. He 
 blesses the people twice, remains perhaps five minutes in the 
 balcony, and is carried out as he came in. 
 
 The numbers who come to the benediction are taken as a 
 test of the popularity of the Pope, though I suppose the 
 weather has a good deal to do with it. Leo XII. was very 
 unpopular from his austerity, and particularly his shutting up 
 the wine shops. The first time he gave the benediction after 
 that measure hardly anybody came to be blessed. 
 
 At night. The illumination of St. Peter's is as fine as I 
 was told it was, and that is saying everything. I saw it from 
 the Pincian, from the windows of the French Academy and 
 Horace Vernet's room. He is established in the Villa 
 Medici ; a very lively little fellow, and making a great deal of 
 money as director of the Academy and by his paintings. His 
 daughter is very pretty. Here I met Savary, the Due de 
 Rovigo, a tall, stout, vulgar-looking man. We were intro- 
 duced and conversed on French politics. Afterwards drove 
 down to the piazza and round it. The illumination is more 
 effective at a distance, but I think it looks best from the en- 
 trance to the piazza and the Bridge of St. Angelo ; the blaze 
 of light, the crowd, and the fountains, covered with a red 
 glare, made altogether the most splendid sight in the world. 
 (One poor devil was killed, and there is almost always some 
 accident.) Eight hundred men are employed in illuminating 
 St. Peter's ; the first pale and subdued light, which covers the 
 whole church, is brought out by the darkness of night, the 
 little lamps being lit in' the daytime. The blazing lights which 
 succeed are made by large pots of grease with wicks in them ; 
 there is one man to every two lamps. On a given signal, each 
 man touches his two lamps as quick as possible, so that the 
 whole building bursts into light at once by a process the 
 effect of which is quite magical literally, as the " Rejected
 
 136 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1830. 
 
 Addresses " say, " starts into light, and makes the lighter 
 start." 
 
 April I3/A. Breakfasted with Bunsen at the Capitol; 
 Lovaine, Morier, Haddington, Hamilton, Kestner, Falck, G. 
 Fitzclarence, Sir W. Cell, a little Italian savant, and Mr. Hall, 
 Bunsen's brother-in-law. Haddington told the story of Can- 
 ning's sending to Bagot a dispatch in cipher, containing these 
 lines : 
 
 " In matters of commerce the fault of the Dutch 
 Is giving too little and asking too much ; 
 With equal protection the French are content : 
 So we : 11 lay on Dutch bottoms just twenty per cent. 
 Chonu of Officers. We '11 lay, etc. 
 Chorus of Douaniers. Nous frapperons Falck avec 
 Twenty per cent." 
 
 He received the dispatch at dinner, and sent it to be de- 
 ciphered. After some hours they brought him word they did 
 not know what to make of it, for it seemed to be in verse, 
 when he at once saw there was a joke. 
 
 Bunsen's history is rather curious. He was a poor German 
 student destined for the Church ; came to Rome, and got em- 
 ployed by Niebuhr, from whom he first got a taste for antiqui- 
 ties. The King of Prussia came to Rome and saw him ; he 
 was struck with his knowledge and the character he heard of 
 him, and consulted him about a new liturgy he wished to in- 
 troduce into Prussia. Bunsen gave him so much satisfaction 
 in that matter, as well as in some others which were in- 
 trusted to him, that on Niebuhr's return to Prussia he was ap- 
 pointed to succeed him, and has been at Rome ever since 
 thirteen years. Some say he is not a profound man, and that 
 his speculations about the ruins are all wrong. He talks 
 English, French, and Italian like his own language. 
 
 Naples, April 22.d. This morning we went to an Ursuline 
 convent to see two girls take the veil. The ceremony was 
 neither imposing, nor interesting, nor affecting, nor such as I 
 expected. I believe all this would have been the case had it 
 been the black veil, but it was the white unfortunately. I 
 thought they would be dressed splendidly, have their hair cut
 
 1830.] TAKING THE VEIL. 137 
 
 off in the church, be divested (in the convent) of their finery, 
 and reappear to take leave of their relations in the habit of 
 the order. Not at all. I went with A. Hill and Legge, who 
 had got tickets from the brother of one of the sposine; we 
 were admitted to the grating, an apartment about ten feet 
 long by five wide, with a very thick double grating, behind 
 which some of the nuns appeared and chattered. A turning 
 box supplied coffee and cakes to the company. I went to the 
 door of the parlor (which was open), but they would not admit 
 me. There the ladies were received, and the nuns and novices 
 were laughing and talking and doing the honors. Their dress 
 was not ugly black, white, and a yellow veil. The chapel 
 was adorned with gold brocade, and blue and silver hangings, 
 flowers, tapers ; a good orchestra, and two or three tolerable 
 voices. It was as full as it could hold, and soldiers were 
 distributed about to keep order ; even by the altar four stood 
 with fixed bayonets, who when the Host was raised presented 
 arms a military salute to the Real Presence ! The brother 
 of one of the girls did the honors of the chapel, placing the 
 ladies and bustling about for chairs, which all the time the 
 ceremony was going on were handed over heads and bonnets, 
 to the great danger of the latter. It was impossible not to be 
 struck with this man's gayety and sang-froid on the occasion, 
 but he is used to it, for this was the fourth sister he has buried 
 here. When the chapel was well crammed the sposine ap- 
 peared, each with two marraines. A table and six chairs 
 were placed opposite the altar ; on the table were two trays, 
 each containing a Prayer Book, a pocket-handkerchief, and a 
 white veil. The girls (who were very young, and one of them 
 rather pretty) were dressed in long black robes like dressing- 
 gowns, their hair curled, hanging down their backs and 
 slightly powdered. On the top of their heads were little 
 crowns of blue, studded with silver or diamonds. The ladies 
 attending them (one of whom was Princess Fondi and another 
 Princess Bressano) were very smart, and all the people in the 
 chapel were dressed as for a ball. There was a priest at the 
 table to tell the girls what to do. High Mass was performed.
 
 138 THE GREWLLE MEMOIRS. [1830. 
 
 then a long sermon was delivered by a priest who spoke very 
 fluently, but with a strange twang and in a very odd style, 
 continually apostrophizing the two girls by name, comparing 
 them to olives and other truit, to candtlabri, and desiring them 
 to keep themselves pure that "they might go as virgins into 
 the chamber of their beloved." When the Sacrament was 
 administered the ladies took the crowns off the girls, who 
 were like automata all the time, threw the white veils over 
 them, and led them to the altar, where the Sacrament was 
 administered to them ; then they were led back to their seats, 
 the veils taken off, and the crowns replaced. After a short 
 interval they were again led to the altar, where, on their knees, 
 their profession was read to them ; in this they are made to 
 renounce the world and their parents ; but at this part, which 
 is at the end, a murmuring noise is made by the four ladies 
 who kneel with them at the altar, that the words may not be 
 heard, being thought too heart-rending to the parents ; then 
 they are led out and taken into the convent, and the cere- 
 mony ends. The girls did not seem the least affected, but 
 very serious ; the rest of the party appeared to consider it as 
 a fete, and smirked and gossiped : only the father of one of 
 them, an old man, looked as if he felt it. The brother told 
 me his sister was eighteen ; that she would be a nun, and that 
 they had done all they could to dissuade her. It is a rigid 
 order, but there is a still more rigid rule within the convent. 
 Those nuns who embrace it are forever cut off from any sort 
 of communication with the world, and can never again see or 
 correspond with their own family. They cannot enter into 
 this last seclusion without the consent of their parents, which 
 another of this man's four sisters is now soliciting. 
 
 Thursday, May ~^d. Yesterday the miracle of the blood of 
 San Gennaro was performed, and of course successfully ; it 
 will be repeated every morning for eight days. I went to-day 
 to the Cathedral, where San Gennaro's silver bust was stand- 
 ing on one side of the altar, surrounded by lights, and the 
 vessel containing the blood on the other. Round the altar 
 were ranged silver heads of various saints, his particular
 
 1830.] ST. JANUARIUS. 139 
 
 friends, who had accompanied him there to do him honor, and 
 who will be taken this evening with him in procession to his 
 own chapel. Acton and I went together, and one of the peo- 
 ple belonging to the church seeing us come in, and judging 
 that we wanted to see the blood, summoned one of the canons, 
 who was half asleep in a stall, who brought out the blood, 
 which is contained in a glass vase mounted with silver. It 
 liquefies in the morning, remains in that state all day, and 
 congeals again at night. A great many people were waiting 
 to kiss the vessel, which was handed to us first. We kissed 
 it, and then it went round, each person kissing it and touch- 
 ing it with his head, as they do St. Peter's foot at Rome. San 
 Gennaro and his silver companions were brought in proces- 
 sion frpm one of the other churches, all the nobility and an 
 immense crowd attending. I had fancied that the French 
 had exposed and put an end to this juggle, but not at all. 
 They found the people so attached to the superstition that 
 they patronized it ; they adorned the Chapel of St. Januarius 
 with a magnificent altar-piece and other presents. The first 
 time (after they came to Naples) that the miracle was to be 
 performed the blood would not liquefy, which produced a 
 great ferment among the people. It was a trick of the priest's 
 to throw odium on the French, and the French General Cham- 
 pionnet thought it so serious that he sent word that if the 
 blood did not liquefy forthwith the priests should go to the 
 galleys. It liquefied immediately, and the people were satis- 
 fied. Acton told me that nobody believed it but the common 
 people, but that they did not dare to leave it off. It is what 
 is called a false position to be in, when they are obliged to 
 go on pretending to perform a miracle in which no men of 
 sense and education believe, and in which it is well known 
 they don't any of them believe themselves. Miracles, if 
 sometimes useful and profitable, are sometimes awkward 
 incumbrances. Drove round the obscure parts of the town, 
 and through dense masses of population, by the old palace of 
 Queen Joan and the market-place, which was the scene of 
 Masaniello's sedition. He was killed in the great church (in 
 1646).
 
 140 THE GKEVILLE MEMOIRS. [1830. 
 
 May Tth. In the morning to the Chapel of St. Januarius, 
 to see the blood liquefy. The grand ceremony was last Sat- 
 urday at the Cathedral, but the miracle is repeated every 
 morning in the chapel for eight days. I never saw such a 
 scene, at once so ludicrous and so disgusting, but more of the 
 latter. There was the saint all bedizened with pearls on the 
 altar, the other silver ladies and gentlemen all round the 
 chapel, with an abundance of tapers burning before them. 
 Certain people were admitted within the rails of the altar ; the 
 crowd consisting chiefly of women, and most of them old 
 women, were without. There is no service, but the priests 
 keep muttering and looking at the blood to see if it is melting. 
 To-day it was unusually long, so these old sybils kept clamor- 
 ing, ''Santa Trinitaf" "Santa Vergine!" " Dio onnipo- 
 tentef" "San Gennaro!" in loud and discordant chorus; 
 still the blood was obstinate, 1 so the priest ordered them to go 
 down on their knees and to say the Athanasian Creed, which 
 is one of the specifics resorted to in such a case. He drawled 
 it out with his eyes shut, and the women screamed the re- 
 sponses. This would not do, so they fell to abuse and en- 
 treaties with a vehemence and volubility, and a shrill clamor, 
 which was at once a proof of their sincerity and their folly. 
 Such noise, such gesticulations. One woman I never shall 
 forget, with outstretched arm, distorted visage, and voice of 
 piercing sharpness. In the mean time the priest handed about 
 the vial to be kissed, and talked the matter over with the by- 
 standers. " E sempre duro f " " Sempre dttro, adesso z/' e una 
 piccola cosa" At last, after all the handling, praying, kissing, 
 screaming, entreating, and abusing, the blood did melt, 2 when 
 the organ struck up, they all sang in chorus, and so it ended. 
 It struck me as particularly disgusting, though after all it is 
 not fair to abuse these poor people, who have all been 
 brought up in the belief of the miracle, and who fancy that 
 
 1 I dined at Hill's ; sat next to the Duchesse de Dalberg, talked of the miracle, 
 which she told me she firmly believed. I fancied none believed it but the lowest of 
 the people, and was (very foolishly) astonished ; for what ought ever to produce as- 
 tonishment which has to do with credulity in matters of religion ? 
 
 J " Illarum lacrymz meditataque murmura przstant." Juvenal, 6.
 
 1830.] VATICAN LIBRARY. 14! 
 
 the prosperity of their city and all that it contains is somehow 
 connected with its due performance. The priests could not 
 discontinue it but by acknowledging the imposture, and by an 
 imaginative people, who are the slaves of prejudice, and at- 
 tached to it by force of inveterate habit, the acknowledgment 
 would not be believed, and they would only incur odium by it ; 
 there it is, and (for some time at least) it must go on. 
 
 12th. This morning went with the Lovaines and Monsig- 
 nore Spada to see the library of the Vatican, which was to 
 have been shown us by Monsignore Maii, the librarian, but he 
 was engaged elsewhere and did not come. These galleries 
 are most beautiful, vast, and magnificent, and the painting of 
 the old part interesting and curious, but that which was done 
 by Pius VI. and Pius VII. has deformed the walls with such 
 trash as I never beheld ; they present various scenes of the 
 misfortunes of these two Popes, and certain passages in their 
 lives. The principal manuscripts we saw were a history of 
 Federigo di Felto, Duke of Urbino, and nephew of Julius II., 
 beautifully illuminated by Julio Clovio, a scholar of Giulio 
 Romano. I never saw anything more exquisite than these 
 paintings. Amongst the most curious of the literary treasures 
 we saw are a manuscript of some of St. Augustine's works, 
 written upon a palimpsest of Cicero's " De Republica " ; this 
 treatise was brought to light by Maii ; the old Latin was as 
 nearly erased as possible, but by the application of gall it has 
 been brought out faintly, but enough to be made out, and 
 completely read : Henry VIII.'s love-letters to Anne Boleyn, 
 in French and English ; Henry's reply to Luther, the presen- 
 tation copy to the Pope (Clement VII.), signed by him twice 
 at the end, in English at the end of the book, in Latin at the 
 dedication, which is also written by his own hand, only a line ; 
 the pictures representing St Peter's in different stages of the 
 work are very curious. In the print room there is a celestial 
 globe painted by Julio Romano. 
 
 Everybody here is in great alarm about the King (George 
 IV.), who I have no doubt is very ill. I am afraid he will die 
 before I get home, and I should like to be in at the death and
 
 142 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. I l8 3 c ' 
 
 see all the proceedings of a new reign ; but, now I am here, 
 I must stay out my time, let what will happen. I shall prob- 
 ably never see Rome again, and " according to the law of 
 probability, so true in general, so false in particular," I have a 
 good chance of seeing at least one more king leave us. 
 
 May 24/A. Dined with M. de la Ferronays a great 
 party and was desired to hand out Madame la Comtesse de 
 Maistre, wife to the Comte Xavier de Maistre, author of the 
 " Voyage autour de ma Chambre " and " Le Le*preux," to which 
 works I gave a prodigious number of compliments. The Dai- 
 bergs and Aldobrandinis dined there, and some French whom 
 I did not know. The Due de Dalberg and his wife are a per- 
 petual source of amusement to me, she with her devotion and 
 believing everything, he with his air moqueur and believing 
 nothing; she so merry, he so shrewd, and so they squabble 
 about religion. " Qui est cet homme ? " I said to him when a 
 ludicrous looking abbe", broader than he was long, came into the 
 room. " Que sais-je ? quelque magot." " Ah, je m'en vais 
 dire cela a la Duchesse." " Ah, mon cher, n'allez pas me 
 brjouiller avec ma famille." 
 
 He had been talking to me about La Ferronays the day be- 
 fore, and said he was a sensible, right headed man, " mats 
 diablement russe; " and last night La Ferronays gave us an 
 account of the revolt of the Guards on the Emperor Nicho- 
 las's accession, of which he had been a witness of the Em- 
 peror's firmness and his subsequent conversations with him, 
 all which was very interesting, and he recounted it with 
 great energy He said that the day after the affair of the 
 Guards all the Corps Diplomati. ue had gone to him, that he 
 had addressed them in an admirable discourse and with a firm 
 and placid countenance. He told them that they had wit- 
 nessed what had passed, and he had no doubt would give a 
 faithful relation of it to their several courts ; that, on dismiss- 
 ing them, he had taken him (La Ferronays) into h's closet, 
 when he burst into tears and said, " You have just seen me 
 act the part of emperor ; you must now witness the feelings 
 of the man. I speak to you as to my best friend, from whom
 
 1830.] PIUS vni. 143 
 
 I conceal nothing." He went on to say that he was the most 
 miserable of men, forced upon a throne which he had no 
 desire to mount, having been no party to the abdication of his 
 brother, and placed in the beginning of his reign in a position 
 the most painful, irksome, and difficult; but that though he 
 had never sought this elevation, now that he had taken it on 
 himself he would maintain and defend it. When La Ferronays 
 had done, " L'entendez-vous ? " said Dalberg. " Comme il 
 parle avec gout ; cela lui est personnel. L'Empereur ne lui 
 a pas dit la moititf de tout cela." 
 
 La Ferronays introduced me to Cardinal Albani, telling him 
 I had brought him a letter from Madame Craufurd, which I 
 did, and left it when I was here before. He thought I was 
 just come, and asked for the letter, which I told his Em- 
 inence he had already received. He had, however, forgotten 
 all about me, my letter, and old Craaf. We had a long con- 
 versation about the Catholic question, the Duke's duel with 
 Lord Winchelsea (which he had evidently never heard of), the 
 King's illness, etc. He is like a very ancient, red-legged 
 macaw, but I suppose he is a dandy among the cardinals, for 
 he wears two stars and two watches. I asked him to procure 
 me an audience of the Pope, which he promised to do. Es- 
 caped at last from the furnace his room was, and went to air 
 in the streets ; came home early and went to bed. 
 
 May 2()th. At ten Kestner called for Lovaine and me, 
 and we went to the Pope. 1 His court is by no means despic- 
 able. A splendid suite of apartments at the Quirinal with a 
 very decent attendance of Swiss Guards, Guardie Nobili, 
 Chamberlains generally ecclesiastics dressed in purple, 
 valets in red from top to toe, of Spanish cut, and in the midst 
 of all a barefooted Capuchin. After waiting a few minutes, 
 we were introduced to the presence of the Pope by the Cham- 
 berlain, who knelt as he showed us in. The Pope was alone 
 at the end of a very long and handsome apartment, sitting 
 
 1 The Pope was Pius VIII. (Francisco Xavierio Castiglioni), whose reign was a 
 very short one, for he succeeded Leo XII. in March, 1829, and was succeeded bv 
 Gregory XVI- in December, 1830.
 
 144 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1830. 
 
 under a canopy of state in an arm-chair, with a table before 
 him covered with books and papers, a crucifix, and a snuff- 
 box. He received us most graciously, half rising and ex- 
 tending his hand, which we all kissed. His dress was white 
 silk, and very dirty, a white silk skull cap, red silk shoes with 
 an embroidered cross, which the faithful kiss. He is a very 
 nice, squinting old twaddle, and we liked him. He asked us 
 if we spoke Italian, and when we modestly answered, a little, 
 be began in the most desperately unintelligible French I ever 
 heard ; so that, though no doubt he said many excellent 
 things, it was nearly impossible to comprehend any of them ; 
 but he talked with interest of our King's health, of the antiq- 
 uities, and Vescovali, of Lucien Bonaparte and his extor- 
 tion (for his curiosities), said when he was cardinal he used 
 to go often to Vescovali. He is, in fact, a connoisseur. 
 Talked of quieting religious dissensions in England and the 
 Catholic question ; and when I said, " Tres-Saint Pcre le Roi 
 mon mcdtre ti'a pas de meilleurs sujets que ses sujets cathol- 
 iques" his eyes whirled round in their sockets like teetotums, 
 and he grinned from ear to ear. After about a quarter of an 
 hour he bade us farewell ; we kissed his hand and backed out 
 again. 
 
 Bologna, June i/tfh. Dined with Lady Normanby at 
 Sesto, set off at half-past eight, and arrived here at nine this 
 morning. The first thing I did was to present my letter to 
 Madame de Marescalchi from her sister, the Duchesse de 
 Dalberg, who received me graciously and asked me to dinner ; 
 the next to call on Mezzofanti at the public library, whom I 
 found at his desk in the great room, surrounded by a great 
 many people reading. He received me very civilly, and al- 
 most immediately took me into another room, where I had a 
 long conversation with him. He seems to be between fifty 
 and sixty years of age, short, pale, and thin, and not at all re- 
 markable in countenance or manner. He spoke English with 
 extraordinary fluency and correctness, and with a very slight 
 accent. I endeavored to detect some inaccuracy of expres- 
 sion, but could not, though perhaps his phraseology was occa-
 
 1830.] MEZZOFANTI. 145 
 
 sionally more stiff than that of an Englishman would be. He 
 gave me an account of his beginning to study languages, 
 which he did not do till he was of a mature age. The first he 
 mastered were the Greek and Hebrew, the latter on account 
 of divinity, and afterwards he began the modern languages, 
 acquiring the idioms of each as he became acquainted with the 
 parent tongue. He said that he had no particular disposition 
 that way when a child, and I was surprised when he said that 
 the knowledge of several languages was of no assistance to 
 him in mastering others ; on the contrary, that when he set to 
 work at a fresh language he tried to put out of his head all 
 others. I asked him of all modern languages which he pre- 
 ferred, and which he considered the richest in literature. He 
 said, "Without doubt the Italian." He then discussed the 
 genius of the English language, and the merits of our poets 
 and historians, read, and made me read, a passage of an Eng- 
 lish book, and then examined the etymology and pronuncia- 
 tion of several words. He has never been out of Italy, or 
 farther in it than Leghorn, talks of going to Rome, but says it 
 is so difficult to leave his library. He is very pleasing, 
 simple, and communicative, and it is extraordinary, with his 
 wonderful knowledge, that he should never have written and 
 published any work upon languages. He asked me to return 
 if I stayed at Bologna. The library has a tolerable suite of 
 apartments, and the books, amounting to about 80,000 vol- 
 umes, are in excellent order. One thousand crowns a year are 
 allowed for the purchase of new books. 
 
 Paris, July ^d. Got here last night, after a fierce journey 
 of sixty-three hours from Geneva, only stopping two hours for 
 breakfast ; but by never touching anything but bread and 
 coffee I was neither heated nor tired. The Jura Mountains, 
 which they say are so tedious, were the pleasantest part of the 
 way, for the road is beautiful all through them, not like the 
 Alps, but like a hilly, wooded park. It rained torrents when I 
 set out, but soon cleared up, and when I got to the top of the 
 first mountain I saw a mass of clouds rise like a curtain and 
 unveil the whole landscape of Geneva, lake, mountains, and
 
 146 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1830. 
 
 country very fine sight. We heard of the King's death in 
 the middle of the night. 
 
 London, July i6//;. I returned here on the 6th of this 
 month, and have waited these ten days to look about me 
 and see and hear what is passing. The present King and 
 his proceedings occupy all attention, and nobody thinks any 
 more of the late King than if he had been dead fifty years, 
 unless it be to abuse him and to rake up all his vices and 
 misdeeds. Never was elevation like that of King William 
 IV. His life has been hitherto passed in obscurity and neg- 
 lect, in miserable poverty, surrounded by a numerous prog- 
 eny of bastards, without consideration or friends, and he 
 was ridiculous from his grotesque ways and little meddling 
 curiosity. Nobody ever invited him into their house, or 
 thought it necessary to honor him with any mark of atten- 
 tion or respect ; and so he went on for above forty years, 
 till Canning brought him into notice by making him lord 
 high admiral at the time of his grand ministerial schism. In 
 that post he distinguished himself by making absurd speeches, 
 by a morbid official activity, and by a general wildness which 
 was thought to indicate incipient insanity, till shortly after 
 Canning's death and the Duke's accession, as is well known, 
 the latter dismissed him. He then dropped back into obscur- 
 ity, but had become by this time somewhat more of a person- 
 age than he was before. His brief administration of the navy, 
 the death of the Duke of York, which made him heir to the 
 throne, his increased wealth and regular habits, had procured 
 him more consideration, though not a great deal. Such was 
 his position when George IV. broke all at once, and after 
 three months of expectation William finds himself king. 
 
 July i8M. King George had not been dead three days 
 before everybody discovered that he was no loss, and King 
 William a great gain. Certainly nobody ever was less regret- 
 ted than the late King, and the breath was hardly out of his 
 body before the press burst forth in full cry against him, and 
 raked up all his vices, follies, and misdeeds, which were nu- 
 merous and glaring enough.
 
 1830.] WILLIAM IV. 147 
 
 The new King began very well. Everybody expected he 
 would keep the ministers in office, but he threw himself into 
 the arms of the Duke of Wellington with the strongest ex- 
 pressions of confidence and esteem. He proposed to all the 
 household as well as to the members of government to keep 
 their places, which they all did except Lord Conyngham and 
 the Duke of Montrose. He soon after, however, dismissed 
 most of the equerries, that he might fill their places with the 
 members of his own family. Of course such a king wanted 
 not due praise, and plenty of anecdotes were raked up of his 
 former generosities and kindnesses. His first speech to the 
 council was well enough given, but his burlesque character 
 began even then to show itslf. Nobody expected from him 
 much real grief, and he does not seem to know how to act it 
 consistently; he spoke of his brother with all the semblance 
 of feeling, and in a tone of voice properly softened and sub- 
 dued, but just afterwards, when they gave him the pen to sign 
 the declaration, he said in his usual tone, " This is a damned 
 bad pen you have given me." My worthy colleague Mr. 
 James Buller began to swear privy councilors in the name of 
 " King George IV. William, I mean," to the great diver- 
 sion of the council. 
 
 A few days after my return I was sworn in, all the minis- 
 ters and some others being present His Majesty presided 
 very decently, and looked like a respectable old admiral. The 
 Duke [of Wellington] told me he was delighted with him 
 " If I had been able to deal with my late master as I do with 
 my present, I should have got on much better " that he was 
 so reasonable and tractable, and that he had done more busi- 
 ness with him in ten minutes than with the other in as many 
 days. 
 
 I met George Fitzclarence, afterwards Earl of Munster, 1 
 
 1 Eldest son of King William IV. by Mrs. Jordan, who was shortly after the ac- 
 cession created an earl by his father. The rank of " marquis's younger children " 
 was conferred upon the rest of the family. The King had nine natural children by 
 Mrs. Jordan : i. George, a major-general in the army, afterwards Earl of Munster ; 
 2. Frederick, also in the army ; 3. Adolphus, a rear-admiral ; 4. Augustus, in holy 
 orders; 5. Sophia, married to Lord de 1'Isle; 6. Mary, married to Colonel Fox ;
 
 148 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. 
 
 the same day, and repeated what the Duke said, and he told 
 me how delighted his father was with the Duke, his entire 
 confidence in him, and that the Duke might as entirely de- 
 pend upon the King ; that he had told his Majesty, when he 
 was at Paris, that Polignac and the Duke of Orleans had both 
 asked him whether the Duke of Clarence, when he became 
 King, would keep the Duke of Wellington as his minister, and 
 the King said, " What did you reply ? " " I replied that you 
 certainly would ; did not I do right?" "Certainly, you did 
 quite right." 
 
 He began immediately to do good-natured things, to pro- 
 vide for old friends and professional adherents, and he be- 
 stowed a pension upon Tierney's widow. The great offices of 
 chamberlain and steward he abandoned to the Duke of Wel- 
 lington. There never was anything like the enthusiam with 
 which he was greeted by all ranks ; though he has trotted 
 about both town and country for sixty-four years, and nobody 
 ever turned round to look at him, he cannot stir now without 
 a mob, patrician as well as plebeian, at his heels. All the 
 park congregated round the gate 10 see him drive into town 
 the day before yesterday. But in the midst of all this suc- 
 cess and good conduct certain indications of strangeness and 
 oddness peep out, which are not a little alarming, and he 
 promises to realize the fears of his ministers that he will do 
 and say too much, though they flatter themselves that they 
 have muzzled him in his approaching progress by reminding 
 him that his words will be taken as his ministers', and he 
 must, therefore, be chary of them. 
 
 At the late King's funeral he behaved with great indecency. 
 That ceremony was very well managed, and a fine sight, the 
 military part particularly, and the Guards were magnificent. 
 The attendance was not very numerous, and when they had 
 all got together in St. George's Hall a gayer company I never 
 beheld ; with the exception of Mount Charles, who was deeply 
 
 7. Elizabeth, married to the Earl of Errol : 8. Augusta, married first to the Hon. John 
 Kennedy Erskine, and secondly to Lord John Frederick Gordon ; 9. Amelia, mar- 
 ried to Viscount Falkland.
 
 1830.] FUNERAL OF GEORGE IV. 149 
 
 affected, they were all as merry as grigs. The King was 
 chief mourner, and, to my astonishment, as he entered the 
 chapel directly behind the body, in a situation in which he 
 should have been apparently, if not really, absorbed in the 
 melancholy duty he was performing, he darted up to Strat- 
 haven, who was ranged on one side below the Dean's stall, 
 shook him heartily by the hand, and then went on nodding to 
 the right and left. He had previously gone as chief mourner 
 to sit for an hour at the head of the body as it lay in state, and 
 he walked in procession with his household to the apartment. 
 I saw him pass from behind the screen. Lord Jersey had 
 been in the morning to Bushy to kiss hands on being made 
 chamberlain, when he had received him very graciously, told 
 him it was the Duke and not himself who had made him, but 
 that he was delighted to have him. At Windsor, when he ar- 
 rived, he gave Jersey the white wand, or rather took one from 
 him he had provided for himself, and gave it him again with a 
 little speech. When he went to sit in state, Jersey preceded 
 him, and he said when all was ready, " Go on to the body, 
 Jersey ; you will get your dress coat as soon as you can." 
 The morning after the funeral, having slept at Frogmore, he 
 went all over the Castle, into every room in the house, which 
 he had never seen before except when he came there as a 
 guest ; after which he received an address from the ecclesias- 
 tical bodies of Windsor and Eton, and returned an answer 
 quite unpremeditated which they told me was excellent. 
 
 He is very well with all his family, particularly the Duke of 
 Sussex, but he dislikes and seems to know the Duke of Cum- 
 berland, who is furious at his own discredit. The King has 
 taken from him the gold stick, by means of which he had 
 usurped the functions of all the other colonels of the regi- 
 ments of the Guards, and put himself always about the late 
 King. He says the Duke's rank is too high to perform those 
 functions, and has put an end to his services. He has only 
 put the gold sticks on their former footing, and they are all to 
 take the duty in turn. 
 
 In the mean time the Duke of Cumberland has shown his
 
 I5O THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1830. 
 
 teeth in another way. His horses have hitherto stood in the 
 stables which are appropriated to the Queen, and the other 
 day Lord Errol, her new master of the horse, went to her 
 Majesty and asked her where she chose her horses should be ; 
 she said, of course, she knew nothing about it, but in the 
 proper place. Errol then said the Duke of Cumberland's 
 horses were in her stables, and could not be got out without 
 an order from the King^ The King was spoken to, and he 
 commanded the Duke of Leeds to order them out. The Duke 
 of Leeds took the order to the Duke of Cumberland, who said 
 " he would be damned if they should go," when the Duke of 
 Leeds said that he trusted he would have them taken out the 
 following day, as unless he did so he should be under the 
 necessity of ordering them to be removed by the King's 
 grooms, when the Duke was obliged sulkily to give way. 
 When the King gave the order to the Duke of Leeds, he sent 
 for Taylor that he might be present, and said at the same 
 time that he had a very bad opinion of the Duke of Cumber- 
 land, and he wished he would live out of the country. 
 
 The King's good-nature, simplicity, and affability to all 
 about him are certainly very striking, and in his elevation he 
 does not forget any of his old friends and companions. He 
 was in no hurry to take upon himself the dignity of king, nor 
 to throw off -the habits and manners of a country gentleman. 
 When Lord Chesterfield went to Bushy to kiss his hand, and 
 be presented to the Queen, he found Sir John and Lady Gore 
 there lunching, and when they went away the King called for 
 their carriage, handed Lady Gore into it, and stood at the 
 door to see them off. When Lord Howe came over from 
 Twickenham to see him, he said the Queen was going out 
 driving, and should "drop him" at his own house. The 
 Queen, they say, is by no means delighted at her elevation. 
 She likes quiet and retirement and Bushy (of which the King 
 has made her ranger), and does not want to be a queen. 
 However, " Tapped t viendra en mangeant." He says he 
 does not want luxury and magnificence, has slept in a cot, and 
 he has dismissed the King's cooks, " renverst la marmite"
 
 rS_o.] ROYAL ODDITIES. 151 
 
 He keeps the stud (which is to be diminished) because he 
 thinks he ought to support the turf. He has made Mount 
 Charles a lord of the bedchamber, and given the robes to Sir 
 C. Pole, an admiral. Altogether he seems a kind-hearted, 
 well-meaning, not stupid, burlesque, bustling old fellow, and 
 if he does n't go mad may make a very decent king, but he 
 exhibits oddities. He would not have his servants in mourn- 
 ing that is, not those of his own family and household 
 but he sent the Duke of Sussex to Mrs. Fitzherbert to desire 
 she would put hers in mourning, and consequently so they 
 are. The King and she have always been friends, as she has, 
 in fact, been with all the royal family, but it was very strange. 
 Yesterday morning he sent for the officer on guard, and or- 
 dered him to take all the muffles off the drums, the scarfs off 
 the regimentals, and so to appear on parade, where he went 
 himself. The colonel would have put the officer under arrest 
 for doing this without his orders, but the King said he was 
 commanding officer of his own Guard, and forbade him. All 
 odd, and people are frightened, but his wits will at least last 
 till the new Parliament meets. I sent him a very respectful 
 request through Taylor that he would pay 3oo/., all that re- 
 mained due of the Duke of York's debts at Newmarket, 
 which he assented to directly, as soon as the privy purse 
 should be settled very good-natured. In the mean time 
 it is said that the bastards are dissatisfied that more is not 
 done for them, but he cannot do much for them at once, 
 and he must have time. He has done all he can ; he has 
 made Errol master of the horse, Sidney a Guelph and 
 equerry, George Fitzclarence the same and adjutant-general, 
 and doubtless they will all have their turn. Of course the 
 stories about the rapacity of the Conynghams have been in- 
 numerable. The King's will excited much astonishment, but 
 as yet nothing is for certain known about the money, or what 
 became of it, or what he gave aw.ay, and to whom, in his life- 
 time. 
 
 July 2oth. Yesterday was a very busy day with his Maj- 
 esty, who is going much too fast, and begins to alarm his
 
 152* THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1830. 
 
 ministers and astonish the world. In the morning he in- 
 spected the Coldstream Guards, dressed (for the first time in 
 his life) in a military uniform and with a great pair of gold 
 spurs half-way up his legs like a game cock, although he was 
 not to ride, for having chalk-stones in his hands he can't hold 
 the reins. The Queen came to Lady Bathurst's to see the 
 review and hold a sort of drawing-room, when the ministers' 
 wives were presented to her, and official men, to which were 
 added Lady Bathurst's relations ; everybody was in undress 
 except the officers. She is very ugly, with a horrid complex- 
 ion, but has good manners, and did all this (which she hated) 
 very well. She said the part as if she was acting, and wished 
 the green curtain to drop. After the review the King, with 
 the Dukes of Cumberland, Sussex, and Gloucester, and 
 Prince George and the Prince of Prussia, and the Duchess of 
 Cumberland's son, came in through the garden gate ; the 
 Duchess of Gloucester and Princess Augusta were already 
 there ; they breakfasted and then went away, the Duke of 
 Gloucester bowing to the company while nobody was taking 
 any notice of him or thinking about him. Nature must have 
 been merry when she made .this prince, and in the sort of 
 mood that certain great artists used to exhibit in their comical 
 caricatures ; I never saw a countenance which that line in 
 Dryden's " M'Flecknoe " would so well describe 
 
 " And lambent dullness plays around his face." 
 
 At one there was to be a council, to swear in privy coun- 
 cilors and lords-lieutenant, and receive Oxford and Cambridge 
 addresses. The review made it an hour later, and the lieuten- 
 ants, who had been summoned at one, and who, are great, 
 selfish, pampered aristocrats, were furious at being kept wait- 
 ing, particularly Lord Grosvenor and the Duke of Newcastle, 
 the former very peevish, the latter bitter-humored. I was 
 glad to see them put to inconvenience. I never saw so full a 
 court, so much nobility with" academical tagrag and bobtail. 
 After considerable delay the King received the Oxford and 
 Cambridge addresses on the throne, which (having only one
 
 1830.] THE KING IN THE STREETS. 153 
 
 throne between them) he then abdicated for the Queen to seat 
 herself on and receive them too. She sat it very well, sur- 
 rounded by the princesses and her ladies and household. 
 When this mob could be got rid of the table was brought in 
 and the council held. The Duke was twice sworn as Con- 
 stable of the Tower and Lieutenant of Hants ; then Jersey 
 and the new privy councilors ; and then the host of lieuten- 
 ants six or seven at a time, or as many as could hold a bit of 
 the Testament. I begged the King would, to expedite the 
 business, dispense with their kneeling, which he did, and so 
 we got on rapidly enough ; and I whispered to Jersey, who 
 stood by me behind the King with his white wand, "The 
 farce is good, is n't it ? " as they each kissed his hand. I 
 told him their name or county, or both, and he had a civil 
 word to say to everybody, inviting some to dinner, promising 
 to visit others, reminding them of former visits, or something 
 good-humored ; he asked Lord Egremont's permission to go 
 and live in his county, at Brighton. 
 
 All this was very well ; no great harm in it ; more affable, 
 less dignified than the late King ; but when this was over, and 
 he might very well have sat hinself quietly down and rested, 
 he must needs put on his plainer clothes and start on a ram- 
 ble about the streets, alone too. In Pall Mall he met Wat- 
 son Taylor, and took his arm and went up St. James Street. 
 There he was soon followed by a mob making an uproar, and 
 when he got near White's a woman came up and kissed him. 
 Belfast (who had been sworn in privy councilor in the morn- 
 ing), who saw this from White's, and Clinton thought it time 
 to interfere, and came out to attend upon him. The mob in- 
 creased, and, always holding W. Taylor's arm, and flanked by 
 Clinton and Belfast, who got shoved and kicked about to their 
 inexpressible wrath, he got back to the palace amid shouting 
 and bawling and applause. When he got home he asked 
 them to go in and take a quiet walk in the garden, and said, 
 " Oh, never mind all this ; when I have walked about a few 
 times they will get used to it, and will take no notice." There 
 are other stories, but I will put down nothing I do not see or
 
 154 THE GKEVTLLE MEMOIRS. [1830. 
 
 hear, or hear from the witnesses. Belfast told me this in the 
 Park, fresh from the scene and smarting from the buffeting he 
 had got. All the Park was ringing with it, and I told Lady 
 Bathurst, who thought it so serious she said she would get 
 Lord Bathust to write to the Duke directly about it. Lord 
 Combermere wanted to be made a privy councilor yesterday, 
 but the Duke would not let it be done ; he is in a sort of half 
 disgrace, and is not to be made yet, but will be by and by. 
 
 Grove Road, July 2ist. I came and established myself 
 here last night after the Duchess of Bedford's ball. Lady 
 Bathurst told me that the Queen spoke to her yesterday 
 morning about the King's walk and being followed, and said 
 that for the future he must walk early in the morning, or in 
 some less public place, so there are hopes that his activity 
 may be tamed. He sent George Fitzclarence off from dinner 
 in his silk stockings and cocked hat to Boulogne to invite the 
 King of Wiirtemberg to come here ; he was back in fifty-six 
 hours, and might have been in less. He employs him in 
 everything, and I heard Fitzclarence yesterday ask the Duke 
 of Leeds for two of his father's horses to ride about on his 
 jobs and relieve his own, which the Duke agreed to, but made 
 a wry face. Mount Charles has refused to be lord of the bed- 
 chamber ; his wife can't bear it, and he does n't like to go to 
 Windsor under such altered circumstances. I hardly ever 
 record the scandalous stories of the day, unless they relate 
 to characters or events, but what relates to public men is 
 different from the loves and friendships of the idiots of so- 
 ciety. 
 
 July 24//z. Went to St. James's the day before yesterday 
 for a council for the dissolution, but there was none. Yes- 
 terday morning there was an idea of having one, but it is to- 
 day instead, and early in the morning, that the ministers may 
 be able to go to their fish dinner at Greenwich. I called on 
 the Duke yesterday evening to know about a council, but he 
 could not tell me. Then came a Mr. Moss (or his card) while 
 I was there. " Who is he ? " I said. " Oh, a man who wants 
 to see me about a canal. I can't see him. Everybody will
 
 1830.] WANT OF ETIQUETTE. 155 
 
 see me, and how the devil they think I am to see everybody, 
 and be the whole morning with the King, and to do the whole 
 business of the country, I don't know. I am quite worn out 
 with it." I longed to tell him that it is this latter part they 
 would willingly relieve him from. 
 
 I met Vesey Fitzgerald, just come from Paris, and had a 
 long conversation with him about the state of the govern- 
 ment ; he seems aware of the difficulties and the necessity 
 of acquiring more strength ; of the universal persuasion that 
 the Duke will be all in all, and says that in the Cabinet no- 
 body can be more reasonable and yielding and deferential 
 to the opinions of his colleagues. But Murray's appoint- 
 ment, he says, was a mistake, 1 and no personal consideration 
 should induce the Duke to sacrifice the interests of the coun- 
 try by keeping him ; it may be disagreeable to dismiss him, 
 but he must do it. Hay told me that for the many years he 
 had been in office he had never met with any public officer so 
 totally inefficient as he, not even Warrender at the Admiralty 
 Board. 
 
 In the mean time the King has had his levee, which was 
 crowded beyond all precedent. He was very civil to the peo- 
 ple, particularly to Sefton, who had quarreled with the late 
 King. 
 
 Yesterday he went to the House of Lords, and was admi- 
 rably received. I can fancy nothing like his delight at finding 
 himself in the state coach surrounded by all his pomp. He 
 delivered the speech very well, they say, for I did not go to 
 hear him. He did not wear the crown, which was carried by 
 Lord Hastings. Etiquette is a thing he cannot comprehend. 
 He wanted to take the King of Wiirtemberg with him in his 
 coach, till he was told it was out of the question. In his pri- 
 vate carriage he continues to sit backwards, and when he goes 
 with men makes one sit by him and not opposite to him. Yes- 
 terday, after the House of Lords, he drove all over the town 
 in an open caleche with the Queen, Princess Augusta, and the 
 King of Wiirtemberg, and coming home he set down the 
 
 1 Sir George Murray was secretary of state for the Colonial Department.
 
 156 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1830. 
 
 King (dropped hint, as he calls it) at Grillon's Hotel. The 
 King of England dropping another king at a tavern ! It is 
 impossible not to be struck with his extreme good-nature and 
 simplicity, which he cannot or will not exchange for the dig- 
 nity of his new situation and the trammels of etiquette ; but 
 he ought to be made to understand that his simplicity degen- 
 erates into vulgarity, and that without departing from his nat- 
 ural urbanity he may conduct himself so as not to lower the 
 character with which he is invested, and which belongs not to 
 him, but to the country. 
 
 At his dinner at St. James's the other day, more people 
 were invited than there was room for, and some half dozen 
 were forced to sit at a side table. He said to Lord Brownlow, 
 " Well, when you are flooded (he thinks Lincolnshire is all 
 fen) you will come to us at Windsor." To the Freemasons 
 he was rather good. The Duke of Sussex wanted him to re- 
 ceive their address in a solemn audience, which he refused, 
 and when they did come he said, " Gentlemen, if my love for 
 you equaled my ignorance of everything concerning you, it 
 would be unbounded," and then he added something good- 
 humored. The consequence of his trotting about, and saying 
 the odd things he does, is that there are all sorts of stories 
 about him which are not true, and he is always expected 
 everywhere. In the mean time I believe that politically he 
 relies implicitly on the Duke, who can make him do anything. 
 Agar Ellis (who is bustling and active, always wishing to play 
 a part, and gets mixed up with the politics of this and that 
 party through his various connections) told me the other day 
 that he knew the Duke was knocking at every door, hitherto 
 without success, and that he must be contented to take a 
 parfy, and not expect to strengthen himself by picking out in- 
 dividuals. I think this too, but why not open his doors to all 
 comers ? There are no questions now to stand in his way ; 
 his government must be remodeled, and he may last forever 
 personally. 
 
 July i^th. Yesterday at court at eleven; a council for 
 the dissolution. This King and these councils are very unlike
 
 1830.] A ROYAL PARTY. 157 
 
 the last few people present, frequent, punctual, less cere- 
 mony observed. Though these ministers have been in office 
 all their lives, nobody knew how many days must elapse be- 
 fore Parliament was summoned ; some said sixty, some 
 seventy days, but not one knew, nor had they settled the mat- 
 ter previously ; so Lord Rosslyn and I were obliged to go to 
 Bridgewater House, which was near, and consult the journals. 
 It has always been fifty-two days of late. 
 
 In the afternoon another embarrassment. We sent the 
 proclamations to the Chancellor (one for England and one for 
 Ireland), to have the great seal affixed to them ; he would 
 only affix the seal to the English, and sent back the Irish un- 
 sealed. The secretary of state would not send it to Ireland 
 without the great seal, and all the ministers were gone to the 
 fish dinner at Greenwich, so that there was no getting at any- 
 body. At last we got it done at Lincoln's inn and sent it off. 
 The fact is, nobody knows his business, and the Chancellor 
 least of all. The King continues very active ; he went after 
 the council to Buckingham House, then to the Thames Tun- 
 nel, has immense dinners every day, and the same people two 
 or three days running. He has dismissed the late King's 
 band, and employs the bands of the Guards every night, who 
 are ready to die of it, for they get no pay, and are prevented 
 earning money elsewhere. The other night the King had a 
 party, and at eleven o'clock he dismissed them thus : " Now 
 ladies and gentlemen, I wish you a good-night. I will not 
 detain you any longer from your amusements, and shall go to 
 my own, which is to go to bed ; so come along, my Queen." 
 The other day he was very angry because the guard did not 
 know him in his plain clothes and turn out for him the first 
 appearance of jealousy of his greatness he has shown and 
 he ordered them to be more on the alert for the future. 
 
 July 2.6th. Still the King; his adventures (for they are 
 nothing else) furnish matter of continual amusement and as- 
 tonishment to his liege subjects. Yesterday morning, or the 
 evening before, he announced to the Duke of Wellington thit 
 he should dine with him yesterday ; accordingly the Duke was
 
 158 THE GREl'ILLE MEMOIRS. [1830. 
 
 obliged, in the middle of preparations for his breaktast, to get 
 a dinner ready for him. In the morning he took the King of 
 Wiirtemberg to Windsor, and just at the hour when the Duke 
 expected him to dinner he was driving through Hyde Park 
 back from Windsor three barouches and four, the horses 
 dead knocked up ; in the front the two kings, Jersey, and 
 somebody else, all covered with dust. The whole mob of 
 carriages and horsemen assembled near Apsley House to see 
 him pass and to wait till he returned. The Duke on hearing 
 he was there, rushed down without his hat and stood in his 
 gate in the middle of servants, mob, etc., to see him pass. 
 He drove to Grillon's " to drop " the King of Wiirtemberg, 
 and at a quarter past eight he arrived at Apsley House. 
 There were about forty-five men, no women, half the minis- 
 ters, most of the foreign ministers, and a mixture rather indis- 
 criminate. In the evening I was at Lady Salisbury's, when 
 arrived the Duke of Sussex, who gave a short account to 
 Sefton of what had passed, and of the King's speech to the 
 company. " You and I," he said, " are old Whigs, my lord, 
 and I confess I was somewhat astonished to hear his Majesty's 
 speech." I went afterwards to Crockford's, where I found 
 Matuscewitz, who gave me a whole account of the dinner. 
 The two kings went out to dinner arm in arm, the Duke fol- 
 lowed ; the King sat between the King of Wiirtemberg and the 
 Duke. After dinner his health was drunk, to which he re- 
 turned thanks, sitting, but briefly, and promised to say more 
 by and by when he should give a toast. In process of time 
 he desired Douro to go and tell the band to play the merriest 
 waltz they could for the toast he was about to give. He then 
 gave " The Queen of Wiirtemberg," with many eulogiums on 
 her and on the connubial felicity of her and the King ; not a 
 very agreeable theme for his host, for conjugal fidelity is not 
 his forte. At length he desired Douro to go again to the 
 band and order them to play " See the conquering hero comes," 
 and then he rose. All the company rose with him, when he 
 ordered everybody to sit down. Still standing, he said that 
 he had been so short a time on the throne that he did not
 
 1 830. ] AN EXTRA OR DIN A R Y SPEECH. 1 5 9 
 
 know whether etiquette required that he should speak sitting 
 or standing, but, however this might be, he had been long used 
 to speak on his legs, and should do so now ; he then proposed 
 the Duke's health, but prefaced it with a long speech insti- 
 tuted a comparison between him and the Duke of Marlbor- 
 ough ; went back to the reign of Queen Anne, and talked of 
 the great support the Duke of Marlborough had received from 
 the crown, and the little support the Duke of Wellington had 
 had in the outset of his career, though after the battle of 
 Vimeiro he had been backed by all the energies of the coun- 
 try ; that, notwithstanding his difficulties, his career had been 
 one continued course of victory over the armies of France ; 
 and then recollecting the presence of Laval, the French Am- 
 bassador, he said, " Remember, Due de Laval, when I talk of 
 victories over the French armies, they were not the armies of 
 my ally and friend the King of France, but of him who had 
 usurped his throne, and against whom you yourself were com- 
 bating ;" then going back to the Duke's career, and again 
 referring to the comparison between him and Marlborough, 
 and finishing by adverting to his political position, that he had 
 on mounting the throne found the Duke minister, and that he 
 had retained him because he thought his administration had 
 been and would be highly beneficial to the country ; that he 
 gave to him his fullest and most cordial confidence, and that 
 he announced to all whom he saw around him, to all the Am- 
 bassadors and ministers of foreign powers, and to all the 
 noblemen and gentlemen present, that as long as he should 
 sit upon the throne he should continue to give him the same 
 confidence. The Duke returned thanks in a short speech, 
 thanking the King for his confidence and support, and declar- 
 ing that all his endeavors would be used to keep this country 
 in relations of harmony with other nations. The whole com- 
 pany stood aghast at the King's extraordinary speech and dec- 
 laration. Matuscewitz told me he never was so astonished ; 
 that for the world he would not have missed it, and that he 
 would never have believed in it if he had not heard it.
 
 160 THE GKEVILLE MEMOIRS. [1830. 
 
 Falck 1 gave me a delightful account of the speech and of 
 Laval. He thought, not understanding one word, that all the 
 King was saying was complimentary to the King of France 
 and the French nation, and he kept darting from his seat to 
 make his acknowledgments, while Esterhazy heM him down 
 by the tail of his coat, and the King stopped him with his 
 hand outstretched, all with great difficulty. He said it was 
 very comical. 
 
 July zjlh. Review in the morning (yesterday), breakfast 
 at Apsley House, chapter of the Garter, dinner at St. James's, 
 party in the evening, and ball at Apsley House. I don't hear 
 of anything remarkable, and it was so hot I could not go to 
 anything, except the breakfast, which I just looked into for a 
 minute, and found everybody sweating and stuffing and the 
 royalties just going away. The Duke of Gloucester keeps up 
 his quarrel with the Duke ; the Duke of Cumberland won't go 
 to Apsley House, but sent the Duchess and his boy. The 
 Queen said at dinner the other day to the Duke of Cumber- 
 land, " I am very much pleased with you for sending the 
 Duchess to Apsley House," and then turned to the Duke of 
 Gloucester and said, " but I am not pleased with you for not 
 letting the Duchess go there." The fool answered that the 
 Duchess should never go there ; he would not be reconciled, 
 forgetting that it matters not twopence to the Duke of Wel- 
 lington and a great deal to himself. 
 
 July zgth. Yesterday a standing council at the levee, 
 to swear in Lord Hereford and Vesey Fitzgerald, and to de- 
 clare Lord Bathurst President of the Council and the Duke of 
 Northumberland Lord-lieutenant of Ireland. Previously the 
 King received the address of the dissenting ministers, and 
 then that of the Quakers, presented by William Allen ; they 
 were very prim and respectable persons ; their hats were taken 
 off by each other in the room before the throne room, and they 
 
 1 Baron Falck, Dutch Minister at the court of St. James. M. de Laval was the 
 French Ambassador. This dinner took place on the day after the publication of the 
 ordinances of July. Three days later Charles X. had ceased to reign. M. de Laval 
 instantly left London on the receipt of the intelligence, leaving M. de Vaudreuil as 
 charge 1 d'affaires.
 
 1830.] NEWS FROM FRANCE. l6l 
 
 did not bow, though they seemed half inclined to do so ; they 
 made a very loyal address, but without " Majesty," and said 
 " O King." There was a question after his answer what they 
 should do. I thought it was whether they should kiss hands, 
 for the King said something to Peel, who went and asked 
 them, and I heard the King say, " Oh, just as they like ; they 
 need n't if they don't like ; it 's all one." 
 
 But the great event of the day was the reception of the King 
 of France's two decrees, and the address of his ministers, 
 who produced them ; nothing could surpass the universal as- 
 tonishment and consternation. Falck told me he was reading 
 the newspaper at his breakfast regularly through, and when he 
 came to this the teacup almost dropped from his hands, and 
 he rubbed his eyes to see whether he read correctly. Such 
 was the secrecy with which this measure was conceived and 
 acted on, that Pozzo, who is quicker and has better intelligence 
 than anybody, had not a notion of it, as Matuscewitz told me. 
 Aberdeen learnt it through the " Times," and had not a line 
 from Stuart. That, however, is nothing extraordinary. I 
 suspect somebody had it, for Raikes wrote me a note the day 
 before, to ask me if there was not something bad from France. 
 Matuscewitz told me that Russia would not afford Charles X. 
 the smallest support in his new crusade against the Constitu- 
 tion of France, and this he pronounced openly a qui voulait 
 F entendre. I suspect the Duke will be desperately annoyed. 
 The only minister I had a word with about it was Lord 
 Bathurst, whose Tory blood bubbled a little quicker at such 
 a despotic act, and while owning the folly of the deed, he 
 could not help adding that " he should have repressed the 
 press when he dissolved the Chambers, then he might have 
 done it." 
 
 July ^Qth. Everybody anxious for news from France. A 
 few hope, and still fewer think, the King of France will succeed, 
 and that the French will submit ; but the press here joins in 
 grand chorus against the suppression of the liberty of that 
 over the water. Matuscewitz told me he had a conference 
 with the Duke, who was excessively annoyed, but what seems 
 11
 
 1 62 THE GREVILLE ML \IOIRS. [1830. 
 
 to have struck him more than anything is the extraordinary 
 secrecy of the business, and neither Pozzo nor Stuart having 
 known one word of it. Up to the last Polignac has deceived 
 everybody, and put such words into the King's mouth that 
 nobody could expect such a coup. The King assured Pozzo di 
 Borgo the day before that nothing of the sort was in con- 
 templation. This, like everything else, will be judged by the 
 event desperate fatuity if it fails, splendid energy and ac- 
 curate calculation of opposite moral forces if it succeeds. I 
 judge that it will fail, because I can see no marks of wisdom 
 in the style of execution, and the state paper is singularly 
 puerile and weak in argument. It is passionate and not dex- 
 terous, not even plausible. All this is wonderfully interesting, 
 and will give us a lively autumn. 
 
 The King has been to Woolwich, inspecting the artillery, 
 to whom he gave a dinner, with toasts and hip, hip, hurrahing 
 and three times three, himself giving the time. I tremble for 
 him ; at present he is only a mountebank, but he bids fair to 
 be a maniac. 
 
 Brougham will come in for Yorkshire without a contest 
 his address was very eloquent. He is rather mad without a 
 doubt ; his speeches this year have been sometimes more 
 brilliant than ever they were ; but who with such stupendous 
 talents was ever so little considered ? We admire him as \ve 
 do a fine actor, and nobody ever possessed such enormous 
 means, and displayed a mind so versatile, fertile, and com- 
 prehensive, and yet had so little efficacy and influence. He 
 told me just before he left town that Yorkshire had been pro- 
 posed to him, but that he had written word he would not stand, 
 nor spend a guinea, nor go there, nor even take the least 
 trouble about the concerns of any one of his constituents, if 
 they elected him, but he soon changed his note. 
 
