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Title: The Greville Memoirs, Part 1 (of 3), Volume 1 (of 3)

Author: Charles Greville

Editor: Henry Reeve

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The Greville Memoirs

A JOURNAL OF THE REIGNS

OF

KING GEORGE IV.

AND

KING WILLIAM IV.

BY THE LATE

Charles C. F. Greville, Esq.
CLERK OF THE COUNCIL TO THOSE SOVEREIGNS

EDITED BY

HENRY REEVE
REGISTRAR OF THE PRIVY COUNCIL

IN THREE VOLUMES
VOL. I.

Second Edition

LONDON
LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO.
1874

CONTENTS.

INDEX.

PREFACE
BY THE EDITOR
The Author of these Journals requested me, 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
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 responsibility; 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
intended to leave these Journals, died before him. After that event, deeply to
be regretted on so many accounts, Mr. Greville did me the honour to select
me for the performance of this duty, which was unexpected by myself; and
my strong attachment and gratitude to him for numberless 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:
—

‘A journal to be good, true, and interesting, should be 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 containing matters about myself which nobody will
care to know’ (January 2nd, 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
eminent 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 altered 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 acknowledges
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 judgment of history must be based upon contemporary
evidence. 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 varying, 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 were the love of
truth and the love of justice. His natural curiosity, which led him to track
out and analyse the causes of events with great eagerness, was stimulated
by the desire to arrive at their real origin, and to award to everyone, 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 sympathised with the cause of Liberal progress and Conservative
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
aristocracy, 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 position, 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 consummate 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 ambition and from vanity. No man was more entirely
disinterested 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 happening around him, will be thought to possess a permanent value
and interest. But I am aware that opinions governed by no party standard
will appear to a certain 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 omissions I have thought it right to make
are a few passages 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.
It will be observed that these Journals begin in the year 1818, when
Mr. Greville was barely twenty-four years of age, and indeed I possess
some notes of an earlier period, which it was not thought desirable to
include in this publication. At that age Mr. Greville had but a short
experience of life, without the opportunities of information which he
subsequently enjoyed; consequently the first two or three chapters of the
first volume are of secondary interest, and the political value of the work
begins with the retirement of Lord Liverpool. But it is by his own express
desire that these chapters are retained to complete the series, and the
particulars relating to the Duke of York and to the Queen’s trial are not
without interest. As the Author advanced in life his narrative increases in
value both in substance and in style, and the most important portion of it is
that which must at present be reserved for future publication.
Of the Author of these Journals it may suffice to say that Charles
Cavendish Fulke Greville was the eldest of the three sons of Charles
Greville (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
2nd 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 University early, having been appointed private secretary to
Earl Bathurst before he was twenty.
The influence of the Duke of Portland obtained for him early in life the
sinecure appointment of the Secretaryship 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 18th of January,

1865, he expired. I was with him on the previous 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. So likewise are the notes distinguished by no mark. For the notes
included in brackets [] the Editor is responsible.
Henry Reeve.
October 1st, 1874

Contents of the First Volume
CHAPTER I.

Queen Charlotte — Duchesses of Cumberland and Cambridge
— Westminster Election — Contest between Sir Francis Burdett
and Sir Murray Maxwell — London Election — Oatlands —
The Duke of York — Duchess of York — Ampthill — Tixall —
Mr. Luttrell — Lady Granville — Teddesley — Macao —
Burleigh — Middleton — Lady Jersey — The New Parliament
— Tierney and Pitt — Princess Lieven — Madame de Staël on
the French Revolution — Westminster Election — Hobhouse
Defeated — Scarlett’s Maiden Speech — Influence of Party —
Play — The Persian Ambassador at Court — Prince Leopold —
Woburn — Anecdote of the Allies — Death of George III. —
Illness of George IV. — Queen Caroline — Fleury de
Chabaulon — The Cato Street Conspiracy — George IV. at
Ascot — Marchioness of Conyngham — Queen Caroline in
London — Message to Parliament — Debates —
Insubordination in the Guards — Wilberforce’s Motion —
Proceedings against the Queen — ‘Les Liaisons dangereuses’ —
The Queen’s Trial — The Duke of Wellington on the Battle of
Waterloo and the Occupation of Paris.

CHAPTER II.

Popularity of George IV. — The Duke of York’s Racing
Establishment — Clerk of the Council — Lord Liverpool and
Mr. Sumner — Lady Conyngham — Death of Lady Worcester
— Her Character — Ball at Devonshire House — The Duke of
York’s Aversion to the Duke of Wellington — The Pavilion at
Brighton — Lord Francis Conyngham — The King and the
Duke of Wellington — Death of the Marquis of Londonderry —
His Policy — Sir B. Bloomfield sent to Stockholm — Mr.
Canning’s Foreign Secretary — Queen Caroline and Brougham

— Canning and George IV. — Lord William Bentinck aspires to
go to India — His Disappointment — The Duke of York’s Duel
with Colonel Lennox — George III.’s Will — George IV.
appropriates the late King’s Personal Property — The Duke of
Wellington on the Congress of Verona and on the Politics of
Europe — Intervention in Spain — Ferdinand VII. — M. de
Villèle — The Duke’s Opinion of Napoleon — Sir William
Knighton — The Duke of York’s Anecdotes of George IV. —
Death of the Marquis of Titchfield — His Character

CHAPTER III.

The Panic of 1825 — Death of the Emperor Alexander — The
Duke of Wellington’s Embassy to St. Petersburg — Robinson
Chancellor of the Exchequer — Small Notes Bill — Death of
Arthur de Ros — George III. and Lord Bute — Illness and
Death of the Duke of York — His Funeral — Lord Liverpool
struck with Paralysis — Rundell’s Fortune and Will — Copley
and Philpots — The Cottage — Formation of Mr. Canning’s
Administration — Secession of the Tories — The Whigs join
him — Dinner at the Royal Lodge — Difficulties of Canning’s
Government — Duke of Wellington visits the King —
Canning’s Death — Anecdotes of Mr. Canning — Recognition
of South American States — His Industry — The Duke of
Wellington on Canning — Lord Goderich’s Administration
formed — The Difficulty about Herries — Position of the Whigs
— The King’s Letter to Herries — Peel and George IV. —
Interview of Lord Lansdowne with the King — Weakness of the
Government — First Resignation of Lord Goderich — Lord
Harrowby declines the Premiership — Lord Goderich returns —
Brougham and Rogers — Conversation and Character of
Brougham — Lord Goderich’s Ministry dissolved — Cause of
its Dissolution — Hostility of Herries — Position of Huskisson
and his Friends — Herries and Huskisson both join the New
Cabinet

CHAPTER IV.

The Duke of Wellington’s Administration — Huskisson’s
Speech — Irritation of Mr. Canning’s Friends — Tom
Duncombe’s Maiden Speech — Mr. Huskisson resigns and the
Canningites quit the Government — Princess Lieven hostile to
the Duke — The Catholic Question — Jockey Club Dinner at
St. James’s — Lord Lyndhurst — Sir Robert Adair — Fox and
Burke — Fox and Pitt — The Lord High Admiral dismissed by
the King — Dawson’s Speech on Catholic Emancipation — The
King’s Health — His Pages — State of Ireland — Marquis of
Anglesey — O’Connell — His Influence in Ireland — Lord
Belmore Governor of Jamaica — The Duke’s Letter to Dr.
Curtis — Recall of Lord Anglesey from Ireland — Causes of
this Event — Excitement of the King on the Catholic Question
— His Aversion to Sir William Knighton — Character of
George IV. — Denman’s Silk Gown — Pension to Lady
Westmeath — Duke of Wellington on Russia — The Reis-
Effendi — Duke of Northumberland goes to Ireland — Privy
Council Register — State Paper Office — The Gunpowder Plot
— Catholic Emancipation — Navarino

CHAPTER V.

The Catholic Relief Bill — Inconsistency of the Tories — The
Catholic Association — Dinner at Charles Grant’s — The
Terceira Expedition — Tory Discontent — Peel resigns his Seat
for Oxford University — A Blunder in Chancery — The Oxford
Election — Influence of the Duke of Wellington — Debate of
Royal Dukes — Peel beaten — Sir Edward Codrington —
Violence of the King — Intrigues to defeat the Catholic Bill —
The Duke of Cumberland — Furious State of Parties —
Matuscewitz — Peel’s Speech on Catholic Emancipation —
Exclusion of O’Connell from his Seat for Clare — Pitt’s View of
Catholic Emancipation — ‘Musæ Cateatonenses’ — ‘Thorough’
— Mr. Lowther not turned out — Duke of Newcastle’s
Audience of George IV. — The King’s Personal Habits — The
Debate — Mr. Sadler — Hardness of the Duke of Wellington —
His Duel with Lord Winchelsea — The Bishops and the Bill —

Sir Charles Wetherell — The King on the Duel — Lord
Winchelsea’s Pocket-handkerchief — Debate on the Catholic
Bill — The Duke of Richmond — Effects of Dawson’s Speech
on the King — The Bill in Jeopardy — Lady Jersey and Lord
Anglesey — Lord Falmouth and Lord Grey — O’Connell at
Dinner — The Duke breaks with Lord Eldon — Hibner the
Murderess — Theatrical Fund — The Levee — The Duke’s
Carriage stopped — The King’s Health — Lady Conyngham —
O’Connell’s Seat — Child’s Ball at Court — Princess Victoria
— Legal Appointments — Lord Palmerston on Foreign Affairs
— The King and Lord Sefton — The King’s Speech on the
Prorogation — Madame Du Cayla — George IV.’s Inaccuracy
— Conversation of the Duke of Wellington on the King and the
Duke of Cumberland

CHAPTER VI.

The Recorder’s Report — Manners of George IV — Intrigues of
the Duke of Cumberland — Insults Lady Lyndhurst — Deacon
Hume at the Board of Trade — Quarrel between the Duke of
Cumberland and the Lord Chancellor — A Bad Season —
Prostration of Turkey — France under Polignac — State of
Ireland — Mr. Windham’s Diary — George IV.’s Eyesight —
Junius — A Man without Money — Court-martial on Captain
Dickenson — The Duke and the ‘Morning Journal’ — Physical
Courage of the King — A Charade at Chatsworth — Huskisson
and the Duke — Irish Trials — Tom Moore — Scott — Byron
— Fanny Kemble — Sir James Mackintosh — His
Conversation — Black Irishmen — Moore’s Irish Story —
Moore’s Singing — George IV. and Mr. Denman — Strawberry
Hill — Moore at Trinity College — Indian Vengeance at
Niagara — Count Woronzow — Lord Glengall’s Play — The
Recorder’s Report

CHAPTER VII.

Chapter of the Bath — The Duc de Dino arrested — A Ball to
the Divan — English Policy in Greece — Sir Thomas Lawrence

— Gallatin — Court of King’s Bench — Accident to the Grand
Duke Constantine — Osterley — Young Sidney Herbert —
Duke of Wellington in Office — Stapleton’s ‘Life of Canning’
— Death of Sir Thomas Lawrence — Leopold and the Throne
of Greece — Canning’s Answers to Lord Grey — Distressed
State of the Country — Canning’s Greatness and his Failings —
Death of Tierney — Sir Martin Shee President — The Duke of
Wellington’s Views and Conduct — The coming Session —
Moore’s ‘Life of Byron’ — Character of Byron — Opening of
Parliament — The Fire King — The Duke of Wellington’s
Speaking — The English Opera House burnt down — Lord
Thurlow on Kenyon and Buller — Old Rothschild —
Lansdowne House — Earl Stanhope — John Murray —
Departure for Italy

CHAPTER VIII.

Calais — Beau Brummell — Paris — The Polignac Ministry —
Polignac and Charles X. — The Duke of Orleans — State of
Parties — Talleyrand — Lyons — First Impressions of
Mountain Scenery — Mont Cenis — Turin — Marengo —
Genoa — Road to Florence — Pisa — Florence — Lord and
Lady Burghersh — Thorwaldsen — Lord Cochrane — Rome —
St. Peter’s — Frascati — Grotto Ferrata — Queen Hortense and
Louis Napoleon — Coliseum — Death of Lady Northampton —
The Moses — Gardens — Palm Sunday — Sistine Chapel —
The Cardinals — Popes — Cardinal Albani — The Farnese
Palace — A Dead Cardinal — Pasquin — Statue of Pompey —
Galleries and Catacombs — Bunsen — The Papal Benediction
— Ceremonies of the Holy Week — The Grand Penitentiary —
A Confession — Protestant Cemetery — Illumination of St.
Peter’s — Torlonia — Bunsen on the Forum

CHAPTER IX.

Lake of Albano — Velletri — Naples — Rapid Travelling in
1830 — A Trial at Naples — Deciphering Manuscripts — Ball
at the Duchesse d’Eboli’s — Matteis’s Plot and Trial — Pompeii

— Taking the Veil — Pausilippo — Baiæ — La Cava —
Salerno — Pæstum — Lazaroni — Museum of Naples —
Grotto del Cane — The Camaldoli — Herculaneum — Vesuvius
— Sorrento — Miracle of St. Januarius — Astroni — Farewell
to Naples

CHAPTER X.

Moladi Gaeta — Capua — Lines on leaving Naples — Return
to Rome — The Aqueducts — ‘Domine, quo vadis?’ — St.
Peter’s — The Scala Santa — Reasons in Favour of San
Gennaro — Ascent of St. Peter’s — Library of the Vatican — A
racing ex voto — Illness of George IV. — Approaching Coup
d’État in France — The Villa Mills — The Malaria — Duc and
Duchesse de Dalberg — The Emperor Nicholas on his
Accession — Cardinal Albani — A Columbarium — Maii — Sir
William Gell — Tivoli — Hadrian’s Villa — The Adventures of
Miss Kelly and Mr. Swift — Audience of the Pope — Gibson’s
Studio — End of Miss Kelly’s Marriage — A Great Function —
The Jesuits — Saint-making — San Lorenzo in Lucina — The
Flagellants — Statues by Torchlight — Bunsen on the State of
Rome — Frascati — Relations of Protestant States with Rome
— The French Ministry — M. de Villèle — The Coliseum —
Excommunication of a Thief — The Passionists — The Corpus
Domini — A Rash Marriage — Farewell to Rome — Falls of
Terni — Statue at Pratolino — Bologna — Mezzofanti —
Ferrara — Venice — Padua — Vicenza — Brescia — Verona —
Milan — Lago Maggiore — The Simplon — Geneva — Paris

NOTE.
Mr. Greville’s Connexion with the Turf.

A JOURNAL
OF THE
REIGN OF KING GEORGE THE
FOURTH

CHAPTER I.
Queen Charlotte — Duchesses of Cumberland and Cambridge
— Westminster Election — Contest between Sir Francis Burdett
and Sir Murray Maxwell — London Election — Oatlands —
The Duke of York — Duchess of York — Ampthill — Tixall —
Mr. Luttrell — Lady Granville — Teddesley — Macao —
Burleigh — Middleton — Lady Jersey — The New Parliament
— Tierney and Pitt — Princess Lieven — Madame de Staël on
the French Revolution — Westminster Election — Hobhouse
Defeated — Scarlett’s Maiden Speech — Influence of Party —
Play — The Persian Ambassador at Court — Prince Leopold —
Woburn — Anecdote of the Allies — Death of George III. —
Illness of George IV. — Queen Caroline — Fleury de
Chabaulon — The Cato Street Conspiracy — George IV. at
Ascot — Marchioness of Conyngham — Queen Caroline in
London — Message to Parliament — Debates —
Insubordination in the Guards — Wilberforce’s Motion —
Proceedings against the Queen — ‘Les Liaisons dangereuses’ —
The Queen’s Trial — The Duke of Wellington on the Battle of
Waterloo and the Occupation of Paris.

1818.
I 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 frequent opportunities of mixing in the society of
celebrated men, some particulars about them might be interesting hereafter.

June 7th, 1818
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
LAST YEARS OF THE REGENCY. over the Ministers. It is said that there will be 100
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]
[1] [Queen Charlotte, consort of George III., died on the 17th of November of this year, 1818.]

The Duchess of Cambridge[2] has been received in a most 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 arrival the Duke took her to walk in the Park, when
she was so terrified by the pressure of the mob about her that she nearly
fainted away.
[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 Cumberland, the King’s fourth son, married on the 29th
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; and the position in which she was
placed contrasted strongly with that of the Duchess of Cambridge on her marriage.]

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 21st, 1818
I dined at Holland House last Thursday. The party consisted of Lord
Lansdowne, Mr. Frere, and Mrs. Tierney and her son. After dinner Mr. Frere
repeated to us a great deal of that part of ‘Whistlecraft’ which is not yet
published.[3] 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.
[3] [The whole poem of ‘Whistlecraft’ has since been republished in the collected works of the
Right Hon. Hookham Frere.]

On Friday I went to the Stud-house, where a great party was assembled
to see the stock and buy them. After visiting the paddocks, Bloomfield[4]
gave a magnificent dinner to A GENERAL ELECTION. the company in a tent near
the house; it was the finest feast I ever saw, but the badness of the weather
spoilt the entertainment.
[4] [Sir Benjamin Bloomfield filled the offices of Marshal and Chief Equerry to the Regent, and
in 1817 he became Receiver-General of the Duchy of Cornwall and Keeper of the Privy Purse to the
Prince. The Stud-house of Hampton Court had been given him as a residence. He was raised to the
peerage in 1825.]

The Queen’s illness was occasioned by information which she received
of the Duchesses of Cumberland and Cambridge having met and embraced.
This meeting took place as if by accident, but really by appointment, in
Kew Gardens; and the Duke of Cambridge himself informed the Queen of
it. She was in such a rage that the spasm was brought on, and she was very
near dying.

June 24th, 1818
The elections are carried on with great violence, and every day we hear
of fresh contests being in agitation. The disgraceful scenes which have
taken place in Westminster excite universal shame and indignation. The
mob seem to have shaken off the feelings and the usual character of
Englishmen, and in the brutal attacks which they have made on Captain
Maxwell have displayed the savage ferocity which marked the mobs of
Paris in the worst times. He has been so much hurt that his life is now in

danger. Sir F. Burdett told me this morning that as soon as he was at the
head of the poll he thought he should appear upon the hustings and thank
the people for having raised him thus high. It is supposed that Burdett has
laid out 10,000 ℓ . on this election, though his friends do not acknowledge
that he has spent anything. It is clear that the open houses, cockades, and
bands of music we have seen these three days were not procured for
nothing.
Lord Castlereagh went to the hustings, and voted for Sir Murray
Maxwell; he was hooted, pelted, and got off with some difficulty. His
Lordship’s judgment was not very conspicuous on this occasion; both Sir
Murray’s friends and enemies are of opinion that Lord Castlereagh’s vote
did him a great deal of harm and turned many men against him. The
severest contests will be in Wiltshire, Herefordshire, Devonshire, and
Lincolnshire. The elections are going against Government generally; in
London particularly, as the Ministers lose one seat in the Borough and two
in the City. This last election is the most unexpected of all. Curtis has been
member for twenty-eight years, and has been used to come in very high on
the poll. On this occasion the contest between him and Alderman Thorpe
was severe, but Curtis would have carried it had not Wood and Waithman
coalesced with Thorpe the last day, and thrown their spare votes over to
him; this determined the election in his favour.[5]
[5] [Sir William Curtis was the Ministerial candidate in the City of London; he was thrown out,
and Messrs. Wood, Waithman, Wilson, and Thorpe were returned.]

June 30th, 1818
There was an affray yesterday afternoon in Covent Garden. Sir Murray
Maxwell’s people paraded about a large boat drawn by six horses. Burdett’s
mob attacked and demolished the boat, and this action having raised their
spirits, the contest continued. The consequence was that a large party of
Horse Guards were marched into Covent Garden, and paraded there during
the rest of the night. The people expressed their discontent by cries of ‘This
is what they call freedom of election!’ ‘Burdett for ever!’ &c.[6]
[6] [The Westminster election terminated as follows:—Sir Samuel Romilly, 5,339; Sir Francis
Burdett, 5,238; Sir Murray Maxwell, 4,808; Henry Hunt, 84.]

August 4th, 1818
I went to Oatlands[7] 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 ourselves 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 England; there are a great many servants, and nobody waits on you; a
vast number of horses, and none to ride or drive.
[7] [Oatlands Park, Weybridge, at that time the residence of the Duke of York.]

August 15th, 1818
The parties at Oatlands take place every DUKE AND DUCHESS OF YORK.
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
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.[8] The Duchess generally plays also
at half-crown whist. The Duke always gets up very early, whatever time he
may go to bed. On Sunday 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 breakfasts 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[9] is clever and well-informed; she likes society and dislikes 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, and allusions which would shock a very nice person. But
her own conversation is never polluted with anything the least indelicate or
unbecoming. She is very sensible to little attentions, and is annoyed if
anybody appears to keep aloof from her or to shun conversing with her. Her
dogs are her greatest interest and amusement, and she has at least forty of
various kinds. She is delighted when anybody gives her a dog, or a monkey,
or a parrot, of all of which she has a vast number; 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 intimate 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 splendour or magnificence, and likes to live
the life of a private individual as much as possible.
[8] [Five-pound points and twenty-five pounds on the rubber.]
[9] [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, 1820.]

The Duke of York is not clever, 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
honourably distinguished, the Duke of York is loved and respected. He is
the only one of the Princes who has the feelings 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
gaiety and pleasure. He is very easily amused, and particularly with DUKE AND
DUCHESS OF YORK. jokes full of coarseness and indelicacy; the men with whom
he lives most are très-polissons, and la polissonnerie is the ton of his
society. But his aides-de-camp and friends, while they do not scruple to say
everything before and to him, always treat him with attention 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 separately their own occupations and amusements without
interfering 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 tenaciousness 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 3rd, 1818
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 played 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 Lawrence paint her picture, and send a miniature
copied from that. She declared she could not afford it; we then said, if she
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,[10] September 9th, 1818
I rode down here to-day, Alvanley and Montrond came in a chaise and
four, and were only three hours and three-quarters coming from town.
Luttrell and Rogers are here. The dinner very bad, because the cook is out
of humour. The evening passed off heavily.
[10] [Ampthill Park, at that time the seat of Lord and Lady Holland, who had inherited 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.]

Ampthill, September 11th, 1818
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 seventeen years
old, son of one of the richest Spanish grandees. He has 70,000ℓ. a year. The
Duke of Medina-Cœli before the French invasion had 215,000ℓ. 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 30th, 1818
CHARACTER OF MR. LUTTRELL.I went to Tixall[11] on Tuesday, the 10th of
November. There were Luttrell, Nugent, Montagu, Granville Somerset (who
went away the next day), and afterwards Granville Vernon, Wilmot, and Mr.
Donald. I never remember so agreeable a party—‘le bon goût, les ris,
l’aimable liberté.’ Everybody was pleased because each did what he
pleased, and the tone of the society was gay, simple, and clever.
[11] [Tixall, the seat of Sir Clifford Constable in Staffordshire, was let at this time to Lord and
Lady Granville.]

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
recollects 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 disconcerted, and resents want of tact in
others, because he is so liable to suffer from any breach of it. A sceptic 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 ascendancy over pomp, vanity, and the adventitious
circumstances of birth or position. Born in mystery,[12] he has always
shrouded himself in a secresy which none of his acquaintance have ever

endeavoured to penetrate. He has connections, but they are unknown or
only guessed at. He has occupations, amusements, and interests
unconnected with 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 tête-à-tête. Many men
infinitely less clever converse 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, unlaboured talk. This
only applies to him when in general society; when alone with another
person he talks as agreeably as possible.
[12] [Mr. Luttrell was believed to be a natural son of Lord Carhampton. He had sat in the last
Irish Parliament before the Union, and died about 1855 at a very advanced age.]

Nugent is clever, and in many respects a more amiable companion than
Luttrell, though very inferior to him in ability. He is well-informed,
gentlemanlike, sensible, with good manners, good taste, and has a talent for
music; he is always in good humour, and discriminating without being
difficult.
Lady Granville[13] has a great deal of genial humour, strong feelings,
enthusiasm, delicacy, refinement, good taste, naïveté which just misses
being affectation, and a bonhomie which extends to all around her.
[13] [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.]

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 chère, ce qui ajoute beaucoup à l’agrément de la
société. Je ne dis pas ceci par rapport à mes propres goûts; mais parce que
je l’ai observé, et que les philosophes n’y sont pas plus indifférents que les
bons vivants.’

When the party at Tixall was over we all removed to PARTY AT TIXALL.
Teddesley. Littleton[14] is good-natured, liberal, hospitable, and anxious to
oblige, but he wants tact, and his table is more copious than refined. The
house is ugly and in an ugly situation; the rooms are small, but not ill
furnished. The dinners were not good, and Luttrell and Nugent were both
very angry at the badness of the fare. We had a brilliant chasse. Luttrell left
Teddesley on Monday, the Granvilles on Sunday, and Nugent and I on
Tuesday; we travelled together to Oxford. He is very agreeable, full of
information, and has a great facility in expressing himself. We parted at
Oxford. I went to Redrice, and came to town on Sunday.
[14] [Edward Littleton, Esq., at that time M.P. for the county of Stafford; raised to the Privy
Council in 1833, when he became Chief Secretary for Ireland, and to the peerage under the title of
Baron Hatherton in 1835.]

Tixall was the most agreeable party I ever was at. We were all pleased
and satisfied; we played at whist, and afterwards at macao. Littleton was the
greatest winner and Lord Granville the loser. I wrote a description of the
macao in verse:—
MACAO
The solemn chime from out the ancient tower[15]
Invites to Macao at th’ accustomed hour.
The welcome summons heard, around the board
Each takes his seat and counts his iv’ry hoard.
’Tis strange to see how in 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[16] through her glass with keen delight
Observes the brisk beginnings of the fight;
To some propitious, but to me unkind,
With candour owns the bias of her mind,
And asks of Fortune the severe decree
T’ enrich the happy Skew,[17] to ruin me.
The fickle Goddess heard one-half the prayer,
The rest was melted into empty air;
For while she smiled complacent on the Skew,[18]

On me she shed some trifling favours too.
Sure Granville’s luck exceeds all other men’s
Led through a sad variety of tens;[19]
The rest have sometimes eights and nines, but he
Is always followed by ‘the jolly three;’[20]
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.[21]
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 favoured by the nine.[22]
THE JOLLY TENS.
Quoth Greville, ‘The commandments are divine;
But as they’re ten, I lay them on the shelf:
O could they change their number and be nine,
I’d keep them all, and keep them to myself!’
Thus we trifled life away.
[15] A clock tower.
[16] Lady Granville.
[17] E. Montagu.
[18] We gave him this nickname.
[19] Tens, ruinous at macao.
[20] Tens.
[21] The middle pin, a large gain.
[22] Nines are the grand desiderata at macao.

1819.

January 17th, 1819
I went to Burleigh on the 23rd of December; there was no one there
but Irby. The house disappointed me very much, but it is a very fine
showplace. I went away on the 27th to Middleton; there were the Culling
Smiths, Worcesters, Sir James Mackintosh, Ossulstons, Nugent, &c.; it was
very agreeable, and the house extremely comfortable. Lady Jersey[23] is an
extraordinary woman, and has many good qualities; surrounded as she LADY
JERSEY. is by flatterers and admirers, she is neither proud nor conceited. She
is full of vivacity, spirit, and good nature, but the wide range of her
sympathies and affections proves that she has more general benevolence
than particular sensibility in her character. She performs all the ordinary
duties of life with great correctness, because her heart is naturally good; and
she is, perhaps, from her temperament exposed to fewer temptations than
the generality of her sex. She is deficient in passion and in softness (which
constitute the greatest charm in women), so that she excites more of
admiration than of interest; in conversation she is lively and pleasant,
without being very remarkable, for she has neither wit, nor imagination, nor
humour; her understanding is active rather than strong, and her judgment is
too often warped by prejudice to be sound. She has a retentive memory and
a restless mind, together with a sort of intellectual arrangement, with which
she appears rather to have been gifted by nature than to have derived it from
the cultivation of her reasoning faculties.
[23] [Sarah Sophia, eldest daughter of John, tenth Earl of Westmoreland, and heiress of Robert
Child, Esq., of Osterley Park, her maternal grandfather.]

I went from Middleton to Oatlands. The Duke was not there. We had
the Smiths, Worcesters, Alvanley, Stanhope, Rogers, Luttrell, George
Dawson, Lord Lauderdale, &c. Lord Erskine was ill, and Lord Lauderdale
was taking care of him. The house was very uncomfortable, and the room I
was in small, noisy, and inconvenient.

I came to London on Friday last. Parliament having met on the
Thursday, it is very full, and is filling more and more every day. The
Opposition expect to divide 180 on the Bank question; they talk of re-
establishing the dinners which they used to have in Fox’s time.
Rogers is in a nervous state about his poem, and trembles at the
reviewers.[24]
[24] [Rogers’ poem entitled ‘Human Life’ was on the eve of publication. The reviewers treated it
more tenderly than it deserved, as appears below.]

January 28th, 1819
I went to Gorhambury on the 24th to shoot. The Duke of York was
there. We should have had a brilliant chasse, but it rained. We went out at
three and killed 105 pheasants.
There has been some skirmishing in the House of Commons,
particularly the night before last, on Dr. Halloran’s petition, when the
Opposition (Bennet duce) got completely beaten. Many of the new
members have spoken, but Mr. Lawson, a soi-disant wit, and Sir R. Wilson
have failed lamentably. It is odd enough that Wilson made a reply to an
attack which Cobbett had inserted in one of his papers upon him. Cobbett
said that he would make a silly speech in Parliament and destroy himself,
and it is just what he did. The Opposition were very angry with Sir J.
Coffin, who, with the candour of a novice, had made himself informed of
the facts of the petition, and finding they were against his friends, said so in
the House.
Arbuthnot told me some particulars about Tierney. He began by being
a friend of Mr. Pitt, and in one of his speeches on the Southwark or
Colchester election he praised him in opposition to Mr. Fox. This latter
never liked him, and the Regent assured Arbuthnot he had letters of Tierney
in his possession thanking him for having endeavoured to remove Mr. Fox’s
antipathy to him. When Addington came in, Pitt advised him to get Tierney,
as nobody would be so useful to him. He did accordingly, and so Tierney
became a member of the Administration.[25] When Pitt came again into
office a negotiation was opened with him through the medium of Charles

Long. He was offered the Chief Secretaryship in Ireland, which he wished
to have, but he made it a condition that he should not be in Parliament. To
this Mr. Pitt would not agree, as he said that he must commit himself with
them entirely or not join them at all; he refused, not choosing to commit
himself, and the negotiations broke off.
[25] [Right Hon. George Tierney, Treasurer of the Navy and P.C. in 1803. President of the Board
of Control in October, 1806, Member of the Mint in 1827.]

January 31st, 1819
I dined with Lady Bathurst yesterday. We talked of the approaching
contests in Parliament, and she said that she felt more apprehensive now
than ever she had done for the safety of the Government, that it was
impossible PRINCESS LIEVEN. for Ministers to stay in if they were defeated, as
they had occasionally been in the last Parliament, and that if they were
defeated she should attribute it all to Vansittart, who is a millstone about
their necks. I asked why they did not get rid of him, and she said that it was
from good-nature; they had scruples about telling him he was inefficient
and must resign. She said that Canning’s conduct had been so good towards
them, they were very anxious to put him in some more considerable office.

February 3rd, 1819
I went with Bouverie to Newmarket on Monday 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
brilliantly 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 understandings of the generality of her
acquaintance has made her indifferent to please and incapable of taking any
delight in general society. Her manners are very dignified and graceful, and
she is extremely accomplished. She sometimes endeavours 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.[26]
[26] [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.]

February 5th, 1819
I have finished Madame de Staël’s ‘Considérations sur la Révolution
Française.’ It is the best of her works, extremely eloquent, containing the
soundest political opinions conveyed in a bold and eloquent style. It is
perhaps too philosophical and not sufficiently relieved by anecdotes and
historical illustrations. Her defence 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.[27]
[27] [In the latter years of Madame de Staël’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 Staël expressed the most passionate
regard.]

February 9th, 1819
The Opposition are in a state of the highest exultation on account of
the division in the House of Commons last night on Brougham’s being
added to the Bank Committee. The numbers were 173 to 135. They triumph

particularly in this strong minority because the attack upon Brougham in the
‘Quarterly Review’ was deemed so successful by the Ministerial party that
they thought he would not be able to lift up his head again. The review is
extremely well done, as all allow. It is supposed to be written by Dr. Ireland
[it was by Dr. Monk[28]], and that Canning supplied the jokes, but
Arbuthnot assured me he had no hand in it.
[28] [Dr. Monk, not Dr. Ireland, was the author of the article. Monk became Bishop of
Gloucester in 1830. This passage relates to the celebrated article on the Report of Mr. Brougham’s
Committee on the Education of the People which appeared in the ‘Quarterly Review’ of December
1818. The article was a violent one, but it is amusing to see the effects attributed to it at the time.
Some controversy has since taken place as to the share Canning had in it. I have myself seen the
letters from Gifford (editor of the ‘Review’) to Dr. Monk, in which he speaks of the additions which
have been made to the article; and there is the strongest internal evidence that these purpurei panni
were added by Canning. The subject is discussed in the ‘Edinburgh Review’ for July 1858.]

February 10th, 1819
Wilberforce made a speech last night which reminded one of the better
days of the House of WESTMINSTER ELECTION. Commons. He presented a petition
from the Quakers against the Criminal Code, and introduced a compliment
to Romilly. Castlereagh was in a minority in the Committee concerning the
equerries of the Windsor establishment; he wished to keep two more than
Tierney proposed; the latter had eight to six in the Committee.[29]
[29] [In consequence of the death of Queen Charlotte in the preceding month of November, the
Government visited the Windsor establishment. The Duke of York was appointed custos personæ of
the King, and received in that capacity 10,000ℓ. a year, which had previously been allowed to the
Queen. A debate took place on this subject on the 25th of February, which is referred to by Mr.
Greville under that date.]

February 14th, 1819
George Lamb has been proposed in opposition to Hobhouse.[30] The
latter drew this opposition upon himself by his speech, and still more by the
reports of his Committee, in which they abused the Whigs in unmeasured
terms. Lambton went to Hobhouse and asked him if he would disavow the
abuse of Lord Grey, which his Committee had inserted in the document
they printed; he refused, on which the opposition was determined upon and

begun. McDonald proposed Lamb, but they would not hear him; Evans
seconded him. G. Jones made a very good speech in proposing Cartwright.
Burdett and Kinnaird both spoke with moderation in proposing Hobhouse.
It is generally supposed that Lamb will win.
[30] [The death of Sir Samuel Romilly in November 1818 caused a vacancy in the
representation of Westminster, and another election took place upon the meeting of Parliament. The
numbers were: Hon. George Lamb, 4,465; John Cam Hobhouse, 3,861; Major Cartwright, 38.]

Rogers’ poem is disliked; the cry is all against it; some of the lines are
pretty, but it is not perspicuous enough, and is deficient in novelty and
force.

February 18th, 1819
Yesterday Lamb was only seven behind Hobhouse on the poll;
everybody thinks he is sure to win, even if Burdett should come forward
with money. The day before there was great uproar and much abuse on the
hustings. Burdett made a shameful speech full of blasphemy and
Jacobinism, but he seems to have lost his popularity in a great measure even
with the blackguards of Westminster. Hobhouse yesterday was long and
dull; he did not speak like a clever man, and if the people would have heard
Lamb, and he has any dexterity in reply, he must have crushed him—it was
so answerable a speech.
I went to the Berrys[31] in the evening, where the blues and the wits
were assembled; as Sidney Smith said, ‘the conversation raged,’ but there
was nothing remarkably entertaining.
[31] [Miss Berry’s well-known salon, No. 8 Curzon Street, which was for more than a half a
century the resort of the best company in London.]

February 25th, 1819
The debate on the 10,000ℓ. to the Duke of York on Monday produced
four very good speeches—Peel and the Solicitor-General on one part, and
Tierney and Scarlett[32] on the other. This latter spoke for the first time, and

in reply to the two former. The Opposition came to Brookes’ full of
admiration of his speech, which is said to be the best first speech that ever
was made in the House of Commons. I, who hear all parties and care for
none, have been amused with the different accounts of the debate; one man
says Peel’s speech was the best of the night and the finest that has been
made in the House for a length of time; another prefers the Solicitor-
General’s; then on the other side it is said that Tierney was excellent, Mr.
Scarlett beyond all praise. The friends of Government allow great merit to
the two latter speakers, but declare that Peel was unanswerable, besides
having been beautifully eloquent, and that Scarlett’s speech was a fallacy
from beginning to end. Again I am told Peel was not good; his was a speech
for effect, evidently prepared, showy, but not argumentative; Scarlett
triumphantly refuted all his reasoning. Thus it is that a fair judgment is
never formed upon any question; the spirit of party influences every man’s
opinions. It is not extraordinary that each individual of a party connected by
general similarity of opinion should adhere to the great body, even in cases
where he may not happen to agree with them, and excellent reasons may be
adduced for his sacrificing his own PARTY SPIRIT. view for the great object of
unanimity; but it is very improbable that on a particular question,
unconnected with any general system, where arguments are adduced from
opposite sides, and submitted to the enlightened judgment of an assembly,
the same arguments which are looked upon as satisfactory and
unanswerable by one set of men should be deemed without exception
utterly fallacious by another. If any proof were requisite of the mighty
influence of party spirit, it would be found in a still stronger light in the
State trials in the House of Lords. I have in my mind the trial of Lord
Melville; when each Peer had to deliver his judicial opinion upon the
evidence adduced in a matter so solemn, and in the discharge of a duty so
sacred, it might be imagined that all party feelings would be laid aside, and
that a mature judgment and an enlightened conscience would alone have
regulated the conduct of every individual. Yet either by an extraordinary
accident or by the influence of party spirit we beheld all the Peers on the
Ministerial side of the House declaring Lord Melville innocent, and all
those of the Opposition pronouncing him guilty.
[32] [Sir James Scarlett, afterwards Lord Abinger and Lord Chief Baron. It is remarkable that
his first speech in the House of Commons was delivered on the Whig side of the House. He
afterwards became a decided Tory.]

March 5th, 1819
George Lamb was to have been chaired on the day he was elected, but
the mob was outrageous and would not suffer it. They broke into his
committee room, and he and McDonald were forced to creep out of a two
pair of stairs window into the churchyard. His partisans, who assembled on
horseback, were attacked and pelted, and forced to retreat after receiving
many hard knocks. In the evening the mob paraded the town, and broke the
windows of Lord Castlereagh’s and Lord Sefton’s houses.
The other night Sir James Mackintosh[33] made a splendid speech on
the Criminal Laws; it was temperate and eloquent, and excited universal
admiration. The Ministerial party spoke as highly of it as the Opposition
themselves. Last night Canning moved the thanks to Lord Hastings, and
they say it was the finest speech he ever made, in the best taste, the clearest
narrative, and the most beautiful language.
[33] [Sir James Mackintosh’s motion for the appointment of a Committee on Capital
Punishments was carried against the Government on the 2nd of March by 148 to 128.]

June 12th, 1819
I have been at Oatlands for the Ascot party. On the course I did
nothing. Ever since the Derby ill fortune 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 attached 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
unfitted 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, accomplishments, or ability avail here; great

noblemen, merchants, orators, jockies, statesmen, and idlers are thrown
together in levelling confusion; the only pre-eminence is that of success, the
only superiority that of temper. But why does a man play who is blessed
with fortune, endowed with understanding, and adorned with
accomplishments which might ensure his success in any pursuit which taste
or fancy might incite him to follow? It is contrary to reason, but we see
such instances every day. The passion of play is not artificial; it must have
existed in certain minds from the beginning; 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 interest.

June 14th, 1819
The other night in the House of Commons on the Foreign Enlistment
Bill Sir James Mackintosh made a brilliant speech; all parties agree in
commending it. Canning answered him, but not successfully. The Duke of
Wellington PERSIAN AMBASSADOR AND THE REGENT. told me on Friday that there was
a good debate in the House of Lords the night before on the Catholic
question, but he thought his side had the worst of it; he acknowledged that
Lord Grey’s speech had done much to shake his opinion, and that he had
not conceived that his propositions would have been framed in so
unobjectionable a manner.[34]
[34] [On the 10th of June Earl Grey submitted to the House of Lords a Bill to relieve Roman
Catholics from taking the declaratory oaths against Transubstantiation and the Invocation of Saints.
On this occasion, for the first time, Lord Grenville supported the Catholic claims. But the Bill was
thrown out by 141 to 92.]

June 25th, 1819
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 affronted 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 Ministers 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 offence,
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.’ Accordingly he went to Carlton House, and they
are very good friends again.

August 11th, 1819
The Vice-Chancellor was going to Italy, but his journey is stopped, as
he says, because the Prince Regent has desired him to stay in England in
consequence of the approaching return of the Princess of Wales.

August 30th, 1819
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 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
tradespeople, and the Duke was prevailed on with great difficulty to
produce a small sum for the purpose. The house is nearly in ruins.

December 24th, 1819
The Duke of Kent gave the name of Alexandrina to his daughter[35] 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 compliments (en le
persiflant) on the Emperor’s being godfather, 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.
[35] [The Princess, afterwards Queen, Victoria, born 24th of May, 1819.]

The frost is intense. The town is empty. I returned from Whersted last
Wednesday se’nnight, and went to Oatlands on Thursday; there was nearly
the same party. Prince Leopold came and dined there on Saturday. He is
very dull and heavy in his manner, and seems overcome with the weight of
his dignity. This Prince will not succeed here; everybody is civil to him
from the interest he excited at the time of the Princess’s death—an interest
which has not yet subsided. There seems to be no harm in him, but
everybody contrasts his manners with those of the Duke of York, and the
comparison is not to his advantage. ILLNESS OF GEORGE IV. The Duchess likes the
society of men of wit and letters; more, I think, from the variety of having
them around her than from any pleasure she takes in their conversation.
Lord Alvanley is the man in whom she takes the greatest delight.

1820.

London, January 20th, 1820
I went last Sunday se’nnight to Woburn. The Duke of York, Duke of
Wellington, Lievens, Jerseys, Worcesters, Tavistocks, Mr. Russell, Lady
Sandwich, Alvanley, C. Smith, Huntleys, Frederick Ponsonby, Lauderdale,
and others were there. The house, place, establishment, and manner of
living are magnificent. The chasse was brilliant; in five days we killed 835
pheasants, 645 hares, 59 rabbits, 10 partridges, and 5 woodcocks. The
Duchess was very civil and the party very gay. I won at whist, and liked it
very much.

January 22nd, 1820
Just before the advance of the allied army on Paris a council of war
was held, when it was unanimously resolved to retreat. The Emperor of
Russia entered the room, and said he had reasons for advancing, and
ordered the advance; the generals remonstrated, but the Emperor was
determined. Woronzoff told Sydenham that that day a courier arrived at his
outposts with a letter for the Emperor in the handwriting of Talleyrand. This
was told me by Frederick Ponsonby.

February 4th, 1820
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, 822 and 431 head. On Sunday last arrived the news of the King’s
death.[36] 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. REIGN OF GEORGE IV.
Bloomfield sent for Tierney,[37] who took upon himself to take fifty ounces
from him. This gave him relief; he continued, however, 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 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.
[36] [King George III. died on the 20th of January, 1820.]
[37] [Sir Matthew Tierney, one of His Majesty’s physicians.]

The King has given to Lady Bloomfield the Rangership of Hampton
Court Park. He wished to give it to both of them with the survivorship, but
Lord Liverpool submitted to him that the House of Commons had
pronounced so strongly their dislike to reversionary grants that it would be
unadvisable, and it was accordingly given to Lady B. only.

February 14th, 1820
The Cabinet sat till past two o’clock this morning. The King refused
several times to order the Queen to be prayed for in the alteration which
was made in the Liturgy. The Ministers wished him to suffer it to be done,
but he peremptorily refused, and said nothing should induce him to consent,
whoever might ask him. Lord Harrowby told me this last night.
I think Fleury’s book[38] 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 NAPOLEON IN THE HUNDRED DAYS. reduced within very narrow limits, but his

military authority 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 16th of June. It is impossible now to determine what might have been
the political result in France of the success of Bonaparte’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 re-established 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 despotism without exciting universal
dissatisfaction. Men seem 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 magnificence of
his exploits and the grandeur of his system.
[38] [M. Fleury de Chabaulon was a young auditeur at the Conseil d’État 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.]

February 20th, 1820
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 subject 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 24th, 1820
The plot[39] 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 particulars:—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 conspirators
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, 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 despatched 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 THE CATO STREET CONSPIRACY. was only wounded; he who followed
was stabbed by Thistlewood 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.
[39] [The Cato Street Conspiracy.]

March 1st, 1820
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 4th, 1820
I went to Oatlands on Tuesday. The Duchess continues very ill; she is
not expected to recover. The King 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 exceedingly 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 meantime 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 intention she should come. It
was supposed that Lady Conyngham’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.

June 7th, 1820

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 wherever she
passed. She travelled in an open landau, Alderman Wood sitting by her side
and Lady Ann Hamilton and another woman opposite. Everybody was
disgusted at the vulgarity of Wood in sitting in the place of honour, while
the Duke of Hamilton’s sister was sitting backwards in 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 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 meantime 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
Majesty’s unconcern the day of her arrival in England may be such an
anniversary to him as he will have no cause to celebrate with much
rejoicing.[40]
[40] [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 enquiry 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.]

June 9th, 1820

THE QUEEN’S RETURN.Brougham’s speech on Wednesday is 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 question 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 Exmouth’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
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 16th, 1820
The speech which Canning made on the occasion of the King’s
message has been violently attacked by all parties, and is said to have given
as great dissatisfaction to the Queen as to the King. It is not easy to discover
what the Queen could have objected to in the speech, for it was highly
favourable and flattering to her. It was generally supposed last Sunday that
he would resign in the course of the week, and bets were laid that he would
not be in office next Sunday. On Wednesday he had an audience of the King
at the levee, which lasted fifty-two minutes by Yarmouth’s watch; nobody
knows what passed between them. Lord Fitzwilliam and Lord Sefton have
refused to act as negotiators for the Queen.

There was some indiscipline manifested in a battalion of the 3rd
Guards the day before yesterday; they were dissatisfied at the severity of
their duty and at some allowances 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 morning. 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 behaviour on the route. Worcester[41] 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.
[41] [The Marquis of Worcester, afterwards seventh Duke of Beaufort]

June 23rd, 1820
I never remember to have seen the public curiosity so excited as on
Wilberforce’s motion last night.[42] Nearly 520 members voted in the
House, and some went away; as many people as could gain admission
attended to hear the debate. The speaking on the Opposition side was
excellent, but as everybody differs in opinion with regard to the
comparative merit of the speakers, it is impossible for one who was not
present to form a correct judgment on the subject. The best speeches were
Brougham’s, Denman’s, Burdett’s, and Canning’s. Denman’s speech was
admirable and, all agree, most judicious and effective for his client.
Burdett’s was extremely clever, particularly the first part of SECRET COMMITTEE
ON THE QUEEN. it. In the meantime it is doubtful whether anything is gained by
the resolution carried last night. Public opinion seems very equally divided
as to the probability of the Queen agreeing to the expressed or implied wish
of the House of Commons, and even if she refuses to consent to the
omission of her name in the Liturgy it seems doubtful whether the green
bag will ever be opened, so strong is the repugnance of the House of
Commons to enter upon such an investigation. It is this feeling in the House
which emboldens the Queen to hold out with the firmness and constancy
she has hitherto displayed. The House of Lords cuts a most ridiculous

figure, having precipitately agreed to go into the Committee. They have
since been obliged to put off the investigation by repeated adjournments, in
order to see what steps the House of Commons will take. Lord Grey made
an indignant speech, last night on this very subject; they say Lord Liverpool
spoke remarkably well in reply.
[42] [Mr. Wilberforce moved an address to the Queen to stop the investigation, by entreating her
Majesty, under the assurance of the protection of her honour by the Commons, to yield the point of
the insertion of her name in the Liturgy. This proposal the Queen courteously declined.]

June 25th, 1820
The Queen’s refusal to comply with the desire of the House of
Commons keeps conjecture afloat and divides opinions as to the opening of
the bag. The Opposition call her answer a very good one; those of the other
party I have seen think it too long, and not neatly and clearly worded.
Brougham declined advising her as to her answer; he told her she must be
guided by her own feelings, and was herself the only person capable of
judging what she had best do. The discussion of the Queen’s business is
now become an intolerable nuisance in society; no other subject is ever
talked of. It is an incessant matter of argument and dispute what will be
done and what ought to be done. All people express themselves tired of the
subject, yet none talk or think of any other. It is a great evil when a single
subject of interest takes possession of society; conversation loses all its
lightness and variety, and every drawing-room is converted into an arena of
political disputation. People even go to talk about it from habit long after
the interest it excited has ceased.

June 27th, 1820
The mob was very abusive to the member who carried up the
resolution to the Queen, and called Wilberforce ‘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 exceedingly well;
Lord Holland said his first three or four sentences 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-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.

June 28th, 1820
The debate last night in the House of Lords was excellent. Lord Grey
made a powerful speech, very much against the Queen, a speech for office.
The manager announced at Drury Lane that the Queen would go to the play
to-night. Brougham knew nothing of this; she never told him. Mrs.
Brougham told me so last night, and that he was quite worn out with the
business.[43]
[43] [The report of the Secret Committee of the Lords was made on the 4th of July. It declared
that the evidence against the Queen was such as to demand a solemn enquiry. The trial, or rather
investigation, began on the 17th of August. The defence was opened on the 3rd of October, and the
Bill was abandoned on the 6th of November.]

July 6th, 1820
Since the report of the Secret Committee public opinion is entirely
changed as to the result of the proceedings against the Queen. Everybody
thinks the charges will be proved and that the King will be divorced. It is
impossible to discover what effect the report may have in the country; it is
certain hitherto that all ranks of men have been decidedly favourable to the
Queen, and disbelieve the charges against her. The military in London have
shown alarming symptoms of dissatisfaction, so much so that it seems
doubtful how far the Guards can be counted upon in case of any disturbance
arising out of this subject. Luttrell says that ‘the extinguisher is taking fire.’

July 8th, 1820
I was in the House of Lords the night before last to hear
THE QUEEN’S TRIAL
Brougham and Denman speak at the bar. Brougham’s speech was
uncommonly clever, very insolent, and parts of it very eloquent. A very
amusing episode was furnished by the Bishop of Exeter, who moved that
the counsel should withdraw, and then asked the House whether they were
not out of order. Lord Holland cut him up in the most beautiful style, and
excited universal laughter. Nobody came to the assistance of the Bishop,
and the counsel were called in again and resumed. Brougham’s speech is
reported in the ‘Morning Chronicle’ of yesterday word for word.

July 14th, 1820
I have been at Newmarket, where I had the first fortunate turn this
year. The conversation about the Queen begins to subside; everybody seems
to agree that it is a great injustice not to allow her lists of the witnesses; the
excuse that it is not usual is bad, for the proceedings are anomalous
altogether, and it is absurd to attempt to adhere to precedent; here there are
no precedents and no analogies to guide to a decision. London is drawing to
a close, but in August it will be very full, as all the Peers must be here. They
say the trial will last six months.
Luttrell’s poem[44] has succeeded. The approbation it receives is
general but qualified; in fact, it was difficult to make such a sketch of life
and manners sufficiently piquant without the infusion of a little satire, and
his fear of giving offence has induced him to be so good-natured that he is
occasionally rather insipid. ‘Il y a des tracasseries de société.’ I cannot
record them, though perhaps years hence, when I may look over what I now
write, I might be amused with stories of long-forgotten jealousies and
various interests extinguished by the lapse of time, or perhaps silenced in
the grave; still it would be melancholy to retrace the days of my youth and
to bring before my imagination the blooming faces and the gaiety and
brilliancy of those who once shone the meteors of society, but who would
then be so changed in form and mind, and with myself rapidly descending
to our last home.

[44] [Mr. Luttrell’s ‘Advice to Julia,’ published in 1820.]

Read ‘Les Liaisons dangereuses.’ Much has been said about the
dangerous tendency of certain books, and probably this would be
considered as one pregnant with mischief. I consider this a mere jargon, and
although I would never recommend this book (because it is so grossly
indecent) I should never apprehend the smallest danger to the most
inexperienced mind or the warmest passions from its immoral tendency.
The principle upon which books of this description are considered
pernicious is the notion that they represent vice in such glowing and
attractive colours as to make us lose sight of its deformity and fill our
imagination with the idea of its pleasures. No one who has any feeling or a
spark of generosity or humanity in his breast can read this book without
being moved with compassion for Madame de Tourval and with horror and
disgust towards Valmont and Madame de Merteuil. It raised in my mind a
detestation of such cold-blooded, inhuman profligacy, and I felt that I would
rather every pleasure that can flow from the intercourse of women were
debarred me than run such a course. The moral effect upon my mind was
stronger than any which ever resulted from the most didactic work, and if
anyone wants to excite remorse in the most vicious mind I would
recommend him to make use of ‘Les Liaisons dangereuses’ for the purpose.
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 12,000ℓ. 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 messenger that the King can receive
no communication from her except through the hands of his Ministers.’
Esterhazy THE QUEEN’S TRIAL. was present, and said he did this with
extraordinary dignity.

Newmarket, October 2nd, 1820

I left town in the middle of August with George Fox. We went down
with extraordinary rapidity. I never was happier than to escape from
London and to find myself in Yorkshire. It was a new world, and the change
was most refreshing. The refinement of London was not there, but there was
a good humour, gaiety, and hospitality which amused and delighted me.

London, October 8th, 1820
I came to town with Payne on Friday, 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 interrupted him,
and begged he might be indulged for a few minutes, as he had a story to tell
which he could only introduce at that moment. A drunken fellow was
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 couldn’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 opponents
(including Lord Lonsdale) were struck with admiration and astonishment.

October 15th, 1820
Since I came to town I have been to the 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 conversation, their remarks,
and learning what witnesses they are going to examine, and many other
things which are interesting and amusing. Since I have been in the world I

never remember any question which so exclusively occupied everybody’s
attention, and so completely absorbed men’s thoughts and engrossed
conversation. In the same degree is the violence 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 Lieut. 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 sufficiently
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
Portland, who is perfectly impartial, and who has always been violently
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 expediency it ought not to pass. The Ministers
were elated in an extraordinary manner by this evidence of Hownam’s. The
Duke of Wellington told Madame de Lieven that he was very tired; ‘mais
les grands succès 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 consider 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 THE QUEEN’S TRIAL. 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 argument which I

had with her the day before yesterday, she said that if the House of Lords
was to suffer itself to be influenced 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 expressed 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,[45] which has given such an important advantage to their
adversaries. Mr. Powell’s explanation was extremely unsatisfactory, and in
his examination 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. Rastelli 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 Lauderdale,[46] and neither the Attorney-General nor
the Solicitor-General can act with greater zeal than he does in support of the
Bill. Lord Liverpool is a model of fairness, impartiality, and candour. The
Chancellor is equally impartial, and as he decides personally all disputes on
legal points which are referred to the House, his fairness has been
conspicuous in having generally decided in favour of the Queen’s counsel.
Yesterday morning some discussion arose about a question which
Brougham put to Powell. He asked him who was his principal, 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 WELLINGTON’S ACCOUNT OF WATERLOO. 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 Lost, ii. 666.
[45] [Rastelli was a witness for the Bill—not a very important one. After his examination 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 spiriting away the witness.]
[46] [In the course of the trial, in order to show that the Queen had 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.]

Whersted, December 10th, 1820
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 charades, which were
very well done. Yesterday we went to shoot at Sir Philip Brookes’. 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 16th, and had a corps of 20,000 at Hal under Prince Frederick.
He said that it was remarkable that nobody who had ever spoken of these

operations had ever made mention of that corps,[47] 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 operations Bonaparte’s march upon Belgium
was the finest thing that ever was done—so rapid and so well combined.
His object was to beat the armies in detail, and this object succeeded 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 realise the
advantages he had promised himself. The Duke says that they certainly
were not prepared for this attack,[48] as the French had previously 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 extraordinary way, as the battle[49] 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 16th, 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 Prussian posts in the evening. I asked him if
he thought Bonaparte had committed any fault. He said he thought he had
committed a fault in attacking him in the position of Waterloo; that his
object ought to have been to remove him as far as possible from the
Prussian army, and that he ought consequently 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 Waterloo was uncommonly strong, but that
the strength of it consisted alone in the two farms of Hougoumont and La
Haye Sainte, both of which were admirably situated and adapted for
defence. 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 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 WELLINGTON AND
BLUCHER IN PARIS. 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 aperture through which ammunition could be conveyed to his
garrison.
[47] [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.]
[48] [This passage is obscure, as the pronoun they can hardly refer to the allied armies: but it
stands so in the MS.]
[49] [The battle of Ligny, 16th of June, 1815.]

When we arrived at Sir Philip Brookes’ 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 Blücher was determined to destroy the
Bridge of Jena. The Duke spoke to Müffling, the Governor of Paris, and
desired him to persuade Blücher to abandon this design. However, Blücher
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 Washington, and he did not see why he was not
to destroy this bridge. Müffling, 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 Blücher 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 frustrated, and the bridge received no injury. At length
Müffling 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 Vendôme 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 Blücher announced his intention of levying a
contribution of 100 millions on the city of Paris. To this the Duke objected,
and said that the raising such enormous contributions could only be done by
common consent, and must be a matter of general arrangement. Blücher

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.

CHAPTER II.
Popularity of George IV. — The Duke of York’s Racing
Establishment — Clerk of the Council — Lord Liverpool and
Mr. Sumner — Lady Conyngham — Death of Lady Worcester
— Her Character — Ball at Devonshire House — The Duke of
York’s Aversion to the Duke of Wellington — The Pavilion at
Brighton — Lord Francis Conyngham — The King and the
Duke of Wellington — Death of the Marquis of Londonderry —
His Policy — Sir B. Bloomfield sent to Stockholm — Mr.
Canning’s Foreign Secretary — Queen Caroline and Brougham
— Canning and George IV. — Lord William Bentinck aspires to
go to India — His Disappointment — The Duke of York’s Duel
with Colonel Lennox — George III.’s Will — George IV.
appropriates the late King’s Personal Property — The Duke of
Wellington on the Congress of Verona and on the Politics of
Europe — Intervention in Spain — Ferdinand VII. — M. de
Villèle — The Duke’s opinion of Napoleon — Sir William
Knighton — The Duke of York’s Anecdotes of George IV. —
Death of the Marquis of Titchfield — His character.

1821.

London, February 7th, 1821
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 11th, 1821
I came to town from Euston the end of last month. The debates were
expected to be very stormy and the minorities very large, not that anybody
expected Ministers to go out. It has all ended as such anticipations usually
do, in everything going off very quietly and the Government obtaining large
majorities. Their Parliamentary successes and the King’s reception have
greatly elated them, and they think (and with reason probably) that they are
likely to enjoy their places for the term of their natural lives, not that they
care about the King’s popularity except in as much as it may add strength to
their Administration. They do not conceal their contempt or dislike of him,
and it is one of the phenomena of the present times that the King should
have Ministers whom he abuses and hates, and who entertain corresponding
sentiments of aversion to him; yet they defend all his errors and follies, and
he affords them constant countenance and protection. However, the King

was delighted by his reception at the theatres, and told Lady Bessborough,
as he came downstairs, he never was more gratified.

February 23rd, 1821
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]

[1] [Mr. Greville continued to manage the racing establishment of the Duke of York from this
time till the death of his Royal Highness.]

March 5th, 1821
I have experienced a great proof of the vanity of human wishes. In the
course of three weeks I have attained the three things which I have most
desired in the world for years past, and upon the whole I do not feel that my
happiness is at all increased; perhaps if it were not for one cause it might
be, but until that ceases to exist it is in vain that I acquire every other
advantage or possess the means of amusement.[2]
[2] [One of these things was Mr. Greville’s appointment as Clerk of the Council; the second was
his connection with the Duke of York in his racing establishment; I am ignorant of the third.]

March 22nd, 1821
I was sworn in the day before yesterday, THE CLERKSHIP OF THE COUNCIL. and
kissed hands at a Council at Carlton House yesterday morning as Clerk of
the Council.

March 25th, 1821
Lord Fife has been dismissed from his place of Lord of the
Bedchamber for voting against the Malt Tax, and Lord Lovaine has been
appointed instead.

April 19th, 1821
The night before last Hobhouse made his furious attack upon Canning.
Last night everybody expected that Canning would speak, and was
extremely anxious to hear what notice he would take of Hobhouse. The
army estimates came on first in the evening, and almost all the members

went away, intending to return to the Reform debate, but when Reform
came on there were only 100 members in the House. ‘Le combat finit faute
de combattans,’ and when everybody came crowding down at nine o’clock
the House had been up half an hour, having divided 53 to 41.[3]
[3] [On the 17th of April Mr. Lambton (afterwards Earl of Durham) moved for a Committee of
the whole House to consider the state of the representation of the people in Parliament. It was owing
to the misapprehension described in the text that the division was so small.]

May 2nd, 1821
When the Canonry of Windsor became vacant Lady Conyngham asked
the King to give it to Mr. Sumner,[4] who had been Mount Charles’s tutor.
The King agreed: the man was sent for, and kissed hands at Brighton. A
letter was written to Lord Liverpool to announce the appointment. In the
meantime Lord Liverpool had sent a list of persons, one of whom he should
recommend to succeed to the vacancy, and the letters crossed. As soon as
Lord Liverpool received the letter from Brighton he got into his carriage
and went down to the King, to state that unless he was allowed to have the
distribution of this patronage without any interference, he could not carry
on the Government, and would resign his office if Sumner was appointed.
The man was only a curate, and had never held a living at all. The King
‘chanta palinodie,’ and a sort of compromise was made, by which Lady
Conyngham’s friend was withdrawn, and the King begged it might be given
to Dr. Clarke, to which appointment Lord Liverpool consented, although he
did not approve of him; he did not, however, wish to appear too difficult.
[4] [Afterwards Bishop of Winchester. This was the beginning of the fortune of that amiable
prelate, of whom it must be said that if he owed his early advancement to a questionable influence,
no man has filled the episcopal office with more unaffected piety, dignity, and goodness. The
difference between George IV. and Lord Liverpool on this occasion was a very serious one. The
Duke of Wellington referred to it in a confidential letter to Lord Liverpool, written on the 26th of
October, 1821, in the following terms:—‘As I told you at Windsor, the King has never forgiven your
opposition to his wishes in the case of Mr. Sumner. This feeling has influenced every action of his
life in relation to his Government from that moment; and I believe to more than one of us he avowed
that his objection to Mr. Canning was that his accession to the Government was peculiarly desirable
to you. Nothing can be more unjust or more unfair than this feeling; and as there is not one of your
colleagues who did not highly approve of what you did respecting Mr. Sumner, so there is not one of
them who would not suffer with you all the consequences of that act.’ (‘Correspondence of the Duke
of Wellington,’ Second Series, vol. i. p. 195; published in 1867.)]

Lady Conyngham lives in one of the houses in Marlborough Row. All
the members of her family are continually there, and are supplied with
horses, carriages, &c., from the King’s stables. She rides out with her
daughter, but never with the King, who always rides with one of his
gentlemen. 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 Elizabeth 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 Princesses, but had never seen any nearly so fine as Lady
Conyngham’s. The other night Lady Bath was coming to the Pavilion. After
dinner Lady Conyngham called to Sir William 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 tenderness, ‘Thank you, thank
you, THE DEATH OF LADY WORCESTER. my dear; you always do what is right; you
cannot please me so much as by doing everything you please, everything to
show that you are mistress here.’

May 12th, 1821
I have suffered the severest pain I ever had in my life by the death of
Lady Worcester.[5] I loved her like a sister, and I have lost one of the few
persons in the world who cared for me, and whose affection and friendship
serve to make life valuable to me. She has been cut off in the prime of her
life and in the bloom of her beauty, and so suddenly too. Seven days ago
she was at a ball at Court, and she is now no more. She died like a heroine,
full of cheerfulness and courage to the last. She has been snatched from life
at a time when she was becoming every day more fit to live, for her mind,
her temper, and her understanding were gradually and rapidly improving;
she had faults, but her mind was not vicious, and her defects may be
ascribed to her education and to the actual state of the society in which she
lived. Her virtues were inherent in her character; every day developed them

more and more, and they were such as to make the happiness of all who
lived with her and to captivate the affection of all who really knew her. I
have never lost anyone I loved before, and though I know the grief I now
feel will soon subside (for so the laws of nature have ordained), long, long
will it be before I forget her, or before my mind loses the lively impression
of her virtues and of our mutual friendship.
[5] [Georgiana Frederica, Marchioness of Worcester, daughter of the Hon. Charles Fitzroy,
married to Henry, afterwards seventh Duke of Beaufort, in 1814, died 11th of May, 1821. This
lamented lady left two daughters, afterwards Lady Augusta Neumann and Lady Georgiana
Codrington.]

This is one of those melancholy events in life to which the mind
cannot for a long time reconcile or accustom itself. I saw her so short a time
ago ‘glittering like the morning star, full of life and splendour and joy;’ the
accents of her voice still so vibrate in my ear that I cannot believe I shall
never see her again. What a subject for contemplation and for moralising!
What reflections crowd into the mind!
Dr. Hume told me once he had witnessed many death-beds, but he had
never seen anything like the fortitude and resignation displayed by her. She
died in his arms, and without pain. As life ebbed away her countenance
changed, and when at length she ceased to breathe, a beautiful and tranquil
smile settled upon her face.
Call round her tomb each, object of desire,
Each, purer frame informed by purer fire;
Let her be all that cheers or softens life,
The tender sister, daughter, friend, and wife:
Bid her be all that makes mankind adore,
Then view this marble, and be vain no more.

June 24th, 1821
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
Charlotte, and when she died he desired to have it back, Leopold being

informed it was a crown jewel. This crown jewel sparkled in the headdress
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, 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 Oatlands, 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
Commander-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 despatch.[6]
[6] [The unjust and unfavourable opinion expressed of the Duke of Wellington by the Duke of
York dated from the appointment of Sir Arthur Wellesley to a high command, 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 disappointment to the intrigues of those who were preferred before him. This matter is
explained with further particulars sub 24th of December, 1822.]

December 18th, 1821
I have not written anything for months. ‘Quante cose mi
THE PAVILION.
sono accadute!’ My progress was as follows, not very interesting:—To
Newmarket, Whersted, Riddlesworth, Sprotborough, Euston, Elveden,
Welbeck, Caversham, Nun Appleton, Welbeck, Burghley, and London.
Nothing worth mentioning occurred at any of these places. Sprotborough
was agreeable enough. The Grevilles, Montagu, 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
splendour of the place amused me for a little and then bored me. The dinner
was cold and the evening dull beyond all dulness. They say the King is
anxious that form and ceremony should be banished, and if so it 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 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 Wellesley 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 19th, 1821
I dined with Lord Gwydir yesterday, and sat next to Prince Lieven. He
told me that Bloomfield is no longer in favour, that he has been supplanted
by Lord Francis Conyngham,[7] 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; ‘même il se retire,’ he said, and it is
understood that he has made up his mind to resign his situation and leave
the Court. The King is still perfectly civil and good-humoured to him, but
has withdrawn his confidence from him, and Bloomfield is no longer his
first servant.
[7] [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.]

I asked Lieven whether Francis Conyngham, in performing the other
duties which had been hitherto allotted to Bloomfield, also exercised the
functions of Private Secretary, because 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 commencement 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 honours are
done by the father on one side and the son on the other.

1822.

July 16th, 1822
Since I wrote last I have been continually in town. I have won on the
Derby, my sister is married,[8] and DEATH OF LORD LONDONDERRY. I have done
nothing worth recording. How habit and practice change our feelings, our
opinions; and what an influence they have upon our thoughts and actions!
Objects which I used to contemplate at an immeasurable distance, and to
attain which I thought would be the summit of felicity, I have found worth
very little in comparison to the value my imagination used to set upon
them.... London is nearly over, has been tolerably agreeable; but I have been
very often bored to death by the necessity of paying some attention to keep
up an interest.
[8] [Miss Greville married Lord Francis Leveson Gower, afterwards Earl of Ellesmere, in 1822.]

July 30th, 1822
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, ‘Except your Majesty’s.’ The King then said the English cavalry were
the best, which the Duke denied; then that an inferior number of French
regiments would always beat a superior 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 13th, 1822
I went to Cirencester on Friday and came back yesterday. At Hounslow
I heard of the death of Lord Londonderry.[9] 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
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 Münster 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. There is not a
Minister in town but Lord Liverpool, Vansittart, and the Chancellor. Lord
Bathurst is at Cirencester, the Duke of Wellington in Holland, Lord
Sidmouth in Yorkshire, Peel and Lord Melville in Scotland with the King.
No event ever gave rise to more speculation with the few people there are
left to speculate, and the general opinion seems to be that Canning will not
go to India,[10] but will be appointed in his room. It certainly opens a door
to his ambition as well as to that of Peel, who, unless Canning comes into
office, must of necessity lead the House of Commons. Another speculation
is that Lord Liverpool will take this opportunity of resigning, and that the
King will form a Whig Ministry. I do not believe Lord Liverpool wishes to
resign, and my opinion is that Canning will come into office.
[9] [Lord Castlereagh, far better known by that name, succeeded as second Marquis of
Londonderry on the 11th of April, 1821—only sixteen months before his death.]

[10] [Mr. Canning had just accepted the office of Governor-General of India, and was about to
go out to that country.]

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.
CHARACTER OF LORD LONDONDERRY. 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 devotion to him, and caused him to be respected by his most
violent 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 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
managers of the House of Commons who ever sat in it, and he was
eminently possessed of the good taste, good humour, and agreeable
manners which are more requisite to make a good leader than eloquence,
however brilliant. With these qualities, it may be 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
associated 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 nations 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 19th, 1822
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 3,000ℓ. or
5,000ℓ.; I forget which. There is also a bath in his apartment, with pipes to
conduct water from the sea; these pipes cost 600ℓ. The King has not taken a
sea bath for sixteen years.
The Marquis of Londonderry is to be buried to-morrow in Westminster
Abbey. It is thought injudicious to have anything like an ostentatious
funeral, considering the circumstances 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 honours. 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 apprehensions, particularly
with a notion that he was in great personal danger. On the day (the 3rd of
August) he gave a great dinner at Cray to his political friends, some of them
finding the wine very good, wished to compliment him upon it, and
Arbuthnot 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 Huskisson
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 CANNING RETURNS TO OFFICE.
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 behaviour wrote the letter to Bankhead which has been since
published.

August 20th, 1822
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. Bloomfield has got the mission to Stockholm. When
Bloomfield was dismissed a disposition was shown to treat him in a very
unceremonious manner; but he would not stand this, and displayed 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 honour and emolument he could desire.

September 22nd, 1822
I saw Lady Bathurst on the 13th. Canning had not then sent his answer,
and greatly surprised were the Ministers at the delay. Lord Liverpool’s
proposal to him was simple and unclogged with conditions—the Foreign
Office and the lead in the House of Commons. The King’s repugnance to
his coming into office was extreme, and it required all the efforts of his
Ministers to surmount it. The Duke of Wellington and Peel have all the
credit of having persuaded the King to consent, but Lord Bathurst’s
arguments influenced him as much as those of any person, and he told Lady
Conyngham that he was more satisfied by what Lord Bathurst had said to
him on the subject than by any of the Ministers. I know that amongst the
Canning party Lord Bathurst is supposed to have joined with the Chancellor
in opposing his appointment. The danger in which the Duke of Wellington
was sensibly affected the King, because at this moment the Duke is in high
favour 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 inclination 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 received. The King told Madame de Lieven that having
consented 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 rendered 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 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 receiving the despatches 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 QUEEN
CAROLINE’S RETURN. himself.’ She knew what had passed with the King, and
was the only person to whom he had told it.

September 23rd, 1822
George Bentinck, who thinks there never existed such a man as
Canning, and who probably has heard from him some circumstances
connected with his resignation at the time of the Queen’s trial, told ——

that it was in consequence of a dispute between the King and his Ministers
concerning the payment of the expenses of the Milan Commission. The
Ministers wished the King to pay the expenses himself, and he wished them
to be defrayed by Government. Lord Londonderry promised the King
(without the concurrence of the other Ministers) that the expenses should be
paid by Government, but with money ostensibly appropriated to other
purposes. This Canning could not endure, and resigned. Such is his story,
which probably is partly true and partly false.

November 5th, 1822
I have been to Newmarket, Euston, Riddlesworth, Rendlesham,
Whersted, besides going to town several times and to Brighton. Since I left
London for the Doncaster races I have travelled near 1,200 miles. At
Riddlesworth the Duke of York told me a great deal about the Queen and
Brougham, but he was so unintelligible that part I could not make out and
part I do not remember. What I can recollect amounts to this, that the
Emperor of Austria was the first person who informed the King of the
Queen’s conduct in Italy, that after the enquiry was set on foot a negotiation
was entered into with the Queen, the basis of which was that she should
abdicate the title of Queen, and that to this she had consented. He said that
Brougham had acted a double part, for that he had acquiesced in the
propriety of her acceding to those terms, and had promised that he would go
over to her and confirm her in her resolution to agree to them; that he had
not only not gone, but that whilst he was making these promises to
Government he had written to the Queen desiring her to come over. The
Duke told me that a man (whose name he did not mention) came to him and
said, ‘So the Queen comes over?’ He said, ‘No, she does not.’ The man said,
‘I know she does, for Brougham has written to her to come; I saw the
letter.’ If Lord Liverpool and Lord Londonderry had thought proper to
publish what had been done on the part of Brougham, he would have been
covered with infamy; but they would not do it, and he thinks they were
wrong. The rest I cannot remember.[11]
[11] [This is an erroneous and imperfect account of this important transaction, the particulars of
which are related by Lord Brougham in his ‘Memoirs,’ cap. xvi. vol. ii. p. 352, and still more fully by
Mr. Yonge in his ‘Life of Lord Liverpool,’ vol. iii. p. 52. Mr. Brougham had sent his brother James to

the Queen at Geneva to dissuade her from setting out for England, but, as he himself observes, ‘I was
quite convinced that if she once set out she never would stop short.’ He met her himself at St. Omer,
being the bearer of a memorandum dated the 15th of April, 1820, which contained the terms
proposed by the King’s Government. He went to St. Omer in company with Lord Hutchinson, but
Mr. Brougham, and not Lord Hutchinson, was the bearer of these propositions. Lord Hutchinson had
no copy of the document. The extraordinary part of Mr. Brougham’s conduct was that he never at all
submitted or made known to the Queen the memorandum of the 15th of April; and she knew nothing
of it till she had reached London, when all negotiation was broken off. This fact Lord Brougham does
not explain in his ‘Memoirs;’ but Lord Hutchinson declared in his report to Lord Liverpool that in
truth Brougham ‘did not appear to possess the smallest degree of power, weight, or authority over the
mind of the Queen’ when at St. Omer.]

Welbeck, November 16th, 1822
I have had a great deal of conversation with Titchfield,[12] particularly
about Canning, and he told me this curious fact about his coming into
office:—When the King had consented to receive him he wrote a letter
nearly in these words to Lord Liverpool: ‘The King thinks that the brightest
jewel in the crown is to extend his forgiveness [I am not sure that this was
the word[13]] to a subject who has offended him, and he therefore informs
Lord L. that he consents to Mr. Canning forming a part of the Cabinet.’ This
letter was communicated by Lord Liverpool to Canning, and upon reading
it he was indignant, as were his wife and his daughter. The CANNING AND GEORGE
IV. consequence was that he wrote a most violent and indignant reply,
addressed to the same person to whom the other letter had been addressed,
and which was intended in like manner to be shown to the King, as the
King’s letter was to him. Upon hearing what had passed, however, down
came Lord Granville and Mr. Ellis in a great hurry, and used every
argument to dissuade him from sending the letter, urging that he had
entirely misunderstood the purport of the letter which had offended him;
that it was intended as an invitation to reconciliation, and contained nothing
which could have been meant as offensive; that the country would be so
dissatisfied (which ardently desired and expected that he should come into
office) if he rejected this overture that he would not be justified in refusing
his services to the public, who so anxiously wished for them. These
arguments, vehemently urged and put in every possible shape, prevailed,
and the angry reply was put in the fire, and another written full of gratitude,
duty, and acquiescence.