 July 3U/. Yesterday morning I met Matuscewitz in St. 
 James Street, who said, " You have heard the news?" But 
 I had not, so I got into his cabriolet, and he told me that 
 Biilow had just been with him with an account of Roth- 
 schild's estafette, who had brought intelligence of a desperate
 
 1830.] REVOLUTION l.V FRANCE. 163 
 
 conflict at Paris between the people and the Royal Guard, in 
 which 1,000 men had been killed of the former, and of the 
 eventual revolt of two regiments, which decided the business ; 
 that the Swiss had refused to fire on the people ; the King is 
 gone to Rambouillet, the ministers are missing, and the depu- 
 ties who were at Paris had assembled in the Chambers, and 
 declared their sittings permanent. Nothing can exceed the 
 interest and excitement that all these proceedings create here, 
 and unless there is a reaction, which does not seem probable, 
 the game is up with the Bourbons. They richly deserve their 
 fate. It remains to be seen what part Bourmont and the Al- 
 gerian army will take ; the latter will probably side with the 
 nation, and the former will be guided by his own interest, and 
 is not unlikely to endeavor to direct a spirit which he could 
 not expect to control. He may reconcile himself to the country 
 by a double treachery. 
 
 At night. To-day at one o'clock Stuart's messenger ar- 
 rived with a meagre account, having left Paris on the night of 
 the 29th. The tricolored flag had been raised ; the National 
 Guard was up, commanded by old Lafayette (their chief forty 
 years ago), who ruled in -Paris with Ge"rard, Odier, Casimir 
 Pe'rier, Lafitte, and one or two more. The Tuileries and 
 the Louvre had been pillaged ; the King was at Rambouillet, 
 where Marshal Marmont had retired, and had with him a 
 a large force. Nobody, however, believed they would fight 
 against the people. The deputies and the peers had met, and 
 the latter separated without doing anything ; the former had a 
 stormy discussion, but came to no resolution. Some were for 
 a republic, some for the Duke of Orleans, some for the Duke 
 of Bordeaux with the Duke of Orleans as regent. Rothschild 
 had another courier with later intelligence. The King had 
 desired to treat, and that proposals might be made to him ; all 
 the ministers escaped from Paris by a subterranean passage 
 which led from the Tuileries to the river, and even at St. Cloud 
 the Duke told Matuscevvitz that " Marmont had taken up a 
 good military position," as if it was a military and not a moral 
 question. Strange he should think of such a thing, but they
 
 1 64 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1830. 
 
 are all terrified to death at the national flag and colors, because 
 they see in its train revolutions, invasions, and a thousand 
 alarms. I own I would rather have seen an easy transfer of 
 the crown to some other head under the white flag. There 
 was Lady Tankerville going about to-day inquiring of every- 
 body for news, trembling for her brother " and his brigade." 
 Late in the day she got Lady Jersey to go with her to Roth- 
 schild, whom she saw, and Madame Rothschild, who showed 
 her all their letters. Tankerville, who is a sour, malignant 
 little Whig (since became an ultra-Tory), loudly declares 
 Polignac ought to be hung. The elections here are going 
 against government, and no candidate will avow that he stands 
 on government interest, or with the intention of supporting 
 the Duke's ministry, which looks as if it had lost all its pop- 
 ularity. 
 
 August id. Yesterday (Sunday) we had no news and no 
 reports, except one that Marmont was killed. I never be- 
 lieve reports. The elections still go against government. G. 
 Dawson returned from Dublin ; all the Peels lose their seats. 
 Fordwich beat Baring at Canterbury by 370 votes. It is said 
 the King was in a state of great excitement at Woolwich the 
 other day, when it was very hot, and he drank a good deal of 
 wine. 
 
 Evening. This morning, on going into town, I read in the 
 " Times " the news of the day the proclamation of the pro- 
 visional government, the invitation to the Duke of Orleans, 
 his proclamation, and the account of the conversation between 
 Lafitte and Marmont. It is in vain to look for private or 
 official information, for the " Times " always has the latest 
 and the best ; Stuart sends next to nothing. Soon after I got 
 to George Street the Duke of Wellington came in, in excellent 
 spirits, and talked over the whole matter. He said he could 
 not comprehend how the Royal Guard had been defeated by 
 the mob, and particularly how they had been forced to evacuate 
 the Tuileries ; that he had seen English and French troops 
 hold houses whole days not one fourth so strong. I said that 
 there could not be a shadow of doubt that it was because they
 
 1830.] REVOLUTION IN FRANCE. 165 
 
 would not fight, that if they would have fought they must 
 have beat the mob, and reminded him of the French at Madrid, 
 and asked him if he did not think his regiment would beat all 
 the populace of London, which he said it would. He described 
 the whole affair as it has taken place, and said that there can 
 be no doubt that the moneyed men of Paris (who are all 
 against the government) and the Liberals had foreseen a 
 violent measure on the part of the King, and had organized the 
 resistance ; that on the appearance of the edicts the bankers 
 simultaneously refused to discount any bills, on which the 
 great manufacturers and merchants dismissed their workmen, 
 to- the number of many thousands, who inflamed the public 
 discontent, and united to oppose the military and the execution 
 of the decrees. He said positively that we should not take 
 any part, and that no other government ought or could. He 
 does not like the Duke of Orleans, and thinks his proclama- 
 tion mean and shabby, but owned that under all circumstances 
 his election to the crown would probably be the best thing 
 that could happen. The Duke of Chartres he had known 
 here, and thought he was intelligent. The Duke considered 
 the thing as settled, but did not feel at all sure they would 
 offer the crown to the Duke of Orleans. He said he could 
 not guess or form an opinion- as to their ulterior proceedings. 
 After discussing the whole business with his usual simplic- 
 ity, he began talking of the Duke of Cumberland and his res- 
 ignation of the command of the Blues. Formerly the colonels 
 of the two regiments of Life Guards held alternately the 
 gold stick, and these two regiments were under the immedi- 
 ate orders of the King, and not of the Commander-in-chief. 
 When the Duke of Wellington returned from Spain and had 
 the command of the Blues, the King insisted upon his taking 
 the duty also ; so it was divided into three, but the Blues 
 still continued under the Commander-in-chief. But when the 
 Duke of Cumberland wanted to be continually about the King, 
 he got him to give him the command of the household troops ; 
 this was at the period of the death of the Duke of York 
 and the Duke of Wellington's becoming commander-in-chief .
 
 1 66 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1830. 
 
 The Duke of Cumberland told the Duke of Wellington that 
 he had received the King's verbal commands to that effect, 
 and from that time he alone kept the gold stick, and the 
 Blues were withdrawn from the authority of the Commander- 
 in-chief. The Duke of Wellington made no opposition ; but 
 last year, during the uproar on the Catholic question, he per- 
 ceived the inconvenience of the arrangement, and intended 
 to speak to the King about it, for the Duke of Cumberland 
 was concerned in organizing mobs to go down to Windsor 
 to frighten Lady Conyngham and the King, and the Horse 
 Guards, who would naturally have been called out to suppress 
 any tumult, would not have been disposable without the Duke 
 of Cumberland's concurrence, so much so that on one partic- 
 ular occasion, when the Kentish men were to have gone to 
 Windsor 20,000 strong, the Duke of Wellington detained a 
 regiment of light cavalry who were marching elsewhere, that 
 he might not be destitute of military aid. Before, however, 
 he did anything about this with the King (' I always," he 
 said, " do one thing at a time "), his Majesty was taken ill and 
 died. 
 
 On the accession of the present King the Duke of Cum- 
 berland wished to continue the same system, which his Maj- 
 esty was resolved he should not, and he ordered that the 
 colonels of the regiments should take the stick in rotation. 
 He also ordered (through Sir R. Peel) that Lord Combermere 
 should command the troops at the funeral as gold stick. 
 This the Duke of Cumberland resisted, and sent down orders 
 to Lord Cathcart to assume the command. The Duke of 
 Wellington, however, represented to Lord Cathcart that he 
 had better do no such thing, as nobody could disobey the 
 King's orders gone through the Secretary of State, and ac- 
 cordingly he did nothing. But the King was determined to 
 put an end to the pretensions of the Duke of Cumberland, 
 and spoke to the Duke on the subject, and said that he would 
 have all the regiments placed under the orders of the Com- 
 mander-in-chief. The Duke recommended him to replace 
 the matter in the state in which it stood before the Duke
 
 1830.] WARDROBE OE GEORGE IV. l6/ 
 
 of Cumberland's pretensions had altered it, but he would not 
 do this, and chose to abide by his original intention ; so the 
 three regiments were placed under the orders of the Horse 
 Guards like the rest, and the Duke of Cumberland in conse- 
 quence resigned the command of the Blues. 
 
 August 3</. Notwithstanding the above story, the King 
 dined with the Duke of Cumberland at Kew yesterday. I 
 went yesterday to the sale of the late King's wardrobe, which 
 was numerous enough to fill Monmouth Street, and sufficiently 
 various and splendid for the wardrobe of Drury Lane. He 
 hardly ever gave away anything except his linen, which was 
 distributed every year. These clothes are the perquisite of 
 his pages, and will fetch a pretty sum. There are all the coats 
 he has ever had for fifty years, 300 whips, canes without num- 
 ber, every sort of uniform, the costumes of all the orders in 
 Europe, splendid furs, pelisses, hunting-coats and breeches, 
 and among other things a dozen pair of corduroy breeches he 
 had made to hunt in when Don Miguel was here. His pro- 
 fusion in these articles was unbounded, because he never paid 
 for them, and his memory was so accurate that one of his 
 pages told me he recollected every article of dress, no matter 
 how old, and that they were always liable to be called on to 
 produce some particular coat or other article of apparel of 
 years gone by. It is difficult to say whether in great or little 
 things that man was most odious and contemptible. 
 
 August $th, Yesterday morning at a council; all the 
 ministers, and the Duke of Rutland, Lords Somers, Rosslyn, 
 and Gower to be sworn lieutenants. Talked about France 
 with Sir G. Murray, who was silly enough to express his dis- 
 appointment that things promised to be soon and quietly set- 
 tled, and hoped the King would have assembled an army and 
 fought for it. Afterwards a levee. While the Queen was in 
 the closet they brought her word that Charles X. was at 
 Cherbourg and had sent for leave to come here, but nobody 
 knew yesterday if this was true or not. In the afternoon I 
 met Vaudreuil and had a long conversation with him on the 
 state of things. He said, " My family has been twice ruined
 
 1 68 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1830. 
 
 by these cursed Bourbons, and I will be damned if they shall 
 a third time ; " that he had long foreseen the inevitable ten- 
 dency of Polignac's determination, ever since he was here, 
 when he had surrounded himself with low agents and would 
 admit no gentleman into his confidence ; one of his affi&svizs 
 a man of the name of Carrier, a relation of the famous Carrier 
 de Nantes. Vaudreuil's father-in-law had consulted him 
 many months ago what to do with 3OO,ooo/. which he had in 
 the French funds, and he advised him to sell it out and put it 
 in his drawer, which he did, sacrificing the interest for that 
 time. He had hitherto done nothing, been near none of the 
 ministers, feeling that he could say nothing to them : no com- 
 munication had been made to him, but whenever any should 
 be he intended to reply to it. Laval ran away just in time, 
 and Vaudreuil was so provoked at his evasion that he sent 
 after him to say that in such important circumstances he could 
 not take upon himself to act without his ambassador's in- 
 structions. No answer of course. He thinks that if this 
 had not taken place a few years must have terminated the 
 reign of the Bourbons, and that it is only the difference be- 
 tween sudden and lingering death ; that when he was at 
 Paris he had seen the dissatisfaction of the young officers in 
 the Guards, who were all Liberal ; and with these sentiments, 
 what a condition they must have been in when called upon to 
 charge and fire on the people while secretly approving of their 
 conduct, " entre leurs devoirs de citoyens et de militaires" 
 
 Goodwood, August loth. On Saturday, the 7th, the King 
 and Queen breakfasted at Osterley, on their way to Windsor. 
 They had about sixty or seventy people to meet them, and it 
 all went off very well, without anything remarkable. I went 
 to Stoke afterwards, where there was the usual sort of party. 
 
 The King entered Windsor so privately that few people 
 knew him, though he made the horses walk all the way from 
 Frogmore that he might be seen. On Saturday and Sunday 
 the Terrace was thrown open, and the latter day it was 
 crowded by multitudes and a very gay sight ; there were sen- 
 tinels on each side of the east front to prevent people walking
 
 1830.] LOUIS PHILIPPE. 169 
 
 under the windows of the living-rooms, but they might go 
 where else they liked. The King went to Bagshot and did 
 not appear. All the late King's private drives through the 
 Park are also thrown open, but not to carriages. We went, 
 however, a long string of four carriages, to explore, and got 
 through the whole drive round by Virginia Water, the famous 
 fishing-pagoda, and saw all the penetralia of the late King, 
 whose ghost must have been indignant at seeing us (Sefton 
 particularly) scampering all about his most secret recesses. 
 It is an exceedingly enjoyable spot, and pretty, but has not so 
 much beauty as I expected. 
 
 London, August \^th. Stayed at Goodwood till the I2th ; 
 went to Brighton, riding over the downs from Goodwood to 
 Arundel ; a delightful ride. How much I prefer England to 
 Italy. There we have mountains and sky ; here, vegetation 
 and verdure, fine trees and soft turf ; and in the long run the 
 latter are the most enjoyable. Yesterday came to London 
 from Brighton ; found things much as they were, but almost 
 everybody gone out of town. The French are proceeding 
 steadily in the reconstruction of their government, but they 
 have evinced a strong democratical spirit. The new King, 
 too, conducts himself in a way that gives me a bad opinion of 
 him ; he is too complaisant to the rage for equality, and 
 stoops more than he need do ; in fact, he overdoes it. It is a 
 piece of abominably bad taste (to say no worse) to have con- 
 ferred a pension on the author of the Marseillaise hymn ; for 
 what can be worse than to rake up the old ashes of Jacob- 
 inism, and what more necessary than to distinguish as much 
 as possible this revolution from that of 1789 ? Then he need 
 not be more familiar as King than he ever was as Duke of 
 Orleans, and affect the manners of a citizen and a plainness of 
 dress and demeanor very suitable to an American President, 
 but unbecoming a descendant of Louis XIV. 
 
 In the mean time we hear nothing of the old King, who 
 marches slowly on with his family. It has been reported in 
 London that Polignac is here, and also that he is taken. No- 
 body knows the truth. I have heard of his behavior, how-
 
 I/O THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1830 
 
 ever, which was worthy of his former imbecility. He re- 
 mained in the same presumptuous confidence up to the last 
 moment, telling those who implored him to retract while it 
 was still time, that they did not know France, that he did, that 
 it was essentially Royalist, and all resistance would be over in 
 a day or two, till the whole ruin burst on him at once, when 
 he became like a man awakened from a dream, utterly con- 
 founded with the magnitude of the calamity and as pusillani- 
 mous and miserable as he had before been blind and confi- 
 dent. It must be owned that their end has been worthy of 
 the rest, for not one of them has evinced good feeling, or mag- 
 nanimity, or courage in their fall, nor excited the least sympa- 
 thy or commiseration. The Duke of Fitzjames made a good 
 speech in the Chamber of Peers, and Chateaubriand a very 
 fine one a few days before, full of eloquence in support of the 
 claim of the Duke of Bordeaux against that of Louis Phil- 
 ippe I. 
 
 August 2oth. On Monday to Stoke; Alvanley. Fitzroy 
 Somerset, Matuscewitz, Stanislas Potocki, Glengall, and Mor- 
 nay were there. Lady Sefton (who had dined at the Castle a 
 few days before) asked the King to allow her to take Stanislas 
 Potocki to see Virginia Water in a carriage, which is not al- 
 lowed, but which his Majesty agreed to. Accordingly we 
 started, and going through the private drives, .went up to the 
 door of the tent opposite the fishing-house. They thought it 
 was the Queen coming, or at any rate a party from the Castle, 
 for the man on board the little frigate hoisted all the colors, 
 and the boatmen on the other side got ready the royal barge 
 to take us across. We went all over the place on both sides, 
 and were delighted with the luxury and beauty of the whole 
 thing. On one side are a number of tents, communicating 
 together in separate apartments and forming a very good 
 house, a dining-room, drawing-room, and several other small 
 rooms, very well furnished ; across the water is the fishing- 
 cottage, beautifully ornamented, with one large room and a 
 dressing-room on each side ; the kitchen and offices are in a 
 garden full of flowers, shut out from everything. Opposite
 
 1830.] GEORGE IV. 171 
 
 the windows is moored a large boat, in which the band used 
 to play during dinner, and in summer the late King dined 
 every day either in the house or in the tents. We had 
 scarcely seen everything when Mr. Turner, the head keeper, 
 arrived in great haste, having spied us from the opposite side, 
 and very angry at our carriages having come there, which is a 
 thing forbidden ; he did not know of our leave, nor could we 
 even satisfy him that we were not to blame. 
 
 The next day I called on Batchelor (he was valet de chambre 
 to the Duke of York, afterwards to George IV.), who has an 
 excellent apartment in the Lodge, which, he said, was once 
 occupied by Nell Gwynne, though I did not know the Lodge 
 was built at that time. I was there a couple of hours, and 
 heard all the details of the late King's illness and other 
 things. For many months before his death those who were 
 about him were aware of his danger, but nobody dared to say 
 a word. The King liked to cheat people with making them 
 think he was well, and when he had been at a council he 
 would return to his apartments and tell his valets de chambre 
 how he had deceived them. During his illness he was gener- 
 ally cheerful, but occasionally dejected, and constantly talked 
 of his brother the Duke of York, and of the similarity of their 
 symptoms, and was always comparing them. He had been 
 latterly more civil to Knighton than he used to be, and 
 Knighton's attentions to him were incessant ; whenever he 
 thought himself worse than usual, and in immediate danger, 
 he always sent for Sir William. Lady Conyngham and her 
 family went into his room once a day ; till his illness he al- 
 ways used to go and sit in hers. It is true that last year, 
 when she was so ill, she was very anxious to leave the Castle, 
 and it was Sir William Knighton who with great difficulty in- 
 duced her to stay there. At that time she was in wretched 
 spirits, and did nothing but pray from morning till night. 
 However, her conscience does not seem ever to have inter- 
 ferred with her ruling passion, avarice, and she went on accu- 
 mulating. During the last illness wagons were loaded every 
 night and sent away from the Castle, but what their contents
 
 1/2 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1830. 
 
 were was not known, at least Batchelor did not say. All 
 Windsor knew this. Those servants of the King who were 
 about his person had opportunities of hearing a great deal, for 
 he used to talk of everybody before them, and without reserve 
 or measure. 
 
 This man Batchelor had become a great favorite with the 
 late King. The first of his pages, William Holmes, had for 
 some time been prevented by ill health from attending him. 
 Holmes had been with him from a boy, and was also a great 
 favorite ; by appointments and perquisites he had as much as 
 I2,ooo/. or I4,ooo/. a year, but he had spent so much in all 
 sorts of debauchery, and living like a gentleman, that he was 
 nearly ruined. There seems to have been no end to the tra- 
 casseries between these men ; their anxiety to get what they 
 could out of the King's wardrobe in the last weeks, and their 
 dishonesty in the matter, were excessive, all which he told me 
 in great detail. The King was more than anybody the slave 
 of habit and open to impressions, and even when he did not 
 like people he continued to keep them about him rather than 
 change. 
 
 Brougham is to lead this opposition in the House of Com- 
 mons, and Lord Grey in the Lords, and nothing is to be done, 
 but as the result of general deliberation and agreement. 
 Brougham in the mean time has finished his triumph at York 
 in a miserable way, having insulted Martin Stapylton on the 
 hustings, who called him to account, and then he forgot what 
 he had said, and slunk away with a disclaimer of unintentional 
 offense, as usual beginning with intemperance and ending 
 with submission. His speeches were never good, but at his 
 own dinner he stated so many untruths about the Duke of 
 Wellington that his own partisans bawled out " No, no," and 
 it was a complete failure. His whole spirit there was as bad 
 as possible, paltry and commonplace. That man, with all his 
 talents, never can or will do in any situation ; he is base, cow- 
 ardly, and unprincipled, and with all the execrable judgment 
 which, I believe, often flows from the perversion of moral sen- 
 timent. Nobody can admire his genius, eloquence, variety
 
 1830.] CHARLES X. 173 
 
 and extent of information, and the charm ot his society more 
 than I do ; but his faults are glaring, and the effects of them 
 manifest to anybody who will compare his means and their 
 results. 
 
 August 23</. General Baudrand is come over with a 
 letter from King Louis Philippe to King William. He saw 
 the Duke and Aberdeen yesterday. Charles X. goes to Lul- 
 worth Castle. What are called moderate people are greatly 
 alarmed at the aspect of affairs in France, but I think the law 
 (which will be carried) of abolishing capital punishment in po- 
 litical cases is calculated to tranquillize men's minds every- 
 where, for it draws such a line between the old and the new 
 revolution. The ministers will be tried and banished, but no 
 blood spilt. Lord Anglesey went to see Charles X., and told 
 him openly his opinion of his conduct. The King laid it all 
 upon Polignac. The people of Paris wanted to send over a 
 deputation to thank the English for their sympathy and assist- 
 ance a sort of fraternizing affair but the King would not 
 permit it, which was wisely done, and it is a good thing to see 
 that he can curb in some degree that spirit ; this Vaudreuil 
 told me last night. It would have given great offense and 
 caused great alarm here. 
 
 August 2^th. Alvanley had a letter from Montrond yes- 
 terday from Paris. He was with M. Mole when a letter was 
 brought him from Polignac, beginning, " Man cher Collegue" 
 and saying that he wrote to him to ask his advice what he had 
 better do ; that he should have liked to retire to his own estate, 
 but it was too near Paris ; that he should like to go into Al- 
 sace, and that he begged he would arrange it for him, and in 
 the mean time send him some boots, and shirts, and breeches. 
 
 The French King continues off Cowes, many people visit- 
 ing him. They came off without clothes or preparation of any 
 kind, so much so that Lady Grantham has been obliged to 
 furnish Mesdames de Berri and D'Angouleme with every- 
 thing ; it seems they have plenty of money. The King says 
 he and his son have retired from public life ; and as to his 
 grandson, he must wait the progress of events ; that his con- 
 science reproaches him with nothing.
 
 174 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1830. 
 
 The dinner in St. George's Hall on the King's birthday was 
 the finest thing possible all good and hot, and served on the 
 late King's gold plate. There were one hundred people at 
 table. After dinner the King gave the Duke of Wellington's 
 health, as it was the anniversary of Vimeiro ; the Dukes of 
 Cumberland and Gloucester turned their glasses down. I 
 can't agree with Charles X. that it would be better to " tra- 
 vailler pour son pain than to be King of England." 
 
 At night. Went to Lady Glengall's to meet Marmont. 
 He likes talking of his adventures, but he had done his Paris 
 talk before I got there ; however, he said a great deal about 
 old campaigning and Bonaparte, which, as well as I recollect, 
 I will put down. 
 
 As to the battle of Salamanca, he remarked that, without 
 meaning to detract from the glory of the English arms, he 
 was inferior in force there ; our army was provided with 
 everything, well paid, and the country favorable, his " dtnute 
 de tout" without pay, in a hostile country ; that all his provis- 
 ions came from a great distance and under great escorts, and 
 his communications were kept up in the same way. Of Rus- 
 sia, he said that Bonaparte's army was destroyed by the time 
 he got to Moscow, destroyed by famine ; that there were two 
 ways of making war, by slow degrees with magazines, or by 
 rapid movements and reaching places where abundant means 
 of supply and reorganization were to be found, as he had 
 done at Vienna and elsewhere ; but in Russia supplies were 
 not to be had. Napoleon had, however, pushed on with the 
 same rapidity and destroyed his army. Marshal Davoust (I 
 think, but am not sure) had a corps d'armee of 80,000 men, 
 and reached Moscow with 15,000; the cavalry were 50,000 
 sabres, at Moscow they were 6,000. Somebody asked him if 
 Napoleon's generals had not dissuaded him from going to 
 Russia. Marmont said no ; they liked it ; but Napoleon ought 
 to have stopped at Smolensk, made Poland independent, and 
 levied 50,000 Cossacks, the Polish Cossacks being better than 
 the Russian, who would have kept all his communications 
 clear, and allowed the French army to repose, and then he
 
 1830.] NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 175 
 
 would have done in two campaigns what he wished to accom- 
 plish in one ; instead of which he never would deal with Po- 
 land liberally, but held back with ulterior views, and never 
 got the Poles cordially with him. Of the campaign of 1813 
 he said, that it was ill conducted by Napoleon and full of 
 faults ; his creation of the army was wonderful, and the battle 
 of Dresden would have been a great movement if he had not 
 suddenly abandoned Vandamme after pushing him on to cut 
 off the retreat of the allies. It was an immense fault to leave 
 all the garrisons in the Prussian and Saxon fortresses. The 
 campaign of 1814 was one of his most brilliant. He (Mar- 
 mont) commanded a corps d'armee, and fought in most of the 
 celebrated actions, but he never had 4,000 men : at Paris, 
 which he said was " the most honorable part of his whole 
 career," he had 7,500.* Napoleon committed a great fault in 
 throwing himself into the rear as he did ; he should have 
 fallen back upon Paris, where his own presence would have 
 been of vast importance, and sent Marmont into the rear with 
 what troops he could collect. I repeated what the Duke of 
 Wellington had once told me, that if the Emperor had contin- 
 ued the same plan, and fallen back on Paris, he would have 
 obliged the allies to retreat, and asked him what he thought. 
 He rather agreed with this, but said the Emperor had con- 
 ceived one of the most splendid pieces of strategy that ever 
 had been devised, which failed by the disobedience of Eugene. 
 He sent orders to Eugene to assemble his army, in which he 
 had 35,000 French troops, to amuse the Austrians by a nego- 
 tiation for the evacuation of Italy ; to throw the Italian troops 
 into Alexandria and Mantua ; to destroy the other fortresses, 
 and going by forced marches with his French troops, force 
 the passage of Mont Cenis, collect the scattered corps cFarmte 
 of Augereau (who was near Lyons) and another French gen- 
 eral, which would have made his force amount to above 60,000 
 men, and burst upon the rear of the allies so as to cut off all 
 their communications. These orders he sent to Eugene, but 
 
 1 This assertion of Marmont's is the more curious as it was to his alleged treachery 
 that Napoleon when at Fontainebleau chose to ascribe his defeat-
 
 i;6 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. 11830. 
 
 Eugene " revait d'etre roi (T Italic apres sa chute" and he 
 sent his aide-de-camp Tascher to excuse himself. The move- 
 ment was not made, and the game was up. Lady Dudley 
 Stewart was there, Lucien's daughter and Bonaparte's niece. 
 Marmont was presented to her, and she heard him narrate all 
 this ; there is something very simple, striking, and soldierlike 
 in his manner and appearance. He is going to Russia. 
 
 He was very communicative about events at Paris, la- 
 mented his own ill-luck, involved in the business against his 
 his wishes and feelings ; he disapproved of Polignac and his 
 measures, and had no notion the, ordonnances were thought of. 
 In the morning he was going to St. Germain for the day ; 
 when his aide-de-camp brought him the newspaper with the 
 ordonnances il tomba de son haut. Soon after the Dauphin 
 sent to him to desire that, as there might be some " vitres 
 cassees" he would take the command of the troops. Di- 
 rectly after the thing began. He had 7,000 or 8,000 men ; 
 not a preparation had been made of any sort ; they had never 
 thought of resistance, had not consulted Marmont or any 
 military man ; he soon found how hopeless the case was, and 
 sent eight estafettes to the King, one after another, during 
 the action to tell him so and implore him to stop while it was 
 time. They never returned any answer. He then rode out 
 to St. Cloud, where he implored the King to yield. It was 
 not till after seven hours' pressing that he consented to name 
 M. de Mortemart minister, but would not withdraw the edicts. 
 He says that up to Wednesday night they would have com- 
 promised and accepted M. de Mortemart and the suppression 
 of the edicts, but the King still demurred. On Wednesday 
 night he yielded, but then the communications were inter- 
 rupted. That night the meeting at the Palais Royal took 
 place, at which the King's fate was determined ; and on 
 Thursday morning, when his offers arrived, it was too late, 
 and they would no longer treat. Marmont said he had been 
 treated with the greatest ingratitude by the court, and had 
 taken leave of them forever, coldly of the King and Dau- 
 phin ; the Duchess of Berri alone shook hands with him and
 
 1830.] GENERAL MARMONT. \JJ 
 
 thanked him for his services and fidelity. He says never 
 man waft so unlucky, that he was marechal de quartier and 
 could not refuse to serve, but he only acted on the defensive ; 
 2,000 of the troops and 1,500 of the populace were killed. 
 The Swiss did not behave well, but the Lanciers de la Garde 
 beautifully, and all the troops were acting against their feel- 
 ings and opinions. Marmont said that Stuart had sent Cra- 
 dock to Charles X. to desire he would go as slowly as he could, 
 to give time for a reaction which he expected would take 
 place. Cradock did go to the King, but I rather doubt this 
 story. 1 
 
 August zjth. At court the day before yesterday; Par- 
 liament was prorogued and summoned. General Baudrand 
 came afterwards and delivered his letter, also a private letter 
 " from the Duke of Orleans to the Duke of Clarence " as 
 the French King called them, " anciens amis." He was well 
 received and well satisfied. I never knew such a burst of in- 
 dignation and contempt as Polignac's letter has caused a 
 letter to the President of the Chamber of Peers. As Dudley 
 says, it has saved history the trouble of crucifying that man, 
 and speaks volumes about the recent events. Such a man to 
 have been prime minister of France for a year. 
 
 August 2.gth. Dined with Dudley the day before yester- 
 day to meet Marmont, who is made very much of here by 
 the few people who are left. He had been to Woolwich in 
 the morning, where the Duke of Wellington had given orders 
 
 1 Colonel Cradock (the late Lord Howden) was sent by the Ambassador to the 
 King, and had an audience at Rambouillet, but it was at the request and instigation 
 of the Duke of Orleans. The proposal intrusted to Colonel Cradock was to the 
 effect that the King and the Dauphin, having abdicated, should quit France with the 
 Princesses, but that Henry V. should be proclaimed King under the regency of 
 the Duke of Orleans. Louis Philippe offered to support this arrangement, and fco 
 carry on the government as Regent, if Charles X. sanctioned it. The King re- 
 ceived the communication in bed. The Duchess of Angouleme was consulted, and 
 vehemently opposed the scheme, because, said she, speaking of the Orleans family, 
 " its soni tonjoitrs Its monies,''' and she referred to the preposterous stories current 
 at the time of the death of the Due de Bourgogne, and the regency of 1713- The 
 offer was therefore rejected. These facts were not known to Mr. Greville at the 
 .ime, nor till long afterwards, but they confirm his information that " Cradock did 
 to to the King." 
 
 12
 
 178 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. 11830. 
 
 that everything should be shown to him, and the honors 
 handsomely done. He was very much gratified, and he found 
 the man who had pointed the gun which wounded him at Sal- 
 amanca, and who had since lost his own arm at Waterloo. 
 Marmont shook hands with him and said, " Ah, man ami, 
 chacun a son tour." Lady Aldborough came in the evening, 
 and flew up to him with " Ah, mon cher Marechal, ernbrassez- 
 moi ; " and so after escaping the cannon's mouth at Paris he 
 was obliged to face Lady Aldborough's mouth here. 
 
 Stoke, August 31 st. On Sunday I met Prince Esterhazy l 
 in Oxford Street with a face a yard long. He turned back 
 with me, and told me that there had been disturbances at 
 Brussels, but that they had been put down by the gendarmerie. 
 He was mightily alarmed, but said that his government would 
 recognize the French king directly, and in return for such gen- 
 eral and prompt recognition as he was receiving he must 
 restrain France from countenancing revolutions in other coun- 
 tries, and that, indeed, he had lost no time in declaring his 
 intention to abstain from any meddling. In the evening Vaud- 
 reuil told me the same thing, and that he had received a dis- 
 patch from M. Mold desiring him to refuse passports to the 
 Spaniards who wanted, on the strength of the French Revolu- 
 tion, to go and foment the discontents in Spain, and to all 
 other foreigners who, being dissatisfied with their own gov- 
 ernments, could not obtain passports from their own ministers. 
 Yesterday morning, however, it appeared that the affair at 
 Brussels was much more serious than Esterhazy had given 
 me to understand ; and, as far as can be judged from the 
 unofficial statements which we have, it appears likely that 
 Belgium will separate from Holland altogether, it being very 
 doubtful whether the Belgian troops will support the King's 
 government. 
 
 Madame de Falck is just come, but brings no news. Falck * 
 has heard nothing. He left Holland before the outbreak. 
 
 1 Prince Paul Esterhazy, Austrian Ambassador at the court of St James for many 
 
 years. . 
 
 * Baron Falck, Dutch Minister at the court of St. James.
 
 1830.] DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 179 
 
 In the event of such a revolution, it remains to be seen what 
 part Prussia will take, and, if she marches an army to reduce 
 Belgium to obedience, whether the Belgians will not make 
 overtures to France, and in that case whether King Louis 
 Philippe will be able to restrain the French from seizing such 
 a golden opportunity of regaining their former frontier ; and if 
 they accept the offer, whether a general war in Europe will 
 not ensue. 
 
 In these difficult circumstances, and in the midst of possi- 
 bilities so tremendous, it is awful to reflect upon the very 
 moderate portion of wisdom and sagacity which is allotted to 
 those by whom our affairs are managed. I am by no means 
 easy as to the Duke of Wellington's sufficiency to meet such 
 difficulties ; the habits of his mind are not those of patient 
 investigation, profound knowledge of human nature, and cool, 
 discriminating sagacity. He is exceedingly quick of appre- 
 hension, but deceived by his own quickness into thinking he 
 knows more than he does. He has amazing confidence in 
 himself, which is fostered by the deference of those around 
 him and the long experience of his military successes. He is 
 upon ordinary occasions right-headed and sensible, but he is 
 beset by weaknesses and passions which must, and continually 
 do, blind his judgment. Above all he wants that suavity of 
 manner, that watchfulness of observation, that power of taking 
 great and enlarged views of events and characters, and of 
 weighing opposite interests and probabilities, which are essen- 
 tially necessary in circumstances so delicate, and in which one 
 false step, any hasty, measure, or even incautious expression, 
 may be attended with consequences of immense importance. 
 I feel justified in this view of his political fitness by contem- 
 plating the whole course of his career, and the signal failure 
 which has marked all his foreign policy. If Canning was now 
 alive we might hope to steer through these difficulties, but if 
 he had lived we should probably never have -been in them. 
 He was the only statesman who had sagacity to enter into and 
 comprehend the spirit of the times, and to put himself at the 
 head of that movement which was no longer to be arrestedi
 
 l8o THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1830. 
 
 The march of Liberalism (as it is called) would not be stopped, 
 and this he knew, and he resolved to govern and lead instead 
 of opposing it. The idiots who so rejoiced at the removal of 
 this master mind (which alone could have saved them from the 
 effects of their own folly) thought to stem the torrent in its 
 course, and it has overwhelmed them. It is unquestionable 
 that the Duke has too much participated in their sentiments 
 and passions, and, though he never mixed himself with their 
 proceedings, regarded them with a favorable eye, nor does he 
 ever seem to have been aware of the immensity of the peril 
 which they were incurring. The urgency of the danger will 
 unquestionably increase the impatience of those who already 
 think the present government incapable of carrying on the 
 public business, and now that we are placed in a situation the 
 most intricate (since the French Revolution) it is by no means 
 agreeable to think that such enormous interests are at the 
 mercy of the Duke's awkward squad. 
 
 Sefton gave me an account of the dinner in St. George's 
 Hall on the King's birthday, which was magnificent excel- 
 lent and well served. Bridge 1 came down with the plate, and 
 was hid during the dinner behind the great wine-cooler, which 
 weighs 7,000 ounces, and he told Sefton afterwards that the 
 plate in the room was worth 2Oo,ooo/. There is another ser- 
 vice of gold plate, which was not used it all. The King has 
 made it all over to the crown. All this plate was ordered by 
 the late King, and never used ; his delight was ordering what 
 the public had to pay for. 
 
 September yth. The night before last I had a letter from 
 the Due de Dalberg with a very sensible view of the state of 
 France and of affairs generally in Europe, auguring well of 
 the stability of the present government, provided the other 
 powers of Europe do nothing to disturb the general tranquil- 
 lity. I never was so astonished as when I read in the news- 
 paper of the appointment of Talleyrand to be ambassador 
 here. He must be nearer eighty than seventy, and though 
 
 1 Of the house of Rundell and Bridge, the great silversmiths and jewelers 'J[ the 
 day.
 
 1830.] DUKE OF WELLINGTON. l8l 
 
 his faculties are said to be as bright as ever (which I doubt), 
 his infirmities are so great that it is inconceivable he should 
 think of leaving his own home, and above all for another 
 country, where public representation is unavoidable. Dalberg 
 told me that several of the ministers are going out Guizot, 
 Marshal GeVard, and Baron Louis, the two latter accabtes with 
 the travail, and the first unused to and unfit for official busi- 
 ness ; * Louis is seventy-three. 
 
 In the mean time the Duke does nothing here towards 
 strengthening his government, and he will probably meet Par- 
 liament as he is. There are some circumstances in his favor, 
 and I think it possible he may still extricate himself from his 
 difficulties. There is unquestionably a notion amongst many 
 persons (of the aristocracy) that he is the only man to rely 
 upon for governing this country in the midst of difficulties. It 
 is hard to say upon what this feeling (for it is more of a feel- 
 ing than an opinion) is founded ; not certainly upon any expe- 
 rience of his abilities for government, either as to principles 
 or the details of particular branches of business, or his pro- 
 found, dispassionate, and statesmanlike sagacity, but upon 
 certain vague predilections, and the confidence which he has 
 infused into others by his own firm, manly, and even dictato- 
 rial character, and the recollection of his military exploits and 
 splendid career, which have not yet lost their power over the 
 minds of men, and to this must be added his great influence 
 over the late and present sovereigns. 
 
 September i^th. Last Saturday to Panshanger ; returned 
 yesterday with Melbourne, George Lamb, and the Ashleys. 
 George said there would be a violent opposition in the ap- 
 proaching session. William 2 told me he thought Huskisson 
 was the greatest practical statesman he had known, the one 
 who united theory with practice the most, but owned he was 
 not popular and not thought honest ; that his remaining in 
 with the Duke when Goderich's ministry was dissolved was a 
 fatal error, which he could never repair. 
 
 1 A curious estimate, taken at the time, of the man who for the next eighteen years 
 had a larger share of official life and business than any other Frenchman. 
 * William Lamb, second Lord Melbourne, afterwards prime minister.
 
 1 82 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1830. 
 
 I found Sefton in town last night, and went to the play with 
 him. He has had a letter from Brougham, who told him he 
 should go to the Liverpool dinner and attack the Duke of 
 Wellington ; that it was the only opportunity he should ever 
 have in his life of meeting him face to face, and he then pro- 
 ceeded to relate all that he should say. Sefton wrote him 
 word that if he said half what he intended the chairman would 
 order him to be turned out of the room. He won't go, I am 
 persuaded. 
 
 Newark, September \$>th. Went back to Panshanger last 
 Tuesday ; found there Madame de Lieven, Melbourne, and 
 the Hollands and Allen. Lord Holland was very agreeable, 
 as he always is, and told many anecdotes of George Selwyn, 
 Lafayette, and others. I saw them arrive in a coach and four 
 and chaise and pair two footmen, a page, and two maids. 
 He said (what is true) that there is hardly such a thing in the 
 world as a good house or a good epitaph, and yet mankind 
 have been employed in building the former and writing the 
 latter since the beginning almost. Came to town on Thurs- 
 day, and in the afternoon heard the news of Huskisson's hor- 
 rible accident, and yesterday morning got a letter from Henry 
 with the details, which are pretty correctly given in the 
 " Times " newspaper. It is a very odd thing, but I had for 
 days before a strong presentiment that some terrible accident 
 would occur at this ceremony, and I told Lady Cowper so, and 
 several other people. Nothing could exceed the horror of the 
 few people in London at this event, or the despair of those 
 who looked up to him politically. It seems to have happened 
 in this way: While the Duke's car was stopping to take in 
 water, the people alighted and walked about the railroad ; 
 when suddenly another car, which was running on the adjoin- 
 ing level, came up. Everybody scrambled out of the way, 
 and those who could got again into the first car. This Hus- 
 kisson attempted to do, but he was slow and awkward ; as he 
 was getting in some part of the machinery of the other car 
 struck the door of his, by which he was knocked down. He 
 was taken up, and conveyed by Wilton 1 and Mrs. Huskisson 
 
 1 Thomas Grosvefior Egerton, second Earl of Wilton.
 
 1830.] DEATH OF HUSKISSON. 183 
 
 (who must have seen the accident happen) to the house of Mr. 
 Blackburne, eight miles from Heaton. Wilton saved his life 
 for a few hours by knowing how to tie up the artery ; amputa- 
 tion was not possible, and he expired at ten o'clock that night. 
 Wilton, Lord Granville, and Littleton were with him to the last. 
 Mrs. Huskisson behaved with great courage. The Duke of 
 Wellington was deeply affected, and it was with the greatest 
 difficulty he could be induced to proceed upon the progress to 
 Manchester, and at last he only yielded to the most pressing 
 solicitations of the directors, and others and to a strong re- 
 monstrance that the mob might be dangerous if he did not ap- 
 pear. It is impossible to figure to one's self any event which 
 could produce a greater sensation or be more striking to the 
 imagination than this, happening at such a time and under 
 such circumstances : the eminence of the man, the sudden 
 conversion of a scene of gayety and splendor into one of 
 horror and dismay ; the countless multitudes present, and the 
 effect upon them crushed to death in sight of his wife and 
 at the feet (as it was) of his great political rival all calcu- 
 lated to produce a deep and awful impression. The death of 
 Huskisson cannot fail to have an important effect upon politi- 
 cal events ; it puts an end to his party as a party, but it leaves 
 the survivors at liberty to join either the opposition or the 
 government, while during his life there were great difficulties 
 to their doing either, in consequence of the antipathy which 
 many of the Whigs had to him on one side and the Duke of 
 Wellington on the other. There is no use, however, in spec- 
 ulating on what will happen, which a very short time will 
 show. Agar Ellis told me yesterday morning that he had re- 
 ceived a letter from Brougham a day or two ago, in which he 
 said that he was going to Liverpool, and hoped there to sign a 
 t. -?aty with Huskisson, so that it is probable they would have 
 joined to oppose the government. As to the Duke of Wel- 
 lington, a fatality attends him, and it is perilous to cross his 
 path. There were perhaps 500,000 people present on this oc- 
 casion, and probably not a soul besides hurt. One man only 
 is killed, and that man is his most dangerous political oppo-
 
 1 84 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1830. 
 
 nent, the one from whom he had most to fear. It is the more 
 remarkable because these great people are generally taken 
 such care of, and put out of the chance of accidents. Canning 
 had scarcely reached the zenith of his power when he was 
 swept away, and the field was left open to the Duke, and no 
 sooner is he reduced to a state of danger and difficulty than 
 the ablest of his adversaries is removed by a chance beyond 
 all power of calculation. 
 
 Huskisson was about sixty years old, tall, slouching, and 
 ignoble looking. In society he was extremely agreeable, with- 
 out much animation, generally cheerful, with a great deal of 
 humor, information, and anecdote, gentlemanlike, unassuming, 
 slow in speech, and with a downcast look, as if he avoided 
 meeting anybody's gaze. I have said what Melbourne thought 
 of him, and that was the opinion of his party. It is probably 
 true that there is no man in Parliament, or perhaps out of it, 
 so well versed in finance, commerce, trade, and colonial mat- 
 ters, and that he is therefore a very great and irreparable loss. 
 It is nevertheless remarkable that it is only within the last five 
 or six years that he acquired the great reputation which he 
 latterly enjoyed. I do not think he was looked upon as more 
 than a second-rate man till his speeches on the silk trade and 
 the shipping interest : but when he became president of the 
 Board of Trade he devoted himself with indefatigable applica- 
 tion to the maturing and reducing to practice those commer- 
 cial improvements with which his name is associated, and to 
 which he owes all his glory and most of his unpopularity. It 
 is equally true that all the ablest men in the country coincide 
 with him, and that the mass of the community are persuaded 
 that his plans are mischievous to the last degree. The man 
 whom he consulted through the whole course of his labors 
 and inquiries was Hume, 1 who is now in the Board of Trade, 
 and whose vast experience and knowledge were of incalcula- 
 ble service to him. Great as his abilities unquestionably 
 were, it is impossible to admire his judgment, which seems 
 repeatedly to have failed him, particularly in his joining the 
 
 1 John Deacon Hume, the assistant joint secretary of the Board of Trade.
 
 1830.] DEATH OF HUSKISSON. 
 
 Duke's government on Goderich's resignation, which was a 
 capital error his speech afterwards at Liverpool and his 
 subsequent quarrel with the Duke. In all these cases he 
 acted with the greatest imprudence, and he certainly con- 
 trived, without exposing himself to any specific charge, to be 
 looked upon as a statesman of questionable honor and integ- 
 rity ; and of this his friends as well as his enemies were 
 aware. As a speaker in the House of Commons he was lu- 
 minous upon his own subject, but he had no pretensions to 
 eloquence ; his voice was feeble and his manner ungraceful ; 
 however, he was (unfortunately) one of the first men in the 
 House, and was listened to with attention upon any subject. 
 He left no children. Mrs. Huskisson has a pension of i,2oo/. 
 a year. 
 
 Chatsivorth, September 2jth. Yesterday Brougham came 
 with his brother, sister, and daughter-in-law, in the -highest 
 spirits and state of excitement, going about Yorkshire, dining 
 and speechifying ; he was at Doncaster, too. Lord Granville 
 was just returned from Huskisson's funeral at Liverpool. It 
 was attended by a great multitude, who showed every mark of 
 respect and feeling. He died the death of a great man, suffer- 
 ing torments, but always resigned, calm, and collected ; took 
 the Sacrament and made a codicil to his will ; said the country 
 had had the best of him, and that he could not have been 
 useful for many more years ; hoped he had never committed 
 any political sins that might not be easily forgiven, and de- 
 clared that he died without a feeling of ill-will an.d in charity 
 with all men. As he lay there he heard the guns announcing 
 the Duke of Wellington's arrival at Manchester, and he said, 
 " I hope to God the Duke may get safe through the day." 
 When he had done and said all he desired, he begged they 
 would open a vein and release him from his pain. From the 
 beginning he only wished to die quickly. Mrs. Huskisson 
 was violently opposed to his being buried at Liverpool, and it 
 was with great difficulty she was persuaded to consent tc 
 the repeated applications that were made to her for that pur- 
 pose.
 
 1 86 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1830. 
 
 London, November %th. Went from Buckingham to Eus- 
 ton, and then back to Newmarket, where I never have time 
 or inclination to write or read. Parliament met, and a great 
 clamor was raised against the King's speech, without much 
 reason ; but it was immediately evident that the government 
 was in a very tottering condition, and the first night of this 
 session the Duke of Wellington made a violent and uncalled 
 for declaration against reform, which has .without doubt 
 sealed his fate. Never was there an act of more egregious 
 folly, or one so universally condemned by friends and foes. 
 The Chancellor said to Lady Lyndhurst after the first night's 
 debate in the House of Lords, " You have often asked me 
 why the Duke did not take in Lord Grey ; read these two 
 speeches (Lord Grey's and the Duke's), and then you will see 
 why. Do you think he would like to have a colleague under 
 him, who should get up and make such a speech after such 
 another as his ? " 
 
 The effect produced by this declaration exceeds anything 
 I ever saw, and it has at once destroyed what little popularity 
 the Duke had left, and lowered him in public estimation so 
 much that when he does go out of office, as most assuredly 
 he must, he will leave it without any of the dignity and credit 
 which might have accompanied his retirement. The sensa- 
 tion produced in the country has not yet been ascertained, 
 but it is sure to be immense. I came to town last night, and 
 found the town ringing with his imprudence and everybody 
 expecting that a few days would produce his resignation. 
 
 The King's visit to the city was regarded with great appre- 
 hension, as it was suspected that attempts would be made to 
 produce riot and confusion at night, and consequently all the 
 troops that could be mustered were prepared, together with 
 thousands of special constables, new police, volunteers, sail- 
 ors, and marines ; but last night a Cabinet council was held, 
 when it was definitely arranged to put it off altogether, and 
 this morning the announcement has appeared in the news- 
 papers. Every sort of ridicule and abuse was heaped upon 
 the government, the Lord Mayor, and all who had any share
 
 1830.] RIOTS THREATENED. l8/ 
 
 in putting off the King's visit to the city ; very droll cari- 
 catures were circulated. 
 
 November loth. It was expected last night that there 
 would be a great riot, and preparations were made to meet it. 
 Troops were called up to London, and a large body of civil 
 power put in motion. People had come in from the country 
 in the morning, and everything indicated a disturbance. After 
 dinner I walked out to see how things were going on. There 
 was little mob in the west end of the town, and in New 
 Street, Spring Gardens, a large body of the new police was 
 drawn up in three divisions, ready to be employed if wanted. 
 The Duke of Wellington expected Apsley House to be at- 
 tacked, and made preparations accordingly. He desired my 
 brother to go and dine there, to assist in making any arrange- 
 ments that might be necessary. In Pall Mall I met Mr. Glyn, 
 the banker, who had been up to Lombard Street to see how 
 matters looked about his house, and he told us (Sir T. Far- 
 quhar and me) that everything was quiet in the city. One of 
 the policemen said that there had been a smart brush near 
 Temple Bar, where a body of weavers with iron crows and a 
 banner had been dispersed by the police, and the banner 
 taken. The police, who are a magnificent set of fellows, be- 
 have very well, and it seems pretty evident that these troubles 
 are not very serious, and will soon be put an end to. The 
 attack in Downing Street the night before last, of which they 
 made a great affair, turned out to be nothing at all. The 
 mob came there from Carlile's lecture, but the sentry stopped 
 them near the Foreign Office ; the police took them in flank, 
 and they all ran away. 
 
 I went to Brookes 's, but there was hardly anybody there, 
 and nothing occurred in the House of Commons but some 
 interchange of billingsgate between O'Connell and George 
 Dawson. The Duke talks with confidence, and has no idea of 
 resigning, but he does not inspire his friends with the confi- 
 dence he feels or affects himself, though they talk of his res- 
 ignation as an event which is to plunge all Europe into war, 
 and of the impossibility of forming another administration,
 
 1 88 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1830. 
 
 all which is mere balderdash, for he proved with many others 
 how easy it is to form a government that can go on ; and as 
 to our Continental relations being altered, I don't believe a 
 word of it. He may have influence abroad, but he owes it 
 not to his own individual character, but to his possession of 
 power in England. If the ministry who succeed him are 
 firm and moderate, this country will lose nothing of its influ- 
 ence abroad. I have heard these sort of things said fifty 
 times of ministers and kings. The death of the late King 
 was to be the greatest of calamities, and the breath was 
 hardly out of his body before everybody discovered that it 
 was the greatest of blessings, and, instead of its being im- 
 possible to go on without him, that there would have been no 
 going on with him. 
 
 The King gave a dinner to the Prince of Orange the other 
 day, and invited all his old military friends to meet him. His 
 Majesty was beyond everything civil to the Duke of Wel- 
 lington, and the Queen likewise. Lord Wellesley, speaking 
 of the letter to the Lord Mayor, and putting off the dinner 
 in the city, said " it was the boldest act of cowardice he had 
 ever heard of." 
 
 After some difficulty they have agreed to give Madame de 
 Dino 1 the honors of ambassadress here, the Duke having told 
 the King that at Vienna she did the honors of Talleyrand's 
 house, and was received on that footing by the Emperor and 
 Empress, so he said, " Oh, very well ; I will tell the Queen, 
 and you had better tell her too." 
 
 They say the King is exceedingly bullied by the bdtards, 
 though Errol told me they were all afraid of him. Dolly 
 Fitzclarence lost ioo/., betting 100 to 10 that he would go to 
 Guildhall, and he told the King he had lost him loo/., so the 
 King gave him the money. 
 
 Aovember \$th. Yesterday morning I breakfasted with 
 
 1 The Duchesse de Dino was the niece of Prince Talleyrand, then French Am- 
 bassador at the court of St. James. The precedent is a curious one, for it is certainly 
 not customary lor the daughter or niece of an unmarried ambassador to enjoy the 
 rank and honors of an ambassadress.
 
 iSjo.J TAYLOR AND SOL/THEY. 189 
 
 Taylor 1 to meet Southey : the party was Southey; Strutt, 
 member for Derby, a radical ; young Mill, a political econo- 
 mist ; Charles Villiers, young Elliot, and myself. Southey is 
 remarkably pleasing in his manner and appearance, unaffected, 
 unassuming, and agreeable ; at least such was my impression 
 for the hour or two I saw him. Young Mill is the son of Mill 
 who wrote the " History of British India," and s'aid to be 
 cleverer than his father. He has written many excellect ar- 
 ticles in reviews, pamphlets, etc., but though powerful with a 
 pen in his hand, in conversation he has not the art of manag- 
 ing his ideas, and is consequently hesitating and slow, and has 
 the appearance of being always working in his mind proposi- 
 tions or a syllogism. 
 
 Southey told an anecdote of Sir Massey Lopes, which is 
 a good story of a miser. A man came to him and told him he 
 was in great distress, and 2oo/. would save him. He gave h.tn 
 a draft for the money. " Now," says he " what will you do 
 with this ? " " Go to the banker's and get it cashed." " Stop," 
 said he ; "I will cash it." So he gave him the money, but 
 first calculated and deducted the discount, thus at once exer- 
 cising his benevolence and his avarice. 
 
 Another story Taylor told (we were talking of the negroes 
 and savages) of a girl (in North America) who had been 
 brought up for the purpose of being eaten on the day her 
 master's son was married or attained a certain age. She was 
 proud of being the plat for the occasion, for when she was ac- 
 costed by a missionary, who wanted to convert her to Chris- 
 tianity and withdraw her from her fate, she said she had no 
 objection to be a Christian, but she must stay to be eaten ; 
 that she had been fattened for the purpose and must fulfill her 
 destiny. 
 
 In the evening I dined with Lord Sefton to meet Talley- 
 rand and Madame de Dino. There were Brougham and 
 
 1 Henry Taylor, the author of Philip van A rteveldc. Edward Strutt was after- 
 wards created Lord Helper. " Young Mill " was the eminent economist and philos- 
 opher John Stuart Mill. " Young El!iot, v Sir Thomas Frederick Elliot, K. S. M. G., 
 long one of the ablest members of the Colonial Department, to which Henry Taylor, 
 the poet, himself belonged.
 
 190 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1830. 
 
 Denman, the latter brought by the former to show Talley- 
 rand to him. After dinner Talleyrand held a circle and dis- 
 coursed, but I did not come in for his talk. They were all 
 delighted, but long experience has proved to me that people 
 are easily delighted with whatever is in vogue. Brougham 
 is very proud of his French, which is execrable, and took the 
 opportunity of holding forth in a most barbarous jargon, which 
 he fancied was the real accent and phraseology. 
 
 November 17 'th. Went to Downing Street yesterday morn- 
 ing between twelve and one, and found that the Duke and ill 
 the ministers were just gone to the King. He received them 
 with the greatest kindness, shed tears, but accepted their res- 
 ignation without remonstrance. He told Lord Bathurst he 
 would do anything he could, and asked him if there was 
 nothing he could sign which would secure his son's appoint- 
 ment. Lord Bathurst thanked him, but told him he could do 
 nothing. 
 