[12] [The Marquis of Titchfield, eldest son of the fourth Duke of Portland, Mr. Greville’s first
cousin, died in the twenty-eighth year of his age.]
[13] [The exact words in the King’s letter to Lord Liverpool are ‘extend his grace and favour to
a subject who may have incurred his displeasure.’ This letter, Lord Liverpool’s letter transmitting it to
Mr. Canning, and Mr. Canning’s answer to Lord Liverpool are now all published in Mr. Yonge’s ‘Life
and Administration of Lord Liverpool,’ vol. iii. p. 200.]

London, November 24th, 1822
The morning I left Welbeck I had a long conversation with Titchfield
upon various matters connected with politics and his family, particularly
relating to Lord William’s correspondence with Lord Liverpool about the
Government of India. He showed me this correspondence, in which, as I
anticipated, Lord William had the worst of it. Lord Liverpool’s answer was
unanswerable. He showed me also a very long letter which he had received
from Lord William, together with the copies of the correspondence, which
was written the evening before he went abroad. In this letter (which I only
read once, and which was so long that I cannot recollect it) he gave a
detailed account of his sentiments upon the Indian matter, with the reasons
for his having acted as he did, also his feelings with regard to the manner in
which Canning had behaved upon the occasion and a conversation which he
had with Mrs. Canning.[14] This latter I think exceedingly curious, because
it serves to show what the object and the pretensions of Canning are in
taking office, and exhibit that ambition the whole extent of which he dares
not show. It seems that the Directors were anxious that Lord William should
be appointed Governor-General, and this he knew through friends of his in
the Court. Government, however, having signified their dissent to his
nomination, Lord Amherst was nominated by the Court and accepted. Lord
William’s displeasure with Canning arises from an idea that Canning was
backward in supporting his interests in this matter, and that he kept aloof
from Lord William, and acquiesced in his rejection without ever
communicating with him on the subject. Had Canning stated to him the
difficulties under which he laboured, from his anxiety to serve him on the
one hand and his obligation of coinciding with his colleagues on the other,
Lord William would not have hesitated to desire him to abandon his
interests rather than involve himself in any embarrassment on his account.
He wrote to Lord Liverpool to complain that the Court of Directors being

inclined to nominate him, Lord L. had interposed his influence to prevent
that nomination; that he did not ask Lord L. to consent to his appointment,
but he did ask him not to interpose his influence to prevent his nomination,
because that nomination was essential to his character, as proving that the
Court of Directors were satisfied of the injustice with which he had been
treated in the affair of the Vellore mutiny. Lord Liverpool’s answer was
short and civil, assuring him that he had neither directly nor indirectly
exerted any influence at all, maintaining his right to give his opinion to the
Directors in case it had been asked, and stating that Lord Amherst had been
proposed by the Court and accepted by Government.[15] LORD WILLIAM
BENTINCK. Whilst this matter was still pending, and before Lord Amherst’s
appointment had been made known, Lord William went to Gloucester
Lodge. He saw Mrs. Canning, and being anxious to acquire information
concerning the Indian appointment, he told her that she had an opportunity
of obliging him by telling him anything she knew concerning it. She
answered very quickly and in a very bad humour, ‘Oh, it is all settled; Lord
Amherst is appointed.’ She then put into his hand a letter which Canning
had received that morning from the Duke of Portland, declining his offer of
the Private Secretaryship for John and George, alleging as a reason the
hostile politics of Lord William and Titchfield. Mrs. Canning said that she
had no idea that they would not have supported Canning, that she was
aware they differed on some matters of minor importance, but that she had
imagined their general opinions to be similar; that she had conceived Lord
William’s opposition to have been directed against Lord Londonderry, and
that it would have ceased with his death; that ‘the present must be
considered as a new Administration, and that Canning must be virtually
Minister of the country.’ Lord William replied that he could not view it in
that light, that he thought it likely the introduction of Canning into the
Cabinet might effect a beneficial influence on the measures of Government,
and more particularly that a system of foreign policy might be adopted
more congenial to his sentiments upon that subject; that it would give him
the greatest pleasure to see such a change of measures as would enable him
to give his support to a Government of which Canning was so conspicuous
a member, but that he could not think that to be a new Administration which
was composed (with the sole exception of Canning) of precisely the same
persons of which it consisted before he joined them.

[14] [Mrs. Canning was the younger sister of Henrietta, wife of the fourth Duke of Portland,
both of them being the daughters and coheiresses of Major-General John Scott of Balcomie. Lord
William Bentinck, the Duke’s brother, was therefore a near connection, and Lord George Bentinck
and Lord John Bentinck, the Duke’s sons, were by their mother’s side Mrs. Canning’s nephews. Lady
Charlotte Greville, Mr. Charles Greville’s mother, was of course connected with Mrs. Canning in the
same degree as her brother Lord William Bentinck.]
[15] [Lord Liverpool’s letter to the King on this appointment has been published by Mr. Yonge
in his Life of that statesman. He stated strongly to George IV. his opinion that although Lord William
Bentinck was supported by a powerful party in the Court of Directors, he thought it would be
‘humiliating to the Government and productive of the very worst effects to appoint to such a station a
man who had taken so strong a part in Parliamentary Opposition.’ George IV. replied that he thought
it ‘highly unadvisable that Lord William Bentinck should be the successor of the Marquis of
Hastings.’ (Yonge’s ‘Life of Lord Liverpool,’ vol. iii. p. 204.) Lord William Bentinck had previously
been Governor of Madras at the time of the mutiny at Vellore.]

George,[16] after having refused the Private Secretaryship, was talked
over by Canning and accepted it. He tried to gain over John, but he refused
to share it.
[16] [Lord George Bentinck, third son of the fourth Duke of Portland; born 1802, died 1848;
afterwards distinguished as the leader of the Protectionist party.]

Canning wished that Manners Sutton should be appointed Governor-
General, in order that Wynn might be made Speaker, and room made for
Huskisson in the Cabinet; but Wynn would not have given up his situation,
and it is very much suspected that if he had, the strength of Government
would have been insufficient to procure his election as Speaker, so
unpopular is he in the House.

December 24th, 1822
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
prominent 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 profession; 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 followed. The Duke never found out whether
the masks were the people he suspected.
The last time I was with him he told me a variety of particulars about
the Duke of Wellington’s conduct at the siege of Seringapatam, of Lord
Harris’s reluctance to entrust the command of a storming party to him, of
his not arriving at the place of rendezvous the first night, of Lord Harris’s
DUKE OF YORK’S DISLIKE TO WELLINGTON. anger and the difficulty with which he was
brought to consent to his being employed the second night, when he
distinguished himself so signally. Amongst various other matters, of which
it was impossible to bring away a perfect recollection, from his confused
manner of narrating, and particularly his inaccuracy as to dates, he told me
(with many recommendations to secrecy) that which immediately explained
to me the dislike which he certainly bears to the Duke and (which I did not
know before) to Lord Londonderry. He said that after the retreat of our
army under Sir J. Moore from Spain (he was not quite certain himself as to
the exact period, though a reference to the history of that period will
probably elucidate the matter) Lord L. sent for him, and communicated to
him that it was the intention of Government to send out an expedition to
Portugal, and to confer the command of it upon him. He replied that if
called upon he should consider it his duty to serve, but he should never
solicit any command. Nothing more passed at that time, but the newspapers
by some means immediately got hold of this project and violently attacked
the Government for thinking of sending him out. He does not appear to
have known what intermediate deliberation led to a change in the
determination of the Ministers in regard to himself. He says that Lord
Chatham, who was much attached to him, and was then a Cabinet Minister,
came to him one day, and told him he was betrayed, and that he was
sacrificed to make way for Sir A. Wellesley; that soon after this Lord L. sent
for him, and said that he was extremely sorry that public opinion was so
strongly against his appointment to the command of the army that it was
impossible for Government to confer it upon him. Soon after this the
expedition was formed, and Sir A. Wellesley was appointed to the
command. This was the Duke’s own version of the transaction.

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 empowered 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 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 existing (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 alterations 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 signature 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
Chancellor, 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 GEORGE THE THIRD’S WILL. 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 120,000ℓ. So touchy is he about
pecuniary matters that his Ministers have never dared to 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
property. The Duke thinks that he has no right thus to appropriate 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 quantity, 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 conceived to belong to the Crown,
and left them back to the present King; the rest she left to her daughters.
The King has also 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 the 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 oppose so scandalous a transaction. It was therefore presented
to the British Museum.

January 25th, 1823
I came from Gorhambury with the Duke of Wellington last
Wednesday, and he was very communicative. He gave me a detailed history
of the late Congress, and told me many other things which I should be glad
to recollect.
After the two treaties of Paris and Vienna the Allied Powers agreed to
meet in Congress from time to time to arrange together any matters of
general interest which might arise, and to settle and discuss any differences
which might occur between any two Powers, a rule being laid down that the
affairs of no Power should be discussed without that Power being invited to

the deliberation. The affairs of Naples were the first that attracted their
attention. Austria complained that the ramifications of the secret political
societies which had sprung up at Naples tended to disturb and revolutionise
the Italian possessions, and demanded the consent of the Allied Powers that
she should abate the nuisance. The cause was deemed sufficient to justify
her interference, and the events followed which are known. The Congress at
Verona was assembled for the purpose of taking into consideration the
affairs of Italy, and for discussing the propriety of relieving Naples from the
burden of that military force which had been maintained there for the
purpose of extinguishing the revolutionary spirit. At this Congress France
came forward and complained that the revolution which had taken place in
Spain menaced her internal tranquillity, and demanded the advice of
Congress as to the measures she should adopt. In this it will be observed
that the rule of every Power being called upon to attend a deliberation in
which its affairs were to be discussed was dispensed with. Austria, Russia,
and Prussia immediately replied that if she considered the Spanish
revolution to be dangerous to her repose, she would be justified in stifling
that revolution by force of arms, and offered to co-operate with her in the
attempt. England refused to give any answer to the demands of France, and
demanded in return what was her case against Spain. To this no answer was
given. The part then taken by the Duke was to deprecate hostilities, both
publicly as Plenipotentiary of England and privately in the various
conversations which he had with the Emperor of Russia, who seems to have
been the strongest THE CONGRESS OF VERONA. advocate for making war with
Spain. The imprudence of the Spaniards has afforded some colour to the
right assumed by their enemies of interfering with their affairs, for they
have upon several occasions attempted to foment the troubles which either
existed or threatened to appear both in Naples and Piedmont; and the
Emperor of Russia told the Duke that he had detected the Spanish Minister
at St. Petersburg in an attempt to corrupt his soldiers at the time of the
mutiny of the Guards, and that he had consequently sent him out of the
country. The Duke replied that if the Emperor of Russia had reasonable
grounds of complaint against Spain, he would be fully justified in declaring
war against her, and that he would advise him to do so if he could march
150,000 men into Spain; but in suffering three years to elapse without
making any complaint he had virtually renounced his right to complain, and
that it was unfair to rake up a forgotten grievance against Spain at a time

when she was menaced by another Power upon other grounds. The Duke
said that the Emperor of Russia once talked to him of the practicability of
marching an army into Spain, and seemed to think he might do so. The
Duke said that the French Government would never allow it, when he said
he could send them by sea. The Duke told him it would take 2,000 ships.
One of the arguments of the Emperor of Russia was this: that constituted as
their Governments were (military Governments) it was impossible for them
to tolerate consistently with their own security any revolution which
originated in military insubordination.
After the Congress the Duke returned to Paris, and found that not only
Monsieur de Villèle was averse to war, but that the King, Monsieur, and the
Duke and Duchess of Angoulême were equally disinclined to commence
hostilities. His endeavours have been incessantly directed to confirm their
pacific dispositions, and to induce the Spanish Government to display
moderation in their language and conduct. I asked him if such were the
sentiments of the ruling powers in France upon what the question now
turned, and why all idea of war was not abandoned, since both parties were
pacifically inclined. He said[17] that France had been led into a dilemma by
a series of erroneous measures, that hers was a false position, that having
made the demands she had done to the Allied Powers, having held such
lofty language, and having made such a show of military preparation, her
difficulty was how to retract and retrace her steps with honour and credit to
herself; that she was a nation whose character depended in great measure
upon her military renown, and that it would reflect disgrace upon her to
have made such mighty preparations and assumed so peremptory a tone
without performing any action commensurate with the expectations she had
raised. He said that appearances certainly became more warlike, but that he
still hoped peace would be maintained; that if war ensued it would be
entered into contrary to the interests and inclinations of all the parties
concerned, and that it would have been brought about by a succession of
circumstances over which they had no control; that it was impossible for
two armies to remain for a length of time so near each other without mutual
incursions being made, insults and injuries exchanged, which must
inevitably end in a state of warfare and hostility; that the recall of the
French Minister from Madrid would contribute to this result, for both in the
DUKE OF WELLINGTON ON FRENCH INTERVENTION. Cortes and the Andalusian Junta

expressions would be uttered offensive to the French Government, and
misrepresentations would be made which would have the effect of
exasperating the parties and of widening the breach; and that there being no
agent of France at Madrid to furnish explanations and destroy the effect of
the misrepresentations, there would be a constant correspondence between
Madrid and Paris, in which vent would be given to all the angry feelings
that ever existed.[18] The Duke advised that no answer should be given to
the notes of the three Powers, nor to that of the French Minister. Had the
Spanish Government declined to take notice of the notes, they would have
imposed upon them the difficulty of taking the next steps. However, he
admitted that the answer to the French note was very moderate. There is no
statesman in Spain. There are some eloquent men in the Cortes, particularly
Torreno and Arguelles. Torreno is the ablest man, but he has injured his
character by peculation. The state of Spain is such that the most violent and
turbulent possess the greatest share of influence. Portugal is in a state of
greater intellectual improvement, and amongst the Portuguese there are
some men of ability—Palmella, and another whose name I have forgotten.
But Spain is not only deficient in men of education and talent to direct her
councils, but she has no army, and not one officer of capacity. Not one was
formed by the late war, for such were their vanity and ignorance that they
would learn nothing from the English.
[17] All this reasoning appears to me exceedingly false, and I do not understand a Government
being compelled to adopt measures adverse to her inclinations and injurious to her interests by
circumstances which she could not control. A wise and vigorous statesman would break through such
a web as that in which the French politics are entangled, and I cannot comprehend how the honour of
a nation is to be supported by an obstinate adherence to measures which she had been led
incautiously to adopt, and which were afterwards found to militate with her true interests. If the
councils of France were directed by a Minister of a vigorous and independent character—if such a
Minister were to come forward and state frankly to Spain, and announce to all Europe, that he would
not invade the liberty and the rights of Spain, and instantly put a stop to all hostile preparations,
finding arguments for an act of magnanimity, moderation, and justice, which are never wanting when
some deed of lawless ambition and violent aggression is to be perpetrated, would not such a man
acquire a more solid reputation than he who sacrifices to some punctilio the interests of his own
country and the happiness and repose of millions, how great soever might be the success with which
his efforts should be crowned?—[C.C.G.]
[18] These notes were addressed by the respective Courts to their own Ministers at Madrid. The
Spanish Minister for Foreign Affairs need not have taken any notice of them whatever according to
the forms of diplomatic communication.—[C.C.G.]

Upon one occasion only the Spaniards gained a victory, the day on
which St. Sebastian was stormed. Soult attacked a Spanish corps

commanded by General Freyre. When the Duke was informed of the attack
he hastened to the scene of action and placed two British divisions in
reserve, to support the Spaniards, but did not allow them to come into
action. He found the Spaniards running away as fast as they could. He
asked them where they were going. They said they were taking off the
wounded. He immediately sent and ordered the gates of Irun, to which they
were flying, to be shut against them, and sent to Freyre to desire he would
rally his men. This was done, and they sustained the attack of the French;
but General Freyre sent to the Duke to beg he would let his divisions
support him, as he could not maintain himself much longer. The Duke said
to Freyre’s aide-de-camp, ‘If I let a single man fire, the English will swear
they gained the victory, and he had much better do it all himself; besides,
look through my glass, and you will see the French are retreating.’ This was
the case, for a violent storm of rain had occurred, and the French, who had
crossed a river, finding that it began to swell, and that their bridges were in
danger of being carried away, had begun to retreat. The Spaniards
maintained their position, but the Duke said he believed they owed it to the
storm more than to their own resolution.
The Duke wrote to Alava some time ago (three years, I think) and
desired him to advise the King from him, now that he had accepted the
Constitution, to throw himself upon his Ministers. He has not written to
Alava, nor Alava to him, for three years, because he knows that all letters
are opened and read. He says the King of Spain is not clever, but cunning;
his manners are good. He is in correspondence with the Allied Sovereigns,
and is playing false. He has the means of corresponding, because, although
his household is composed of men friendly to the revolution, there is no
restraint upon his person, and he sees whomsoever he pleases. In case of
war the French would obtain complete success. He conceives their object
would be to obtain possession of the person of the King, to overthrow the
Constitution, establish the King upon the throne with a Constitution perhaps
similar to the French Charte, and to establish an army of occupation to
maintain such an order of things till he should be able to form an army of
his own.
The Duke saw the King of France twice while he was in Paris. He was
much broken, but talked of living twelve or DUKE OF WELLINGTON’S RECOLLECTIONS.
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, ‘Il y a
une personne qui regrette beaucoup de n’avoir pas eu le plaisir de vous
voir.’ 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 which is valued at 1,500,000 francs. The
King likes M. de Villèle[19] 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 bâtiment là: si je les démuselais, je
serais détrôné.” I said, “The King has given them freedom of debate, and I
think I go on very well with it.” ’
[19] Villèle 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, became 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 Duc 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.]

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 performances. 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 defence that he was foiled in the impetuous attacks he made upon them,
and after a partial failure which he met with, when he attacked Blücher 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 Blücher, 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 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 retreat,
and that their retreat would have been a difficult operation. 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 Compact. 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[20] managed the King’s
affairs very well, that he was getting him out of debt very quickly, and that
the Ministers were DUKE OF YORK’S ANECDOTES OF GEORGE IV. 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 displease 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 Government; 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 offence that they would
not suffer him to remain in a situation which 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.

[20] [Sir William Knighton, who was originally the King’s physician, had been appointed
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 the duties of that delicate office that the Duke’s
advice applied.]

November 29th, 1823
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, however, that they do not
interest me so much as they would many other people. I have not much
taste for Court gossip. Another 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 Cumberland’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
impressions 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 disturbances 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 made various dispositions, a part of which consisted in the removal of
the regiment on guard at Windsor and the substitution of another in its
place. Orders were expedited to carry this arrangement into effect, and at
the same time he communicated to the King what he had done and desired
his sanction to the arrangement. The Duke’s orders were already in

operation, 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 business was at a standstill. Thus he
thought proper to trifle with the interests of the country to gratify his own
childish caprice. He gave, too, great offence to the Duke, in hindering his
dispositions from being carried into effect, at the same time.
The Duke told me another thing which he thought was indirectly
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
correspondence on the subject Lord Liverpool persuaded the King to
reinstate CHARACTER OF LORD TITCHFIELD. him; but he was obliged to make all
sorts of apologies 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-humour 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.

1824.

March 6th, 1824
Poor Titchfield[21] died last night at eight o’clock, having lingered for
some days in a state which gave to his family alternate hopes and fears. He
was better till yesterday afternoon, when he was removed into another
room; soon after this he grew weaker, and at eight o’clock he expired. He is
a great loss to his family, of which he was by much the cleverest member,
and he was well calculated to fill the situation in which fortune had placed
him. His talents were certainly of a superior description, but their efficacy
was counteracted by the eccentricity of his habits, the indolence of his
mind, and his vacillating and uncertain disposition. He was, however,
occasionally capable of intense application, and competent to make himself
master of any subject he thought fit to grapple with; his mind was
reflecting, combining, and argumentative, but he had no imagination, and to
passion, ‘the sanguine credulity of youth, and the fervent glow of
enthusiasm’ he was an entire stranger. He never had any taste for society,
and attached himself early to politics. He started in life with an enthusiastic
admiration for Mr. Canning, but after two or three years, being thrown into
the society of many of his political opponents, he began to entertain
opinions very different from those of Mr. Canning. He never, however,
enlisted under any political banner, and his great object seemed to be to
prove to the world that he belonged to no party. After Mr. Canning came
into office he took the earliest opportunity of informing his constituents that
he was unfettered by any political connection with him. Titchfield was
never at a public school, but was educated at home. Such an education—the
most injudicious which can be given to a young man destined to fill a great
situation—was not without its effect upon his mind. The superior
indulgences and the early habits of authority and power in which he was
brought up, without receiving correction from any of those levelling
circumstances which are incidental to public schools, threw a shade of
selfishness and reserve over his character, which time, the commerce of the

world, and a naturally kind disposition had latterly done much to correct.
The subject to which he had principally devoted his attention was political
economy, and in the discussions in the House of Commons upon currency
he had particularly distinguished himself. Whatever he attempted he had
done so well that great expectations were entertained of his future success,
and the indications he had given of talent will ensure to his memory a
lasting reputation. He has died at a moment the most fortunate, perhaps, for
his fame as a public man; but his loss to his family is very great, and by
them will be long felt and deeply lamented.
[21] [William Henry, Marquis of Titchfield, eldest son of the fourth Duke of Portland.]

[An interval of two years occurs in the Journal, during which Mr.
Greville wrote nothing.]

CHAPTER III.
The Panic of 1825 — Death of Emperor Alexander — The Duke
of Wellington’s Embassy to St. Petersburg — Robinson
Chancellor of the Exchequer — Small Notes Bill — Death of
Arthur de Ros — George III. and Lord Bute — Illness and
Death of the Duke of York — His Funeral — Lord Liverpool
struck with Paralysis — Rundell’s Fortune and Will — Copley
and Philpots — The Cottage — Formation of Mr. Canning’s
Administration — Secession of the Tories — The Whigs join
him — Dinner at the Royal Lodge — Difficulties of Canning’s
Government — Duke of Wellington visits the King —
Canning’s Death — Anecdotes of Mr. Canning — Recognition
of South American States — His Industry — The Duke of
Wellington on Canning — Lord Goderich’s Administration
formed — The Difficulty about Herries — Position of the Whigs
— The King’s letter to Herries — Peel and George IV. —
Interview of Lord Lansdowne with the King — Weakness of the
Government — First Resignation of Lord Goderich — Lord
Harrowby declines the Premiership — Lord Goderich returns —
Brougham and Rogers — Conversation and Character of
Brougham — Lord Goderich’s Ministry dissolved — Cause of
its Dissolution — Hostility of Herries — Position of Huskisson
and his Friends — Herries and Huskisson both join the New
Cabinet.

1826.

February 12th, 1826
The last three months have been remarkable for the panic in the money
market, which lasted for a week or ten days—that is, was at its height for
that time. The causes of it had been brewing for some months before, and
he must be a sanguine and sagacious politician who shall predict the
termination of its effects. There is now no panic, but the greatest alarm, and
every prospect of great distress, and long continuation of it. The state of the
City, and the terror of all the bankers and merchants, as well as of all
owners of property, is not to be conceived but by those who witnessed it.
This critical period drew forth many examples of great and confiding
liberality, as well as some of a very opposite character. Men of great wealth
and parsimonious habits came and placed their whole fortunes at the
disposal of their bankers in order to support their credit. For many days the
evil continued to augment so rapidly, and the demands upon the Bank were
so great and increasing; that a Bank restriction was expected by everyone.
So determined, however, were Ministers against this measure, that rather
than yield to it they suffered the Bank to run the greatest risk of stopping;
for on the evening of the day on which the alarm was at its worst there were
only 8,000 sovereigns left in the till.[1] The next day gold was poured in,
and from that time things got better.
[1] [Mr. Baring (Lord Ashburton) stated in his pamphlet on this crisis, ‘The gold of the Bank
was drained to within a very few thousand pounds, for although the public returns showed a result
rather less scandalous, a certain Saturday night closed with nothing worth mentioning. It was then
that the Bank applied to Lord Liverpool for an Order in Council to suspend cash payment. A
conference took place between Lord Liverpool, Mr. Huskisson, the governor of the Bank, and Mr.
Baring. The suspension of cash payments was happily averted, chiefly as it was said by the accidental
discovery of a box of one-pound Bank of England notes, to the amount of a million and a half, which
had never been issued, and which the public were content to receive.’ Mr. Tooke, however, states in
his ‘History of Prices’ (Continuation, vol. iv. p. 342) that the lowest amount of the banking treasure
was on the 24th of December, 1825: Coin, 426,000 ℓ .; bullion, 601,000 ℓ .: in all, 1,027,000 ℓ . The
passage in the text refers of course to the banking department only.]

In the midst of all this the Emperor Alexander died, and after a short
period of doubt concerning his successor it was found that Nicholas was to
mount the throne. The first act of the Russian Government was to
communicate to ours their resolution no longer to delay a recognition of the
independence of Greece, and their determination to support that measure if
necessary by force of arms. They invited us to co-operate in this object, but
intimated that if we were not disposed to join them they should undertake it
alone. The Duke of Wellington is gone to Russia, ostensibly to compliment
the new Emperor, but really to concert measures with the Russian Ministry
for carrying this measure into effect; and it is remarkable that the Duke,
upon taking leave of his friends and family to set out on this journey,
FINANCIAL DIFFICULTIES. was deeply affected, as if he had some presentiment that
he should never return. Alava told me that he had frequently taken leave of
him, when both expected that they should never meet again, yet neither
upon that occasion nor upon any other in the course of the seventeen years
that he has known him did he ever see him so moved. Lady Burghersh said
that when he took leave of her the tears ran down his cheeks; he was also
deeply affected when he parted from his mother.
In the discussion which took place on Friday night in the House of
Commons, when the Chancellor of the Exchequer[2] opened his financial
plan, he is deemed to have made a very bad speech, and Huskisson a very
good one. Robinson is probably unequal to the present difficult conjuncture;
a fair and candid man, and an excellent Minister in days of calm and
sunshine, but not endowed with either capacity or experience for these
stormy times, besides being disqualified for vigorous measures by the
remissness and timidity of his character. However, though it is the peculiar
province of the Finance Minister to find a remedy for these disorders, he
may well be excused for not doing that which the united wisdom of the
country seems unequal to accomplish. All men agree as to the existence of
the evil, and all differ as to the causes of it and the measures which will
effect its removal; not one man seems to see his way clearly through the
difficulty; however, ‘time and the hour runs through the roughest day,’ and
probably the country will what is called right itself, and then great credit
will be given to somebody or other who deserves none.
[2] [Right Hon. Frederick John Robinson, Chancellor of the Exchequer from January 1823 to
April 1827; afterwards Viscount Goderich and Earl of Ripon.]

February 20th, 1826
The Small Notes Bill,[3] as it is called, lowered the funds and increased
the alarm among the monied men. Numerous were the complaints of the
inefficacy of the measure for present relief, numerous the predictions of the
ultimate impossibility of carrying it into effect. In the City, however, on
Thursday afternoon things began to improve; there was more confidence
and cheerfulness. On Friday evening the Chancellor of the Exchequer
comes down to the House and surprises everyone by abandoning one part of
his plan, and authorising the Bank to issue one pound notes till October.
The immediate cause of this alteration was a communication which Hudson
Gurney made to the Chancellor, that if he persisted in his Bill he should
send up 500,000ℓ. which he had in Bank of England notes and change them
for sovereigns, and that all country bankers would follow his example.
From this he found that it would be impossible to persist in his original
plan. The great evil now is a want of circulating medium, and as the
immediate effect of the measure would be another run upon the Bank, and
that probably all the gold drawn from it would disappear—for men now are
anxious to hoard gold—this evil would be increased tenfold. The whole
country is in distress from the absence of circulating medium for the
common purposes of life; no country banker will issue notes, for they are
instantly returned upon his hands and exchanged for gold. The circulation
of country notes being generally confined within a very limited extent, the
holders of them can easily present them for payment. The circulation of a
quantity of Bank of England paper will relieve the immediate distress
arising from this necessity, and the difficulty of exchanging them for gold
will ensure the continuance of their circulation. When men find that they
must take notes, and that gold is not to be had without so much pain and
trouble, they will be contented to take the notes to which they have been
accustomed, and will MR. ROBINSON’S SMALL NOTES BILL. think the paper of their
own bankers as good as that of the Bank of England, besides the advantage
of being less exposed to the losses arising from forgery. This is the
argument of the opponents of Robinson’s Bill. It is generally thought that
the Ministers have disgraced themselves by their precipitation and by the
crudeness of their measures. Hitherto they have done nothing towards
removing the present distress, or satisfying the minds of men, but the
contrary. Robinson is obviously unequal to the present crisis. His mind is

not sufficiently enlarged, nor does he seem to have any distinct ideas upon
the subject; he is fighting in the dark.
[3] [On the 10th of February the Chancellor of the Exchequer moved in Committee ‘That all
promissory notes payable on demand issued by licensed Bankers in England or by the Bank of
England for less than 5 ℓ . shall not be issued or circulated beyond the 5th of April next.’ Mr.
Huskisson made an able speech in support of the proposal, showing that the inflation produced by the
small note paper currency had greatly contributed to cause and aggravate the panic (‘Huskisson’s
Speeches,’ vol. ii. p. 444). Mr. Baring, afterwards Lord Ashburton, opposed the restriction of small
notes, but with small success. The period allowed for the contraction of their circulation was,
however, extended to the 10th of October.]

Everybody knows that Huskisson is the real author of the finance
measure of Government, and there can be no greater anomaly than that of a
Chancellor of the Exchequer who is obliged to propose and defend
measures of which another Minister is the real though not the apparent
author. The funds rose nearly two per cent, upon this alteration in the Bill
before the House, on account of the prospect of an abundance of money.
Still it is thought that nothing will be sufficient to relieve the present
distress but an issue of Exchequer bills. So great and absorbing is the
interest which the present discussions excite that all men are become
political economists and financiers, and everybody is obliged to have an
opinion.

February 24th, 1826
I have been since yesterday the spectator of a melancholy scene and
engaged in a sad office. Arthur de Ros,[4] who was taken ill a fortnight ago,
became worse on Monday night. After this time he was scarcely ever
sensible, and yesterday, at a quarter-past two, he expired. After they had
given up all hopes they were induced again to suffer them to revive from
the disappearance of the most unfavourable symptoms; but this was only
the weakness which preceded dissolution, and a few moments after his
brother Henry had told me that he did not despair he came and said that all
was over, and a little while after Rose announced that he had ceased to
breathe. He died tranquilly, and did not suffer at all. I never saw such a
distress. His father, mother, sisters, William, and his wife went immediately
to Boyle Farm. Henry would have followed them, but I persuaded him to go
home. He went first to Mrs. ——, to whom Arthur had been attached for ten

years, and after a painful interview with her he came to his own house; he
has since been too ill to move. I have never seen grief so strong and
concentrated as his; it has exhausted his body and overwhelmed his mind,
and though I knew him to have been much attached to his brother, I did not
believe him capable of feelings so acute as those which he has evinced.
William is much more calm and resigned, a strange, unaccountable thing
considering the characters of the two men—the one so indifferent, and with
feelings so apparently deadened to the affections of this world, and the
other with a sensibility so morbid, and such acute susceptibility and strong
feelings, that the least thing affects him more deeply than very serious
concerns do other men.
[4] [Colonel the Hon. Arthur John Hill de Ros, born 1793, died February 1826. He was aide-de-
camp to his Royal Highness the Duke of York.]

Arthur was an excellent creature, and will be regretted by the Duke
and deeply lamented by all who knew him intimately. His talents were not
brilliant, but he had good sound sense, and was besides modest, diligent,
honest, and trustworthy in a high degree. There breathed not a more
honourable man, and as his ambition did not extend beyond the sphere in
which fortune had placed him and he was contented with his destiny, but for
this illness his career might have been long and prosperous. I went last
night to sleep at the house, that it might not appear to have been entirely
abandoned to the care of servants. The only wish he expressed was that
Francis Russell should succeed him, which I have no doubt he will do.

February 25th, 1826
Received a letter from the Duke of York (to whom I had written to
announce poor Arthur’s death) expressive of the greatest regret for his loss.

March 2nd, 1826
I am just come from poor Arthur’s funeral. There were present William
de Ros, the two Hills, Craufurd, Torrens, Taylor, Francis Russell, Campbell,
and B. Paget. The Duke appointed Francis his aide-de-camp directly.

July 2nd, 1826
Four months since I have written anything.
ILLNESS OF THE DUKE OF YORK.
The Duke of York has been dangerously ill, and it is still doubtful whether
he will recover. I was with him at Frogmore before Ascot; we went with the
King to see Windsor Castle. His Majesty has since been very much annoyed
about the Duke, cried a great deal when he heard how bad he was, and has
been twice to see him.
The elections have been particularly violent and the contests very
numerous. A batch of Peers has been made; everybody cries out against
Charles Ellis’s peerage[5] (Lord Seaford); he has no property, and is of no
family, and his son is already a Peer. The King, when these other Peers were
created, asked Canning to name somebody. He said he had nobody about
whom he was interested but Charles Ellis, and the King consenting to his
elevation, it was all arranged without his knowledge. However, it is thought
very ridiculous, and that he would have done much better to have declined
it. Clanricarde, too, being made a Marquis and an English Peer is thought
an indirect exertion of Canning’s influence.
[5] [Charles Rose Ellis, created Baron Seaford in 1826. Lord Seaford was the father of Charles
Augustus Ellis, who succeeded to the title of Lord Howard de Walden through his mother, Elizabeth
Catherine Caroline Hervey, granddaughter of the fourth Earl of Bristol, who was the last Baron
Howard de Walden, as heir general of Thomas, first Baron. The son of Lord Seaford had married a
daughter of the fifth Duke of Portland, and was consequently a connection of Mr. Canning.]

London, December 14th, 1826
The Duke of York very ill; has been at the point of death several times
from his legs mortifying. Canning’s speech the night before last was most
brilliant; much more cheered by the Opposition than by his own friends. He
is thought to have been imprudent, and he gave offence to his colleagues by
the concluding sentence of his reply, when he said, ‘I called into existence
the new world to redress the balance of the old.’ The I was not relished.
Brougham’s compliment to Canning was magnificent, and he was loudly
cheered by Peel; altogether it was a fine display.
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.

1827.

Friday night, January 5th, 1827, half-past one
I am just come from taking my last look at the poor Duke.[6] 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, Torrens and Dighton, Armstrong and I were upstairs. Armstrong 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; immediately after Taylor came up, and told us it was all over and
begged we would go downstairs. We went directly into the room. The Duke
was sitting exactly as at the DEATH OF THE DUKE OF YORK. moment he died, in his
great arm-chair, dressed in his grey 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
countenance, 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 tranquillity 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
satisfaction we saw such evident signs of the tranquillity of his last
moments.
[6] [His Royal Highness the Duke of York, second son of King George III., died on the 5th of
January, 1827.]

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 Ministers, 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 servants were

then admitted to see the Duke as he lay. Worley[7] 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 respect and attachment to his remains.
[7] [Worley was the Duke’s stud-groom.]

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 continued to receive everybody who called on
him, and went out in his carriage every day. They always said that he was
getting 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 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 operation was kept secret, for the Duke

did not like that his situation 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
ILLNESS OF THE DUKE OF YORK. 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 supporting him, till towards the end of
December, when the constitution 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 obvious 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 invariably 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 operation that he talked of it one
day to me. Up to the last moment that I saw him (the day week before he
died) he told me 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 Stephenson 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 collected 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 prudent 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 vigour 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 humour were
never disturbed, and he 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, 1827
The Duke of York was no sooner dead than the public press began to
attack him, and while those FUNERAL OF THE DUKE OF YORK. private virtues were
not denied him for which he had always been conspicuous, they enlarged in

a strain of severe invective 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 arranged 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 6,000ℓ. 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 thousand copies had been
sold. I dare say many people believe 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 spectacle was by no means imposing; the
cold was intense, and it is only marvellous 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 21st, 1827
Three days ago Lord Liverpool was seized with an apoplectic or
paralytic attack. The moment it was known every sort of speculation was
afloat as to the probable changes this event would make in the Ministry. It
was remarked how little anybody appeared to care about the man; whether
this indifference reflects most upon the world or upon him, I do not pretend
to say. A report was generally circulated that the Duke of Cumberland was
dead, which was believed, but turns out to be untrue.
Old Rundell (of the house of Rundell and Bridge, the great
silversmiths and jewellers) 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 1,400,000ℓ. and 1,500,000ℓ., 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 900,000ℓ.—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 5,000ℓ. apiece.
The old man began the world without a guinea, became in the course of
time partner in that house during its most flourishing 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 INTERVIEW WITH
GEORGE IV. were told at Doctors’ Commons that it was the largest sum that
ever had been registered there.

March 13th, 1827
Since the debate on the Catholic question there has been a great
expectation that Canning would resign. Many of his friends think he made
an imprudent speech that night, and if he had not lashed the Master of the
Rolls so severely that he would have got more votes.[8] The truth is he was
mightily nettled by Dr. Philpots’ pamphlet and at Copley making a speech
taken entirely from it. The Master protested that he had no idea of offending

Canning, and until he got up had no notion that Canning had taken offence
at his speech. The question was lost by accident; several pro-Catholics were
suddenly taken ill or arrived too late for the division, and the election
petitions went all against them.
[8] [Sir John Copley was then Master of the Rolls, but this occurrence did not prevent Canning
from making him Lord Chancellor on the 2nd of May following, when he was raised to the peerage
with the title of Baron Lyndhurst.]

March 16th, 1827
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
bedroom. 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
instant. He kept me about an hour, was very civil, and then dismissed me.
Canning made an apology to the Master of the Rolls for his severity in
the debate on the Catholic question.

March 25th, 1827
When the King heard of Lord Liverpool’s illness he was in great
agitation. He sent for Peel in the night, and told him he must see the Duke
of Wellington. Peel endeavoured to dissuade him, but in vain. The Duke
was sent for, but he refused to go. He sent the King word that he had
nothing to say to him, and that it would not be fair to his colleagues that he
should see the King at such a moment. Consequently he saw none of his
Ministers till he saw Canning, who was taken to the Pavilion in a chair one
day. There have been a variety of reports about Lord Liverpool’s successor
and a new Administration, as always happens on such occasions.

The King is in very good health and excellent spirits. He had a large
party at the Lodge last week, and Canning, the Granvilles, Carlisles,
Lievens, are going there next week. Mount Charles told me yesterday that
next week he thinks something must be decided, and he told me what I did
not know, that the King’s opinions on the Catholic question are just the
same as those of the Duke of York, and equally strong. This is the great
difficulty which Canning has to get over with him. He does not much like
Canning, though C. does everything he can to gratify and please him.
Mount Charles told me that his mother (Lady Conyngham) has strong
opinions in favour of the Catholics, but that she never talks to the King on
the subject, nor indeed upon politics at all.

April 13th, 1827
The King came to town a week ago. From the moment of his arrival
every hour produced a fresh report about the Administration; every day the
new appointment was expected to be declared, and the Ministers Peel, Lord
Bathurst, Duke of Wellington, and Canning were successively designated as
the persons chosen to form a Government. He had no sooner arrived than he
saw his Ministers seriatim, but nothing could induce him to come to any
determination. He wavered and doubted, and to his confidants, with whom
he could bluster and talk big, he expressed in no measured terms his
detestation of Liberal principles, and especially of Catholic Emancipation.
He begged his Ministers to stand by him, and day after day elapsed and
nothing was settled. In the meantime London was alive with reports; and
the on dit of the day, repeated with every variety of circumstance and with
the usual positiveness of entire ignorance, would fill a volume. Time MR.
CANNING’S ADMINISTRATION. crept on, and Parliament was to adjourn on the 13th
(this day). On the 9th Canning went to the King, and, after a long audience,
he came away without anything being settled. On the 10th he went again,
and told his Majesty that longer delay was impossible, and that he must
come to some determination. On the evening of the 10th we received a note
from Lord Bathurst, saying that the King had desired Canning to form an
Administration on the principles of that of which Lord Liverpool had been
at the head. This was not generally known that evening. Last night it was
said that the Duke of Wellington would not remain in the new Cabinet, and

we heard that Peel had resigned. To-day everything will probably be
known. Canning and his friends say that the King has behaved admirably in
this business, and they affect to consider his appointment unconditional and
unfettered; but this is by no means the view which the others take of it. The
King, however, has acted in such a way that all his Ministers (except those
whose interest it now is to laud him to the skies) are disgusted with his
doubting, wavering, uncertain conduct, so weak in action and so
intemperate in language. It is now supposed that he has been influenced by
Knighton in coming to this determination, in which he certainly has acted in
a manner quite at variance with his professions and the whole tenor of his
language. It must be owned, if this is so, that although Canning has gained
his point—has got the power into his hands and is nominally Prime
Minister—no man ever took office under more humiliating circumstances
or was placed in a more difficult and uncertain situation; indeed, a greater
anomaly cannot be imagined. Canning, disliked by the King, opposed by
the aristocracy and the nation, and unsupported by the Parliament, is
appointed Prime Minister. The King, irresolute and uncertain, is induced to
nominate a man whose principles and opinions he fears and dislikes by the
advice and influence of his physician. The measure which is of paramount
importance Canning cannot carry as he desires and believes to be necessary;
he must form a Cabinet full of disunion, and he is doubtful what support he
can expect from the old adherents of Government, by whom he is abhorred.
The writ was moved for Canning yesterday by Wynne, ‘he having
accepted the office of First Commissioner of the Treasury.’ This morning
the Chancellor, Peel, Lord Westmoreland, and the Duke of Wellington
resigned. Lord Bathurst immediately wrote to Canning, saying that, finding
they had resigned, he could not avoid sending in his resignation also; that it
was unnecessary to enter into explanations, which could only tend to widen
the breach such a separation must make. Afterwards Lord Melville
resigned, although well with Canning and a friend to the Catholics; he said
he could not desert the men with whom he had acted for so many years. The
Whigs seem greatly elated at the breaking up of this Administration. The
Tories evidently think Canning is in a scrape, that he will not be able to
form a Government, and that the power will return into their hands. How
Canning and his friends feel is not yet known, nor what the King feels at
being deserted by half his Cabinet. The opinion prevalent with the

Opposition is that Canning has been deserted by his colleagues, who
induced him to accept the Government by promising their support and
adherence, and that when he had taken the final step they left him to make
the arrangements and fill up their places as he could. This, however, is not
the case. I saw George Dawson[9] this evening, and he assured me that
Canning had received ample notice from all these Ministers that they would
not hold office under him, and that if he was appointed Prime Minister they
should resign. Peel told him this three weeks ago: ‘that he could not, with a
due regard to his own character, continue in office under a man whose
opinions are so diametrically opposite to his own upon the most important
question; that he had no views of personal ambition, but MR. CANNING’S
ADMINISTRATION. that as the administration of Ireland was his peculiar province
it was impossible they should not come into constant collision upon that
subject.’ They had no objection to act with Canning, always considering
him as one of the most influential members of the Cabinet, but they could
not hold offices under him. He said that he could not imagine how Canning
with his knowledge could take such a step, and it is evident that he has no
idea of his being able to carry on the Government at all.
[9] The Right Hon. George Robert Dawson was Secretary of the Treasury from 1828 to 1830,
and was made a Privy Councillor on resigning that office. He married in 1816 Mary, the eldest
daughter of the first Sir Robert Peel, and was consequently the brother-in-law of Mr. Peel, the
Minister.

April 30th, 1827
From the period of Canning’s acceptance of office up to Thursday
night there have been continual negotiations between Canning and the
Whigs, and it is not possible to imagine greater curiosity and more intense
anxiety than have been exhibited during the interval. The violence and
confusion of parties have been extreme—the new Ministers furious with
their old colleagues, the ex-Ministers equally indignant with those they left
behind them.

May 12th, 1827

It is necessary to go back to the first formation of the Government.[10]
As soon as Canning had got the King’s commission he began to negotiate,
and the Whigs readily enough entered into negotiation. The friends of
Ministers resigned one after another, and for some time it seemed very
doubtful whether Canning would be able to form a Government at all. His
first measure was, however, very judicious—that of appointing the Duke of
Clarence Lord High Admiral—nothing served so much to disconcert his
opponents. The negotiations went on (through the Duke of Devonshire) up
to the end of the Easter recess, when Lord Lansdowne came to town, and
after much delay it was announced that the Whigs would support the new
Government, but that none of them would take office immediately. The
places were all filled up, but the appointments were understood to be only
provisional, and the Duke of Portland, Lord Dudley, and Sturges Bourne
were considered to hold their offices until Lord Lansdowne, Lord Carlisle,
and Tierney should join the Cabinet. With this arrangement Parliament met,
and the rage which had been accumulating in the minds of the seceders
soon burst forth in a furious attack on this provisional arrangement. The
Whigs have nearly in a body joined Government, with the exception of
Lord Grey in the House of Lords, who in a speech full of eloquence
attacked Canning’s political life and character and announced his intention
of remaining neuter. In the meantime it was understood that there was a
reason for Lord Lansdowne not joining Government immediately, which
was not to be made public till that event took place, and this secret was only
imparted to a very few people; it was even concealed from Brougham and
the leaders of the party. The secret, however, turns out to be this: Lord
Lansdowne insisted upon modelling the Irish Government as he pleased—
that is, in putting a Lord-Lieutenant, a Chancellor, and a Secretary there
favourable to the Catholic claims, to which the King would not consent.
Canning entreated Lord Lansdowne to have patience, to allow time to
elapse, during which the King’s scruples might be removed, and promised
that every endeavour should be made to reconcile the King to the
arrangement Lord Lansdowne desired. After much discussion it was
resolved that Lord Lansdowne should support Government, but that he
should not take office until this point was settled; and so the matter has
remained.
[10] [The Cabinet formed by Mr. Canning was thus constituted:—
Mr. Canning, First Lord of the Treasury and Chancellor of the Exchequer.

Lord Lyndhurst, Lord High Chancellor.
Earl of Harrowby, Lord President of the Council.
Duke of Portland, Lord Privy Seal, and afterwards the Earl of Carlisle.
Lord Dudley, Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs.
Lord Goderich, Secretary of State for Colonial Affairs and War.
Mr. Sturges Bourne, Secretary of State for the Home Department (this office was shortly
afterwards transferred to the Marquis of Lansdowne)
Mr. Huskisson, President of the Board of Trade.
Mr. Wynn, President of the Board of Control.
Lord Bexley, Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster.
Mr. Tierney, Master of the Mint.
The Duke of Clarence was named Lord High Admiral.
The Office of Commander-in-Chief remained vacant during the Administration of Mr. Canning.
This Administration lasted ninety-eight days, until the death of Mr. Canning.]

June 3rd, 1827
Soon after writing this Lord Lansdowne came MR. CANNING’S
ADMINISTRATION. into the Cabinet, together with Tierney and Lord Carlisle,
M‘Donald and Abercromby also taking places. They found so many
objections to the unsettled state of the Cabinet, and the provisional
arrangements had brought so much odium and ridicule upon the
Government, that it was thought necessary to settle this matter without loss
of time, but Lord Lansdowne would not consent to take the Home Office
except upon the conditions on which he had before insisted. He therefore
came into the Cabinet without a place. But it is quite evident that the
present state of affairs is far from satisfactory; the Government is not
established on a firm or secure basis, and the members of it are not
altogether satisfied with each other or themselves. Lord Lansdowne
particularly does not feel comfortable where he is, and does not think that
he has been well treated by his own friends. It seems that when first
overtures were made to him by Canning he called a meeting of his friends
at Lansdowne House, at which he declared his own sentiments and the
conditions on which he would join the Government. The persons there
assembled unanimously agreed with him, but a few days after a meeting
was called at Brooks’s which was more numerously attended, and there
certain resolutions were agreed upon which were not in conformity with the
opinions expressed in Lansdowne House, and these resolutions were
communicated to Canning as the sentiments of the great body of the Whigs,

but without the same being imparted to Lord Lansdowne, who was then at
Bowood (this fact I had last night from Duncannon[11] and Hobhouse[12]).
Matters, however, went on quietly enough till the other night, when the
Government was beat in the House of Lords upon the clause in the Corn
Bill, and this defeat it is obvious has enraged and embarrassed them to the
greatest degree.[13] Duncannon, who is entirely in the confidence of the
moderate Whig party, says that it is impossible the thing can go on in this
way; three Lords in the King’s household (Errol, Macclesfield, and
Delawarr) voted against the Bill, and if they are not dismissed it will be
such a proof of the feebleness of Government as will disgust all the Whigs
and make their support very lukewarm.[14] Burdett, who was more active
and zealous than anybody in bringing about the Coalition, is very much
disgusted already, and there appears altogether such a want of confidence
and unanimity among them as must lead to the dissolution of the
Government unless Canning can by some vigorous measures establish his
credit and convince the world of his strength. In Ireland the Chancellor[15]
has refused to put the Great Seal to the appointment of Doherty as Solicitor-
General. It is supposed that he will take this occasion to resign, and it will
then be seen what part the King will take in the nomination of his successor.
The King sees numbers of people, talks incessantly, and does nothing.
Canning was with him yesterday evening, and the result of his audience will
be very interesting, because it will appear whether he has insisted upon, and
the King consented to, the dismissal of the refractory Lords, as well as what
he will do about the Irish Chancellor. Government are indignant with the
Duke of Wellington and the other ex-Ministers for opposing the Corn Bill,
which they had been themselves (when in office) instrumental in framing,
as well as for the use which the Duke made of Huskisson’s letter.
[11] [John William, Viscount Duncannon, afterwards fourth Earl of Bessborough.]
[12] [Mr. John Cam Hobhouse, M.P. for Westminster, afterwards Sir John C. Hobhouse, Bart.,
raised to the peerage in 1851 by the title of Baron Broughton de Giffard.]
[13] [It was with reference to this defeat that Canning said soon afterwards in the House of
Commons that ‘the Duke of Wellington had been made the instrument of others for their own
particular views,’ and he pledged himself to bring in another Corn Bill in the following session. But
these were almost the last words uttered by Canning in Parliament.]
[14] [Lord Delawarr resigned of his own accord, Lord Errol was obliged to resign, and Lord
Macclesfield came over and voted with Government on the second reading of the Corn Bill.]

[15] [Lord Manners was still Lord Chancellor of Ireland, as he had been since 1807. Mr.
Doherty was made Solicitor-General for Ireland on the 18th of June.]

June 17th, 1827
I was at the Royal Lodge for one night last THE ROYAL LODGE. 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
internal arrangements; the King was very well and in excellent spirits, but
very weak in his knees and could not walk without 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 dulness must be excessive, and the people who
compose his habitual society are the most insipid and uninteresting that can
be found. As for Lady Conyngham, she looks bored to death, and she never
speaks, never appears to have one word to say to the King, who, however,
talks himself without ceasing. Canning came the day I went away, and was
very well received by his Majesty; he looked dreadfully 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
cannot 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 merrymaking in his absence; it indicates a strange sort of power
possessed by him.
The King was very civil to the Duke of Dorset, and repeatedly told
him that what had passed would make no difference in their private
friendship. In the meantime the Corn Bill has been thrown out, and I think
political animosities are full as strong as ever, though they have taken rather
a sulky than a violent tone. I had a long conversation with Duncannon
yesterday, who is fully possessed of the sentiments of all the Whigs, and by
what he says it is clear that they are extremely dissatisfied; they want
Canning to display his power by some signal act of authority, and to show
that he is really supported cordially by the King. The opposite party are
persuaded that the King is secretly inclined to them and averse to his
present Government, and this opinion obtains more or less with the public
in consequence of the impunity with which Canning has been braved by the
Chancellor in Ireland. The appointment of Doherty as Solicitor-General has
never yet passed the Great Seal, and Lord Manners refuses to sanction it; he
has likewise refused to put Sir Patrick Bellew (a Catholic) in the
Commission of the Peace, though he is a respectable man and he has been
strongly pressed to do it even by Protestants. This refusal so disgusted
Duncannon that he was very near withdrawing his name from the
Commission, and if he had his example would have been followed by many
others, but Lord Spencer dissuaded him from doing so. Lord Grey is in such
a state of irritation that he will hardly speak to any of his old friends, and he
declares that he will never set his foot in Brooks’s again. All this is the more
extraordinary, and the vivacity of his temper the more unaccountable,
because he has constantly declined taking an active part in politics when
invited to do so for a long time past; and whenever Duncannon has asked
his advice or consulted his opinions or wishes, he has invariably referred
him to Lord Lansdowne as HOSTILITY OF LORD GREY. the person whom his friends
were to look upon as their leader, asserting that he had withdrawn himself
from public life and would have no more concern with politics. More than
this, when first overtures were made by Canning to the Whigs, it was the
unanimous opinion of all those who have since joined the Government that
Lord Lansdowne and his friends could not join an Administration of which

Peel was to be a member (for at that time the resignation of Peel was not
contemplated as a probable event), and this opinion was warmly combated
by Lord Grey, who contended that there was no reason why they should not
coalesce with Canning and Peel. What induced him to alter his opinion so
decidedly and to become so bitter an enemy to the present arrangements
does not appear, unless it is to be attributed to a feeling of pique and
resentment at not having been more consulted, or that overtures were not
made to himself. The pretext he took for declaring himself was the
appointment of Copley to be Chancellor, when he said that it was
impossible to support a Government which had made such an appointment.

July 5th, 1827
The session is over, and has been short but violent enough. There is
apparently a majority against the Ministry in the House of Lords, though
they seem safe in the House of Commons. All depends upon Canning’s
prudence and firmness during the recess. As to the King, he seems desirous
of living a quiet life and disposing of all patronage; public measures and
public men are equally indifferent to him. The Duke of Wellington, who
knows him well, says he does not care a farthing about the Catholic
question, but he does not like to depart from the example of his father and
the Duke of York, to which they owed so much of their popularity. His
conduct is entirely influenced by selfish considerations, and he neither
knows nor cares what measures the exigencies of the country demand. The
present state of parties is so extraordinary that it cannot last, and it remains
to be seen whether Lord Grey and the other Whigs will reunite themselves
to the main body and support Canning’s Government, or whether they will
join with the Tories in their efforts to overturn it. Lord Grey’s temper,
irritated by the attacks which have been made on him, seems likely to urge
him to the latter alternative.

July 25th, 1827
Canning is gone to Chiswick, where he has had the lumbago, and
could not go to the Council last week. He is very unwell, and in a very

precarious state, I think. I was at the Council last Monday week; it was held
for the appointment of Lords Lansdowne and Carlisle, Lord Lansdowne
having consented to take the Home Office, and Lord Carlisle the Privy Seal;
the only Cabinet Ministers present were the four who changed places. It
was the first time the King had given Lord Lansdowne an audience, but I
believe he was very civil to him. The King gave him an account of the Duke
of Buckingham’s visit to him (from Dropmore), the result of which was that
he sent his proxy to Lord Goderich, but not with a good grace.
The Duke of Wellington has been to the Lodge, and great is the
speculation thereupon.[16] It is fiercely debated whether he went by
invitation or not, and how long he stayed. He was only with the King
twenty minutes, for so Prince Leopold, who was there, told Lambton, who
told me. I don’t know if he was invited or no. The King has taken from
Prince Leopold the plate that was given, or, as they now say, lent to him, on
his marriage. The Chamberlain sent to Sir E. Gardiner for it in the Prince’s
absence, and he refused to give it up without his Royal Highness’s orders,
but the Prince, as soon as he heard of it, ordered it to be sent to the
Chamberlain.

[16] [The causes and consequences of this visit, which was by invitation from the King, are
related in the Duke of Wellington’s ‘Correspondence,’ New Series, vol. iv. p. 63 et seq.]

The Irish Chancellor has given way about Doherty’s appointment, and
put the Great Seal to it before his own resignation. He did it with a good
grace, Lord Lansdowne told me.
We went all over the Castle the other day; his Majesty will not let
anybody see it now. I don’t think enough is effected for the enormous sums
expended, though it is a fine DEATH OF CANNING. and will be a good house; still,
how far (as a palace) from Versailles, St. Cloud, and the other palaces in
France! The external terrace has spoilt the old one, and is altogether a
frightful excrescence, and should never have been made.

August 9th, 1827
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 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.
replied 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.
Yesterday I saw some letters from Mr. Arbuthnot[17] (Gosh) giving an
account of the break-up of the old Government, and of the reasons by which
they had been influenced in resigning. They were three in number, very
violent and indignant, defending the Duke and attacking Canning, but they
contained little more than has since appeared and been made public. The
only fact that appeared to me of consequence was this: that Peel, though he
had resigned on different grounds, was indignant at the way in which the
Duke had been treated, and was resolved never to take office till full
reparation had been made to him; that Lord Bathurst had begged Gosh (Mr.
Arbuthnot) not to mention this, as it might do harm. The next letter was a
long tirade with a great deal of wrath and indignation, such as might be
expected. He says that they knew Canning was negotiating with the Whigs
while he was pretending that he wished the old Government to go on; and
that in the course of the negotiation with his old colleagues he offered Peel,
if he would stay with him, to recall the pro-Catholic Lord-Lieutenant and
send a Protestant. Peel wanted the Duke to give up the army and take the
Treasury, which he would not hear of. He was miserable at the idea, and
opposed it so strongly that they could not press it upon him. However, the
Peers—meaning all the Lords who had made such a stir—applied to the
Duke to put himself at the head of the Government, but he hardly sent an
answer to their application—he would not hear of it.
[17] [Right Hon. Charles Arbuthnot, the most confidential friend of the Duke of Wellington,
with whom he lived. He was known in society by the nickname of ‘Gosh,’ by which he is frequently
described in these Journals.]

I may here introduce some anecdotes of Canning told me by Lord
George Bentinck, his private secretary:—
Some time after they had been in office (after Lord Londonderry’s
death) they found in a drawer, which apparently had been forgotten or
overlooked, some papers, which were despatches and copies of
correspondence between Lord Castlereagh and Lord Stewart. These
despatches were very curious, and more particularly so after his attack last
year on Canning for misappropriating the secret service money, for they
gave an account of his own employment of the secret service money in

getting Italian witnesses for the Queen’s trial. There was likewise an
account of the discovery ANECDOTES OF CANNING. Stewart had made of the
treachery of an office messenger, who had for a long time carried all his
despatches to Metternich before he took them to England, and Lord Stewart
says, ‘I tremble when I think of the risk which my despatches have incurred
of coming before the House of Commons, as there were letters of Lord
Londonderry’s written expressly “to throw dust in the eyes of the
Parliament.” ’ These were his own expressions, and he said, ‘You will
understand this and know what to say to Metternich.’ In fact, while Lord
Castlereagh was obliged to pretend to disapprove of the Continental system
of the Holy Alliance he secretly gave Metternich every assurance of his
private concurrence, and it was not till long after Mr. Canning’s accession
that Metternich could be persuaded of his sincerity in opposing their views,
always fancying that he was obliged to act a part as his predecessor had
done to keep the House of Commons quiet.
From the moment Mr. Canning came into the Cabinet he laboured to
accomplish the recognition of the South American Republics, but all the
Cabinet were against him except Lord Liverpool, and the King would not
hear of it. The King was supported in his opposition by the Duke of
Wellington and by Lieven and Esterhazy, whom he used to have with him;
and to them he inveighed against Canning for pressing this measure. The
Duke of Wellington and those Ambassadors persuaded his Majesty that if he
consented it would produce a quarrel between him and his allies, and
involve him in inextricable difficulties. Canning, who knew all this, wrote
to Mrs. Canning in terms of great bitterness, and said if the King did not
take care he would not let him see these Ambassadors except in his
presence, and added, ‘I can tell his Majesty that his father would never have
acted in such a manner.’ At length after a long contest, in the course of
which Peel came round to him, he resolved to carry the measure or resign.
After a battle in the Cabinet which lasted three hours, and from which he
came heated, exhausted, and indignant, he prepared a memorial to the King,
and Lord Liverpool another, in which they tendered their resignations,
alleging at length their reasons, and this they submitted to the Cabinet the
following day. When their colleagues found they were in earnest they
unanimously surrendered, and agreed upon a declaration to the King that
they would all resign unless the measure was adopted. This communication

was made to his Majesty by the Duke of Wellington, who told him that he
found Canning was in earnest, and that the Government could not go on
without him, and he must give way. The King accordingly gave way, but
with a very ill grace.[18] When he saw Canning he received him very ill, and
in a letter to him signifying his assent to the measure he said that it must be
his business to have it carried into effect in the best way it would admit of.
Canning took fire at the ungracious tone of the letter, and wrote for answer
that he feared he was not honoured with that confidence which it was
necessary that the King should have in his Ministers, and that his Majesty
had better dismiss him at once. The King sent no answer, but a gracious
message, assuring him he had mistaken his letter, and desiring he would
come to the Cottage, when he received him very well. From that time he
grew in favour, for when the King found that none of the evils predicted of
this measure had come to pass, and how it raised the reputation of his
Minister, he liked it very well, and Canning dexterously gave him all the
praise of it, so that he soon fancied it had originated with himself, and
became equally satisfied with himself and with Canning.
[18] [The memorial of Mr. Canning on this subject, the counter-opinions of the Duke of
Wellington, and the King’s minute upon them have been published in the second volume of the New
Series of the ‘Duke of Wellington’s Correspondence,’ pp. 354, 364, and 402.]

Canning concealed nothing from Mrs. Canning, nor from Charles
Ellis. When absent from Mrs. C. he wrote everything to her in the greatest
detail. Canning’s industry was such that he never left a moment
unemployed, and such was the clearness of his head that he could address
himself almost at the same time to several different subjects with perfect
precision and without the least embarrassment. He wrote very fast, but not
fast enough for his mind, composing WELLINGTON’S OPINION OF CANNING. much
quicker than he could commit his ideas to paper. He could not bear to
dictate, because nobody could write fast enough for him; but on one
occasion, when he had the gout in his hand and could not write, he stood by
the fire and dictated at the same time a despatch on Greek affairs to George
Bentinck and one on South American politics to Howard de Walden, each
writing as fast as he could, while he turned from one to the other without
hesitation or embarrassment.

August 10th, 1827
The Cabinet sat yesterday morning and again at night. It is generally
believed that Lord Goderich will succeed Canning at the Treasury, and Lord
Lansdowne has no objection to serve under him. The Tories were full of
hope and joy at first, but in proportion as they were elated at first so were
they dejected yesterday, when they found that the King sent for Lord
Goderich and not for the Duke of Wellington. He never seems to have
thought of the Duke at all. It will all be out to-day or to-morrow. The Tories
may now give the King up. They have taken leave of office, except Peel,
who will come in some day or other.
[They remained out of office five months. What a prophecy!—January
28th, 1828.]
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) particularly 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 I
do not believe, for I have always heard that he saw everything and did
everything himself. Not a despatch was received that he did not read, nor
one written that he did not dictate or correct.

August 20th, 1827
There was a Council at Windsor Castle on Friday last, which was a
very curious scene. What I saw puzzled me very much till matters have
since been explained to me.
On Tuesday morning Drummond, Lord Goderich’s private secretary,
came to me at my office and told me the Council would be held on Friday,
and that Herries was to be appointed Chancellor of the Exchequer and was
going down that day with Lord Goderich to Windsor. Accordingly when I
arrived at the Castle I found Herries in the room, and I asked him if he was
to take an oath as Chancellor of the Exchequer, because there was none in
the oath-book for Chancellor, but one for the Treasurer of the Exchequer,
and whether he was to take that. He said he did not know, upon which I
asked Wynn if he knew. He did not; when we all agreed to wait till Lord
Bexley came,[19] and enquire of him what he had done. When Lord Bexley
arrived we asked him, and he said that Herries would only be sworn then as
a Privy Councillor, and must take the oath of Chancellor of Exchequer in
the Court of Exchequer. Shortly after we walked round the Castle, and some
conversation occurring about the elevation of the Round Tower, which
Wyattville was anxious to accomplish, Herries said to him, ‘But it is my
business now to ask you what you will do it for, how much it will cost. Will
you do it for 10,000ℓ.?’ COUNCIL AT WINDSOR. Wyattville said, ‘You must give
me 15,000ℓ.,’ so that I could have no doubt that Herries was Chancellor of
the Exchequer. In the meantime all the Ministers arrived, the whole Cabinet
being present except the Chancellor and Lord Anglesey, who arrived
afterwards. As soon as Lord Goderich and Lord Lansdowne were come they
retired into the next room and had a long conference. Shortly afterwards the
King came, when Lord Goderich went into his room. He stayed some time,
when the Duke of Portland went in, then Herries. When Lord Goderich
came out he had another conference with Lord Lansdowne, at the end of
which he went again to the King. He came out, and at the end of three-
quarters of an hour went a third time, and after him Herries a second time,
and with him Lord Bexley. Another very animated conversation took place
between Lord Lansdowne and Lord Goderich, when the latter went to the
King a fourth time, and after him Lord Lansdowne, Goderich whispering
something to him as he went in. Previous to this I remarked a conference
between Lord Lansdowne, Goderich, and Carlisle, after which Carlisle took

Tierney into the next room, evidently communicating what had passed.
Something was clearly going on, but I could not make out what. I fancied
that Lord Lansdowne insisted upon Lord Holland’s being in the Cabinet.
Yesterday, however, I discovered that it was all about Herries and his
appointment. The appointment was the King’s, with whom Herries had
ingratiated himself by transacting some of his pecuniary business, and
getting odds and ends for him out of droits, &c. The King then named him,
and Goderich made no objection. Herries came to Windsor, not doubting
but that he was to receive the seals, which in fact Goderich brought down
with him on purpose. Lord Lansdowne, however, declared that he would
not consent to the appointment, and hence arose all the conferences and
audiences for which I could not account at the time. The Whigs dislike
Herries’ politics, and still more do they object to the King taking upon
himself to nominate the members of the Government without consulting his
Ministers. They are determined to resist this nomination, and the
consequence of Lord Lansdowne’s remonstrance was the suspension at least
of the appointment. Such is the state of affairs, and not a very agreeable
state certainly.
[19] [Lord Bexley as Mr. Vansittart had been Chancellor of the Exchequer, from 1812 to 1823.]

The Whigs are satisfied of the candour, fairness, and plain dealing of
Goderich, but dissatisfied with his facility and want of firmness. The King
is grasping at power and patronage, and wants to take advantage of the
weakness of the Government and their apparent dependence upon him to
exercise all the authority which ought to belong to the Ministers. The Whigs
are not easy in their places. They feel that they are not treated with the
consideration to which they are entitled. But they have got too far to recede,
and they evidently are alarmed lest, if they exasperate the King, he should
accept their resignation and form a Government by a junta of the old Tories
with the rest of his Administration, by which their exclusion would be made
certain and perpetual. I find that the Duke of Portland was likewise named
by the King himself. They do not object to the Duke, on the contrary, but
they object greatly to his being so appointed. All this I have from Tierney,
who added, if the Duke had been proposed to the King by Lord Goderich,
not a member of the Cabinet would have objected, but they don’t like his
being named by the King. At the end of the Council, on Friday, Lord
Anglesey arrived, having travelled day and night, and brought with him the

Duke of Wellington’s acceptance of the command of the army. Altogether it
was a day of unusual interest, and unlike the dulness of ordinary Councils.

September 1st, 1827
Since the Council on the 17th the affair of Herries has still been going
on. It appears that when Goderich went into the King (at the Council) to
announce to him the objection that had been raised, his Majesty was very
angry, angry at having been so committed and at being obliged to give up a
nomination he liked. Herries naturally felt himself very ill treated and
nettled by the attacks upon him in the newspapers. He has ever since
insisted upon being admitted to the Cabinet as the only MR. HERRIES’
APPOINTMENT. thing which could afford due reparation to his honour, and
prove that he had not been rejected for the reasons which had been
assigned. This the Ministers opposed, and it was at length determined that
this matter should rest till Huskisson’s return. Huskisson agreed with his
colleagues about Herries, went to the King, and spoke to him openly and
firmly on the subject. The King consented that another arrangement should
be made; the one proposed was, that Sturges Bourne should be Chancellor
of the Exchequer, and Herries take the Woods and Forests without a seat in
the Cabinet. Herries, who had constantly refused to accede to any
arrangement by which he was to be excluded from the Cabinet, said he
would consider of it; but in the meantime Sturges took fright, and refused to
take the Exchequer. In vain Huskisson offered to take all the trouble on
himself, and they all tried to persuade Sturges. He would not do it, and so
this arrangement fell to the ground. They went again to the King yesterday
to report progress and state to him what had occurred. When they came
back (Goderich, Huskisson, Sturges, Herries, and the Chancellor) Goderich
wrote a long letter to Lord Lansdowne, and he is to go to the King again
this evening.
I had a long conversation with Tierney yesterday, and I find that the
Whig Ministers are sick to death of their situation and anxious to resign.
They think they are not treated with the consideration which is due to them
whether as individuals or as the representatives of a great party who are
supporting the Government. Then they think Goderich has behaved so ill in

this affair that they can have no confidence in him. They believe so much in
the integrity of his character that they do not suspect him of any duplicity in
what has passed, but his conduct has been marked by such deplorable
weakness as shows how unfit he is for the situation he occupies. He has
acted equally ill to the King, to his colleagues, and to Herries himself. The
history of the transaction is this:—While Goderich was Chancellor of the
Exchequer Herries was the man upon whose assistance he relied to carry on
the business of his office, and who in fact did it all for him. As soon as he
was at the head of the Treasury he felt that Herries would be equally
necessary to him, and he accordingly pressed him to take the office of
Chancellor of the Exchequer, which Herries declined. After repeated
solicitations, Herries told him that he had no objection to belong to his
Government, and that he would take the office of Vice-President of the
Board of Trade, and do all his Treasury business for him (this is the account
of Herries’ friends, which seems to me somewhat doubtful), though he did
not wish to be in the Cabinet. At last, however, Goderich prevailed on
Herries to let him propose him to the King, which was done. The
appointment was particularly agreeable to the King, who wrote a letter with
his own hand to Herries, desiring him to take the place. When Goderich
returned to town, with this letter in his pocket, he went (before he delivered
it) to the Cabinet, and then mentioning Herries, without saying what had
passed, he found that the Cabinet would not approve of the appointment, on
which he went to Herries, and said that he found that it would not do, and
begged him to allow his appointment to be cancelled. Herries told him that
he had never desired it, and was quite ready to give it up. As soon as
Herries had agreed to give it up Goderich pulls out of his pocket the King’s
letter, and says, ‘By-the-by, here is a letter which I ought to have given you
before.’ When Herries had read this letter he said, ‘This puts me quite in
another situation, and though I am still ready to give up being Chancellor of
the Exchequer, I must have my conduct explained to the King, and you
must take me down to Windsor to-morrow for that purpose.’ This Goderich
refused to do, when Herries said he should go down by himself. He did so,
and then passed all which I have described above in the account of the
Council on the 19th. I ought to have mentioned, as not the least curious
circumstance of the Council, that in the middle of it the King sent for Sir
William Knighton, who was closeted with him for an hour. I see this
account is not altogether the same as the preceding, a proof of the

inaccuracy of anecdotes LORD LANSDOWNE AND THE KING. and historical facts
whenever they differ. This is the true one.
Henry de Ros told me that he saw George Dawson, Peel’s brother-in-
law, at Brighton, who told him that he believed there was nobody the King
was more exasperated against than Peel, and for this reason:—When the
late Government (Canning’s) was forming, Peel went to the King, and in
reply to his desire that he should form a part of it told him he could not
continue in any Government the head of which was a supporter of Catholic
Emancipation. The King proposed to him to remain, with a secret pledge
and promise from him that the question should not be carried. This of
course Peel refused, and the King, who construed his rejection of the
disgraceful proposal as conveying a doubt of his word, dismissed him with
much resentment.

September 15th, 1827
Taking up the account from where I left off, Goderich went to the
King, and it was settled Herries was to be Chancellor of the Exchequer. He
returned and wrote to Lord Lansdowne entreating him to acquiesce. Lord
Lansdowne went to the King, and the result of his interview was that he
retained office together with his friends. He wrote a letter to one of them,
which he intended might be communicated to others, giving an account of
his conduct and motives. I saw this letter. He said the King received him
very well and spared no entreaties to him to keep office. The King said that
he was most anxious the present Government should continue on every
account, but more particularly on account of what was now passing on the
Continent; that Lord Lansdowne’s holding office was indispensable for this
object, and he asked him in his own name and for the sake of the country
not to resign; that what had occurred had arisen out of a series of blunders
which, ‘let me say,’ he added, ‘were neither yours nor mine.’ Lord
Lansdowne said it was put to him in such a way that he could not do
otherwise; that he had insisted with Goderich that Stanley and
Mackintosh[20] should be employed. This was the pith of his letter. I have
been with Huskisson for a week in the country; he is in good health and
excellent spirits. Capo d’Istria was there, going to Greece. Huskisson told

me he wanted money. He owned to me that he considered Greece as a great
humbug. I discovered from what he said that they only interfered that they
might keep the Russians quiet and prevent a war between Russia and
Turkey. The Sultan had announced his intention of sending any Minister to
the Seven Towers who should communicate the treaty to him.[21]
Everything is now quiet for the moment, and will probably continue so till
the meeting of Parliament.
[20] [Mr Stanley, afterwards Earl of Derby, had taken office under Mr. Canning, and was Under-
Secretary of State for the Colonies from April 1827 till January 1828. Lord Lansdowne must have
recommended him for a higher office.]
[21] [The Treaty of London for the Settlement of the Affairs of Greece was signed by England,
France, and Russia on the 7th of July, 1827. It was of course received with indignation by the Porte,
and led three months afterwards to the battle of Navarino, which was fought on the 20th of October.]

December 13th, 1827
Three months have passed since the above was written. I went to
Doncaster and Chatsworth, then to Newmarket, and returned to town the
middle of last month. The battle of Navarino has been fought, and after
three weeks’ expectation we know very little about the matter. The strong
part of the Cabinet, with Huskisson at the head, are for letting things take
their course, and for suffering Russia to go to war with Turkey, and leaving
it to her to enforce the articles of the Treaty of London. The plan is that
Russia should occupy Moldavia and Wallachia; that the terms should then
be offered to the Sultan, and that on his yielding the Greek independence
these provinces should be evacuated by the Russians; this is what they
propose that our mediation shall effect. In the meantime the Ministers are
uneasy about the approaching meeting of Parliament. They anticipate a
violent opposition in the House of Lords; they are by no means sure of a
majority in that House, and there is not one among them who has spirit and
character enough to face it. Lord Dudley is terrified LORD GODERICH’S
RESIGNATION. to the greatest degree at the notion of being attacked by Lord
Grey. Then, though they are not disunited, they derive no strength from
mutual co-operation and support, and the tone which the King has assumed,
and the peremptory manner in which he has claimed the disposal of every
sort of patronage, is both a proof of the weakness of Government, a source

of discord among themselves, and the cause of distrust mixed with
contempt on the part of many of their friends. The King and the Duke of
Clarence made the promotions and dispensed the honours after the battle of
Navarino without consulting the Ministers. The King gave Sumner the
Bishopric of Winchester in the same way,[22] and there is a very general
opinion that the Cabinet is weak, that they do not act together with
cordiality, that they have neither energy nor authority, and are not likely to
keep their places. It has been currently reported that they would willingly
have censured Codrington, and have thrown the responsibility of the battle
from their own shoulders upon his, if they had dared, but that they were
prevented by the precipitate approbation expressed by the King. These
things are greatly exaggerated, but are not without foundation.
[22] [Vide supra, p. 45, when Lord Liverpool caused the nomination of Mr. Sumner to a canonry
of Windsor to be cancelled, because he had not been consulted. The King took the earliest
opportunity of appointing him to the See of Llandaff, whence he was soon afterwards translated to
that of Winchester. He died in 1874.]

December 15th, 1827
The Ministry is at an end. Goderich resigned either by letter to the
King yesterday or at the Council on Thursday. They have been going on ill
together for some time. Goderich has no energy, and his colleagues are
disgusted at his inefficiency, and at the assumption by the King of all power
in disposing of patronage. Huskisson is away, and wishes to be out. They
are embarrassed with the Greek question, and have to meet Parliament with
an immense deficiency in the revenue. This state of things and mutual
irritation and dissatisfaction have at length produced Goderich’s
resignation. Yesterday the Chancellor, Dudley, and Huskisson were
backwards and forwards to the King all day, and when he went to Windsor
at half-past five they were still in the Palace, and he left them there in
consultation. He is gone, but Knighton remains behind to negotiate and
communicate. In the meantime I find that the King is quite mad upon the
Catholic question, and that his real desire is to get rid of the Whigs, take
back the Duke of Wellington, and make an anti-Catholic Government. This
seems to be quite impossible in the present state of affairs, but a few days
will probably produce some decisive change.