 I met the Duke coming out of his room, but did not like to 
 speak to him ; he got into his cabriolet, and nodded as he 
 passed, but he looked very grave. The King seems to have 
 behaved perfectly throughout the whole business, no intrigu- 
 ing or underhand communication with anybody, with great 
 kindness to his ministers, anxious to support them while it 
 was possible, and submitting at once to the necessity of part- 
 ing with them. The fact is he turns out an incomparable 
 King, and deserves all the encomiums that are lavished on him. 
 All the mountebankery which signalized his conduct when he 
 came to the throne has passed away with the excitement which 
 caused it, and he is as dignified as the homeliness and sim- 
 plicity of his character will allow him to be. 
 
 November \^th. The day before yesterday Lord Grey 
 went to the King, who received him with every possible kind- 
 ness, and gave him carte blanche to form a new administra- 
 tion, placing even the household at his disposal much to 
 the disgust of the members of it Ever since the town has 
 been as usual teeming with reports, but with fewer lies than 
 usual. The fact is Lord Grey has had no difficulties, and, has
 
 1830.] BROUGHAM DISPLEASED. 191 
 
 formed a government at once ; only Brougham put them all 
 in a dreadful fright. He all but declared a hostile intention 
 to the future administration ; he boasted that he would take 
 nothing, refuse even the great seal, and flourished his reform 
 in terrorem over their heads ; he was affronted and furious 
 because he fancied they neglected him, but it all arose, as I 
 am told, from Lord Grey's letter to him not reaching him di- 
 rectly by some mistake, for that he was the first person he 
 wrote to. Still it is pretty clear that this eccentric luminary 
 will play the devil with their system. 
 
 [The letter could not be the cause. The history of the 
 transaction is this : When Lord Grey undertook to form 
 a government he sent for Lord Lansdowne and Lord Hol- 
 land, and these three began to work, without consulting with 
 Brougham or any member of the House of Commons. 
 Brougham was displeased at not being consulted at first, 
 but was indignant when Lord Grey proposed to him to be 
 Attorney-general. Then he showed his teeth, and they grew 
 frightened, and soon after they sent Sefton to him, who got 
 him into good humor, and it was made up by the offer of the 
 great seal. November 23^.] 
 
 November loth. Here I was interrupted, and broke off 
 yesterday morning. At twelve o'clock yesterday everything 
 was settled but the great seal, and in the afternoon the great 
 news transpired that Brougham had accepted it. Great was 
 the surprise, greater still the joy at a charm having been 
 found potent enough to lay the unquiet spirit, a bait rich 
 enough to tempt his restless ambition. I confess I had no 
 idea he would have accepted the chancellorship after his 
 declarations in the House of Commons and the whole tenor of 
 his conduct. I was persuaded that he had made to himself a 
 political existence the like of which no man had ever before 
 possessed, and that to have refused the great seal would 
 have appeared more glorious than to take it ; intoxicated with 
 his Yorkshire honors, swollen with his own importance, and 
 holding in his hands questions which he could employ to 
 thwart, embarrass, and ruin any ministry, I thought that he
 
 1 92 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1830. 
 
 meant to domineer in the House of Commons and to gather 
 popularity throughout the country by enforcing popular meas- 
 ures of which he would have all the credit, and thus establish 
 a sort of individual power and authority, which would insure 
 his being dreaded, courted and consulted by all parties. He 
 could then have gratified his vanity, ambition and turbulence ; 
 the bar would have supplied fortune, and events would have 
 supplied enjoyments suited to his temperament ; it would have 
 been a sort of madness, mischievous but splendid. As it is 
 the joy is great and universal ; all men feel that he is emascu- 
 lated and drops on the woolsack as on his political death- 
 bed ; once in the House of Lords, there is an end of him, 
 and he may rant, storm, and thunder without hurting any- 
 body. 
 
 November 7.7d. pined yesterday at Sefton's ; nobody 
 there but Lord Grey and his family, Brougham and Montrond, 
 the latter just come from Paris. It was excessively agreeable. 
 Lord Grey in excellent spirits, and Brougham, whom Sefton 
 bantered from the beginning to the end of dinner. 1 Be 
 Brougham's political errors what they may, his gayety, temper, 
 and admirable social qualities make him delightful, to say 
 nothing of his more solid merits, of liberality, generosity, and 
 charity ; for charity it is to have taken the whole family of 
 one of his brothers who is dead nine children and main- 
 tained and educated them. From this digression to return to 
 our dinner ; it was uncommonly gay. Lord Grey said he had 
 taken a task on himself which he was not equal to ; prided 
 himself on having made his arrangements so rapidly, and on 
 having named no person to any office who was not efficient ; 
 he praised Lyndhurst highly, said he liked him, that his last 
 speech was luminous, and that he should like very much to do 
 anything he could for him, but that it was such an object to 
 have Brougham on the woolsack. So I suppose he would 
 not dislike to take in Lyndhurst by and by. He would not 
 
 1 Lord Brougham had taken his seat on the woolsack as lord high chancellor 
 on the afternoon of this day, the 22d of November. The patent of his peerage 
 bore the same date.
 
 1830.] THE LORD CHANCELLOR. 193 
 
 tell us whom he has got for the ordnance. John Russell was 
 to have had the War Office, but Tavistock a entreated that the 
 appointment might be changed, as his brother's health was 
 unequal to it ; so he was made paymaster. Lord Grey said 
 he had more trouble with those offices than with the Cabinet 
 ones. Sefton did nothing but quiz Brougham " My lord " 
 every minute, and "What does his lordship say?" "I'm 
 sure it is very condescending of his lordship to speak to such 
 canaille as all of you," and a thousand jokes. After dinner he 
 walked out before him with the fire shovel for the mace, and 
 left him no repose all the evening. I wish Leach could have 
 heard Brougham. He threatened to sit often at the cockpit, 
 in order to check Leach, 2 who, though a good judge in his own 
 court, was good for nothing in a court of appeal ; he said 
 that Leach's being chancellor was impossible, as there were 
 forty-two appeals from him to the Chancellor, which he would 
 have had to decide himself ; and that he (Brougham) had 
 wanted the seal to be put in commission with three judges, 
 which would have been the best reform of the court, expedited 
 business, and satisfied suitors ; but that Lord Grey would not 
 hear of it, and had forced him to take it, which he was averse 
 to do, being reluctant to leave the House of Commons. 
 
 He said the Duke of Richmond had done admirably in 
 capturing the incendiary who has been taken, and who they 
 think will afford a clew whereby they will discover the secret 
 of all the burnings. This man called himself Evans. They 
 had information of his exciting the peasantry, and sent a Bow 
 Street officer after him. He found out where he lived and 
 captured him (having been informed that he was not there by 
 the inmates of the house), and took him to the Duke, who 
 
 1 The Marquis of Tavistock, Lord John Russell's eldest brother, afterwards Duke 
 of Bedford. Lord John has si-.jce held almost every cabinet office : his brother's 
 notion that his health was unequal to the War Office in 1830 is amusing. 
 
 1 The Master of the Rolls was at that time presiding judge of appeal at the Privy 
 Council, which was commonly spoken of as " the cockpit," because it sat on the 
 site of the old cockpit at Whitehall ; but the business was very ill done, which led 
 Lord Brougham to bring in and carry his act for the creation of the Judicial Com- 
 mittee in 1832 one of his best and most successful measures.
 
 194 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. 11830. 
 
 had him searched. On his person were found stotk receipts 
 for 8oo/., of which 5O/. was left ; and a chemical receipt in a 
 secret pocket for combustibles. He was taken to prison, and 
 will be brought up to town. Montrond was very amusing 
 " You, Lord Brougham, when you mount your bag of wool ? " 
 
 November 7.^th. The accounts from the country on the 
 23d were so bad that a Cabinet sat all the morning, and con- 
 certed a proclamation offering large rewards for the discovery 
 of offenders, rioters, or burners. Half the Cabinet walked to 
 St. James's, where I went with the draft proclamation in my 
 pocket, and we held a council in the King's room to approve 
 it. I remember the last council of this sort we held was on 
 Queen Caroline's business. She had demanded to be heard 
 by counsel in support of her asserted right to be crowned, 
 and the King ordered in council that she should be heard. 
 We held the council in his dressing-room at Carlton House ; 
 he was in his bed-gown, and we in our boots. This procla- 
 mation did not receive the sign manual or the great seal and 
 was not engrossed till the next day, but was nevertheless pub- 
 lished in the " Gazette." 
 
 December \st. The last two or three days have produced 
 no remarkable outrages, and though the state of the country 
 is still dreadful, it is rather better on the whole than it was ; 
 but London is like the capital of a country desolated by cruel 
 war or foreign invasion, and we are always looking for re- 
 ports of battles, burnings, and other disorders. Wherever 
 there has been anything like fighting, the mob has always been 
 beaten, and has shown the greatest cowardice. They do not, 
 however, seem to have been actuated by a very ferocious 
 spirit ; and, considering the disorders of the times, it is re- 
 markable that they have not been more violent and rapacious. 
 Lord Craven, who is just of age, with three or four more 
 young lords, his friends, defeated and dispersed them in 
 Hampshire. They broke into the Duke of Beaufort's house 
 at Heythrop, but he and his sons got them out without mis- 
 chief, and afterwards took some of them. On Monday as 
 the field which had been out with the King's hounds were re-
 
 1830.1 THE COUNTRY RIOTOUS. 195 
 
 turning to town, they were summoned to assist in quelling a 
 riot at Woburn, which they did ; the gentlemen charged and 
 broke the people, and took some of them, and fortunately 
 some troops came up to secure the prisoners. The alarm, 
 however, still continues, and a feverish anxiety about the fut- 
 ure universally prevails, for no man can foresee what course 
 events will take, nor how his own individual circumstances 
 may be affected by them. 
 
 December \ztk. For the last few days the accounts from 
 the country have been better ; there are disturbances in dif- 
 ferent parts, and alarms given, but the mischief seems to be 
 subsiding. The burnings go on, and though they say that 
 one or two incendiaries have been taken up, nothing has yet 
 been discovered likely to lead to a detection of the system. 
 I was at court on Wednesday, when Kemp and Foley were 
 sworn in, the first for the ordnance, the other gold stick (the 
 pensioners). He refused it for a long time, but at last sub- 
 mitted to what he thought infra dig., because it was to be 
 sugared with the lieutenancy of Worcestershire^ There was 
 an admiralty report, 1 at which the Chief Justice was not 
 present. The Chancellor and the Judge (Sir C. Robinson) 
 were there for the first time, and not a soul knew what was 
 the form or what ought to be done ; they did, however, just as 
 in the Recorder's reports. Brougham leans to mercy, I see. 
 But what a curious sort of supplementary trial this is ; how 
 many accidents may determine the life or death of the culprit. 
 In one case in this report which they were discussing (before 
 the council) Brougham had forgotten that the man was recom- 
 mended to mercy, but he told me that at the last Recorder's 
 report there was a great difference of opinion on one (a for- 
 gery case), when Tenterden was for hanging the man and he 
 for saving him ; that he had it put to the vote, and the man 
 was saved. Little did the criminal know when there was a 
 change of ministry that he owed his life to it ; for if Lynd- 
 hurst had been chancellor he would most assuredly have 
 
 1 The High Court of Admiralty had still a criminal jurisdiction, and the capital 
 cases were submitted to the King in council for approval.
 
 196 THE GKEVILLE MEMOIRS. [1830. 
 
 been hanged ; not that Lyndhurst was particularly severe or 
 cruel, but he would have concurred with the Chief Justice 
 and have regarded the case solely in a judicial point of view ; 
 whereas the mind of the other was probably biassed by some 
 theory about the crime of forgery or by some fancy of his 
 strange brain. 
 
 This was a curious case, as I have since heard. The man 
 owes his life to the curiosity of a woman of fashion, and then 
 to another feeling. Lady Burghersh and Lady Glengall 
 wanted to hear St. John Long's trial (the quack who had man- 
 slaughtered Miss Cashir), and they went to the Old Bailey 
 for that purpose. Castlereagh and somebody else, who of 
 course were not up in time, were to have attended them. 
 They wanted an escort, and the only man in London sure tc 
 be out of bed so early was the Master of the Rolls, so they 
 went and carried him off. When they got to the court there 
 was no St. John Long, but they thought they might as well 
 stay and hear whatever was going on. It chanced that a man 
 was tried for an atrocious case of forgery and breach of trust. 
 He was found guilty and sentence passed ; but he was 
 twenty-three and good-looking. Lady Burghersh could not 
 bear he should be hanged, and she went to all the late minis- 
 ters and the judges to beg him off. Leach told her it was no 
 use, that nothing could save that man ; and accordingly the 
 old government were obdurate, when out they went. Off she 
 went again and attacked all the new ones, who in better 
 humor, or of softer natures, suffered themselves to be per- 
 suaded, and the wretch was saved. She went herself to 
 Newgate to see him, but I never heard if she had a private 
 interview, and if he was afforded an opportunity of expressing 
 his gratitude with all the fervor that the service she had 
 done him demanded. 
 
 December i^th. Dined yesterday at Agar Ellis's with 
 eighteen people. Brougham in great force and very agreea- 
 ble, and told some stories of Judge Allan Park, who is a most 
 ridiculous man, and yet a good lawyer, a good judge, and was 
 a most eminent counsel.
 
 1830.] GEORGE FITZCLAKENCE. 197 
 
 Park is extraordinarily ridiculous. He is a physiognomist, 
 and is captivated by pleasant looks. In a certain cause, in 
 which a boy brought an action for defamation against his 
 school-master, Campbell, his counsel, asked the solicitor if the 
 boy was good-looking. "Very." -"Oh, then, have him in 
 court ; we shall get a verdict." And so he did. His eyes are 
 always wandering about, watching and noticing everything 
 and everybody. One day there was a dog in court making a 
 disturbance, on which he said, " Take away that dog." The 
 officers went to remove another dog, when he interposed. 
 " No, not that dog. I have had my eye on that dog the whole 
 day, and I will say that a better behaved little dog I never saw 
 in a court of justice." 
 
 December i6th. There has been a desperate quarrel 
 between the King and his sons. George Fitzclarence wanted 
 to be made a peer and have a pension ; the King said he 
 could not do it, so they struck work in a body, and George 
 resigned his office of deputy adjutant-general and wrote the 
 King a furious letter. The King sent for Lord Hill, and told 
 him to try and bring him to his senses ; but Lord Hill could 
 do nothing, and then he sent for Brougham to talk to him 
 about it. It is not yet made up, but one of them (Frederick, I 
 believe) dined at the dinner the King gave the day before 
 yesterday. They want to renew the days of Charles II.. 
 instead of waiting patiently and letting the King do what he 
 can for them, and as he can. 
 
 Roehampton, December -2.6th . At Lord Clif den's ; Lut- 
 trell, Byng, and Dudley ; the latter very mad ; did nothing but 
 soliloquize, walk about, munch, and rail at reform of every 
 kind. Lord Anglesey has entered Dublin amidst silence and 
 indifference, all produced by O'Connell's orders, whose entry 
 was greeted by the acclamations of thousands, and his 
 speeches then and since have been more violent than ever. 
 His authority and popularity are unabated, and he is employ- 
 ing them to do all the mischief he can, his first object being 
 to make friends of the Orangemen, to whom he affects to 
 humble himself, and he has on all public occasions caused 
 the orange ribbon to be joined with the gretfn.
 
 198 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS 11830. 
 
 December ^oth. Lord Anglesey's entry into Dublin turned 
 out not to have been so mortifying to him as was at first re- 
 ported. He was attended by a great number of people, and 
 by all the most eminent and respectable in Dublin, so much 
 so that he was very well pleased, and found it better than he 
 expected. War broke out between him and O'Connell with- 
 out loss of time. O'Connell had intended to have a proces- 
 sion of the trades, and a notice from him was to have been 
 published and stuck over the door of every chapel and public 
 place in Dublin. Anglesey issued his proclamation, and half 
 an hour before the time when O'Connell's notice was to ap- 
 pear had it pasted up, and one copy laid on O'Connell's 
 breakfast table, at which anticipation he chuckled mightily. 
 O'Connell instantly issued a handbill desiring the people to 
 obey, as if the order of the Lord-lieutenant was to derive 
 its authority from his permission and he afterwards made an 
 able speech. Since the beginning of the world there never 
 was so extraordinary and so eccentric a position as his. It 
 is a moral power and influence as great in its way, and as 
 strangely acquired, as Bonaparte's political power was. Ut- 
 terly lost to all sense of shame and decency, trampling truth 
 and honor under his feet, cast off by all respectable men, he 
 makes his faults and his vices subservient to the extension of 
 his influence, for he says and does whatever suits his purpose 
 for the moment, secure that no detection or subsequent expos- 
 ure will have the slightest effect with those over whose minds 
 and passions he rules with such despotic sway. He cares not 
 whom he insults, because, having covered his cowardice with 
 the cloak of religious scruples, he is invulnerable, and will 
 resent no retaliation that can be offered him. He has chalked 
 out to himself a course of ambition which, though not of the 
 highest kind if the consentiens laus bonorum is indispensa- 
 ble to the aspirations of noble minds has everything in it 
 that can charm a somewhat vulgar but highly active, restless, 
 and imaginative being ; and nobody can deny to him the 
 praise of inimitable dexterity, versatility, and even prudence 
 in the employment of the means which he makes conducive
 
 1831.1 DANIEL VCONNELL. 199 
 
 to his ends. He is thoroughly acquainted with the audiences 
 which he addresses and the people upon whom he practices, 
 and he operates upon their passions with the precision of a 
 dexterous anatomist who knows the direction of every muscle 
 and fibre of the human frame. After having been throughout 
 the Catholic question the furious enemy of the Orangemen, 
 upon whom he lavished incessant and unmeasured abuse, he 
 has suddenly turned round, and inviting them to join him on 
 the repeal question, has not only offered them a fraternal em- 
 brace and has humbled himself to the dust in apologies and 
 demands for pardon, but he has entirely and at once suc- 
 ceeded, and he is now as popular or more so with the Prot- 
 estants (or rather Orangemen) as he was before with the 
 Catholics, and Crampton writes word that the lower order of 
 Protestants are with him to a man. 
 
 1831. 
 
 January ~2.d. Came up to town yesterday to dine with 
 the Villiers at a dinner of clever men, got up at the Athe- 
 naeum, and was extremely bored. The original party was 
 broken up by various excuses, and the vacancies supplied by 
 men none of whom I knew. There were Poulett, Thomson, 
 three Villiers, Taylor, Young, whom I knew ; the rest I never 
 saw before Buller, Romilly, Senior, Maule, 1 a man whose 
 name I forget, and Walker, a police magistrate, all men of 
 more or less talent and information, and altogether producing 
 anything but an agreeable party. Maule was senior wrangler 
 and senior medallist at Cambridge, and is a lawyer.- He was 
 nephew to the man with whom I was at school thirty years 
 ago, and I had never seen him since ; he was then a very 
 clever boy, and assisted to teach the boys, being admirably 
 well taught himself by his uncle, who was an excellent 
 scholar and a great brute. I have young Maule now in my 
 mind's eye suspended by the hair of his head while being 
 well caned, and recollect as if it was yesterday his doggedly 
 drumming a lesson of Terence into my dull and reluctant 
 
 ' Afterwards Mr. Justice Maule.
 
 200 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1831. 
 
 brain as we walked up and down the garden walk before the 
 house. When I was introduced to him I had no recollection 
 of him, but when I found out who he was I went up to him 
 with the blandest manner as he sat reading a newspaper, and 
 said that " I believed we had once been well acquainted, 
 though we had not met for twenty-seven years." He looked 
 up and said, " Oh, it is too long ago to talk about," and then 
 turned back to his paper. So I set him down fora brute like 
 his uncle and troubled him no further. I am very sure that 
 dinners of all fools have as good a chance of being agreeable 
 as dinners of all clever people ; at least the former are often 
 gay, and the latter are frequently heavy. Nonsense and folly 
 gilded over with good breeding and les usages du motide pro- 
 duce often more agreeable results than a collection of rude, 
 awkward intellectual powers. 
 
 January \tyh. Ellis told me (a curious thing enough) that 
 Croker (for his " Boswell's Life of Johnson ") had collected 
 various anecdotes from other books, but that the only new 
 and original ones were those he had got from Lord Stowell, 
 who was a friend of Johnson, and that he had written them 
 under StowelPs dictation. Sir Walter Scott wanted to see 
 them, and Croker sent them to him in Scotland by the post. 
 The bag was lost ; no tidings could be heard of it, Croker had 
 no copy, and Stowell is in his dotage and can't be got to dic- 
 tate again. So much for the anecdote ; then comes the story. 
 I said how surprising this was, for nothing was so rare as a 
 miscarriage by the post. He said, " Not at all, for I myself 
 lost two reviews in the same way. I sent them both to 
 Brougham to forward to Jeffrey (for the " Edinburgh "), and 
 they were both lost in the same way ! " That villain 
 Brougham ! 
 
 G. Lamb said that the King is supposed to be in a bad 
 state of health, and this was confirmed to me by Keate the 
 surgeon, who gave me to understand that he was going the 
 way of both his brothers. He will be a great loss in these 
 times ; he knows his business, lets his ministers do as they 
 please, but expects to be informed of everything. He lives a
 
 1831.] ROBERT SOU THEY. 2OI 
 
 strange life at Brighton, with tagrag and bobtail about him, 
 and always open house. The Queen is a prude, and will not 
 let the ladies come decollete'es to her parties. George IV., 
 who liked ample expanses of that sort, would not let them be 
 covered. 
 
 January 23^. No news ; Master of the Rolls, George 
 Ponsonby, and George Villiers here. The latter told a story 
 of Plunket, of his wit. Lord Wellesley's aide-de-camp Kep- 
 pel wrote a book of his travels, and called it his personal nar- 
 rative. Lord Wellesley was quizzi'ng it, and said, " Personal 
 narrative ? what is a personal narrative ? Lord Plunket, what 
 should you say a personal narrative meant ? " Plunket an- 
 swered, " My lord, you know we lawyers always understand 
 Personal as contradistinguished from real}' 1 And one or two 
 others of Parsons, the Irish barrister. Lord Norbury on 
 some circuit was on the bench speaking, and an ass outside 
 brayed so loud that nobody could hear. He exclaimed, " Do 
 stop that noise ! " Parsons said, " My lord, there is a great 
 echo here." Somebody said to him one day, " Mr. Parsons, 
 have you heard of my son's robbery ?" " No ; whom has he 
 robbed ? " 
 
 February \"2.th. I saw the day before yesterday a curious 
 letter from Southey to Brougham, which some day or other 
 will probably appear. Taylor showed it me. Brougham had 
 written to him to ask him what his opinion was as to the en- 
 couragement that could be given to literature, by rewarding or 
 honoring literary men, and suggested (I did not see his letter) 
 that the Guelphic Order should be bestowed upon them. 
 Southey's reply was very courteous, but in a style of sup- 
 pressed irony and forced politeness, and exhibited the marks 
 of a chafed spirit, which was kept down by an effort. " You, 
 my lord, are now on the conservative side," was one of his 
 phrases, which implied that the Chancellor had not always 
 been on that side. He suggested that it might be useful to 
 establish a sort of lay fellowships ; io,ooo/. would give 10 of 
 5oo/. and 25 of 2oo/. ; but he proposed them not to reward 
 the meritorious, but as a means of silencing or hiring the mis-
 
 202 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1831. 
 
 chievous. It was evident, however, that he laid no stress on 
 this plan, or considered it practicable, and only proposed it 
 because he thought he must suggest something. He said 
 that honors might be desirable to scientific men, as they were 
 so considered on the Continent, and Newton and Davy had 
 been titled, but for himself, if a Guelphic distinction was 
 adopted, "he should be a Ghibelline." He ended by saying 
 that all he asked for was a repeal of the copyright act, which 
 took from the families of literary men the only property they 
 had to give them, and this " I ask for with the earnestness of 
 one who is conscious that he has labored for posterity." It is 
 a remarkable letter. 
 
 February \"jth. Went to Lady Dudley Stewart's last night ; 
 a party ; saw a vulgar looking, fat man with spectacles, and a 
 mincing, rather pretty pink and white woman, his wife. The 
 man was Napoleon's nephew, the woman Washington's grand- 
 daughter. What a host of associations, all confused and de- 
 graded. He is a son of Murat, the King of Naples, who was 
 said to be " le (lieu Mars jusqu'd six heures du soir." He was 
 heir to a throne, and is now a lawyer in the United States, and 
 his wife, whose name I know not, Sandon told me, was Wash- 
 ington's granddaughter. (This must be a mistake, for I think 
 Washington never had any children.) * 
 
 February 2.\th. The King went to the play the night before 
 last ; was well received in the house, but hooted and pelted 
 coming home, and a stone shivered a window of his coach and 
 fell into Prince George of Cumberland's lap. The King was 
 excessively annoyed, and sent for Baring, who was the officer 
 riding by his coach, and asked him if he knew who had 
 thrown the stone ; he said that it terrified the Queen, and 
 " was very disagreeable, as he should always be going some- 
 where." 
 
 February -z^th. A drawing-room yesterday, at which the 
 Princess Victoria made her first appearance. I was not there. 
 
 1 Achilla Murat and his wife were living at this time in the Alpha Road, Regent's 
 Park. It was said she was Washington's grand-niece, but I am rot sure what the re- 
 lationship was, if any. She was ceitaiuly not hi.s granddaughter.
 
 1831.) LADY JERSEY. 203 
 
 Lady Jersey made a scene with Lord Durham. She got up and 
 crossed the room to him and said, " Lord Durham, I hear that 
 you have said things about me which are not true, and I desire 
 that you will call upon me to-morrow with a witness to hear 
 my positive denial, and I beg that you will not repeat any 
 such things about me," or, as the Irishman said, " words to 
 that effect." She was in a fury, and he, I suppose, in a still 
 greater. He muttered that he should never set foot in her 
 house again, which she did not hear, as after delivering her- 
 self of her speech she flounced back again to her seat, mighty 
 proud of the exploit. It arose out of his saying that he 
 should make Lady Durham demand an audience of the Queen 
 to contradict the things Lady Jersey had said of her and the 
 other Whig ladies. 
 
 I saw Lady Jersey last night and had a long conversation 
 with her about her squabbles. She declares solemnly (and I 
 believe it) that she never said a syllable to the Queen against 
 her quondam friends, owns she abused Sefton to other people, 
 cried, and talked, and the end was that I am to try to put an 
 end to these tracasseries. She was mighty glorious about her 
 sortie upon Lambton, whom she dislikes, but she is vexed at 
 the hornets' nest she has brought round her head. All this 
 comes of talking. The wisest man mentioned in history was 
 the vagrant in the Tuileries Gardens some years ago, who 
 walked about with a gag on, and when taken up by the police 
 and questioned why he went about in that guise, he said he 
 was imprudent, and that he might not say anything to get him- 
 self into jeopardy he had adopted this precaution. I wonder 
 what Lambton would say now about appointing others instead 
 of Palmerston and Co. if they should go out, which he talked 
 of as such an easy and indifferent matter. What arrogance 
 and folly there is in the world ! I don't know how long this 
 will last, but it must end in Peel's being prime minister. 
 What a foolish proverb that is that " honesty is the best 
 policy." 
 
 I am just come home from breakfasting with Henry Taylor 
 to meet Wordsworth ; the same party as when he had Southey
 
 204 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1831. 
 
 Mill, Elliot, Charles Villiers. Wordsworth may be border- 
 ing on sixty; hard featured, brown, wrinkled, with prominent 
 teeth and a few scattered gray hairs, but nevertheless not a 
 disagreeable countenance ; and very cheerful, merry, courteous, 
 and talkative, much more so than I should have expected from 
 the grave and didactic character of his writings. He held forth 
 on poetry, painting, politics, and metaphysics, and with a great 
 deal of eloquence ; he is more conversible and with a greater 
 flow of animal spirits than Southey. He mentioned that he 
 never wrote down as he composed, but composed walking, 
 riding, or in bed, and wrote down after ; that Southey always 
 composes at his desk. He talked a great deal of Brougham, 
 whose talents and domestic virtues he greatly admires ; that 
 he was very generous and affectionate in his disposition, full 
 of duty and attention to his mother, and had adopted and pro- 
 vided for a whole family of his brother's children, and treats 
 his wife's children as if they were his own. He insisted upon 
 taking them both with him to the drawing room the other day 
 when he went in state as chancellor. They remonstrated with 
 him, but in vain. 
 
 March "jth. Grant gave me a curious account of old Sir 
 Robert Peel. He was the younger son of a merchant, his 
 fortune (very small) left to him in the house, and he was not to 
 take it out. He gave up the fortune and started in business 
 without a shilling, but as the active partner in a concern with 
 two other men Yates (whose daughter he afterwards mar- 
 ried) and another who between them made up 6,ooo/. ; 
 from this beginning he left 250,0007. apiece to his five younger 
 sons, 6o,ooo/. to his three daughters each, and 22,ooo/. a year 
 in land and 450,0007. in the funds to Peel. In his life-time he 
 rave Peel I2,ooo/. a year, the others 3,ooo/., and spent 3,ooo/. 
 himself. He was always giving them money, and for objects 
 which it might have been thought he would have undervalued. 
 He paid for Peel's house when he built it, and for the Cha- 
 peau de Paille (2.700 guineas) when he bought it. 
 
 March i$th. I dined with Lord Grey on Sunday ; they are 
 all in high spirits. Howick told his father that he had re-
 
 1831.] HENRY BROUGHAM. 205 
 
 ceived a letter from some merchant in the north praising the 
 bill, and saying he approved of the whole government except 
 of Poulett Thomson. In the evening Brougham, John Rus- 
 sell, and others arrived. I hear of Brougham from Sefton, 
 with whom he passes most of his spare time, to relieve his 
 mind by small talk, persiflage, and the gossip of the day. He 
 tells Sefton " that he likes his office, but that it is a mere play- 
 thing and there is nothing to do ; his life is too idle, and when 
 he has cleared off the arrears, which he shall do forthwith, 
 that he really does not know how he shall get rid of his time ; " 
 that " he does not suffer the prolixity of counsel, and when 
 they wander from the point he brings them back and says, 
 ' You need not say anything on that point ; what I want to be 
 informed upon is so.' " He is a wonderful man, the most ex- 
 traordinary I ever saw, but there is more of the mountebank 
 than of greatness in all this. It may do well enough for Sefton, 
 who is as ignorant as he is sharp and shrewd, and captivated 
 with his congenial off-handism, but it requires something more 
 than Brougham's flippant ipse dixit to convince me that the 
 office of chancellor is such a sinecure and bagatelle. He had 
 a levee the other night, which was brilliantly attended the 
 archbishops, Duke of Wellington, Lord Grey, a host of peo- 
 ple. Sefton goes and sits in his private room and sees his 
 receptions of people, and gives very amusing accounts of his 
 extreme politeness to the Lord Mayor and his cool insou- 
 ciance with the Archbishop of Canterbury. The stories of 
 him as told by Sefton would be invaluable to his future biog- 
 rapher, and never was a life more sure to be written here- 
 after. 
 
 March i"jth. Brougham has been getting into a squabble 
 with the military. At the drawing-room on Thursday they re- 
 fused to let his carriage pass through the Horse Guards, 
 when he ordered his coachman to force his way through, 
 which he did. He was quite wrong, and it was very unbe- 
 coming and undignified. Lord Londonderry called for an ex- 
 planation in the House of Lords, when Brougham made a 
 speech, and a very lame one. He said he ordered his coach-
 
 206 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1831. 
 
 man to go back, who did not hear him and went on, and when 
 he had got through he thought it was not worth while to turn 
 back. The lords laughed. A few days after he drove over 
 the soldiers in Downing Street, who were relieving guard ; 
 but this time he did no great harm to the men, and it was not 
 his fault, but these things ate talked of. 
 
 Dined yesterday with General Macdonald to meet the 
 Kembles. Miss Fanny is near being very handsome from the 
 extraordinary expression of her countenance and fine eyes, 
 but her figure is not good. She is short, hands and feet large, 
 arms handsome, skin dark and coarse, and her manner wants 
 ease and repose. Her mother is a very agreeable woman. I 
 did not sit next to Fanny, and had no talk with her after- 
 wards. 
 
 March i^th. Nothing particularly at the levee ; Brougham 
 very good fun. The King, who had put off going to the 
 opera on account of the death of his son-in-law Kennedy, ap- 
 peared in mourning (crape, that is), which is reckoned bad 
 taste ; the public allow natural feeling to supersede law and 
 etiquette, but it is too much to extend that courtesy to a "son- 
 in-law," and his daughter is not in England. Somebody said 
 that " it was the first time a King of England had appeared in 
 mourning that his subjects did not wear." In the evening to 
 the Ancient Concert, where the Queen was, and by the bye in 
 mourning, and the Margravine and Duchess of Gloucester 
 too, but they (the two latter) could hardly be mourning for 
 Lord Cassilis's son. 
 
 April 24///. At Newmarket all last week, and returned to 
 town last night to hear from those who saw them the ex- 
 traordinary scenes in both Houses of 'Parliament (the day be- 
 fore) which closed the eventful week. The reform battle 
 began again on Monday last. The night before I went out of 
 town I met Duncannon, and walked with him up Regent 
 Street, when he told me that he did not believe the ministers 
 would be beaten, but if they were they should certainly dis- 
 solve instantly ; that he should have liked to dissolve long 
 ago, but they owed it to their friends not to have recourse to a
 
 1831.] A ROW IN THE HOUSE. 2O/ 
 
 dissolution if they could help it. On Monday General Gas- 
 coyne moved that the committee should be instructed not to 
 reduce the members of the House of Commons, and this was 
 carried after two nights' debate by eight. The dissolution 
 was then decided upon. Meanwhile Lord Wharncliffe gave 
 notice of a motion to address the King not to dissolve Parlia- 
 ment, and this was to have come on on Friday. On Thurs- 
 day the ministers were again beaten in the House of Com- 
 mons on a question of adjournment, and on Friday morning 
 they got the King to go down and prorogue Parliament in per- 
 son the same day. This coup d^dtat was so sudden that no- 
 body was aware of it till within two or three hours of the time, 
 and many not at all. They told him that the cream-colored 
 horses could not be got ready, when he said, " Then I will go 
 with anybody else's horses." Somebody went off in a car- 
 riage to the Tower to fetch the crown, and they collected such 
 attendants as they could find to go with his Majesty. The 
 Houses met at one or two o'clock. In the House of Com- 
 mons Sir R. Vyvyan made a furious speech, attacking the 
 government on every point, and (excited as he was) it was 
 very well done. The ministers made no reply, but Sir Fran- 
 cis Burdett and Tennyson endeavored to interrupt with calls 
 to order, and when the Speaker decided that Vyvyan was not 
 out of order Tennyson disputed his opinion, which enraged 
 the Speaker, and soon after called up Peel, for whom he was 
 resolved to procure a hearing. The scene then resembled 
 that which took place on Lord North's resignation in 1782, for 
 Althorp (I think) moved that Burdett should be heard, and the 
 Speaker said that " Peel was in possession of the House to 
 speak on that motion." He made a very violent speech, at- 
 tacking the government for their incompetence, folly, and 
 recklessness, and treated them with the utmost asperity and 
 contempt. In the midst of his speech the guns announced the 
 arrival of the King, and at each explosion the government 
 gave a loud cheer, and Peel was still speaking in the midst of 
 every sort of noise and tumult when the usher of the black 
 rod knocked at the door to summon the Commons to the
 
 THE GKEVILLE MEMOIRS. [1831. 
 
 House of Peers. There the proceedings were if possible still 
 more violent and outrageous ; those who were present tell me 
 it resembled nothing but what we read of the " Serment du 
 Jeu de Paume," and the whole scene was as much like the 
 preparatory days of a revolution as can well be imagined. 
 Wharncliffe was to have moved an address to the crown 
 against dissolving Parliament, and this motion the ministers 
 were resolved should not come on, but he contrived to bring it 
 on so far as to get it put upon the journals. The Duke of 
 Richmond endeavored to prevent any speaking by raising 
 points of order, and moving that the lords should take their 
 regular places (in separate ranks), which, however, is impos- 
 sible at a royal sitting, because the cross benches are re- 
 moved ; this put Lord Londonderry in such a fury that he 
 rose, roared, gesticulated, held up his whip, and four or five 
 lords held him down by the tail of his coat to prevent his fly- 
 ing on somebody. Lord Lyndhurst was equally furious, and 
 some sharp words passed which were not distinctly heard. 
 In the midst of all the din Lord Mansfield rose and obtained a 
 hearing. Wharncliffe said to him, " For God's sake, Mans- 
 field, take care what you are about, and don't disgrace us 
 more in the state we are in." " Don't be afraid," he said ; 
 " I will say nothing that will alarm you ; " and accordingly he 
 pronounced a trimming philippic on the government, which, 
 delivered as it was in an imposing manner, attired in his 
 robes, and with the greatest energy and excitation, was pro- 
 digiously effective. While he was still speaking the King 
 arrived, but he did not desist even while his Majesty 1 was en- 
 tering the House of Lords, nor till he approached the throne ; 
 
 1 When Lord Mansfield sat down he said, ' I hsve spoken English to them at 
 least." Lord Lyndhurst told me that Lord Mansfield stopped speaking as soon as 
 the door opened to admit the King. He said he never s.iw him so excited before, 
 and in his robes he looked very grand. He also told me that he was at Lady Hol- 
 land's giving an account of the scene, when Biougham came in. He said, " I was 
 teiling them what passed the other day in our House, ' : when Brougham explained 
 his part by saying that the usher of the black rod (Tyrwhit) was at his elbow saying, 
 " My Lord Chancellor, you must come ; the King is waiting for you : cume along; 
 you must come," and that he was thus dragged out of the House in this hurry, and 
 without having time to sit down or say any more-
 
 1831-] "/ WEAR THE CROWN." 209 
 
 and while the King was ascending the steps the hoarse voice 
 of Lord Londonderry was. heard crying " Hear, hear, hear ! " 
 The King from the robing- room heard the noise, and asked 
 what it all meant. The conduct of the Chancellor was most 
 extraordinary, skipping in and out of the House and making 
 most extraordinary speeches. In the midst of the uproar he 
 went out of the House, when Lord Shaftesbury was moved 
 into the chair. In the middle of the debate Brougham again 
 came in and said " it was most extraordinary that the King's 
 undoubted right to dissolve Parliament should be questioned 
 at a moment when the House of Commons had taken the un- 
 precedented course of stopping the supplies," and having so 
 said (which was a lie) he flounced out of the House to receive 
 the King on his arrival. The King ought not properly to 
 have worn the crown, never having been crowned ; but when 
 he was in the robing-room he said to Lord Hastings, " Lord 
 Hastings, I wear the crown ; where is it?" It was brought 
 to him, and when Lord Hastings was going to put it on his 
 head he said, " Nobody shall put the crown on my head but 
 myself." He put it on, and then turned to Lord Grey and 
 said, " Now, my lord, the coronation is over." George Vil- 
 liers said that in his life he never saw such a scene, and as he 
 looked at the King upon the throne with the crown loose upon 
 his head, and the tall, grim figure of Lord Grey close beside 
 him with the sword of state in his hand, it was as if the King 
 had got his executioner by his side, and the whole picture 
 looked strikingly typical of his and our future destinies. 
 
 April 2()tk. The night before last there was an illumina- 
 tion, got up by the foolish Lord Mayor, which of course pro- 
 duced an uproar and a general breaking of obnoxious win- 
 dows. Lord Mansfield and the Duke of Buccleuch went to 
 Melbourne in the morning and remonstrated, asking what 
 protection he meant to afford to their properties. A gun 
 (with powder only) was fired over the heads of the mob from 
 Apsley House, and they did not go there again. The govern- 
 ment might have discouraged this manifestation of triumph, 
 but they wished for it for the purpose of increasing the pop-
 
 210 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1831. 
 
 ular excitement. They don't care what they do, or what 
 others do, so long as they can keep the people in a ferment. 
 It is disgusting to the last degree to hear their joy and exul- 
 tation at the success of their measures and the good pros- 
 pects held out to them by the elections : all of which may 
 turn out very well, but if it does not "who shall set hoddy- 
 doddy up again ? " 
 
 May "jth. The King has put off his visit to the city be- 
 cause he is ill, as the goverment would have it believed, but 
 really because he is furious with the Lord Mayor at all the 
 riots and uproar on the night of the illumination. That night 
 the Queen went to the Ancient Concert, and on her return 
 the mob surrounded the carriage ; she had no guards, and 
 the footmen were obliged to beat the people off with their 
 canes to prevent their thrusting their heads into the coach. 
 She was frightened and the King very much annoyed. He 
 heard the noise and tumult, and paced backwards and for- 
 wards in his room waiting for her return. When she came 
 back Lord Howe, her chamberlain, as usual preceded her, 
 when the King said, " How is the Queen ? " and went down 
 to meet her. Howe, who is an eager anti-reformer, said, 
 "Very much frightened, sir," and made the worst of it. She 
 was in fact terrified, and as she detests the whole of these 
 proceedings the more distressed and disgusted. The King 
 was very angry anu immediately declared he would not go to 
 the city at all. 
 
 June $th. All last week at Fern Hill for the Ascot races ; 
 the Chesterfields, Tavistocks, Belfasts, George Ansons, Mon- 
 tague, Stradbroke, and Brooke Greville were there. The 
 royal family came to the course the first day with a great 
 cortege eight coaches and four, two phaetons, pony socia- 
 bles, and led horses Munster riding on horseback behind 
 the King's carriage, Augustus (the parson) and Frederick 
 driving phaetons. The Duke of Richmond was in the King's 
 caleche and Lord Grey in one of the coaches. The recep- 
 tion was strikingly cold and indifferent, not half so good as 
 that which the late King used to receive. William was bored
 
 1831.] DINNER AT WINDSOR. 211 
 
 to death with the races, and his own horse broke down. On 
 Wednesday he did not come ; on Thursday they came again. 
 Beautiful weather and unprecedented multitudes. The King 
 was much more cheered than the first day, or the greater 
 number of people made a greater noise. A few cheers were 
 given to Lord Grey as he returned, which he just acknowl- 
 edged and no more. On Friday we dined at the Castle ; each 
 clay the King asked a crowd of people from the neighborhood. 
 We arrived at a little before seven ; the Queen was only just 
 come in from riding, so we had to wait till near eight. Above 
 forty people at dinner, for which the room is not nearly large 
 enough ; the dinner was not bad, but the room insufferably 
 hot. The Queen was taken out by the Duke of Richmond, 
 and the King followed with the Duchess of Saxe- Weimar, 
 the Queen's sister. He drinks wine with everybody, asking 
 seven or eight at a time. After dinner he drops asleep. We 
 sat for a short time. Directly after coffee the band began to 
 play ; a good band, not numerous, and principally of violins 
 and stringed instruments. The Queen and the whole party 
 sat there all the evening, so that it was, in fact, a concert of 
 instrumental music. The King took Lady Tavistock to St. 
 George's Hall and the ball room, where we walked about, 
 with two or three servants carrying lamps to show the propor- 
 tions, for it was not lit up. The whole thing is exceedingly 
 magnificent, and the manner of life does not appear to be 
 very formal, and need not be disagreeable but for the bore 
 of never dining without twenty strangers. The Castle holds 
 very few people, and with the King's and Queen's immediate 
 suite and toute la b&tardise it was quite full. The King's 
 four sons were there, signoreggianti tutti, and the whole thing 
 " donnait a penser" to those who looked back a little and had 
 seen other days. We sat in that room in which Lyndhurst 
 has often talked to me of the famous five hours' discussion 
 with the late King, when the Catholic Bill hung upon his 
 caprice. Palmerston told me he had never been in the Castle 
 since the eventful day of Herries's appointment and non-ap- 
 pointment ; and how many things have happened since. What
 
 212 THE GKEVILLE MEMOIRS. [1831. 
 
 a changement de decoration; no longer George IV., capricious, 
 luxurious, and misanthropic, liking nothing but the society of 
 listeners and flatterers, with the Conyngham tribe and one or 
 two Tory ministers and foreign ambassadors ; but a plain 
 vulgar, hospitable gentleman, opening his doors to all the 
 world, with a numerous family and suite, a Whig ministry, no 
 foreigners, and no toad-eaters at all. Nothing can be more 
 different, and looking at him one sees how soon this act will 
 be finished, and the same be changed for another probably 
 not less dissimilar. Queen, bastards, Whigs, 1 all will disap- 
 pear, and God knows what replaces them. Came to town 
 yesterday, and found a quarrel between Henry Bentinck and 
 Sir Roger Gresley, which I had to settle, and did settle ami- 
 cably in the course of the evening. 
 
 June 7th. Dined with Sefton yesterday, who gave me an 
 account of a dinner at Fowell Buxton's on Saturday to see the 
 brewery, at which Brougham was the " magnus Apollo." Sefton 
 is excellent as a commentator on Brougham ; he says that he 
 watches him incessantly, never listens to anybody else when 
 he is there, and rows him unmercifully afterwards for all the 
 humbug, nonsense, and palaver he hears him talk to people. 
 They were twenty-seven at dinner. Talleyrand was to have 
 gone, but was frightened by being told that he would get noth- 
 ing but beefsteaks and porter, so he stayed away. They 
 dined in the brewhouse and visited the whole establishment. 
 Lord Grey was there in star, garter, and ribbon. There 
 were people ready to show and explain everything, but not a 
 bit Brougham took the explanation of everything into his 
 own hands the mode of brewing, the machinery, down to 
 the feeding of the cart horses. After dinner the account-books 
 were brought, and the young Buxtons were beckoned up to 
 the top of the table by their father to hear the words of wisdom 
 that flowed from the lips of my Lord Chancellor. He affected 
 to study the ledger, and made various pertinent remarks on the 
 manner of book-keeping. There was a man whom Brougham 
 called " Cornelius " (Sefton did not know who he was) with 
 
 1 Not Whigs they are Its Urnvenus, wlrch they were not be.'bre. 7"fy, 1838.
 
 1831.] BROUGHAM KNOWS EVERYTHING. 21 3 
 
 whom he seemed very familiar. While Brougham was talking 
 he dropped his voice, on which " Cornelius " said, " Earl Grey 
 is listening," that he might speak louder and so nothing be 
 lost. He was talking of Paley, and said that "although he did 
 not always understand his own meaning, he always contrived 
 to make it intelligible to others," on which " Cornelius " said 
 " My good friend, if he made it so clear to others he must have 
 had some comprehension of it himself ; " on which Sefton 
 attacked him afterwards, and swore that " he was a mere child 
 in the hands of ' Cornelius,' " that " he never saw anybody so 
 put down." These people are all subscribers to the London 
 University, and Sefton swears he overhead Brougham tell them 
 that "Sir Isaac Newton was nothing compared to some of the 
 present professors," or something to that effect. I put down 
 all this nonsense because it amused me in the recital, and is 
 excessively characteristic of the man, one of the most re- 
 markable who over existed. Lady Sefton told me that he 
 went with them to the British Museum, where all the officers 
 of the Museum were in attendance to receive them. He would 
 not let anybody explain anything, but did all the honors him- 
 self. At last they came to the collection of minerals, when 
 she thought he must be brought to a standstill. Their con- 
 ductor began to describe them, when Brougham took the words 
 out of his mouth, and dashed off with as much ease and famil- 
 iarity as if he had been a Buckland or a Cuvier. Such is 
 the man, a grand mixture of moral, political, and intellectual 
 incongruities. 
 
 June l^d. The King opened Parliament on Tuesday, 
 with a greater crowd assembled to see him pass than was ever 
 congregated before, and the House of Lords was so full of 
 ladies that the peers could not find places. The speech was 
 long, but good, and such as to preclude the posibility of an 
 amendment. There was, however, a long discussion in each 
 House, and the greatest bitterness and violence evinced in 
 both every promise of a stormy session. Lord Landsdowne 
 said to the King, " I am afraid, sir, you won't be able to see 
 the Commons." "Never mind," said he; "they shall hear
 
 214 TIIE GKEl'JLLb MEMOIRS. [1831 
 
 me, I promise you," and accordingly he thundered forth the 
 speech so that not a word was lost. 
 
 July loth. They have made a fine business of Cobbett's 
 trial ; his insolence and violence were past endurance, but he 
 made an able speech. The Chief Justice was very timid, and 
 favored and complimented him throughout ; very unlike what 
 Ellenborough would have done. The jury were shut up the 
 the whole night and in the morning the Chief Justice, without 
 consulting either party, discharged them, which was probably 
 on the whule the best that could be done. Denman told me 
 that he expected they would have acquitted him without leaving 
 the box, and this principally on account of Brougham's evi- 
 dence, for Cobbett brought the Chancellor forward and made 
 him prove that after these very writings, and while this pros- 
 ecution was hanging over him, Brougham wrote to his son 
 " Dear Sir," and requesting he would ask his father for some 
 former publications of his, which he thought would be of great 
 use on the present occasion in quieting the laborers. This 
 made a great impression, and the Attorney-general never 
 knew one word of the letter till he heard it in evidence, the 
 Chancellor having flourished it off, as is his custom, and then 
 quite forgotten it. The Attorney told me that Gurney over- 
 heard one juryman say to another, " Don't you think we had 
 better stop the case ? It is useless to go on." The other, 
 however, declared for hearing it out, so on the whole it ended 
 as well as it might, just better than an acquittal, and that is 
 all. 
 
 July 2oth. Halford has been with me this morning gossip- 
 ing (which he likes) ; he gave me an account of his discovery 
 of the head of Charles I. in St. George's Chapel, Windsor, to 
 which he was directed by Wood's account in the "Athenae 
 Oxonienses." He says that they also found the coffin of Henry 
 VIII., but that the air had penetrated and the body had been 
 reduced to a skeleton. By his side was Jane Seymour's coffin 
 untouched, and he has no doubt her body is perfect. The 
 late King intended to have it opened, and he says he will 
 propose it to this King. By degrees we may visit the re-
 
 iSji.] THE QUEEN'S CROWN. 21$ 
 
 mains of the whole line of Tudor and Plantagenet too, and 
 see if those famous old creatures were like their effigies. 
 He says Charles's head was exactly as Vandyke had painted 
 him. 
 
 August <)th. On Sunday, overtaken by the most dreadful 
 storm I ever saw flashes of lightning, crashes of thunder, 
 and the rain descending like a waterspout I rode to Wind- 
 sor, to settle with the Queen what sort of crown she would 
 have to be crowned in. I was ushered into the King's pres- 
 ence, who was sitting at a red table in the sitting-room of 
 George IV., looking over the flower garden. A picture of 
 Adolphus Fitzclarence was behind him (a full-length), and one 
 of the parson, Rev. Augustus Fitzclarence, in a Greek dress, 
 opposite. He sent for the Queen, who came with the Land- 
 gravine and one of the King's daughters, Lady Augusta Er- 
 skine, the widow of Lord Cassilis's son. She looked at the 
 darwings, meant apparently to be civil to me in her ungracious 
 way, and said she would have none of our crowns, that she did 
 not like to wear a hired crown, and asked me if I thought it 
 was right that she should. I said, " Madam, I can only say 
 that the late King wore one at his coronation." However, she 
 said, " I do not like it, and I have got jewels enough, so I 
 will have them made up myself." The King said to me, 
 " Very well ; then j<w will have to pay for the setting." " Oh, 
 no," she said ; " I shall pay for it all myself." The King 
 looked well, but seemed infirm. 
 
 August nth. I went to the play last night at a very 
 shabby little house called the City Theatre a long way be- 
 yond the post-office to see Ellen Tree act in a translation 
 of " Une Faute," one of the best pieces of acting I ever saw. 
 This girl will turn out very good if she remains on the stage. 
 She has never been brought forward at Covent Garden, and I 
 heard last night the reason why. Charles Kemble took a 
 great fancy for her (she is excessively pretty), and made her 
 splendid offers of. putting her into the best parts, and advanc- 
 ing her in all ways, if she would be propitious to his flame, 
 but which she indignantly refused ; so he revenged himself (to
 
 2l6 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1831. 
 
 his own detriment) by keeping her back and promoting in- 
 ferior actresses instead. If ever she acquires fame, which is 
 very probable, for she has as much nature, and feeling, and 
 passion as I ever saw, this will be a curious anecdote. [She 
 married Charles Kean, lost her good looks, and became a tire- 
 some, second-rate actress.] 
 
 Stoke, August T&th. The King did a droll thing the other 
 day. The ceremonial of the coronation was taken down to 
 him for approval. The homage is first done by the spiritual 
 peers, with the Archbishop at their head. The first of each 
 class (the Archbishop for the spiritual) says the words, and 
 then they all kiss his cheek in succession. He said he would 
 not be kissed by the bishops, and ordered that part to be 
 struck out. As I expected, the prelates would not stand it ; 
 the Archbishop remonstrated, the King knocked under, and 
 so he must undergo the salute of the spiritual as well as of 
 the temporal lords. 
 
 August y>th. Left Stoke yesterday morning; a large 
 party Talleyrand, De Ros, Fitzroy Somersets, Motteux, 
 John Russell, Alava, Byng. In the evening Talleyrand dis- 
 coursed, but I did not hear much of him. I was gouty and 
 could not stand, and all the places near him were taken. I 
 have never heard him narrate comfortably, and he is difficult 
 to understand. He talked of Franklin. I asked him if he 
 was remarkable in conversation : he said he was from his 
 great simplicity and the evident strength of his mind. He 
 spoke of the coronation of the Emperor Alexander. Some- 
 body wrote him a letter at the time, from Moscow with this 
 expression : " L'Empereur marchait, pre'ce'de' des assassins de 
 son grandpere, entoure' de ceux de son pere, et suivi par les 
 siens." He said of the Count de Saint-Germain (whom he 
 never saw), that there is an account of him in Craufurd's book ; 
 nobody knew whence he came nor whither he went ; he ap- 
 peared at Paris suddenly, and disappeared in the same way, 
 lived in an hotel garni, had always plenty of money, and paid 
 for everything regularly ; he talked of events and persons con- 
 nected with history, both ancient and modern, with entire fa-
 
 1831.] COUNT DE SAINT-GERMAIN. 
 
 miliarity and a correctness which never was at fault, and al- 
 ways of the people as if he had lived with them and known 
 them, as Talleyrand exemplified it he would say, " Un jour 
 que je dinais chez Char." 1 He was supposed to be the 
 Wandering Jew, a story which has always appeared to tne a 
 very sublime fiction, telling of 
 
 " That settled, ceaseless gloom 
 
 The fabled Hebrew wanderer bore, 
 
 Which will not look beyond the tomb, 
 
 Which cannot hope for rest before." 
 
 Then he related Mallet's conspiracy and the strange way in 
 which he heard it. Early in the morning his tailor came to 
 his house and insisted on seeing him. He was in bed, but on 
 his valet de chambre's telling him how pressing the tailor was, 
 he ordered him to be let in. The man said, " Have you not 
 heard the news ? There is a revolution in Paris." It had 
 come to the tailor's knowledge by Mallet's going to him the 
 very first thing to order a new uniform ! Talleyrand said the 
 conspirators ought to have put to death Cambace'res and the 
 King of Rome. I asked him if they had done so whether he 
 thought it possible the thing might have succeeded. He said, 
 " Cest possible.' 1 '' To my question whether the Emperor 
 would not have blown away the whole conspiracy in a mo- 
 ment he replied, " Ce n'est pas sur, c'est possible que cela 
 aurait re'ttssi." 
 
 He afterwards talked of Madame de Stae'l and Monti. They 
 met at Madame de Marescalchi's villa near Bologna, and were 
 profuse of compliments and admiration for each other. Each 
 
 1 This mysterious adventurer died in the arms of Prince Charles of Hesse, in 
 1784 ; and some account of him is to be found in the Memoirs of that personage, 
 quoted in the Edinburgh Review, vol. cxxiii. p. 521. The Count de Saint-Ger- 
 main was a man of science, especially versed in chemistry, botany, and metallurgy. 
 He is supposed to have derived his money from an invention in the art of dyeing. 
 According to his own account of himself he was a son of Prince Ragozky of Transyl- 
 vania and his first wife, a Tekely, and he was Protestant and educated by the last of 
 the Medicis. He was supposed to be ninety-two or ninety-three when he died. His 
 knowledge of the arcana of science and his mysterious manner of life had given him 
 something of the reputation of a wizard and a conjuror, but he was an honorable and 
 benevolent man, not to be confounded with such charlatans as Mesmer and Caglios- 
 <ro.
 