1828.

January 2nd, 1828
As soon as Lord Goderich had resigned they sent to Lord Harrowby
and offered him the Premiership. He came to town directly, and went to the
King, but refused the place. His refusal was immediately known, and of
course there were a variety of conjectures and opinions afloat as to the man
who would be chosen. A few days, however, put an end to these, for it was
announced, to the astonishment of everybody, that Goderich had returned to
town, and that he would not resign. Here ended this matter, which made a
great noise for a few days; but the effects of what passed are yet to be seen
when Parliament meets. The injury which Goderich’s conduct has done to
the Government is incalculable, for it has brought them into such low
estimation that it is the general opinion they will not be able to retain their
places, and there are a great variety of persons in both Houses of Parliament
who are disposed to withdraw from them the support which they did give to
Canning’s Government, and which they were previously inclined to give to
this. As matters now stand they do not themselves know upon whom they
can count, nor who are their friends and who their foes. They are, however,
to have Lord Holland in the Cabinet, to help them on in the House of Lords,
but it is very doubtful whether his appointment will not lead to the
resignation of some of the Tory members of the Government and the
secession of some MR. BROUGHAM AT PANSHANGER. of its Tory supporters. Nothing
can exceed the alarm which they feel at the prospect of the approaching
contest in Parliament, and thus, full of fears and weakness, neither inspiring
nor feeling confidence, there seems a bad chance of their getting through
the session.
I have heard no more of the King and of his intentions, except that he
said he did not see why he was to be the only gentleman in his dominions
who was not to eat his Christmas dinner in quiet, and he was determined he
would. Don Miguel has been with him at the Cottage these two days. He

has been received with great magnificence; they say he behaves well
enough, but is very shy. He went out stag-hunting in red coat and full
hunting costume, and rode over the fences like anybody else.
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 payment 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 departure he never ceased talking. The party was
agreeable enough—Luttrell, Rogers, &c.—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 gaiety and animal spirits, his humour 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 nothing to escape it, I never saw any man
whose conversation impressed 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 Newton, Lord
Chesterfield, and a 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 believe) his conviction that the Queen had never had
any intrigue with Bergami. He told us the whole story of his finding out the
departure of Rastelli, which happened from a friend of his accidentally
seeing Rastelli in the street, recognising him, and telling Brougham.[23]
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
consulted 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 she had to answer the address
of the House of Commons 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.[24] He
spoke very CHARACTER OF MR. BROUGHAM. highly of Alderman Wood, who
behaved very well, never annoyed or interfered with them, and seems to
have been altogether a brave homme.
[23] [For the use made by Mr. Brougham of the accidental departure of Rastelli during the
Queen’s trial vide supra, p. 37, October 15, 1820.]
[24] [This was the address moved by Mr. Wilberforce on the 22nd of June, 1820 (vide supra, p.
30, June 23rd, 1820). Lord Brougham states in his ‘Memoirs’ that the Queen resolved to reject the
advice of Parliament without consulting her lawyers. In one of Lord Brougham’s letters written at the
time he calls Wood ‘the ass and alderman called Thistle-wood,’ and attributed to him the intrigue
which brought the Queen to England.]

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 remember no more.
After all Brougham is only a living and very remarkable instance of
the inefficacy of the most splendid talents, unless they are accompanied
with other qualities, which scarcely admit of definition, but which must
serve the same purpose that ballast does for a ship. Brougham has prospered
to a certain degree; he has a great reputation and he makes a considerable
income at the bar; but as an advocate he is left behind by men of far inferior
capacity, whose names are hardly known beyond the precincts of their
courts or the boundaries of their circuits. As a statesman he is not
considered eligible for the highest offices, and however he may be admired
or feared as an orator or debater, he neither commands respect by his
character nor inspires confidence by his genius, and in this contrast between
his pretensions and his situation more humble abilities may find room for

consolation and cease to contemplate with envy his immense superiority. To
suppose that his ambition can be satisfied in the possession of natural and
acquired powers far greater than the majority of mankind would be contrary
to all experience. Such men consider their acquirements as means for the
attainment of greater ends, and the disappointments which they frequently
meet with in the pursuit of their objects of ambition more than counteract
all the feelings of pride and satisfaction which conscious superiority is
calculated to inspire. The life of a politician is probably one of deep
mortification, for the race is not always to the swift nor the battle to the
strong, and few things can be more galling than to see men far inferior to
ourselves enabled by fortune and circumstances to attain what we toil after
in vain, and to learn from our own experience how many things there are in
this life of greater practical utility than splendid abilities and unwearied
industry.

London, January 19th, 1828
The Ministry is at last settled, and now for its history. Early in last
week Goderich went down to the King and told him there was such a
quarrel in the Cabinet between Huskisson and Herries about the Finance
Committee that both could not remain, and that Huskisson would resign if
he had not his own way. The King was furious at this new disturbance, and
said he could not understand it; if Huskisson resigned, the Government was
at an end. ‘Go,’ he ended, ‘and send the Chancellor to me.’ The Chancellor
[Lord Lyndhurst] went, and was desired to bring the Duke of Wellington.
The Government was dissolved and the King desired the Duke to form a
new one. All this was immediately known, and first it was asked, ‘What is
the quarrel between Huskisson and Herries which broke up the old
Cabinet?’ The friends of each put about a story, one of which appeared in
the ‘Times,’ the other in the ‘Morning Chronicle.’ The question was Lord
Althorp’s appointment as chairman of the Finance Committee. Huskisson’s
story is this:—In November Tierney went to Goderich and proposed
Althorp as a good man to be in the chair of that Committee. Goderich
assented, and said, ‘But you had better speak to Huskisson about it, as it is a
House of Commons matter.’ He did so, and Huskisson approved of it. A few
days after Tierney called on Huskisson and found Herries with him, when

they discussed the matter generally, as well as the particular appointment of
Althorp, and Herries made no objection, and, as they thought, agreed with
them; but shortly after Herries went to Goderich, complained that this
matter had been settled without his knowledge and concurrence, that it was
a slight put upon him, and said he would not agree to Althorp’s nomination,
nor stay in office if it were persisted in.
This is one story, told me by Sefton, who had it (I am sure) from
Brougham, and verbatim the same by Robarts, who had it (he told me
himself) from Tierney. Herries’ HOSTILITY OF HERRIES. story only differs in this:
it omits the interview between the three Ministers, and declares the matter
was never mentioned to him at all till they had decided on it, when it was
shown him as a plan which was not to be discussed, but which he was at
once to assent to. It appears difficult to know which to believe, and at first
my impression was that they had probably not treated Herries with as much
consideration as he was entitled to as Finance Minister, and that he had
been prone to take offence and touchy from old recollections, which were
probably not effaced. But a circumstance I heard afterwards convinced me
that Herries has been all along full of ill-will towards his colleagues, and
not a little desirous of breaking up the Ministry. When he found, too, with
what difficulties they would have to contend in Parliament and the
weakness of Goderich, he probably thought they would never be able to go
on, and was not sorry to find an opportunity of accelerating their
dissolution. The circumstance is this:—In the old business of his
appointment to the Chancellorship of the Exchequer, when he thought he
was not to be appointed, he wrote to Arbuthnot telling him how ill he had
been treated, and promising to send him all the correspondence on the
subject. Subsequently he was appointed, when he wrote again to A., saying
that as it was settled and he was appointed, he did not think it would be
right to send him the correspondence, which he was sure he would
understand; that there he was, and he should do his best to act cordially with
his new colleagues; but he finished, ‘I shall hail the day which brings all of
you back again.’ Such an expression to a man who was the bitterest enemy
of the Government of which he was a member did not evince much
cordiality towards his colleagues.
The first thing to be done by the Duke was to negotiate with
Huskisson. He sent forthwith for his own friends, Peel, Lord Bathurst, and

Melville, and for many days the great question was whether Huskisson
would join or not, the Whigs of course most anxious he should refuse, the
new Government ready to make great concessions to tempt him to join
them. He has acceded, however, but much to the disgust of many of his
friends, some of whom think he has behaved shabbily in abandoning the
Whigs, who supported him, and who had supported Canning at his utmost
need. Some think he was pledged never to act with the men who they
consider to have behaved so ill to Canning, and some think he has
compromised his dignity and independence by not insisting on higher
terms, particularly the lead in the House of Commons. At present the exact
terms of his bargain are not known, and without being acquainted with all
that has passed de part et d’autre it is impossible to form a judgment as to
the wisdom or the fairness of his conduct. Those who think he would have
acted a wiser part and have made himself of greater importance by heading
a third party in the House of Commons and keeping aloof, judge too hastily.
He would have been followed by all those who call themselves Canning’s
personal friends, and probably by a considerable body of neutrals, who
would not have been disposed to support a Tory Government, and still less
to join a Whig Opposition. But however weak the Ministry (without
Huskisson) might have appeared at first sight in the House of Commons, it
would very possibly have proved stronger than was imagined. Strength and
weakness are relative terms, and it remained to be seen what sort of power
would have been brought against it, and to what attacks the Government
would have exposed itself. The old Tory Ministry, which was voted out for
incapacity by the House of Commons, was the strongest and longest that we
have seen for many years, though opposed by all the talent and power of an
Opposition more formidable than this can be. To be sure it must always be
remembered that they floated through their difficulties on the tide of the
Duke of Wellington’s victories. Of all the party who would have ranged
themselves under Huskisson, only Canning’s friends, a select few, would
have considered themselves bound to him, and the rest, if they found the
Government strong and likely to last, would probably have dropped off and
gradually joined it. In that case Huskisson would never have been MR.
HUSKISSON’S POSITION. able to treat as an independent power, and though they
might have been glad to take him into the Administration, he could not have
made his own terms. I do not think he ever could have looked to
overturning the Tory Government and coming in with the whole body of the

Whigs, for he has no natural partiality (any more than Canning had) for that
party, and he is fully aware how odious they are to the King and how
unpopular in the country, which is always more inclined to the Tories than
to them. If the Tories have agreed to those measures (except the Catholic
question, for that is to remain on its old footing) which he deems necessary,
and of which he is the author—that is, of Free Trade, &c.—he would
probably rather act with them than with the Whigs; and in joining
Government he is liable to no reproach but that of having shaken off his
Whig colleagues too easily. But it remains to be proved whether they could
have gone on, and at all events Lords Lansdowne and Carlisle might have
remained in office if they pleased, though certainly it was not probable that
they would do so. The part of the transaction which will appear
extraordinary is, that the Government having been broken up by a quarrel
between Huskisson and Herries, the opposite party come in and both these
Ministers remain with them. In private life the transaction would look very
like a fraud, and be open to great suspicion. It would appear as if they had
got up a sham quarrel in order to get out their colleagues and stay in
themselves with the Tories. This, however, I believe not to have been the
case, at least as far as Huskisson is concerned, though perhaps Herries may
not be altogether so clear.

CHAPTER IV.
The Duke of Wellington’s Administration — Huskisson’s
Speech — Irritation of Mr. Canning’s Friends — Tom
Duncombe’s Maiden Speech — Mr. Huskisson resigns and the
Canningites quit the Government — Princess Lieven Hostile to
the Duke — The Catholic Question — Jockey Club Dinner at
St. James’s — Lord Lyndhurst — Sir Robert Adair — Fox and
Burke — Fox and Pitt — The Lord High Admiral dismissed by
the King — Dawson’s Speech on Catholic Emancipation — The
King’s Health — His Pages — State of Ireland — Marquis of
Anglesey — O’Connell — His Influence in Ireland — Lord
Belmore Governor of Jamaica — The Duke’s Letter to Dr.
Curtis — Recall of Lord Anglesey from Ireland — Causes of
this Event — Excitement of the King on the Catholic Question
— His Aversion to Sir William Knighton — Character of
George IV. — Denman’s Silk Gown — Pension to Lady
Westmeath — Duke of Wellington on Russia — The Reis-
Effendi — Duke of Northumberland goes to Ireland — Privy
Council Register — State Paper Office — The Gunpowder Plot
— Catholic Emancipation — Navarino.

January 28th, 1828
Until the Duke of Wellington’s commission as First Lord of the
Treasury appeared many people doubted that he would take the office.[1]
The Ordnance was offered to IRRITATION OF THE WHIGS. Lord Rosslyn, who
refused it, and then given to Lord Beresford, but without a seat in the
Cabinet (as Lord Bathurst told me) by his own particular desire. Some days
have now elapsed, and time has been afforded for the expression of popular
feeling and opinion on the late changes. Lady Canning and many of

Canning’s friends are very much dissatisfied with Huskisson, and think he
deserted his principles and outraged the memory of Canning. Lady C.
particularly is much hurt at what has passed. She has not seen Huskisson,
but he is aware of her sentiments, though he says she has so high an opinion
of him that she is sure he is acting for what he believes to be the best. The
majority of Canning’s friends have adhered to the Government. The great
body of the Whigs who belonged to or supported the late Government are
indignant and violent, particularly with Huskisson, who they think has
betrayed them. An interview has taken place between Huskisson and Lord
Lansdowne, in which the former explained his conduct, and (as far as I can
learn) the latter said but little, neither condemning nor approving. But the
great body of the party are resolved to oppose the new Government in every
way, though without attempting to form a party, which they do not think
feasible in their present condition. They intend a desultory and harassing
warfare, particularly attacking Huskisson upon Liberal measures, to which
he stands pledged, but which they think he will now be prevented by his
colleagues from carrying into effect. The seceding Whigs are triumphant,
because they assert that what has happened is a full justification of their
conduct. They forget, however, that all this is mainly attributable to them
and to Canning’s death, which occurred in the interim. On the other hand
the old Tories are not altogether satisfied, and, though rejoiced at the
restoration of the party, cannot bear to see Huskisson and his friends
members of the Government from abhorrence of Canning and all Liberal
principles. However, the principal men have sent in their adhesions in very
civil letters to the Duke.
[1] [The Duke of Wellington’s Administration was at first constituted as follows:—
Duke of Wellington, First Lord of the Treasury.
Lord Lyndhurst, Lord Chancellor.
Earl Bathurst, Lord President of the Council.
Earl of Ellenborough, Lord Privy Seal.
Mr. Peel, Home Secretary.
Lord Dudley, Foreign Secretary.
Mr. Huskisson, Colonial Secretary.
Earl of Aberdeen, Duchy of Lancaster.
Mr. Goulburn, Chancellor of the Exchequer.
Mr. Charles Grant, President of the Board of Trade.
Mr. Herries, Master of the Mint.
Viscount Melville, President of the India Board.
Lord Dudley, Mr. Huskisson, Mr. Grant, and Lord Palmerston (Secretary at War, not in the
Cabinet) were the four Canningite members who resigned in May following. They were replaced by
Lord Aberdeen, Sir George Murray, Mr. Vesey Fitzgerald, and Sir Henry Hardinge respectively.]

All the Ministers (old and new) were at Windsor the other day; but it
was contrived that they should not meet, the ins being in one room and
Lansdowne and Carlisle in another, and it was afterwards discovered that in
a third room by himself was Goderich. This Lord Sefton told me, and he
had it from Lord Lansdowne, who had it from the King and confirmed by
Lord Conyngham. His Majesty was remarkably civil to Lords Lansdowne
and Carlisle. The King had a scene with the Duke of Devonshire, whom he
could not persuade to stay in his place, though he tried hard. Scarlett has
resigned the Attorney-Generalship, but not very willingly. He wrote to
Milton and asked his advice. Milton advised him to resign, and so he did.
One thing that has angered the Tories is the Duke’s not having consulted
Lord Eldon, nor offered him any place; and it seems he is extremely
mortified, for though he did not want the seals again, he would have been
very glad to take office as President of the Council.

February 25th, 1828
There is one advantage in writing at intervals of some time instead of
keeping a regular diary; I can take a more bird’s-eye view of events, and
avoid falling into many errors, which it would be afterwards necessary to
correct. I went to Newmarket and stayed there three weeks for my health.
While I was there Huskisson made his speech at Liverpool.[2] The Tories
were furious, and in the IRRITATION OF THE WHIGS. House of Lords the Duke of
Wellington contradicted it, or rather said he did not believe it was faithfully
reported, for all that he was reported to have said about the guarantee was
untrue. I returned to town in time for the House of Commons, and found the
greatest excitement, curiosity, and violence generally prevailing. As to
Huskisson, he had offended the Tories, the Whigs, and Lady Canning, and
everybody condemned him. Parties were split to pieces, there was no
Opposition, and no man could tell what were the politics of his neighbour,
scarcely what his own. Lady Canning was in a state of great rage and
resentment, and had inspired George Bentinck with the same sentiments.
Clanricarde had been sent down by her to the House of Lords furnished
with extracts of Canning’s letters to throw in the teeth of his old friends and
his old enemies, and she threatened fresh disclosures and fresh documents
which were to confound all whom she deemed worthy of her indignation. A

very angry colloquy took place at a dinner at Warrender’s between Lord
Seaford and George Bentinck, in which the latter violently attacked Mr.
Canning’s friends for joining the present Government, and quoted
Huskisson’s declaration that he would never act with the men who had
abandoned him. Lord Seaford grew angry, and asked George what he knew
of that declaration and what his authority was for quoting it. To which
George replied that he had it from himself—from Lord Seaford at Paris.
This confounded the noble Lord, and altogether there was a pretty violent
altercation, which greatly annoyed both him and Howard, who was present,
and was regretted by all their common friends. Two days after this came on
the debate in the House of Commons and the explanations of Huskisson and
Herries. Their speeches were both satisfactory enough till Tierney spoke,
who entirely knocked over their cases, or at least that of Herries, for against
Huskisson he proved nothing, except that he might perhaps have been more
communicative, though I think this reproach applies more to Lord Goderich
than to him. The impression left with regard to Herries was as unfavourable
as possible.
[2] [The speech made by Mr. Huskisson on his re-election at Liverpool on the 5th of February,
1828, is printed in vol. iii. of his ‘Collected Speeches,’ p. 673. It contains a full account of these
transactions. The passage which gave so much offence to the Tories was that ‘if the Government was
such as satisfied the view I took of the interests of the country, and provided such arrangements were
made in its construction as afforded a guarantee that the principle I approved should not be departed
from, I was not precluded from joining it;’ and again, ‘The presence in office of such men as Lord
Dudley, Lord Palmerston, Mr. Grant, and Mr. Lamb is the most satisfactory of all guarantees that the
general principles of our foreign and commercial system would remain unchanged, and that Ireland
would be governed with the strictest impartiality in respect to the Catholic question.’
These declarations of Mr. Huskisson had a material effect on the occurrences which not long
afterwards took place.]

The great event of the night was Duncombe’s[3] speech, which was
delivered with perfect self-possession and composure, but in so ridiculous a
manner that everybody laughed at him, although they were amused with his
impudence and at the style and objects of his attack. However, the next day
it was discovered that he had performed a great exploit; he was loudly
applauded and congratulated on all sides, and made into the hero of the day.
His fame was infinitely increased on a subsequent night, when Herries
again came before the House and when Tommy fired another shot at him.
The newspapers were full of his praises. The Whigs called at his door and
eagerly sought his acquaintance. Those who love fun and personality

cheered him on with loud applause, and he now fancies himself the greatest
man going, and is ready to get up and abuse anybody on the Treasury
bench. To me, who knew all the secret strings that moved this puppet,
nothing can be more amusing.
[3] [Thomas Slingsby Duncombe, nephew of the first Lord Feversham distinguished for his
Radical opinions, M.P. for Finsbury after the Reform Bill. He sat at this time for Hertford; and the
incident related in the text appears to have been his début in political life.]

The history of Tom Duncombe and his speech is instructive as well as
amusing, for it is a curious proof of the facility with which the world may
be deceived, and of the prodigious effect which may be produced by the
smallest means, if they are aided by some fortuitous circumstances and
happily applied. Tommy came to Henry de Ros and told him that his
constituents at Hertford were very anxious he should make a speech, but
that he did not know what to say, and begged Henry to supply him with the
necessary materials. He advised him to strike out something new, and
having received his assurance that he should be able to recollect anything
that he learned by heart, and that he was not afraid of his courage failing,
Henry composed for him the speech which Duncombe delivered. But
knowing the slender capacity of his man, he was not satisfied with placing
the speech in his hands, but adopted every precaution which his ingenuity
suggested to avert the danger of his breaking TOM DUNCOMBE’S MAIDEN SPEECH.
down. He made him learn the speech by heart, and then made him think it
over again and put it into language of his own, justly fearing that if he
should forget any of the more polished periods of the original it would
appear sadly botched by his own interpolations. He then instructed him
largely as to how and when he was to bring it in, supplying him with
various commonplace phrases to be used as connecting links, and by the
help of which he might be enabled to fasten upon some of the preceding
speeches. I saw Henry de Ros the day before the debate, when he told me
what he was doing, and asked me to suggest anything that occurred upon
the subject, and at the same time repeated to me the speech with which he
had armed his hero. I hinted my apprehensions that he would fail in the
delivery, but though he was not without some alarm, he expressed (as it
afterwards appeared a well-grounded) confidence in Duncombe’s
extraordinary nerve and intrepidity.

His speech on the second night was got up precisely in the same
manner, and although it appeared to arise out of the debate and of those
which preceded it, the matter had been all crammed into him by his
invisible Mentor. The amusement to him and to me (especially at the
honours that have been thickly poured upon him and the noise which he has
made in the world) is indescribably pungent.
Thus Duncombe and his speech have made what is called a great
sensation, and he has the reputation (no matter whether justly or not) of
having thrown the enemy’s camp into greater confusion by the boldness of
his language than anybody has ever done, because nobody has ever before
dared to mention those whom he dragged forward. To the ignorant majority
of the world he appears a man of great promise, of boldness, quickness, and
decision, and the uproar that is made about him cannot fail to impress
others as well as himself with a high notion of his consequence.
Knighton is gone abroad, I have very little doubt, in consequence of
what passed, and as nobody enquires very minutely into the real causes of
things where they get apparent ones with ease, it is said and believed at
once that Duncombe is the man who has driven him out, and that he has
given the first blow to that secret influence which has only been obscurely
hinted at before and never openly attacked. These are great and important
matters, far exceeding any consequences which the authors of the speech
anticipated from its delivery at the time. And what are the agents who have
produced such an effect? A man of ruined fortune and doubtful character,
whose life has been spent on the race-course, at the gaming-table, and in the
green-room, of limited capacity, exceedingly ignorant, and without any
stock but his impudence to trade on, only speaking to serve an
electioneering purpose, and crammed by another man with every thought
and every word that he uttered.

June 12th, 1828
We have now got a Tory Government, and all that remained of
Canning’s party are gone.[4] The case of the Duke of Wellington and
Huskisson is before the world, but nobody judges fairly. Motives are
attributed to both parties which had no existence, and the truth is hardly

ever told at first, though it generally oozes out by degrees. After the
explanations in February the Government went on to all appearance very
well, but there lurked under this semblance of harmony some seeds of
jealousy and distrust, not I believe so much in the mind of the Duke as in
those of his Tory colleagues, and the Canningites on their side certainly felt
no cordiality even towards the Duke himself. They said that he never could
nor would understand anything; that he said a thing one day and forgot it
the next, DISPUTES IN THE CABINET. and instead of that clearness of intellect for
which he had credit, nothing could be more puzzled and confused than he
was; that nothing could absolve him from the suspicion of duplicity and
insincerity but the conviction that his ambiguous conduct on various
occasions arose from a confusion of ideas. On the other hand, Lord Bathurst
told my father that he thought they (Huskisson and his friends) were too
much disposed to act together as a party in the Cabinet; and it is clear that
the Duke thought so too, and that this feeling and the resentment it
engendered in his mind are the real reasons of his conduct on the late
occasion.
[4] [Bills had been brought into Parliament for the disfranchisement of the boroughs of Penryn
and East Retford, and the transfer of those seats to Manchester and Birmingham. On the East Retford
case, which came before the House of Commons on the 19th of May, Mr. Huskisson felt bound in
honour to support the measure, and voted against his colleagues. On his return home after the debate
he wrote a hasty letter to the Duke of Wellington, in which he said that he ‘owed it to the Duke and to
Mr. Peel to lose no time in affording them an opportunity of placing his office in other hands.’ The
Duke regarding this as a formal act of resignation, laid it before the King and filled up the
appointment. The correspondence is published in the Duke of Wellington’s ‘Correspondence,’ New
Series, vol. iv. p. 449. The resignation of Lord Palmerston, Charles Grant, and Lord Dudley followed.
The details of this transaction are sufficiently alluded to in the text.]

There had been a dispute in the Cabinet about the Corn Bill, which
occasioned the discussion of it to be put off for a few days at the time, and
upon that occasion Grant resigned his office. The matter was made up and
he stayed. But when upon the East Retford affair Huskisson resigned, and in
such an extraordinary manner, the Duke felt that there was a disposition to
embarrass him by these perpetual tenders of resignation, which he believed
they thought he would not venture to accept. Upon receiving Huskisson’s
letter he went to Lord Bathurst and consulted him, and Lord Bathurst
advised him to take him at his word. Everybody looks for some cause
which does not appear for important events, and people with difficulty
admit of very simple solutions and very trifling causes, though such are not

unfrequently the real ones. I believe that Huskisson had no intention of
embarrassing the Duke and none of resigning; but for a cool and sensible
man his conduct is most extraordinary, for he acted with the precipitation of
a schoolboy and showed a complete want of all those qualities of prudence
and calm deliberation for which he has the greatest credit. But though this
breach might have been avoided, from the sentiments which have been
expressed by both parties, it is evident other differences would have arisen
which must have dissolved the Government before long. After putting aside
the violent opinions on both sides, the conclusion is that Huskisson acted
very hastily and imprudently, and that his letter (say what he will) was a
complete resignation, and that the Duke had a right so to consider it; that in
the Duke’s conduct there appeared a want of courtesy and an anxiety to get
rid of him which it would have been more fair to avow and defend than to
deny; that on both sides there was a mixture of obstinacy and angry feeling,
and a disposition to treat the question rather as a personal matter than one in
which the public interests were deeply concerned. But the charge which is
made on one side that Huskisson wanted to embarrass the Duke’s
Government and enhance his own importance, and that on the other of the
Duke’s insincerity, are both unfounded.
Some circumstances, however, contributed to place the Duke’s conduct
in an unfavourable point of view. These were the extravagant and
unconcealed joy of the High Tories and of his immediate friends, and his
attending at the same time the Pitt dinner and sitting there while Lord Eldon
gave his famous ‘one cheer more’ for Protestant ascendency. That he treated
Huskisson with some degree of harshness there is no doubt, but he was
angry, and not without reason; the former brought it all upon himself.
During the debate upon East Retford, when Huskisson was called upon by
Sandon to redeem his pledge, he told Peel that he could not help himself,
and must vote against him; but he begged him to put off the question till the
following week, that it might be considered again. This Peel refused; had he
acceded, all this would not have taken place.
When the King saw Huskisson he was extremely gracious to him,
expressed the utmost regret at losing him, and said that he had wished not to
see him at first, that he might avoid receiving his resignation, and in hopes
that the matter would have been arranged.[5] However, the other party say
that the King is very glad to have got rid of him and his party.

[5] [Huskisson solicited an audience, which his Majesty refused for some days to grant: he
would not see him until he had written again to the Duke of Wellington.]

In the middle of all this Madame de Lieven is supposed to have acted
with great impertinence if not imprudence, THE CATHOLIC QUESTION. and to have
made use of the access she has to the King to say all sorts of things against
the Duke and the present Government. Her dislike to the Duke has been
increasing ever since that cessation of intimacy which was caused by
Canning’s accession to power, when she treated him very uncivilly in order
to pay court to Canning. Esterhazy told me last night that although her
position here was now greatly changed, and that it was far from being so
agreeable as it was, he could not accuse her of imprudence in having taken
the part she had done, because he thought that it had answered very well,
and that the objects of her Court had been in great measure accomplished
through her means.

June 18th, 1828
The Duke of Wellington’s speech on the Catholic question is
considered by many to have been so moderate as to indicate a disposition
on his part to concede emancipation, and bets have been laid that Catholics
will sit in Parliament next year. Many men are resolved to see it in this light
who are anxious to join his Government, and whose scruples with regard to
that question are removed by such an interpretation of his speech. I do not
believe he means to do anything until he is compelled to it, which if he
remains in office he will be; for the success of the Catholic question
depends neither on Whigs nor Tories, the former of whom have not the
power and the latter not the inclination to carry it. The march of time and
the state of Ireland will effect it in spite of everything, and its slow but
continual advance can neither be retarded by its enemies nor accelerated by
its friends. In the meantime men affect to consider his expressions as of
importance enough to influence their conduct in taking or refusing office.
Frankland Lewis,[6] who refused the Irish Secretaryship, said that after that
speech he regretted his refusal and would be glad to take it, and now he
wants to join the Government again. Certainly at this moment the Tories are
triumphant, and so far from the Duke’s Government having any difficulty in
standing, there does not appear to be a disposition in any quarter to oppose

it. Not only in Parliament there is no Opposition, but the press is veering
round and treating him with great civility. The Government seem well
disposed to follow up the Liberal policy, to which they have been suspected
of being adverse, and have already declared that they do not intend to
deviate either in their foreign or domestic policy from the principles on
which the Government was understood to act previous to the separation.
Arbuthnot told my father yesterday that they all regret now having resigned
in 1827, and Huskisson owned to A. that he had acted with unfortunate
precipitancy.
[6] [Right Hon. T. Frankland Lewis, a member of the Grenville and Canning section of the Tory
party; made a baronet by Sir Robert Peel; the father of the Right Hon. Sir George Cornewall Lewis.]

June 29th, 1828
I dined yesterday with the King at St. James’s—his Jockey Club
dinner. There were about thirty 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 assembled 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
recommending 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, &c., 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, LORD LYNDHURST AND THE GREAT SEAL. 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. Nothing could go off better, and Mount Charles told me he
was sure he was delighted.
I dined with the Chancellor [Lord Lyndhurst] three days ago; he talked
to me a great deal about his acceptance of the Great Seal and of the
speculation it was. He was Master of the Rolls with 7,000ℓ. a year for life
when it was offered to him; he debated whether it was worth while to give
this up to be Chancellor for perhaps only one year, with a peerage and the
pension. He talked the matter over with his wife, and they agreed that if it
only lasted one year (which he evidently thought probable) it was worth
while, besides the contingency of a long Chancellorship. He asked me if the
Government was popular and reckoned strong. I told him it was apparently
popular and reckoned strong, because there was no Opposition and little
chance of any. I said that however hazardous his speculation might have
been, it had turned out well, for he had a good chance of being Chancellor
as long as his predecessor had been, there being so few candidates for the
office. He said this was true, and then he talked of his Court, and said it was
impossible for one man to do the business of it. In talking of the speculation
he had made, political opinions and political consistency seemed never to
occur to him, and he considered the whole matter in a light so business-like
and professional as to be quite amusing. He talked of the Duke, said he was
a good man to do business with, quick and intelligent, and ‘how well he
managed that little correspondence with Huskisson,’ which was droll
enough, for Huskisson dined there and was in the room.

August 6th, 1828
About three weeks ago I went to Windsor to a Council. The King had
been very ill for a day or two, but was recovered. Rob Adair[7] was sworn in
Privy Councillor, and he remained in the room and heard the speech, which

he ought not to have done. The Duke attacked me afterwards (in joke) for
letting him stay; but I told him it was no business of mine, and his
neighbour ought to have told him to go. That neighbour, 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 agreeable of them all, but Hare the most brilliant. Burke’s
conversation 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.
[7] [Right Hon. Sir Robert Adair, the friend of Fox, formerly ambassador at Constantinople and
Vienna. It was he whom Canning once called ‘Bobadare-a-dool-fowla.’]

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 yielding 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 persuaded him to reject the overtures. That son Adair SIR ROBERT
ADAIR’S ANECDOTES. 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 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.
Adair told me that Lord Holland has written very copious memoirs of
his own time, and particularly characters of all the eminent men who have
died, in the delineation of which he excels. Soon after Pitt’s resignation in

1801 there was an attempt made to effect a junction between Pitt and Fox,
to which they were neither of them averse. The negotiation was, however,
entrusted to subordinate agents, and Adair said that he had always regretted
that they had not met, for if they had he thought the matter would have been
arranged. As it was the design was thwarted by the King through the
intervention (I think he said) of Lord Loughborough.
There was another Council about a week ago. On these occasions the
King always whispers to me something or other about his racehorses or
something about myself, and I am at this moment in high favour. We had
Howley and Bloomfield[8] at this Council, with the latter of whom I made
acquaintance, to the great amusement of the Duke. He laughed at seeing me
conversing with this bishop.
[8] [The Archbishop of Canterbury and the Bishop of London.]

I hear from Frederick Lamb that the Duke is greatly alarmed about
Ireland. By-the-by he, Frederick,[9] is come back from Portugal, thinking
that our Government have acted very ill and very foolishly, first
encouraging and then abandoning these wretched Constitutionalists to their
fate, and he is no particular friend to Liberalism.
[9] [Sir Frederick Lamb, afterwards created Lord Beauvale, and who became Lord Melbourne
on the death of his brother William.]

August 14th, 1828
Just returned from Goodwood, where I went on the 11th, and heard on
arriving that the Lord High Admiral had resigned, but no particulars. It is a
very good thing at all events.

August 16th, 1828
The Lord High Admiral was turned out.[10] The Duke told him that he
must go, but that he might resign as if of his own accord. The Duke is all-
powerful. It is strongly reported that Peel will resign, that the Duke means
to concede the Catholic question and to negotiate a concordat with the

Pope. Many people think Lord Grey will join the Government, and that he
will be First Lord of the Admiralty. The Duke gave his brother Dr.
Bloomfield’s living without any solicitation. Esterhazy told me to-night that
Palmella entertains from twenty to thirty of his countrymen at dinner every
day, of whom there are several hundred in London, of the best families,
totally destitute. All Palmella’s property is sequestrated, but he receives the
appointment of Portuguese Minister from the Brazilian Government.
[10] [The King’s letter dismissing the Duke of Clarence from the office of Lord High Admiral
was dated the 11th of August, 1828. It is published in the Duke of Wellington’s ‘Correspondence,’
New Series, vol. iv. p. 595.]

August 22nd, 1828
Went to Stoke on the 19th and came back yesterday. There were the
Dowager Lady Salisbury, Duchess of Newcastle, Worcester and Lady W.
Russell, Giles, Billy Churchill. On the 18th Dawson’s speech[11] at Derry
reached us, and I never remember any occurrence which excited greater
surprise. The general impression was that he made the speech, with the
Duke’s knowledge and concurrence, which I never believed. I thought from
what he said to me just before he went to Ireland that he had changed his
own opinion, and now many people say they knew this; but I was little
prepared to hear of his making DAWSON’S SPEECH AT DERRY. such a speech at such
a place as Derry, and on such an occasion as a ‘Prentice Boy’
commemoration. The rage and fury of the Orangemen there and of the
Orange press here are boundless, and the violence and scurrility of their
abuse are the more absurd because Dawson only described in glowing
colours, and certainly without reserve, the actual state of Ireland, but did not
argue the question at all further than leaving on his hearers the inevitable
inference that he thought the time for granting emancipation was come. The
truth is that the conversion of one of the most violent anti-Catholics must
strike everybody as a strong argument in favour of the measure, and they
know not by how many and by whom his example may be followed. The
Orangemen are moving heaven and earth to create disturbances, and their
impotent fury shows how low their cause is sunk. The Catholics, on the
contrary, are temperate and calm, from confidence in their strength and the
progressive advance of their course. But although I think the Catholics are

now in a position which renders their ultimate success certain, I am very far
from participating in the sanguine expectations of those who think the Duke
of Wellington is convinced that the question must be settled directly, and
that he will carry it through in the ensuing session. In the first place I see
clearly that the Government are extremely annoyed at Dawson’s speech. I
saw Goulburn to-day, and though he did not say much, what he did say was
enough to satisfy me of this: ‘he hoped that it had been incorrectly
reported.’ Dawson has written to the Duke,[12] and the letter was sent to him
to-day. But what has put me in despair about it is a letter of the Duke’s
which Drummond read to me to-day addressed, I do not know to whom, but
upon that subject. It began, ‘My dear sir,’ and after other matter proceeded
nearly as follows:—‘This subject has been more discussed and more
pamphlets have been written upon it in the course of the last twenty-five
years than any other that I can remember. No two people are agreed upon
what ought to be done, and yet the Government is expected at once to settle
the question.’ This is the old argument, as if after thirty years’ discussion in
every shape it was not time to settle the question. As if those who undertake
to govern the country were not the men who are bound to find the means of
settling it and allaying the irritation it causes. And as if, instead of no two
persons being agreed upon the subject, all the ablest and wisest men in the
country were not cordially agreed that complete emancipation is the only
remedy for the evils that exist, and that they are opposed by the most
despicable faction which ever existed, animated by the most base and
sordid motives. This letter was read to me as conveying the Duke’s
opinions, which his secretary thought were very sound and sensible, and
which I think evinced a degree of anility quite pitiable, and proves how
little there is to expect from any liberality and good sense on his part.
[11] [Mr. Peel’s confidential letter to the Duke of Wellington, stating his reluctant conviction
that it was indispensably necessary for the Government to change its policy on the Catholic question,
was written on the 11th of August, 1828. The letter is published in Sir Robert Peel’s ‘Posthumous
Memoirs,’ vol. i, p. 189. It is a remarkable circumstance that Mr. Dawson’s speech at Derry was
made just one week afterwards; but there is no evidence that he knew of the change in his brother-in-
law’s opinion. See for further details as to the effect of Dawson’s speech infra.]
[12] [This letter is published in the Duke of Wellington’s ‘Correspondence,’ New Series, vol. iv.
p. 633. The Duke said, ‘Dawson’s speech is too bad. Surely a man who does such things ought to be
put in a strait waistcoat.’ Ibid. p. 636.]

I do not yet know the whole truth of the Lord High Admiral’s
resignation, but it seems that it is not yet certain. Negotiations on the

subject are still going on. I believe he quarrelled with his council,
particularly Cockburn, and that Government took part with Cockburn. The
Duke of Clarence wants to promote deserving officers, but they oppose it
on account of the expense, and they find in everything great difficulty in
keeping him in order. His resignation will be very unpopular in the navy, for
his system of promotion was more liberal and impartial than that of his
predecessor, whose administration was one perpetual job, and who made
the patronage of the Admiralty instrumental to governing Scotland. Hitherto
the appointments of Government have not been the most judicious—Lord
Belmore to Jamaica, because he is a Lord, and a very dull one; Lord
Strangford to the Brazils, though the Duke knows as well as anybody that
he cannot be trusted, and was recalled by Canning because he said and did
all sorts of things at Constantinople for which he had no authority, and they
found that no reliance whatever DISMISSAL OF THE LORD HIGH ADMIRAL. was to be
placed in him. Lord Stuart de Rothesay, too, is sent back to Paris, though
personally obnoxious to the King and universally disliked.

Stoke, August 25th, 1828
Went to Windsor to-day for a Council and came on here after it. There
were the Chancellor, Peel, Fitzgerald, Ellenborough, Sir G. Murray, the
Archbishop, and Bishop of London, who came to do homage. The King
gave the Chancellor a long audience, and another to Peel, probably to talk
over Dawson’s speech and Orange politics. After the Council the King
called me and talked to me about racehorses, which he cares more about
than the welfare of Ireland or the peace of Europe. We walked over the
Castle, which is nearly finished, but too gaudy. The King told me he would
go to Egham races to-morrow. I talked to Fitzgerald about Dawson’s
speech. He said he believed Dawson had never told the Duke or Peel what
he meant to do, that he thought he was very bold and imprudent. However,
he was glad of it, as it must assist the cause, and the moral effect in Ireland
would be produced before the Duke’s sentiments could be known. Lord
Mount Charles told me the day before yesterday that the reason the Duke of
Clarence had resigned was, that he had in many instances exceeded his
powers, which had produced remonstrances from the Duke of Wellington,
whereupon the Duke of Clarence tendered his resignation, and the Duke

immediately carried it to the King without asking him to stay.[13]
Afterwards there were some negotiations, when the Duke of Clarence
refused to stay if Cockburn did. They would not, however, part with
Cockburn, but subsequently the Duke shook hands with him and asked him
to dine at Bushy on his birthday. He said that his successor was not
appointed, but it will probably be Lord Melville. The King has not been
well; he goes fishing and dining at Virginia Water, stays out late, and
catches cold.
[13] [A letter from the Duke of Wellington to Sir Robert Peel, dated the 13th of August, 1828,
explains the circumstances that led to the removal of the Duke of Clarence from the office of Lord
High Admiral. This letter is published in the first volume of Sir Robert Peel’s ‘Posthumous Memoirs
on the Catholic Question and the Repeal of the Corn Laws,’ p. 269. The Duke of Wellington says,
‘He behaved very rudely to Cockburn. I saw Cockburn and Croker, and both agreed in stating that the
machine could no longer work.’ In a subsequent letter the Duke added, ‘I quite agree with you that it
is very unfortunate the Duke of Clarence has resigned. I did everything in my power to avoid that
result, excepting give up Cockburn.’ The whole correspondence is published in the fourth volume of
the Duke’s ‘Correspondence,’ New Series.]

August 29th, 1828
Came from Stoke last night. There were the Lievens, Cowper, Lord
Melbourne, Luttrell, Pierre d’Aremberg, Creevy, Russell, Montrond. The
King went to Egham races Tuesday and Thursday, was very well received
and pleased. He was very gracious to me. Madame de Lieven went over to
the Lodge to see Lady Conyngham, who finding she had never seen
Clifden, carried her off there, ordered luncheon and the pony carriage, took
her all over the place, and then carried her back to Salthill, where the King’s
carriage met her and took her back to Virginia Water to dinner. Lieven told
me they had never expected to find this Turkish expedition an easy
business, and had always been prepared for great difficulties, &c., from
which I conclude that they have met with some check. I met Bachelor, the
poor Duke of York’s old servant, and now the King’s valet de chambre, and
he told me some curious things about the interior of the Palace; but he is
coming to call on me, and I will write down what he tells me then. There is
a report that the Admiralty has been offered to Lord Melbourne. I asked him
(at Stoke), and he said he had never heard of it.

London, November 25th, 1828
I have not written anything since I left town, because nothing occurred
worth remembering. Yesterday I went to the Council at Windsor. Most of
the Ministers were there, the Recorder, two foreign Ministers, and the Duke
of Clarence. The King seemed to be very well. The Duke of Wellington did
not arrive till late, and before he was come the King sent for Peel and gave
him an audience of two hours at least. I thought there must be something in
the wind, and was struck with Peel’s taking the Duke into one of the
window recesses and talking to him very earnestly as soon as he came out. I
returned to town after the Council, and in the evening went to the play, and
HEALTH AND HABITS OF GEORGE IV. coming out I met Henry de Ros and Frederick
Lamb. The former made me go with him in his carriage, when he told me
what fully explained the cause of Peel’s long audience—that the Duke has
at last made up his mind to carry the Catholic question, and that Peel[14] and
the rest of the violent anti-Catholics are going out; that the Duke’s present
idea is to apply to Huskisson, but that nothing will be done or said till the
Ministers assemble in town and hold their cabinets.
[14] [It had not then transpired, nor was it known until long afterwards, that the proposal to
carry Catholic Emancipation was made by Mr. Peel to the Duke of Wellington on the 11th of August.
Sir Robert Peel states, however, in his ‘Memoir,’ p. 269, ‘At the close of the year 1828 little, if any,
progress had been made in removing the difficulties with which the Duke of Wellington had to
contend;’ and, p. 274, ‘The chief difficulty was the King. At the commencement of the month of
January 1829 his Majesty had not yet signified his consent that the whole subject of Ireland,
including the Catholic question, should be taken into consideration by his confidential servants.’]

He told me also that the French Government have at last agreed to
make common cause with us in preventing the Russians from prosecuting
the war against Turkey.

December 16th, 1828
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 Bachelor 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. Bachelor
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 favour, 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 favour 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, Bachelor 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 chambre. 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 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 anything.

December 20th, 1828
Hyde Villiers called on me ten days ago to give me an account of his
visit to Ireland. He seems to have been intimate with several of the leading
men, particularly Shiel, whom all agree in describing as the cleverest man
of his party. He also saw a good deal of the Lord-Lieutenant;[15] and was
struck by his imprudence and unreserve. He spoke very positively of his
determination not to be a party to any measures contrary to his opinions,
and did not scruple to complain of the little information he received from
the Government here concerning their intentions. He also appears to have
been flattered by O’Connell into entire confidence in him, and told Villiers
that he would trust him implicitly. O’Connell and Shiel detest each other,

though Shiel does not oppose him. Lawless detests him too, and he does
everything he can to thwart and provoke him, and opposes him in the
Association[16] upon all occasions. Lately in the affair of the ‘exclusive
dealing’ he CHARACTER OF O’CONNELL. met with such opposition in the
Association that it required a great deal of time and management to get rid
of that proposition, although in the end he carried the matter very
triumphantly. But O’Connell, though opposed by a numerous party in the
Association, is all-powerful in the country, and there is not one individual
who has a chance of supplanting him in the affections of the great mass of
the Catholics. For twenty-five years he has been continually labouring to
obtain that authority and consideration which he possesses without a rival,
and is now so great that they yield unlimited obedience to his individual
will. As an orator he would probably fail in the English House of
Commons; but to a mob, especially an Irish mob, he is perfect, exactly the
style and manner which suits their tastes and comprehensions, and
consequently his success with them is unbounded. He has a large landed
property, is at the head of his profession, an admirable lawyer and manager
of a cause, and never for a moment diverted by political or other
considerations from the due discharge of his professional duties. He is
besides a man of high moral character and great probity in private life, and
has been for years in the habit of affording his professional assistance gratis
to those of his own religion who cannot afford to pay for it. These are some
of the grounds of his popularity, to which may be added his industry and
devotion to the Roman Catholic cause; he rises at three every morning and
goes to bed at eight. He possesses a very retentive memory, and is
particularly strong in historical and constitutional knowledge. The great
object of his ambition is to be at the head of his own profession, and his
favourite project to reform the laws, a task for which he fancies himself
eminently qualified. To accomplish any particular object he cares not to
what charges of partial inconsistency he exposes himself, trusting to his
own ingenuity to exonerate himself from them afterwards. Neither
O’Connell nor Shiel are supposed to be men of courage, but Lawless is, and
he is thought capable of the most desperate adventures. Shiel is of opinion
that the Association might be suppressed by law; O’Connell thinks it could
not, and that if it might legally it could not practically. O’Connell says he
can keep the country quiet another year certainly, Doyle thinks not. Doyle is
a very able man, a man of the world, dislikes O’Connell, but is obliged to

act in concert with him. Doyle, conscious of his own talents, is deeply
mortified that no field is open for their display, and he is one of those men
who must be eminent in whatever cause they are engaged. Murray[17] is a
clever man, but not so ambitious as Doyle; Francis Leveson is extremely
cautious, cold in his manners, and therefore conciliates no general regard in
Ireland, where they like an exactly opposite character. William Lamb was
popular beyond all precedent, but Francis seems to have avoided giving
offence to either party, which is perhaps as much as could have been
expected from him, and in a country where the rival factions are so
exasperated against each other to be able to preserve a character for
impartiality is no small praise. I wrote to my brother Henry what I have
mentioned under the head of November 21st, and in return he told me that it
was in contemplation to put down the Association, and that the law officers
in Ireland had reported that it was practicable, and their opinion had come
over here, but the decision of the Government had not arrived.
[15] [The Marquis of Anglesey was then Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland.]
[16] [The Catholic Association. The ‘exclusive dealing’ was a pledge required of members of
the Association not to deal with Orangemen.]
[17] [Dr. Murray, Roman Catholic Archbishop of Dublin. Lord Francis Leveson (afterwards
Lord Francis Egerton and Earl of Ellesmere), Mr. Greville’s brother-in-law, was then Irish Secretary.
William Lamb, afterwards Lord Melbourne, had preceded him in that office. Henry Greville held a
place at the Vice-Regal Court.]

I very soon saw enough to satisfy me that the Duke is endeavouring to
prevail on Peel to stay in office, and his repeated conferences with the
Bishop of Oxford and other bishops are enough to prove that he is
negotiating with the Church, but nothing transpires of his intentions. Not
one word has been said to Huskisson or any of his friends. My belief is that
in that long conference at Windsor the King tried to prevail on Peel not to
go; since which discussions between Peel, the Duke, and the Bishop have
been going on to see how the matter can be arranged so as to make Peel’s
acquiescence palatable to the Church and the Brunswickers, LORD BELMORE
GOVERNOR OF JAMAICA. and perhaps to engage the Duke to modify his intended

measures accordingly. This is conjecture. The Duke is gone to Wootton and
to Middleton; he is always going about.

December 21st, 1828
A few days ago I saw Lord Belmore just as he was setting out for
Jamaica. I went to talk to him about my plan.[18] He was very civil and said
he would do all that depended upon him. He does not seem to be bright, but
whatever his talents may be, he seems to be left to the free exercise of them,
for he told me that he felt his situation to be one of some difficulty, never
having received any instructions (except of course the formal instructions
given to every governor in writing) as to his conduct from the Secretary of
State, having had no conversation with any of the authorities about the state
of the colony, nor any intimation of their views and intentions in respect to
the principal matters of interest there. He said that as the Assembly of
Jamaica is now sitting, he had proposed to postpone his departure till the
end of their session, when the Bills they passed would come over here, and
he might discuss them with the Government and learn their sentiments and
wishes as to the course he should adopt; a very sensible proposition. But he
received for answer that he had better go now, for that when these Bills
came over here Parliament would be sitting, and Government would not
have leisure to attend to the affairs of Jamaica. And this is the way our
colonies are governed! Stephen,[19] to whom I told this, said he was not
surprised, for that Sir George Murray did nothing—never wrote a despatch
—had only once since he has been in office seen Taylor, who has got all the
West Indies under his care.
[18] [Mr. Greville held the office of Secretary of the Island of Jamaica. The duties of the office
were performed by a deputy paid by the Secretary out of the fees received in the island. He never
visited Jamaica, and the office held on these conditions was a sinecure; but he occasionally took part
in the affairs of Jamaica in this country. The ‘plan’ alluded to in this passage is unknown to me.
Somerset, second Earl of Belmore, had just been appointed Governor of Jamaica at this time.]
[19] [James Stephen, Esq., then law adviser of the Colonial Office, and afterwards Under-
Secretary of State for the Colonies. Mr. Henry Taylor, the accomplished author of ‘Philip von
Artevelde,’ was at the head of the West India department of the office. Sir George Murray was
Secretary of State.]

I might as well have put in on the 25th 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.’

December 30th, 1828
Hyde Villiers brought me on Thursday or Friday last a copy of the
Duke’s letter to Dr. Curtis,[20] which had been sent to him from Dublin
under strict injunction of not showing it. The next day it appeared in all the
newspapers, O’Connell having read it to the Association. It has made a
great noise, and being as usual ambiguous, both parties affect to consider it
to be in their favour. I fancy the Duke is very angry at its publication, at
least judging from what his secretaries say.
[20] [The Duke of Wellington had corresponded with Dr. Curtis, the titular Roman Catholic
Primate of Ireland, for many years. Indeed, as appears in the text, he had known him long before at
Salamanca, when this prelate was at the Irish College there. Several excellent letters by Dr. Curtis to
the Duke are published in the second volume of the Duke’s ‘Correspondence,’ New Series. The letter
adverted to in the text was that in which the Duke said (not very wisely) that ‘if men could bury the
subject (of Catholic Emancipation) in oblivion for a short time, it might be possible to discover a
satisfactory remedy.’ Curtis put a copy of the letter in O’Connell’s hands, and he read it aloud at the
Catholic Association. Curtis sent a copy of the letter and his own reply to the Lord-Lieutenant, who
answered him in another letter, in which he said that ‘he did not before know the precise sentiments
of the Duke upon the present state of the Catholic question.’ This letter was also made public, and
added fuel to the flames.]

The word the in the first paragraph was substituted for a, and this
alteration these blockheads pretend makes a great difference in the sense. It
makes none, and is only worthy of remark because they probably echo what
he has said. It is clear enough as to his opinion, but nothing more. Curtis
was in Spain and imprisoned by the French at Salamanca. After the battle
the Duke delivered him and had a good deal RECALL OF LORD ANGLESEY. of
communication with him. He returned to Ireland, and from that period has
been in occasional correspondence with the Duke. Curtis had written him a
long letter, desiring information about his intentions, and this was the
answer. A few days ago Hyde Villiers called on the Duke and placed in his
hands the resolutions which were agreed to by a committee of the general
meeting to be held in Dublin next month. He took them, but said he must
decline saying anything; as Minister of the Crown he could not say a word,
as whatever he did must be done in conjunction with his colleagues and
with the King; that there was a disposition to draw inferences from
everything, as, for example, that a gentleman he had known in Spain had
written to him on the subject, and his answer had been handed about, and
all sorts of inferences drawn from it, which was very inconvenient, and

proved how cautious he must be. No doubt it was the Curtis correspondence
to which he alluded.

1829.

January 2nd, 1829
Lord Anglesey was recalled last Sunday. The Duke of Wellington came
to see my mother either Saturday or Sunday last, and told her he had been
with the King three hours the day before, talking to him about Lord A., that
his Majesty was furious with him, thought he took upon himself as if he
were King of Ireland, and was indignant at all he said and all he did. The
Duke talked a great deal about him, but did not say he was recalled, though
his manner was such that he left an impression that he had something in his
mind which he would not let out. He gave it to be understood, however, that
he had been endeavouring to appease the King, and that Lord A.’s recall
was insisted on by his Majesty against his (the Duke’s) desire. I enquired
warmly whether he had asserted or only implied this, because I don’t
believe one word of it. I was told that he had only implied it, but had left
that impression. But the Duke complained of Lord A.’s conduct to himself;
that he had at first written him insolent letters, and latterly had hardly ever
written to him at all. My belief is that the Duke has for some time wished to
get rid of Lord Anglesey, that these Cabinets have been upon this subject,
and that his recall was settled there. As to the King’s dictation and the
Duke’s submission, I don’t believe a word of it. It has been clear to me for
some time that the Irish Government could not remain in Lord Anglesey’s
hands. I am very sorry for it, for I think it will have a bad effect, and have
little hope of its being followed by any measures likely to counteract the
evil it immediately occasions.

January 4th, 1829
I have seen letters from Dublin stating that the immediate cause of the
recall was a letter which Lord Anglesey had written to the Duke (but what
that was I have not ascertained), and that his imprudence was so great it was

impossible he could have gone on. Certainly the writing and then
publishing this letter of Curtis’ is an enormous act of indiscretion. The
consternation in Dublin seems to have been great, and Henry says that if
Lord A. does not decline all demonstrations of popular feeling towards him,
he will leave Ireland as Lord Fitzwilliam did, attended by the whole
population. Yesterday I asked Fitzgerald[21] if it was true that Lord A. was
recalled. He put on a long face, and said ‘he did not know; recalled he
certainly was not.’ I saw he was not disposed to be communicative, so I said
no more; he, however, began again of his own accord, and asked me
whether I thought, in the event of Lord A.’s coming away, that Francis
Leveson would remain. I told him under what conditions he had taken the
place, viz. that he was only to stay while Lord A. did; that circumstances
might make a difference, but that I knew nothing. He said he had done
remarkably well, given great satisfaction, and shown great discretion in a
difficult situation; that the rock Lord A. had split upon was his vanity.
[21] [Right Hon. Vesey Fitzgerald, then President of the Board of Trade. He was raised to the
peerage of the United Kingdom in 1835, as Baron Fitzgerald and Vesci.]

January 5th, 1829
The exact history of what took place in Dublin is as follows:—Lord
Anglesey first of all desired RECALL OF LORD ANGLESEY. George Villiers would get
his letter to Dr. Curtis inserted in the newspaper. He took it to Shiel, who
agreed to write as good an article as he could to go with it, and then he went
to Dr. Murray to inform him (as Dr. Curtis’s friend) of the intended
publication, as Curtis himself was absent, and his consent ought to have
been previously obtained. He went afterwards to the Phoenix Park, and
Lord Anglesey laid the whole case and correspondence before him. Some
time ago the Duke wrote to Lord Anglesey proposing that O’Gorman
Mahon and Steele should be removed from the Commission of the Peace on
account of their conduct to the Sheriff of Clare. Lord Anglesey wrote word
that the subject had engaged his attention, and he had laid the case before
the law officers, who had reported to him that there were no grounds for
any legal proceedings against them. ‘How, therefore,’ said the Lord-
Lieutenant, ‘could I degrade men against whom my law officers advised me
that no charge could be brought?’ This was one offence; and another, that he

had countenanced Lord Cloncurry, who, being a member of the Association,
was unworthy to receive the King’s representative and the Chancellor. Lord
Anglesey warmly defended Lord Cloncurry as a magistrate and a man, and
appealed to his known loyalty and respect for the King as a proof that he
would never have done anything derogatory to his own situation. The
Duke’s letter he described to have been overbearing and insolent, Lord
Anglesey’s[22] temperate, but firm. Lord Anglesey declares that these were
all the grounds of offence he had given. Five weeks elapsed, during which
he heard nothing from the Duke, and at the end of that time he received his
letter of recall, conceived nearly in these words:—‘My dear Lord Anglesey,
—I am aware of the impropriety of having allowed your letter to remain so
long unanswered, but I wished to consult my colleagues, who were out of
town. I have now done so, and they concur with me that with such a
difference of opinion between the King’s Minister and the Lord-Lieutenant
of Ireland the government of that country could not be conducted by you
with advantage to the public service. I have therefore taken the King’s
pleasure on the subject, and he commands me to inform you that you will
be immediately relieved from your government. I will give you the earliest
information of the arrangement which will be made in consequence.
Believe me, &c.’ This is nearly the letter.[23] From Lord Anglesey George
Villiers went to Shiel, and with him to O’Connell, to whom Lord A. desired
he would communicate the event. O’Connell was dreadfully dejected, so
much so that Shiel and G. Villiers were glad to go home and dine with him
in order to calm him. They at length succeeded in doing so, and made him
engage to abstain from any discussion of the recall in the Association the
next day (a promise which he did not keep). Shiel made a very fine speech
in the Association. Nothing, they say, can exceed the general feeling on the
subject, and Lord Anglesey appears to be acting with great dignity and
reserve; he wishes to decline all popular honours, and he put off going to
the play, which he was to have done.
[22] [The correspondence of Lord Anglesey with the Duke of Wellington on these charges is
now published in the ‘Wellington Correspondence,’ New Series, vol. v. p. 244.]
[23] [The letter itself is now published in the ‘Wellington Correspondence,’ New Series, vol. v.
p. 366. Mr. Greville’s version of it differs in no material point from the original, though the language
is slightly altered.]

January 7th, 1829
The Duke wrote to Francis Leveson to say he must not be surprised to
hear that a letter would reach Lord Anglesey by that day’s post, conveying
to him his recall; that the King was so furious with him that he said he
would make any sacrifice rather than allow him to remain there five
minutes longer. His Secretary had repeatedly remonstrated with the Lord-
Lieutenant on his imprudent language in Ireland, and on the tone of his
letters to the Duke, but that he always defended both on principle. The
Duke said that his letters were most offensive towards him, yet he
continued to declare that he should have been glad to keep Lord Anglesey
on but for the King. The Lord-Lieutenant did not go to the play, but THE KING
AND THE CATHOLIC QUESTION. his family did, and were received with great
applause, although the pit was full of Orangemen. Lord Melville has
refused the Lord-Lieutenancy.

January 11th, 1829
When George Villiers sent me the accounts of what had passed in
Ireland about Lord Anglesey’s letter to Curtis I wrote him a long letter, in
which I told him why I thought the letter and its publication were
unjustifiable and indiscreet, and particularly cautioned him against
connecting himself much with the agitator, on account of the harm it would
do him here. He wrote me a long answer, defending Lord Anglesey and his
measures, but I do not think he makes out a case for him, and if the Lord-
Lieutenant makes in the House of Lords the defence which he proposes to
make I think he will fail; but if he can keep Lord Plunket on his side, who is
now said to be very eager about him, he will do. Plunket is under the
influence of Blake, who keeps, as George Villiers says, ‘Lord Plunket’s
mind in his breeches’ pocket.’ Lord Anglesey has behaved very well since
the quarrel, declining all honours and expressions of public feeling.

January 12th, 1829

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 obstinacy 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 Protestant.’ Anglesey
answered, ‘Sir, I will not be considered either Protestant or Catholic; I go to
Ireland determined to 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 whatever.
He showed me a letter from Mr. Harcourt Lees full of invectives against the
Duke and lamentations at the recall, to show how the Protestants regretted
him as well as the Catholics.
He then talked to me about Knighton, whom the King abhors with a
detestation that could hardly be described. He is afraid of him, and that is
the reason he hates him so bitterly. 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 appears
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
indolence 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 CHARACTER OF GEORGE IV. him to sign papers, &c. His greatest delight is to
make those who have business to transact with him, or to lay papers before
him, wait in his anteroom while he is lounging with Mount Charles or
anybody, talking of horses or any trivial matter; and when he is told, ‘Sir,
there is Watson waiting,’ &c., 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 contemptible, 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 misconduct.
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 condescension.
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 especially to
men whose minds are seldom regulated, as other men’s are, by the
beneficial discipline of education and early collision 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 contemptible order it would be difficult
to find a disposition more abundantly furnished.

January 16th, 1829
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 Aberdeen, Peel, Melville, Ellenborough. The King kept us
waiting rather longer than usual. He looked very well, and was dressed in a
blue great coat, all over gold frogs and embroidery. Lord Liverpool was
there to give up the late Lord’s Garter, and had an audience. He said to me
afterwards that the King had asked him all sorts of questions about his
family concerns, with which he seemed extraordinarily well acquainted, 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
insatiable. I spoke to Peel about the Council books,[24] which are in the
State Paper Office, and he promised they should be restored to the Council
Office.
[24] [At the fire which took place at Whitehall in 1619 several volumes of the ‘Council
Register’ were lost or dispersed. Some of these missing volumes were in the State Paper Office, and
two are still in the British Museum.]

Just before I set off to Windsor I heard from Ireland, and this is an
extract of the letter:—‘Lord Anglesey received a letter from Peel this
morning to the effect “that as he had written and published a letter such as
no Lord-Lieutenant was justified in writing, it was his Majesty’s pleasure
that Lords Justices should be immediately appointed.” Francis found him
very smiling and glorious, but angry, and declaring that he would do just the
same again if he had to choose his line of conduct.’
À propos of Denman’s silk gown, Mount Charles told me the other day
that Denman wrote a most humble apology to the King, notwithstanding
which the Duke of Wellington had great trouble in mollifying him. At last
he consented, but wrote himself on the document that in consideration of
his humble apology his Majesty forgave him, as he thought it became the
King to forgive a subject, but desired this note might be preserved in the
Treasury, where Mount Charles says it now is.[25]
[25] [This curious correspondence has now been published in the fifth volume of the Duke of
Wellington’s ‘Despatches,’ New Series, pp. 117 and 153. The cause of the quarrel was a Greek
quotation from Dion which Denman had introduced into one of his speeches at the Queen’s trial. In
the King’s answer to the memorial (which answer was drawn up by the Duke of Wellington) the
following passage occurs:—

‘The King could not believe that the Greek quotation referred to had occurred to the mind of the
advocate in the eagerness and heat of his argument, nor that it was not intended, nor that it had not
been sought for and suggested for the purpose of applying to the person of the Sovereign a gross
insinuation.’ Denman, however, prayed his Majesty to believe that ‘no such insinuation was ever
made by him, that the idea of it never entered his mind,’ &c.
The truth about this quotation is this:—During the Queen’s trial Dr. Parr, who was a warm
supporter of the Queen and an intimate friend of Denman, employed himself in ransacking books for
quotations which might be used in the defence. Thus he lit in Bayle’s Dictionary, article ‘Octavia,’
upon the answer made by Pythias, one of the slaves of Octavia, to Tigellinus, when he was torturing
the slaves of the Empress in order to convict her of adultery. The same answer occurs in substance in
Tacitus’ ‘Annals,’ book xiv. cap. 60. This Parr sent to Denman, and Denman used it in his speech.
The fact is, therefore, that the quotation had been ‘sought for and suggested’ for the express purpose
of saying something personally offensive to the King. The King’s resentment against Denman did not
end here as will be seen lower down, where he refused to receive the Recorder’s report through the
Common Serjeant.]

January 21st, 1829
The sealed orders with which the ships STATE OF RUSSIA. have sailed from
Plymouth, were orders to prevent the Portuguese (who have been sent
away) from landing at Terceira.
Lady Westmeath was the woman meant in the article in the ‘Times’
from Ireland about the pension to which Lord Anglesey would not agree.
The story is very true. There was 700ℓ. disposable on the Pension Fund, and
the Duke of Wellington desired 400ℓ. might be given to Lady Westmeath,
which Lord Anglesey and the Secretary both protested against, and were
resolved to resign rather than agree to it. They wrote to the Duke such
strong remonstrances that he appears to have desisted from the design, for
they heard no more of it. It is therefore false that this had anything to do
with the recall, though it is by no means improbable that it served to
alienate the Duke from the Marquis and to make him desire the more to get
rid of him. This happened as long ago as last August, I think.
Yesterday the Duke dined with us, in very good spirits, and agreeable
as he always is, though not so communicative and free as he used to be. He
had never told Francis Leveson about the Duke of Northumberland[26] till
Sunday, when he wrote to announce the appointment. His Grace seems
mightily pleased with it, and fancies that his figure and his fortune are more

than enough to make him a very good Lord-Lieutenant. He says he was
obliged to coax him a little to get him to accept it.
[26] [Hugh, third Duke of Northumberland, was declared Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland on the
recall of Lord Anglesey.]

He said that he was on the best terms with France, talked of Russia and
her losses in the war, adding that the notion of her power was at an end. He
believed that the Russians were numerically as strong as the Turks in the
last campaign, and they were much more numerous than they said: first,
because they said they were not so; and secondly, that he had other reasons
for believing it; he thought they had begun the campaign with 160,000 men
and had lost 120,000.[27] They were talking of St. Petersburg and its
palaces. The Duke said that the fortunes of the great Russian nobles—the
Tolstoys, &c.—were so diminished that they lived in corners of their great
palaces; but this was owing to the division of property and the great military
colonies, by which the Crown lands were absorbed, and the Emperors had
no longer the means of enriching the nobles by enormous donations as
formerly. When to these circumstances are added the amelioration of the
condition of the serfs, and the spirit of general improvement, and the
growth of Liberal ideas, generated by intercommunication with the rest of
Europe, it is impossible to doubt that a revolution must overtake Russia
within a short period, and probably the Emperor has undertaken this war in
order to give vent to the restless humours which are beginning to work. I
said so to Lord Bathurst, and he replied that ‘he thought so too, but that the
present Emperor was a man of great firmness,’ as if any individual authority
or character could stem the torrent of determined action impelled by
universal revolution of feeling and opinion. THE EMPEROR ALEXANDER I. He said
the late Emperor was so well aware of this that he died of the vexation it
had caused him, which was aggravated by the reflection that he was in great
measure himself the cause of it. He was so bit by Liberal opinions, and so
delighted with the effects he saw in other countries flowing from the
diffusion of intelligence and freedom, that he wished to engraft these
dangerous exotics upon the rude and unprepared soil of his own slavish
community. When he went to Oxford he was so captivated with the
venerable grandeur of that University that he declared he would build one
when he got home, and it is equally true that he said he ‘would have an
Opposition.’ These follies were engendered in the brain of a very intelligent

man by the mixture of such crudities with an unbounded volition, and the
whole fermented by a lively imagination and a sincere desire to confer great
benefits on his country.
[27] [This seems an extraordinary statement, but it shows how well informed the Duke was. In
Major von Moltke’s narrative of the campaign of 1828 he estimates the average force of the Russian
army at 100,000. But from May 1828 to February 1829 no less than 210,108 men passed through the
hospitals, or died in them. So that, as Moltke remarks, in the course of those ten months every man in
his army was twice in hospital. Never did an army suffer more severely from sickness.]

January 25th, 1829
Lord Anglesey’s departure from Dublin was very fine, and his answer
to the addresses good. I fancy George Villiers had some hand in penning
them. 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 despatches 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 Bathurst 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 conference 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
ascertained.’
Everybody thinks the appointment of the Duke of Northumberland a
very good one, and that the Duke is in great luck to get him. It is surprising
that he should have consented to go, but he probably likes to do something
and display his magnificence. He is a very good sort of man, with a very
narrow understanding, an eternal talker, and prodigious bore. The Duchess
is a more sensible woman, and amiable and good-humoured. He is
supposed to be ruled in all things by her advice; he has no political
opinions, and though he has hitherto voted against the Catholics, he is one
of the people who pin their faith on the Duke, and who are made to vote in
any way and upon anything as he may please to desire them.

This pension of Lady Westmeath’s makes a great noise, and it is
generally believed that when Lord Anglesey refused to grant it the Duke got
the King’s sign manual for it, and the job was done. The truth is that Lord
Anglesey had at first refused, or rather expressed his disapprobation, and
asked the Duke if the King had commanded it, to which the Duke sent an
angry answer that he might have been sure he should not have
recommended it but by the King’s commands. M—— told me the pension
(400ℓ.) was granted four months ago, for he signed the warrant himself.
Polignac is gone to Paris, but the Duke thinks not to be Minister.
Polignac told him that he wished to return here, as he thought he could do
more good here than there.
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,’[28] which I mean to ask
for, but which I suppose they will refuse. Amyot suggests that as all the acts
of the Council of State were illegal and of no authority they cannot 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. THE STATE PAPER OFFICE. Every
day has brought to light documents of importance and interest which as
they are successively found are classed and arranged and rendered
disposable for literary and historical purposes.

[28] [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.]

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.[29] We saw the famous
letter to Lord Mounteagle, of which Lemon said he had, he thought,
discovered the author. It has been attributed to Mrs. Abington, Lord
Mounteagle’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 ‘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.
[29] [The substance of these papers has since been published by the late David Jardine, Esq., in
his excellent ‘Narrative of the Gunpowder Plot.’ (Murray, London, 1857.) Some of the particulars
here referred to by Mr. Greville are not strictly accurate, 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 Tresham (‘Narrative,’ &c., p. 83). Garnett’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 Equivocation’ was found in Tresham’s desk. The identical copy with Garnett’s
notes is still in the Bodleian; it was reprinted in 1851.]

When I came away from the State Paper Office I met George Dawson,
and we had a long conversation about Irish affairs, from which I gathered
what is to be done. The Catholic question is to be conceded, the elective
franchise altered, and the Association suppressed. This latter is, I take it, to
be a preliminary measure, and I suspect the Duke went to the King on
Monday with the resolution of the Cabinet on the subject, and I think so the
more because the Archbishop was sent for post-haste just before he went.
Dawson talked to me a great deal about his speech at Derry, and said that so
many of his friends were aware of the change in his opinions that he
thought it more fair and manly to declare them at once in public than to use
any dissimulation with his constituents and leave them to be guessed at, as
if he dared not own them; that he had made a great sacrifice, for he had
risked his seat, which was very secure before, and had quarrelled with Peel,
with his family, and with all his old political friends and associates. We
talked a great deal about Peel, and I see clearly that he has given way;
probably they have compromised the business, and he agrees to the
Emancipation part, in order to have the Association suppressed and the 40s.
freeholders disfranchised. Lord Anglesey always said that his removal
would facilitate the business, for the Duke wished to have all the credit of it
to himself, and had no NAVARINO. mind to divide it with him, whereas if Lord
Anglesey had remained the chief credit would have fallen to his share.
I met Sir Edward Codrington in the morning, and walked with him to
Downing Street, where he was going to talk to the Duke about his Navarino
business. He is mightily incensed, thinks he has been scandalously used
both by Dudley and Aberdeen, is ready to tell his story and show his
documents to anybody, and says he is resolved the whole matter shall come
out, and in the House of Commons if he can produce it. God knows how his
case will turn out, but I never saw a man so well satisfied with himself. He
says that the action at Navarino was, as an achievement, nothing to the
affair at Patras, when with one line-of-battle ship, one frigate, and a corvette
he drove before him Ibrahim and four Turkish admirals and a numerous
fleet.

February 4th, 1829
Went to Middleton last Friday; very few people. I returned by Oxford,
and called on Dr. Bandinell, who took me to the Bodleian. I could not find
any Council books, but I had not much time to devote to the search. Dr.
Bandinell promised to inform me if he could find any books or manuscripts
relating to my office. I was surprised to find in the Bodleian a vast number
of books (manuscripts) which had belonged to Pepys. I came to town on
Monday night, and found that the concession of Catholic Emancipation was
generally known; the ‘Times’ had an article on Friday which clearly
announced it. The rage and despair of the Orange papers is very amusing. I
have not yet heard how the King took it all. Glad as I am that the measure is
going to be carried, the conduct of all those who are to assist in it (the old
anti-Catholics) seems to me despicable to the greatest degree; having
opposed it against all reason and common sense for years past, now that the
Duke of Wellington lifts up his finger they all obey, and without any excuse
for their past or present conduct. The most agreeable event, if it turns out to
be true, is the defection of Dr. Philpots, whose conduct and that of others of
his profession will probably not be without its due effect in sapping the
foundations of the Church. All the details that I have yet learnt confirm my
opinion that the spirit in which the Duke and his colleagues approach this
great measure is not that of calm and deliberate political reasoning, but a
fearful sense of necessity and danger, to which they submit with extreme
repugnance and with the most miserable feelings of pique and mortification
at being compelled to adopt it. The Duke and Peel wrote to Francis
Leveson, complaining of my brother’s having met Shiel at dinner, and they
were so enraged with George Villiers[30] that they seriously meditated
turning him out of his office. Wretched and contemptible to the greatest
degree! They are now exceedingly annoyed because it is discovered that
Woulffe was once a member of the Association, and would willingly have
him turned out of the place of Assistant-Barrister, which has just been given
to him; but Francis is resolved to maintain him in it. They say the Duke sent
a copy of the King’s Speech to Lord Eldon.
[30] [Mr. George Villiers, then an Irish Commissioner of Customs (afterwards Earl of
Clarendon), had cultivated the society of Shiel and invited him to dinner. Such an attention from an
English official to an Irish Catholic was at that time an unheard-of innovation. Shiel told his host that
he had never dined in a Protestant house before. The Duke of Wellington took great umbrage at what
he considered an unwarrantable breach of official decorum.]

February 5th, 1829
Went to Brookes’ yesterday, and found all the Whigs very merry at the
Catholic news. Most of them were just come to town and had heard nothing
till they arrived. The old Tories dreadfully dejected, but obliged to own it
was all true; intense curiosity to hear what Peel will say for himself. The
general opinion seems to be that the Duke has managed the matter
extremely well, which I am disposed to think too, but there is always a
disposition to heap praise upon him whenever it is possible. Nobody yet
knows who are converted and who are not; they talk of nine bishops; I think
he will have them all, and I expect a very great majority in the House of
Lords. Many people expect that Wilmot’s plan will be adopted, restraining
the Catholics from voting in matters concerning the Church, which I do not
believe, for Wilmot is at a discount and his CATHOLIC RELIEF BILL. plan is absurd
and impracticable. Lord Harrowby, however, is all for it. I hear many of the
Liberals are exceedingly provoked, and not unnaturally, at the Duke’s
effecting this measure, at which they have been so long labouring in vain,
and give as many spiteful flings at him as they can about the insincerity of
his letter to Curtis. It matters very little now whether he was sincere or not.
It evidently was part of his plan to keep it all secret till it was matured, and
as Curtis chose to ask him questions he was quite right to throw dust in his
eyes.