 2l8 THE GREV1LLE MEMOIRS. [1831. 
 
 brought a copy of their respective works beautifully oound to 
 present to the other. After a day passed in an interchange of 
 literary flatteries, and the most ardent expressions of delight, 
 they separated, but each forgot to carry away the present of 
 the other, and the books remain in Madame de Marescalchi's 
 library to this day. 
 
 September ^d. On Wednesday a council was held. Very 
 few of the ministers stay for the councils ; small blame to 
 them, as the Irish say, for we are kept about three times as 
 long by this regular, punctual King as by the capricious, irreg- 
 ular monarch who last ruled over us. This King is a queer 
 fellow. Our council was principally for a new great seal and 
 to deface the old seal. The Chancellor claims the old one as 
 his perquisite. I had forgotten the hammer, so the King said, 
 " My lord, the best thing I can do is to give you the seal, 
 and tell you to take it and do what you please with it." The 
 Chancellor said, " Sir, I believe there is some doubt whether 
 Lord Lyndhurst ought not to have half of it, as he was chan- 
 cellor at the time of your Majesty's accession." " Well," said 
 the King, "then I will judge between you like Solomon ; here 
 (turning the seal round and round), now do you cry heads or 
 tails ? " We all laughed, and the Chancellor said, " Sir, I 
 take the bottom part." The King opened the two compart- 
 ments of the seal and said, " Now then, I employ you as 
 ministers of taste. You will send for Bridge, my silversmith, 
 and desire him to convert the two halves each into a salver, 
 with my arms on one side and yours on the other, and Lord 
 Lyndhurst's the same, and you will take one and give him the 
 other, and both keep them as presents from me." The Duch- 
 ess of Kent will not attend the coronation, and there is a re- 
 port that the King is unwilling to make all the peers that are 
 required ; this is the current talk of the day. 
 
 September 8/A. After dinner I had much talk with the 
 Duke, who told me a good deal about the late King and the 
 Duchess of Kent ; talked of his extravagance and love of 
 spending, provided that it was not his own money that he 
 spent ; he told an old story he had heard of Mrs. Fitzher-
 
 1831. 1 GEORGE IV. 219 
 
 bert's being obliged to borrow money for his post-horses to 
 take him to Newmarket, that not a guinea was forthcoming 
 to make stakes for some match, and when on George Leigh's 1 
 entreaty he allowed some box to be searched, that 3,ooo/. was 
 found in it. He always had money. When he died, they 
 found io,ooo/. in his boxes and money scattered about every- 
 where, a great deal of gold. There were above 500 pocket- 
 books, of different dates, and in every one money guineas, 
 one pound notes, one, two, or three in each. There never 
 was anything like the quantity of trinkets and trash that they 
 found. He had never given away or parted with anything. 
 ThfeYe was a prodigious quantity of hair women's hair 
 of all colors and lengths, some locks with the powder and 
 pomatum still sticking to them, heaps of women's gloves, 
 gages d'amour which he had got at balls, and with the per- 
 spiration still marked on the fingers, notes and letters in 
 abundance, but not much that was of any political conse- 
 quence, and the whole was destroyed. Of his will he said 
 that it was made in 1823 by Lord Eldon, very well drawn ; that 
 he desired his executors might take all he had to pay his 
 debts and sucii legacies as he might bequeath in any codicils 
 he should make. He made no codicils and left no debts, so 
 the King got. all as heir-at-law. Knighton had managed his 
 affairs very well, and got him out of debt. A good deal of 
 money was disbursed in charity, a good deal through the 
 medium of two or three old women. The Duke, talking of 
 his love of ordering and expense, said that when he was to 
 ride at the last coronation the King said, " You must have a 
 very fine saddle," " What sort of saddle does your Majesty 
 wish me to have ? " " Send Cuflfe to me." Accordingly 
 Cuffe went to him, and the Duke had to pay some hundreds 
 for his saddle. (While I am writing the King and Queen 
 with their cortege are passing down to Westminster Abbey to 
 the coronation ; a grand procession, a fine day, an immense 
 crowd, and great acclamations.) 
 
 1 Colonel George Leigh, who managed his race-horses ; he was married to Lord 
 Byron's half-sister.
 
 220 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1831. 
 
 We then talked of the Duchess of Kent, and I asked him 
 why she set herself in such opposition to the court. He said 
 that Sir John Conroy was her adviser, that he was sure of it. 
 What he then told me throws some light upon her ill humor 
 and displays her wrong-headedness. In the first place the late 
 King disliked her ; the Duke of Cumberland too was her 
 enemy, and George IV., who was as great a despot as ever 
 lived, was always talking of taking her child from her, which 
 he inevitably would have done but for the Duke, who, wishing 
 to prevent quarrels, did all in his power to deter the King, 
 not by opposing him when he talked of it, which he often did, 
 but by putting the thing off as well as he could. However, 
 when the Duchess of Cumberland came over, and there was 
 a question how the royal family would receive her, he 
 thought he might reconcile the Cumberlands to the Duchess 
 of Kent by engaging her to be civil to the Duchess of Cum- 
 berland, so he desired Leopold to advise his sister (who was 
 in the country) from him very strongly to write to the Duchess 
 of Cumberland and express her regret at being absent on her 
 arrival, and so prevented from calling on her. The Duchess 
 sent Leopold back to the Duke to ask why he gave her this 
 advice ? The Duke replied that he should not say why, that 
 he knew more of what was going on than she possibly could, 
 that he gave her this advice for her own benefit, and again 
 repeated that she had better act on it. The Duchess said 
 she was ready to give him credit for the goodness of his 
 counsel, though he would not say what his reasons were, and 
 she did as he suggested. This succeeded, and the Duke of 
 Cumberland ceased to blow the coals. Matters went on qui- 
 etly till the King died. As soon as he was dead the Duchess 
 of Kent wrote to the Duke, and desired that she might be 
 treated as a Dowager Princess of Wales, with a suitable in- 
 come for herself and her daughter, who she also desired might 
 be treated as heiress apparent, and that she should have the 
 sole control over the allowance to be made for both. The 
 Duke replied that her proposition was altogether inadmis- 
 sible, and that he could not possibly think of proposing any-
 
 1831.] DUCHESS OF KENT. 221 
 
 thing for her till the matters regarding the King s civil list 
 were settled, but that she might rely upon it that no measure 
 which affected her in any way should be considered without 
 being imparted to her and the fullest information given her. 
 At this it appears she took great offense, for she did not 
 speak to him for a long time after. 
 
 When the Regency Bill was framed the Duke desired the 
 King's leave to wait upon the Duchess of Kent and show it 
 to her, to which his Majesty assented, and accordingly he 
 wrote to her to say he would call upon her the next day 
 with the draft of the bill. She was at Claremont, and sent 
 word that she was out of town, but desired he would send 
 it to her in the country. He said she ought to have sent 
 Sir John Conroy to him, or have desired him to go to her at 
 Claremont, which he would have done, but he wrote her word 
 that he could not explain by letter so fully what he had to say 
 as he could have done in a personal interview, but he would 
 do so as well as he could. In the mean time Lord Lyndhurst 
 brought on the measure in the House of Lords, and she sent 
 Conroy up to hear him. He returned to Claremont just after 
 the Duchess had received the Duke's letter. Since that he 
 has dined with her. 
 
 [I must say the King is punctual ; the cannon are now 
 firing to announce his arrival at the Abbey, and my clock is at 
 the same moment striking eleven ; at eleven it was announced 
 that he would be there.] 
 
 His Majesty, I hear, was in great ill-humor at the levee 
 yesterday ; contrary to his usual custom he sent for nobody 
 and gave no audiences, but at ten minutes after one flounced 
 into the levee room ; not one minister was come but the Duke 
 of Richmond. Talleyrand and Esterhazy alone of the Corps 
 Diplomatique were in the next room. He attacked the officer 
 of the Guards for not having his cap on his head, and sent for 
 the officer on guard, who was not arrived, at which he ex- 
 pressed great ire. It is supposed that the peerages have put 
 him out of temper. His Majesty did a very strange thing 
 about them. Though their patents are not made out, and
 
 222 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1831. 
 
 the new peers are no more peers than I am, he desired them 
 to appear as such in Westminster Abbey and do homage. 
 Colonel Berkeley asked me what he should do, and said what 
 the King had desired of him. I told him he should do no 
 such thing, and he said he would go to the Chancellor and ask 
 him. I don't know how it ended. Howe told me yesterday 
 morning in Westminster Abbey that Lord Cleveland is to be a 
 duke, though it is not yet acknowledged if it be so. There 
 has been a battle about that ; they say that he got his boroughs 
 to be made a marquis and got rid of them to be made a duke. 1 
 
 September ijth. The coronation went off well, and wherea? 
 nobody was satisfied before it everybody was after it. 
 
 The talk of the town has been about the King and a toasf 
 he gave at a great dinner at St. James's the other day. He 
 had ninety guests all his ministers, all the great people, and 
 all the foreign ambassadors. After dinner he made a long, 
 rambling speech in French, and ended by giving as " a senti- 
 ment," as he called it, " The land we live in." This was be- 
 fore the ladies left the room. After they were gone he made 
 another speech in French, in the course of which he travelled 
 over every variety of topic that suggested itself to his excur- 
 sive mind, and ended with a very coarse toast and the word; 
 " Honi soit qui maly pense." Sefton, who told it me, said he 
 never felt so ashamed ; Lord Grey was ready to sink into the 
 earth ; everybody laughed of course, and Sefton, who sat next 
 to Talleyrand, said to him, " Eh bien, que pensez-vous dt 
 cela?" With his unmoved, immovable face he answered 
 only, " Cestbien remarquable." 
 
 September \<)th. Came to town. Talleyrand, Madame de 
 Dino, and Alava came to Stoke yesterday. Talleyrand had a 
 circle, but the Chancellor talked too much, and they rather 
 spoilt one another. He said one neat thing. They were talk- 
 ing of Madame d'Abrantes's " Memoirs," and of her mother. 
 Madame Pernon. My father said, " M. de Marboeuf e'tait un 
 pert 1'amant de Madame Pernon, n'est-ce pas ? " He said, 
 " Oui, mais je ne sais pas dans quelles proportions." 
 
 ! The Earl of Darlington had been made Marquis of Cleveland in 1827, and was 
 raised to the dukedom in January. 1833.
 
 1831.] RADICAL JONES. 22$ 
 
 Newmarket, October ist. Came here last night, to my 
 great joy, to get holidays, and leave reform and cholera and 
 politics for racing and its amusements. Just before I came 
 away I met Lord Wharncliffe, and asked him about his inter- 
 view with Radical Jones. This blackguard considers himself 
 a sort of chief of faction, and one of the heads of the sans- 
 culottins of the present day. He wrote to Lord Wharncliffe 
 and said he wished to confer with him ; that if he would grant 
 him an interview he might bring any person he pleased to wit- 
 ness what passed between them. Lord Wharncliffe replied 
 that he would call on him, and should be satisfied to have no 
 witness. Accordingly he did so, when the other in very civil 
 terms told him that he wished to try and impress upon his 
 mind (as he was one of the heads of anti reform in the House 
 of Lords) how dangerous it would be to reject this bill, that all 
 sorts of excesses would follow its rejection, that their persons 
 and properties would be periled, and resistance would be un- 
 availing, for that they (the reformers) were resolved to carry 
 their point. Lord Wharncliffe asked whether if this was con- 
 ceded they would be satisfied. Jones replied, " Certainly 
 not ; " that they must go a great deal farther ; that an heredi- 
 tary peerage was not to be defended on any reasonable theory. 
 Still, he was not for doing away with it ; that he wished the 
 changes that were inevitable to take place quietly, and without 
 violence or confusion. After some more discourse in this 
 strain they separated, but very civilly, and without any intem- 
 perance of expression on the part of the reformer. 
 
 November T&th. There seems to be a constant sort of 
 electrical reciprocity of effort between us and France just 
 now. The three days produced much of our political excite- 
 ment, and our Bristol business has been acted with great sim- 
 ilarity of circumstance at Lyons, and is still going on. Tal- 
 leyrand produced the " Moniteur " last night with the account, 
 lamented that the Due d'Orle'ans had been sent with Marshal 
 Soult to Lyons, which he said was unnecessary and absurd, 
 that Soult was the best man for the purpose of putting it 
 down. It was begun by the work-people, who were very nu-
 
 224 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1831. 
 
 merous, not political in its objects, but the cries denoted a 
 mixture of everything, as they shouted, " Henri V., Napole'on 
 II., La Rdpublique, and Bristol." He was at Lady Holland's, 
 looking very cadaverous, and not very talkative, talked of 
 Madame Du Barri, that she had been very handsome, and 
 had some remains of beauty up to the period of her death ; of 
 Luckner, who was guillotined, and as the car passed on, the 
 people cried (as they used), 'A la guillotine ! d la guillotine /' 
 Luckner turned round and said, " On y va canaille." 
 
 December 8t/i. At court yesterday to swear in Erskine, 1 
 Brougham's new chief judge in bankruptcy and privy coun- 
 cilor. The Chancellor is in a great rage with me. There is 
 an appeal to the Privy Council from a judgment of his (in 
 which he was wrong), the first appeal of the kind for above a 
 hundred years ; 2 I told him it was ready to be heard, and 
 begged to know if he had any wish as to who should be sum- 
 moned to hear it. He said very tartly, " Of course I shall 
 have somebody to hear it with me." I said, " Do you mean 
 to hear it yourself, then ? " " And pray why not ? don't I hear 
 appeals from myself every day in the House of Lords ? did n't 
 you see that I could not hear a case the other day because 
 Lord Lyndhurst was not there ? I have a right to hear it. I 
 sit there as a privy councilor." "Oh," I said, "you have cer- 
 tainly a right if you choose it." "You may rely upon it I 
 shall do nothing unusual in the Privy Council," and then he 
 flounced off in high dudgeon. I told Lord Lansdowne after- 
 wards, who said he should not allow it to be heard by him, 
 and should make a point of summoning all the great law au- 
 thorities of the Privy Council. This was the case of Drax v. 
 Grosvenor, which excited great interest, in which Brougham 
 tried to play all sorts of tricks to prevent his judgment being 
 reversed, which tricks I managed to defeat, and the judgment 
 was reversed, as is described farther on. I never had the ad- 
 
 1 Right Hon. Thomas Erskine, a son of Lord Chancellor Erskine, chief judge in 
 Bankruptcy, and afterwards a justice of the Court of Common Pleas. 
 
 2 It was an appeal in lunacy. No other appeals save in lunacy lie from the 
 Court of Chancery to the King in council, and these are very rare. Drax v. Gros- 
 enor is reported in Knapp's Privy Council Reports.
 
 1831.] LORD DURHAM. 22$ 
 
 vantage of seeing the Chancellor before in his sulks, though 
 he is by no means tmfrequently in them, very particularly so 
 this time last year when he was revolving in his mind whether 
 he should take the great seal, and when he thought he was ill- 
 used, so Auckland told me. 
 
 In the evening. George Bentinck told me this evening of 
 a scene which had been related to him by the Duke of Rich- 
 mond, that lately took place at a Cabinet dinner ; it was very 
 soon after Durham's return from abroad. He was furious at 
 the negotiations and question of compromise. Lord Grey is 
 always the object of his rage and impertinence, because he is 
 the only person whom he dares attack. After dinner he made 
 a violent sortie on Lord Grey (it was at Althorp's), said he 
 would be eternally disgraced if he suffered any alterations to 
 be made in this bill ; that he was a betrayer of the cause, and, 
 amongst other things, reproached him with having kept him in 
 town on account of this bill in the summer, " and thereby hav- 
 ing been the cause of the death of his son." Richmond said 
 in his life he never witnessed so painful a scene, or one which 
 excited such disgust and indignation in every member of the 
 Cabinet. Lord Grey was ready to burst into tears, said he 
 would much rather work in the coal-mines than be subject to 
 such attacks, on which the other muttered, " and you might do 
 worse," or some such words. After this Durham got up and 
 left the room. Lord Grey very soon retired too, when the 
 other ministers discussed this extraordinary scene, and consid- 
 ered what steps they ought to take. They thought at first that 
 they should require Durham to make a public apology (/. e. be- 
 fore all of them) to Lord Grey for his impertinence, which they 
 deemed due to them as he was their head, and to Althorp as 
 having occurred in his house, but as they thought it was- quite 
 certain that Durham would resign the next morning, and that 
 Lord Grey might be pained at another scene, they forbore to 
 exact this. However, Durham did not resign ; he absented 
 himself for some days from the Cabinet, at last returned as if 
 nothing had happened, and there he goes on as usual. But 
 they are so thoroughly disgusted, and resolved to oppose him, 
 '5
 
 ->J6 THE GKEVILLE MEMOIRS. [1832. 
 
 that his influence is greatly impaired. Still, his power of mis- 
 chief and annoyance is considerable. Lord Grey succumbs to 
 him, and they say in spite of his behavior is very much 
 attached to him, though so incessantly worried that his health 
 visibly surfers by his presence. There is nothing in which he 
 does not meddle. The Reform Bill he had a principal hand 
 in concocting, and he fancies himself the only man competent 
 to manage our foreign relations. Melbourne, who was pres- 
 ent at this scene, said, " If I had been Lord Grey, I would 
 have knocked him down." 
 
 1832. 
 
 February 6th. Dined yesterday with Lord Holland ; came 
 very late, and found a vacant place between Sir George Robin- 
 son and a common looking man in black. As soon as I had 
 time to look at my neighbor, I began to speculate (as one 
 usually does) as to who he might be, and as he did not for 
 some time open his lips except to eat, I settled that he was 
 some obscure man of letters or of medicine, perhaps a cholera 
 doctor. In a short time the conversation turned upon early 
 and late education, and Lord Holland said he had always re- 
 marked that self-educated men were peculiarly conceited and 
 arrogant, and apt to look down upon the generality of man- 
 kind, from their being ignorant of how much other people 
 knew ; not having been at public schools, they are uninformed 
 jf the course of general education. My neighbor observed 
 that he thought the most remarkable example of self-educa- 
 tion was that of Alfieri, who had reached the age of thirty 
 without having acquired any accomplishment save that of driv- 
 ing, and who was so ignorant of his own language that he had 
 to learn it like a child, beginning with elementary books. Lord 
 Holland quoted Julius Caesar and Scaliger as examples of late 
 education, said that the latter had been wounded, and that he 
 had been married and commenced learning Greek the same day, 
 when my neighbor remarked ' that he supposed his learning 
 Greek was not an instantaneous act like his marriage." This 
 remark, and the manner of it, gave me the notion that he was
 
 1832.] MACAULAY. 22/ 
 
 a dull fellow, for it came out in a way which bordered on the 
 ridiculous, so as to excite something like a sneer. I was a 
 little surprised to hear him continue the thread of conversa- 
 tion (from Scaliger's wound) and talk of Loyola having been 
 wounded at Pampeluna. I wondered how he happened to 
 know anything about Loyola's wound. Having thus settled 
 my opinion, I went on eating my dinner, when Auckland, who 
 was sitting opposite to me, addressed my neighbor, " Mr. 
 Macaulay, will you drink a glass of wine ? " I thought I should 
 have dropped off my chair. It was MACAULAY, the man I 
 had been so long most curious to see and to hear, whose 
 genius, eloquence, astonishing knowledge, and diversified tal- 
 ents have excited my wonder and admiration for such a length 
 of time, and here I had been sitting next to him, hearing him 
 talk, and setting him down for a dull fellow. I felt as if he 
 could have read my thoughts, and the perspiration burst from 
 every pore of my face, and yet it was impossible not to be 
 amused at the idea. It was not till Macaulay stood up that I 
 was aware of all the vulgarity and ungainliness of his ap- 
 pearance ; not a ray of intellect beams from his countenance ; 
 a lump of more ordinary clay never inclosed a powerful mind 
 and lively imagination. He had a cold and sore throat, the lat- 
 ter of which occasioned a constant contraction of the muscles 
 of the thorax, making him appear as if in momentary danger 
 of a fit. His manner struck me as not pleasing, but it was 
 not assuming, unembarrassed, yet not easy, unpolished, yet 
 not coarse ; there was no kind of usurpation of the conversa- 
 tion, no tenacity as to opinion or facts, no assumption of supe- 
 riority, but the variety and extent of his information were 
 soon apparent, for whatever subject was touched upon he 
 evinced the utmost familiarity with it ; quotation, illustration, 
 anecdote, seemed ready in h*is hands for every topic. Primo- 
 geniture in this country, in others, and particularly in ancient 
 Rome, was the principal topic, I think, but Macaulay was not 
 certain what was the law of Rome, except that when a man 
 died intestate his estate was divided between his children. 
 After dinner Talleyrand and Madame de Dino came in. He
 
 228 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1832. 
 
 was introduced to Talleyrand, who told him that he meant 
 to go to the House of Commons on Tuesday, and that he 
 hoped he would speak, " qu'il avait entendu tous les grands 
 orateurs, et il desirait a present entendre Monsieur Macaulay." 
 March 26/A. The town has been more occupied this week 
 with Dudley's extravagancies than the affairs of Europe. He 
 in fact is mad, but is to be cupped and starved and disciplined 
 sound again. It has been fine talk for the town. The public 
 curiosity and love of news is as voracious and universal as 
 the appetite of a shark, and, like it, loves best what is grossest, 
 and most disgusting ; anything relating to personal distress, 
 to crime, to passion, is greedily devoured by this monster, as 
 Cowley calls it. 
 
 " I see 
 
 The monster London laugh at me ; 
 I would at thee, too, foolish city, 
 But thy estate I pity. 
 
 Should all the wicked men from out thee go, 
 And all the fools that crowd thee so, 
 Thou, who dost thy thousands boast, 
 Would be a wilderness almost." Ode to Solitude. 
 
 But of all the examples of cant, hypocrisy, party violence, I 
 have never seen any to be compared to the Irish education 
 business ; and there was Rosslyn, an old Whig, voting 
 against ; Carnarvon stayed away, every Tory without excep- 
 tion going against the measure. As to madness, Dudley 
 has gone mad in his own house, Perceval in the House of 
 Commons, and John Montague in the Park, the two latter 
 preaching, both Irvingites and believers in "the tongues." 
 Dudley's madness took an odd turn ; he would make up all 
 his quarrels with Lady Holland, to whom he has not spoken 
 for sixteen years, and he called on her, and there were tears 
 and embraces, and God knows what. Sydney Smith told her 
 that she was bound in honor to set the quarrel up again when 
 he comes to his senses, and put things into the status quo ante 
 pacem. It would be hard upon him to find, on getting out of a 
 straight waistcoat, that he had been robbed of all his hatreds 
 and hostilities and seduced into the house of his oldest foe.
 
 1832.] " MEMOIRS" OF LOUIS XVIII. 
 
 London, May \~jth. The joy of the King at what he 
 thought to be his deliverance from the Whigs was unbounded. 
 He lost no time in putting the Duke of Wellington in pos- 
 session of everything that had taken place between him and 
 them upon the subject of reform, and with regard to the cre- 
 ation of peers, admitting that he had consented, but saying he 
 had been subjected to every species of persecution. His 
 ignorance, weakness, and levity put him in a miserable light, 
 and prove him to be one of the silliest old gentlemen in his 
 dominions ; but I believe he is mad, for yesterday he gave a 
 great dinner to the Jockey Club, at which (notwithstanding his 
 cares) he seemed in excellent spirits ; and after dinner he 
 made a number of speeches, so ridiculous and nonsensical, 
 beyond all belief but to those who heard them, rambling from 
 one subject to another, repeating the same thing over and 
 over again, and altogether such a mass of confusion, trash, 
 and imbecility as made one laugh and blush at the same 
 time. 
 
 June \st. Met the Duke of Wellington at dinner yester- 
 day, and afterwards had a long talk with him, not on politics. 
 I never see and converse with him without reproaching my- 
 self for the sort of hostility I feel and express towards his 
 political conduct, for there are a simplicity, a gayety, and nat- 
 ural urbanity and good-humor in him, which are remarkably 
 captivating in so great a man. We talked of Dumont's book 
 and Louis XVI 1 1. 's " Memoirs." I said I thought the " Me- 
 moirs " were not genuine. He said he was sure they were, 
 that they bore the strongest internal evidence of being so, 
 particularly in their accuracy as to dates, that he was the best 
 chronologist in the world, and that he knew the day of the 
 week of ever)' event of importance. He once asked the 
 Duke when he was born, and when he told him the day of the 
 month and year, he at once said it was on a Tuesday ; that he 
 (the Duke) had remembered that throughout the book the day 
 of the week was always mentioned, and many of the anec- 
 dotes he had himself heard the King tell. He then talked of 
 him, and I was surprised to hear him say that Charles X. was
 
 230 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1832. 
 
 a cleverer man, as far as knowledge of the world went, though 
 Louis XVIII. was much better informed a most curious 
 remark, considering the history and end of each. [Nothing 
 could be more mistaken and untrue than this opinion.] That 
 Louis XVIII. was always governed, and a favorite indispensa- 
 ble to him. At the congress of Vienna the Duke was de- 
 puted to speak to M. de Blacas, his then favorite, and tell 
 him that his unpopularity was so great in France that it was 
 desirable he should not return there ; Blacas replied, " You 
 don't know the King ; he must have a favorite, and he had 
 better have me than another. I shall go ; he will have an- 
 other, and you should take pains to put a gentleman in that 
 situation, for he is capable of taking the first person that finds 
 access to him and the opportunity of pleasing him." He 
 added that he should not wonder if he took Fouche*. He did 
 not take Fouche", who was not aware of the part he might 
 have played, but he took De Cazes, who governed him en- 
 tirely. This continued till the royal family determined to 
 get rid of him, and by threatening to make an esclandre and 
 leave the chateau they at last succeeded, and De Cazes was 
 sent as ambassador to London. Then the King wrote to him 
 constantly, sending him verses and literary scraps. The 
 place remained vacant till accident threw Madame du Cayla 
 in his way. 1 She was the daughter of Talon, who had been 
 concerned in the affair of the Marquis de Favras, and she 
 sent to the King to say she had some papers of her father's 
 relating to that affair, which she should like to give into his 
 own hands. He saw her and was pleased with her. The 
 royal family encouraged this new taste, in order to get rid 
 entirely of De Cazes, and even the Duchess d'Angouleme 
 promoted her success. It was the same thing to him to have 
 a woman as a man, and there was no sexual question in the 
 matter, as what he wanted was merely some one to whom he 
 could tell everything, consult with on all occasions, and with 
 whom he could bandy literary trifles. Madame du Cayla, who 
 
 1 This lady has already been noticed in a previous portion of these Memoirs, 
 when she visited England.
 
 1832.] WILLIAM IV. 231 
 
 was clever, was speedily installed, and he directly gave up De 
 Cazes. He told the Duke that he was brouille with De Ca- 
 zes, who had behaved very ill to him, but he had nothing spe- 
 cific to allege against him, except that his manner to him was 
 not what it ought to have been. The ministers paid assidu- 
 ous court to Madame du Cayla, imparted everything to her, 
 and got her to say what they wanted said to the King ; she 
 acted all the part of a mistress, except the essential, of which 
 there never was any question. She got great sums of money 
 from him and very valuable presents. 
 
 June i8/7/. The government and their people have now 
 found out what a fool the King is, and it is very amusing to 
 hear them on the subject. Formerly, when they thought they 
 had him fast, he was very honest and rather wise ; now they 
 find him rather shuffling and exceedingly silly. When Nor- 
 manby went to take leave of him on going to Jamaica, he 
 pronounced a harangue in favor of the slave trade, of which 
 he has always been a great admirer, and expressed sentiments 
 for which his subjects would tear him to pieces if they heard 
 them. It is one of the great evils of the recent convulsion 
 that the King's imbecility has been exposed to the world, and 
 in his person the regal authority has fallen into contempt ; 
 his own personal unpopularity is not of much consequence as 
 long as it does not degrade his office ; that of George IV. 
 never did, so little so that he could always as king cancel 
 the bad impressions which he made in his individual capac- 
 ity, and he frequently did so. Walter Scott is arrived here, 
 dying. A great mortality among great men ; Goethe, Pe"rier, 
 Champollion, Cuvier, Scott, Grant, Macintosh, all died within 
 a few weeks of each other. 
 
 June 2$fh. At Fern Hill all last week; a great party; 
 nothing but racing and gambling ; then to Shepperton, and 
 to town on Saturday. The event of the races was the King's 
 having his head knocked with a stone. It made very little 
 sensation on the spot, for he was not hurt, and the fellow was 
 a miserable-looking ragamuffin. It, however, produced a great 
 burst of loyalty in both houses, and their Majesties were
 
 232 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1832. 
 
 loudly cheered at Ascot. The Duke of Wellington, who had 
 been the day before mobbed in London also reaped a little 
 harvest of returning popularity from the assault, and so far 
 the outrages have done rather good than harm. 
 
 August 8t/i. I dined at Holland House yesterday ; a good 
 many people, and the Chancellor came in after dinner, looking 
 like an old clothes man and dirty as the ground. We had a 
 true Holland House dinner, two more people arriving (Mel- 
 bourne and Tom Duncombe) than there was room for, so that 
 Lady Holland had the pleasure of a couple of general squeezes, 
 and of seeing our arms prettily pinioned. Lord Holland sits 
 at table, but does not dine. He proposed to retire (not from 
 the room), but was not allowed, for that would have given us 
 all space and ease. Lord Holland told some stories of John- 
 son and Garrick which he had heard from Kemble. Johnson 
 loved to bully Garrick, from a recollection of Garrick's former 
 impertinence. When Garrick was in the zenith of his popu- 
 larity, and grown rich, and lived with the great, and while 
 Johnson was yet obscure, the Doctor used to drink tea with 
 him, and he would say, " Davy, I do not envy you your 
 money nor your fine acquaintance, but I envy you your power 
 of drinking such tea as this." " Yes," said Garrick, " it is 
 very good tea, but it is not my best, nor that which I give to 
 my Lord this and Sir somebody t'other." 
 
 Johnson liked Fox because he defended his pension, and 
 said it was only to blame in not being large enough. " Fox," 
 he said, " is a liberal man ; he would always be ' aut Ccesar 
 aut nullus;' whenever I have seen him he has been nullus." 
 Lord Holland said Fox made it a rule never to talk in John- 
 son's presence, because he knew all his conversations were 
 recorded for publication, and he did not choose to figure in 
 them. 
 
 August \ith. Dined yesterday at Holland House; the 
 Chancellor, Lord Grey, Luttrell, Palmerston, and Macaulay. 
 The Chancellor was sleepy and would not talk ; he uttered 
 nothing but yawns and grunts. Macaulay and Allen disputed 
 history, particularly the character of the Emperor Frederick
 
 1832.] P/A r CESS CHARLOTTE. 233 
 
 II., and Allen declared himself a Gueph and Macaulay a 
 Ghihelline. Macaulay is a most extraordinary man, and his 
 astonishing knowledge is every moment exhibited, but (as far 
 as I have yet seen of him, which is not sufficient to judge) 
 he is not agreeable. His propositions and his allusions are 
 rather too abrupt ; he starts topics not altogether naturally ; 
 then he has none of the graces of conversation, none of that 
 exquisite tact and refinement which are the result of a felici- 
 tous intuition or a long acquaintance with good society, or 
 more probably a mixture of both. The mighty mass of his 
 knowledge is not animated by that subtle spirit of taste and 
 discretion which alone can give it the qualities of lightness 
 and elasticity, and without which, though he may have the 
 power of instructing and astonishing, he never will attain that 
 of delighting and captivating his hearers. The dinner was 
 agreeable, and enlivened by a squabble between Lady Holland 
 and Allen, at which we were all ready to die of laughing. He 
 jeered at something she said as brutal, and chuckled at his 
 own wit. 
 
 September \th. I met at Brighton Lady Keith [Madame 
 de Flahaut], who told us a great deal about French politics, 
 which, as she is a partisan, was not worth much, but she also 
 gave us rather an amusing account of the early days of the 
 Princess Charlotte, at the time of her escape from Warwick 
 House in a hackney coach and taking refuge with her mother, 
 and of the earlier affair of Captain Hess. The former escap- 
 ade arose from her determination to break off her marriage 
 with the Prince of Orange, and that from her falling suddenly 
 in love with Prince Augustus of Prussia, and her resolving to 
 marry him and nobody else, not knowing that he was already 
 married de la main gauche in Prussia. It seems that she 
 speedily made known her sentiments to the Prince, and he 
 (notwithstanding his marriage) followed the thing up, and had 
 two interviews with her at her own house, which were con- 
 trived by Miss Knight, her governess. During one of these 
 Miss Mercer arrived, and Miss Knight told her that Prince 
 Augustus was with the Princess in her room, and what a
 
 234 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1832. 
 
 fright she (Miss Knight) was in. Miss Mercer, who evidently 
 had no mind anybody should conduct such an affair for the 
 Princess but herself, pressed Miss Knight to go and interrupt 
 them, which on her declining she did herself. The King 
 (Regent as he was then) somehow heard of these meetings, 
 and measures of coercion were threatened, and it was just 
 when an approaching visit from him had been announced to 
 the Princess that she went off. Miss Mercer was in the 
 house at the time, and the Regent, when he came, found her 
 there. He accused her of being a party to the Princess's 
 flight, but afterwards either did or pretended to believe her 
 denial, and sent her to fetch the Princess back, which after 
 many pourparlers and the intervention of the Dukes of York 
 and Sussex, Brougham, and the Bishop of Salisbury, her pre- 
 ceptor, was accomplished at two in the morning. 
 
 Hess's affair was an atrocity of the Princess of Wales. She 
 employed him to convey letters to her daughter while she 
 used to ride in Windsor Park, which he contrived to deliver, 
 and occasionally to converse with her ; and on one occasion, 
 at Kensington, the Princess of Wales brought them together 
 in her own room. The Princess afterwards wrote him some 
 letters, not containing much harm, but idle and improper. 
 When the Duke of York's affair with Mrs. Clark came out, 
 and all the correspondence, she became very much alarmed, 
 told Miss Mercer the whole story, and employed her to get 
 back her letters to Hess. She accordingly wrote to Hess 
 (who was then in Spain), but he evinced a disinclination to 
 give them up. On his return to England she saw him, and on 
 his still demurring she threatened to put the affair into the 
 Duke of York's hands, which frightened him, and then he 
 surrendered them, and signed a paper declaring he had given 
 up everything. The King afterwards heard of this affair, and 
 questioning the Princess, she told him everything. He sent 
 for Miss Mercer, and desired to see the letters, and then to 
 keep them. This she refused. This Captain Hess was a 
 short, plump, vulgar looking man, afterwards lover to the 
 Queen of Naples, mother of the present King, an amour that
 
 1832.] LORD TENTERDEN. 235 
 
 was carried on under the auspices of the Margravine at her 
 villa in the Strada Nova at Naples. It was, however, de- 
 tected, and Hess was sent away from Naples, and never al- 
 lowed to return. I remember finding him at Turin (married), 
 when he was lamenting his hard fate in being excluded from 
 that Paradiso Naples. 
 
 September 2St/i. Melbourne spoke of Brougham, who he 
 said was tossed about in perpetual caprices, that he was fanci- 
 ful and sensitive, and actuated by all sorts of littlenesses, even 
 with regard to people so insignificant that it is difficult to con- 
 ceive how he can ever think about them ; that he is conserva- 
 tive, but under the influence of his old connections, particu- 
 larly of the Saints. His friends are so often changed that it 
 is not easy to follow him in this respect. Durham used to 
 be one ; now he hates him ; he has a high opinion of Sefton ! 
 of his judgment ! What is talent, what are great abilities, 
 when one sees the gigantic intellect of Brougham so at fault ? 
 Not only does the world manage to go on when little wisdom 
 guides it, but how ill it may go on with a great deal of talent, 
 which, however, is different from wisdom. 
 
 November "jth. Tenterden was a remarkable man, and his 
 elevation did great credit to the judgment which selected him, 
 and which probably was Eldon's. He had never led a cause, 
 "but he was a profound lawyer, and appears to have had a mind 
 fraught with the spirit and genius of the law, and not nar- 
 rowed and trammeled by its subtleties and technicalities. In 
 spite of his low birth, want of oratorical power, and of per- 
 sonal dignity, he was greatly revered and -dreaded on the 
 bench. He was an austere, but not an ill-humored judge ; 
 his manners were remarkably plain and unpolished, though 
 not vulgar. He was an elegant scholar, and cultivated classi- 
 cal literature to the last. Brougham, whose congenial tastes 
 delighted in his classical attainments, used to bandy Latin 
 and Greek with him from the bar to the bench ; and he has 
 more than once told me of his sending Tenterden Greek 
 verses of John Williams's, of which the next day Tenterden 
 gave him a translation in Latin verse. He is supposed to 
 have died very rich.
 
 236 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1832 
 
 November 2oM. Dined at Holland House the day before 
 yesterday ; Lady Holland is unwell, fancies she must dine at 
 five o'clock, and exerts her power over society by making 
 everybody go out there at that hour, though nothing can be 
 more inconvenient than thus shortening the day, and nothing 
 more tiresome than such lengthening of the evening. Rogers 
 and Luttrell were staying there. The tableau of the house is 
 this : Before dinner, Lady Holland affecting illness and al- 
 most dissolution, but with a very respectable appetite, and 
 after dinner in high force and vigor ; Lord Holland, with his 
 chalkstones and unable to walk, lying on his couch in very 
 good spirits and talking away ; Luttrell and Rogers walking 
 about, ever and anon looking despairingly at the clock and 
 making short excursions from the drawing-room ; Allen, surly 
 and disputatious, poring over the newspapers, and replying in 
 monosyllables (generally negative) to whatever is said to him. 
 The grand topic of interest, far exceeding the Belgian or 
 Portuguese questions, was the illness of Lady Holland's page, 
 who has got a tumor in his thigh. This "little creature," as 
 Lady Holland calls a great hulking fellow of about twenty, is 
 called " Edgar," his real name being Tom or Jack, which he 
 changed on being elevated to his present dignity, as the popes 
 do when they are elected to the tiara. More rout is made 
 about him than other people are permitted to make about 
 their children, and the inmates of Holland House are invited 
 and compelled to go and sit with and amuse him. Such is 
 the social despotism of this strange house, which presents an 
 odd mixture of luxury and constraint, of enjoyment physical 
 and intellectual, with an alloy of small desagrements. Talley- 
 rand generally comes at ten or eleven o'clock, and stays as 
 long as they will let him. Though everybody who goes there 
 finds something to abuse or to ridicule in the mistress of the 
 house, or its ways, all continue to go ; all like it more or less ; 
 and whenever, by the death of either, it shall come to an end, 
 a vacuum will be made in society which nothing will supply. 
 It is the house of all Europe ; the world will suffer by the 
 loss ; and it may with truth be said that it will " eclipse the 
 gayety of nations."
 
 1832.] JOHN GULLY, ESQ. 237 
 
 Brighton, December I Jth. The borough elections are 
 nearly over, and have satisfied the government. They do not 
 seem to be bad on the whole ; the metropolitans have sent 
 good men enough, and there was no tumult in the town. At 
 Hertford, Buncombe was routed by Salisbury's long purse. 
 He hired such a numerous mob besides that he carried all be- 
 fore him. Some very bad characters have been returned ; 
 among the worst, Faithful here ; Gronow at Stafford ; Gully, 
 Pontefract ; Cobbett, Oldham ; though I am glad that Cobbett 
 is in Parliament. Gully's history is extraordinary. He was 
 taken out of prison twenty-five or thirty years ago by Mellish 
 to fight Pierce, surnamed the " Game Chicken," being then a 
 butcher's apprentice ; he fought him and was beaten. He 
 afterwards fought Belcher (I believe), and Gresson twice, and 
 left the prize-ring with the reputation of being the best man 
 in it. He then took to the turf, was successful, established 
 himself at Newmarket, where he kept a hell, and began a sys- 
 tem of corruption of trainers, jockeys, and boys, which put the 
 secrets of all Newmarket at his disposal, and in a few years 
 made him rich. At the same time he connected himself with 
 Mr. Watt in the north, by betting for him, and this being at 
 the time when Watt's stable was very successful, he won 
 large sums of money by his horses. Having become rich he 
 embarked in a great coal speculation, which answered beyond 
 his hopes, and his shares soon yielded immense profits. His 
 wife, who was a coarse, vulgar woman, in the mean time died, 
 and he afterwards married the daughter of an innkeeper, who 
 proved as gentlewomanlike as the other had been the reverse, 
 and who is very pretty besides. He now gradually withdrew 
 from the betting ring as a regular blackleg, still keeping 
 horses, and betting occasionally in large sums, and about a 
 year or two ago, having previously sold the Hare Park to Sir 
 Mark Wood, where he lived for two or three years, he bought 
 a property near Pontefract, and settled down (at Ackworth 
 Park) as John Gully, Esq., a gentleman of fortune. At the 
 reform dissolution he was pressed to come forward as can- 
 didate for Pontefract, but after some hesitation he declined.
 
 238 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1832. 
 
 Latterly he has taken great interest in politics, and has been 
 an ardent reformer and a liberal subscriber for the advance- 
 ment of the cause. When Parliament was about to be dis- 
 solved, he was again invited to stand for Pontefract by a nu- 
 merous deputation ; he again hesitated, but finally accepted ; 
 Lord Mexborough withdrew, and he was elected without op- 
 position. In person he is tall and finely formed, full of 
 strength and grace, with delicate hands and feet, his face 
 coarse and with a bad expression, his head set well on his 
 shoulders, and remarkably graceful and even dignified in his 
 actions and manners ; totally without education, he has strong 
 sense, discretion, reserve, and a species of good taste which 
 has prevented, in the height of his fortunes, his behavior from 
 ever transgressing the bounds of modesty and respect, and he 
 has gradually separated himself from the rabble of betters and 
 blackguards of whom he was once the most conspicuous, and 
 tacitly asserted his own independence and acquired gentility 
 without ever presuming towards those whom he has been ac- 
 customed to regard with deference. His position is now 
 more anomalous than ever, for a member of Parliament is a 
 great man, though there appear no reasons why the suffrages 
 of the blackguards of Pontefract should place him in different 
 social relations towards us than those in which we mutually 
 stood before. 
 
 Petivorth, December -zoih. Came here yesterday. It is a 
 very grand place ; house magnificent and full of fine objects, 
 both ancient and modern ; the Sir Joshuas and Vandykes 
 particularly interesting, and a great deal of all sorts that is 
 worth seeing. Lord Egremont was eighty-one the day before 
 yesterday, and is still healthy, with faculties and memory ap- 
 parently unimpaired. He has reigned here for sixty years 
 with great authority and influence. He is shrewd, eccentric, 
 and benevolent, and has always been munificent and chari- 
 table in his own way ; he patronizes the arts and fosters rising 
 genius. Painters and sculptors find employment and welcome 
 in his house ; he has built a gallery which is full of pictures 
 and statues, some of which are very fine, and the pictures
 
 1832.] LORD EGREMONT. 239 
 
 scattered through the house are interesting and curious. 
 Lord Egremont hates ceremony, and can't bear to be person- 
 ally meddled with ; he likes people to come and go as it suits 
 them, and say nothing about it, never to take leave of him. 
 The party here consists of the Cowpers, his own family, a 
 Lady E. Romney, two nieces, Mrs. Tredcroft a neighbor, 
 Ridsdale a parson, Wynne, Turner, the great landscape 
 painter, and a young artist of the name of Lucas, whom Lord 
 Egremont is bringing into notice, and who will owe his for- 
 tune (if he makes it) to him. Lord Egremont is enormously 
 rich, and lives with an abundant though not very refined hos- 
 pitality. The house wants modern comforts, and the servants 
 are rustic and uncouth ; but everything is good, and it all 
 bears an air of solid and aristocratic grandeur. The stud 
 groom told me there are three hundred horses. of different 
 sorts here. His course, however, is nearly run, and he has 
 the mortification of feeling that, though surrounded with chil- 
 dren and grandchildren, he is almost the last of his race, and 
 that his family is about to be extinct. Two old brothers and 
 one childless nephew are all that are left of the Wyndhams, 
 and the latter has been many years married. All his own chil- 
 dren are illegitimate, but he has everything in his power, 
 though nobody has any notion of the manner in which he will 
 dispose of his property. It is impossible not to reflect upon 
 the prodigious wealth of the Earls of Northumberland, and of 
 the proud Duke of Somerset who married the last heiress of 
 that house, the betrothed of three husbands. All that Lord 
 Egremont has, all the Duke of Northumberland's property, 
 and the Duke of Rutland's Cambridgeshire estate belonged to 
 them, which together is probably equivalent to between 
 2oo,ooo/. and 3oo,ooo/. a year. Banks told me that the North- 
 umberland property, when settled on Sir H. Smithson, was 
 not above I2,ooo/. a year. 1 
 
 1 The eleventh Earl of Northumberland, Joscelyn Percy, died in 1670, leaving an 
 only daughter, who married Charles Seymour, ninth Duke of Somerset. This lady 
 is described as " the betrothed of three husbands," because she was married at four- 
 teen to Henry Cavendish, son of the Duke of Newcastle, who died in the following 
 year. She was then affianced to Thomas Thynne of Longleat, who was assassinated
 
 240 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1832. 
 
 Brighton, December ^\st. Lady Howe gave me an account 
 of the offer of the chamberlainship to her husband again. 
 They added the condition that he should not oppose govern- 
 ment, but was not to be obliged to support them. This he 
 refused, and he regarded the proposal as an insult ; so the 
 Queen was not conciliated the more. She likewise told me 
 that the cause of her former wrath when he was dismissed 
 was that neither the King nor Lord Grey told her of it, and 
 that if they had she would have consented to the sacrifice at 
 once with a good grace ; but in the way it was done she 
 thought herself grossly ill used. It is impossible to ascertain 
 the exact nature of this connection. Howe conducts himself 
 towards her like a young ardent lover ; he never is out of the 
 Pavilion, dines there almost every day, or goes every evening, 
 rides with her, never quitting her side, and never takes his 
 eyes off her. She does nothing, but she admits his atten- 
 tions and acquiesces in his devotion ; at the same time there 
 is not the smallest evidence that she treats him as a lover. 
 If she did it would be soon known, for she is surrounded by 
 enemies. All the Fitzclarences dislike her, and treat her 
 more or less disrespectfully. She is aware of it, but takes no 
 notice. She is very civil and good-humored to them all ; and 
 and as long as they keep within the bounds of decency, and 
 do not break out into actual impertinence, she probably will 
 continue so. 
 
 Two nights ago there was a great assembly after a dinner for 
 
 in 1682 ; and at last married to the Duke of Somerset. The eldest son of this mar- 
 riage, Algernon Seymour, who succeeded to the dukedom of Somerset in 1748, was 
 created Earl of Northumberland on the 2d of October, 1749, and Earl of Egremont 
 on the following day, with remainder (as regards the latter title) to his nephew Sir 
 Charles Wyndham, who succeeded him in February, 1750. The earldom of North- 
 umberland passed at the same time to Sir Hugh Smithson, son-in-law of Duke Al- 
 gernon, who was created Duke of Northumberland in 1766. The titles and the vast 
 property of the Duke of Somerset, Earl of Northumberland, thus came to be 
 divided. 
 
 George O'Brien Wyndham, third Earl of Egremont, to whom Mr. Greville paid 
 this visit, was born on the iSth of December, 1751. He was therefore eighty-two 
 years old at this time; but he lived five years longer, and died in 1837, famous and 
 beloved for his splendid hospitality and for his liberal and judicious patronage of the 
 arts, and likewise of the turf.
 
 I833-] LORD HOWE. 24! 
 
 the reception of the Turkish Ambassador, Namik Pacha. He 
 was brought down by Palmerston and introduced before din- 
 ner to the King and Queen. He is twenty-eight years old, 
 speaks French well, and has good manners ; his dress very 
 simple a red cap, black vest, trousers and boots, a gold 
 chain and medal round his neck. He did not take out any 
 lady to dinner, but was placed next the Queen. After dinner 
 the King made him a ridiculous speech, with abundant flour- 
 ishes about the Sultan and his friendship for him, which is 
 the more droll from his having been high admiral at the 
 time of the battle of Navarino, to which the Pacha replied 
 in a sonorous voice. He admired everything, and conversed 
 with great ease. All the stupid, vulgar Englishwomen fol- 
 lowed him about as a lion with offensive curiosity. 
 
 1833- 
 
 January ^d. Lady Howe begged her husband to show 
 me the correspondence between him and Sir Herbert Taylor 
 about the chamberlainship. It is long and confused ; Tay- 
 lor's first letter, in my opinion, very impertinent, for it reads 
 him a pretty severe lecture about his behavior when he held 
 the office before. Howe is a foolish man, but in this business 
 he acted well enough, better than might have been expected. 
 Taylor, by the King's desire, proposed to him to resume the 
 office : and after some caviling he agreed to do so with lib- 
 erty to vote as he pleased, but promising not to be violent. 
 So stood the matter on the gth of September. He heard 
 nothing more of it till the 5th of November, when young 
 Hudson 1 wrote by the King's orders to know definitely if he 
 meant to take it, but that if he did he must be "neutral." 
 Howe wrote back word that on such terms he declined it. I 
 told him my opinion of the whole business, and added my 
 strenuous advice that he should immediately prevail on the 
 
 1 " Young Hudson " was the page of honor who was sent to Rome in the follow- 
 ing year to fetch Sir Robert Peel, when, as Mr. Disraeli expressed it, " the hurried 
 Hudson rushed into the chambers of his Vatican." He grew up to be a very able 
 and distinguished diplomatist, Sir James Hudson, G. C. B., who rendered great 
 services to the cause of Italian independence. , 
 
 16
 
 242 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1833. 
 
 Queen to appoint somebody else. I could not tell him all 
 that people said, but I urged it as strongly as I could, hinting 
 that there were very urgent reasons for so doing. He did 
 not relish this advice at all. owned that he clung tenaciously 
 to the office, liked everything about it, and longed to avail 
 himself of some change of circumstances to return ; and 
 thnt though he was no longer her officer, he had ever since 
 clone all the business, and in fact was, without the name, as 
 much her chamberlain as ever. Lady Howe, who is vexed 
 to death at the whole thing, was enchanted at my advice, and 
 vehemently urged him to adopt it. After he went away she 
 told me how glad she was at what I had said, and asked me 
 if people did not say and believe everything of Howe's con- 
 nection with the Queen, which I told her they did. I must 
 say that what passed is enough to satisfy me that there is what 
 is called " nothing in it" but the folly and vanity of being the 
 confidential officer and councilor of this hideous Queen, for 
 whom he has worked himself up into a sort of chivalrous de- 
 votion. Yesterday Howe spoke to the Queen about it, and 
 proposed to speak to the King ; the Queen (he says) would 
 not hear of it, and forbade his speaking to the King. To-day 
 he is gone away, and I don't know what he settled, probably 
 nothing. 
 
 London, January nth. Came to town with Alvanley the 
 day before yesterday. Howe plucked up courage, spoke to 
 the King and Queen, and settled Denbigh's appointment, 1 
 though not without resistance on the part of their Majesties. 
 Lord Grey came down, and was very well received by both. 
 At the commerce table the King sat by him, and was full of 
 jokes ; called him continually " Lord Howe," to the great 
 amusement of the by-standers and of Lord Grey himself. 
 Munster came down and was reconciled, condescending 
 moyennant a douceur of 2,5007. to accept the constableship of 
 the Round Tower. The stories of the King are uncommonly 
 
 1 William Basil Percy, seventh Earl of Denbigh, was appointed chamberlain to 
 Queen Adelaide at this time, and remained in the service of her Majesty a most 
 excellent and devoted servant to the close of her life.
 
 1833-] TALLEYRAND. 243 
 
 ridiculous. He told Madame de Ludolf, who had been am- 
 bassadress at Constantinople, that he desired she would rec- 
 ommend Lady Ponsonby to all her friends there, and she 
 might tell them she was the daughter of one of his late 
 brother's sultanas (Lady Jersey). His Majesty insisted on 
 Lord Stafford's taking the title of Sutherland, and ordered 
 Gower to send him an express to say so. One day at dinner 
 he asked the Duke of Devonshire " where he meant to be 
 buried!" 
 
 Jamtary I2d. Dined with Talleyrand the day before yes- 
 terday. Nobody there but his attache's. After dinner he told 
 me about his first residence in England, and his acquaintance 
 with Fox and Pitt. He always talks in a kind of affectionate 
 tone about the former, and is now meditating a visit to Mrs. 
 Fox at St. Anne's Hill, where he may see her surrounded 
 with the busts, pictures, and recollections of her husband. 
 He delights to dwell on the simplicity, gayety, childishness, 
 and profoundness of Fox. I asked him if he had ever known 
 Pitt. He said that Pitt came to Rheims to learn French, and 
 he was there at the same time on a visit to the Archbishop, 
 his uncle (whom I remember at Hartwell, a very old prelate 
 with the tic-doloureux), and that he and Pitt lived together for 
 nearly six weeks, reciprocally teaching each other French and 
 English. After Chauvelin had superseded him, and that he 
 and Chauvelin had disagreed, he went to live near Epsom (at 
 Juniper Hall) with Madame de Stae'l ; afterwards they came to 
 London, and in the mean time Pitt had got into the hands of 
 the emigre's, who persuaded him to send Talleyrand away, and 
 accordingly he received orders to quit England in twenty-four 
 hours. He embarked on board a vessel for America, but was 
 detained in the river off Greenwich. Dundas sent to him, 
 and asked him to come and stay with him while the ship was 
 detained, but he said he would not set his foot on English 
 ground again, and remained three weeks on board the ship in 
 the river. It is strange to hear M. de Talleyrand talk at 
 seventy-eight. He opens the stores of his memory and pours 
 forth a stream on any subject connected with his past life.
 
 244 THE GREVfLLE MEMOIRS. (1833. 
 
 Nothing seems to have escaped from that great treasury of 
 by-gone events. 
 
 [Mr. Greville had paid a visit with his father to the little 
 court of Louis XVIII. at Hartwell about two years before the 
 Restoration, when he was eighteen years of age. His narra- 
 tive of this visit has been printed in the fifth volume of the 
 " Miscellany of the Philobiblon Society," but it may not be 
 inappropriately inserted here.] 
 
 A VISIT TO HARTWELL. 
 
 April 14, 1814. 
 
 I have often determined to commit to paper as much as I 
 can remember of my visit to Hartwell ; and, as the King is 
 about to ascend the throne of his ancestors, it is not uninter- 
 esting to recall to mind the particulars of a visit paid to him 
 while in exile and poverty. 
 
 About two years ago my father and I went to Hartwell by 
 invitation of the King. We dressed at Aylesbury, and pro- 
 ceeded to Hartwell in the afternoon. We had previously 
 taken a walk in the environs of the town, and had met the 
 Duchesse d'Angouleme on horseback, accompanied by a Mad- 
 ame Choisi. At five o'clock we set out to Hartwell. The 
 house is large, but in a dreary, disagreeable situation. The 
 King had completely altered the interior, having subdivided 
 almost all the apartments in order to lodge a greater number of 
 people. There were numerous outhouses, in some of which 
 small shops had been established by the servants, interspersed 
 with gardens, so that the place resembled a little town. 
 