CHAPTER V.
The Catholic Relief Bill — Inconsistency of the Tories — The
Catholic Association — Dinner at Charles Grant’s — The
Terceira Expedition — Tory Discontent — Peel resigns his Seat
for Oxford University — A Blunder in Chancery — The Oxford
Election — Influence of the Duke of Wellington — Debate of
Royal Dukes — Peel beaten — Sir Edward Codrington —
Violence of the King — Intrigues to defeat the Catholic Bill —
The Duke of Cumberland — Furious State of Parties —
Matuscewitz — Peel’s Speech on Catholic Emancipation —
Exclusion of O’Connell from his Seat for Clare — Pitt’s View of
Catholic Emancipation — ‘Musæ Cateatonenses’ — ‘Thorough’
— Mr. Lowther not turned out — Duke of Newcastle’s
Audience of George IV. — The King’s Personal Habits — The
Debate — Mr. Sadler — Hardness of the Duke of Wellington —
His Duel with Lord Winchelsea — The Bishops and the Bill —
Sir Charles Wetherell — The King on the Duel — Lord
Winchelsea’s Pocket-handkerchief — Debate on the Catholic
Bill — The Duke of Richmond — Effects of Dawson’s Speech
on the King — The Bill in Jeopardy — Lady Jersey and Lord
Anglesey — Lord Falmouth and Lord Grey — O’Connell at
Dinner — The Duke breaks with Lord Eldon — Hibner the
Murderess — Theatrical Fund — The Levee — The Duke’s
Carriage stopped — The King’s Health — Lady Conyngham —
O’Connell’s Seat — Child’s Ball at Court — Princess Victoria
— Legal Appointments — Lord Palmerston on Foreign Affairs
— The King and Lord Sefton — The King’s Speech on the
Prorogation — Madame du Cayla — George IV.’s Inaccuracy
— Conversation of the Duke of Wellington on the King and the
Duke of Cumberland.

February 6th, 1829
Parliament met yesterday; a very full attendance and intense interest
and curiosity. The King’s Speech, which was long and better written than
usual, was not quite satisfactory to the Catholics. I met Lord Harrowby
coming from the House of Lords, and he said they did not like it at all; the
previous suppression of the Association was what they disliked. However,
all discontent was removed by Peel’s speech, which was deemed (as to the
intentions of Ministers) perfectly satisfactory even by those PEEL’S SPEECH ON
THE CATHOLIC BILL. who were most prejudiced before against Government. I
was in the House of Commons. Peel was very feeble, and his case for
himself poor and ineffective; all he said was true enough, but it was only
what had been said to him over and over again for years past, and he did not
urge a single argument for acquiescing now which was not equally
applicable to his situation two years ago. However, everybody was so glad
to have the measure carried that they did not care to attack Peel or his
speech, though if there had been a Brunswicker of any talent in the House
he might have cut it up finely; two or three of them spoke, but wretchedly
ill, and Lord Chandos was not at all violent, which I expected he would
have been. Lord Eldon was violent but impotent, in the House of Lords, and
Lord Bathurst made a sort of explanation which was very poor.
On leaving the House of Commons I fell in with Burdett, Lord Sefton,
and G. Bentinck, and they all owned that the business is very handsomely
done; and Morpeth and many others whom I saw afterwards at the Club are
quite satisfied. They would have preferred that the Catholic Relief Bill and
the suppression of the Association should have gone together, but do not
make any difficulties on this head, and acknowledge (which is the truth)
that the Duke was probably obliged to do something to cajole the Tories,
and give some colour to their conduct. I sat next to Fitzgerald in the House,
who is not yet re-elected, and he told me that this was absolutely necessary.
He was of course delighted and said, ‘How right Lord Francis was to trust
to the Duke,’ which, however, is all nonsense. He had no reason to trust to
him at all, and I really believe would not have continued in office as Irish
Secretary unless he had adopted this measure. He owned as Peel was
speaking that he was not doing it well; he was feeble and diffuse in the
beginning, and too full of civilities and appeals to Bankes and his old
associates. However, thank God, the event is accomplished, no matter how;

probably it could not have been done without the concurrence of these
Tories, who have, I think, certainly lost their character by their conduct; and
there is this evil in the history of the measure, that a blow will have been
given to the reputation of public men in general which will, I strongly
suspect, have an important though not immediate effect upon the
aristocratic influence in this country, and tend remotely to increase the
democratic spirit which exists. In all these proceedings there has been so
little of reason, principle, or consistency; so much of prejudice,
subserviency, passion, and interest, that it is impossible not to feel a disgust
to parties in general. The conduct of those idiots the Brunswickers is
respectable in comparison with such men as the High Churchmen; and the
Whigs and Catholic supporters, however they may have suffered before, in
this matter stand clear and have only grounds for exultation. They accept
the measure with great moderation, and are not disposed to mar the success
of it by the introduction of any topics likely to create ill blood, nor to damp
the ardour of new converts by throwing their former follies in their faces.
Now, then, the Duke is all-powerful, and of course he will get all the
honour of the day. Not that he does not deserve a great deal for having
made up his mind to the thing; he has managed it with firmness, prudence,
and dexterity; but to O’Connell and the Association, and those who have
fought the battle on both sides of the water, the success of the measure is
due. Indeed, Peel said as much, for it was the Clare election which
convinced both him and the Duke that it must be done, and from that time
the only question was whether he should be a party to it or not. If the Irish
Catholics had not brought matters to this pass by agitation and association,
things might have remained as they were for ever, and all these Tories
would have voted on till the day of their death against them.
Mahony, who is here, has written over to O’Connell, as have all the
other Catholics, to implore him to use his whole influence to procure the
dissolution of the Association, and it is said that O’Connell had an idea of
resigning his seat for Clare to Vesey, on the ground that, having turned him
out because he had joined a Government hostile DINNER AT CHARLES GRANT’S to
their claims, he owed him this reparation on finding it not to be the case.
But I doubt whether this scheme is practicable; still, I think if O’Connell
could do it it would be a good thing, and serve to reconcile the people here
to him, and give a great lift to his character. I expect to hear that the

Association has dissolved itself on receiving intelligence of the proceedings
in the House of Commons. Lord Anglesey spoke very well, but nobody will
care for his case now; besides, I doubt his making out a good one. The fact
is that they laid a trap for him, and that he fell into it; that the Duke’s letters
became more insulting, and that a prudent man would have avoided the
snare into which his high spirit and passion precipitated him.

February 8th, 1829
Peel spoke on Friday night better than he did on Thursday. Huskisson
made a spiteful speech, and George Dawson one which I heard Huskisson
say he thought one of the neatest speeches he had ever heard. I dined
yesterday with all the Huskissonians at Grant’s. There were there Lords
Granville, Palmerston, and Melbourne, Huskisson, Warrender, and one or
two more. Huskisson is in good humour and spirits, but rather bitter; he said
that if Peel had asked the advice of a friend what he should do, the advice
would have been for his own honour to resign. I said I did not think Peel
would have got credit by resigning. He said, ‘But don’t you think he has
quite lost it by staying in?’ He owned, however, that the Duke could not
have carried it without Peel, that his influence with the Church party is so
great that his continuance was indispensable to the Duke.
This affair of the Portuguese at Terceira[1] (which certainly, unless it
can be explained, seems a gross outrage) they all fell upon very severely,
and Lord Harrowby told me afterwards he could not understand it, and
thought for the honour of the country it should be explained forthwith.
[1] [In December 1828 an expedition, consisting of 652 Portuguese refugees of the party of the
Queen, sailed from England for Terceira in four vessels, under the command of Count Saldanha.
Terceira held for the Queen, and arms and ammunition had previously been sent them from England.
The British Government ordered Captain Walpole, of the ‘Ranger’ to stop this expedition off
Terceira, which he did by firing a gun into Saldanha’s ship. The ground taken by the Duke of
Wellington in defence of this measure was his resolution to maintain the neutrality of England
between the two parties then contending for the Crown of Portugal. But the proceeding was
vehemently attacked in Parliament and elsewhere.]

We are now beginning to discover different people’s feelings about this
Catholic business, and it is clear that many of the great Tories are deeply
offended that the Duke was not more communicative to them, principally, it

seems, because they have continued to talk in an opposite sense and in their
old strain up to the last moment, thereby committing themselves, and thus
becoming ridiculous by the sudden turn they are obliged to make. This they
cannot forgive, and many of them are extremely out of humour, although
not disposed to oppose the Duke. The Duke of Rutland means to go to
Belvoir, and not vote at all. The Duke of Beaufort does not like it, but will
support the measure. Lowther has been to the King, and it is supposed he
has resigned. They complain that the Duke has thrown them over, still
nobody doubts that he will have great majorities in both Houses. It was
asserted most positively at Brookes’ yesterday that Peel’s offer of resigning
his seat at Oxford had been accepted. In Dublin the moderate people are
furious with O’Connell for his abuse of everybody. There is no getting over
the fact that he it is who has brought matters to this conclusion, and that but
for him the Catholic question would never have been carried; but his
violence, bad taste, and scurrility have made him ‘lose the lustre of his
former praise.’

February 9th, 1829
I called at Devonshire House in the morning, and there found Princess
Lieven very eloquent and very angry about the Terceira business, which
certainly requires explanation. She is very hostile to the Duke, which is
natural, as he is anti-Russian, and they have never got over their old quarrel.
Saldanha got up a coup de théâtre on board his ship. When Walpole fired on
him a man was killed, and when the English officer came on board he had
the corpse stretched out and covered by a cloak, which was DISCONTENT OF THE
TORIES. suddenly withdrawn, and Saldanha said, ‘Voilà un fidèle sujet de la
Reine, qui a toujours été loyal, assassiné,’ &c.
Went from thence to Mrs. Arbuthnot, who declaimed against
O’Connell and wants to have a provision in the Bill to prevent his sitting for
Clare, which I trust is only her folly, and that there is no chance of such a
thing. The Duke came in while I was there. He said he had no doubt he
should do very well in the House of Lords, but up to that time he could only
(that he knew of for certain) reduce the majority of last year to twenty. He
did not count bishops, of whom he said he knew nothing, but the three Irish

bishops would vote with him. There were many others he did not doubt
would, but he could only count upon that number. He held some proxies,
which he said he would not make use of, such as Lord Strangford’s, as he
could not hear from him in time, and would not use anybody’s proxy for
this question who had voted against it before. I told him how peevish the
Duke of Rutland, and Beaufort, and others of the High Tories were, but he
only laughed. In the evening Fitzgerald told me that the Convocation at
Oxford had accepted Peel’s resignation of his seat for the University, but
left the time to him. It seems to me that this affair was mismanaged. In the
first instance Peel wrote to the Dean of Christ Church, but he and Lloyd[2]
agreed that he ought to write to the Vice-Chancellor, which he did. The
Vice-Chancellor did not read his letter till after they had voted the address
to Parliament by three to one, after which it was difficult for them to
express anything but disapprobation of Peel’s conduct; whereas if the Vice-
Chancellor had read it first, probably the petition would not have been
carried, or at any rate not by so large a majority. He had better have carried
his Bill through and then resigned, when I have no doubt he would have
been re-elected; very likely he may be as it is.
[2] [The Bishop of Oxford, one of Sir Robert Peel’s most intimate friends.]

Tom Duncombe is going to make another appearance on the boards of
St. Stephen’s, on the Terceira business, and he is to give notice to-night. He
has been with Palmella and Frederick Lamb, who are both to assist in
getting up his case, and he expects to be supported by some of the Whigs
and by the Huskissonians, which latter are evidently anxious to do anything
they can to embarrass the Government. I know nothing of the case, which,
primâ facie, appears much against Government; but the moment is so ill-
chosen, in the midst of this great pending affair, that I think they will make
nothing of it. Palmella is a great fool for his pains, for in clamouring against
the Duke he is only kicking against the pricks. As to Duncombe, he is egged
on by Lambton and instructed by Henry de Ros, who cares nothing about
the matter, and only does it for the fun of the thing. I have no idea but that
Duncombe must cut a sorry figure when he steps out of the line of personal
abuse and impertinence.

February 11th, 1829
Nothing is thought of or talked of but the Catholic question; what
Peers and bishops will vote for it? who voted before against it? There is
hardly any other feeling than that of satisfaction, except on the part of the
ultra-Tories, who do not attempt to conceal their rage and vexation; the
moderate Tories, who are mortified at not having been told of what was
going on; and Huskisson’s party, who would have been glad to have a share
in the business, and who now see themselves in all probability excluded for
ever. O’Connell arrived yesterday; it is supposed he will not take his seat,
but he does not seem inclined to co-operate with Government in keeping
things quiet. However, his real disposition is not yet known, and probably
he has not made up his mind what to do, but waits for events.
Notwithstanding the declaration of the bishops, I do not believe they will
vote against Government. Peel spoke very well last night, and severely
trimmed old Bankes, which gives me great pleasure, so much do I hate that
old worn-out set. How this change of measures changes one’s whole way of
thinking; though I have nothing to do with politics, I cannot help being
influenced to an extraordinary degree by CATHOLIC RELIEF BILL. what has
passed, and can understand from my own feelings how those who are
deeply engaged may be biassed by the prejudices and attachments of party
without any imputation against their sincerity or judgment. When we see
men pursuing a course of which we greatly disapprove, all their actions and
motives are suspected by us, and vice versâ. We lend a willing ear to
imputations of vanity, interest, and other unworthy motives, and when we
cannot explain or comprehend the particulars of men’s conduct, we judge
them unfavourably while we are opposed to their measures; but when they
do what we wish, we see the same things very differently, and begin to
hesitate about the justice of our censures and the suspicions which we
previously entertained. It is pretty clear that the Duke will have a good
majority in the House of Lords, and that many Peers and bishops will find
excuses between this and then for voting with him or remaining neutral.
A ridiculous thing happened the other day in the Vice-Chancellor’s
Court. Sugden had taken a brief 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-Chancellor 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.

February 13th, 1829
Still the Catholic question and the probable numbers in the House of
Lords; nobody talks of anything else. Lord Winchelsea makes an ass of
himself, and would like to be sent to the Tower, but nobody will mind
anything such a blockhead says. Lord Holland talks of a majority of sixty in
the Lords. I walked with Ebrington to O’Connell’s door the other day; he
went in. The next day I asked him what had passed. He said that he had
pressed him strongly to dissolve the Association; O’Connell said he could
not press it himself, but would write to Ireland that it was the unanimous
opinion of all the friends of the cause here that it should be done. The fact
is, he does not dare to acquiesce in all the measures of Government, though
there is little doubt but that he desires to see an end to associations and
agitations. Lady Jersey affects to be entirely in the Duke’s confidence. She
said to Lord Granville at Madame de Lieven’s the other night that ‘she
made it a rule never to talk to the Duke about affairs in public,’ and she said
to me last night that she had known what was to be done about the
Catholics all along. Certainly she contrives to make the Duke see a great
deal of her, for he calls on her, and writes to her perpetually, but I doubt
whether he tells her much of anything. Some of the household have made a
struggle to be exempted from the general obligation on all members of
Government to vote for the Bill, but the Duke will not stand it, and they
must all vote or go out. The Privy Seal was offered to Lord Westmoreland,
but he refused, and his answer was good—that if he had been in the
Cabinet, he might possibly have seen the same grounds for changing his
mind on the Catholic question that the other Ministers did; but not having
had those opportunities, he retained his former opinions, and therefore
could not accept office.

February 22nd, 1829
Went to Newmarket last Sunday and came back on Thursday. Still the
Catholic question and nothing else. Everybody believed that the Duke of
Cumberland would support Government till he made this last speech. He
went to the King, who desired him to call on the Duke, and when he got to
town he went uninvited to dine with him. There has been nothing of
consequence in either House, except the dressing which Lord Plunket gave
Lord Eldon, though that hard-bitten old dog shows capital fight. Peel has
got a most active and intelligent committee at Oxford, and they consider his
election safe. Inglis’s committee, on the contrary, is composed of men not
much better than old women, except Fynes Clinton, the chairman. Every
day the majority promises to be greater in the House of Lords, but it is very
ridiculous to see the faces many of these Tory CATHOLIC RELIEF BILL. Lords
make at swallowing the bitter pill. Too great a noise is made about Peel and
his sacrifices, but he must be supported and praised at this juncture. It is not
for those who have been labouring in this cause, and want his assistance, to
reject him or treat him uncivilly now that he tenders it. But as to the body of
the High Tories, it is impossible not to regard their conduct with disgust and
contempt, for now they feel only for themselves, and it is not apprehension
of those dangers they have been constantly crying out about that affects
them, but the necessity they are under of making such a sudden turn, and
bitter mortification at having been kept in total ignorance, and,
consequently, having been led to hold the same violent language up to the
last moment. If Canning had lived, God knows what would have happened,
for they never would have turned round for him as they are now about to do
for the Duke. The circumstances of the case are just the same; since 1825
the same game has been going on in Ireland, and in the same manner, and
the Clare election was only what had happened at Waterford before. All this
has given a blow to the aristocracy, which men only laugh at now, but of
which the effects will be felt some day or other. Who will have any
dependence hereafter on the steadiness and consistency of public men, and
what credit will be given to professions and declarations? I am glad to see
them dragged through the mire, as far as the individuals are concerned, but I
am sorry for the effect that such conduct is likely to produce. There was a
capital paper of Cobbett’s yesterday, in his best style. Many Liberals are
uneasy about what are called the securities, and when the Duke tells Lord

Colchester that if he will wait he will be satisfied with the Bill, it is enough
to make them so; but my hopes predominate over my fears. Yesterday Vesey
Fitzgerald said that ‘we had not yet seen what some people might consider
the objectionable parts of the measure, but that, though certain things might
be necessary, the Government are impressed with the paramount necessity
of not leaving the Catholic question behind them, and that the Duke was a
man of too firm a mind not to go through with it;’ and I think he said
distinctly that Catholics and Protestants must be placed on an equal footing,
or something to that effect. He went off into a panegyric on the Duke, and
said that seeing him as he did for several hours every day, he had
opportunities of finding out what an extraordinary man he was, and that it
was remarkable what complete ascendency he had acquired over all who
were about him. The English of this is (what everybody knew) that he
dictates to his Cabinet. The fact is, he is a man of great energy, decision,
and authority, and his character has been formed by the events of his life,
and by the extraordinary circumstances which have raised him to a situation
higher than any subject has attained in modern times. That his great
influence is indispensable to carry this question, and therefore most useful
at this time, cannot be doubted, for he can address the King in a style which
no other Minister could adopt. He treats with him as with an equal, and the
King stands completely in awe of him. It will be long before a correct and
impartial estimate is formed of the Duke’s character and abilities; his
talents, however, must be of a very superior, though not of the most shining
description. Whatever he may be, he is at this moment one of the most
powerful Ministers this country has ever seen. The greatest Ministers have
been obliged to bend to the King, or the aristocracy, or the Commons, but
he commands them all. M—— told me that he had not seen the King, but
that he heard he was as sulky as a bear, and that he was sure he would be
very glad if anything happened to defeat this measure, though he is too
much afraid of the Duke to do anything himself tending to thwart it.
The Emperor of Russia is extremely disgusted at the language of the
newspapers here, and desired his Minister to complain of it, and the Duke
wrote the answer himself, in which he entered at great length into the
character and utility of the press in this country, a dissertation affording a
proof certainly of his quickness and industry, overwhelmed as he is with

business. The Duke of Richmond offered to give up his Garter, but the
Duke would not take it back.

February 26th, 1829
DEBATE OF THE ROYAL DUKES.The debate on Monday night in the House of
Lords was very amusing. It was understood the Duke of Clarence was to
speak, and there was a good deal of curiosity to hear him. Lord Bathurst
was in a great fright lest he should be violent and foolish. He made a very
tolerable speech, of course with a good deal of stuff in it, but such as it was
it has exceedingly disconcerted the other party. The three royal Dukes
Clarence, Cumberland, and Sussex got up one after another, and attacked
each other (that is, Clarence and Sussex attacked Cumberland, and he them)
very vehemently, and they used towards each other language that nobody
else could have ventured to employ; so it was a very droll scene. The Duke
of Clarence said the attacks on the Duke [of Wellington] had been
infamous; the Duke of Cumberland took this to himself, but when he began
to answer it could not recollect the expression, which the Duke of Clarence
directly supplied. ‘I said “infamous.”’ The Duke of Sussex said that the
Duke of Clarence had not intended to apply the word to the Duke of
Cumberland, but if he chose to take it to himself he might. Then the Duke
of Clarence said that the Duke of Cumberland had lived so long abroad that
he had forgotten there was such a thing as freedom of debate.

February 27th, 1829
They say Plunket made one of the best speeches he ever delivered last
night, and Lord Anglesey spoke very well. There was hardly anybody in the
House. Peel’s election [Oxford University] is going on ill. The Convocation
presents a most disgraceful scene of riot and uproar. I went to the
Committee Room last night at twelve, and found nobody there but Dr.
Russell, the head-master of the Charterhouse, who was waiting for
Hobhouse and amusing himself by correcting his boys’ exercises. He knew
me, though he had not seen me for nearly twenty years, when I was at

school. I shall be sorry if Peel does not come in, not that I care much for
him, but because I cannot bear that his opponents should have a triumph.
Lady Georgiana Bathurst told me she had had a great scene with the
Duke of Cumberland. She told him not to be factious and to go back to
Germany; he was very angry, and after much argument and many
reproaches they made it up, embraced, and he shed a flood of tears.
I met with these lines in ‘The Duke of Milan’ (Massinger), which are
very applicable to the Duke in his dealings with his Cabinet and his old
friends the Tories:—
You never heard the motives that induced him
To this strange course? No; these are cabinet councils,
And not to be communicated but
To such as are his own and sure. Alas!
We fill up empty places, and in public
Are taught to give our suffrages to that
Which was before determined.

March 1st, 1829
As the time draws near for the development of the plans of
Government a good deal of uneasiness and doubt prevails, though the
general disposition is to rely on the Duke of Wellington’s firmness and
decision and to hope for the best. Peel’s defeat at Oxford,[3] though not
likely to have any effect on the general measure, is unlucky, because it
serves to animate the anti-Catholics; and had he succeeded, his success
would have gone far to silence, as it must have greatly discouraged, them.
Then the King gives the Ministers uneasiness, for the Duke of Cumberland
has been tampering with him, and through the agency of Lord Farnborough
great attempts have been made to induce him to throw obstacles in the way
of the measures. He is very well inclined, and there is nothing false or base
he would not do if he dared, but he is such a coward, and stands in such awe
of the Duke, that I don’t think anything serious is to be apprehended from
him. There never was anything so mismanaged as the whole affair of
Oxford. First the letter Peel wrote was very injudicious; it was a tender of

resignation, which being received just after the vote of Convocation, SIR E.
CODRINGTON AND THE DUKE. they were obliged to accept it. Then he should never
have stood unless he had been sure of success, and it appears now that his
canvass never promised well from the beginning. He should have taken the
Chiltern Hundreds, and immediately informed them that he had done so.
Probably no opposition would have been made, but after having accepted
his resignation they could not avoid putting up another man. It appears that
an immense number of parsons came to vote of whose intentions both
parties were ignorant, and they almost all voted for Inglis.
[3] [Upon the 4th of February Mr. Peel resigned his seat for the University of Oxford, in
consequence of the change of his opinions on the Catholic question. A contest ensued, Sir Robert
Harry Inglis being the candidate opposed to Peel. Inglis was returned by a majority of 146. Mr. Peel
sat for the borough of Westbury during the ensuing debates.]

Codrington was at Brookes’ yesterday, telling everybody who would
listen to him what had passed at an interview, that I have mentioned before,
with the Duke of Wellington, and how ill the Duke had treated him. He said
the Duke assured him that neither he nor any of his colleagues, nor the
Government collectively, had any sort of hostility to him, but, on the
contrary, regarded him as a very meritorious officer, &c. He then said, ‘May
I, then, ask why I was recalled?’ The Duke said, ‘Because you did not
understand your instructions in the sense in which they were intended by
us.’ He replied that he had understood them in their plain obvious sense,
and that everybody else who had seen them understood them in the same
way—Adam, Ponsonby, Guilleminot, &c.—and then he asked the Duke to
point out the passages in which they differed, to which he said, ‘You must
excuse me.’ All this he was telling, and it may be very true, and that he is
very ill-used; but if he means to bring his case before Parliament, he is
unwise to chatter about it at Brookes’, particularly to Lord Lynedoch, to
whom he was addressing himself, who is not likely to take part with him
against the Duke.

March 2nd, 1829
Saw M—— yesterday; he has been at Windsor for several days, and
confirmed all that I had heard before 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 Wellington this; he said he had not, but that the day the
Ministers 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 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 imagine. There never was such a man, or behaviour so
atrocious as his—a mixture of narrow-mindedness, selfishness, truckling,
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 3rd, 1829
Called on H. de Ros yesterday morning, who told me that the Duke of
Cumberland and his party are still active and very sanguine. Madame de
Lieven is in all his confidence, who, out of hatred to the Duke, would do
anything to contribute to his overthrow. The Duke of Cumberland tells her
everything, and makes her a medium of communication with the Huskisson
party, who, being animated by similar sentiments towards the Duke, the
Tories think would gladly join them in making a party when the way is clear
for them. The Chancellor went to Windsor on Sunday, and on to
Strathfieldsaye at night, where he arrived at three in the morning. Yesterday
the Duke came to town, but called at Windsor on his way. Dawson,
however, told me that he believed the Duke in his interview on Friday had
settled everything with the King, and had received most positive assurances
from him that no further difficulties should be made; but it is quite
impossible to trust him.

March 4th, 1829
Nothing could exceed the consternation which prevailed yesterday
about this Catholic business. The advocates of the Bill and friends of
Government CATHOLIC RELIEF BILL. were in indescribable alarm, and not without
good cause. All yesterday it was thought quite uncertain whether the Duke’s
resignation would not take place, and the Chancellor himself said that
nothing was more likely than that they should all go out. On Sunday the
King sent for the Chancellor; he went, and had an audience in which the
King pretended that he had not been made aware of all the provisions of the
Bill, that the securities did not satisfy him, and that he could not consent to
it. The Chancellor could do nothing with him; so instead of returning to
town he went on to Strathfieldsaye, where the Duke was gone to receive the
Judges. There he arrived at three in the morning, had a conference of two
hours with the Duke, and returned to town quite exhausted, to be in the
House of Lords at ten in the morning. The Duke called at Windsor on his
way to town on Monday, and had a conversation with the King, in which he
told him it was now impossible for him to recede, and that if his Majesty
made any more difficulties he must instantly resign. The King said he
thought he would not desert him under any circumstances, and tried in vain
to move him, which not being able to do, he said that he must take a day to
consider his final determination, and would communicate it. This he did
yesterday afternoon, and he consented to let the Bill go on. There was a
Cabinet in the morning, and another in the evening, the latter about the
details of the Bill, for Francis Leveson and Doherty were both present.
I met Lord Grey at dinner, and in the evening at Brookes’ had a great
deal of conversation with Scarlett, Duncannon, and Spring Rice. They are
all much alarmed, and think the case full of difficulties, not only from the
violence and wavering of the King, but from the great objections which so
many people have to the alteration of the elective franchise. Duncannon
says nothing shall induce him to support it, and he would rather defeat the
whole measure than consent to it; Spring Rice, on the contrary, is ready to
swallow anything to get Emancipation. The object of the anti-Catholics is to
take advantage of this disunion and of the various circumstances which
throw difficulties in the way of Government, and they think, by availing
themselves of them dexterously, they will be able to defeat the measure.
They all seem to think that the Oxford election has been attended with most

prejudicial effects to the cause. It has served for an argument to the
Cumberland faction with the King, and has influenced his Majesty very
much.
Huskisson made a speech last night which must put an end to any
hopes of assistance to the Opposition from him and his party, which it is
probable they looked to before, and I dare say the Duke of Cumberland has
held out such hopes to the King. 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 100,000 ℓ . 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 those next four days
to come would be the most important 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 intriguing 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.

March 5th, 1829
Great alarm again yesterday because the CATHOLIC RELIEF BILL. Duke, the
Chancellor, and Peel went down to Windsor again. Dined at Prince
Lieven’s. In the evening we learned that everything was settled—that as
soon as the King found the Duke would really leave him unless he gave
way, he yielded directly, and that if the Duke had told him so at first he
would not have made all this bother. The Duke of Cumberland was there (at

Lieven’s), but did not stay long. I sat next to Matuscewitz (the Russian who
is come over on a special mission to assist Lieven), and asked him if he did
not think we were a most extraordinary people, and seeing all that goes on,
as he must do, without any prejudices about persons or things, if it was not
marvellous to behold the violence which prevailed in the Catholic
discussion. He owned that it was inconceivable, and, notwithstanding all he
had heard and read of our history for some years past, he had no idea that so
much rage and animosity could have been manifested and that the anti-
Popery spirit was still so vigorous. The day, however, is at last arrived, and
to-night the measure will be introduced. But the Duke of Cumberland and
his faction by no means abandon all hopes of being able to throw over the
Bill in its progress, and they will leave no stone unturned to effect their
purpose and to work on the King’s mind while it is going on.

March 6th, 1829
Peel brought on the Catholic question last night in a speech of four
hours, and said to be far the best he ever made. It is full of his never-failing
fault, egotism, but certainly very able, plain, clear, and statesmanlike, and
the peroration very eloquent. The University of Oxford should have been
there in a body to hear the member they have rejected and him whom they
have chosen in his place. The House was crammed to suffocation, and the
lobby likewise. The cheering was loud and frequent, and often burst upon
the impatient listener without. I went to Brookes’ and found them all just
come from the House, full of satisfaction at Peel’s speech and the liberality
of the measure, and in great admiration of Murray’s. The general
disposition seemed to be to support both the Bills, and they argued justly
who said that those who would have supported the whole measure if it had
been in one Bill ought not to take advantage of there being two to oppose
the one they dislike. The part that is the most objectionable is making the
measure so far prospective (‘hereafter to be elected’) as to exclude
O’Connell from Clare, more particularly after the decision of the
Committee in his favour. Six weeks ago Mrs. Arbuthnot told me that it was
intended to exclude him, but I did not believe her. It seemed to me too
improbable, and I never thought more about it. If they persist in this it is
nothing short of madness, and I agree with Spring Rice, who said last night

that instead of excluding him you should pay him to come into Parliament,
and rather buy a seat for him than let him remain out. If they keep him out it
can only be from wretched motives of personal spite, and to revenge
themselves on him for having compelled them to take the course they have
adopted. The imprudence of this exception is obvious, for when pacification
is your object, and to heal old wounds your great desire, why begin by
opening new ones and by exasperating the man who has the greatest power
of doing mischief and creating disturbance and discontent in Ireland? It is
desirable to reconcile the Irish to the measures of disfranchisement, and to
allow as much time as possible to elapse before the new system comes into
practical operation. By preventing O’Connell from taking his seat his
wrongs are identified with those of the disfranchised freeholders. He will
have every motive for exasperating the public mind and exciting universal
dissatisfaction, and there will be another Clare election, and a theatre for the
display of every angry passion which interest or revenge can possibly put in
action. It is remarkable that attacks, I will not say upon the Church, but
upon Churchmen, are now made in both Houses with much approbation.
The Oxford parsons behaved so abominably at the election that they have
laid themselves open to the severest strictures, and last night Lord
Wharncliffe in one House and Murray in the other commented on the
general conduct of Churchmen at this crisis with a severity which DIVISION ON
THE CATHOLIC RELIEF BILL. was by no means displeasing except to the bishops. I
am convinced that very few years will elapse before the Church will really
be in danger. People will grow tired of paying so dearly for so bad an
article.

March 8th, 1829
Yesterday the list came out of those who had voted on the Catholic
question, by which it appeared that several people had voted against the
Government (particularly all the Lowthers) who were expected to vote with
them, and of course this will be a test by which the Duke’s strength and
absoluteness may be tried, so much so that it is very generally thought that
if he permits them to vote with impunity he will lose the question. It was
said in the evening that Lowther and Birkett had resigned, but Lord
Aberdeen, whom I met at dinner, said they had not at five o’clock yesterday

evening. It is, I think, impossible for the Duke to excuse anybody who votes
against him or stays away. Dined at Agar Ellis’s and met Harrowbys,
Stanleys, Aberdeen, &c. Lord Harrowby thought Peel’s speech extremely
able and judicious. He said that Lord Eldon had asserted that Mr. Pitt’s
opinions had been changed on this question, which was entirely false, for he
had been much more intimate with Mr. Pitt than Lord Eldon ever was, and
had repeatedly discussed the question with him, and had never found the
slightest alteration in his sentiments. He had deprecated bringing it on
because at that moment he was convinced that it would have driven the
King mad and raised a prodigious ferment in England. He talked a great
deal of Fox and Pitt, and said that the natural disposition of the former was
to arbitrary power and that of the latter to be a reformer, so that
circumstances drove each into the course the other was intended for by
nature. Lord North’s letter to Fox when he dismissed him in 1776 was, ‘The
King has ordered a new commission of the Treasury to be made out, in
which I do not see your name.’ How dear this cost him and what an
influence that note may have had on the affairs of the country and on Fox’s
subsequent life! They afterwards talked of the ‘Cateatonenses’ written by
Canning, Frere, and G. Ellis. Lady Morley has a copy, which I am to see.[4]
[4] [The ‘Musæ Cateatonenses,’ a burlesque narrative of a supposed expedition of Mr. George
Legge to Cateaton Street in search of a Swiss chapel. Nothing can be more droll. The only copy I
have seen is still at Saltram. This jeu d’esprit (which fills a volume) was composed by Canning and
his friends one Easter recess they spent at Ashbourne.]

March 9th, 1829
It was reported last night that there had been a compromise with
Lowther, who is to retain his seat and to vote for the Bill in all its other
stages. But he dined at Crockford’s, and told somebody there that he had
tendered his resignation and had received no answer. I do not understand
this indecision; they must deprive those who will not support them
thoroughly. ‘Thorough,’ as Laud and Strafford used to say, must be their
word.
Evening.—I asked Lord Bathurst to-day if Lowther, &c., were out, and
he said nothing had been done about it, that there was plenty of time.
Afterwards met Mrs. Arbuthnot in the Park, and turned back with her. She

was all against their being turned out, from which I saw that they are to stay
in. We met Gosh, and I walked with them to the House of Commons. We
renewed the subject, and he said that he had been just as much as I could be
for the adoption of strong measures, but that the great object was to carry
the Bill, and if the Duke did not act with the greatest prudence and caution
it would still be lost. He hinted that the difficulties with the King are still
great, and that he is in a state of excitement which alarms them lest he
should go mad. It is pretty clear that the Duke cannot venture to turn them
out. In the meantime the Duke of Cumberland continues at work. Lord
Bathurst told me that he went to Windsor on Saturday, that he had assured
the King that great alarm prevailed in London, that the people were very
violent, and that the Duke had been hissed by the mob in going to the
House of Lords, all of which of course he believes. The Duke is very
unwell. I think matters do not look at all well, and I am alarmed.

March 11th, 1829
The Duke was much better yesterday, went CATHOLIC RELIEF BILL. to the
House, and made a very good and stirring speech in answer to Lord
Winchelsea, who disgusted all his own party by announcing himself an
advocate for reform in Parliament. It is now clear that Lowther, &c., are not
to quit their places unless something fresh occurs. The reason supposed is
that the King supports them, and that the Duke does not venture to insist on
their dismissal. The real reason is that he has got an idea that the Whigs
want to make him quarrel with his old friends in order to render him more
dependent upon them, and he is therefore anxious (as he thinks he can) to
carry through the measure without quarrelling with anybody, so that he will
retain the support of the Tories and show the Whigs that he can do without
them, a notion which is unfounded, besides being both unwise and illiberal.
He has already given some persons to understand that they must support
him on this question, and now he is going to grant a dispensation to others,
nor is there any necessity for quarrelling with anybody. Lowther himself
evidently felt that he could not hold his office and oppose the measure, and
consequently resigned. The Duke might accept his resignation with a very
friendly explanation on the subject; eventually he would be certain to join
Government again, for to what other party could he betake himself? These

great Tory borough-mongering Lords have no taste for opposition.
Arbuthnot told my father that this was his feeling, and when I told Mrs.
Arbuthnot what a bad moral effect the Duke’s lenity had, she said, ‘Oh, you
hear that from the Opposition.’ Last night in his speech, when he said he
had the cordial support of his Majesty, he turned round with energy to the
Duke of Cumberland. Several Peers upon one pretext or another have
withdrawn the support they had intended to give to the Duke’s Bill.
Fourteen Irish bishops are coming over in a body to petition the King
against this Bill, and most foolish they. The English bishops may by
possibility be sincere and disinterested in their opposition (not that I believe
they are), but nobody will ever believe that the Irish think of anything but
their scandalous revenues. The thing must go; the only question is when and
how. The Kent petition to the King is to be presented, I believe, by Lords
Winchelsea and Bexley; they would not entrust it to Peel. Lord W. wanted
to march down to Windsor at the head of 25,000 men.

March 14th, 1829
Arbuthnot told the Duke what was said about not turning out the
refractory members, and he replied, ‘I have undertaken this business, and I
am determined to go through with it. Nobody knows the difficulties I have
in dealing with my royal master, and nobody knows him so well as I do. I
will succeed, but I am as in a field of battle, and I must fight it out my own
way.’ This would be very well if there were not other motives mixed up
with this—jealousy of the Whigs and a desire to keep clear of them, and
quarrel with them again when this is over. Herries told Hyde Villiers that
their policy was conservative, that of the Whigs subversive, and that they
never could act together. All false, for nobody’s policy is subversive who
has much to lose, and the Whigs comprise the great mass of property and a
great body of the aristocracy of the country. Nobody seems to doubt that the
Bill will pass. The day before yesterday the Duke of Newcastle went to
Windsor and had an audience. Lord Bathurst told me that they had reason to
believe his Grace had told the King his own sentiments on the Catholic
question, but that the King had made no answer. But as nobody was present
they could not depend on the truth of this (which they had from his Majesty

himself, of course), and he begged me to find out what account the Duke
gave of it.

March 15th, 1829
The Duke of Newcastle was with the King an hour and a half or two
hours. After he had presented his petitions he pulled out a paper, which he
read to the King. His Majesty made him no answer, and desired him if he
had any other communications to make to him to send them through the
Duke of Wellington. I dare say this is true, not because he says so, but
because there has been no notice taken of the Duke’s visit in any of the
newspapers. They now talk of thirteen bishops, and probably more, PERSONAL
HABITS OF GEORGE IV. voting with Government. I suppose the majority will be
very large.

March 16th to 17th, 1829
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 Ellenborough,
he had let me go, that Ellenborough might not be the only man not invited,
and ‘he would be damned if Ellenborough 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 offence, 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 question, 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 destroyed, and at last Lady
Conyngham prevailed on him to agree to an arrangement by which they
wait on him on alternate days. The service is still most severe, as on the
days they are in waiting their labours 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.