 Upon entering the house we were conducted by the Due de 
 Grammont into the King's private apartment. He received 
 us most graciously and shook hands with both of us. This 
 apartment was exceedingly small, hardly larger than a closet, 
 and I remarked pictures of the late King and Queen, Madame 
 Elizabeth, and the Dauphin, Louis XVII., hanging on the 
 walls. The King had a manner of swinging his body back- 
 wards and forwards, which caused the most unpleasant sensa-
 
 1833.1 LOUIS XVIII. 245 
 
 tions in that small room, and made my father feel something 
 like being sea-sick. The room was just like a cabin, and the 
 motions of his Majesty exactly resembled the heaving of a 
 ship. After our audience with the King we were taken to the 
 salon, a large room with a billiard table at one end. Here 
 the party assembled before dinner to all of whom we were 
 presented the Duchesse d'Angouleme, Monsieur the Due 
 d'Angouleme, the Due de Berri, the Prince and Princess de 
 Conde" (ci-devant Madame de Monaco), and a vast number of 
 dues, etc. ; Madame la Duchesse de Serron (a little old dame 
 (fhonneur to Madame d'Angouleme), the Due de Lorges, the 
 Due d'Auray, the Archeveque de Rheims (an infirm old prel- 
 ate, tortured with the tic-doloureux). and many others whose 
 names I cannot remember. At a little after six dinner was 
 announced, when we went into the next room, the King walk- 
 ing out first. The dinner was extremely plain, consisting of 
 very few dishes, and no wines except port and sherry. His 
 Majesty did the honors himself, and was very civil and agree- 
 able. We were a very short time at table, and the ladies and 
 gentlemen all got up together. Each of the ladies folded up 
 her napkin, tied it round with a bit of ribbon, and carried it 
 away. After dinner we returned to the drawing-room and 
 drank coffee. The whole party remained in conversation 
 about a quarter of an hour, when the King retired to his 
 closet, upon which all repaired to their separate apartments. 
 Whenever the King came in or went out of the room, Madame 
 d'Angouleme made him a low courtesy, which he returned by 
 bowing and kissing his hand. This little ceremony never 
 failed to take place. After the party had separated we were 
 taken to the Due de Grammont's apartments, where we drank 
 tea. After remaining there about three quarters of an hour 
 we went to the apartment of Madame d'Angouleme, where a 
 great part of the company were assembled, and where we 
 stayed about a quarter of an hour. After this we descended 
 again to the drawing-room, where several card tables were 
 laid out. The King played at whist with the Prince and 
 Princess de Conde" and my father. His Majesty settled the
 
 246 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1833. 
 
 points of the game at " le quart (fun sheling." The rest of 
 the party played at billiards or ombre. The King was so 
 civil as to invite us to sleep there instead of returning to the 
 inn at Aylesbury. When he invited us he said, " Je crains 
 que i'ous serez tres-mal logds, mats on donne ce qu'on peut." 
 Soon after eleven the King retired, when we separated for the 
 night. We were certainly ' tres-mal loges" In the morning 
 when I got out of bed, I was alarmed by the appearance of an 
 old woman on the leads before my window, who was hanging 
 linen to dry. I was forced to retreat hastily to bed, not to 
 shock the old lady's modesty. At ten the next morning we 
 breakfasted, and at eleven we took leave of the King (who 
 always went to Mass at that hour) and returned to London- 
 We saw the whole place before we came away ; and they cer- 
 tainly had shown great ingenuity in contriving to lodge such 
 a number of people in and about the house it was exactly 
 like a small rising colony. We were very much pleased with 
 our expedition; and were invited to return whenever we could 
 make it convenient. 
 
 January 24th. Dined with Talleyrand yesterday ; Pozzo, 
 who said little and seemed low ; Talleyrand talked after din- 
 ner, said that Cardinal Fleury was one of the greatest min- 
 isters who ever governed France, and that justice had never 
 been done him ; he had maintained peace for twenty years, 
 and acquired Lorraine for France. He said this a piopos of 
 the library he formed or left, or whatever he did in that line, 
 at Paris. He told me he goes very often to the British Mu- 
 seum, and has lately made them a present of a book. 
 
 March J^th. Sir Thomas Hardy told my brother he 
 tho'ight the King would certainly go mad ; he was so excit- 
 able, loathing his ministers, particularly Graham, and dying 
 to go to war. He has some of the cunning of madmen, who 
 fawn upon their keepers when looked at by them and grin 
 at them and shake their fists when their backs are turned ; 
 so he is extravagantly civil when his ministers are with him 
 and exhibits every mark of aversion when they are away.
 
 1833-1 TALLEYRAND. 
 
 June 26th. I have got from Sir Henry Lushington Monk 
 Lewis's journals and his two voyages to the West Indies (one 
 of which I read at Naples), with liberty to publish them, 
 which I mean to do if I can get money enough for him. He 
 says Murray offered him 5OO/. for the manuscripts some 
 years ago. I doubt getting so much now, but they are un- 
 commonly amusing, and it is the right moment for publishing 
 them now that the people are full of interest about the West 
 India question. I was very well amused last week at the 
 bazaar in Hanover Square, when a sale was held on four suc- 
 cessive days by the fine ladies for the benefit of the foreigners 
 in distress. It was like a masquerade without masks, for 
 everybody men, women, and children roved about where 
 they would, everybody talking to everybody, and vast famil- 
 iarity established between perfect strangers under the guise 
 of barter. The Queen's stall was held by Ladies Howe and 
 Denbigh, with her three prettiest maids of honor, Miss 
 Bagot dressed like a soubrette and looking like an angel. 
 They sold all sorts of trash at enormous prices, and made, I 
 believe, four or five thousand pounds. 
 
 June 2%(h. I sat by Talleyrand at dinner the day before 
 yesterday, who told me a good deal about Mirabeau, but as 
 he had a bad cold, in addition to his usual mode of pumping 
 up his words from the bottomest pit of his stomach, it was 
 next to impossible to understand him. He said Mirabeau 
 was really intimate with three people only, himself, Nar- 
 bonne, and Lauzun that Auguste d'Aremberg was the ne- 
 gotiator of the court and medium of its communications with 
 Mirabeau ; that he had found (during the provisional govern- 
 ment) a receipt of Mirabeau's for a million, which he had 
 given to Louis XVIII. 
 
 June 2C)//i. I am going, if not too lazy, to note down the 
 everyday nothings of my life, and see what it looks like. 
 
 We dined yesterday at Greenwich, the dinner given by 
 Sefton, who took the whole party in his omnibus, and his 
 great open carriage ; Talleyrand, Madame de Dino, Standish, 
 Neumann, and the Molyneux family ; dined in a room called
 
 248 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1833. 
 
 " the Apollo " at the Crown and Sceptre. I thought we should 
 never get Talleyrand up two narrow perpendicular staircases, 
 but he sidles and wriggles himself somehow into every place 
 he pleases. A capital dinner, tolerably pleasant, and a divine 
 evening. Went afterwards to the " Travellers," and played at 
 whist, and read the new edition of " Horace Walpole's Letters 
 to Sir Horace Mann." There is something I don't like in 
 his style ; his letters don't amuse me so much as they ought 
 to do. 
 
 A letter this morning from Sir Henry Lushington about 
 Monk Lewis. He is rather averse to a biographical sketch, 
 because he thinks a true account of his life and character 
 would not do him credit, and adds a sketch of the latter, which 
 is not flattering. Lord Melbourne told me the other day a 
 queer trait of Lewis. He had a long standing quarrel with 
 Lushington. Having occasion to go to Naples, he wrote be- 
 forehand to him, to say that their quarrel had better be sus- 
 pended,-ac&& he went and lived with him and his sister (Lady L.) 
 in perfect cordiality during his stay. When he departed he 
 wrote to Lushington to say that now they should resume their 
 quarrel, and put matters in the " status quo ante pacem" and 
 accordingly he did resume it, with rather more acharnement 
 than before. 
 
 July ^th. At court yesterday, and council for a foolish 
 business. The King has been (not unnaturally) disgusted at 
 the Duchess of Kent's progresses with her daughter through 
 the kingdom, and amongst the rest with her sailings at the Isle 
 of Wight, and the continual popping in the shape of salutes 
 to her Royal Highness. He did not choose that this latter 
 practice should go'on, and he signified his pleasure to Sir 
 James Graham and Lord Hill, for salutes are matter of general 
 order, both to army and navy. They (and Lord Grey) thought 
 it better to make no order on the subject, and they opened a 
 negotiation with the Duchess of Kent, to induce her of her 
 own accord to waive the salutes, and when she went to the Isle 
 of Wight to send word that as she was sailing about for her 
 amusement she had rather they did not salute her whenever
 
 I833-] LORD DOYER. 249 
 
 she appeared. The negotiation failed, for the Duchess insisted 
 upon her right to be saluted, and would not give it up. Kemp 
 told me he had heard that Conroy (who is a ridiculous fellow, 
 a compound of " great hussy '' and the Chamberlain of the 
 Princess of Navarre 1 ) had said, "that as her Royal High- 
 ness's confidential adviser, he could not recommend her to 
 give way on this point." As she declined to accede to the 
 proposals, nothing remained but to alter the regulations, and ac- 
 cordingly yesterday, by an order in council, the King changed 
 them, and from this time the royal standard is only to be 
 saluted when the King or the Queen are on board. 
 
 Friday, July 12th. Went to Newmarket on Sunday, came 
 back yesterday, got back at half-past nine, went to Crockford's, 
 and heard on the steps of the house that poor Dover had died 
 that morning. The accounts I had received at Newmarket 
 confirmed my previous impression that there was no hope ; 
 and, indeed, the sanguine expectations of his family are only to 
 be accounted for by that disposition in the human mind to 
 look at the most favorable side, and to cling with pertinacity 
 to hope when reason bids us despair. There has seldom been 
 destroyed a fairer scene of happiness and domestic prosperity 
 than by this event. He dies in the flower of his age, sur- 
 rounded with all the elements of happiness, and with no draw- 
 back but that of weak health, which until within the last few 
 months was not sufficiently important to counterbalance the 
 good, and only amounted to feebleness and delicacy of con- 
 stitution ; and it is the breaking up of a house replete with 
 social enjoyment, six or seven children deprived of their father, 
 and a young wife and his old father overwhelmed with a grief 
 which the former may, but the latter never can get over, for to 
 him time sufficient cannot in the course of nature be allotted. 
 Few men could be more generally regretted than Lord Dover 
 will be by an immense circle of connections and friends for his 
 really amiable and endearing qualities, by the world at large for 
 the serious loss which society sustains, and the disappointment 
 of the expectations of what he one day might have been. He 
 
 1 See Sir C. Hanbury WUliams's poems.
 
 250 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. 11833. 
 
 occupied as large a space in society as his talents (which were 
 by no means first-rate) permitted ; but he was clever, lively, 
 agreeable, good-tempered, good-natured, hospitable, liberal 
 and rich, a zealous friend, an eager political partisan, full of 
 activity and vivacity, enjoying life, and anxious that the circle 
 of his enjoyment should be widely extended. George Agar 
 Ellis was the only son of Lord Clifden, and obtained early 
 the reputation of being a prodigy of youthful talent and in- 
 formation. He was quick, lively, and had a very retentive 
 memory, and having entered the world with this reputation, and 
 his great expectations besides, he speedily became one of the 
 most conspicuous youths of the day. Having imbibed a great 
 admiration for Lord Orford (Horace Walpole), he evinced a 
 disposition to make him his model, and took pains to store 
 his mind with that sort of light miscellaneous literature in 
 which Lord Orford delighted. He got into the House of Com- 
 mons, but never was able to speak, never attempted to say 
 more than a few words, and from the beginning gave up all 
 idea of oratorical distinction. After running about the world 
 for a few years he resolved to marry, and as his heart had 
 nothing to do with this determination, he pitched upon a 
 daughter of the Duke of Beaufort's, who he thought would 
 suit his purpose, and confer upon him a very agreeable family 
 connection. Being on a tour in the North, he intended to 
 finish it at Badminton, and there to propose to Lady Georgiana 
 Somerset, with full assurance that he should not be rejected ; 
 but having stopped for a few days at Lord Carlisle's at Castle 
 Howard, he there found a girl who spared him the trouble of 
 going any farther, and at the expiration of three or four days 
 he proposed in form to Lord Morpeth's second danghter, 
 Georgiana Howard, who, not less surprised than pleased and 
 proud at the conquest she found she had so unconsciously 
 made, immediately accepted him. There never was a less 
 romantic attachment or more business-like engagement, nor 
 was there ever a more fortunate choice or a happier union. 
 Mild, gentle, and amiable, full of devotion to, and admiration 
 of her husband, her soft and feminine qualities were harmoni-
 
 1833.] LORD DOVER. 25 I 
 
 ously blended with his vivacity and animal spirits, and pro- 
 duced together results not more felicitous for themselves than 
 agreeable to all who belonged to their society. Soon after 
 his marriage, Ellis, who had never been vicious or profligate, 
 but who was free from anything like severity or austerity, 
 began to show symptoms of a devout propensity, and not con- 
 tented with an ordinary discharge of religious duties, he read 
 tracts and sermons, frequented churches and preachings, gave 
 up driving on Sundays, and appeared in considerable danger 
 of falling into the gulf of Methodism ; but this turn did not 
 last long, and whatever induced him to take it up, he appar- 
 ently became bored with his self-imposed restrictions, and 
 after a little while he threw off his short-lived sanctity, and 
 resumed his worldly habits and irreverent language, for he was 
 always a loose talker. Active and ambitious in his pursuits, 
 and magnificent in his tastes, he devoted himself to literature, 
 politics, and society ; to the two first with greater success 
 than would be expected of a man whose talents for composi- 
 tion were below mediocrity, and for public speaking none at 
 all. He became the patron of various literary institutions and 
 undertakings connected with the arts, he took the chair at 
 public meetings for literary or scientific purposes, he read a 
 good deal and wrote a little. The only work which he put 
 forth of any consequence was "The Life of Frederick II.," 
 which contained scarcely any original matter, and was re- 
 markably barren of original ideas ; but as it was a compilation 
 from several very amusing writers, was not devoid of entertain- 
 ment. 1 Though unable to speak in Parliament, he entered 
 warmly into politics, formed several political intimacies, espe- 
 cially with the Chancellor (Brougham), and undertook much of 
 the minor government work of keeping proxies, making houses 
 (in the House of Lords), and managing the local details of the 
 House itself. But however contracted his sphere both in lit- 
 erature and politics, in society his merits were conspicuous 
 
 1 Lord Dover's volume on the Man in the Iron Mask deserves not to be al- 
 together forgotten, though more recent researches have proved that his theory identi- 
 fying the " Iron Mask" with Mathioli, the captured agent of the Duke of Parma, 
 cannot be supported.
 
 252 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1833. 
 
 and his success unquestionable. Without a strong under- 
 standing, destitute of fancy and imagination, and with neither 
 eloquence nor wit, he was a remarkably agreeable man. He 
 was hospitable, courteous, and cordial ; he collected about 
 him the most distinguished persons in every rank and con- 
 dition of life. He had a constant flow of animal spirits, much 
 miscellaneous information, an excellent memory, a great en- 
 joyment of fun and humor, a refined taste and perfect good 
 breeding. But his more solid merit was the thorough good- 
 ness of his heart, and the strong and durable nature of his 
 friendships and early attachments. To the friends of his 
 youth he was bound to the last moment of his life with un- 
 remitting kindness and never-cooling affection ; no greater 
 connections or more ambitious interests canceled those early 
 ties, and though he was not unnaturally dazzled and flattered 
 by the later intimacies he contracted, this never for a moment 
 made him forgetful of or indifferent to his first and less dis- 
 tinguished friends. 
 
 July I2t/t. I have concluded a bargain with Murray for 
 Lewis's journal and sold it him for 400 guineas, the MSS. to 
 be returned to Lushington, and fifteen copies for him, and 
 five for me, gratis. 
 
 July \$th. I met the Duke in the evening at the Duch- 
 ess of Cannizzaro's ; talked of Napier's affair, at which he was 
 extremely amused, though he thinks it a very bad thing, and 
 not the least bad part of it that Napier should be lost to the 
 service, so distinguished as he is. It was he who in 1803 (I 
 believe) was the cause of the capture of a French squadron 
 by Sir Alexander Cochrane. The English fell in with and 
 cleared the French fleet, but Napier in a sloop outsailed the 
 rest, and firing upon the stern of the French Admiral's flag- 
 ship, so damaged her (contriving by skillful evolutions to avoid 
 being hurt himself) that the rest of the ships were obliged to 
 haul to, to save the Admiral's ship, which gave time to the 
 British squadron to come up, when they took four out of the 
 five sail. The Whigs all talk of this action as decisive of 
 the Portuguese contest ; the Duke says it is impossible to
 
 1833-1 THE BONAPARTES. 
 
 say what the moral effect may be, but in a military point of 
 view it will not have much influence upon it. Lucien Bona- 
 parte was there, and was introduced to the Duke. He laughed 
 and said, " He shook hands with me, and we were as intimate 
 as if we had known each other all our lives ! " He said he 
 had likewise called on Joseph, who had called on" him, but 
 they had never met : he added that some civilities had passed 
 .between them in Spain. Before the battle of Salamanca he 
 had regularly intercepted the French correspondence, and as 
 one of the King's daughters was ill at Paris, and daily intelli- 
 gence came of her health, he always sent it to him. He did 
 not forward the letters, because they contained other matters, 
 but he sent a flag every day to the outposts, who said, " Al- 
 lez dire au Roi que sa fille se porte mieux" or as it might be. 
 There was Lucien running down-stairs to look for his car- 
 riage, one brother of Napoleon who refused to be a king, and 
 another who was king of Naples, and afterwards king of 
 Spain, both living as private gentlemen in England ! 
 
 July 2$th-26th. I dined the day before yesterday with 
 old Lady Cork, to meet the Bonapartes. There were Joseph, 
 Lucien, Lucien's daughter, the widow of Louis Bonaparte, 
 Hortense's son, 1 the Dudley Stuarts, Belhavens, Rogers, 
 Lady Clarendon, and Lady Davy and myself ; not very amus- 
 ing, but curious to see these two men, one of whom would 
 not be a king, when he might have chosen almost any crown 
 he pleased (conceive, for instance, having refused the king- 
 dom of Naples), and the other, who was first King of Naples 
 and then King of Spain, commanded armies, and had the 
 honor of being defeated at Vittoria by the Duke of Welling- 
 ton. There they sat, these brothers of Napoleon, who once 
 trampled upon all Europe, and at whose feet the potentates 
 of the earth bowed, two simple, plain-looking, civil, courteous, 
 smiling gentlemen. They say Lucien is a very agreeable 
 man, Joseph nothing. Joseph is a caricature of Napoleon in 
 his latter days, at least so I guess from the pictures. He is 
 taller, stouter, with the same sort of face, but without the ex- 
 
 1 This must have been the Emperor Napoleon III.
 
 254 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1833. 
 
 pression, and particularly without the eagle eye. Lucien looked 
 as if he had once been like him, that is, his face in shape 
 is like the pictures of Napoleon when he was thin and young, 
 but Lucien is a very large, tall man. They talked little, but 
 stayed on in the evening, when there was a party, and re- 
 ceived very civilly all the people who were presented to them. 
 There was not the sJightest affectation of royalty in either. 
 Lucien, indeed, had no occasion for any, but a man who had 
 ruled over two kingdoms might be excused for betraying 
 something of his former condition, but, on the contrary, every- 
 thing regal that he ever had about him seemed to have been 
 merged in his American citizenship, and he looked more like 
 a Yankee cultivator than a king of Spain and the Indies. 
 Though there was nothing to see in Joseph, who is, I believe, 
 a very mediocre personage, I could not help gazing at him, 
 and running over ih my mind the strange events in which he 
 had been concerned in the course of his life, and regarding 
 him as a curiosity, and probably as the most extraordinary 
 living instance of the freaks of fortune and instability of 
 human grandeur. 
 
 August 2oM. To Stoke on Saturday with Creevey and 
 Lemarchant, the Chancellor's secretary. The Chancellor and 
 others of the ministry were to have come, but they all dined 
 at Blackwall. Brougham, Plunket, and John Russell came 
 the next day. Brougham is not so talkative as he was ; his 
 dignities, his labors, and the various cares of his situation 
 have dashed his gayety, and pressed down his once elastic 
 spirits ; however, he was not otherwise than cheerful and 
 lively. Plunket I never met before, he was pretty much at his 
 ease, and talked sufficiently without exhibiting anything re- 
 markable. Lemarchant is a clever, industrious fellow, whom 
 I remember at Eton. The Chancellor's secretaryship must 
 be no sinecure, and he has particularly distinguished himself 
 by his reports of the debates in the House of Commons. He 
 goes there every night, and forwards to the Chancellor from 
 time to time an account of the debate, and the manner of it, 
 very well executed indeed. He talked to me of Brougham's
 
 1833-] LORD SUGDEN. 255 
 
 labors and their intensity, which put me in mind of his gas- 
 conading to Sefton a year or two ago about his idleness, and 
 finding the great seal a mere plaything ; Lemarchant said 
 that by severe and constant application he had made himself 
 very tolerably acquainted with equity law, and very exten- 
 sively with cases. I find from Sefton that he means to pro- 
 pose next year that his salary should be reduced to 8,ooo/. a 
 year, and that the new equity judges should be paid out of 
 what he now has. I believe he is liberal about money, and 
 not careless, but I have some doubts whether this project 
 will be executed. Lemarchant told me that the cause of Sug- 
 den's inveterate animosity against Brougham was this that 
 in a debate in the House of Commons, Sugden in his speech 
 took occasion to speak of Mr. Fox, and said that he had no 
 great respect for his authority, on which Brougham merely 
 said, loud enough to be heard all over the House, and in that 
 peculiar tone which strikes like a dagger, " Poor Fox." The 
 words, the tone, were electrical, everybody burst into roars of 
 laughter, Sugden was so overwhelmed that he said afterwards 
 it was with difficulty he could go on, and he vowed that he 
 never could forgive this sarcasm. 
 
 August zd. Called on Madame de Lieven yesterday, who 
 is just come back from Petersburg, rayonnante at her recep- 
 tion and treatment. The Emperor went out to sea to meet 
 her, took her into his own boat, when they landed he drove 
 her to the palace, and carried her into the Empress's room, 
 who was en chemise. She told me a comical anecdote illus- 
 trative of the good humor of the Emperor (who, she says, is 
 an angel), and of the free and frank reception he gives to 
 strangers. In the midst of some splendid military fetes, 
 which terminated with a sham siege by 50,000 of his guards 
 the last day, word was brought him that two strange-looking 
 men had presented themselves at the lines, and requested to 
 be allowed to see what was going on. They said they were 
 English, had come from Scotland on purpose to see the Rus- 
 sian manoeuvres, and had started from Petersburg under the 
 direction of a laquais de place, who had conducted them to
 
 256 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1833. 
 
 where they heard the firing of the cannon. The Emperor 
 ordered them to be admitted, received them with the greatest 
 civility, and desired apartments to be prepared for them in the 
 palace (Peterhof), at the same time inviting them to dine with 
 him, and be present at a ball he gave at night. She said that 
 one was a Don Quixote sort of figure ; they called themselves 
 Johnstone. The Emperor asked her if she knew them. She 
 said no, but that there were many of that name in England. 
 There they remained, enchanted, astonished, behaving, how- 
 ever, perfectly well. After seeing all the sights, they were 
 one evening led into a great hall, where all sorts of pastimes 
 were going on, and among others a Montague Russe (of which 
 the Emperor is passionately fond). He is a very tall, powerful 
 man, and his way is to be placed at the top of the machine, 
 when a man mounts astride on his shoulders, and another on 
 his, and so on till there are fourteen ; when a signal is given, 
 with the rapidity of lightning down they go. On this occa- 
 sion the Emperor took the Johnstones on his back, and she 
 says their astonishment at the position they occupied, and at 
 the rapidity of the descent, was beyond everything amusing. 
 They were asked how they liked it, and they said they thought 
 it "very good fun," and should like to begin again. So they 
 were allowed to divert themselves in this way for an hour. 
 Bligh told her afterwards that these men returned to Peters- 
 burg their heads turned, and utterly bewildered with such an 
 unexpected reception. 
 
 In her serious talk the Princess said that the Emperor was 
 full of moderation and desire for peace, " s'il y a des orages 
 ce ne sera pas de ce cote qu'ils viendront," that he could not 
 comprehend the English Parliament, nor the sort of language 
 which was held there about him, that he was " le plus gene- 
 reux, le plus humain, le meilleur des hommes," that they be- 
 lieved all the lies which were "de'bite's sur les affaires de 
 Pologne, qui enfin est notre affaire, qu'il e*tait peu connu ici, 
 qu'elle avait vu en Russie beaucoup de respects, beaucoup 
 d'amour pour 1'Empereur, et voila tout." In short, she is re- 
 turned in a state of intoxication, and her adoration for the
 
 I833-] M. THIERS. 2$? 
 
 Emperor is only exceeded by that which she has for the Em- 
 press. 
 
 September lotk. At Gorhambury on Saturday till Mon- 
 day. Dined on Friday with Talleyrand, a great dinner to M. 
 Thiers, the French Minister of Commerce, a little man, about 
 as tall as Shiel. and as mean and vulgar looking, wearing 
 spectacles, and with a squeaking voice. He was editor of the 
 " National," an able writer, and one of the principal instiga- 
 tors of the revolution of July. It is said that he is a man of 
 great ability and a good speaker, more in the familiar English 
 than the bombastical French style. Talleyrand has a high 
 opinion of him. He wrote a history of the revolution, which 
 he now regrets ; it is well done, but the doctrine of fatalism 
 which he puts forth in it he thinks calculated to injure his 
 reputation as a statesman. I met him again at dinner at 
 Talleyrand's yesterday with another great party, and last 
 night he started on a visit to Birmingham and Liverpool. 
 
 The young Queen of Portugal goes to Windsor to-day. 
 The King was at first very angry at her coming to England, 
 but when he found that Louis Philippe had treated her with 
 incivility, he changed his mind, and resolved to receive her 
 with great honors. He hates Louis Philippe and the French 
 with a sort of Jack Tar animosity. The other day he gave a 
 dinner to one of the regiments at Windsor, and as usual he 
 made a parcel of foolish speeches, in one of which, after 
 descanting upon their exploits in Spain against the French, he 
 went on : " Talking of France I must say that whether at 
 peace or at war with that country, I shall always consider her 
 as our natural enemy, and whoever may be her king or ruler, 
 I shall keep a watchful eye for the purpose of repressing her 
 ambitious encroachments." If he was not such an ass that 
 nobody does anything but laugh at what he says, this would 
 be very important. Such as he is, it is nothing. " What can 
 you expect " (as I forget who said) " from a man with a head 
 like a pineapple ? " His head is just of that shape. 
 
 London, November i^ih. Nothing written for nearly two 
 months. I remained in town till the end of September, when 
 17
 
 258 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1833. 
 
 I went to Newmarket, and afterwards to Buckanham, where I 
 met Sir Robert Peel. He is very agreeable in society, it is a 
 toss up whether he talks or not, but if he thaws, and is in good 
 humor and spirits, he is lively, entertaining, and abounding in 
 anecdotes, which he tells extremely well. I came back to 
 town on Friday last, the 8th, dined with the Poodle, and found 
 Rogers, Moore, and Westmacott (the son) ; a very agreeable 
 dinner. On Sunday dined with Rogers, Moore, Sydney 
 Smith, Macaulay. Sydney less vivacious than usual, and 
 somewhat overpowered and talked down by what Moore 
 called the "flumen sermonis " of Macaulay. Sydney calls 
 Macaulay " a book in breeches." All that this latter says, all 
 that he writes, exhibits his great powers and astonishing 
 information, but I don't think he is agreeable. It is more 
 than society requires, and not exactly of the kind ; his figure, 
 face, voice, and manner are all bad ; he astonishes and in- 
 structs, he sometimes entertains, seldom amuses, and still 
 seldomer pleases. He wants variety, elasticity, gracefulness : 
 his is a roaring torrent, and not a meandering stream of talk. 
 I believe we would all of us have been glad to exchange some 
 of his sense for some of Sydney Smith's nonsense. He told 
 me that he had read Sir Charles Grandison fifteen times ! 
 
 November i^th. Dined with Sefton yesterday ; after din- 
 ner came in the Chancellor in good humor and spirits ; talked 
 of Lord Wellesley, who, since he has been in Ireland, has 
 astonished everybody by his activity and assiduity in business. 
 He appeared, before he went in the last stage of decrepitude, 
 and they had no idea the energy was in him ; but they say he 
 is quite a new man, and it is not merely a splash, but real and 
 bond fide business that he does. The Chancellor talked over 
 some of the passages of the Queen's trial, to which he loves 
 to revert. It was about the liturgy. The negotiations which 
 had taken place at Apsley House between the Duke of Wel- 
 lington and Lord Castlereagh on one part and Brougham and 
 Denman on the other, were broken off on that point. It was 
 then agreed to refer the matter to others ; the Duke and Cas- 
 tlereagh were to meet Lord Fitzwilliam and Sefton ; a queer
 
 1833-] BROUGHAM'S OPINION. 259 
 
 choice, old Fitzwilliam a driveler, and Sefton, with all his 
 sharpness, totally unfit for the office of negotiator in a grave 
 matter. He can't be grave, life itself is to him a plaything ; 
 but the night before they were to meet, Fitzwilliam took 
 fright, and backed out. Notice was sent to the other party, 
 but they did not get it, owing to some mistake. In the morn- 
 ing Brougham came to Sefton and asked him to drive him up 
 to the Queen's house, and as they passed through Grosvenor 
 Square, to their amazement they saw Wellington and Castle- 
 reagh alighting (full dressed for the levee) at Lord Fitzwill- 
 iam's door. Sefton went into the house, and found them al- 
 ready in the dining-room, the table covered with papers, when 
 an explanation ensued, on which they had to bundle up their 
 papers again and trot off. 
 
 When the deputation from the House of Commons went up 
 with the address to the Queen, entreating her to come to 
 terms (Banks, Wortley, Acland, and Wilberforce), she had 
 got all her council assembled, and before receiving the depu- 
 tation from the Commons, she asked their advice. Brougham 
 said that she was disposed to acquiesce, but wanted them to 
 advise her to do so, and that her intention was, if they had, to 
 act on that advice, but to save her popularity by throwing the 
 odium on them, and devoting them to popular execration. 
 He therefore resolved, and his brethren likewise, to give no 
 advice at all ; and when she turned to him, and said, " What 
 do you think I ought to do ? " he replied, in a sort of speech 
 which he gave very comically, " Your Majesty is undoubtedly 
 the best judge of the answer you ought to give, and I am cer- 
 tain that your own feelings will point out to you the proper 
 course." " Well, but what is your opinion ? " " Madame, I 
 certainly have a strong opinion on the subject, but I think 
 there cannot be a shadow of doubt of what your Majesty 
 ought to do, and there can be no doubt your Majesty's ad- 
 mirable sense will suggest to you what that opinion is." 
 " Humph," said she, and flung from him ; turning to Denman, 
 "And Mr. Solicitor, what is your opinion ? " " Madam, I con- 
 cur entirely in that which has been expressed by the Atorney-
 
 260 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1833. 
 
 general ; " and so they all repeated. She was furious, and 
 being left to herself she resolved not to agree. Sefton was on 
 horseback among the crowd which was waiting impatiently to 
 hear the result of the interview and her determination. He 
 had agreed with Brougham that as soon as she had made up 
 her mind he should come to the window and make him a sign. 
 He -was to stroke his chin if she refused, and do something 
 else, I forget what, if she agreed. Accordingly arrived 
 Brougham at the window, all in gown and wig, and as soon as 
 he caught Sefton's eye began stroking his chin. This was 
 enough for Sefton, who (as he declares) immediately began 
 telling people in the crowd, who were wondering and doubt- 
 ing and hoping, that they might rely upon it she would " stand 
 by them," and not accept the terms. 
 
 A r ovember y>th. Madame de Lieven told me an anecdote 
 of Stratford Canning which highly delighted her, because it 
 justified the resistance which the court of Russia made to his 
 nomination to that embassy. The other day Dedel called on 
 Palmerston. When shown into the waiting-room, he said, 
 " Tell Lord Palmerston that the Dutch Minister will be glad 
 to see him," when a man who was there, and whom he did not 
 know, jumped up and said, "And I desire you will tell Lord 
 Palmerston that I have been waiting here these two hours, 
 and that I expect to see him before anybody else ; " and 
 then, turning to Dedel, " Sir, this is too bad ; two persons 
 have been already shown in to Lord Palmerston, both of 
 whom came after me, and I expect that you will not go in to 
 his lordship till after me." Dedel, who is the mildest and 
 civilest of men, replied, " Sir, far be it from me to dispute 
 your right, and I assure you I have no desire to go in before 
 you, but I only beg that if Lord Palmerston should send for 
 me first you will understand that I cannot help going ; " and 
 then the other, " Sir, I am Sir Stratford Canning." " And I 
 am Mr. Dedel." This extraordinary scene he told Madame 
 de Lieven, not knowing what had passed about the mission. 
 Touching that affair, there is an understanding that he shall 
 not go there, and no other ambassador is to be named till it 
 is quite convenient to Palmerston.
 
 1833.1 AT EDWARD IRVING 'S CHAPEL. 261 
 
 The day before yesterday I met Sydney Smith at dinner at 
 Poodle Byng's, when a conversation occurred which produced 
 a curious coincidence. We were talking of Vaughan the 
 minister in America, how dull he appeared, and yet how 
 smart and successful had been " The Siege of Saragossa," 
 which he published at the time of the Spanish war. Sydney 
 Smith said that the truth was he had not written a word of it, 
 and on being questioned further said that he was himself the 
 author. Vaughan, who was a friend of his, had given him the 
 materials, and he had composed the narrative. He then went 
 on to say that it was not the only instance of the kind, for 
 that the celebrated pamphlet which had been attributed to 
 Lady Canning had not been written by her, not a word of it, 
 that it had been written by Stapleton. I said that I had it in 
 my power to contradict this, for that I had been privy to the 
 composition of it, had seen the manuscript, and had at her re- 
 quest undertaken the task of revising and correcting it. Thus 
 were two mistakes accidentally cleared up, by the circum- 
 stance of the only persons who could have explained them 
 being present. 
 
 December zd. I went yesterday to Edward Irving's chapel 
 to hear him preach, and witness the exhibition of the tongues. 
 The chapel was formerly West's picture gallery, oblong, with 
 a semicircular recess at one end ; it has been fitted up with 
 galleries all round, and in the semicircle there are tiers of 
 benches, in front of which is a platform with an elevated chair 
 for Irving himself, and a sort of desk before it ; on each side 
 the chair are three arm-chairs, on which three other preachers 
 sat. The steps from the floor to the platform were occupied 
 by men (whether peculiarly favored or not I don't know), but 
 the seats behind Irving's chair are evidently appropriated to 
 the higher class of devotees, for they were the best dressed of 
 the congregation. The business was conducted with de- 
 cency, and the congregation was attentive. It began with a 
 hymn, the words given out by one of the assistant preachers, 
 and sung by the whole flock. This, which seems to be com- 
 mon to all dissenting services, is always very fine, the full
 
 262 THE GREVJLLh. MEMOIKS. 11833. 
 
 swell of human voices producing a grand effect. After this 
 Irving delivered a prayer, in a very slow drawling tone, rather 
 long, and not at all striking in point of language or thought. 
 When he had finished, one of the men sitting beside him 
 arose, read a few verses from the Bible, and discoursed 
 thereon. He was a sorry fellow, and was followed by two 
 others, not much better. After these three Spencer Perceval 
 stood up. He recited the duty to our neighbor in the cate- 
 chism, and descanted on that text in a style in all respects far 
 superior to the others. He appeared about to touch on poli- 
 tics, and (as well as I recollect) was saying, " Ye trusted 
 that your institutions were unalterable, ye believed that your 
 loyalty to your King, your respect for your nobility, your" 
 when suddenly a low moaning noise was heard, on which he 
 instantly stopped, threw his arm over his breast, and covered 
 his eyes, in an attitude of deep devotion, as if oppressed by 
 the presence of the spirit. The voice after ejaculating three 
 " Oh's," one rising above the other, in tones very musical, 
 burst into a flow of unintelligible jargon, which, whether it was 
 in English or in gibberish I could not discover. This lasted 
 five or six minutes, and as the voice was silenced, another 
 woman, in more passionate and louder tones, took it up ; this 
 last spoke in English, and words, though not sentences, were 
 distinguishable. I had a full view of her sitting exactly be- 
 hind Irving's chair. She was well dressed, spoke sitting, 
 under great apparent excitement, and screamed on till from 
 exhaustion, as it seemed, her voice gradually died away, and 
 all was still. Then Spencer Perceval, in slow and solemn 
 tones, resumed, not where he had left off, but with an exhor- 
 tation to hear the voice of the Lord which had just been ut- 
 tered to the congregation, and after a few more sentences he 
 sat down. Two more men followed him, and then Irving 
 preached. His subject was " God's love," upon which he 
 poured forth a mystical incomprehensible rhapsody, with ex- 
 traordinary vehemence of manner and power of lungs. There 
 was nothing like eloquence in his sermon, no musical periods 
 to captivate the ear, no striking illustrations to charm the
 
 I833-] RESPECT TO LORD ELDON. 263 
 
 imagination ; but there is undoubtedly something in his com- 
 manding figure and strange, wild countenance, his vehemence, 
 and above all the astonishing power of his voice, its compass, 
 intonation, and variety, which arrests attention, and gives the 
 notion of a great orator. I dare say he can speak well, but 
 to waste real eloquence on such an auditory would be like 
 throwing pearls to swine. " The bawl of Bellas " is better 
 adapted for their ears than quiet sense in simpler sounds, and 
 the principle " of/me ignotum pro magnifico" can scarcely find 
 a happier illustration than amongst a congregation whose ad- 
 miration is probably in an inverse ratio to their compre- 
 hension. 
 
 December 6th. The Vice-chancellor, Parke, Bosanquet, 
 and Erskine met yesterday to consider a judgment, and took 
 three hours to manage it ; business does not go on so quickly 
 with many judges as with one, whether it be more satisfactory 
 or not. The Chancellor, the last time we met, announced to 
 the bar (very oddly) that for the future their lordships would 
 give judgment in turn. (He had himself delivered the only 
 judgment that had been given.) The Vice-chancellor, who I 
 thought was his friend, laughed at this yesterday with me, and 
 said that he wanted to throw off from himself as much as he 
 could. I asked him (he had said something, I forget what, 
 about the Chancery Bill) what would be left for the Chancellor 
 to do when that bill was passed. He said, " Nothing ; that he 
 meant to be prime minister and chancellor, and that it was 
 what he had been driving at all along ; that the bill for regulat- 
 ing the Privy Council was only a part of his own plan, and 
 that all his schemes tended to that end." Setting political 
 bias aside, it is curious, considering his station, to hear the 
 lawyers talk of him, the contempt they universally have for 
 him professionally, how striking the contrast with the pro- 
 found respect which is paid to Lord Eldon. The other day, in 
 the action brought against the Chancellor for false imprison- 
 ment, Lord Eldon was subpoenaed, and he appeared to give 
 evidence ; when he entered the court, while he was examined, 
 and when he departed, the whole bar stood up, and the Solic-
 
 264 THE GREV1LLE MEMOIRS. [1833. 
 
 itor-general harangued him, expressed in the name of his 
 brethren the satisfaction they felt at seeing him once more 
 among them. There is something affecting in these reveren- 
 tial testimonials to a man from whom power has passed away, 
 and who is just descending into the grave, and I doubt 
 if, at the close of his career, Brougham will ever obtain the 
 same. 
 
 December tyh. Went yesterday with Frederic Elliot and 
 Luttrell to hear Fox, a celebrated Unitarian preacher, at a 
 chapel in South Place, Finsbury Square. He is very short 
 and thick, dark hair, black eyes, and a countenance intelli- 
 gent though by no means handsome ; his voice is not strong, 
 and his articulation imperfect, he cannot pronounce the s. 
 His sermon was, however, admirable, and amply repaid us 
 for the trouble of going so far. He read the whole of it, 
 the language was beautiful, the argument clear and unem- 
 barrassed, the reasoning powerful, and there were occasionally 
 passages of great eloquence. The conclusion, which was a 
 sort of invocation to the Deity, was very fine. I like the 
 simplicity of the service : hymns, a prayer, and the sermon, 
 still I think a short liturgy preferable our own, much ab- 
 breviated, would be the best. 
 
 December i%th. Went with Moore yesterday morning to 
 the State Paper Office, and introduced him to Lemon. 1 It was 
 at the new office, where the documents are in course of ar- 
 rangement, and for the future they will be accessible and use- 
 ful. John Allen told Moore the other day that he considered 
 that the history of England had never really been written, 
 so much matter was there in public and private collections, 
 illustrative of it, that had never been made use of. Lemon 
 said he could in great measure confirm that assertion, as his 
 researches had afforded him the means of throwing great 
 light upon modern history, from the time of Henry VIII. 
 
 1 Robert Lemon, Esq., F. S. A., was the deputy keeper of the state papers, 
 who rendered the greatest services in the classification of the records, which at 
 this time were but little known and had not been opened to literary investiga- 
 tion.
 
 1834-] BELVOIR CASTLE. 
 
 The fact is, that the whole thing is conventional ; people take 
 the best evidence that has been produced, and give their 
 assent to a certain series of events, until more facts and 
 better evidence supplant the old statements and establish 
 others in their place. They are now printing Irish papers of 
 the time of Henry VIII., but from the folly of Henry Hob- 
 house, who would not let the volume be indexed, it will be of 
 little service. In the evening dined with Moore at the Poo- 
 dle's. He told a good story of Sydney Smith and Leslie the 
 professor. Leslie had written upon the North Pole ; some- 
 thing he had said had been attacked in the " Edinburgh Re- 
 view " in a way that displeased him. He called on Jeffrey 
 just as he was getting on horseback, and in a great hurry. 
 Leslie began with a grave complaint on the subject, which 
 Jeffrey interrupted with " O damn the North Pole." Leslie 
 went off in high dudgeon, and soon after met Sydney, who, 
 seeing him disturbed, asked what was the matter. He told 
 him what he had been to Jeffrey about, and that he had in a 
 very unpleasant way said, " Damn the North Pole." "It was 
 very bad," said Sydney ; " but do you know, I am not sur- 
 prised at it, for I have heard him speak very disrespectfully 
 of the Equator.' 1 '' 
 
 1834. 
 
 Belvoir Castle, January Jth. After many years of delay, 
 I am here since the 3d to assist at the celebration of the 
 Duke of Rutland's birthday. The party is very large, and 
 sufficiently dull : the Duke of Wellington, Esterhazy, Ma- 
 tuscewitz, Rokeby, Miss d'Este (afterwards Lady Truro), 
 and the rest a rabble of fine people, without beauty or wit 
 among them. The place is certainly very magnificent, and 
 the position of the castle unrivaled, though the interior is 
 full of enormous faults, which are wholly irretrievable. This 
 results from the management of the alterations having been 
 intrusted to the Duchess and Sir John Thurston (the former 
 of whom had some taste but no knowledge), and they have 
 consequently made a sad mess of it. There is immense
 
 266 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. 11834. 
 
 space wasted, and with great splendor and some comfort 
 the castle has been tumbled about until they have contrived 
 to render it a very indifferent house ; no two rooms communi- 
 cating, nor even (except the drawing-room and dining-room, 
 the former of which is seldom or never inhabited) contiguous. 
 The gallery, though unfinished, is a delightful apartment, 
 and one of the most comfortable I ever saw. The outside of 
 the castle is faulty, but very grand ; so grand as to sink criti- 
 cism in admiration ; and altogether, with its terraces and 
 towers, its woods and hills, and its boundless prospect over 
 a rich and fertile country, it is a very noble possession. The 
 Duke lives here for three or four months, from the end of Oc- 
 tober till the end of February or March, on and off, and 
 the establishment is kept up with extraordinary splendor. 
 In the morning we are roused by the strains of martial music, 
 and the band (of his regiment of militia) marches round the 
 terrace, awakening or quickening the guests with lively airs. 
 All the men hunt or shoot. At dinner there is a different 
 display of plate every day, and in the evening some play at 
 whist or amuse themselves as they please, and some walk 
 about the staircases and corridors to hear the band, which 
 plays the whole evening in the hall. On the Duke's birthday 
 there was a great feast in the castle ; 200 people dined in the 
 servants' hall alone, without counting the other tables. We 
 were about forty at dinner. When the cloth was removed, 
 Esterhazy proposed his Grace's health, who has always a 
 speech prepared in which he returns thanks. This time it was 
 more simple than usual, and not at all bad. To-night there 
 is a ball for the servants, which could not take place on the 
 real birthday, as it fell on a Saturday. 
 
 January 2.6th. I left Belvoir on Friday, the loth, and 
 went to Mrs. Arkwright's, 1 at Stoke, where I found nobody 
 but her own family. I was well enough amused for two days 
 with her original conversation and her singing, and her cousin, 
 
 1 Mrs. Arkwright was a Kemble by birth, and had much of the musical and dra- 
 ma' ic genius of that gifted family. Her singing was most touching, and some of her 
 musical compositions were full of originality and expression.
 
 I834-] SIX RICHARD ARKWRIGHT. 267 
 
 Miss Twiss, who, with a face of uncommon plainness and the 
 voice of a man, is sensible and well informed. Then they 
 both liked to have me, and that is a great charm ; a little 
 agreeableness goes a great way in the Peak, and it is not diffi- 
 cult to procure a triumph to one's vanity from people who, 
 with a good deal of power of appreciation, have very little op- 
 portunity for comparison, and are therefore easily satisfied. 
 Arkwright told me that it was reported by those who were 
 better informed than himself of his father's circumstances, 
 that he is worth from seven to eight millions. His grand- 
 father began life as a barber, invented some machinery, got a 
 patent, and made a fortune. His son gave him offense by a 
 marriage which he disapproved of, and he quarreled with him, 
 but gave him a mill. Arkwright, the son, saw nothing of his 
 father for many years, but by industry and ability accumulated 
 great wealth. When Sir Richard served as sheriff, his son 
 thought it right to go out with the other gentlemen of the 
 county to meet him, and the old gentleman was struck with 
 his handsome equipage, and asked to whom it belonged. 
 Upon being informed, he sought a reconciliation with him, 
 and was astonished to find that his son was as rich as him- 
 self. From that time they continued on good terms, and at 
 his death he bequeathed him the bulk of his property. 
 
 Mrs. Arkwright told me the curious story of Sir Thomas 
 Lawrence's engagements with her two cousins, the daughters 
 of Mrs. Siddons. They were two sisters, one tall and very 
 handsome, the other little, without remarkable beauty, but 
 very clever and agreeable. He fell in love with the first, and 
 they were engaged to be married. Of course under such cir- 
 cumstances he lived constantly and freely in the house, and 
 after some time the superior intelligence of the clever sister 
 changed the current of his passion, and she supplanted the 
 handsome one in the affection of the artist. They concealed 
 the double treachery, but one day a note which was intended 
 for his new love fell into the hands of the old love, who, never 
 doubting it was for herself, opened it, and discovered the fatal 
 truth. From that time she drooped, sickened, and shortly
 
 268 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1834. 
 
 after died. On her ueath-bed she exacted a promise from her 
 sister that she would never marry Lawrence, who firmly ad- 
 hered to it. He continued his relations with her with more or 
 less intimacy up to the period of her death, the date of which 
 I do not recollect. 
 
 Burgh/ey, January 2&th. I just missed Peel, who went to 
 Belvoir yesterday. I heard wonderful things of railroads and 
 steam when I was in Staffordshire, yet by the time anybody 
 reads what I now write (if anybody ever does), how they will 
 smile perhaps at what I gape and stare at, and call wonderful, 
 with such accelerated velocity do we move on. Stephenson, 
 the great engineer, told Lichfield that he had travelled on the 
 Manchester and Liverpool railroad for many miles at the rate 
 of a mile a minute ; that his doubt was not how fast his en- 
 gines could be made to go, but at what pace it would be 
 proper to stop ; tha* he could make them travel with greater 
 speed than any bird can cleave the air, and that he had ascer- 
 tained that four hundred miles an hour was the extreme veloc- 
 ity which the human frame could endure, at which it could 
 move and exist. 
 
 February 6th. Returned to town yesterday from New- 
 market, which I took in my way from Burghley. Parliament 
 had opened the day before, with a long nothingy (a word I 
 have coined) speech from the throne, in which the most re- 
 markable points were a violent declaration against O'Connell, 
 that is, against Irish agitation, and strong expressions of 
 amity with France. It is comical to compare the language of 
 the very silly old gentleman who wears the crown, in his con- 
 vivial moments, and in the openness of his heart, with that 
 which his ministers cram into his mouth, each sentiment be- 
 ing uttered with equal energy and apparent sincerity. 
 
 February i^th. Last night at Miss Berry's met Mrs. 
 Somerville, the great mathematician. I had been reading in 
 the morning Sedgwick's sermon on education, in which he 
 talks of Whewell, Airy, and Mrs. Somerville, mentioning her 
 as one of the great luminaries of the present day. The sub- 
 ject of astronomy is so sublime that one shrinks into a sense
 
 1834-] THE LORD CHANCELLOR. 269 
 
 of nothingness in contemplating it, and can't help regarding 
 those who have mastered the mighty process and advanced 
 the limits of the science as beings of another order. I could 
 not then take my eyes off this woman, with a feeling of sur- 
 prise and something like incredulity, all involuntary and very 
 foolish ; but to see a mincing, smirking person, fan in hand, 
 gliding about the room, talking nothings and nonsense, and 
 to know that La Place was her plaything and Newton her 
 acquaintance, was too striking a contrast not to torment the 
 brain. It was Newton's mantle trimmed and flounced by 
 Maradan. 
 
 March igtk. The night before last Shiel brought on a de- 
 bate on the Turkish question, when I'almerston made a 
 wretched speech, and Peel attacked him very smartly, as it 
 is his delight to do, for he dislikes Palrrerston. Talleyrand 
 said to me last night, " Palmerston a tres-bien parle." I 
 told him everybody thought it pitiable. He certainly took care 
 to flatter France and not to offend Russia. In the Lords 
 Brougham took occasion, in replying to some question of El- 
 lenborough's, to defend himself from the charges which have 
 been brought against him of negligence and incapacity, in his 
 judicial office, and he made out a good case for himself as far 
 as industry and dispatch are concerned. Nobody ever denied 
 him the merit of the former quality. The virulent attacks of 
 the Tory press (that is, of the " Morning Post," by Praed, for 
 the " Standard " rather defends him) have overshot their mark, 
 and, though the general opinion of the bar seems to condemn 
 him as a bad chancellor, he is probably not near so bad as 
 they endeavor to make him out. A mind so vigorous as his 
 will master difficulties in a short time at which an inferior 
 capacity would in vain hammer away for years ; but his life, 
 habits, and turn of mind seem all incompatible with profound 
 law learning. He said to Sefton, after he had spoken, " They 
 had better leave me alone. I was afraid that when London- 
 derry was gone nobody would attack me, and I did not think 
 Ellenborough would have been damned fool enough." They 
 certainly can't get the best of him at the gab.
 
 270 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1834. 
 
 March zgth. The Vice-chancellor a called on me the other 
 day, and talking over the business that had been done by 
 Brougham, and the recent discussion about it, he said that he 
 had taken the trouble to examine the returns of hearings, de- 
 crees, and orders, and he found that there was scarcely a shade 
 of difference between what had been done severally by Eldon, 
 Lyndhurst, and Brougham in equal spaces of time. (Eldon 
 and Lyndhurst had the bankruptcy business besides.) This is 
 a clear case for the Chancellor, and it is only fair that it should 
 be known. His friends think him much altered in spirits and 
 appearance ; he has never shaken off his unhappiness at his 
 brother's death, to whom he seems to have been tenderly 
 attached. It is only justice to acknowledge his virtues in pri- 
 vate life, which are unquestionably conspicuous. I am con- 
 scious of having often spoken of him with asperity, and it is 
 some satisfaction to my conscience to do him this justice. 
 When the greatest (I will not say the best) men are often in- 
 fluenced by pique or passion by a hundred petty feelings which 
 their philosophy cannot silence or their temperament obeys, 
 it is no wonder that we poor wretches who are cast in less per- 
 fect moulds should be still more liable to these pernicious in- 
 fluences ; and it is only by keeping an habitual watch over our 
 own minds and thoughts, and steadily resolving never to be 
 turned from considerations of justice and truth, that we can 
 hope to walk through life with integrity and impartiality. I 
 believe what I have said of Brougham to be correct in the 
 main that he is false, tricking, ambitious, and unprincipled, 
 and as such I will show him up when I can but though I do 
 not like him and he has offended me that is, has wounded 
 my vanity (the greatest of all offenses) I only feel it the 
 more necessary on that account to be on my guard against 
 my own impressions and prejudices, and to take every oppor- 
 tunity of exhibiting the favorable side of the picture, and 
 render justice to the talents and virtues which cannot be de- 
 nied him. 
 
 April 2$d. There was quite as great a crowd assembled 
 
 1 Sir Lancelot Shadwell, Vice-chancellor of England.
 
 1834-] PECULIARITIES OF THE A'ING. 2/1 
 
 yesterday to see old Lady Hertford's funeral go by. The 
 King sent all the royal carriages, and every other carriage in 
 London was there, I believe a pompous piece of folly, and 
 the King's compliment rather a queer one, as the only ground 
 on which she could claim such an honor was that of having 
 been George IV.'s mistress. Brougham made one of his ex- 
 hibitions in the House of Lords the other night about the 
 Cambridge petition, quizzing the Duke of Gloucester with 
 mock gravity. It was very droll and very witty, I fancy, but 
 very unbecoming his station. 
 
 May l\th. The King has been exhibiting some symptoms 
 of a disordered mind, not, however, amounting to anything 
 like actual derangement, only morbid irritability and activity 
 reviewing the Guards and blowing up people at court. He 
 made the Guards, both horse and foot, perform their evolu- 
 tions before him ; he examined their barracks, clothes, arms, 
 and accoutrements, and had a musket brought to him, that he 
 might show them the way to use it in some new sort of exer- 
 cise he wanted to introduce ; in short, he gave a great deal of 
 trouble and made a fool of himself. He was very angry with 
 Lord de Saumarez for not attending Keat's funeral, and still 
 more angry because he would begin explaining and apologiz- 
 ing, first at the levee and then at the drawing-room ; and he 
 reprehended him very sharply at both places. An explanation 
 afterwards took place through Lord Camden, to whom he said 
 that he was angry because De Saumarez would prate at the 
 levee, when he told him that it was not a proper place for dis- 
 cussing the subject. 
 
 Brougham is a bad presiding judge, for he will talk so much 
 to the counsel, and being very anxious to abbreviate the busi- 
 ness, he ought to have avoided saying pungent things, which 
 elicited rejoinders and excited heat. The extreme gravity and 
 patient attention of old Eldon struck me forcibly as contrasted 
 with the air of ennui, the frequent and audible yawns, and the 
 flippant and sarcastic interruptions of the Chancellor. Weth- 
 erell made a very able speech, which he afterwards published. 
 The most striking incident occurred in an answer of Bicker-
 
 2/2 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1834. 
 
 steth's to one of the Chancellor's interruptions. He said, talk- 
 ing of degrees, " Pray, Mr. Bickersteth, what is to prevent the 
 London University granting degrees now?" to which he re- 
 plied, "The universal scorn and contempt of mankind," 
 Brougham said no more ; the effect was really fine. 
 
 May 2$d. There is a very strong impression abroad that 
 the King is cracked, and I dare say there is some truth in it. 
 He gets so very choleric, and is so indecent in his wrath. 
 Besides his squabble with old Lord de Saumarez he broke 
 out the other day at the Exhibition (Somerset House). They 
 were showing him the pictures, and Sir Martin Shee (I be- 
 lieve, but am not sure), pointing out Admiral Napier's, said, 
 " That is one of our naval heroes ; " to which his Majesty 
 was pleased to reply that if he served him right he should 
 kick him down-stairs for so terming him. But the maddest 
 thing of all is what appeared in the " Gazette " of Tuesday 
 
 the peerage conferred on . She is a disreputable, 
 
 half-mad woman ; he, perhaps, thought it fair to give her this 
 compensation for not being Queen, for he wanted to marry 
 her, and would have done so if the late King would have con- 
 sented. 
 
 On Monday last I went to Petworth, and saw the finest fete 
 that could be given. Lord Egremont has been accustomed 
 some time in the winter to feast the poor of the adjoining 
 parishes (women and children, not men) in the riding-house 
 and tennis court, where they were admitted by relays. His 
 illness prevented the dinner taking place ; but when he recov- 
 ered he was bent upon having it, and, as it was put off till the 
 summer, he had it arranged in the open air, and a fine sight 
 it was ; fifty-four tables, each fifty feet long, were placed in a 
 vast semicircle on the lawn before the house. Nothing could 
 be more amusing than to look at the preparations. The ta- 
 bles were all spread with cloths, and plates, and dishes ; two 
 great tents were erected in the middle to receive the provis- 
 ions, which were conveyed in carts, like ammunition. Plum 
 puddings and loaves were piled like cannon-balls, and innu- 
 merable joints of boiled and roast beef were spread out,
 
 1 834-] LORD EGREMONT'S FEAST. 273 
 
 while hot joints were prepared in the kitchen, and sent forth 
 as soon as the firing of guns announced the hour of the feast. 
 Tickets were given to the inhabitants of a certain district, and 
 the number was about 4,000 ; but, as many more came, the 
 old peer could not endure that there should be anybody hun- 
 gering outside his gates, and he went out himself and ordered 
 the barriers to be taken down and admittance given to all. 
 They think 6,000 were fed. Gentlemen from the neighbor- 
 hood carved for them, and waiters were provided from among 
 the peasantry. The food was distributed from the tents and 
 carried off upon hurdles to all parts of the semicircle. A band 
 of music paraded round, playing gay airs. The day was glo- 
 rious an unclouded sky and soft southern breeze. Nothing 
 could exceed the pleasure of that fine old fellow ; he was in 
 and out of the windows of his room twenty times, enjoying 
 the sight of these poor wretches, all attired in their best, cram- 
 ming themselves and their brats with as much as they could 
 devour and snatching a day of relaxation and happiness. 
 After a certain time the women departed, but the park gates 
 were thrown open ; all who chose came in, and walked about 
 the shrubbery and up to the windows of the house. At night 
 there was a great display of fireworks, and I should think, at 
 the time they began, not less than 10,000 people were assem- 
 bled. It was altogether one of the gayest and most beautiful 
 spectacles I ever saw, and there was something affecting in the 
 contemplation of that old man on the verge of the grave, 
 from which he had only lately been reprieved, with his mind 
 as strong and his heart as warm as ever rejoicing in the 
 diffusion of happiness and finding keen gratification in reliev- 
 ing the distresses and contributing to the pleasures of the 
 poor. I thought how applicable to him, mutatis mutandis, 
 was that panegyric of Burke's on the Indian kings: "de- 
 lighting to reign in the dispensation of happiness during the 
 contracted space of human life, strained with all the Teachings 
 and graspings of a vivacious mind to extend the dominion of 
 his bounty .... and to perpetuate himself from generation 
 18
 
 274 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. 
 
 to generation as the guardian, the protector, the nourisher of 
 mankind." 
 
 May i.\th. The Chancellor, who loves to unbosom him- 
 self to Sefton because he knows the latter thinks him the 
 finest fellow breathing, tells him that it is nuts to him to be 
 attacked by noble lords in the Upper House, and that they 
 had better leave him alone if they care for their own hides. 
 Since he loves these assaults, last night he got his bellyful, 
 for he was baited by a dozen at least, and he did not come out 
 of the metie so chuckling and happy as usual. The matter re- 
 lated to the Pluralities Bill, which he had introduced some 
 nights before, in an empty House, without giving notice, and 
 after having told many people (the Archbishop of York among 
 others) that there was nothing more to be done that night. 
 In short he was at his tricks again, lying and shuffling, false 
 and then insolent, and all for no discernible end. The debate 
 exhibits a detail of his misstatements, and of all his wriggling 
 and plunging to get out of the scrape he had got himself into. 
 It is because scarcely any or rather no motive was apparent 
 that it is with difficulty believed that he meant to deceive any- 
 body. But it is in the nature of the man ; he cannot go 
 straight forward ; some object, no matter how trivial, presents 
 itself to his busy and distempered mind, and he immediately 
 begins to think by what artifice and what underhand work he 
 can bring it about ; and thus he exposes himself to the 
 charges of dishonorable conduct without any adequate con- 
 sideration or cause. He reminds me of the man in " Jonathan 
 Wild " who was a rogue by force of habit, who could not keep 
 his hand out of his neighbor's pocket though he knew there 
 was nothing in it, nor help cheating at cards though he was 
 aware he should not be paid if he won. 
 
 June 27//z. Don Carlos is coming to town to Gloucester 
 Lodge. When they told him the Spanish Ambassador (Mira- 
 flores) was come to wait upon him, he replied, " I have no 
 ambassador at the court of London." He will not take any 
 money, and he will neither relinquish his claims to the Span- 
 ish throne nor move hand or foot in prosecuting them. " If
 
 1834.] "PHILIP VAN ARTEVELDE: 1 2J$ 
 
 chance will have me king, why let chance crown me, without 
 my stir." (He was meditating evasion at this time, and got 
 away soon after.) They say he can get all the money he 
 wants from his partisans in Spain, and that there is no lack of 
 wealth in the country. Strange infatuation when men will 
 spend their blood and their money for such a miserable ob- 
 ject. If he had anything like spirit, enterprise, and courage, 
 he would make a fine confusion in Spain, and probably suc- 
 ceed ; his departure from the Peninsula and taking refuge 
 here has not caused the war to languish in the north. Ad- 
 miral Napier is arrived, and has taken a lodging close to him 
 in Portsmouth. Miraflores paid a droll compliment to 
 Madame de Lieven the other night. She was pointing out 
 the various beauties at some ball, and among others Lady 
 Seymour, and asked him if he did not admire her. He said, 
 " Elle est tropjeune, trop fraiche, and then, with a tender look 
 and squeezing her hand, " yaime lesfemmes un pen passe'es." 
 
 July 4/7z. I was at Woolwich yesterday to see the yacht 
 in which the Queen is to sail to the Continent. Such luxury 
 and splendor, and such gorgeous preparations. She will sail 
 like Cleopatra down the Cydnus, and though she will have no 
 beautiful boys like Cupids to fan her, she will be attended by 
 Emily Bagot who is as beautiful as the Mater Cupidinum. She 
 will return to her beggarly country in somewhat different trim 
 from that in which she left it, with all her earls and coun- 
 tesses, equipages, pages, valets, dressers, etc. 
 
 Jidy 24/7*. Read Reeves's " History of English Law," 
 finished Henry Taylor's "Van Artevelde," and read two hun- 
 dred and fifty lines of Virgil. ' Philip van Artevelde " is a 
 poem of extraordinary merit, and the offspring of a vigorous 
 and independent mind. The author, who is my particular 
 friend, and for whom I have a sincere regard and a great ad- 
 miration, took his work to Murray, who gave it to Lockhart to 
 read. Lockhart advised Murray not to publish it, at least at 
 his own risk, but he bestowed great enconiums on the work 
 and urged Taylor to publish it himself. He did so, without 
 much expectation that it would be popular, and has been
 
 276 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1834. 
 
 agreeably surprised to find that in a short space of time a 
 second edition is called for. With the vivacity of a sanguine 
 disposition, and a confidence in the sterling merits of his 
 poem, he now believes that edition will follow edition like 
 wave upon wave, in which I fear he will be disappointed. 
 [When the first edition was all sold, and a second called for, 
 he made up his account with his publisher, and the balance 
 was 37/. against him. November 2()th.~\ 
 
 August 5//*. While I was there news came of Lord Bath- 
 urst's death. He was a very amiable man and with a good 
 understanding, though his talents were far from brilliant, a 
 High Churchman and a High Tory, but a cool politician, a 
 bad speaker, a good writer, greatly averse to changes, but un- 
 willingly acquiescing in many. He was nervous and reserved, 
 with a good deal of humor, and habitually a jester. His con- 
 versation was generally a series of jokes, and he rarely dis- 
 cussed any subject but in a ludicrous vein. His conduct to 
 Napoleon justly incurred odium, for although he was only one 
 of many, he was the minister through whom the orders of 
 government passed, and he suffered the principal share of the 
 reproach which was thrown upon the Cabinet for their rude 
 and barbarous treatment of the Emperor at St. Helena. He 
 had not a lively imagination, and his feelings were not excited 
 by the contemplation of such a striking example of fallen 
 greatness. I was Lord Bathurst's private secretary for sev- 
 eral years, but so far from feeling any obligation to him, I 
 always consider his mistaken kindness in giving me that post 
 as the source of all my misfortunes and the cause of my pres- 
 ent condition. He never thought fit to employ me, never 
 associated me with the interests and the business of his office, 
 and consequently abandoned me at the age of eighteen to that 
 life of idleness and dissipation from which I might have been 
 saved had he felt that my future prospects in life, my char- 
 acter and talents, depended in great measure upon the direc- 
 tion which was at that moment given to my mind. He would 
 probably have made me a Tory (which I should hardly have 
 remained), but I should have become a man of business, and
 
 1834.] THEODORE HOOK. 
 
 of the antagonist tastes which divided my mind, that for litera- 
 ture and employment would have got the better of that for 
 amusement and idleness, instead, as unfortunately happened, 
 of the latter prevailing over the former. Though I knew Lord 
 Bathurst so long, and was his private secretary for some 
 years, and his family and mine have always been so intimate, 
 I had no real intimacy with him. From what I have learnt 
 from others I am disposed to rate his abilities more highly 
 than the world has done. He was the friend and devoted ad- 
 mirer of Pitt, and a regular Tory of the old school, who felt 
 that evil days had come upon him in his old age. When he 
 left office with the Duke of Wellington he resolved upon 
 finally quitting public life, and let what might happen, never 
 to take office again. 
 
 August \T>th. Dined at Roehampton yesterday with Far- 
 quhar. Mrs. Norton and Mrs. Blackwood and Theodore 
 Hook dined there among others. After dinner he displayed 
 his extraordinary talent of improvisation, which I had never 
 heard but once before, and then he happened not to be in 
 the vein. Last night he was very brilliant. Each lady gave 
 him a subject, .such as the " Goodwood Cup," the " Tithe 
 Bill," one "could not think of anything," when he dashed 
 off and sang stanzas innumerable, very droll, with ingenious 
 rhymes and excellent hits, " his eye begetting occasion for 
 his excellent wit," for at every word of interruption, or ad- 
 miration, every look or motion, he indulged in a digression, 
 always coming back to one of the themes imposed upon him. 
 It is a tour de force, in which I believe he stands alone, and it 
 is certainly wonderfully well worth hearing and uncommonly 
 amusing. 
 
 August i^th. Yesterday there was a bother with the 
 Chancellor about Lord Westmeath's case pending before the 
 Privy Council. 1 He took it into his head (probably having 
 
 1 The appellate jurisdiction in causes matrimonial was vested at this time in 
 the King in council. The case of Westmeath v. Westmeath, which was a suit 
 tor a separation and a question of alimony, came up on appeal from the Court of 
 Arches.
 
 278 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. 
 
 been got at by Lady Westmeath or some of her friends) to 
 have it decided forthwith, and sent to desire a committee 
 might be convened. Westmeath's counsel was out of town ; 
 Follett, whom he relies on, is on the Northern circuit, but his 
 other counsel is to be had, being at Chislehurst. Accordingly 
 the Chancellor desired that the case might stand over from 
 Thursday, the day he first appointed it (giving only two 
 days' notice), to Monday, and that it should be notified to 
 the parties that if they did not then appear the case should 
 go on without them. Westmeath came to me in a frenzy of 
 rage, and said the Chancellor was the greatest of villains, and 
 so he would tell him in the House of Lords or in the Privy 
 Council. I begged him to hold his tongue, and I would 
 speak to the Chancellor. So I went to the House of Lords 
 where he was sitting, and told Lemarchant what had passed, 
 and that the case ought not to be thus hurried on. He 
 thanked me very much, and said he would go to Brougham ; 
 but he soon returned, and said that the Chancellor would 
 hear nothing, and would have the case brought on, and he 
 therefore advised me not to give myself any further concern 
 in it, and to leave him and Westmeath to settle it as they 
 might. In the mean time Westmeath went down to the 
 House of Lords, and after speaking to Wynford, whom the 
 Chancellor had asked to attend (as he learnt from me), was 
 going to get up in the House of Lords and attack him, and 
 was only prevented by Wynford dragging him down by the 
 tail of his coat. I had already spoken to Wynford, and I 
 afterwards spoke to Lord Lansdowne, telling them that the 
 case ought not to be hurried on in this peremptory way, and 
 I persuaded Lord Lansdowne to set his face against it. 
 However, in the mean time Wynford had urged the Chan- 
 cellor to put it off, and not exasperate that madman, who 
 would say or do something violent ; and, whether from 
 reason or fear, he prevailed on him. Wynford told me that 
 Brougham is undoubtedly mad, and so I really believe he is. 
 
 August l6th. At a council for the prorogation; the first 
 time I have seen all these new ministers in a bunch a
 
 1834.] THE LORD CHANCELLOR. 2/9 
 
 queer set, all things considered, to be in possession of the 
 palace. Great change of decoration. Duncannon, Ellice, 
 Hobhouse, Abercromby, Mulgrave, Auckland. The King, 
 who is fond of meddling in the council business instead of 
 repeating like a parrot what is put in his mouth, made a 
 bother and confusion about a fancy matter, and I was forced 
 to go to Taylor and beg to explain it to him, which I did 
 after the House of Lords. The King was quite knocked up 
 and easily satisfied, for he neither desired nor could hav^ 
 understood any explanations. There were not much more 
 than half a dozen peers in the House, but many ladies. The 
 Chancellor went down, and, in presence of the ladies, attired 
 in his golden robes (and especially before Mrs. P., to whom 
 he makes love), gave a judgment in some case in which a 
 picture of Nell Gwynne was concerned, and he was very 
 proud of the delicacy of his judgment. There never was 
 anything like his exhilaration of spirits and good humor. 
 I don't know what has come to him, except it be that he 
 has scrambled through the session and got Lord Grey out. 
 He wound up in the House of Lords by the introduction of 
 his bill for a judicial committee there, which he prefaced by 
 a speech exhibiting his own judicial acts, and undoubtedly 
 making a capital case for himself as to diligence and dis- 
 patch if it be all true (which I see no reason to doubt), and 
 passing a great eulogium upon the House of Lords as an 
 institution, and drawing comparisons between that House 
 and the House of Commons (much to the disadvantage of 
 the latter), expressing many things which are very true and 
 just and of a highly conservative tendency. He is a strange 
 being whom, with all his inconsistencies, one cannot but 
 admire ; so varied and prodigious are his powers. Much 
 more are these lines applicable to him than to his predecessor 
 on the woolsack : 
 
 " Great wits are sure to madness near allied, 
 And thin partitions do their bounds divide." 
 
 In a speech the other night, by way of putting his audience 
 on a wrong scent with regard to his correspondence with
 
 J80 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1834. 
 
 Lord Wellesley, he assured them that that correspondence 
 was on any subject but politics, and in every language except 
 English ; and Lemarchant told somebody that his most diffi- 
 cult employment was to correct and copy out the Chancel- 
 lor's Greek epigrams to Lord Wellesley, his Greek charac- 
 ters being worse than his English ; while Lord Wellesley 
 sent him very neatly written and prettily composed epigrams 
 in return. I should think Lemarchant's occupation very 
 amusing, and that no study could be more curious than 
 that of the mind and actions of this strange specimen of 
 humanity. 
 
 August igth. At Stoke from Saturday, the i6th, till yes- 
 terday ; had much talk with old Creevey about the Chancellor. 
 Sefton, his great ally, so resented his conduct to Lord Grey 
 that he was on the point of quarreling with him, and 
 Brougham miscalculated so far as to chuckle to Sefton him- 
 self over the improvement of his own position in the new 
 order of things, telling him that he could more easily manage 
 Melbourne than he could Lord Grey. They are a precious 
 set with their squabbles and tracasseries. It appears that 
 they very well knew what Brougham was from the beginning, 
 especially Grey's womankind, who warned their father against 
 him, but they all flattered themselves they had taken the 
 sting out of him by getting him into the House of Lords. 
 Creevey says that Brougham is devoured with ambition, and 
 what he wants is to be prime minister, but that it is quite 
 impossible he should forever escape detection and not be 
 regularly blown up sooner or later. He now wants to ap- 
 pear on good terms with Lord Grey, and there is a dinner 
 at Edinburgh in contemplation (at which Brougham is to 
 preside) to be given to Lord Grey. His friends want him 
 not to go, but he has a notion that the Scotch have behaved 
 so well to him that he ought not to refuse the invitation. 
 The Chancellor had intended to go junketing on the Rhine 
 with. Mrs. P., and this project was only marred by his dis- 
 covering that he could not leave the country without putting 
 the great seal in commission at a cost (to himself) of i,4oo/.
 
 1834-] SPENCER PERCEVAL. 28 1 
 
 This was a larger sum than he was disposed to pay for his 
 trip, so he went off to Brougham instead. 
 
 On Sunday I went all over the private apartments at Wind- 
 sor Castle, and walked through what they call the slopes to 
 the Queen's cottage ; all very splendid and luxurious. In 
 the gallery there is a model of a wretched-looking dog-hole of 
 a building, with a ruined tower beside it. I asked what this 
 was, and the housekeeper said, " The Chateau of Mein- 
 ingen ; " put there, I suppose, to enhance by comparison the 
 pleasure of all the grandeur which surrounds the Queen, for 
 it would hardly have been exhibited as a philosophical or 
 moral memento of her humble origin and the low fortune 
 from which she has been raised. 
 
 As I rode into London yesterday morning I fell in with 
 Spencer Perceval, and got off my horse to walk into town 
 with him. He talks rationally enough till he gets on religious 
 topics ; he asked me what I thought of the state of affairs, 
 and, after telling him my opinion of the condition and pros- 
 pects of the Church, I asked him what he thought of them. 
 He said he agreed with me as to the status, but his notion 
 was " that it all proceeded from a departure from God," that 
 ours was a backsliding Church, and that God had forsaken 
 it, and that we had only to put our trust in Him, and rely 
 entirely on Him, and He would work out the salvation of his 
 own. We parted in the midst of the discussion, and before I 
 had any time to get from him any explanation of the course 
 he would recommend to those who govern in furtherance of 
 his own theocratical principles. 
 
 There has been what is called " a great Protestant meet- 
 ing " at Dublin, at which Winchelsea was introduced to the 
 Irish Orangemen and made one of them. It was great in one 
 way, for there were a great many fools, who talked a great 
 deal of nonsense and evinced a disposition to do a great deal 
 of mischief if they can. Winchelsea's description of himself 
 was undoubtedly true, only it is true always and of all of them, 
 " that his feelings were so excited that .he was deprived of 
 what little intellect he possessed."
 
 282 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1834. 
 
 August 26th. When I got to town yesterday, to my great 
 astonishment I found that the Vice-chancellor had been at 
 the office with a peremptory mandate from the Chancellor to 
 bring on the Westmeath case on Friday next, sent up from 
 Brougham Hall. In my absence the summonses had been is- 
 sued, but I desired them all to be recalled, and the Vice- 
 chancellor soon after happening to call on me, I told him 
 what had occurred before, and that the Lord President was 
 opposed to the cause being thus hurried on. He acquiesced, 
 and wrote to the Chancellor to say he had heard from me that 
 it could not be ; and so it ended, but I dare say the Chancellor 
 will be in a violent rage, which I rather enjoy than not. 1 It is 
 very clear that he intends to exercise paramount authority 
 over the judicial committee, and to consider everything con- 
 nected with it at his disposal. 
 
 September ^th. At court yesterday. The King came to 
 town to receive the address of the city on the Queen's re- 
 turn the most ridiculous address I ever heard. The Queen 
 was too ill to appear. Her visit to Germany knocked her up, 
 and well it might, considering the life she led always up at 
 six and never in bed till twelve, continual receptions and cere- 
 monies. Errol told me she showed them her old bedroom 
 in the palace (as they call it) at Meiningen a hole that an 
 English housemaid would think it a hardship to sleep in. 
 
 Stanley (not the ex-secretary, but the in under-secretary) 
 told me last night an anecdote of Melbourne which I can very 
 easily believe. When the King sent for him he told Young 
 " he thought it a damned bore, and that he was in many minds 
 what he should do be minister or no." Young said, " Why, 
 damn it, such a position never was occupied by any Greek or 
 Roman, and, if it only lasts two months, it is well worth while 
 to have been prime minister of England." " By God, that 's 
 true," said Melbourne ; " I '11 go." Young is his private sec- 
 retary a vulgar, familiar, impudent fellow, but of indefati- 
 
 1 In addition to other reasons, which are obvious, against this proceeding, it 
 would have been an unprecedented thing to call on an important appeal for hearing 
 at the end of August, in the midst of the long vacation.
 
 1834] AT HOLLAND HOUSE. 283 
 
 gable industry and a man who suits Melbourne. His taste is 
 not delicate enough to be shocked at the coarseness, while his 
 indolence is accommodated by the industry, of his secretary. 
 Then Young 1 knows many people, many places, and many 
 things ; nobody knows whence he comes or what is his origin, 
 but he was a purser in the navy, and made himself useful to 
 the Duke of Devonshire when he went to Russia, who recom- 
 mended him to Melbourne. He was a writer and runner for 
 the newspapers, and has always been an active citizen, strug- 
 gling and striving to get on in the world, and probably with no 
 inconsiderable dexterity. I know nothing of his honesty, for 
 or against it ; he seems good-humored, but vulgar and famil- 
 iar. 
 
 September $th. At Holland House yesterday, where I 
 had not been these two years. Met Lord Holland at court, 
 who made me go. The last time I was with my lady she 
 was so mighty uncivil that I left off my visits, and then we 
 met again as if there had been no interruption, and as if we 
 had been living together constantly. Spring Rice and his 
 son, Melbourne, and Palmerston dined there : Allen was at 
 Dulwich, but came in the evening and so did Bobus Smith. 
 There was a great deal of very good talk, anecdotes, literary 
 criticism, and what not, some of which would be worth re- 
 membering, though hardly sufficiently striking to be put down, 
 unless as forming a portion of a whole course of conversations 
 of this description. A vast depression came over my spirits, 
 though I was amused, and I don't suppose I uttered a dozen 
 words. It is certainly true that the atmosphere of Hollanc 
 House is often oppressive, but that was not it ; it was a pain- 
 ful consciousness of my own deficiencies and of my incapacity 
 to take a fair share in conversation of this description I felt 
 as if a language was spoken before me which I understood, 
 but i :t enough to talk in it myself. There was nothing dis- 
 cussed of which I was altogether ignorant, and when the 
 merits of Wordsworth, Coleridge, and Crabbe, were brought 
 
 1 Tom Young was commonly known as " Ubiquity Young," because you saw him 
 in every place you might happen to go to.
 
 284 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1834. 
 
 into comparison, and Lord Holland cut jokes upon Allen for 
 his enthusiastic admiration of the " De Moribus German- 
 orum," it was not that I had not read the poets or the histo- 
 rian, but that I felt I had not read them with profit. I have 
 not that familiarity with either which enables me to discuss 
 their merits, and a painful sense came over me of the differ- 
 ence between one who has superficially read and one who has 
 studied, one who has laid a solid foundation in early youth, 
 gathering knowledge as he advances in years, all the stores of 
 his mind being so orderly disposed that they are at all times 
 available, and one who (as I have done) has huddled together 
 a quantity of loose reading, as vanity, curiosity, and not sel- 
 dom shame impelled ; reading thus without system, more to 
 cover the deficiencies of ignorance than to augment the stores 
 of knowledge, loads the mind with an undigested mass of 
 matter, which proves when wanted to be of small practical 
 utility in short, one must pay for the follies of one's youth. 
 He who wastes his early years in horse-racing and all sorts of 
 idleness, figuring away among the dissolute and the foolish, 
 must be content to play an inferior part among the learned 
 and the wise. Some instances there are of men who have 
 united both characters, but it will be found that these have 
 had frequent laborious intervals, that though they may have 
 been vicious, they have never been indolent, and that their 
 minds have never slumbered and lost by disuse the power of 
 exertion. Reflections of this sort make me very uncomforta- 
 ble, and I am ready to cry with vexation when I think on my 
 misspent life. If I was insensible to a higher order of merit, 
 and indifferent to a nobler kind of praise, I should be happier 
 far ; but to be tormented with the sentiment of an honorable 
 ambition and with aspirations after better things, and at the 
 same time so sunk in sloth and bad habits as to be incapable 
 of those exertions without which their objects are unattaina- 
 ble, is of all conditions the worst. I sometimes think that it 
 would be better for me, as I am not what I might have been 
 (if my education had been less neglected, and my mind had 
 undergone a better system of moral discipline), if I was still
 
 1834-] THE TALK OF HOLLAND HOUSE. 285 
 
 lower than I am in the scale, and belonged entirely to a more 
 degraded caste ; and then again, when I look forward to that 
 period which is fast approaching 
 
 " When .... a sprightlier age 
 Comes tittering on to drive one from the stage " 
 
 I am thankful that I have still something in store, that though 
 far below the wise and the learned, I am still something raised 
 above the ignorant mob, that though much of my mental sub- 
 stance has been wasted, I have enough left to appear respect- 
 ably in the world, and that I have at least preserved that 
 taste for literary pursuits which I cling to as the greatest of 
 blessings and the best security against the tedium and vacuity 
 which are the indispensable concomitants of an idle youth and 
 an ignorant old age. 
 
 As a slight but imperfect sketch of the talk of Holland House 
 I will put down this : 
 
 They talked of Taylor's new poem, " Philip van Artevelde." 
 Melbourne had read and admired it. The preface, he said, 
 was affected and foolish, the poem very superior to anything 
 in Milman. There was one fine idea in the " Fall of Jeru- 
 salem " that of Titus, who felt himself propelled by an irre- 
 sistible impulse like that of the Greek dramatists, whose fate 
 is the great agent always pervading their dramas. They held 
 Wordsworth cheap, except Spring Rice, who was enthusiastic 
 about him. Holland thought Crabbe the greatest genius of 
 modern poets. Melbourne said he degraded every subject. 
 None of them had known Coleridge ; his lectures were very 
 tiresome, but he is a poet of great merit. Then they spoke of 
 Spencer Perceval and Irving preaching in the streets. Irving 
 had called on Melbourne, and eloquently remonstrated that 
 " they only asked the same license that was given to puppet- 
 shows and other sights not to be prevented ; that the command 
 was express, ' Go into the highways,' and that they must obey 
 God rather than man." Melbourne said this was all very true 
 and unanswerable. " What did you answer ? " I asked. " I 
 said, ' You must not preach there.' " Then of Cambridge and
 
 286 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1834. 
 
 Goulburn, who is a saint and gave lectures in his room, by 
 which he has caught several young men. Lord Holland spoke 
 of George III.'s letters to Lord North ; the King liked Lord 
 North, hated the Duke of Richmond. Amongst the few 
 people he liked were Lord Loughborough and Lord Thurlow, 
 Thurlow was always " endeavoring to undermine the minister 
 with whom he was acting, and intriguing underhand with his 
 enemies." Loughborough used to say, " Do what you think 
 right, and never think of what you are to say to excuse it be- 
 forehand " a good maxim. The Duke of Richmond in 1763 
 or 1764, after an audience of the King in his closet, told him 
 that " he had said that to him which if he was a subject he 
 should not scruple to call an untruth." The King never for- 
 gave it, and the Duke had had the imprudence to make a young 
 king his enemy for life. This Duke of Richmond, when Lord- 
 lieutenant of Sussex, during the American war, sailed in a 
 yacht through the fleet, when the King was there, with Amer- 
 ican colors at his mast-head. He never forgave Fox for 
 putting the Duke of Portland instead of himself at the head 
 of the government in 1782. During the riots in 1780 on ac- 
 count of Admiral Keppel, Tom Grenville burst open the door 
 of the Admiralty, and assisted at the pillage and destruction 
 of papers. Lord Grey a little while ago attacked him about 
 it, and he did not deny it. Such things could not be done now. 
 During the Windsor election they hired a mob to go down and 
 throw Lord Mornington (Lord Wellesley) over Windsor Bridge, 
 and Fitzpatrick said it would be so fine to see St. Patrick's 
 blue ribbon floating down the stream. They first sent to Piper 
 to know if Lord Mornington could swim. The plan was de- 
 feated by his having a still stronger mob. After dinner they 
 discussed women's works : few chefs-cfceuvres ; Madame de 
 Se'vigne' the best ; the only three of a high class are Madame 
 de Sevigne', Madame de Stae'l, and (Bobus Smith said) Sappho, 
 but of her not above forty lines are extant ; these, however, 
 are unrivaled ; Mrs. Somerville is very great in the exact 
 sciences. Lady Holland would not hear of Madame de Stae'l. 
 They agreed as to Miss Austen that her novels are excellent
 
 1 834-] KLOPSTOCK AND THE STUDENTS. 287 
 
 Quintus Curtius is confirmed by Burnes's travels in Bokhara, 
 but was reckoned' no authority by the greatest scholars ; Lord 
 Melbourne said Mitford had expressed his confidence in him. 
 Of the early English kings there is no reason to believe that 
 any king before Edward III. understood the English language ; 
 the quarrel between Beckett and King Henry II. was at- 
 tributed (by some writers) to the hostile feeling between Nor- 
 mans and Saxons, and this was the principal motive of the 
 quarrel and the murder of the Archbishop. Klopstock had a 
 sect of admirers in Germany ; some young students made a 
 pilgrimage from Gottingen to Hamburg, where Klopstock lived 
 in his old age, to ask him the meaning of a passage in one of 
 his works which they could not understand. He looked at it, 
 and then said that he could not then recollect what it was that 
 he meant when he wrote it, but that he knew it was the finest 
 thing he ever wrote, and they could not do better than devote 
 their lives to the discovery of its meaning. 
 
 September "jth. At Holland House again ; only Bobus 
 Smith and Melbourne ; these two with Allen, and Lord Hol- 
 land agreeable enough. Melbourne's excellent scholarship 
 and universal information remarkably display themselves in 
 society, and he delivers himself with an energy which shows 
 how deeply his mind is impressed with literary subjects. 
 
 After dinner there was much talk of the Church, and Allen 
 spoke of the early reformers, the Catharists, and how the early 
 Christians persecuted each other ; Melbourne quoted Vig- 
 ilantius's letter to Jerome, and then asked Allen about the 
 nth of Henry IV., an act passed by the Commons against 
 the Church, and referred to the dialogue between the Arch- 
 bishop of Canterbury and the Bishop of Ely at the beginning 
 of Shakespeare's " Henry V.," which Lord Holland sent for 
 and read, Melbourne knowing it all by heart and prompting 
 all the time. Lingard says of this statute that the Commons 
 proposed to the King to commit an act of spoliation on the 
 clergy, but that the King sharply rebuked them and desired 
 to hear no more of the matter. About etymologies Melbourne 
 quoted Tooke's " Diversions of Purley," which he seemed to
 
 288 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1834. 
 
 have at his fingers' ends. I forget what other topics were 
 discussed, but after Lady Holland and Melbourne and Allen 
 went to bed, Lord Holland, Bobus, and I sat down, and Lord 
 Holland told us many anecdotes about the great orators of 
 his early days. Fox used to say Grey was the most prudent 
 man he knew, and this perhaps owing to his having got into 
 a scrape early in his Parliamentary life, by attacking Pitt, who 
 gave him a severe castigation ; it was about his letter to the 
 Prince being sent by a servant during the regency discussions. 
 Fox thought his own speech in 1804 on going to war with 
 France the best he ever made. Lord Holland believed that 
 Pitt (the younger) was not so eloquent as Chatham. Grattan 
 said, " He takes longer flights, does not soar so high." No 
 power was ever equal to Chatham's over a public assembly, 
 much greater in the Commons than it was afterwards in the 
 Lords. When Sir Thomas Robinson had been boring the 
 House on some commercial question, and introduced the word 
 "sugar" so often that there was at last a laugh as often as he 
 did so, Chatham, then Mr. Pitt, who had put him up, grew 
 very angry, and at last his wrath boiled over. When Robin- 
 son sat down Pitt rose, and with a tone and manner of the 
 utmost indignation began, " Mr. Speaker, sir, sugar I 
 say sugar. Who laughs now ? " and nobody did laugh. Once 
 in the House of Lords, on a debate during the American war, 
 he said he hoped the King might be awakened from his slum- 
 bers. There was a cry of " Order ! order ! " " Order, my 
 lords ? " burst out Chatham, " Order ? I have not been dis- 
 orderly, but I will be disorderly. I repeat again, I hope that 
 his Majesty may be awakened from his slumbers, but that he 
 may be awakened by such an awful apparition as that which 
 drew King Priam's curtains in the dead of the night and told 
 him of the conflagration of his empire." Holland regretted 
 much that he had never heard Lord North, whom he fancied 
 he should have liked as much as any of his great opponents ; 
 his temper, shrewdness, humor, and power of argument were 
 very great. Tommy Townshend, a violent, foolish fellow, 
 who was always talking strong language, said in some debate,
 
 1834-] HOLLAND HOUSE. 289 
 
 " Nothing will satisfy me but to have the noble lord's head ; 
 I will have his head." Lord North said, "The honorable 
 gentleman says he will have my head. I bear him no malice 
 in return, for though the honorable gentleman says he will 
 have my head, I can assure him that I would on no account 
 have his." 
 
 September \-$th. Dined again at Holland House the day 
 before yesterday ; Melbourne, Rice, Lord and Lady Alber- 
 marle, and Lord Gosford ; rather dull. A discussion about 
 who was the man in a mask who cut Charles I.'s head off; 
 Macintosh believed he knew. What a literary puerility ! 
 The man in a mask was Jack Ketch (whatever his name was) ; 
 who can doubt it ? Where was the man, Roundhead or 
 Puritan, who as an amateur would have mounted the scaffold 
 to perform this office ? But the executioner, though only dis- 
 charging the duties of his office, probably thought in those 
 excited times that he would not be safe from the vengeance of 
 some enthusiastic cavalier, and that it was more prudent to 
 conceal the features of the man by whom the deed was done. 
 Melbourne swore that Henry VIII. was the greatest man who 
 ever lived, and Allen declared if he had not married Anne 
 Boleyn we should have continued Catholics to this day, both 
 of which assertions I ventured to dispute. Allen with all his 
 learning is fond of a paradox, and his prejudices shine forth 
 in every question in which church and religion are implicated. 
 Melbourne loves dashing opinions. 
 
 September i8M. Henry Taylor brought me a parcel of 
 letters to frank to Southey the other day ; they are from New- 
 ton, Cowper's nephew (I think to W. Thornton), and they are 
 to supply Southey with materials for Cowper's life, which he 
 is writing. There is one curious fact revealed in these letters, 
 which accounts for much of Cowper's morbid state of mind 
 and fits of depression, as well as for the circumstance of his 
 running away from his place in the House of Lords. It 
 relates to some defect in his physical conformation ; some- 
 body found out his secret, and probably threatened its ex- 
 posure.
 
 THE GREl'ILLK MEMOIRS. [1834. 
 
 September \f)th. Yesterday at Holland House ; nobody 
 there but Melbourne. We were talking of reform, and Lord 
 Holland said, " I don't know if we were right about reform, 
 but this I know, that if we were to propose it at all, we were 
 right in going the lengths we did, and this was Canning's 
 opinion." Melbourne said, " Yes, I know it was, and that 
 was mine, and that was the reason why I was against re- 
 form." Holland then resumed that he had formerly been one 
 of Canning's most intimate friends at college ; that at that 
 time the beginning of the French Revolution when a gen- 
 eral excitement prevailed, Canning was a great Jacobin, much 
 more so than he was himself ; that Canning had always hated 
 the aristocracy (a hatred which they certainly returned with 
 interest) ; that in after life he had been separated from Can- 
 ning, and they had seen but little of each other. Just before 
 he was going to India, however, Holland called on him, and 
 Canning dined at Holland House. On one of these occasions 
 they had a conversation upon the subject of reform, when 
 Canning said that he saw it was inevitable, and he was not 
 sorry to be away while the measure was accomplished, but 
 that if he had been here while it was mooted, he could have 
 let those gentlemen (the Whig aristocracy) kown that they 
 should gain nothing by it. After dinner we had much talk 
 about religion, when Allen got into a fury ; he thundered out 
 his invectives against the charlatanerie of the Apostles and 
 Fathers and the brutal ignorance of the early Christian con- 
 verts, when Holland said, laughing, " Well, but you need not 
 abuse them so violently." They were in high delight at Hol- 
 land House at the way the Edinburgh dinner went off. It 
 was a very ludicrous incident that the Scotchmen could not be 
 kept from falling to before Lord Grey and the grandees ar- 
 rived, and when they did come most of the dinner was already 
 eaten up. The Chancellor is said to have made an admirable 
 speech at the meeting of savans, full of dignity, propriety, and 
 eloquence, and the savans spoke one more absurdly than 
 another. 
 
 September 2.$th. Dined yesterday at Holland House ; only
 
 1834-] LORD MELBOURNE. 2QI 
 
 Melbourne and Pahlen, and in the evening Senior came. He 
 is a very able man a conveyancer, great political economist, 
 and author of various works on that subject. He was em- 
 ployed by government to draw up the Poor Law Bill, and 
 might have been one of the Poor Law Commissioners if he 
 would have accepted the office ; his profits in his profession 
 are too great to be given up for this occupation. By a dis- 
 cussion which arose about Bickersteth's merits it was clear 
 that there is a question of his being Solicitor-general. Mel- 
 bourne said " he was a Benthamite, and they were all fools." 
 (He said a doctrinaire was a fool, but an honest man.) I said 
 " the Austins were not fools." " Austin ? Oh, a damned 
 fool. Did you ever read his book on ' Jurisprudence ' ? " I 
 said I had read a great part of it, and that it did not appear to 
 be the work of a fool. He said he had read it all, and that it 
 was the dullest book he ever read, and full of truisms elabo- 
 rately set forth. Melbourne is very fond of being slashing 
 and paradoxical. It is astonishing how much he reads even 
 now that he is prime minister. He is greatly addicted to 
 theology, and loves conversing on the subject of religion. 
 
 , who wanted him to marry her (which he won't do, 
 
 though he likes to talk to her), is the depositary of his 
 thoughts and notions on these subjects, and the other day she 
 told me he sent her a book (I forget what) on the Revelation 
 stuffed with marginal notes of his own. It was not long ago 
 that he studied Lardner's book on the "Credibility of the 
 Christian Religion," and compared it with the Bible as he 
 went along. She fancies that all this reading and reflection 
 have turned him into the right way. I can see no symptom of 
 it at Holland House. 
 
 After dinner we talked of languages, and Lord Holland in- 
 sisted that Spanish was the finest of all and the best adapted 
 to eloquence. They said that George Villiers wrote word 
 that nothing could be better than the speaking in the Cortes 
 great readiness and acuteness in reply and that a more 
 dexterous and skillful debater than Martinez de la Rosa could 
 not be found in any assembly. " That speaking so well is the
 
 292 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1834. 
 
 worst thing about them," said Melbourne. " Ah, that is one 
 of your paradoxes," Lord Holland replied. 
 
 Allen talked to me about the Harley papers, which were 
 left in a box not to be opened for sixty years ; the box was 
 only opened a few years ago at my cousin Titchfield's (the 
 first) desire, and the papers submitted to Macintosh, with per- 
 mission to publish them in his " History of England." Mac- 
 intosh's death put an end to this, and Allen wants me to ask 
 my uncle the Duke of Portland to put them in my hands and 
 let me publish them. I never did so. Macaulay had all 
 Macintosh's papers, and amongst them his notes from these 
 MSS. 
 
 November i^th. Went down to the Council Office yester- 
 day, and found them in the middle of Lord Westmeath's case 
 Lord Lansdowne, the Vice-chancellor, Parke, Erskine, and 
 Vaughan. Lushington was for Lady Westmeath, and Follett 
 (with a civilian) for him. After the argument there was a dis- 
 cussion, and well did Westmeath do, for they reduced the ali- 
 mony from yoo/. to 3 if/, a year, and the arrears in the same 
 proportion. Thus Westmeath succeeded in great measure in 
 his appeal, which he would not have done if the Chancellor 
 had contrived to lug on the case as he wished ; for Erskine 
 was all for giving her more, the others did not seem averse, 
 and but for Parke, who hit off the right principle, as well as 
 what best accorded with the justice of the case, she would 
 certainly have got a much larger award. 
 
 December \st. Went to St. Paul's yesterday evening, to 
 hear Sydney Smith preach. He is very good ; manner im- 
 pressive, voice sonorous and agreeable, rather familiar, but 
 not offensively so, language simple and unadorned, sermon 
 clever and illustrative. The service is exceedingly grand, 
 performed with all the pomp of a cathedral and chanted with 
 beautiful voices ; the lamps scattered few and far between 
 through the vast space under the dome, making darkness visi- 
 ble, and dimly revealing the immensity of the building, were 
 exceedingly striking. The Cathedral service thus chanted 
 and performed is my bean ideal of religious worship simple,
 
 1835-] SEBASTIANI. 293 
 
 intelligible, and grand, appealing at the same time to the rea- 
 son and the imagination. I prefer it infinitely to the Catholic 
 service, for though I am fond of the bursts of music and the 
 clouds of incense, I can't endure the undistinguishable sounds 
 with which the priest mumbles over the prayers. 
 
 1835- 
 
 January ist. I heard a ridiculous anecdote of the King 
 the other day. He wrote to the Duke about something no 
 matter what, but I believe some appointment and added a 
 Propos de bottes, " His Majesty begs to call the attention of the 
 Duke to the theoretical state of Persia." The Duke replied 
 that he was aware of the importance of Persia, but submitted 
 that it was a matter*which did not press for the moment. 
 
 January $th. Sebastiani is coming here as ambassador 
 that is, unless he changes his mind and pleads ill health. 
 The French government notified to us his appointment with- 
 out asking our consent, and when the Duke stated it to the 
 Cabinet, objections were made ; he accordingly wrote the 
 same day to Bacourt, stating that the Cabinet thought the 
 appointment objectionable, and that there would be difficulties 
 in transacting business with him. The French government 
 expressed surprise, and rather insist upon their appointment, 
 and as ours does not think it worth while to have a dispute 
 about it, he is to come ; but we think they have behaved very 
 ill, for the Duke never proposed the Paris Embassy to Lord 
 Cowley till he had communicated with France, and ascer- 
 tained that the nomination would be agreeable to the King. 
 It was expected that St. Aulaire or Latour-Maubourg would 
 have come here. It is of Madame de St. Aulaire that Talley- 
 rand said, " Elle cherche V esprit que son mart troiive" (This 
 anecdote I suspect not to be true, or not true of Madame de 
 St. Aulaire, who is a very intelligent, agreeable woman, more 
 lively and with more finesse cT esprit than her husband.) 
 
 St. Aulaire is ambassador at Vienna, and, however clever, 
 he either wants presence of mind or is touchy, as the follow- 
 ing anecdote shows. Madame de Metternich is a fine, hand-
 
 2Q4 Tf I E GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1835. 
 
 some woman, ill brought up, impertinent, insouciant, and 
 assez bourrue au reste, quick and amusing. She went to a 
 ball at St. Aulaire's with a fine coronet of diamonds on, and 
 when he came to receive her, he said, " Mon dieu, madame, 
 quelle belle couronne vous avez sur la tete ! " "Au moins," 
 said she, " ce n'est pas une couronne que j'ai volde." Instead 
 of turning it into a joke, he made a serious affair of it, and 
 went the next day to Metternich with a formal complaint ; but 
 Metternich said, " Mais, mon cher, que voulez-vous ? Vous 
 voyez que j'ai e'pouse' une femme sans Education ; je ne puis 
 pas I'empecher de dire de pareilles sottises, mais vous sentez 
 bien que ce serait fort inconve'nant pour moi de m'en meler. 
 Allons ! il n'y faut plus penser," and so turned it off, and 
 turned him out, by insisting on making a joke of the affair, as 
 St. Aulaire had better have done at first. 
 
 January \$th. Theodore Hook improvised in a wonderful 
 way that evening ; he sang a song, the burden of which was 
 " Good-night," inimitably good, and which might have been 
 written down. I heard two good things at dinner yesterday, 
 one of Spankie's. In his canvass he met with a refusal from 
 some tradesman, who told him he should vote for Duncombe 
 and Wakley. Spankie said, " Well, my friend, I am sorry you 
 won't vote for me, and I can only say that I hope you may 
 have Tom Duncombe for your customer, and Wakley for your 
 tenant." 1 The other is attributed to Alvanley. Some re- 
 former was clamoring for the expulsion of the bishops from 
 the House of Lords, but said he would not have them all go ; 
 he would leave two : " To keep up the breed, I suppose," said 
 the other. 
 
 February $>th. My brothers tell me that the Duke is bored 
 to death with the King, who thinks it necessary to be giving 
 advice and opinions upon different matters, always to the last 
 degree ridiculous and absurd. He is just now mightily in- 
 
 1 The one was celebrated for non-payment of his bills, and the other was sus- 
 pected of setting fire to his house. Wakley's house was burnt, and he brought an 
 action against the insurance office, which declined to pay his policy. I forget what 
 was the result of the trial, but that of the evidence was a conviction of his own in- 
 strumentality.
 
 I835-] THE KING'S WHIMS. 295 
 
 dignant at Lord Napier's affair at Canton, and wants to go to 
 war with China. He writes in this strain to the Duke, who is 
 obliged to write long answers, very respectfully telling him 
 what an old fool he is. Another crotchet of his is to buy the 
 Island of St. Bartholomew (which belongs to Denmark, and 
 which the Danes want to sell) for fear the Russians should buy 
 it, as he is very jealous of Russia. The Duke told him that it 
 would cost 7o,ooo/. or 8o,ooo/., for which they must go to Par- 
 liament ; and he did not think any House of Commons we 
 were likely to have would vote such a sum for such a pur- 
 pose. Then he does not at all like Pozzo di Borgo's coming 
 here, and wrote to say that since he was to come, it was well 
 that he would have the vigilant eye of the Duke to watch him, 
 for he never could look upon him in any other light than as 
 the servile tool of advancing the ambitious objects of an ag- 
 grandizing and unprincipled power, or words to that effect. 
 He thinks his present ministers do not treat him well, inas- 
 much as they do not tell him enough. The last, it seems, 
 constantly fed him with scraps of information which he twad- 
 dled over, and probably talked nonsense about ; but it is 
 difficult to imagine anything more irksome for a government 
 beset with difficulties like this than to have to discuss the 
 various details of their measures with a silly bustling old fel- 
 low, who can by no possibility comprehend the scope and bear- 
 ing of anything. 
 
 February 17 th. Yesterday I read Burke 's appeal from the 
 new to the old Whigs, which contains astonishing coincidences 
 with the present times. His definition of the people is some- 
 what tumid and obscure, and involved in a splendid confusion 
 of generalities and abstruse doctrine ; but it is a wonderful 
 monument of his genius, and exhibits that extent of knowl- 
 edge and accuracy of insight into the nature of parties and 
 the workings of political ambition which make him an author- 
 ity for all times, and show him to be in the political what 
 Shakespeare was in the moral world. But his writings, how- 
 ever as objects of study they may influence the opinions or form 
 the judgment of young men, would have no more power than
 
 296 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1835. 
 
 a piece of musty parchment to arrest the tide of present vio- 
 lence, and superinduce reflection and calmness. A speech 
 of Tom Duncombe's would produce far greater effect than 
 the perusal of a discourse of Burke's. Wisdom never operates 
 directly on masses ; it may work upon them through secondary 
 and by indirect means, but it cannot face the noise of actual 
 contest, where passion and not reason is always uppermost. 
 Nobody but Burke could have described so well the Dukes of 
 Devonshire and Bedford of the present day, who appear to 
 have lost their senses, and to be ready to peril all their great 
 possessions to gratify the passions of the moment. He says : 
 " But riches do not in all cases secure even an inert and 
 passive resistance ; there are always in that description men 
 whose fortunes, when their minds are once vitiated by passion 
 or evil principle, are by no means a security from their act- 
 ually taking their part against the public tranquillity. We 
 see to what low and despicable passion of all kinds many men 
 in that class are ready to sacrifice the patrimonial estates which 
 might be perpetuated in their families with splendor, and with 
 the fame of hereditary benefactors to mankind, from genera- 
 tion to generation. Do we not see how lightly people treat 
 their fortunes when they are under the passion of gaming ? 
 The game of resentment or ambition will be played by many 
 of the great and rich as desperately and with as much blind- 
 ness to the consequences as any other game. Passion blinds 
 them to the consequences as far as they concern themselves, 
 and as to the consequences with regard to others, they are no 
 part of their consideration." 
 
 The other night I met some clerks in the Foreign Office to 
 whom the very name of Palmerston is hateful, but I was sur- 
 prised to hear them (Mellish particularly, who can judge both 
 from capacity and opportunity) give ample testimony to. his 
 abilities. They said that he wrote admirably, and could ex- 
 press himself perfectly in French, very sufficiently in Italian, 
 and understood German ; that his diligence and attention were 
 unwearied ; he read everything and wrote an immense quan- 
 tity ; that the foreign ministers (who detest him) did him jus-
 
 1835-] SIR EDWARD AND LADY SUGDEN. 297 
 
 tice as an excellent man of business. His great fault is want 
 of punctuality, and never caring for an engagement if it did 
 not suit him, keeping everybody waiting for hours on his pleas- 
 ure or caprice. This testimony is beyond suspicion, and it 
 is confirmed by the opinions of his colleagues ; but it is certain 
 that he cut a very poor figure in Parliament all the time he was 
 in office before. 
 
 March zoth, Sir E. Sugden has resigned the chancellor- 
 ship of Ireland because his wife is not received at court. He 
 might have ascertained very easily beforehand what would 
 happen, or have contrived to keep her away from Dublin. It 
 was understood when he took the great seal that he declined 
 being made a peer, on account of the illegitimacy of his eldest 
 son. Half the world had never heard of Lady Sugden, or 
 knew anything of her history ; and as she is an excellent 
 woman, charitable and kind-hearted, I fancy she has moved 
 without obstruction in his natural circle of society. He went 
 to Ireland before any lord-lieutenant was named, and Lady 
 Sugden was received as a matter of course. When Lady 
 Haddington was apprised of her origin and history she fore- 
 saw the difficulty, and asked the Queen what she was to do. 
 Her Majesty told her to do what she pleased, but that cer- 
 tainly she could not be received at court here. The Lady- 
 lieutenant therefore was compelled to decline receiving her, 
 for all Ireland would have been affronted had she received at 
 the Castle a lady not presentable at St. James's. Sugden 
 was very angry, and his indignation arose principally, it 
 would seem, from Lady Canterbury's having been received 
 at court, which he considers (with some reason) as a case 
 equally flagrant. Her reception was a matter of bargain, I 
 forget at this moment on what occasion, and certainly a 
 strong measure. The talk is that James Parke will go to 
 Ireland, and Sugden return to the bar, which will be hard 
 upon those who had shared his vast business, especially on 
 the silk gown men. 
 
 March 2zd. A few nights ago Brougham was speaking 
 in the House of Lords (upon Lord Radnor's motion about
 
 298 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1835. 
 
 university oaths), and was attacking, or rather beginning to 
 attack, the Duke of Wellington in that tone of insolent sar- 
 casm which is so familiar to him, when in the midst of his 
 harangue the Duke from the opposite side lifted up his 
 finger, and said loud enough to be heard, " Now take care 
 what you say next." As if panic-struck, Brougham broke 
 off, and ran upon some other tack. The House is so narrow, 
 that lords can almost whisper to each other across it, and the 
 menacing action and words of the Duke reached Brougham at 
 once. This odd anecdote rests upon much concurrent evi- 
 dence. Alvanley told it to De Ros, and Lord Salisbury said 
 he was sitting close to the Duke, and witnessed it all. The 
 Chancellor afterwards confirmed it. 
 
 May \st. The last day of Parliament was distinguished 
 by a worse attack of O'Connell upon Alvanley for what he 
 had said the day before in the House of Lords. Alvanley 
 has sent him a message through Dawson Darner demand- 
 ing an apology or satisfaction, and the result I don't yet 
 know. 1 
 
 London, May ijth. Newmarket and gout have between 
 them produced an interval of unusual length in my scrib- 
 blings, though I am not aware of having had anything par- 
 ticularly interesting to record. We had Stanley at New- 
 market the second week as well as the first, taking a lively 
 interest in John Russell's defeat in Devonshire. This defeat 
 was a great mortification to his party, and was not com- 
 pensated by the easy victory which Morpeth obtained in 
 Yorkshire. These elections and the affair between Alvanley 
 and O'Connell have been the chief objects of attention ; all 
 the newspapers are full of details, which I need not put 
 down here. Alvanley seems to have behaved with great 
 spirit and resolution. There was a meeting at De Ros's 
 house of De Ros, Darner, Lord Worcester, and Duncombe 
 
 1 O'Connell had called Lord Alvanley a " bloated buffoon," and as usual took 
 refuge in his vow never to fight another duel. Upon this his son, Morgan O'Con- 
 nell, offered to meet Lord Alvanley in lieu of his father, which was accepted, and 
 the duel took place.
 
 I83S-] LORD ALVANLEY'S DUEL. 299 
 
 to consider what was to be done on the receipt of Morgan 
 O'Connell's letter, and whether Alvanley should fight him 
 or not. Worcester and Buncombe were against fighting, 
 the other two for it. Alvanley at once said that the boldest 
 course was the best, and he would go out. It was agreed 
 that no time should be lost, so Darner was dispatched to 
 Colonel Hodges, and said Alvanley was ready to meet Mor- 
 gan O'Connell. "The next morning," Hodges suggested. 
 " No, immediately." The parties joined in Arlington Street 
 and went off in two hackney coaches ; Duncombe, Worcester, 
 and De Ros, with Dr. Hume, in a third. Only Hume went on 
 the ground, for Darner had objected to the presence of some 
 Irish friend of O'Connell's, so that Alv^nley's friends could 
 only look on from a distance. The only other persons who 
 came near them were an old Irishwoman and a Methodist 
 parson, the latter of whom exhorted the combatants in vain 
 to forego their sinful purpose, and to whom Alvanley replied, 
 " Pray, sir, go and mind your own affairs, for I have enough 
 to do now to think of mine." " Think of your soul," he said. 
 " Yes," said Alvanley, " but my body is now in the greatest 
 danger." The Irishwoman would come and see the fighting, 
 and asked for some money for her attendance. Darner seems 
 to have been a very bad second, and probably lost his head ; 
 he ought not to have consented to the tMrd shots upon any 
 account. Alvanley says he execrated him in his heart when 
 he found he had consented to it. Hodges acted like a ruffian, 
 and had anything happened he would have been hanged. It 
 is impossible to know whether the first shot was fired by mis- 
 take or not. The impression on the minds of Alvanley's 
 friends is that it was not, but it is difficult to believe that any 
 man would endeavor to take such an advantage. However, 
 no shot ought to have been fired after that. The affair made 
 an amazing noise. As O'Connell had threatened to mention 
 it in the House of Commons, Darner went to Peel to put 
 him in possession of all the circumstances, but he said that 
 he was sure O'Connell would not venture to stir the matter 
 there.
 
 300 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1835. 
 
 May 3oM. On Wednesday last went to Charles Kemble's 
 in the evening; singing and playing; Mrs. Arkwright, Miss 
 Strutt, old Liverati (horrible squabbling), and Miss Adelaide 
 Kemble. The father and mother both occupied with their 
 daughter's book, which Kemble told me he had " never read 
 till it appeared in print, and was full of sublime things and 
 vulgarities," and the mother "was divided between admiration 
 and disgust, threw it down six times, and as often picked it 
 up." 
 