March 18th, 1829
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 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 favour, 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 everything, 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. Returned to town at night, and heard of Sadler’s speech[5] and
read it. It is certainly very clever, but better as reported than as it was
delivered. He sent the report to the ‘Morning Journal’ himself, and added
some things and omitted others, and thereby improved it. He is sixty-seven

years old, and it is his maiden speech; certainly very remarkable and
indicative of much talent. Lord Harrowby told me he heard it, and was
greatly struck by it.
[5] [Mr. Sadler, who had never sat in Parliament before, was returned by the Duke of Newcastle
at this time for the express purpose of opposing the Catholic Relief Bill, which he did with
considerable ability.]

March 19th, 1829
Last night the debate ended, with a very excellent DEBATE ON THE CATHOLIC
BILL. speech from Robert Grant,[6] and a speech from Lord Palmerston which
astonished everybody. The Attorney-General was violent and brutal, and
Peel’s reply very good; he was bursting with passion, but restrained himself.
I met Tierney, and told him that there was great disappointment that he had
not answered Sadler. He said he could not speak for coughing, that Sadler’s
speech was clever, but over-rated, nothing like so good as they talked of.
Robert Grant’s was very good indeed, the best for matter; Palmerston’s the
most brilliant, ‘an imitation of Canning, and not a bad one.’ Though the
Opposition gained eight in this division, they are disappointed and
disheartened, and will make but little fight on the other stages (as it is
thought). Nine bishops are to vote. The meeting at Lambeth took place the
day before yesterday, but it came to nothing. They separated agreeing to
meet again, and in the meantime that each should take his own line. Tierney
talked of the Duke’s management of this business with great admiration, as
did Lord Durham last night in the same strain; but after all what was it but
the resolution of secresy (which I think was a most wise and judicious one)?
for he did nothing but keep the secret. However, the thing has been well
imagined and well executed. Tierney thinks Peel will resign when it is all
over, and at his father’s death will be made a Peer. I should not wonder; he
must be worn to death with the torrents of abuse and invective with which
his old friends assail him on every occasion. I presume that if he could have
anticipated their conduct he would not have been so civil to them in the
beginning, and would have taken another turn altogether; it would have
been better for him. Lady Worcester told me to-day what adds to many
other proofs that the Duke is a very hard man; he takes no notice of any of
his family; he never sees his mother, has only visited her two or three times

in the last few years; and has not now been to see Lady Anne, though she
has been in such affliction for the death of her only son, and he passes her
door every time he goes to Strathfieldsaye. He is well with Lady
Maryborough, though they quarrelled after Lord M. was driven from the
Cabinet; Lord Wellesley is seriously affronted with him at the little
consideration the Duke shows for him, and for having shown him no
confidence in all this business, especially as the Catholic question was the
only political difference that existed between them. He is a very
extraordinary man certainly, and with many contradictions in his character;
in him, however, they are so much more apparent than in any other man, for
he is always before the world—all his actions, his motives, and even his
thoughts.
[6] [Robert Grant, Esq., M.P., brother of Mr. Charles Grant. He was afterwards appointed
Governor of Bombay.]

March 21st, 1829, at night
This morning the Duke fought a duel with Lord Winchelsea. Nothing
could equal the astonishment 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 incident of the
handkerchief[7]), 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 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 offence, in which he says that if the Duke will
deny that his allegations are true he will apologise. 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 DUEL OF THE DUKE
AND LORD WINCHELSEA. Hardinge went up to Lords Winchelsea 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 leading 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 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 honour 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 cura that he
should have treated him and his letter with the contempt they merited; it
was a great error in judgment, 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 descend to the level of Lord Winchelsea,
when he might, without subjecting himself to any imputation derogatory to

his honour, 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?’
[7] [The incident of the handkerchief is related below, p. 198 (March 29th, 1829).]

I met the Bishop of Oxford in the Park this morning; he said nine
bishops, and probably ten, would vote for the Bill. He said he was not at the
meeting at Lambeth, but the Archbishop sent for him, and despatched him
to the Duke with an account of their proceedings. The Archbishop
summoned the bishops to consult upon the course they should pursue, and
see if there was any chance of their acting with unanimity. Finding this was
not possible, they resolved that each should take his own line; and a
proposal to address the King, which was urged by one or two of the most
violent (he did not name them), was overruled. The anti-Catholic papers
and men lavish the most extravagant encomiums on Wetherell’s speech, and
call it ‘the finest oration ever delivered in the House of Commons,’ ‘the best
since the second Philippic.’ He was drunk, they say. The Speaker said ‘the
only lucid interval he had was that between his waistcoat and his breeches.’
When he speaks he unbuttons his braces, and in his vehement action his
breeches fall down and his waistcoat runs up, so that there is a great
interregnum. He is half mad, eccentric, ingenious, with great and varied
information and a coarse, vulgar mind, delighting in ribaldry and abuse,
besides being an enthusiast. The first time he distinguished himself was in
Watson’s trial, when he and Copley were his counsel, and both made very
able speeches. He was then a trading lawyer and politician, till the Queen
came over, when he made a very powerful speech in the House of THE KING ON
THE DUEL. Commons, full of research, in favour of inserting her name in the
Liturgy. He was then engaged by Chancellor Eldon for the Court, soon after
made Solicitor-General, much abused for ratting, became Attorney-General,
and resigned when Canning became Minister. He was restored when the
Duke was made Prime Minister, and now he will have to retire again.

March 26th, 1829

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 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. It is curious that the man who threw the bottle at
Lord Wellesley in Dublin (and who is a Protestant fanatic) has been lurking
constantly about the House of Lords, so much so that it was thought right to
apprise Peel of it, and the police have been desired in consequence to keep a
strict watch over him, and to take care that he does no mischief. The Duke
after the duel sent Lord Melville to the Duke of Montrose with a message
that his son-in-law had behaved very much like a gentleman. The women,
particularly of course Lady Jersey, have been very ridiculous, affecting
nervousness and fine feeling, though they never heard of the business till
some hours after it was over. Mrs. Arbuthnot was not so foolish but made
very light of it all, which was in better sense and better taste.
M—— told me two days ago that, although he is more quiet, the King
is not at all reconciled to the Catholic question. His Majesty was very much
annoyed at his speech the other day, having always hoped that he was at
heart too indifferent about it to take a decided line or express publicly a
strong opinion. It is supposed that either Sugden or Alderson will be
Solicitor-General. O’Connell has done himself great credit by his
moderation in the Committee. Grattan wanted to move an amendment
omitting the words by which O’Connell is excluded from taking his seat for
Clare, when Rice and Duncannon begged him to withdraw it, and said they
were charged with the expression of O’Connell’s wish that his individual
case should not be thought of, as he would not have it be any impediment to
the success of the measure. This, of course, greatly annoys those who have

inveighed against him, and who have always contended that he only wished
for confusion, and would be very sorry to see the question settled.
The other day Jack Lawless[8] called on Arbuthnot to ask him some
question about the Deccan prize money, in which a brother of his has an
interest. He entered upon politics, was very obsequious in his manner,
extravagant in praise of the Duke, quite shocked that he should have fought
a duel, and said, ‘Sir, we are twelve of us here, and not one but what would
fight for him any day in the week.’ He said that some years ago, when he
heard the Duke speak, he was distressed at his hesitation, but that now he
spoke better than anyone; that in the Lords he heard Eldon, and Plunket,
and Grey, and then up got the Duke and answered everybody, and spoke
better than they all. Arbuthnot says he was bowing and scraping, and all
humility and politeness, with none of the undergrowl of the Association.
[8] [A prominent member of the Catholic Association in Dublin.]

March 26th, 1829, at night
Just met M——, who had returned that moment from Windsor, where
he had left the King in such an ill humour that he would not stay and dine
there. The Duke of Cumberland never goes there without unsettling his
mind, and yesterday evening Lord Mansfield LORD ELDON’S INTERVIEW WITH THE
KING. had been to the Castle and had an audience. Lord Eldon prevails on all
these Peers to exercise their right and demand audiences. Lord Mansfield
had no petition to present, and only went to remonstrate about the Catholic
question and tell the King that all the Protestants looked to him to save
them from the impending danger. The King declares he only listens to what
they say, and replies that he must leave everything to his Ministers; but it is
impossible for him to listen (and not talk himself) for an hour and a quarter
together. He is very angry at the Bishop of Winchester’s speech, and at the
declaration in favour of the Bill by both of the brothers.[9] He accused M
—— of having influenced the Bishop, which he denied, and told him that
he would not have been biassed by anybody. The King still is in hopes that
the Bill will not pass, and said that the Ministers had only a majority of five,
and with that they would not carry it through. M—— replied that they had
above fifty, and after such a majority as there had been in the Commons it

must pass. All this he received as sulkily as possible, and it is clear that if he
dared, and if he could, he would still defeat the measure. His dislike to it is
the opposition of a spoiled child, founded on considerations purely personal
and selfish and without any reason whatever.
[9] [The two Sumners. Dr. John Bird Sumner (afterwards Archbishop of Canterbury) had been
raised to the see of Chester in 1828. They owed their advancement to the especial favour of George
IV. The bishop adverted to in the next sentence was the Bishop of Winchester.]

March 29th, 1829, at night
Dined at Lady Sandwich’s, and met Madame de Lieven, who is grown
very gracious, craving for news, and probably very malignant. Lieven told
me (which she did not) that Lord Eldon was with the King yesterday for
four hours. She confirmed it after dinner, and said that Halford had told her,
but added that he had done no harm.[10] Lieven also told me that Stratford
Canning is coming home, and Robert Gordon going to Constantinople. He
is a dull, heavy man, and not able, I should think, to cope with the Turkish
Ministers, if they are (as the Duke says) the ablest diplomatists in Europe. I
don’t know why Stratford Canning is coming home, whether nolens or
volens.
[10] [This was the celebrated interview related in Lord Eldon’s ‘Memoirs’ vol. iii., when,
however, the King gave Lord E. a very erroneous account of the transaction, subsequently corrected
by Sir Robert Peel in his ‘Memoirs.’]

I have, I see, alluded to Lord Winchelsea’s handkerchief story,[11] but
have not mentioned the circumstances, 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.’ Accordingly the next day he sent it to
Lord Winchelsea with his compliments. Lord Winchelsea receiving the
handkerchief and the message, and finding it marked W, 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 Holland for an explanation. This his Grace did,
when the matter 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.[12]
[11] [Supra, p. 192 (March 21st, 1829).]
[12] [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.]

April 4th, 1829
On the third reading of the Catholic Bill in the House of Commons
Sadler failed, and Palmerston made a speech like one of Canning’s. The Bill
has been two nights in the House of Lords. They go on with it this morning,
and will divide this evening. The Chancellor made DEBATE ON THE CATHOLIC BILL.
a very fine speech last night, and the Bishop of Oxford spoke very well the
night before, but the debate has been dull on the whole; the subject is
exhausted. The House of Lords was very full, particularly of women; every
fool in London thinks it necessary to be there. It is only since last year that
the steps of the throne have been crowded with ladies; formerly one or two
got in, who skulked behind the throne, or were hid in Tyrwhitt’s box, but
now they fill the whole space, and put themselves in front with their large
bonnets, without either fear or shame.

April 5th, 1829
The question was put at a little before twelve last night, and carried by
105—217 to 112 (a greater majority than the most sanguine expected)—
after a splendid speech from Lord Grey and a very good one from Lord
Plunket. Old Eldon was completely beat, and could make no fight at all; his
speech was wretched, they say, for I did not hear it. This tremendous defeat

will probably put an end to anything like serious opposition; they will
hardly rally again.
I dined at Chesterfield House, but nobody came to dinner. Chesterfield
and his party were all at the House of Lords. I found myself almost alone
with Vesey Fitzgerald, with whom I had much talk after dinner. He said that
it would be a long time before all the circumstances and all the difficulties
relating to their proceedings were known, but when they were it would be
seen how great had been the latter, how curious the former; that the day the
Chancellor, the Duke, and Peel were with the King they actually were out
(all of which I knew), and that he believes if the other party could have
made a Government with a chance of standing, out they would have gone;
but that it was put to them (this I did not know), and they acknowledged
they could not. They held consultations on the subject, and the man they
principally relied on was the Duke of Richmond; they meant he should be
either First Lord of the Treasury or Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland. Lord
Winchelsea said to Ellenborough, ‘Why, he speaks better than the Duke of
Wellington any day.’ He happens to have his wits, such as they are, about
him, and has been quick and neat in one or two little speeches, though he
spoke too often, and particularly in his attack on the Bishop of Oxford the
other night. Last year, on the Wool question, he did very well, but all the
details were got up for him by George Bentinck,[13] who took the trouble.
Besides, his fortune consists in great measure of wool, he lives in the
country, is well versed in rural affairs and the business of the quarter
sessions, has a certain calibre of understanding, is prejudiced, narrow-
minded, illiterate, and ignorant, good-looking, good-humoured, and
unaffected, tedious, prolix, unassuming, and a duke. There would not have
been so much to say about him if they had not excited an idea in the minds
of some people of making him Prime Minister and successor to the Duke of
Wellington.
[13] [It deserves remark that Lord George Bentinck was thus early employing his singular
talents in mastering details, although he took no conspicuous part in politics until the proposal for the
repeal of the Corn Law in 1845.]

Vesey told me that Dawson’s speech at Derry very nearly overturned
the whole design. The King heard of it the day of a Council at Windsor
(which I well remember). The Chancellor was with him for a long time, but
it was almost impossible to persuade the King that Dawson knew nothing of

the intention of the Government, and that his speech was not made in
concert with Peel and the Duke. This it was which caused them such
excessive annoyance, because it raised difficulties which well-nigh
prevented the accomplishment of the design. It must be owned that the King
might well believe this, and although it is very certain that Dawson knew
nothing, and that his making such a speech ought to have been a proof that
he was in ignorance, it will always be believed that he was aware of the
intended measure, and that his speech was made with the Duke’s
concurrence. It is curious enough that his opinion had been long changed,
and that he had intended to pronounce his recantation when Brownlow did,
but as Brownlow got the start of him he would not. For two years after this
he persevered in the old course, and when Canning came in, and the
Catholic question was the great field on which he was to be fought, THE BILL
IN JEOPARDY. Dawson reverted vigorously to his old opinions, and spoke
vehemently against emancipation. Such is party!
The circumstances that Vesey talked of are in fact pretty well known or
guessed at, nor has there ever been any secret as to the main fact of the
King’s opposition and dislike to the measure. He told me that after Eldon’s
visit of four hours the Duke remonstrated, and told the King what great
umbrage it gave his Ministers to see and hear of these long and numerous
interviews with their opponents. The King declared that he said nothing and
that nothing passed calculated to annoy them, which they none of them
believed, but of course could make no reply to.

April 8th, 1829
I have mentioned above (March 4th[14]), p. 180, the Chancellor, the
Duke, and Peel going to the King, and the alarm that prevailed here. That
day the Catholic question was in great jeopardy. They went to tell the King
that unless he would give them his real, efficient support, and not throw his
indirect influence into the opposite scale, they would resign. He refused to
give them that support; they placed their resignations in his hands and came
away. The King then sent to Eldon, and asked him if he would undertake to
form a Government. He deliberated (then it was that it was question of the
Duke of Richmond being First Lord or Lord-Lieutenant), but eventually

said he could not undertake it. On his refusal the King yielded, and the Bill
went on; but if Eldon had accepted, the Duke and his colleagues would
have been out, and God knows what would have happened. It was, of
course, of all these matters that the King talked to Eldon in the long
interview they had the other day. He is very sulky at the great majority in
the House of Lords, as I knew he would be.
[14] [It was on the 3rd of March that this interview took place, as related by Sir R. Peel himself
in his ‘Memoir’ (vol. i. p. 343). The King asked his Ministers to explain the details of the measure
they proposed to bring in. They informed his Majesty that it would be necessary to modify in the case
of the Roman Catholics that part of the oath of supremacy which relates to the ecclesiastical
jurisdiction and supremacy of the Pope. To this the King said he could not possibly consent. Upon
this Mr. Peel and his colleagues informed his Majesty that they must resign. His Majesty accepted the
resignations, and the Ministers returned to London (after an audience of five hours) under the full
persuasion that the Government was dissolved. In the interval some attempt was made to form a
Protestant Cabinet; but on the evening of the following day, the 4th of March, the King wrote a letter
to the Duke of Wellington, informing him that his Majesty anticipated so much difficulty in the
attempt to form another Administration that he could not dispense with his Ministers’ services, and
that they were at liberty to proceed with the measures of which notice had been given in Parliament.]

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 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 newspapers?’ 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.’ Last night old Eldon got a
dressing again from the Chancellor.

April 9th, 1829
Met O’Connell at dinner yesterday at William Ponsonby’s. The only
Irish (agitators) were he and O’Gorman Mahon; ——, he said, was too
great a blackguard, and he would not invite him. O’Connell arrived from
Ireland that day; O’CONNELL AT DINNER. there is nothing remarkable in his
manner, appearance, or conversation, but he seems lively, well bred, and at
his ease. I asked him after dinner ‘whether Catholics had not taken the oath
of supremacy till it was coupled with the declaration;’ he said, ‘in many
instances in the reigns of Elizabeth, James, and Charles, because at that
time it was considered to apply to the civil supremacy of the Pope only, and
that the Government admitted of that interpretation of it, but that no
Catholic could take it now, because that construction is never given to the
oath.’ Duncannon told me that O’Connell has no wish to be in Parliament,
that he makes so much money by his profession that it is a great loss to him
to attend Parliament at all. What they want is a compromise with Vesey
Fitzgerald, by which he may be admitted to take his seat in this Parliament
on an understanding that he will not oppose Vesey in the next; not that I see
how that is to be done, except by an Act of Parliament (which would never
pass) in his favour. Besides, the Duke detests him, and Vesey likewise. They
cannot forgive him for all he has done and all he has made them do.
O’Gorman, the secretary of the Catholic Association, appears a heavy, civil,
vulgar man. I sat next to Stanley, who told me a story which amused me.
Macintosh, in the course of the recent debates, went one day to the House
of Commons at eleven in the morning to take a place. They were all taken
on the benches below the gangway, and on asking the doorkeeper how they
happened to be all taken so early, he said, ‘Oh, sir, there is no chance of
getting a place, for Colonel Sibthorpe sleeps at a tavern close by, and comes
here every morning by eight o’clock and takes places for all the saints.’

April 13th, 1829

On Friday last the Catholic Bill was read a third time, after a very dull
debate. Lord Eldon attempted to rally, and made a long and wretched
speech which lasted two hours. Nobody spoke well. The Duke in his reply
dropped all the terms of courtesy and friendship he had hitherto used in
speaking of old Eldon, and broke off with him entirely. He is disgusted at
his opposition out of doors, and at his having been the constant adviser of
the Duke of Cumberland and all the foolish Lords who have been pestering
the King at Windsor; and he is acquainted with all his tricks and underhand
proceedings, probably with more of them than we know of. He thanked the
Opposition for their support—thanks which they well merit from him—but
of course nobody is satisfied. He was before accused of ingratitude in never
taking notice of their conduct, and even it is said that he gave them to
understand he had no more need of their services, and wished to make them
his bow. I don’t believe he meant any such thing; he intended to thank them
simply, though it is probably true that he does not wish to continue in
alliance with them, and is anxious to see the Tories put themselves under his
orders again. On Saturday he sent the commission down to Windsor for the
King’s signature, with other papers as a matter of course; he would not go
himself, that there might be no fresh discussion between them.
I went on Friday morning to the Old Bailey to hear the trials,
particularly that of the women for the murder of the apprentices; the mother
was found guilty, and will be hanged to-day—has been by this time.[15] The
case exhibited a shocking scene of wretchedness and poverty, such as ought
not to exist in any community, especially in one which pretends to be so
flourishing and happy as this is. It is, I suppose, one case of many which
may be found in this town, graduating through various stages of misery and
vice. These wretched beings were described to be in the lowest state of
moral and physical degradation, with scarcely rags to cover them, food
barely sufficient to keep them alive, and working eighteen or nineteen hours
a day, without being permitted any relaxation, or even the privilege of going
to church on Sunday. I never heard more disgusting details than this
THEATRICAL FUND DINNER. trial elicited, or a case which calls more loudly for an
investigation into the law and the system under which such proceedings are
possible. Poverty, and vice, and misery must always be found in a
community like ours, but such frightful contrasts between the excess of
luxury and splendour and these scenes of starvation and brutality ought not

to be possible; but I am afraid there is more vice, more misery and penury
in this country than in any other, and at the same time greater wealth. The
contrasts are too striking, and such an unnatural, artificial, and unjust state
of things neither can nor ought to be permanent. I am convinced that before
many years elapse these things will produce some great convulsion.
[15] [Two wretched women named Hibner were tried, and one of them convicted for the murder
of a parish apprentice named Francis Colepitts by savage ill-treatment. The elder prisoner was found
guilty and executed on the 13th of April. No such concourse of people had assembled to witness an
execution since that of Fauntleroy. The details of the crime were horrible, and had excited great
sympathy for the victim amongst all classes.—Ann. Regist. for 1829, Chronicle, p. 71.]

After the Old Bailey I went and dined at the Covent Garden Theatrical
Fund dinner. The Duke of Clarence 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,’ &c.,
on which Fawcett, who sat opposite, 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. Francis Leveson sat on his right, Codrington on his left, and
Lawless the agitator just opposite; he is a pale, thin, common-looking little
man, and has not at all the air of a patriot orator and agitator.

May 14th, 1829
I have been at Newmarket for three weeks, and have had no time to
write, nor has anything particular occurred. The King came to town, and
had a levee and drawing-room, the former of which was very numerously,
the other shabbily attended. At the levee he was remarkably civil to 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 fellow! 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 authorise 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 interior 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 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 neighbourhood (being on the alert to pick up and retail
all he can for the King’s amusement), has made himself necessary, 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, LADY CONYNGHAM.
who hate him for his meddling, mischievous 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
symptom of approaching decay, and that the King thinks so himself.

In the meantime the influence of Knighton and that of Lady
Conyngham 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 enormous. The King continues to heap all kinds of presents upon
her, and she lives at his expense; they do not possess a servant; even Lord
Conyngham’s valet de chambre is not properly their servant. They all have
situations in the King’s household, 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 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—
every base, low, and unmanly propensity, with selfishness, avarice, and a
life of petty intrigue and mystery.

May 16th, 1829
O’Connell attempted to take his seat last night, but the business was
put off till Monday. His case is exceedingly well got up, but too long. There
are many opinions as to his right; many people think he has established it
(though he had failed to do so), that a Bill ought to be brought in to enable
him to take the new oaths. It was supposed Government would take no part,
but Peel’s speech and the language of some of the Ministers are rather
unfavourable to him. Lord Grey, when he read the case, thought his
argument on the tenth clause of the Bill conclusive, but when he examined
the Bill he thought differently, and that the context gives a different
signification to the words on which O’Connell relies. Tierney thinks
otherwise, and this they debated Bill in hand in Lady Jersey’s room
yesterday morning. O’Connell was in a great fright when he went up to the
table. He got through the necessary forms in the Steward’s office by means

of the Commissioners whom Duncannon provided, and who were, I believe,
Burdett and Ebrington. He ought to be allowed to take his seat, but probably
he will not; it is a very hard case.[16] The Duke of Orleans is come, and his
son, the Duke of Chartres; the latter was at the opera to-night in Prince
Leopold’s box.
[16] [O’Connell was excluded from taking his seat as member for Clare, for which he had been
elected before the passing of the Relief Act, because it was held that he was bound to take the oath
which was required by law at the time of his election, and not the oath imposed on Roman Catholics
by the recent statutes. He presented himself to be sworn at the table of the House of Commons on the
15th of May, and there refused to take the former oath, which was tendered to him by the Clerk. The
House divided 100 to 116 against his admission without taking the oath of supremacy on the 18th;
Mr. O’Connell having previously been heard at the bar in person in support of his claim.]

May 29th, 1829
O’Connell is said to have made a very good speech at the bar of the
House, and produced rather a favourable impression. He has done himself
this good, that whereas it was pretty generally thought that he was likely to
fail in the House of Commons as a speaker, he has now altered that
impression. There is but one opinion as to the wretched feeling of excluding
him, but the saddle is put upon the right horse, and though the Government
are now obliged to enforce the provisions of their own Bill, everybody
knows that the exclusion was the work of the King. O’Connell goes back to
Clare (as he says) sure of his election; there will be a great uproar, but at
present nobody expects any opposition, and all deprecate a contest.
Yesterday the King gave a dinner to the
PRINCESS VICTORIA AT A CHILD’S BALL.
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[17]
and our little Victoria. The Queen was finely dressed, with a ribband 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 Portuguese. 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
accommodate the public, though very desirous of getting money out of their
pockets.
[17] [Donna Maria II. da Gloria, Queen of Portugal, on the abdication of her father, Don Pedro,
succeeded to the throne on the 2nd of May, 1826. She was born on the 4th of April, 1819, and was
consequently but a few weeks older than the Princess Victoria.]

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 Anglesey, ‘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 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.’
The new law appointments have just been announced, and have
created some surprise.[18]
[18] [The Attorney-General, Sir Charles Wetherell, had resigned in consequence of his violent
opposition to the Catholic Relief Bill, and was succeeded by Sir James Scarlett (afterwards Lord
Abinger). The Solicitor-General, Sir Nicholas Conyngham Tindal, was raised on the 9th of June to
the Chief Justiceship of the Common Pleas; and was succeeded in the Solicitorship by Sir Edward
Burtenshaw Sugden (afterwards Lord St. Leonards). The vacancy in the Common Pleas was caused
by the resignation of Sir William Draper Best, who was created Lord Wynford for the purpose of
assisting the Chancellor with the judicial business of the House of Lords.]

June 11th, 1829
I have been at Epsom for a week; the Duke of Grafton, Lords Wilton,
Jersey, and Worcester, Russell, Anson, Irby, and myself took Down Hall for
the races and lived very well. Nothing particular has occurred. Lord and
Lady Ellenborough are separated, and he is supposed to have behaved very
handsomely to her. They say he does not now know the whole story of her
intrigue with Felix Schwarzenberg; that hero is gone to the Russian army.

All the new appointments were declared when I was out of town, and they
excited some surprise and more disapprobation. They have made Best a
Peer, who is poor and has a family, by which another poor peerage will be
added to the list; and he is totally unfit for the situation he is to fill—that of
Deputy-Speaker of the House of Lords, and to assist the Chancellor in
deciding Scotch causes, of which he knows nothing whatever; and as the
Chancellor knows nothing either, the Scotch law is likely to be strangely
administered in that great court of appeal. They would have done better to
have made Alexander[19] a Peer, who is very old, understands Equity Law,
and has no children; but he knows very little of Common Law (which Best
is well versed in), and so they keep him on the bench and put Best on the
Woolsack. Lord Rosslyn is Privy Seal,[20] and Scarlett Attorney-General,
which looks like a leaning towards the Whigs; but then Trench and Lord
Edward Somerset are put into the Ordnance; George Bankes goes back to
the India Board, and Government supports him in his contest at Cambridge
against William Cavendish. This conduct is considered very unhandsome,
LORD PALMERSTON ON FOREIGN AFFAIRS. and Tierney, who was well disposed
towards the Government, told me yesterday that if the Duke did not take
care he thought he would get swamped with such doings, that the way he
went on was neither fish nor flesh, and he would offend more people than
he would conciliate. At present there is no party, and if Government have no
opponents they have no great body of supporters on whom they can depend;
everything is in confusion—party, politics, and all.
[19] [Sir William Alexander, then Lord Chief Baron of the Exchequer. The Court of Exchequer
still retained its Equity jurisdiction.]
[20] [Lord Rosslyn was considered to be a Whig, and Sir James Scarlett was better known for
the Liberal opinions he once professed than for the Tory opinions he afterwards assumed.]

The event of last week was Palmerston’s speech on the Portuguese
question, which was delivered at a late hour and in an empty House, but
which they say was exceedingly able and eloquent. This is the second he
has made this year of great merit. It was very violent against Government.
He has been twenty years in office and never distinguished himself before,
a proof how many accidental circumstances are requisite to bring out the
talents which a man may possess. The office he held was one of dull and
dry detail, and he never travelled out of it. He probably stood in awe of
Canning and others, and was never in the Cabinet; but having lately held

higher situations and having acquired more confidence, and the great men
having been removed from the House of Commons by death or promotion,
he has launched forth, and with astonishing success. Lord Granville told me
he had always thought Palmerston was capable of more than he did, and
had told Canning so, who did not believe it.
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,
contrary 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
influenced by any unkindness to any member of it, or any indifference to
the interests of the turf.’

June 24th, 1829
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[21] 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 advances. 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 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 accomplished. 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. THE
COTTAGE. There was a grand consultation at the Cottage between the King,
Lieven, Esterhazy, 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 according to etiquette the two
Ambassadresses should sit one on each side of him. It was contrived by the
Duke of Cumberland taking out one of them and sitting opposite, by which
means the lovely Thais sat beside him and he was happy.
[21] [George Augustus, sixth Earl of Chesterfield, born in 1805, died in 1866. He married in
1830 Anne, daughter 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.]

June 26th, 1829
I met Tierney and Lord Grey at dinner yesterday; the former wanted to
know what passed about the King’s Speech at the Council at Windsor the
other day. I had heard nothing, not having been at the Council, but it is
believed that the Ministers had put in the Speech a sentence expressive of
satisfaction and sanguine hopes about Ireland, and that at the last moment
the King would not agree to this; for after the Duke’s audience, which
lasted a good while, there was a Cabinet, and it is supposed they knocked
under, for the paragraph about Ireland is cold enough. The Duke of
Cumberland is thought to have had a hand in all this, and to have persuaded
the King to be obstinate. We talked a great deal about the situation of the
Government and the state of the House of Commons, and Tierney thinks
that unless the Duke strengthens himself he will not be able to go on; that
Rosslyn and Scarlett are of little use to him, and what he wants is the
support of those who will bring followers in their train, such as Althorp,

who has extensive connections, enjoys consideration, and would be of real
use to him. There is a strong report that Althorp is to be Chancellor of the
Exchequer, Goulburn Speaker, and Sutton[22] a Peer. At present the
Government is anything but strong, but then there exists no party, nor is
there any man of ability and authority enough to make one. The Duke must
strengthen himself, and have recourse for the purpose either to the Whigs or
to Huskisson and his friends. These latter he detests, and he knows they
hate him and are his bitterest enemies. The Whigs he would not dislike so
much, but the King is averse to have them, and the Duke is beset by his old
suspicion that they want to break up the Tory party and make him
dependent on themselves. At the same time, in taking in Lord Rosslyn and
Scarlett, he has made some advances towards them, though Lord Grey is
displeased at his not having shown him more deference and communicated
to him his intentions about Rosslyn. Lord Rosslyn asked Lord Grey’s
advice as to accepting, and he advised him to take office, explaining at the
same time that he should not pledge himself to support Government, though
he was at present well disposed to do so, and should be still more disposed
when Lord Rosslyn became a part of it. Tierney said it was very lamentable
that there should be such a deficiency of talent in the rising generation, and
remarkable how few clever young men there are now in the House of
Commons. The King did not like Lord Rosslyn’s appointment; he hates all
the Whigs; indeed, he hates the best men of all parties, and likes none but
such as will be subservient to himself. So little public spirit has he, and so
much selfishness, that he would rather his Government was weak than
strong, that they may be the more dependent upon him; though he only
wishes to be powerful in order to exercise the most puerile caprices, gratify
ridiculous resentments, indulge vulgar prejudices, and amass or squander
money; not one great object connected with national glory or prosperity
ever enters his brain. I am convinced he would turn out the Duke to-morrow
if he could see any means of replacing him. I don’t think I mentioned that
when he talked of giving the child’s ball Lady Maria Conyngham said, ‘Oh,
do, it will be so nice to see the two little Queens dancing together’ (the little
Queen of Portugal and the Princess Victoria), at which he was beyond
measure provoked.
[22] [Right Hon. Manners Sutton, Speaker of the House of Commons. He retained that office till
1835, when he was beaten on the great contest with Mr. Abercromby, and raised to the peerage as
Lord Canterbury.]

July 10th, 1829
I dined with the Duke of Wellington yesterday; a very large party for
Mesdames the Duchesse d’Escars and Madame du Cayla; the first is the
widow of the Duc MADAME DU CAYLA. d’Escars, who was Premier Maître
d’Hôtel of Louis XVIII., and who was said to have died of one of the
King’s good dinners, and the joke was, ‘Hier sa Majesté a eu une
indigestion, dont M. le Duc d’Escars est mort.’ Madame du Cayla[23] is
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 countenance 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 king’s mistresses seem to have a rage for pearls; I
remember Madame Narischkin’s were splendid. Madame du Cayla is said
to be very rich and clever.
[23] [Madame du Cayla had been the soi-disant mistress of Louis XVIII., or rather the favourite
of his declining years. ‘Il fallait une Esther,’ to use her own expression, ‘à cet Assuérus.’ She was the
daughter of M. Talon, brought up by Madam Campan, and an early friend of Hortense Beauharnais.
Her marriage to an officer in the Prince de Condé’s army was an unhappy one; and she was left,
deserted by her husband, in straitened circumstances. After the assassination of the Duc de Berry, M.
de la Rochefoucauld, one of the leaders of the ultra-Royalist party, contrived to throw her in the way
of Louis XVIII., in the hope of counteracting the more Liberal influence which M. de Cazes had
acquired over the King. Madame du Cayla became 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 ‘Histoire de la Restauration,’ and Béranger satirised her in the
bitterest of his songs—that which bears the name of ‘Octavie’:—
Sur les coussins où la douleur l’enchaîne
Quel mal, dis-tu, vous fait ce roi des rois?
Vois-le d’un masque enjoliver sa haine
Pour étouffer notre gloire et nos lois.
Vois ce coeur faux, que cherchent tes caresses,
De tous les siens n’aimer que ses aïeux;
Charger de fer les muses vengeresses,
Et par ses moeurs nous révéler ses dieux.
Peins-nous ces feux, qu’en secret tu redoutes,
Quand sur ton sein il cuve son nectar,
Ces feux dont s’indignaient les voûtes
Où plane encor l’aigle du grand César.

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.]

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 matter, 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 dependence, 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 separate yourself from him you will be
nothing and an unhappy one;” and, by God (added the King), I never forgot
that advice, 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 Navarino. 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 WELLINGTON’S
ANECDOTES OF GEORGE IV. ignorant of the instructions 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 maritime force yours ought to be superior
to all others.” This advice he did not like; I saw this, and he said,
“Oh, the Emperor of Russia is a man of honour,” 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 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 matter 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 discussions) I went
down to him and showed him the petition, and told him that 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 hazardous,
perilous, or uncertain; on the contrary, he is all for braving
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 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 suffers 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
Cumberland, 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 apologise 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 DUKES OF WELLINGTON AND
CUMBERLAND. 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 apologise 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
bowed 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 Cumberland had
just written (as Grand Master of the Orange 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
replied, ‘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.
In the meantime the Duke of Cumberland, instead of returning to
Berlin, has sent for the Duchess and his son, and means to take up his abode
in this country, in hopes of prevailing upon the King to dismiss his
Ministers and make a Government under his own auspices; but however
weak the Government may be, he will not succeed, for the King has an
habitual reliance upon the Duke [of Wellington] which overcomes the
mortification and dislike he feels at being dependent upon him; and,
besides, the materials do not exist out of which a Government could be
formed that would have the support of the House of Commons. The great
want which this Administration experiences is that of men of sufficient
information and capacity to direct the complicated machinery of our trade
and finances and adjust our colonial differences. Huskisson, Grant, and
Palmerston were the ablest men, and the two first the best informed in the

Government. Fitzgerald knows nothing of the business of his office, still
less of the principles of trade; he is idle, but quick. Of Murray I know
nothing; he is popular in his office, but he has neither the capacity nor the
knowledge of Huskisson.

CHAPTER VI.
The Recorder’s report — Manners of George IV. — Intrigues of
the Duke of Cumberland — Insults Lady Lyndhurst — Deacon
Hume at the Board of Trade — Quarrel between the Duke of
Cumberland and the Lord Chancellor — A Bad Season —
Prostration of Turkey — France under Polignac — State of
Ireland — Mr. Windham’s Diary — George IV.’s Eyesight —
Junius — A Man without Money — Court-martial on Captain
Dickinson — The Duke and the ‘Morning Journal’ — Physical
Courage of the King — A Charade at Chatsworth — Huskisson
and the Duke — Irish Trials — Tom Moore — Scott — Byron
— Fanny Kemble — Sir James Mackintosh — His
Conversation — Black Irishmen — Moore’s Irish Story —
Moore’s Singing — George IV. and Mr. Denman — Strawberry
Hill — Moore at Trinity College — Indian Vengeance at
Niagara — Count Woronzow — Lord Glengall’s Play — The
Recorder’s Report.

July 21st, 1829
There was a Council last Thursday, and the heaviest Recorder’s report
that was ever known, I believe; seven people left for execution. The King
cannot bear this, and is always leaning to the side of mercy. Lord Tenterden,
however, is for severity, and the Recorder still more so. It not unfrequently
happens that a culprit escapes owing to the scruples of the King; sometimes
he put the question of life or death to the vote, and it is decided by the
voices of the majority. The King came to town at one, and gave audiences
until half-past four. He received Madame du Cayla, whom he was very
curious to see. She told me afterwards that she was astonished at his good
looks, and seemed particularly to have been struck with his ‘belles jambes

et sa perruque bien arrangée;’ and I asked her if she had ever seen him
before, and she said no, ‘mais que le feu Roi lui en avait souvent parlé, et de
ses belles manières, qu’en vérité elle les avait trouvées parfaites.’ There was
a reigning Margrave of Baden waiting for an audience in the room we
assembled in. Nobody took much notice of him, and when the Duke spoke
to him he bowed to the ground, bow after bow; when he went away nobody
attended him or opened the door for him.

July 24th, 1829
The accounts from Ireland are very bad; nothing but massacres and
tumults, and all got up by the Protestants, who desire nothing so much as to
provoke the Catholics into acts of violence and outrage. They want a man of
energy and determination who will cause the law to be respected and
impartially administered. If Lord Anglesey was there, it is very probable
these outrages would not have taken place, but no one cares for such a man
of straw as the present Lord Lieutenant.
The Duke of Cumberland is doing all he can to set the King against the
Duke; he always calls him ‘King Arthur,’ which made the King very angry
at first, and he desired 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 Münster 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.