 June \<)(h. At Stoke for the Ascot races. Alvanley was 
 there nobody else remarkable ; fine weather and great 
 luxury. Riding to the course on Wednesday, I overtook 
 Adolphus Fitzclarence in the Park, who rode with me, and 
 gave me an account of his father's habits and present state of 
 mind. The former are as follows : He. sleeps in the same 
 room with the Queen, but in a separate bed ; at a quarter be- 
 fore eight every morning his valet de chambre knocks at the 
 door, and at ten minutes before eight exactly he gets out of 
 bed, puts on a flannel dressing-gown and trousers, and walks 
 into his dressing-room. Let who will be there, he never takes 
 the slightest notice of them till he emerges from this sanctu- 
 ary, when, like the malade imaginaire, he accosts whoever 
 may be present with a cheerful aspect. He is long at his ab- 
 lutions, and takes up an hour and a half in dressing. At 
 half-past nine he breakfasts with the Queen, the ladies, and 
 any of his family ; he eats a couple of fingers and drinks a 
 dish of coffee. After breakfast he reads the " Times " and 
 " Morning Post," commenting aloud on what he read in very 
 plain terms, and sometimes they hear " That 's a damned lie," 
 or some such remark, without knowing to what it applies. 
 After breakfast he devotes himself with Sir Herbert Taylor 
 to business till two, when he lunches (two cutlets and two 
 glasses of sherry) ; then he goes out for a drive till dinner 
 time ; at dinner he drinks a bottle of sherry no other wine 
 and eats moderately; he goes to bed soon after eleven. 
 He is in dreadfully low spirits, and cannot rally at all ; the 
 only interval of pleasure which he has lately had was during
 
 1835-] KING WILLIAM'S MANNERS. 301 
 
 the Devonshire election, when he was delighted at John Rus- 
 sell's defeat. He abhors all his ministers, even those whom 
 he used rather to like formerly, but hates Lord John the most 
 of all. When Adolphus told him that a dinner ought to be 
 given for the Ascot races he said, " You know I cannot give 
 a dinner ; I cannot give any dinners without inviting the min- 
 isters, and I would rather see the devil than any one of them 
 in my house." I asked him how he was with them in his in- 
 evitable official relations. He said that he had as little to do 
 with them as he could, and bowed them out when he gave 
 any of them audiences as fast as possible. He is peculiarly 
 disgusted with Errol, for whom he has done so much, and 
 who has behaved so ungratefully to him ; but it is a good trait 
 of him that he said "he hoped the world would not accuse 
 Errol of ingratitude." He did not invite Errol to the Castle 
 even for the Ascot races, and has seen little or nothing of him 
 since the change. Adolphus said that he believed he was 
 saving money. He has I2o,ooo/. a year, of which 4o,ooo/. 
 goes in pensions ; the rest is at his own disposal. He gives 
 up his Hanoverian revenue about i6,ooo/. a year to the 
 Duke of Cambridge. 
 
 July i$t/i. Tavistock told me a day or two ago that his 
 Majesty's ministers are intolerably disgusted at his behavior 
 to them and his studied incivility to everybody connected with 
 them. The other day the Speaker was treated by him with 
 shocking rudeness at the drawing-room. He not only took 
 no notice of him, but studiously overlooked him while he was 
 standing opposite, and called up Manners Sutton and some- 
 body else to mark the difference by extreme graciousness to 
 the latter. Seymour, who was with him as Serjeant-at-arms, 
 said he had never seen a speaker so used in the five-and- 
 twenty years he had been there, and that it was most painful. 
 The Speaker asked him if he had ever seen a man in his sit- 
 uation so received at court. Since he has been speaker the 
 King has never taken the slightest notice of him. It is mon- 
 strous, equally undignified and foolish. 
 
 August 9//;. On Wednesday last at the levee the King
 
 302 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1835. 
 
 made a scene with Lord Torrington, one of his lords of the 
 bedchamber, and a very disgraceful scene. A card was put 
 into Torrington's hands of somebody who was presented, 
 which he read, " So and so, Deputy-governor" " Deputy- 
 governor ? " said the King, " Deputy-governor of what ? " "I 
 cannot tell your Majesty," replied Torrington, " as it is not 
 upon the card." " Hold your tongue, sir," said the King ; 
 " you had better go home and learn to read ; " and shortly 
 after, when some bishop presented an address against (I be- 
 lieve) the Irish Tithe Bill, and the King was going as usual to 
 hand over the papers to the lord in waiting, he stopped and 
 said to Lord Torrington, who advanced to take them, " No, 
 Lord Torrington ; these are not fit documents to be intrusted 
 to your keeping." His habitual state of excitement will prob- 
 ably bring on sooner or later the malady of his family. Tor- 
 rington is a young man in a difficult position, or he ought to 
 have resigned instantly and as publicly as the insult was of- 
 fered. The King cannot bridle his temper, and lets slip no 
 opportunity of showing his dislike, impotent as it is, of the 
 people who surround him. He admits none but Tories into 
 his private society, wherever he goes Tories accompany him ; 
 at Windsor, Tories only are his guests. This provokes his 
 ministers, but it necessarily makes them more indifferent to 
 the cultivation of his favor, and accustoms them to consider 
 themselves as the ministers of the House of Commons and 
 not of the crown. 
 
 August -z^th. At Hillingdon from Saturday till Monday 
 last ; began the Life of Macintosh, and was delighted with 
 Sydney Smith's letter which is prefixed to it ; read and 
 walked all day on Sunday the two things I do least, namely, 
 exercise my mind and body ; therefore both grow gross and 
 heavy. Shakespeare says fat paunches make lean pates, but 
 this is taken from a Greek proverb. I admire this family of 
 Cox's at Hillingdon, and after casting my eyes in every direc- 
 tion, and thinking much and often of the theory of happiness, 
 I am convinced that it is principally to be found in contented 
 mediocrity, accompanied with an equable temperament and
 
 1835-] WHAT IS HAPPINESS? 303 
 
 warm though not excitable feelings. When I read such 
 books as Macintosh's Life, and see what other men have 
 done, how they have read and thought, a sort of despair comes 
 over me, a deep and bitter sensation of regret " for time mis- 
 spent and talents misapplied," not the less bitter from being 
 coupled with a hopelessness of remedial industry and of doing 
 better things. Nor do I know that such men as these were 
 happy ; that they possessed sources of enjoyment inaccessible 
 to less gifted minds is not to be doubted, but whether knowl- 
 edge and conscious ability and superiority generally bring 
 with them content of mind and the sunshine of self-satisfac- 
 tion to the possessors is anything but certain. I wonder the 
 inductive process has not been more systematically applied to 
 the solution of this great philosophical problem, what is hap- 
 piness, and in ivhat it consists, for the practical purpose of di- 
 recting the human mind into the right road for reaching this 
 goal of all human wishes. Why are not innumerable instances 
 collected, examined, analyzed, and the results expanded, ex- 
 plained, and reasoned upon for the benefit and instruction of 
 mankind ? Who can tell but what these results may lead at 
 last to some simple conclusions such as it requires no vast 
 range of intellect to discover, no subtle philosophy to teach 
 conclusions mortifying to the pride and vanity of man, but cal- 
 culated to mitigate the evils of life by softening mutual asperi- 
 ties, and by the establishment of the doctrine of humility, 
 from which all charity, forbearance, toleration, and benevo- 
 lence must flow as from their source ? These simple conclu- 
 sions may amount to no more than a simple maxim that hap- 
 piness is to be found " in the pursuit of truth and the practice 
 of virtue." 
 
 " Semita certe 
 Tranquillz per virtutem patet unica vitae." 
 
 The end of the tenth Satire of Juvenal (which is one of the 
 finest sermons that ever was composed, and worth all the 
 homilies of all the Fathers of the Church) teaches us what to 
 pray for 
 
 " Orandum est ut sit mens sana in corpore sano."
 
 304 THE GKEV1LLE MEMOIRS. [1835. 
 
 Healthy body, healthy appetite, healthy feelings, though ac- 
 companied by mediocrity of talent, unadorned with wit and 
 imagination, and unpolished by learning and science, will out- 
 strip in the race for happiness the splendid irregularities of 
 genius and the most dazzling successes of ambition. At the 
 same time this general view of the probabilities of happiness 
 must be qualified by the admission that mere vegetation 
 scarcely deserves the name of happiness, and that the highest 
 enjoyment which humanity is capable of may be said to con- 
 sist in the pleasures of reason and imagination of a mind 
 expatiating among the wonders of nature, and ranging through 
 all the " changes of many-colored life," without being shaken 
 from its equilibrium by the disturbing causes of jealousy, envy, 
 and the evil passions of our nature. The most galling of all 
 conditions is that of him whose conscience and consciousness 
 whisper to him perpetual reproaches, who reflects on what he 
 might have been and who feels and sees what he is. When 
 such a man as Macintosh, fraught with all learning, whose 
 mind, if not kindled into a steady blaze, is perpetually throw- 
 ing out sparks and coruscations of exceeding brightness, is 
 stung with these self-upbraidings, what must be the reflec- 
 tions of those, the utmost reach of whose industry is far below 
 the value of his most self-accused idleness, who have no self- 
 consolation, are plunged in entire darkness, and have not 
 only to lament the years of omission, but those of commission, 
 not only the opportunities neglected, but the positive mischief 
 done by the debasement of the faculties, the deterioration of 
 the understanding, the impairing of the power of exertion 
 consequent upon a long devotion to low, despicable, unprofit- 
 able habits and pursuits ? 
 
 Doncaster, September \^th. We dined at Burghley on the 
 way, and got here at two on Sunday ; read Macintosh's Life 
 in the carriage, which made me dreadfully disgusted with my 
 racing metier. What a life as compared with mine ! passed 
 among great and wise men, and intent on high thoughts and 
 honorable aspirations, existing amidst interests far more pun- 
 gent even than those which engage me, and of the futility of
 
 1835-] PRINCESS VICTORIA- AT BURGHLEY. 30$ 
 
 which I am forever reminded. I am struck with the coinci- 
 dence of the tastes and dispositions of Burke and Macintosh, 
 and of something in the mind of the one which bears an 
 affinity to that of the other ; but their characters how 
 different ! their abilities how unequal ! yet both, how supe- 
 rior, even the weakest of the two, to almost all other men, and 
 the success of each so little corresponding with his powers, 
 neither having ever attained any object of ambition beyond 
 that of fame. All their talents, therefore, and all their re- 
 quirements, did not procure them content, and probably 
 Burke was a very unhappy, and Macintosh not a very happy, 
 man. The suavity, the indolent temperament, the " mitts 
 sapientia" of Macintosh may have warded off sorrow and 
 mitigated disappointment, but the stern and vindictive ener- 
 gies of Burke must have kept up a storm of conflicting pas- 
 sions in his breast. But I turn from Macintosh and Burke to 
 all that is vilest and foolishest on earth, and among such I 
 now pass my unprofitable hours. There seems to me less 
 gayety and bustle here than formerly, but as much villainy as 
 ever. From want of money or of enterprise, or from greater 
 distrust and a paucity of spectators, there is very little betting, 
 and what there is, spiritless and dull. There are vast crowds 
 of people to see the Princess Victoria, who comes over from 
 Wentworth to-day, and the Due de Nemours is here. I am 
 going to run for the St. Leger, which I shall probably not win, 
 and though I am nervous and excited, I shall not care much 
 if I lose, and I doubt whether I should care very much if I 
 won ; but this latter sensation will probably be forever doubt- 
 ful. There is something in it all which displeases me, and I 
 often wish I was well out of it. 
 
 Burghley, September list. I did lose the St. Leger, and 
 did not care ; idled on at Doncaster to the end of the week, 
 and came here on Saturday to meet the Duchess of Kent. 
 They arrived from Belvoir at three o'clock in a heavy rain, the 
 civic authorities having turned out at Stamford to escort 
 them, and a procession of different people all very loyal. 
 When they had lunched, and the Mayor and his brethren
 
 306 THE GREV7LLE MEMOIRS. [1835. 
 
 had got dry, the Duchess received the address, which was 
 read by Lord Exeter as Recorder. It talked of the Princess 
 as " destined to mount the throne of these realms." Conroy 
 handed the answer, just as the Prime Minister does to the 
 King. They are splendidly lodged, and great preparations 
 have been made for their reception. 
 
 London, September -zjth. The dinner at Burghley was 
 very handsome ; hall well lit ; and all went off well, except 
 that a pail of ice was landed in the Duchess's lap, which 
 made a great bustle. Three hundred people at the ball, 
 which was opened by Lord Exeter and the Princess, who, 
 after dancing one dance, went to bed. They appeared at 
 breakfast the next morning at nine o'clock, and at ten set off 
 to Holkham. 
 
 I have finished Macintosh's Life with great delight, and 
 many painful sensations, together with wonder and amaze- 
 ment. His account of his reading is utterly incomprehensible 
 to me ; he must have been endowed with some superhuman 
 faculty of transferring the contents of books to his own mind. 
 He talks in his journals of reading volumes in a few hours 
 which would seem to demand many days even from the most 
 rapid reader. I have heard of Southey, who would read a 
 book through as he stood in a bookseller's shop ; that is, his 
 eye would glance down the page, and by a process partly me- 
 chanical, partly intellectual, formed by long habit, he would 
 extract in his synoptical passage all that he required to know. 
 (Macaulay was, and George Lewis is, just as wonderful in this 
 respect.) Some of the books that Macintosh talks of, philo- 
 sophical and metaphysical works, could not be so disposed of, 
 and I should like much to know what his system or his secret 
 was. I met Sydney Smith yesterday, and asked him why 
 more of the journals had not been given. He said because 
 the editors had been ill-advised, but that in another edition 
 more should be given; that Macintosh was the most agree- 
 able man he had ever known, that he had been shamefully 
 used by his friends, and by none more than by Brougham. 
 So, I said, it would appear by what you say in your letter.
 
 1835-1 SI # JAMES MACINTOSH. 307 
 
 " Oh, no," he said, laughing and chuckling, and shaking his 
 great belly, " you don't really think I meant to allude to 
 Brougham?" "Macintosh's son," he said, "is a man of no 
 talents, the composition (what there is of it) belongs to Er- 
 skine, his son-in-law, a sensible man." To be sure there are 
 some strange things said by Macintosh here and there ; 
 among others, that Lord Holland only wanted voice not to 
 be impeded in his utterance to be a greater orator than 
 Canning or Brougham ! If he had not been a man " whom 
 no sense of wrongs could rouse to vengeance," he would have 
 flung the India Board in Lord Grey's face when he was in- 
 sulted with the offer of it. 1 What are we to think of the 
 necessary connection between intellectual superiority and 
 official eminence, when we have seen the Duke of Richmond 
 invited to be a member of the Cabinet, while Macintosh was 
 thrust into an obscure and subordinate office Macintosh 
 placed under the orders of Charles Grant ! Well might he 
 regret that he had not been a professor, and, "with safer pride 
 content," adorned with unusual glory some academical chair. 
 Then while he was instructing and delighting the world, 
 there would have been many regrets and lamentations that 
 such mighty talents were confined to such a narrow sphere, 
 and innumerable speculations of the greatness he would have 
 achieved in political life, and how the irresistible force of his 
 genius and his eloquence must have raised him to the pinnacle 
 of Parliamentary fame and political power. Perhaps he 
 would have partaken in this delusion, and have bitterly 
 lamented the success which had deprived him of a more brill- 
 iant fortune and a loftier fame ; for it may reasonably be 
 doubted whether all his laborious investigations of the deep- 
 est recesses of the human mind, and his extensive acquaint- 
 ance with the theory of mental phenomena, would have en- 
 abled him accurately to ascertain the practical capabilities of 
 his own mind, and to arrive at those just conclusions which 
 should indicate to him that path of life on which it was most 
 
 1 Sir James Macintosh was a member of the Board of Control under Lord Grey's 
 government. He never held any other office in England.
 
 308 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1835. 
 
 expedient for him to travel, with reference to the strength of 
 his understanding, and the softness, not to say feebleness, of 
 his character. 
 
 December i6th. Dined with Sefton the day before yester- 
 day to meet the Hollands ; sat between Allen and Luttrell. 
 Melbourne was there in roaring spirits ; met me very cor- 
 dially, and after dinner said, " Well how are you ? I had a 
 great deal to say to you, but I forget what it is now." To 
 which I replied, " Oh, never mind now ; we are here to amuse 
 ourselves, and we won't talk of other things." I could not 
 have settled anything with him there, so there was no use in 
 beginning ; and this put him at his ease, instead of making 
 him hate the sight of me, and fancying wherever he met me 
 that I should begin badgering him about my affairs. 1 In the 
 world men must be dealt with according to what they are, and 
 not to what they ought to be; and the great art of life is to 
 find out what they are, and act with them accordingly. 
 
 Allen talked of Macintosh, and of his declaration of relig- 
 ious belief on his death-bed, when he had never believed at all 
 during his life. He said that Macintosh was not very deeply 
 read in theology. Melbourne, on the contrary, is, and being 
 a very good Greek scholar (which Macintosh was not), has 
 compared the Evidences and all modern theological works 
 with the writings of the Fathers. He did not believe that 
 Melbourne entertained any doubts, or that his mind was at all 
 distracted and perplexed with much thinking and much read- 
 ing on the subject, but that his studies and reflections have 
 led him to a perfect conviction of unbelief. 2 He thought if 
 Macintosh had lived much with Christians he would have 
 been one too. We talked of Middleton, and Allen said that 
 he believed he really died a Christian, but that he was rapidly 
 ceasing to be one, and if he had lived would probably have 
 
 1 This referred to some private affairs of Mr. Greville's which were then under 
 discussion, and on which Lord Melbourne's influence was important. 
 
 2 John Allen was himself so fierce an unbeliever, and so bitter an enemy to the 
 Christian religion, that he was very fond of asserting that other men believed as lit- 
 tle as himself. It was almost always Allen who gave an irreligious turn to the con- 
 versation at Holland House when these subjects were discussed there.
 
 1836.] PERCEVAL'S APOSTOLIC MISSION. 309 
 
 continued the argument of his free inquiry up to the Apostles 
 themselves. He urged me to read Lardner ; said he had 
 never read Paley nor the more recent Evidences, the materials 
 of all of which are, however, taken from Lardner's work. 
 Luttrell was talking of Moore and Rogers the poetry of the 
 former so licentious, that of the latter so pure ; much of its 
 popularity owing to its being so carefully weeded of every- 
 thing approaching to indelicacy : and the contrast between 
 the lives and the works of the two men the former a pat- 
 tern of conjugal and domestic regularity, the latter of all the 
 men he had ever known the greatest sensualist. 
 
 1836. 
 
 February \st. Howick gave me an account yesterday of 
 Spencer Perceval's communications to the ministers, and 
 other privy councilors. He called on Howick, who received 
 him very civilly. Perceval began, " You will probably be sur- 
 prised when you learn what has brought me here." Howick 
 bowed. " You are aware that God has been pleased in these 
 latter times to make especial communications of his will to 
 certain chosen instruments, in a language not intelligible to 
 those who hear it, nor always to those by whom it is uttered : 
 I am one of those instruments, to whom it has pleased the 
 Almighty to make known his will, and I am come to declare 
 to you, etc. ..." and then he went off in a rhapsody about 
 the degeneracy of the times, and the people falling off from 
 God. I asked him what Perceval seemed to be driving at, what 
 was his definite object ? He said it was not discoverable, but 
 that. from the printed paper which he had circulated to all 
 privy councilors (for to that body he appears to think that his 
 mission is addressed), in which he specifies all the great acts 
 of legislation for the last five years (beginning with the repeal 
 of the Test and Corporation Acts), as the evidences of a fall- 
 ing off from God, or as the causes of the divine anger, it may 
 perhaps be inferred that he means they should all be repealed. 
 It is a ridiculous and melancholy exposure. His different re- 
 ceptions by different people are amusing and characteristic.
 
 3IO THE GREl'ILLE MEMOIRS. [1836. 
 
 Howick listened to him with patient civility. Melbourne 
 argued with and cross-questioned him. He told him " that he 
 ought to have gone to the bishops rather than to him," to 
 which Perceval replied, that one of the brethren (Henry 
 Drummond) was gone to the Archbishop. Stanley turned 
 him out at once. As soon as he began he said, "There is no 
 use, Mr. Perceval, in going on this way with me. We had, 
 therefore, better put an end to the subject, and I wish you 
 good-morning." He went to Lord Holland, and Lady Hol- 
 land was with great difficulty persuaded to allow him to go and 
 receive the Apostles. She desired Lord John Russell (who 
 happened to be in the house) to go with him, but John begged 
 to be excused, alleging that he had already had his interview 
 and did not wish for another. So at last she let Lord Holland 
 be wheeled in, but ordered Edgar and Harold, the two pages, 
 to post themselves outside the door, and rush in if they heard 
 Lord Holland scream. Perceval has been with the King, and 
 went to Dray ton after Sir Robert Peel, but he complains that 
 he cannot catch the Duke of Wellington. 
 
 February ^d. I heard a great deal more about Perce- 
 val's proceedings, and those of his colleagues yesterday ; 
 they continue to visit the privy councilors. Lyndhurst told 
 me he had been with him for an hour, Lord Lansdowne the 
 same. When he gave Lord Lansdowne his book, as he 
 glanced over it, Perceval said, " I am aware it is not well 
 written ; the composition is not perfect, but I was not per- 
 mitted to alter it ; I was obliged to write it as I received it." 
 Drummond went in a chaise and four to the Archbishop of 
 York at Nuneham, who endeavored to stop his mouth with a 
 good luncheon, but this would not do. He told the Arch- 
 bishop the end of the world was approaching, and that it was 
 owing to the neglect of himself and his brethren that the 
 nation was in its present awful state. Perceval told Lord 
 Lansdowne that their sect was increasing greatly and rapidly ; 
 they have several congregations in London, two clergymen of 
 the Church of England have joined them, and two men who 
 still occupy their pulpits are only waiting for the call which 
 th^y daily expect to receive.
 
 1836.] LORD HOLLAND'S ANECDOTES. 311 
 
 February "jfh. Last night I went to Holland House ; 
 found my Lord and my Lady sitting tete-a-tete. About twelve 
 she went to bed, and Standish and I stayed with him till 
 two o'clock, hearing his accounts of speeches and speakers 
 of old times, and anecdotes, some of which I have heard be- 
 fore, and some not, but they bear repeating. He is marvel- 
 ously entertaining in this way ; the stories so good, so well 
 told, his imitations of the actors in the events which he nar- 
 rates giving you such a conviction of their fidelity. If Lord 
 Holland has prepared any memoirs, and put down all he re- 
 members, as well as all he has been personally concerned in, 
 it will make a delightful book. I asked him if his uncle and 
 Pitt were in habits of communication in the House of Com- 
 mons, and on terms of mutual civility and good-humor, and 
 he said, " Oh yes, very ; I think they had a great respect 
 for each other ; latterly I think my uncle was more bitter 
 against him " 1 inquired whether he thought they would 
 have joined ? He thought they might have done so. He 
 thinks the finest speeches Fox made (if it were possible to 
 select out of so many fine ones) were on the war, on the 
 scrutiny, and on Bonaparte's overtures. Grattan compli- 
 menting him on his speech on the war, he said, " I don't 
 know if it was good, but I know I can't make a better." 
 Fox never wrote his speeches, was fond of preparing them 
 in travelling, as he said a post-chaise was the best place to 
 arrange his thoughts in. Sheridan wrote and prepared a 
 great deal, and generally in bed, with his books, pen, and 
 ink, on the bed, where he would lie all day. Brougham 
 wrote and rewrote, over and over again, whole speeches ; 
 he has been known to work fifteen hours a ciay for six weeks 
 together. 
 
 February gth. I was talking yesterday with Stephen 
 about Brougham and Macaulay. He said he had known 
 Brougham above thirty years, and well remembers walking 
 with him down to Clapham, to dine with old Zachary Ma- 
 caulay, and telling him he would find a prodigy of a boy there 
 of whom he must take notice. This was Tom Macaulay.
 
 312 ////: GKKl'ILLK MEMOJKS. (1836. 
 
 Brougham afterwards put himself forward as the monitor and 
 director of the education of Macaulay, and I remember hear- 
 ing of a letter he wrote to the father on the subject, which 
 made a great noise at the time ; but he was like the man who 
 brought up a young lion, which finished by biting his head off. 
 Brougham and Macaulay disliked each other. Brougham 
 could not forgive his great superiority in many of those ac- 
 complishments in which he thought himself unrivaled ; and 
 being at no pains to disguise his jealousy and dislike, the 
 other was not behind him in corresponding feelings of aver- 
 sion. It was unworthy of both, but most of Brougham, who 
 was the aggressor, and who might have considered the world 
 large enough for both of them, and that a sufficiency of fame 
 was attainable by each. Stephen said that, if ever Macaulay's 
 life was written by a competent biographer, it would appear 
 that he had displayed feats of memory which he believed to 
 be unequaled by any human being. He can repeat all De- 
 mosthenes by heart, and all Milton, a great part of the Bible, 
 both in English and (the New Testament) in Greek ; besides 
 this his memory retains passages innumerable of every de- 
 scription of books, which in discussion he pours forth with 
 incredible facility. He is passionately fond of Greek liter- 
 ature ; has not much taste for Latin or French. Old Mill 
 (one of the best Greek scholars of the day) thinks Macaulay 
 has a more extensive and accurate acquaintance with the 
 Greek writers than any man living, and there is no Greek 
 book of any note which he has not read over and over again. 
 In the Bible he takes great delight, and there are few better 
 Biblical scholars. In law he made no proficiency, and math- 
 ematics he abominates ; but his great forte is history, espe- 
 cially English history. Here his superhuman memory, which 
 appears to have the faculty of digesting and arranging as well 
 as of retaining, has converted his mind into a mighty maga- 
 zine of knowledge, from which, with the precision and correct- 
 ness of a kind of intellectual machine, he pours forth stores 
 of learning, information, precept, example, anecdote, and illus- 
 tration with a familiarity and facility not less astonishing
 
 1836.] MACAULAY AND BROUGHAM. 313 
 
 than delightful. He writes as if he had lived in the times 
 and among the people whose actions and characters he 
 records and delineates. A little reading, too, is enough for 
 Macaulay, for by some process impossible to other men he 
 contrives to transfer as it were, by an impression rapid and 
 indelible, the contents of the books he reads to his own 
 mind, where they are deposited, always accessible, and never 
 either forgotten or confused. Far superior to Brougham in 
 general knowledge, in fancy, imagination, and in the art of 
 composition, he is greatly inferior to him in those qualities 
 which raise men to social and political eminence. Brougham, 
 tall, thin, and commanding in figure, with a face which, 
 however ugly, is full of expression, and a voice of great 
 power, variety, and even melody, notwithstanding his occa- 
 sional prolixity and tediousness, is an orator in every sense 
 of the word. Macaulay, short, fat, and ungraceful, with a 
 round, thick, unmeaning face, and with rather a lisp, though 
 he has made speeches of great merit, and of a very high 
 style of eloquence in point of composition, has no pretensions 
 to be put in competition with Brougham in the House of 
 Commons. Nor is the difference and the inferiority of 
 Macaulay less marked in society. Macaulay, indeed, is a 
 great talker, and pours forth floods of knowledge on all 
 subjects ; but the gracefulness, lightness, and variety are 
 wanting in his talk which are so conspicuous in his writings ; 
 there is not enough of alloy in the metal of his conversation ; 
 it is too didactic, it is all too good, and not sufficiently flex- 
 ible, plastic, and diversified for general society. Brougham, 
 on the other hand, is all life, spirit, and gayety "from grave 
 to gay, from lively to severe " dashing through every de- 
 scription of folly and fun, dealing in those rapid transitions 
 by which the attention and imagination are arrested and 
 excited ; always amusing, always instructive, never tedious, 
 elevated to the height of the greatest intellect, and familiar 
 with the most abstruse subjects, and at the same moment 
 conciliating the humble pretensions of inferior minds by 
 dropping into the midst of their pursuits and objects with
 
 314 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1836. 
 
 a fervor and intensity of interest which surprises and de- 
 lights his associates, and, above all, which puts them at their 
 ease. 
 
 [Quantum mntatus! All this has long ceased to be true 
 of Brougham. Macaulay, without having either the wit or the 
 charm which constitutes the highest kind of colloquial excel- 
 lence or success, is a marvelous, an unrivaled (in his way), 
 and a delightful talker. 1850.] 
 
 March 8M. I met Moore l at dinner a day or two ago, 
 not having seen him for a long time. He told us some amus- 
 ing anecdotes of his own reception in Ireland, which was very 
 enthusiastic, in spite of his having quarreled with O'Connell. 
 Of this quarrel he likewise narrated the beginning and the 
 end. He was indignant at O'Connell's manner of prosecut- 
 ing his political objects, and resolved to put his feelings on 
 record. This he did, and he afterwards wrote some letters to 
 a mutual friend explanatory of his sentiments and motives, 
 and these were shown (intentionally) to O'Connell. Moore 
 declined to retract or qualify, and a rupture consequently took 
 place. When they met at Brookes's O'Connell averted his 
 face. So things remained till a short time ago, when the 
 editor of a new quarterly review, which has been established 
 for Catholic and Irish objects, wrote to Moore for his support, 
 and O'Connell, whom he told of it, said, " Oh, pray let me 
 frank the letter to Mr. Moore." This was repeated, and when 
 Moore met O'Connell the other day at Brookes's, he went up 
 to him and put out his hand. He said O'Connell was mightily 
 moved, but accepted the proffered reconciliation, and they are 
 again on good terms. 
 
 May nth. Great talk about the adjournment of Parlia- 
 ment on the 2oth, and about Melbourne's affair with Mrs. 
 Norton, which latter, if it is not quashed, will be inconvenient. 
 John Bull fancies himself vastly moral, and the court is 
 mighty prudish, and between them our off-hand Premier will 
 find himself in a ticklish position. He has been served with 
 notices, but people rather doubt the action coming on. I 
 
 1 Thomas Moore, the poet
 
 1836.] LORD MELBOURNE'S TRIAL. 315 
 
 asked the Duke of Wellington a night or two ago what he 
 had heard of it, and what he thought would be the result. He 
 said he had only heard what everybody said, and that nothing 
 would result. I said, " Would Melbourne resign ? " " O Lord 
 no ! Resign ? Not a bit of it. I tell you all these things are 
 a nine-days' wonder ; it can't come into court before Parlia- 
 ment is up. People will have done talking of it before that 
 happens ; it will all blow over, and won't signify a straw." So 
 spoke his Grace. I doubt not prime ministers, ex and in, 
 have a fellow-feeling and sympathy for each other, and like to 
 lay down the principle of such things not mattering. I hope, 
 however, that it will blow over, for it would really be very in- 
 convenient and very mischievous. The Tories would fall on 
 the individual from political violence, the Radicals on his class 
 or order from hatred to the aristocracy. 
 
 May 2$t/i. Lord Melbourne's affair after all is likely to come 
 before a court of law. He is very much annoyed at it, and so 
 are his relations, but nobody expects him to resign. The 
 Low Tories, the herd, exult at this misfortune, and find a mo- 
 tive for petty political gratification in it, but not so the Duke of 
 Wellington or any of them who are above the miserable feel- 
 ings of party spite. I am sorry for it, because it is a bad 
 thing to see men in high places dragged through the mire. 
 
 June 27th. The town has been full of Melbourne's trial ; 
 great exultation at the result on the part of his political ad- 
 herents, great disappointment on that of the mob of Low 
 Tories, and a creditable satisfaction among the better sort ; 
 it was in point of fact a very triumphant acquittal. The 
 wonder is how with such a case Norton's family ventured into 
 court, but (although it is stoutly denied) there can be no doubt 
 that old Wynford was at the bottom of it all, and persuaded 
 Lord Grantley to urge it on for mere political purposes. 
 There is pretty conclusive evidence of this. Fletcher Norton, 
 who was examined on the trial, is staying in town with a Mr. 
 Lowe, a Nottinghamshire parson, and Denison, who is Nor- 
 
 1 The trial of the cause Norton v. Lord Melbourne, which ended in a verdict for 
 the defendant.
 
 316 THE GREV1LLE MEMOIRS. [1836. 
 
 ton's neighbor, called on him the other day ; Denison talked 
 to Lowe, who told him that Fletcher Norton had shown him 
 the case on which they were going to proceed, and that he 
 had told him he thought it was a very weak one, to which he 
 had replied so did he, but he believed they expected it would 
 produce a very important political effect. The King behaved 
 very civilly about it, and expressed his satisfaction at the re- 
 sult in terms sufficiently flattering to Melbourne. 
 
 August \T,th. His Majesty was pleased to be very face- 
 tious at the council the other day, though not very refined. 
 A new seal for the Cape of Good Hope was approved, and 
 the impression represented a Caffre, with some ornaments on 
 his head which resembled horns. The King asked Lord 
 Glenelg what these horns meant, but Glenelg referred his 
 Majesty to Poulett Thomson, to whom he said, " Well, Mr. 
 Thomson, what do you say to this ? I know you are a man of 
 gallantry, but if you choose to be represented with a pair of 
 horns I am sure I have no objection ; " at which sally their 
 lordships laughed, as in duty bound. 
 
 August 3O/^. At Hillingdon from Saturday to Monday. 
 There were great festivities at Windsor during the Egham 
 race week, when the King's daughter, Lady Augusta, was 
 married at the Castle. 1 It was remarked that on the King's 
 birthday not one of the ministers was invited to the Castle, 
 and none except the household in any way connected with 
 the government. At the Queen's birthday a short time be- 
 fore not one individual of that party was present. Nothing 
 can be more undisguised than the King's aversion to his min- 
 isters, and he seems resolved to intimate that his compulsory 
 reception of them shall not extend to his society, and that 
 though he can't help seeing them at St. James's, the gates of 
 Windsor are shut against them. All his habitual guests are 
 of the Tory party, and generally those who have distinguished 
 
 1 Lady Augusta Fitzclarence, fourth daughter of King William IV. by Mrs. Jor- 
 dan, married first, on the 5th if July, 1827, to the Hon. John Kennedy Erskine, and 
 secondly, on the z6th of August, 1836, to Lord John Frederick Gordon. She died 
 1865.
 
 1836.] RUDENESS OF THE KING, 317 
 
 themselves by their violence or are noted for their extreme 
 opinions Winchelsea and Wharncliffe. for example, of the 
 former, and the Duke of Dorset of the latter sort. At the 
 dinner on his birthday the King gave the Princess Victoria's 
 health rather well. Having given the Princess Augusta's he 
 said, " And now, having given the health of the oldest, I will 
 give that of the youngest member of the royal family. I 
 know the interest which the public feel about her; and al- 
 though / have not seen so much of her as I could have wished, 
 I take no less interest in her, and the more I do see of her, 
 both in public and in private, the greatei pleasure it will give 
 me." The whole thing was so civil and gracious that it could 
 hardly be taken ill, but the young Princess sat opposite, and 
 hung her head with not unnatural modesty at being thus 
 talked of in so large a company. 
 
 September 2lst. To-day we had a council, the first since 
 Parliament was prorogued, when his most gracious Majesty 
 behaved most ungraciously to his confidential servants, whom 
 he certainly does not delight to honor. The last article on 
 the list was a petition of Admiral Sartorius praying to be re- 
 stored to his rank, and when this was read the King, after re- 
 peating the usual form of words, added, "And must be granted. 
 As Captain Napier was restored, so must this gentleman be, 
 for there was this difference between their cases ; Admiral 
 Napier knew he was doing wrong, which Admiral Sartorius 
 was not aware of." Lord Minto said, " I believe, sir, there 
 was not so much difference between the two cases as your 
 Majesty imagines, for Admiral Sartorius " Then followed 
 something which I could not catch, but the King did, for he 
 said with considerable asperity, " Unless your lordship is 
 quite sure of that, I must beg leave to say that I differ from 
 you and do not believe it to be so, but since you have ex- 
 pressed your belief that it is so, I desire you will furnish me 
 with proofs of it immediately. The next time I see you you 
 will be prepared with the proofs of what you say, for unless I 
 see them I shall not believe one word of it." Minto made no 
 reply to this extraordinary sortie, and the rest looked at each 
 other in silence.
 
 318 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1836. 
 
 This, however, was nothing compared with what took place 
 at Windsor with the Duchess of Kent, of which I heard some- 
 thing a long time ago (August 3Oth), but never the particulars 
 till last night. It is very remarkable that the thing has not 
 been more talked about. The King invited the Duchess of 
 Kent to go to Windsor on the 1 2th of August to celebrate the 
 Queen's birthday (i3th), and to stay there over his own birth- 
 day, which was to be kept (privately) on the 2ist (the real day, 
 but falling on Sunday), m&publicly the day following. She sent 
 word that she wanted to keep her own birthday at Claremont 
 on the 1 5th (or whatever the day is), took no notice of the 
 Queen's birthday, but said she would go to Windsor on the 
 2oth. This put the King in a fury; he made, however, no 
 reply, and on the 2oth he was in town to prorogue Parliament, 
 having desired that they would not wait dinner for him at 
 Windsor. After the prorogation he went to Kensington Palace 
 to look about it ; when he got there he found that the Duchess 
 of Kent had appropriated to her own use a suite of apart- 
 ments, seventeen in number, for which she had applied last 
 year, and which he had refused to let her have. This in- 
 creased his ill-humor, already excessive. When he arrived at 
 Windsor and went into the drawing-room (at about ten o'clock 
 at night), where the whole party was assembled, he went up 
 to the Princess Victoria, took hold of both her hands, and ex- 
 pressed his pleasure at seeing her there and his regret at not 
 seeing her oftener. He then turned to the Duchess and made 
 her a low bow, almost immediately after which he said that " a 
 most unwarrantable liberty had been taken with one of his 
 palaces ; that he had just come from Kensington, where he 
 found apartments had been taken possession of not only with- 
 out his consent, but contrary to his commands, and that he 
 neither understood nor would endure conduct so disrespectful 
 to him." This was said loudly, publicly, and in a tone of 
 serious displeasure. It was however, only the muttering of 
 the storm which was to break the next day. Adolphus Fitz- 
 clarence went into his room on Sunday morning, and found 
 him in a state of great excitement. It was his birthday, and
 
 1836.] AN EXTRAORDINARY SPEECH. 319 
 
 though the celebration was what was called private, there were 
 a hundred people at dinner, either belonging to the court or 
 from the neighborhood. The Duchess of Kent sat on one 
 side of the Kingand one of his sisters on the other, the 
 Princess Victoria opposite. Adolphus Fitzclarence sat two or 
 three from the Duchess and heard every word of what passed. 
 After dinner, by the Queen's desire, " His Majesty's health, 
 and long life to him " was given, and as soon as it was drunk 
 he made a very long speech, in the course of which he poured 
 forth the following extraordinary and foudroyante tirade : " I 
 trust in God that my life may be spared for nine months 
 longer, after which period, in the event of my death, no re- 
 gency would take place. I should then have the satisfaction 
 of leaving the royal authority to the personal exercise of that 
 young lady (pointing to the Princess), the heiress presumptive 
 of the crown, and not in the hands of a person now near me, 
 who is surrounded by evil advisers, and who is herself in- 
 competent to act with propriety in the station in which she 
 would be placed. I have no hesitation in saying that I have 
 been insulted grossly and continually insulted by that per- 
 son, but I am determined to endure no longer a course of be- 
 havior so disrespectful to me. Amongst many other things 
 I have particularly to complain of the manner in which that 
 young lady has been kept away from my court ; she has been 
 repeatedly kept from my drawing-rooms, at which she ought 
 always to have been present, but I am fully resolved that this 
 shall not happen again. I would have her know that I am 
 King, and I am determined to make my authority respected, 
 and for the future I shall insist and command that the Prin- 
 cess do upon all occasions appear at my court, as it is her 
 duty to do." He terminated his speech by an allusion to the 
 Princess and her future reign in a tone of paternal interest and 
 affection, which was excellent in its way. 
 
 This awful philippic (with a great deal more which I forget) 
 was uttered with a loud voice and excited manner. The Queen 
 looked in deep distress, the Princess burst into tears, .and 
 the whole company were aghast. The Duchess of Kent said
 
 320 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. 11836. 
 
 not a word. Immediately after they rose and retired, and a 
 terrible scene ensued ; the Duchess announced her immediate 
 departure and ordered her carriage, but a sort of reconcilia- 
 tion was patched up, and she was prevailed upon to stay till 
 the next day. The following morning, when the King saw 
 Adolphus, he asked him what people said to his speech. He 
 replied that they thought the Duchess of Kent merited his 
 rebuke, but that it ought not to have been given there ; that 
 he ought to have sent for her into his closet, and have said 
 all that he felt and thought there, but not at table before a 
 hundred people. He replied that he did not care where he said 
 it or before whom, that " by God he had been insulted by her 
 in a measure that was past all endurance, and he would not 
 stand it any longer." 
 
 Nothing can be more unaccountable than the Duchess of 
 Kent's behavior to the King, nothing more reprehensible ; 
 but his behavior to her has always been as injudicious and 
 undignified as possible, and this last sortie was monstrous. It 
 was his duty and his right to send for her, and signify to her 
 both his displeasure at the past, and his commands for the 
 future ; but such a gross and public insult offered to her at his 
 own table, sitting by his side and in the presence of her 
 daughter, admits of no excuse. It was an unparalleled out- 
 rage from a man to a woman, from a host to his guest, and to 
 the last degree unbecoming the station they both of them fill. 
 He has never had the firmness and decision of character a 
 due display of which would have obviated the necessity of 
 such bickerings, and his passion leads him to these indecent 
 exhibitions, which have not the effect of correcting, and can- 
 not fail to have that of exasperating her, and rendering their 
 mutual relations more hopelessly disagreeable. 
 
 November 7th. At Buckenham I met Adolphus Fitzclar- 
 ence, who told me over again the particulars of the scene with 
 the Duchess of Kent, which did not differ materially from 
 what I have put down. He added one item, that the day fol- 
 lowing the Queen was not ready for dinner, and when dinner 
 was announced and he was waiting he asked, " Where 's the
 
 1836.] ESTERHAZY'S CONVERSATION. $21 
 
 Queen ? " They told him she was waiting for the Duchess of 
 Kent, when he said loud enough for everybody to hear, " That 
 woman is a nuisance." He was very angrv at King Leopold's 
 coming here, received him very coldly at Windsor, had no con- 
 versation with him on business, and on one occasion exhibited 
 a rudeness even to brutality. It seems he hates water-drink- 
 ers ; God knows why. One day at dinner Leopold called for 
 water, when the King asked, " What's that you are drinking, 
 sir ? " " Water, sir." " God damn it ! " rejoined the other 
 King ; " why don't you drink wine ? I never allow anybody 
 to drink water at my table." Leopold only dined there, and 
 went away in the evening. All this is very miserable and dis- 
 graceful. 
 
 November 8//z. I dined on Sunday with Cunningham, and 
 met Prince Esterhazy, with whom I had a long conversation. 
 He talked a great deal about the state of Europe, of the bick- 
 erings between Palmerston and Louis Philippe on the Spanish 
 question, between England and Russia in the East, and of the 
 position of Austria in the midst of it all ; that he had con- 
 versed often and at great length with the Emperor of Russia 
 at Prague and with Louis Philippe at Paris, both having 
 talked in the most open manner, and that he was endeavor- 
 ing (he thought successfully) to bring Palmerston to an amica- 
 ble tone and feeling, and to effect some sort of compromise 
 with respect to the debated points. Both sovereigns have the 
 same desire to avoid war, and Louis Philippe told him that 
 his object was " de rendre la guerre impossible" that no 
 power could be so much interested as Austria was in restrain- 
 ing the power and ambition of Russia within reasonable 
 bounds, 'and that the Emperor had held the most moderate 
 language, as he believed with sincerity ; that our prejudices 
 against Russia were unreasonably violent, and they arose in 
 some degree from mortification at our own misconduct in let- 
 ting opportunities slip out of our hands, and throwing advan- 
 tages and influence into those of Russia, which we were now 
 angry that she availed herself of ; but that if we continued to 
 act frankly and firmly in conjunction with Austria and France
 
 522 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1836. 
 
 (France and Austria being perfectly agreed), we should have 
 nothing to fear from Russia. They (the northern powers) 
 were content that we should exercise an especial influence in 
 the Peninsula ; they were aware that these questions were the 
 peculiar concern and interest of France and England, and 
 they did not want to interfere. But for the escape of Don 
 Carlos, which altered the aspect of affairs in Spain, and some 
 trifling points of etiquette which might easily have been ad- 
 justed, the Spanish question would have been settled among 
 the powers long ago, and the Queen recognized by them all. 
 He said that for a long time past the affairs of Europe had 
 been extensively influenced by personal feelings and individ- 
 ual interests and passions, greatly so on Palmerston's own 
 part and very much during the embassy of the Lievens, Mad- 
 ame de Lieven having been so much influenced by partisan- 
 ship and by her fluctuating friendships and connections. The 
 Emperor told Esterhazy that it was impossible for him to 
 leave Lieven there, that he was not represented by him as he 
 ought to be, that they in some respects fell short of, and in 
 others went beyond, the line which their duty and his inter- 
 ests demanded. He said that the Emperor Nicholas was a 
 very remarkable man absolute master, his own minister, and 
 under no other influence whatever that his perceptions were 
 just and his ideas remarkably clear, although his views were 
 not very extensive, and the circle within which these ideas 
 ranged was limited, Nesselrode not having a particle of influ- 
 ence ; his ministers and ambassadors were clerks ; and while 
 his ease and affability to foreigners (to him Esterhazy in 
 particular) were excessively striking, he treated his Russians 
 with a loftiness that could not be conceived, and one and all 
 trembled in his presence with the crouching humility of 
 slaves. When he was at Prague he on a sudden set off and 
 travelled with amazing rapidity to Vienna, without giving any 
 notice to anybody. His object was to visit the Dowager Em- 
 press and the tomb of the late Emperor. He alighted at Ta- 
 tischef's (his ambassador's), where, as soon as his arrival was 
 known, the Russian ladies who were at Vienna full-dressed
 
 1836.] ESTERHAZyS CONVERSATION. 323 
 
 themselves and hurried off to pay their devoirs. They were 
 met in all their diamonds and feathers on the staircase by 
 Benkendorf, who said, " Allez-vous en bien vite ; 1'Empereur 
 ne veut pas voir une seule de vous," and they were obliged to 
 bustle back with as much alacrity as they had come. Though 
 the best understanding prevailed between the French and 
 Austrian governments, and the latter is cordially allied with 
 Louis Philippe, there is some sourness and disappointment 
 at the failure of the project of marriage with which the Duke 
 of Orleans went to Vienna. Esterhazy said that it had failed 
 in great measure through an imprudent precipitation ; that the 
 Duke had given universal satisfaction, but there were great 
 prejudices to surmount, and the recollection of Marie Antoin- 
 ette and Marie Louise. He thought the advantages of the 
 match were overrated at Paris, but they were so anxious for it 
 there that the disappointment was considerable ; he said he 
 thought that it might still be brought about. These are the 
 few fragments I have retained from the talk we had. 
 
 November \~jih. I have had two other conversations with 
 Esterhazy at different times. He went to Brighton and saw 
 the King, whom he thought much baisse, but I do not know 
 whether it is a proof of it that he could not prevail upon his 
 Majesty to enter upon foreign politics with him. He repeated 
 to me what he had said before of the necessity of a strict and 
 cordial union between Austria and England, and the disposi- 
 tion of the former not to contest our supremacy and influence 
 in the Peninsula, but he harps upon the mode of doing this, 
 which I don't quite understand. I gathered from him, and 
 have heard from other quarters, that Metternich's influence is 
 much diminished, and that the Austrian Cabinet is no longer 
 ruled by him as heretofore, and that there is not the same 
 union ; but there would appear to be a very complete union 
 in the Austrian Imperial family, who cling together from a 
 sense of their common interest, and in great measure from 
 the respect and attachment which they all feel for the mem- 
 ory of the late Emperor. Esterhazy said it was remarkable 
 considering the condition of the Imperial House the Em-
 
 324 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1836. 
 
 peror 1 in a state bordering on idiocy, not likely to live above 
 four or five years at the outside, and his uncles all men of tal- 
 ent and energy ; the next heir, the brother of the Emperor, 8 
 is a man of competent sense, but the late Emperor's brothers 
 he describes to be all superior men. 
 
 He told me a great deal about the Duke of Reichstadt, who, 
 if he had lived, would have probably played a great part in the 
 world. He died of a premature decay, brought on apparently 
 by over-exertion and over-excitement ; his talents were very 
 conspicuous, he was pttri d'ambition, worshiped the memory 
 of his father, and for that reason never liked his mother ; his 
 thoughts were incessantly turned towards France, and when 
 he heard of the days of July he said, " Why was I not there 
 to take my chance ? " He evinced great affection and grati- 
 tude to his grandfather, who, while he scrupulously observed 
 all his obligations towards Louis Philippe, could not help feel- 
 ing a secret pride in the aspiring genius and ambition of Na- 
 poleon's son. He was well educated, and day and night 
 pored over the history of his father's glorious career. He de- 
 lighted in military exercises, and not only shone at the head 
 of his regiment, but had already acquired the hereditary art of 
 ingratiating himself with the soldiers. Esterhazy told me one 
 anecdote in particular, which shows the absorbing passion of 
 his soul overpowering the usual propensities of his age. He 
 was to make his first appearance in public at a bull at Lady 
 Cowley's (to which he had shown great anxiety to go), and 
 was burning with impatience to amuse himself with dancing 
 and flirting with the beauties he had admired in the Prater. 
 He went, but there he met two French marshals Marmont 
 and Maison. He had no eyes or ears but for them ; from 
 nine in the evening to five the next morning he devoted him- 
 self to these marshals, and conversed with them without ceas- 
 ing. Though he knew well enough all the odium that at- 
 
 1 The Emperor Ferdinand, here described, filled the throne until 1848, when he 
 abdicated in the great convulsion of that year ; he spent the rest of his life in retire- 
 ment at Prague, but he survived this prediction nearly forty years. 
 
 3 The Archduke Franz Joseph, father of the present Emperor. But this arch- 
 duke never filled the throne.
 
 1837.] LORD L YNDHURST IN PARIS. 325 
 
 tached to Marmont, he said to him that he was too happy to 
 have the opportunity of making the acquaintance of one who 
 had been among his father's earliest companions, and who 
 could tell him so many interesting details of his earlier days. 
 Marmont subsequently either did give or was to have given 
 him lessons in strategy. 
 
 1837- 
 
 Parts, Jatmary iqth. On Tuesday went about visiting ; 
 found nobody but Madame Alfred de Noailles and Raikes ; 
 was to have gone to the Chamber, but the ticket did not ar- 
 rive in time ; dined at the Embassy. Wednesday, in the 
 morning, to the gallery of the Louvre ; dined with Talleyrand ; 
 to Madame de Lieven's and Madame Graham's. Talleyrand 
 as well as ever, except weaker on his legs ; asked me to dine 
 there whenever I was not engaged. In the morning called at 
 the Tuileries. and left a note for the Duke of Orleans's aide-de- 
 camp, asking to be presented to his Royal Highness ; and at 
 night my mother went to court, and begged leave to bring me 
 there to present me to the royal family. Lyndhurst sets off 
 to London this morning, and I had only an opportunity of ex- 
 changing a few words with him. He told me he had never 
 passed such an agreeable time as the last four months ; not a 
 moment of ennui; had become acquainted with a host of re- 
 markable people of all sorts, political characters of all parties, 
 and the litterateurs, such as Victor Hugo, Balzac, etc., the 
 latter of whom, he says, is a very agreeable man. He told me 
 that " Le Pere Goriot " is a true story, and that since its publi- 
 cation he had become acquainted with some more circum- 
 stances which would have made it still more striking. He 
 has been leading here " une vie de gar^on and making himself 
 rather ridiculous in some respects. He said to me, " I sup- 
 pose the government will get on ; I 'm sure I shall not go on 
 in the House of Lords this year as I did the last. I was in- 
 duced by circumstances and some little excitement to take a 
 more prominent part than usual last session ; but I don't see 
 what I got by it except abuse. I thought I should not hear
 
 326 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1837. 
 
 any of the abuse thit was poured upon me when I came here, 
 and got out of the reach of the English newspapers, but, on the 
 contrary, I find it all concentrated in Galignani." Lyndhurst 
 and Ellice have been great friends here. Madame de Lieven 
 seems to have a very agreeable position at Paris. She 
 receives every night, and opens her house to all comers. 
 Being neutral ground, men of all parties meet there, and some 
 of the most violent antagonists have occasionally joined in 
 amicable and curious discussion. It is probably convenient 
 to her court that she should be here under such circum- 
 stances, for a woman of her talents cannot fail to pick up a 
 good deal of interesting, and perhaps useful, information ; and 
 as she is not subject to the operation of the same passions and 
 prejudices which complicated and disturbed her position in 
 England, she is able to form a juster estimate of the charac- 
 ters and the objects of public men. She says Paris is a very 
 agreeable place to live at, but expresses an unbounded con- 
 tempt for the French character, and her lively sense of the 
 moral superiority of England. I asked her who were the men 
 whom she was best inclined to praise. She likes Mole', as 
 pleasing, intelligent, and gentlemanlike ; Thiers the most 
 brilliant, very lively and amusing ; Guizot and Berryer, both 
 very remarkable. She talked freely enough of Ellice, who is 
 her dear friend, and from whom she draws all she can of 
 English politics ; that he had come here for the purpose of 
 intriguing against the present government, and trying to set 
 up Thiers again, and that he had fancied he should manage it. 
 Mole 1 was fully aware of it, and felt towards him accordingly. 
 Lord Granville, who was attached to the Due de Broglie, and 
 therefore violently opposed to Thiers when he became minis- 
 ter, soon became even more partial to Thiers, which sudden 
 turn was the more curious, because such had been their origi- 
 
 1 M. Mote was then prime minister. The overthrow of M. Thiers on the Span- 
 ish question had been regarded as a check by the English government, and Mr. El- 
 lice was a cordial friend and supporter of Thiers. The resentment of Lord Pal- 
 merston at the refusal of the King to support the cause of the Queen in Spain by a 
 direct intervention, was the commencement of a coolness which led eventually to 
 most important results.
 
 1837-] PRESENTATION AT THE TUILERIES. 327 
 
 nal antipathy that Lady Granville had been personally uncivil 
 to Madame Thiers, so much so that Thiers had said to Mad- 
 ame de Lieven, that " he would have her to know it was not 
 to be endured that an ambassadress should behave with such 
 marked incivility to the wife of the Prime Minister, and if she 
 chose to continue so to do she might get her husband sent 
 away." The other replied, " Monsieur Thiers, if you say this 
 to me with the intention of its being repeated to Lady Gran- 
 ville, I tell you you must go elsewhere for the purpose, for I 
 do not intend to do so." I asked her whether it had been re- 
 peated, and she said she thought probably it had been 
 through Ellice, for soon after all was smiles and civility be- 
 tween them. She talked a great deal about England, and of 
 the ignorance of the French about it ; that Mole", for example, 
 had said, " It is true that we are not in an agreeable state, but 
 England is in a still worse." The King, however, is of a dif- 
 ferent opinion, and appears better to understand the nature of 
 our system. She described him (Mole") as not the cleverest 
 and most brilliant, but by far the most sensible, sound, and 
 well-judging man of them all. 
 
 January 2$tk. On the 24th I walked about Paris, dined 
 at the Embassy, and went to court at night ; above fifty Eng- 
 lish, forty Americans, and several other foreigners were pre- 
 sented. The palace is very magnificent ; the present King 
 has built a new staircase, which makes the suite of rooms con- 
 tinuous, and the whole has been regilt and painted. We were 
 arranged in the throne room by nations, the English first, and 
 at a quarter before nine the doors of the royal apartment were 
 opened, and the royal family came forth. We all stood in a 
 long line (single file) reaching through the two rooms, Begin- 
 ning and ending again at the door of the King's apartment. 
 The King walked down the line attended by Lord Granville, 
 then the Queen with the eldest Princess under her arm, then 
 Madame Adelaide with the other, and then the Duke of Or- 
 leans. Aston l attended the Queen, and the attaches the 
 others. They all speak to each individual, and by some 
 
 1 The British Secretary of Embassy, afterwards Sir Arthur Aston.
 
 328 THE GREYILLE MEMOIRS. [1837. 
 
 strange stretch of invention find something to say. The King 
 is too civil ; he has a fine head, and closely resembles the 
 pictures of Louis XIV. The Queen is very gracious and dig- 
 nified, Adelaide very good-humored, and the Duke of Orleans 
 extremely princely in his manners. This morning I went to 
 the Tuileries by appointment, when he received me, kept me 
 for a quarter of an hour talking about race-horses, and invited 
 me to breakfast on Saturday, and to go with him to Meudon 
 to see his stud. 
 
 I ended my day (the 25th) by going to a ball at the Tuileries, 
 one of the great balls, and a magnificent spectacle indeed. 
 The long line of light gleaming through the whole length of 
 the palace is striking as it is approached, and the interior, 
 with the whole suite of apartments brilliantly illuminated, and 
 glittering from one end to the other with diamonds and 
 feathers and uniforms, and dancing in all the several rooms, 
 made a splendid display. The supper in the theatre was the 
 finest thing I ever saw of the kind ; all the women sup first, 
 and afterwards the men, the tables being renewed over and 
 over again. There was an array of servants in gorgeous 
 liveries, and the apartment was lit by thousands of candles 
 (no lamps) and as light as day. The company amounted to 
 between 3,000 and 4,000, from all the great people down to 
 national guards, and even private soldiers. None of the Car- 
 lists were there, as they none of them choose to go to court. 
 The King retired before eleven ; it was said that he had re- 
 ceived anonymous letters warning him of some intended at- 
 tempt on his person, and extraordinary precautions were 
 taken to guard against the entrance of any improper people. 
 
 January 26th. Having seen all the high society the night 
 before, I resolved to see all the low to-night, and went to 
 Musard's ball a most curious scene ; two large rooms in the 
 Rue St. HoHore almost thrown into one, a numerous and ex- 
 cellent orchestra, a prodigious crowd of people, most of them 
 in costume, and all the women masked. There was every de- 
 scription of costume, but that which was the most general was 
 the dress of a French post-boy, in which both males and
 
 1837-] DUKE OF ORLEANS. 329 
 
 females seemed to delight. It was well-regulated uproar and 
 orderly confusion. When the music struck up they began 
 dancing all over the rooms ; the whole mass was in motion, 
 but though with gestures the most vehement and grotesque, 
 and a license almost unbounded, the figure of the dance never 
 seemed to be confused, and the dancers were both expert in 
 their capers and perfect in their evolutions. Nothing could 
 be more licentious than the movements of the dancers, and 
 they only seemed to be restrained within limits of common 
 decency by the cocked hats and burnished helmets of the po- 
 lice and gendarmes which towered in the midst of them. 
 After quadrilling and waltzing away, at a signal given they 
 began galloping round the room ; then they rushed pellmell, 
 couple after couple, like Bedlamites broke loose, but not the 
 slightest accident occurred. I amused myself with this 
 strange and grotesque sight for an hour or more, and then 
 came home. 
 
 February 2.d. I asked Madame de Lieven what was the 
 reason that the great powers would not let the Duke of Or- 
 leans find a wife, and why especially the Emperor Nicholas 
 (who, it was to be presumed, desired the continuance of peace 
 and order in France, and therefore of this dynasty) took every 
 opportunity of showing his contempt and aversion for the 
 King, being the only sovereign who had never congratulated 
 him by letter on his various escapes from assassination. 
 She replied that it was not surprising that sovereigns and 
 their families should be indisposed to send their daughters to 
 a country which they looked upon as always liable to a revolu- 
 tion, and to marry them to a prince always in danger of being 
 expelled from France, and perhaps from Europe ; and that 
 the Emperor (whom she did not excuse in this respect) could 
 not bring himself to write Monsieur mon Frlre to Louis 
 Philippe, and for that reason would never compliment him but 
 through his ambassador ; au reste, that the Duke of Orleans 
 would find a wife among the German princesses. It is, how- 
 ever, very ridiculous that second and third-rate royalties 
 should give themselves all sorts of airs, and affect to hold
 
 330 THE GREVIU.K MEMOIRS. [1837. 
 
 cheap the King of France's eldest son, and talk of his alliance 
 as a degradation. There are two Wiirtemberg princesses, 
 daughters of the Duchess of Oldenburg, who talk in this 
 strain ; one of them is good-looking, and the Duke of Orleans 
 in his recent expedition in Germany had the curiosity to 
 travel incognito out of his way to take a look at them. The 
 King their father, who heard of it, complained to Madame de 
 Lieven of the impertinence of such conduct ; but the girls 
 were enchanted, and with all their pretended aversion and 
 contempt for the Orleans family, were in a flutter of excited 
 vanity at his having come to look at them, and in despair at 
 not having seen him themselves. 
 
 March ^\st. Among the many old people who have been 
 cut off by this severe weather, one of the most remarkable is 
 Mrs. Fitzherbert, who died at Brighton at above eighty years 
 of age. She was not a clever woman, but of a very noble 
 spirit, disinterested, generous, honest, and affectionate, greatly 
 beloved by her friends and relations, popular in the world, and 
 treated with uniform distinction and respect by the royal family. 
 The late King, who was a despicable creature, grudged her the 
 allowance he was bound to make her, and he was always 
 afraid lest she should make use of some of the documents in 
 her possession to annoy or injure him. This mean and selfish 
 apprehension led him to make various efforts to obtain pos- 
 session of those the appearance of which he most dreaded, 
 and among others, one remarkable attempt was made by Sir 
 William Knighton some years ago. Although a stranger to 
 Mrs. Fitzherbert, he called one day at her house, when she 
 was ill in bed, insisted upon seeing her, and forced his way 
 into her bedroom. She contrived (I forget how) to get rid of 
 him without his getting anything out of her, but this domicil- 
 iary visit determined her to make a final disposition of all the 
 papers she possessed, that in the event of her death no ad- 
 vantage might be taken of them, either against her own 
 memory or the interests of any other person. She accordingly 
 selected those papers which she resolved to preserve, and 
 which are supposed to be the documents and correspondence
 
 1837-] ILLNESS OF THE KING. 331 
 
 relating to her marriage with George IV., and made a packet 
 of them which was deposited at her banker's, and all other 
 letters and papers she condemned to the flames. For this 
 purpose she sent for the Duke of Wellington and Lord Al- 
 bemarle, told them her determination, and in their presence 
 had these papers burnt ; she assured them that everything 
 was destroyed, and if after her death any pretended letters or 
 documents were produced, they might give the most authorita- 
 tive contraction to their authenticity. 
 
 May -i^d. The King prayed that he might live till the Prin- 
 cess Victoria was of age, and he was very nearly dying just as 
 the event arrived. He is better, but supposed to be in a very 
 precarious state. There has been a fresh squabble between 
 Windsor and Kensington about a proposed allowance to the 
 Princess. 
 
 June ~2.d. The King has been desperately ill, his pulse 
 down at thirty ; they think he will now get over it for this time. 
 His recovery will not have been accelerated by the Duchess of 
 Kent's answer to the city of London's address, in which she 
 went into the history of her life, and talked of her " friendless 
 state " on arriving in this country, the gist of it being that, 
 having been abandoned or neglected by the royal family, she 
 had thrown herself on the country. 
 
 Jttne nth. At Buckhurst last week for Ascot ; went on 
 Monday and returned on Friday. On Tuesday the Queen 
 came to the course, but only stayed an hour. They had an 
 immense party at the Castle notwithstanding the King's illness. 
 I met Adolphus Fitzclarence at the course, who gave me an 
 account of the King's state, which was bad enough, though not 
 for the moment alarming ; no disease, but excessive weakness 
 without power of rallying. He also gave me an account of the 
 late Kensington quarrel. The King wrote a letter to the Prin- 
 cess offering her io,ooo/. a year (not out of his privy purse), 
 which he proposed should be at her own disposal and inde- 
 pendent of her mother. He sent this letter by Lord Con- 
 yngham with orders to deliver it into the Princess's own 
 hands. Conyngham accordingly went to Kensington (where
 
 332 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1837. 
 
 Conroy received him) and asked to be admitted to the Prin- 
 cess. Conroy asked by what authority. He said by his 
 Majesty's orders. Conroy went away, and shortly after Con- 
 yngham was ushered into the presence of the Duchess and 
 Princess, when he said that he had waited on her Royal High- 
 ness by the King's commands to present to her a letter with 
 which he had been charged by his Majesty. The Duchess 
 put out her hand to take it, when he said he begged her Royal 
 Highness's pardon, but he was expressly commanded by the 
 King to deliver the letter into the Princess's own hands. Her 
 mother then drew back and the Princess took the letter, when 
 Conyngham made his bow and retired. Victoria wrote to the 
 King, thanking him and accepting his offer. He then sent to 
 say that it was his wish to name the person who should receive 
 this money for her, and he proposed to name Stephenson. 
 Then began the dispute. The Duchess of Kent objected to 
 the arrangement, and she put forth her claim, which was that 
 she should have 6,ooo/. of the money and the Princess 4,ooo/. 
 How the matter had ended Adolphus did not know when I saw 
 him. [It never was settled.] 
 
 The Duchess of Northumberland had been to Windsor and 
 resigned her office of governess a few days before. 
 
 On Wednesday it was announced for the first time that the 
 King was alarmingly ill, on Thursday the account was no 
 better, and in the course of Wednesday and Thursday his im- 
 mediate dissolution appeared so probable that I concerted with 
 Errol that I should send to the Castle at nine o'clock on 
 Thursday evening for the last report, that I might know 
 whether to go to London directly or not. On Wednesday the 
 physicians wanted to issue a bulletin, but the King would not 
 hear of it. He said as long as he was able to transact public 
 business he would not have the public alarmed on his ac- 
 count, but on Friday, nevertheless, the first bulletin was 
 issued. 
 
 June \"$th. Bad accounts of the King yesterday. Mel- 
 bourne desired I would get everything ready quietly for a 
 council. He has been busily occupied in examining the prec-
 
 1 837.] ILLNESS OF THE KING. 333 
 
 edents in order to conduct the first ceremonies properly, and 
 the first questions have been whether the Duchess of Kent 
 could come into council with her daughter, and whether the 
 Duke of Cumberland (King of Hanover as he will be) should 
 be summoned to it. 
 
 June i6th. On Wednesday the King was desperately bad, 
 yesterday he was better, but not so as to afford any hope, 
 though Chambers says his recovery is not impossible. Al- 
 though the bulletins tell so little, everybody is now aware of 
 his Majesty's state. He dictates these reports himself, and 
 will not allow more to be said ; he continues to do business, 
 and his orders are taken as usual, so he is resolved to die with 
 harness on his back. Yesterday Lord Lansdowne sent for me 
 to beg in the first place that everything might be ready, and in 
 the next to say that they were perplexed to know what steps, 
 if any, they ought to take to ascertain whether the Queen is 
 with child, and to beg me to search in our books if any prec- 
 edent could be found at the accession of James II. But they 
 had forgotten that the case had been provided for in the Re- 
 gency Bill, and that in the event of the King's death without 
 children, the Queen is to be proclaimed, but the oath of al- 
 legiance taken with a saving of the rights of any posthumous 
 child to King William. They ought to have known this, but 
 it is odd enough that there is nobody in office who has any 
 personal knowledge of the usual forms at the first council, for 
 not one of these ministers was in office at the accession of 
 William IV. My colleague, Buller, who was present as clerk 
 of the council, is dead, and I was abroad. 
 
 In the morning I met Sir Robert Peel in the Park, and 
 talked with him about the beginning of the new reign. He 
 said that it was very desirable that the young Queen should 
 appear as much as possible emancipated from all restraint, 
 and exhibit a capacity for the discharge of her high functions ; 
 that the most probable as well as the most expedient course 
 she could adopt, would be to rely entirely upon the advice of 
 Melbourne, and she might with great propriety say that she 
 thought it incumbent on her to follow the example which had
 
 334 TIIE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1837. 
 
 been set by her two uncles, her predecessors, William IV. 
 having retained in office the ministers of his brother, and 
 George IV., although his political predilections were known 
 to lean another way, having also declined to dismiss the gov- 
 ernment of his father. Peel said that he concluded King 
 Leopold would be her great adviser. If Leopold is prudent, 
 however, he will not hurry over here at the very first moment, 
 which would look like an impatience to establish his influence, 
 and if he does, the first result will be every sort of jealousy 
 and discord between him and the Duchess of Kent. The 
 elements of intrigue do not seem wanting in this embryo 
 court. Besides the Duchess of Kent and Leopold, and Con- 
 roy of course, Caradoc 1 is suspected of a design and an ex- 
 pectation to become a personage ; and Lord Durham is on his 
 way home, and his return is regarded with no little curiosity, 
 because he may endeavor to play a great political part, and 
 materially to influence the opinions, or at least the councils, 
 of the Queen. What renders speculation so easy, and events 
 uncertain, is the absolute ignorance of everybody, without ex- 
 ception, of the character, disposition, and capacity of the 
 Princess. She has been kept in such jealous seclusion by her 
 mother (never having slept out of her bedroom, nor been 
 alone with anybody but herself and the Baroness Lehzen), 
 that not one of her acquaintance, none of the attendants at 
 Kensington, not even the Duchess of Northumberland, her 
 governess, have any idea what she is, or what she promises 
 to be. It is therefore no difficult matter to form and utter 
 conjectures which nobody can contradict or gainsay but by 
 other conjectures equally uncertain and fallacious. The To- 
 ries are in great consternation at the King's approaching 
 death, from the advantage which they foresee their opponents 
 must derive from it as far as the extension of their term of 
 power is concerned, and they prognosticate, according to their 
 custom, all sorts of dismal consequences, none of which, of 
 course, will come to pass. Nothing will happen, because, in 
 this country, nothing ever does. The Whigs, to do them 
 
 1 Colonel Caradoc, afterwards Lord Howden ; died in 1873.
 
 1 83 7.] PRAYERS FOR THE KING. 335 
 
 justice, behave with great decency ; whatever they may really 
 feel, they express a very proper concern, and I have no doubt 
 Melbourne really feels the concern he expresses. The public 
 in general don't seem to care much, and only wonder what 
 will happen. 
 
 June ijth. Yesterday the King was better, so as to prom- 
 ise a prolongation of his existence, though not his recovery. 
 An intimation came from Windsor that it was desired prayers 
 should be offered up in the churches for him ; so the Privy 
 Council assembled to order this, but on assembling the 
 Bishop of London objected to the form which had been used 
 upon the last and other occasions (an order made by the 
 lords to the Archbishop of Canterbury to prepare a form of 
 prayer), asserting that the lords had no power to make such 
 an order, and it was even doubted by lawyers whether the 
 King himself had power to order alterations in the liturgy, or 
 the use of the particular prayers ; and admitting that he had, 
 it was in virtue of his prerogative, and as head of the Church, 
 but that the lords of the council had no power whatever of the 
 kind. They admitted that he was correct in this view of the 
 case, and consequently, instead of an order to the archbish- 
 ops, his Majesty's pleasure that prayers should be offered up 
 was conveyed to the council, and a communication to that 
 effect was directed to be made to the Archbishop. The 
 King's pleasure being thus conveyed, it is his duty to obey, 
 and the bishops have power to direct their clergy to pray for 
 the King. The Bishop of London would have preferred that 
 a prayer for his recovery as for a sick person, but mentioning 
 him by name, should have been adopted, but the Archbishop 
 was prepared with his form of prayer, and it was directed to 
 be used. 
 
 June I9///. Yesterday the King was sinking fast; the 
 Sacrament was administered to him by the Archbishop of 
 Canterbury. He said, " This is the i8th of June ; I should 
 like to live to see the sun of Waterloo set." Last night I 
 met the Duke, and dined at the Duchess of Cannizzaro's, 
 who after dinner crowned him with a crown of laurel (in joke
 
 336 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1837. 
 
 of course), when they all stood up and drank his health, and at 
 night they sang a hymn in honor of the day. He asked me 
 whether Melbourne had had any communication with the 
 Princess Victoria. I said I did not know, but thought not. 
 He said, " He ought. I was in constant communication with 
 the present King for a month before George IV. died. George 
 IV. was for a month quite as bad as this King, and I sent the 
 Duke of Clarence the bulletins every day, and besides wrote 
 to him the private accounts I received, and what is very odd, 
 I had a quarrel with him in the course of this. He con- 
 stantly wrote to me, and in one of his letters he told me he 
 meant to make me his minister. I felt this was a very awk- 
 ward subject for me to enter upon, and that I could not, be- 
 ing the minister of the King, with any propriety treat with 
 his successor, so I resolved to take no notice whatever of this 
 part of his letter, and I did not. He was very indignant at 
 this, and complained to his friends (to Lord Cassilis, for in- 
 stance) that I had behaved very rudely to him. When I met 
 him for I met him constantly at Windsor, and in the King's 
 room he was very cold in his manner, but I took no notice, 
 and went on as before." 
 
 June 2 !.$/. The King died at twenty minutes after two 
 yesterday morning, and the young Queen met the council at 
 Kensington Palace at eleven. Never was anything like the 
 first impression she produced, or the chorus of praise and ad- 
 miration which is raised about her manner and behavior, and 
 certainly not without justice. It was very extraordinary, and 
 something far beyond what was looked for. Her extreme 
 youth and inexperience, and the ignorance of the world con- 
 cerning her, naturally excited intense curiosity to see how 
 she would act on this trying occasion, and there was a con- 
 siderable assemblage at the palace, notwithstanding the short 
 notice which was given. The first thing to be done was to 
 teach her her lesson, which for this purpose Melbourne had 
 himself to learn. I gave him the council papers, and ex- 
 plained all that was to be done, and he went and explained 
 all this to her. He asked her if she would enter the room
 
 I837-] QUEEN VICTORIA'S FIRST COUNCIL. 337 
 
 accompanied by the great officers of state, but she said she 
 would come in alone. When the lords were assembled the 
 Lord President informed them of the King's death, and 
 suggested, as they were so numerous, that a few of them 
 .should repair to the presence of the Queen and inform her 
 of the event, and that their lordships were assembled in con- 
 sequence ; and accordingly the two royal dukes, the two arch- 
 bishops, the Chancellor, and Melbourne went with him. The 
 Queen received them in the adjoining room alone. As soon 
 as they had returned the proclamation was read and the usual 
 order passed, when the doors were thrown open and the 
 Queen entered, accompanied by her two uncles, who advanced 
 to meet her. She bowed to the lords, took her seat, and then 
 read her speech in a clear, distinct, and audible voice, and 
 without any appearance of fear or embarrassment. She was 
 quite plainly dressed, and in mourning. After she had read 
 her speech and taken and signed the oath for the security of 
 the Church of Scotland, the privy councilors were sworn, the 
 two royal dukes x first, by themselves ; and as these two old 
 men, her uncles, knelt before her, swearing allegiance and 
 kissing her hand, I saw her blush up to the eyes, as if she 
 felt the contrast between their civil and their natural relations, 
 and this was the only sign of emotion which she evinced. 
 Her manner to them was very graceful and engaging ; she 
 ki?sed them both, and rose from her chair and moved towards 
 the Duke of Sussex, who was farthest from her and to infirm 
 to reach her. She seemed rather bewildered at the multitude 
 of men who were sworn, and who came one after another to 
 kiss her hand, but she did not speak to anybody, nor did 
 she make the slightest difference in her manner, or show any 
 in her countenance, to any individual of any rank, station, or 
 party. I particularly watched her when Melbourne and the 
 ministers and the Duke of Wellington and Peel approached 
 her. She went through the whole ceremony, occasionaliy 
 looking at Melbourne for instruction when she had any doubt 
 
 1 The Dukes of Cumberland and Sussex. The Duke of Cambridge was in Han- 
 over.
 
 338 THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. [1837. 
 
 what to do, which hardly ever occurred, and with perfect 
 calmness and self-possession, but at the same time with a 
 graceful modesty and propriety particularly interesting and 
 ingratiating. When the business was done she retired as she 
 had entered, and I could see that nobody was in the adjoining 
 room. 
 
 Lord Lansdowne insisted upon being declared president of 
 the council (and I was obliged to write a declaration for him 
 to read to that effect), though it was not usual. The speech 
 was admired, except by Brougham, who appeared in a consid- 
 erable state of excitement. He said to Peel (whom he was 
 standing near, and with whom he is not in the habit of com- 
 municating), " Amelioration, that is not English ; you might 
 perhaps say #z<?lioration, but improvement is the proper word." 
 " Oh," said Peel, " I see no harm in the word ; it is generally 
 used." "You object," said Brougham, "to the sentiment, I 
 object to the grammar." " No," said Peel, " I don't object 
 to the sentiment." " Well, then, she pledges herself to the 
 policy of our government," said Brougham. Peel told me this, 
 which passed in the room and near to the Queen. He like- 
 wise said how amazed he was at the manner and behavior, at 
 her apparent deep sense of her situation, her modesty, and at 
 the same time her firmness. She appeared, in fact, to be 
 awed, but not daunted, and afterwards the Duke of Wellington 
 told me the same thing, and added that if she had been his 
 own daughter he could not have desired to see her perform 
 her part better. It was settled that she was to hold a council 
 at St. James's this day, and be proclaimed there at ten o'clock, 
 and she expressed a wish to see Lord Albemarle, who went to 
 her and told her he was come to take her orders. She said, 
 " I have no orders to give ; you know all this so much better 
 than I do, that I leave it all to you. I am to be at St James's 
 at ten to-morrow, and must beg you to find me a conveyance 
 proper for the occasion." Accordingly, he went and fetched 
 her in state with a great escort. The Duchess of Kent was 
 in the carriage with her, but I was surprised to hear so little 
 shouting, and to see so few hats off as she went by. I rode
 
 1837-1 QUEEN VICTORIA PROCLAIMED. 339 
 
 down the Park, and saw her appear at the window when she 
 was proclaimed. The Duchess of Kent was there, but not 
 prominent ; the Queen was surrounded by her ministers, and 
 courtesied repeatedly to the people, who did not, however, 
 hurrah till Lord Lansdowne gave them the signal from the 
 window. At twelve she held a council, at which she presided 
 with as much ease as if she had been doing nothing else all 
 her life, and though Lord Lansdowne and my colleague had 
 contrived between them to make some confusion with the 
 council papers, she was not put out by it. She looked very 
 well, and though so small in stature, and without much preten- 
 sion to beauty, the gracefulness of her manner and the good 
 expression of her countenance give her on the whole a very 
 agreeable appearance, and with her youth inspire an excessive 
 interest in all who approach her, and which I can't help feel- 
 ing myself. After the council she received the archbishops 
 and bishops and after them the judges. They all kissed her 
 hand, but she said nothing to any of them, very different in 
 this from her predecessor, who used to harangue them all, and 
 had a speech ready for everybody. 
 
 Conyngham, when he came to her with the intelligence of 
 the King's death, brought a request from the Queen Dowager 
 that she might be permitted to remain at Windsor till after 
 the funeral, and she has written her a letter couched in the 
 kindest terms, begging her to consult nothing but her own 
 health and convenience, and to remain at Windsor just as 
 long as she pleases. In short, she appears to act with every 
 sort of good taste and good feeling, as well as good sense, 
 and as far as it has gone nothing can be more favorable than 
 the impression she has made, and nothing can promise better 
 than her manner and conduct do, though it would be rash to 
 count too confidently upon her judgment and discretion in 
 more weighty matters. No contrast can be greater than that 
 between the personal demeanor of the present and the late 
 sovereigns at their respective accessions. William IV. was a 
 man who, coming to the throne at the mature age of sixty-five, 
 was so excited by the exaltation, that he nearly went mad, and
 
 34O THE GREVILLE MEAIOIKS. [1837. 
 
 distinguished himself by a thousand extravagances of lan- 
 guage and conduct, to the alarm or amusement of all who wit- 
 nessed his strange freaks ; and though he was shortly after- 
 wards sobered down into more becoming habits, he always 
 continued to be -something of a blackguard and something 
 more of a buffoon. It is but fair to his memory at the same 
 time to say that he was a good-natured, kind-hearted, and 
 well-meaning man, and he always acted an honorable and 
 straightforward, if not always a sound and discreet, part. 
 The two principal ministers of his reign, the Duke of Wel- 
 lington and Lord Grey (though the former was only his minis- 
 ter for a few months), have both spoken of him to me with 
 strong expressions of personal regard and esteem. The 
 young Queen, who might well be either dazzled or confounded 
 with the grandeur and novelty of her situation, seems neither 
 the one nor the other, and behaves with a decorum and pro- 
 priety beyond her years, and with all the sedateness and dig- 
 nity the want of which was so conspicuous in her uncle.
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Adair, Right Hon. Sir Robert, sworn in 
 Privy Councilor, 56. 
 
 Adelaide, Queen, 152 ; at the Ancient 
 Concert, 206 ; mobbed in the city, 2 10 ; 
 audience of, about the crown, 215 ; cor- 
 onation of, 219; Lord Howe, 240; 
 yacht, 275 ; return of, 282 ; illness of, 
 282. _ 
 
 Albani, Cardinal, influence of, 127; con- 
 versation with, 143. 
 
 Alexander, Emperor, of Russia, corona- 
 tion of, described by Talleyrand, 216. 
 
 Allen, John, 290 ; unbelief of, 308. 
 
 Alvanley, Lord, duel with Morgan 
 O'Connell, 298. _ 
 
 Anglesey, Marquis of, entry into Dub- 
 lin, 197. 
 
 Arkwright, Sir Richard, fortunes of, 267. 
 
 Arkwright, Mrs., visit to, 267. 
 
 Artevelde, Philip van, 275 ; discussed at 
 Holland House, 285. 
 
 Ascot Races, 1831, 210. 
 
 Augustus, Prince of Prussia, 233. 
 
 Austin, Mr. John, his work on Jurispru- 
 dence, 291. 
 
 Batchelor, valet to the Duke of York and 
 to King George IV., 57, 71 ; conversa- 
 tion with, 171. 
 
 Barri, Madame du, 224. 
 
 Bath, Chapter of the Order of the, 101. 
 
 Bathurst, Earl, Lord President, death of, 
 276. 
 
 Baudrand, General, 173 ; reception of, 
 177. 
 
 Bazaar, in Hanover Square, 247. 
 
 Bentinck, Lord Henry, quarrel with Sir 
 Roger Gresley, 212. 
 
 Berry, Miss, 268. 
 
 Berryer, M., 326. 
 
 Blacas, M. de, favorite of Louis XVIII., 
 230. 
 
 Bloomfield, Sir Benjamin, dismissal of, 
 35- 
 
 Bonaparte, Emperor Napoleon, in the 
 one hundred days, 14 ; campaigns of, 
 described by Marshal Marmont, 174. 
 
 Bonaparte, Joseph, at dinner at Lady 
 Cork's, 253. 
 
 Bonaparte, Lucien, introduced to the 
 Duke of Wellington, 253 ; at dinner at 
 Lady Cork's, 253. 
 
 Boswell, " Life of Johnson," anecdotes 
 lost, 200. 
 
 Brougham, Lord, speech on the Queen's 
 trial, 20 ; character of, 53 ; qualities of, 
 162 ; appointed lord high chancellor, 
 191 ; discontent of, 191 ; social quali- 
 ties of, 192 ; correspondence with 
 Southey on rewards to literary men, 
 201 ; domestic kindness of, 204 ; as lord 
 chancellor, 205 ; at the Horse Guards, 
 205 ; at dinner at Hanbury's brewery, 
 212; at the British Museum, 213; 
 claims the old great seal, 218; inten- 
 tion of sitting at the Privy Council, 
 224 ; as chancellor, 254 ; anecdotes 01 
 Queen Caroline, 259 ; defense of him- 
 self, 269 ; apology for, 270 ; on the 
 Pluralities Bill, 274 ; and Lord West- 
 meath, 277 ; conduct in the Westmeath 
 case, 277, 282 ; versatility of, 279 ; lines 
 applied to, 279 : Greek epigrams, 280 ; 
 ambition of, 280; and Macaulay, 311- 
 314; at Queen Victoria's first council, 
 338. 
 
 Brussels, disturbances at, 178. 
 
 Bunsen, Baron, 129 ; career of, 136. 
 
 Burghersh, Lord, at Florence, 121. 
 
 Burghersh, Lady, intercedes for a pris- 
 oner at the Old Bailey, 196. 
 
 Burke, Right Hon. Edmund, writings of, 
 295 ; compared with Macintosh, 305. 
 
 Buxton, Fowell, dinner at the brewery, 
 212. ' 
 
 Byron, Lord, Moore's Life of, 104 ; char- 
 acter of, 105.
 
 342 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Cambridge, H. R. H. the Duchess of, re- 
 ception ofj i. 
 
 Canning, Right Hon. Sir Stratford, an- 
 ecdote of, 260. 
 
 Canning, Right Hon. George, Foreign 
 Secretary, 35 ; death of, 51 ; anecdotes 
 of, 52; dispatch in verse, 136; sagac- 
 ity of, 179. 
 
 Canning, Lady, authorship of pamphlet, 
 261. 
 
 Cannizzaro, Duchess of, 252 ; crowns the 
 Duke of Wellington, 335. 
 
 Carlos, Don, in London, 274. 
 
 Caroline, Queen, return of, 17; trial of, 
 20 ; anecdote of, 259. 
 
 Cato Street Conspiracy, the, 15. 
 
 Cayla, Madame du, 38 ; dinner at the 
 Duke of Wellington's, 75 ; Beranger's 
 verses on, 76 ; favorite of Louis 
 XV 1 1 1., 230. 
 
 Cenis, Mont, 113. 
 
 Champollion, Jean Francois, death of, 
 231- 
 
 Chapeau de Faille, the, purchase of, 204. 
 
 Charles I., King, head of, discovered at 
 Windsor, 2> \ ; executioner of, 289. 
 
 Charles X., King, of Franc%, at Lul- 
 worth Castle, 173 ; off Cowes, 173. 
 
 Charlotte, Queen, illness of, i. 
 
 Charlotte, H. R. H. the Princess, anec- 
 dotes of, 233. 
 
 Chartres, H. R. H. the Due de, arrival 
 of, 73. 
 
 Chobert, the " Fire King," 107. 
 
 Christmas trees, introduced by Princess 
 Lieven at Panshanger, 102. 
 
 Civil List, the, excess of expenditure on, 
 100. 
 
 Cobbett, William, trial of, 214; returned 
 for Oldham, 237. 
 
 Cochrane, Lord, at Florence, 122. 
 
 Conroy, Sir John, 220, 249. 
 
 Constantine, the Grand Duke, accident 
 to, 102. 
 
 Conyngham, Marchioness of, 28 ; wears 
 a crown jewel, 28 ; court intrigues. 72. 
 
 Conyngham, Lord Francis, 30. 
 
 Cornelius, painter, 212. 
 
 Council, clerk of the, Mr. Greville sworn 
 in, 27; after the accession of William 
 IV., 156.; Recorder's report in, 195 ; 
 scene at council for a new great seal, 
 218. 
 
 Council, Cabinet : the first of Lord Mel- 
 bourne's administration, 278. 
 
 Covent Garden Theatrical Fund Dinner, 
 70. 
 
 Cowley, Abraham, lines from " Ode to 
 Solitude," 228. 
 
 Cowper, William, Life of, by Southey, 
 289. 
 
 Cradock, Colonel, sent to Charles 3C, 
 '77- 
 
 Crampton, Sir Philip, Irish story, 91. 
 
 Craven, Earl of, disperses a mob, 194. 
 
 Creevey, Mr., 87. 
 
 Croker, Right Hon. John Wilson, edition 
 of " Boswell's Life of Johnson," 200 ; 
 reviews lost, 200. 
 
 Cumberland, H. R. H. the Duke of, op- 
 position to Catholic Relief Bill, 63 ; 
 intrigues at court, 80; insults Lady 
 Lyndhurst, 81 ; quarrel with Lord 
 Lyndhurst, Si ; disputes concerning 
 the office of " Gold Stick," 149, 165. 
 
 Cumberland, H. R. H. the Duchess of, 2. 
 
 Cuvier, Baron, death of, 231. 
 
 Dalberg, Due de, letter on European 
 affairs, 180. 
 
 De Cazes, Duke, favorite of Louis 
 XVIII., 230; Ambassador to the 
 court of St. James, 230. 
 
 Denbigh, Earl of, chamberlain to Queen 
 Adelaide, 242. 
 
 Dino, Duchesse de, 188. 
 
 Dover, Lord, death of ; 249 ; character ol, 
 249; life of Frederick II., 251; book 
 on the Man in the Iron Mask, 251. 
 
 Drax v. Grosvenor, case of, 224. 
 
 Drummond, Henry, mission to the Arch- 
 bishop of York, 3 10. 
 
 Dudley, Earl of, dinner to Marshal Mar- 
 mont, 177 ; eccentricity of, 228. 
 
 Durham, Earl of, quarrel with Lady Jer- 
 sey, 203 ; attack on Lord Grey at a 
 Cabinet dinner, 225. 
 
 Egremont, Earl of, at Petworth, 238; 
 
 wealth of, 239 ; hospitality to the poor, 
 
 272. 
 
 Eldon, Earl of, tribute to, 263. 
 Erskine, Right Hon. Thomas, sworn in 
 
 a privy councilor, 224 ; chief judge in 
 
 bankruptcy, 224. 
 Escars, Duchesse d', at a party given by 
 
 the Duke of Wellington, 75. 
 Esterhazy, Prince Paul, conversation 
 
 with, 178; on affairs in Europe, 321; 
 
 conversation with, 323. 
 Evans, the incendiary, arrest of, 193. 
 
 Falck, Baron, 160, 178. 
 
 Ferdinand, Emperor, of Austria ; 324. 
 
 Fitzclarence, Lord Adolphus, picture of, 
 
 215. 
 Fitzclarence, Lord Augustus, at Ascot, 
 
 210. 
 Fitzclarence, Lady Augusta, marriage of, 
 
 .3' 6 - 
 
 Fitzherbert, Mrs., death of, 330 ; docu- 
 ments of, 330.
 
 INDEX. 
 
 343 
 
 Flahault, Madame de, anecdotes of Prin- 
 cess Charlotte, 233. 
 
 Fleury, Cardinal, 246. 
 
 Florence, 120; sights of, 120; sculpture, 
 121. 
 
 Foley, Lord, sworn in a privy councilor, 
 195 ; Lord-lieutenant of Worcester- 
 shire, 195. 
 
 Fox, Right Hon. Charles James, de- 
 scribed by Talleyrand, 243. 
 
 Fox, W. J., Unitarian minister, sermon, 
 264. 
 
 France, state of affairs in, no; appear, 
 ance of the country, 113; events in 
 1830, 161 ; revolution, 163. 
 
 Francis, Sir Philip, handwriting of, 87. 
 
 Franklin, Benjamin, 216. 
 
 Franz Joseph, Archduke, 324. 
 
 Frascati, convent at, 124; dinner at, 124. 
 
 Garrick, David, anecdotes of, 232. 
 
 Genoa, 117; churches, 118; palaces, 119; 
 tomb of Andrew Doria, 120. 
 
 George III., death of, 13; will, 36; jewels 
 and property, 37; dislike of the Duke 
 of Richmond, 286. 
 
 George IV., illness of, 13 ; at the Pavilion, 
 29 ; interview with, 50 ; health and 
 habits of, 57 ; violent dislike to the 
 Catholic Relief Bill, 58 ; character of, 
 60 ; personal habits of. 65 ; health of, 
 71; racing interests of, 74; anecdotes 
 concerning, 76; eyesight affected, 87; 
 conduct in reference to Mr. Denman, 
 98; illness of, 141; death of, 146; fu- 
 neral, 148 ; sale of wardrobe, 167 ; de- 
 tails of last illness, 171 ; anecdotes con- 
 cerning, 218. 
 
 Glengall, Earl of, comedy by the, 97. 
 
 Glengall, Countess of, 196. 
 
 Gloucester, H. R. H. the Duke of, 152. 
 
 Goethe, Johann Wolfgang von, death of, 
 231. 
 
 " Goriot, Le Pere," 325. 
 
 Granyille, Countess, 8; quarrel with M. 
 Thiers, 327. 
 
 Greenwich, dinner at, 247. 
 
 Grenville, Thomas, conduct during the 
 riots of 1780, 286. 
 
 Gresley, Sir Roger, quarrel with Lord H. 
 Beminck, 212. 
 
 Grey, Earl, forms an administration, 
 1830, 190 ; at dinner at Lord Sefton's, 
 192 ; remarks on administration of, 
 209 ; at dinner at Hanbury's brewery, 
 212 ; attacked by Lord Durham, 225. 
 
 Guizot, Monsieur, reported resignation of, 
 181 ; eminence of, 326. 
 
 Gully, Mr., account of, 237 ; returned for 
 P-mtefract, 238. 
 
 Gunpowder Plot, papers relating to, 62. 
 
 Hanbury's brewery, dinner at, 212. 
 
 Happiness, reflections on, 303. 
 
 Hartwell, visit to, 244. 
 
 Henry II., King, and Thomas a Beckett, 
 287. 
 
 Henry VIII., King, coffin of, found at 
 Windsor, 214. 
 
 Hertford, Marchioness of, funeral of, 271. 
 
 Hess, Captain, 233, 234. 
 
 Heythrop, riot at, 194. 
 
 Holland, Lord, at Panshanger, 182 ; an- 
 ecdotes related by, 287 ; on reform, 
 290 ; on Mr. Canning, 290 ; anecdotes, 
 311 ; on Mr. Fox, 311. 
 
 Holland, Lady, fancies of, 236 ; and 
 Spencer Perceval, 309. 
 
 Holland House, dinner at, 2 ; conversa. 
 tion atj 232 ; Allen and Macaulay, 233 ; 
 sketch of, 236; conversation at, 283, 
 285 ; literary criticisms, 285 ; Lord Mel- 
 bourne's conversation, 387 ; dinner at, 
 289. 
 
 Hook, Theodore, improvisation of, 277 j 
 singing of, 294. 
 
 Hortense, Queen, at Frascati, 124. 
 
 Howe, Earl, correspondence about the 
 chamberlainship, 241. 
 
 Hudson, Sir James, page of honor, 241. 
 
 Huskisson, Right Hon. William, Presi- 
 dent of the Board of Trade, Lord Mel- 
 bourne's opinion of, 181 ; death of, 
 182 ; character of, 184; funeral of, 185. 
 
 Incendiarism in the country, 195. 
 Irving, Edward, service in chapel, 261; 
 
 the unknown tongues, 262 ; sermon of, 
 
 262. 
 Irving, Washington, 97. 
 
 Jeffery, Lord, and Professor Leslie, 265, 
 Jersey, Countess, quarrel with Lord Dur. 
 
 ham, 203. 
 Jockey Club, dinner given by the Kinj* 
 
 to the, 1828, 55 ; in 1829, 74. 
 
 Johnson, Dr., anecdotes of, 232. 
 ones, " Radical," interview with Lord 
 Wharncliffe, 223. 
 
 Kemble, Charles, and his family, 300. 
 
 Kemble, Miss Fanny, 89, 206. 
 
 Kemp, Right Hon. Sir James, Master- 
 General of the Ordnance, sworn in a 
 privy councilor, 195. 
 
 Kent, H. R. H. the Duchess of, disputes 
 in the royal family, 218; and the 
 Duke of Wellington, 218 ; the Regency 
 Bill, 221 ; salutes to, 248; at Burghley, 
 305; quarrels with the King, 318; 
 scene at Windsor, 319; answer to the 
 address of the Citv of London, 331; 
 squabble wi.h ihe King, 332.
 
 344 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Klopstock, Friedrich Gottlieb, anecdote 
 
 of, 287. 
 Knighton, Sir William, 40; influence 
 
 with the King, 51, 58. 
 
 La Ferronays, M. de, on the accession of 
 
 the Emperor Nicholas, 142. 
 Laval, M. de, at Apsley House, 160. 
 Lawrence, Sir Thomas, early genius of, 
 
 101 ; death of, 103 ; character of, 103 ; 
 
 funeral of, 104 ; engagement of, to the 
 
 Misses Siddons, 267. 
 Leigh, Colonel George, 219. 
 Le Marchant, Denis, at Stoke, 254. 
 Lemon, Robert, F. S. A., Deputy Keeper 
 
 of the State Papers, 264. 
 Leopold, King, cold reception of, at 
 
 Windsor, 321, 
 Lewis, Matthew Gregory, (" Monk " 
 
 Lewis), journals and voyages to the 
 
 West Indies, 247; anecdote of, 248; 
 
 agreement with Mr. Murray for the 
 
 Journal, 252. 
 Lieven, Princess, character of, 10 ; recej> 
 
 tion of, at St. Petersburg, 255 ; posi- 
 tion of, in Paris, 326. 
 Liverpool, Earl of, and the King, 15. 
 Lodge, the Royal, entertainments at, 50. 
 Londonderry, Marquis of, death of, 31; 
 
 character of, 32 ; funeral of, 34. 
 Louis XVIII., King, memoirs of, 229; 
 
 favorites, 230 ; at Hartwell, 244. 
 Louis Philippe, King, behavior of, to the 
 
 Queen of Portugal, 257 ; at the Tuil- 
 
 eries, 327. 
 Lushington, Sir Henry, and " Monk " 
 
 Lewis, 248. 
 
 Luttrell, Henry, character of, 97. 
 Lyndhurst, Lord, Lord High Chancellor, 
 
 quarrel with the Duke of Cumberland, 
 
 81 ; in Paris, 325. 
 Lyndhurst, Lady, insulted by the Duke 
 
 of Cumberland, 81. 
 Lyons, riots at, 223. 
 
 Mncao, verses on, 9. 
 
 Macaulay, Thomas Babington, at Hol- 
 land House, 226 ; appearance of, 227 ; 
 character of, 233 ; conversation of, 258 ; 
 memory of, 311; eloquence of, com- 
 pared to Lord Brougham, 312. 
 
 Macaulay, Zachary, 311. 
 
 Macintosh, Right Hon. Sir James, 89 ; 
 conversation of, 292 ; death, 231 ; " His- 
 tory of England," 292 ; remarks on life 
 of> 303, 305 ; compared with Burke, 305 ; 
 life of, 306 ; abilities of, 307 ; religious 
 belief of, 308. 
 
 Maii, Monsignore. 141. 
 
 Mallet, conspiracy of, 217. 
 
 Mansfield, Lord, speech against the gov- 
 ernment, 208. 
 
 Marengo, battle-field of, 117. 
 
 Mnria Donna, Queen of Portugal, at a 
 child's ball, 73 ; at Windsor, 257. 
 
 Marie Amelie, Queen, 327. 
 
 Marmont, Marshal, at Lady Glengall's, 
 174; conversation with, 174; revolu- 
 tion of 1830, 176; at Woolwich, 177; 
 dinner at Lord Dudley's, 177. 
 
 Mattscewitz, Russian Ambassador Ex- 
 traordinary, 6t. 
 
 Maule, Mr. Justice, at dinner at the Ath- 
 enxum, 199. 
 
 Meiningen, chateau of, model of the, 281 ; 
 the Queen revisits the, 282. 
 
 Melbourne, Viscount, Home Secretary, 
 opinion of Brougham, 235 ; anecdote 
 of, 282 ; information of, 287 ; literary 
 conversation of, 287 ; on Benthamites, 
 291 , theological reading of, 291, 308 ; 
 action against, brought by the Hon. 
 Mr. Norton, 314; result of the trial, 
 3iS- 
 
 Metternich, Princess, anecdote of, 294. 
 
 Mezzofanti, 144. 
 
 Mill, John Stuart, at breakfast given by 
 Mr. Henry Taylor, 189. 
 
 Mirabeau, Count de, Talleyrand's account 
 of, 247. 
 
 Miraflores, Count de, Spanish Ambassa- 
 dor in London, 274 ; droll compliment 
 to Madame de Lieven, 275. 
 
 Mold, M., Prime Minister of France, 326 ; 
 abilities of, 327. 
 
 Monti, Vincenzo, anecdote of, 217. 
 
 Moore, Thomas. " Life of Byron," 88 ; 
 conversation of, 90, 91 ; anecdotes, 95 ; 
 compared with Rogers, 309 ; quarrel 
 with O : Connell, 312. 
 
 Murat, Achille, 202. 
 
 Musard's ball, 328. 
 
 Namik Pacha, Turkish Ambassador, 241. 
 
 Naples. Ceremony of taking the veil, 
 136 ; miracle of the blood of San Gen- 
 ii aro, 138. 
 
 Nemours, H. R. H., Due de, at Doncas- 
 ter, 305. 
 
 Nicholas, Emperor, accession of, 142 ; re- 
 ception of strangers, 255 ; qualities of, 
 322 ; dislike to King Louis Philippe, 
 329. 
 
 North, Lord, letters of George III. to, 
 286 ; anecdote of, 288. 
 
 Northumberland, Duchess of, resigns her 
 office of governess to the Princess Vic- 
 toria, 332. 
 
 Norton, Hon. Mr., action brought against 
 Lord Melbourne, 314; result of the 
 trial, 315. 
 
 Oatlann=, the residence of the Duke of 
 York, 2 : weekly parties at, 5.
 
 INDEX. 
 
 345 
 
 O'Connell, Daniel, affair with Lord Al- 
 vanley, 298 ; quarrel with Moore, 314. 
 
 O'Connell, Morgan, duel with Lord Al- 
 vanley, 298. 
 
 Old Bailey, trial, 196. 
 
 Opera House, the English, burnt, 107. 
 
 Orange, Prince of, dinner to the, 188. 
 
 Orleans, H. R. H. Duke of, dinner to, 73 ; 
 sent to Lyons, 223 ; project of mar- 
 riage at Vienna, 323 ; question of mar- 
 riage of, 329. 
 
 Palmerston, Viscount, speech on the 
 Turkish question, 269 ; as a man of 
 business, 296. 
 
 Panshanger, parties at, 18 1, 182. 
 
 Paris, society at, in 1830, no; in July, 
 145; Marshal Marmont's account of 
 events at, in 1830, 176; society at, 325- 
 327 ; sight-seeing, 327, 328. 
 
 Park, Judge, anecdote o f , 197. 
 
 Parsons, anecdotes of, 201. 
 
 Pavilion, the dinner at, 29; completion 
 of, 33- 
 
 Peel, Sir Robert, sen., account of, 204. 
 
 Perceval, Spencer, discourse of, 262 ; the 
 unknown tongue, 262 ; on the condi- 
 tion of the Church, 281 ; apostolic mis- 
 sion to the members of the govern- 
 ment, 309; at Holland House, 310; 
 apostolic mission of, 3 10. 
 
 P^rier, Casimir, death of, 231. 
 
 Persian Ambassador, the, quarrel of, with 
 the Regent, 12. 
 
 Petworth House and pictures, 238. 
 
 Pitt, Right Hon. William, described by 
 Talleyrand, 243 ; anecdotes of, 288. 
 
 Plunket, Lord, anecdote of, 201 ; at Stoke, 
 254- 
 
 Polignac, Prince Jules de, behavior of, 
 168; letter to M. de Mole, 173; exas- 
 peration against, 177. 
 
 Pope, the, audience of Pius VIII., 143. 
 
 Pozzo di Borgo, Count, 246 ; Russian 
 Ambassador in London, 295. 
 
 Proclamation against rioters, 194. 
 
 Quakers', the, address to King William 
 
 IV., 160. 
 Quintus Curtius, 287. 
 
 Reform Bill, the, government defeated, 
 206. 
 
 Reichstadt, Duke of, and Marshal Mar- 
 mont, 324. 
 
 Reis-Effendi, the, 61. 
 
 Richmond, Duke of, and King George 
 III. at a naval review, 286. 
 
 Riots, in London, 1830, 187 ; proclama- 
 tion against, 194 ; in the country, 194. 
 
 Rogers. Samuel, compared with Moore, 
 309. 
 
 Rome. St. Peter's, 122 ; sight-seeing, 125, 
 128; the Sistine Chape), 126; the car- 
 dinals, 126; a cardinal lying in state, 
 128; the Pope's blessing, 130; Holy 
 Week observances, 130 ; the Grand 
 Penitentiary, 131 ; washing of pilgrims' 
 feet, 132 ; St. Peter's illuminated, 135 ; 
 Library of the Vatican, 141. 
 
 Rundell, Mr., fortune of, will of, 49. 
 
 Rutland, Duke of, birthday party, 265. 
 
 Saint-Aulaire, M. de, French Ambassa- 
 dor at Vienna, 293 ; anecdote of, 293. 
 
 Saint-Aulaire, Madame de, 293. 
 
 Saint-Germain, Count de, account of, 2 16 ; 
 the " Wandering Jew," 217. 
 
 San Carlos, Duke and Duchess of, 6. 
 
 Sartorius, Admiral, petition, 317. 
 
 Scott, Sir Walter, death of, 231. 
 
 Sebastiani, Count, French Ambassador 
 to the court of St. James, 293. 
 
 Sefton, Earl of, dinner to Lord Grey 
 and Lord Brougham, 192 ; on Lord 
 Brougham, 212. 
 
 Senior, Nassau, at Holland House, 291. 
 
 Seymour, Jane, coffin of, found at Wind- 
 sor, 214. 
 
 Sheridan, Richard Brinsley, 311. 
 
 Siege of Saragossa, the, 261. 
 
 Smith, Sydney, and the siege of Sara- 
 gossa, 261 ; and Professor Leslie, 265 ; 
 sermon of, in St. Paul's Cathedral, 292 ; 
 on Sir James Macintosh, 306. 
 
 Smithson, Sir Hugh, 239. 
 
 Somaglia, Cardinal, 128. 
 
 Somerville, Mrs., 268. 
 
 Soult, Marshal, sent to Lyons, 223. 
 
 Southey, Robert, at breakfast given by 
 Mr. Henry Taylor, 189 ; letter to Lord 
 Brougham on rewards to literary men, 
 201. 
 
 Stael, Madame de, " Considerations sur 
 la Revolution francaise," 10. 
 
 State Paper Office, 61, 264. 
 
 Stephenson, George, on steam-engines, 
 268. 
 
 Stewart, Lady Dudley, party given by, 
 202. 
 
 Strawberry Hill, party at, 95. 
 
 Sugden, Right Hon. Sir Edward, ori- 
 gin of animosity toward Lord Brough- 
 am, 255 ; resignation of, 297. 
 
 Sugden, Lady, not received at court, 297. 
 
 Talleyrand, Charles Maurice de, Ambas- 
 sador to the court of St. James, 180 ; 
 conversation of, 216; anecdotes, 216; 
 mat of, 222 ; on Fox and Pitt, 243 ; de- 
 tained in the Thames, 243. 
 
 Taylor, Sir Herbert, correspondence with, 
 about the chancellorship, 241. 
 
 Taylor, Henry, breakfast at the house of,
 
 346 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 189; breakfast to Wordsworth, Mill, 
 Elliot, Charles Villiers, 203 ; " Philip 
 van Artevelde," 275. 
 
 Tenterden, Lord, classical knowledge of, 
 235- 
 
 Thiers, Adolphe, dinner, 10,326 ; account 
 of, 257; social qualities of, 326 ; quar- 
 rel with Lady Granville, 327. 
 
 Thorwaldsen, Albert, at Florence, 122. 
 
 Tixall, party at, 8 ; Macao, 9. 
 
 Torrington, Viscount, and the King, 302. 
 
 Tree, Ellen, at the City Theatre, 2 1 5. 
 
 Tuileries, the, reception 31,327; ball at, 
 328. 
 
 Vaudreuil, M. de, French chargt (Taf- 
 Jaires in London, on French affairs, 
 167. 
 
 Vernet, Horace, at Rome, 135. 
 
 Victoria, H. R. H. the Princess, at a child's 
 ball, 73 : first appearance of, at a draw- 
 ing-room, 202 ; at Burghley, 305 ; health 
 of, proposed by the King, 317; at 
 Windsor, 318; letter from the King, 
 331 ; seclusion of, 334; first council of, 
 337; proclaimed QUEEN, 339; impres- 
 sion produced on all, 339. 
 
 Villiers, Hon. Charles Pelham, 189. 
 
 Virginia Water, 169; visit to, 170. 
 
 Walpole, Horace, letters to Sir Horace 
 Mann, 248. 
 
 " Wandering Jew, The," 217. 
 
 Wellington, Duke of, account of the 
 battle of Waterloo, 24 ; in Paris with 
 Bliicher, 26 ; dispute with the King, 3 1 ; 
 opinion of Bonaparte, 39; opinion of 
 Mr. Canning, 52 ; duel with Lord 
 Winchelsea, 66 ; conversation with, on 
 King George IV. and the Duke of 
 Cumberland, 76, 78 ; conversation with, 
 on the French Revolution, 164; quali- 
 ties of, 179; confidence :<i, 181 ; decla- 
 ration against reform, 186 ; crowned 
 by the Duchess of Cannizzaro, 335 ; 
 quarrel with the Duke of Clarence, 336. 
 
 Westmeath v. Westmeath, appeal before 
 the Judicial Committee, 277 ; decision 
 in, 292. 
 
 Wharncliffe, Lord, interview with Radi- 
 cal Jones, 223. 
 
 William IV., King, accession of, 146 ; 
 dislike of, to the Duke of Cumber- 
 land, 1 50 ; behavior of, 150; at the 
 
 House of Lords, 155; personal anec- 
 dotes of, 156-160; dinner at Apsley 
 House, 158; at Windsor, 168; health 
 of, 200 ; mobbed on returning from the 
 theatre, 202 ; in mourning for his son- 
 in-law, 206 ; in the House of Lords, 
 209; dissolves Parliament, 209: at 
 Ascot, 210; opens Parliament, 213 ; at 
 Windsor, 215; and the bishops, 216; 
 divides the old great seal, 218; 
 crowned at Westminster, 219; levee, 
 221; toasts at dinner at St. James's, 
 222 ; dinner to the Jockey Club, 229 ; 
 character of, 23 1 ; struck by a stone, 
 231; anecdotes of, 242; state of mind 
 of, 246; animosity to the French, 257 ; 
 irritability of, 271 ; conduct of, 272 ; on 
 the state of Persia, 293 ; whims of, 295 ; 
 Island of St. Bartholomew, 295 ; per- 
 sonal habits of, 300; conduct to the 
 Speaker, 301 ; scene with Lord Tor- 
 rington, 302; joke, 316; proposes the 
 health of the Princess Victoria, 317; 
 aversion to his ministers, 317; speech 
 to Lord Minto, 317; rudeness to the 
 Duchess of Kent, 318; scene at birth- 
 day party, 318; reception of King 
 Leopold, 321 ; illness of, 33 1-336 ; letter 
 to the Princess Victoria, 332 ; dangerous 
 illness of, 335 ; prayers offered up for, 
 333; death of, 336; kindness of heart 
 of, 340. 
 
 Winchelsea, Earl of, duel of, with the 
 Duke of Wellington, 66 ; incident of 
 the handkerchief, 69. 
 
 Windham, Right Hon. William, diary of, 
 85 ; conversation with Doctor Johnson, 
 86. 
 
 Windsor Castle, dinner in St. George's 
 Hall, 174, 180: dinner during the Ascot 
 week, 211. 
 
 Woburn, party at, 13 ; riot at, 195. 
 
 Wordsworth, William, characteristics of, 
 204. 
 
 York, H. R. H. the Duke of, character 
 of, 3 ; dislike to the Duke of Welling- 
 ton, 29 ; duel with the Duke of Rich- 
 mond, 36 ; anecdotes of King George 
 IV., 41 ; illness of, 43, 45 ; death of, 
 44 ; funeral of, 48. 
 
 York, H. R. H. the Duchess of, char- 
 acter of, 3 ; portrait of, 6 ; illness of, 16 ; 
 death of, 20.
 
 " Infinite riches in a little room, " MARLOWE, 
 THE 
 
 BRIC-A-BRAC SERIES. 
 
 Personal Keminiscences of Famous Poets and Novelists, Wits and 
 Humorists, Artists, Actors, Musicians, and the like. 
 
 EDITED BY 
 
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 and execution .... If this first volume is a fair specimen of his judgment 
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 An Important Historical Series. 
 
 EPOCHS OF HISTORY. 
 
 EDITED BY 
 
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 Of Lincoln College, Oxford. 
 Head Master of the Bedfordshire Middle-Class Public School. &c. 
 
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 The ERA of the PROTESTANT REVOLUTION. By F. SeEnoHM, Author 
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 The CRUSADES. By the Rev. G. W. Cox, M.A., Author of the " History o. 
 Greece." 
 
 The THIRTY YEARS' WAR. I6i8 1648. Ry SAMUEL RAWSON OARDINEB 
 The HOUSES of LANCASTER and YORK; with the CONQUEST 
 snd LOSS of FRANCE. By JAMES GAIRDNER, of the Public Record Office. 
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